#heiress of gotham masterlist

[cas-backwards-tie]

Heiress Of Gotham Masterlist

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: After the sudden loss of your mother to mysterious circumstances, you’re claimed by a father you didn’t know you had: Bruce Wayne. If it isn’t bad enough that you’re complete strangers to one another, your world is flipped upside down with all the changes said to come with the Wayne name. What’s worse is that you’re not so sure your mother’s death was an accident.

Warnings: Angst, Anti-Police themes, Cursing, Depression themes, Negativity, Numbness, Disassociation, Depression, Existentialism, Cursing, Misandry, Crying, Suicidal Thoughts (if u squint), Yelling, Outbursts, Injury, Blood, Catcalling, Threats, Funeral, Knives, Fighting, Panic Attacks, Shame, Guilt, Fight or Flight, Spying, Voyeurism, Flirting

Mentions of: Death, Suicide, Body Fluids, Bodies, Sex Trafficking, Criminal Activities, Drug Busts, Prostitution, Assassins,

Part One Chapters: Seed Uprooted | Cruel New World | Memories Embarked | Desolate Days | Threatened to Reset | Summer of a Lifetime | Uncharted Territory | Reckless Decisions & Dancing | Fake Dates & Milkshakes | Revenge and Retribution

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Academia - Turmoil

Masterlist

Pairing: Aged up Damian Wayne x f reader

Tags: academic setting, rivals to lovers, friends with benefits, angst

Trigger warning: The reader is attacked, tied up, and given Scarecrow's fear toxin, thoughts of dead loved ones, blood - Damian is vengeful and goes after her attackers.

For the past couple of weeks, you'd been trying to explore your new relationship with Nikolas. He was everything a boyfriend should be - kind, considerate, fun to be around. You'd gone on the typical dates: dinner and a movie, a casual walk through the city, lazy afternoons hanging out in your dorm. It was easy. But there was one problem.

Every time you studied his face for too long, the same sad realization crept in. You weren't as attracted to him as you were... to Damian. Fine. You admit it.

Nick was the sweet, sunshine type. The kind of guy who would make you laugh and take care of you. But Damian... Damian was bad. Brooding. Sharp edges and quiet intensity. The kind of man who made your pulse race and your mind wander to places. You could picture Nikolas holding your hand, but with Damian, you saw someone who would take control. There was a thrill in the idea of letting go, handing the reins over to him, not having to think for once.

For days, you'd been teetering between the smart choice - Nick - and the one that made your heart beat faster, the one you couldn’t stop thinking about, no matter how much you tried. Especially at night.

It didn't help that the three of you came across each other on campus often. There were many times when Nick came to meet you after class and walk you to your research lab, and you would catch Damian glaring at the two of you, his arms cross and his eyes narrowed. He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed when you caught him looking - ironically, you were the one who redirected their gaze to the floor in shame. It was all backward.

Meanwhile, Damian had buried himself in his routine. His training, his classes, his late-night patrols, and of course, his fellow elites; heiresses, models, and children of Gotham's 1%, who he was always captured with at night clubs, as your roommate helpfully showed you on her twitter reccomended.

In reality, Damian tried anything to drown out the thoughts of you in his head, the memory of you looking up at him with your soft, vulnerable eyes. The moment he rejected you replayed more times than he wanted to admit.

He didn’t need distractions right now. Not while you were off with Nikolas Hill, laughing at his jokes and letting him kiss you, hold you, touch you whenever he pleased. Damian scoffed at the idea. Hill was a decent guy, sure, but nowhere near your match. But if you wanted to waste your time, that was your right.

He was in the middle of his evening workout when his earpiece beeped, drawing him from his train of thought.

"Robin?" Oracle’s voice filtered through.

"Hm?" he responded, still lost in his own head as he lowered down and pushed up with one hand.

"Are you on campus right now?"

Damian stilled, suddenly alert. "No. Why?"

"There’s been an attack."

His blood ran cold. "Where?"

"Maddison Hall."

His mind flashed to you. Maddison Hall was where you spent most of your time working with Professor Kace and the other researchers. Before he even had time to process the rest of her words, Damian was on his feet, every nerve alight with tension.

"I’m on it," he said, already moving.

"Wait, Robin, I don’t have all the -"

Her voice cut off as Damian turned off his earpiece, barely taking time to grab his gear before he was out the door.

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The sight before him nearly made Damian drop his father’s "no-kill" rule on the spot.

You lay crumpled on the cold floor of the lab, hands bound behind your back, duct tape muffling any scream for help you tried to make. You were shaking as if trapped in some nightmare. Your eyes, which he was used to always being filled with curiosity about the world, were wide with terror, streaks of black mascara ran down your cheeks. It wasn’t just the sight of you restrained that twisted his insides but also the fear he saw on your face. A look he never wanted to see again.

His instincts screamed to go to you, to comfort you, to pull you into his arms and shield you from whatever horrors had been forced into your mind. But a darker instinct also conflicted within him the instinct to find whoever did this and end them along with their entire bloodline.

He freed your wrists and removed the tape from your mouth, but his gaze was already scanning the room, searching for the coward who had done this to you.

"Oracle," he growled into his comm, barely containing his fury. "Do you have any visual on the perp?"

"Damn it! Nothing yet. They must have disguised themselves as a student," Oracle’s frustrated voice crackled in his ear. "Damian, is she -"

"Yes," Damian cut her off, pulling a syringe from his belt. "It’s Fear Toxin."

You whimpered, still lost in the hellscape the toxin had built in your mind. Damian injected the antidote into your shoulder. Watching you writhe in pain made his blood freeze. He lifted you into his arms as gently as he could and moved toward the door, but the growing crowd of students outside only irritated him further.

"Move," he barked, his voice low and dangerous. "She needs a hospital."

Halfway to the nearest emergency center, he changed his mind. He wasn’t taking you somewhere filled with people who would ask questions, who could poke and prod at your fragile state. Instead, he shot a grappling hook to a nearby rooftop, pulling both of you up and away from the crowd.

As your vision started to clear, you groaned, your body trembling in his hold. "R-Robin…" Your voice cracked, laced with panic. "My parents... they z please, you have to save them."

"It’s not real," he said softly, kneeling and holding you as close to him as he dared, providing a warmth that helped ground you. "The toxin made you see things that weren’t real. Is that what you saw? Your parents?"

You nodded, tears filling your eyes once again. "I saw them die. Please, you have to - " You fumbled with your pockets, desperately trying to find your phone, anything that could help you reach them.

Damian’s hand gently wrapped around your wrist, stopping you. His white lenses stared down at you, and for a moment, you wished you could see his eyes, see the real person beneath the mask. "Your parents are fine."

His voice, deep and calm. There was something about the way he spoke - so sure, so steady - that made you believe him.

"It’s not real?" you asked, voice trembling, trying to keep yourself from breaking down completely.

He nodded. "Call them. You’ll see."

Your hands shook as you fumbled with your phone, which was now cracked. You dialed the number, waiting for what seemed like forever for each each ring. Then she finally picked up.

"Honey, thank God!" Your mom’s voice came through. "Are you okay? I’ve been watching the news - what’s going on over there?"

Your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to sound normal. "I’m fine, Mom. I’m just… in my room. Is everyone okay?"

"We’re fine, sweetie. Just worried sick about you."

“I’ll visit tomorrow,” you blurted out, tears stinging your eyes. "I’ll come home tomorrow."

Your mom’s voice lifted in relief. "That’s great! Be safe, honey."

After hanging up, your body gave out. Your knees buckled, and a sob you’d been holding in finally broke free. You fell onto the ground, unable to stop the tears. He caught you, lowering both of you to the ground until you were sitting in his lap.

In his hold, you didn’t feel the fear you expected from someone like him. You’d heard stories, read articles about this Robin. How he wasn’t like the others - scarier, more brutal, more dangerous. But here, in his arms, you felt safe.

The tears wouldn’t stop. Your mind kept replaying those awful images, the sound of your parents’ screams still echoing in your ears.

"I thought I lost them," you sobbed, shaking uncontrollably.

Damian’s heart clenched. He had seen people cry before - mostly because he caused them to. But seeing you like this, broken and terrified, was something else entirely.

Damian’s first instinct was to say, "I thought I lost you," but he bit back the words, instead holding you close, his gloved hands cupping your cheeks gently. "I'm so sorry," he whispered hoarsely, barely audible over the city's noise. "I'm sorry."

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You were not the same after that night. Trauma clung to you with every thought. What happened in that lab left you scarred, destroying your sense of safety.

The last time Damian had seen you, he was still in his Robin suit. You’d been shaking, eyes glassy with the aftereffects of the fear toxin, but you insisted on going home to your dorm. Damian’s instincts screamed at him to take you somewhere safe, to keep you in his apartment where he could protect you, but he complied with your needs.

And as much as it killed him, he had to let you go.

What stung worse was the sight that awaited him at your dorm. Nikolas was already there, pacing anxiously by the entrance, his hair still wet from his swim meet. The moment he saw you, he rushed over, pulling you into his arms as though you were fragile enough to break. Damian’s fists clenched as he watched Nikolas cradle your face in his hands, checking you over with concern.

The sight of Nick’s resting possessively staying on the small of your back as he led you up the stairs twisted something deep inside Damian, but he pushed it down. He had no right to feel that way - not after he had pushed you away first.

You didn’t show up to physics the next day. Or the day after. A week passed, and still nothing.

He wanted to reach out - every part of him screamed to check on you - but that wasn't his job anymore.

Then, one day, his phone buzzed.

Nikolas Hill: Damian, hey. It's Nick Hill.

Nikolas Hill:Just thought you should know, y/n broke up with me. Got me flowers and chocolates. It was... pretty sweet, actually 😅. It's the nicest way I've ever been dumped for sure.

Nikolas Hill: Anyway, I’ve seen the way you look at her, man. You should go for it. Really.

Nikolas Hill: And you might wanna check on her... she dropped out of Kace's research project. Not answering anyone’s calls or messages. We’re worried.

Damian stared at the message, his stomach tightening. You dropped the project? And now you weren’t talking to anyone?

He didn’t wait. The next day, he was at your parents’ house, knocking on the door. A middle-aged woman half his size answered, her eyes widening as she took took him in - her gaze flickering between him and the sleek, black Camaro parked outside.

"Hello?" She said.

"Hello, ma'am. My name is Damian... Wayne." He flashed her the best smile he could summon, as his gaze flickered between her and the home behind her, searching for you.

Her eyes widened further. "Wayne, as in...?"

"Yes, Bruce Wayne’s son."

"Oh my!" She nodded, her eyes still studying him. "How can I help you?"

"I’m a friend of y/n’s." Damian explained. "She hasn’t been to class for the past couple of weeks, and I wanted to check on her. Is she alright?"

Her surprise grew, her lips parting slightly. "She never told us she had... a friend like you." There was a slight note of disbelief, as if the idea of you being close to someone like Damian Wayne didn’t quite compute.

Damian raised a brow. Why wouldn’t you tell them about him? Were you... ashamed?

Before he could respond, she stepped aside, inviting him in. "Please, come in. I was just finishing up dinner. Would you like to join us?"

"Is your daughter home?" Damian asked, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was an urgency behind his words he couldn’t hide.

Your mother nodded, turning around and calling you downstairs. "Honey, you have a visitor!"

Just then, you appeared at the top of the small staircase, and the breath caught in his throat. You were a ghost of the person he remembered. Dark circles rimmed your eyes, your cheeks hollow and your body frail. The t-shirt you were in drowned you as it slipped off your shoulder, revealing how think your collarbone had become. Have you been skipping your meals?

Your usual spark of curiosity was replaced with something far darker—sadness.

You froze when you saw him before forcing yourself to recover and quickly make your way down the stairs, grateful for the 5 minute shower you decided to take just before you were called down. Damian may see you in a bad state, but at least hell be smelling 'coconut sunshine' bodywash. As you came to stand in front of him, barefoot, and without your high heels, you were even shorter and had to look up at a less comfortable angle. Your hand came up to rub the opposite arm, Damian's heart ached when he saw the bruises circling your wrists from the rope that was used to restrain you.

"Hi." You spoke softly.

"Hi," he replied, voice dripping with what seemed like disappointment. "You haven’t been to class. I wanted to check on you."

"I’m alright," you lied, your voice weak and shaky. "Just... spending some time with my family."

Damian tool a quick sweep over the room, the small, homey space that felt miles apart from the opulence of Wayne Manor or his apartment. It was cozy, filled with the scent of warm food, a stark contrast to the sterile, minimalist world he was used to.

But that wasn’t what was on his mind. He couldn’t stop staring at you, trying to reconcile the person in front of him with the one he knew.

“Do you want to go out? Get some air?" Damian asked.

"No," you answered quickly, then paused. "I mean... you can stay for dinner, if you want."

Damian tucked his hands into his pockets, fighting the growing frustration inside him. He didn’t want dinner. He wanted answers. “I was hoping for some privacy.”

You eyed him warily, a look of distrust flashing across your face, and it hit him like an insult. You didn’t trust him anymore? You ungrateful brat. If you only knew who was under the mask that day you were rescued. It enraged him, though he didn’t show it.

“Nikolas told me you broke up with him,” Damian said, lowering his voice. “And dropped Kace’s project.”

You shrugged weakly, your shirt dropping lower down your shoulder, which you didnt notice as you avoided his gaze. "Yeah. I did."

Damian’s arms itched to touch your bare skin. He took in a deep breath. "You’re also about to lose your scholarship," he pressed, his tone more insistent now.

Your brow furrowed. "How do you know that?"

“It’s a research scholarship. They won’t keep paying you if you’re not involved in research.”

There was a flicker in your eyes. Either anger, maybe annoyance. But it wasn’t indifference. And that’s all Damian needed. You were still there under this facade. He wasn’t going to leave. Not without you.

"Damian, thank you for visiting. But right nows not a good time." Before you could open the front door for him, his hand shot out, stopping it in its tracks.

“That’s not very nice,” he said, his voice low and firm. “Your mother invited me for dinner, and I accepted.”

"Damian - " you started, but your mother’s voice interrupted.

"That’s wonderful!" she exclaimed, oblivious to the tension. "I was just finishing up the potatoes."

The scent of dinner filled the air, but Damian couldn’t focus on anything except you. You were trying to slip away, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.

After dinner, when your parents went to bed, Damian asked you again to walk with him. You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper when you spoke.

“I’ve tried,” you confessed. “I can’t get past the door. Every time I do, I... panic. I shut down."

The vulnerability in your voice was enough to shatter whatever resolve he had left. You were hurting, deeply, and it killed him to see it.

He stepped closer, his voice restrained. “I'll help you.”

But you just shook your head, pulling away. "I'm tired."

“It’s late,” Damian agreed, his voice soft but commanding. “You should go to sleep.” He nodded toward the stairs.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. "Thats not what I meant. I dont what to sleep."

But your body betrayed you, and before you could say anything else, you yawned. A small, defeated sound that you tried to hide but failed miserably.

Damian grinned, raising a brow as he looked down at you. “You sure about that?”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat. "I... I can't go to sleep," you admitted quietly, the words trembling on your lips. "The nightmare comes back when I do."

Damian sighed, his expression softening, though the fire in his eyes never wavered. He understood - he had his own problem with nightmares, demons that lurked in the dark corners of his mind. “Try again now,” he said gently, leading you to your livingroom couch. “I’ll wake you up if it happens.”

You shook your head, the fear bubbling up inside you. But his unyielding gaze stopped you.

“Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice laced with something raw, “you need to rest. I can’t stand seeing you this tired anymore.”

His words hung in the air, the concern behind them tightening something in your chest. You hesitated, searching his face for reassurance. "You'll wake me up?"

“Yes.”

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t argue with him. Not when his eyes held so much insistence. Slowly, you lay down on the couch, your head sinking into the cushion. The moment your eyes closed, sleep washed over you.

But it didn’t last long.

Within minutes, you were tossing and turning, whimpering softly as the nightmares clawed their way back into your mind. Damian watched as you struggled even in your sleep. Then, gently, he reached for you, pulling you into his lap with ease. You felt so small in his arms as your back came to rest against his chest, his lips brushing your hair.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, “Youre okay, your alright.”

Your eyes fluttered open, wide and panicked as you gasped for breath. You looked around frantically before your gaze landed on Damian. “Damian, my parents - they’re - ”

“Upstairs, sleeping,” he said, his voice firm. “They’re okay.”

You blinked, your eyes darting toward the stairs as if you needed the reassurance for yourself. You made to get up to go check on them, but his grip stopped you, pulling you back against him.

“Yes.” Damian spoke quietly but with intent. “I’m right here. Nothing will happen to either of you."

You nodded slowly, the tension draining from your body as you rested your head against him. The warmth of his presence was enough to lull you back into sleep, though it didn’t last. The nightmare came back, and so did Damian’s voice, pulling you out of it every time.

It happened a few more times throughout the night. Each time, you would whimper, trapped in your dreams, and he would wake you, then hold you until you fell asleep again. Halfway through the night you began clinging to him, your arms snaking around him to hold him closer, sensing the safety he provided even in your sleep.

Not minding one bit, he could still see the toll it was taking on you, the way you couldn’t even get through one night without being haunted by what Scarecrow had done. It made his blood boil. It fueled a dark, vengeful fire that burned hotter with each of your nightmares.

He swore to himself, as he watched you sleep restlessly, that he would make Scarecrow pay for this - for the pain, the fear, and the nightmares that took you from him.

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On his third night of patroll, Robin cornered the man in the Scarecrow mask, ripping it from his face with such force the strap snapped. The man trembled, backing into the alley wall, his eyes wide in fear.

"I'm not him! Please!" The man’s hands shot up in surrender, sweat pouring down his face as he eyed the rest of his team, who were knocked unconscious. He hoped.

"Where is he?" Damian’s voice was low, dangerous. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"I-I don’t know!" the man stammered. "I swear! A different one of us is made to wear that thing every night in case you show up!"

Robin’s jaw tightened. His eyes were cold and merciless. He didn't care if this man knew or not. He wanted an outlet, something to absorb the endless rage boiling in his chest. He sighed, cracking his knuckles slowly, deliberately, like a predator preparing for the kill. "Then you'll have to do."

The thug whimpered. "No, no, no-"

The Red Hood arrived on the rooftop, surveying the scene below. His eyes narrowed as he saw Robin beating the life out of the cowering henchman. The tension in his youngest brother's posture was unmistakable. Jason eyed the rest of the henchman team, laid out and bleeding in different spots on the ground.

"Uh, I’m gonna need backup here," Jason said into his comm.

"Why? Too much for you to handle?" came Dick’s teasing voice over the line.

"Nah, but someone’s gotta protect these poor bastards from Robin."

There was a pause. Then Bruce spoke up. "...on my way."

Damian couldn’t hear anything but the pounding in his skull, his vision narrowing to the terrified man in front of him.

"Robin!"

The first punch landed hard in the guy’s gut, causing him to double over, gasping for air. Then the fists came, rapid and unrelenting, from left to right. Each blow was calculated - not enough to kill, but enough to inflict the kind of pain that lingers, that leaves a mark deep under the skin.

The man’s blood splattered against the wall, his groans turning to pitiful whimpers as he weakly tried to shield himself. But Damian was relentless, his fury a tidal wave, drowning out any sense of restraint. This was for you. The helplessness he felt when he couldn’t save you, the guilt for letting you go, for not being there when you needed him most. Every punch was a punishment, a way to exorcize his own demons.

"Robin!"

By the time he stopped, the henchman was barely conscious, slumped against the wall, gasping for breath through cracked ribs and bloodied lips. Robin stood over him, panting, his chest heaving. His hands, covered in the man's blood, twitched. He wanted to keep going. Needed to keep going.

"FUCK!" Robin roared, the sound reverberating off the brick walls.

"ROBIN!" He was grabbed by a pair of strong arms, slamming him against the wall. "Jesus, what the hell’s wrong with you?" Jason's voice chastised him behind his mask.

"Back off!" Damian shoved Jason hard, his eyes wild, untamed.

"How about fuck no?" Jason growled, pressing his forearm against Damian’s throat, forcing him to stay still. Over the years, Damian grew taller than Tim, matching Dick in height, but Jason still had maybe an inch on him. The elder stuggled to hold his brother back. "I need you to calm the hell down!"

Before Damian could retaliate, Batman arrived, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "What the hell happened?"

Jason shot a look over his shoulder. "Your kid happened."

Batman’s eyes fell on the battered man, then on Damian, still shaking with fury, fists clenched, ready for more. "Damian," Bruce said quietly.

"Its what he deserves." Damian’s voice was low, venomous, each word dripping with barely contained rage. "He hurt her. He broke her."

Batman’s expression shifted as he understood. You. The girl who Damian was bringing home from school. The one who’d been ripped apart by what happened to her.

"And how is killing this nobody helping her?" Bruce asked, his voice steady but firm.

Damian’s lips curled into a cruel smile. "It's not." His eyes glinted with a dark amusement as he stared into his father’s unflinching gaze. "But it sure as hell makes me feel better."

Bruce sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He knew this wasn’t about justice. This was about catharsis. Damian was unraveling, and if Bruce didn’t stop it now, there’d be no pulling him back. "You’re off patrol," Batman ordered, stepping toward him.

Damian sneered, shoving him back. "Like hell."

"It’s not up for debate."

Damian’s glare intensified. "I’m not stopping until he’s dead. I’ll bury him - "

"Robin." Batman’s voice was calm, controlled. "You’re going home."

Before Damian could react, he felt a sudden sharp pinch on the side of his neck. He staggered, his vision blurring as his hand flew to the dart embedded in his skin. "Wha - " His legs gave out beneath him, and darkness closed in before he could reach for the antidote.

Batman caught him as he slumped forward, unconscious. "Get him home," Bruce said to Jason, his voice heavy with regret. "Ill take care of this mess."

Jason nodded. "You know he's not gonna forgive you for that."

Bruce glanced at Damian’s unconscious form. "I know."

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Damian woke up groggy, his vision blurry as he blinked against the harsh lights of the Batcave. His arms were strapped down to something cold and unyielding. "Damn it. Let me go!" His voice was a snarl, filled with rage and frustration.

"Negative," Bruce's calm, gravelly voice responded. He approached from the shadows, no longer in his suit but in a sweater and jeans, the cowl replaced by the face of a father. "You killed someone tonight. Did you know that?"

Damian gritted his teeth, pulling against his restraints in fury. "Who gives a shit?" He thrashed, his breath coming in sharp gasps. "Let me go, now! She's alone - "

"She's fine," Bruce interrupted firmly. "Oracle is monitoring."

Before Damian could spit back another response, the Batcave’s voice system activated with Oracle’s voice. "I have visual on her right now. She's at home, watching TV with her family. Safe."

Damian's chest heaved, but the confirmation did little to ease the burning tension in his veins. He didn’t care that she was safe. He needed to be there with you. Protect you.

"How long are you going to keep me like this?" Damian glared at Bruce, eyes flashing with anger.

"You're too worked up to be set free," Bruce said, his tone unwavering. "I don't want you making decisions you’ll inevitably regret."

"I won't regret jack shit!" Damian roared. "Scarecrow's overdue for a visit to hell!"

"'Overdue for a visit to hell,'" Jason's voice echoed from somewhere in the batcave, but Damian couldn't see him. "Goddamn, this kid's more dramatic than you, bats." Jasons chuckle echoed alongside his footsteps as he entered the batcave.

"Thank you, Jason." Bruce said sarcastically.

"Youre welcome."

"Damian," Bruce's tone was deadly serious. "I don't think you heard me clearly. You are a murderer."

Damian's jaw clenched before he spat, "Bruce, do you even understand what 'League of Assassins' means? I've been a murderer. Since I was ten." His voice cracked slightly, the anger mingling with something deeper - something broken.

The tired lines of his fathers face grew more pronounced. "And when I took you in, I made both you and myself a promise to end that cycle." His voice was softer now, but no less firm. He stepped closer, his presence towering over Damian, not as Batman, but as a father. "You were a child, Damian. You didn’t know any better. But you do now. You don’t get to decide the outcome of human lives. When you do, you become the very thing we fight against. The very thing she fears."

Those words landed hard, and Damian stopped struggling.

The very thing she fears.

He pictured your face, pale with terror, your haunted eyes. Damian swallowed hard, his throat tightening. "Fuck."

He hated it. Hated that the old man was right. His whole life had been about violence, about using pain to solve problems.

He glanced up at Bruce, anger creeping out of his voice. "I don't know what to do."

Bruce’s expression softened, the hard edge of Batman fading away as his fatherly concern surfaced. He sighed, his own guilt simmering beneath the surface. "Be there for her. That will be enough."

Damian stared up at him, resisting the urge to punch him for that unhelpful advicr. He didn’t know how to be that. How to be anything but the weapon he was trained to be.

"I don’t... want her to fear me," Damian whispered, his voice barely audible. At least he didn't think he did.

Bruce reached out, his hand resting on Damian’s shoulder, a rare gesture of affection. "You can't solve this one as Robin. Nor the League’s heir. Just Damian."

For a moment, Damian closed his eyes, letting his father’s words sink in. His breath slowed, and the fury that had been burning inside of him all night began to fade into something else - epiphany. He had to fix you himself. He had no qualm playing therapist, whether you wanted him to or not.

When he opened his eyes again, he met Bruce’s gaze, still defiant but quieter now. "I know what I have to do."

"You do," Bruce said with a firm nod.

Damian had a new goal in his mind now, bringing you back. His jaw was tight, but his breathing was steady now. "Untie me," he said quietly. "I’m calm."

Bruce hesitated for a moment, and then he slowly unstrapped his son’s hands. Damian sat up, rubbing his wrists, though his mind was far away - thinking of you and the promises he had made to himself.

"Not so fast." Bruce spoke up. "You're still in trouble. Tomorrow, you will bring in... 10 juvenile delinquents into the station -" Bruce knew Damian especially hated dealing with kids - he had to hold back with them - "to make up for the shithead you killed tonight. And you'll do two hundred push-ups now."

Damian scoffed at the easy challenge. "Fine,"

"Jason, sit on his back."

"What?!" Damian spat out in protest as Jason rolled his head back in laughter.

The next morning, Damian barely made his way to your doorstep, limping over sore limbs. He had his work cut out for him with you, and he would start with getting you alone.

[help-me-im-in-the-fandom]

When you stare into the Abyss: Origins

Masterlist

Next part

It started out pretty simple, almost three months after he had began his career as Batman, intent to save the innocent just as much as punish the criminals of Gotham.

“Batman is still just a man, he’s not a god.”

He had overheard the words at a gala the first time, when airhead Brucie is drinking and flirting with all the pretty girls he can see.

The words of course, don’t visibly effect him, don’t make him pause in his step or his voice calling towards a nearby heiress falter.

However, his heart beats in his chest even as he cozies up to the woman.

Because in truth, Batman was just a man, a rich, overly trained and incredibly intelligent man, but a man nonetheless.

He tries to ignore it, but as he keeps hitting the streets to dig out the rotting tendrils of corruption in this horrible place, he keeps hearing it.

A pair of smokers outside a club known for the fact no woman ever escaped without being drugged to hell and back, talking quietly about the rumors of the Batman that had began picking off their friends one by one.

“I ain’t scare’ o’ i’ jus’a man inna cos’ume.”

“He’s a de’il I ‘ell ya, ‘ere ‘o ‘ollect ‘is souls.”

Batman stays still on the roof above him, but even days later with both men in costudy and the bar shut down for health code violations, his mind keeps going back to the conversation.

It’s whispered in alleys and under bridges and inside packed clubs, the words a mantra the criminals begin to say like a prayer.

It’s sneered with distaste inside the mansions and museums of the rich, joked about inside their ivory castles covered in blood.

It’s said fear inside workplaces and coffe shops, whispered in schools and parks for their only protector.

Batman is just a man.

It agitated Bruce, he doesn’t know why at first, because it is the truth, he is just a man.

Then he sees a blurry photo a the Gotham Gazete with a humanoid shape of shadows, it’s nothing more than a Bigfoot sighting, blurry and pixelated and might just be a trick of the light.

But it makes his stomach curl, because he knows he might not be that lucky next time, and how long would it take for people to start looking for Batman, if they think he is just a man and have a photo to prove it?

Bruce, after a decade of crime fighting, will tell anyone he regrets the decision he made that night, what it created.

His family will hug him and tell him he couldn’t have known.

Because in the bar stool of the kitchen where Alfred is plating an enormous plate of breakfast to make up for the calories lost the night before, he makes a decision.

Batman needed to be more than a man, perhaps not a god, but something close enough no one would ever accuse air-head Bruce Wayne of being the terror of Gotham’s underground.

Alfred will tell what followed was a three day whirlwind of creative insperatikn and sleep-deprived insanity mixed with an over caffeinated Billionaire’s pocket money.

Bruce would say it was three days of careful planning and precise research as well as dozens of mock up designs.

In the end it takes longer than a month for Bruce to implement the changes to his original suit design, practically scrapping it and starting over between dodging board meetings and stalking the streets.

But eventually, Bruce finishes his design, and that night the screams of terror are stronger for quite a while, after all, Batman is no longer just a man.

[naomikozura]

Playing With Fire: Chapter 6

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, mentions of guns, drinking (all overage), tiny tiny tiny angst (if you squint), stealing/heist, illegal coding (meh barely a warning), not too many this chapter but lmk if I missed any!

WC: 10K

Summary: In the heart-pounding midst of a daring heist, you encounter him for the first time behind the mask. As partners in crime, the stakes are high—this job could reshape your future. But amidst the adrenaline and danger, a connection sparks, complicating everything. Will you emerge unscathed by consequences, or will you find yourself entangled in a precarious dance where risk and intimacy intertwine, forcing you to confront the true meaning of loyalty?

Series Masterlist

Chapter 5 || Chapter 7

The night was filled with people from all backgrounds, business owners, CFOs, CEOs, COOs, jewelry heiresses, stock brokers, even those who dabbled in international trade and shipments of luxury goods were in the room. Every person with any sense of power on the money side of Gotham was present tonight. You were wearing a gorgeous golden dress with fabric that hung around your chest and drooped over your shoulder, covering the gunshot wound that you’d received a week ago. The dress complimented your skin and hugged your figure perfectly. Every curve of your body hugged by the fabric, showing off your form in a delicate yet seductive and classy way. You had your necklace under the wrap around neckline, but wore the matching green earrings adorning and balancing the outfit. It was simple and perfect for the occasion. You had your hair up in a slick back ponytail, the length hanging perfectly, giving you a soft glowy look versus your dark seductive alter ego. You wanted to be seen as the charming, beautiful, supportive partner that worked with Calvi himself. 

Your heart was beating in your chest, pounding like a wild animal trying to escape from its cage. After weeks of preparations, the night was finally here. Ambushing and infiltrating Sionis’s business to make him crumble from the inside out. You hadn’t spoken to Red in a few days, his plan perfectly laid and seemed fool proof. One of the calls was ceased communication. It was the only way to ensure the plan would work in the end. You couldn’t be in ties with him since he had his own role to play which he had started before asking for your help. Befriend and gain the trust of Calvi’s business partner, Marcos. A powerhouse in Gotham’s elite. Working in foreign exchange, luxury goods, and security, he was almost as devastating as Calvi himself. Only he was more egotistical and cocky than Calvi was. He didn’t have the same charm or the same sense of formality. He was new money rich, everything spiraling and taking off after he created his security platform, Python. 

You finished applying your lipstick, fixing your hair and grabbing your designer clutch off the sink. You needed to play the part of being the daughter of a wealthy businessman, trying to cover your tracks so no one could wonder how easily you had access to Calvi and ended up on his arm this night of the Gala honoring him. Calvi already knew your background as you were able to create a false one that lined up perfectly with the daughter of a businessman who’d disappeared and gone off grid. The family kept it a secret so as to not be caught in a scandal, so you stepped in as the replacement and since you were a beautiful, young woman with interest in luxury goods, everything checked out. No loopholes, no openings. 

~~~

It was all selfish. It was personal. It was for your freedom. That’s what you kept telling yourself when you paced in the outskirts of the city, waiting for Red at the secluded location he’d embedded into the file for future meetings. 

Could you actually manage to pull something like this off? Was it all a ploy or did he truly believe this could work? 

“Y/n”, you turned at the sound of his voice. 

“Red”, you breathed, your shoulders tense. 

“You came.”, his voice had a hint of humor in it, but serious quickly took over as his body stopped only a foot away from you, his proximity sending you over the edge. He had a deep musk to him, a woodsy scent that filled your nostrils and made your veins flood with a sensation you couldn’t quite place. 

“How serious are you?” your voice was a whisper, but the intent was loud. You weren’t here to play games. You needed answers. 

“I’m dead serious about this, sweetheart.”, he replied. “I take you overlooked everything.”

“What interest do you have in the Blue Moon of Josephine that you need to steal it from the museum that Black Mask has under his protection?”

“It’s a hefty hit and a hefty payout. I thought you’d be the first to jump all over this.”

“It’s a suicide mission!”, you raised your voice slightly, your eyes slightly widening as you held back your confused frustration. 

“It’s your ticket out of here. It’s my ticket to a direct hit at that son of a bitch and getting closer to completing my work.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him, your eyes glossy with emotion you couldn’t quite place. Was it anger, frustration, false hope, or a sense of trust that you knew you shouldn’t be placing in him in the first place? 

“You always seem focused on escaping this shit city, and now I’m giving you the chance and you’re doubting it.”

“I don’t want false hope.”, you clenched your teeth. 

“The evidence was all in that drive. You can see for yourself it isn’t false anything.”, he replied as stared at you intently, his focus on you as he waited for your answer. His silence made the air around the both of you fill with tension, there was more to it than he led on. You took a step back, not noticing how his close proximity had affected you. You needed to focus. 

“If you’re serious, if you truly believe we can pull this off…” Red noticed how you were overthinking the situation, his voice ringing out again. 

“I won’t force you to do something you’re not confident in doing.” 

You let yourself sit in the silence, his body still radiating heat and his hand on your chin to meet his eyes. You basked in his presence for a moment, snapping yourself out of the trance and looking at him intently. 

“No.”, you breathed. “I’m in.”

~~~

“Ready, my dear?”, Calvi stretched an arm towards you as you wrapped your hands around him and walked elegantly next to him. He was tall, around 6’5, even taller than Red. You were wearing heels so your height would be closer to meet his eye line, but you were still far shorter than the both of them. 

“Are we meeting any of your partners tonight?”, you asked softly, your eyes examining his face, his demeanor very relaxed and laid back. 

“A few, but only one catches my attention tonight. He has a new development and I want to be the first to have it.”, he mentioned nonchalantly.

“You look stunning tonight. I don’t know how you get more beautiful every time I see you, Vivian”, his breath smelled like mint, his natural scent overwhelming with overpriced cologne. It was almost too much for your senses, giving you a slight headache. 

“You clean up nice yourself, Cal. You sure you’re not holding back on me?”, you smiled as your words left in a flirty tone.

The two of you walked through the halls, taking in the cases full of jewelry spanning from rings, necklaces, crowns, bracelets, everything worth tens if not hundreds of thousands of dollars. Everything here was priceless. But you weren’t here for scraps. 

You moved around, looking at the well dressed statues that were clothed in beautiful custom gowns that were hand crafted by the best designers in the city. You admired them deeply and loved the complex colors and the reflection of the light making the diamonds, emeralds, rubies, pearls, all the jewels illuminate beautifully. 

Calvi followed behind but remained close at your side, allowing you to take your time as you moved through the entrance halls and into the main room, the music and the chatter of people filled the atmosphere. There wasn’t a single inch of the room that didn’t have a person standing in it. Servers, musicians, security, attendees, everyone was here. 

It was almost as impressive as the Wayne Galas. 

Almost. 

It was a grand hall full of beautiful, timeless decorations, the curtains reaching the roof and the chandeliers hanging around the room as the music played in a lively tune that allowed people to have drinks and mingle with one another. The attendance list was full of the rich, powerful people of Gotham, all having their own born right to be here. Many of the names on Red’s drive were old money, generations of wealth passed down through each new member. Others were self-made businessmen and women, they had gone from middle class citizens to the highest ranking in the city, making them more respected by those who kept a watchful eye on them. 

Calvi motioned towards the small bar area, walking over with you in hand as he ordered a glass of his favorite whiskey while you ordered your wine. You leaned into Calvi, reeling him in as he placed a hand on your waist, turning towards him as you smiled and lifted a hand to your face, brushing a small piece of hair back. How easy it was to have men wrapped around your finger and at your command. 

“Is that Calvi Calbera?”, you turned to be met with the very man you were anticipating the whole night. Marcos Maroni. The unknown son of Sal Maroni. Except here, no one knew he was a Maroni. He did well hiding his background from everyone in this scene. Only you and Red knew who he was, who he really was. 

“Marcos Morona”, Calvi walked up to him, shaking his hand and patting him on the back, laughing as they greeted each other. 

“Excuse me, forgive my rudeness, but who is this lovely lady?”, Marcos turned to you, his charming smile hiding the intrigue in his eyes not missing the way they darkened as they skimmed your body quickly. You would’ve missed it if you weren’t so good at reading men and their mannerisms. You stood from your seat, stretching your hand out towards him as he took your delicate hand in his broad, rough one. “Vivian Lancaster”, you said softly, batting your eyelashes at him, letting him notice your obvious observation of his movements. It would inflate his ego, just like every other man in Gotham who took a liking to you. You knew you were beautiful, you knew men gravitated towards you. It made your line of work easy, especially when it came to getting intel you needed from these men. Just like Calvi. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”, he smirked at you before he kissed your hand and turned back to Calvi. “I heard you were looking for me. Wanting to take a look at my new software?”

Calvi let out a chuckle, taking a sip of his whiskey before setting it back on the bar. “I heard it’s better than Python. I want to see it and be the first to bid on getting the system for my trades.”

“You flatter me, Calvi. It is a good system, I worked with a programmer who is beyond my time and my years. I didn’t realize Bludhaven produced such intelligent people who worked in system informatics and security programming.”

“You can never underestimate people. Especially when you came from the same background”, Calvi mentioned calmly. The false life Marcos had made for himself was filled with the lie that he was completely self-made. A nobody that came from a small town in New Jersey and grew his skills and his company from the ground up. Yeah, right. 

“That’s why we have to take risks when it comes to new minds.”, Marcos rambled for a few more moments, a part of you anxious of when your partner would show up. He hadn’t made his appearance yet, you wondered if he was actually planning on coming or if all of this was just to get you away from him for another night. He had been cutting communication off for the past week so it would make sense if that was his reasoning.

“There you are.”, you looked up from your glass, you had zoned out and didn’t realize until Marcos snapped you back to their conversation. “Calvi, Vivian. I want to introduce you to one of my partners. His intelligence and deduction skills are far beyond anything I could ever imagine trying to find outside of Gotham.”

You looked behind Marcos, your heart stopped in your chest. Out of everything you expected tonight, from the risk of getting caught to the possibility of leaving empty handed, you could have never expected this. 

“Calvi, Vivian. This is Jason Todd. My partner in building my new security software and convincing me to take a risk on my programmer from Bludhaven. Not to mention the son of our beloved Bruce Wayne.”

Your lips parted from the shock. You were left speechless. He had dark hair that was slicked back neatly, exposing his face and making his jaw appear more sharp and defined than it already was. He was wearing a dark suit and a dark burgundy tie that made it obvious who he was to you. Only to you. His eyes were a deep, dark green that pulled you into a trance. His lips pulled into a charming smile, his eyes focused on your appearance as you noticed that same emotion in his eyes that you knew was in your own. Your face remained neutral, but you knew your eyes gave you away the second he looked at you. He was devastating, handsome, his eyes gentle and full of emotion as they took you in, your heart pounding in your chest while trying to remain calm. 

You felt time stop, everything around you had disappeared and the two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. His eyes bore into yours, holding an unwavering amount of attention, skimming down your frame and drinking in every inch of your body. He dressed in a suit that fit him perfectly, made him look muscular, toned, and perfect. You’d wondered what he’d look like under it all, what it would feel like against yours, the heat rising in your body as the darkness in his eyes swirled into something more. Something you couldn’t quite place. You noticed the way his hand flexed slightly but quickly relaxed. You held his gaze for what seemed like forever until his smooth, clear voice pulled you out of your trance.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jason Todd”, he stretched out his hand, letting him take yours and kissing the back of it. “What a lovely woman you have with you tonight Calvi.” Jason spoke, never taking his gaze off of you. You hadn’t broken eye contact since he waltzed in. 

“Vivian Lancaster. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”, you said, taking your hand back after noticing how he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. 

You felt your skin ignite on fire, his green eyes holding you gaze as a small smile tugged at his lips.

“She is beautiful. We’ve been working together for some time. Who knows what the future holds for us, right my dear?”, Calvi spoke as he looked at you, your eyes still under siege by Jason’s green ones. How did you go this long, never seeing his face, his eyes… he..

“Right.”, you snapped out of Jason’s stare when Calvi wrapped an arm around your waist, almost like staking his claim. You looked at his face, no emotion showing in his eyes and his jaw was relaxed. So why was he being weird?

“Calvi, let’s catch up in the meeting room before they start the auction. I’m sure Jason can keep Vivian company for a short while.”, Marcos said as he and Calvi said another snide joke under their breath and walked away.

You watched as they left before meeting Jason’s gaze again, your heart absolutely betraying you in your chest. He looked at the ground, his smile spreading across his face as he met your gaze again. He cocked his head, pointing towards the balcony that was on the other side of the room and you followed him outside, stepping into the fresh, cool air leaving your skin feeling relaxed as the soft breeze hit your warm skin.

“You clean up nice”, you said, trying to keep yourself from stuttering. You needed to focus on why you were here, not on how devastating the man in front of you looked. 

“I’d say the same to you. This dress really suits you.”, his voice was deep, suave, flirtatious, and it drove you absolutely insane. This was the first time you were seeing him like this, the first time you were on mutual grounds and he had this hold over you that you couldn’t shake. 

“So, Jason Todd.”, you said as you looked at him, that charming smirk playing at his lips again. “Son of Bruce Wayne, I thought this was supposed to keep a low profile.”, 

“It’s my real name.”, your eyebrows raised slightly, your head turning to look at him as he looked down at the garden, one hand on the railing. 

“Your real name? Seems believable enough.”

“It is. Jason Peter Todd.”, he looked at you, meeting your gaze again. 

“Do you really want me to take that seriously? Do you really think I am that gullible?”

“I know you’re not.”, he spoke again. “And, I really am the son of Bruce Wayne.”

You stared at him. The silence growing and the tension slowly getting thicker. You couldn’t believe him. He was pulling a prank on you. There’s no way he’s… 

“Why do I feel like you’re lying to me?” “When have I ever lied to you?”, he was right. Over the course of the past few months, he never lied about anything he was doing. He wouldn’t tell you complete thoughts, sometimes keep small tidbits of information from you, but lying? He never did that. 

“You’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”, you asked again, almost as if asking for confirmation of the truth once again. 

“Yes.”, at this point, he was full on facing you, his hands in his pockets as he stood tall over you. His eyes bore into your soul, almost like he was breaking apart every one of your walls and getting under your skin, making you burn in your dress.

“Does he know… that you..”

“No. He doesn’t even know I’m back in Gotham.”, he answered. 

Back in Gotham? Does that mean he left at one point? Where did he go? How long was he gone? Why did he leave?

“I see.”, you were at a loss for words. You felt like there was something about his background that just… left you wrecked. Why did you feel betrayed? Because he was a rich kid with a father who had all to Gotham in the palm of his hand? Did you feel deceived, did you believe he was just another vigilante fighting to make ends meet and he had no other choice but to enter this life like you had? Or was he just rebelling against his father?

You felt an ember of anger growing in your chest. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t stand next to him. You just felt like you received the worst confession in your life. Jason Todd, son of Bruce Wayne, was the one trying to take out Black Mask’s business to take a shot at his money and make him miserable. A rich pretty boy was trying to take out one of Gotham’s most ruthless mob bosses in the city. He could get away with killing all those people because Bruce Wayne would convince the world it wasn’t his son, there was no proof either. He wasn’t known as Jason Todd, no one knew it was him. He was just Red Hood. The annoyance grew in your chest as you remained silent and lost in thought. 

Did you even have the right to get mad at him? He’d helped you so many times, could’ve killed you throughout the past few months. He hadn’t shown anyone else within the city any form of sympathy or second guessed killing them, so why you? More importantly, why were you so bothered by the truth of who he was? 

He owed you nothing. 

You forced yourself back to the reality of the situation: get the job done.

“We can head back to my apartment once we’re done, just to get out of sight from the guards around here.”, you murmured, your eyes scanning the room in practiced scrutiny. Your focus on examining each attendee before arriving was paying off, but there were still internal updates that could have happened in the span of the past three days leading up to the Gala. Your eyes turned back towards Jason, his eyes looked at you in a soft glance, his focus on your words and actions as you scanned the room. He hummed lightly before creating distance between the two of you, your slicked hair showing off your features in a delicate manner that left him soaking in the sight for a second longer before turning away. 

“If the blueprints are accurate and they didn’t move any of the jewels around, they should be located by the main entrance where the guests came in and every one can see them.”, his response was practical, focusing perfectly on the very reason both of you were here tonight. 

Your mind raced through all the details, recalling every base of your plan down to the nitty gritty. You had calculated everything, trying to remember the blueprints exactly. Your memory was borderline photographic when it came to jobs like these. “We can leave at different times before the speeches and auction. We hack into the security system and set the cameras on loop, reprogram the sensors on the cases but we’ll only have around 10 or 15 minutes to get what we need and get out before the sensors turn back on.”

“What if we move the cameras into a blind spot that's only a few inches to the left of the main hallway?"

Your surprise was evident. "How do you know there’s a blind spot?"

"Hacking into the camera system a week ago helped a lot. I took it upon myself to cover the bases for a plan B in case we needed it."

You couldn't deny his resourcefulness, but the revelation of his background left you on edge. His clear, confident voice contrasted with the dissonance you felt in your bones. Your perception of him shifted, your judgment clouded by this deal with him and the payout at the end of this suicide mission. 

“Let’s finish what we came here for.”, his deep voice rang out. Deep, smooth, not hidden behind distortion. He was clear, articulate, and it irritated you knowing his background. It’s like your entire opinion of him just… shifted. You moved around him, slipping back into the main room and finding your way through the hallways, leaving him alone while you carried out your part of the plan. 

Back in the main room, Jason felt a tug in his gut, watching you with his deep green eyes, never leaving your form as you walked through the crowded room. He swirled his drink before throwing back the amber liquid, the burn offering him a momentary distraction from the irritation growing in the pit of his stomach. He watched as a group of men swept their gazes towards you, his hand tightening around the glass as he buried the annoyance under focus. If there was one thing he despised more than Galas, it was the people. He hated the social scene more than anything, everyone in this room included with the exception of you. 

He’d noticed how quickly your body language changed at the mention of who he was, it left him with a strange sensation wondering if you’d really gotten upset at his identity. Your sudden change in attitude made him question if his true self would change your perception of him, if it would change your alliance and the results of the job. His jaw clenched as he snapped back to focus. Regardless of how much he wanted to contemplate his actions or breakdown your reaction, he had a job to do.

He slowly moved through the room, his body tall in confidence as he noticed some of the women staring at him, blushing as they whispered between one another. He couldn’t help but feel strange, he’d always been hidden in his brother's shadow, women never particularly liked him but now that he’s older he can’t help but notice how the attention has changed. It was a complete contrast to his past, used to be overlooked and now everyone noticed him. He couldn't care less about it though, he didn’t care about anything here except for a particular woman who just walked out on him. 

He exited into the hall, walking past several people and groups of businessmen, giving them a slight nod in greeting before continuing through the corridors. He had turned down a particular hall, one he remembered from his intel and the blueprints he’d downloaded for this very night. It was the main server room, he could get to any of the cameras and completely shut them down to make the night easier on both of you. He couldn’t plant the chips there yet, he needed to touch base with you first. 

He turned into the main hall, scanning through different bodies of people until he saw you in front of a painting in all your glory. He hadn’t admitted it out loud but the pang in his chest at how you were dressed tonight left him on edge. 

“Van Gogh.”, he spoke out as he walked up beside you.

“Yeah..”, you replied softly, your attention briefly on the painting before looking down in contemplation. 

After you’d left the main room, you walked through the halls with other groups and couples, seemingly talking harmlessly but then you took in every piece of information and camera angle to the best of your ability. You stopped to admire one piece in particular, a kick to the gut but when Jason placed a hand on the small of your back, you looked at him. To anyone else the gesture would have been discreet and simple, but between the two of you it carried weight - a silent form of comfort. All you couldn’t place if it was due to his reveal, or just the stress of tonight, but you knew he’d intended the subtle gesture as a comforting touch. 

He turned to look at you, his eyes softening before flicking down to your parted lips, your lipstick beautifully painted as he took into account every detail of your presence. His jaw clenched before he removed his hand, turning back to the wall and you turned your head, not letting the heat show on your face due to his touch. 

“It’s a beautiful painting.”, you looked up at him, turning and continuing down the hall. Jason had lingered behind a moment longer, his chest filling with a rush of emotion before following behind you. Now wasn’t the time to dig up hidden meanings and make sense of them.

Not now. 

There was only half an hour before the auction started off, even less time than that before speeches and dinner started. You and Jason needed to be quick, needed to plant the chips, hack into the security system, and return before anyone caught on to your antics. You nodded at him, silently giving him an unspoken confirmation to complete your individual tasks before rendezvousing back to the main hall.

You had carefully taken in every inch of the building, watching and taking note of everything that came into proximity. You had to get to the server room and set up the security system to a no detectable loop, ensuring the system couldn’t be traced back to anyone just long enough to get what you needed and leave. You navigated the halls in focus, quickly scanning through while keeping complete composure and even nodding at a few people who walked past you to lighten suspicion. 

You quickly hurried through the hallways until you backtracked, heading down a hallway that was more dim than the rest and noticing the nameplate next to the door. You stood a few feet away to stay out of sight of the camera, trying to have as little mess to clean up as possible as you examined the door silently. You played through every possibility in your head within seconds, trying to find the best route of action to move forward with. 

You were able to find an opening just a few inches from a camera, a minute blind spot but it was all you needed to succeed. You had been keeping tabs on the security system long enough to see the actual entrance to the security room was blocked off. It gave you the perfect in to pick the lock, place the chip, set pre recorded footage, and delete any footage that showed your and Jason's entrance into the event and anything that could put you as suspects. You needed 10 minutes to pull the whole thing off. 

You knelt down to the handle, inserting the pin you can tucked into your hair, and began to work on the lock. It was a simple thing even for being placed in an event like this. After a few seconds, the subtle clicks gave away the opening of the lock, turning the handle and pushing the door open.

It was empty.

That eliminated one concern you had. If someone was in here you’d have to get your hands dirty. 

You closed the door, walked over to the desk and pulled the chair back to sit in it. You overlooked everything quickly, taking in every angle of the event being monitored in high definition. You could see the main room, the hallways, the club rooms, the library, the fountain where the art and jewels were displayed, even see the entrance to the gala as well as the outside cameras. Everything was here all in 30 tiny screens. You smirked at yourself. 

They really knew how to cover bases when they needed to. No doubt they did an in depth review of every inch of the location to ensure tighter security. 

You quickly typed in a virus code, connecting your chip to the server and watching the file download. You glanced at the camera that pointed into the hall next to the room you were in. Still empty. A good sign but it also left you on edge. You needed to hurry. 

You watched the file download, turning green in completion as you quickly added it to the server and set the programming to start with the looped footage in 15 minutes. You needed to hurry and program your chip to delete footage from the past hour, coding it into the system as fast as possible. 

You froze at the sound of the handle of the door turning, your heart pounding in your chest as you quickly finished the code. At least if you were caught they wouldn’t be able to trace this back to you. You removed your chip and shoved it into the inside of your dress, replacing the pin into your hair as you moved away from the computers. 

The turning of the handle made you freeze, not wanting to take out the gun you had strapped to your thigh. You pressed your back against the wall, holding your breath as the door opened with a soft creaking before watching someone walk inside. A tall muscular figure walked into the room, probably a guard, you quickly rushed him from behind, feeling the turn of his body as the both of you slammed on the ground. 

“If you wanted to get on top of me, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart.”, your eyes snapped up to him, your body completely flush with his as his hands laid perfectly on your curves. You felt a heat rise into your face, the flexing of his fingers on your waist making you burn hotter. 

You pushed yourself off of him, fixing your dress and glaring at him. “You’re insufferable.”, you muttered as he smirked at you. 

“I planted my chips. We have 15 minutes.”, he rolled his eyes, ignoring your momentary frustration. “We need to move.”

He gestured for you to follow as both of you slipped into the hall and navigated through the ornate corridors of the building, blending seamlessly among the guests. You couldn't deny the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins; working with Jason was like walking on a knife's edge—exciting, unpredictable, and dangerous.

You both moved through the corridor, trying to make your way back to the main room in time to make your rounds before moving into the final stages of your plan. You’d haven't thought about Marcos and Calvi, knowing they’d probably be preoccupied in the sitting room doing their usual sketchy business. You didn’t see them on the cameras during your search earlier, but yet again, the probability of a secret room with no surveillance wasn’t too far off from what would be considered a possibility. Besides, it was better if Calvi stayed out of the way, especially when it would make things far more exhausting having to manage him and this operation. 

You tried to focus, your head swirling with a hundred different thoughts but if you lost even a minute detail, the whole operation would go to shit. Jason seemed a lot more focused, maybe the years of practice or just being gifted with that skill. Either way, it made him a good partner in all things criminal, even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud. 

Slipping back to the main room, everyone seemed to be within the grand walls of the ballroom, either socializing or in the middle of the open floor. You and Jason both slipped through the crowd, trying to make it back where Calvi and Marcos had left you before the harmonizing of orchestra instruments caused you to come to a sudden halt. 

Shit.

You could not get caught in this right now, it would set your entire plan back. You grit your teeth before turning to find confirmation in Jason to get out of this situation but your irritation grew when you looked over at him. You watched him extend a hand towards you, your eyes widened slightly in shock as you hesitated to touch his palm.

He could not be serious right now.

His eyes urged you forward, showing the seriousness in reminding you of the role you had to play tonight despite the reminders it gave you of your past. You couldn’t raise suspicion. 

You slowly grabbed his hand, letting him lead you onto the dance floor as the orchestra played a simple waltz. You felt him get into perfect position, your body moving in sync with his. It felt like he was almost trained to attend events like these, he truly did commit to the part but then again he was the son of Bruce Wayne. You were sure he had more experience with Galas than you did.

You recalled the moments you spent living with The Family, forced into a position of learning how to waltz and dance in order to better fit into the mold of their image. You didn’t mind it too much but you found it redundant, tiresome, tedious. 

Jason’s body moved in sync with the orchestra music, his movement smooth and in pace. You could barely keep up with him as he twirled you around before bringing you back in, your chests meeting each other as you sucked in a silent breath. You felt his breath slightly on your lips, your eyes meeting his as your faces hovered only inches from each other. You held his gaze as you saw an underlying burning in his eyes, they were dark and hazy almost like he was a man starved. You breathed, your lips parting as your eyes flickered down, focused on everything that had to do with him and nothing with the reason why you were here. 

You felt paused in time, like only you and him existed in this moment. Everything faded into nothing as the orchestra continued to play the waltz as it blurred into the background. You watched as his head tilted a millimeter, barely but enough to notice at the proximity you were at. His eyes flicked to your lips for a split second only to meet your eyes again. His body heat burned your skin, your pulse skyrocketing into a pounding sensation and slightly praying he couldn’t feel or hear it. His face was too close, his lips just a breath away from touching yours, everything in him burning at the proximity. 

The clapping from tonight's attendees broke you out of your trance, forcing you out of the moment you shared with Jason and snapping you into reality. You blinked, stepping back as he removed his body from yours only to give the traditional bow and walk away. You watched as he headed to the bar, your eyes looking around at everyone going back to their conversations and ignoring the people on the dance floor. 

What was that?

You felt a pang of emotion in your chest, your irritation brewing as you walked over to the bar where you watched him order another drink and down it in one go. You stood next to him, your heels helping you meet his eyeline as you tugged his arm back and forcing the green eyed man to look at you. 

“What was that?”, you whispered in a sharp tone, only loud enough for him to hear you. 

His hooded eyes looked at yours, he looked exhausted or maybe just drunk but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at that moment. Whatever was going on with him internally he needed to figure out outside of this mission before he ruined everything. Your eyes narrowed at him as a half-assed smirk appeared on his lips. 

“I’m keeping appearances, wasn’t that the plan?”, he said lazily, his demeanor completely changing. This wasn’t his usual act, so why was he putting it on?

“You’re going to blow our cover.”, your spit through clenched teeth. “You’re going to ruin everything.”

“I think we both know that’s not the reason you’re upset, sweetheart.”, he retaliated. 

“That wasn’t keeping appearances, Red!”, you whisper yelled at him, the burning in your eyes growing stronger as he stood upright. 

“Maybe not.”, he shrugged, his voice carrying a hint of something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion. 

You took a step closer, your voice a low murmur laden with urgency and frustration. "We have a job to do. This isn't about personal feelings or playing games."

“Yes, Ma’am”, he did a mocking salute before looking over your shoulder. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

Why did he become an asshole all of a sudden? You were about to spit something back at him before you felt a hand on your waist. 

“Vivian, Jason. Apologies for being gone so long, I hope the two of you were able to keep each other company?”, Calvi looked at you with deep eyes, his smile forced but he didn’t need to know you could tell. 

“Everything has been pretty calm here. I think they may start the dinner soon.”, you smiled at him as you felt the dark stare coming from Jason. 

“Then, let’s get to our tables shall we? Jason, I believe you and Marcos are with us tonight.”

“Let’s find our seats then.”, he pulled out a fake charming smile as he followed behind the both of you. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, the weight of your shared moment just a few minutes ago hung between the two of you. You couldn’t deny whatever pull Jason had on you, but you needed to shove the thoughts away. Outside of this job, he was still a name on your list of targets. 

Calvi pulled out your seat once you’d reached the other room where the dinner would proceed. Several other guests were already sitting at their tables as they surrounded the main stage, waiting for the speaker to come up for the night and proceed into the auction. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked at the clock on the wall. You had less than five minutes to find an opening or you would lose your only advantage. 

“Calvi, I need to step out for a moment. I'm just going to head to the washroom”, you asked trying to sound as calm as possible. 

“I'll accompany you, I have a call I need to make.”, Jason’s voice rang out, Calvi nodding slightly as he looked towards Jason. “I can walk with you."

“Thank you, Jason.”, you forced. “I’ll be back before they even start with the first round of appetizers and the opening speech.”, you placed a soft kiss on Calvi’s cheek, trying to keep up the appearance of his adorned partner. 

You followed behind Jason closely, his shoulders tense as he parted in the opposite direction once you exited the dining hall, leaving as you went into the women's restroom. You pushed the door open, opening the final stall and locking it behind you. You quickly removed the hidden compartment behind the wall. To anyone else it looked like the normal wall in the restroom, but you had managed to sneak your undercover clothing into the empty space behind it. You quickly removed your dress, pulling it off gently as you changed into the simple kitchen staff clothing. Black pants, black button up, non slip shoes and tying your hair into a bun. You had opted for makeup that was easy to put on and take off, quickly taking off parts of the eye shadow before letting yourself look more natural. The same with your hair as it only remained in a slicked back ponytail, making it easy to twist into a bun. You quickly put on the tie and the hat you had that the kitchen staff wore in order to hide your face. 

You quickly zipped your dress into a seal proof bag and shoved it into the wall along with your heels, fixing it before looking down at your watch. You had less than 2 minutes before you needed to look for the diamond, 8 minutes to find the case and retrieve it, all while keeping a low profile. 

You pushed through the door of the restroom and walked confidently through the halls, your eyes taking in the different cases being showcased around you with all the different jewels. Some of them remained in cases, but according to your plan book, it would be on display tonight for the auction. 

You paced through the halls, seeing dressed in all black Jason walk up next to you, his attire matching the security guards uniform as his words dropped into your ears. “We need to move quickly.”, he breathed as his eyes glanced over at the other servers moving through the halls carrying trays. 

You hummed in agreement, your focus sharp as you fell into step with him before breaking apart once again. He went towards the east wing and you to the west, both wings holding different jewels but only one holding the one you needed. 

45 seconds until the outage. 

You moved through the halls quickly. Your eyes skimming every jewel showcased on the mannequins that were also dressed in beautiful gowns and wore other expensive jewels. 

30 seconds. 

Jason paced the east wing, his eyes taking in every case, keeping a close watch on the cameras and making himself look as normal as possible. Being dressed in security clothing and observing the rooms would cease suspicion. It was the perfect cover. 

15 seconds. 

You felt your heart pound as you looked at the last of the people head into the dining hall. 

10 seconds. 

Jason felt a tug in his gut as he heard the announcer start speaking in the other room, signaling his opening in a few seconds. 

5 seconds.

You could hear the announcer in the other room, then complete silence before you heard the scream of one of the guests. The power had gone completely out and you watched the camera intently as the red light signaling its recording flickered off. You felt yourself go into overdrive, your body quickly searching through the mannequins as your watch gave you the alarm that you only had 8 minutes before the cameras and the security locks on the cases turned back on. 

Adrenaline surged through you as the darkness acted as your cover, the loss of power would only give you so much time. You knew each second counted, quickly moving as you scanned each mannequin with precision, your senses heightened due to the lack of light. The echo of distant voices carried down the hall, the subtle sound of rushed footsteps heightening your awareness. Your heart pounded in your chest every time there was a noise down the hall, but you couldn’t let your anxiety get to you if you were going to pull this off. You needed to focus on this and only this. You only hoped that if you couldn’t find the diamond here, Jason had it already. 

Time blurred as you felt the pressure slowly start to build as you felt the reality sink in. Where was it?! 

You looked at your watch, only having 4 minutes to retrieve what you needed, get back to the restroom and change, find Jason, and return to the dining hall before security inevitably took everyone to evacuate the building. The adrenaline and pounding of your heart only increased as you watched the time go down, Jason still not having sent the signal to your receiver that he had found it on his end. 

In the east wing, Jason felt himself struggling to keep his composure. He knew you only had mere minutes before the both of you would have to return empty handed or with the diamond in hand. He contemplated just taking a different diamond out of its place, but none of them would hold the same weight as Josephine would towards making a direct hit at Black Mask. Jason looked at his watch, not having received a signal from you yet. Would all of this have been for nothing?

His watch told him he only had 2 minutes left. His jaw clenched, the plan was to be back in the main room by the time 1 minute hit, he had to leave and get changed now if he was going to erase suspicion. 

Dammit.

He turned, rushing back to the restroom and quickly changing, shoving the clothes back into the hidden compartment behind the wall as he fixed his suit and swept his hair back in his neat, yet messy style he had when he had arrived at the event for the night. He walked out of the restroom, fixing his cuffs and trying to wipe the sweat from his forehead as he navigated carefully back into the main room, the sound of chatter and mild chaos breaking out as the announcer called for everyone to follow the guards leading them to exit the building. 

The hum of electricity signaled the return of power, followed by the faint buzz of security systems coming back online. Jason’s eyes moved through the crowd as he blended in, trying to find any sign of you within the sea of bodies. Everyone walked around him, the security yelling before Jason felt a hand grab him. 

“Jason!”, Marcos’ voice rang out. “C’mon. We have to go.”

“What happened?”, his voice deep in confusion although he wasn’t naïve to the situation. 

“Security breach. They’re evacuating everyone.”, Marcos said, annoyed as Jason followed next to him, his eyes still skimming through the crowd. 

Where were you?

“They don’t want to be at risk for a possible hit. Apparently there have been too many raids around the city targeting the luxury businesses in Upper Gotham.”, Marcos continued. 

Jason really couldn’t care at the moment, but he followed behind everyone as they made their way down the stairs and through the security checkpoint. The security were patting down each person, ensuring they didn’t carry anything from the inside out. It made Jason’s heart pump as he watched Marcos get patted down, him following closely behind as he continued to skim through the attendees getting checked by the line of guards. 

The guard rushed him forward after being checked, fixing his cuffs Jason looked over at Marcos as he called for his car. “Do you need a ride?”, Marcos asked silently. 

“No. I have my own car, thanks though.”, Why was he on edge? He was sure you’d gotten out, maybe you were already back at the rendezvous point. You both agreed to meet there in case anything fell through. His jaw tightened as he grew deeper in thought, waving mindlessly as Marcos left in his car and he walked through the streets until he reached his hidden motorcycle in the back alleys of the city. 

He placed the black helmet over his head, kicking up the motorcycle stand as he revved the engine to life, the screeching of tires sounding out as he drove through the city pushing his top speed. His unease gnawed at him as his mind raced through each second he spent on the road. He forced himself to remember you were smart, resourceful, and were probably the best to get out of a tough situation. Yet, the weight of uncertainty hung around him like a 500 pound weight.

His anticipation made him tighten his grip on the handles as he sped through the city streets, weaving through traffic with his timely precision he’d honed throughout the years. The wind enveloped him in a blanket, doing little to ease the anxiety growing in his bones. Every turn, every stoplight, it all heightened his sense of urgency. He needed to be sure you made it back safe, that you were in your apartment and didn’t get caught. 

As he pulled into the neighborhood, his focus intensified. He chose the familiar route he’d taken hundreds of times before, trying to find the fastest way to your apartment. He kicked down the stand on his bike as he left it in the alley, rushing up the stairs to your top floor apartment, his heart pumping faster no thanks to the stairs and the rush making him not even think about using the elevator. Each step, each floor, each second made his heart beat inside of him, he felt his anxiety creeping into his veins. 

He jumped the last few steps, using his long legs to hurry up the stairs two steps at a time as he finally reached the floor you lived on. He knocked with a rush, the seconds elongating into excruciating seconds as he paced. He knocked again, the sound echoing through the night, his pulse pounding in his ears as he waited. 

Did Calvi take her back to his estate?

Did she get caught looking for the diamond? 

Did she get lost?

Just as he was about to turn and knock again, the door swung open, there you stood in your golden dress, your hair done as perfectly as it was when you arrived for the event tonight and your makeup still flawless. Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, the silence hanging in the air as he stared at you with shock in his eyes, 

Relief flooded through him, overwhelming any lingering anxiety. "Y/n," he breathed, his voice rough with emotion.

“Jason.”, you breathed as you watched his eyes flicker into a calmness, almost like relief. “You didn’t use the window.” you said amused. 

Jason ran a hand through his hair as he let out an airy laugh. “Figured this was more suitable for the occasion.”

You moved to the side, letting him enter the apartment as you closed the door behind you and locking it silently. You felt your heart calm from the anxiety you felt at not being able to find him during the final moments of the Gala. You had gotten lost and when Calvi found you, he rushed you out the exit and brought you home in his private car. When you arrived the only thing you worried about was if Jason was able to remember your plan to meet back at your apartment if anything had gone wrong, hoping he’d eventually show. 

“I couldn’t find you after the power came back on.”, he muttered as he leaned on the kitchen table. “I didn’t find it.”

You met his gaze, letting the silence hover between the both of you as you let out a small laugh. Jason looked at you with confused eyes, his lips twitching as you laughed even harder. Were you laughing because the entire mission was a failure? Did you also fail in retrieving the diamond?

He watched you intently as you lifted the fabric to your dress, his hand twitching as it gripped the table. You showed off the part of your leg that held your gun, a small pouch attached to it. You carefully detached the small bag, your leg still on full display as Jason’s eyes lingered on your body, a flicker of lust burning inside of him as he forced himself to focus. 

He watched as you opened the small velvet bag slowly, placing the 12 carat diamond ring on a silk cloth on the counter. The deep blue color radiating a kind of beauty you couldn’t recreate in a lab, it was definitely one of a kind. You walked over to the small cabinet you had against the wall, taking out a kit used by high end jewelers to decipher the worth and validity of diamonds like this one. He watched you intently, wondering why you could pull out a diamond loupe unless you suspected it was fake. 

Though, he knew it was a good idea to do so. 

He watched as you held the diamond carefully, examining it in the light and under the loupe to look at every detail and intricate curve within the jewel. You tried to work carefully, using your knowledge to properly decipher the validity of the diamond or if everything tonight had been for nothing. Your hands moved gently as you used the different tools in your kit to check every aspect of the diamond to leave no doubt that it was real. 

The air between the two of you crackled with anticipation, the weight of your accomplishment hanging heavy in the room. Jason’s gaze flickered to you briefly, a smile hanging on his lips as he stood impressed by your resourcefulness and grace under pressure. 

It was a 50/50 chance that the diamond was actually real, especially since it wasn’t uncommon for high profile events to use fakes in order to not take the risk of something getting stolen, the insurance would surely cost them a fortune.

$48.6 million was a lot of money.

You left him on edge, wondering why your silence had prolonged as he watched you.

It had been 15 minutes. 

Was it a fake?

You pulled back, your shoulders slumping as you placed the diamond gently on the silk rag, a shuddered breath leaving your lips. He stood upright, his heart pounding at your body language. You slowly turned your head, meeting his gaze. 

"Congratulations, Jason," you praised softly, your words carrying a mix of admiration and pride. "You're officially a millionaire.”. You pushed your baby hairs back, trying to let yourself calm down from the high as you turned towards him. “Oh my god, Jas-”

Jason's response was immediate and primal. In one swift motion, he closed the distance between you, pressing your back against the kitchen counter. His hand slid possessively around the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he slammed his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. His other arm wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you flush against him, your body freezing at the sudden contact. Your heart pounded in your chest, your head spinning as he moved his lips against yours in a powerful and hungry way. His hold tightened as you moved your lips against his, breathing in his natural musk. 

His hold on you became desperate, possessive, his muscular arms wrapping around you to make your frame push against his even more. His lips moved in a dominant manner, biting your bottom lip as he let himself lose all form of self control. Your hands found their way to Jason's shoulders, fingers tangling in his tuxedo jacket as you responded to his kiss with equal fervor. His toned body flexing under your fingers almost like it burned him but it left him wanting more of you. 

The world outside faded away as you stood locked in a dance of desire and danger, your hearts beating in sync with the rush of adrenaline that still coursed through you. The kiss deepened, a testament to the electric connection that had sparked between the two of you amidst the chaos and danger of your mission. He couldn’t get enough of you, his mouth finally pulling away so the two of you could catch your breath. You opened your eyes slightly, looking at his hooded ones as his eyes flickered to your swollen lips. 

Was it the adrenaline? 

Was it the high? 

Was it him? 

Was it everything around you that led you to this moment?

“Jason…”, you whispered against his mouth as you tried to catch your breath. 

You couldn’t even catch your breath before his mouth devoured yours again, pressing his body against yours and pushing you against the wall behind you. His body hunched over slightly due to the height difference but his dominance was overwhelming, pushing you into overdrive. Your hands tangled in his hair, his lips leaving your mouth and kissing down the side of your neck. Your body shook from the pleasure, your nails digging into his arm as his hand reached your lower back and pulled you against him again. His teeth bit the curve of your neck slightly, licking the sensitive area as a soft moan released from your lips. 

In that stolen moment, as you kissed amidst the quiet of your apartment, everything else melted away—the heist, the risks, the uncertainty of your future. There was only the heat of the connection, the electricity that crackled between you, and the undeniable truth that you both had crossed a line you couldn't un-cross.

As you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, You looked up at Jason with wide eyes, your heart racing in sync with his. Jason rested his forehead against yours, your eyes locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes of unspoken promises and newfound intimacy.

“Jay…”, his name slipped from your lips in a desperate tone, your body betraying you by reacting to the final swipe he did on your skin, nipping on your neck before pulling back. 

“Y/n….”

Jason rested his forehead against yours, his voice husky as he murmured, "We did it."

You smiled, your fingers tracing lightly along Jason's suit. "Yeah, we did," you whispered, your lips swollen and missing his as you spoke.

In that moment, as you stayed in his hold and met his gaze in silence, you felt in your bones the truth of your relationship with him. Despite the anger, the hatred, the stupid hits at one another, Jason wasn’t the threat you believed him to be. The tension that had grown between the two of you, the moments of uncertainty where doubt had threatened to cloud your judgment, the anger that had been placed inside of you by Sionis, it all disappeared when you met his gaze.

You felt a familiarity in him, despite your denial, you couldn’t push it away. Not when there had been so many times he had helped you, taken you out of harm's way, and refused to make any hits that would result in serious harm. 

You’d believed for months that he was irritating, a nuisance, the bane of your existence and yet… here you were completely wrapped up in him.

The cold realization sank into your bones…

What have you done?

AN:

Hey guys!

I want to thank you guys for being so patient with me and the release of this chapter. Uni has been picking up and being between summer classes and fulltime at work, sometimes my posting has to get delayed! So i really appreciate the grace in this!

This series is hitting its mid way point, so there will be more picking up of everything pretty soon!

Also I have a few drafts of a JJK fanfic that I made, one with SukunaxReader and one with GetoxReader that I will be posting either while I write this series or after. I still haven’t decided yet!

Please continue to leave feedback and comments! I love reading them esp the personal messages i’ve received from many of you!

See you next week! xx.

[luvly-writer]

XOXO 💋

Ch. 2: She is as beautiful as she is poisonous

-•-

Tim Drake x reader

Fic + Social Media Au

Warnings: Blackmail, she’s a bitch a first, get to know her

Series: Ongoing

Author’s note: Enjoy! Feel free to leave feedback! It is always appreciated <3

Taglist: Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Masterlist:

How difficult Christmas time must be for all of those on the Upper East Side?

"Honestly, Tini, what do you get a woman who practically owns everything? I swear I have no idea what to get my mother for Christmas!" Y/n spoke on the phone as she carried quite a few bags in her arms. Dior, Channel, Yves Saint Laurent, if it's expensive and you can name it, it's there. "And to be even more honestly, I regret going Christmas shopping the same day Bartie is doing groceries. Seriously, I should learn to coordinate with my butler better, balancing all of this is getting preeetty difficult" she complained as she rearranged her bags again. "I didn't take the limo because I wanted some fresh air, you know how I get when it gets too stuffy" she laughed as she began to search for her purse. Because of so, she wasn't able to see the tired young man walking directly towards her. "It's silly, I know but- HEY!" and down she went with all her bags.

Tim had had a rough day. Between waking up to Dick and Jason singing Baby its cold Outside highly off-key just to piss off Bruce for making them patrol on one of the coldest nights of the year without their thermal suits; his secretary forgetting to send him a copy of the agenda for today's meeting causing him to practically have to improvise most of his points; Damian appearing on his office and refusing to leave his chair trying to establish dominance for "his future empire" to which if Tim had a say, he would absolutely not get if he kept on acting like this; and finally, with Steph who insisted they went Christmas shopping today only to ditch him and leave him stranded in the middle of the street with all of their presents with the excuse of having to repaint her closet which only translates to "I'm getting your present so bye bye". He was completely exhausted and the stitches on his shoulder were getting more painful by the hour with the cold. He had decided to get some coffee at a cafe down by Wellington Street and had been too caught on his thoughts to see where he was going.

//THUD//

"Hey!"

Tim's and Y/n's bags, both shopping and personal, simultaneously fell, getting mixed up in the way. Both reached down to catch their stuff as fast as they could.

"Sorry, I was-"

" not paying attention, yes I figured. S, I'll call you later, I have a little situation here. "

Tim was taken aback by the attitude he received from this random stranger...this totally absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous stranger who just so happens to not be a stranger at all. If all of his years being lectured about the hierarchy of the Upper East Side had served correctly, he was standing in front of one of the heiress of the city, Y/n Vanderbilt and she was the most dazzling woman he had ever seen...and just as bothered as she was gorgeous.

"Yeah" he said breathlessly, "that" Could he sound any dumber.

"Yes, That. Ugh! The ONE time I get out without Bartie and this happens. How many of these are yours?" said Y/n without looking up. She hadn't recognized him yet and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. Finally, their eyes met and she raised her delicate eyebrow at him and he swore his heart stopped for a second. "Have we met before?" she asked after taking a good look at him. He sure was handsome as hell. Pale skin, dark hair which was a little bit messy but it suited him, sharp suit and even sharper blue eyes who she swore she had seen before.

"Timothy, Timothy Drake Wayne" he replyed cooly.

"Hmm, a Wayne adoptee and a Drake socialite, Gotham Academy?"

"Yes, but I-"

"-Dropped out, yes. Yes, you did, I remember reading the news. Dropped out to become the CEO of Wayne Enterprises."

"Funny" he laughs out getting up after making sure that all of his stuff was there and then looking up at her. "Can't recognize me but seems to know all my business, miss Vanderbilt." he said snarkly.

"Important enough to know, yet simultaneously not enough to get to actually know" she said with a wolfish smile. Touche.

Y/n checked all her bags and smiled to herself. "Well then, mister Drake Wayne, lovely to meet you. Watch your step next time." She said as she looked at him dead in the eye. "Have a nice day, Timothy."

And she walked away, leaving him dumbfounded watching her go.

"Tim Tim Tim! You will not believe the boots i just got! They are sooooo comfortable and warm for night patrol. My toes were freezing last night....Tim? Hey, what's wrong? You have a dazed look in your eyes?

"I think I just met the love of my life...and shes kind of a bitch." said Tim, making Stephanie laugh and link her arms with his.

"Let's go hide these and you can tell me all about the supposed love of your life."

-•-

Y/n paced around her room trying to see where she would hide her presents. Shopping had helped distract her mind from the matter that had been plaguing her mind these last few days. Most of the bags had been cleared by now and she only had three left. As she cleared her final bag, she noticed something strange. Two files. She takes them out curious to see what these are. "Can't be part of my gifts...hmm...let's see"

She opens the first one and sees it is directed to Red Robin?

"What...?" she whispered to herself. "Ivy's exploits on the newest power plant close to Gotham Central Park make a solid case worth observation. Following up on her latest attacks with the reports of Red Hood and Black Bat, we begin suspecting where her next attack will play out....holy shit" Y/n whispered in amazement. She then looked at the rest of the file. Some red yarn here and there. A mixture of scribbles and computer manuscripts. Folded papers and a lot of red ink.

Then she looked at the next folder, a meeting agenda filled with notes directed to one Tim Drake Wayne..."wait a minute.."

These are directed to the same IP address..with the same handwriting, including the signatures...

"Tim Drake Wayne is Red Robin"Y/n smirked, "I believe I found a solution to my little problem"

Y/N went to get her cellphone quick and marked her driver's number. "Donnie, get the car ready, we have a little visit to make"

------

"Where is it?" Tim searched frantically throughout his apartment. In his work bag, there were two very important files. The first being the final agenda of the meeting he had today with all of the notes he took which he needed right now in order to send it back to his secretary. If she wasn't so busy making googly eyes at him, he wouldn't have to waste time on the job and focus on the case. Speaking off, Tim decided to search for that file and found that it was also missing. "Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw, if Bruce doesn't kill me, Batman will for loosing those two things. Where are those fucking THINGS?" If his apartment was a mess before, it was even worse now.

Thankfully, fate is such a humorous thing.

//kmock, knock, knock//

Close to a breakdown out of frustration, Tim walks towards the door only to be pleasantly surprised by a face that had not left his mind.

"Miss Vanderbilt, what a lovely surprise" said Tim as he opened the door, letting the young girl walk in.

"Yes, just as lovely as this apartment. Are you always this well kept?" She responded with sass. Making Tim chuckle, "No, but i made sure to decorate it like this just in case there was a posibility of a pretty Vanderbilt showing up."

"Funny, that won't last long." She said with a tight smile. "I'm here for business."

"What ever business could you have with a Wayne? Our parents are business partners, so there is not related to networking. You have much more money than all of my family combined, so it isn't that. Status won't be either, you are practically modern day royalty. So, what could it be? What..could..it..be?" he said aproaching her. He may be lacking 48 hours worth of sleep, but the detective in him was up and on high alert. You were picking the skin around your nails and your nose had this adorable twitch that could only mean nervousnes and the look in your eye was cunning with a tinge of desesperation. What could Y/n Vanderbilt want from him?

"I need you to be my fake boyfriend."

Tim had always been proud of being observant and with that, came the ability to not be surprised yet, never in his 22 years of life did he think that he'd have Y/n Vanderbilt, THE Y/n Vanderbilt, asking him to fake date her in HIS apartment.

"What's in it for me?" he asked skeptical of the situation.

"My silence, Robin Boy" she said as she got the two files he had been frantically searching for this entire time and showed them to him. "And don't try to deny it, the handwriting is the same, I had the pleasure of taking DNA samples and they match, and have seen enough videos to be well aware that you have the same body type. Oh and worry not, only i’m aware of this information. Unlike Miss Vale, I do have various PI's on speed dial, and the weight of the Vanderbilt name, so any information out of me will be credible." She said with a pretty smile.

"Pretty, cunning, and poisounus. Who would have throught." He said, not confirming nor denying anything.

"And I am sure Daddy Brucie dearest, would just love finding out one of his little birdlings let the family secret out, wouldn’t he?" she said looking at him dead in the eye.

Tim felt his heart stop. She knew about all of them.

"You have until monday, lover boy. My phone number is written in there. Call me when you have made up your mind and if you accept, make sure you clear up your schedule cause that meeting will take a long time. Kisses" She ended as she handed the files to Tim and saw herself out.

"This is officially THE worst and simultaneously best day ever" He said as he threw himself on the couch.

[sirhamburrger]

chapter 1: you don’t buy drinks at a gala

double life [kuroo x f!reader]

word count: 1247 || prologue (series masterlist) || next

tetsuro smiles politely and shakes the hand of one of his major stakeholders, subtly chancing a glance towards the de facto centerpiece of the ballroom. it's a majestic marble bust of some really old guy from greece, carved by a slightly less old guy from greece (still old). by the end of tonight, it'll probably end up in some rich businessman's private collection.

that is, if it doesn't cause an international incident tonight in this very hotel building.

his intel from various sources, including kenma and akaashi, says these master-thief wannabes have been planning this for months now, and the mediocre henchman he caught ahold of didn't even have to be tortured before he spilled. he noticed the security the second he walked in. he knows every man on the roster, and he knows these men aren't on the roster.

too easy, right? much too easy. the bad guys show up to steal the oversized paperweight. he pretends to be scared for a moment while yaku and bokuto swoop in and take them out. he bids the highest amount for it and boom - he's got a shiny new statue and a nice casualty-free night. everyone is happy.

“good evening, kuroo.”

and it looks like his evening just got all that much better.

he turns around and there she is, looking annoyed like she doesn't want to be here. and yet as the heiress to her own fortune, she's here anyway, stuck in the same boat as he is. she's breathtaking in her gown, the fabric hugging her curves just right.

“good evening, sweetheart,” he breathes. “you look stunning tonight.”

“yeah, well, i'll see you at the next stupid gala,” she mutters, already walking away. “you know i only do this to satisfy the tabloids, anyway.”

sadly, it's true. as two of the richest young people in gotham city, their non-existent relationship has been the subject of numerous magazines. he's tried to make the rumors true - on more than one occasion - but she just seems… cold. distant.

but tonight is the night this all changes.

hopefully.

“wait!” he finds himself calling out. 

she turns her head, looking surprised as his face reddens. her expression quickly morphs into one of impatience. 

“spit it out already, rooster-head. i’ve got other overconfident millionaires to say my perfunctory greetings to.” she crosses her arms over her chest, waiting expectantly.

“damn, she kinda just ate you up.” kenma yawns, and seconds later tetsuro hears the annoying sound of chips being crunched loudly - right into his ear, no less. “better hurry it up, casanova, they're going to give the signal in approximately eighty seconds.”

irritated, he nods his head just enough for the earpiece to pick up on his movement. “let me buy you a drink tonight, how about that?” he says in what he hopes is a nonchalant tone, praying she didn't notice him nodding to no one in particular like a psycho.

she fixes him with an expression which practically screams, are you serious? 

“you don't buy drinks at a gala, smartass.”

“my mistake!” he yelps, trying to maintain his composure. “let me just - grab-” he snatches two flutes of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter, almost knocking the poor man over, and he swear he sees her lips quirk upwards at the slip-up. not quite what he was going for, he thinks, but it's definitely a start.

“thank you,” she murmurs, a twinkle in her eye. their fingers brush as he hands the glass to her by the stem, and slowly he starts to lead her to the middle of the ballroom. thankfully, she follows. as they pass under the largest central chandelier, he's about to make the bold move of wrapping his arm around her waist, but then he hears kenma inhale sharply, and yaku’s slow, rattling breathing.

something’s not right.

“talk to me,” he mutters without moving his lips. “what do you see?”

the harsh clacking of a keyboard fills his ears. “we have visuals on unidentified trespassers. they're positioned in the gallery, near the bolts holding up the chandeliers. one well-placed shot and there'll be a shit-load of chandelier raining down on everyone on the ground floor.”

not good.

“yaku, where are you?” he says aloud now, urgency filling his voice. she looks at him like he's lost his mind, then turns to look up at where he's looking.

a masked gunman squeezes his way through the crowd to the railing of the gallery. he cocks his gun, aims.

and fires.

tetsuro growls out a swear, pushing her out of the way as a mountain of metal and crystal crashes down on top of them. he hears the slight choking noise she lets out as the impact of his tackle knocks the air our of her lungs, feels the sharp pain of a piece of broken crystal jabbing into his right arm. his left leg is pinned under the weight of the chandelier and he curses.

horrified, she wrenches herself out from under him, breathing heavily as she backs away slowly. “stay here, i'll get help, ‘kay?”

“go,” he says through gritted teeth. he watches her disappear into the panicked crowd, waiting until the last of the civilians has almost left to try extricating himself from under the chandelier.

“bro, that’s a nasty cut you got there!” bokuto swoops through the double doors over the heads of some awestruck finance guys. “yaku’s out of commission, by the way. he got shot with some kind of sedative.”

“isn't he, like, the flash?” tetsuro says dryly, wincing slightly as the kryptonian lifts the huge light fixture with his superhuman strength. rolling to the side, he lies on the ground, catching his breath. bokuto offers him a hand, and he grabs on, allowing his friend to pull him up. he presses a button on his watch, and the suit materialises over his body like a second skin. “dodging attacks is kind of his thing.”

“he says he didn't even hear or feel it coming.” bokuto signals to akaashi that it's safe, the cyborg leaps down from the gallery, sending dust spiraling into the still air as he lands. “we took out the henchmen, but there's something off.”

it was never really about the statue, was it?

just then a figure breaks through the drywall to their left, groaning loudly as they lay in the rubble. the huge cloud of dust obstructs their view almost completely. 

“you think?” akaashi says dryly. tetsuro fires up his stun-gun.

“identify yourse-”

“shut up, asshat.” the gruff, annoyed voice carries through the still air, albeit hoarser than usual. “joker and ace are waiting outside, by the way. i hope they get you.”

“nice to see you again, nightwing,” he says, deadpan, as akaashi goes to check on her. “glad to know you haven't changed a bit since the last time we met.”

her escrima sticks - batons wired with high-voltage tasers - lie on the floor beside her, and she sweeps them up into her grasp as she gets to her feet, walking back in the direction she was thrown from. “neither have you,” she retorts. “good to know. now, are you just going to stand back and watch as i take them on myself?”

tetsuro balls his fists up. she’s damn near insufferable when she gets like this. 

superman laughs. “damn, she kinda just ate you up-”

“shut up, bokuto.”

he steels his resolve, and they all follow her into the inevitable danger that awaits.

author's notes:

so this is a miraculous ladybug kind of situation ig?? where kuroo loves reader and hates nightwing and reader hates kuroo and loves batman

ace isn't a canon dc villain as far as i know, but you'll see who it is later :) i'm kinda proud of this idea

not much to say tbh

TAGLIST: @kr1nqu, @weezerbby, @honeytwo (open, send an ask to be added!)

© sirhamburrger 2024

[ginevrastilinski-ocs]

New Ocs!

I have new ocs to introduce, some that aren’t on my masterlist yet (but I’ll add them soon, I promise) (I have too many Gotham ocs, I know that I’ll probably scrap some of them, but until then...)

Shadowhunters

Marceline Seymour - Mundane (with Sight); future Elys’ girlfriend

Her faceclaim is Holland Roden!

Vincent “Vice” Verlac - Shadowhunter; Nico’s best friend (and ex boyfriend); just wants to be a singer; doesn’t care about fighting;

His faceclaim is Charlie Gillespie!

Descendants

Esme Balthazar - daughter of Edgar Balthazar; cat lover; her and Carlos are besties; ship TBD

Her faceclaim is Maria Ehrich!

Celestine - daughter of Blue Fairy

Her faceclaim is Maude Apatow!

Bernadette “Bernie” Poppins - daughter of Mary Poppins and Bert; twin sister of Armie

Her faceclaim is Millie Bobby Brown!

Armie Poppins - child of Mary Poppins and Bert; twin brother of Bernie

His faceclaim is Noah Schnapp!

Gavin - son of the White Knight; sweetest boy ever; 

His faceclaim is Matt Cornett!

Brielle - daughter of the Red Knight

Her faceclaim is Sadie Soverall!

Rowan Cheshire - child of the Cat of Cheshire and Redacted; 

Their faceclaim is Joy Sunday!

Glee

Jean St James - sister of Jesse St James; the sweetest girl in town; already famous singer

Her faceclaim is Olivia Rodrigo!

Maya Puckerman - younger sister of Noah Puckerman; Cheerio; New Directions memeber; wasn’t there for the first season for reasons lmao

Her faceclaim is Alexia Demie!

Mirabelle Ryder - Cheerio; no plot just vibes

Her faceclaim is Sofia Carson!

Morgan Smith - Cheerio; one of the Originals New Directions member; future Broadway star; (maybe a Rachel ship... tbd)

Her faceclaim is Lili Reinhart!

Melanie Jay - Football Player at McKinley (the only girl in the team); New Directions Memeber; basically girly girl who likes to play football and sing and that can kick your ass

Her faceclaim is Hailee Steinfeld!

Dulcinea “Dulcie” Klempt - niece of Isabelle Wright; famous dancer

Her faceclaim is Kristine Froseth!

Ezekiel “Zeke” Wright - son of Isabelle Wright; hates being famous; just wants a normal teenage life; hides in Lima for not handle New York shit

His faceclaim is Dylan Sprayberry!

Stranger Things

Effie Munson - Eddie Munson’s younger sister; probably a Robin ship (TBD)

Her faceclaim is Emma Mackey!

Sunny Henderson - Dustin Henderson’s older sister; Steve ship

Her faceclaim is Haley Lu Richardson!

Ethan Clifford - sweetest guy in all Indiana; ends up in the middle of the Hawkins Supernatural Chaos by accident

His faceclaim is Joshua Bassett!

Gotham

Annalise Pennyworth - niece of Alfred Pennyworth; Bruce (potential Bruce x Selina) ship

Her faceclaim is McKenna Grace (and probably Meg Donnelly when she’s older but... TBD)!

Margaret Gordon - young sister of Jim Gordon; the darling of the GCPD (does she work there? No) 

Her faceclaim is Florence Pugh!

Virginia Falcone - daughter of Carmine Falcone; sister of Sofia and Mario Falcone; (don’t know about her for the vigilante thing... I’m more towards yes but not sure yet)

Her faceclaim is Zoey Deutch!

Karina Wayne - aunt of Bruce Wayne; Wayne Enterprices’ heiress (at least half of it); future vigilante (name tbd)

Her faceclaim is Anne Hathaway!

Vera Wayne - twin sister of Bruce Wayne (or at least this is what they think... spoiler: she isn’t)

Her faceclaim is Millie Bobby Brown!

Myra “Hel” Mooney - niece of Fish Mooney; rich bitch energy 

Her faceclaim is Savannah Lee Smith!

Penelope Fisher - private detective; just wants to know what the fuck is going on in Gotham; the law can’t stop her lmao

Her faceclaim is Emma Stone!

Elijah Crow - no plot just vibes; vigilante for sure but name TBD

His faceclaim is Dominic Sherwood!

Mireille Lacroix - first and only daughter of an elite family of Gotham; future vigilante (name TBD)

Her faceclaim is Dove Cameron!

[imnotobsessedwfictionalchracters]

DC OC's Basic Information

Hey y'all! I'm Z/El and thank you so much for being interested in my OC's!

Here is the link to my Main Masterlist and My Navigation and my OC OC Masterlist

Just starting here, I am white. My characters are white. That being said, for the stories (such as Bex's) obviously I have main characters that aren't and if I ever write anything that isn't correct and is offensive, please correct me and I will fix that and apologize in advance.

Anyways, here is the basic information on all of my characters!

Name: Ashlea Elisabeth Moore

Also Called: 

Ash

Birthday (Zodiac): 

April 22nd of 1985 (Taurus)

Where They Were Born: 

Clarksville, Tennessee

Job: 

Waitress Photojournalist Journalist (Writing/Reporting) News Anchor

Family (Their DOB If Known)

Mother: Elizabeth Moore (1964) Father: General Michael Moore (1964) Brother: Dorian Moore (1979) Brother: Avery Moore  (1982) Sister: Ryleigh Moore (1988) Sister: Arielle Moore (1992) Sister: Jesika Moore (1995) Husband: Clark Kent (May 3rd of 1987) Son: Jonathan Michael Kent (June 9th of 2012) Daughter: Taylor Martha Kent (May 14th of 2015)

Description:

Dark Brown Hair Curly Hair  Dark Blue Eye color Glasses (Wears Contacts) Favorite Color is a Dark Violet 175.514 cm (5’9.1)

Face Claims

Child: Emily Carey Adult: Paget Brewster

Name: Lydia Taylor Swan

Also Called:

Lyds Sibyl

Title:

CEO Heiress Head

Birthday (Zodiac):

May 20th, 1979 (Taurus)

Where They Were Born:

Gotham City

Job:

CEO of Swan Industries

Family (Their DOB If Known):

Mother: Elsa Swan (1958-1995) Father: Sebastian Swan (1959-1995) Brother: Sebastian Ryan Swan (1981) Sister: Elsa Elizabeth Swan (1984) Brother: Alexander Beck Swan (1989) Boyfriend: Jeremiah Wood (1979) Boyfriend: Oliver Queen (May 16th of 1978) Boyfriend: Jack Bennet (1978) Husband: Bruce Wayne (April 7th of 1975) Adopted Son: Richard “Dick” John Grayson (March 20th of 1990)  Adopted Son: Jason Peter Todd (August 16th of 1996-Summer of 2012)  Adopted Son: Timothy “Tim” Jackson Drake (July 19th of 1998  Adopted Daughter: Cassandra “Cass” Cain (January 26th of 1996 Step-Son: Damian Al Ghul-Wayne (August 9th 2004) Daughter: Elisa Mary Wayne (December 14th of 2015)

Description:

Dark Blonde Hair Straight Hair  Dark Green Eye Favorite Color is a Dark Grey-Cyan/Lime Green 178.9684 cm (5’10.46)

Face Claims:

Amanda Seyfried & Emily VanCamp

Name: Rebecca Dylan Pixie Evans

Also Called:

Bex Star Hummingbird

Birthday (Zodiac): 

January 13th, 2005 (Capricorn)

Where They Were Born:

Blüdhaven

Job:

Waitress Journalist (Writing/Reporter)

Family (Their DOB If Known):

Mother: Rebecca Evans (1988) Father: Jonathan Weir (1988) Boyfriend: Joey Ventiligo (2004) Boyfriend: Steven Wheeler (2005) Boyfriend: Damian Wayne (August 9th of 2004)

Description:

Black Hair Curly Hair Hazel Eyes Glasses Freckles Favorite Color is a Dark Blue 177.8762 cm (5’10.03)

Face Claims:

Child: Reagan Revord Teen: Leighton Meester Adult: Elizabeth Olsen

Story:

The Evans Girls

Name: Taylor Marie Williams

Also Called: 

Tay

Birthday (Zodiac):

October 14th, 1992 (Libra)

Where They Were Born:

Cookeville, Tennessee

Job:

Librarian PR Manager for Wayne Enterprises

Family (Their DOB If Known):

Mother: Gwendolyn Williams (1957) Father: Peter Williams (1952) Boyfriend: Jason Todd (August 16th of 1991)

Description:

Black Hair Straight Hair Blue/Green Eyes Favorite Color is an Almost Black Pink 176.4284 cm (5’9.46)

Face Claim:

Mary Elizabeth Winstead

[fastlikealambo]

Hey y’all!

I’m Jane and this is my fanfic masterlist! Here you can find all my trash fics and I’ll make sure to update it as time passes :)

MARVEL

DAREDEVIL

WHERE HANDS TOUCH: MATT MURDOCK X READER

link

summary: dating the devil of hell’s kitchen has it’s ups and downs, especially since you’ve got the power to heal your boyfriend who insists on going out night after night to keep your city safe.  you’ve seen each other through dark times but nothing can prepare you both when your body reaches its breaking point.  trigger warnings for illness,  injury care and a guest appearance from matt murdock’s catholic guilt Please don’t interact if you are not 18+

BURDEN OF PROOF: MATT MURDOCK X READER

link

summary: your boyfriend Matt Murdock told you to trust the law, to trust him to get you through what had to be the worst time of your life.   but he lost your case, the justice system failed you, and you’re teetering on the edge of chaos. something in the dark is calling to you and now you find yourself heading down a road that even Daredevil is too scared to follow.  trigger warnings for  reference to non con ( not matt)  and violence.  Please don’t interact if you are not 18+.

 MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT: MATT MURDOCK X READER

link

summary: crime prince and disbarred lawyer Matt Murdock is back in Hell’s Kitchen after the death of his father.  though the throne to Hell’s Kitchen falls to him, his decision to clean up his city is shocking.  his first act? marrying a former nun. You’ve got medical bills to pay, he needs an angel by his side, and thus a match made in heaven and hell is born. dom!matt x reader because i have no self control. trigger warnings for violence, chronic illness, matt murdock hating all your clothes.  Please don’t interact if you are not 18+.

ZEALOT: MATT MURDOCK X READER

link

summary: Someone is recreating the most grisly deaths of saints using the residents of Hell’s Kitchen.  Every crime scene is different and there’s no trail for the police nor Daredevil to follow.  As bodies begin to pile up and the city hold its breath, a troubled young woman who claims to hear the voice of God is placed in Matt’s path and nothing will ever be the same. trigger warnings: violence, angst, smut, mental health discussions, praise k!nk,  blood,  i make matt cry in all my fics it’s the law.  do not interact if you are not 18+ 

AVENGERS

BRIDE OF THE WITCH AND THE WIDOW: WANDANAT X READER

link

 summary: once upon a time, two powerful women in love founded a small village, taking a woman from the village every ten years to be their bride and in turn teach them the ways of magic and combat so there would always be someone to protect the village.

in the year 2022, that little village is now called westview, new jersey and the women are now nothing more than a bedtime story.  your hometown is falling apart and the arrival of two mysterious women offering to buy the entire town has everyone on edge as their offer comes with one stipulation: a bride from the town.

guess who’s decided to volunteer as tribute?

trigger warnings:  smut, violence, others to be added soon. please do not interact if you are not 18+

DC

THE BATMAN 2022

THE HEIRESS: BRUCE WAYNE X F!READER X SELINA KYLE

link

summary: being adopted into one of the most wealthy families in Gotham would have been a dream come true if it were any other family but yours. when your beloved grandfather dies and names you the heir to everything,  all hell breaks loose and the only people who don’t want you dead are your exes Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle.

trigger warnings: violence, blood,  injuries, mentions of abuse, illness, soft dom!selina  switch! bruce,  praise k!nk, someone said bruce wayne cries after sex and i support this. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE NOT 18+

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: Seed Uprooted

Heiress of Gotham

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary: After the loss of your mother, it feels as if all hope is lost. Fortunately, you’ve been placed in the care of your absentee father. The Wayne name has always been said to come with a few odds and ends that you’d have to get used to, the question is: will you?

Warnings: Angst, Anti-Police themes, Cursing, Death, Depression themes, Orphanage

Words: 1.5k

A/N: This has actually been in my drafts and in my docs for... at least three years, I know. It's been rewritten at least twice, and I'm finally deciding to put it out there.

I remember that day. I remember exactly where I was when I’d found out. And I remember the moment I met him.

The high-pitched ringing gives permission for us to finally leave the classroom, Mrs. Gurdept’s earlier demand that “the bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do.” did not divert anyone’s attention from packing up. Backpack already strung across your shoulders, you’re out the door along with everyone else. While your friend Daisha talks about how annoying the classmate is that sits next to her in History, it’s the uniformed men coming your way that catches your attention. It’s the BPD: the Bludhaven Police Department. Parting the sea of students the police officer’s eyes scan the faces of the students passing them. Heart rate rising, you try to keep your eyes on Daisha, determined to look engaged in conversation enough to skate past them without questioning.

“Miss?” One of the officers steps in front of you, blocking your path. Eyes immediately jumping up to his face, you scowl. “Can you answer a few questions for me?” Rumor has it they’re looking for Perdy Chapman, one of the sophmores who supposedly ran away from home once he’d been ousted as a drug runner for Marin’s gang; worst part was… he was funny, nice, and a straight A student. Officer reaching into the pocket on his breast, the white glimpse of a folded paper is barely seen before you respond. There’s no doubt it was some sappy photo of your classmate that you most definitely don’t want to see.

“No, I’m sorry, Officer. We’re late to practice!” Instantly grabbing Daisha’s hand you tug her along behind you, speedwalking toward the exit. She doesn’t question you; most of the kids know by now: never talk to the police. If you haven’t done anything wrong, then there’s no reason to talk to them. They’re all corrupt anyway.

Sitting on top of the cement barriers blocking off the parking lot from the kiss-and-ride line, Daisha playfully smacks your arm. “‘We’re late to practice’? Are you kidding me? You were so fucking quick with that!” A fit of laughter consumes the both of you, the imagined frustrated looks upon the cop’s faces bringing you practically to tears. It takes a while to calm down, the conversation turning into gossip, and eventually into Daisha sharing some of the memes she’d recently seen online. 

“Do you think it’s gonna rain?” The question leaves your lips as your eyes watch the dark, ominous clouds roll through the sky. A wet smell of oncoming rain lingers in the air like the humid and hot summer nights in the Carnaveron District. 

“Well… if the clouds aren’t an obvious sign, I’d say yes,” she teases. The three short honks are our signal: her mom is here. Jumping off the cement barrier we head over to the spot she’s parked in line, a soft drizzle makes itself known as the drops plunk the roof of the car. Daisha sweeps you into a quick hug before getting into the car, the duo waving goodbye before driving off. Since you don’t live far, it’s easier to walk. It’s the one part of your routine that consistently brings you joy. The breeze and gentle pitter of rain on your skin helps clear your head of all the school drama. Off toward home, you find yourself beginning to get lost in thought about tonight’s homework assignments and what you have to do. It’s only the buzz of the cell phone in your pocket that brings you back to reality. “Auntie?”

“It’s your mother. Get to the hospital as soon as you can. Cuidate, mija.” The dial tone signals the call’s ended. Frozen there on the sidewalk, time doesn’t seem to pass; thunder rumbles in the distance, it’s the only thing that reminds you that time is still moving. It starts to sprinkle rain.

~~~Two Hours Later~~~

Technically you were an orphan… at least that’s what you’d thought. Legally they were mandated to send you to a state-run orphanage. Everyone probably thinks they don’t exist today, and yet, there it was… right in front of you, open and waiting: the gates of purgatory calling your name. Though on the borders of Bludhaven and the streets that lead toward the country part of the state, the building looks like any other. Brown bricks, tall elongated windows; it would look like a ghastly warehouse to you from the outside if you didn’t notice the tricycle on the lawn, or the chalk drawings on the sides of the building and sidewalk leading up to it. 

“I have to take this call, excuse me,” the social worker steps away from the black Hatchback Sedan. Lost in your own world, it doesn’t even occur to you to eavesdrop on her call. There’s no possible way that things could get worse than this. Nonetheless, many ‘mhms’ and ‘okay, I understands’ are heard throughout the field adjoining the driveway. The grey clouds finally starting to disperse, it’s quiet out here, the only murmur of your social worker talking and the occasional passing car fill the air. Just as the numbness starts to churn in your stomach at the thought of your Mom, there’s a knocking on the car window.

“Damn!” There’s an exasperated and ludicrous look in her eyes. “Someone’s got one hell of a guardian angel lookin’ out for you, kid. Follow me.” Even if she’s audible through the glass, she doesn’t wait to check as she turns and heads toward the orphanage’s entrance. Though thoughts of running away cross your mind, there’s no logical reason to do so. What’s left out here for me? Nothing.

Once inside of the building you're told to sit tight on one of the wooden benches by the entrance office. Though the social worker chats with the warden, you don't pay them any mind. Their words go in one ear and out the other, your fiddling fingers in your lap far more entertaining as you try and comprehend what the toll of your mother's death will have on the rest of your life. Sixteen, and no longer any semblance of security in any realm of matter toward your future. How did this happen?

It feels as if it's instantaneous, yet the wall on the clock shows over half an hour has passed. Doors creak open with the cool ocean-ladened post-rain wind, an older man closes the umbrella he'd been holding over the younger-looking man who strides into the building with a sort of conviction that only exists through the air it permeates. They both are adorned in long trench coats and sunglasses, though the younger wears a black hat.

"Lisa! I assume this is her," the broad man addresses your social worker before turning his gaze down toward you. With the click of the door's lock as it seals shut, all noise diminishes in the halls of the orphanage aside from the faint echo of children's laughter in the distance. The building instantly warms by a few degrees and the men take off their sunglasses, pocketing them. Mouth subconsciously falling agape, you recognize one of them. The man standing before you is one you've only seen all your life on billboards, television, and in magazines: Bruce Wayne. He crouches to your eye-level.

"Yes, this is-" Lisa, the name of the woman you'd only known as your social worker, begins to introduce you. What follows truly feels like some sort of grief-stricken concoction of fantasy, and though it might be dangerous, you follow it.

It isn’t until the car pulls up to the massive and ornate double doors that you snap out of it. “This isn’t a joke?” He must be tired of it: this most likely being the fifteenth time you’ve asked such a thing in the last hour.

“No. It’s not,” while one might pick up on the disappointed tone in his voice, Bruce Wayne offers a small, sympathetic smile. His hand gently comes to rest on your shoulder, leading you out of the clean, sleek Rolls Royce.

“It’s a pleasure, Miss,” the elderly man states your name in a titular way. Taken aback, he hardly registers in your mind. Too many thoughts and emotions consume you, leaving nothing but a rapidly beating heart and a million questions tucked inside the body of a young girl. The fields had turn back into factories, factories into skyscrapers, skyscrapers into trees, and by then you’d finally come onto the property. In the dark there wasn’t much to take in; light illuminating windows upon rows of windows that span so far you wonder for a moment if they ever stop. Yet the edge of the mansion can be spotted from your place by the door, too weary to step inside.

"Are you coming?" Bruce Wayne, himself, asks you.

"I'm afraid if you stand out there all night you'll catch a cold," the older gentleman, whom you've already forgotten the name of, warns.

"That reminds me, Alfred, please go set up a bath for her. I'll take her upstairs," Bruce delegates. Though you wouldn't know it for months, he decided to give you a moment. Waiting at the door, he remembers the hours and days that followed his own parents' death. He's well aware that this is undoubtedly a big moment for you, if not the biggest in your lifetime, and thus, a little patience won't hurt.

"This is..." you can barely even come up with a sentence, let alone a string of thoughts as you take in the palace before you.

"-your new home? Yes." He finishes the thought for you.

~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @ohdamnadam, @safarigirlsp, @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

DC OC Masterlist

Arrowverse || Gotham || The Batman || Titans

Name: Amber Harkness

Story: Untitled

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Holland Roden

Love Interest: Jason Todd & Roy Harper

Name: Aurélia Agreste

Story: Draconis

Series: From The Ashes

Fandom: Batman & Miraculous Ladybug

Face Claim: Dove Cameron

Love Interest: Luka Couffaine

Barely a month after her mom disappeared, Aurélia Agreste had found herself shipped off to New York to represent the Agreste Brand in America, guided by none other than Audrey Bourgeois herself.  No consideration to Aurélia’s feelings, no consideration to how hard it would be for Adrien to lose his twin so soon after losing their mother; Aurélia reminded Gabriel too much of Emilie, so Aurélia had to go.  The time apart is hard on both twins, barely allowed to keep in touch and both crumbling under the pressure and lack of freedom that define both of their lives, but one day, it all changes.

Three years of no contact later, Aurélia finds herself under Gabriel’s orders to pack up and prepare for her flight back to Paris, the first since her mother disappeared.  When she returns to the mansion, she finally finds out why — Adrien is being allowed to return to school, and her father wants her to keep an eye on him.  That’s easy, really, she’s been doing it for her whole life.  Proper school for the first time in her life is a brand new battlefield, and that’s before a new villain rises up with an uncanny fixation on her class.  

But Aurélia didn’t spend almost four years sneaking out to Gotham for nothing, and a city-turned-warzone puts her right back into her element, with a confidence that only comes from years of training and fighting far worse villains.  Besides, Hawkmoth’s plans couldn’t account for the farewell present that Bruce Wayne hid in her suitcase.

Name: Avalyn Dorsey

Story: Bleeding Heart

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Willa Holland

Love Interest: Dick Grayson

Name: Daisy Quinn

Story: Darkest Little Paradise

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Anya Taylor Joy

A few years after The Joker’s arrest, Harley and Ivy are ready to retire. Through a combination of Harley’s smarts, Ivy’s powers, and the also retired Dr. Freeze’s scientific skills, Daisy Quinn is born. A half plant, biologically impossible daughter of Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. Daisy is raised to be normal, in a cute farmhouse far from Gotham, and has no idea about her family history. But when some clown kidnaps her moms, Daisy will do anything to get them back - no matter what secrets she digs up along the way.

Name: Dinah Holly Queen

Story: Paper Rings

Fandom: Green Arrow / Batman

Face Claim: Brianne Howey

Love Interest: Dick Grayson

Name: Elinor “Elektra” Cross

Story: Lazarus Rising

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Madison Davenport

Love Interest: Jason Todd

Name: Emilie Wayne

Story: Untitled

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Kaya Scodelario

Name: Emma Gordon

Story: Untitled

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Abigail Cowen

Love Interest: Tim Drake & Stephanie Brown

Name: Fiona Fletcher

Story: Untitled

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Crystal Reed

Love Interest: Dick Grayson & Roy Harper

Name: Florence Pennyworth

Story: Untitled

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Lily Collins

Love Interest: Dick Grayson

Name: Jessie Jordan

Story: Chasing Stars

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Erin Moriarty

Love Interest: Dick Grayson

Name: Josette Cobblepot

Story: Teenage Tragedy

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Olivia Holt

Love Interest: Jason Todd

Name: Julietta Drake

Story: Seven Devils

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: India Eisley

Love Interest: Jason Todd

Julietta Drake remembered what it was like to be happy. To be a child in Gotham, raising her baby brother, the perfect little heiress who got everything her heart desired; everything except for parents who were around. But that was before.  Before the League. Before Talia al Ghul. Before she was taken to Nanda Parbat — to Ra’s.

Even then, there were good days. Days when Jason was awake; cognisant. Days when he saw both she and Damian not just as a mission but as the people he loved. Days when Ra’s felt merciful enough to leave her little patchwork family in peace. Days when she could almost forget the bad ones.

Then they took Damian away. Only just four years old, but old enough to embrace his destiny. Losing Damian broke her irreparably, a piece of her lost that she would never get back. Her lifeline for almost five years, ripped from her arms and thrust into the tragic fate she’d tried to shield him from. Jason left soon after; vanished into the night without even a word. She was alone. Alone until Talia decided to let her go — out of pity or something more untoward, Julietta still didn’t know. Unteathered, her life in pieces, she found her way back to Gotham, to the only home she’d ever known.

The Gotham she returns to is unlike anything she could have expected.  Somehow darker, even more haunting than she remembered, the city suffocated her in a way that it never had before.  But the changes helped her realize something; she couldn’t go home.  Not without a plan, an explanation, an apology.  So she stayed in the shadows, watching, waiting, until the day she saw the headline of the Gotham Gazette announcing that Bruce Wayne’s son, Damian, had returned home to his father.  And the picture below it, somehow now ten years old, was Damian al Ghul.

Julietta wastes no time in going to Wayne Manor, determined to have her questions answered.  Only, instead of Damian opening the door, she’s greeted by the last face she ever expected.  Tim Drake.

Name: Kinsley Kord

Story: Until We Go Down

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Shelley Hennig

Love Interest: Dick Grayson

Once upon a time, the Titans had been the best part of Kinsley Kord’s life.  They’d been her closest friends, her family, her life.  And then they were gone.  All it had taken was one battle to destroy everything that Kinsley had once held dear, and she had become the first to leave, to start over.  She hadn’t heard from any of them in ten years, only knowing that they were alive thanks to the Gossip Girl rumour mill and her own secret investigations.  She missed them all dearly and she always would, but she never expected to see any of them again.

And then Dick Grayson walks into her bakery, begging for her help to finish the fight that had destroyed their team a decade earlier.

Name: Kora al Ghul

Story: Untitled

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Summer Bishil

Love Interest: Bruce Wayne

Name: Laurence Queen

Story: Untitled

Fandom: Green Arrow / Batman

Face Claim: Alex Fitzalan

Love Interest: Dick Grayson

Name: Leonie Murphy

Story: Luck Be A Lady

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Kathryn Newton

Love Interest: Dick Grayson

Leonie Murphy had always been told that she was too curious for her own good, ever since she was a little girl.  And it was true, she would admit it, that’s why she became a reporter.  It’s also why she was such a good reporter, in her opinion.  Despite all the scoldings from her boss about pissing off the Gotham elite, all the lectures from Nightwing about getting too close to a fight, all the friends she’d lost because of her desire to know everything, she couldn’t let go of her need for answers.  But she never expected it to come back to bite her in the ass, at least not as spectacularly as it did.

Name: Liara Bynes

Story: Untitled

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Zoey Deutch

Love Interest: Dick Grayson

Name: Lory Tetch

Story: Chasing Rabits

Fandom: Batman / Titans Comics

Face Claim: Jenna Ortega

Love Interest: Dick Grayson & Wally West

Name: Sara “Scout” Porter

Story: Untitled

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Kat McNamara

Love Interest: Jason Todd

Name: Tessie Vannelli

Story: Mad World

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Anya Taylor-Joy

Love Interest: Dick Grayson

Name: Thomas Wayne

Story: Draconis

Series: From The Ashes

Fandom: Batman & Miraculous Ladybug

Face Claim: Thomas Doherty

Name: Virginia Grayson

Story: Untitled

Fandom: Batman

Face Claim: Nina Dobrev

Love Interest: Roy Harper

Name: Wren Grayson

Story: In Sweetness

Fandom: Batman / Titans Comics

Face Claim: Rachel Zegler

[fanficmepage]

Chapter 20

Masterlist

Pervious

Next

Bruce was barely able to get her down for the night. Raven continuously pressed the flying issue. Even fighting off her own sleepiness just to get an answer from her father. The constant apology text from Clark did not alleviate his stress. The sun shone through his window. Rolling over, a pair of lavender eyes stared at him.

“Sweetie, why are you awake?” He groaned.

“Farm Day!” Raven shook her father as hard as she could (barely moved his arm). “Daddy, it's farm day!”

6:30

Bruce stared at the clock then back down at her, “Princess, you only slept a few hours, go back to sleep.”

“But it's daytime.” She climbed up on the bed, trying to pull him off of it.

He sighed, pushing the sheets off his body. “Metropolis better not turn you into a morning person.”

A knock at the door immediately drained any form of energy Bruce had. Swinging open the door, Clark stood with his usual bright smile.

“Morning Bruce!”

“What did you do to my child?” Bruce glared daggers.

Raven up in front of her father, hugging his legs. “She looks fine?”

“Clark. What. Time. Is. It.”

“Six? Oh, sorry I meant to be here earlier. Were you two waiting for me?”

“Early?” Bruce sighed, walking back into the penthouse. He squinted at the light shining through the window, throwing the curtains shut. “One day in Metropolis and she is already waking up at the crack of dawn.”

“Dawn was half an hour ago, actually… Anyways, have you read the paper?”

“Clark, I woke up less than five minutes ago.” Clark tossed the paper over to the extremely tired man. “You’re on the cover of Entertainment.”

Gotham takes over Metropolis

‘Bruce Wayne talks business in Metropolis with the new Princess of Gotham: Raven Wayne.’

“Why is she writing about Raven?”

“Well, you really didn’t give her much to work with. She had to write something to get people to read. Why not the Wayne heiress?”

Bruce began to read aloud, “Although busy with heading WE, Mr. Wayne still is the ever doting father to adopted daughter, Raven Martha Wayne. Miss Wayne is a bright, outspoken young lady with a love for reading. With a large vocabulary, the future of the Wayne family name is in great hands.”

Bruce stayed silent as he read through the rest of the page. Tossing the paper on the counter, “I should call my legal team, just in case.”

“Lo didn’t say anything bad.”

“No but now Raven has a larger target on her back.” Clark cocked his head to the side as Bruce continued, “the press is vicious when it comes to kids. Other families are even worse. Slander campaigns against children and parents. It’s disgusting. We need to prepare for it, specifically the Kanes.”

“The Kanes?”

“My-sigh- my mother’s family. They hate my father. Always hated him. Tried to weave a story about how my father got my mother killed.” Bruce looked at the haphazardly thrown paper, “They were just mad that my mother left everything to Alfred and I. My mother knew her family well enough to not trust them.”

Clark studied his face, “you never told me about this.”

“Not something I enjoy talking about in the first place.”

“Did you really have no one?” He moved closer to Bruce, hoping to get a glimpse of the real him.

“I had Alfred.”

“Now you have Raven.” The men watched as she brushed through her hair, practically shaking with excitement.

“What time do you want to leave?” Bruce quickly changed the subject.

“Oh-um whenever, I figured we would fly.”

“I'll call for a helicopter.” he pulled out his phone, scrolling through contacts for the right number.

“I meant I could fly.”

“What do you- No.”

“Bruce-”

“No.”

“Bruce.”

“Fuck. No.”

“I fly with Lois all the time, I can handle carrying you two.”

Bruce lifted Raven in his arms, “I don’t care if you carried the President, like hell you are carrying my child.”

One Hour Later

“Ready, Bruce?” The three stood on the roof of the skyscraper, Raven squished between the two. Clark held Bruce by the waist, keeping one hand on her. Bruce linked his arm over Superman's shoulder and the other also on his daughter.

“I hate you with every fiber of my being.”

As soon as their feet touched the ground, Bruce immediately checked over Raven. He ran his thumbs over her face, checking for any signs of something.

“Daddy! I’m fine!” She pushed his hands away, opting to fix herself. After patting down her clothes and hair. Looking up, she spotted a small blue house on the horizon. Her eyes widened and smiled. “Daddy! We’re here!”

She tugged Bruce along by his arm, dragging him along the road to the little house. Clark followed a few steps behind them, enjoying the familiar scenery.

“Welcome to Smallville. The only place where you can leave your car unlocked and it will be just fine,” Clark spoke.

“No place is ever that safe.” Bruce retorted.

“You’ve spent too much time in Gotham.”

They approached the small house, a rusty truck parked beside it. A tree stood tall, a tire swing hanging from a low branch. The farm was surrounded by wheat, a rickety old barn in the distance.

“It looks straight out of a painting.” The three stepped onto the porch. The wood creaked under their weight. The door swung open and a small older woman stepped out of the home. Streaks of grey ran through her light brown hair.

“Clark!” She reached out and pulled him into a big hug. “What a nice surprise!”

“Ma,” Clark pulled away and turned to Bruce, “This is my friend, Bruce Wayne and his daughter Raven. Bruce, this is my mother, Martha Kent.”

“Hi.” Bruce raised his hand in a short wave, briefly making eye contact. Before he could pull away, Martha wrapped Bruce in a hug as well. He stood stone still until she let go. Turning to Raven, the little girl was completely enveloped in a hug.

“You are the sweetest little thing, oh your father is going to fight off all the boys, isn't he?” Raven giggled. “What pretty hair you have too.”

“Daddy said no boyfriends until I’m thirty.”

“My daddy said the same thing, I met my husband at sixteen.”

Raven turned to her father and tugged on his pants, “Daddy, am I going to meet my husband at sixteen too?”

“I hope not.” Bruce patted her head. “I really hope not.”

“Come on in! Pa’s in the kitchen.” Family photos covered the hallway. Generations of Kents living on the farm, blissfully happy. Pain twigged in Bruce’s chest, especially with one with young Clark being held by his parents.

“Oh, hello.” A man’s voice snapped Bruce out of his trance. The man stood up and walked towards him, “You must be Bruce, Clark wrote about you a few times.”

“Bruce, this is my father, Jonathan. Pa, you know Bruce and his daughter Raven.” The two men shake hands, Raven receiving a head pat.

“So what brings you both home?” She placed two coffee mugs as the men sat down.

“Well, Ma. We kinda need the ship.”

“Oh.” The air of the room shifted.

“Hey,” Pa cut in. “Why don’t I show the little one the chickens out back.”

Raven turned to her father with eager eyes, with a nod, she followed Jonathan out the back door, leaving the three in silence.

“Is something happening?” The older woman whispered. She held her mug tightly to her chest.

“No, I mean yes but no. We just need to check some things out.” Clark spoke up. He looked to Bruce to pick up the story but was met with nothing. His eyes trained back down that hallway “... it's Raven. We just want to make sure she isn’t Kryptonian as well… There have been a few incidents, we just want to cover all bases, right? Bruce?”

Clark shook his arm, breaking his trance, “We ready?”

“Yeah…”

“I’ll get Raven then.” The two watched as Bruce left out the back door.

“Maybe I should have just taken it to him,” Clark mumbled under his breath.

Ma turned back to her son with a soft sigh, “Your friend seems nice. A bit strange, but nice.”

“I don’t know much but he lost his parents when he was young, raised by his butler. He doesn’t talk about it. He had some family but they were… It's not my story to tell.”

“Oh.” She looked back down at the table, a weird glimmer in her eyes. The gears in her head turned. “Well, we haven’t touched it since you went to Metropolis. You boys go do your thing while I fix up some lunch.”

Clark was shooed out the door, joining the rest of the men outside. Pa held up Raven, looking through the chicken wire and the hens below. He moved next to Bruce, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you…”

“I’m fine. Is the ship ready?” Any form of emotion that he had felt has disappeared as if it never existed.

“It’s in the barn.”

The barn was worn and moist, hay scattered around the ground. Raven gripped her father tighter as the light grew dimmer. Clark opened up a trap door and jumped down soon followed by the pair. Clark turned on a lantern, leading the way through the basement.

They approached a large object covered in a dusty tarp. Pulling back the cloth, a pristine blue ship was slowly revealed.

“This is it.” Clark turned back to Bruce. “What do you think?”

“It's small… What do we do?” The ship opened up, giving off a white glow. He put her down on the floor, watching as she slowly walked to the ship. “Clark?”

“She’ll be fine, just going to test her.”

“Test her how?” A small metallic arms grew from the ship and inches it way towards her. Like a viper, it snapped forward and pricked her arm.

“Oww!” She yelped, sticking her tongue out at the machine before retreating to her father.

“Clark.” Bruce checked her arm then shot a glare at the super.

Scanning lifeform

“Justa DNA scan, don’t worry.”

Scan complete: Results inconclusive. Krypton does not have a record of this species.

A sigh of defeat echoed in the room, the ship slowly shutting back down.

“Welp, that was a bust.” Clark recovered the ship with the tarp. “We at least know two things, she isn't an alien or human.”

Bruce stayed silent, rubbing her sore arm.

If she isn’t human, what is she?

“Boys! Come in for supper!” Ma called from the porch then reentering the house. Bruce had been roped into farm work, specifically fixing up the broken down truck.

“I’ll be done in a few more minutes.” He called back, leaning over the hood. “That should do it for now, could use an oil change though.”

Raven sat on the old tire swing, giggling as Pa pushed her back and forth. Soon, a only black car pulled into the dirt driveway. A middle aged man stepped out, clutching onto his briefcase.

He wobbled over to Bruce, with an outstretched hand. “Hello, are you the owner?”

“No. He’s over the-”

“Well, please deliver this to them. Good day, sir.” The man left as fast as he arrived as if the farm was on fire. Looking down at the page, large red letters spelling CONFIDENTIAL. Pulling out his phone, he shot a message to Alfred:

Find out what is happening with the Kents.- Bruce

Minutes passed before his phone buzzed.

Behind on payments.- Alfred

Clear it, any means necessary.-Bruce

Bruce walked over to Pa, handing the envelope, “some guy showed up, asked me to pass this on.”

His face dropped, taking the envelope. “Thank you…”

“You said there was some oil in the barn?” Bruce picked up Raven, putting her on his shoulders and walked towards the barn.

“Daddy! I was having fun.” She pouted, leaning down to see him. “I wanna go back!”

“We will, I just need a few things.” His phone buzzed again:

Congratulations, you now own another bank. All debts have been cleared. - Alfred

Bruce shoved his phone back in his pocket, giving Kents the space they needed.

“Ma, why didn’t you tell me?” Clark read over the paperwork again. “How long have you been losing the farm?”

“Few months, your mother took up a few more shifts at the diner to cover the cost but…” Pa chimed in.

“I could have helped.”

“Oh son,” Ma placed her hands on his shoulders, “you shouldn’t tie yourself back to this old place, it's too big for just your father and I now.”

“Ma-” The phone rang through the house. Ma rushed over, answering it. The men sat in silence, processing what just happened.

“Oh my-” Ma stumbled back into the room, a bright smile plastered on her face. “It’s gone!”

“What?”

“The debt, it’s gone! I need to sit down.” Ma and Pa held onto one another, smiling like school children. “How can this even happen?”

Clark stood back as his parents celebrated.

How does that even happen?

Wait.

Oh.

Clark walked out the house, making his way towards the truck. Raven sat on her father’s legs while his upper half was covered by the truck. Laying down, he slid under the truck besides Bruce, the oil pan between them.

“How’s it going?” Clark questioned.

“Just draining the truck. Call me if anything happens.”

“Pa is stubborn but I’ll let him know… So the bank pulled back on foreclosure.”

Bruce stayed quiet, watching the oil pour.

“How is it that a small farm is able to have all their debts wiped by the bank within twenty minutes of the foreclosure notice?”

“...”

“You know, you’re a lot nicer than you let on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm. Bruce?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

The two slid back out from the truck, grease covering Bruce’s hands. His clothes were covered in dirt.

“Bruce!” Ma called from the porch, “You didn’t have to do all that! All your nice clothes. Hold on, Clark might have left some shirts!”

“Hope you like plaid.”

Ma placed plates in front of the two men and a smaller one in front of Raven.

“Hopefully it didn’t get too cold.” She watched as Raven ate, a happy smile on her face. “I want one.”

“A daughter?” Clark cocked his eyebrow in confusion.

“A grandchild. Your father and I aren’t getting any younger, you know.” Bruce smirked, watching Clark shift in his seat. “You either call Lana back or you go and get that Lane woman you constantly talk about.”

“Oh, you and Lois?”

“Bruce, not you too!”

“Don’t worry Ms. Kent, I put in a few good words for him.” Bruce felt a light stab in the side.

“Thank you, Bruce.”

‘I hate you.’ Clark mouthed towards Bruce, never wiping the smirk off his face.

‘You’re welcome.’

Landing back on the roof, Raven softly snored, drooling on her father’s clothes. “She wakes up at six again, I’m killing you.”

“Sure you are.” Clark turned away from the two. “Hey, did you actually put in a good word for me? With Lois?”

“Maybe. Didn’t really need to, she already seems to like you.” With that, Clark took off into the night.

Bruce placed her in her bed, tucking her in for the night. After softly closing the door, he picked up the recorder and began:

Log: 4

Subsection: Raven

As I suspected, Raven is not Kryptonian. Although it did confirm Raven is also not an alien, at least any known species so far.

This development doesn’t elevate any of my concerns. How is she human enough to be recognized by medical professionals yet not enough for Clark’s tech to recognize her as one. Further testing needs to be done but…

She is just a child. Raven shouldn’t have to go through this. She is only four years old.

Why do I feel that there is worse to come?

End Log

Thank you so much for reading ❤

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 5

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

-------

By the time the class landed in Gotham, Marinette and Chloé had enough. Their recorders, which were supposed to serve as damning evidence of blatant bullying, got ‘damaged’ when Lila accidentally splashed the two girls with a drink. Whatever it was, it was sticky, didn’t wash with water, and also ruined their hidden dictaphones. 

Of course, the liar made it look like it was Marinette who tripped her. The class almost hounded her, but they kept their distance not wanting to also get their clothes dirtied. Of course, Lila was occupying the bathroom for the next fifteen minutes, so when she finally left the drink already dried, making it even harder to get rid of. 

When the girls made their way out of the plane to meet with Sabine and their teacher, Lila pushed past them and came crying about how rude Marinette ruined her outfit, which was supposedly incredibly expensive. None of the intelligent people bothered to try and point out that it was cheap mass-produced junk. Alix was visibly conflicted, but also did not speak up in the end. 

“Marinette. I expected better of…” The teacher started, but then she saw both girls were hit worse than Lila, who cleaned most of it in the bathroom. 

“Sweetie…” Sabine started to rethink if a simple murder wouldn’t solve their problem.

“Don’t worry Maman. I can probably salvage it once we ret… get to Damian’s” Mari corrected herself. Luckily, it seemed like nobody caught her slip of tongue. 

“Ugh! Not that creep.” Alya complained. “He gives me shivers.” 

Mari glared at her former friend. She wanted to say something, but her teacher urged them to move. They were put into a small lounge. Marinette, of course, had to run them through a safety course, for reasons. She still did her best, as Gotham earned its reputation as the World’s Capital of Crime. 

When they were finally cleared and the class left the airport, there was a bus waiting, ready to take them to the hotel. Marinette and Chloé were about to board when a limousine pulled next to them. 

“Angel, Bourgeoise…” He greeted the girls. “Since you’ll be staying with us, my father decided to send a proper escort.”

The class stared in disbelief. The guy with a sword was loaded? It definitely looked like it from the car. 

“I bet his gramps just works as a driver and borrowed his work car,” Lila whispered to Alya and suddenly everyone was repeating the lie. “Or maybe even stole it…” 

A blade was suddenly pressed into Lila’s neck, a hair width away from drawing blood

“Tt. I will tolerate many things, but if you try to insult Alfred one more time, your end will be painful.” The class backed away in fear. Marinette immediately went to try and drag the boy away from a very pale Lila, but he wouldn’t budge. “Am. I. Clear?”

Lila was too paralyzed to answer, so he pressed the blade further. Now it was in contact with her skin and a moment of inattention could have fatal consequences. “Am. I. Clear?” He seethed.

“Yes…” She managed to whisper. 

“Tt. Good.” He sheathed his blade just as two security guards came outside to check the commotion. 

“Arrest him! He tried to murder Lila!” Alya immediately screamed. 

“No. If I did, she would be dead. I only explained certain values.” Damian deadpanned. 

The two guards looked between the class and visibly angry Damian Wayne and scratched their heads. They could report it, but they only had the word of some foreigners against the word of the son of the First Citizen of Gotham who was also the fifth richest man in the world. The cameras here stopped working, hence they came out to check what happened. 

“Children. We should be going or we’ll miss lunch at the hotel,” their teacher urged. That was enough for the guards. If the chaperone did not press charges, they wouldn’t bother. 

“But… But…” 

“Lila. Be a bigger person here and apologize to Damian.” Sabine grinned. 

“But he…”

“I don’t want to hear it!” The woman cut her off. “You must show our host some respect.”

“I didn’t…” The glare Sabine sent her and the murderous expression on Damian’s face made the words freeze in her throat. “Fine. I’m sorry Damien.”

“Tt.” Was the boy’s only response. 

Marinette and Chloé were about to leave when Rose protested. “Why are they not going with us to the hotel!?”

“Because as one of the host families, I’m allowed to welcome the students I choose to my house for the stay.” Damian did not care enough to elaborate more. Instead, he just jumped into the back seat of the Limousine. The girls followed, with Chloé going as far as sticking her tongue at the class. 

Once the doors closed and Alfred started the engine, Damian lowered the windshield and leaned outside. “By the way, it’s Damian. Damian W…” He didn’t get to finish because Marinette covered his mouth with her hand and dragged him inside. The windshield closed. 

When the car entered the main road, the girl finally let him go. 

“What was that about, Habibti?” He glared at her. 

“You were about to reveal that you’re the Damian Wayne.” She accused him.

“Tt. It’s time that liar learns who she’s dealing with.”

“It would only blow up in our faces. She would make it worse for all of us, including your family.” Seeing that both her best friend and her husband (still hard to get used to) were looking at her with no small amount of curiosity, she elaborated. “Damian Wayne is supposedly her ‘ultimate price’ from this exchange. She will want to sink her claws into you with all her skill.”

“Tt. She can try.” He huffed. His hand instinctively went to his sword. 

“You do know you are quite murderous for a Robin?” Chloé quipped.

“And you’re bratty for a lady.” 

“Bird-brain.”

“That’s Drake. Spoiled princess.”

“Daddy can afford it so why not? Trained monkey.”

“Grayson. Try harder. Talentless heiress.”

“I’m helping Marinette start her own company. Emo McBroodyPants.”

“Where did you even get that one?”

“I read.” She huffed. “And looks like I won.”

“Tt. As if.”

Marinette just sat back and watched her best friend and lover bicker there and back. It was nice that they were warming up to one another…

-----------

When Sabine finally arrived at the Manor, she was dead on her feet. Alfred was, of course, waiting for her at the entrance.

“Eventful day, Madame?”

“Don’t.” She cut him off.

“I assume it went worse than anticipated then?”

“Where is Tom?”

“Master Tom is in the kitchen. He decided to prepare some baked goods for the afternoon.”

Sabine stormed to the kitchen where she found her husband. He was clearly busy preparing the dough. After a quick greeting, she went to help him. 

“That bad?”

“Worse.” She sighed. “I really don’t understand that woman. How… She cut me whenever I tried to rein those monsters in.”

“Oh… Hand me the pin.” He interrupted himself. Sabine gave him the item, which she already had in hand when he started speaking. 

“I’m not sure if I can survive until school starts again. And even then there will be occasional afternoon trips. If it continues, I might just… I will get a jam. You did bring it?”

“I’ve put it on the counter,” Tom replied while still preparing the dough. “And don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll get better.”

“I hope so…”

---------

In the evening, Marinette, Chloé, and Sabine were introduced to the Batcave. It was indeed impressive, but Sabine was mostly interested in the training ring. She would lie if she didn’t want to test herself against the famous Batman. And she didn’t fancy committing crimes to do so. Well, for now. The class was making it more and more appealing.

“So you’re the girl that tamed Robin?” A redhead in a wheelchair rolled over to Marinette. 

“Tt. Shut up, Gordon.” Damian managed to spend a beautiful afternoon without any teasing from his family. Sadly, nothing could last forever.

“Come on baby bird. After the show you gave us on Christmas Eve, you can’t expect us to just drop it.” Dick was there, smiling cockily. 

“As much as I too want to tease that couple, I hoped for some sparring matches.” Sabine decided to save the teens. For now.

“Well, Madame, I’m happy to oblige.”

“Who’s with you?” She asked once Nightwing entered the ring.

“Um… I didn’t think you wanted a team match?” He replied, slightly confused. 

“No, no. I just thought I would have some challenge.” She smiled brightly. She was dressed in a dark-pink judoka and wooden sandals. 

“I… want.” Cass chimed in. She gracefully jumped into the ring before turning to Dick. “Alone.”

“Of course Sweetie. But I won’t go easy on you.” 

“Did not… expected.” 

The two women watched one another, neither moving from their spots. Both seemed relaxed but ready to react. Cass was first to start circling, with Sabine following. Neither could find any obvious flaws to exploit. Finally, Sabine lunged forward, only to jump to the side before getting in Cassandra’s range. The girl didn’t lose the bit and with a quick spin kicked her aunt, only to be deflected. Sabine tried to capitalize on the opening, but Cass followed her failed kick with another, launching herself in the air. Her target ducked low before trying to deliver an upper-cut punch toward the flying girl. It did connect, serving to push her back. She used the momentum to get some distance before landing on her hands and doing a double backward cartwheel and ending in a ready stance. 

“Not bad, Cassandra. I’m impressed. That boy would probably already be crying on the floor.” Sabine smiled genuinely. There was no need for banter between them. 

“Weakling.” The girl blew Dick a raspberry. 

Two women watched each other for a moment. This time, it was Sabine who initiated the actual fight. She delivered three quick punches that Cass blocked, but it created a small opening. She tried to deliver a side-kick to the girl’s head, but her opponent had the same idea. 

Their legs clashed by the shins. Sabine landed her leg firmly on the ground, but Cass once more lunged in the air, trying to use the momentum. She did two more kicks that her aunt blocked before she tried to put the older woman in a grip. Sabine, seeing the attempt, jumped back and tried to grab Cassandra’s hand, but instead, the girl spun around, delivering a powerful kick to Sabine’s side. 

The woman felt the kick, but she used the opportunity to timely grab her opponent’s foot and twist it. Cass, to avoid an injury, also had to spin in the air. She managed to attempt a kick before falling on her stomach. Her kick did force Sabine to let go of the foot to avoid having her head hurt. The girl quickly jumped on her feet, just in time to block an open-palm strike, which was followed with a kick. She did not get to respond, because Sabine made a low-sweep. Cass jumped in the air, only to find herself pushed away by another open-palm strike that, this time, connected with her chest, pushing the air out of her lungs. 

The woman followed Cass in the air, so she did not get a chance to stand up before getting pinned and rotated on her stomach. The grip that Sabine used effectively made it almost impossible to get out of before her aunt delivered a mock game-ending strike to her head. 

When Sabine stood up and helped her niece, both were panting heavily. It did not affect the accuracy with which the older of them made a back-kick, right below Jason’s belt. 

“Next time you try to sneak on either of us I will hit harder.” Sabine didn’t even bother to turn around and watch how the man curled on the floor, crying. “Good fight.” She focused her gaze on Cass, who blushed slightly.

“I lost.” 

“Well, depends on the criteria. You got the first hit, which is often decisive. And an achievement.” The woman cheered her with a broad smile on her face. Cassandra couldn’t help but also smile. “We could both use some more practice. I definitely would’ve taken you when I caught your foot and if you capitalized on the initial advantage you could’ve ended the fight.”

“It is an honor… training… with you.”

“Thank you, my dear. I also enjoyed it.” Sabine then turned to the gobsmacked group. The fight must have looked more impressive than she thought. 

“Did you just… defeat Cass in less than five minutes…?” Tim asked, unable to form a smooth sentence.

“Well, Sandra always said that I was the better one in unarmed combat. She does rock with swords though. And you should’ve seen her in that club in Tokyo. She’s definitely the dancer of the family, or rather was. I enjoy Cass’s ballet more.”

The great moment was interrupted by Batman speaking to everyone over the comms. 

“Suit up. We’ve got a hostage situation at Gotham Plaza.”

“For the love of Kwami… Please tell me it’s not my class.” Marinette groaned. 

“Tt. Of course it’s them.” Damian pulled his phone, showing her a live feed from the news helicopter. On the rooftop, there was a clearly visible group of teenagers, surrounded by goons with guns aimed at them. Near the edge stood a guy in a two-color suit. Half white and half black, with a red and black tie to complete the mad image. Half of his face was badly damaged and purple. 

“If Batman doesn’t show here to save his precious sidekick soon, we shall see if the little birdie can actually fly.”

Everyone who met Lila groaned. 

“I assume we can’t just let him deal with her?” Marinette asked hopefully.

“Sadly, Angel, it would be bad for our image.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“The two of you are sitting this out.” Batman walked into the cave, already in his suit. “We can’t risk any of them recognizing you two and it’s too early for Ladybug and Chat to appear. It would be too easy to associate their appearance with you two coming to Gotham.”

Seeing Damian’s irritated face, Marinette decided to intervene before she had a fight on her hands “Let’s do a movie night. I’m sure you have a theatre room somewhere in here.” 

Immediately, the boy brightened. “No Bourgeoise?��

“I think Chloé has other plans for the evening.” She nodded toward where the blonde was talking excitedly with Cass, trying to convince her to train her.

“Good.” Damian offered his hand and the two left the cave.

“Damn! I didn’t get the chance to tease him about the proposal.” Jason looked really dejected. 

--------

Masterlist // Next

[angelskyladiana]

Mrs Black- Victor Zsasz

FULL MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 1: THE MADAME

Summary: Before there was Zsasz, there was Victor. Before there was a murderer, there was a businessman. Before his insanity, he had her, but under unforeseen events they were separated and that’s where his madness began. Will he find her once more? Will she be able to save him before he falls into lunacy? In a world under the thumb of a mysterious woman, can they escape her? Or will Mrs Black have the last laugh?

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 1357

------------

"Edith!" A loud yell echoed through the castle-like house, drifting through every room, crevice and corner of the large house. Her sleek, black Louis Vuitton heels clicked against the rich mahogany floors. Pouting her lips, she began applying the bright red shaded lipstick over them, only stopping to call out to her beloved housemaid, "have you seen my Cartier diamonds?"

There was no response from the short, bubbly maid, "Edith?" She hollered again, rounding the corner from her en-suit to her master bedroom where she found the greying woman sat on the automann at the end of the plush bed, staring at the television. "Edith-"

"They're on your bed side table, Madame," She brushed off the young woman, ushering to the table behind her as if they were scraps rather than priceless diamonds. The brunette raised an eyebrow at the feisty maid but nonetheless sauntered over to the table and snatching up the sparkly objects and adjusting them to her ears.

"Eedie-"

"Madame hush!" The elder woman snapped at her mistress before raising a pale finger towards the screen, "look!" Instead of focusing on the abrupt snappiness of her beloved maid, the woman's dark brown eyes shifted to the tv screen in front of her, just as Edith turned up the volume more.

A balding, chubby middle-aged man stood in front of a podium talking straight into the camera, "-This city desperately needs experienced, seasoned leadership. And so, in their wisdom, they have persuaded me much against my will, to resume the office of mayor-"

"What city is this, Edith?" She questioned, finishing putting her earrings on and sitting down on the beds silk sheets.

"Gotham, Madame." Edith declared, knowing exactly how the city once and still affected the blue-eyed woman. And that it did, her blood ran cold at the very name, heart beating faster and goose bumps forming across her skin.

"Stop! This proceeding is a sham!" A voice rand from the crowd.

Immediately the previous mayor hollered for back up, "Security, remove this criminal!"

"Criminal? I was jailed illegally by a corrupt system! A corrupt system that was put into place by this man, who has the audacity to put himself back into the position that he brought so much shame and dishonour to," The camera panned to the proclaimed criminal and the two women gazed at the scrawny, pale, dark-haired man, he wore a dark suit and clung to a cane as he stood in front of the previous mayor.

"How dare you!"

"No, how dare you," He spoke, walking closer to the stage, hobbling slightly, "waltz up there and announce yourself mayor? The people demand to have a say into who will represent them, who will protect them!" The crowd cheered back at what the small man proclaimed, "It was I, I alone who drove out the monsters that plagued our city."

"Oh, please..." The older man huffed, his hand grasping at the podium.

The pale man spun around quickly and accusingly spoke, "Where were you then, while I faced peril at the hands of those abominations?"

"Sir, are you challenging James's appointment to office?" A reporter clads in red asked.

"I most certainly am," The crowd continued to jeer him on as he wobbled up on the stage, "to govern this city, one should be legally elected, which is why I, Oswald Cobblepot, announce my candidacy for the office of mayor." He claimed, finally allowing the two women to put a name to a face.

"And I demand, and the people demand, that an emergency election be held forthwith!" Oswald ordered, a smirk gracing his face as he smiled deviently at his competition. The crowd continued yelling and applauding, even going as far as chanting his name, Oswald Cobblepot smiled in delight. The television paused on his grinning red face, for some reason dark eyes could not tear themselves away from the pale man.

"Seems the longer you're away Madame, the madder that place gets," The maid spoke, placing the remote down and turning to stand in front of the girl she had watched grow into the beautiful woman she was today. Edith reached out, brushing away the tear that had cascaded from her brown eyes and landed on her cheek, "I know you miss it."

"I won't lie to you, Eddie," she smiled slightly, eyes drooping, "It's still home. I miss it,"

"But you were there not too long ago, Miss-"

"Four years ago is quite long," She claimed, remembering the single day she visited Gotham. A funeral wasn't the ideal time to visit the city she once called home, especially when the deaths were practically family. It wasn't as if there was anything interesting or particularly spectacular in the city in fact it was actually a kind of terrible place at times, but nevertheless it was still home. "The man said something about monsters, do you know anything about that?"

"No Madame, but from what I've recently seen from that city it seems everything there is somewhat monstrous," The old lady answered sharply, walking over to the gigantic casement windows surrounding the master bedroom and pulling the curtains over them.

"Even me?" She questioned, smiling lightly.

The old woman smiled warmly at the woman of the house, shuffling over and moving her hands up to her hair, brushing her slightly curled long brown locks from her face and behind her ears, "especially you, Madame," She giggled in return, "I wouldn't judge you if you wished to return,"

"Are you sure about that?"

"Home is home, I'm not one to judge what a person defines as home. My idea of home has been here for the past thirty years, not a place but with your family, Madame," The old woman looked deeply into her eyes, the two different shades contrasting each other. "Is it a visit we are about to pack for or permanent residency?"

The brunette stood from the bed, "just a visit, Edith. Maybe a weekend. I want to meet the man ridding monsters from where most are born," The young heiress smiled slightly, her conflict of feelings present on her face as she stared down the mayor in running, the man who claimed to defeat all the monsters and she wondered, 'could he defeat hers?'

"And what of the master, Madame?"

Of course, she thought of him, what kind of person would she be if she hadn't? He was everything to her, but this was something it seemed she would have to do alone, it wouldn't be safe and God if anything happened to him, life would not be worth living, "I'll go on my own, Edith."

"Very well, Madame," She spoke without question, knowing full well that Gotham was not the place for someone like him. She quickly hurried into the massive walk-in closet and reached for the "you should hurry. Mr Falcone doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Indeed, he doesn't," The woman chuckled in reminiscence, "Call Calvin, tell him to arrange a dinner, I'll leave tomorrow afternoon." She ordered as her maid put the dark fur coat around her shoulders.

"Of course, Madame." Edith's voice echoed as the clicking of heels receded down the halls leaving the help in the gigantic, white room. The woman clad in white sauntered down the hall only stopping once she reached the tall white door left slightly ajar, a small glow of light trailing from the room. Tempted, she peaked inside, her eyes finding her greatest treasure, glittering gold and sparkling diamond. But she did not enter, only smiled at the features which she had known for so long on something completely separate from what it once was.

Mrs Black continued walking, passing so many staff and a thousand rooms and doors, wondering what she would find at the place she once called home. But was she ready to go back to Gotham?

Was Gotham ready for her?

CHAPTER 2

[winchester-with-wings]

Growing Pains, Part 1 / (Second Chances Series)

Bruce Wayne x child!reader fic!

AUTHOR: @faithtrustandpixiedust95

Summary: Growing up as Y/N Wayne, you find a new way to train and even make a friend.

Word Count: 4300

A/N: reader is about 12ish. My sister is writing her fics all in the same universe but each one has a different title and are broken into parts.

*Disclaimer* I did not write this. My sister, Sam, did and I am posting this with her permission.

Sequel to 

“Shattered Beginnings” 1 / 2

“Adjusting” 1 / 2

Sam’s Mobile Masterlist

Life as Y/N Wayne had been moving on. You were Bruce’s baby girl and he truly loved you as much as you loved him, which was a lot.

You two would spend most of your time together whenever Bruce wasn’t working and you weren’t at school. You and Bruce would even train together and spar for fun.

Not much changed once you found out your dad’s “super-secret”, you would help out in the Batcave every so often and help your dad whenever he needed it. The only thing you weren’t allowed to do was to go out in the field with him and stay up super late.

Honestly, you were okay with this decision. As good of a nerf “sharp-shooter” you were, you were in no way ready to start battling it out with the bad guys.

You had just started training in mixed martial arts and you were loving it. The combination of being able to escape holds and dish out your own blows was helping you get through your own issues. It was a good release and you felt more confident in being able to somewhat protect yourself.

You were learning a lot from Bruce, he was teaching you defensive techniques as well as offensive. When you were older, he taught you how to disarm people with weapons, how to handle loaded weapons safely and how to shoot them as well. You were a natural shot, your nerf skills were finally paying off as a real life skill!

He taught you how to blend into your surroundings and these training sessions usually ended in hour long hide-and-seek battles, once you got the hang of it, you ended up winning most of the games.

You had excelled in your stealth training exercises, often using them on Bruce and Alfred when they least expected it. At one point you had snuck up on Alfred while he was making cookies. Right as he poured in the flour to the batter, you scared him, causing him to spill the flour all over himself, you, and the kitchen. He was not happy about it, but you thought it was funny. You were sure to have Bruce snap a picture of it to put in the memory book.

You loved playing with all the different gadgets that Batman got to use, especially the grappling gun. You were a regular lil’ monkey, swinging back and forth, up and down. It was your favorite mode of transportation around the manor between the first and second floor, you were too good for stairs, this had become the ongoing joke between the three of you.

There had been a certain training exercise using the smoke bombs that didn’t end particularly well. But that was because you weren’t training, you were more playing around, unsupervised, and you had set off most of the smoke alarms much to the bemusement of Alfred and Bruce.

You also learned to hone in on your observation and detective skills. Bruce would bring back pictures and info he had found at the crime scenes he would investigate. Once he loaded them all into the computer, you looked at them together creating a case file of clues and evidence to send over to Gordon for the police to use.

You were very detail oriented with these case files. There were a few instances where you had found a small piece of evidence Bruce hadn't come across and it helped to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

Together, you and Bruce, made a good detective team. Having the interpretation of a well-seasoned vigilante and the new perspective of a creative child, gave you the perfect resources to figure out the cases and turn in the bad guys.

Of course Bruce always kept you at arm's length during the more brutal cases, and you always only helped from the safety of the cave. You weren't old enough to go out and be by Batman’s side in the field.

In the next few years, you definitely progressed in your MMA training becoming particularly good at nerve-striking and takedowns. You loved the challenge of taking down bigger opponents, aka your dad, by using the person's weight against them. Being small and athletic had it's advantages for climbing and moving quickly.

You were a competitive little booger! You would train at the cave with your dad everyday after school, you had a knack for improvising and tweaking your learned skills into something more useful for someone your size.

The nice thing about it though, was that your dad never held back during training. He knew what you could and couldn't handle and you would surprise him every now and then by going beyond his expectations.

Even with all the intense training you did, you still got to be a kid. You socialized and goofed around at school, sometimes a little too much. You were a troublemaker at times, but it was all out of good fun.

Your teachers loved having you in their classes. You were smart, quick witted, and kind to the other students. You often volunteered to help other kids out when they were struggling to grasp a concept in class and you did your best to include everyone in what you did so no one felt left out.

There were a few occasions where Bruce would have to leave work in the middle of the day to come down to your school because you had gotten into a fight, but you only fought with the bullies when you were trying to defend the kid being picked on. You didn’t like seeing other kids getting bullied, so you would put the tormentor in their place even if it meant you got in trouble, it was worth it. You took after your adoptive father in that way; you wanted to save and protect people if you had the ability to.

Being a Wayne at Gotham Academy had its ups and downs. One of the downsides to it was that whenever you misbehaved, like getting into fights, it would end up as an article in the news. You seemed to be following in your dad’s footsteps with making headlines over pointless affairs, it was normal for kids to act like that, but because you were a Wayne, everything was looked at under a microscope.

But one of the upsides to having your name, meant you were never alone at school. Kids were always trying to be your friend and you welcomed the interactions respectfully, but you knew when it wasn't sincere. You had yet to make a strong friend at school that you could rely on.

It was a hard search, because no matter who you chose, there would always be secrets that had to be kept on your side of the friendship. Secrets weren't a good foundation for friendship.

At age 12, you were enjoying school and your training. It was exhausting sometimes and you continuously felt the pressure of lacking a true friend.

Bruce had come up with the idea of having you compete in junior MMA fights to explain your skill behind fighting and to maybe make some friends. It was a good story to feed the media to keep them from figuring out your family secret.

You became undefeated in your MMA meets, one after the other. You trained hard and it showed.

The media loved showing up to your meets to cover your fights. It was a juicy topic in the news.

Some outlets supported your participation, approving of Bruce's decision to let you compete. It was seen as a fatherly thing to do, to let your kid be a part of a sport.

Other outlets saw it negatively, thinking it was inappropriate for the heiress of Wayne Enterprises to fight in such a barbaric sport.

The only thing the two sides agreed on, was the fact that it was a good idea for you to learn self-defense.

If it had been up to the schools and parents of Gotham’s youth, self-defense classes would have been a mandatory skill to learn in school. But because of a crooked politician on the Gotham Board of Education, it was never put into circulation in the school’s curriculums.

So training in private and competing in meets became the name of the game.

You loved it. It was as social as it was competitive and you enjoyed your fights, with your dad coaching you and cheering you on at every one.

It was at the State Finals that you had met your match in opponents.

You had progressed to the finals with ease and each fight had been a good challenge, but never hard enough. You were looking for some serious skill to compete against and you found it in the title fight of the finals.

Of course the media outlets were present at the finals, you had gotten several people interested in your standings of the sport and since you were “The Wayne Princess” the news felt obligated to cover your events.

You took advantage of the spotlight, making sure that other kids at the event were getting just as much attention, if not more than you were. You would grab reporters and tell them to talk to this kid or that kid.

The meet went like all your others had gone. You would sit and watch the other kids compete, enjoying yourself before it came time for your fight.

This particular fight was going to be a bit different than previous ones.

You had been competing at a skill level that didn't match the girls division of your age, so to keep things fair, you competed against the boys.

Your competitors weren't happy about fighting a girl, but it was the only compromise that satisfied the judges without putting you in over your head.

Everyone was apprehensive of what was going to happen. When you entered the ring with the other kid, you were focused on getting into the right head space. You channelled a very specific anger that allowed you to get your adrenaline pumping. You heard the official call to you to clear the fight and you walked to the middle of the ring to meet the young man you were fighting.

He was the same age as you, he had short red hair and green eyes with small freckles pebbling his face. He had blocky shoulders, was slightly taller than you and had a strong build for someone your age, but you matched his athleticism according to the judges, based off your previous fights.

He looked pissed off and glared at you like he was ready to knock you out with one punch. He'd fought hard to get here and he wasn't going to let some girl take that away from him.

You felt your adrenaline spike and your heart starting to race, knowing that this was going to be your most challenging fight to date.

The official went over the rules he wanted you both to abide by. He asked you if you understood and you nodded with your headgear and mouthpiece in, he did the same for the boy and he nodded as well.

“Touch gloves and return to your corners. Let’s have a good clean fight!” the official shouted over all the parents and kids cheering.

You tapped your red gloves to the boy’s blue gloves and looked him in the eyes. You were ready to go just as much as he was. The tension between the two of you was readily apparent to the crowds watching from outside the cage.

You returned to your corner and when the bell rang, you met each other in the middle of the ring and started to fight.

You were making careful calculated dodges of each punch the boy sent; he had gotten a few jabs across due to the reach of his arms. You made sure to keep a bit more space between the two of you so as to better dodge his far reaching punches. You kept light on your feet, constantly moving, making him chase you.

He had the advantage on reach, but he wasn't as quick on his feet as you. You made note of this and tried to tire him out as much as you could.

You got a few strong kicks into his body, but he retaliated with a combo you were just barely able to block.

At one point in the first round of the fight, he pushed you up against the gate and threw a few punches. You managed to block them and then pushed him off of you, getting out of the corner. You were about to advance and start your jabs when the bell rang before you got to him.

You both went to your respective corners and your coaches and parents were talking to you, feeding you confidence.

“Nice job, baby girl, tiring him out! That’s the way to do it! Make this fight be on your terms,” you heard your dad cheering behind you from the gate.

You nodded at him and looked at your coach.

“Good job Y/N, that was a good first round. I noticed he doesn’t have super sharp footwork, I think if you can get him to the ground to grapple a little, you might be able to get him into a good hold. Avoid those long arms of his, he's got a lot of strength behind those punches. Keep tiring him out and then when you’re ready, go for the takedown. Just remember to play clean,” he emphasized that last sentence because he knew you liked using your tweaked techniques to grapple with other students during training before the meets, but there were rules to follow and judges were watching.

You nodded at your coach and took a drink of water and then the official was calling you both back up to fight.

The bell rang and you advanced toward the young man throwing a right hook to his headgear. He wasn’t able to block it well because he had timed it wrong. You took his moment of confusion to send a combination of punches to his body.

He was thrown off by the sudden change in your fighting getting more aggressive. You could see him making mental notes during the fight, adapting to your moves.

He dodged another punch and returned one to you which you were able to block, but the power in the punch still definitely hurt. While you were recovering from the blow, he got a strong kick to your side that knocked the wind out of you. He made his way to advance again, but you backed up out of his reach so you could catch your breath. You could feel your side already starting to bruise and stiffen.

You were bouncing around on your feet, getting a bit winded, but you saw the same look on his face. You saw a red mark forming on his face from your previous punch and he was breathing hard trying to keep up with you.

You decided to try going for a takedown, getting bored with the footwork.

You closed the space between you, keeping your arms up and blocking his advances. When you got close enough, you put your arms around him.

He was trying to break the hold and was able to push you away, but this made it so you were able to get into the right position to put your small body into his chest in a particular hold that sent him slamming to the ground over your shoulder.

You flipped him and were suddenly straddling him, sending punches left and right. He had his arms up, blocking his face when he tried to buck you off and pin you to the ground. You adjusted to his movements and the next thing you know, you had his arm in your grasp.

His arm was pinned between your legs and you were pulling it back in the direction taught to you for an arm-bar hold. This was painful for the boy, he was trying to get out of the hold groaning and wincing in pain.

The official was ready to break the hold, per the rules for your age group, when you felt the two taps on your leg and you let go.

He had tapped out. The official came up to the two of you on the mat and assessed the boy to make sure he wasn't injured.

The crowd of people watching were cheering at the sudden end to the fight.

You stood up and stretched out your hand to him to help him up. He was reluctant to take it at first, but when he looked at his coach, he knew he had to in order to be a good sport.

You helped him up and then handed him an ice-pack that your coach had tossed to you, giving you a big thumbs up. You smiled at the boy and said in an encouraging and cheery tone, “Nice job, that was a fun fight, hardest challenge I've had. You did great!”

The boy just glared at you and then his face softened, “Thanks. You did a good job too. Congratulations on your win...maybe we can have a rematch in the future,” the boy teased with a now friendly smile on his face.

You shook hands with the boy and the official came up to you two, raising your left arm in the air to signify you had won by tap-out. The judges brought out a big shiny belt and put it over your shoulder. You held it up high and smiled at your win.

You looked around the ring and noticed everyone was cheering, but no one was louder than your dad. He had both hands up in the air in victory and he was cheering your name like a normal competitive dad would. You laughed at this and walked towards him when the official let you and your opponent go.

Bruce picked you up in a big bear hug and twirled you around, he was smiling enough for the both of you. You just laughed and hugged him back.

When he set you down, you were bombarded with cameras and questions from the reporters.

You stood tall with your victory belt still draped over your shoulder. You looked back behind you and got the attention of the boy you had fought, you motioned for him to come over to you and the cameras. He walked over, seeming a bit uneasy and stood next to you.

You smiled at him in a way that told him to follow your lead and you turned back to the camera to answer the questions of the press with your opponent next to you. You made sure any questions they asked the boy were respectful and you defended him against any kind of humiliation.

“What’s your name?” one reporter started off the interview of you and your opponent.

“My name is Roy,” he said, still a bit timid at the attention.

It was nice that Roy didn't live very far away. He was in Star City, another dangerous mecca that seemed to be run more by the mob than by delusional villains.

Each town seemed to have their own issues, but they also had their own heroes. For Gotham it was crazy villains and Batman; for Star City is was the mob and the Green Arrow; for Central City it was meta-humans and the Flash; and for Metropolis it was aliens and Superman.

Your detective skills got the better of you and you had done your research on each city’s series of crimes and the hero who cleaned up the mess.

After the state finals, you and Roy had become good friends. He had been a little bitter at first at the fact that a girl beat him, but he eventually lightened up.

You two would often meet up and spar at the gym, coaching each other and teaching each other new moves. You were happy to find out that Roy had moved schools from Star City and started going to Gotham Academy. He was in most of your classes. You two had become thick as thieves. He was over at your house after school and training almost everyday and what was weird was that Bruce didn’t seem to oppose having someone over at the manor all the time.

If anything, Bruce seemed to approve of the friendship and welcomed Roy and his family over whenever they wanted.

Roy was being raised by his uncle, Oliver Queen. A tall man with short blonde hair and a golden goatee. Oliver had soft blue eyes that he seemed to hide behind. He never talked more than was necessary, but he loved lecturing. Roy always came to the house rolling his eyes from the “valuable lesson” Ollie had just rambled on about for the drive over to the manor.

You didn’t really know who he was, but Bruce did. Apparently Oliver was another playboy-turned-dad when his nephew had gotten into some trouble and his parent’s solution was sending him to stay with Ollie. Roy didn’t seem to mind though, he liked being with his Uncle Ollie, it seemed to be a good fit for the both of them, they balanced each other.

Ollie was over at your house just as much as Roy was and he and Bruce got along really well. A little too well if your observation skills served you right.

One night after Roy and Ollie had gone home, you asked your dad about it.

“Did you already know Ollie before you met him at the MMA meet, Dad?”

“Yes, I have worked with him a few times. He owns Queen Consolidated. Our companies are working together on a major project right now, so he moved to Gotham with Roy to make the commute easier,” was your father’s simple response. It didn’t sit well enough with you though.

“Okay, but you seem to like, really really, know him...how?” you pressured your dad, who was now smiling seeing that you had figured out yet another secret.

“He’s the Green Arrow, Y/N.”

“WHAT?!” was all you could squeal out in your signature squeak. “I knew there was something more between you two!”

“We’ve started working together on some cases. He’s been training Roy too. That’s why we were comfortable with you two being friends,” your dad explained it as if it was no big deal.

“So...does Roy know who you are?”

“Ollie is probably having a similar conversation to our’s with Roy right now on their way home,” he assured you.

“Okay, cool. Then I don’t have to hide anything from him anymore and wait for him to tell me about it. That takes a weight off my shoulders!” you sighed and laughed, still a bit dumbfounded at the news.

When you and Roy saw each other at school the next day, you both were a bit unsure of what to say.

You broke the silence.

“So does this mean we’re like ‘cousins’ or something? And like the cousins where you just say you’re family ‘cause of how close you are, even if you’re not related by blood.”

Roy just started laughing at your rambling, “No, I don’t think we’re ‘cousins’, I think it just means that we get to be even closer friends than we initially thought.”

You smiled at the statement and hugged your friend, which caught him off guard, causing him to blush. When you saw his red cheeks, you chuckled and punched him in the shoulder in a friendly manner, causing him to laugh and relax.

“This is gonna be great,” you said with a dopey smile on your face.

“Oh, no. You’re not about to ‘fangirl’ on me are you?” he teased.

“So what if I was?” you defended, “Our families rock, dude. How can you not be freaking out that my dad is you-know-who and your uncle is who he is? It’s like the beginning of the greatest superhero team-up ever!” you shouted, putting your hands in the air out of excitement.

“You’re such a dork, Y/N,” he taunted. You laughed and punched him lightly in the shoulder again.

“Whatever, we gotta go to class or we’re gonna be late for math. Last thing I need is the media finding out that the ‘Wayne Princess’ is tardy to class every now and then,” you mocked, saying the nickname like it left a bad taste in your mouth. Of all the name’s they called you by, you hated that one the most.

After school and training that day, you came home to find Bruce had come home early from work.

“Hey, Dad! You’re home early. What’s the occasion?” you inquired.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he started, “You’ve been training really hard and doing well in school that I thought you deserved to do something fun.” He pulled out two tickets from behind his back and handed them to you.

They were tickets to a special circus show that was in town for the week. It was a highly coveted performance, not your typical circus. You looked at them and beamed with excitement.

“Really?! I saw ads for this show all over town. They even advertised it at the school. I hear there’s this really cool trapeze performance that is just gut-wrenching! When are we going?”

“Friday night after school. We’ll do a nice dinner beforehand and then go see it, how does that sound?” he suggested.

“Great! I can’t wait. Thanks, dad!” You hugged him and then took a picture of the tickets with your phone to send to Roy and brag.

Part Two coming soon...

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