#batman face paint easy

[elletheactualmenace]

Was it Worth it?

Pairing: Bruce Wayne(battinson) x fem!reader

Summary: A night out turns disastrous, but somehow it brings you and Bruce closer

Warnings: Bruce being unsure how to behave around you, injuries, explosions, destructed building, worried Bruce, tears, talk about your past relationship with bruce, actress!reader, ambulances and police cars

Word Count: 3.9k

a/n: Sorry this took so long to post. I hope you enjoy this next part! Looking forward to continue writing this.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

“Bruce and Y/n Wayne have arrived at the charity auction in what looks to be one of Mr Wayne’s new cars from the most recent vintage corvette catalog.”

“That car is very pretty, and I think we can say the same about Y/n. She’s looking stunning as always”

“Well of course, with a wonder like that, Bruce Wayne would be in the wrong not to spoil his wife.”

“Haha, I agree. I also heard that he has already sold some of his more expensive model cars for tonight's charity.”

“Oh yes, that's right, he's ahead of the game,” The reporters laugh as you and Bruce begin walking towards the crowd of reporters and paparazzi.

“Mr Wayne!”

“Mrs Wayne, Mr Wayne, over here!”

“On your left Mr and Mrs Wayne!”

“Mrs Wayne! Show us the dress!”

“Stunning!”

The hoard of reporters and paparazzi crowd at the edges of the red velvety rope, separating them from you and your husband.

The paved walkway holds many people of high importance and wealth in the city. The board of public safety, the mayor, and more.

Bruce never has enjoyed big gathering events. Even with you at his side, he loathes the conversations, and the passive aggressiveness of it all.

You and your husband continue walking farther along the carpet, getting closer to the doors of city hall.

“Excuse me Mr Wayne! Do you have any comments on the new rumors of you and Batman's partnership?” You can feel Bruce's body tense and his senses sharpen at the mention of his alter ego. The reporter holds out a microphone and there is a cameraman directly behind the reporter.

Since you came into Bruce’s life his publicity has gone up through the roof. Bruce has been more active in his public life and it his business. You helped him open up. And for that everyone was grateful.

“No comment at the moment.” You can hear Bruce state just loud enough for the microphone to pick up.

“Now is not the right place or time,” You speak with a sweet smile. “This is for the children. Let's leave business talk for business hours.” 

You pull Bruce away from the reporters with a furrowed brow. He can tell you are annoyed at the question. It is the only thing you’ve been getting asked about for the past two weeks.

——

“Come on,” You mumble to Bruce as you walk to the table with your names. A white sheet claiming your spots on the round table. It's a charity auction put on by the new mayor, for children in need. As an orphan himself Bruce didn’t argue about going.

Bruce pulls out your chair and you sit. Once you are settled he sits in his seat. His hand stretches out to grab yours, but he stops himself. He doesn't know if you’re both there yet. Usually at events like these you would always be right there with him, holding his hand or touching him in some way. But he's trying to learn to not expect that attention as much. So, instead he rests his hand on his thigh, it's the closest he can get to your hands which are situated on your lap.

In all honesty you almost reached over too out of habit. But it is easy for memories of her face on flashing screens to cloud your vision. So you leave your hand in your lap, squeezing the other for comfort.

As people find their seats the lights begin to dim. Someone walks on stage to the stand, introduces himself, thanks everyone for coming, and begins the bidding. Too in your thoughts to pay attention, you take a sip of your champagne. 

People begin bidding money for antiques, paintings, expensive wine, rare collectables, and more. You and your husband both agreed to begin your bidding at the end, knowing the goods offered are always more expensive at the end. More money to the children was your conclusion.

“Do I hear a 15,000?” The auctioneer asks the crowd. You lean over to whisper something in Bruce’s ear.

“Bruce,”

He turns his head slightly so you know he's listening but keeps his eyes on the front of the room.

“I'm going to head to the bathroom, won’t be long.” You quietly push your chair out. You pause wondering if you should kiss him goodbye. You always do when leaving, but because of everything, you aren’t sure if you should. But then again there are reporters everywhere. What if someone sees and twists the story? Well, you think, their story might not be so twisted. You don’t give it another thought as you lean down and quickly peck his cheek before heading to the ladies room.

Bruce could sense the hesitation before the kiss, and with all his heart he wished it was real, even if his mind knew it would never be. But, even just a sliver of the past made his heart swell and beat rapidly. A small smile formed on his lip, which he quickly pushed away trying to listen to the auctioneer.

“And sold!” The auctioneer says into the microphone as the painting rolls away. 

The further you get the quieter the halls become. Your heels make a click with every step on the marble floors.

The halls are long, and seem to go on forever. You hate to admit that you're a bit lost. But you think if you just keep walking you might be able to find someone who can help you, or, if you're lucky, the bathroom.

You’re mindful of where you are, making sure you at least will be able to somewhat recognize the halls on your way back. You hate being lost, especially in such a high status place.

Before you and Bruce got together, your parents had been friends. You two never talked much before the accident, but you knew of each other. There was no specific reason for your lack of friendship, other than the fact that he didn’t talk much and you thought boys had cootie.

When his parents died, your parents would force you to hang out with him, which didn’t take a lot of convincing because you felt terrible that he went through what he did. Being forced together all the time helped your relationship grow. Even if only platonic.

At first he didn’t trust you. You didn’t blame him. So you ignored the mess he was. You ignored his sloppiness and rudeness and were kind. Slowly you became friends, you told him about your hopes and dreams and in turn he did the same. 

At fourteen you told him you wanted to become an actress and be on the big screen. And he didn’t tell you that you wouldn’t make it like everyone else had, but he supported you, even if it was in his closed off way. 

When you turned sixteen Bruce attended your birthday party. It was so sweet, and thought full of him, especially due to the fact that you and him were going through a rough patch, which, when you were young, was something that happened a lot in your relationship. He attended with all of your other friends and even your crush at the time, though he hated talking to new people. He even offered to get you a car to make up for his cruel words during the fight, but you had to tell him a multitude of times that it was unnecessary. And that all you wanted was for you both to stop arguing.

You were beyond happy that day, but didn’t understand why he would put himself through that party for you. At the time you were too naïve to see that all he wanted was to see you smile, even if it was with the boy you liked and not him.

When you were seventeen you told him all about how you got into your dream college. He was so happy for you, that was until you told him you would have to go and live far away. But he didn’t let it show. He just smiled and waved you off at the airport with a heavy heart.

When you got your first roll in a movie he heard about it on the news. Not from you. You both had been too busy with your new lives to keep us with your old ones. It made him long for the past.

During the premier of your fourth film you finally saw Bruce again. He was older, so were you. He looked so put-together and grown up. You were impressed by his change from boy to man. When you attempted to talk to him, he shut down the conversation immediately. You learned over the next couple of encounters that it would take a lot of work to get back into his good graces.

it was as if everything you had worked for over the years had fallen. It was like you didn’t recognize him, and he didn’t recognize you. You understood that Bruce was not a trusting person, and that the time away had caused a shift in his view on you, but you were determined to get your childhood friend back. It took a lot of work to get back to where you were, but you didn’t stop, knowing that all the work would be worth it. You were right.

And slowly, he opened up again. Trusted you again. Loved you again. During your efforts, Bruce had convinced himself he didn’t need you, but, boy, was he wrong. He hadn’t realized how much he needed you in his life until you were gone. The more he opened up the more he saw that. And god, did he miss you.

After almost a year and a half of working to get closer to him, he caved and did what 16-year-old him would have pissed his pants to do. He asked you out. And long story short, it worked out in his favor.

You continue walking until you see a door with the image of a cartoon woman on it. You push the door open and step into the ladies room.

There is a large, long mirror against the wall with a lone sink under it to the right. Five faucets evenly laid out along the sink. You turn to the stalls on the left. Making pushing the door open to step in.

Once you finish you walk over to the motion sensor faucet, pumping soap into the palm of your hand.

The door opens and a woman walks in. You recognize her, but don’t feel the need to make conversation in the bathroom. But she has other plans.

“Mrs. Wayne, I’m so happy we can finally talk.” The woman says, and your eyes lift from your soapy hands to meet hers in the mirror.

“Mayor Real,” you smile politely. She had recently become mayor as far as you could tell, she was doing a fantastic job.

“I’m sorry for the inappropriate meeting place, I’ve just been anxious to get to speak to you again.” Mayor Real said, taking something out of her handbag. Makeup to touch up her face.

“No need for the apology, I’m sure if we talked anywhere else someone would bombard us.” You chuckle, and she, along with you.

“What did you want to talk about?” You ask as you rinse off your hands. 

"I wanted to make better acquaintance with you,” she said simply. The first time you had met was at the prior mayor’s funeral, the one the Riddler attacked.

“The first time we met was not the best of circumstances.” Mayor Real added lightly. You nod with a sad smile to her. 

You walk to dry your hands with the paper towel provided.

”From what I’ve seen you're a good person, and it's good to know good people.” Real puts her makeup back into your handbag.

”Mayor Real-”

”Bella, please.” She cuts you off, correcting you.

”Bella,” You correct yourself with a smile, turning to her. “If you’re asking if we can be friends, then just say that.” You chuckle lightly. Bella looks a bit embarrassed but smiles anyway.

”Right. Friends then?” She asks.

”Of course.” You grin back. “Walk back with me?” You offer heading to the door. Bella follows after you happily.

You once again begin your walk down the long echoey hall. Now the sound of heels on marble doubled. You make idle conversation, trying to make her more comfortable with you. You don’t like the fact that some people find you unapproachable, because really your husband is unapproachable, not you. But it’s really not his fault, he’s just not good with people. But you, you know how to talk to people, and you think it’s odd that people are frightened to talk to you.

“Bella?” You ask putting your hand out infront of her, stopping her from going any further. Her brows furrow as she looks at you.

“What is-“

Your body is thrown to the ground. Everything happens as if it's in slow motion. Blinding white light flashes over Bella and you. It is like the bright white of light on freshly clean hospital sheets. It stings your eyes shut.

Next comes the shards of broken marble and concrete. Like needle pricking your skin. A wave of rubble and dusty pieces of brick scatter around you. On instinct your hands reach up to protect your head. Your ears ring and the pounding of your heart is louder than ever. It's like a movie, but everythings so much more confusing. 

You feel the coldness of marble on your hot skin. And you hiss as a headache pricks your eyes. Your head, still turned toward the floor from your fall, rises. You look around, trying to understand what happened. One second you were walking with Bella the next you're on the cold floor with a pounding headache and ringing ears.

Your eyes are still being attacked by the brightness. So you squint and look around. There is what remains of a wall scattered all around you. And about 45 feet ahead of you is a giant hole in the wall.

You don’t register Bellas voice until her hand grasps your arm. You look at her, still a bit dazed.

“Mrs. Wayne! Are you alright? Are you injured?” She asks frantically. And you nod slowly, coming to your senses.

“Yes, sorry,” you wince, “god, my head is killing me.”

Bella helps you up and you lean against a nearby wall. You look down at yourself. You are covered in dust and debris, you dress ripped at the bottom, and cuts scatter your skin.

You look at Bella, she’s in about the same state. But she looks more put together. Being married to Bruce, odd and scary situations like this were not out of the norm, but for some reason, with everything that’s been going on in your personal life, you aren’t as mentally prepared for this. Your heart is pounding and your thoughts race.

You look around frantically, you both need to get out of here somehow. But your head is overcome with a rush of thoughts. Only one keeps repeating. Bruce. You are close to the auction room and you have a creeping suspicion that that explosion wasn’t an accident. 

You run as fast as you can along the rubble in your heels. Not thinking about what Bella might think. You almost fall with every step. You can’t think about anything but him. Even though you are pissed beyond what words can express, you're still worried sick. 

And all the people he was with. You realize, as your breathing becomes quicker. How would they have gotten out? They must have been terrified.

When you finally turn the corner into the auction room you see mass destruction. But no people, just a broken building. Everyone must have gotten out. But there must have been multiple explanations that went off.

You look to where your and Bruce’s table had been. Now all the silverware is scattered and glass broken on the floor.

You stand there in shock, and are brought out of your trance by Bella grabbing your arm again.

”What are you doing?! We have to evacuate,” She huffs out. 

“I'm sorry, I thought there were people still in here.” You breathe out slowly trying to catch your breath better. “I had to make sure-“

”Everyones made it out, I just got a text from commissioner Gordon. Everyone is alright, but we need to go.” She hurries out. And you nod in understanding. But still your heart races. You are worried something might have happened to Bruce, and you can imagine he is feeling the same.

You both walk hurriedly down the halls, trying to find an exit. You hate how little direction the building gives you. You and Bella hold on to each other for support as you walk.

“Bella are you alright?” You finally ask as you continue down the hall.

“Yes. Just a few cuts and bruises. Can’t imagine what would have happened if you didn’t stop us from walking further.” She comments.

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to push away the images of what could have been.

“We were lucky.” She says to you and you nod in agreement.

——

When you eventually spot an exit sign you both physically relax a bit. You push the door open for both of you. The door opens to the side of the building, you can see the lights of police cars from around the corner. And you hear the chatter of all the people.

You and Bella stammer over making sure not to trip in the dark light. As you round the corner you are met with police and paramedics at your side immediately. You brush them off, telling them to tend to the Mayor first. Stubbornly they listen.

You are both taken to an ambulance, and sat at the edge of the open truck. You are given a blanket and moment to gather yourself.

You can see the uninjured crowd of people from the auction across the street, their safe. Your eyes scan over the faces for Bruce.

“Mrs. Wayne.” A voice calls and you turn to face Gordon. You give him your attention and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“I’m sorry you and Mayor Real got stuck in the blasts.” Your breath catches in your throat at his words. So you were right. There had been multiple. Gordon seems to understand that you wanted to know more, so he doesn’t stop.

“We got an anonymous call in, and immediately called for an evaluation. We had accounted for people not being in the main auction room, but we had to focus on the larger group,” Gordon explains with a sigh.

“Yes, I understand. Thank you for your help.” You thank, with a sincere smile. Gordon seems stressed and you feel bad that he has to deal with the aftermath of the horrible people of this city. You can see the tension in his shoulders and the tiredness in his eyes.

“Commissioner?” His eyes turn up at his name. “Do you know where my husband might be?” You ask with furrowed brows. Gordon smiles softly, and nods.

“Yeah, I’ll go get him. In the meantime, stop refusing the paramedics help.” He scolds as he begins walking off. You huff out a laugh and ultimately you let one of the EMT’s look you over properly.

Looking down at your body, you finally take note of the cuts on your skin, and you can make out the beginnings of bruises.  Your new dress is ripped and dirty, just like your skin. Only now does your brain begin to register the ache of them.

Your skin stings as the EMT looking after you swipes disinfectant over your scrapes. You wince every once and a while and the EMT gives you apologetic looks.

You hear your name and your head shoots up. You see Bruce rushing through a crowd trying to reach you. He looks frantic, eyes wide and filled with worry. You look him over as he makes his way to you. He isn’t injured, you note, and a wait lifts off your shoulders. 

“Y/n!” He exasperates as he gets to your side. The EMT respectfully steps away, giving you both space. He takes hold of your arms gently, but securely. It's like the feeling of your warm body against him gives him comfort. Bruce looks over you tenderly once, twice, and a third to be safe. You're at a perfect height to meet eyes, due to sitting in the back of the ambulance truck.

“Bruce, I'm alright,” You say, trying to slow down your racing heart. You’re happy to know he too, is mostly unharmed.

“I- I thought you might have-” Your heart cracks with his voice. You see his eyes get misty and you swear you’ll cry if you stay looking at him. His face is burned in your mind. He looks so lost, so frightened. You know exactly how he feels.

Bruce wants to hug you more than anything. He wants to kiss you. To know you're really here. But he also isn’t sure you want that, with everything that has happened, that he has done, he's not sure how to react in situations involving you.

You look down to avoid his heart breaking gaze. You want to hold him, but don’t know if it's wrong to begin to forgive him so soon. It’s been nearly two months, yet still your heart stings every time you picture him with Selina. But looking at him now makes your heart ache to forgive.

“I- Im glad you're okay.” Bruce voices, trying to calm his uneven breathing. He hesitates to let go of your arms, but folds and lets his arms drop to his side.

”Bruce I-“ You stutter over your words. You can’t say what you feel. But god do you want to. “I'm glad you're okay too.”

”I- I'm so sorry. I should have gone with you, or-“ 

“Bruce, hey- baby,” You grab hold of his face with your cold hands and his eyes painfully train on you. He looks so small. “You couldn’t have done anything. Stop beating yourself up. It's pissing me off that you think you could have known, because you couldn’t have,”

He keeps his eyes on you, the tears in his eyes sparkling in the light of the police car sirens.

“Just be happy we are both here. Yeah?” You question softly, not letting him move his face from your hold. He nods as much as he can with your hands on his face. He whispers an apology as he looks down and a silent tear rolls down his cheek. Your thumb rubs over his skin and wipes it away.

”Don’t cry,” You whisper to him. 

“I'm sorry tonight was such a scare,” You hum and you continue soothing his skin with your thumbs. Bruce's eyes fall shut and two more tears slip from his lids.

”Me too.” He mumbles into your hands. Bruce turns his head to kiss your palm and for the first time in a while, you smile genuinely at him.

”Let's go home,” He whispers as he lifts his hands over yours to soothe you like you are soothing him. You hum and shut your eyes, leaning your forehead against his.

#bruce wayne x reader #battinson #batman x reader #bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne x you #x reader #battinson x reader #the batman 2022 #angst

[thetrashbagswasteland]

Today only from a card carrying member of the Castis Vakarian Appreciation Squad, a refresher on canon since there's a not-zero number of people in 2024 who seem blissfully unaware of how much we know about this man in canon (including andromeda yes the game is canon go cry about it).

He's a cop. Yes Castis works for C-Sec, implied within the same unit/building as Garrus and to the contrary of his son, is implied to be both good at his job and well-regarded for it. (This will be important for later points try to remember it.)

He has alien friends. Castis is canonically one of Alec Ryder's best friends. They're good enough friends that he passes on rumours/heresay about the Reapers to him and reminisces about spending time with him on the Citadel. Any turian old enough to have been an adult during the FCW and who has human friends as of canon prolly isn't a miserable old xenophobe. Whilst no, working at C-Sec doesn't exclude him from having shitty thoughts about Krogan and Quarians, it's a fairly good sign he's not anti-alien on the whole if he'll befriend a human.

He's got a personality. How dare minor characters have those! But more seriously, acting as if Castis is portrayed as nothing but a rule-worshipping automaton is doing him a disservice. If nothing else, his willingness to befriend and hang out with Alec, who's very much of the opinion that rules are guidelines to be circumvented when at all possible, shows that he's capable of nuance and maybe even a dash of line-pushing of his own accord. Maybe he's comfortable within the system and trusts law and order as set out legally above all else but c'mon guys, you don't hang out with a guy who goes on to break AI law and get dishonourably discharged (and then remain friends with him after that when it's made damned clear few others do) without being able to see shades of grey.

He trusts his son. This one I suspect may be more contentious BUT let's be honest here, Garrus isn't an easy person to be around. We hear about the pair of them clashing on the job and within their personal lives about the spectres but here's the thing: Garrus winds up on a secretive mission with a human and xenophobic terrorist group, after running off to a lawless hellscape to play batman. He remains distant until done working with Cererbus and then returns home with a crazy tale about a dead human spectre, genocidal robots from the year dot and half his face missing. Castis not only believes him but does so willingly enough that he does everything he can to help him get the news to the right people, just in case he's right. Equally, whilst we don't have an exact date for when the call with Alec occurs, it's post-start of ME1 at the very least and within that he's already willing to take what Garrus is saying Shepard says at face value. Within that call, it's made patently obvious that no matter what, he still trusts Garrus on some level and is proud of him on top of that trust.

He cares deeply for the people around him. Perhaps this one's linked with 3 but whatever, my post, my rules; in the comics, the picture we're painted by (unreliable narrator) Garrus is that of a driven, cold man who doesn't care enough about his own family. This is why he doesn't come home when Mama Vakarian gets hurt, we're told, and we're expected to take that as face value even when she herself says that by the time he can get away from work and be back there, she'll be mostly healed. Kinda contrasted by the fact that he seemingly retires/takes time off from C-Sec to be with his wife when she's dying. Now, the details are kinda fuzzy on the whys and hows but during ME3, he and Solana escape Palaven together. Maybe the war's going poorly enough that they're able to finagle staying together through the draft, maybe they come across one another purely by luck, we don't know. Either way, rather than attempt to get back to the Citadel and to where he presumably still had a job and/or was needed, he sticks with his daughter. Can't do anything more to help his son but he's gonna stick with at least one of his kids to make sure she survives. As well as all this, the "do things properly or don't do them at all" lesson Garrus struggles with from him is (gasp) not bad advice for their situation. He's trying to teach his son important life skills and whilst there's no denying he's going about it wrong, a key point is in fact that Garrus learns to master the gun he's struggling to fire and it in fact becomes one of his specialities! He becomes an exceptionally good marksman! The lesson fucking worked! He still, regardless of the reasons for it, seems to support and be content with Garrus not fulfilling his mandatory 15 but instead joining C-Sec and (worse still) doesn't have too much of an issue with him consorting with Spectres. Perhaps he's not best pleased but he definitely comes to accept that that's how things are irrespective of his own feelings about them as either a concept or as people (his belief that Garrus being a spectre would be a terrible no good very bad idea is, in fact, backed up by canon as being entirely correct too).

Conclusion/TL:DR. Take a lesson from Castis Vakarian himself here, either write about this man properly or don't write him at all, I'm begging y'all. There's an awful lot more to this character if you think about him and put together the information canon gives us on him, so do so.

#meta #character analysis #Castis Vakarian #garrus vakarian #turian #shakarian #also yeah MEA which gave us a canon name for him came out in 2017. Y'all have had 7 years to learn his name even if you had named him prior #do better.

[banananami]

Couple Costumes with JJK Men!

A/N: October is here so here is a halloween related thread! I couldn’t find a photo for the second costume I chose for Megumi and Gojo but just imagine there is one! Plus, apologies in advance for these photos - I couldn’t find any photos that reflected the vision in my head (who knew it would be hard to find simple halloween related photos!)

GOJO

Trying to figure out Gojo was so hard, but honestly all i can guarantee is that he’d want you to look sexy as FUCK.

He’d probably do the Ken and Barbie couples costume. Little did he know that he’d get so turned on by you in a pink cowboy outfit. BUT then he would remember the plot to the Barbie movie and ask questions like if it’s feminist to say you look sexy in the barbie costume 😭😭.

If it was a halloween party with the first and second years, then I feel like he’d dress up as a mummy. He typically wraps his eyes up so it’s an easy costume idea! You’d put on a cute archaeologist/Indiana Jones-esque outfit on! The kids thank you for wrapping up Gojo’s mouth with a bandage so they don’t have to hear him make corny jokes about their costumes 😭

GETO

I was originally going to suggest Geto and you dressing up as a priest and a nun, but I feel as though that might be offensive!

SO, you guys dress as Grimm and Malaria (Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy)! It’s a cartoon show you both loved watching during your times at school (Shoko loved it too but she couldn’t handle you two flirting whilst the three of you would watch it on TV).

If not Billy and Mandy, then I could imagine a Batman and Catwoman costume (Rob Pat and Zoe Kravitz version). Simple, cheap, and effective! Plus, Geto in eye makeup??? Yes please!!

NANAMI

I think it would be difficult to persuade Nanami to wear a costume but if he did, it would be most likely something simple like Morticia and Gomez from the Addams Family!!

All he has to do is slick his hair down, wear a suit and a fake stache! Plus, he loves you just as much as Gomez loves Morticia so!!!

BUT if you can somehow really convince him then there’s also the option of dressing like Woody and Jessie from Toy Story.

The funky patterns of the Cowboy Costume reminds him of his funky tie so why wouldn’t he!! Plus, Nanami in a cowboy hat would be so cute (I need an artist to draw Nanami in a Woody costume ASAP!!)

MEGUMI

Similar to Nanami, I think it would be difficult to convince Megumi to do something eccentric as a halloween costume.

He’d do something low maintenance with you like being skeletons together!!

Unless you trick him and paint cat whiskers on his face instead 🤭 Megumi as a lil black cat 🐈‍⬛ is so cute to me !!

He’d be slightly annoyed at first but the look on your face over him being a silly little kitten makes it worthwhile! The meowification of Megumi Fushiguro!

YUUJI

I just know this boy loves Halloween!!! If he loves horror films then best believe he loves Halloween, okay!

That being said, I don’t think he’s super creative at designing costumes. The most creative he’d be is cutting two holes in your white bed sheets and throwing it over you! You might even pop some shades on Yuuji to make him look cooler 😎.

HOWEVER, if Yuuji is willing to splash some money on clothes and makeup, then best believe he’d dress up as Beast boy!! You’re obviously Raven ofc. Would definitely win best couple costume!

#jjk gojo #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk yuji #jjk megumi #jjk geto #geto suguru #nanami kento #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen yuuji #jujutsu kaisen megumi #gojo satoru #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #halloween #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu geto #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu gojo #jjkbybanananami

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

Commission: M!Dragon Boss x NB!Reader

Notes: A lovely commission from a lovely follower! I have edited out their personal details and anything they wanted removed. This has been made a NB-Reader Fic for the public enjoyment. Enjoy! Warnings: no warnings Themes: 5K words, sfw, slow burn

~See this first and Part 2 on Patreon~

A massive yawn ripped through you as you made your way to work.

The morning was as normal as ever. And the traffic going to work was slow, but nothing that would make you late. Your brother, Jimmy, was seated beside you in the driver's seat and was feeling just as sleepy as he drove the usual route on autopilot.

When he spoke, it startled you a little out of your thoughts, “Hey, isn’t that new boss coming in today?”

You hummed an affirmative. “Yeah. He’s coming in to meet the managers and staff, apparently.”

Jimmy nodded and slowed to turn into the parking lot of your workplace. And almost immediately, you spotted the very expensive sports car amongst the various normal vehicles. It gleamed with a polished shine in the sunlight and even had a personalized plate with the word “Boss” on it.

Your brother laughed as he parked beside it.

“I like this guy already.” Jimmy said as he turned off the vehicle.

You got out of the car and admired the sleek looking vehicle. It was well cared for and didn’t have a single dent or scratch on it. You were almost scared to walk past it in case you somehow caused some damage to the paint job.

“So, any bets on what he looks like?” You asked and Jimmy shrugged. Leading the way towards the main building.

“I’m getting ‘rich pompous man’ vibes from the car. Possibly mob-boss style clothing and an attitude problem.” Jimmy said. You walked along the side of the building towards the front entrance. You overtook your brother, half laughing at the image you were getting in your mind.

“I’m thinking, a guy like the Penguin from Batman,” You said. “Kinda ugly, but rich and well dressed. Attitude problem that is going to cause us a headache- Oh!”

While talking, you were only half paying attention to where you were going. And as you flung open the door to enter your workplace, you almost slammed right into a towering being of muscle and hard scales.

A massive hand reached out and grabbed your arm, steadying you as you stumbled back.

“Oop, my apologies! I didn’t see you coming in.” A rumble of a voice said as you were released from the iron grip. And as you looked up, having to crane your neck a little, you met the startling golden gaze of a Dragon.

His smile was easy-going and showed a small sliver of white fangs behind his lips. The crisp black suit hugged the huge toned body well, displaying the curves and thick muscle beneath the material.

And his scales, a deep ocean blue, contrasted beautifully with the dark coloring of his clothing.

“Oh, thank you. No it was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention.” You said, unable to properly look this creature in the eyes. His gaze was captivating and he towered over you like a tree. You weren’t intimidated in any way…just a little flustered.

“Ah, well, let’s both share the blame. Then at least no one is at fault.” His eyes gleamed like melted gold coins, matching the warm laugh that rumbled through his chest. “Kierce Silver. I’m the newest addition to your workforce.”

He eyed your uniform and offered out his hand. Which you took and your fingers were swallowed in the wide palm. You felt his claws carefully move so they didn’t scratch your skin as you shook his hand.

“I’m (y/n), and welcome! Do you need a tour to the main office? Or have you already been given the rundown of the place?” You asked.

The building wasn’t complicated to navigate. And training always involved a heavy dose of orientation before actually getting the person to work. But you still remembered your first day here and remembered the comfort of a friendly face being there with you while you were shown the ropes. You tried to help out any new people so that they didn’t feel awkward while being introduced to other employees and actually feel comfortable on their first day.

Kierce smiled and his chuckle was warm. He stepped to the side and gestured for you to lead the way. “By all means, I’d love a tour.”

Jimmy, having been standing somewhat behind you, watching this entire interaction go down; slipped past you and hurried inside. Giving the newcomer his own introduction and shook the man’s hand.

“I gotta run, but if you need anything, just let me know.” Jimmy offered as he retreated into the building. Shooting you a little cheeky grin as he passed by.

You ignored him and started making your way through the hallways. Giving Kierce a rundown on the building and where everything is. You knew the place fairly well and gave your best explanations to each of the areas and what Kierce would expect in each one. The Dragon hadn’t told you where he would be working. But usually new hires were always on the factory floor with the conveyor belts or working alongside a seasoned employee. Until they were trained and able to do jobs by themselves.

Halfway through your walk, you realized you were talking nonstop, gesturing wildly as you went on and on about the building. You quickly stopped and gave Kierce an apologetic smile.

“It’s a lot to take in, sorry. But you’ll figure it all out after a few days.” You said with a shrug. “The warehouse is pretty basic. Have you been given the safety orientation?”

Kierce nodded. Seeming to have been drinking in every word you spoke. “I’m familiar with the protocols. I have a lot of experience with this line of work, so I don’t think I will need to do any of the orientation details.”

“Everyone needs to do it.” You said. Coming up to the windows that showed the massive layout of machinery and conveyor belts. “It’s part of the company’s policies and guidelines. If you don’t, you can’t go onto the warehouse floor.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can squeeze past that little roadblock.” His grin seemed too wide. And it slightly annoyed you at how smug his tone was. “But I appreciate you taking the time to show me around. We should do this more often, I’d like to get to know all of my employees.”

Em…Employees?

You finally properly looked up at this Dragon. His ivory horns were neatly filed and polished to a shine. His blue scales were almost reflective like a mirror and the suit was a little more tailored now that you looked a little harder. He looked too…well dressed for someone who was going to be down on the floor all day. Or was coming in for an interview. Which would have been your other guess.

His handsome features crinkled with a soft laugh. “You were too cute to pass up the tour.” He said. “Let me start over. I’m Kierce Silver, your new boss. I was just dropping by to get some paperwork and make introductions. I couldn’t pass up spending a little time with a pretty little jewel like yourself.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest.

This was your new boss? This was not at all what you had expected. And…did he just call you…pretty?

There was something in the way he smiled. It seemed…to smug for your liking. And the dazzling, coy crinkle around his eyes rubbed you the wrong way.

So much so, that the friendliness you shared with him dwindled into a polite, professional smile. And you nodded curtly. Nothing that would be considered rude or impolite, but merely acknowledging his words.

“Well, welcome to the workplace.” You said. “I’m sure you don’t need me anymore then, I’ll be off to clock in.”

Before Kierce could try and rectify the conversation, you were turning away from him and walking towards the office. The Dragon physically gawked at the sudden change in your demeanor. Caught by surprise, he wasn’t able to kick his body into motion to chase after you as you disappeared through another set of doors.

He managed to catch up with you just as you were halted by a coworker, who seemed to be talking rapidly about something.

You didn’t see Kierce come up behind you, but the way your friend Amber’s rant about the hot new boss came to a screeching halt, told you that he had just come up behind you.

You turned slowly to look up at the guy, and his smile was apologetic, but still had the curling smirk at the corners.

“I’m sorry if I offended you back there,” Kierce said. “I was only being playful.”

“I wasn’t offended. You just caught me off guard, is all.” You replied. But the bitterness in your tone told Kierce that he had in fact hit a small nerve. “And if I kept talking, I would have been made late.”

It was only a half truth. You had possibly ten minutes before you really needed to clock in.

Kierce nodded and looked around the office where you had put your bag down. There were alot of people staring and a few were whispering amongst themselves. None were paying attention to you thankfully.

The woman beside you was beaming up at him. And he smiled in return, offering his hand to her as he introduced himself.

You found yourself rolling your eyes as the coy tone returned to the Dragon’s voice. You decided to use Amber as an escape and quickly ducked away to go start your day.

Kierce was the talk of the factory.

He seemed to be all anyone could talk about. He stuck around for another hour to meet the rest of his employees and then had to leave for other business.

But he might as well have stayed around for the rest of the day. Since every conversation you had with someone was about the new Dragon.

“He’s so handsome! I’ve never met a Dragon before. He is so pretty.” One person cooed as a few of you worked over an assembly belt. “His blue scales are gorgeous! Is it too weird if I ask to touch his arm?”

“Did you see him bring flowers for Milly? What a sweetheart. He’s only been here for a few hours and he’s already got everyone liking him.” Another had said with a laugh.

And you couldn’t really escape him either. Everywhere you went, he was there. And that warm, cocky smile was there to greet you. Through the work week Kierce was coming and going from the building. Instead of Milly going out of her way to leave the building just to talk with him about the business, he would come to her.

Sometimes their meetings would go on for hours at a time and Milly would come out with new piles of paperwork. Once or twice you had to come in a little earlier for a meeting that everyone had to sit through. Mostly some changes the bosses wanted the workers to know. It was small things. And no one really cared about them since it didn’t properly affect their jobs or hours. It was only minor things affecting the company itself and not the people.

Kierce would accompany her through this process, answering any questions people had on anything that changed. He vouched for transparency when it came to his company.

“I don’t want any of you to think we’re hiding any information from you.” Kierce said in one morning meeting. “If you have any questions, even silly little enquiries, don’t be afraid to approach me and ask.”

He was approachable and friendly. And it was incredibly annoying.

You tried to ignore him. But the giant Dragon with a smooth voice and even silkier lines was hard to ignore when he signaled you out for conversation.

Amber didn’t miss a thing throughout the week. Seeming to catch every little smirk and wink Kierce sent your way. And teasing you relentlessly when you scoffed or blatantly ignored him. But thankfully, she only once caught the coloring in your cheeks when Kierce spoke to you.

“Admit it,” Amber teased, speaking low enough that only you could hear her. “You find him just as cute as everyone else.”

You pretended to think about it. Pouting your lips like it was a hard question. But then shrugged and said casually. “He’s…ok.”

Kierce was definitely more than ok, but you weren’t going to let everyone know that. A couple of people had already teased you about “showing the new boss around” on his first day.

Apparently, Kierce had also made mention of your little walk around with him a few times, to a few people. And of course, the gossip mill worked its magic. But you weren’t really worried. There was always some sort of rumor or piece of news floating around the workplace, and rarely did it last very long.

But during that week you saw Kierce start making the rounds to every station in the building. Making introductions and shaking hands with the employees of the warehouse. To the people that he missed because they were sick or didn’t work on the days he had come in.

Again, no matter who he talked to, they loved him. You seemed to be the only person that found his overly cocky attitude and playful smirks frustrating.

You and Amber were one of the last for Milly to bring Kierce over too. It was on your Friday, just before lunch. You kept working while Amber made small talk and laughed at the small jokes Kierce made.

It almost had you rolling your eyes. But you refrained from doing so, in case Milly didn’t take too kindly to it, since this was her boss. As well as yours.

“And of course, you’ve already met (y/n).” Milly smiled. You could see the silent chuckle on her lips as Kierce nodded.

“How could I forget~” Kierce practically purred. If a Dragon could purr. It could have been a soft growl. But that was probably something you weren’t meant to ask someone.

But instead you plastered on that same polite smile as Kierce leaned against the machine and watched what you were doing. “This is obviously a stupid question, but are you enjoying your job?” Kierce asked. The playfulness in his tone was replaced with something along the same lines as professionalism. “Is there anything you think would help you improve your work life here?”

“Shorter hours and more pay?” Amber quipped. Which rewarded her with a somewhat sharp look from Milly. But did get a chuckle from Kierce.

“Wouldn’t that be the dream?” He said. “But seriously. Do you feel safe working with these machines? Do you think you need more training? Maybe some better equipment or safety measures?”

As much as you wanted this to be a serious conversation, you couldn’t quite concentrate while Kierce was leaning so close.

There was a subtle cologne wafting from his massive chest and, damn, it smelled really nice.

“Um, well…” You tried to run through all your time here and come up with an answer that was a little bit better than; ‘oh, it’s ok.’ and follow it up with a shrug. Because it wasn’t, not entirely anyway. There was always something to improve in the workplace. But Kierce was making it really hard to think of anything but him right now.

You decided to stall just a little bit. “There is always something to improve, but since it’s still early in the day, I can’t think of anything right now.”

“It's almost lunch time,” Amber said, and you tried very hard not to kick her shins for it. You ignored her and continued.

“I could always write a list and get it back to you.” You suggested, and Kierce laughed. He stepped closer and started helping with your task as Milly stayed back.

“An entire list? I didn’t think this place was that bad.” Kierce said.

“Oh, no, it’s really not. It’s just-”

Your words died in your throat as Kierce winked down at you.

“Don’t worry, I’m just teasing, shortcake. If you can write a list of improvements or any concerns you have, I’d really appreciate it. I want to know every little dirty detail about this place.”

He finished up what he was doing and bid his farewell to you and Amber. “Thanks for the talk, ladies. Don’t work too hard now.” Another wink and another charming smile and Kierce was walking away with Milly trailing behind him.

Amber waited till Kierce was out of earshot before grabbing your arm and shaking it with an excited giggle.

“Oh my God, he is so into you.” She giggled. And you made a dramatic gesture of gagging as you wiggled your arm out of her grasp.

“Oh please, the guy has flirted with everyone that walks in front of him.” You replied, a little bitterly. Hoping Amber would let go of the subject. “If the machines had eyes, he’d try to woo them too.”

~~~~~~

Over the course of the next few weeks your usual routine was shattered with the constant presence of Kierce. You had hoped he was there for only a week. That he would show boast around and then leave.

But instead, Milly had informed everyone that he would be taking over while she was away on leave. It wouldn’t be too long. But you knew what that meant.

Kierce was going to be here everyday.

And he was always at the front doors when you arrived, smiling and greeting you warmly. But there was always a reason for him to be there.

First he was speaking with a construction team on some new plans for the main entrance and showing them around.

A few times he had run into a co-worker on his way in and they would stand by the doors and chat almost every morning.

Once he was on call with someone, and even hushed them over the phone to say good morning to you.

But as far as you knew, he did this with everyone. Kierce was so friendly that you couldn’t say he was, or was not, singling you out with his attention.

And you were getting tired of trying to guess his intentions every time he came up to you.

Except for this morning, where a single rose was resting on your desk. Next to it was a note that read;

“Thank you for giving me your insight on the building and its protocols. You’ve been a great help to the improvement of this workplace.

Kierce”

What was worse was the little drawn heart next to his name. Which, much to your surprise and frustration, caused a little flutter of butterflies in your chest.

You quickly stuffed the note into your pockets and picked up the rose. You didn’t have anywhere to put it, other than leaving it on your desk with your things. Or stuffing it into your bag. Leaving it on the desk would be a nice thing to come back to anytime you weren’t on the factory floor.

But then again, you didn’t want to give in to the rumors and fangirling that everyone was still tightly caught up in.

You couldn’t deny however, that receiving a flower like this and being appreciated had you smiling for the rest of the day. And when you gave the flower to Amber, she was grinning ear to ear just as much as you.

“Jake is going to have to step up his game.” Amber said. Placing the flower in her bag so she remembered to take it home with her. “I don’t think he’s gotten me flowers in a while.”

“Well, I’m happy to lift your expectations up.” You replied, laughing. About to step away from your desk when Kierce came through the doors. Almost barreling into you as he did.

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” Kierce teased. Chuckling as you stepped back to let him pass.

“It’s almost like you wait for me behind these doors.” You quipped back. “And then when I’m too close, you push through. Forcing me to talk to you.”

“Aww, what? You don’t like our little conversations?” He asked with a wink before disappearing into the back office. From your desk, you could see into the room he had entered. He placed down a cup of coffee and sat behind the table.

With how big he was, the desk looked so much smaller than it actually was. And you had seen him get a bigger chair than the one Milly usually used. He dwarfed a lot of everything around him.

Which had made you giggle a little at the thought of such a huge guy trying to sit on an averaged sized office chair.

“You’re staring,” Amber said. A very mocking look plastered on her face as you jabbed her playfully in the ribs.

“Oh, and you don’t?” You tried to say.

But then Amber laughed.

“You’re not denying it!” She said, drawing out the words as she exited through the doors towards the factory. You rolled your eyes and followed her through.

The note stuck with you in your mind throughout the day. You accepted that it did in fact make you a little giddy inside. When was the last time anyone got you flowers?

But then you were brought out of your thoughts by a tap on your shoulder. You turned and smiled at a man around your age. You knew him as one of the newer employees. With scruffy blonde hair and freckles covering his cheeks.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Max, we haven’t been properly introduced.” He offered you his hand and you shook it, giving your name in return. “Oh, I know, your name. Amber here has told me alot about you. And I was wondering if you’d like to get coffee sometime this weekend.” Max’s cheeks went bright red and he nervously looked down at your shoes before forcing his gaze to raise back to your eyes.

Amber beside you made a quiet squeak noise. But her attention was heavily on the belt in front of her.

You were utterly shocked by the question. So much so, your mouth went into autopilot and accepted the invitation before your mind could kick into gear.

Max’s smile was so wide you thought he was going to split his cheeks.

“Awesome! Um, what’s your number and we can organize a time.”

You couldn’t exactly back out now. So, you gave Max your number and he scribbled it down on a piece of paper. Since phones weren’t permitted in the factory. He’d have to wait till he returned to his bag and put it in then.

“Alright! We’ll talk soon.”

And just like that, you had a date planned for sometime over the weekend.

You turned back to the belt you were working on with Amber in somewhat of a daze. Until Amber laughed and nudged your side.

“Look at you getting a date.” She teased. Glancing over at Max as he returned to his station. “He’s cute. He’s no Dragon, but he’s cute.”

You laughed nervously. You could feel the heat in your cheeks as you tried to busy yourself with work. “I didn’t even think about it. I just automatically said, yes.”

Amber laughed. “Give him a chance. He might be really sweet.”

You nodded, agreeing you might as well give Max a chance. And it was something to look forward to over the weekend.

You weren’t exactly feeling the excitement when the day came to actually go to the date.

The nerves that rattled your body were almost overwhelming the joy of going into a cafe and treating yourself to something sweet.

Max smiled and gave you an awkward hug when you arrived, already having picked out a table for the two of you to sit down at.

The coffee shop itself was quaint. It was surrounded by lush gardens and had an outdoor seating area with large picnic tables that were protected from the sun by broad, colorful umbrellas. The colors bathed the area in mix-matched hues that filtered through the thin layer of material. It wouldn’t entirely shade you from the sun, but protected you enough to not get sunburnt.

Max had picked an outdoor table for the two of you and the server came over just as you sat down. You quickly looked over the small menu and picked out a drink and something from the breakfast menu.

The server smiled and left. Leaving the two of you to sit in a somewhat awkward silence.

“So, uh, what made you say yes to the date?” Max asked. Scratching the back of his neck nervously. He looked just how you felt on your way here. And he was sweating a little.

You shrugged, not entirely sure what he wanted you to say to that. You couldn’t tell him the truth and say it was automatic. “It sounded like a nice time.” You managed to lie. “What about you? Why did you ask me out?”

“Oh, um, you’re just really pretty. And I think you’re pretty funny too. I hear a lot of your conversations with Amber and Jake. They’re great people.”

Max’s words did bring a little color to your cheeks. And you smiled down at the table, chuckling.

“I’m sorry if I seemed like I ever ignored you. Sometimes I get lasered in on a conversation.” You fiddled with a napkin that was sitting on the table. “How long have you been working at the factory?”

“Oh, a few weeks now.” Max said with a shrug. His own eyes wandering elsewhere. “I’m a bit of an antisocial guy so I rarely talk to people at work.”

The conversation went into the subject of the factory. You had to admit, you were getting a little bored talking about the place you were at all week for many hours of the day. Your drinks were brought out to you and you thankfully now had something to change the subject onto.

And you were almost glad when he excused himself to go to the restroom. And you were allowed a few minutes of peace. Looking at the gardens and all the flowers that were beginning to bud.

“Ah, so they do exist outside of work!” A shadow passed over you as a large form stepped around the table to sit in Max’s spot. Kierce smiled broadly as he smoothly slipped onto the bench. Tucking his long legs under the table and curling his thick tail out of the walkway. “And here I thought you just lived in the factory basement.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Oh please, I do have a life outside of that place. What are you doing here? I would have thought you’d be drowning in paperwork.”

“Unlike other workaholics, I can pull myself away from the desk every so often. I need to see the sun at least twice a month to keep my scales shiny.” Kierce said. His smile was broad and didn’t carry the coy smirk you were so used to him wearing. And his clothes were more casual. A simple dark shirt with tight fitting jeans. “I’m here for my weekly treat of raspberry scones and cream. And a very heavy dose of caffeine on the side. What are you doing here? On a…date, are we?”

The bony scales that served as his eyebrows wiggled teasingly as you probably went three shades of red.

“You guessed correctly.”

Kierce clicked his tongue and leaned forward excitedly. “Oh? Do tell? Are they from work?”

“You’re my boss.” You laughed, shaking your head. Being entirely sarcastic. “I can’t share those type of details with you.”

“I could just wait till Monday.” Kierce shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll be all over the workplace by then. Or sit here until they come back. I couldn’t let a pretty jewel like yourself sit alone for long.”

A waiter came by and dropped off Kierce’s massive to-go coffee cup and a medium sized brown paper bag. His smile transformed into that very familiar smirk as he addressed the waiter. “Thank you, sweetheart.” His attention went back to you and he tilted his head. “Or, heaven forbid, did they ditch you?”

Some part of you would have been thrilled if that was the case. The conversation had been so dull, you were glad to talk to someone else.

“Or maybe you scared them off.”

“Puh-lease, I am not that intimidating.” He scoffed playfully. Taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

“I find you a little annoying.”

“Hey, I am your superior. You can’t say that to me.”

“We’re not in the factory anymore, Kierce! I can say what I want.” Despite the tones, you could see the twinkle in his eyes. Conveying he was being just as sarcastic as you were. And it made you laugh as he scoffed dramatically.

“You wait till Monday.” The growl, though utterly playful, sent a chill through you. And you hoped Kierce didn’t see the way goosebumps ran along your arm. You covered up your flustered state with a laugh. Shaking your head.

You finally glanced around the cafe, looking for Max. It had been some time since he left the table. His coffee would be going cold soon.

Probably thinking the same thing, Kierce also looked around the small shop and its tables.

“Who did you actually invite out?” He asked.

“He invited me. It was Max.” You said with a huff. Surely, you seriously did not just get ditched. “He said he was just going to the restroom.”

Kierce clicked his tongue and pushed his drink and bag towards you. “Hold these, I’ll go make sure he hasn’t fallen in or something.”

You nodded as Kierce stood from the table and went inside. You could smell the freshly baked treats inside the bag. They smelt amazing. And the strong smell of coffee radiating from his to-go cup was mildly worrying.

After a minute, Kierce returned to the table. Shrugging.

“I’m sorry to say, I think he ditched you.” He pointed at Max’s coffee. “Did he pay for his?”

“Not yet. We literally just got here.” You were a little crestfallen about the situation. Your first date in a while and the guy gets up and leaves you to pay for both coffees. Your food would be out any minute as well.

Kierce sat back down and retrieved his goodies from you. He tore open the bag and retrieved one of his scones between his claws.

“Well, his lost. My gain.” He winked and took a large bite from the cream filled delight. Just as your plate of food was placed in front of you and Max’s was placed beside Kierce. Who took one look at it and scooted it a little ways away from him with the tip of his claw. “So, what shall we discuss on our first date?”

The twinkle in his golden gaze almost made you choke on your food as much as his words did.

After taking a sip of your drink, you shot him a small glare. “This isn’t a date.”

“Oh? Then what is it.”

“You hijacking a date.”

“But still a date…” He chuckled at how easily he could get you flustered. With a small wink and a smile, and your little bit of irritation was gone. “It’d be rude of me to ditch you as well. Do you need a ride home after this?”

There was no teasing to his question. But a genuine offer. And you shook your head.

“Thank you, but my brother is going to pick me up afterwards. But I appreciate the offer.” You picked at your food and Kierce carried on with the conversation.

You found yourself talking a lot easier with Kierce than with Max. The subjects ranged from hobbies, to your life and his work before the factory. You found yourself laughing a lot more at his jokes and his chuckle was just as loud when you told a few stories about your family.

Before you knew it, you were both on your third cafe beverage and were only disturbed by Kierce’s phone ringing.

Though he declined the call, he sighed.

“I should get back to the office. I am a little late for a meeting.” He said, gathering the leftover scones and putting them back in the bag. “This was fun, (y/n). We should do this again.”

Again with that damn smirk and crinkle under his eyes. You rolled your eyes and stood as well. Getting your money out to pay, but Kierce tsked.

“The gentleman pays for the first date. Especially when he asked.”

You didn’t even bother trying to correct him. And you let him go to the counter and pay for the table’s bill.

“Thank you.” You said when he joined you to walk towards the car park. “I did have a good time. You made an ok date, really good.”

“Don’t take it to heart.” Kierce said gently. Nodding towards the cafe, to where you both had been sitting. “Some guys just can’t handle talking to a gem for too long. See you on Monday.”

With a flick of his tail, Kierce hurried across the road to his shiny car. Leaving you, yet again, to stutter a ‘goodbye’ after him.

#dragon #male dragon #dragon x reader #male dragon x reader #male dragon x nb reader #non-binary reader #nb reader #slow burn #sfw #commission #patreon #monster lover #dragon lover #dragon boyfriend #dragon boss #monster boyfriend #monster boss #male monster

[lonleydweller]

Yandere prompt 30 for Arkham Knight Riddler, please?

🥀Yandere Arkham Knight Riddler + prompt 30🥀

!Warnings!: yandere trope, violence, kidnapping, threats of violence, blackmailing

Yanderes are OK in fiction. They should stay fiction. They are not example of healthy relationships. These behaviors are NOT okay in real life. This is for entertainment purposes

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

Your body trembles as you clamor to your feet. Letting out a shakey breath as your eyes are assaulted with bright green neon paint, blaring neon green lights, and ramblings that cover the grimey metal walls. The question mark buttons out of your reach that taunt you. The floor comprised of odd looking tiles. The faint crackle of electricity running through the room. This wasn't your first time being a rat in one of his mazes. In fact he seemed to just absolutely love putting you in them.

He loved taunting and cooing at you while you scrambled for your freedom. Spouting his delusions of "love" at you. Knowing you didn't have any choice to listen to his voice blare over the speakers. He always had some trick up his sleeve. A button in a hidden spot, a lever just out of reach, a timer, or a riddle to solve. You'd always loose by a meere second, a hair, a technicality. He'd gloat as if he won. Until batman would show of course.

For a moment you think maybe this was a dream. After all there was more than a minute of silence without his voice tormenting you. Maybe this wasn't real. Maybe you wouldn't have to fear for your safety. You almost jump out of your skin when the projection of him flickers onto the wall. A smug greeting.

"Look who's finally awake! Welcome back once more my dear."

You can only grimace. Not wanting to reply to his banter. You've learned that no amount of swears, pleads, cries, and screams would make him budge.

"Let's just get this over with. You want me to complete some stupid puzzle before s timer runs out right? Want me to anwser a riddle? Just like the other ones? Right?"

You question. Hoping maybe you could speed this grueling game up. An important part of that would be getting him to talk the least amount possible. He tries to talk once more, but you cut him off. Practically pleading.

"We've done this enough times. I'm not stupid. Please. Let's just get on with it. Enough with the theatrics."

He stays silent for a moment. Before recovering from your blunt response. Talking over you before you can shut him down again. Clearly a bit annoyed by the cut off.

"Well if you would let me speak, you'd see this little game I've set up is quite different than the previous ones I've challenged you with dear! After all I'd hate for these to be too easy for you. I mean, where's the fun in that?"

Your brow furrows. This wasn't good. It seems your flimsy plan wasn't going to hold up. He'd already thrown so many different mechanisms your way. What else could he possibly have? What other headache inducing thing would you have to remember? His obnoxious giggle echoes as he boasts.

"I've added something a new! A new risk. I've upped the stakes, so to speak!... something you can't ignore. Nor brush off this time like it's nothing."

The feed switches to with an audible noise, from Edwards disgusting face to a person tied in to a chair, wiring hooked up to it. A wave of nausea hits you, your body shudders, your blood runs cold. You feel frozen, like your feet are stuck in concrete.

It was your friend. Your dear friend who's comforted you through all of this, stuck by your side, and pushed gotham authorities to do more, they even let you stay at their place when your's was no longer safe.

This had to be a joke. This had to be fake. Maybe it was just someone that looked like them? He wouldn't go this far would he? He had to be just bluffing right?

"This has to be a joke..."

You say out loud in disbelief. Tears pooling down your face, dripping onto the metal tiles at your feet. The muffled cries of your friend echo throughout the room.

"Oh I assure you, this is no joke my dear. What you see is most certainly real. I've gotten this.. cretin you refer to as a friend hooked up to a series of wires ready to deliver more than enough electricity to fire their tiny brain."

You sputter out more words in a desperate plea, hoping maybe this was just one big trick.

"No.. no.. you can't be serious right? Y-you wouldn't actually do this.. y-you wouldn't go this far all over me.. You're bluffing, you have to be, please."

His smile drops, he looks almost offended. He let's out a strained chuckle. Speaking through gritted teeth, his voice shaking a bit.

"I don't think you quite understand just how far I'd go to have you."

And with that deadly declaration of devotion, the timer starts ticking down.

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

#writers on tumblr #dc #dweller's writing #batman rouges #riddler #arkhamverse #yandere dc #arkham riddler #yandere #tw: yandere #yandere arkham riddler #yandere arkhamverse riddler #Yandere arkhamverse #arkhamverse riddler #arkhamverse riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #edward nigma

[pynkgothicka]

Hey!! I was wondering if you'd write this.

Reader's being stalked and goes to the police for help, Dick gets assigned to the case and escorts her home only for the reader to find out he's her stalker??

Smut!! Non-con.

Dark! Dick Grayson x Fem! Reader

a/n: y'all I took a good lil break fa a minute

Tags/Warnings: NONCON, GASLIGHTING

🕸️

You fiddled with your fingers in the GCPD. You were waiting to be allowed in the back in order to speak with Commissioner Gordon about maybe getting some help with your stalker situation. Whoever was following you, was beginning to really worry you. Some nights you'd come home to your door being wide open and stuff missing, your bed messed up, and a musk smell in the air.

You weren't safe, and you knew it.

"Hey Ma'am, Gordon wants you in his office."

You were snapped out of your trance as Cash motioned to the back. You nodded and moved to the door. A gruffed out voice allowed you in. You closed the door behind you as you walked through the door, taking a seat afterwards. Commissioner Gordon sat there, and gave you a small warm smile. "So what's the problem here ma'am?"

You explained what had been happening the past few weeks and the Commissioner took notes, just letting you vent out your frustrations. "Well Ma'am, this is a solid stalker case and I can make a warrant for arrest. But, I don't have a face nor a person to even start off as suspects."

"What do I need to do then Commissioner?"

"Not a damn thing, I'm assuming you know of Batman and his entire ya know, clique?"

You raised a brow, why would they have anything to do with the case you were building? None the less you answered, "Yes?"

"Well, I'm going to put one of them to your case, don't worry they'll let you know they're onto you. Trust me, it's for the best that it's one of them. Those freaks are quiet and stealthy as hell." You let out a small laugh and your heart rate slowed down. If all they had to do was make sure you're safe, then you're okay with that.

"As long as something is getting done, thank you for understanding."

"Hey, what are we here for?"

🕸️

You stood at the side of your window gazing longingly at the sky. Your paints were scattered everywhere, the muggy sky only needing some gray and blue. Everything was so bleak and bland, and you haven't heard anything for the past 2 days, was someone in your case yet?

Deep in Thought, you picked up another glob of blue oil paint and was nearly about to paint until you saw a man outside your window. You screamed and jumped back, tripping on some loose clothes you didn't have the energy to pick up. Your window opened as he climbed through, shutting it behind himself. He rushed over to your side and pulled you up.

"I'm so sorry about that, I didn't think I'd scare you that bad." He said rubbing your shoulders. "I'm Nightwing, as you probably already know. And they put me on your case, so just think of me like your guardian angel." You smiled and let out a breath of relief. You were glad it was him out of all the other vigilantes. He was carefree and easy going, and that's exactly what you needed.

"Thanks, um are you hungry or something? Sorry I just don't want you to be hanging around and not be comfortable." You picked up your paintbrush and dumped it back in your water cup. Nightwing gave a sheepish smile.

"Trust me I'm alright, it's my job to watch over you, so don't worry about me."

Having him around would definitely lift some stress from your shoulders. You could finally focus on your art and making rent.

🕸️

Nightwing escorted you home every late art show you had, giving you someone to talk to about your troubles and worries. And all the stalker junk dialed down, hell you barely even felt like someone was watching you these days.

"Hey I need to stop and get something real quick, wanna come with me real quick?" Nightwing snapped you out of your thoughts. You shrugged and nodded as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the nearest alleyway. You felt your trust in your guardian angel falter. He kept dragging you deeper into the alleyway, he's so happy about it too, laughing all the while. He turned into a nearby doorway. He kept going down the abandoned hall and finally opened a door.

"Go ahead and rest for a bit, I'll be right back." He motioned towards the couch he had in the apartment's living room. He walked into the kitchen and started rummaging through the cabinets and drawers. You went ahead and sat down on the couch and looked around. The door out had 3 locks which raised some concerns. Maybe he was just wary like that? He is a vigilante after all.

The TV in front of you was unplugged and had a DVD tape attached. He had a large collection of films and TV shows, most you recognized just with a single glance. Maybe you'd have to ask to come back here sometime and have a movie night. All of a sudden you yelled out as your hair was caught in a vice grip. You were shoved forward into the ground, your head slamming on the corner of the glass counter. It was certainly going to bruise.

You barely had a chance to get up as you were dragged to another door within the apartment. Nightwing was attacking you, and you were trapped.

He threw your body forward, making you lose balance and collapse on the ground. "Nightwing, please-"

"I've been waiting so long for you to come around. Do you know how hard it was to keep everything from you?" He rambled on, beginning to go from the top of his uniform, and slowly pulled down on the zipper.

"Hide what?" You questioned backing further into the alley. Your back hit a soft mattress, and then it all connected, he was going to take away your virginity. He was the one stalking you, The Commissioner played right into his plans, and you only made it easier.

"I sure do love seeing those gears in that little head of yours work. Who knew all it took to get you like this was for me to do my job?" He chuckled, pulling down the front part of his outfit, and pulling off his pants to reveal his raging hard on. "Now strip, and I won't ask again." That was all you needed to hear as you took off your blouse. You didn't want to give him a reason to possibly kill you, he was 10x your size and could crush you in an instant.

The room was muggy, and you were half naked, and sweat stuck to your skin. Dick was exposed, and was slowly walking towards you, panting heavily. You pushed further into the bed trying to get away from him. He climbed with you, hovering over your shivering body. He kissed up your leg all the way to your panties. They were plain and white the only hint of color being a small pink bow. He chuckled and pulled down your panties and blew on your newly exposed clit. You shivered as your leg shook. He then licked a single stripe, you letting out a small gasp, choking on your tears. "Shit your dry as hell, don't worry we're gonna get you nice and soaked." Nightwing then shoved his mouth and latched onto your clit. He ate you out and fucked you with his tongue. He groaned out, your taste staining his tongue.

You were close and you knew it, you didn't want to have him get the pleasure of making you cum but you couldn't hold back. It was just too good. "N-Night-"

"Dick, call me Dick. And shhhh. Dick moved away from your now puffy clit and grabbed at your breasts. He then smashed his lips against yours, the bitter taste of your own juices coming back through his toxic touch. He pulled away climbing higher, positioning his rock hard erection in front of your lips. "Kiss it baby, for good luck." You shook your head rapidly, Dick growled in response. "Come on, don't you want good luck? I sure do I want to knock you up so you can't ever leave."

You gulped and reluctantly planted a kiss on his hot tip. He groaned out and took you by your hair to keep himself steady. He moved down and positioned himself in front of your waiting pussy. He rubbed himself a few times before shoving himself inside you, still keeping a firm grip on your hair. He used that grip to keep you in place as he kept a harsh rough pace, cashing his high. You were already too fucked out to even realize what was happening, you clawed into the bed beneath you.

"You're gonna cum soon, do it with me."

That was all the permission you needed as you are with a loud cry, your vaisin getting spotty. Dick crashed his lips onto your already dead ones and came, the warmth filling you. He collapsed on you, and began stroking your hair. You knew that you couldn't push him off, he was way more powerful than you.

You should've never let him into your life as much as you did. Not for sure it was going to take a miracle in order to escape.

#dark writing #tw dark content #tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #tw gaslighting #yandere blog #tw coercion #yandere nightwing #nightwing #yandere dc #dark dc #dc smut #tw stalking #tw noncon

[symphonicmetal101]

LITTLE RANDOM THINGS THE CHARACTERS DO

Lucifer - he smells the dryer sheet before it goes into the dryer...clean things make him calm and that smells clean, ok?

Mammon - will make the squidward sound effect when you walk to be a small nuisance

Levi - sometimes dresses up his tail as a puppet

Satan - hums the batman theme song, but replaces the b with a c in his head

Asmo - locks his door so he can do bomb face paintings, but doesnt let anybody see

Beel - he practices wearing heels in secret bc they make his calves look good but hes still learning how to walk walk in them

Belphie - puts lavender on his and Beels pillowcases to help them both go to sleep

Diavolo - when he talks to himself he sometimes changes all vowels into one...like "I have to get this done but its boring" turns into "A hava ta gat thas dane bat ats barang" (yes he puts too much thought into it but its a solid distraction from work for two minutes)

Barbatos - he screams into the void here and there. He needs to.

Mephistopheles - he just. Braids things. Whatever he has in his hands.

Simeon - folds tissues so Luke can grab some to put in his pocket whenever he leaves...often makes too many though

Raphael - looks up slang often. Wont use it. But good to know for when he needs to shut someone up bc of what they said.

Luke - He sings!! A lot!! Whenever hes happy and relaxed he sings to himself. Solomon caught him once so now he only sings when Solomon leaves purgatory hall. (Sol wasnt mean about it, Luke is just shy)

Solomon - reorganizes his room frequently. He has magic so its easy enough to put back if he hates it.

Thirteen - refuses to use a pencil sharpener. She sharpens shit with a knife.

#v talks #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me Barbatos #obey me mephistopheles #obey me simeon #obey me Raphael #obey me luke #obey me Solomon #obey me thirteen

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Who Made Me a Villain (6)

[Masterlist] [Ao3]

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)(Part 5) This is a Halloween special as a treat. ------

Clark Kent, a mild mannered reporter, was drinking his coffee. Just like any other average Joe while editing Lois Lane’s latest scoop so there were no spelling mistakes and grammar errors.

Then, his super hearing picked up Lois’s heartbeat speedup. There was an ear-piercing scream that had him jumping out of his seat.

“Woah, Kent, what’s wrong?” A concerned colleague asked.

“Indigestion. Bathroom. Real quick.” Clark threw out the first excuse that came to mind before speeding down to the nearest bathroom. Being careful to keep it to human speed.

He had just finished changing into Superman when his phone rang, the caller ID showing Lois’s name.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Superman demanded.

“Name’s Rebel. And don’t worry your darling, I need her alive to do something I want.”

The voice sounded young and female. Superman went through his mental list of supervillains, trying to figure out who took Lois.

“Rebel…” Superman repeated, trying to put a face to the name. Then, he remembered Batman grumbling about Robin sending a picture of him covered in neon green paint and feathers to the Young Justice unofficial group chat who all were happy to show their mentors. It took everything for Superman not to burst out laughing when Kon had shown him the picture. The one responsible for Batman’s misfortune had been no other than Rebel.

“Aren’t you supposed to be Gotham, Rebel?” Superman asked as he flew towards where he knew Lois was.

“Ah. So the great Captain America has heard of me.”

Superman stopped in mid-air, purely due to confusion because Rebel sounded so confident that it was his name.

“Excuse me what?”

The French accent didn’t really help but make Clark think of those terrible Hollywood bad guys.

“You are excused. As I was saying, Captain, your beloved love is fine. I just need her to do this one little thing for me. Then, she’ll be free to go.”

“What do you want from me?” Superman asked again.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Captain America, the world does not revolve around you. You aren’t the high and mighty god everyone thinks you are. I just need Mrs. Lane’s help in releasing a certain truth.”

“You will let her go right now!” Superman said.

He was narrowing on his wife’s location.

“I just told you that I will do that after I am done.” Rebel replied.

Superman arrived at the location but,

“This can’t be right.”

Rebel giggled over the phone. “Plot twist! Gotta love them.”

Superman was currently floating above Stryker's Island Penitentiary where the worst offenders of Metropolis were kept.

He scanned the buildings but couldn’t locate Lois.

“What did you do to her?”

“Chill, Captain. She’s fine. I just did something so you went after a fake heartbeat while I hid Lois.”

The fact that she tricked him using a complicated method that sounded like something Bruce would come up with had Superman raising his guard up. She was not an opponent to be underestimated.

“I am not going to repeat myself. What did you do to her?”

“Urgh. Can’t you overlook this little thing just this once?” Rebel complained, not concerned about the fact that she was provoking a man who could bend metal like it was rubber. “I am just stealing her for a few hours and then you can have her back. I even swear that she will be in the condition you last saw her in.”

“No. Give Lois back. Now.”

Rebel huffed. “You aren’t going to make this easy, huh? Then… beep.”

Superman was confused for a second when she made that sound with her voice.

Then, an explosion rocked the island below Superman. Instantly, the place was swarming with freed prisoners and guards trying to put them back.

“That should keep you busy. After all, the people of Metropolis need to be kept safe from the vicious criminals. Lois and I would probably be done with our girls’ day out by the time you are done. Au revoir.”

The phone hung up.

Trapped between the decision to save his wife and his city, Superman went to save the day.

—

“Man, your husband was a pain to deal with.” Rebel said after she hung up on Superman.

She turned back to Lois who was sitting unbound on a sofa with her recorder, notepad and pencil out. In front of her was a delicious spread of cakes, pastries and cookies with a mouth-watering scent which Lois tried her best to ignore.

“You kidnapped me and blew up a prison. I don’t think he would be happy to see you.” Lois pointed out. “This isn’t about him.” Rebel dismissed. “This is about you, helping me expose one of the biggest cover ups in history.”

“What makes you think I would help you?”

“What if I told you that four years ago. There was a supervillain in Paris that used negative emotions to turn people into monsters and the mayor had made sure news of it never got out.”

Lois snorted. “I don’t write fantasy, kid. I only write the truth.”

Rebel slapped down a bunch of newspapers dated from four years ago to the most recent one and a lot of documents.

“Here’s evidence. I promise that they aren’t faked. You can even use your phone to search all of this up if you still don’t believe me.”

Lois grabbed the one that was oldest and the front page talked about some stone golems wrecking the city. She read through it. Then, she looked at another paper dated a week later and read the front page talking about evil butterflies.

Fifteen minutes later and some google searches, Lois put down her phone and the newspapers.

She gave Rebel a professional smile. “Now… about that scoop you were going to give me.”

She watched Rebel’s eyes lit up.

—

Hours later…

Superman landed on the roof of the Daily Planet where Lois stood safe and sound. He scanned her with his x-ray vision and felt relieved to see that she was fine.

“Lois, are you okay?” Clark asked with worry as he hugged her.

“I’m fine. Honestly, it was the best kidnapping I've ever been in.” Lois replied, hugging back.

“Thanks for the compliment, Ms. Lane.” The unwanted spectator to their reunion said.

Rebel cheerfully waved from where she was on her bike as Superman glared at her.

“I am going to-”

“That’s my cue to leave.” Rebel cut off his threat as she took out a lead box. “Really lucky I stole this off the Big Bat the other day.”

Superman immediately backed away when the box was opened, revealing a glowing green rock.

“Bye, Captain America.”

Rebel tossed it onto the ground and sped off on her bike.

It took a moment for Superman to remember that they were on a roof and that Rebel was insane.

He watched Rebel drop down as gravity took hold. Superman immediately flew after her, only to find that she had disappeared in between the seconds his eyes were off her.

His brain finally caught up and Superman realised that he wasn’t feeling any effect of Kryptonite.

He turned around to see that the box was still open. Cautiously, Lois picked it up and closed it.

“You okay, Clark?” She asked.

“Can you give me the box, Lois?”

She nodded with confusion and slowly handed it over.

Clark slowly opened the lead box and laughed in disbelief. Inside was just some clear plastic crystals with a glowing green light underneath.

—

“Batman.”

“Superman.” Batman nodded in acknowledgement. “Why are you here?”

“I need you to run some tests on Lois’s blood. She had a run in with one of your Rogues. She said that she feels fine. But I want to be sure.” Superman answered. He handed Batman the vial of blood. He accepted it and put it in his pocket.

“I will do that as soon as I get back to the Cave. Who was it that she encountered?”

“Rebel.”

Batman stiffened at the mention of her name. “I see. What did she do to Lois?”

“Gave an interview I suppose. Lois was immediately on research binge about something that happened in France afterwards. She also had a few of the food Rebel laid out because she was hungry and I quote ‘they were the most delicious pastries ever’. She insisted that she was fine but I wanted to be sure.”

Batman’s frown deepened at that answer.

“Is something wrong?” Superman asked anxiously. This was the mother of his child and the love of his life that was in danger here.

“Lois is most probably fine but I will still run the test to ease your mind. I know Rebel won’t do something to the food unless it was for a prank. Even then, it’s nothing toxic or lethal.” Batman answered.

The answer didn’t reassure Superman.

“She blew up Stryker's Island, Batman.”

He couldn’t understand why Batman seemed so unbothered that such a dangerous villain was running around freely and causing chaos wherever she went.

“She regularly does it to Arkham.”

“Bruce. She lured me into a trap with a fake heartbeat of Lois. She fooled me into thinking she had kryptonite. She rode off the roof of the Daily Planet on her bike and disappeared into thin air. And Rao knows why she keeps calling me Captain America!” Superman ranted.

He took a deep breath to calm down before asking his question. “Rebel is clearly dangerous so why aren’t you taking her as a serious threat?”

Batman stared at him. Clark knew that this was his decision making face.

“You said that Lois was looking into something that happened in France.”

Superman nodded. “Yeah. Is Rebel related to it?”

Batman sighed. It was filled with regret and shame.

Superman knew that this was not good news.

“I was going to bring this up at the next League meeting but Rebel appeared to be getting impatient.” Batman started.

“What happened in France?”

“We, as the League, had made a huge oversight. There was a major problem in Paris for many years. A villain who could turn people into monsters had the city hostage. Rebel intends on making sure that we rectify our mistake.” Batman started.

He told Superman everything. About how Rebel brought the issue to his attention. What her plans were. Her past.

“Bruce, are you sure? She could be lying.” Superman said.

“I did my research. It’s all true. There is too much evidence to be faked. Some parts are still being investigated but it is largely the truth.”

Superman looked solemn. He couldn’t understand how something like this never fell on his radar. Batman had to rely on reports and technology to get his information. He was just a man after all. It would be easy for something like this to slip past his radar, especially how tightly controlled the information was.

Clark had super-hearing and this news about Paris had completely blindsided him.

“How could we have missed something so big for so long?” He muttered.

“Too many factors prevented news about it from reaching us. The past is done. What we can do is prepare so nothing like won’t ever happen again.” Batman said firmly.

Superman agreed. They had to do better.

“First, we have to catch a moth.”

It wasn’t the threat of Rebel unleashing her plans on the world that had him motivated to capture Hawkmoth. It was the determination to atone for his ignorance while a city suffered hell on a daily basis.

—

October 30th, Halloween Eve…

Spoiler looked through the binoculars to spy on the group of men moving a crate gently into a warehouse. Plastered in stickers that said ‘Fragile’, the crate was an object of interest for the vigilantes. 

“I got eyes on the target, O.” Spoiler reported. “They are moving it into warehouse number 32. East side of the Gotham Docks.”

“Hear that, Robin?” Oracle asked.

“Got it.” Robin replied as he ran towards the location.

“Oh. I see you, Robin.” Spoiler said.

“Eyes on the target, Spoiler.” Oracle admonished her.

“Sorry, O.”

“Hey. Can you tell me what you Bats are doing here?” A mechanical voice came from Spoiler’s left. 

It was lucky that Spoiler didn’t immediately scream and instead tried to punch the new arrival. He caught her attack easily with his one hand.

“Red Hood.” Spoiler greeted once she recognised who it was.

“I am asking again. What are you Bats doing here?”

“Spoiler, you okay?” Robin’s worried voice came over the comms.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just Red Hood.” Spoiler replied.

Looking back at Red Hood, she said, “I will tell you if you tell me what you are doing here.”

“I think we are both after the same thing.” Red Hood said, tilting his head in the direction of the warehouse.

“Black Mask’s mysterious package.” Spoiler nodded.

“It’s actually Rebel’s.” Red Hood explained. “Black Mask’s men intercepted the delivery and she asked for my help to get it back.”

“Do you know what’s inside?”

“She said it was supposed to be a fun Halloween surprise.”

“So it’s harmless.”

Red Hood shrugged. “All I know is that I should not be within a mile of it when the clock strikes midnight tonight.”

“We have five hours then.” Oracle’s voice came through Spoiler’s comms and inside Red Hood’s helmet.

“Jesus, don’t just hack into people’s helmets.” Jason complained.

“Well, we don’t have extra comms on hand.” she retorted.

“Hood, did Rebel tell you anything else about the package?” Robin asked.

“Just that it’s set to be unleashed the minute it is Halloween. Oh and don’t open it. I think it’s some kind of special bomb.”

“You didn’t ask?” “It’s Rebel. What harm can she do? It’s probably some kind of high quality glitter bomb.” Red Hood replied casually.

“You have no idea how destructive she has gotten lately.” Oracle said. “Last month, she blew up Stryker's Island. That was after she had kidnapped Lois.”

“Is she trying to go after Superman?”

“She wanted Lois to spread her ‘take down Hawkmoth’ agenda.”

“Hawkmoth? Never heard of him. Who the hell is that?” Red Hood asked.

“Rebel’s personal vendetta.” Spoiler answered.

“Sorry to cut this short, guys but Black Mask is coming.” Robin said. “We can fill you in on what happened later”

“Truce?” Red Hood offered. “I still owe Roman a beating.”

“No killing, Hood.” Oracle set as her condition.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Red Hood loaded his guns and jumped into the fray with Spoiler in her purple glory following.

—

“Crap.”

Robin spotted Black Mask running into the warehouse. He slammed the goon he was fighting against the ground as hard as he could. 

“Somebody go and stop Black Mask! He’s going into the warehouse.” Robin said to everyone before he picked up his dropped staff and went back to fighting.

They were outnumbered and a few of the goons were trained from what Robin could tell.

“Oracle, what’s the ETA on back up?”

“Hang in there, Robin. Batman and Batgirl’s ETA is under one minute.”

“Good. Let’s hope that someone can stop Black Mask before we find out what Rebel’s Pandora box holds.”

—

Red Hood ran towards the warehouse as soon as he heard the report from Robin.

He had a score to settle with the other crime lord.

“Sionis, where are you?” Red Hood bellowed into the warehouse.

His helmet picked up the sound of someone running and Red Hood sprinted in the direction of the sound.

It became a chase and a gunfight with the two crime lords exchanging gunfire and one trying to lose the other in the maze that was the warehouse. Black Mask used every trick he had to throw Red Hood off his track.

However, it was fruitless as Red Hood continued to chase him like a bloodhound.

As desperation seized him, Black Mask picked up a crowbar that was lying around and ran towards the box he had stolen from that upstart Rebel.

Rumour has it that it is a weapon she had made for the Bats. Intended to drive them mad.

Red Hood rounded around the corner, just in time to see Black Mask pry the box open.

“NO!”

The lid was off. 

—

Last Month in Metropolis. A day before Lois’s kidnapping…

A young woman sauntered through the hallways of Stryker's Island Penitentiary. Then, she stopped in front of the cell she was looking for.

“Hello, Toyman.”

“Rebel.” Toyman greeted back. “What a pleasure to see you again.”

“I would like to contract you to make a few things for me.” Rebel went straight to the point.

Toyman gave her an interested look. “What would be in it for me?”

“Would getting you out of this place give me a discount?” Rebel asked.

Toyman smiled. “I suppose that might be possible. I’m a generous man after all. But that still doesn’t answer what you want me to make.”

Rebel chuckled. “It’s September. It’s practically nearly Halloween. And I really really want to make it a memorable one. Especially for the heroes in my city. I would like to commission a few toys. Here’s a list.”

She handed it to him.

Toyman hummed as he read it over. This could be a good deal. He would get his freedom and just make a few dolls with a bit of profit.

“How many would you like to make?”

“As much as you can before the deadline which is a few days before Halloween. Say the twenty-eight? Would that be possible? I would pay a set price for each one you can finish.” Rebel said.

“Can you back it up? I am not saying that you are not trustworthy but...” Toyman didn’t manage to finish before Rebel took out a wad of cash, all in hundred dollar bills.

She took half of it and handed it to Toyman through the bars.

“This is for the materials. Once I get you out of here, we are going to make a legal contract to discuss the finer details.”

“It is going to be an honour to work with you.” Toyman said.

Rebel grinned under her mask. “It’s nice doing business with you, Toyman.”

“So when do I get started?”

“Tomorrow afternoon-ish. That’s when something would happen and you escape in the chaos.” 

“How would I know it happened?”

“You will know. And try not to get caught by the guy who wears the ‘S’. A second breakout might not be easy to plan.”

After she left, Toyman felt giddy at the taste of freedom and to make so many new toys.

—

“WHAT?!”

Black Mask reached into the box and took its content out.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” Black Mask said in angry disbelief as he held a doll in his hands.

Red Hood took that opportunity to tackle the man and handcuff him.

In his curiosity, Red Hood glanced into the box and saw that the box just contained dolls.

There was your typical Raggedy Ann, clowns, ventriloquist dummies, string puppets, those collector’s dolls with the pretty frilled dresses, a few Barbie dolls and some plushies that resembled some of the Bat vigilantes.

“Hood. Come in, Hood.” Batman’s voice came from his comms.

“Cool your jets, Batman. I got Black Mask. He managed to open the box but it’s just dolls inside. Rebel probably tried to scare us into not opening the box because they’re for a prank and it would ruin the surprise.”

“Good to hear.” Batman said with a hint of relief.

—

Tim curiously picked up the Robin plushie and inspected it.

The Bats had taken the box of dolls with them to the Batcave to later give back to Rebel.

“The quality is so good. The details are amazing and so accurate. Wonder who made it.” Tim wondered curiously before he discovered initials stitched in the inner lining of the cape of the toy.

“W.S.J” Tim read out as he traced the letters. There was a niggling thought at the back of his head that he should look into who the mysterious toymaker was.

Meanwhile, Steph was tentatively holding the Raggedy Ann doll and telling Jason about the true story behind the Annabelle movies.

“Did you know that the real Annabelle doesn’t actually look like the doll in the movies?” Steph said as she held up the Raggedy Ann to Jason, “It was actually a Raggedy Ann doll that looked just like this one.”

Jason frowned as he gave the doll a slightly wary look. “It doesn’t look creepy at all.”

“That’s what makes it so unsettling. Something innocent hiding its sinister nature.” Steph explained.

Damain frowned as he picked up one of the collector’s dolls. “I don’t see what is creepy about some toys.”

“It’s the terror of something that should be lifeless moving around. Something that should be harmless becomes something dangerous.” Jason mused.

“But why dolls? I don’t think a piece of porcelain dressed in lace could scare anyone. I would be sc…alarmed if Father’s dinosaur came to life but not these.” Damian said as he held up one of the dolls.

“You should try watching some horror movies.” Jason told Damian.

Cass picked up a ballerina string puppet she had found and showed it to Bruce with a questioning look.

“It’s a string puppet. Have you seen Pinocchio yet?”

“No.” Cass replied as she shook her head.

“Remind me at our next movie night. So the strings make the puppet move. Here look.” Bruce took the puppet from Cass and expertly manipulated the strings so the ballerina waved and walked a bit before breaking out a few ballet moves. Cass clapped with wonder at the end of his performance.

“Teach me?” Cass asked.

“Sure.” Bruce promised.

Next, Cass took out the ventriloquist dummy and inspected it.

“Scarface?” She asked.

“Yes. It’s a ventriloquist dummy just like Scarface. How it works is that the ventriloquist holds the dummy and throws his voice so it looks like it is the dummy that’s talking instead of the ventriloquist.”

“Show me.”

Bruce obliged as he slipped his hand into the dummy and the dummy started to move its mouth.

“Hello, Cass, nice to meet you.” said the Dummy as it held out its hand.

Cass shook its hand. “Hello.”

She asked Bruce, “Can I try?”

“Of course.” Bruce said as he gave her back the dummy.

Cass breathed in and out a few times and then raised the dummy up.

“Hello. Nice to meet you.” Cass’s voice came from the dummy this time.

Bruce smiled as he ruffled her hair. “You’re good at this.”

“Thank you.” said the Dummy.

“If you are all done playing, it’s time you all went to bed.” Alfred said as he brought in his famous after patrol snacks; cucumber sandwiches. “After a shower.”

Jason put the Raggedy Ann doll back into the box.

“Well, it’s late and I need to get back home.” Jason said as he walked towards his bike.

“You can stay the night, Master Jason.” Alfred said. “I have taken the liberty of cleaning your room.”

“Thank you, Alfred but…” Jason trailed off, not knowing how to convey that he didn’t want to stay in the Manor despite his truce tonight with Bruce but also not wanting to offend the butler/grandfather-figure.

“I understand, Master Jason. Perhaps another time.” Alfred said in his wise way.

“Thank you, Alfred.” This time, there was a look of gratitude in Jason’s eyes.

—-

The morning after was a busy and bustling day but there was something not right in the Wayne Manor.

Tim woke up from having fallen asleep while working on trying to find the maker of the dolls. His laptop had turned itself off sometime during the night. He stretched and yawned.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he spied the Robin plushie sitting on his bed.

“That’s strange. I could have sworn that I left you in the box last night.” Tim said, scratching his head. He picked the plushie up and examined it again in the morning light.

It was more accurate than Tim had initially found. In fact, it was like it was an exact likeness of him. Which was a very scary thought. He wondered how Toyman knew that he had a mole on his arm near his elbow and the birthmark on the side of his hips. Tim theorised that Rebel must be a very good stalker.

He put the plushie back on bed and headed down for breakfast. Tim didn’t see the plushie morphed its uniform into the outfit that Tim was wearing.

—-

Tim walked down to the kitchen and sat down.

He thanked Alfred who set down a delicious plate of pancakes in front of him.

“Morning, Steph.” Tim said to the blonde who was dressed in a purple cowgirl outfit and a white Stetson hat.

“Morning, Tim.”

“Who are you supposed to be anyways?” He asked.

“Barbie but with the Stephanie twist.” She replied.

“Ah. Gotcha.” Tim said after he finished his mouthful of pancake. “You look so realistic by the way.”

Bruce entered the kitchen and sat down with a groan, his hand massaging his neck.

“You okay, B?” “Just feeling a bit stiff. I’m not as young as I used to be.” Bruce replied with a grimace.

Slowly, the other occupants of the house trickled in and the kitchen was filled with the Waynes and Steph dug into their breakfast.

Dick came all the way from Bludhaven to help out on what is annually one of the worst nights of the year in Gotham. At least one Rouge would have plans for Halloween.

To break this peaceful moment would be one Jason Tood who angrily stomped into the kitchen, clutching a Raggedy Ann doll.

“Didn’t we agree on leaving me alone? That includes not finding out where my safehouses are.” Jason said.

He held up the doll and asked, “Which one of you left this at my place this morning as a prank?”

Several confused faces stared back at him.

“Was it you?” Jason pointed at Steph and demanded.

She put her hands up in surrender. “It wasn’t me. I was busy studying for the test I have today. Ask Bruce. He can tell you that he helped me with flashcards.”

“Then, was it you, Tim?”

Tim blinked at Jason. His mind took a few seconds to answer because Tim was not a morning person.

He shook his head.

“No. I was looking into who made these dolls.” Tim answered.

“Why?”

“The dolls all have the initial W.S.J. and they were all incredibly detailed. I also wanted to know why Rebel would need them. The maker turned out to be no one other than…” Tim dramatically paused: “Toyman.”

“Suddenly, I feel like we should have burned that box when we could.” Steph said to break the silence.

They should have.

—

“So how bad is it?” Dick asked Zatanna, anxious about what curse had befallen his family.

They had gone down to the Batcave to get rid of the box. Only to find it empty. It led to hours of searching for them. Except Tim never came back from his room to retrieve the Robin plushie.

Dick went to check on Tim only to find that he had turned into the plushie.

Imagine finding your brother missing and suddenly the mini plushie replica of your brother started moving and talking. It immediately went onto the top ten weirdest and scariest list of things Dick had experienced.

Then, the next to go was Steph who slowly became plastic. Her face was stuck in a smile while her skin hardened into shiny plastic. She was in class when it happened and they had to go pick her up.

Cass found the dummy but it got attached to her hand and started to speak on its own in Cass’s voice. Cass herself was unable to utter a word.

The stiffness that Bruce had complained about was the fact that he was slowly turning into wood and almost invisible strings controlling his every move.

The final terror was the Raggedy Ann doll that suddenly gained life and proceeded to hunt Jason down for sport. No matter how far Jason managed to get away from the doll and Dick’s best efforts to keep the doll contained, it still managed to escape to go after Jason.

Somehow, Dick, Alfred and Damian were the only ones unaffected by the ‘curse’. They managed to figure out why when Babara told them that Black Mask and his men were attacked by the missing dolls and some of them were experiencing the same things as the Bats and about Jason’s warning from Rebel before everything went down.

Desperate, Dick asked Superman to track down Toyman and asked him how to reverse the effect only to find out that he only made the dolls. The curse was someone else's doing. 

Which was why they had called Zatanna to see if she could reverse it.

“Well, there’s the good news and the bad news.” she announced. “Good news is that it is reversible and the curse only lasts for a day. I recommend to just wait it out because the reversing would take longer than the deadline. The curse is too complicated to simply undo.”

“So that’s the bad news?” “No. The bad news is that I recognised a bit of the spellwork. It is a bit similar to how my father would do it so chances are that whoever did this is a student of my father. The thing is I know most of my father’s students and what is bad is that I don’t recognise the magical signature of who put this curse on the dolls.”

Puppet Bruce jerked his head at the information that Zatanna had given them. Dick noticed.

“B?”

“Paris.” Bruce managed to get past with his wooden lips.

“Paris? Are you talking about the Miraculous?”

“Hero.”

“Wait, you think one of the Miraculous heroes is involved in this?”

Zatanna gasped. “I remember Batman telling me that Ladybug was a student of my father. I looked into his old journals and he mentioned a student named Marinette during his stay in Paris.”

“Marinette. Marinette. Why does it sound so familiar?” Dick tried to recall where he had heard that name before.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Damian answered for him. “It’s Rebel’s legal name.”

Just like that, pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

“Rebel used to be Ladybug.”

The revelation felt bitter on Dick’s tongue. He had seen the videos of Ladybug in action. He would say that she was inexperienced but she was compassionate and willing to lend a hand to anyone in need. He thought that it was nice of her to forgive her enemy instead of causing pain on the man who had caused her so much grief.

He couldn’t believe he saw the similarities between the two girls sooner.

Rebel was cunning and sharp enough to always stay a step ahead of them. Her planning and paranoia on par with the Batman himself. Useful skills to have as a hero.

Then again, Rebel couldn’t be more different from Ladybug. She was more cynical and petty. Rebel caused chaos wherever she goes instead of cleaning up the mess. She saw everything as a game and never took anything seriously. 

Dick wondered what it was that pushed Rebel over the edge. The line drawn between heroism and villainy. Then he remembered how Rebel was sent to Gotham in the first place.

“Damn. Rebel has really good valid reason to fuck that Hawkmoth guy up.” Jason said. “In fact, I am surprised she hasn’t razed Paris to ashes yet.”

“Can you imagine?” Zatanna said, having been briefed a bit on the Paris situation and had heard about Rebel’s kidnapping of Lois, “The city you gave so much to save, branding you as a criminal and sending you to one of the worst places on Earth.”

“People have turned to crime for less.” Damian pointed out.

“But Rebel used to be a hero. One of us essentially. It’s just sad that we had to meet her as people on opposite sides.” Dick said.

“It only shows her lack of will.” Damian said.

“I think Rebel had reached her breaking point and honestly, I might too if I face it all alone like she did.”

The Cave was in a sombre silence for the hero that once was Ladybug. Dick remembered something Bruce once said about Two-Face and Harvey Dent.

‘You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become a villain.’

—

The next day, just as Zatanna said, the spell wore off and everyone was human again and able to freely talk again. Other than some nightmares about the experience for a month or so, they were fine.

The Batfamily had a meeting about the new revelation that they had discovered last night.

“Bruce, tell us the truth. Did you know from the beginning?” Tim asked. “I only had suspicions but Zatanna confirmed them with her father’s journal.” Bruce answered. “This changes nothing.”

“It does, Bruce. You failed another young hero.” Jason said, his tone sharp and accusing. “Not even one of the ‘sidekicks’. You turned your back on the One Main Hero who had been there since the beginning and saw through it to the end. She didn’t get the happy ending she deserved. Instead, she was rewarded for her sacrifices by being sent to fucking Arkam Asylum in one of the most dangerous city in the world.”

“Todd, stop projecting. The way I see it, Rebel had seen the errors of her way and intended to fix her mistake regarding Hawkmoth. She should have locked him up when she had her chance.” Damian shot back.

“Boys, settle down. The fact of the matter is that whether Rebel used to be Ladybug or not, Hawkmoth needs to be arrested before Rebel does something more sinister than what she did yesterday.”

“Wasn’t it an accident?” Steph asked.

“According to Toyman, we had always been the intended recipients of that particular gift.” Dick answered. “It was dumb luck that Black Mask opened it while most of you were in the area.”

“After this latest incident, the League and I have decided that Rebel must be contained.” Bruce announced.

Jason jumped out of his seat. “Bruce, she’s just a kid!”

“But she’s a formidable threat. Who knows what else she might do if she is left unchecked and she doesn’t like the progress on the Hawkmoth investigation.”

Jason growled and then left.

Bruce told everyone that they should catch Rebel if they saw her before he ended the meeting.

—

Rebel stood in front of a half-finished mural, a spray can in hand.

“So we finally met, my dear daughter.” The voice belonged to the man who starred in Gotham’s nightmare.

Rebel didn’t bother to turn around and simply looked at him from over her shoulder.

“Which one are you?” She asked.

“I’m sorry?”

Rebel went back to spray-painting as she explained, “I know that there are at least three of you running around Gotham. I want to know which one you are.”

Joker laughed. A genuine laugh instead of the mad one he usually makes.

“You really do live up to your reputation, Rebel. I can tell that you are a real wildcard.” Joker said excitedly.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Very well then. I am the Joker. The original one. Not the copycats I made because I was bored. And Rebel, I am your father.”

----- (Part 7)

Taglist:  @toodaloo-kangaroo, @iloontjeboontje, @buginetye, @angelwreckedd, @anoires-blog, @ever-since-i-was-young, @shutupandactuallylisten, @its-maemain, @vel-vee, @kashlyn, @officiallydarkgeek, @jayjayspixiepop, @cmouse, @transheso, @thecrazyfantrolls, @just-a-random-girl-loves-anime, @maddiesupdates, @the-dumber-scaramouche,

#who made me a villain #biodad! joker #halloween special fic #maribat #ml x dc #superman makes an appearance #i have never watched the conjuring movies so don't come at me #would have tried to write it more scary if I had time #and descriptive skills

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Mirror, mirror on the wall" - Keoghan!Joker x Detective!Reader

[TW: scars, mentions of past abuse]

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

SUMMARY: A scar is not equal to another scar. Despite that, survivors are pretty much the same. Joker meets a detective who's not so easy to impress or intimidate.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.6k

A/N: got inspired by playing 'Still Life' for the hundredth time. Old game but still great and highly replayable.

Gordon wasn't one to joke around, especially when it came to the life and safety of Gotham and its citizens. Still, you couldn't believe he was absolutely serious:

"Look as much as I hate to say it if there’s someone who can get some sense out of that madman, it’s you," Gordon confessed.

He's been at this for the entire week, no matter what excuse you gave him. Normally, he would be a lot more civil and drop the subject the moment you said "no" for the first time but, unfortunately for you, he was a little too desperate. You knew he simply cared and felt like there was nothing else he could do to push the investigation forward. It was that uncharacteristic pushiness that made you question your own will - if there truly was no one else and Gordon was crumbling feeling powerless, maybe you could take a leap out of your comfort zone and into the deep, dark chasm of uncharted trauma.

"Why me, Gordon?" you asked in a weak voice. Truthfully, you weren't sure why you were even asking him that question - you knew perfectly well why.

"You've been through shit, detective. Shit I can't put into words. You got a good look into a psycho's mind and came out alive. You survived history's worst and that changes people."

Elegant euphemisms were one of the reasons Gordon was so good with people. He knew that "change" barely scratched the surface of what happened to you.

"What about your bat partner in crime?"

The officer stood with his hands on his hips. He shook his head slightly before answering you.

"Batman may be good, really damn good but he lacks your self-control. Get him in a room with that guy and he’ll scream and bang on the glass like he did with the Riddler. Maybe even worse. And that ain’t gon’ get us anything useful out of him."

Gordon was right. You knew that, although didn't want to admit it as admitting it would rid you of all of your excuses and you'd have to face and make use of something that murdered a part of you years ago. A scar had to become a medal.

"Alright," you said quietly. Gordon's shoulders momentarily slouched. "I'll try but no promises."

"Good enough for me. Thank you, detective. I know how much this costs you."

"No, you don't, Gordon."

He didn't try to argue or reason. There was no way in which he could relate to your experience - to that dark basement and rusty chains. Although it gnawed at him, that he couldn't offer genuine understanding and sympathy to someone he cared about, Gordon was secretly relieved, even happy, that he was unable to. He saw how those terrifying days changed you, made you into an entirely new person and he lived in fear of what they would have done to him.

You would live a happy life never stepping foot on Arkham Island. The barbed wire, neogothic buildings, unkept gardens - all of that painted a grim picture of an already unwelcoming place. Arkham Asylum looked like Tim Burton's theme park joke was taken too far.

"My condolences, ma'am," the guardian who was leading you said. "Over here, we do everything not to end up in the same room with that freak and you came here willingly."

"Wouldn't call that 'willingly'," you said under your breath. Had Gordon appeared any less desperate or powerless, you wouldn't have agreed.

"Warden Sharp agreed to one hour interview," the guardian continued. He stopped in front of the door to the visiting room, his hand resting on the door handle. "If you need more time, your supervisor gotta send in a query. I know you probably know all the rules but I'm still required to tell you them, so: don't touch the divider, don't provoke him, don't hand out any prohibited objects. The guards are authorized to step in and immediately end the interview should they deem the situation dangerous for either party. Good luck with whatever you have going on, detective."

The guard gave you a sympathetic look and pushed the door open. For some reason, the lighting was outstandingly dim inside the room. While the side where the prisoners sat was bright, the visitors could barely see anything on theirs. Without a hint of anxiety in your step or facial expression, you entered the visiting room.

Once he got to see your outline in the corridor lights, Joker's eyes kept following each of your movements and microexpressions. Even when the bizarre darkness made you disappear for a moment, it felt as if he was still capable of seeing not only you but through you. There was a mischievous yet amused smile on his face. His visual did not terrify you - it no longer could. One simply cannot get scared of clowns after playing statues with the Devil himself.

"I'm a detective with the Gotham Police Department," you said as you sat down and pulled out the file you brought. "We're investigating recent bombings happening throughout the city."

"Sorry, sweetheart, can't remember making anything go ka-byool lately." His handcuffs rattled as he waved his fingers to accentuate his point. Joker's hands were drenched with already dried blood. That sight hit a little too close to home for you but you took a calm, deep breath and didn't let your sudden uneasiness show.

"Maybe not you but one of your old friends possibly had."

You pulled a few papers stuck together with a paperclip out of the police file. Carefully, you slid the small dossier through the small opening in the Plexi divider. It was a very 'train station booking office' design.

At the very top of the papers was a mugshot. The picture presented a heavily tattooed man with a bizarre haircut and a harelip: Cooper, who used to be something akin to an underboss before his boss, Joker, got locked up. Curiously, Cooper seemed to literally vanish off the face of Earth as soon as that happened.

Joker barely spared a glance at the picture when he voiced an opinion with utmost certainty:

"Nah, it's not him."

He pushed the papers back towards you with disinterest. It shouldn't be surprising: he surely knew more about Cooper and his possible associates than the police did. You couldn't tell him anything new.

"What makes you say that?" you asked. Joker only laughed.

"He's an absolute, complete, useless moron. He lacks the, hmm... " he paused looking for the right word while waving his hands, "sophistication for something this big."

"And yet he was your go-to for so many years. How did that work out?"

"Darling, you know what's great about working with idiots?"

"They don't ask questions?"

"Oh, you were so close!" he exclaimed giddily. "They don't question."

Were all antisocial people so nitpicky?

Although the building was old and made of stone, the air inside was very warm. Feeling a little hot, you rolled up the sleeves of your shirt, reluctantly presenting the very thing that made you eligible for that lovely interrogation you were conducting: various burns and scars left from chains digging into your skin. At least once a day you considered getting full sleeve tattoos to cover them up but it wasn't considered exactly professional among higher ranked police force. You didn't need another stigma following you and your career.

"It's you." Joker cackled with mysterious satisfaction. Was he expecting you? Truthfully, it wouldn't be so surprising: your survival made national news and the demimonde, directly connected to your capturing, could only be equally interested. "Please, indulge me, princess peach."

"How about you tell me what you know about the bombings and I'll tell you about what gives me sleepless nights."

"Aw, you're trynna tease me, officer?" His pronunciation of the title was at least mocking. It didn't impress him one bit and neither did the badge. "I don't like teases. They ruin the fun."

"Treat it as a fair exchange. Intel," you pointed at yourself first, "for intel." You pointed at Joker to make your point.

"And what if you're boring, princess peach?" he asked with a whine in his voice. "Who will guarantee my fun time?"

"No one," you answered with a shrug. Although that wicked smile never left his face, you thought that a shadow of viciousness appeared in his eyes. Something about your aloofness was getting to him. "You either play with fire or there's no deal. Just you and your sad little life in your sad little cell. No fun for either of us."

"Risky business, princess peach," he sang to you.

You had to make him cooperate somehow or anyhow. Momentarily, you leaned closer to the Plexi divider. The tip of your nose was nearly touching it. Joker's smile only widened.

"You tell me what I want and I'll tell you everything you want to know," you said quietly. "Every darkest, most fearful memory I have. You want to hear what he did to me and how? How loud I prayed to God to finally kill me? First, you gotta tell me about Cooper and who he could be working with."

Joker was quiet but appeared very cocky in his silence. For a moment he was simply staring at you, his eyes studying your face - he was evidently waiting for something.

"I'm looking forward to our little dates, sweetheart."

It was suspicious to you that between you and Joker, he was the one imprisoned and yet he seemed to be the only one enjoying himself. He wasn't stupid - he knew you needed him more than he needed you. In fact, he probably had figured out that if Gotham's police goes to him for help, you must be in a really hopeless place. Joker was going to milk your little arrangement as much as he could - that you were already certain of.

#joker x reader #joker x detective!reader #the batman 2022 #the batman fanfiction #the batman fanfic #the batman imagine #joker imagine #joker fanfiction #joker fanfic #the joker imagine #the joker fanfiction #the joker fanfic #the joker x detective!reader #the joker x you #keoghan!joker x you #keoghan!joker imagine #keoghan!joker fanfiction #keoghan!joker #keoghan!joker x reader

[cer-rata]

Can we talk about Catwoman, Bruce Wayne and maybe a little about the concept of crime?

Just gonna get it out of the way: Yes Gotham war is bad for many clear, obvious reasons. It reads like like crack fic, though I personally believe that's more on editorial than Zdarsky, as this is perhaps one of the most clearly top-down, artificial, corporate plots since Civil War II.

But I'm not going to focus on the genuinely hilarious ideas here, and instead talk about the original sin: Selina's big idea.

It immediately falls apart under any basic scrutiny: How is she convincing all of these wildly different people to become cat burglars? That's not an easy skill set to teach, especially at this scale. If the whole issue is as simple as a lack of work skills, why didn't she teach them anything else? Literally anything? If she has this level of reach and status to be able to convince 75%(!!!) of the underworld to throw in with her why would she use it this way?

On a level Catwoman has always had her nose closer to the ground that Batman could ever. She lives in the gray areas of Gotham. She gets, on a personal level, the ways that society fails the little people and she's been pretty consistent about going to the paint to help people in bad situations. So her wanting to really support people and get them a better shake is very in line with her character.

But she's never been dumb or blindly idealistic and certainly not naive. In fact if anyone should be able instantly suss out the logical problems with this concept, it would be the woman who probably understands Gotham's underbelly better than anyone else. She understands how the business works and would know that you can't support an entire criminal economy on stealing from the homes of the wealthy. Selina has been so successful because she's the BEST at what she does, and because her style is uncommon enough that most people aren't expecting to get hit by her. Suddenly there are what, thousands of cat burglars just running around every night? Then the rich just increase their security, and then what? The idea that it worked at all is such an assault on the suspension of disbelief. And it implies a fundamental misunderstanding of crime and what Bruce/Batman is even trying to do.

See there's an implicit suggestion here that Selina is trying to take care of people while Bruce only cares about penalizing offenders, and that's just...a really bad fanon take honestly. It stems partially from the problem of using "criminal" to describe a class of people. The idea that some people are just criminals to be stopped because all they can understand is crime. That's not a helpful or realistic way to look at crime. I think we understand that people turn to crime for many diverse reasons. We flatten their narratives because there's no time to go into the complex motivations of each Two-Face grunt, but in better written works it's implied to be there regardless.

On numerous occasions, it has been made very clear that Bruceman understands this. How could he not? He's one of the most intelligent creatures on the planet, and his autistic special interest is criminology. Like, he knows, he obviously knows, especially at this point in his career. A lot of damage has been done by the idea that Bruce Wayne and Batman are fundamentally separate people. there's plenty of drama in the discussion of being torn between a normal life and the obsession, but the obsession is always there, mask or not. Batman isn't supposed to be some bizarre divergent personality, and no I am not going to talk about Zur and you can't make me! He has historically used his money and influence to support less fortunate Gothamites since always. He's not some out of touch uber-wealthy person who thinks that beating poor people is the only answer. He's been written like that before by people who wish he was Rorschach instead, but that is not the overarching norm of his character. It's a sin comparable with forgetting that Clark Kent is an actual investigative reporter. Bruce Wayne works to counter the structural inequality that leads to common crime, and Batman steps in to protect people from violence, and uncommon, existentially different criminals. Penguin, Black Mask, Falcone--sure Batman will stop a mugging, but he really exists to punish the people who are benefiting off of the suffering of others. Even then, he'd still prefer if they redeemed themselves and moved on.

This is from the 2004 The Batman cartoon tie-in, but I think it illustrates the point really well.

Like I've said before in other posts, violence is a tool in his belt, but he knows it's not the solution. Batman dissuades, Bruce Wayne offers support and options. Unfortunately, popular discussion on Bruceman has lost a lot of this plot, and focuses on the eye catching brutality that the movies and popular dark adaptations have championed. So what we get is this weird meta commentary that is supposed to make Batman look like a violent totalitarian punching down on people and missing the point when in reality, he gets the point! He super gets the point! The reason he doesn't kill is that he believes everyone deserves to try to be better, that concept makes no sense with a Batman who doesn't see criminals as people! Selina doesn't even have a point! She's supposed to represent a more socially conscious, compassionate, realistic perspective, but she's just not correct! It's an insane nothing-burger even before he completely loses his mind because of the plot. There are legitimate ideological issues to be pulled out between he and Selina. If she had become a crime boss like Jason tried to (and once did herself if I remember correctly) and used that to suppress the worse actors in a way he couldn't, you could really have them reckon with what they're willing to do to keep people safe and where the line actually is. Because they're all criminals in the end, what matters is where they draw the line. Batman works with plenty of dangerous and formally dangerous criminals actually, Harley and Ghost-Maker and Jason and Damian and--he's not some stupid inflexible hardliner cop. Stories where Batman is zealous about crime as like an amorphous concept are insane because they suggest that he doesn't recognize that his extrajudicial nature already complicates matters. That's another reason he doesn't kill by the way! He doesn't think he's the law! He's just a guy! Why should he get to decide the value of someone's life? But even then, the idea that the whole family would fall into civil war over Bruce and Selina having an ideological tiff is such an affront to all of them as individual characters. None of them are stupid enough to deal with things this way. It's not an exploration of character flaws if you're just making them stupid.

There's a problem about writers coming onto Batbooks and revealing that they have done no research into why people commit crimes and it creates narratives where Batman also doesn't understand the point, when he has and should!

Tldr,

Writers, stop pretending that Batman doesn't understand the social/systemic aspect of crime, and also maybe look into how it actually works yeah?

#dc comics #dc editorial answer for your crimes #batman #bruce wayne #selina kyle #bad writing #meta analysis

[p-artsypants]

Paint it Black (17) Testing

Ao3 | FF.net

Starfire awoke suddenly. A hand violently smacked against her face, and an elbow collided with her stomach. Given her natural resilience to physical blows, they didn’t so much hurt as startle. 

She sat up quickly, quickly orienting herself. She was in bed, next to Black, where they had fallen asleep together while talking. 

Now, he had his eyes clenched shut tight as he tossed and turned in agony. A grimace pulled at his lips as he bared his teeth. 

“Robin?” She shook him gently. 

He thrashed involuntarily, kicking and whipping his arms around, knocking a pillow off the bed. 

“I will take you to the medical bay,” she declared, grabbing his flailing wrist. 

The touch seemed to hurt as he cried out in pain. 

“I’m sorry,” she sternly pulled him to her body, pinning his limbs. “I can’t allow you to hurt yourself.” 

He continued to jerk and wriggle as they swiftly traveled. He moaned and whined, but didn’t scream, which she was thankful for as she didn’t think she could handle it. 

When they arrived at the med bay, she made quick work of getting him onto the bed, and restrained. “It is not ideal,” she apologized. “But it is only temporary, and only so you do not hurt yourself. I will return shortly.” 

As a girl on a mission, she zipped through the halls. Cyborg’s room was the closest, so she entered and awoke him. 

“Many apologies for disrupting your sleep cycle, but I believe the time has come to perform Robin’s blood test.” 

Cyborg blinked his human eye at her, blearily. “Oh, gotcha. It’ll take a second for my system to start up. But I’ll meet you there.” 

“Very well. I shall go inform Mr. Batman.” 

At Robin’s room, where Batman was staying, she knocked once. He answered fairly quickly, making her wonder if he was even asleep. 

“He’s ready?” Bruce asked, by way of greeting.

“I believe so. He is in the medical room. He was unresponsive and his body moved against his will. I have restrained him.”

“I see. Good work. I’ll go tend to him. Why don’t you let the others know? They might want a chance to see Robin, if he’ll make an appearance.” 

“Yes sir.” 

—-

When Starfire returned to the med bay with Raven with her, Cyborg, Bruce, and Alfred were hard at work. 

Alfred was the one taking the blood sample, while Cyborg and Bruce held Robin still. 

Starfire and Raven took up their places and helped. 

“Unfortunately,” Bruce began, “we might end up having to take a few tests over time, depending how much fentanyl is in his system.” 

“And we can’t give him Narcan?” Cyborg asked. 

“There would be no point. At this stage, he’s not under the effect of any opioids, and giving him anything would further mess with the test.”

“I have a sample,” stated Alfred, capping off the IV port. 

“I’ve got the computer all ready for analysis,” Cyborg gestured, leading Bruce into the next room. 

Robin continued to moan softly. But his movements were less erratic and spaced farther apart. He was sweating profusely. 

Starfire wetted a washcloth with cool water and gently wiped his face and neck. 

Shortly after, Beast Boy arrived, still in his pajamas. “Sorry I’m late,” he yawned. “Did I miss the test?”

“They’re analyzing it now,” Raven provided. 

“Cool. I hate needles. How’s Robby?”

“Unresponsive,” Starfire lamented as she dabbed his face. 

“What did he say when he came to you?” Raven asked. “Was he a little responsive then?”

Starfire blushed slightly. “It was several hours ago. He could not sleep and he came to me to tell me of his time in captivity. Eventually, we both fell asleep.” 

“That’s not really a conversation most people would fall asleep to…” Beast Boy smirked.

“You are correct, but I believe he felt…relaxed. I took notes, and I will share with those who wish to know. I will caution, it is not easy to hear.” 

Bruce and Cyborg returned a minute later. “I think I'd like to get another test in about an hour. There’s trace amounts of fentanyl in the system that will throw off the antidote formula. In the meantime, the computer is at least compiling a list of components to counter the poisons.”

“What do we do in the meantime?”

“We wait. As long as someone sits up with him, the rest of you can go back to sleep.” 

“Ugh,” groaned Beast Boy. “After all that? Boooo.” He morphed into a cat and jumped up to curl up to sleep on a chair. 

“I shall stay up with him,” Starfire stated. 

“I’d stay too,” said Cyborg. “But I’d like to finish charging my batteries in case of an emergency.” 

“I’ll make some coffee,” said Raven.

“I shall assist,” offered Alfred. 

After they all left, it was just Bruce and Starfire left behind. The room turned rather quiet, as the only sounds were the beeps and boops of the medical equipment. Robin’s groans of pain had calmed down considerably, though he didn’t appear to be any more comfortable or relaxed. His face was tight as his mouth twisted into a grimace.

Starfire frowned harshly as she wetted the wash cloth again and put it on his face. It was so unfair that he had to be in all this pain and couldn’t even have any medicine to help. 

“When I came to Earth,” Starfire said aloud. “I had just escaped a Gordianian slave ship. Prior to that, I was held captive by the Psions and experimented on to satisfy their sick curiosities.” 

Bruce had the impression that Starfire liked to hold conversation, but this wasn’t your average small talk.

“I have seen many horrible things. Human morality is not the standard across the universe. Many fellow prisoners were killed over scraps of food. Pain was an expectation. Out of my friends here, I believe I was the most prepared to hear of Robin’s time in captivity. Even then, some of the things he said made me sick to my nine stomachs. There is causing pain because you do not care about the people around you, only your survival. And then there is causing pain because it gives you great delight and pleasure.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes, giving her his undivided attention. 

“I used to believe that the Psions were the most evil creatures in the universe, because they caused pain for curiosity's sake. But even that can have an ounce of good in it. But what these men did…” 

Bruce closed his eyes, all too familiar with the torture she had probably been told about. 

“Humans are so complex and nuanced. I stayed on Earth because its inhabitants are beautiful creatures,” she delicately pushed some of Robin’s hair away from his face. “But this was a side of humanity I wish I never knew existed.” 

“The Joker is an exception. His depravity isn’t the norm. It does happen, and has happened if you look over the span of human history. But those actions are largely considered abhorrent. Don’t lose sight of the beauty in humanity. We need more people like you, Starfire.” Bruce said this with such conviction and ferocity, she didn’t expect it. 

“But…”

“In our line of work, it is so easy to become jaded. To think that humanity is beyond saving. Especially in Gotham,” he chuckled mirthlessly. “That place is a cesspool, and I often find myself wondering if my work will ever be done. But then I see parents out with their kids, or a student walking a dog, or teenagers laughing and eating pizza. I see lives that are complex and full of nuance, and they need our protection from the exceptions.” 

A smile, however small and sad, graced Starfire’s face. “I suppose you would be correct. You have been doing this much longer than I have, so you would know. I shall take your advice to heart.” 

Bruce didn’t say it, or even let any part of his face convey it, but he was glad that Robin was around Starfire. She was a good influence, and would bring better healing than he ever could. Instead, he said, “thank you, for telling me about your past. I understand you better now.” 

A genuine smile painted her face.

“Star?” A small voice spoke from the bed. 

“Robin?” She perked up slightly, and leaned in to tend to him. 

“Star? Starfire?” He asked again, his head lulling back and forth. 

“I am here, my dear Robin.” She undid the restraints that bound his wrist and took hold of his hand. “I am right here.” She spoke softly.

Robin tightened the hold, almost like he was checking to make sure she was real. 

Bruce quietly got up to let the others know that he was awake. 

“How…do you feel?” He croaked. 

“What? Why do you ask such a thing? I should be asking you.” 

He moved his hand up to touch her neck. “I hurt you, Star…I hurt you…” 

“Oh Robin, that was not you. And I am fine. You know it will take more than that to damage me.” 

“I’m sorry,” he sniffed. “I’m so sorry…” 

“You have been forgiven.” She petted his hair. “Do not fret, dear Robin.” 

“I hate this. I hate all of this,” he cringed as a wave of pain rolled through him. “I can see you, when Black is in control. I can see you, I can hear you…but I can’t do anything else.” 

“We will have you fixed soon. They shall take another blood test and create an antidote for the poison.”

“I can’t wait,” he winced. “Because this sucks.” 

Beast Boy shifted back from a cat. “I thought I heard Robin’s voice, is he…?”

“H-hey Beast Boy…” Robin managed to smile. 

“Hey buddy! Good to see you! How you feeling?”

Robin shook his head slightly. “Not...not great.” 

“Yeah…that’s fair,” Beast Boy gave his leg a pat. 

Robin swallowed thickly as he met Beast Boy’s eyes. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Beast Boy startled at the sudden compliment. Robin didn’t hand them out very often. “For what?”

“My puzzle. It was the only thing I could think of that wasn’t suspicious…and someone on the team would figure out.” 

“Well, Raven was the one that figured out that you were picking songs on purpose. So I can’t take all the credit.” 

Robin’s eyes crinkled with something akin to mirth, “I’ll have to thank her too, then.”

“Looks like you can do that right now!” Starfire chirped as Raven and Alfred came into the room. 

“What is he doing?” Raven asked. 

“Thank you for helping Beast Boy–” a wince, “solve my code.” 

She sat beside him and held his hand. “Anytime.” 

He squeezed her back. “I’m sorry I yelled at you…I was so relieved…when you made it inside my head. Having this…disease with Black is like my captivity is still going on. Even now, when I can finally speak, I know it won’t last.” He sniffed. 

“It won’t be much longer,” Starfire comforted. “But Robin, we do not place any fault or blame on you for this situation. I have been studying psychology in an effort to help you. From my understanding, Dissociative Identity Disorder develops from shocking events as a coping mechanism. Children that had something traumatic happen during their childhood are at a higher risk, and from what we heard of your past…” 

“Dissoci–is that what this is?” He cringed. “That’s what they call Multiple Personality now, right?” 

“I am far from qualified to confirm a diagnosis, but it seems fairly obvious to me.” 

“Agreed dude,” said Beast Boy. “I don’t even know what Dissa–Dia–Diablo Dent—”

“Dissociative Identity Disorder.”

“Yeah, I don’t really know what that is, but you definitely have two personalities.” 

Robin clenched his eyes shut as the pain and disappointment rolled over him. “Then…they were successful. They did it. I’m…I’m just like Dent.” 

“Not quite,” Bruce said from the doorway. 

Robin turned to look at him, mortified. Of course, he had known that Bruce was in Jump, but seeing him in person, after everything he had done, was a different story. “B-Bruce, I’m so…so sorry…” 

“Hey, Dick, calm down.” The man said as he sat by his IV port. “It’s okay.” 

“I messed up…I messed up so bad.” A tear ran down his cheek. 

“You couldn’t have known they were in Jump and responsible for this. You noticed something was wrong at the psychiatric unit and acted. Messing up would have been brushing off all the signs I taught you and letting them disappear without a trace. So stop beating yourself up.” He prepared the next vial for a blood sample. “Starfire is right that your secondary personality is a coping mechanism for trauma. But how stable or powerful it is without that poison in your system, that is yet to be determined.”

“And the opioids,” Robin whispered. 

“And the opioids.” Bruce worked quickly to get another sample. “We’ll see if this one is good. If it is, we’ll get you a drip with painkillers in it.” 

Robin’s lip trembled. “Just sedate me. I don’t…I don’t want him to talk anymore. He needs to die.” 

Alfred responded, “We have the means and knowledge to patch you up, but anesthesia is another matter entirely. One I am not comfortable attempting with all that is in your system.” 

Robin scrunched up his face as he was filled with more pain, anger, and humiliation. 

“I’ve been treating it like you’re drunk,” said Beast Boy. “Not that I hang around that many drunk people, but you know how they say crap they normally wouldn’t say when they’re sober? It’s kinda like that. Except you actually remember the stuff you say, so that’s a bit of a bummer.” 

Robin coughed, and a little black spittle splattered on the sheets. 

“Looks like visiting hours are over,” Bruce said determinedly. “Get him hooked up to the fentanyl. I’m going to run this sample. We’ve waited until the last possible second, so this is as good as we’re going to get.” 

Things moved quickly then. Beast Boy went to get Cyborg, while Bruce and Alfred got to work. Raven stood by Robin’s head and used her healing powers to calm his mind. 

While Starfire sat by his side, holding his hand, and feeling helpless.

Once the fentanyl was administered, they waited with bated breath to see what would happen. After about twenty minutes, Robin looked more relaxed and his complexion cleared. 

“He’s asleep,” Starfire noted. 

“As I would be,” said Alfred. “He was in pain all day. He must be exhausted.” 

Beast Boy returned. “Cy’s helping Batman with the antidote. How’s he doing?” 

“Better, it seems,” said Raven. “He’s resting. We haven’t seen Black reappear.” 

Beat Boy sighed. “Then I feel like I can relax. It was really hard to sit by while he was in that much pain.” 

“Indeed,” said Starfire, never once taking her eyes off of Robin’s sleeping face. 

About an hour later, Robin was still asleep. Bruce and Cyborg came into the room, looking cautiously optimistic. 

“We’ve got the formula for an antidote,” said Bruce. “I’ll need to talk to one of my connections to get some of the components, but I think we’re good to go.” 

“Wonderful!” Starfire chirped, slightly floating. 

“But,” Bruce interrupted them before they could begin celebrating. “There’s still no guarantee this will fix him. If this really is a case of DID, a shot of chemicals won’t fix it.” 

There was silence before Beast Boy, before anyone else, stated, “well, what’s most important is his physical health first, right? This should keep him from putting himself in danger to get a fix, and he won’t deal with the poison pain, right?” 

Bruce nodded. “That’s my hope. From here out, we’ll have to be looking for what triggers his personality. Maybe moments of stress will make that other personality come out. Maybe it will fade entirely with the poison neutralized. We have to be prepared for anything.”

“That’s kind of a risk of the job, isn’t it?” Cyborg mused. “Stopping crime is fun and feels good, but there’s always a chance you are irreparably damaged. You just have to roll with it.”

“One more thing,” Bruce crossed his arms. “If Black wakes up before we administer the antidote, we shouldn’t mention what its goal is. If he realizes the poison in his body is what lets him exist, he may become uncooperative.” 

“It’s probably best he stays in here until it’s administered, then,” stated Raven. “And we should keep the restraints on his legs.” 

Starfire landed on the floor again. 

“So, playing the waiting game again, huh? My favorite…” Beast Boy morphed into a cat again and resumed his nap. 

“Is any of that coffee ready?” Bruce asked Alfred. “I’ll take a cup in the office. I have an email to write.” 

As everyone filtered out, Starfire was left alone with a sleeping Robin. She sat on the bed, and just watched him. Watched as his chest rose and fell with deep breaths. Watched for any sign of discomfort, but he was still.

Disease. Irreparably damaged. He needs to die. 

Starfire didn’t know how to feel. Black was an unstable, volatile character that was unpredictable. But…he was a friend. And he was part of Robin. A coping mechanism. She didn’t really like him as a replacement to Robin, but on his own…

Would it feel like curing an illness? Or sacrificing a person?

Ultimately, it wasn’t up to her. It was Robin’s choice. And Robin was trapped, and needed to be free. There was no point in considering alternatives. If the antidote killed Black, then so be it. 

Carefully, Starfire laid down on the bed, right beside Robin, and rested her head on his chest. 

“I’m sorry.” 

—

“It’s done.” 

Bruce set the tray down on the table next to the hospital bed. Inside the tray was a set of syringes filled with a pink liquid, and the kit for administering it. “Fomepizole, potassium phosphate, prednisolone, and good ole Sodium bicarbonate.”

“But is it bubblegum flavored?” Black asked. 

“Yes, but you won’t be tasting it,” said Bruce. “We’re injecting it right where we took your blood sample last night.” 

“Then why bother flavoring it?”

“Because I knew you’d ask.” 

There was a pause before Black nodded knowingly. “You’re joking. That was a joke.” 

“I’m chock full of them.” Bruce took a seat and snapped on the gloves. “Now, the antidote has to be administered in steps. Because it neutralizes the poison in your system, a chemical reaction will take place. The chemical reaction could cause some adverse side effects if administered all at once.”

“Like what? Will I turn purple?” 

“In a way…” Bruce said vaguely, not elaborating. “We’re going to give you the first dose, then in an hour, then next. I can’t guarantee it’ll be a pleasant experience either, but once it’s over, you should be all free of the pain of the poison.” 

Black looked highly skeptical as he frowned and bit his lip. “I suppose I don’t really have the choice in backing out now, do I?”

“Not a chance. We went to a lot of work to make this.” 

“Fine then.” Black grumbled, but relented. “Bottoms up,” then he turned to look at Starfire. “That’s what people say when they take a shot.” 

Starfire squinted her eyes in confusion, but decided not to ask for clarification. 

Bruce pushed the first dose of the antidote, and gnawed on his tongue while he waited for a reaction. 

“Ohh, that burns. Not as bad as the poison they gave me, though,” Black wiggled his fingers as a heat traveled up his arm. “Okay, it’s getting a little…worse…” His eyes began to droop as his head tilted forward. His skin flushed and his breathing became heavy. 

“Just relax,” Bruce gently pushed him back so his head rested on the mattress. 

“I’m…burning…fuzzy burning…” 

“Yep,” he hooked the saline drip back up. “That’s what Lucius said would happen. You remember our friend Lucius Fox, right?” 

“...ears…and a tail…” 

Bruce shook his head and looked at the Titans. “We won’t really know how it worked until we’re all done with the dosing, and that will take a few hours. Until then, he’s likely going to be in and out of consciousness. If he’s awake, he won’t be coherent.” 

Beast Boy gave a long, exaggerated sigh. “And so again, we wait…” 

Like divine providence, the alarms sounded, muted slightly in the med bay, but flashing red lights all the same. 

“Or not,” Beast Boy perked up. 

Bruce removed the gloves. “How bad is it?” 

Cyborg analyzed the report on his arm. “Looks like Billy Numerous.” 

“Is that bad?” 

“He can divide himself into an army of clones. He has a limit, but it’s in the thousands.” 

“And he has an annoying accent,” added Raven, under her breath. 

“Master Bruce, I am perfectly capable of finishing this on my own,” said Alfred. “You should aid the Titans.” He took Bruce’s seat. “You could use the distraction.” 

“Fine. Sounds like you guys could use all the help you can get with a villain like that.” 

“I call shotgun in the Batmobile!” Beast Boy damn near screamed.

#fanfiction #teen titans #robin #starfire #robstar #paint it black #dick grayson #koriand'r #dickory

[werezmastarbucks]

4. Fix it

part 4 out of 8

word count: 1428

The dust had set, and he collapsed on his knees, chewing on the iron in his mouth. Barry was exhausted, so exhausted that the sky pulsated in his eyes. His energy was so low he could just lay and sleep, but the adrenaline didn't let him stop. He kept scanning around with his eyes, thunder in his head still ringing from the fall. Everything was backwards, it was evil, what happened, he didn't know what to do. All his life, he ran. It was easy. He could run. Now his legs didn't work and his brain stopped communication with him. He felt like a little calf as her hand tried to lift him up.

"Barry", Diana took his forearm and pulled, and he couldn't resist, like a puppet. She forced him on his feet, and he saw her face, smeared with the dust. Dust, it was everywhere, sand like powder, poison, greenish-yellow, it made his throat hurt. Diana's own throat gave a weird sound, like she couldn't swallow something sharp. He watched her eyes intently. No. She was crying.

"Oh, don't tell me..."

"He's dead, Barry. I can't find the others. Help me, let's go".

Paralyzed, his legs were moving automatically.

Superman can't be dead, he thought. He thought he said it out loud, but no, only in his head. Superman can't be dead! he screamed like a boy. And again, no sound left his mouth. His thoughts flew on to all the kinds of consequences and finally, reached home. Oh no. Superman is dead.

_______________

He was sitting, seeing only with one eye because half of his face was covered with a pack of ice. Curious, he thought, he was actually the only one who was hurt constantly and was visibly getting some treatment, because his regeneration went at turtle pace compared with the others. Funny! Diana, she was invincible. Aquaman, equally strong, it took a lot, and really, a lot, to hurt him. Cyborg - well, was a cyborg. Batman never let them see if he was ever injured, thinking it would lower the morale. Superman-

It never occurred to any of them that Superman could be actually killed.

Now they sat there like a bunch of idiots around the table, and Barry blinked with only one eye, thinking, now what?

Bruce took off his mask, and, laying on the table on its side, it looked like the remnants of what was left of his spirit. Barry felt light, almost sedated, because reality wouldn't hit him. No, it was like a tv show or something.

"What happened there?" Wayne asked. Somehow everybody knew that number two was Diana, and that all those grave questions were always addressed to her. She replied, looking at the table,

"He left me to go on and keep the Comers alone. We didn't know they had the stone".

"How would they even get it?" Victor asked. Barry's face was hot, he didn't know why exactly. Maybe he was crying, maybe, it was so swollen and infected that it was about to burst with some alien spiders.

"I should've held him, I should've grabbed him, we ought to know that they weren't coming in such small numbers unprepared", Diana pressed. Bruce rubbed his face really hard, smearing dust, paint and sweat on it. He looked thirty years older, a man with such a heavy, heavy load on his shoulders it was about to crush his spine again.

"Don't beat yourself up, Diana", Arthur responded. "If Bruce had shared the exact plan of the terrain, like was the initial idea, and let us..."

"We didn't have time", Bruce boomed, tiredly, "you've seen yourself, they started coming way before we got ready".

Arthur pointed a finger at him,

"The time, exactly. I told you before, back in April, remeber? The fish were talking..."

Barry drifted. He felt sleepy, disgusted with himself, for some reason. It felt like an exceptionally difficult level to beat, frustrating. The ice started to melt and drip down his face so he put it away on the table, and Bruce burst suddenly,

"Barry! I told you not to put liquid on this desk, time and time again! It's a computer!"

Like he was a ten year old misbehaving boy.

Diana almost slapped him.

"Don't take it out on him! Stop yelling!"

Barry froze, fixated on Bruce's distorted face. A thought came, reinforced by all of them one after another, with one word.

Time.

"I could go back and fix it", he said quielty. His jaw hurt, and he wanted nothing more, he thought with sudden warmth, than to come home and shyly complain to his roommate who always offered uncertain, but big hugs. All his pain was taken away immediately as he held her.

"Excuse me?" Victor asked.

"The kid banged his head so hard, he's glitching now", Arthur complained. Barry met Diana's piercing eyes.

"I could theoretically outrun the light. I've nearly done it once or twice. It's possible".

He licked his lips, thinking. To help, he wiped the pack of almost melted ice form the desk and started rubbing it dry. Then, he activated the computer and opened himself a note app.

He started doodling, solely to help him speak.

"When I move too fast, I break the barrier, and then the light gets left behind, which means the time is no longer fixed for me. If I can keep up long enough - say, ten or twelve seconds, - I can create quantum paradox. I'll develop such speed, above eight million miles, that it gets very hard to stop, and the momentum wil throw me further. I can go back before he shook you off, Diana, and save Superman".

He looked up. Diana's face had the horror expression he didn't expect.

"No", she shook her head. "No, no, Barry, you can't go back to the past. You... no".

The others were not so certain; Arthur was still contemplating the mechanics of it, it seemed, and Victor was piercing him with his red eye, as if checking if he had balls enough.

"How do you know it'll work?" asked Wayne.

"It might. I mean, what are we losing, right?"

"Everything!" Diana exclaimed. "Barry, you can make everything even worse. You don't mess with time, what's done is done".

"We just saw two countries wiped out in an hour", he said, surprisingly calm. The moment it came to him everything became so clear. He didn't feel like a boy deserving of lecture anymore. He felt... himself.

"And they're not stopping. We barely got away, and how many Comers are hurt? Three? They are probably moving towards Britain at the moment, and we don't have Superman".

"But we're still alive. We can do it. We regroup, we think, and we stop them", she pressed.

Wayne sat there like he was struck on the head.

"Bruce, tell him".

"Are you sure about it, Barry?" he asked instead.

Barry stood up to feel if his body still belonged to him. Oh how he would like a bath, a very hot bath, and to steal one of Y/N's bath bombs, and a smoothie, and a face mask (also hers), the one that smells like ginseng. He would love that so much. Instead, this grim decision made his spine crack and position itself correctly, supporting him whole.

"Yeah. We can definitely try. And if something goes south, I'll go back again".

"That's insane", Diana sank her face into her hands.

"Wait, you can really bring Kent back?" Arthur asked.

"I can go back, that's for sure. And if I go back, and think again, I can find a way to save him".

"What if you meet yourself?" Victor wondered. "Won't that create a paradox?"

Barry dismissed it with a wave of a hand.

"There won't be the other Barry, I'm coming back into my own body".

"Not sure", Victor reasoned. Already getting high on energy, Barry made a face.

They stood around him, watching him intensely as if they expected him to explode on the spot.

"Oh, if I die, or don't return", Barry said, "please tell Y/N that I was in love with her?"

"What for, to make her suffer?" Wayne shook his head, "go on, and don't die. You got one shot, Barry, then come back. Don't risk it".

He put on his mask, looked at the light in the distant ceiling. Looked at the sour faces of his beaten down colleagues.

"Hey, why the long faces!" he quipped.

"Have you eaten, Barry?" Diana asked, but he was already accelerating. Diana didn't know that he had eaten, he had eaten all of her energy bars, and a huge loaf of delicious bread.

#the flash 2023 #the flash 2023 imagine #ezra miller imagine

[qvvir]

Why do you think Tim felt dumb in the solo and Meghan only learned his character from tumblr?

he just was out of character majority of the time. painting tim as nothing more than quirky coffee addict that’s overly emotional and a nerd is what fanon does. how come the smartest robin got his id discovered by a random guy? why did the smartest robin need help from batwoman when he got lost in a maze? most of the things he did (or that happened to him) did not match his character at all. why did he just left sparrow when she was wounded? why did he left ppl in a fire? why did he want to sacrifice himself to some cult instead of just beating them up💀 and he’s not the only one who suffered the fitzmartin character assassination because why would batman bring civilians to help him rescue tim? i remember having plenty more examples but id require me to read this excuse of a comic book again to list them all so i’ll just leave it at that.

most of the issues he faced in this run he already had to dealt with in his 93 run so its easy to compare the two and see how he handled them in both

#notmytim

#tim drake

[ironmanfridgemagnet]

Sitting On The Shelf - Marcus White x Reader

Part 27 - Wellness Fair

SOTS Masterlist

This, my longest part yet, is dedicated to my fave @lolawassad

"Yeah, it's pretty bad." Amy coughed into the phone, stifling talk that was shared between you and Emma as she cupped her hand around her phone to muffle the sound.

It wasn't as though she'd chosen the quietist place to make the call; the four of you stood outside of the movie theatre and waiting for your showing of Lego Batman to begin, bustling crowds moving quickly around you. You tucked yourself deeper under Marcus's arm as the wind blew, a scarf wrapped tightly around you and his jacket adorned on your shoulders.

Thankfully, he had taken your word to heed and took it home with him; it disappeared from your possession when you woke up the next morning and found him - and the jacket - gone, a note left in his place. He'd thanked you for the evening prior and apologised for having to rush off without saying goodbye, promising he'd make it up to you. And when Amy had asked if you wanted to come and see the Lego Batman with her and Emma, you knew the exact way he could make it up to you.

So, you had dragged Marcus with you, and were now trying to prevent him and Emma from engaging in embarrassing storytelling, all while keeping quiet to make a believable case for Glenn and Dina. Glenn, you knew, would be easy to win over, but Dina? You knew the fact Amy wasn't in in the first place was enough to raise her suspicions.

Besides, you were planning on making him pay for your popcorn as part of his repayment for him calling you a bitch.

"Uh-huh. Hey, Ames, can you hold on a sec?" Dina put on the sweetest voice you'd ever heard her muster up, before quickly snapping back into her normal self, and presumably yelling at Glenn. "Yeah, she's faking."

"No, she is not!" Glenn replied with a whine, and never before had you such appreciated his naivety to the world.

"Glenn, I love Amy like a sister, and she is a liar and a fraud, like my sister." It was almost sweet to hear Dina's compliment towards Amy, though, like expected, it was quickly turned around and painted Amy out to be a 'liar and a fraud.'

"I'm still on, by the way." Amy's cough was quickly lost as she spat her words down the phone, Dina's disbelieving voice having come out of the other end.

"Hey, sweetie!"

"You ignore her. You just get well soon, okay? Thank you." Glenn quickly hung up the phone and Amy tucked it into her pocket, pulling up two hands and high-fiving Emma at the success of her efforts.

"I told you Dina would know!" You hid your words behind a cough, your face red and bitten by the cold and the weather bad enough that a cold would still be believable - not with Amy's bad acting and Dina's sixth sense, however.

"So can I pretend to be sick to miss school Monday?" Emma asked, hands tucked back into the warmth of her pockets now Amy had celebrated her victory.

"No, dipshit." You ruffled her hat messing up her hair, hand leaving the warmth of your jacket pocket while the other stayed wrapped around Marcus's waist. His own arm was thrown across your shoulder, pulling you into his side while the other rested in his coat pocket; mirror images of each other. "Your mom doesn't need to go to work, you however, need to go to school."

"Don't call her a dipshit, angel, the kids sweet." Marcus chided from above you. Turning your head to him, you rested your chin against his chest, peering up at him with a weak glare, jutting out your lower lip in a pout.

"You don't know her, Marcus. She's the devil incarnate."

"Didn't you drop out of school, shithead?" Emma retorted, your point being proven almost immediately by the vulgar - yet, somehow, still endearing - term that slipped past her lips.

Your quirked your eyebrows at Marcus, the look of 'I told you so' written across your face that drew a smile onto his a face and a laugh from his lips. It was different to see you interact with Emma; he'd hung out with her a few times now, but it still amazed him at the relationship that two of you shared. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought you were twins ten years apart.

"No, now that is, this is different." Amy defended, though shot you a warning look. You couldn't help that Emma would return the exact same energy you gave her, however, you could help the language you used around her.

"How?" Emma scolded folding her arms across her chest as Amy reached out and tugged her hat down, smoothing out the hair that stuck up outside of the knitted confines.

"It just is. It's an adult thing. You'll understand someday. Come on." Amy grabbed Emma by he hand and left her towards the ticket booth to buy your tickets for Lego Batman. You and Marcus hung back, standing beside the doors into the theatre. Moving out from under his arm, you wrapped both arms around him, hugging into his chest.

"Told you she's the devil." You chastised smooshing your face against the soft fabric of his jumper that peaked out between the unzipped lapels of his coat.

"She's not that bad." Marcus argued, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and wrapping both his arms around your shoulders, keeping you close to him and offering you what warmth he could provide.

"You didn't live with her." You sighed, a chuckle elicited from Marcus as your determination to prove her to be evil. Though you didn't really think that: Emma was the sweetest kid you knew, and she was constantly proving that to you. "But you are right. She's not that bad."

"Did you guys see that?" Amy asked with urgency, four movie tickets in her hand and her face paled.

"See what?" The simple comment seemed enough for Amy to brush if off for now, ushering the three of you into the theatre ahead of her; Amy looked around before closing the door behind her.

She shook off your concerned look, a smile curling on her lips as she held up the four tickets. "Who's ready for Lego Batman?"

————————————————————————

"I mean, I'm just saying, we're friends, so if you did play hooky yesterday, you can totally tell me." Dina probed, leaning against the countertop and dividing you and Amy as she made the two of you cups of coffee.

"I wasn't." She confirmed, a half-asses cough forced past her lips as she talked with Dina, hoping to convey how she was still struggling with her 'sickness.'

"Are you sure you should be drinking coffee?" Dina chided as Amy passed your mug too you, 3/4 filled with black coffee that you could adjust to your own taste, and took a sip of her own. "Caffeine mixed with cold medication can have the same effects as meth."

"Really? I've never heard that." Amy held the mug a hair length away from her lips, seemingly going to ignore Dina's comment, but changing her mind at her unwavering glare, moving the mug above the sink and beginning to pour it out.

"Oh, it's true." Amy continued to empty the mug of steaming liquid down the drain, meeting Dina's eyes as it became half way empty in hopes she would leave and she could continue to drink it. "Yeah, all of it."

As Dina became satisfied with the torment cause to Amy in an effort to get her to 'admit,' she turned to you, a sickly sweet smile curling onto her lips. "Y/n! You live with Amy right?"

Finishing making your coffee, you turned to Dina with a tight lipped smile, cupping the mug between two two hands and holding it inches from you lips. "No I don't, I haven't for months Dina."

"Well, surely then, you'd go and visit your sick mother." Dina's voice raised with each word, as though accentuating them would get you to change your story.

"No I didn't. I had stuff to do, it was my day off Dee." You took a sip of your coffee, keeping her on edge as you mirrored her position leaning against the counter in the break room. "Besides, I didn't want to risk it incase it was contagious."

"Likely story." She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest as her gaze flickered between the two of you, hoping that one of you would crack under her unnerving gaze. "I'll catch you out. Sooner or later."

"Hey, Sandra. How's it going?" Amy asked as she approached the counter top in an effort to change the topic of discussion, Sandra reaching over you to grab something from the counter.

"Pretty good. Someone stole my cat again." Squeezing her arm affectionately, you offered her your sympathies, knowing it wouldn't be long till it was returned, like last time, anyway.

"Excuse me, I'm having a conversation with Amy and y/n." Dina yelled, stepping in front of you and barricading you behind her arm as she yelled at Sandra to get away from your conversation.

"I think we were all caught up." Amy disagreed, her dismissal having Dina back down and return to her position against the countertop. Taking a sip from your hot coffee, you peered over the edge at Amy; confused by her sudden interest in Sandra and her life that she'd never seemed to show before. Though you wouldn't be surprised to find she just wanted an escape from Dina. "How are things, Sandra. How's Jeff?"

"Great. He might take me to Paris." A weary, tight-lipped smile formed on her face, unsure of the words that slipped off her tongue; though Amy seemed to accept the information with a wide smile.

"Aww, Paris? That sounds so serious." Even with Amy's gushing, Dina found something to be bitter about; scoffing before turning to Sandra with a scowl.

"I hate Paris. That place is just one giant gay ashtray."

Oh, you just loved mornings in the break room. And while that was usually true, the remark turned bitter at the thought of spending it like this: sandwiched between an agitated Dina and a terrified Sandra. With a wince, you pushed yourself away from the mess of a discussion, leaving the break room in search of better company.

————————————————————————

"Attention, Cloud 9 shoppers, today is Cloud 9's Wellness Fair, where we're offering vision tests, blood pressure screenings, and tips on living your best, healthiest life. Why go to a doctor when you can get medical advice from the same place you get dish soap?"

Garrett's announcements always brought a smile to your face, his witty remarks making them bright despite their dull nature. Crossing your legs tightly onto the seat, you squeezed yourself into the chair Cheyenne was resting her feet against, her having stole your usual seat on the countertop. Picking her legs up by her calf's, you moved them to rest in your lap, giving the pair of you each more space.

"I love medicine. I watch all those shows. ""I need 10ccs, stat." "Prep the incubation tray." "I can't have sex with you. I'm an intern."" Her impressions were good, for what you were assuming were about a Greys Anatomy episode, and elicited a chuckle from you. However, Garrett just shook his head, hiding his smile as he looked briefly towards his lap.

"Yeah, that all sounds pretty medically accurate."

"Hey, guys, if you knew that a friend's boyfriend was cheating on her with another one of your friends, would you say something?" Amy asked, interrupting the conversation the three of you were having as she leant against the customer service counter, eyes darting frantically between the three of you.

"Hmm, that's a tough one." Cheyenne began, hair swooshing over her shoulder as she turned away from you to look at Amy. "Is it Kylie or Emily?"

"Okay, look, I wasn't actually home sick yesterday." Amy rolled her eyes, letting out a huff of annoyance at the fact she was sharing the secret she tried so hard to keep incase word got to Dina - however, this was more important. "I went to the movies, and I saw Jeff with Mateo. Kissing each other."

Though the three of you grimaced at her awkward hand actions to mimic what she saw, you quickly dissolved into looks of shock and surprise.

"Wow!"

"Wait? That's what you saw yesterday?" You asked as Cheyenne muttered something about the weirdness of it, Amy frantically nodding in confirmation at your question.

"Whoa."

"That is so crazy."

"Hmm."

"Seriously? This is your reaction?" Amy all but screeched, smacking her hands down against the countertop in what you thought was appal. "Jeff is cheating on Sandra with Mateo. What do I do? Do I, do I, do I talk to her? Do I confront him?"

"Okay, here's what you do." Garrett began, Amy leaning in and listening intensely for the amazing advice Garrett seemed to hold. "Nothing."

Amazing advice it was.

"What? Come on." Amy couldn't grasp the relaxed disposition from the three of you at the secret she had just revealed - surly, she'd thought, you'd have been concerned for your friends terrible affair.

"I agree with him, Ames." You admitted, not missing the way Amy's face fell at the admission or how a frown began to form on her lips. "Don't stick your head where it doesn't belong and things will work themselves out."

"Look, you don't know the situation. This is like "Jurassic Park." You start messing around with something you don't know anything about, and before you know it, you're getting bit in half while you're sitting on a toilet." Garrett explained, hoping Amy would understand the sentiment and why is was so important she butt out of it without revealing Mateo's secret.

"It's true, Amy. That's what happens." Cheyenne nodded solemnly, staring down the short-haired brunette until she pushed away from the counter in frustration.

"Okay. Thanks, guys. This was great." With a sigh she left you three to your discussion, going off to probably confront Sandra - or Mateo - about what she saw despite the advice you'd just given to her.

"Should we just tell her that Mateo's the one who's been dating Jeff all along?" Cheyenne asked, head titled, her gaze flickering between you and Garrett.

"Nah, it's better just to stay out of it. People don't need to know who's boning who." Of course Garrett would say that.

You harden forgotten about Dina's drunken admission to their casual affair - and each day Garrett didn't bring it up to you, your hurt grew. You knew it wasn't your business, and if Garrett didn't want to, he didn't have to tell you; or anyone for that matter. But something about the fact you'd heard it from Dina - and not him - was really getting to you.

"My 'surprised reaction' was shockingly bad too. I'm surprised she hasn't put two and two together yet." You added, looking at her form as she retreated back into the depths of the store, in search of God knows what, or who, rather.

"Yeah. Do you wanna hear my lawyer?" At a nod of confirmation from you, and a hum from Garrett, Cheyenne began her second performance, acting out what she'd seen on the tv. ""Objection, your honour, he's harassing the witness!" "Oh, that's not a judge, that's a bomb.""

Crunching your face in confusion, you looked up at the pink highlighted curls and Cheyenne's face, filled with genuine curiosity. "What tv shows do you watch, Chey?"

————————————————————————

Once again, in the midst of your conversation, Amy came storming over to the customer service desk, eyebrows crunched in frustration.  "So neither one of you thought it was worth mentioning that Sandra's been making it up the whole time?"

"She has?" You gasped, looking between Amy, Garrett and Cheyenne as if to convince her that it was news to you too. "That's crazy."

"So, you knew?" Amy flat out asked, now being able to see through your over the top and outright fake surprise.

"What? No. Never!" You gasped, a hand over your heart in feigned hurt at the accusation. Though you quickly dropped the act at a pointed, sharp look from Amy - she knew you knew, it was easier to just admit it now. "Yeah, I've known since Valentine's Day."

"Maybe it'll be good for everyone to know." Cheyenne rushed out, looking between the three of your for reassurance that you didn't have to give her. "Maybe Sandra will be happy."

"Yeah, 'cause that's usually why people with low self-esteem commit to elaborate lies for weeks, 'cause they just want the truth to come out." You smacked your hand against Garrett's bicep, now, in Cheyenne's worry, not being the time to make jokes.

"Okay, I can fix this. I just need to gather everybody who knows, and then tell them..."

"Why aren't you listening to me?" Garrett whined, leaning closer to Amy and making unavoidable eye contact with her. "Just do nothing. It is the easiest advice to take. I do it, and I am thriving."

"Gare, that is so true." You mused, rubbing a hand up and down his bicep as you looked fondly at him. He wasn't wrong, Garrett, for as long as you'd known him, was killing it. "He's killing it."

"Killing it."

————————————————————————

"So she just invented the entire relationship?"

You'd made your way to the break room for your lunch break, sharing a table with Garrett, Cheyenne and Amy and splitting lunch with the latter. As Amy stuck her fork into her fruit salad, you stole one half of her sandwich, biting in and chewing it down quickly. Amy always made the best lunches, and it was one of the things you missed the most after moving out.

Placing the sand which temporarily back in its container, you opened your water and took a sip, listening idly to the conversation going on across from you.

"She's a maniac."

"Ew, I just realized that pair of Jeff's underwear that she showed me probably weren't even Jeff's. That's so gross." It suddenly dawned on you that word of Sandra and Jeff's fake relationship must have spread around the store - how, you didn't know - but you knew gossip like that was sure to spread like wildfire.

Chocking on your mouthful of water, you quickly gargled it down, placing your bottle down against the table and brining a hand to your mouth to wipe away the spilled liquid. "Hold on. She showed you Jeff's underwear?"

"Uh, yes? I needed proof." Marcus answered, as if it should've been the most obvious thing in the world.

"She's definitely out of wine club." Myrtle scoffed, digging a fork into her food with a look of disgust crossing her face. Was Sandra making up a relationship really so bad?

Amy, suddenly interested in the discussion, dropped her fork and turned in her seat. "Wait, you guys have a wine club?"

"Yeah, we're trying to keep it small." Marcus quickly dismissed her comment, not wanting to get into a confrontation about why certain people weren't included in wine club and others were.

"Wine club?" You perked up, looking at Marcus who was already looking at you.

"Well, you're always welcome to join us, y/n." The words slipped past his lips before he could stop himself, his eyes leaving yours as he looked at the two women he sat with for confirmation.

"I'd love you to join, girl!" Justine being Justine was something you felt you could consume in limited amounts - and wine club once a week seemed like a good opportunity to do that. "We could have our own little ladies lunch, like, every week!"

"Look, this really is none of your business, you know. You you don't even know the whole story." Garrett was already shaking his head at Amy before the words could leave her mouth, knowing that she wasn't going to say nothing even when you'd all advised her to. "If you knew the whole story, you wouldn't think she was a maniac."

"What's the whole story?" Marcus leaned forward in his seat towards Amy, curiosity crossing his features as his forehead tensed.

Despite whispered warnings from you and Garrett through gritted teeth, Amy shook her head and continued with an explanation she didn't need to give. She was ultimately digging a hole she wouldn't be able to get out of. "The whole story is that she did date Jeff. It was very intense, and then they broke up."

"Yup, they broke up. It happened on a Tuesday." Cheyenne confirmed, somehow forgetting your earlier conversation to not add to - and even deescalate - the situation.

"So she got dumped, but then lied and told everyone they were still dating? Why would she do that?" Marcus couldn't wrap his head around the elaborate breakup story, and you doubted you would've been able to either if you weren't in on the know.

"'Cause she's a maniac." Myrtle reaffirmed, shaking her head at the notion of Sandra's dramatic love life.

"No. That is a good question, and we asked her that question, and what she said made a lot of sense. She told us that..." Amy fumbled for a satisfying enough conclusion to the story she had made up, hoping that there would be something not too serious or out there that would-

"She's pregnant."

Garrett's head fell into his hands as a sigh escaped his lips. Faces all around the break room fell open, gasps elicited and wide eyed expressions of surprise shared. "And the raptors have breached the fence."

"She's pregnant?" Justine gasped, Amy reluctantly confirming the question with a short nod. She'd dug too deep this time.

"Who's pregnant?" Glenn asked, suddenly entering the break room at what could've been the worst possible time to ever do so. It was now far too late to do any backtracking with Glenn on the scene, things were sure to spiral out of pre-portion.

"Nobody."

"The maniac."

"Sandra."

"Sandra? That is wonderful." Glenn's cheery disposition never faulted at the news, an even wider smile then he'd had growing on his face. He was always happy to have his cloud 9 family expand - even when it wasn't real - not that he knew that.

"I knew it." Marcus gasped, a proud smile on his face as his arms stretched out in nonchalant victory. "You can tell by the glow. I always know."

"Always, huh?" You queried, knowing that, in actuality, Sandra was not pregnant and there was no glow for Marcus to see. Still, his wide smile and confident stance amused you, brining a smile to your own lips.

"I'm gonna go congratulate her." Glenn said with a smile, already turning on his heel to leave the break room. Amy had got herself in this mess, and for once, you weren't willing to help get her out; you didn't want to get tangled in the web of lies that was Sandra and Jeff's relationship more then you already were.

"No, no, Glenn, uh, she doesn't want anybody to know yet, so we can't mention it to her." Amy's lacklustre attempt to cover her tracks on what she'd said wasn't enough to stop an over the moon Glenn.

"Oh! We could plan a baby shower. And what if the theme was babies? Or manufacturing?" As people put forward more and more suggestions to what the theme should be, Amy's frustration and unease only seemed to grow, fidgeting with her hands.

"Okay, no baby shower, guys." She began, wringing at the flesh of her hands as she avoided the eyes of the break room. "You're making a big deal out of this, and she doesn't even know if she's gonna keep it."

Silence. Glenn's face fell and an almost inaudible 'what?' slipped from his lips in appal. Leaning backwards so that your whispered words would reach Garrett's ears, you asked him a very important question.

"Can the raptors double breach the fence? 'Cause I think they just did."

"Uh-huh. Yeah, she might do it on a Wednesday." Cheyenne affirmed Amy's story once more, despite now not being the best time for it, Glenn's face only falling further at the ounce of knowledge.

"Okay, we're good on the days." Any spat, curling into herself and leaving the rest of her lunch untouched at the chaos she had caused.

————————————————————————

"Maybe Glenn will just not say anything." Amy suggested, the four of you fled of the break room and now debating over the best course of action from the stores café. Cheyenne passed you the half-empty cup of store coffee, allowing you to take a sip before drinking some herself.

"I highly doubt that, Ames." Glenn knew, and if Glenn knew it was only time before everyone would know. And you hoped to any God out there that it would all go down on a day you weren't working.

"Hey, guys, did you hear?" Mateo sardonically asked as he stormed up to the table, stabbing behind Cheyenne. "Sandra's pregnant with my boyfriend's baby."

"Oh, yeah, there's a card going around." Garrett informed, filling out his part in navy blue sharpie, that you knew would smudge the second he closed the card. But with any luck, and Amy's determination to make things right, the card would never reach Sandra: or worse, Jeff.

"This is why people don't tell you things." Mateo whined, head thrown back in exasperation. Of course Amy had somehow been the one to let it slip, and then let it spiral out of all control; if only she had listened to you and Garrett.

"I'm gonna fix it." Amy wasn't one to not try. Even if it took weeks, or months, or years, she'd try until she could try no more to fix what she'd done. "Look, we could we could say that it was a phantom pregnancy. I've heard of that."

It was a shoddy idea, but an idea no less, and a step in what was hopefully the right direction to fixing her mess. "Sandra, this must be a giant surprise for you. Love, Garrett."

Taking the card and the pen from Garrett's hold, you began to fill it out yourself, writing something you thought was a mixture of heartfelt and Garrett's 'I know' sentiment. "I'm sure you and Jeff's real, strong bond will overcome this surprise. Best wishes, y/n."

"Okay, what if we say that Jeff has a twin brother, and Sandra has been dating him?" A better idea then Amy's, you would admit, but still not one you were sure could work. At this point, it felt as though the only suitable option would be for Amy to come clean. And Sandra too.

"So the Jeff that Sandra's been talking about is Jeff's twin brother, Jeff?" Garrett chastised, face scrunched in a mixture of confusion and blatant awe at how Cheyenne could come up with such an idea.

"Doesn't the bad guy from Sherlock have a twin with the same name? I'm sure that was like a whole plot point of the show. It's totally plausible." You argued, supporting Cheyenne's effort to at least try and come up with solutions. Drawing a big, blue heart at the end of your words, you closed the card and left it on the table top in front of you.

"Oh, 'cause that sounds real." Garrett's sarcastic tone and probing, joking comments still perceived despite the doom and gloom of the situation at hand, which was something you always admired of him. Even in the darkest of times he could crack a smile from you.

"Well, at least they're thinking of things." Mateo rolled his eyes, walking away from you as fast as he came, chastising your idiocy with a grunt.

Picking you the card, you stood from your seat beside Garrett, tucking it back in behind you. Walking away with the promise to return, you went to find more people to sign the card, despite the fact the baby was real in the first place, you imagined the sentiment was nice for those who didn't know.

————————————————————————

Having found Marcus and getting him to sign the card, you decided to follow him on his venture around the store; collecting money for Sandra's baby shower. It seemed easier to stick by his side, get people to kill two birds with one stone, and besides, you definitely didn't mind the company.

"Hey, you wanna donate to a good cause?" Marcus asked as the pair of you approached Jonah, shacking the time that had a slot cut into the top and was wrapped in pink paper.

"I already told you, I'm not paying to get you veneers." Jonah answered before turning to face Marcus, waving at the sight of you, his silent companion, who he hadn't realised was there at first.

"Nah, it's for Sandra's baby shower, assuming she keeps it." Marcus explained, once again offering the tin out to him with a shake in an effort to get him to donate.

"We have a card, also." Holding up the card, brandished with 'congratulations, and good luck on your abortion,' and the blue sharpie out to him in offering.

"Wait, Sandra's pregnant?" Jonah gasped, completely taken aback by the knowledge. How he'd managed to escape the scandalous news all day, you didn't know, and almost wished you could be in his position. Experience the drama of it all.

"You've missed so much today, J." You muttered, shaking your head at the situation as a whole. It had somehow unravelled from a rumour Jeff was cheating on Sandra to a pregnancy and potential abortion; if only Amy had done nothing.

"Yeah, Jeff knocked her up, then dumped her for Mateo." Marcus explained the short version of events, taking the burden off of your shoulders which you were thankful for. Whether it was the fact you'd heard 30 different iterations of the story today, or the fact you were beginning to feel you like you were part of the reason the rumour was spreading, you weren't sure. But the idea of explaining it again and again was beginning to get to you.

"Really?"

"Supposedly."

"Wow, I can't believe it."

"Man, I wish I had the stones to go both ways." Marcus mused, the comment surprised both you and Jonah with its suddenness and honesty. "Can you imagine? Two dudes all gas, no brakes."

Jonah, seemingly as confused as you were by the sudden admission, brushed off Marcus's remark, instead focusing on the animated conversation that was happening a few feet away between Glenn and Sandra. "Yeah, totally."

Before you could say anything else, Jonah walked past the two of you and in the direction of Glenn and Sandra, undoubtedly to intervene with their discussion about what Sandra should do with her non existent baby.

"What do you think that was about?" Marcus asked you as the pair of you looked on at the argument that was ensuing between the two men, right in the middle of the stores well-being fair.

"Not entirely sure." It was a lie, but a harmless one at that. Things had clearly gone too far and the truth was sure to emerge within hours, maybe even minutes if you were unlucky enough. "Want to go to the break room and force snacks out of the vending machine?"

Marcus slipped his hand into yours, walking the pair of you away from the scene before you and in the direction of the break room in search of snacks and probably a cup of coffee for you. Leaning into his side, you ignored the commotion behind you, knowing no doubt it would become a much bigger display then it needed to be, and that if the word 'abortion' was said slightly louder, corporate would be sending Jeff down to deal with it and the whole situation would become just so much worse.

For once, you decided to revel in the peace while it lasted.

————————————————————————

You and Marcus's impromptu date was quickly ended as crowds of employees flooded into the break room, with Jeff in tow. It was obvious that this would be the result of Glenn and Jonah's live action abortion debate, but you had hoped that it would've taken a while longer to reach such point.

"It was just low blood sugar. I shouldn't have tried to quit drinking juice cold turkey like that." Amy had informed you of Glenn's sudden turn for the worse after his and Jonah's argument reached its climax and how he'd stubbornly refused to take Jonah's advice on how to fix it. However, things between the two seemed to be a bit more resolved now that everyone was gathered before Jeff and Glenn had a cup of juice in his hands.

"Great, okay, uh, also, we have checked. We don't seem to have any training videos about not discussing abortion at work, because we just thought it was so obvious, but you guys managed to surprise us, so good job." Though Jeff's response was clearly sarcastic, Cheyenne let out a congratulatory 'whoop!' Which, honestly, you thought was deserved, considering your store always managed to go the extra mile to piss off corporate.

"Don't lecture us on being responsible when we all know what you did to Sandra." Glenn's words were filled with venom, and the general chatter of the break room seemed to agree with him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You knew things would have to come to a head. But part of you had hoped you could have a confrontation without dragging the innocent Jeff into things. Confrontation with Sandra would've been a lot to clear up, but with the presence of Jeff, you worried tings would be explosive.

"Sandra who's Sandra?" Jeff's innocent enough question was met with an encore of gasps, wide eyed expressions filled with disgust and outrage and upset for Sandra.

"Just the woman who's pregnant with your bi-racial child." Glenn spat, face contorted into a look of complete and utter disappointment and displeasure. You couldn't recall a time you'd ever seen him look so angry in all your life.

"In his defence, Sandra is extremely forgettable. Remember when we left her at Dave & Buster's on her birthday?" Dina added from Jeff's left, turning in her seat to face the appalled body of the break room; people littered across seats and leaning across lockers and counters alike in an effort to cram themselves into the space.

Sandra mustered up a deep breath. In and out. Before looking at the body of the break room and admitting the game changing statement. "I'm not pregnant."

Despite her own very confused look, Glenn gasped and turned to the brunette with urgency. "Oh, God, am I too late?"

"I'm very confused." Jeff, ever with the hand gestures, talked with his hands, bringing them to clutch against his clipboard and his chest.

"Wait, so you didn't knock her up?" Marcus emphasised from behind Jonah, pointing between the two people so far involved in the chaos of the web of lies.

"No, I'm gay." The open admission received many hums of acceptance and realisation, apart from the scoff it elicited from Glenn - an odd, but not entirely unexpected, response from the older gentleman.

"Oh, yeah, right, you're gay, and I'm Lorenzo Lamas."

"Well, I am. I'm gay."

"But you're so... blah." Glenn seemed completely dumbfounded by the news, unsure what to do with himself at the reveal that not only was Jeff gay, but he seemed to have no clue as to who Sandra was - let alone that she was pregnant.

"Well, wait, then who's dating Sandra?" Dina asked, all eyes falling on the shy brunette who was, for once, not curling into herself or hiding away from the situation at hand.

"I made it up." Sandra admitted. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Jonah sitting up straighter in his seat, elbows coming to rest on his knees as he put himself deeper into the conversation. Gasps seemed to be the only thing that left most peoples mouth, secret after secret beginning to be revealed. "I haven't been dating anyone."

Glenn completely ignored Sandra's comment, eyes raking over Jeff's form as he was still completely absorbed in the new information he received. "I mean, nothing here pops at all."

"Why would you make something like that up?" Jonah leaned even further forward as he asked the question, captivated by the drama that was unfolding before you all at a rapid pace.

"At first it was a misunderstanding, and then I just started liking the attention." At least Sandra was honest, even if it was a little sad she'd made the whole thing up. "For the first time in my life, I was a star."

"I'm the one who's been dating Jeff." Queue the second round of gasps and groans at Mateo's sudden addition to the stew pot of admissions that were being made. Walking around the outside of the break room, he moved to stand by Jeff's side, linking his arm through Jeff's suit-clad one. "Okay, the whole time, me-me-me-me-me."

"Umm, we were keeping that between us." Jeff muttered, making Mateo's smile quickly drop, his arm still linked through Jeff's. He knew he didn't mean it to be mean, but he couldn't help he wanted people to know they were together.

"I just don't get it. If you can be gay, that means anyone can be gay." Glenn somehow stayed hung up on the first revelation of the evening, not caring for the drama yet caring for the shock of Jeff's coming out.

"Okay, well, you know, cat's out of the bag. Me and Jeff. Does anybody have any questions?" Though Mateo seemed rather excited for things to be out in the open, Jeff quickly shushed him down, turning and addressing the break room.

"Can we please keep this in this room? I'm not supposed to be dating anybody from one of the stores."

"But casual sex is okay, right? 'Cause I've been banging Garrett on and off for a while now." And the fences have been breached once more. You'd known, even in your non sober state, from Dina's drunken admission, but for it to be admitted openly, still without any word from Garrett stung.

Under the burning gazes of the entire population of the break room, Garrett finally stuttered out an admission; once again creating a wave of shock and surprise throughout the room. "Uh, that is correct."

"Really? And you you didn't tell us?" Jonah seemed upset enough for the both of you, as Garrett's self designated best friends, it felt like knowledge you deserved to have. In reality, Garrett didn't owe you anything; not an explanation, not a story time, nothing. That, unfortunately, didn't make it hurt any less.

"I'm sorry, it just we haven't told anybody." Garrett shrugged, defending his actions, or lack there of to the two of you.

"Dina told me." You frown, arms folding across your chest as you avoided Garrett's line of sight.

"To be fair, dove, I didn't think you'd remember after all the vodka you drank." Dina admitted, flashes of the lunch outing you'd thrown for Amy coming to mind and your stomach churning at the mention of vodka lemonade.

"Oh, I remembered due to the complete and utter betrayal I felt." You knew you couldn't be one to talk. Though you'd briefly mentioned bits and pieces of your relationship to Garrett and Jonah; you'd never confirmed it's existence, only your seemingly unrequited feelings or unusual actions from Marcus.

"It's fine, I don't, I don't care." Jonah slouched into his seat, turning to face the front of the break room and resulting to ignoring Garrett.

"What about just, like, actual dating? Is that okay? Are we allowed to date people within the store?" Marcus asked from behind you and Jonah, his hands resting on the back of your chair as he leaned forward to address the room. "Because me and y/n have been together for a while now."

You could feel the heat rush to your face as yet another round of gasps echoed around the break room, face after face turning to look at your and Marcus where you'd began to sink into your seat. Everyone who's eyes you met were filled with surprise, some confusion, some shock, some hurt.

"Oh, so when I don't tell you, it's the end of the world. But you don't have to tell me?" Garrett gasped, his jaw hung open and his arms folded tightly across his chest.

Spluttering as you sat upwards, you pointed a finger at your best friend, you other hand reaching back to hold Marcus's that had moved to your shoulder. "In my defence, I told you I thought I'd asked him on a date."

"Wait, is he who you had valentines plans with?" Jonah only seemed to come to the realisation at the admission of you two as a couple. "Marcus?

"I tried to set the two of you up when I was playing Cupid! And you said no! Was it because you were already together?" Glenn whined, finally breaking out of his shocked stupor only to fall into another one. "What has happened to this store?"

"Me. I happened. This is me. This is my fault." Amy had reached her chance for resolution. Her secret spilling had created this convoluted mess; and now she was hopefully going to fix it. "I opened the cage, or whatever. I've never seen "Jurassic Park.""

"You've never seen Jurassic Park?" Of all the things that had been admitted today, that felt like that worse. Considering you'd watched it at least 3 times in the time you lived with her, you found it an impossible feat.

"Okay, that is not what we're dealing with right now. Look, I should not have gotten involved. Sandra, I'm really sorry." Amy's apology was earnest, and genuine, and you could tell she really did feel bad for the mess she'd inadvertently created.

"No, I feel great. No more lies. No more credit card debt from buying myself flowers. I can cancel the horse-drawn carriage." Things seemed to calm down as quickly as they had riled up, people being dismissed from the break room as people began to disperse into smaller groups of conversation.

"I almost told you a couple times." Garrett admitted, as though the fleeting statement would fix the hurt Jonah still felt. Letting him know that you knew had seemed to resolve your anger at him, but Jonah hadn't had that chance.

"I said it's fine."

————————————————————————

"So that's why you didn't want me talking about people's love lives because you had a little secret of your own." Amy teased, a tight lipped smile on Garrett's face as he put up with the comments from Amy.

You were all wrapped up and ready to go back to your apartment; Marcus's jacket, that you'd now more then claimed as your own, covered your shoulders and your scarf was wrapped tightly around your neck in an effort to keep the warmth in. Your bag was crammed full and desperate for you to actually sort through it when you got back to your apartment.

"Why don't we talk about y/n and Marcus, huh? Surely that is so much more interesting. I mean, Marcus! Marcus, really?" Garrett's attempt to change the conversation failed miserably as a devilish smile curled onto Amy's lips, her fingers drumming against the counter top.

"Oh, don't try and change the subject, Gare. Amy's known for months." You revealed, swinging your legs over the edge of the countertop that you sat against, finally getting your seat back now that Cheyenne was nowhere to be found.

"And I didn't get to know because...?"

"We haven't really put a label on it. Plus, I did tell you I asked him on a date." You didn't even need to turn to face Garrett to know he was quirking his eyebrows at you in utter disbelief. "Kind of."

"Well, you never told me it went anywhere after that!"

"Are we gonna get a destination wedding?" Amy continued, Garrett seething with every teasing comment that slipped past her lips. "Like, how many cute little Garrett-Dina babies are you gonna have? Garrett Junior?"

"Hey, Dina, Amy went to go see "Lego Batman" yesterday." Garrett left immediately after outing Amy's fake sick day affairs to Dina, a smile curling on his face at the knowledge that he'd, ultimately, won whatever little argument they had going on.

"I'm gonna have to call you back. What in the name of God is "Lego Batman"?"

"Well, that's my signal to go." Pushing from the counter top, you held onto your bag strap, pressing a kiss to Amy's cheeks before waving goodbye to both women. "See you later, Ames, Dee."

As you made your way towards the exit of the store, you had the pleasure of bumping into Marcus, reaching out for his hand and pulling him to a stop. "Hey! There you are."

"Hey, angel. How's your afternoon been?" It was beginning to get dark outside, the dregs of afternoon leaving and night-time coming swiftly along. It had only been an hour, maximum, since your relationship had been outed to the entirety of your co-workers, and already Marcus was being more touchy and flirty then he'd usually be in public. "You know, with that whole thing in the break room?"

"Oh! Umm, good, I feel. The shock didn't seem to reach outside of the break room. Everyone's been pretty chill about it, actually."

"I'm sorry." You hadn't expected an apology at all when you'd approached him, you had no idea where it had come from or why. "About just... telling everyone. I wasn't really thinking in the moment and the question just came out before I could stop myself and-"

"Hey, Marcus. It was okay. I don't mind." Reaching your other hand up to smooth against the fabric of his warehouse coveralls, his blue cloud 9 hoodie on top of it to keep him warm.

"Wait, really?"

"Well, yeah. I've never been bothered about who knew or what they knew, y'know." You we're holding both of Marcus's hands now, then hanging between the two of you as you kept eye contact in your heartfelt discussion. So much had been admitted today - why not take the chance to get things cleared up?

"Oh. I thought you wanted it to be a secret."

"Really? Oh, Marcus, sweetie. I never wanted it to be a secret. Sure, I didn't go around shouting it to the world, but I just assumed people would find out in their own time anyway."

"But you could." Marcus suggested with a sly smile, one hand coming to scratch at the back of his neck while the other squeezed yours. "Now that everyone knows anyway."

"I could...?" You prompted, looking up at the taller man and meeting his eyes.

Marcus didn't answer your question. Instead, he took a deep breath, squeezing your hand before shouting up at the ceiling of the store. "I'm dating y/n!"

His words echoed throughout the building, a hand coming to cover your mouth as nervous laughter bubbles past your lips. Pulling at the front of his coveralls, you got his to face you one again, fists clutching the fabric there and shaking his slightly. "Shush! Shush... we're in the store."

"I don't care who hears, I want the world to know I'm yours." Marcus's words were breathless but not hushed, a wide, toothy smile covering his face, dimples deep and showing and eyes crinkled with joy.

Taking in a deep breath, you look up at the ceiling, Marcus pulling at the material of your scarf gently as it began to fall over your shoulders. Closing your eyes, you shouted out. "Marcus is my boyfriend!"

Marcus's eyes met your own, his bright smile never falling as the pair of you dissolved into laughter once again. Marcus's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest, your head resting against his coveralls. "Boyfriend? Shit, man, this day just keeps getting better, huh?"

Marcus ducked his head down to meet yours, pressing a kiss to your lips and then another, and then another, making yet another laugh bubble past your lips. As the two of you headed out of the store together, hand in hand, a frustrated sigh left Garrett.

"I can't believe they're together. I mean, I figured if y/n was going to date anyone, it would've been me, or you. Or even Cheyenne. But Marcus? I did not see that one coming."

"Me either, man." Jonah shook his head, arms folded and one hand to his lips, picking at the skin of his lips. "But, you know what? I should've known after the puppy thing."

"What's the puppy thing? What happened? What could I have possibly missed?" Jonah ignored Garrett's attempt at putting the pieces of your relationship together, instead focusing on the fact that he hadn't been able to do so before.

"But you? Dude, she told you she asked him on a date! How did you not know?"

————————————————————————

☆: .｡. Tag List .｡.:☆ @write-from-the-heart @despicablylara @whatafreakingloser @flowercrowns-goodvibes @millieb-3199 @lolawassad @catarina-trouxa @falsegodofmischief @thepurplebutterflythings @littleboysmile @sibsteria @quinn-7007 @aashy723 @maeisonline @lizziel1410

Want to be added to the taglist? send an ask to let me know <3

————————————————————————

MARCHS AND Y/NS REALATIONSHIP FINALLY OUT IN THE OPEN DUNNDUN DUN

Also It took writing this chapter for me to discover that Americans don't have cordial in the same way I, in the U.K., have cordial. Apparently the closest thing they have to it is in the terms of KoolAid. So when Glenn said juice he meant like apple juice and not watered down Robinsons Fruit Squash orange. Mad stuff.

This is my longest character so far at 8.3K words!! So thank you for sticking with it and reading it all the way through. You guys support means everything to me and keeps me motivated to continue writing. <3

As always, have a lovely week!! <333

#sitting on the shelf marcus white x reader #superstore x reader #superstore imagine #cloud 9 #marcus white x reader #marcus white #marcus white imagine #marcus superstore #superstore marcus imagine #superstore marcus x reader

[he-flies-with-his-own-wings]

throwing ideas your way in case you want them (NOTHING underage): 1- dick loves being held by bruce (bruce loves it, too; whispering sweet and filthy things to him depending on the mood); 2- phone s*x or s*xting/pics; 3- au where they're not heroes (lawyers, drs, bankers); 4- skinny dipping or another getaway; 5- mutual m**turbation; 6- dick surprising b with something really nice/meaningful.

yo are we allowed to have p()rn on this website again, because if so maybe i'll take a run at a few of these other ideas sometime too. but in the meantime, here's a piping hot #6 for you!

perfectly safe for work unless your work doesn't want you using tumblr during business hours. established relationship, no smut, lots of feels, light angst. tried to do my best by romani dick & jewish bruce and then fell down a rabbit hole of 20th century circus town history.

thank you for your prompts and please, folks, feel free to keep 'em coming!

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

These days, when mail addressed to Dick Grayson arrives at Wayne Manor, which hasn’t been his legal residence in like a decade, it’s generally an excuse for Bruce to have a little fun with it. 

(“This relationship is very new, still,” he said the last time, sitting somberly across from Dick at the breakfast table with an envelope in his hand. “Things are delicate between us, Dick.”

“I understand that. We’ve talked about this before, Bruce. I know you want to take things slow.”

“I do. That’s why I’m concerned. It’s far too early to be telling everybody at -” as he looked down at the envelope with a solemnly furrowed brow - “Gotham City Bank Preferred Platinum Visa Rewards Card that we’re moving in together.”

“Very funny.”

“I know you’re preapproved for a special offer with 0% interest APR, but -”

“Oh, just give me the goddamn envelope and shut up.”)

But this time, both he and Alfred see the return address on the big cardboard box when it arrives, and they know whatever is inside, they can’t joke about this.

Gibsonton, Florida has been the winter home of circus and carnival performers since the early Depression. Its unique zoning laws allow residents to keep everything from monkeys to elephants to giant tents and trailers on their property, and in its glory days it was a safe, albeit colorful and bizarre, home for all kinds of people who might have been treated like freaks anywhere else. Pop Haly had been born there, back when the town was at its wildest, and had always spoken of it fondly, though in Dick’s time the circus traveled so far and wide that they didn’t really take whole winters off anymore the way they used to, so his memories of the place were more fragmented.

It would not take Batman - or even an ordinary detective - to figure out what’s in the box. Alfred gets there just as quickly as Bruce.

“Master Richard did mention plans for the circus to sell off some of the assets that were no longer in use, in order to reinvest them in the new permanent site,” the butler ventures. “I do not recall specifics, but I would imagine property -”

“And somebody going through it for sale found something that belonged to the Graysons.”

“Would you like to call him, sir, or shall I?”

Bruce shakes his head. “It’s Wednesday. He’ll be here at seven for dinner anyway. Leave it on his bed in his old room. He might want to be alone when he opens it. We don’t have any way of knowing what’s in that box, or how it will make him feel.”

He doesn’t get answers to either of those questions that night. Dick finds Bruce in the study and kisses him hello with an easy smile, but it falls off his face like a painting on a loose nail when he hears the word “Gibsonton.” He’s alone upstairs for so long that Alfred has to put the chicken pot pies back in the oven to keep warm, and when he comes back down to the dining room he’s uncharacteristically reserved and somber.

“What did he tell you?” Alfred asks Bruce quietly, as he helps the butler carry the dishes into the kitchen, leaving Dick staring wordlessly into his coffee and playing with a brownie he isn’t really eating.

“Nothing. I didn’t ask.”

“Not even to see if he was all right?”

“He’s not all right,” Bruce says simply. “It’s private, Alfred. If he wants to tell us, he will.”

But he doesn’t say anything over coffee and brownies, and he doesn’t say anything as he puts the box in the trunk of his car and drives home, and he doesn’t say anything for days and weeks afterward. 

Bruce still doesn’t ask. But he hasn’t stopped wondering.

* * * * *

It’s nearly two months before the topic comes up again.

It’s a nice night, warm for October, the skies clear. Bruce is sitting alone with a cup of coffee on one of the benches near a corner of the grounds where the leaves are already turning. He still has a few hours before it’s time to leave for patrol, and it’s peaceful here. His parents liked this spot. It’s gotten easier, slowly but surely over the years since Dick came into his life, to live alongside their ghosts without feeling quite so . . . haunted. He can remember the nice moments without as much pain. When he was little, after the fall leaves were raked up into piles but before the landscapers hauled them away, Bruce was permitted to jump in them. He liked the crunching sound.

He hears the same sound behind him suddenly, an odd coincidence, and turns to see Dick approaching across the flagstones, scattered red and gold leaves crackling under his feet.

“You’re early,” he says, smiling, and moves aside to make room on the bench.

“Alfred said I’d find you here.”

Everything okay?”

“Yes. Yeah. I just had something -” Dick pauses, shaking his head a little like he’s gathering his thoughts, and takes a seat beside Bruce. They look up at the stars in silence for a few moments. Bruce doesn’t press him. Dick will talk when he’s ready. He always does.

“So you probably remember that box,” he says finally. He doesn’t look at Bruce as he speaks. “The one that came here for me.”

Bruce nods. “I remember.”

Another silence.

“You know, I kept waiting for you to ask me what was in it,” Dick says.

“It was private.”

“Like you’ve never seen me opening the mail and asked, ‘oh, a package! Who’s it from?’”

“I know exactly what Gibsonton is, Dick. Did you want me to ask, or were you afraid of me asking?”

“I don’t really know,” says Dick.

“Are you bringing it up because you want to tell me now?”

This silence lasts even longer than the others. Bruce doesn’t reach out to touch him, or turn to look at his face, but he lets his knee shift leftward just a centimeter or two, enough to bump lightly against Dick’s. I’m right here, the gesture says. Take your time.

“There was a warehouse on the property,” Dick finally says, eyes fixed on the trees in front of him. “All the other outbuildings were empty, easy enough to get them ready for the sale, but behind the stable there was a big old bunker of a thing I didn’t remember when the real estate agent sent me the photos. All she told me at the time was that the guy who was managing the property had found some personal effects in there and needed access to Pop Haly’s list of addresses of former employees. It was full of shelves with crates and bins on them, labeled, personal things people didn’t want to take with them on the road. I didn't think anything of it, I didn't assume there'd be anything in there for me, so I just sent over the copy I had in the paperwork he left me. But it must have been old -"

"Because the address he had for you was here."

"Gibsonton was home base, see," Dick goes on. "The place they always came back to. Sometimes when you were going out on a long-haul, you might leave a box there for the crew to watch over, if there were things you didn’t want to get lost or broken from months of traveling in a caravan.”

His voice has been impressively steady up until now, but when Bruce hears it begin to break a little, he steps in to let Dick breathe for a moment.

“So the property manager went through the warehouse to ready it for sale,” he guesses, “and found a box with your name on it. Things you didn’t go back for, because you stayed here in Gotham and didn’t go back to Gibsonton when the rest of the circus did.”

“Not my name,” says Dick, and he reaches out for Bruce’s hand.

Bruce exhales deeply. “Oh.”

They sit there like that for a long time. The moon’s almost full. A faint breeze shivers through the tree nearest them - a dogwood, which always erupts into riotous white and pink blossoms each spring - and a few red-gold leaves flutter downward.

“They left a bunch of things in Gibsonton that they didn’t have room for anymore in the caravan after they had me,” Dick says. “Things from their life before.”

“I see.”

“Things that were fragile, or delicate, or just things that there wasn’t a daily use for, so they had to choose between that and, you know, diapers and a stroller and all that. We never had a lot of room. And going from two people to three people in the same tiny space -”

“Of course.”

“They left a lot of things behind,” Dick says, and there’s something strange in his voice. “They left a lot of things behind, to make room for me.”

Bruce turns and looks at him, and squeezes his hand. “You don’t need me to be the one to tell you that nothing they left behind in a cardboard box in Gibsonton, Florida was more precious to them than you were,” he says, “but I’ll say it anyway, if it would help you to hear it out loud.”

Dick gives him a fleeting, weary smile before moving in closer, resting his head on Bruce’s shoulder. At the implicit signal that Dick wants comfort, that proximity and touch are now more important than the distance and silence he’d seemed to require when he first sat down, Bruce puts his arm around him, letting Dick curl up into the massive, sturdy wall of his chest. It seems to ease something in the younger man, who lets out a long, exhausted sigh.

“The biggest thing in it was a lamp," Dick says. "The base is a glass elephant. Mom told me about it once. She’d had it in her bedroom as a little girl. She’d dreamed of joining the circus because she wanted to make friends with an elephant. They’re matriarchal, did you know that?”

“I did.”

“Mom had dreams as a little kid of a trapeze act starring her and a bunch of girl elephants. They would be her best friends, she said. It always made me laugh when she told me about it. They left the lamp in Florida after she got pregnant; Dad was afraid a kid running around a space that small would knock it over, and he knew it was special to her. He always said someday, after they’d retired, they’d buy a little house somewhere, and -”

Dick’s voice breaks off. Bruce squeezes his shoulder.

“We always think we have more time,” Bruce says simply.

Dick nods. “Yeah.”

“It’s nice that you have it now.”

“That was the biggest thing in there,” Dick says. “There were some antique-looking books, and a really old dress - like a prom dress maybe. And some jewelry - nothing, you know, fancy, they weren’t rich, but things that were special. A few pieces that I think were maybe my grandmother’s. I remember them from photos. And a glass box full of shells. They must have collected them somewhere. Maybe on vacations, or maybe when the circus was traveling and hit seaside towns. Dad always liked to go to the beach on days off if we could.”

He sits up, pulling away from Bruce a bit, and reaches into his pocket to pull something out of it - something small enough to fit inside his closed fist, which he doesn’t open right away.

“And then there was . . . there was something else.”

Bruce turns and looks at him. Dick’s eyes are thoughtful, and warm, and a little sad.

“I think she forgot it was in her jewelry box,” he says, looking down at his hand, still clenched tight around something Bruce can’t see. “She talked about it a lot, actually. She always believed she’d lost it somewhere. She wasn’t a terribly superstitious person, it wasn’t that, not really, but it was a habit. And it was special to her. She’d gotten it from her mother.” He opens his palm and looks down into it, but Bruce still can’t quite see what he’s holding. “And the first thing I thought when I opened the box . . .” He shakes his head suddenly, looking up at Bruce with his eyes suspiciously bright. “I’m not explaining this very well,” he says apologetically.

“Take as much time as you need,” says Bruce. 

Dick opens his palm all the way, and holds it out for Bruce to see. It’s a tiny gold oval, tarnished and faded. It looks very, very old. Bruce isn’t Christian, but he’s seen enough holy medals to know one when he’s looking right at it. And despite the fact that whatever graven image the medal once held is impossible to make out - probably long since worn down by decades' worth of fingers rubbing it for luck - he knows enough about Mary Grayson to make an educated guess.

“Saint Sarah?” he guesses. “Patron saint of the Romani.” Dick nods. “This was your grandmother’s?”

“At least,” says Dick. “Maybe older. Mom didn’t really know. She said that her mother gave it to her as a child, for protection, and told her that nothing bad could ever happen to her as long as she had it with her.” He closes his eyes. “She didn’t know it was in the jewelry box, she didn’t know it was in Gibsonton,” he says dully. “She thought she’d lost it. Used to joke about how that meant she was unlucky now. It was funny, when I was little. Every time she got stung by a bee or something went wrong at rehearsal or she was the only one in the whole circus who caught whatever cold was going around, she and Dad would laugh about it. ‘If only you’d had your Saint Sarah medal, this would never have happened.’” One bright tear wavers for a moment on his thick black lashes before falling. Bruce watches its slow progress over the rise of Dick’s cheekbone and down his jaw, wanting to kiss it away but uncertain whether that’s pushing the moment too far. “The medal was in the jewelry box all those years,” he whispers, “and they only left the jewelry box in Gibsonton because they had me.”

Bruce is a pretty good detective, true, but he also knows Dick Grayson better than anyone else in the world, and Dick doesn’t need to say it out loud for Bruce to know exactly what fear is haunting him.

“Your parents’ death was not your fault,” he says quietly, moving closer and leaning forward just enough to rest his forehead against Dick’s. “Even if your grandmother’s belief was provable, Dick, even if the medal truly was some kind of talisman invoking the protection of a patron saint - well, I know very little about saints, but I have a hard time imagining any of them granting or withholding their favor as capriciously as that. Your mother didn’t discard it, after all. She didn’t give up on Saint Sarah because the medal was lost. Perhaps she had her own kind of private rituals or devotions that she maintained in her own way.” He takes Dick’s empty hand and squeezes it. “Or perhaps she had less need of a talisman in her life to make her feel like the luckiest woman in the world,” he murmurs, “once her child was born and she realized how blessed she really was. Maybe she allowed herself to forget it because she didn’t need it anymore, the way she had when she was a child. Maybe it was all right for her to let it go. Mary Grayson always seemed to me like a woman who made her own luck. And her life was more than the worst thing that ever happened to her. She would be happy that her things have finally come home to you, Dick, but she would never, ever want you to blame yourself for being the reason that she’s gone.”

Dick sinks heavily against Bruce’s chest, not fully crying yet but not able to speak either. Bruce can feel the emotions pressing him down with a palpable weight. He’s so preoccupied with listening to Dick’s breathing to make sure it’s steady and he isn’t heading towards an anxiety attack, that at first he doesn’t notice the feeling of something small and warm and hard being pressed into the palm of his hand. 

He looks up at Dick, who closes Bruce’s fist around the medal and lays his own hand over it before lifting his head to meet Bruce’s eyes.

“I know you don’t believe in it,” he says. “I don’t even know if I believe in it. But I need you to take it. I need you to have this, Bruce. Keep it with you, and don’t let it go. I’ll sleep better if you do.”

“Dick -”

"I lost you once," Dick says roughly. "I'm not going to lose you again."

Bruce closes his eyes. He doesn't know what to say.

“If anything ever happened to you, and I wasn’t there,” Dick tries to say, but he can’t quite get the words out.

“Dick,” Bruce says softly. “I’m honored to hold a piece of your family’s history. I’m honored to have this. It’s priceless to me, to have something in my life that belonged to your parents. I don’t want you to think that I don’t . . .” He swallows hard. “That I don’t know what this means.”

That your family is my family. That my family is your family. That if they were alive today, Mary Grayson would be my mother-in-law one day and Martha Wayne would be yours. That it would matter to you, that much, what they thought of me, and what I thought of them.

“So yes,” Bruce says. “I’ll keep this. I’ll keep it forever. I’ll treasure it. But I don’t need a talisman to protect me and keep me safe, Dick. I already have you. And you’re all I need.”

#brudick #brudick fic #my fic #fic prompts #from the inbox #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batman #nightwing #bruce wayne x dick grayson #brucedick

[ladyelissarose]

Warnings: mentions of tending to wounds.

AND LOTS OF FLUFF OK?!?

Long Lost Christmas Wish

 Chapter 4

Y/n’s POV

 After struggling for a while to get an injured Batman up from the floor and into her apartment, Y/n settled Batman on her couch as she ran to her restroom to take out the first aid kit. It was that most annoying moment where you thought you had it in one place but it was actually in another, Y/n searched desperately everywhere and soon ended up in her room scourging through her closet. Her heart beats out of her chest as she’s worried that Batman would be irritated by her taking too long or even had gone up and left already, but when she finally found it on her desk under her paperwork she ran back to the living room to see him slouched down with his eyes closed. Careful to not startle him she approached him slowly and called out to him,

  “Batman?”

 Batman’s POV 

 Batman had his eyes closed but was wide awake, he opened his eyes slowly and tried to sit up, only causing him to groan in through the pain that shot straight through his abdomen and head. He soon felt and small pair of hands going under his arms to his shoulders and gently led him to lean back onto the seating to lay his head down on the arm rest as he laid flat on the couch.  He looked up and saw Y/n come in front of him and level her face with his as she said,

  “I’m going to help you take the top of your suit off, is that ok?”

  “Mm hmm.”

 Bruce could only mutter a hum because it even hurt to talk, but immediately he was able to put together that she was peeling every piece off slowly, he felt the weight of his suit come off his chest. She was very careful to lay each piece down on the coffee table she had there and he could soon feel her fingers touch his heated skin. Batman then heard a soft gasp as her freezing hands came to touch his stomach, gently pressing something that caused pain to rip out and come out as a soft growl from his throat. At hearing his response to her touch she separated her hands from him and and began to apologize worriedly,

  “I’m so sorry! I-I just n-need to stitch this. I didn’t mean to touch-“

 Batman grabbed her hand as a quick reflex to get her to stop panicking, as he put forth through slurred words,

  “T’s ok.. jus help me.”

  He soon guided her hands back onto his wound and patted it twice to give her the cue to go on. He watched her face soften as the worried eyes left her gaze and she nodded at him with a tight lipped smile.

  Y/n’s POV

 ‘Ok Y/n, you can do this.’

 Pouring alcohol onto a white soft towel she began to dab around the wound that looked like a stab wound, she was cleaning up the blood that had poured around it, she then warned him as she looked at him,

  “Ok this is going to sting, quite a bit, tell me when to stop.”

  “k”

  Y/n then pressed the towel onto his wound as she watched his facial expressions the entire time, but he never looked any different, he closed his eyes and kept a stoned face and his breaths came in and out calmly and slowly through his nose,

  ‘He must be used to this kind of pain.. he doesn’t even flinch or move, meaning this is going to be fast and easy to stitch.’

 After 30 minutes she soon was cutting the string she used to stitch him up and was cleaning up around it making sure it was sanitized. Her eyes lingered there for a while as she took in every scar that painted his sculpted body beautifully, she had such a great urge to bend down and mark every single one with a loving kiss.  

 Her freezing finger tips had a great desire to trace over every freckle that covered his skin and dance over his chest gently. 

  Batman’s POV

 Batman opened his eyes at the sudden loss of her freezing fingers and was realizing that she was looking at his exposed body, every scar that held a night long story was in display for her to see, he began to feel shy under her gaze as he saw the new one that took place across his abdomen, 

  ‘how embarrassing... she must think the worst of me at this point... look at all of them.. all blue and purple... green even. No one would like to see this.’

  Slowly looking up at her face as he prepared himself to see the worst he finally made it to her eyes, but, he was surprised to see that she wasn’t holding a disgusted expression or even sad, instead, he witnessed how she held a soft look in her eyes as her eyes watered slowly. Her fingers were only inches away from his chest as they trembled slightly above him. 

 Y/n’s POV

 Feeling his stare bore into her she finally snapped out of it and looked at him as her cheeks burned red with embarrassment,

  “I’m so sorry.. I-I-“

  “Stop apologizing... I should.. I should be sorry.”

  Batman then attempted to sit up with the help of Y/n, soon his back was pressed against the couch. He sat there with his cowl on and his pants on, still leaving his chest unclothed, Y/n sat next to him but about a coupe of feet away. She then said in a whispered tone as she looked at her hands,

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about, every scar that lingers on your body tells a story of the things you do that are so underrated and unappreciated... are you hurt anywhere else?”

  Batman’s POV 

  Looking at her sideways he could make out how she was bringing her feet onto the couch as she hugged her legs still waiting for his response. He knew his head needed to be checked on, he could feel the drying blood that was on his head under the cowl. 

  ‘I feel like my head is going to explode right now.. but I don’t want to take my cowl off.. what if she screams and kicks me out? O-Or tell the media, share my secret? Can I trust her? What if I’m overthinking? All she’s done is be supportive and nice, she didn’t have to do this.. and yet she did.. even after seeing my scars.. she- she didn’t stop looking at them, with... with love.. why do I feel this way.. safe? Noticed? Not ashamed anymore?... maybe I can do this?’

 “my head... it hurts.”

 Watching Y/n’s head snap towards his she shifted on the couch where she was now facing him as she asked,

  “can I.. check it?”

 Batman looked at her worriedly and extended his hand towards her, she placed her soft hands into his gloved ones as he pulled her into his lap, she guided herself to sit on his thighs carefully and had her legs folded to the sides. Looking into each others eyes intensively he grabbed her hands again and laid them on his chest, feeling her freezing hands make a home on his broad warm chest. 

 Seeing his eyes look into both of hers back and forth as his breath grew rapid and his hands laid nervously at his sides, Y/n looked down at him and said lovingly,

  “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop.

 I know your identity is a big deal to you, because of the man you are very night. And you can’t let the world see who you are underneath. But I can assure you, that whatever you have to say or hide, I can take and keep as my own. And I only want to help you, you need help. And I’m here for that... I here for you, just like you were there for me the night we first met.”

  Batman looked at her lips then back at her eyes, and did it a couple times more, still unsure of what to say or do. Y/n brought her hand up to hold his chin as she placed a loving kiss to his busted lips.  

  Tasting the crimson red that was on his lips Y/n pulled away and wiped his bottom lip with her thumb, then proceed to lay a single kiss on his pointed covered nose. Batman closed his eyes as she pulled their foreheads together and told him to breathe,

  “just breathe.. and you let me know.. when you’re ready ok?”

  “ok... I just don’t want you to be scared.”

  Y/n scoffed innocently as she replied,

  “I don’t think I could ever be scared of you Batman.. only bad guys are scared of you.. and I’m not a bad guy right?”

  She batted her eyes lashes at him as they still had their foreheads pressed against each other, he opened his eyes and answered honestly with a slight stutter because of his shyness and nervousness,

  “n-no... you’re an... y-you’re an angel.”

 He breathe out the last three words as he took in her loving gaze with awe. No one had ever looked at him like she did, so full of love and a light that began to penetrate his small and broken heart. There he was under her, at her complete mercy.. yet she was patient enough, to wait for him to trust her, so she could treat him. Separating her head from his she sat back and sent him a soft smile, Bruce could only lift the corner of his mouth slowly as he attempted to mirror her actions, then his eyes were fixed on the necklace she wore, 

  ‘Oh.. how It looks so beautiful there..-‘

  “It was a gift for Christmas.”

 Y/n brought him out of his trance with the words she said as she held it up excitedly, he then knew it was time to tell the truth, 

  ‘Here it goes...’

  “I gave you that.”

 Y/n’s POV

‘What? No... Bruce did.’

  “pardon?”

 Y/n’s face gave a confused expression as she looked into Batman’s eyes seeking answers. Bruce then lifted his hands slowly grabbing hers, led her hands to his cowl, once her hands were on it under his large hands she asked,

  “are you sure.”

 “yes.”

  Then together they pulled off the cowl. 

 He tossed it to the side and looked down in shame, immediately feeling like it was the worst thing he could’ve done, but there was no going back. Y/n took in his face as he hid his gaze away from hers,

  ‘Bruce Wayne? How could’ve I missed it? The shy and kind gestures.. my angel necklace.. only Batman called me an angel, I gave him an angel ornament.. and Bruce gave in return the angel necklace.. I should’ve known... my poor baby.’

  Bruce’s POV 

 ‘Please day or do something ... she probably doesn’t recognize me.. in this mess? Or-“

 “Oomph!”

 Feeling her hands wrap around his neck in a second took him by surprise, he was stiff for a second until he wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling like he was drowning into her embrace. He then heard her muffled words as she spoke with her face against the side of his neck,

  “Thank you Bruce.”

  “You’re welcome angel.”

Bruce could feel his eyes water as he tightened his hug, breathing in her vanilla scented skin, he could also feel her freezing hands spread across his back as she too held him tighter. He then uttered the words that screamed in his head loudly,

  “I love you Y/n, I always have..”

  “So have I Bruce.. I’ve always loved all of you.. without even knowing.”

  Bruce pulled her away to look at her face, her eyes were now puffy along with her lips, she was crying too. Bruce tasted the saltiness of his tears as they fell too, she let out a soft chuckle as she brushed her fingers across his cheeks and eyes, taking the black smudge then wiped it across her eyes, 

  “Now we’re alike.. you’re my sweet angel too.”

  Grabbing her cheeks he pulled her down for a passionate kiss, letting his tongue slip inside to taste her as she deepened the kiss. She pulled away for air and smiled,

  “Merry Christmas Bruce.”

  “Merry Christmas Y/n... my sweet angel.”

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