#sorry this turned more into a martha wayne reading list then anything

[batboopp]

@lesbianbarbaragordon Batman: The Ultimate Evil is one of my favorite Martha Wayne centered stories, mainly because she impacts both Bruce, his character growth, and the actual story so much without actually being there. you should 100% read this if you want a good grasp of Martha’s character. Batman: Family (v2) isn’t as focused on her (she’s only briefly mentioned in issue 1, 7, and 8) but she’s still extremely important in the progression of the story. Also it’s just a great read anyways, it takes place after No Man’s Land so a lot of different characters are in it. Batman: legends of the dark knight (Halloween special 2) shows Martha influencing the way Bruce thinks and reacts to his trauma in a way I think is very notable to both her and Bruce. Batman: Death and the Maidens is more centered around Bruce and his current/developing relationships and conflicts with the Al Ghul family (with a main focus on Nyssa, Ra’s, and Talia) then it is with his parents, but his mother is prevalent in issues 1, 4, and 5. Thomas also shows up in issue 6-7 but be warned, he kind of sucks. Batman: the Return of Bruce Wayne, issue #5 is an elseworld where Martha Wayne is murdered, and Bruce is the detective who attempts to figure out who did it. You don’t actually have to read this to understand who Martha was as a person because it has nothing to do with the main continuity, but she does technically build the story Bruce works in. (I’m not gonna include any more elsewords, just wanted to put this one here because it talks about Martha’s family.) In Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader?, Martha Wayne appears during Batman’s final moments. There isn’t much about specifically her outside of Bruce’s childhood, but I do think it means something about how Batman imagined his mother of all people when he was dying. Also, it’s just a great read in my opinion :) unfortunately I don’t know any other stories where Martha Waynes actual life is explored outside of small references or straight up hallucinations or out-of-body experiences, but she does make many small appearances that further explain who she was as a person. I’ll just put them here so people don’t have to read entire storylines just for like one panel of Martha.

(detective comics #935)

(detective comics #978)

(Streets of Gotham, issue #14)

(Batman: The Knight, issue #10)

(Batman and Robin v2: Annual 1)

(Batman: Family mini adventures)

Legends of the Dark Knight v2, issue #8

Batman: Dark Age, issue #5

Poison Ivy: issue #25

theres way way more than just these btw. the great thing about being famously, mysteriously dead for centuries is that people still remember and talk about you a lot :)

I think the correlation between batman and his mother needs to be talked about more. they both devoted their lives to fighting crime with a whole secret identity. and they were both willing to die for it, and one of them did in the end. both of them are established to be mentally ill in some capacity. both of them generally had the same interests. they were both seen as dumber and simpler in the public eye (Martha being “just a housewife” and Bruce being just a himbo playboy) both considered Alfred to be their safe person, the one person they could talk to about anything. they both have the same handwriting for gods sake. Martha isn’t brought up a lot in comics unless it directly correlates with batman himself, but when she does, she is literally his carbon copy. hello does anyone hear this.

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 2 Finding Out (Family/Friends)

Prev 

AO3

@maribat-bdbwm

“Mari!” Adrien yells, running past Batman to sweep her up in a hug. Marinette’s face instantly heats up, but she buries herself into the hug. After all, it’s not every day she faces a supervillain determined to kill her with a dangerous weapon...without her suit, anyway.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” Marinette reassures him, relishing in the comfort. A cleared throat makes her jump back and look at Batman who, despite clearing his throat and cutting off the most amazing hug ever, has no emotions on his face. Whatsoever. Cause that’s not intimidating or anything.

“The police will need your statement, Miss Dupain Cheng.” Batman says. Marinette nods, squeaking when Adrien reaches down and entwines his fingers with hers. Following Batman’s directions to the awaiting police, Marinette feels nerves flood her systerm as she sees the sheer number of officers on the other side of the door. Sucking in a deep breath, she feels Adrien squeeze her hand. Shooting him a thankful smile, Marinette uses her unattached hand to open the door and step out into the mess of personnel. A man with a mustache and square glasses steps forward immediately, his hand extended.

“Hello Miss Dupain Cheng. I’m Commissioner Jim Gordon. We were in communication with Batman while he was inside so we heard some of what happened. Would you be comfortable telling us what happened? We can get you checked over by paramedics first, if you want.” Commissioner Gordon says.

“Oh, no, no. I’m fine. I don’t-” She starts to say, but a gruff voice cuts her off.

“She should be examined immediately, Gordon. She may have inhaled smoke from the smoke bombs due to proximity. She also could have burns to her face or ears from Joker’s gun. He shot it and then proceeded to prod her with it.” Batman says, the last part of his ‘report’ slightly more gruff than the first. Was he…..worried about her? Marinette shakes that thought off almost immediately. Why would Batman be worried about her? Wait, was he really going to make her see the paramedics when all she wanted to do was talk to the officers so she could get back to the trip?

“I assure you, Monsieur Batman, Monsieur Gordon, I don’t need to see the paramedics. I’m a little shaky, but that’s all. I mean, I was held at gunpoint. I think shaky is appropriate, non?” Marinette asks, flashing the two a bright smile. Gordon raises an eyebrow and glances at Batman who shakes his head stiffly.

“She gets examined.” He says, leaving no room for questions as he pulls his grappling hook (?!?!) out and retreats to the rooftop.

“You heard the man. We can talk as you’re examined, if you’d prefer. I’m sure you just want to put this whole business behind you.” Commissioner Gordon says kindly. Marinette sighs in relief and nods, smiling again at the man. Hopefully this would be taken care of quickly. --- Bruce Wayne was slightly panicking, though he would never admit it. When reports of the Joker being spotted at the Gotham City Museum of Modern Art first rolled in, he assumed his biggest challenge would be keeping Jason from murdering the clown. He did not expect to see a small girl being held at gunpoint. A girl who looked like a strange mix between his mother, and someone else. But he couldn’t place his- of course. Memories flood his mind as he thinks back to the woman who was so clearly related to the small girl. Bridgette Le. A woman that he, at one time, thought he would be able to spend the rest of his life with. Until she left Gotham and cut off all contact between the two. Oh god. She wouldn’t….would she? --- “I don’t understand why that older paramedic looked like she’d seen a ghost.” Marinette says with a pout as she continues working on the embroidery for a jacket for Jagged. Design never sleeps.

“What d’ya mean?” Adrien asks from his nest of blankets on her bed. Marinette tries to focus on keeping her blush down. Apparently, the attack at the museum had scared Adrien more than her, though she imagined he was scared on her behalf. But she couldn’t quite understand why...nevertheless, he had become attached at her hip and hadn’t left her side since they got back to the hotel. Even though all she really wanted was a little alone time to talk to Tikki. Especially about the chance of the Miraculous Cure working here. Maybe if she was in the battle…

“Didn’t you notice? He was fine til he looked into my eyes and then he got super pale. He looked like he was going to say something, but Monsieur Gordon stopped him before he could.” Marinette recounts, remembering the way the paramedic had to switch out since his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“I didn’t notice that. That’s weird. Anything else happen like that today?” Adrien asks, finally sitting up and giving her his full attention. Marinette pauses her stitching and purses her lips as she runs the days events back through her head. The paramedic. Batman. Joker. Arriving late to the museum. The cab ride. Being left at the hotel. Coffee-

“Well,” Marinette starts, furrowing her eyebrows as she tries to rationalize the man’s actions in addition to the actions of the paramedic. But something wasn’t adding up. “There was my cab ride to the museum.”

“What happened? Was someone creepy? I can fight them for you!” Adrien offers, a little too cheery. Marinette freezes as she studies his face, searching for something. Adrien had been off all day. More protective than he’d been in awhile. And the few times Lila had spoken, he had scowled at her instead of ignored her. Was he finally coming around to the idea that the high road would not work with Lila? Pushing those thoughts off for another time, Marinette shakes her head.

“No, no. Nothing like that. But as I was leaving, he called me Miss Wayne.” Marinette admits, not expecting Adrien’s uncontrollable laughter.

“He, you, oh my god!” He laughs, clutching his sides. Marinette’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as she sets the jacket down on the desk.

“What?” She asks, completely and totally frustrated with the situation. Adrien laughs for another minute before calming down, wiping tears from his eyes and shooting her a blinding smile. Not his model smile. An actual smile that warms her heart and her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry Mari. It’s just, I think he was referring to the fact that you look like the typical kid Bruce Wayne adopts.” Adrien says and Marinette’s blood freezes.

“Did you say Bruce Wayne?” Marinette asks and Adrien nods, his previous mirth wiped from his face.

“Yeah, Mari, are you okay?” He asks. Marinette nods, then shakes her head, then groans and throws up her arms in frustration.

“I don’t know! I just- you remember how I told you I’m adopted?” She asks. Adrien nods, then stops. A look of mixed terror and awe flooding his face.

“Oh god, Mari. You never told me the name. Your birth father-”

“His name is Bruce Wayne. But there’s gotta be hundreds if not thousands of Bruce Waynes in the US right?” Marinette asks, even as her hope in that idea dwindles.

“The US? He’s confirmed from the US?” Adrien asks, already pulling out his phone.

“Yes. Adrien, what are you doing?” She asks, suddenly worried as she jumps onto the bed next to him, desperately trying to see his phone.

“I’m googling Bruce Wayne and Bridgette Le as a combined search. Wayne is one of the most prominent figures in Gotham, all of his previous relationships have photographic evidence. Except for whoever the mother of his youngest is. But that’s probably because he wasn’t in the country at that time.” Adrien says, typing away furiously on his phone. Marinette’s eyebrow quirks up in amusement.

“Since when were you a master researcher?” She asks with a grin.

“Since one of my best friends found out she’s adopted and it could be the man who hosts the only palatable high society parties. Seriously. And they’d be much better if you were there and-holy shit. Your bio mom looks just like you!” Adrien exclaims, turning the phone to her. Marinette inhales deeply and thanks whatever power there is that she’s not in Paris right now. The emotions running over her at an indescribable speed...not all of them are positive. And they’re all overwhelming as she looks at a picture that very clearly shows her bio mom with Bruce Wayne. As in the Gotham Bruce Wayne. Not a different unknown Bruce Wayne across the country somewhere. Nope. A man who is apparently prominent enough that Monsieur Agreste makes his son go to the man’s parties.

“I don’t suppose she just had a type for men named Bruce Wayne?” Marinette says weakly. This was not what she expected. --- This was exactly what he expected. Looking at the birth records for one Marinette Le, where he’s noted as the father. Though why he wasn’t notified before the girl’s custody was signed over to Sabine Cheng, he’ll never understand. His jaw clenches as he continues reading, eyes scanning over Bridgette’s death certificate before glancing back at Marinette’s birth certificate. A daughter. He had a daughter. Another child that he would never be able to hold when they were small. Another child that grew up without him. Another child that he didn’t meet until they were already a person. Someone with their own experiences individual from his own, someone that may not even know he had found them. And that he wanted nothing more than to get to know someone who was brave enough to stand between the Joker and her friends. Someone who was determined not to let what should have been the most traumatic experience in her life be a set back. He had a daughter. And he wanted to meet her.

***

Next

Note, my headcannon is that the paramedic that panicked did so because he was one of the first responders the night that the Waynes were murdered. And while she looks a lot like her birth mom, Marinette also definitely has Martha Wayne’s eyes and the paramedic could NOT deal. Also, let me know if you want tagged!

Tag List: @jjmjjktth

[writingwithadinosaur]

“From Something to Nothing to Something” - Part 6

“From Something to Nothing to Something” - Part 6

My Masterlist - Here Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Alfred Pennyworth x Reader

Word Count: 2,300-ish

Key: Chunks of text are the reader's thoughts/inner monologue. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: None that I’m aware of. But please let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After an apartment robbery changes your life, you find out how lucky you are.

Author’s Note: I know Alfred isn’t a high demand character, but I loved his arch and how they portrayed him in the show. I hope you enjoy it!

This is not beta-read, so let me know if there are any huge mistakes.

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List: @luciebell-writes @welcome-to-cobblepothell @gothamimagines @theeactress @aya-fay @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @the-world-has-buttery-smiles @sj-thefan​ @cutesnakemum @sharknadoslut @superwholockgeekgirl4life @writings-of-a-girl​ @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do I look okay? Wait-- No. Don’t answer that. I know I look like an anxious mess. Do I at least look slightly professional? Be honest.”

You stood in front of Bruce and Alfred, trying your best to not show too much of  your anxious energy coming through the shakiness of your hands. The boys had walked you the director of the Martha Wayne Foundation, Mr.Jeffin’s, office. You had already talked to his secretary to let him know you were early for your interview. 

“You look like you already work here, (Y/N).” Bruce complimented. 

You smiled and let out a huff of air through your nose that resembled a laugh. You took a deep breath and thanked him. But then you turned to Alfred, hoping he would be honest. When you saw his face, he was staring at you with purely kind eyes. 

“You look fantastic, Miss. I know sayin’ this won’t do nothin’ for your nerves, but you have nothing to worry about.” 

“This is my first big job interview, I honestly think I have a lot to worry about, Alfie. This isn’t some local theater. This is Martha’s Foundation. I--I just--” 

Alfred met your eyes when he heard you choke on your words. He could see that you were trying your best to look composed, but the shaky exhale that left your lips gave you away. 

“C’mere.” He gently put a hand on your back and guided you off to the side, away from Bruce and Jeffin’s secretary. 

Alfred stood a bit closer to you so he could speak in a hushed tone, his words for your ears only. His hands moved to your upper arms as he smoothed his thumbs against the fabric of your blazer.

“Look, you have every right to be nervous, Miss. But you also have to see that you can do this. Yes, this is going to be a big responsibility.” You closed your eyes and took a deep inhale at that thought. Alfred quickly tried to change his strategy. “Think of it like one of the shows you worked on, yeah? Your job was no small task. You had to deal with a lot of various things that could change every night, and you came out with a happy director, cast, and crew, and a successful show.”

You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face as you thought about Alfred’s analogy. It really did hit differently when he put it that way. He could tell his words were working, but before he could keep going, Mr.Jeffin’s secretary spoke up. You turned to face her.

“Ms.(Y/L/N)? Mr.Jeffins will see you now.”  You quickly turned back to Alfred, still nervous, but not shaking as badly as you were a few moments ago. Alfred leaned down to find your eyes and make you look at him.

“Hey. Look at me, luv.” You did so as you took a calming breath. “This is just a meetin’. Don’t even think about the job attached to it. This is just a chance to network with someone, yeah? You just gotta be yourself. Well, maybe don’t get too comfortable with him. He is married already. And I’m sure his husband would have some questions.” 

The joke caught you off guard, earning Alfred one of your true laughs. Both of you smile at each other, relishing in this short moment. Alfred then takes an exaggerated breath, ushering you to do the same as he continued.

“Now, you’re gonna go in that office and impress the hell outta Jeffins, yeah?” You nod and smile. 

“Thank you, Alfie. I needed this.” 

“Anytime, Miss.” You lean up and kiss his cheek before turning and meeting with Jeffin’s secretary, who walks you into the office after you glance one last time at your boys. Alfred was left in a bit of shock at your action. Once you were inside, Bruce looked knowingly at Alfred, who blinked a few times before shaking himself back into reality. 

That was 48 minutes ago. 

Bruce had back to back meetings today at Wayne Enterprises. This one was about a handful of clinics that were struggling. Alfred tried his best to focus on the meeting, but his mind kept wandering back to you; Wondering how your interview was going or if you ever calmed down.

Alfred hadn’t realized how in his mind he was until Bruce stood from his chair in front of Alfred and thanked the members in the room for coming. Alfred then followed Bruce out of this board room and they made their way to the next one. This meeting was about the theatre district restoration that was being done through the Martha Wayne Foundation. 

As the boys made their way to their seats in this new conference room, Alfred’s thoughts went back to you. Mr.Jeffins was supposed to be at this meeting, which meant that your interview should be over. 

Alfred wished he could find you and check in on you. But he had to be with Bruce. He would have time to talk with you later at home.

When two figures came into the room, Alfred was taken by surprise. His wish had come true sooner than expected.

As the hand on the wall clock struck the hour, Mr.Jeffins walked through the door, with you a step or two behind him, his arm slightly extending as he checked his wristwatch.

“Good afternoon, everyone! Sorry for cutting it close there. I was having a lovely conversation with Ms.(Y/L/N) and we lost track of time! (Y/N) will be joining our management team as my assistant.”

 He sat down in his chair at the head of the table opposite Bruce and motioned for you to sit to his right. You smiled, waved, and took your seat as the others in the room said their quick “hellos” and “congratulations.” You looked to Bruce and Alfred and gave them a slightly excessive smile, knowing you would talk to them later about the last hour of your life. 

“I hope you all will take the time to get to know (Y/N) and make her feel at home here. I have no doubts that she will fit right in.” Jeffins smiled at you before turning his attention to the rest of the office. “Now, I’m going to try to keep this meeting short and sweet so we can open up the room for questions and such.”

Jeffins kept true to his word and shaved off 15 minutes from the original time frame for the meeting. He explained that the Martha Wayne Foundation was going to have a gala next weekend to let the theatre patrons and some of Gotham’s wealthiest families know about the plans for the restoration of the historic theatre district. The event’s goal is to not only raise awareness of the plans for the remodeling, but also invite people to donate or sponsor part of the project. 

You were incredibly excited to see a part of your city that you held dear to your heart get the long overdue TLC that it deserved. 

Alfred could see the spark in your eyes as the meeting went on. Whether it be when you just listened to the discussion around you or when you fought back the anxiety he was sure was still bubbling inside of you and spoke up; Alfred was beyond proud of you.

As most of the meeting attendees filed out of the room, you and Jeffins stayed seated. You were writing out ideas that had been discussed in this meeting as well as things to talk about in future meetings. Your boss was closing the file in front of him as Bruce walked towards you two.

“Mr.Jeffins, do you mind if I have a word with (Y/N)?”

“Not at all, Mr. Wayne!” Mr.Jeffins turned to you as you stood up. “Come by my office before you leave for the day. I have one or two more things that I want to pick your brain about. And you still have to finish your story about that gaudy theater up north!”  

“Absolutely, sir. I’ll be there as soon as I figure out how to get back to the office.” You chuckled as you nodded in agreement. 

“We’ll make sure she finds her way back. It shouldn’t be long.” Bruce spoke up. Jeffins just nodded and left the room. 

As soon as he was out of the room and out of ear shot, you let yourself relax before looking to your boys. You let one of the largest smiles you’ve had in weeks fill up your face as Bruce came in to hug you.

“Congratulations, (Y/N)! You truly are going to be an amazing addition here. Mother would be so proud to have you on her team.” You felt the sting of tears grow as you squeezed your eyes shut and hugged Bruce tighter. All you could say was a whispered “thank you” into the hug. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is this a bad time?” You quickly look up and let go of Bruce. A different man had walked into the room. You hoped Bruce or Alfred knew who he was because you sure as hell didn’t.

“Not at all, Mr.Fox.” Bruce calmly answered. 

“I uh… Have those recommendations you wanted. Do you have a moment?” 

Bruce nodded as he and this Mr.Fox went out to discuss something in the hall, leaving you and Alfred alone. 

You were already walking towards Alfred as he let out a “Come ‘ere, you,” opened his arms and embraced you. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his went around your middle. Before you could even think about pulling away, Alfred lifted you up and spun you around once. A truly happy laugh erupted as he did so.

“I knew you could do it, luv. I knew it.” Alfred put you down and let his hands linger against your waist for a moment before pulling away and fixing his vest. You leaned against the table behind you as you rubbed a hand against your face.

“I honestly don’t even know how it happened! I walked in and we talked about some of my job experiences. But then we realized that I worked with a college buddy of his on a show a few years ago and we just chatted from there. After getting to know me for 30 minutes, we just clicked. Next thing I know, Jeffins is handing me the employment papers and we start going over them and signing myself into the company!” 

You look back at Alfred completely bewildered by everything that had just happened. He was watching you with nothing but admiration and pride in his eyes. 

“That’s wonderful, Miss! I know you’ve heard this already, but you really are gonna be incredible here.” You let out a long exhale as you rub the back of your neck.

“God I hope so. I’ve only been officially working here for the last” you check the clock on the wall, “hour and seventeen minutes, but I really want this.”

“I know you’ll be incredible. You know how I know?” You smile, leaning into his game.

“How?”

“Because I know you. I know the exceptional woman that stands before me when she is this” Alfred motioned to your outfit, “beautiful and powerful professional, and when she is in her pajamas, dancing around a kitchen without a care in the world.” Alfred took your hand in his, making you really focus on him and what he had to say. “You, (Y/N), are the marvelous mind that this company” Alfred turned to look at Bruce talking with Mr.Fox before turning back to you and taking a breath. “and this family needs.”

You were on the verge of tears at Alfred’s words. You knew he cared about you. And after your moment in the kitchen the other day, you had a strong belief that your more romantic feelings for him were reciprocated. But you hadn’t expected this kind of emotion to come from him right now. You weren’t upset by it. In fact, it was the opposite: If you two were truly alone, with no chance of someone walking by or seeing you two, you would have kissed him.

But all you could do right now was thank him with your words. 

“Thank you, Alfred. But one of the only reasons I’m as ‘exceptional’ as you praise me to be is because I have the pleasure of having you in my life.”

“The pleasure is all mine, luv.” Alfred quietly said as he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. You both smiled like school children, cherishing this moment before he lightly squeezed your hand. “Now, Master B has one more meeting that should last about an hour or so. So hows about we walk you to Jeffin’s office and then swing by and pick you up afterwards?”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” You push yourself off of the conference table to stand. As you do, Alfred offers his arm out to you. You smile and playfully roll your eyes. “Do you always have to be such an old timey gentleman, Alfie?”

“Oi! You--” Before he could say much else, you gently put your hand on his arm and let him lead you out of the office. It was hard to hear, but you definitely heard him call you a “cheeky little” something under his breath and through a small smile that he tried to keep hidden before getting Bruce’s attention.

[amoretheiwa]

The Dark Knight and the Boy Scout

First off, I would like to sincerely apologize. This was supposed to go up on Monday--it is now Friday, in case you haven’t noticed. It has been a busy and tiring week for me and I spent all of Monday in either airports or on planes. So, without further ado, the first part of Chapter Two.

Read on AO3

Chapter 2: Enter Last Son of Krypton A

Breanna Wayne is turning 23 years old. It has been 4 months since Batman fought the Joker. While getting to know someone new at her birthday party, the contraption the media has taken to calling the Batsignal (thanks a lot, Gordon) lights up the sky. In the name of safety, Breanna sends her guests home and dons the cowl—only to run into the Man of Steel himself just a few hours after taking care of the situation. It turns out they’re both looking for the same thing, and Breanna reluctantly agrees to work with him for just this case. This chapter and the next 2 (split up into 6 different postings) will be one story arc.

It was only four months since the Joker had appeared, but Gotham society had already bounced back from their member’s deaths; it wasn’t entirely uncommon for people to go missing or die every once in a while. For Breanna’s 23rd birthday party, she hosted a calm celebration in the form of a gala at Wayne Manor. She and Alfred pored over the guest list for over a week, making sure no one was slighted and the proper amount of media was invited as not reporting press but actual guests. It was with a grimace she acquiesced to having the recently returned Oliver Queen and the not-currently-on-parole Lex Luthor.

“If I didn’t have to keep up appearances…” she muttered under her breath. Walking in a handstand behind her butler, Breanna felt sweat slowly dripping down her back and pooling in her bra strap. Whenever he stopped to dust something she started doing a series of push-ups as quickly as possible.

“But I’m afraid you do, Mistress. Unless you’d like the police and FBI and others still after the identity of Batman to make some obscure connections.”

Breanna grunted and started moving after him as moved from one hallway table to another.

“I still don’t understand the point of Batman versus Batwoman,” she gasped.

Less than gracefully she let herself fall back into a standing position, putting a hand on her hip.

“Why does there need to be a gender? Why can’t I just be the Bat?”

Alfred spared her a wry look before continuing his chore.

“I don’t have an answer to that, but I will say that the need to assign labels that have caused this misgendering your nighttime persona has given you an inkling more safety.”

Breanna clicked her tongue and turned around.

“I’m going to hit the shower, Alfred. When I’m done if you wouldn’t mind helping me get everything laid out for tonight that would be fantastic.”

As she walked back down the hallway—this time on her feet—Alfred called after her.

“Are you wearing the blue dress or the red dress tonight?”

Breanna paused and shrugged, glancing back at him.

“The blue one, I guess.”

He nodded in reply.

The Wayne family had employed only one servant since Martha and Thomas made the decision to stop hosting society events at their family home, and that same servant still continued to be the sole long-term employee. For the sake of the upcoming gala, however, Breanna and Alfred had hired a few chefs and waiters with catering experience and an event planner—Rachael Iverson—who took care of the details Breanna didn’t care about. She did care about security, the food, and the color scheme. As cliché as it was, the heiress' favorite color was blue, the same color as her eyes, without a preference for shade.

She was lucky to have no allergies but knew some of the guests had some food allergies and after contacting each of the invitees she had compiled a list of possible refreshments and the planner took care of the rest. The party itself was relegated to the ballroom and gardens only, and the individuals hired to take care of the decorating showed up just three hours before it was to begin. By then, Breanna and Alfred had made sure that any artifacts associated with her nightlife were carefully hidden or stowed away if not already. Her hair was in a simple bun, still wet from her shower, and she ignored the water slowly dripping down onto the neckline of her t-shirt as she spoke with the dark-skinned woman in charge of the whole party when one of her few true friends attending appeared.

Ever since their first interview, Breanna had corresponded with Lois Lane regularly, exchanging information and the occasional meme as it came across their respective attention. More pen pals than the traditional friend, the two women had arranged to get ready together. Breanna politely excused herself from her conversation and turned to hug the shorter woman. For once she wasn’t in a suit, rather Lois had chosen to wear a pair of worn sweatpants and a t-shirt that had obviously seen better days. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail and her own blue eyes were hidden by a pair of aviator sunglasses that Breanna commented on.

“Clark got them for me for my last birthday,” she explained.

Breanna smiled—she had heard much about Clark Kent and was excited to meet him that night—and gave Lois a quick hug.

“Come on in,” she said, gesturing up the steps of the Manor. Lois followed quickly, pulling a small suitcase behind her. Despite the risks that Alfred had repeated more than once, Breanna had impulsively invited the older woman to spend the night.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess, they’re about halfway done getting everything ready.”

Lois pushed her sunglass on top of her head, taking her time to look around the foyer.

“What you call a mess is still impeccable to me, Bre.”

Breanna rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, Lo, come on.”

They went up the main stairs quickly and passed Alfred, who moved out of their way with a slight bow of his head.

“Breanna, Miss Lane.”

“Hi Alfred,” Lois said with a grin.

“I have your things laid out on your bed, Miss Wayne,” he said with a soft smile at his ward. Breanna grinned at him; there was something akin to happiness in her eyes that he had not seen for some time.

“Thank you, Alfred. You’re free to go whenever you like.”

He scoffed and the two women paused to stare at him.

“I am not spending my night off anywhere but my room, as there are frankly too many episodes of Downtown Abbey to catch up on.”

Breanna and Lois turned towards each and began to giggle, watching as Alfred shook his head and walked off as regally as ever.

“He’s certainly a character,” Lois quipped.

Breanna nodded and began leading the way again.

“You would not believe the snark. Sometimes I wish I could just turn him loose on the reporters instead of saying anything: no offense.”

“None taken,” Lois waved her hand.

When they reached Breanna’s spacious room Lois put her suitcase on top of the bed. She began pulling her stuff out as Breanna disappeared into the bathroom. She came out with a small hand towel pressed again the back of her neck, mouth opened as if to say something. She froze when she saw what Lois was holding. Not a dress, though she could see some dark red fabric peeking out. No, it was a large glossy picture of Batman, Gotham’s defender. Lois had an eyebrow raised and her other hand resting on her hip.

“What’s that for?” Breanna asked, recovering quickly.

“I’m not dumb, Bre, you know that. When were you going to tell me?”

Breanna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but she forced a smile.

“Tell you what? That I’m dating the Bat?” She laughed but the seriousness on Lois’ face did not go away.

“A little hard to date yourself but if that’s how you want to play it the fine.” She laid the picture down on top of Breanna’s dress and proceeded to pull out her phone from her pocket. She flicked it open and tapped the screen a few times before walking around the bed.

“You return to Gotham after a having disappeared for two years, and less than 12 months later the Bat is first seen. You never advertised this, it’s not on your Wikipedia page, but you not only have a complete bachelor’s in business management but also history, forensics, and criminal psychology of all things. It took some digging but apparently, you have received instruction from some of the top martial artists in the world, and must be proficient in at least nine different languages with the friends you have in 20 different countries.”

Lois paused, raising her eyebrow again.

“Your pictures in the tabloids and the most-used stock photos all have you looking the same, but in person it’s obvious that they’ve been touched up to take away some of your muscular definitions, and it’s a well-known secret in the makeup artist world that you wearing padding on your chest to give the illusion of having bigger boobs than you really do and you have a few scars on your shoulders that require concealer most of the time.”

Lois looked back down at her phone, scrolling a little, and Breanna collapsed in one of her armchairs that faced the room while still providing a view of her balcony.

“You have always voiced your support of the current Commissioner, James Gordon, and the Bat seems to be an ally if not a friend of his. Also, when you were targeted by the Joker a few months ago, Batman did not show up like he did at some of the other victim’s residences.”

Breanna stared at her friend with wide eyes, frozen in the silence before letting her head fall into her empty hand. She rubbed her face while the hand holding the now-wet towel clenched into a fist.

“Is it really that obvious?” she mumbled.

Lois laughed a sharp honking noise, and curled up in the other arm chair.

“Obvious? That took me close to a year to put together, and I never would have thought to except for some of the things you said in our first interview that sounded eerily similar to what others were saying when talking about Batman.”

Breanna glanced at Lois, narrowing her eyes.

Lois gave her a look that screamed “What?” and raised her shoulders.

“I’m an investigative journalist. It’s what I do.”

Breanna fell back into the chair and closed her eyes.

“I know.”

They were both silent, both thinking before Lois shifted her feet to underneath her body.

“I’m not going to tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Breanna’s eyes snapped open and Lois felt that something had shifted from the Breanna Wayne she knew to whoever this was in front of her.

“Oh? Why not? It would be the article of the century, better than anything you have ever written.”

Lois pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

“I’d never be able to write anything better, afterward, either. Besides, I think what you’re doing is important and it’s not my place.”

Breanna starred at her for a little bit longer before shoving herself out of the chair. She began to pace, half of her steps in the light from the balcony window-doors, the other half in the shadowed contrast of the wall. It was while she was in the shadow that she stopped, turning to face Lois better.

“I believe you,” she said at last, her voice serious.

Lois rolled her eyes and stood up, putting her hands on her hips again.

“I’m so glad,” she said sarcastically and walked back over to her suitcase. She carefully moved the picture of Batman—of Breanna—to the other side and continued to take out her things for the gala.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…I’m not used to having friends and with this secret I—”

Lois interrupted her.

“It hasn’t been easy making any, I imagine. Not without feeling like you’re lying to them the entire time.”

Breanna nodded and Lois stopped, her hands full of red material.

“The world needs its heroes, and some cities more than most. Gotham wouldn’t know what to do with Superman just like you wouldn’t know what to do with Metropolis. I hope this crusade of yours works out in the end. Gotham could use a little more light.”

Breanna swallowed and nodded. Lois closed her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath.

“For heaven’s sake, Breanna, look at us. You’re a vigilante, a superhero, at the age of 23 and I’m just a journalist for a newspaper at 26.”

Breanna moved to lean against the edge of her bed, smiling again.

“I wouldn’t say just a journalist. You do have a Pulitzer to your name after all.”

Lois grinned, her blue eyes sparkling and the tension that had been present gone from the room.

“I do, don’t I?”

Bre nodded.

“That’s more than Clark can say.”

Lois laughed and they began to get ready.

[writingwithadinosaur]

“From Something to Nothing to Something” - Part 5

“From Something to Nothing to Something” - Part 5

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Alfred Pennyworth x Reader

Word Count: 1,837

Key: Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Nothing that I can see! Let me know if I missed anything! 

Summary: After an apartment robbery changes your life, you find out how lucky you are.

Author’s Note: I know Alfred isn’t a high demand character, but I loved his arch and how they portrayed him in the show. I hope you enjoy it!

This is not beta-read, so let me know if there are any huge mistakes.

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you for lunch, Alfred. It was delicious.” Bruce gently put down his fork and placed his napkin on the table. Alfred had gotten up to grab himself a glass of water.

“Glad you enjoyed it, Master B,” he said over his shoulder.

“I think I’m going to go work in the study for a bit.” Bruce stood up to leave. You gave a gentle wave as you chewed the last bite of your lunch. Alfred walked Bruce to the threshold of the kitchen. 

“Alright, let me know if you need help.” Bruce smiled in return.

Alfred watched to make sure Bruce was safe until he was out of sight. He turned around to start to gather the dishes from the table, but then saw you had already swooped in and started to clean them all at the sink. You felt his eyes on you as you scrubbed one of the pans.

“Isn’t the old rule: ‘You cook, I clean?’ Or are you going to be you and help in some way even though I can handle some dishes by myself?” 

You glanced at Alfred to see him let out a tiny huff, muttering a small “you cheeky little..” just loud enough for you to hear, before grabbing the towel that was on your shoulder and settling at the counter next to you. He began drying one of the plates that you had already cleaned, putting it away in its proper place before reaching for the next one that you hand him.

There was a comfortable air around the two of you. No words were needed. A calming few minutes of cleaning and listening to the music in the background, the occasional humming along coming from the both of you. 

While you were more okay than earlier, there was still a sadness in you when you started to think about your situation again. You want to do something. Even just being able to sketch, organize, or do something creative while waiting to hear back from potential employers would be a gold star in your book. 

But it was getting more and more difficult to do basics without help from Bruce or Alfred. It took Alfred checking in on you to get out of bed today. What if it keeps getting worse?

As Alfred put away the last of the dishes and you dried your hands, Frank Sinatra’s “I’ve Got You Under my Skin” started playing through the speakers. Alfred could see by the hint of a frown on your face and your slightly vacant eyes that didn’t seem to be focusing on anything in particular, that something was bothering you. 

He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he turned to you and simply held out his hand, determined that he could help make you smile, even for a little bit.

“What’s up, Alfie?” 

You look him up and down, trying to figure out what he was asking for. He just held out his hand a little closer to you. You warily gave him one of your hands. As soon as he had a solid and warm hold of you, he gently pulled you close and started to lead you into a simple dance around the kitchen. 

The two of you giggling like teenagers as you swayed and followed his lead throughout the entire song. When the song came to its close, Alfred lightly twirled you around and pulled you close, your hands ending on his chest and his on your waist. You both stood there for a moment, taking it all in before you spoke. A small but true smile was on your face, and it lit up Alfred’s heart more than he thought possible after the last few minutes of dancing.

“Who knew that Alfie had some moves in him?” You chuckled out earning a light laugh and good smile from Alfred. 

“Guess I never had anyone to dance with before.” You could see the truth and something else in his eyes as they quickly flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes. You felt your heart pounding out of your chest, aching to just lean in and kiss him; let all of your feelings out, unsure if he felt the same. 

Before either of you could make any sort of move, Bruce’s voice rang through the hall. 

“Alfred, could you come here? I need your opinion on something.”

  You couldn’t help but jump a bit at Bruce’s unexpected voice. Alfred instinctually grabbed you a bit tighter and gave you a very quick look over to make sure that you were okay before closing his eyes and letting out a small exhale in slight annoyance. 

“Yeah, alright. I’ll be there in a moment.” He called back. He then looked at you and slowly took his hands from your waist. “Well, I better.. Um…” 

“Yeah, you..” You gently pat his vest in an attempt to smooth it out and break the palpable tension in the air between you. “You go help him. I think I uh… I’m gonna maybe make some more tea and try to get some writing done.” You step back and start to put another kettle on, even though your heart wanted you to step forward and not let go of him. Alfred gave you a small smile and started to walk towards the study, but then stopped at the threshold.

“You could bring your notepad into the study.” You turn to face him, he was looking down slightly before his gaze found yours. “A change in scenery might be helpful for clearing your head some.” He stopped, thinking he had said something wrong. “But if you would rather not, then that is fine.”

“I actually think that would be lovely. Thank you, Alfie.” You smile and his heart jumps. You both turn to tend to your respective actions, unknowing that the other is smiling big and true smiles.

After letting your tea steep, you gathered your notebook and a couple of your favorite pens and made your way to the study. You could hear Bruce and Alfred talking. The words “enterprises,” “arts,” and “plans” caught your ears as you got closer. 

You knocked on the door before entering, not knowing if you should be in the room when they are talking business. Bruce and Alfred look up from the large desk that was covered with stacks of folders with the Wayne Enterprises logo on the cover.

“Hey. Alfred had the idea that maybe I could try to work here with you guys. But if you’re working on stuff that is hush hush then I can set up somewhere else.”

“You can work in here. The couch is all yours!” Bruce smiled, happy that you were trying to be productive and not isolate yourself. You quietly thanked him and settled on one of the couches that sat perpendicular to the fireplace. There was no fire going since it was too warm, but the aesthetic of the piece was comforting. 

You had been there scribbling out your thoughts and ideas for the last 30 minutes, overhearing some of what Bruce and Alfred were talking about. It was mostly stuff relating to Thomas and Martha’s foundations. Thomas’s was focused on medicine while Martha’s was on the arts. You knew a lot about each of them thanks to growing up with the Waynes.

“The new clinic on the east side is set to open on schedule. So we don’t have to worry about that.” Bruce moved a folder from one side of the desk to the other, then looking at the next folder in their dwindling stack. “This is one that I’m not sure what to do.”

Alfred opened the file and quickly skimmed the contents, a slight furrow in his brow forming as he was trying to come up with ideas for whatever problem was in that folder. 

“Well, we could see if a district-wide renovation is feasible. Theatres like the Geniol, Atlin, and the Ipeta have already been requesting donations from their patrons for repairs throughout their respective spaces.”

“The Atlin is still standing?” You spoke aloud and then instantly felt bad for interrupting. Looking up at the two, you began to apologize. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to--”

“No! It’s alright, (Y/N).” Bruce tried to smile and reassure you. “Yes, pretty much all of the theatre district is still standing. Granted, they’re barely standing, but they’re still there.” Bruce spoke while Alfred still read through the notes.

“Really? When I moved back here and applied for jobs in that area, everything looked deserted. It was like a creepy abandoned carnival.”

Bruce just nodded in acknowledgment as Alfred passed him the folder, still looking over Bruce’s shoulder to try to figure out a solution to whatever problem they were on. Seeing that your end of the conversation was over, you went back to getting your ideas out. 

The boys were nearing the end of their pile about 45 minutes later. Your writing ended up turning into a journaling session, which actually made you feel good. Getting everything out with no judgment was nice. 

Alfred looked over and saw you deep in thought, but not in a bad way. Watching you, an idea popped into his head and slowly started snowballing until he finally spoke up. You were so into your journaling that you didn’t hear the conversation near you.

“What do you think about Mr. Jeffin’s request?” Alfred asked Bruce, pointing to that bullet point in Bruce’s notes even though the boy didn’t look up from the folder he was reading into.

“For an assistant?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’ve considered it. With the arts foundation growing as much as we think it will, it could be a smart move.”

“I agree. Having another mind on the management team could help avoid any future problems.”

“I’ll ask Mrs. Shans if she could set up an ad to put in the papers soon.” Bruce closed his folder, picked up a pen, and started writing this new task in his notebook. Alfred put a hand on the notebook to get Bruce to look up at him.

“You know, Miss (Y/N) does have a background in the arts. You know her work ethic, how adaptable, and how loyal she is. Why not set up a meeting with her and Mr. Jeffins?” 

You were trying to think of a word to describe what you were thinking when you realized that it had gotten quiet. You peek your head up, worried that you had zoned out so much that you didn’t hear Alfred or Bruce leave. Instead, you find them looking at you, something indiscernible in Alfred’s eye. Your head tilted just slightly as you sat up and faced them more.

“You guys okay?” Bruce walked over and sat down next to you on the couch as you closed your notepad. You couldn’t help the slight fear that crept into your heart while thinking of the worst-case scenarios.

“How would you feel about a job with Wayne Enterprises?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

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