#AT LEAST THEIR SUITS ARE PRACTICAL SELINA... YOURS IS LESS SO

[out-of-context-batfam]

Batman Inc. (2011) #1

#ITS ALWAYS NICE TO SEE PEOPLE PUTTING AN EFFORT INTO THEIR WORK #AT LEAST THEIR SUITS ARE PRACTICAL SELINA... YOURS IS LESS SO #BRUCE IS LIKELY ROLLING HIS EYES AT SELINAS COMPLIMENTS TO THE BAD GUYS #PEOPLE SHOULD TAKE PRIDE IN WHAT THEY DO #dc comics #batfam #batfamily #out of context #Batman inc #batman #bruce wayne #catwoman #Selina Kyle #funny #dammit bruce #batcat #complimenting the bad guys #they are an amazing couple #bruce is so done

[kyberphilosopher]

Hiss

[Part ii. of Bite] Jason’s been resurrected, only to find he’s been replaced as Robin. Luckily, an old enemy of the Batman has the attributes to help. Word Count: 6465

Warning[s]: guns, crime, language, crude humor, Mitski, non vegetarian reader, age gap, glorified taskmaster ally. Following part i the readers official gender is not disclosed. 

“Uh, Jason? We might wanna let god fix it, because if we fix it, we’re going to jail.”

☈ - ✮ ✭ ✮

Six months. That’s how long it took for Jason to die. Six. Whole. Months. In an abandoned warehouse, in some foreign country that he couldn’t even remember. He’d been fifteen, small for his age but fifteen nonetheless, when that clown had beat him. And what had Batman done? Nothing. He’d let him sit in that warehouse, in that foreign country, with that clown at age fifteen- for six months. And he had done nothing.

Not that it really matters now. It had, at one point, to Jason. He’s in denial that it still does. But to Batman? Oh, it never mattered at all. How long had it taken Bruce to replace his son? A week? A month? No, it had been six months. Barely. And the clown? He was safe and sound, very much alive and loose as he usually was. Batman had put him in Arkham, after a while, but of course it hadn’t lasted for very long. Jason’s death? That was permanent. At least until there was a new and improved and very much replaced Jason running with Batman, six months later. That was permanent too.

So one can imagine the confusion you felt when you opened the door to find a very much alive ex-Robin on your apartment doorstep. 

201 Arkham Street, apartment 317 Gotham City, Gotham County, New Jersey

That’s the address given to him by the Riddler. Putting him in Arkham seemed to be one thing that the Batman had got done during Jason’s little time away. Clearly it had ended up well enough for at least one person. Jason hadn’t even needed to threaten the Riddler out of riddling. In less than ten minutes, Edward Nygma had revealed the Mockingbird’s address, who they like and don’t like, what their suit was made of, and finally their name. Batman had always assumed Riddler and Mockingbird were best friends, birds of a feather with all the times the they’d seemed to make some kind of appearance by the others side. Some friend Riddler was now. 

Jason had snuck into the Batcave recently, and while going through files, decided to take a glimpse into Mockingbird’s just for the sake of curiosity. He wasn’t expecting much. When he was fifteen, it had been near empty. But sure enough, the file had been expanded upon relatively greatly in the past- what? Four years? That sounded right. But one thing that hadn’t changed was your seemingly long standing friendship with Edward Nygma, the Riddler. Still, so much for it. 

Batman had seemingly made a note of allies of theirs, then crossed out multiple names. Poison Ivy, Bane, Deadshot- and yes- the Riddler, stayed. Scarecrow, Black Mask, and Catwoman were all shockingly crossed out. Jason hadn’t expected the last one. Below the allies were the list of crimes. That had changed too. They’d gotten more violent towards the end of the list, straying away from the Mockingbird that the ex-Robin had known. Mockingbird had picked a fight with Dick’s Nightwing enough times for Batman to make a note of too. Before Jason could get to the new pictures of Mockingbird, he quickly closed the file. Didn’t need to see anymore. 

So based on what he had gathered, you should’ve looked different. He’d memorized your face when he was fifteen. Was expecting it to have changed compared to then. But when you open the door and Jason’s face to face with you, Mockingbird, it’s like the first time. Only your eyebrows have gotten slightly darker, and your eyes have rung with dark circles. 

✮ ✭ ✮

The same can’t be said for Jason Todd, however, who you let into your apartment rather quickly. 

You’d done your research on him, too, but only after you’d heard about his death. A death which was confirmed. After locking the door and beginning to turn around, he answers the question before you can ask. 

“Superboy and Lazarus Pits.”

“Ah,” you respond, crossing your arms. The man stands tall in your living room, though it’s not forced. You’ve got no idea what a Lazarus Pit is, but it seems to have changed the Robin you knew before. He was scrawny before. He puffed his chest out before. He had something to prove before. Now his broad shoulders make him look bigger naturally. He could reach up and touch your ceiling with no effort. His face and jaw are masculine and strong, eyes bright green and blue and cyan like you remember. That’s how you know it’s Jason Todd.

“It’s because of the power struggle, isn’t it?” says Harley beside you as you both look over the side of the roof, her flat on her belly and you crouched on the ledge in watch. 

“Hm?” you’d tossed back through your voice changer, not even looking away from the busy street below. 

“Jay killed the Robin,” Harley chirps. “You know- Batman’s little boyfriend? In the shorts and the tights with the flips and the kicks? Oh, that kid went bing, bang, boom. Jay’s been real pumped about it.”

This had made you turn to Harley Quinn. You looked at her over your shoulder, still in position. Though you hadn’t thought about it at the time, it was a good thing she couldn’t see through your mask right about now. 

“The kid?” you say at last. 

“Yeah! Jason Todd! Ya’ know him?”

Harley doesn’t look at you, bubbly as ever in her own world. But you watch her for a moment. Then you turn back around to the direction of the street. “No.”

“Well I’m sayin I bet that’s why there’s so much crime goin’ on now. Old Batty’s got it...”

“I heard,” you tell Jason, before he can go into further detail. He nods once in understanding, in line with a breath, and then looks around the room. Your apartment is small, seemingly in decay, and looks like a shithole. Just like the rest of the building. 

“Mockingbird, I presume,” he offers finally. “Y/N L/N was it?”

You nod once, holding your gaze at the ground in thought before taking a step toward your kitchen. It’s close by to the living room. So close, in fact, that your island counter practically touches the back of your couch. “Robin,” you greet in turn. 

“My name’s Ja-”

“I know what your name is.”

Just then a sprinkle of dust falls from your ceiling, mixing with dirt and shit and pollen. “Nice place,” Jason condescends. 

“I’m sorry,” you put your hands on your counter as you lean in to look at him. “Weren’t you under the ground not too long ago?”

“Weren’t you in jail not too long ago?”

“I never went to jail.”

“But your buddy Ed did didn’t he?”

Your eyebrows crease, and Jason notices you lean forward a fraction of an inch more. He got to you. “How do you know about Edward?”

Jason Todd gives a small smile. His right hand reaches up until it’s poking the side of his head a few times. “Bat knowledge.”

You frown tightly. “Don’t do that. I didn’t like that.”

“You like beating up Dick Grayson?”

You shift. “Yeah. I did.”

“And Catwoman? Huh?”

“Yeah,” you say a little louder. “I did. What wonder boy? You wanna see the scar to prove it?”

“Okay,” Jason huffs. He closes his eyes, his jaw clenching, and then he speaks softer to control himself. “Okay. I’m not Boy Wonder anymore, or wonder boy. Don’t call me that.”

You look him up and down. His eyes, his jaw, his brows. The Robin you knew those years ago. He’d been beaten and blown up. He must’ve cried for help. 

“Okay,” you say, equally as soft. “But just for the record, I haven’t been the Mockingbird for years. Can’t really call me that either.”

“Why not?” Jason Todd questions, turning around so his back faces you while he observes your apartment. You can see his muscles through his shirt. 

Because you were just a kid. Because I liked you. Because you didn’t deserve it. Because Batman didn’t help. Because you were replaced. Because most of my friends laughed it off. Because I couldn’t go after Joker myself. Because I got angry. 

“Just grew out of it,” you shrug instead, turning around. You open your dirty fridge and pull out a bottle of lemonade and two glasses. “What are you doing here, Jason?” you say as you pour the drink, your back now turned to him. 

“I need your help.”

“Whatever with?”

“I’m thinking of getting a little...” Jason’s voice goes low into something like a masculine purr, “...revenge on Batman.”

“You came back from the dead,” you turn around with two glasses of lemonade, “to get revenge on the Batman? That’s your great plan?”

“No,” Jason says simply. He’s since turned around so he’s facing you. “Screwing with the Batman is just a piece of the fun. He’s nothing.”

Jason accepts the glass that you hand to him. You sit down on your couch in front of his figure. That simple motion is enough to bring out some more dust from your walls. “So what’s the revenge?” you take a sip of the sweet, gritty liquid. It coats your teeth strangely in seconds. 

“New Robin. Ever heard of Tim Drake?”

You stop your sip, looking up at the big, broad Jason. You can already tell where this is going. “Uh, Jason? We might wanna let god fix it, because if we fix it, we’re going to jail.”

His brows shoot up. “You hit me in the face with a pipe.”

“I didn’t hit you. You walked into my swing. But you wanna go after the kid, Jason? Really?”

“Yeah.” He crosses his arms so his forearms flex. 

“Tim Drake?”

“Yeah.”

You roll your eyes in thought. On one hand, you hadn’t been Mockingbird for years. You stopped when you were eighteen, and you’re twenty one now. Not that it’s helped you very much. You’re still struggling in a shithole, broke and unhappy and no longer able to afford school. And Tim Drake hasn’t really done anything wrong. But on the other hand, Batman is a dick, and you really stopped liking him after what happened to the former Robin. You’d wanted to go after him and the Joker for it, but you’re not far enough in the Gotham food chain for that. Trading swings with Selina was as close as you got. 

“Alright.” You stand. You’re not even close to Jason’s height. “Lay out the deal. You got a suit?”

✮ ✭ ✮

And that’s how you and Jason Todd ended up on a roof that night. You, at the crisp age of twenty one, and he at what you suppose is his version of nineteen. Still working on wrapping your head around that one. 

You’ve pulled out your Mockingbird suit from under the bed. It was a bit dusty, but not hard to slip into. Everything seems in place. It’s just old. Your voice scrambler is still working okay and all the eyes light up efficiently. Jason’s got a suit too. 

“I don’t,” Jason answers, his face suspicious. His eyes are twinkling as he looks down at you. It’s so hard to believe he’s just a boy- or was, last you saw him. 

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “I got you.”

You lead Jason to your room, into your closet, and into a space even farther back where an illuminated glass case the size of several yard sticks stands. It must cost more than your whole apartment. Inside of it is a metal suit like a military uniform, similar to Bruce’s Batsuit but with an Arkham emblem over the chest. 

“Call it the Arkham Knight. You like it?”

“Where did you get this?” Jason steps forward, raking his eyes up and down the design. Bruce would hate it. 

“I stole it from the Batcave.”

“The whole display case?” Jason snaps to you. Then his brows shoot up and he takes a step closer. “How do you know where the Batcave is?”

“How did you know where my apartment is? And yes, I took the whole case. It was just sitting there.”

Jason turns back around to the suit. It’s growing on him. He admires it. It’s perfect. The Arkham symbol will put the Batman into a state of despair. “Hard to believe you and Selina aren’t friends anymore.”

“We never were,” you mutter back. It’s really not his business that you ended so many partnerships because of his death.

“You’re sure this is the place?” you question. It sends Jason into a state of euphoria, hearing the distorted villainy of your voice again. It feels like the first time too, just like when he saw your face again. It feels how it did when he was fifteen and infatuated with the Mockingbird. It’s almost dizzying. It’s just strange to hear it knowing that now you’re on the same side. 

“Yeah,” he answers through his helmet. His voice is distorted too. “This is the place.”

You’re overlooking a Gotham street at night, something you’ve both discovered vigilantes, heroes, and villains do a lot of. Smoke fills the air along with police sirens and building lights. You’re positioned in one of the outer districts though, away from most of the commotion. 

“I can’t remember the last time I was here,” you say, half to yourself. 

“I can,” Jason says back. “When I ran with Batman. Last year. I was fifteen.” Jason's voice drops. “Or was I...”

You frown behind your own mask. Of course. Jason died four years ago, and he was fifteen when that happened. He came back- you’re not sure when- older and stronger and behind on the changes of the world. He must not know about social media, or the latest television crazes, or the new roads in Gotham. It makes you sad. 

All Jason sees when he meets your eyes through his visor is several red slanted lines. You’re both unreadable through your helmets. 

“There’s a good restaurant down on this corner,” you both turn back to the street, crouching in wait. “Maybe B-Man likes it.”

“He never eats,” says the ex-Robin. “Never sleeps. Never does anything.”

“You know he broke my buddy Scarecrow’s bones last Halloween?” you scoff. “Literally for not knowing where Black Mask is. Your old boss is weird as hell.”

Jason cocks an eyebrow you can’t see. “Thought you weren’t friends with Scarecrow anymore?”

“Anymore? B-Man keeping tabs on me?”

“He keeps tabs on everyone,” Jason shakes his head. “You’re just a file.”

“Hm,” he hears you say. Contemplate, more like. You speak again after a moment of silence. “Well Scarecrow and me are fine, thank you for asking.”

Jason scoffs. “He your boyfriend or something?”

“My boyfriend’s over in Metropolis.”

Oh. 

“How’s your girl?” Your head snaps to Jason at once, hands twitching around. “Or guy.”

He tosses a look to you that you can’t see, but you can guess at. Somewhere between ‘what the hell’ and ‘why the hell’ and an eye roll with furrowed brows. 

“Come on. Rose Wilson seems your type. Ooh, Artemis?” You suddenly nudge his arm with your elbow. “Batgirl? Is it Dick?”

Another look is thrown your way. This time it feels more angry. “Whatever, Robin,” you offer lightly. 

It dawns on you that perhaps Jason has never had a partner before. That seems more likely, especially after thinking about his situation, and suddenly you feel bad. It’s too late to vocalize an apology now though.

“Fine,” you say at last. “Let’s just stop talking.”

“Let’s do.”

✮ ✭ ✮

It starts raining not long after that. 

The drops bounce off your suits harmlessly. There’s still no sign of this Tim Drake and Batman. 

“Hey,” you break the silence. “Has anyone ever told you you look exactly like a statue?”

“Must be a resurrection thing.”

“Yep.”

The rain falls harsher.

“So,” Jason begins. “I have to ask. How do you do the- the…” he spins his pointer fingers around rapidly.

“What the fuck are you doing? What is that? No- what is that right there?”

“The thing that you do.”

“I’ve never done that in my life, Jason. What is that? Finger jiu jitsu?”

You hear Jason suck in a breath as he turns away. “You think you’re so funny.”

“You asked me for help. And between the two of us- who has died here? Not me. I’m hilarious.”

“Oh,” he scoffs. “So hilarious.”

“You seemed to think so. When…” your voice trails off. You almost wanted to mention that night in the warehouse to him. A memory of him looking up at you, his hands bound behind his back as he stares in wonder flashes in your mind. But it doesn’t linger for long. Movement in the street catches your eye. “Jason.”

Both your heads snap down to the place below. Sure enough, after a few seconds, a figure steps into view of the moonlight. A skinny kid with dark hair and a bright red and yellow costume. He looks younger than Dick or Jason.

“That’s him,” your partner says. He reaches behind his back and pulls out a long rod. It unfolds with a click that you recognize- the click of a gun.

“What?” you furrow your brows. “Woah- what?”

“I’m gonna shoot him,” Jason tells you casually, fiddling around with the weapon. It’s coming into shape more and more as a sniper rifle.

“That is a child,” you whisper hiss. “He’s like ten!”

“I don’t think he’s ten,” Jason puts his eye over the scope. “This is revenge.”

“Please, do not shoot a child for replacing you in your job of tightie whities vigilante.”

Jason huffs through his mask and looks over at you. “What did you think this was, bird?”

“I thought we were just like, gonna kick him in the balls or something! This is exactly what I meant by ‘we are going to jail’! I told you we should’ve let god fix it!”

“He’ll be fine.”

You knock the rifle out of the Arkham Knights hands with a bang. It clambers across the roof top until it’s nearly over the edge, half on half off.

Jason and you go down at once, shoulder to shoulder in a tackle. Thunder booms overhead. Through his visor, Jason sees you raise a white, gauntleted fist back in a punch, aimed right for his face. Luckily, he manages to catch you by the torso and neck and throw you off.

When he pushes himself to his knee and foot in a kneel, he looks up to find an exact replica of himself. Not literally, of course, but looking at you is like looking into a mirror. Your hand is placed on the rooftop the same way his is. Your knees are bent at the exact same angle as his own. When Jason cocks his head to the side slowly, yours follows him at the same time. So this is what it means to fight the Mockingbird.

He decides to reach for the gun at the side of his leg. He manages to fire once- and miss- a bang going off that he’ll be lucky Drake doesn’t hear over the storm. You knock the gun out of his hands easily, dodging a punch to the stomach before countering with one of your own to his face. It hits the exact same way Jason’s do. He sees your knuckles coming closer to him and almost thinks they’re his own.

Next idea is toss you off the building. Key word: you. Not him.

Jason grips the back of your head through your hood, reaching around. He carries you with him while he stands, tensing his abs as he feels you hammer your elbow away at them. It’s the knee to his crotch that makes him let go and let out a strangled groan.

But before anything else can happen, you spring forward at him in a pounce. Your palms latch onto his shoulders. His feet disconnect from the surface of the roof and the both of you go backwards until neither one of you are on the building at all, over the side.

Jason gets tangled in the emergency stair well. His metal suit clangs against it as he falls and tumbles down, either causing or saving some head injuries. You hit your back on an old street light before landing in a trash bin.

This is it, you manage to think to yourself. Lying in a garbage bin in Gotham at night. And in the rain. This is rock bottom.

I am going to kill everyone on the block for this, thinks Jason.

✮ ✭ ✮

You do eventually get up and remove yourself from the garbage bin. Jason sits at the bottom of the stairs, watching you. You do not exchange words. He does, however, follow you down the street as you essentially stomp.

“Ma’am,” he offers quietly to a gawking older woman.

You enter a small restaurant. More of a diner, really. The door jingles as it opens, and Jason watches you walk to the side until you find a table by the window. You sit down with a huff, tapping one of your helmets red eyes. He shuffles into the space ahead of you, nearly skirting the table across the floor with the bulk of his own muscle and suit. He can feel your judgy eyes on him as he clambers into the seat like a large, run down father.

“Hi there,” a chirpy waitress bounds. She’s a large, redheaded woman in a bright yellow uniform and a hat with a spring connected to a plastic burger on top. It is ridiculous, funny, and you are sadly not in the mood. “My, aren’t you two some interesting looking people! We don’t get a lot of men of metal around here!”

You both look at her silently, masks on but hatred seeping through boredly.

“What can I get you tonight?”

“A gun,” you drawl tiredly, rubbing your palms over your mask.

“We’re not sellin’ those right now, my dear. Something else?”

“Two cheeseburgers would be fine,” Jason speaks up for you.

“Two burgers,” the waitress repeats with a smile, writing it down in her burger notepad. Her cheeks are rosy as she beams happily. “And should I be expecting Superman?”

“Die,” you snap to her, watching her hurry off to the kitchen. Then you put your head down in your folded arms on the table.

Jason glanced around. It’s empty except for the two of you and some dumpy guy in a trucker hat with wide eyes. “What’re you staring at?” Jason all but barks. Normally, he tries to make himself as unnoticeable as possible in public. Not very confident or secure, it seems. But now he’s tired. He just fell down about a million floors worth of metal stairs. It’s late and he lost two of his guns.

“What?” you raise your head, also looking at the trucker hat man. “You’ve never seen two people in superhero suits before?”

“Beat it,” Jason orders.

The man is quick to stand and speed walk away. Still you egg on, “get out of here, bozo!”

“What a fuckin’ prick,” Jason grumbles as he watches the man trip down the street through his view from the window, the door still ringing to signal it’s been opened.

“Yeah,” you agree tiredly.

Your nimble fingers reach up and back to push your white hood from your head. Then they click against the sides of your face and pull the helmet away, revealing your face. You inhale as if you couldn’t get enough air before. Jason watches you, still as a statue, his visor giving him the luxury of being able to monitor your breathing.

“Now what?” you gripe, rubbing your eyes. It can’t be comfortable with all the armor on your hands, but you don’t seem bothered. You must’ve gotten used to it by now.

The Arkham Knight ahead of you only cocks his head to the side slightly. Silent with his helmet. “I’ll help you punch Tim but that’s as far as I’ll go.”

“Why are you defending this kid?” you hear Jason breathe in return. For a split second, electricity runs through you at the sound of his distorted voice, the way his body looks in his suit of armor and how unreadable he is through the helmet. It shocks you all the the way down to your crotch.

“You know,” you begin, eyes widening and voice quieting with a sudden nervousness. “He’s just a kid. Younger than you were.”

Jason scoffs and turns his head away from you, now looking out the window. Gotham is dark and damp outside. “Bullshit,” he scoffs. Then after a few seconds and continues. “Tim Drake and I are the same age.” His head pulls back slightly, fingers giving a strange, sudden twitch. “Or were. We’re-”

You’ll never know what Tim Drake and Jason Todd were. Jason never finishes his sentence, and only his suit flashes with little codes and details to let you know he’s still alive in there. Besides that, he’s as still, lost in sudden thought. You frown and lean in a bit, tapping your elbow with your fingers while you shift uncomfortably. “You’re nineteen, Jason.”

His head twitches again. Now you know he’s heard you. “I’m two years older than you,” you reason. “You’re nineteen.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Why did you let me go?”

Your eyebrows scrunch and unscrunch. Another wave of electricity shocks down your body, but this time it’s because his voice sounded more like his own. You could hear it under the layers of metal and distortion. But option one is to respond to his question by pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about. That seems like it’s for the best.

“You were just a kid,” you tell him honestly. He silently presses you on. “And I just- I looked at you and I…” I really liked you, kid. Best night I had in years. Made me smile. God, you had to stop working with so many other Gotham city villains just for making jokes about the kid. “You were fifteen,” you say, looking away. “Just a kid.”

Jason watches you. Again, your head turns so you look out the window. He would’ve expected that to be the end of it, but you continue. “Why didn’t you turn me in?”

Jason’s about to pretend to not know what you’re talking about, because it seems like it’s for the best that way. But then he remembers you can’t see anything through his helmet. “What’re you talking about?” he gruffs.

“You saw my face in that warehouse,” you press. “If you had told Batman, I would’ve been to jail. Maybe Arkham. But that never happened. So why didn’t you tell him?”

I was obsessed with you, Jason’s mind screams. In love with you! It hisses, which makes Jason cringe. “Guess you were a kid too.” That’s right. You were seventeen back then. What is that? Last year of high school? You balanced a criminal career and the required education for a minor at the same time. Where were your parents during this?

Jason bites down on his lip hard. Parents. Should shut up about that, probably.

“I’m uh,” you bite your lip and then lick it. “I’m sorry for pushing you. On the roof.”

He shifts. “It’s nothing.”

You turn back to the window. Your arms uncross from atop the table and go to rest in your lap. This close and this still, Jason can make out all the details in your suit. It’s impressive. Kevlar and rubber and plastic, the Riddler had told him. Not the gloves. That’s metal and plastic. 

“So,” Jason decides. “How do you that?” Your brows crease in confusion. He tries to do the finger motions he’d down before, which makes you cringe. “The mirroring. And the fighting and the…” he goes through the motions again. “It in your helmet?”

Your confusion sinks away. A new expression washes over your face as you lean in. One finger reaches up, poking your temple and you smile softly. “Bat knowledge.”

Just then, the waitress saves the day. “Two cheeseburgers for the scary suit people!” she beams, setting the plates down. For a second, her breasts are pressed into each of your faces. Jason first, who does not move and you can’t see under the helmet. You bite back a snicker but instead seep a childish look. Then you’re next, and you can feel Jason’s silent laugh under his Arkham Knight suit as your eyes go wide. “Enjoy, dears!”

“Boobs,” you shiver. “Just got boobs in my face.” And then Jason watches you carefully pick up the burger in your dangerous gloves, and take a bite.

Indeed, for the first time that night, the man in front of you reaches up and pulls off his own helmet with a click. You watch it be taken into his large, veiny hands and passed to the edge of the table, against the wall of the window. Then your eyes wander up to his face, which makes you chew slower.

A strong face. Sharp jaw, perfectly in line nose. Lips always pulled into a scowl. Bright eyes with tired circles and scars across his skin. There’s a streak of white in his dark hair you hadn’t noticed at all before, though now it’s practically blaring you in the face. Jason Todd is very handsome. 

“What?” he says behind his burger, raising it to his lips but freezing before he can bite into it.

You shrug and focus again on your burger. You hear Jason bite into his own.

“I don’t have any money,” you tell him after a moment, swallowing down a bite.

“Me neither,” Jason answers. He nudges his head towards the window. “There’s an ATM across the street.” You nod in response.

A few bites in you speak again. The minutes have been filled with the noises of chewing and swallowing and yummy meat and cheese. “You ever heard of Mitski?”

Jason swallows his bite, which are bigger than yours. “What?”

“Mitski,” you repeat. “The singer?” Jason shakes his head. “You seem like you’d like her. My boyfriend hates her.”

Jason’s brows twitch.

“Why aren’t you with him?” he questions, taking another bite.

You roll your eyes. “Too expensive. He’s-”

“But he lives there.”

“He just didn’t offer,” you shrug. “I don’t have the money anyway. It’s fine.”

Jason cocks a brow. Your own boyfriend didn’t offer to get you out of this shithole?

You roll your eyes. “We haven’t talked in a long time okay? He’s busy. I’m busy.”

Both of Jason’s brows raise now, almost playfully. “Busy with what?”

You’d be offended if you weren’t busy trying to answer. What were you busy with? After you graduated, money went dry with university. It became less frequent after retiring from the Mockingbird mantle. Most of your jobs were minimum wage and short lived. You’re a bartender now, but not somewhere that’ll keep you going probably. Most days you sit around the apartment or run errands, sometimes hosting Ivy. Last time she’d been over, she’d given you a plant that had quickly died and spoke about Harley quite a bit. And Riddler obviously doesn’t come over anymore. Scarecrow had once but he’s off doing god only knows now. 

“Shut up,” you hiss. “What are you busy with?”

“Controlling crime in Gotham,” Jason takes a bite.

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Well.”

“You know you didn’t have to ask me to do this,” you say. “You could’ve just asked someone else. There’s a lot of people in Gotham okay with child killing.”

“I wanted you,” Jason explains. He’s quick to speak again to keep you from thinking about his words. “You were the first person I thought of.”

You’re nearing the end of your burger. “How did you find me?”

Jason shrugs mid-chew. He’s almost done as well. “Riddler.”

“Gave me away that easy?”

“Yep.”

You chew your last bite. It was a good and hearty burger, the cheese melting perfectly against the patty and your tongue.

“You want anything else?” Jason asks.

You watch the street outside, eyes squinting on the ATM. “Jason,” you mutter. “Jason.”

✮ ✭ ✮

Three men snicker as they load up dark blue duffel bags. They’re slimey and smelly, like an old sewer. Money falls from the machine like a waterfall.

Their success doesn’t last long.

One of them comes in contact with the Mockingbird’s elbow and slams his head into a brick building. The other two are just inexplicably on the ground, incapacitated while the Arkham Knight stands overhead.

“Fuck,” you breathe through your helmet. “I missed this.”

Jason’s just picked up the duffel bag when the sudden sound of sirens blare through the air. It’s close. Too close.

“Well that’s no good,” you mutter. You turn to Jason, taking a sharp step forward. “Give it to me.”

His brows furrow under the mask.

“I’ll pay the waitress,” you say. “You run.”

Jason reaches behind his belt and shifts the weight of the bag into one hand. A gun appears- a small handgun. You duck down as he raises it at you, holding your head down as the BANG! rings through the air.

You stand back to your feet, bracing yourself at the sudden sight. The Arkham Knight charges you, but only to pick you up like you’re nothing and jump through the glass window he previously shot at. The adrenaline makes things hazy, but you can see the blue and red lights now. It doesn’t matter. The two of you fly across what turns out to be a pawn shop, burst through the back door and back room until you hit the cold outside air of Gotham again. Multiple doors slam shut behind you. You’re both out of breath and panting, and it’s raining again. This time in an alleyway.

But the cops won’t follow you out here.

It’s quiet besides the panting from you two. Jason has more endurance, you’re sure, but you can hear his breathing inside his helmet. He lets the duffel bag slip out of his grasp as you double over. “I did miss that,” you offer. “Running from the police.” The Arkham Knight just continues his breathing.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

✮ ✭ ✮

Two days after the incident, you enter your apartment lazily. Your keys are tossed onto the island counter before you wander through your mail. One of your letters is from Ed in Arkham, warning you about “some big guy asking about you”. A bit late for that now. You haven’t heard from Jason since that night.

It isn’t until you go to sit on your couch that you notice a large, nearly bursting open envelope. Your fingers stretch to reach it, examining it. No return address, but written in pen in sloppy letters is the word “Bird”. Luckily, it doesn’t feel like a bomb. It feels more soft but firm.

You open the envelope. Your breathing hitches, breath slowing when you see what’s inside. Then a smirk comes over your face.

Just then, dust falls from your shitty apartment ceiling.

✮ ✭ ✮

A week after the failed Tim Drake incident, a young man decides to pay a visit to your building. He is tall and strong, with raven hair laced with a white streak at the front. He frowns at everything, ducking his head to make himself smaller and less noticeable. He cares not for being perceived by other people. He’s well aware of how he looks.

The man’s knuckles tap against apartment 317. He shifts, looking back and forth. The man is quite attractive in is casual red hoodie and jeans, but he wants to be out of the open as soon as he can. After a moment, there is no response from inside.

He scrunches his brows and knocks again. When he takes a step closer, he can hear something from the inside. Music. A piano and drums and maybe an organ?

Jason twists the door knob with ease and steps ahead and inside. The apartment is completely and totally empty. The music becomes louder and more clear. It’s a female singer he doesn’t recognize.

Only the bones of the kitchen remain. Counters, cabinets, a sink, and an old fridge. There’s mold in the corner of the space. But in the middle of the floor where the couch and living room used to be is a cluster of things. Things meant for Jason Todd. 

The man eyes the pile for a few seconds. Then he sets towards it. The first thing he recognizes is a CD player with the volume turned all the way up. He still doesn’t know the song.

Besides the player is a suit he’s quite familiar with. It’s clunky, but folded as neatly as it can be given that it’s made of metal. On the top is the helmet that gives it away. The Arkham Knight suit. It sits on a dark duffel bag in front of a small white piece of paper with the promise of ink inside. Jason decides to open that first.

You’re coming back… and it’s the end of the world…

Haha! I knew you’d show up!

Jason nearly rolls his eyes at the first sentence.

Thanks for the money. I know it was you. Thanks for the fun night too. Sorry about hitting your balls. They felt really big if that makes you feel better.

It didn’t.

I was thinking of Metropolis, but what do you know, me and the boy toy decided it might be better to hold off on it. I got a bit of dirt on the kid by the way. You’ll find it on the back of this paper. Oh and I hope you like the Mitski soundtrack. I bet Drake’s the kind too. I’m going to keep the Mockingbird suit if you don’t mind. I guess our night of fun kinda reignited an old flame. Don’t even think about coming after me.

Son of a bitch, Jason internally screams.

I have a gift for you though. You get the Arkham Knight. You look good in it. And a little something extra in the bag by the way. 

Love, Mockingbird.

I just need a quiet place… where I can scream, how I love you…

Indeed, inside the duffel bag Jason Todd finds some cash and red fabric with an R emblem over the chest. He doesn’t need to pull the rest out to understand what it is. He decides not to question how you got his old Robin suit or when, but lets himself smile a bit, his chest expanding with his breath. It’s a real smile too. 

You’ve given Jason everything he needs to go after Tim Drake himself.

✮ ✭ ✮

I hope I’ve ruined everyone’s day. You think I would let the reader and Jason be happy together? You absolute baffoon. Maybe I’ll make a part three for gits and shiggles though. I’m not sure about this one. Definitely more based around their interactions than the drama unlike the first one. It was fun though. I hit the paragraph limit. I think I did a good job with the chemistry. I do apologize for giving the reader a real set in stone age though. I don’t like to to that because I think it takes away the point of having a ‘reader’. Also if you’re vegetarian please just eat a cheeseburger it’s so good y’all are weird. Oh and fun fact I just got a Red Hood tattoo on Saturday! Look at me go!

Tagging everyone who asked for a part ii: @yunho-leeknow @fyowyn-writes @martianmilfhunter @beardedfandiplomatprofessor

#dc robin x reader #dc jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader #robin x reader #x reader #redhood x reader #red hood x reader #dc redhood x reader #dc red hood x reader #red hood imagine #dc red hood imagine #dc redhood imagine #jason todd imagine #imagine #imagines #jason todd imagines #redhood imagines #dc redhood imagines #dc fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #red hood fanfction #redhood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #red hood angst #red hood fluff #fluff #angst

[dessarious]

What Makes a Family? Pt18

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

“And what price are they going to have to pay for your magic?” Marinette couldn’t help but smile at the protective tone in Bruce’s voice as he glared at Plagg. She was beyond relieved that he seemed to be a good person and even her Guardian instincts were calm around him.

“The Miraculous are all about balance. In our case, as true Chosen, they affect us whether we use them or not. That’s why Cass’ life has been so difficult and mine has been relatively calm. Actually being in possession of Plagg’s ring will make things better for her. As for other holders, it varies. The longer you hold a Miraculous the more it pulls out certain traits in you. Good or bad depends on both the person and how in tune with the Miraculous they are.” Chloe’s over protective nature and Adrien’s possessiveness were both likely side effects of being holders but there was no way for her to know for certain.

“So they begin to turn you into a different person?” Marinette was shaking her head before he was even finished. She really wasn’t good at explaining things to other people.

“No. Any traits that the Miraculous bring out were already there. If anything they bring out a person’s true nature so they can’t hide who they really are. My former partner for instance was always showing his best face to the world around him but Plagg’s influence allowed those looking for it the ability to see some of his less desirable qualities. Especially when transformed.” While it made perfect sense that the ring had brought out the things Adrien felt he had to hide from the world, she still felt guilty. She also had to wonder how different his life would have been if she’d found her real Black Cat sooner. Cass burrowed into her side.

“Not your fault.” Marinette just hugged her twin closer. Even if Fu had picked Adrien, as the current Guardian he had still been her responsibility. She’d let her knowledge of his personal life define how she treated him when she should have simply judged his actions as a hero. It had been reckless and irresponsible. She’d put everyone at risk. She felt a vibration at her side and actually laughed when she realized Cass was purring to calm her down.

“Well if I needed any more proof that you are Plagg’s chosen, the fact that you’re picking up cat traits without even having the ring on you would have done it.” Cass stopped abruptly and buried her head into Marinette’s shoulder with an embarrassed whine. Mari just grinned and kissed her temple to try and soothe her. “At least yours is cute. The first trait I picked up was reflex bleeding.” It was a small consolation that Lila had a rash for over a month after grabbing her.

“Do I want to know what that is?” Marinette offered Bruce a commiserating smile. It was a lot to process.

“My skin secretes a toxic substance when I feel threatened. Sadly enough it’s actually helped in battles before. Poor baby August tried to eat me a few times while Akumatized.” Bruce just blinked at her and Marinette could practically hear him thinking ‘what the fuck?’ She grinned at him. “Once you’ve actually been through an Akuma attack, remind me to show you footage of past battles. It will prove educational and quite possibly entertaining.”

“You expect me to be entertained by one of my children almost being eaten?” He sounded insulted at the suggestion but Marinette rolled her eyes.

“No, but the fact that Hawkmoth tends to Akumatize the worst suited people into villains should. The only reason he’s still around is because he’s a coward. If I could find him all of this would be over in a heartbeat. Hopefully with Cass here my luck will keep shifting for the better.”

“I thought you were the one with good luck.” Mari let out a frustrated breath.

“Technically yes. However having the Miraculous active, especially with the ring being held by someone so much less in tune than I am, has been affecting me. It’s gotten better since I added other permanent holders but certain things haven’t improved at all. Also, the Kwami are of the opinion that Cass and I rubbed off some of our luck on each other in the womb. It’s likely the reason she ended up with you around the same time I first became Ladybug. Being together will allow us to buffer each other.” Bruce was still frowning at her but it seemed more contemplative than anything else.

“Cass.” She watched her sister peek at Bruce from her position. “What do you want to do?” Marinette let out an approving hum at the question. She got a strange sense of satisfaction that he treated Cass with such care even though she wasn’t his. He wasn’t as warm as her parents, but it was obvious he did care.

“Stay. Help.” Bruce let out a sigh but nodded. Cass relaxed further and Marinette could feel contentment radiating off her.

“So Selina said you’re a fashion designer?” Marinette rose an eyebrow at the subject change. “Since there’s nothing more to be done at present about what’s going on in Paris and it doesn’t appear to be an urgent issue, I would like to get to know you and I’m sure Cass does too.” She felt Cass nod.

“Yes, I’m a fashion designer. It was always what I wanted to do, but my actual start was one of the first twists of fate after I got my Miraculous. I ended up designing something for Jagged Stone and everything just sort of took off from there.” Cass stiffened slightly and Marinette saw Bruce’s eye twitch.

“You’re the designer he’s always bragging about?” Marinette felt her face flush. It hadn’t really occurred to her that he would be familiar with Jagged. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “The boys are not going to leave you alone. Dick, Jason, and Tim have a running bet over who can get a commission from you first. I apologize in advance for whatever happens at dinner.” She laughed at his dry tone and caught Cass’ smile out of the corner of her eye.

“I assure you it can’t be worse than Uncle Jagged himself. He introduces me to all my new clients and I swear it gets more embarrassing every time. I’m fairly certain he practices just to annoy me.” Bruce’s mouth twitched into something between a smile and a grimace.

“Do not underestimate the boys’ ability to be annoying or embarrassing. That’s not even counting the fact that Damian is likely to challenge you to a duel in order to prove that he’s meant to be my true heir and I have no idea what weapons he managed to smuggle on the plane.” Marinette rolled her eyes. Why wasn’t she surprised?

“I take it Talia’s teachings are still strong?” He frowned at her. Oh right, he didn’t know she knew. “When she and Ra’s were in Paris she enjoyed bragging about him and his bloodlines. That’s how I figured out you were Batman. But don’t worry, I can handle him.” The skeptical look he shot her just made her grin. “Trust me. Besides, I just have to prove I’m not a threat to him. Given that I have no wish to take over your business and I have my own hero problems to worry about there’s no reason for him to take issue with me.” Bruce still seemed uncertain but Cass signed something at him and he nodded.

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.” While Bruce obviously doubted her, she felt nothing but confidence from her twin. As nervous as she was to meet the others, Damian trying to kill her wasn’t that big a problem. At least with him, she knew what to expect.

AO3   Beginning   Previous    Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@moonystars14 @ladybug-182 @elmokingkong @smolplantmum @jessigurl-design @trippingovermyfeet @its-salty-bug @whydoexamsexist @scorchdragon88 @alenee13 @lil-1254s-blog @sturchling @random-fandoms7 @fandom-writer642 @chylou34 @thewitchwhowaited @junarvion @laurcad123 @hakoirii @aestheticnpoetic @aegyobutpsycho2 @sassakitty @swiftie-miraculer13 @miraculous-simmer7 @peachedpocky @misslenamooney @shamefullove @user00000003 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @galla02006 @thestressmademedoit @toodaloo-kangaroo @trinity-1002107 @alessialeone6997 @i-shizen @necromancerflight @astoriaandromeda @devils-wrath @adrestar

#MLB DC Crossover #marinette dupain cheng #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #bio dad bruce wayne

[watchtower-feed]

What You Want

Anon:  ...Can I request a Bruce x fem!reader smut, with Bruce having been exposed to sex pollen while fighting a villain during one of his night patrols and reader being Bruce's ward who's been harboring a crush on him, and who decided to help him through the patch? Cue to Bruce facing various dilemma but reader is 100% consenting to help him...  Notes: NSFW I think we can all agree that after part 13 we all deserve some smut. This almost had some Jason phone sex. Almost. Words: 2,316

      Bruce can’t get the image of you out of his head. An hour after patrol, he was still in the cave in front of the computer when you walked back in after taking a shower. A towel was lazily pressed against your breast and hang down only to cover half of your body. 

      Your skin was highlighted by the artificial light bouncing off of your still wet body, droplets of water were sliding down your curves agonizingly slowly. But what caught his eyes in an instant was the obvious redness of your face.

      You were breathing through your mouth and he could see your chest rising and falling. Your eyes were half-open, your lashes damp, your lips quivering when your shivering voice calls out to him.

      “Bruce… I think something’s wrong with my body.”

      Batman is now standing in the dead center of Poison Ivy’s greenhouse after having just trashed the place from your last patrol. He had apologized before but now he had come back to ask for a favor.

      “Fix it.” 

      Ivy should have expected less formality and more crass. She already knows why Batman is here.

      “The only way to get rid of it is by having sex with the girl,” she replies bored, tending to her plants. She would’ve thought the greatest detective on Earth would’ve deduced such a thing from the name alone. 

      When she doesn’t hear a reply she suspects that he’s left. But she looks to make sure anyway. Ivy’s surprised to find Batman still there and standing… awkward? She laughs out loud. 

      “What’s wrong? Can’t get it up?”

     Batman walks away from Ivy but takes his time on his way back. When he pulls up in the cave, you’re already waiting for him in his chair, a little calmer, breathing better.

     “You don’t look happy. I’m guessing Ivy didn’t want to help.”

      Bruce tries to avoid your gaze as he moves slowly toward you.

     “How are you feeling?”

     “Just… embarrassed, I guess.” You laugh. “Did she at least say what it was that I inhaled?”

     Bruce purses his lips. As a father figure, he feels he shouldn’t tell you. But as a man constantly in the pursuit of truth, he does. “Sex pollen.”

     You feel the heat rise up to your cheeks coming from the depths of your core. “Wh-what?” you say nervously, trying to mask it with some laughter. “Has Dick or Jason ever been hit with this thing? What did you do?”

     Bruce coughs, visibly uncomfortable. “Not to my knowledge but if they did--” he pauses.

     If they did? They would’ve gotten rid of it on their own…Bruce wouldn’t know.

     An awkward silence stands between you. “Bruce,” you say out loud but your lips are quivering and you can feel the heat traveling to the tips of your fingers. You reach out to try and tug back his cowl.

      But the moment freezes you. Are you willing to risk this step? You may be drugged up on sex pollen but once you make this move, there will be no turning back.

      You take your hand back instead and try to hide your nerves with a chuckle. “I guess I’ll call Dick and ask. Goodnight!”

      You jump up from the chair and swiftly kiss Bruce on the cheek, something you’ve always done, but when you’re pulling back this time, it feels as if time has slowed down, tempting you to take his lips next.

      You clamp your mouth shut and quickly leave the cave, your heart is pounding as you rush through the manor to reach your room. Quickly, you lie in your bed and grab your phone. Your finger hovers over Dick’s number.

      You can’t actually call Dick about something like this. It would be too awkward.

      You dial Jason instead. It only rings twice before he answers.

      “Good evening, my favorite bird.”

      Jason’s teasing voice suddenly riles up your insides and you suddenly can’t think straight again.

      “Sex… pollen.”

      When Jason heard the first word, he didn’t know what to expect. After hearing the whole thing, he almost choked.

      “Give me five minutes to wrap this up. Then I’ll call you ba--”

      Jason doesn’t even finish his own sentence before he hangs up. There was a sense of urgency in his voice and you mentally hit yourself for not thinking that he might be on patrol. Of course, he would be on patrol. Jason never takes a night off.

      When your phone rings, the vibrations it made on your bed reminds you of your current predicament.

      “Are you lying down?” is the first thing Jason says before you could say hello.

      “Y-yess…”

      “Fuck. You’re already shivering. Okay, Y/N. You just gotta do as I say, okay?”

      “Mm.”

      “You gotta touch yourself.” Your eyes widen at his order. “How many hours has it been since you’ve been hit?”

      “I… I don’t know. 3 hours?”

      “Okay. Fairly normal. You still have some control. And I know you’re sexually active so--”

      “Jason!”

      “Don’t worry I don’t judge. Also, you’re not very good at hiding your string of lovers all over Gotham.”

      You close your eyes and bite your lips. This is not how you expected this conversation to go at all. 

      It’s not like you actually had sex with them. You just wanted to forget Bruce. Forget you’re his ward and forget that you’re in love with him. Whenever the touching started, you would always imagine it’s his hands caressing your body and his lips roaming your skin. But the moment you open your eyes, you feel repulsed and you run away.

      “Y/N, you still there?”

      “Ye--… yeah.”

      “Like I was saying you, sex pollen gets worse the longer it stays in your body. It takes away inhibition-- like alcohol-- but these are spores that settle in your system--”

      “Ewwww.” You sit up suddenly because that information is enough to put your inhibitions back up.

      He chuckles, “Right? Anyway, it’s weakness is dopamine. Just flood your body with it and you’ll be all good in no time.”

      “So it doesn’t… necessarily have to be sex?”

      “Nope. When people’s inhibitions are low they resort to their primal instincts and everyone’s most primal one is mating. But from experience...” you wait and when Jason finally speaks again, he’s fake whispering. “A good lay after patrol really takes the edge off.”

      You want to groan and cuss at him but his low voice is only making you wet.

      “Jason… can you… pretend to be Bruce for me?”

      Jason knows about your crush since the first day Batman brought you to the cave. You were shocked and terrified and you would not let go of his cape. It got to the point where Bruce had to lie in bed with you, in his suit, until you fell asleep. Even then, your sleeping form wouldn’t let him go.

      He and Dick thought it was just a phase everyone goes through every time they first encounter the magnitude and safety emitted by Batman’s presence. But the more he watched how you handle yourself around Bruce, as Batman and as himself, the more your infatuation had evolved.

      “It doesn’t have to be him, Y/N. It’s just mastur--”

      “Jason… please.”

      Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. When he first confronted you about your crush and he became your only confidant, he never expected to be put in this kind of situation somewhere down the line. 

      He coughs and puts his hand over his phone. He practices a few times before he finally speaks again, as best he can, adopting Bruce’s voice.

      “Y/N.”

      You feel guilty. You’re biting your lips and closing your eyes because you know this is wrong. Unfair to Jason. Not enough for you. And completely an injustice to Bruce. 

      But you can’t help it. You can already see Bruce’s eyes looking down at you, his muscular body hovering over you, built shoulders trapping you, and his knees caging your hips. His eyes are glazed over and his jaw is tight, clenching his teeth.

      You reach up to touch his face and your eyes widen when you come in contact with skin.

      “Bru--”

      His hand covers your mouth gently and hushes you, blowing hot breath on your cheeks. 

      “Y/N, want me to keep going?”

      He takes his hand away and takes your phone. He places it near your mouth.

      “I... I’m good now, Jason. Thank yo--”

      Bruce hangs up the phone and throws it on the floor.

      He’s no longer touching you in any way but his body is still hovering over you. When you look at him, his face is flushed red, sweat dripping down the sides of his head, and his eyes are narrowed and staring at you. “Bruce, you’re...”

     “Some of it got on me… when I helped you.”

      The pollen had fallen on you when you crashed into Ivy’s greenhouse. Batman quickly made sure you were okay but you had already inhaled some of it. You suddenly remember coughing as he helped you stand up.

      “You-- you want me?” you couldn’t help asking. He had come from Ivy’s greenhouse, he could have tracked down Selina, could have called any one of his past lovers, but right now, he’s with you.

      You watch Bruce’s eyes narrow, “I… I… What am I doing…”

      Bruce starts to lift himself off but you grab his arms to keep him there. “It’s okay--”

      “I’m taking advantage of you.”

      You shake your head, “Bruce, I consent. I want to do this-- I want to do this with you!”

      His eyes narrow, full of disbelief, “That’s the pollen talking--”

      “No-- it’s me. I’ve always--”

      “Don’t,”  he interrupts you quietly, resting his forehead against yours. “Don’t say it.”

      Your wide eyes shift around as you try to understand him. “Why not?” you whisper.

      Bruce knows. Of course, he knows. How could you have been so stupid to think you’ve hidden this so well, or underestimated Batman and thought you could hide it at all.

      You purse your lips and you glare at the impossible man above you. “I want you, Bruce. I’ve always wanted you.”

      Bruce’s eyes widen and they search your face for any hint of a lie, a forced confession brought on by the pollen. But he couldn’t find any.

      “Okay.”

      You stare at him with disbelief but your hands are already reaching up and wrapping around the back of his neck. “Just okay?”

      You pull him down and he lets you. His lips hover over yours and you stop breathing. 

      “Y/N.”

      His voice. His own voice. The husky sound that crawls on your skin and invades your body.

      As soon as Bruce kisses you, the pollen takes over.

      Your hands are gripping each other’s bodies. Fingers and nails digging into the skin. Hips pressing against each other. You’re getting wetter and Bruce is getting harder.

      He sits up and quickly takes off his shirt and his pants. You don’t have to time admire his naked form because he’s already undressing you. You’re almost surprised by how quickly and expertly he does it. But that’s not what you want to focus on right now.

      Before Bruce can take over, you want to make a claim. You sit up only to bend over and take his cock into your mouth. The sudden feeling of warmth and wetness makes Bruce grip your shoulders, veins popping out of his arms as he controls his hold and his desire to buck his hips hard.

      You take your time tasting him, sucking on him, and playing with him using your tongue. Every time you press the tip of your tongue against the head of his cock, his fingers dig deeper into your skin.

      When you hear him growl, you finally release him with a popping sound that vibrates in the silent room. Before you can look up, Bruce pushes you down against the bed. His eyes are wide open and he’s baring his teeth. You’ve never seen Bruce on the verge of losing control.

      You touch the side of his cheek, “Bruce. I want this.”

      You watch his face soften for a millisecond before the face of an animal returns. But his features are much tighter now. More in control.

      “Turn around.”

      Bruce controls himself and lets you flip your body over without his help. But as soon as your forearms are supporting you, he grips your hips and you can feel his hard cock against your pussy.

      You’re soft and wet and Bruce grunts as he enters you. When your warmth completely covers him his nails dig deep into your skin, making you flinch and release a long moan as the pain and pleasure diffuse each other.

      You smother your head into the sheets and bite through it. Bruce is fucking you without reservation, reaching all the way inside, making your hips slam against the mattress. The tighter you get, the faster he moves, hungry and relentless.

      You grip the sheets. “Bruce--!”

      Suddenly he stops. The sudden pause lets you catch up with your breath and relax your heartbeat but it’s also making the blood rush to your head. Before you can say anything, he slowly pulls out and gently turns you around so he can look at you.

      He looks different. There’s no more hunger there, no more frustration, the pollen has worn off. You stare at him frozen, afraid of what he’ll say next.

      But Bruce doesn’t say anything.

      Instead, he bends down and kisses you. Gentle. Long. Meaningful. When he pulls away a few inches, his eyes are hooded over and his voice is low and soft.

      “I want to see you.”

      Bruce watches your eyes glaze over as you slowly take in his words. When you nod, he kisses you again. This time when he enters you, there’s no more pollen to demand it. It’s just you and him.

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#requested #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Sex Pollen #DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #Bruce Wayne fanfiction #Bruce Wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne x reader #Batman fanfiction #Batman imagine #Batman x reader #watchtower-feed

[amomentintimeblackcattales]

A Moment in Time - Descending in The Darkness

Descend of the Darkness

Fanfiction.

Pairing - Darkseid/Batman Bruce Wayne

suspense/mysteries/police/action/adventure/space/sci-fi/lemon/explicit/pwp/romance/yaoi/gay

comic

batman/new goods/ justice league

resume:

I don't know if it was once, it was in the battle of the dark multiverse alternative versions, discover countless hidden secrets and mysteries, he returns, plans, games with the hidden beings of the multiverse, does he win, the prize? travel through the multiverse, back, in conspiracies and plots, prevent future from happening, starting to relate to Darkseid have sex with him, both have plans, the new god having his own your plans, conspiracies, manipulatives and possessives desires PWP

Chapter - 00001

During their marriage, which lasted 6 months ...

It was a period when he faced the dark world, and saw something that only the other versions would see, it changed his pragmatic mind into something more interesting to see and do ...

Bruce realized that he had trouble relating, his connection with CatWoman, he realized that it was more ... Sexual, not emotional, he had difficulties connecting, so he went to make a plan to end this situation between them .. .

Some time later...

Bruce had to save the world, sometimes he hoped that Selina was relatively well in the mansion, or looking at the cave, but that's not what he found ...

When he arrested those villains, tied towards the police station, arriving at the cave with the batmobile ...

Alfred was waiting for him.

- There's a problem, sir. - Said his faithful butler, he had just arrived from a mission to rescue Kara from Apokolips, he felt guilty, and wanted to talk to the butler, but the air of the issue, made him stop and stop his thoughts and guilt.

- What there was? - He asked.

- Selina was arrested. - Said Alfred, he realized that by the air of the word.

- Why was Selina arrested ...? - Bruce asked walking towards his old friend.

- She was stealing. - Said Alfred.

- What? - That was the worst ...

Bruce was at the police station a few hours later, he asked to enter the interrogation room, hours after she was released.

Being able to say that what the police did not do, Bruce did, without being guilty of domestic violence of aggression against women, much less feminicide, he had Amasteus by his side, making it clear that nothing he did would come out of there.

Being able to say again, that she cried with pain and he with rage.

- You don't pay attention to me. - Selina shouted.

- Women do not go out on the street for there to steal because their husbands do not pay attention. - Bruce said.

- You lost our son. He shouted.

- My body my Rules. - Said Selina.

- Not when you have a baby inside. - Bruce said.

- Since we are talking about my body my rules. - Bruce said, when he received a spit, after being slapped in the face.

- You want attention. - Bruce said roared.

- Then, I'll pay attention. - Bruce said.

Then Bruce was turning her on his knee to spank her, he just didn't do it anymore because when he took off his pants belt to hit her, which was not the drop, in the middle of Selina kicking, and trying to escape to getting punched in the face, so that, in and of itself , was the last straw.

In the end, she came out crying from there, at that moment, there was no evidence, bribing police and the justice to cover up her lack of control.

At that time, when she was caught in the act, and he didn't even think to get her out of there, the anger and betrayal were greater, in fact, he talked to Amasteus, an old lawyer from his parents' time , he helped him to cover up the beating.

In the end, no one believed her, when she shouted that she was beaten by her husband, they put it in the crime exam that the injuries were all due to falling through the roofs in the middle of the escape.

The divorce papers arrived when Selina was still awaiting trial in jail, this time, he would make sure she stayed there for at least a year ...

Reports said that Selina had a fit and almost ate the divorce papers.

He had his escapades, but he was not caught, Bruce should know that nothing between them would work, which even what Selina did, helped and gave an excuse for ending.

It was six months of an unhappy marriage in general opinion, not that it was bad in fact, but there were rumors, that the divorce was quick and fell in the mouth of the people, the media fell on them, all because Lois leaked in some way that he never came to understand.

There were those who appeared there in the middle of the trial, claiming that she was Selina's lover, from villains to pickpockets, who had occasional deals , which in the end became a circus, he was the horn, all of that, all the secrets of what she was supposed to did on your back.

All her secrets she was supposed to have been unearthed, for him and Amasteus, thankfully that Alfred traveled, practically drugged and put on a plane with a security guard to prevent him from returning before two years.

It was in general opinion, a quick marriage, unlike Selina, who was caught in the middle of a robbery, along with two more villains, was the Cat man and the calendar man .

In addition to Nocturne, who managed to escape, but were caught by Batman in his escape , which he did on the way back, when he arrived from Apokolips, when he least expected it to happen so soon.

Selina, in turn, fell between alleys, when a policeman, shot in his direction.

Without knowing it, he could have caught her, halfway to Gotham, on his way back.

Incredible as it seemed, they will testify against her, all for a witch hunt, of hooded thieves.

Decreasing their sentence, using it as if they knew the creator of the largest diamond in the world, and the jewels in the British crown, that she was the mastermind of the crime.

According to her, she should not be caught, which at that time, she wore a panther suit, to differentiate it from the Cat Woman, as if another cat suit with electric weapons was a big change, which did not prevent her from being unmasked in the Final.

Which was a good thing, it would be a problem if they remained married , he had new plans, and he could not stay married to Selina for so long if he continued like that, which he didn’t count on, when he stopped paying attention to the woman and continued with the vigilantism.

Bruce had said, by hiding his identity better than she, that somehow Selina was taken to the hospital, that's when she lost their baby.

Crime exams were done, what hurt most was the fall, it was what the exams said, to be a miscarriage, due to the fall, even though he said she should have stayed at home or expected the child born to be able to return to the supposed fight against crime, in the end ...

Selina had her secret escapades, while he faced Darkseid and returned to pick up thieves from a museum, Selina stole, all in the spirit of escapes.

At that time, Bruce made Alfred go.

- I need a year alone. - Bruce said. - Or more than two. - He said towards Alfred.

The concerned butler did not agree, he offered a coffee towards the butler, when they drank, the butler fell into his arms.

He paid the extended holiday Alfred that would be a year, not to stay there, so he could put his plans into action , actually .

On second thought, Bruce thought it best, two years, away from him , putting Alfred drugged in the direction of a private plane, in short, the old man woke up in a luxury hotel.

Seeing that next to the bed, a personal friend of Bruce who would keep an eye on Alfred and would not let him return anytime soon, so that Bruce could continue with his plans.

The poor butler called him angrily about rights and kidnappings, but Bruce was literally adamant.

What that didn't coincide with his return, doing that kind of thing to a man who had treated him like a son and was a supposed father to him, Bruce laughed and said, that life wasn't always how they wanted it.

Forcing the old butler, for a trip around the world, with everything paid for, to get to know every part of the planet earth, he would have a guide who would keep an eye on him, to leave him in peace, and with that, not stop him from doing what he had in mind ....

- Like you, you can do this to me, I did everything for you . - Said the butler on the phone.

- I don't understand, what's going on? Shouted Alfred.

- Alfred, you won't be able to return before a year, there's no use in that, I need you to stay out of Gotham. - Bruce said.

- I don't need any of that. - Said his butler.

- By the way. - Bruce said. - The cards would be blocked and monitored, for withdrawals and certain amounts, they would have to call me directly , and you can not return, before the established time.

- Damn it, boss, this is kidnapping. - Said Alfred.

Bruce needed to plan, and those plans did not include Alfred, nor his prior knowledge of what he intended to do.

- No, it is not kidnapping, I did not put you in private prison, nor did I arrest you anywhere, I am sending you to various parts of the world, you may as well enjoy your time. - Bruce said.

In Selina's case, that year, he wouldn't have to worry about her for a long time, unless she ran away.

She would be one year stuck in Black Gate, not run away, and if it did, it would be a fugitive, at that time, would have time to plan what to do as he would have neither Alfred nor Selina to disrupt.

Dick keeping away, and any of the boys, and also a plan to keep away members of the Justice League.

He would have a few weeks to plan ...

4 weeks later ...

Bruce got involved in gambling, and it was a bookmaker that no hero would enter, but with demons who would , that was just an invitation, which he accepted, it was interesting to say, that he was inspired.

Initially, he shouldn't have, but he did, it wasn't against the rules, but neither did anyone stop him from doing it.

4 weeks after the demons bet ...

Bruce was falling towards some ruins, there was an earthquake, he fell from the crater, falling towards cracks and with a part of his trunk being drilled, vertically.

He had a pointed rock, which had a vertical perforation on it, its thin point, with a thick extension, pierced from his shoulder towards a lung.

As he broke his spine with the fall, at that time, Bruce didn't know if he was going to die from the hemorrhage, or his punctured lung , or if they stayed alive on a bed .

There were several pointed rocks, close to his column, the fall itself that made him break his column, he did not move, above him, he had seen, not counting the fact of that pointed rock.

That was Superman who was on his side, a part of the tip of the pointed rock, had pierced Superman's shoulder that was on top of him.

- Bruce ... - Superman tried.

- I know you are a good person, but I don't think, I will last. - Bruce said.

- They will arrive. - Said Superman.

- Do not speak. - Bruce tried. - Stay quiet. - Bruce said.

- It's so beautiful. - Bruce said.

Superman felt the hot blood splash and spread on that floor, his body in Bruce's, feeling the blood, there was debris around them.

- I do not know. - Bruce said. - I had faith in you, that you would not do anything wrong. - Said.

- Shut up Bruce. - He requested. - I hear your heart.

- You are heavy, Kal. - Bruce said.

The vision of the man beneath him, blurred, he saw a light, he was a beautiful person, he did not know if it was a man or a woman, what mattered was that he, he was beautiful, and held out his hand,

- Come with me. - Said the voice.

- Yes, I will go with you. - Bruce said, he raised his hand from the arm that was not pierced, whose blood spread on the floor, he took the hands of this beautiful red-haired man.

- It's so beautiful. - Bruce said, you're calling me, he held out the hand that took it.

Bruce Wayne fell unconscious, when, he heard a scream, followed by a light.

Three weeks earlier.

There was a particularly loud earthquake and it was not destructive because of Superman and some Kryptonians.

Occurring on the busy streets of Metropolis, it fractured in some properties of Luthor, which in the meantime was an old building, or even what was Luthor's property, were working directly for him.

In the experts and scholars, and scientists to do studies they were sending, scholars and archaeologists, that they had in the course of research.

They discovered ruins, an old city with temples relatively intact underneath the sewers of Metropolises the whole city, had other buildings that they were researching, among these were an ancient civilization, mummifications, and old ones, prior to the year 1300.

There were tunnels that collapsed, that for more than a month or more were doing the research.

Among them was organized by Luthor, who were financing it out of pure interest, besides that there were many relics and monuments, in addition to what would be an image, statues of what would be an immense bat man.

These were three images that were interspersed with a reptile man like that of a demon or dragon, there was the shape of a man in the center and at the end a hybrid form between the three shapes, there were inscriptions, I would give money with excursions and tourism.

It all started a few weeks before ...

Many archaeologists were hired and he was directly committed to

It was not easy to be poor, and neither was aging ...

Because of Joker, he couldn't keep Batman's persona for long, spent his afternoon with a headache, and headed towards the cave, he was what he thought, going out for a drink, thinking about his retirement.

The man did not speak, if a miracle arose and he changed his mind, yes.

He needed some time, the headache really increased to the point of seeing a doctor.

It was at the end of that week, he had some tests done, the diagnosis came.

Terminal brain tumor, stage 4, there was no stage 5 ... which would be unnecessary and all a cheap emotion.

There were some investigations, which would prevent this, if he told someone they caused a commotion, which he did not need.

It wouldn't last long as a crime fighter, if he, in turn, did not see a miracle beyond the lazaro wells, or that he earned some money that would prolong his life, but let's be frank .

Bruce didn't want to prolong his life for long ... unless he could do it in a way that would have less consequences, Poços de Lazaro was out of the question.

Now, he found that it wouldn't last, he needed some time away, he wouldn't even live, his life gave what it had to give, it did its best.

Lately, he thought about sending a letter, to avoid complications, everyone there, needed a break, a sabbatical year on the cover, which wouldn't really be a year.

It would be an extra life, but he changed his mind, and simply said, when he had an urgent meeting in the watchtower gathering all the heroes there around the big table and meeting.

- I will take a gap year for myself, at the end of the month I will travel. - Said. - And if all goes well I will come back. - Bruce said.

- Today is going to be my last day in the justice league. - Bruce said. - At least for a while. - Bruce said.

- What are you going to do, bat? - He Green Arrow.

- I go on a journey of self discovery, and train again. - Said Batman.

- Will you come back later? - It was Hal.

- Not for now, I won't be going back. - Bruce said.

- I'm getting too old to fight. - Bruce said.

- Many people are appearing stronger than me. - Bruce said.

- I also don't want to go back yet, I have to enjoy it a little.

- Take a gap year. - Bruce said.

- I have to keep the bones that I still have. - Bruce said.

- I want to enjoy my old age that is coming. - Bruce said.

- I don't want to fight anymore, at least for now. - Bruce said.

- I will leave the new generation. - Bruce said.

- So, a year without you, bat. - Said Hal.

- One year. - Bruce said. - I will travel at the end of the month. - Bruce said.

As far as he knew they were projected, like holograms, and was seen on all televisions, just the back of their bodies as seen.

The Presence appeared above them, accompanied by others, like Lucifer and Neron and the others who appeared beside him at the bar, which Bruce drank, he looked around.

His images appeared like mirrors of water, above the clouds and buildings of Gotham City, Metropolises, Central City, Star City and all other super heroic cities.

Superman appeared above the skies and the Metropolis buildings and tried unsuccessfully to punch the faces of The Presence, but passed right by him.

- We didn't come here to fight. - Said Lucifer. - But to propose a deal. - Said the morning angel.

- We are here to announce to all the heroes, a way to earn money. that will be worth gold. - Said The Presence

- We propose to all heroes, they are not obliged to do if they do not want to. - Said Trigon.

- What do you think we would do that for? - Asked Superman. - Do you think we will do something for you? - Asked the man of steel.

- They will not be obliged, but if they do. - Said Trigon. - You will receive 700 billion dollars and 30 gold bars.

Two innocent heroes of sin from each of the cities, without being obliged to do so, must, if they want to kill, in two weeks, 7 innocent people. - Said Trigon.

- The villains are not worth it, you may or may not kill by spontaneous will. - Said Trigon. - Without being forced. - Said Trigon.

A sky of gold appeared above the clouds, and an immense pointed tower floating at its end a box of dollars, opening them, and revealing to everyone appearing in front of all the heroes the gold bars and dollars, and then returning to box.

- You kill if you want. - Said Trigon. - They are not obliged. - Said the demon.

- Within two weeks, you must decide whether to kill or not. - Said Trigon.

- The tower is protected, and will not be able to leave there in less than two weeks, those who try will regret it. - Said another creature.

It was announced in the news, and the internet was broadcast, broadcast on all television channel networks, and nothing else was said, moreover during the two days in a row until the end of the week.

Everyone saw and heard the story, everyone there, felt the pressure and the power ...

Yes, they said only the heroes they could kill.

Superman looked towards the sky, and seeing there around him the black tower with the gold on its tip at the top of it.

- It can not be. - Said Superman.

- Who would kill for money, a hero would not do that.

Superman called a watch tower meeting later that afternoon.

The heroes gathered in the watchtower, if that was enough, Luthor set up a demonstration and a press conference, about the danger of Superman, that even the Boy Scout would not be able to ignore a sum of money with this.

Superman saw Bruce's chair being occupied by another Batman.

- What would he gain to give money for us to kill.

- See how much we lower ourselves? - Ravena made an attempt.

- He could see us corrupt and with that, he would have innocent souls being taken to the abyss of fear. - Said Ravena.

Batman looked at everyone and said. - Corrupt. - Said. - At best.

- Why didn't he choose a villain? - Zatana asked.

- Do you really think we will make money if we kill an innocent? Asked Constantine. - If they said that anyone could kill, then in the first hour they had already killed. - Said Zatana.

- It is much better to see a hero corrupting and keeping than a villain, he has already been corrupted, and they kill for money, anyone would see, that there would be no fun in not having rules. - Said Batman.

- Then. - Said Green Arrow. - The cool thing is to see who's first. - He said.

Superman flew towards the bat cave, Bruce had already returned to the mansion, he was feeling weak, the drink and the pressure didn't go down well, if he had problems to contain Superman at his best, falling on the weak cave floor, it didn't seem like a good situation.

Bruce ignored the calls from the league, he turned off the computers, the cell phones, everything, stayed in the dark, thinking of a backup plan, in case they would literally want to kill, but he was thinking about Superman.

He alternated with wiretaps and trackers in each of his allies, Bruce supposedly spent time drinking, he actually took a laptop and followed in the footsteps with cameras scattered around the cities, following in the footsteps of each hero that each city.

Bruce ran towards the bathroom, not holding on, it was there that he heard Superman flying towards the cave, he couldn't stop vomiting, he heard more than one step, it was someone else ...

- Bruce. It was Dick, who had his hands on his shoulders.

Bruce when he finished throwing up on the toilet, he turned.

- You drank. - Said Superman. - All week.

- Still thinking about traveling? - It was a strange question asked by the man of steel.

- We are not at the end of the month yet. - Bruce said. - But I'm not well. - Said. - Something in the drink. - Bruce said.

- Hangover at best is not well. - Said Superman. - But it is not a reason for that.

- Do you intend to kill yourself from drinking so much? - Questioned Diana appearing beside them.

- What do you want here? - He asked wiping his mouth with toilet paper, and getting up, he was wearing only brown pajamas.

- I left the league, go away. - Bruce said staggering.

- I am no longer useful to the justice league. - Bruce said. - I am out.

- We thought you knew. - Said Superman accompanying him around the cave.

- That was shown in all cities. - Bruce said.

Some lights were off, and the computer was drizzling with the screen, there was little lighting, the cave and the mansion were in darkness.

Bruce fell towards the chair away from the computer on a table in the corner, his head hurt, he was in a rag, there was a large travel backpack in the corner, his temple was aching.

- God ... - Bruce said. - Crap.

- I would say yes, Bruce. - Diana said.

Bruce found himself in the mirror, deep dark circles, thank goodness that Alfred died, he wouldn't see him, with a beard to do, and his hair tousled.

If anyone tried to get Batman out of his cave, Jocker had the party in Gotham, but apparently, there was no one to get him out of his grave.

- I'm tired. - Bruce said.

- We are having problems. - Diana said.

- You can have any problem whatsoever, but I left the league. - Bruce said.

- I trained, you Dick, enough to succeed me. - Bruce said.

- I will not help. - Bruce said.

- There's another Batman doing the job. - Bruce said.

- But not even a piece of advice? - Asked Superman.

Bruce looked towards Superman.

"No," he said.

- I want to be left alone. - Bruce said.

- There are so many heroes and watchmen in Gotham. - Bruce said.

- I trained most, if not all. - Bruce said. - One hour you find out what to do. - Bruce said.

They looked at each other and left the cave.

Bruce looked towards a computer, he waited a few minutes and turned on a computer, he was then on, turning on several screens and showing each of the heroes of the cities.

- Idiots. - Bruce said.

- Fools. - He said.

Within the first week that followed, almost at the end of Friday, all the heroes are included, two heroes from each super heroic city, will be able to kill seven innocents, from the first to the last, the one who kills, must be an innocent without sin.

Everyone there with nervous nerves, they were constantly irritated, there was a clock clocking the time.

Heroes, gods, villains and everyone there, saw and heard what the gods said.

- Interesting. - said Luthor. - I couldn't have done it better.

In a villain bar ...

Luthor was sitting at a table with poker cards and smoking a cigar.

Luthor watches around, he realized that they wanted heroes to kill, who was he not to help, to make Superman a villain.

- I bet Superman will succumb. - He said.

Joker, and some villains gathered at a round table to chat and play poker around them among smokers and underworld villains.

- I bet I can make Batman kill. - The crime clown said.

- Whoever gains something from this, is the hero, not us. - Said Senhor Frio, besides killing for money. - Said Cold.

- I don't see, Batman killing around, not even for money. - Said Mr Frio.

- Actually, I only see a Batman, but I don't know if this is the original. - Said Penguin.

- Even if he needed to. - Said Penguin.

- But did you notice anything, Joker? Asked Poison Ivy.

- What, dear? - Questioned the clown.

- We haven't seen him in weeks. - Said the green woman.

- You, like all of us, know that what we have here is not the original. - Said Poison.

- And you know he doesn't kill. - Said Crocodile.

- But we don't know about this new one. - Riddler said.

- He had thousands of opportunities to kill you and he didn't, and it was free. - Said Penguin. - Because he would kill an innocent, even now for money.

- Power corrupts, doesn't it? Asked The Riddler. - And greed makes you do crazy things.

- We can play a little, make them angry, enough to cause a complication and go crazy to the point of killing and discounting an innocent. - Riddler said.

- Does murder by mistake committed count? - Riddled questioned.

- Come on, see the biggest madman who caused chaos to the point of driving him crazy, would be you. - Riddler said.

- Since we're not doing anything. - Riddler said. - Why not? - Nygma asked.

- Wouldn't you do it for money? - Said. - Did you see that amount? - Two Face asked. - It is 700 billion dollars and 30 gold bars. - Said. - That leaves anyone with greed. - He said.

- What would we gain from killing him? - Asked Joker. - Besides of course seeing him kill an innocent. - Said. - Come on people, watch the circus catch on fire.

- He could share the money with us, if we found the victim. - Nygma proposed.

- Since when, would any hero share money with us? - Questioned Crocodile.

- Why not? - Nygma asked.

- Because if a person kills an innocent, since when, he would care not to kill us? - Questioned Harlequin appearing.

- What if we kidnapped a hero's ally. - Nygma proposed. - If we have any hostages. - Tried Riddler.

- He wouldn't mind a villain. - Said Harlequin. - And it would kill everyone in front of you.

- How about we have fun at least, forget that part. - Said Joker. - How about chaos for chaos. - Said Joker.

- Yes. - They said around. - Clinking glasses.

They would try to get the gold.

While the most idiotic, in every way, all to a lesser and greater degree were transformed into animals, in addition to being electrocuted, a mountain of pigs walking back while trying to get the money boxes from that pointed tower.

Among the villains began to occur bets on who would kill first.

Lois Lane was looking for a story, ignoring most hero screams and craziness.

During that week, reporters were addressing the heroes on those issues.

The heights were the crime in each of the cities, they took several hostages throughout the week, in themselves, each time they appeared and a hero appeared, the villains used children as a shield.

There were several cases of kidnappings throughout the week.

Lois Lane was covering the story of super heroes on murder innocent.

- Lois. - Perry said ahead of him in the newsroom of the daily planet.

- You are excused for the rest of the month. - Said.

- What...? - Said Lois.

- No ... - Said Lois. - No ... - He said again. - It's not right.

- It is the source of all Superman's problems, some stupid villain can use you to force him to kill an innocent. - Said.

- Don't come back here before the end of the month. - Perry said.

- Who said Superman kills? Cried Lois.

- Street informants. - Perry said. - They stole a shipment of kryptonite, and fear gas. - Perry said.

- Who said that? Asked Lois.

- Me, - said Jimmy. - I discovered a leaked informant that they stole coming to Metropolises

- Hallucinating men have done the worst. - Perry said.

- While drugged aliens, they hallucinate and kill, even if they don't want to. - Said.

- He may think you are the Apocalypse. - Perry said.

- In addition to making a story about his death, I will make a story supporting Luthor. - Perry said.

- The rules are clear, Perry, he can only willingly kill an innocent. - Lois said. - And no thanks. - Lois said.

- That's not what I heard. - Perry said. - If you stay, I will call the police and you will be escorted off the daily planet. - Said. - I will claim national security. - Perry said.

- Chief, please. - You tried Lois.

- If you prove it to me. - Perry said. - That she will not be killed by Superman. - Perry said. - Thinking that you are a super villain. - Perry proposed. - I allow. - Said your boss.

Steaming Lois went to his table, picked up his things, and headed down the street by the elevator.

Bruce, followed Lois, with his sunglasses, he bumped into her even coughing and feeling sick, almost falling, the woman almost got angry, but turned around in time when she realized that the man was feeling sick , it was a good leper disguise that , being unrecognizable.

- My God. - Lois said. - You are well? - She asked.

- I'm going to get better, sitting on the bench, a little wobbly and unstable.

She released him, when he got up, without realizing that he put a tracker on her, watching her, and then following her the next day monitoring her, and watching Diana's actions, throughout the day, and throughout the week.

Some of them bet on Batman, even if they had not seen him for a long period of time, since the previous month , they would manage to induce him to kill.

There were several press conferences that Luthor made, arguing that Superman was as fallible as anyone who would be a danger to the world, and should be jailed throughout the week until the test period is over.

Wonder Woman was about to break a villain's neck and her sword almost pierced the shoulder of an innocent man caught in an ambush and used as a shield.

Each of the heroes at some point, were caught in crossfire between villains who looked like an assault group, they appeared, took Superman, Wonder Woman seriously, they made an attack, came and went the moment they acted.

That week , Wonder Woman was restrained by Superman who was trying to prevent her from killing one of the criminals who used a hostage as a shield, in addition to bombs attached to him.

After they calmed down, Superman also lost control of the ensuing revenge and assault group.

- Do you think they would really give us money in case an innocent person dies? Barry asked.

- Even if they drop money, I wouldn't do that. - Said Superman.

- Even if it is, it is a lot of money, in addition to losing my soul, I would become rich, but my soul is very important to me, Barry. - Said Superman.

- Yes. - Barry said. - For me too. - Barry said. - But what if it were by other means, like winning the lottery, what would you do with 700 billion dollars, in addition to 30 gold bars.

- What a dream, Barry. - Diana was laughing. - It's a lot of money, really. - Diana said.

- I have no idea. - Said Superman sitting in the leisure room of the tower.

- I would at least distribute a part. - Said. - There are a lot of hungry people with no money around the world. - Said Superman.

- Scout as always. - Diana said. - It's a good idea. - Diana said.

- You wouldn't do that, with that money. - Said Superman. - If there was another way.

There was the attraction and seduction of sin itself, once, it was almost tempted, there was temptation.

All the heroes almost killed an innocent, even if it is an almost, they were attracted to a persecution.

Investigating and following heroes, he demanded his part in his body, everyone thought he was drinking, or feeling sick in the corners, but really, he didn't sleep, it had been four days.

They had constant fights, Superman, Wonder Woman, several sprinters.

His lack of sleep, he was going to five, he was taking energy and eating a lot, which he saw several heroes being cornered, and villains that were surrounding Diana.

Those bastards were doing double work for some heroes, in the matter of the sixth day, Luthor, made an appearance, and invited Bruce to go out together, the man managed to reschedule three times, four, until he could not find an excuse to avoid that find it.

They were sitting in silence in the watchtower, after a tiring day of humanitarian aid, they almost killed or left children who were kidnapped by a villain, Superman almost dropped a child towards a precipice.

- I can't continue to fight. - Said Superman.

- What there was? Diana asked.

- I need to go to the fortress. - Said Superman.

- What's going on, Kal.

- I'm not as steel as I imagine. - Said Superman.

Bruce Wayne, was following Superman, Diana, and several heroes, to a greater or lesser degree, were being tempted.

There was a fight at the end of helping some girls, they were angry, and they went to fight.

For hours, they didn't even speak.

Bruce started making excuses enough to avoid even his children, some reporters, even avoiding contact with Clark, former colleagues in the justice league.

He had deep dark circles and he didn't look well, thin, he couldn't hide, even with makeup, he was pale and bent, he had white streaks on his head .

It was strange even for him, he looked with constant expression of pain on his face, that moment, Bruce was shaking.

Well, he went to Luthor's Tower, panting, in a dark suit.

- What do you want, Luthor? - He said.

- Apparently I scare him. - Entering your room.

- The finite situation. - Bruce said.

His vision left Lex unresponsive, he looked worse, deciding that it wouldn't do to wear his makeup or anything.

- You are sick. - Luthor said looking.

- A little bit. - He said, taking a glass of wine offered, his lips were dry and blue, looking at himself in the mirror after what he felt, it was not scary.

- So your trip is for that. - said Luthor.

- Yes, I have a trip to resolve this at the end of the month. - Bruce said.

- Do you intend to return? Asked Luthor.

- I intend to come back better. - Bruce said. - It's just bad days. - He said.

- I understand. - They were heading towards Luthor's dinosaur museum, taking the elevator down with it.

- You had something to share with me, before you saw me. - Bruce said.

- That Kryptonian, and the league know? Asked Luthor.

- They just know that I'm taking a gap year. - Bruce said.

- If why, I did not say, and they did not notice.

They are coming here. - Said Luthor. - I have something to share with you. - said Luthor.

[renaroo]

“Is that a challenge?” Selina Kyle and Cassandra Cain

A/N: How could I refuse this? Two of my favorite batladies at once!

A Rainy Night

The rain fell from the rooftops rhythmically. Each patter was spaced, hitting a consistent, drumming beat.

When she closed her eyes, she could hear every song in the city. Affectionately, she breathed in Gotham. Even having lived in Gotham her entire life, she had rarely seen it as beautiful. But she felt its beauty, felt it in the heartbeat drumming on.

Selina Kyle was not dressed for a rainy Gotham that night. Her suit was a leather and modal blend that creaked in the wetness and groaned against the dampness like a barometer. Even rolling her neck back and forth to stretch met with resistance.

But she had made a promise to him that night and every night since she had put the suit back on. She had promised to make the nights of the East End hers. To take on their shared city and tame the nasty beast it could be.

And when someone like Catwoman promised someone like Batman something like that, well, there were no options.

She had a promise to keep.

One last time, she breathed in her city, closed her eyes, listened to the rhythms of the rains, then tilted back against the ledge of her building, and fell hurtling toward the earth.

Her hand skillfully yanked out her awaiting whip. It crackled and snapped as it found purchase. Her body moved fluidly through the jolt, pulled into the momentum of her whip. And then she flew toward her next spot.

As always, she landed on her feet. Even in the rain.

Then, she kept running.

Even in the rain, she had a destination in mind.

Like most cities with a healthy undercurrent of crime, Gotham followed ebbs and flows. Criminals, whether the Batman wanted to, believe it or not, were ultimately very human. Their activities followed the weather for a variety of reasons. It was more difficult to move large contrabands in the rain. People didn’t like to get wet when they could avoid it. Less potential marks were on the streets to target.

But, like any human, they were also people with needs. Some people still needed to work, to get something achieved for the rotten day. And, from experience, Selina knew a home where girls and drugs alike could congregate out of the rain and out of the electively observant eyes of the GPD.

Quick by habit, she reached the building — old and gutted and supposedly uninhabited — and began to descend the fire escape through overcast and shadows. Each window was its own morality play on display as she looked for a familiar face to lean on for a good lead.

Even in the rain, she had heard rumors of big moves in the East End and she intended to stop its groundswell.

It was her intention to have it handled without much notice or applause. Which made it all the more curious when she had the hair prickling sensation that she, in fact, had an audience in attendance.

Claws bared, Selina turned on her boot heels toward the alley and saw shadows.

But she was not new to the business. She had been around Batman for years. So she swiped at the shadows all the same and felt her wrist caught easily by a firm grip.

Standing out further from the shadows, Batgirl revealed herself in her completely black uniform and faceless ensemble. The only color to be seen in the dreary rain was the golden shine of a bat’s outline over her chest.

“I didn’t ask for company,” Selina hissed at her.

Batgirl tilted her head slightly. “Didn’t ask.”

Despite herself, Selina smiled. She had experience with Bruce’s previous wards, even the original Batgirl, but this relatively new face was still elusive to her. Their encounters were always brief and pointed.

“Whatever you’ve got to do or say, make it fast, Bat Brat,” Selina warned, slipping her wrist out of Batgirl’s grip with a simple twist. “I’m working hard tonight already. I don’t need to lose time being the witness to your newest Bat Practice.”

“Okay,” Batgirl said. Then nothing else. She stood in place, almost expectantly.

Selina stared at her then looked back to the windows. The occupants of its morality play had apparently already switched scenes and she had lost track of her target. It was enough an annoyance to dismantle any light-hearted feelings she had to spare.

Her eyes glistened with anger as she glared back at Batgirl.

“Did he have something specifically he needed from me?” she demanded.

To that, Batgirl seemed almost blank. “Who?”

“You know who,” Selina replied snappishly. “Batman. What’s he want?”

Despite the blankness of the mask, Batgirl portrayed a lot with a shrug of her shoulders and casual tilt of her head.

It only served to confuse Selina even further.

The rain was getting harder, enough so that it was cascading over the fire escape. Selina stepped closer to the wall of the building. Batgirl didn’t move at all.

“What are you doing here then?” Selina pressed. “You’re messing with my plans for the night.”

At first, Batgirl’s silence did not seem different than her usual quietness. It was enough so that Selina grunted in aggravation and actually began to consider moving on for the night. But Batgirl did finally answer her.

“Watching,” the shadowy figure at last said.

“For what?” Selina asked testily.

Batgirl shrugged, more childishly and timid that time. It was as if she was completely caught unexpected by simple questions.

When Selina looked back into the building, she no longer saw activity. At least not any that mattered for her interest. It was all people moving through the motions of their lives and choices. Not Catwoman business. As far as Selina was concerned, not anybody’s business anymore. Especially not on a cold and rainy Gotham night.

“Well, come on then,” Selina said, getting out her whip and beginning to unravel it for use. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

Batgirl’s head tilted in the opposite direction. She had questions, but that time she didn’t express them.

“Have you ever sat back and finished off a coffee at the top of Gotham Cathedral?” Selina asked the girl with false casualness.

Confused, Batgirl reached for her standard Batman issued grappler, assumedly to follow after Selina. “Have you?”

Smirking, Selina whipped upward, finding purchase at the top of the opposing building. “Is that a challenge?” After a small laugh at Batgirl’s expense, Selina leaped for the building. “You know what, Bat-kid? Let’s make it one. Coffee’s on me.”

“Okay!” Batgirl said enthusiastically as she followed.

While they hadn’t been formally introduced, Selina couldn’t help but think they had a chance at building something beautiful here.

#batfic #Cassandra Cain #Selina Kyle #Batgirl #Catwoman #writing #mistressgrey posts #ask and you shall receive

[bigskydreaming]

Imagine that Dick and Jason liiiiiive to synchronize their Let’s Be Shits schedules just in time for any posh gala the Wayne children are expected to attend.

Some Douchebag is like “So, Richard. What is it you do, these days?”

And Dick just plasters on the most vacuous smile in existence, like the kind that could only be engineered in a lab by combining Brucie with a Colgate commercial for sparkling teeth, special effects included.

And he’s like, “Oh, I’m an instagram model and social influencer.”

And then Jason appears out of nowhere, swaying on his feet and throwing an arm around Dick’s shoulder as if to support himself, hiccuping a little and splashing some of his wine over the edge of his glass (its apple juice, of course).

“So am I,” he says, punctuating with another hiccup. “But only like. Ironically.”

Dick leans in towards the Douchebag as if to confide a secret, as the latter tries to lean away whilst still figuring out what expression his face wants to produce. 

“He keeps saying that like it means something, but I’m not sure it does. I think he saw it on a youtube video and just started copying it. That’s not copyright infringement right? Bruce’ll probably be pissed if he has to pay out another lawsuit for copyright stuff after I just got in trouble for trying to sell tickets to my band’s show without getting permission to use all the songs we did. Like, how was I supposed to know you needed permission to sing songs? Isn’t this, like. America?”

The Douchebag starts stammering and attempting to edge gracefully away - hell, he’ll settle for not gracefully, he really was never even looking for an answer in the first place, just a soundbite he could reenact for his snobby friends later. This was more than he was actually prepared for.

Jason meanwhile surges forward and grabs a hold of Douchebag’s suited arm, acting like he still needs the support.

“Hey. It does so mean something, and I came up with it on my own, I didn’t steal shit. If I was going to steal stuff, I’d go for the silver, not words, how dumb do you think I am? He’s always doing this,” he complains to the Douchebag. 

“Just because I didn’t start school until the sixth grade and had to bribe our little brother to take all my tests for me, he acts like I don’t even know what words mean. But he’s the one who only passed his senior year of high school by getting Playgirl to do a photoshoot of him when he turned eighteen just before finals, and then most of his teachers just made sure he passed so they wouldn’t feel pervy because they’d gone gaga over his photos and then he got held back a year and they had to see him every day and feel sketchy.” 

Dick spreads his arms wide as if an extremely self-explanatory point has just been made.

“Hello? Is that, or is that not, a display of genius?”

“Really, I do have to be going, I think I see my old business partner waving at me from over there - “ the Douchebag says somewhat desperately. 

“Dammit Jay, look what you did.” Dick wails dramatically. He even stomps a foot for good measure. Jason’s struggling not to laugh. “You’re embarrassing us in front of one of Bruce’s guests. Now he thinks we’re low class and its going to be all over the news and this is gonna be the last straw and Bruce’ll get fed up and say we can never go to these things again and its going to be all your fault and none of this would ever happen if you weren’t always like. Ugh. What’s the word.”

The Douchebag is hastily assuring them he doesn’t think they’re embarrassing or low class and he’s not going to tell anyone otherwise, while still trying to pry his jacket sleeve loose from Jason’s iron grip. Jason meanwhile appears oblivious to anything the Douchebag says or does, as he fixates on his brother and starts waving his own arms around dramatically....which sends Douchebag stumbling in the process, all without either brother seeming to notice.

“Well I’m sure I can’t help you, since I don’t know words so good,” Jason hisses equally dramatically. “I’m just a fucking dumbass from the Narrows, isn’t that right. I’m not some fancy circus boy like you were, all I had to practice reading on as a kid was my rap sheet.”

He moves to fling his arms over his head in exasperation, and tears the Douchebag’s suit sleeve with a resounding ripping noise in the process. Douchebag stares at the remains of the jacket that cost several thousand dollars that he doesn’t have, because he’s a pompous jackass who lives beyond his means in an attempt to fund his social ladder climbing expeditions.

“Now look what you did,” Dick cries, flinging his head back as if in total despair, the black locks of his hair flying from side to side in theatrical disarray. “Do you even know how much that poor man’s suit must have cost him? Probably more than my parents’ trailer, I’ll bet you that much.”

“Really, its quite alright,” the Douchebag tries to insist through clenched teeth. It wasn’t, in his eyes, not by a long shot, but he forced himself to remember that for whatever reasons, these two...peasants were still Bruce Wayne’s chosen wards....or well, worse yet...adopted sons. God, but that man’s abyssmal IQ was an absolute plague on Gotham’s high society. “It could have happened to anyone.”

“No, please, don’t try and cover for him, he’ll never learn that way. You must let us pay for the damage, Bruce will just take it out of his allowance, it’ll be fine,” Dick says, patting at the man’s arm feverishly as if he can smooth out the gaping hole left by the flap now hanging limply down the man’s sleeve.

“Oh, I’ll never learn? How about you, destroying Bruce’s grandmother’s antique china at the birthday party you tried to throw for Damian after Bruce specifically asked you not to try and play host anymore?” Jason gets in his brother’s face, liquid sloshing over the side of his erratically swinging glass and in the process splashing all over the back of the Douchebag’s neck.

“I was trying to actually do something nice for someone else, not that you’d know anything about that,” Dick hisses obnoxiously loudly. “How was I supposed to know you weren’t supposed to use steak knives to cut up food on china? Its not like plates come with instruction manuals!”

“Not like you’d know how to read them if they did!”

“Have you never heard of Youtube tutorials?”

“Have you never heard of shut the fuck up, you absolute dillhole?”

“Would both of you stop it? You’re causing a scene!” The two’s younger brother Timothy arrived on the scene, smoothly sliding between them and the ecstatically grateful Douchebag, who backpeddles out of the way at the first available opportunity. Tim throws him an apologetic glance, but the Douchebag barely notes it as he furiously makes for the side entrance as fast as he can, with the less people seeing his disheveled state the better. 

So much for the networking he had planned on doing the rest of the night. He firmly vowed to steer far clear of the eldest two Wayne buffoons at all future events Brucie insisted on inflicting the oafs on the rest of them.

All of which of course means he completely missed the way the brothers’ dramatics hushed into heated whispers upon Tim’s arrival, or the high five Dick and Jason slipped each other discreetly.

“Let’s see Brucie top that,” Jason says smugly.

“Oh god. You’ve finally done it. You’ve turned a charity event into a war games scenario.”

“Oh please. All of that money goes straight into the board of directors’ pockets,” Dick says dismissively. “The only actual money being raised for charity tonight is from the jewelry Selina’s liberating from the guests. And Damian and Cass already called dibs on helping her with that, and Duke’s already doing the scorekeeping for when that inevitably turns into a competition, so we were bored. And left alone to our own devices. So really if anyone’s to blame its everyone but us.”

“Sides, this is a time honored tradition for us,” Jason adds with a smirk. “We call it guerilla class warfare. We’re sleeper agents for the working class, see.”

“You’re the reason the Valentinos never show up to any Wayne Enterprise hosted events anymore, aren’t you?” Tim realizes.

“Some of our best work,” Dick reminisces fondly. Their little brother sighs.

“Please at least tell me you never actually posed for Playgirl.”

Dick shrugs. “Oh, they offered, but even when Bruce and I were at our worst, its not like I ever actually wanted to give him a stroke.”

“Continuity error,” Jason points out smugly. “Total amateur move.”

Dick merely arches a brow. “Not when I can simply claim Bruce must have paid to cover it up for the sake of the family image, and was absolutely furious at my besmirching of the good Wayne family name. And wait a second, weren’t you the one who introduced that into the scene in the first place? I just yes and-ed according to the rules of improv, like the professional that I am.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound right,” Jason says, completely unperturbed. Not an ounce of perturbed in sight. He continues on smoothly. “And if Sir Douchely of Douchington actually digs a little deeper and yet can’t seem to find anyone who recalls ever actually seeing this oh so salacious spread?” 

Dick’s shit remains unphased.

“I’ll simply flip the script and release the hounds aka Steph, Harper, Cullen and all three dozen of their twitter handles, wondering all over the Gotham social media highways just why someone of his standing is so intent on tracking down the homoerotic depravities of the eldest Wayne heir, given that despite his unjust leapfrogging up the social ladder, he is still ultimately a....commoner.”

“Ah yes,” Jason nods sagely. “And as all Gothamites know well, if you prick us, we doth not bleed blue. Just a terribly pedestrian red.”

“Oh the humanity,” Dick sighs. He joins his younger brother in nodding the slow, steady head-bob of the intellectually validated, their seeming rivalry melting into sibling synchronicity.

Tim eyes them and shakes his head side to side instead.

“You two disturb me.”

Jason shrugs. “Well, that does make sense. Don’t get me wrong, you’re our little brother and we’re terribly fond of you now, Timmers. But when the revolution comes, we will have to turn on you as well.”

“Fair is fair,” Dick hums in agreement. “We can’t play favorites. That’s how you get an upper class in the first place.”

“Yeah I don’t know what to do with this,” Tim sighs and heads off in search of Steph.

“Just FYI, your girlfriend’s Team Proletariat too. She’s got the T-shirt and everything,” Jason calls after him.

Tim swerves in mid-step and redirects himself towards Kate. At least their cousin slash-aunt-slash-nobody’s-bothered-to-parse-the-actual-relation-there could be counted on to be somewhat normal. Her idea of making a scene was to simply start a brawl, and Tim had overheard Bruce specifically elicit a promise from her earlier in the evening that she would throw no punches or kicks or headbutts or judo throws, nor any manner of actual or improvised weaponry.

[lfthinkerwrites]

High School AU: Superintendent al Ghul

Superintendent al Ghul arrives and the author shamelessly rips off The Simpsons.

On Wednesday morning, at 8 AM on the dot, Strange and Gordon had the faculty and senior staff of Gotham Academy lined up outside the school's front gates. The two principals marched in front of the faculty, much like generals inspecting their troops. In the center of the line, Edward stood next to Penelope. "So that's the plan?" he asked her. "Just be our charming selves for the day?"

"That's what Pamela, Harley, and Jonathan decided," Penelope said. "I think they talked to Dent and Selina. Well, at least Harley and Pamela did."

"Yes, I notice that Jonathan is conspicuously absent. What did you do to him at the 'conference' last night?"

"He won a bottle of red wine."

"And he overindulged. Typical Jonathan." Edward looked at Penelope and noticed that she was fidgeting with her hands. "Nervous? I didn't think anything rattled you."

"Yes-no-well," Penelope took a breath. "There's something I needed to talk to you about."

Edward rolled his eyes. "I am aware that joining in Jonathan's plan was a bad idea. I had the concussion to prove it, thank you very much."

Penelope let out an irritated sigh. "That wasn't what I wanted to talk about! God, why are you so-"

"Charming?"

"Impossible," Penelope finished. "You're impossible."

Edward looked again and realized just how flustered the normally cool as a cucumber counselor was. "Sorry," he said. "What did you want to talk about?"

Penelope flushed a bit. "Meet me in my office at lunch."

Edward cocked his head, then nodded. "Alright."

Strange's booming voice interrupted their moment. "Now that we are all assembled-" he paused, then his face darkened when he realized Jonathan's absence. "Where is Crane!?"

Jervis stepped forward, trembling a bit in the face of Strange's fury. "March Hare-excuse me, Jonathan, said that he would be a bit late. He's feeling under the weather."

Strange took a deep breath. "Fine," he said. "As long as he actually arrives. As for the rest of you," he raised his voice. "I don't think I need to remind you of the consequences should you decide to misbehave today."

A shudder ran through half of the staff. The other half, Kerr, Dent, and the Sirens included stared back at Strange defiantly. "We're well aware," Pamela said. "Now, is there a purpose to us being lined up here other than a power trip for you, Strange?"

Strange chuckled lowly. "Of course, Dr. Isley. When the Superintendent and the school board arrive, they'll see for themselves just how orderly you can be, given the correct incentive."

"Principal Strange," Kristen tapped him on the shoulder. "The Superintendent is here!"

Strange, for the first time anyone could remember looked, flustered. "He's here! My God! All of you behave or so help me-" A large black limousine pulled up to the front entrance of the school, followed closely by what Harvey and Selina recognized as Bruce's car. A large man popped out of the driver's seat and opened the rear passenger door. Out emerged a tall, well-built man with a neatly trimmed grey beard and striking green eyes. A black cape billowed around him as he made his way up to the assembled faculty. This was Superintendent al Ghul. And he looked less than impressed.

"Oh geez," Harley gulped. "He's wearin' the cape! We really are in trouble!"

Strange and Gordon stepped forward to greet al Ghul. "Good morning, Superintendent al Ghul," Strange spoke in an almost servile tone.

"Good morning indeed," al Ghul huffed. "I have important matters to attend to! This visit had better not be a waste of my and the board's time!"

"I can assure you, it isn't," Bruce said, walking up to join them. He and al Ghul shared a brief glare before he spoke again. "I have serious concerns about how the faculty behaves at this school."

Selina nudged Harvey's side. "Bruce and al Ghul don't get along?"

"al Ghul never forgave Bruce for not marrying Talia," Harvey explained. "They can't stand each other."

Selina rubbed her chin in thought. Bad blood between Bruce and al Ghul. They could exploit that somehow. Sorry, Bruce, but Selina liked being gym teacher here.

"Very well," al Ghul sighed. He began to walk down the line. "Most of you I've met before. Dent. Kyle. Isley. Quinzel," his face curdled in displeasure. "Kerr. Fries. Langstrom, Harris. Dorrance. Tetch," his eyes narrowed. "Nashton." Edward gave him a jaunty wave. al Ghul rolled his eyes, then paused when he saw Penelope. "Ms-"

"Dr. Young," she said matter of fact. "I'm a guidance counselor."

"Oh yes," al Ghul said with a nod. "You replaced Kellerman when he retired. Hopefully, your tenure won't involve getting into a fistfight with another member of faculty over a bag of corn chips." He turned to Strange and Gordon. "Speaking of which, where is Crane?"

Tetch let out a squeak and pointed towards the parking lot. All eyes followed. Penelope let out a gasp. Edward had to stop himself from laughing. Gordon wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Walking up to the entrance, or rather, swaying, wearing a hideous, ill-fitting brown suit and singing an old gospel song, was Jonathan Crane. Selina quickly turned and gave Pamela and Harley a look. "That game was last night, how can he still be this drunk?"

Pamela shrugged. "He only drank half the wine last night. He probably drank the other half this morning."

Selina pinched the bridge of her nose. "Terrific."

Jonathan stopped when he reached al Ghul, Strange, Gordon, and Bruce. He cocked his head to both sides as if considering the men before him. Then he gave al Ghul an awkward salute. "Mornin' Supernintendo al Ghul!" Jonathan then leaned over and puked, narrowly missing al Ghul's alligator leather shoes.

"Good God!" al Ghul shouted, leaping back. He took one smell and his face curdled. "You reek of liquor!"

Jonathan ignored him, instead giving a wave to the gathered faculty. "Mornin' children! How're Y'all?"

"Nice to see his southern drawl is in full force," Edward muttered. "He really is three sheets to the wind."

"Dormouse," Jervis whined. "He'll hurt himself!"

"Fine," Edward sighed. He and Jervis stepped forward and each man took one of Jonathan's arms. "Come on, Jon. Time to sober up."

"We'll have him right as rain," Jervis said, tipping his hat to al Ghul. "Right as rain!" He and Edward practically dragged Jonathan into the building. al Ghul then glared at Gordon and Strange.

"Beautiful," Harvey groused. "The school board hasn't even gotten here and we're fucked."

"Do you normally allow your faculty to show up drunk?" al Ghul demanded.

"Absolutely not," Gordon answered.

"My children have frequently told me that Crane brings whiskey to school grounds," Bruce stated.

al Ghul took a deep breath. "I see," he said. "I see. Are there any more surprises I should be aware of?"

Strange spoke again, holding his hands up in supplication. "None, Superintendent. Crane will be appropriately disciplined, but everyone else will be well-behaved." He turned his rictus grin to the remaining faculty. "Correct?"

Pamela smirked. "Of course, Principal Strange. We'll be as professional as we always are, right Harley?"

"Right a Roonie!"

Gordon felt sick to his stomach. Five more years until retirement. Five more years until retirement...The hell with that, actually. As soon as Barbara graduated next May, he was gone.

"Very well," al Ghul said. "The rest of the school board will be arriving by 9 am. At that time, we will be conducting a tour of the school grounds. We will be dropping in on classes to observe you at work. Anyone else who chooses to behave in as disgraceful a manner as Crane will be sharing his fate. Any questions?"

Kerr immediately raised his hand. "Yoo-hoo! I've got one!"

al Ghul grimaced. "What is it, Kerr?"

"How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?"

al Ghul's left eyebrow began to twitch. "What relevance does that question have here!?"

"You asked for any questions, Superintendent! You didn't say they had to be relevant!" Kerr threw his head back and laughed.

It was only 8:15 AM.

#high school teacher au #gotham rogues #ra's al ghul #someone save jim gordon

[generousqueen21]

The Best of Both Worlds

A/N: Hey Guys!. Do you guys ever like listen to music and then have this whole music video thing in your head? Like you have an OC character in a movie to one of your favorite songs kicking butt or something? Tell me in the comments if you do cause I can not be the only one...Anyone, on a side note, tell me if you guys want me to write a series on this with Dick Grayson cause I got that in mind….the Fluff Princess is signing out!

Masterlist (still updating!)

Request something, or just send me a message to make my day! Everything is open.

Dick Grayson x Reader 

Summary: Forgetting who you are is bad, being shot at is worse, and being blown up is not good at all.

Word Count: 6,140 (heh)

A/N: Selina is inspired by the show Gotham, and is around 15,16.

Harley is inspired from the videogame Batman:Telltale - the whole attitude anyway, and some of the clothing and age.

Pam is inspired by the comics and the Arkham Knight video game - but way less sexualized, obviously.

You are inspired by you, of course. :)

Warnings: People get blown up, if that’s your thing.

Tags: Request if you wanna be tagged permanently!

@jasonsredhoodie

@writingtheworks

@queenayles

Chapter One: Gotham City Sirens

Gotham city harbor was one of the first off-limit zones for all the citizens of Gotham. It was one of the most deadly places in the whole city, full of drugs, guns, crime, and violence. With curfew around 8 p.m. and the docks overrun with corrupt politicians and gangs, no one hesitated to follow the bold “Keep Out” sign posted by one of the boathouses by the vast body of water. So of course, naturally you found yourself hanging off one of the docks there, clinging for your life. 

Choking on water, you pulled yourself out, trying to hang on to the slippery, wet wooden boards keeping you above the freezing icy harbor. Shivering and chattering with the cold, you managed to wiggle your body onto the dock and lay down. You shuddered from the cold and attempted to sit up, laboriously breathing in the chilly sea air. 

The glow of the moon was barely enough light to see yourself. Your arms and legs felt like they had been frozen numb with your left side feeling noticeably bulkier, and the fact that you had been able to pull yourself out of the water was practically a miracle. 

“DIAGNOSTICS CHECK COMPLETE. ALL SYSTEMS STABILIZED.”

The text running through your vision was enough to make you finally completely alert. Glancing down at your arms and legs, your left being prosthetic, brought you one step closer to figuring out who you were. 

Cyborg. Huh. 

“A PERSON WHOSE PHYSIOLOGICAL FUNCTIONING IS AIDED BY OR DEPENDENT UPON A ELECT-”

You shook your head again, urging the text to disappear out of your vision. Trying to keep your heart calm, you took a shaky stand and observed the scene in front of you. 

You didn’t quite remember who you were before, but you doubted that you had ever seen anything like this. The moon shone off the harbor, illuminating the hundreds of boats and vessels and stood waiting by the docks for use. Behind you, the street lights and brightness from the city lit up the sidewalks. 

“GOTHAM CITY IS-” 

Rubbing your eyes, you walked onto the street connected to the docks, attached to a dozen more dock containing vessels. The intense pain in your abdomen was enough to make you want to collapse again. Of all things, you knew you had to eat. But first, you needed a map. 

You focused on calling up a map of the harboring, calming a little when it popped up into your retina, satisfied. Though the street was dark, you carried on, determined not to starve to death the way you had almost drowned. It was one of the many things you would regret, as well as learn. 

Selina cursed, propping her legs up onto the dashboard and pulling at her tight black outfit. She wished Harley would hurry up and start the heater up again already. When was the last time anyone had listened to her?

Pamela Isley, a.k.a Poison Ivy groaned. “Is Harley coming yet or not? Last time we took this long, my babies almost wilted!”

Rolling her eyes, Selina turned around to deadpan the pouting lady. “Yeah, and if we don’t grab this cash, your “babies” won’t have anywhere to live.”

The car finally unlocked, and Harley, a.k.a Harley Quinn, slipped into the driver’s seat. “Yup! Clear as a crystal. Y'all ready to go?” 

Selina took a deep breath, before facing them both with her don't-mess-this-up face. “Ok, listen up. I don’t care that I’m younger than both of you. I’m leading this, and we’re in and out got it? This is Falcone’s men. Just grab the cash they collected from the Falcone’s guns, alright? We don’t want anyone dead, or else everyone will fight over the insurance.”

Pam scowled. “I thought none of us had insurance.” Harley started giggling until it died into a smile with the look Selina gave her.

Selina continued. “I’m serious. We mess this up,” she stressed, looking at Pam, “ I have no promises what will end up of your plants.” Pam shivered and glared at both of them. 

Harley rolled her eyes. “We got this, puddin’.” She reached over in concentration, searching for the button to pop open the trunk, grinning when she finally hit it. The back of the trunk opened up, leaving no time to waste. “Got it! Let’s hustle!”

The women all walked around to the back of the car, slamming doors as quietly as they could to grab their weapon of choice. Selina slapped her whip on the ground, flicking her wrist to stretch it out as Harley grabbed a mega-mallet and twirled it like a baton.

Pamela threw her hands in the air and pulled on one of Harley’s pigtails. “Come on, we don’t have all day!” The three of them crept into the darkness, squinted to be led by the dim light of the city.

Rummaging around in one of the large crates left overnight by the harbor, you failed to find anything edible that could cure your hunger. Your stomach was still continuing to twist and turn, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before you passed out. With having searched nearly every crate at this dock, you walked back into the street, tensing when you heard some car doors slamming closed. There was no one you could see, but you were sure your ears weren’t playing tricks on you.

You could not get caught. With nowhere to go and no one to turn to, someone finding you was not going to end well at all. You picked up the pace, jogging to the next dock and running onto one of the steamboat vessels. 

You ducked behind a crate, peeking over the edge of the box. Barely in your limited line of vision, you managed to make out some shadowy figures walking onto the dock across from you. If you could see them, they would definitely see you if you made a run for it. There was no food you could find. And at that moment, a bullet whizzed by your ear, implanting itself into the mast behind you. 

You were caught. 

“Hey! We got a little girl on deck!” 

A man grabbed onto your ponytail, causing you to gasp from shock sharply. Your whole body had gone numb, but not from the cold. As you flailed your arms to struggle, the man covered your mouth with a rag, muffling your sounds. You managed to knee the man and try and make a run for it, but not before you noticed the number of friends he had. There were at least 15 men on board. The man who had grabbed you ponytail pushed you down, causing to slip and skid down on the deck. Another man slammed his food onto the ground, barely your face. As you struggled to get up, you were pulled up aggressively with your hands suddenly tied behind your back. You barely got a chance to cry out before you mouth was completely stuffed and tied with a rag. You didn’t get far before you were carried into a dark room.

“Falcone men,” Selina whispered, pointing her finger as subtlely as possible. Harley cocked her head.”This many? This must be the big bucks.” Harley squinted further until Pam had to pull her back before she blew her cover. “No wait, do you see that? There’s someone else on there too.” Selina whipped her head toward the boat frantically. 

“Who, Bane? Was that who the gunshot was for?” Pam’s jaw dropped. “No, a little girl. She looks young. Like, really young.” She leaned over, enough to make Harley give Selina a look. Selina rolled her eyes and took a glance, sure enough, finding the girl. 

Selina winced when the rag was pulled over the girl's mouth. When her mother had first abandoned her at a young age, she had been lost and alone in Gotham too. And Pam had lost her parents and lived in the Narrows as well. No one had helped them, and she didn’t know anyone who could, but then again…

Selina cringed, and stood up, tightening her grip on her whip. Pam looked her at her, confused.

Harley tugged at Selina’s suit, urging her to get down. “It’s not time to go yet,” she whispered.

Selina took a deep breath, bracing herself. “We need to help her.” Pam briefly nodded, while Harley pouted, crossing her arms. 

“Harley, come on.” Selina hissed, throwing her arm aggressively to show her the situation. “This isn’t the time to argue.”

Now Harley was pissed, frustration clear on her face. “Mr.J may not hurt you, but last time we missed grabbing the bags of cash from those knuckleheads, he beat me and threw me out the window!” With a great fury, Harley grabbed her mallet at stalked out onto the street.

Pam and Selina sprinted into the street, watching her head onto the dock and talk her noggin of about how she was going to smash “Falcone to bits.” The situation was not unraveling well, but at least Harley now had somewhere to channel her anger. 

The room the men had thrown you in was not only dark but was airtight. You didn’t know where the door was, and you certainly didn’t know how to do a web search in your head. Out of the sudden silence, you heard an angry scream and more gunshots ringing. You froze, shaking out of hunger and fear. Was anyone coming?

When Selina and Pam finally arrived at the boat just moments later, they were quite disturbed to find at least half the men down on the ground bleeding, and Harley swinging her mallet around in a circle, knocking anyone out who forgot to duck.

“I got these men on the left.” Pam pointed, motioning for Selina to take the other side. 

Selina crouched in position and snapped her hands outward, shoving the first’s gun out of the thug's hand and slamming her knee into his stomach as hard as she could. Two shots rang out in quick succession beside her face. The ringing in her ear caused her to lean to left, knocking down the thug and giving her enough time to catch her balance. The cold rush of the wind whipped her face, making Selina more alert than ever. 

Pamela wasn’t struggling much either. Without the guns, the thugs were pretty much pathetic and could barely use their hands to throw an actual right hook. Taking out these guys wasn’t much of a problem. She had managed to make a large quantity of seaweed grow right out of the ocean, and they were currently strangling the men like tentacles. 

When Pam and Selina could both confidently say that the men were knocked out, they weren’t surprised to see Harley cockily waiting with her hands on her hips.

“Come on guys - Pammy, you too? What took so long?” Harley cooed, twirling her mallet in her hand like a baton. “You gotta learn from the best.” Pam and Selina shot each other a look as Harley burst into uncontrollable giggles. A realization came to Selina, and she smacked her forehead with her sudden awareness. “Oh shoot - the girl!” 

Pam’s eyes widened for what seemed the hundredth time that day, and the three villains were set into a frantic mess trying to decipher anything left behind. The salty air and sharp biting of the bitter cold worried Selina even more, with the hopes that the girl hadn’t gone unconscious with the weather and gotten frostbite.

You slipped in and out of consciousness, willing yourself to stay awake. Somehow with the room feeling like a freezer, your whole body’s fatigue was enough to pull you down into a deep slumber. The quiet wasn’t helping you much either. Ironically, if you hadn’t been locked in a room that felt like it was located in the Himalayas, you might feel at peace.

Groaning, you tried to wiggle around in the uncomfortable position you were in. Your bottom had gone entirely numb, and the rest of your limbs were screaming for a good stretch. The room, still with little to no light, wasn’t much to look at - just a pile of empty crates that had already been scavenged by the rest of the men, who, by the sound of it, were probably dead. 

BANG!

You jumped, wincing when you landed on your tingling backside that was stinging with pins and needles. The gunshots had died ages ago...how was there anyone on board?

“Hey, darlin’! Is there anyone in here?” Through the crack at the bottom of the door, you heard a high pitched voice of a woman shouting out nearby. 

“Harley! Just knock the door down!” A younger woman, maybe around 17 scolded. “She’s probably suffocating or freezing to death if she’s in there.” 

“Maybe Pammy’s plants can check if she’s alright,” the woman Harley. You could practically hear the other lady Pammy rolling her eyes. “Harley, my baby’s don’t have eyes, girlfriend.”

The other woman growled, stomping her foot. “Harley!”

“Alright, I’m doin’ it!”

Pammy spoke to you quickly in as composed of a voice as she could muster. “All right, sweetheart, now you’ll want to back up a little-”

Your whole body went into panic mode with the recognition that the door was not going to be opened with a handle. You desperately threw your body to the side the best you could with your hands and legs tied, and braced for - 

“Comin’ through!”

Harley’s mallet swung through the wood door, smashing a hole right in the center. Almost immediately your lungs began soaking in the fresh harbor air; never had oxygen been this sweet.

The mallet swung a second time, this one closer to the handle. Through the faint light, you made a gloved hand reached out to unlock the door from the inside. You finally released the tension from your neck with the relief that you were going to be saved.

The door finally swung open. 

“Oh, god.” A woman with big flowing red hair and thick green eyeliner walked toward you, genuinely concerned. “She’s only a little girl!” Her outfit was on the unconventional side; with a green bathing suit type one piece covered in green leaves and a lighter green pair of tights underneath. The younger girl next to her work a tight black suit, goggles and cat ears, and carried a thick whip. She was glaring at the craziest look one of them all, who was the one called Harley. “Harley” sported pigtails, dyed black and red, and had on a black leather jacket over a black and red corset. Her black and red diamond belt and boots weren’t even the highlight of it all. In her hand, she carried a massive sledgehammer signed with a creepy smile of a red spray paint can. 

Selina walked up to you cautiously, hesitantly, and forced herself to reach her hand out to you.

Oh, god indeed. You looked and were barely 6. 

Pam began gently untieing the rags around your mouth as Selina started hacking at the rope around your wrists. Her initial shock was even more overwhelming than before. The quick glance and fast thinking she had done had barely told her anything about you, and one of those things that she had left to her imagination was her age. Terrifyingly enough, she was very, very off. Even when she and Pam had been younger, they had known never to try and steal from somewhere as full of gangs as the harbor. Things being sold off the black market were constantly circulating here, and though the money stakes were huge, the chance of surviving was not.

Pam and Selina both lifted you by your arms, dusting your wet clothes off the best they could. Weakly, you tried to stand up and rubbed your raw wrists. Stammering, you spoke as loud as you could. “Th-han-k you-u.” Finally, both Selina and Pam could hold back all the questions that had been floating around in their heads any longer. 

“How old are you?” “What’s your name?” “What are you doing here?” “How did they catch you!?”

Harley looked at you for a while, before turning to Selina and talking fast. “Selina, we have to-”

Selina rolled her eyes and shot Harley a look. “Not now, Harley. We have to get her somewhere warm.”

Harley was no longer just sheepish; she was talking with full-on panic. “Selina, I may have-”

Selina continued to glare at Harley while trying to wring out and dry your wet clothes, in the hope you might feel less cold. 

Pam came back looking very, very scared. “Love, you’re not going to like this.” Selina looked at the shiny-eyed woman and sighed. 

“What is it, Pam?” Selina inquired while rubbing her temples. This was just not her day.

Harley hissed, scowling with a warning written onto her face.”What I’ve been trying to tell you, dimwit! When I headed over there poundin’ their heads all the way to the moon, one of them guys had a walkie on them! They got an’ emergency bomb on here somewhere, and Falcone has the detonator, and more men on the way.” Harley huffed, and plopped herself against the wall and passed her sledgehammer from hand to hand, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. Pam nodded at Selina with worried eyes, confirming the worsening of the whole situation.

Selina turned frantically with her head pounding and put her hand on Harley’s shoulder. “How long ago was this?”

Harley shrugged, tugging on one of her pigtails in deep thought. “Maybe….15 minutes ago?”

Selina cursed, yanking her hand back like she’d been burned. Never had a mission gone more wrong.

But never had she ever done something this right.

Selina glanced at you one last time. You had collapsed on the floor again with your teeth chattering with the cold. Your metal prosthetics felt like ice cubes, and your retina censor had already told you several times that your body temperature had dropped significantly. You looked back at her, your eyes full of more fear and hope that she had seen when they had first gotten to you.

Selina shifted back to the others with determination and a fierce desire to survive with no one left behind. “We are not getting caught in here and slaughtered like pigs, alright? We are all getting out here alive.” Selina settled her hand on Pam’s shoulder and looked intensely into her eyes with great confidence. “Pam, I need you and Harley to secure the area. We need to escape as discreetly as possible without any bumps.” Pam nodded, but Harley had already popped her head out.

“Selina, what color did you say his cars were again?” You and the others had already been able to pick out the sounds of two vehicles, with the door slamming audibly.

Selina’s eyes widened with Pam gaping behind her. “Falcone has the detonator. And if he’s here -”

“He could explode this whole dock.” Harley finished quite grimly, with her grip on her weapon so tight, her knuckles were going pale.

THUD!

Everyone in the room jumped as the distant footsteps were getting closer and closer. The thudding was now so close the nearby wooden boards of the ship were creaking.

Harley rushed back to your side and pushed you toward Selina. “Selina, go and hide! Me an’ Pam will teach these bad boys a lesson.”

Taking their positions, Pam and Harley stood on either side of the broken door, prepared to attack at the right moment. Selina grabbed your shoulder and ushered you to the other side of the room, gently pulling you down into an uncomfortable crouch. You tried your best to be ready to sprint, trying to calm the buzzing in your chest and how heavy your head felt with fear. 

A deep raspy voice broke the heavy silence. “Hey boss, we got like 14, 15 men unconscious down here. You on your way?” A quieter “Roger that,” could be heard out of walkie talkie the man on board was holding. The footsteps began up again, getting farther and closer. Harley took a stance, raising her mallet a hair too high and - Bam.

The footsteps stopped. “Hey, whos there? I already heard you! Don’t even try and hide! You’ll be a dead son of a bitch!” Frantic pacing could be heard, with crates being thrown and opened. Everyone in the room winced and gave Harley a look the could have burned her to death if Selina and Pam had tried. Pam shook her head and glanced at Harley, ready to strike. “Are you good?” Harley with a nervous look on her face gave an embarrassed sigh. “Yup.”

The man, 5 ft 8, all bark and no bite, entered in, a pistol clear in his hand. 

Before you could register another thought, Pam grabbed the man’s tacky suit by the lapels and swung him around, smashing his head into the wall. He groaned and lost grasp of the gun, which skidded across the room after hitting the wall. Harley rapidly brought down her sledgehammer on the back of his head, registering him unconscious and very injured. Pam finally let go of him, and he slumped to the ground on his back with a big bruise on his forehead and a nasty nosebleed.

Selina crouched down and picked the gun up off the floor,  ready to empty the barrel, but Harley grabbed it out of her hand and complained.

“He didn’t even use any of the bullets!”

Selina scowled and tried to make a lunge at the pistol, but with Harley wearing massive boots and already quite taller than Selina, keeping out of reach wasn’t really a challenge. “Let the little girl use it.”

Selina groaned, before dropping her head in her hands. “The little girl is maybe what, 5? No one gives a kindergartener a gun, not even a psychopath.” Harley grimaced and put her hand back down to her side. “Hey, sociopath, remember? They’re different.”

Selina made a mocking face back before Pam screamed, “Take cover!”

A dozen gunshots came through the hole in the door, getting Harley in the shoulder and Pam in the arm. Selina grabbed a cover of one of the wooden crates and pulled you behind her. Selina turned her head to look at you and tried to give as much comforting advice as possible. With no parents to raise her properly, emotional support was not her strong suit, but it wasn’t like the others were good at it either.

“Try to stay behind me, ok?  We are going to get you through this!” Another round of gunshots fired, and the men started flooding the room.

The exit was flooded, and at least 5 men had entered. You all had to act fast before even more backup showed up.

Harley began to swing her sledgehammer around, knocking out the guns to the best of her ability, Without a military weapon, they were all just pawns in Falcone’s chessboard, strong in numbers but powerless without firearms. Pam began using her plants and foliage to wrap around some of the men's legs and render them unable to move. However, some of the men were still able to shoot, and one even managed to get out of his bounds, ready to attack. Pam had her hands raised and surging her energy into her plants to control them. Her face was scrunched in concentration, and she motioned to Selina to finish the gunmen off.

Selina took her whip and wrapped the end around the man’s legs, pulling them out under him. He yelped and slipped with his weapon thrown into the air. Harley caught is and began firing at the all the men that were trapped in Pam’s vines.

The whole room was the definition of a bloodbath: there was dried red stains on the wall and on the floor, the crates were covered in bullets, and Harley and Pam needed immediate attention.

Selina didn’t need to think twice. “Let’s get out of here!” You followed the others lead and sprinted out the main room, carefully walking over the blood and bodies scattered throughout the floor. You glanced back at the mess they had created. The ends of your lips twitched, and your eyes brightened ever so slightly. You hadn’t known then, but Selina had seen the look.

Sweet, sweet revenge..

“Halt!”

Harley with Pam right behind her turned around, and Harley screamed with fury. You followed their gazes to the top of the ship, right above the room you all had been in at the top of the vessel. There, in all his former glory, was the tux-wearing, backstabbing criminal himself.

Falcone.

“I doubted girls like you could make much trouble. This kind, anyway,” he cackled, a disgusting glint visible in his eye. He sighed solemnly, clearly enjoying himself. “But now that you ladies have already stolen from me, twice, alas, you all must pay the price.” He wiggled a round, oval-shaped device in his hand, chuckling louder and louder.

The wind had picked up speed now, whipping around dramatically and increasing the tension. Selina began screaming and swearing at him hoarsely, barely hiding the explicit impediment in her voice. “You would never do that, you coward! You would never kill yourself here for revenge!”

Falcone rolled his eyes, beaming with mirth and throwing his hands up in the air, aware of what a drama queen he was. He was loving the suspense of the situation. “Oh, who said I was? I’ll be watching from one of my hundred’s of helicopters, seeing your world turn into ash and flames!”

Selina wasn’t ready to give up, continuing to stall him and running every possible option through her head. “And your money? You get a couple million from your weapons on the black market alone! And they flow through this port!” He had his back on you now and waved his hand at her comment. “I’ll find another one!” He looked up to the sky, ready to leave. The detonator was still resting in his hand.

The helicopter had already arrived, and the bright lights blinded you and the others. You lifted your arm and squinted, trying to see where the bastard had gone, but it was too late. He had already sat himself quite comfortably inside his copter.

Harley shrieked at the top of her lungs, not even waiting for any of you to react. “RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN!!!”

Sprinting at full speed, enough to bring the aching in your legs to burning and make you forget about the cold, the only thing you could think of was getting out. Though you were with the others, you were on your own now. This was your fight, and you were going to get the hell out. Your life was in your hands now. You had needed Selina, Pam, and Harley. Now they needed you.

The situation had turned into complete chaos, with multiple possibilities and outcomes, and your minds were racing too much to accurately compare them all. Thinking of Falcone made his bio appear across your screen, and you quickly skimmed the general public appearances and criminal charges he had faced along the way. Carmine Falcone, if his reputation said anything, was not a risky man. His multi-million dollar empire was built upon careful preparation and executing all the right moves at the right times. Falcone was an aged man had been around Gotham for quite some time, and the majority of the rules of crime had been invented by him. Getting out logically was going to be critical and complex, but learning about the tech in your body could help.

Charging toward Harley's red car, you four yanked the door's open and slammed them hard.

"Harley, start the engine!" Selina jumped into the front passenger seat and began to roll down the windows, peeking outside for any possible new signs of danger. Harley patted her leather jacket down rapidly, feeling for her keys and finally finding them in her right-hand pocket. Her hands shaking, she tried to put in the key 3 times before succeeding and stepped on the accelerator.

"Damn, damn, damn!" The car barely lurched forward, and instead slugging back in forth in the same position. Pam opened the car door, checking the vehicle overall and let out a cry of pain and impediment. She leaned back, looking furious and deep down, just plain failed.

"Someone popped the tires!" Selina screamed and slammed her hands down on the dashboard.

"That little son of a bitch..." She groaned and put her head in her hands, utterly devastated. Finally, she looked up and sighed. Falcone had already sent for more men, and you could hear the cars approaching fast, whizzing along the streets of Gotham.

Thinking fast, you leaned forward between the passenger and driver seat. Harley and Selina glanced back at you, ready to listen.

"Falcone sent more cars with men in them - if we knock enough out," you continued, "We'll be able to find our getaway car quick enough." Harley looked doubtfully at you as Selina shook her head. "Falcone wouldn't care about losing those men. The minute he sees us stealing one of his Bugattis, he'll blow the port up."

The car doors began opening and shutting closed. Backup was already here, and you had 360 seconds to show your plan could work.

"Go!" You yelled getting out of the car. The gun Harley had kept was nestled into your palm, almost fitting perfectly.

Your goal was simple: shoot someone tonight. Just one person.

Pam's powers were simple but effective; the second she managed to wound someone with her hands, their whole body would become infected with her toxin. The victim would start shaking, turning green and in the end, would die with a little plant growing out of their mouths. It was indeed something else. Selina's eyes were open in horror as she became suspended with shock, but she didn't get a moment to respond before Harley jumped in front of her and smashed the man about to shoot Selina in the shin.

"Selina, wake up! You're gonna get yourself killed!" Harley criticized, not wasting a moment and swung her mallet into another man's face, causing him to scream in agony and double over.

Within all the chaos, the sirens didn't get a chance to check on you, but you were busy with something else as well.

You crept up on one of the closer vehicles, hiding behind the trunk. You eyed how the other's were doing and winced at their state. Harley and Pam were bleeding openly and needed immediate attention, and Selina was corned by at least five men with her whip on the ground ten feet away from her. There was no time to lose.

You slid along the side of the car, keeping your back as close as possible to stay out of site. The guy inside was smoking a cigar, muttering to himself about his paycheck. Automatically, your retina began to scan the front seat of the car.

"FIREARM DETECTED: POSITIVE."

Through the car, your scanner highlighted the weapon in blue and could be shown in the man's holster on his left side. Your retina then began to map out possible actions, displaying the best approach to getting this man out without getting hurt. One of them demonstrated a viable plan to attack by shooting through the window.

You glanced down at your gun and waited for your retina to explain how to use it. You began holding the rifle in a firm stance and turned the safety off. Regrettably, the guy in the car had noticed.

"Hey, Hey! What the-" The man in the car had grown extremely annoyed. You backed away from the vehicle, nearly tripping backward and he opened the car door abruptly. He grabbed the gun out of his holster pointing it at you, pulling the trigger.

You screamed, lifting your arm to cover your face, and felt a sudden impact hit your arm. You winced, waiting for the pain, but there was none.

"Oh my god..." The man spoke in shock, glancing at his gun. He had only one bullet for emergency purposes, and it had done nothing. He was just the driver, for god's sake.

You inspected your arms, thoughtfully perplexed. He hadn't fired a blank as you had felt the impact. As you glanced at your prosthetic arm, your jaw dropped.

The bullet was scarcely caught in the metal.

You removed the warm bullet and felt the place on your arm where the bullet had hit, which was a flat dent. Whoever had designed or picked out this arm for you must have known you could have been shot at, which made you wonder even more.

How important were you? Who had you been?

You hardly noticed the man running off your his life so lost in your thoughts. You crouched over rapidly grabbing the gun you had dropped, which now felt awkward heavy in your hand, and pointed the weapon, slipping your finger over the trigger. You weren't even sure where to aim.  His chest? Maybe his heart.

Could you do it? The fact that you were even thinking to spare him was making you furious, and you were drowning in hatred for him and all the other's who had hurt you and Selina, Pam and Harley today. You put your finger on the trigger and pointed

and pointed

and pointed

and pointed. 

You repeatedly told yourself to draw the trigger and grew even more infuriated when you couldn't remember your own name. Seconds, maybe minutes later when Harley came over, you were still ordering yourself to pull it.

"Kid, give me that!" Harley snatched the gun out of your hand as you startled and pointed it on her. She barely let you respond and shot the man in the back of the head. You were shuddering as Pam grabbed the keys out of his back pocket and chucked it at Harley, who hopped into the driver seat and started up the engine. Selina was walking over now, concerned with how disappointed you looked to now have shot that gun yourself. Crouching down, she took your hand and looked into your eyes. 

"You don't want to ever go down that path," she pleaded, shaking her head with a sigh. "I know what it does to people. What you did today was the right thing." 

You bit your lip and nodding, sat inside the car in the back. You had to, though. It was the only way to win in this world. These men, they were on top because they weren't scared to be on that path, and you felt as if that was the only way this would never happen again. 

"Step on it, Harley. Falcone's got his eye on us," Pam warned, sitting in the front passenger seat and began to moan. "My babies! Oh, I knew I shouldn't have brought them into this mess!"

"Hey, will you shut it, Pammy?" Harley ridiculed, rolling her eyes and began to drive, picking up the speed until the car was past 80 miles per hour. 

Selina leaned between the front two seats and elbowed Harley. "Hey, do you want to die AND get a ticket, for both speeding and to Arkham?"

Harley giggled, slowing down to 75 mph. "I got this puddin' you don't worry about a -." 

A flash of light lit up the whole harbor and shook the road. You flew up in your seat, banging your head on the ceiling and wincing, glanced back at the terror behind you. Falcone had done it. He had pushed the button but missed. A jittery feeling began to overwhelm your body as all the cars left on the road, including Harley's red BMW, had already erupted in flames. You shivered, looking at all the fire and heat and how the men must have burned in the flames and -

Suddenly, you remembered. Watching the pieces of ash and clothing floating and drifting through the air, you began to recall why you had lost your arm, remembering a room. You remebered ashes floating, mentally relived the searing heat on the left side of your body. You tried to concentrate and bring more back, but the fire was the only thing able to trigger the memory. 

There was no time to dwell on it now. With the other's fist bumping and cheering, you smiled for the first time that night, and you looked back into the depths of the harbor. A feeling of satisfaction came over you as you watched all these men burn in turmoil. You had finally gotten the revenge you wanted. And the next time anyone came for you?

Well, Karma's a bitch.

#batfamily #batman #catwoman #Selina Kyle #poison ivy #pamela isley #Harley Quinn #BatFam #batfan #batfam headcanon #batfamily headcanons #batboy #batboys #batboy headcanons #batboys x reader #dc comics #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagines #young justice #x reader #imagines #batfamily x reader #dick grayson #bruce wayne #headcanons #batfam headcanons #batfam imagine #robin x reader #darkknight #Gotham

[deamstellarus]

Stranger Things Have Happened (2/11)

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Summary: You’d spent your whole life hiding your ability from the world. When you ended up in a dark alley, you never expected to be saved by Tony Stark. But when you met your soulmate, you knew it was fate.

Word Count: 4207

Warnings: None really, unless you count slight embarrassment 

Chapter 2: Awkward Encounters

          You woke up the next morning with the sun shining on your face. You were so content that the realization that you were not, in fact, in your room in your apartment didn’t occur to you until a few moments later. Then you started to panic, until you heard a voice call out.

         “Miss, your heart rate indicates that you are panicking. Please try to calm down. You are at the Avengers Tower. I have alerted the Boss that you are awake,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, and you suddenly remembered the previous night. Slowly, you got out of bed, your body aching but oddly feeling more refreshed than you have in months. Sliding on the slippers and pulled on a hoodie, went and brushed your teeth with the new toothbrush you found, then cracked open the bedroom door, peeking into the hallway. It was empty as you made your way into the living room, walking up to the giant windows and taking in the view of New York. You’d never seen so much of New York all at once, it was almost calming being so high up above the fast-paced city. You didn’t hear the ding of the elevator, so the following voice startled you.

         “Well good morning, Alleycat!” Tony said, taking you by surprise. You jumped, turned to see him a few feet away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Are you hungry?” You were about to respond as your stomach answered for you in what must have been the loudest growl that echoed in the room. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughed.

         “It would appear so,” you said, pulling at your sleeves.

         “Come along, let’s go to the kitchen and see what Cap is making for everyone.” Right. You were going to meet the Avengers today. Suddenly, you were nervous. They’re just normal people, people who just happened to be superheroes.

         He started back for the elevator but turned to see you still glued to the same spot, feeling unprepared. What if you were intruding on their home? Technically you were. What if they didn’t like you being there? He held out his hand and you hesitantly took it, following him into the elevator. He pressed a button with a big A on it, upon closer inspection you saw it was the Avengers logo. “This is the button for the Avengers common room floor. This is also where the kitchen is located. You can come down here whenever you’d like.”

         The doors opened to a truly impressive common room. There was a 70 inch TV on the wall above a fireplace, facing several large (and expensive) couches. Just like in Tony’s room, there were floor to ceiling windows on the far wall. There was a bar off to the side that looked fully stocked. To the right was a long table that looked like it was able to seat at least twelve, and beyond that was a kitchen, with what looked to be state of the art appliances. There were a few people sitting on the couches, watching the news: a man with longer brown hair, a woman with long reddish hair, and a man that looked...is he purple? You recognized the brunet man though as Sergeant James Barnes, the Winter Soldier. Seated at the breakfast counter was a man with deep, warm skin you recognized immediately as the Falcon, and the man at the stove flipping pancakes was none other than Captain America himself.

         “Look alive people, we have company,” Tony said pulling you towards the kitchen. “Something smells good, Capsicle.” Everyone stopped and looked at you, some doing a double take and you cowered a little behind Tony. When did you get to be so shy? He chuckled. “They don’t bite, Alleycat. Mostly.”

         “Speak for yourself, Stark,” Sam said winking at you. “I’m Sam Wilson.” He said to you, holding out his hand for you to shake. You accepted it and gave him your name.

         “I know who you are,” you giggled lightly. “You’re the Falcon.”

“Ha! See Tony?! What did I tell you? The people love me!” Sam said, to which Tony rolled his eyes.

         “Steve Rogers, ma’am,” Steve said, holding out his hand, and you took it, staring at him in awe. He really was as anatomically perfect as he seemed to be on TV.

         “Over there is Bucky Barnes, the previous Winter Soldier, Wanda Maximoff, also known as Scarlet Witch, and the Vision,” Tony said, gesturing to the people on the couch. You waved a little to them. “Here, take a seat and Cap will get you a plate.” He said pulling out a seat at the breakfast counter for you, then making a beeline for the coffee machine. Even though you’ve only just met him, you’re sure he relies on the caffeine after having spotted the bags under his eyes. He probably doesn’t get much sleep.

         Steve set a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of you and Sam passed you the syrup. They looked at you expectantly, so you grabbed you fork and took a bite and released a small moan. Then stopped, and looked up blushing. They laughed.

         “Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve eaten and this is amazing,” you said after swallowing. “Thank you.”

          “It’s my pleasure, ma’am.” Steve and Tony exchanged a look. You wondered briefly if Tony had told the rest of them about you.

         “Go on and eat up, Selina Kyle. Doc wants to check your progress.” You made a face at the nickname but deciding it could be worse. Guess we’re gonna stick with the cat-theme then. You shrugged and began eating, practically inhaling the food. Under any other circumstances, you’d probably be more embarrassed but you couldn’t find it in you to feel that way at the moment. You finished your food, then thanked Steve and waved to the rest as you followed Tony a little more confidently to the elevator. Once inside he hit the button for the medical wing, then he looked over to you, taking note of your more relaxed state, calmer than you had been when he’d first seen you this morning.

         “You’ll meet Clint and Natasha tonight, Hawkeye and Black Widow, when they get back from their mission. Thor is currently in Asgard, and Bruce is most likely in the lab. Rhodey should be around here somewhere,” he said as the doors opened. He brought you back to the room you’d been in last night, where you formally met Dr. Cho. She looked you over and asked you about any pain you might have. You didn’t have much, you’d been to used to His treatment and had started ignoring the lasting pain that came with the punches. She prescribed you some pain meds just in case and sent you on your way. Afterwards, Tony brought you down to his lab.

         “This is my workshop,” he said proudly. Looking around, you couldn’t help but notice all of the versions of Iron Man suits. There must have been at least 50. The space was large, half of the area dedicated to different inventions, completed and half-done, of Tony’s, along with papers disorganized spread across the tables, knicknacks everywhere you turned, a well used coffee machine, and a couch with a pillow and blanket on it. The other half of the area was neater by far, and housed the projects of Dr. Banner, who was working on a project as we walked in. He waved and gave a small smile, you returned the wave and grinned back. Tony brought you to a stool at one of his tables and handed you a device. It looked like a phone, but sleeker than you’d ever seen.

        “It’s a Stark phone. It’s more advanced than regular phones, and has F.R.I.D.A.Y. already integrated in it. All of our numbers are programmed into it, but you can download anything you want on it. It’s yours,” he said. He looked nervous, like he wanted, no-- needed, your opinion.

         “This is really cool. Thanks, Mr. Stark.” You said smiling. If you kept this up, your cheeks were going to hurt by the end of the day. He visibly relaxed.

         “Great! Now I’m going to work on some things down here and you are more than welcome to stay with us, or you can explore the Tower if you want. F.R.I.D.A.Y. can help you if you get lost.” You nodded.

         “Thank you, Mr. Stark. I think I’ll go look around if you don’t mind,” you said getting up.

         “Please. Mr. Stark was my father. Call me Tony,” he said, gesturing toward the door.

         Once in the elevator you didn’t know where to go. An idea occurred to you. “Uhm, hello? F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

         “Yes, Miss,” the AI responded.

“What types of things are there to do around here?”

         “There is a theater room, and a game room. There’s an indoor pool on the floor with the gym, as well as an outdoor pool with a deck for sunbathing. There’s also a library if you’d like to read.”

          It didn’t take you any time at all to respond that you’d like to go to the library level. You were shocked by the amount of books in the room, you hadn’t thought Tony Stark, technological genius would bother with having a library, much less a well-stocked one. You perused the shelves, finding an old classic and settled down in one of the over-sized chairs tucked in a corner by the window. You got comfortable, too comfortable it would seem, as that’s where Tony found you several hours later. He nudged your shoulder and you jerked awake, blinking the sleep out of your eyes.

         “That’s a good look, Sleeping Beauty,” he joked. You were confused until you felt the sleep marks for the book on your face. So you did the mature thing: you stuck your tongue out at him. He chuckled. “Get up. You haven’t had lunch yet and we don’t need Cap thinking I’m trying to turn you into me or something.” He winked.

         You followed him up to the kitchen, and Wanda was making sandwiches while Vision chopped some veggies to dip in a ranch sauce. Wanda smiled at you when you walked in, passing you a plate. You sat at the table with the rest of the superheroes. Wow, that was a weird sentence. Never before did you believe you’d be in this position. You all were eating quietly, before Bucky broke the silence.

          “So, tell us about yourself,” he said. His demeanor was intense but he had gentle eyes. The rest of the group leaned in slightly.

          “Uhm, well,” you began, not knowing really where to start. “I’m 23, I am a waitress, er was a waitress, I suppose. I had to quit that when He made me start testing.”

          “Who are you talking about, Kitten?” Tony asked. His grip on his mug had gotten a little tighter.

          “My boyfriend, er, well, ex-boyfriend now, Mason Thompson. He found out about my ability a few months ago by accident, and since then has been testing me and working with his bosses to do...I don’t know really. Last night, he took me to meet with them in person at a fancy restaurant, and were making a deal of sorts, but before they could take me, I faked having to go to the bathroom and ran out through the kitchen. I kept running until I stopped to take a breath and then hid in an alley until he left,” you said. You’d been looking at your hands during your story. You looked up then at Tony, “I guess that’s when you found me.”

          Tony nodded, eyebrows furrowed. He looked pale and the grip was so tight on his mug, his knuckles turned white and you were nervous for the mug. You supposed he had more than enough money to replace that one, or several thousand, should he want.

         “Why would they want you? What kind of testing?” Steve asked. Oh, right. They didn’t know about this.

         “I can, uh, transform into different animals, and uhm, people. When Tony found me, I was a cat.”

         If they were surprised, they hid it well. Probably comes with being a superhero, nothing is out of the ordinary when everything is.

         “Would you mind showing us?” Bucky asked, only to get elbowed by Steve, who pulled a face that you would recognize as the Captain America face. Probably had a special voice that accompanied it too. “What?” Bucky asked, rubbing his ribs.

          You shrugged before standing up.

          “You don’t have to, you know,” Tony said, putting his hand over yours, looking worried for the first time since last night. You couldn’t quite put a finger on why but you felt safe here. Maybe it was because you were in a room full of superheroes or maybe it was the compassion they’ve already shown you after only having known you for less than a day. So you nodded but stood up anyway, backing up a couple feet. You took a deep breathe and shifted into a cat, looking up at them and observing their faces. You gave them another moment and then turned into a grey wolf, walking around the table once before shifting into a snake and slithering up next to Sam, who proceeded to jump and fall out his chair. The group laughed as you morphed into Sam, taking a seat in your chair and making the face he had when you’d scared him. Bucky was laughing so hard, he was gasping for air. You shifted back to your normal self and giggled lightly, winking at Sam.

         “Oh I see how it is,” he said taking his seat again. “I’ve got my eye on you.” He pointed to his eyes then yours. You grinned back at him.

         “Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say we will keep you safe from Him,” Wanda said with a smile. The rest of them nodding in agreement, and you were grateful to have been found by this group of people.

         The topic switched off of you and as you finished your food, you were starting to feel a little out of place at the table. As if you were intruding on their space. “If you’d like, I can help you pick out clothes and have them ordered here. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to keep wearing those clothes, they look rather big on you,” Wanda said. It was like she read your mind. You nodded, thankful for something else to do.

         “Oh, before you go, your room is ready,” Tony said. “I put you on Wanda’s floor, if that’s alright.”

         “That’s perfect. Thank you,’ you said as Wanda pulled you out of the room.

         You and Wanda headed to your new room, and when you opened the door, it was similar to the guest room in the penthouse. The biggest difference was the desk that also had a laptop on it. It was perfect. Wanda grabbed the laptop and sat on the bed. You joined her and began looking for clothes that fit your style. In an hour, you had a full wardrobe picked out, ready to be delivered tomorrow morning. You looked at the price and the realization of where you really were and what that meant for you started to overwhelm you. You don’t don’t deserve all of this attention.

        “Don’t worry about the price. Tony is more than willing to spend it on you, and has more than enough money to spare,” Wanda said, sensing your worry. “It’s okay, there’s no need to feel undeserving.” But how did she--? Wanda smiled. “It’s part of my abilities. I can read minds and sense emotions, among other more...powerful...things.”

         Wanda patted your shoulder. She wanted to go out to the common room, but you told her you wanted to take a shower but you’d meet her there in a little while. She left and you took a deep breath. Maybe that was all you needed to relax and accept this new reality. After your jasmine-scented shower, you put on the fresh clothes you found in the drawers. They still dwarfed you but you felt better than you had in such a long time. You pulled a comb through your long, wet hair, slid on the slippers, and made your way to the common room.

         You found Wanda on one of the couches cuddled up next to a slightly stiff looking Vision. They must be soulmates, you think. You weren’t quite sure what to make of him yet; he doesn’t talk much. The other couches contained Steve and Sam on one, while Bucky scowled at Sam from the other. You chuckled softly as you made your way into the room. You felt their eyes on your exposed arms and crossed them, trying to hide the largest bruise on the inside of your right arm. Not quite sure where to sit, you hovered near them until Bucky patted the spot next to him, putting his arm on the back of the couch. You took a seat and fell immediately into him. Embarrassed, you sat up and scoot a little away from him, but he gently pulled you back.

        “I don’t mind, doll,” he said with a smile, and you could instantly understand why he was considered a ladies’ man before the war. You’d been to the exhibit of Captain America and the rest of the Howling Commandos, of course, but nothing had prepared you for seeing Bucky’s grin in person. You didn’t think it’d be so soon after Him that you’d feel comfortable this close to another man, but there was none of the men in this room had reacted nearly the same nor made you feel like an object since they’d seen your ability.

         You relaxed into his side and the six of you watched some made-for-TV-movies when the elevator dinged. You thought nothing of it until a loud voice called, “Hey! Who ate all my chips? Wilson!?”

         Not expecting the outburst, you morphed unconsciously, cowering next to Bucky. You felt their eyes on you, but your attention had been drawn to the new people in the room.You watched as a woman with red hair and a body that most would kill for walked into the room. Following close behind her was man who had dirty blonde hair, and a bow and a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. Black Widow and Hawkeye, the latter of whom was holding a now empty bag of barbeque chips.

         “Did you hear me?” he asked. “What are you all looking at?” He looked down to see your fluffy body on the couch. “When did we get a bunny?” He knelt down to pet you. “Well, aren’t you a pretty bunny,” he said smiling.

          The rest of the group couldn’t help but laugh, while the two assassins stood there looking confused. You, on the other hand, were mortified. Not only had you met two more Avengers in animal form, but one of them just so happened to be your soulmate. At least he said the words on your ribs. You got up and hopped out of there as fast as you could to the elevators that thankfully opened as you approached them. When you were safely hidden inside, you changed back and took deep breaths, trying to calm down. You got to your floor and crawled into bed, hiding under the covers, hoping the bed would swallow you whole.

         You don’t know how long it had been but you woke to the sound of a knock at your door and then the door opening. Tony stepped in and gently shut it behind him. He carried a tray with what looked like Chicken Parmesan.

         “Hey, kiddo. You alright?” he asked, awkwardly setting the tray on the desk. You shrugged. “I know you hadn’t planned to meet them this way, but even Legolas is kicking himself for scaring you away.”

         “It wasn’t just that,” you hesitated, not knowing if you should tell him. He waited, and you wondered if he was normally this patient or if this was new for him. “Uhm, he kinda, said my words…”

         A look passed over his face. “Oh. Huh. Did you, uh, say them back?” You could have smacked yourself. Of course you hadn’t thought to say anything back, too embarrassed in the moment. You shook your head.

         “I ran off before I could say anything. He probably thinks I’m just some stupid girl.” You fell back onto your bed, pulling a pillow over your face.

         “Alright, no more self-deprecating remarks. That’s not who you are.”

         “You don’t even really know me.” You said into the pillow. You winced, glad your face was hidden.

          He replied without missing a beat. “Hm, be that as it may, Grumpy Cat, I am a good judge of character.” With that he opened the door, but before he stepped out, he said, “Just remember, you can’t stay in here forever, nor can you hide from a master assassin.” He shut the door behind him and for the rest of the night, you contemplated what you were going to do about Clint. Your soulmate.

          By morning, you’d decided Tony was right, you couldn’t stay in your room forever, nor hide from the assassin for too long. But why rush to him when you didn’t have to, right? Damn, when had you become such a baby? I suppose a few months of living with Him would change anyone.

“Where are the Avengers currently, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Captain Rogers is in the gym with Mr. Wilson, Sergeant Barnes, and Ms. Romanov. Ms. Maximoff and Vision are in the common room. Boss is the lab with Dr. Banner. And Mr. Barton is the shooting and archery range.”

“Thank you.” Alright. Well you suppose you could go down to sit with Wanda, but you might be intruding on the soulmates’ time together so you thought against it. Maybe you could sit in and watch the rest of them train, or would that be weird? There was a knock at your door and several workers carrying boxes greeted you. You opened the first one and realized it was the clothes you and Wanda had ordered yesterday. You dug through the boxes and pulled on a pair of leggings, a sports bra, and a thin pullover. Pulling your hair into a long braid, a la Katniss, and sliding on a pair of flats, you decided to chance it.

You headed down to the gym level, only to see Clint walking toward a door leading to the locker rooms. You hid behind a pillar until he was out of sight, and then let out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Maybe you should just go back? You were about to turn around when you saw something shiny out of the corner of your eye. There was a vent next to the gym entrance, the door was slightly opened. What if…? No, that would be too weird, right?

         Against your better judgement, you morphed into a cat, and quickly ran across the floor to the vent, nudging it open with your paw. You climbed inside, up and over, following the voices and grunts you could hear from what you assumed was the gym. There were several other vents leading into the gym but you chose the middle of the five. Looking through the grates, you could see Steve spotting Sam on the weight bench, while Natasha and Bucky sparred on the mats. Was she winning? She was. That’s someone you would not, could not, cross.

         As you watched them dance around the mat, you didn’t here the slight shuffling of someone coming up beside you, until they coughed to get your attention. Jumping away  as much as you can in a vent, you turned to see what...who... made the sound. Clint. Just your luck. He looked at you expectantly. You changed back into your normal self and looked just fast his face, not quite looking into his eyes.

         “So, uh, you come here often?” You offered, wincing at how stupid you sounded. His eyes widened as realization flickered across his face.

         “Actually, yes…,” he said, to which you made a mental note to ask about that later as he followed that by saying, “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but are you my soulmate?”

          Your mouth dried up. You closed your eyes and nodded, embarrassment flooding through you, face on fire.. You felt one of his hands cup your cheek. You opened your eyes meeting his blue-green gaze. “It’s alright to be afraid of the unknown. We don’t have to rush into anything. But I would like to get to know you. You know, I always thought I’d meet you at a bar or something,” he laughed. “I’m Clint, by the way.”

         For the second time that day, you could have smacked yourself at how awkward you are. You told him your name. His smile was easily your favorite thing about him.

#clint barton x reader #soulmate au #soulmates #fluff #angst #mutant powers #avengers fic #marvel fanfiction #Stranger Things Have Happened

[audreycritter]

Serving Sizes Are a Myth

Gen/Family Bonding 2242 Words Fluff Stephanie Brown, Bruce Wayne  AO3 Link CEC Universe

Serving Sizes Are a Myth

The study is quiet when Stephanie Brown notices Damian Wayne standing in the doorway, looking in at her on the couch and Bruce leaning back in his office chair. Damian’s expression is hard to read, maybe boredom, and he observes them for a minute before speaking.

“I was instructed to inform you that it is dinner time,” Damian says.

“Ugh,” Stephanie says, slumping against the arm of the couch. “Hard pass, but thanks.”

“Tell Alfred we’re skipping dinner,” Bruce says.

There���s a flash of surprise on Damian’s face and then he asks, “Shall I tell him you are ill?”

“I already ate,” Stephanie says, sighing. “And now I’m sick.”

Damian vanishes from the doorway.

“Please don’t vomit on the antique rug,” Bruce says, stretching his legs out on the desk and reclining the chair. It looks like a precarious angle for something with caster wheels, but he keeps it in one place. Stephanie, still hanging over the arm of the couch, is suddenly a little sad that she hardly ever sees him this relaxed and also irrationally angry at his sense of balance. For a brief moment, she wants to leap over the side of the couch and kick the wheels.

She doesn’t move.

Footsteps in the hall, sharp and clicking against the wooden floors, announce Alfred before he enters the room.

“Master Damian said you might be ill,” he says, his polished voice somewhere between worry and suspicion.

“Not ill,” Bruce says. “Steph might be close.”

Alfred’s quick strides carry him across the room in a blink and he’s holding one wrist out to hold against Bruce’s forehead, like Bruce is merely a child, when he catches sight of the contents of the desk trashcan. He freezes.

Stephanie watches languidly, thinking she’d prefer it if she never had to move again.

“Girl Scout cookies,” Alfred says in a hollow tone. “I’ve made maple pork roast and you’re electing to forego it for biscuits.”

“I ate a whole box of Thin Mints,” Steph says from behind the butler, whose spine is rigid as he glares at Bruce.

“She did,” Bruce says, with a hint of admiration.

“Bruce had a box of Samoas and half a box of Tagalongs,” Steph adds, with a similar vein of respect. “I thought for sure the first box would do him in.”

Alfred is thin-lipped now and Bruce has the sense to look slightly apologetic.

“I forgot you were making roast,” he says.

“This is…childish nonsense,” Alfred says in weary resignation.

“It’s a seasonal vice,” Bruce shrugs and closes his eyes.

“A seasonal vice is eggnog,” Alfred snaps, swinging back toward angered. “This is a dalliance with garbage.”

“Al,” Steph says and he turns to look at her, one eyebrow raised. She’s watched Tim falter under that frown. “This is like, one piece of common ground we’ve found in how many years? Don’t talk him out of it. Please.”

Alfred’s expression softens, gradually and minimally. “Very well,” he says. “I will leave you to your idiocy and you can fend for your own dinners when your appetites return.”

“You’re a good man, Alfred,” Bruce says and the butler looks mildly placated.

“Do not sweet talk me, Master Bruce,” he says nonetheless. “I am not beyond giving the roast to the dogs if there is a hint of patronizing from a man whose bottom I diapered.”

“I think it’s time to let that go,” Bruce says, sounding a little pained.

Stephanie grins unabashedly at him.

“Perhaps I will be able to, if you let go of such infantile behavior that I am forced to recall the span of years it has been since those days, to reassure myself.”

“Am I childish?” Steph asks.

“Your relative youth excuses you,” Alfred says, managing to make even this sound like a slight rebuke.

Stephanie still thinks it was worth it anyway.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a dinner to serve.” Alfred leaves the room without another word and Stephanie slouches against the cushions of the couch.

“He was pissed,” Stephanie says, feeling a little bad now in the wake of it.

“Yes,” Bruce agrees. “Damn. Roast of all the nights.”

“Do you have regrets?” Stephanie asks, looking over and curious now. She knows from being around long enough that by tomorrow, Alfred will let such a small offense drop and Bruce will apologize in some way without words but with mutual understanding.

For all her self-doubt, Steph has watched and observed and she knows she’s not a stupid person.

“Je ne regrette rien,” Bruce answers. A second later, he opens his eyes and regards her. “You?”

“Nope,” Steph says. “Honestly? I wasn’t even paying attention. I was just doing that stupid homework until I reached for the tray and they were gone. They’re so addictive.”

“Sudoku,” Bruce says, motioning to the desk.

“Huh,” Steph says. “You were doing that bitchy thing with your mouth. I thought it was office stuff.”

“I have,” Bruce pauses, “a ‘bitchy’ thing I do with my face?”

“You and Tim both,” Steph says, reaching out with one foot and flipping her psychology notebook shut. “It’s eerie.”

“I think you’re making this up,” Bruce says, eyes narrowing.

“If you don’t believe me, ask Selina,” Steph says with a wave of her hand. “You do it when you’re wearing the you-know-what at night. She knows.”

“I’m not discussing this with Selina,” Bruce says, his words a little hard and warning. Steph matches his slight glare and then turns her head to stare up at the carved trim along the ceiling.

“Your loss,” Steph says casually.

When she sneaks a glance, he’s pretending to read something on his phone. A moment later, he throws it on the desk and grumbles.

“I’m not upset I ate the whole box,” Steph says in the silence that follows. “And I’m not gonna puke because I hate it. But it might be a while before I can move again, fair warning.”

“No judgment,” Bruce replies.

“Now you’re the one making stuff up,” Steph shoots back without thinking. But instead of glowering, Bruce laughs.

“How are you doing?” he asks a second later and Steph is caught so off-guard she doesn’t process it immediately.

Then she motions at herself, slouched on the couch and wearing old leggings and a baggy, faded hoodie with chewed strings. Her hair is in a messy bun and she didn’t even bother with make-up for just running cookies over to the manor and doing homework. There’s a faint bruise on her right cheek from a fight.

“Sorry, was there anything about this,” she asks, “that gave you the impression that I am not perfect at all times?”

“Your sweatshirt has holes in the sleeves,” he says, without looking.

“For my arms, stupid,” Steph says with a smirk.

“In the cuffs,” he says.

“For my thumbs! Those are intentional! They’re even hemmed,” she says, holding her sleeve up in protest and wiggling her thumb as proof. “God, it’s like you’ve never worn a normal shirt.”

“Don’t call me 'God,’” he answers. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

Steph bites her lip so he doesn’t have the satisfaction of knowing he made her laugh.

“I’m fine,” she says after he closes his eyes again, still leaning back in the desk chair. “Why?”

“Cass is out of the country,” Bruce answers without moving. “Tim’s been at the office a lot. Every time I see you out of suit, you’ve got homework you’re working on. This should come as a surprise to you, but there are areas where I am not an expert.”

“I had no idea,” Steph says dryly. “You had me completely fooled.”

“Checking in on people is one of my weak spots. I’m working on it.”

“I’m just practice then,” Steph says flippantly, to hide the wary warmness in her heart. She’s often mad at herself for wanting him to care at the same time she stills holds out hope for it, even though he’s not her father and never has stepped into that role like he did with Cass. Stephanie knows it’s complicated; there were other factors, not the least of which were her own parents and her early relationship with Tim.

“I have to practice somewhere,” he says.

“Want me to pretend to be distraught?” she asks.

“Only if you think it will be helpful. I won’t say I’m looking forward to it,” Bruce answers. There’s a brief pause and he says, “Really, Stephanie. Are you doing alright?”

“Yeah,” she says, looking down at her hands sitting in her lap. “I’m tired and busy but I’m okay.”

“Good,” he says. “Let me know if that changes.”

“Okay,” she says quietly. “Thanks.”

The silence that follows feels less strained that she is expecting it to and it is then that she realizes it is because she doesn’t feel the pressing need to escape. This house, which used to feel so foreboding and oppressive to her, is now sort of homey in its vastness. She’s gone from being on her guard in almost every room to being able to expect welcome and someone to talk to or hang out with.

After years of understanding she was on the fringe of belonging, fighting even for that spot on the outer rim, it’s startling to blink at the homework spread on an expensive teak coffee table and comprehend how much things have changed almost without her noticing.

She walks in the house without knocking, crashes in Cass’ room when she’s beat, helps herself to food, studies while coasting on the padded cable TV subscription. She no longer waits for Tim or Cass to insist she come over, she picks up Damian for random excursions, she hauls her laundry over without asking when her washer breaks like it does once a month. When her car makes expensive noises, Jason looks at it for her, and Dick spars with her while she waits. Alfred sends her back to campus with leftovers and Dev always seems to know when she needs ice cream or a chat.

She’s not used to Bruce asking how’s doing, that’s for sure, but even her long-coddled frustration with him has faded to acceptance and an understanding that despite the past, if she needs help, he’ll show up.

And even if she’ll go eat dinner with her mom and go shopping for shoes or complain about school, Steph realizes that this tall manor that used to annoy her has sort of become a lot like home.

A lot, lot like a home.

She swallows and blinks back tears, internally cursing hormones, and sits up to straighten out her textbook and notebook.

“What class?” Bruce asks and some part of her brain hears Tim’s voice in her head from the time she overheard him arguing You can’t just be a Bard, it’s a useless class, I don’t care if it is a mod with Dev.

“Psychobiology of Sleep,” Steph answers, flipping her textbook open and shut idly. “It’s actually really interesting. This isn’t an official diagnosis, but I don’t think Tim ever moves past the first sleep stage.”

“I rarely do,” Bruce says. “On purpose.”

“Of course you would know how to do something like that,” Steph mutters. “I don’t think I have to tell you that’s, like, crazy unhealthy, right?”

“I am aware,” Bruce says. “But I’m still alive.”

“If you tell me you’ll sleep when you’re dead, I think I’ll puke on the rug just to spite you,” Steph says picking up her notebook and scanning the page of notes she just made. She sighs and reads the vocabulary list again. “Ugh. I may have minor regrets. I don’t even want to know how many calories it was.”

“1280 for you. 1470 for me,” Bruce answers.

“I said I don’t want to know!” Steph exclaims, putting her hands over her ears.

“With as much as you’ll burn off on patrol, does it matter?” Bruce asks, amused.

“Probably not,” Steph says, lowering her hands and reading the terms again without feeling like she’s comprehending any of them. Even just glancing at the descriptions of sleep stages makes her drowsy. “I think I’m going to take a nap. Can I sleep here or should I drag myself up to Cass’ room?”

“Here is fine,” Bruce says, standing and stretching. “I’m going to go eat dinner if Alfred will let me.”

“There is something wrong with you,” Steph says seriously, throwing her notebook back on the table. “Like sometimes I think you’re probably not human. And if you weren’t human, how would you even know for sure?”

“I’ve told Tim I’m not a robot,” Bruce says, capping the pen on his desk.

“That’s what a robot would say,” Steph says, stretching out all the way on the couch.

“That’s what Tim said,” Bruce answers. “Have a good nap.”

“I’m texting Dev! I’m asking how certain he is that you’re organic matter from earth. He’d know.”

“He’d cover for me,” Bruce says, flicking the study light off.

“Bruce?” Steph says, pulling her hoodie up to block out residual light.

“Hm?”

“Thanks for gorging yourself on cookies with me.”

There’s a long silence and Steph starts to think he didn’t hear her, or already left the room.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for bringing them over.”

Steph grins. “Same time, next year?”

“I’ll put it on the calendar,” Bruce says and then the door shuts behind him.

Stephanie decides that she doesn’t have any regrets after all.

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