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the-fyre-flie · 3 days ago

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Robin!Bruce Wayne and Superboy!Kal El au, cuz I'm literally obsessed with it! This one is pretty long lol

Bruce goes with his class to Smallville as a part of a school field trip to see where food is grown, where he meets Kal. The farm they're at gets attacked by a Gotham villain (Joker) who plans to kidnap the Gotham private school kids for ransom. Thus, Superboy and Robin have to save the day! And butt heads the entire time! They sorta suck at not arguing while in costume!

"And this is what a cattle farm looks like! You can see how farmers aim to be as humane as possible!" The teacher droned on and on about farm facts as she led the small class through the barn, the smell of hay and manure strong. Bruce had long since grown disinterested, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he trailed behind his class.

He peered at the cows as they were fed and milked, the echo of moos ringing in his ears. He much preferred his home in Gotham. As noisy and smelly as Gotham was, he was used to its stench and sounds. This, he had no idea how to handle. As he walked, he suddenly bumped into a taller, tanned boy.

"Ouf!" Bruce stumbled back, having not expected to slam into a wall of a boy.

"Oh! Sorry bout that! I wasn't looking where I was going." The boy apologized quickly, the haybay on his shoulder seeming far too heavy for a kid only about Bruce's age, 13. His bright blue eyes met Bruce's icy grey ones, and for a moment, it seemed like a flicked of recognition passed between them. Only for it to quickly disappear.

"I'm uh.. I'm Clark. I volunteer here." The boy placed down the haybale with a thud and stuck out his hand. Bruce accepted it, shaking firmly as his father had taught him.

"Bruce. I'm with the..." Bruce glanced at where his school group was standing moments before. Of course they left without him. "...the field trip... damn it."

Clark chuckled, but his laugh was quickly interrupted by an explosion coming from outside. As the pair ran to see what was happening, a deranged laugh rang through the air. The Joker.

Outside, the Joker had managed to round up Bruce's entire class in an elaborate bird cage, prattling on about how the students were 'Gothams starlings'. Bruce couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Run, I'll go get help." Bruce and Clark spoke at the same time, each of them moving to take off in opposite directions before pausing and realizing what they said.

"It's not safe for you." Clark tried to argue, pointing to the grain silo. Only for Bruce to point towards the pasture. "Well, it's not safe for you either."

The duo glared at each other for a moment before mutually deciding wasting time wasn't worthwhile and both sprinting off.

As soon as Bruce knew Clark was out of sight, he was tugging off his school uniform and letting his cape unfurl behind him, digging in his pocket for his mask as he adjusted his Robin costume.

Likewise, once Bruce was far enough away, Clark shed his overalls and glasses, folding them both neatly before adjusting his own cape, his Superboy costume bright compared to the muddy farm.

As Robin grappled towards the cage, he suddenly once again collided with someone, this time being caught by whoever he slammed into.

"I said I've got this! Uhg! Why does no one trust me to do this!" The voice of a boy groaned as Robin was held by the scruff of his cape. The red and gold emblem on his chest denoted who he was immediately.

"Superboy? Let me go! The Joker is my villain!" Robin argued, flailing against the alien sidekick. He crossed his arms, dangling about a dozen feet in the air as Superboy held him.

"But Smallville is my terf, so whatever villains show up are my fight." As they argued, the Joker finally noticed them.

"Dumb and Dumber! What a lovely surprise! Where's the big bat and jumbo boy scout?" The maniac clown giggled madly, dancing about atop the cage. They both shot him a glare.

"We can continue this after he's locked away. Agreed?" Robins mask shifted slightly on his face as he scrunched his eyebrows, already planning the best method of attack. As he was gently lowered to the ground by Superboy, he stanced up.

"Agreed." Superboy nodded, keeping himself a few inches above the ground, exaggerating the high difference between himself and Robin. His cape billowed behind him, his own anger at the situation obvious.

By the time Superman and Batman arrived, the Joker was thoroughly beaten up, Superboy and Robin practically taking turns trying to prove why they didn't need the others help. The evil clown was clawing through the dirt, begging to be rescued from the teens.

"Robin. I taught you restraint." Batman scolded, causing the boy to stick up his nose. He was covered in dirt and hay and greenish goo, but mostly unharmed. Next to him, Superboy looked like he had been dragged through every puddle of mud on the farm, with various shapes of confetti tangled in his hair, his head bowed in at least some shame. Superman tutted, brushing some pink glittery paper from his sidekicks locks. "And I could have sworn I told Superboy to always contact me first."

"It's not my fault Robin showed up in my terf!" Superboy tried to argue a case for himself, only for Robin to chime in. "It's not my fault Superboy can't protect his own town!"

"It's both of you faults for acting rashly without us. Neither of you are ready to fight on your own yet, and neither of you should be taking on someone like the Joker without backup." Batmans words were surprisingly calm and kind for how angry Robin knew he was.

Besides him, Superman was doing a fantastic job at hiding his own frustration. He held his face in his hands, sighing deeply as Superboy toed at the ground. "Batman is right. Neither of you have enough experience to take on big-time villains. I expect you to reflect on how poorly this could have gone. People could have gotten hurt."

"Yes, sirs." The two young sidekicks spoke in unison, their mentors glancing at each other before sighing. It was hard to stay mad at their sons.

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gothic-aesthetic-gal · 3 days ago

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Old Scars (Part 17)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. Spicier scenes to begin with here but actually mainly a very non-violent chapter. Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

Chapter 17 -

We had been locked into this latest dance for some time now, though time didn't seem to exist as long as we were entangled. I pushed him down onto his back and clambered on top of him, eagerly holding him there. He looked up at me with that strange flicker of admiration again, as I drank in the sense of power I felt at handling him like that, the way he had done to me several times already.

Softly, I ran my thumb over his bottom lip and along the length of one of his scars, feeling how his breath caught in his throat with each deliberate movement my hips made. His blacked out eyes fluttered closed as I tightened my grip on him, drawing him closer and closer into me. He had made good on his threats, finding just the right ways to play me with all the precision of a concert violinist, his hands giving life to all kinds of crescendos.

I threaded my fingers into his curls behind his ear and clenched my hand into a fist, pulling his head back harder against the pillow and teasing a ragged moan out of his parted lips. Unable to resist, I bent down to meet him there, planting a building kiss on his painted mouth. My tongue brushed against his own and sent fresh shivers rushing through me. He kissed me back hungrily, as though he was a man dying of thirst and I was cool water. Like the breaking of the swell against the shorleline, like great rolling waves in a winter storm, we both hit our final apex.

It wasn't until were were both completely spent, collapsing back onto the bed in total defeat, with the first weak rays of morning sunlight poking through the ill-fitting curtains, that I realised how much time must have passed. As I felt his chest rise and fall, each movement becoming gradually shallower, I sighed contentedly. We were both drifting back down to baseline and very slowly the outside world was trickling back into focus. For the entire night, I forgot it existed altogether. The world could have been ending, and I wouldn't have known - or cared.

Unlike the previous re-escalation that had followed brief periods of down-time, I knew that this time we were both finally too tired to go further. Our bodies were covered in the streaked remnants of his face paint, and the various other marks we had left on each other.

Now the intensity of the moment had finally dissipated, I felt a lick of shame at how freely and totally I had given myself over to him, and how eager I was to return all of his affections - whether tender, or violent. I felt like I had regressed into an animal state; possesed by the primeval. It thrilled and terrified me as I lay beside him in silent rapture, turning my head away.

The ugly wallpaper seemed to move: the faded floral design twisting and winding. The heads of giant, faded peonies lolling and dropping, petals shaken from their stalks floating to the floor. I knew well-enough that it was just another aftershock of the drug and they were getting fewer and less intense, but it was still unsettling.

"It's happening again..." I murmured.

I felt him roughly tug at my shoulder, rolling me onto my back, and he leant over me as I stared up at him. I felt his hands slide over my own and pin me down, but I could tell his demeanour was playful. I watched the colours on his face, they seemed like an impressionist painting - the outlines faded and blurred.

"What do you see?"

I was silent for a moment as I pondered his question, his face swimming gradually into sharper focus.

"I see you."

"You saw me before. What if you're still dreaming?" He said, his eyes widening in frantic excitement.

"I'm not."

"How do you know?"

"I'm not dreaming."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I snapped, my temper flaring.

He leaned closer over me, still holding me down.

"But how do you know?"

"Because, I'm not afraid right now."

"Hm, maybe you should be," he said in a way that sent a fresh mixture of fear and excitement through me.

"That place was hell."

"And this place isn't?" He mused.

I tugged one arm free and was struggling to try and pry his grip from my other.

"Yes. And? Let me go already!" I snapped, losing all patience.

He watched my struggle with an air of detachment, before slowly releasing me and humming some kind of made up tune to himself. He had clearly extracted the information he wanted from me in the moment. Things were still swimming a little as I stared at him in silent irritation. He leant back against the headboard, lazily throwing one arm up behind his head.

"So if it's not hell, is it heaven?" He teased.

"Try purgatory," I muttered, not wanting to give any further inflation to his ego.

"Well, if you're still not convinced, I'll just have to convince you," he said, grabbing me again and planting kisses along my collar bone and up my neck.

As good as it felt, I was more than exhausted and had no clue how he had any stamina left in the tank himself.

"Hah, very funny," I muttered, slapping my hand over his face and pushing him away from me like I was reprimanding an over-excitable dog for jumping up at me.

I rolled out of his reach and got up, stretching out and gathering my clothes so that I could get dressed.

"I'm hungry," I announced as my stomach growled in confirmation.

I threw his clothes back at him in a bundle as well, much to his chagrin. Despite playing up his protests, he did also get dressed and wandered back to ground zero - wiping the remnants of his paint away in the bathroom mirror. I also removed the lingering traces of him from my skin as he watched me silently.

"There's a diner a couple of blocks from here. If you give me a half hour, we can go there."

I was a little surprised by this, but it was by no means unwelcome, so I tried not to show it and agreed. I left him to his own devices and wandered the other two rooms in the property. There was what must have been another bedroom once, the walls splashed with fading blue paint. It had several of the crates I had seen in the warehouses he used, and opening one confirmed my suspicions that they were full of weapons. I froze for a moment, considering the weight of the discovery.

Not wanting to think about who might end up staring down the barrel of any of them, I hurriedly replaced the lid and moved on down the hall. This area had a kitchen which might have looked in vogue during the eighties, but clearly had not been updated in any way since. There were a handful of pots and pans in the sink and water dripping periodically onto them was the only sound that filled the empty space.

Suddenly, J reappeared and I found myself missing his purple coat when I saw it had been usurped by a dull beige one. I threw on my own black coat and a scarf, helping him to wind his own around him. As we walked out and down the steps onto the icy lot, he lit up a cigarette and exhaled clouds of smoke into the frosty air. Everything around us seemed to have a faded blue-grey tone in the bleakness of winter.

We made the walk in silence. I didn't know what to say: we had crossed a boundary. He opened the door for me and I slipped by him into the warmth of the diner. It was a pretty jumbled space inside, with a riot of chaotic kitsch décor, but it felt comforting, espescially in contrast to the greyscale world outside. The black and white checkered flooring, the neon casting green and red light, and the random assortment of vintage desert Americana which was wildly out of place in an East Coast city. All of it was oddly comforting. There were only three other people inside, one being the waitress. Maybe there was a cook in the back, but beyond that... I was relieved it wasn't crowded out.

We decided to sit at the opposite end to the one occupied booth, away from civilisation and possible prying eyes. I sank down onto the red leather upholstry and propped my elbows against the silver table between us as he settled into the seat opposite. It was jarring to see him in such a mundane setting, his face absent of the paint and his clothes so unremarkable. The light above him cast him in an eerie green light, and the one above me made my skin look red. The lighting reminded me of dive bars, biker clubs, and old technicolour horror movies.

"I thought you were supposed to take the girl out for food before you got through all the bases." I said, deciding humour was the best way to break the ice.

He laughed.

"Tell me, is that before or after you kidnap the girl when she's pretending to be able to afford the clothes that rich people wear?"

I laughed at the absurdity of the truth in what he was saying.

"You don't think I should have gone window shopping?"

"That's such a fence-sitting mentality. If you want something, you should just take it - by force if necessary," he said, leaning across the table with a chaotic glint in his eyes.

He shrank back into his seat with the arrival of the waitress and we placed our orders and she disappeared again.

"Not everyone has that luxury. That's a very male perspective," I rebuked him.

He seemed to consider this for a moment.

"True enough, but there are different ways of getting people to cooperate."

"And is that what you do to me?" I muttered

He frowned.

"No. I like to see what you do, the choices you make. Why would I take that away? Although, under certain specific conditions, you seemed more than happy to... cooperate," he cracked a smile.

"Oh, I see. Well, if I recall correctly, you were pretty comfortable inverting that dynamic. Those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones," I pushed back.

"I like the unpredictable. Routine is so boring."

"I can't disagree with you there."

I watched him as he fidgeted ceaselessly. To the casual observer it might have looked like anxiety, or even that he was on something, but I knew it came from the unbearable restlessness within him.

The waitress returned and set down the food front of us. Once her back was turned J poured a truly insane amount of sugar onto his pancakes.

"Is this a date?" I asked suddenly, after only one bite of mine.

He seemed a little agitated by my disarming question.

"No".

"Are you sure, because you showered, brushed your teeth and is that - cologne?"

"And that makes this a date?" He said as he set to deconstructing the stack of pancakes in front of him.

"No, what makes it a date is that you're trying to eat differently, and playing house with me here..."

He looked a little irritated at my observations, then confused before shaking all of that off. His face took on a meaner expression, colder and more calculating than before.

"Aren't you the one who started all of this. What happened to-,' he cleared his throat as he hunched forward and began to mockingly imitate my voice, "lie to me, spin me a little fairytale. Tell me everything's wonderful and it'll stay that way."

His words, though deliberately cruel, didn't cut as deep as he'd intended; I had tougher skin than that.

"Sheesh, if you're going to start being mean again, I'm gonna need a drink," I said, waving to the waitress as she poured coffee for the other occupied table at the far end.

"It's not even ten in the morning..." J muttered in disbelief.

"And what? You suddenly care about rules," I laughed.

I flagged down the waitress.

"Hi, excuse me, can I get a margarita please?"

She looked a little taken aback but tried her best to hide it.

"Um, sure miss, I'll see what we can do,"

"Thanks, I really appreciate it," I added, putting down a tip pre-emptively.

J raised his eyebrow as she retreated.

"A margarita?!" He said, clearly amused.

"What are you, my grandmother? Stop clutching at your pearls already," I teased, kicking him under the table.

I'd accidentally done it more forcefully than I had meant to and he looked at me stony-faced for a moment. I froze. Then he broke into a smile and raucous laughter. It was definitely preferable to see his mood shift again and I couldn't help but laugh too.

She returned with a glass which looked like it was for an ice cream sundae, complete with lime slices, a sparkly decoration that looked like a little tinsel firework and a little paper umbrella for good measure.

"I hope it's okay, I had to look up how to make it," she said anxiously.

"Ah look how cute that is! Thank you!" I beamed.

The waitress gave me a genuine smile, pleased with her improvisation and cautiously waited for me to taste it. I sipped it and gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. I slid her a hundred dollar bill and her eyes went wide like two saucers. I beckoned her closer.

"Put that in your pocket and don't tell your boss. It's only for you, and we'll pay for the food like normal at the end." I whispered.

She shakily stashed it and smiled as she left us to finish eating.

J was watching me wordlessly the entire time. I deliberately ignored his gaze and finshed off my bacon pancakes between sips of margarita.

"You have a soft spot for people in the service industry, particularly young women."

"Well that makes me sound very creepy."

"But it's true."

"Well, yeah. Since they're the people who often get the most shit from everyone else. What else am I supposed to do with blood money anyway?"

"Ah. So it makes you feel better about that being stolen mob cash? I see," he said leaning back in seat.

"Well, what else am I gonna do? Spend it on some stupid consumerist bullshit that I don't need? And it's not like a couple of thousand would get me my own apartmemt, is it? So may as well give it away to people who deserve it."

"But you have next to nothing yourself, you said as much. You're not tempted deposit it all in your account?"

"No. I've nearly died twice now. Money isn't gonna come with me when I finally kick the bucket, is it? Sure, I could put it in my account and give a few more month's rent to my crooked landlord, but then what? Besides, if I use my bank account, the cops I crossed could easily find out i'm alive."

"It's true about your account, of course," he conceeded.

"Look, I'm not saying it changes anything drastically, but I try to help people and I don't see that as a weakness. I don't expect you to understand that."

"Hm," was all he responded as he continued to dissect his pancakes.

His constant analytical interrogation made me feel like I was also on his plate. Sure, he was trying to get to know me, but the way he approached it like some sort of study, some kind of post-mortem investigation, unsettled me.

I gazed out of the window at the nearly empty lot. The fog was once again rolling in from the docks filling the city with shadows and obscurity. It reminded me again of what I'd seen while dosed with the toxin.

"Can you dance?" I asked abruptly.

He frowned.

"Well, that depends, are we talking saturday night fever or ballroom?"

"Can you Waltz?"

I watched his facial expressions as he seemed to privately rake over his mystery past.

"It's been a long time, and I wouldn't say well. What about you?"

"No."

"You were trying on ball gowns and you don't know how to dance..." he said in mild amusement.

I sighed.

"You didn't learn for school dances or anything like that?"

"No, I didn't have much time for - it doesn't matter."

"Ah, troubled kid were we?" He said, waving his fork in my direction.

"The past is the past, let's not pull on those threads," I said, finishing my drink.

He looked a little disappointed, but didn't say anything in protest. I couldn't hide the sadness which was filling me up suddenly. He watched me closely as I neatly placed my knife and fork on my empty plate and pushed it away from me. I set down enough to cover the bill from one of the stacks of stray bills J had in his hideout. It was a relief that he truly did not care about money or if I took some of it. In all honesty, it felt good to have it on me, if only for times like these where I didn't have to worry about paying for food and could leave a generous tip. It was a power I wasn't accustomed to having.

He stood up and put back on his coat and scarf. As I was doing the same, he suddenly grabbed me by the hand and tugged me into the aisle. I felt like my arm was going to pop out of place almost.

"Ouch, what gives?" I gasped.

"I have an idea. You'll see," he answered slyly.

He grinned and continued to drag me to the door. The waitress smiled and I hurriedly waved goodbye as we passed her, before I was whisked outside into the cold.

We crossed one of the abandoned parking lots, peppered with the bare limbs of various plants breaking through the cracks in the concrete. They rustled in the breeze and the fog was so thick that I couldn't see more than a few metres in any direction. The gulls screamed as they circled ahead, like the restless spirits of unseen sailors - ships had sunk to the bottom of the harbour in a long bygone era. There was a beauty in the strangeness of the desolate space and the city had disappeared into it.

"Now, let me see. I think I know the sequence of steps," J muttered, abruptly stopping and pulling me in close.

"What?"

"Put your hand here, and here. No, here," He instructed, posing my limbs like a marionette on unseen strings.

"What are you doing?" I demanded anxiously.

"Don't you want to dance?" He asked, sounding frustrated.

"Well yes, but-"

He cut me off by interjecting.

"Good! This is the first position."

I shakily followed his direction, feeling immediately self-conscious.

"Then step this way. Just mirror my feet."

I felt so clumsy and uncoordinated but tried to follow each slow move.

"See how it makes a box?" He encouraged.

"I think so?"

"Just keep following. I put this foot forward, you put that one back. It's push and pull."

I did start to settle into the rhythm of it with the repetition, and he seemed to add a turn so that we began to rotate around with the steps. It made me think of a Spirograph, like the one I had as a kid. I imagined our path drawing out a pattern in vibrant colour on the ground.

"See? One, two, three, one, two, three. Rinse and repeat," he grinned.

I couldn't help but smile back a little, even whilst I felt so inelegant. How I wished that I magically knew all of this, like in the dream, but at least that meant I was currently awake.

"Of course, all this repetition is so boring," he announced suddenly, rapidly putting me into a spin and a dip.

I was afraid for a moment that I was about to fall onto my back and drag him with me, but he caught me. Before, I could say or do anything further, he drew me into a passionate kiss. My concerns melted away in the fire, the moment his lips met my own.

When he broke away and pulled me back upright, I had to catch my breath. Ever since i'd come round from the toxin, I felt exhausted. Going at it like bunny rabbits all night had not helped, and my body ached all over.

"Let's go back. You need to rest," He said firmly, noticing my shift in demeanour.

Link to the masterlist for other chapters:

Tag list:

If I forgot anyone or you want to be removed from the tag list - please let me know! 💕

@dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd

@dance-like-a-clown

@furisodespirit

@heath-ledger-jokers-wife

@sunfyrejoker

@lightsabergirl

@clowning--around

@ruby-da-archangel

@harleenqvinn

@helchronicles

@ostricx

@knoepfl

@jumpingjellyfishhaha

@nicklet94

@torossosebs

@all-bi-myselfs-blog

Dividers by @strangergraphics ✨️

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