this was supposed to be a drabble, but fuck it, we ball.
bassed off of this.
warnings: gotham. moral of the story is don’t walk the streets of gotham alone at night
——
"i don't get it," you say into the phone that's pressed in between your ear and shoulder. your best friend on the other line hums in agreement. "it's like he's living like a double life y'know? rich corporate dude by day, and then some sort of street thug by night."
she laughs on the other end. "that would be an interesting movie plot. but for real, i'm glad that i'm not in your shoes, no offense-"
"none taken,"
"-i'd drive myself insane trying to figure out who my soulmate was."
you shake your head, smiling, "careful, keep talking like that and you'll end up in arkham."
her laugh fades for a second before coming back to the phone. "speaking of which, has your little thug boyfriend run across the batman yet?"
you shake your head, not that she can see anyways, "no, not yet. i wonder what that would be like though. maybe then he'd stop running around in the streets like an idiot."
"a little intervention by the bats?"
"totally," you laugh. you glance back at the little wall clock you had, groaning. "i'm gonna have to go, gotta head to work. talk to you tomorrow?"
"okay, stay safe, byeee," you could hear the sound of her kissing on the other end, you doing the same before ending the call and getting ready for work.
—
by the time 4 am had rolled around you had finished your shift and were steadily making your way back home. was it risky to walk alone in the dead of night in gotham? yes. but at least you have your pepper spray.
the streets are dimly lit, casting an orange hue onto the pavement. the second you turn the corner you could already tell something was off. your hand reaches into the bag, pulling out your pepper spray, uncapping it.
your eyes shift around, scanning the area in front of you when a hand reaches out, pulling you back by your shoulder. you hit the persons chest, instinctively pulling back to see who it was.
some street thug who looked like he hasn't taken a shower in days gives you an eerie smile, sending shivers down your body and paralyzes you.
"don't cha' know betta then to walk around at night?" his nasally voice makes you want to recoil into yourself. his rancid cigarette breath doesn't help when he speaks up again.
"hey, i'm talkin' ta yah. you not gon' answer me." he steps forward and you step back in fear. "what? you think you too fuckin' good?"
he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade. "no like's a fuckin' bitch, yeah?"
before he could do anything, he stops, looking past you. you find the courage to turn, craning your head at the shadowy figure, spotting the symbol on his chest.
batman.
his eyes lock onto yours and you take a sigh of relief. he grunts, softly grasping your shoulder and pushes you behind him. only, when his hand makes contact with you, a white flash comes over your eyes and when it all fades away your met with the thugs face.
except, it's like you're in another persons body.. sort of how when you and your soulmate see out of the others eyes...
you watch as the thug gets beaten into a pulp in an all familiar way, now finally taking notice of the gloves he always wore and how thee thug rasps his name.
by the time the beating is finished your sight has returned to you and you stare into batman's back, your heart racing. he turns, and by the look in his eyes he knows too. he steps back to leave, but you're quicker.
"wait," you reach out, your hand just briefly making contact with his gloved hand. but it's enough for your sight to switch, momentarily seeing your own shocked face from a higher angle.
it was the batman.
"no fucking way," is all you're able to say. your soulmate wasn't a rich street thug.
i tired to make the creepy dude have a new york /jersey accent, but i've never written one before so it's probably shit lol.
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