#give me a bruce wayne who will go to a poor neighborhood and try to give as much money as he can then shed a tear cause he cant

[leoleolovesdc]

If I got the final say on Batman movies we’d have a whole film about Stephanie Brown and Bruce Wayne as the Dynamic Duo

Imagine this: Batman is already a stabilished hero, he has been doing his thing for some years now, probably never had a Robin (at best a recently-turned-Nightwing Dick Grayson who won’t appear during the story) and during a patrol night spying on the Cluemaster’s crew he finds this one kid in between 12-15 years old with a cheap domino mask and a purple cape with a hood in the same task as himself (though way more sloppily). He tries to scold her home but she claims to be a hero too and says that she’s here to spoil Cluemaster’s plans. Bruce insists that it’s not safe and she should go home, but she is persistent and doesn’t back down until he threatens to take her to the cops. She reluctantly agrees to show him the way to her house. They both walk together, the kid anxiously gripping on his arm as they approach this one dirty-looking house in a poor neighborhood, the girl points to the house and says “This one’s mine” and gingerly goes inside without saying another word.

When Batman is leaving he notices the kid stole his grappling gun. He looks upset, but doesn’t try to get it back.

Because of the little distraction Bruce can’t catch the Cluemaster (or Arthur Brown) that night, but he keeps his eyes open during patrol, always checking in on the last location of the gang’s reunion and looking for hints of where he may be hiding, but in this job he keeps running into the kid again and again, he tries a harsher approach, convinced that he’ll be able to keep her away from danger, but she only seems to get more and more persistent. Despite being worried, at some point Bruce accepts that he won’t be able to stop her from running away from home at night to “patrol” and lets it be with one condition; they meet up at a spot near her house, keep tabs on Cluemaster together and at the end of the night Bruce makes sure she is safe and sound at home and she has to accept without complaints.

Bruce starts quite enjoying the kid’s company and they get increasingly closer. They talk about their mission, but also about random things. She brings a light and mundanity to his night shift that he never thought he’d have. She eventually agrees to tell him her name, Stephanie. She gives no last names, though. Says she’ll only reveal her secret identity when he reveals his. He laughs.

Their talks on Steph’s way home become the bast part of Bruce’s day, they discuss everything and nothing, sometimes even stopping to get food and just hang out at rooftops after patrol. Occasionally she’ll manage to steal some of his batarangs and other gadgets, he notices but never complains, letting her have this small sense of victory.

But with all the small hints Bruce starts to wonder why is this girl so obsessed with getting the Cluemaster. He questions her about it. She gets very angry, says that scum like him “deserves to die”, Batman tries to lecture her about it, saying that no one deserves to die and this type of thought is what leads people to acting like Arthur Brown, she shouts at him; “Don’t ever compare me to that man!”. The walk back to the house that night is silent.

Bruce does his homework back on the batcave, having had enough with Stephanie keeping secrets, he finds out that Arthur is her father. He tries to talk to her about it but she shuts him down, they keep having silent patrols for the next week or so, when all this laying-low type of work finally leads to a proper opportunity for an “attack”, knowing this, Batman meets up with Stephanie and tells her that she won’t be coming tonight, says this is a dangerous situation and that she should just stay home and wait for him on the next night. Steph tries to discuss, but he says it’s for her own safety and doesn’t let her have a word on the matter.

Without Bruce’s blessing, Steph goes to Cluemaster’s place by herself. There she finds Bruce in a hard fight, he is outmanned by atleast five people, she is convinced he can’t take it and jumps in through a window to help. Stephanie knocks man out in her land, saving Bruce's ass from getting stabbed on the back. They both finish the fight together, when everyone is knocked out or can't get on their feet anymore, Stephanie jumps on Arthur's throat with a chain, she starts choking him with it, and too tired to fight it, he is about to die. Bruce convinces her not to do it, and she reluctantly agrees.

Batman and Steph take the men to the police, earning some strange looks from Gordon and other cops, who end deciding on not question it. Bruce invites Steph to go on a walk with him. They go around the city, discussing everything that happened, he says that murdering is not worth it. She disagrees. He says that it won't bring her any satisfaction. She stays silent. He asks if she really wants this life for herself. Not because of her father, revenge or as a game, if she actually wants to help. She says that this is all she's ever wanted. He shakes her hand.

"What's your name?"

She hesitates for a moment: "Spoiler"

"Mine is Bruce", he answers with a smile before taking his cowl off. Steph stares at him, slightly taken a back. "Batman and Spoiler, huh? I like the sound of that", he says, giving Stephanie a pat on the shoulder.

This is pretty rough and i didnt rlly re read the whole thing to check do if its incoherent, im sorry, its late, is js spent like a solid hour making this on a ipad and my brain has melted

#i actually couldnt rlly decide if i wanted steph to be robin or spoiler in this #if dick already exists i can see her taking robin after him #but if he doenst theres like no reason for that #and also like spoiler is js her whole thing and i love that color scheme and costume for her #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #batman #the spoiler #spoiler dc #dc spoiler #the dynamic duo #dynamic duo #batman movie #batman movies #the batman #dc #dc comics #dc movies #txt post #text post #text #my text #txt #my txt #my txt post #long post #this got long #rough draft #batfam #batfamily

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Visiting your hometown

What happens when you take your man to your home town? As your memories, people and places come together how will he react?

A small/long drabble to get me back into writing. Enjoy!

Victor Creed

This mutant never thought that he would walk in your hometown. He didn't expect to see cultures that morph together into one special town, your town. A place where you grew up. So keeping all that in mind he was cautious. Various not to offend someone or to say a rude word in your mother tongue. For the first time in his life, he is frazzled and nervous. he will keep in his front pocket a small leaflet some words he heard you say a few times that may be of some assistance. trying to woo you.

-that old hag showed me the middle finger. let's go.

Unfortunately, anything that he says wrong, will be your responsibility to amend it. so good luck.

Loki

you just know that Loki will have your mother tongue in his little finger (that sounds weird but let's carry on) but do not be fooled, he can not survive the morning wave of people in the farmers market. something that is pretty much normal for you. Loki doesn't know how to feel when he sees the local butcher wrapping the meat in todays' newspaper giving it to buyers or how people shove him to the side as his black suit with the green scarf is more than brought down in value. he will hear the near shouts of Famers that are trying to sell their livelihood to him as his head goes from one side to another in a split second. he will easily get reeled in by the old farmer who just smells the innocence on the Midgardian addressed god. you know the moment you grabs his hand he looks at you.

-how did you ever survive in this chaos?

-I thought you said that chaos is your middle name.

-it is however my kind of chaos is more dignified.

-survive just a little bit more, I need to go to that man in the corner.

-oh, no...

Thor

we all in the fandom know that thor is a ball of joy. but when he lands in your city, your territory he is stoic. he is here on a mission and no one should stand in his way. he will glue himself to your side and he will hold the dictionary book in his mighty right hand and your hand in his left. he will not stand for wasting a day on mundane stuff that you do with him back in the HQ so say goodbye to lazying around. when you go to the oceanic part of your country you are now almost ready to drown him in the ocean. or just leave him on the road, it is getting that heavy.

-thor, think it is time to stop.

-what do you mean?

-to be honest, I don't know anymore I am so tired.

-you are right... let us stop. for 2 minutes and then you can drive again.

-I will leave you here.

Bucky Barnes

bucky loves to travel. he loves to see you in the role of a guide you tell him about the park where you cut your leg open and when you got to the hospital as a nun stood above you praying for your recovery. bucky loves to feel the fresh air going into his nose thinking to himself how this was the same air that you breathe in. he loves to see all the different parts of the city where you went to. even so much that he went to your former hairstylist.

-bucky, you don't have to do this.

-nonsense, doll. I want to experience it. just like you did.

-that was eons ago. and I wore super short hair, like a hedgehog.

-hedgehog?

-yeah, it was so short that I only put on gel and made small spikes.

- I will give everything I have and say that you looked beautiful.

-alright, your call.

Steve Rogers

steve cannot wait for enough for him to arrive in the city where you walked, ran, and laughed. he cannot wait to enter your old apartment and see all of the hidden pieces that he wants to know. he loves to help you clean the apartment and see a big box of your old photos. he will look with your through on the hard wooden floor with one arm around your shoulders as you talk about each photo. even showing him the photo of your sister.

-when will I meet her?

-I don't know.

-didn't you say that she lived here, still?

-yeah...

-I want to meet her. I think am ready for it.

-okay...

Bruce Wayne

you just know that when you told him to pack his bags to go with you he did his research. he knows when, how the city was built. he will try to memorize the tongue twisters and say them horribly wrong just to make you laugh. when he looks at your old apartment he tries to envision the day you left it all behind to go to Gotham and it breaks his heart to imagine you in tears.

-bruce.

you take his calloused hand feeling his fingers tighten the grip.

-sorry, I immediately imagined you when you moved out. I got sad.

-why?

-because, you surely cried.

-I did, a little, but this city didn't have that something.

-and what is that?

-you dumbass. now stop sulking we need to clean.

Clark Kent

as Clark arrived at the farm where your aunt lived he couldn't help feel but prepared. he saw the cows eating grabs and was ready in a split second to milk it just to show off his soft and delicate side. Clark heard the stories of your aunt, well one of them, and from what he concluded, for now, this aunt was the beginner level, nice one, the one who won't tear him a new one if he doesn't treat you right. as the door opened you greeted your aunt in your mother tongue and introduced your man. Clark shakingly trying to reply in the mother tongue feeling the few letters that stood together could fall more apart than from his mouth. your aunt laughed hugging him and roughly patted him on his back. almost like a punch if you will. you look at your aunt and Clark cannot help but stand behind you as he whispered.

-what did she say?

-she said that you seem stiffer than a goat's turd.

-you said that this aunt was nice.

-she is. but that is the way we express ourselves.

-with curse words???!!

-what better way.

Arthur curry

Arthur was relaxed when he arrived, he was laid back when he slept in your apartment but that all suicide jumped off a cliff as he shook hands with your mother. Your mom wasn't that intimating but he heard the stories of her standing to your abusive father and running away with just some change in her pocket and a used car. he knows that the woman in front of him is strong can make or break your relationship. so he held the coffee cup in his hands as if was the key to everything he needed to know how to make your mother happy. he saw how your eyes sparkled when you talked to her how your smile ever left for a second you take what seemed to him in complete gibberish but cute gibberish. your mother turns to him asking in English.

-so Arthur, can I call you by your first name?

-yes, madam. of course, you can.

-thank you. well, then Arthur what do you do for a living?

with a small nod from you, he tells the honest truth.

-I am a superhero. but minus the stupid cape. I am here to keep you and your daughter, of course, safe from all danger. and I hope you will like me!!!!

you turn to your mother with a small chuckle as you tell her in your mother tongue.

-he is helpless.

-he seems like it, good luck, Y/n.

Orm Marius

nothing can save his pulse from rising as he walked with the crowd of people in the town square only your hand which he held more than tightly enough. you stopped pointing at a big statue of a colonel on a horse placed in the middle of the square.

-he is a big deal.

-yes, I can imagine the poor people that had to lift it up to place it here.

-yes, but thanks to those people, people now in the present can always remember what they went through at that time.

he didn't find any specialness in the statute for him it lacked in far more than that he can count but when he saw your face looking at the statue he knew that whatever that stirred in you he wanted to see it every day. he only squeezed your hand placing a kiss on your knuckles.

-does this mean you want in your likeness?

-sure, but only if you will make it.

-oh, darling, that is a recipe for chaos.

The Joker

j never put effort into himself. he did in destruction, in chaos, in mayhem, and even in covering his white skin with some basic foundation as he meets your off the edge aunt. when you told him that every second sentence from her is a curse he was more than ready to meet her. because sometimes crazy people click with the people who like to curse. everyone knows that. so when he sat in the house of your crazy aunt he firstly observed, he watched you talked together and exchanged laughs, even more, when you ever brought to tears as you laughed off the curses she threw at you so playfully making even j smile. so when she turned to him it was game time. and you were the translator.

-my aunt asked what is that you do for a job?

-tell her I am the man of your dreams.

-I told her that.

-damn, then tell her-WHAT?!

you giggle at his shock as you heard the playful quote she told you when you were little and j wanted to know what she said.

-what did she say?

-she said "if a girl gives a man a hand, she will give him her ass"

-your aunt is a wise woman.

- I knew you would like her.

Duncan Vizla

Duncan likes to take walks and taking a walk with you next to him as you showed him around your old neighborhood and told him stores of the always pissed on metal slide and the always filled cafes that were always the pinpoints for some scammers he found in question why you like it so much. as you showed his around you stopped at your old elementary school. you showed him the main entrance was where everyone hurled in the morning hours and where you sat with your friends and talked about the horribly proffers that still to this day haunt you. something he heard you mumble in your sleep.

-she was that awful?

-yes, and people like here never get old it's like the evilness she has in her keeps her eligible for work.

-am i not the same?

he couldn't ask a stupider question. and for that, you punched him in the shoulder.

-don't compare yourself to her. you aren't evil.

-you are forgetting my job, darling.

-you kill for money, she kills for fun and to keep herself alive. a difference now let's go home I need to remind you just how good and attentive you can be.

-lead the way, dove.

hope you liked it. Tell me what you think❤️

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#marvel imagine #marvel #avengers imagine #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson imagine #loki x reader #victor creed imagine #victor creed x reader #xmen imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #Batman imagine #clark kent x reader #superman imagine #arthur curry x reader #orm marius imagine #aquaman x reader #joker x reader #suicide squad x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #duncan vizla imagine #polar netflix #thor imagine #Headcanon

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Civilian

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jason Todd is used to saving the innocent. But he’s not used to them saving him. 

Word Count: 3,100 – One Shot

“Fuck me,” Jason groaned as he stumbled across the rooftops.

How he was able to even walk right now was beyond him.

He had Slade on the ropes. Just one more punch to put him off balance and Jason would’ve shoved a knife into his jugular and be done with him. But Slade had a few more tricks up his sleeve and decided to flee instead of finish a losing battle, so he ran like a coward. 

It left Jason utterly irritated and with a huge gash in his side, amongst other various injuries. 

He could’ve called one his “friends” or someone in his “family.” But he was stubborn. He wanted to be stronger than that. He wanted to prove that he didn’t need any of them. He was better than that. He was the best. And he’d risk bleeding out to prove it to them – or really…himself.

But his body wasn’t on the same page.

And it finally had enough.

Jason stumbled to his knees on a rooftop. He groaned as his vision became hazy.

His helmet had a protective system in place so no one could take it off if he was unconscious. They’d get a nice little shock if they tried. His identity would be safe even if someone stumbled upon his injured body… or corpse.

Jason managed to roll onto his back and was met with the smoggy Gotham sky.

“Get the fuck up,” he told himself aloud.

He blinked, trying to straighten and clear his vision.

But it was useless.

The last thing Jason remember seeing was the Bat signal reflecting off of the cloudy sky. Somewhere in the city, there was more crime to fight and he’d just be another asshole who thought he could put a stop to it.

Dying didn’t scare Jason anymore. He’d done it once before, and he could do it again. What did it matter now anyway?

But Jason didn’t die.

He woke up on a couch. Well, if one could even call it that. His 6’4 frame could barely fit on the thing. His legs were hanging off the end, not able to comfortably fit on the thing.

His head felt like it was having the worse hangover of his life. When he opened his eyes, he blinked at the incoming sunlight. Then he realized he wasn’t looking through the programming of his Red Hood helmet.

Then he touched his face to realize that his backup domino mask had also been removed, leaving his identity exposed. 

His eyes widened in slight panic as he looked around.

He appeared to be a in a small apartment – normal, no threats detected.

Then Jason looked down to realize he wasn’t in his uniform. In fact, his chest was bare and he was only in his black briefs. His autopsy scars on full display.

But just half a foot away from him, his clothes were neatly folded into a pile on the edge of the coffee table. His two guns were sitting right next to them.

Whoever had brought him here clearly didn’t see him as a threat. Stupid on their part. There were about two dozen other weapons hiding in the crevices of his clothes too.

But the more concerning thing was that Jason didn’t have a single wound on his body. The giant gash to his side that had made him faint and nearly die from blood loss was nowhere to be found. After all these years, Jason was still figuring out the side effects from being dumped into the Lazarus pit. But this couldn’t be related, could it?

Suddenly there was the sound of the apartment door opening.

On instinct alone, Jason shot up, grabbed one of his guns, and found his target.

What he wasn’t expecting to find was a beautiful woman, probably only just a little bit younger than him, standing with a coffees in a carrier tray and a bag in the other hand. She had earbuds in, further disorienting her from such a welcome. Her eyes went wide and the rest of her body was completely frozen.

After a few seconds, she slowly tugged her headphones out.

“Is the gun really necessary?” She asked.

But Jason could tell from her body language that she was scared.

“Who the hell are you?”

She had enough courage to glare at his tone. “I’m the person who saved your life, asshole.”

“Yeah? And how exactly did you do that?”

She seemed to be getting less scared and more angry with every sentence Jason said.

“If you put the fucking gun down, I’ll tell you.”

Jason hesitated before finally putting it down. Then his behavior caught up to him. Here was this stranger, who was clearly innocent and had helped him…and his first thought was to point a gun at the poor thing.

“Sorry,” he finally gasped. “It’s…a habit.”

She just eyed him, neither rejecting or accepting his apology.

She sat on the love seat opposite of the couch that he’d taken over.

With an innocent look, she slowly put a coffee cup on the table and the bag.

“I’m not much of a cook… so I picked up breakfast. It’s just a black coffee. I figured you didn’t like anything fancy.” 

“T-Thank you,” he stuttered out, trying his best not to sound harsh.

Those words were strange coming out of his mouth. And Jason couldn’t figure out if it was because he’d completely lost his manners or there wasn’t anything someone had done for him lately that warranted any sort of thanks.

“I’m sorry about taking off your clothes,” she suddenly said. “I would’ve given you something. But…well…I don’t have anything even close to your size. Even my oversized clothing wouldn’t have fit.”

Jason was about to tell her it was OK, but she continued.

“Not that I would’ve even been able to put it on you. I hardly got your clothes off.”

Jason smirked at that. “Speaking of which, how the hell did you get my helmet off.”

“Yeah…I managed to get you to come to for a minute or so.” Then she shifted in her seat, clutching her coffee tighter as if it was a security blanket. “I honestly just asked you very nicely. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone what you looked like. You were kind of just…a zombie or something and…took it off.”

Then he took her stature in. Jason knew he was a big guy. He was bigger than the majority of men. He’d only met a few women in his life that were taller than him, and they were all either Amazons or aliens.

This young woman was neither of those things.

“How did you get me off that roof?”

She laughed, seeing that he was trying to add it up in his head. “I’m definitely no Superman. My neighbor doesn’t have any other hobbies besides going to the gym. He owed me a favor.” Then her eyes widened. “Don’t worry, he didn’t see you without your helmet. He’s also sworn to secrecy.”

Jason shrugged. “It’s fine if he did. I can just kill him later.”

He saw her whole body tense up at that.

“Relax. I’m kidding.”

Her tension was released, but she didn’t find his joke very funny.

Then her eyes locked to the floor.

Jason took this chance to study her. 

Her hair was a bit of a mess. But there was still a halo around it as the sun shined from behind her. Her jeans were a bit baggy, but purposely so. She was wearing a band t-shirt that was so worn that there were a few holes in it.

Jason had to acknowledge that she was beautiful. But he had made note of that as soon as he’d pointed a gun at her.

“I ended last night with a life-threatening injury…amongst other things,” Jason said as he looked down at his body. “I woke up with not even a scratch on me. So why don’t you tell me how the hell that’s possible?”

She finally raised her gaze from the floor to him. Then she swallowed and clenched her jaw. It was clear she had been hoping for a scenario where Jason didn’t ask any questions, where he would just give his thanks and move on.

But she wasn’t that lucky. 

“Hey,” he said gently. “You’ve seen my face. You know who I am now. Whatever it is you’re scared to tell me, we’ll be even.”

She stared at him a bit longer before taking in a shaky breath. “I…umm…can do this thing.”

“Uh huh,” he encouraged.

“I can heal people by…umm…touching them?”

Jason sat back, letting the information settle. “Huh,” he said with small nod.

“I saved your life,” she told him. “All I ask in return is that you keep my secret.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he told her.

She nodded nervously, but didn’t seem fully convinced.

“What’s your name?” He asked her softly.

She looked unsure if she should tell him.

“I’m Jason. Jason Todd.” He offered to even the playing field.

She tilted her head, probably because she heard that name before. Everyone in Gotham had at some point. The tragic death of Bruce Wayne’s second adopted son. And then the dead son who had somehow come back, his death misidentified. There were hundreds of rumors about what really happened. But they all sounded ridiculous to her.

“Y/N,” she finally told him.

“Thank you for saving my life, Y/N.” He scratched the back of his neck. “But I have to ask why you did.”

After all, the neighborhood she lived in was weary of Gotham’s vigilantes. Some believed they were keeping them safe, while others thought they were just making things worse. It led to a general distrust of the masked heroes.

“They say the Red Hood used to be Robin,” she told him quietly.

“I don’t pay attention to what people say…”

Y/N leaned forward. “But is it true? Were you Robin back then?”

Jason ground his teeth together. “That was a lifetime ago.”

She watched him for a minute, working out whether she wanted to share something or not. 

“When I was a little girl, I was at the bank with my mom when a robbery went down. Things went bad and quick. They panicked, decided a little girl was the best hostage to grab. We barely got a few blocks away before Batman intervened. I was terrified, even of him. But Robin was with him…and he could tell I was scared. He wasn’t that much older than me, but he was so much braver. He held my hand until the police came. But even then I wouldn’t let go of him. So, he stayed with me until my mom got there.” She took in a deep and shaky breath. “It meant a lot to me.”

Jason controlled his expression, but he knew what she was talking about. He remembered that night. How he did was beyond him. But it didn’t feel long ago. He remembered thinking the little girl was pretty. 

Jason didn’t have a lot of friends back then. He came from the streets but lived in a mansion. He couldn’t figure out who he was back then. And it was hard to relate to other children. 

Back then, it was the most intimate interaction he had with someone his age. 

“Would you still have saved me last night even if I hadn’t been Robin?” 

This was all Y/N would get in terms of Jason admitting that he had been Robin that night.

Y/N shrugged and nodded. Then she cleared her throat. “The only thing saving this shit hole of a city is people doing the right thing.”

Jason stood.

The motion startled Y/N and she followed his action without even meaning to.

Now that he was standing on his own two feet, she truly understood just how absolutely massive he was. She was by no means short and she still felt like she was looking at a giant.

However, Jason misread her gawking for something else. “You don’t have to be scared of me, kid. I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her quietly.

“I’m not scared of you,” she said as her face suddenly felt hot.

Y/N didn’t know what she had expected to see under that red helmet last night. But she definitely wasn’t expecting a man handsome enough to be a model.

But then her brow scrunched, “And I’m not a kid.” Jason smiled – like, genuinely smiled. The muscles on his face forgot what that felt like.

He eyed the band t-shirt she was wearing: Fleetwood Mac – the Rumors album, to be precise.

“You’ve got good taste in music,” Jason complimented.

“Thank you,” Y/N mumbled.

A new tension filled the air.

Something neither of them have felt in awhile – if at all.

Y/N cleared her throat again, starting to feel too close to this large and beautiful man who was only standing in his briefs.

“You can use the shower if you want.”

Jason smirked. “Thanks, but I should get out of your hair. You’ve already done enough for me.”

He took a step toward her, realizing that he seemed to like seeing her reaction to his presence.

She stayed in place, but shifted her weight.

Jason lowered his head a bit. “Your secret is safe with me, Y/N. Thank you again…you saved my life.”

——————

Y/N and Jason couldn’t stop thinking about one another since that morning.

Jason had trust issues. And because of those trust issues, he learned not to rely on others. He refused to be anything besides independent. But those flaws were also the reason it was so hard for him to get close to anyone. He kept people at a distance so he could never be rejected or get his heart broken. It was problematic, but that was how he survived.

But Y/N had shown him kindness and then expected absolutely nothing in return. She just hoped he wouldn’t shoot her brains out when he finally came to.

Meanwhile, Y/N couldn’t remember the last time a man looked at her the way Jason had. Just thinking about the looks he gave her caused goosebumps to shiver across her skin. She’d seen the scars across his skin and knew he’d lived a rough life. And that wasn’t even including the scars his mind and heart held. She wondered who was the last person to help him or to just show him that they cared whether he lived or died.

It had been a few weeks and Y/N still couldn’t get Jason Todd out of her mind. Even now, as she sat on the rooftop of her building once again, eating a pizza she’d just picked up and washing it down with cheap red wine.

She almost spilled said wine all over herself when she jumped from the sound of someone dropping onto the roof from behind her.

Y/N whipped around to see Red Hood walking steadily toward her.

“Sorry. I tried to be loud so I wouldn’t scare you.” His voice sounded different from the helmet distorting it.

“Well, most people use doors and stairs…so I think the effort is pretty useless.”

Jason ignored her joke and pulled out a thick envelope that had been tucked on the inside of his leather jacket. 

He handed it to her.

Y/N was confused, but took it from his grasp anyway.

She opened it to find two tickets to see Fleetwood Mac on their reunion tour at Gotham City Stadium.

Her gaze shot up to Jason’s and then she did a double take at the tickets, making sure she wasn’t seeing things.

“How - What - Why?” She finally sputtered out the right question.

Jason just shrugged. “I owed you.”

“T-This is too much. I can’t accept this. These tickets must’ve cost a fortune,” she told him as she tried to hand the envelop back to him.

But he wasn’t having it and simply shook his head.

Y/N knew they cost a fortune because she had looked up tickets. Her heart had broken when she saw how far out of her budget the lowest prices were.

“Take them, Y/N. Please.”

She knew there was no point in arguing.

But she slowly looked up at him. “Would…ummm… Would you like to go with me?”

Jason blinked at the offer. “Seriously?”

Y/N laughed at his surprise. “Yeah, I mean, clearly you’re a fan, too.” Then she shrugged, now self conscious that she’d been too forward. “I don’t know. When was the last time you did something fun?”

Jason was shocked at how right she was.

“Oh, my God!” Y/N suddenly yelped.

Jason immediately jumped into action, grabbing both of his guns and stepping to Y/N in a protective stance.

“Jason, you’re bleeding!” She cried out, not realizing that he had just used his body as a human shield for her to defend an attack that wasn’t even happening.

He relaxed and followed her gaze to his forearm – the small patch of skin between his gloves and the rolled up sleeve of his leather jacket. He had been sliced by a knife. He probably needed to clean it before it got infected and stitch it up. 

“Y/N, it’s just a scratch.”

“Shut up,” she snapped. “Come here.”

Then he let her dragged him to the two fold-out chairs she kept on the roof.

Jason realized suddenly that he didn’t mind being bossed around by this woman. In fact, he kind of enjoyed it.

Without asking for permission, Y/N put her palm over his cut.

Jason watched as he felt a comforting warmth wash over the area of skin that she was touching. Within seconds, his cut was completely gone.

Y/N gave it a satisfied smile. No matter how many injuries she healed, the pride and relief never went away.

“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” Jason was relieved his helmet hid the dumbstruck look that was surely on his face. 

Y/N didn’t seem to take the compliment very well and slightly folded into herself.

“So, will you?” She changed the subject quickly.

“Will I what?” But as Jason asked for clarification, he knew that he’d probably do anything Y/N would ask of him.

“Will you go to the concert with me?”

He nodded.

The nonverbal answer was enough for Y/N because she gave him a beaming smile.

In that moment, Jason wondered how he could ever push Y/N away like he had done with everyone else in his life. 

And for once, he allowed himself to feel happy.

Maybe he could keep letting himself be happy, as long as it included Y/N. 

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

Really, really loving writing for Jason Todd. I was a little exhausted with Marvel fandom.  Let me know what you think!

#jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd one shot #red hood #red hood fic #red hood one shot #jason todd reader insert #red hood reader insert #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #batman universe #batman characters #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff

[mischiefandspirits]

Last Laugh (1 of 3)

“Oh, I noticed,” Red X said lowly, tossing the staff aside. “What that idiot was thinking letting Flamebird send you all the way across the country right after Batkid got blown up, I’ll never know.”

Robin flinched back at the accusation before his fists clenched at his sides. “Then you’ll be happy to know no one sent me here. It’s just where I ended up when Batman decided he didn’t want to work with me anymore and tossed me out.”

The story of how Dick ended up with the Titans in Batkid and Robin.

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

“Richard?”

…

“Richard, may I come in?”

…

“If you do not want me to come in then you need to tell me.”

…

“I’m coming in.”

Light filled the room for a moment then disappeared. The bed shifted and a hand settled on Dick’s back.

…

“Barbara told me what happened.”

Heat. A ringing in his ears. “BATKID!” “Red Wing, please!” Digging. Bodies. “No. Jason.” A mother and son… or a pair of acrobats… Blood. Footprints leading to tire tracks. “My son, I’m so sor-Robin? Robin, get back here!”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

“Why can’t I come with you and Jon?” “You’re not quite ready for a space mission yet, Richard. I’ve talked to Father, though. He said you could patrol with him and Jason until I return so long as you two don’t get into too much trouble.” “We’re not that bad.”

“I’m sorry,” Dick said, his voice hoarse.

“Imagine how mad he’ll be if I’ve clipped the wings of a baby bat and a baby bird on the same day!” Zap! “Haha! Aw Jeez, I hit Batkid harder than that!” “Shut up!” “So,” a groan, “the first Demon Child taught you a,” a hiss, “a few tricks, hahaha!” “I said shut! Up!” “Hahahaha!” “ROBIN!” “B?” “He’s had enough.” “He killed -” “I know. I… I know.” “Don’t worry, Boy Blunder, you’ll join him soon enough!” “What are you talking ab-” “Robin! Move now!” An explosion.

“I killed him.”

The hand started rubbing circles into Dick’s back. “That’s not true.”

“If I hadn’t attacked him like that, if I hadn't beaten him as bad as I did, he would have made it out.”

“He was the one who set off the explosion, Richard. That’s not on you.” The hand shifted up to Dick’s shoulder and tugged him closer to the warm presence next to him.

He pressed his face into the warmth as another hand came up to card through his hair. “B thinks it’s my fault.”

“Father doesn't think anything right now. He’s still processing his grief. We all are. You are not at fault for what happened. If Joker is dead -- and his body still hasn’t been found so we don’t even know if he is finally gone -- then it is no one's fault but his own.”

Dick shook his head. “I shouldn’t’ve attacked him.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “No, you should not have. It was extremely reckless and we… You could have gotten yourself killed. You are extremely lucky Joker had not expected you to be with Father so you were able to catch him off guard. Impulsive behavior… It’s already taken Jason, you can’t let it take you too.”

Dick’s fingers dug into his calves from where his arms were wrapped around his legs.

“I found my mom.” “Batkid? B said -” “It’s okay. She said Joker isn’t here. It’s safe. We’re going to talk inside so no one sees us.” “But -” “I can talk her around, Red Bird. I know I can. Please, don’t tell B. She’s my mom.” “O-okay. Just be careful.” “It’ll be fine. She said he won’t be back for hours.”

She lied.

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I-That’s not what I mea-”

“Yes, it was.”

Another sigh. The warmth moved away so the hand in his hair could come down to cup his cheek. It brushed away his tears and tilted his head up, but he didn’t look at the face hovering over him. “Richard -”

“I wanna be alone now. Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m tired.”

There was a beat, then the hands and warmth and face moved away. “Alright. Get some rest. I have to go talk to Father. If… I am here if you need anything.”

Dick nodded and laid down with his back to the warmth.

The light came and went.

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

When they returned from Ethiopia, Bruce told Dick he’d be benched for a month. It was partly to give his injuries from the fight with Joker time to heal and partly as punishment for running off to said fight. Damian had agreed when he arrived back on Earth a week later and Dick accepted the punishment without complaint.

By the end, though, he was itching to get out of the manor. He hated being trapped in one place for too long. With the media going crazy over Jason’s death, Bruce had managed to arrange for him to finish the last few weeks of school from home and Damian decided they would remain at the manor instead of heading back to their house in Somerset. It was a longer commute to work and patrol for Damian and meant Dick couldn’t run around the neighborhood to visit with his friends, but it was also more secure against paparazzi.

Dick wouldn’t complain since he knew he deserved it, but it didn’t stop him from feeling trapped.

On the day he was meant to go back on patrol, he was skipping through the halls in anticipation of stretching his wings and releasing the tension that had built up under his grief and guilt. He went looking for Damian once he got home to see if he wanted to spar before dinner. When he couldn’t find him in his room or studio, he went to see if Alfred, Bruce, or Selina knew where he was.

“- for a month. I think that’s a fair amount of time.”

Dick perked up when he heard Damian’s voice and ran up to the door to Bruce’s study.

“I don’t mean he should stay on the bench. I meant Robin should be taken off the roster altogether.”

He froze, hand inches from the doorknob.

“I know he shouldn’t have gone after Joker -”

“It’s not just that. Dick… He never should have been brought into this life. He’s not like us and he was too young.”

“I was younger than him when I started out as Batkid,” Damian snapped.

“You were raised by assassins. He had a normal life before you involved him. He deserves a normal life. I know you wanted to help him, but this isn’t the way.”

Bruce was angry. Dick had known that. He didn’t think Bruce would take Robin away from him though. Robin was… his purpose. His place in the family. Without Robin, he didn’t have any reason to be there. And if he wasn’t there…

“Heard Wayne’s taking Grayson.” “Really? Knew his old man liked strays, but I thought he stuck to animals. Why’s he coming for the kid?” “To honor Brucie’s memory? Hell if I know.” “Well, whatever reason, I hope the kid can behave.” “Yeah. Lord knows Wayne hates people at the best of times, can’t imagine how he’ll take to having a brat running around.” “He’d probably return the kid the first time he acts up. Doubt the poor ***** will get another chance too.”

No, Dick couldn’t lose Robin. But Dick was Damain’s partner and Damian wouldn’t let Bruce do that, right? Right?

Why wasn’t Damian saying anything?

“This is what Richard needs,” Damian finally said after a few moments, but the happiness at his words was overshadowed by the ice sliding down Dick’s spine from how calm Damian sounded.

Why wasn’t he mad anymore?

Was… Was he starting to think Bruce was right?

“No, it isn’t,” Bruce said.

“How is he any different than the rest of us?” Damian asked, voice still calm.

“You were raised by assassins. As was Cass. Duke was in a gang. Tim raised himself in that damn empty mansion and spent years trailing after us through Gotham’s streets with nothing but a camera. And Jason lived on those streets.”

Tearing up, Dick wrapped his arms around himself. He knew he wasn’t as smart or skilled as the others, but he’d thought…

“Dick might not have had a typical childhood, but he had a happy one. He grew up with an entirely different mentality than us. You saw how he looked when he went after Joker.”

Dick flinched. He remembered the rage that had flooded through him. He knew he shouldn’t have gone after Joker. That it was stupid and reckless and wrong. Not justified vengeance, just plain old revenge. The very thing Damian had tried to instill against when he’d started out.

But at the time all he could think was that Jason was dead, had been murdered like his parents, and his family kept dying around him and Joker was to blame. He hadn’t meant to go as far as he did, he hadn’t meant for Joker to die!

He just wanted everyone to be safe.

The worst thing, though, was that as much as he wasn’t proud of how he’d run off and put himself in danger, as terrified as he was that he had killed someone, he didn't regret what he’d done to Joker.

“He doesn’t belong in this life, Damian.”

Dick froze. No. No! Losing Robin was one thing, but to not belong…

“I understand.”

Dick staggered back, hand coming to his mouth as the tears fell. He quickly ran back the way he’d come before the sobs could start.

They couldn’t… They couldn’t!

It was one mistake! It was a bad one, but he knew the others had had bad mistakes too. They couldn’t get rid of him for that, right?

Except the others were Bruce’s sons, and he was just Damian’s foster kid. He thought it hadn’t mattered that he wasn’t really family on paper, but maybe it did.

“You’re not getting a family, circus freak.” “Yeah, foster kids ain’t family. They’re just a paycheck.” “Or some rich bastard’s charity case.” “Either way, no one actually cares about them even if they have to pretend to. And no one would care about someone like you.”

Dick barely stopped himself from slamming the door behind him as he staggered into a closet. He dropped to the floor, pressing his knees into his eyes.

He couldn’t go back to juvie. Losing Robin would be torture, but going back to that hellhouse would kill him. Maybe even literally.

He technically wasn’t as defenseless as he was last time. He was sure he’d probably be able to take anyone that tried to hurt him if he tried, but he wouldn’t be able to try. He wouldn’t be Robin going in. He’d be Dick Grayson, former foster son of Damian Wayne. He couldn’t use any of the skills he’d gained as Robin without risking his identity -- former identity -- and the identities of the rest of the Bats by extension. And he would never do that, even if they did return him.

No, he couldn’t go back to juvie, but where else could he go. It’d been made pretty clear both when he got there and when he left that there was nowhere else he’d be sent. Maybe Babs or Cass would take him? Or maybe they could talk Damian around? Duke, Steph, Tim, and Selina would help, right?

Unless they thought Bruce and Damian were right.

“I understand.”

No, they would talk them around. They had to.

Except Bruce and Damian -- like the rest of the family -- were stubborn. Would the others be able to talk them around before they shipped him off?

Maybe if he could buy them time…

He couldn’t go back to juvie.

Dick scrubbed his eyes and got up to slip out of the closet.

His first stop was the cave. He couldn’t grab his normal suit without anyone noticing, but the updated version had just finished testing and hadn’t yet been equipped with trackers. He stuck it into a lockbox alongside some gear.

Then he was up in his room. He stuck the box into a duffle bag with his travel toiletries.

Before he could grab anything else, there was a knock on his door.

He quietly zipped up the bag and knocked it under the bed as he called, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Richard. Can we talk?”

Dick dropped onto the bed. “Yeah, sure.”

Damian came in with a plate of cookies.

Dick grabbed one, but didn’t press up against his guardian like he normally would.

“You already know why I’m here,” Damian sighed.

“I overheard you talking with Bruce. You’re…” He clenched his fingers around the cookie as he looked up at Damian. “Don’t do this, please. I can be better. I-I won’t do anything like this again, I swear! Please, you can’t! We’re a team. We’re partners! You said so yourself! You cant… you can’t just toss that aside! Toss me aside!”

“It’s not like that, Richard,” Damian said, setting down the plate.

“Then what is it like!” Dick snapped and jumped to his feet, placing them eye-to-eye.

“This life isn’t good for you,” the young man said, meeting his gaze. “Bringing you into it, it was a terrible error in judgment. Father is right. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just doing what’s best for you.”

“It’s not like you forced me into it! I chose this! I want this!”

“You could have been killed, Dick!” Damian said, voice growing louder.

“I’m sorry! I let my emotions get the best of me! But it won’t happen again!”

“It’s over, Dick!”

“No! You can’t do this! I-I won’t let you! You can’t se-”

“Enough!” Damian shouted, then pressed a hand over his face. In a calmer voice, he said, “I’ve made my decision.”

“Dami, please!” Dick felt tears pricking at his eyes as Damian stood up and turned to leave.

“You’re going to stay here until after the funeral next week. We can talk more about what happens after once you’ve calmed down.”

“You can’t do this to me!”

“You’re better off this way.”

“Wayne is going to be the best chance you’re going to get, kiddo. The only good chance, honestly. I really hope this works out for you.”

“I hate you.”

Damian hesitated by the door, then shut it behind him.

Dick couldn’t go back to juvie.

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

Lines quoted or rewritten:

"Imagine how mad he'll be if I've whacked two Boy Wonders on the same day!" - Joker ~ Joker: Last Laugh #6

"Aw... Jeez... I hit Jason a lot harder than that." - Joker ~ Joker: Last Laugh #6

"Bruce... You... You can't! We're a team. We're partners! You said so yourself!" - Dick ~ Robin: Year One #3

"This was all a terrible error in judgment. Gordon was right." - Bruce ~ Robin: Year One #3

"It’s over, Dick! You’re better off this way." - Bruce ~ Robin: Year One #3

#batfam #reverse robins #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #batkid and robin

[d-xs]

PROMPT:

Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Catherine Todd

Warning: implied/referenced child abuse.

Jason Todd makes no attempt to eat his burger or even take a sip from his soda, despite the loud rumbling of his stomach. He clutches the bag tightly, bringing it closer to his chest when he sees Bruce staring, like he's afraid Bruce would take offense and demand his food back.

Bruce Wayne does not understand him. His threadbare clothes do nothing to hide the skin stretched over bones. He can see the outline of the boy's ribs through his red hoodie. He is clearly very hungry and going by the way he can't seem to take his eyes off the bag of fast food or even how he keeps taking lungs full of the aroma wafting from it, like if he breathes deep enough, he will be filled. He would bet his entire fortune that this kid has not had a good meal in weeks, or even months. Even one as unhealthy as greasy fast food.

The child is clearly starving. Yet, he has not made any attempt to help himself.

Bruce does not have any experience with poverty or homelessness. Even at the lowest point of his life, he had access to basic human needs. Still, he knows enough about human behavior to know that Jason's behavior right now is not the norm. When he gives a clearly starving person food, they usually devour it immediately.

There are only a few reasons why he would not want to eat the food he had enthusiastically accepted from Bruce. Either he plans to use the food as payment for his safety, in which case, Bruce needs to start looking into gangs exploiting kids, or he has someone, most likely a younger sibling in his care. Considering the fact that Bruce had caught him trying to jack off the fourth tire of the batmobile, after successfully getting away with the other three, Bruce is not sure what is most likely to be the case.

"You going to turn me in now?" Jason asks him, once Bruce's burger is out of sight.

"I promised you I wouldn't," Bruce tells him as earnestly as he can manage.

It doesn't convince the child at all.

"Yeah, right," he scoffs. "That's what you all say."

"Don't you think it would be counter-productive to have you arrested for trying to survive? I'm trying to make Gotham safe for kids like you, Jason. Not put you in jail. I might take you somewhere safe, so you don't have to keep living on the streets, but--"

"I'm not on the streets," Jason cuts in defensively. The fear and worry in his expression is clear now. "I live with my mom and we're fine. If you're not going to arrest me, then I'll be on my way."

A mom. Bruce can't decide if it's a euphemism for Boss. He has seen some awful things since becoming Batman. He also knows some parents take advantage of their kids and force them into crimes as a way to 'earn their keep'.

Jason is most likely taking the food to this person, if he's not eating it, and Batman needs to separate them if the child is being exploited.

The child doesn't wait for Bruce's response before he starts his trek back to the Narrows.

Making a snap decision, Bruce calls out to him.

"Common, I'll drop you off wherever you want," he says, knowing Jason would never let Batman drop him off at home. The child is too suspicious, and rightfully so.

Jason stops in his tracks, but he makes no attempt to accept Bruce's offer.

"It will be morning before you make it all the way across town," Bruce points out. "That's <i>if</i> you don't get attacked for the food."

With that, Jason agrees to let Bruce give him a ride.

Even though he was quiet for the first couple of minutes, Bruce could see the wheels turning in the boy's head. Jason has a very expressive face that tells Bruce he is gearing up to say something, as he takes in the interior of the batmobile.

Jason doesn't take as long as Bruce thought he would.

"You're probably rich, huh?" Jason observes.

Oh God, Bruce hopes this kid is not about to proposition him.

"Not really." Bruce's answer is terse to discourage further probing.

"So it's true what they say?" Jason continues, either missing Bruce's reluctance to continue with this conversation or ignoring it. "That you're fucking Bruce Wayne for money?"

If Batman didn't have such a tight rein on his microexpressions, he would have choked. "That's not language suitable for a child."

Jason turns in his seat so that Bruce doesn't miss the elaborate eye-roll.

"I guess you've had to pay informants, huh?" Jason asks. "You know, like in the stories, where a dude is rewarded for giving the cops valuable information for solving a crime. You do that?"

"Sometimes." Bruce is invested in where Jason is going with his questioning. "Why? Do you have information to sell?"

"Depends on your going rate," the boy sasses.

"And how much do you want?" Bruce asks.

"I read in the papers that the FBI pay up to a hundred grand," Jason shrugs. "Shouldn't be too much for you to match, seeing as you have a rich boyfriend."

"One hundred thousand dollars?" The only reason Bruce doesn't laugh is because he doesn't want Jason to think he's being made fun of.

That, and the possibility that Jason may be trying to get free from his abuser, by having Batman go after them.

"You really think your information is worth that much?" Bruce asks.

"You tell me, Batman." Jason shrugs again. "It was worth enough to cause a war between Penguin and Scarecrow. Enough to make my dad disappear, not that that's a bad thing."

Bruce doesn't think he's supposed to hear the last part, as Jason mutters it under his breath. But the cowl picks up the words clearly.

A criminal and/or abusive mother and mob affiliated but now absentee father. Bruce is debating calling Social Services.

He's also aware of the war between Penguin and Scarecrow. A few months ago, there were rumors of a collaboration between the two factions to take over Gotham, before accusations of betrayal.

If it wasn't for the lives being lost, Bruce would be grateful for their misunderstanding.

Still, a hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money for someone like Jason, and is most likely to draw the wrong attention.

"I'll give you five thousand," Bruce tells him.

"Out of a hundred? Are you really that cheap?" Jason snorts. "You roll around in a ride like this and can't even pay for information? Okay, I'll do you a favor and take seventy."

"Ten," Bruce counters.

"All you rich assholes like taking advantage of poor people," Jason grumbles angrily. When Bruce doesn't budge, he relents. "Fifty."

"Fifteen."

"Fifty," Jason repeats firmly.

"Alright, twenty five thousand dollars and that's my final offer."

"Deal!" Jason agrees immediately.

Bruce watches him spit on his palm before extending it to Bruce for a handshake.

"Come on," he urges when Bruce makes no attempt to shake his hand. "We gotta shake on it to seal the deal."

In the face of that logical argument, Bruce spits in his own hand before clasping it to Jason's in a handshake.

If Jason believes he has information that can help, then twenty five thousand dollars is not too much to pay someone who clearly needs it. The cash in the batmobile isn't up to the amount, but it should be enough to buy the time he would need to get the rest from the manor.

"Alright." He follows Jason's directions on where to park. "What's this information?"

"Wait here," Jason instructs him, undoing the seat belt. "I'll bring it to you."

Bruce gives Jason a minute head-start before he takes to the rooftops, to trail the young boy.

After a few twists and turns, he comes to a stop in front of a dilapidated building. A woman rushes out and pulls Jason into a hug.

"I've been looking all over for you!" she scolds. "Where were you? Chris said some man took you. Is that true?"

She is rail thin, her threadbare clothes hanging off her body, but she sounds genuinely distressed as she checks him for injuries.

"I'm fine, Mom," Jason says in comfort before shoving the food at her. "Look, I got us food and I found a way to get away from the men looking for dad."

The woman -- Jason's mom -- shoves the food back at him, before pulling him into an apartment with the door barely hanging on a hinge.

It's hard not to notice the woman's limp, or the way Jason supports some of her weight as they go.

Bruce takes a second to process everything.

Judging by the environment and what he's seen and heard, Jason isn't being abused, but he's in even more danger.

Whether he plans to pay off his father's debt with the money or not, Bruce knows he has to get mother and son away from this place before they end up as victims of mob violence. Whether Jason really does have information to sell or not.

With that, Bruce hops down to the street from his perch on the roof.

Despite how mindful he is of the door, the moment his fist to connects with the door, it falls off the hinge holding it in place, exposing Jason and his mother having either a very late dinner or a very early breakfast in their one bedroom apartment.

They both jump at the sight of him, and once realization dawns on them, their reactions are wildly different.

Jason's mom cowers with fear, shrinking into herself while attempting to wrap herself around her son, but Jason won't have it. He is livid.

"What the fuck, Batman!" the child hisses angrily. "I told you to wait for me."

"Jason, stop," his mother pleads, pulling Jason behind her.

The boy is unmoved. His mother's frailness is no match for his strength.

"You broke our door! Why the fuck would you do that?"

Despite his obvious anger, they're both careful not to raise their voices. Bruce imagines that getting a visit from Batman isn't a good thing in this neighborhood.

"Calm down," Bruce growls.

Both mother and son freeze where they stand.

"We didn't do nothing wrong, Batman," the lady tells him in a trembling voice. "If you're looking for my husband, we don't know where he is."

"I'm here for Jason," Bruce tells her, registering her distress just before he turns to Jason. "You were taking too long," he lies. "I wanted to make sure you were fine."

This seems to placate the boy a bit, but not his mother, who demands to know what the hell is going on.

Bruce watches silently as Jason explains his plans to his mother.

Apparently, his plan is to sell the information his father stole from Scarecrow to Batman, in exchange for money that will get them out of Crime Alley.

His mom doesn't look thrilled, but she lets Jason climb into the ceiling to retrieve what her husband had hidden there.

"You won't arrest him when you have what you want, will you?" she asks with a fierce look.

Bruce can't help but admire that about her. Not a lot of people have that look about them when Batman is staring them down.

Must be where Jason gets his spunk.

"Jason is a good boy," she continues. "He did a bad thing, but it was for a good reason. His heart is in the right place, I swear."

"Mrs Todd--" Bruce starts, but she interrupts him.

"Catherine."

"Catherine," he repeats. "I don't plan to arrest your son," he continues as calmly as Batman's voice will let him. "We made a deal and I intend to uphold my end."

"So you're just going to hand Jason twenty-five grand?" Catherine asks suspiciously. "Just like that?"

"Yes," he tells her simply. "But I don't have twenty-five thousand dollars in cash right now. I can give you a thousand tonight, and a safe place for the night. Seeing as I broke your door. Tomorrow, you will get the rest of the money and I will call someone to fix your door."

As he talks, he pulls out the bills from his utility belt and hands it to her.

Of course, he has no plans of letting them return here. But if he has learned anything from being Batman, it's that, sometimes, all some people have left is their pride.

Poor people hate being treated as charity.

Siccing Alfred on her would be more productive. All he has to do is make sure they meet. Dick would probably appreciate having someone young in the manor, too.

"And you swear Jason will be safe?" Catherine stresses, eyes flickering between the money and Bruce's face.

"I swear," he vows solemnly. That much, he can promise.

A few minutes later, Jason returns from the ceiling, an envelope clutched in his hand.

"Jason," Catherine calls softly, pulling him into her arms before he can give Bruce the envelope. "Baby, there's something I have to tell you about…"

#cara writes #ojtserversunday #Jason Todd #bruce wayne #catherine todd #Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne #Jason Todd & Catherine Todd #Catherine is a trying mom #She loves her son #Catherine Todd lives

[thatsjasonfkntodd]

Lemon and Lime

Who: Jason Todd and Roy Harper ( @ibroughtanarsenal )

When: After Roy’s relapse/detox

What: Dealing with the aftermath of Dick’s injury and Roy’s relapse, Jason has a rare sentimental moment. 

Jason:

After Roy’s text about Josh, Jason had just operated on faith that Bruce would contact him and make it happen. He felt like an idiot for not remembering the guy himself. Dick had talked about him and he’d already helped Damian. He hadn’t been thinking straight, though. Not even close. Between everything that had been happening with Roy and then arriving in that alley to the scene that had been waiting for him, he’d done well to keep talking to Dick while they waited and then to string together explaining what little he’d seen happen to Bruce and the others. They’d never had such a ready, thorough solution on hand. He wasn’t used to someone like Josh being an option, but he damn sure wasn’t going to forget the gold kid again. If Dick had died because he hadn’t fucking remembered...But he hadn’t. He hadn’t and Jason had been struggling to accept that and try to just move past it. 

When he got the text that he was okay, from Dick himself and not some third party, a tiny fraction of the guilt eased. Not much. It felt like so much of what had been going wrong the last few months was on him, was because of something he’d screwed up or forgotten or just bucked against only to fuck it up worse. It was getting too heavy to shrug off completely. It didn’t help that he had no outlet (also his fault), that there was nothing for him to do but go between Roy’s place and the safehouse. He had nowhere to lay anything down, no one to give it to. Not that he would have anyway. 

Still, he wasn’t going to make it worse by making all that obvious. He had a bag packed with a couple of nights’ worth of clothes when he got back to Roy’s. He’d already showered and shaved and made himself look more human in some bid for normalcy. “Dick’s alright,” he told him as he dropped the bag by the door. “Thanks for that. I don’t know how fucking long it would have taken us to remember that guy.”

Roy: 

The last couple months had been... a lot. Roy understood why it might be a good idea to extend the time he was taking off work, but for him it wasn't the best option. He needed something to distract him and work was a good distraction. Without it, he was just left alone with his thoughts. It was enough that his mind kept him awake at night. He didn't need to get lost in his head right now. Jason being involved gave him that thing to focus on, even if he tried not to make that too obvious, and it gave him a different purpose. Dick was one of his best friends, but he was Jason's brother. Even if he didn't show it, Roy knew better than to think this was rolling right off his back. 

He remembered Josh randomly, when he'd been changing his shirt and saw the leathery scar the bullet had made in his shoulder. Everyone had their powers back. If Josh did half of what Dick said he could, there was no reason why he couldn't do something for Dick. That was the thought he had when he texted Jason. Roy had no idea if Josh had limitations or what, but he figured it didn't hurt to find out. Dick had woken up from the coma coherent enough, Roy even had plans to go see him later, but that didn't mean he hadn't been damaged in ways they couldn't detect yet. 

"So he showed up? I was about to head over to the hospital." He wasn't sure how things were going to go down, or if Josh would have been able to do anything, but he was relieved it hadn't amounted to nothing. "Good. I wasn't sure if he could heal something that serious. I don't know much about him, but he tried to help me in the park. You know, before everyone lost their powers."

Jason:

Dick had sent him a picture in front of the Play Place at McDonald's, which was a stark contrast to the last way he'd seen him. It was testament enough that he'd be alright. "I guess he can. Dick said he was feeling a little out of it, but he left the hospital." That wouldn't have been an option for weeks (Jason didn't even know how long, really) otherwise. When Jason had visited him after he'd woken up, Dick's memory had seemed fine, but he hadn't done a lot to test the theory. Moreover, none of them had a clue what his balance and coordination would really be like. Weeks of being bedridden would've affected it even more. Josh had saved him a hell of a long road forward. 

Jason combed a hand back through his hair and walked to the kitchen to get a drink just so he had something to do with his hands. He'd been sort of toying with new gear at the safehouse here and there, just for a few minutes at a time. Just to let his mind go somewhere else. Now that he was with Roy though, he put his full focus there again. Maybe the trash couple of months they'd had were finally over. 

"How are you feeling?" He had no doubt that Roy was tired of him asking him that question. Especially coming from him. He wasn't exactly the hovering, nurturing type, but he couldn't stomach the idea of coming across like he didn't give a fuck right then.

Roy:

"Surprised they let him leave." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Roy felt stupid. Of course they let Dick leave. He was the son of Bruce Wayne. Money went pretty far even in a city like this, especially now that the same wealth was connected to one of the most infamous vigilantes in the country. He was relieved that it wasn't going to be as fraction of as bad as he imagined. Gunshot wounds weren't a walk in the park. That was something he knew firsthand. And gunshot wounds to the head came with dozens of complications. "That guy's useful to  keep around as long as the inhibitors stay off." 

Leaning against the couch's armrest, he peeled off his jacket and tossed it over a nearby chair. He made the effort to eat more now that his appetite was coming back. "Hungry. How do you feel about pizza?" Already he was pulling up the app and scanning the places nearby. Usually they went for Thai, but he was in the mood for something different tonight. "I know my neighborhood has shit choices, but at least they deliver." It wasn't like they could ever get delivery at Jason's safe house.

Jason:

“Yeah...not used to having an ace in the hole like that. Could’ve used him about a dozen other times.” They’d all had the hell beat out of them and worse. Way worse. He assumed Josh had plenty of other things to do than keep their family alive, but it wasn’t like Bruce couldn’t offer him a handsome reward. How much was it worth to save his kids? Jason almost wanted to ask out of morbid curiosity. 

He walked over to stand behind Roy, still clutching a bottle of water in one hand, and peered over his shoulder. “Get one with everything but pineapple.” Not that he wouldn’t also eat the pineapple, probably, but it was a wrench in the line-up. Jason kept hovering as he ordered and ended up setting he bottle down. He hated the weird buzz of nervous energy he kept having. He wasn’t used to it, it felt all out of place. 

Once the pizza was on its way and he saw the little tracker pop up on the app, he reached to put his hand on Roy’s hip and turn him. “The neighborhood isn’t that bad. At least you don’t live in the fucking suburbs.”

Roy:

"I wouldn't have remembered him if it weren't for the whole..." Roy gestured to his shoulder, even though it was healed by now. Every now and then he had small shooting pains in it, but he figured that would go away eventually. It wasn't as if he knew how Josh's powers worked anyway. Maybe that wasn't even something he could do anything about it. "Bruce might as well contract him out at this rate. Just bring him along on missions." Poor guy. He was now another honorary member of the batfam, whether he wanted to be or not.

He smirked and hit the order button. "Too late. Three pineapple pizzas coming up." Maybe he wasn't as detail-oriented as most people, but one thing he could remember was a pizza order. Jason's, at least.

Tossing his phone on the couch, he was prepared to say a comment about suburban life, but then hesitated once they were actually facing each other. Jason's strange energy didn't go unnoticed, but he didn't even know how to pinpoint where it might be coming from. There were too many possibilities. It hadn't been an easy month. "What, Red Hood doesn't dream about buying a little house with a white picket fence? Welcoming me home with a martini? I could get on board with the suburbs."

Jason:

“Pretty sure he already pays for the kid’s clinic thing.” Jason didn’t really know the details. Dick had told him a few things about Josh, some of which he was pretty sure had been a half-assed attempt to bond with him, but he hadn’t asked a lot of questions. They’d all owed him for helping Damian, though, and now that was doubled. He definitely wouldn’t be forgetting about him again. 

He immediately scoffed. “You act like I wouldn’t eat three pineapple pizzas.” He would without hesitation, but even Jason wasn’t really thrilled by the idea of it hanging out beside some anchovies. Just because he’d eat practically anything didn’t mean he wanted to spend money on something that shouldn’t reasonably exist. 

“Sure, I’ll get down on one knee right now. We’ll have a tasteful wedding. You’ll join the housing association, I’ll barbecue for the neighborhood. We can get a couple of those...” he opened one hand, “fucking French bulldogs or something. Call them something stupid like Lemon and Lime.”

Roy:

Roy snorted. "So he basically paid for medical care and then didn't use it." Bruce had looked pretty strung out at the hospital, shell-shocked, like they all were, but it was still a bit amazing that he hadn't remembered Josh existed. He knew Jason was upset by the whole thing, so it was difficult to maintain any level of frustration about it. "I didn't think about it until my arm cramped up. It's like you said, we're used to taking care of ourselves."

Even though he was more than willing to try anything, pineapple pizza wasn't something he wanted to try twice. Pizza was one of those things Roy liked to be plain. "The cheese is the best part. Don't see why people like covering it up with all the other flavors."

"Tasteful wedding my ass. I'm marrying one of Bruce Wayne's kids, that shit should be bougie." Lemon and Lime. He laughed. "It's like you read my mind. Except golden retrievers. I don't fuck with dogs I can step on."

Jason:

“Bruce doesn’t know where half his money is at any given time, of course he didn’t.” That wasn’t really true in a macro sense, probably. There was no way Bruce was actually unaware of what Wayne Enterprises was doing. But on a ground level? Jason had charged all kinds of weird shit to him over the years. He waffled between wanting nothing at all to do with his money and then going hard in the other direction with moments of I’m his son whether he wants me or not. It was usually more of the former. Jason had always been self sufficient in every way it was possible to be. 

“Because it’s a vessel. Pizza is like a dough plate you put other stuff on. If all I wanted to eat was cheese I’d just eat fucking cheese.” Which he’d done several times at three in the morning, standing in front of the refrigerator with his hand shoved in a bag of  fiesta blend shredded cheese. 

Jason snorted, but didn’t really agree or disagree. Instead, he kept his grip on Roy’s hip and pulled him closer again until they were flush together. “What’s bougie enough for one of Bruce Wayne’s kids?” he bowed his head a fraction as he asked, letting his lips make a short trail over the side of Roy’s jaw.

Roy:

"Bruce and Ollie have a lot more in common than I thought." Oliver had a stupid amount of money. As a kid, Roy didn't really have a concept of what it was like to be rich. Even though Oliver had adopted him, took him in as his own kid, sometimes he acted more like a big brother. There were plenty of times when he'd fallen short of what Roy wanted. Or needed. It was nowhere close to what Jason had experienced with Bruce, but he understood the complex dynamics more than most people would.

Jason's pizza theory just made him snort derisively. "Insane. The cheese and the dough is the whole experience, at least if it's good pizza." He'd never been the kind of person to leave the crust behind. Those people had something wrong with them.

He pretended to think about it even though he was quickly getting distracted. "I'm thinking a cruise. Just rent out the whole boat and whoever we want to put up with. Unless there's a couple you'd want to throw overboard." Smirking faintly, he caught Jason's mouth with his own before he had the chance to respond.

Jason:

“You don’t have to tell me.” Roy and Jason didn’t have the same experiences with the men who’d been father figures for them, but it was close e-damn-nough. It was one of the things that made Roy easy for him to be around, easy for him to talk to even if he didn’t actually do much talking (about that particular thing). Neither of them exactly had to stretch to see the same perspective and know what it felt like. 

“Not worried about good pizza, I’m worried about a lot of pizza.” Let it collapse under the weight of itself. Jason could’ve easily afforded those two things to be one in the same right then, good pizza and a lot of it, but...old habits and all. 

The distraction was welcome. He wanted one, to just pour the weird energy he had into something physical, but even Jason didn’t lack so much self awareness as to think that’s what he needed to do. Still, he killed a minute or two. The kiss got deeper, more hungry, and Jason’s grip tightened enough on his hip to be just shy of hurting. When he made himself pull away, it wasn’t very far. He still had his eyes closed and let his forehead rest against Roy’s. “I wanted to tell you...” he started, hesitated, and made himself finish it before it started to sound too stupid to say, “I’m proud of you.”

Roy:

Although Roy had never directly compared his experiences with Jason, he could relate to him in a lot of ways. It didn't even completely have to do with Bruce and Oliver. There was also the aspect of living up to an impossible standard. He'd felt deficient enough being on the same team as Dick and that was just because they'd both been sidekicks to big name heroes. It was easier to accept his role as the bad sidekick than it was to compete with him. He couldn't imagine what it was like for Jason to follow in his footsteps, especially with Bruce as a mentor. "Did I ever tell you Bruce told Ollie I was a bad influence on Dick? At the time I thought he was probably right, but in retrospect it's fucking hilarious."

He rolled his eyes. "I got plenty of pizza." Even as he said it, Roy found himself second-guessing his own confidence. How many inches were the large? He hadn't looked. Oh well. They could always order more.

It surprised him when Jason pulled back like that. He was used to both of them giving way to distraction, which wasn't something he typically had a problem with. That was usually better than whatever serious subject might need discussing. The last few weeks had been a lot to handle; he wasn't exactly eager to push for deep revelations. What Jason did say, however, wasn't anything like he'd expected. Roy stared at him for a moment even within that small space between them, but then lifted his hand, his thumb slowly tracing the bone in his jaw. "Yeah?" It was touching in a way he couldn't really hide, so he also closed his eyes. "Thanks, Jaybird."

Jason:

That got a laugh out of him. “Can’t say I’m surprised. On paper, you do look like the red headed stepchild.” As he said so, he reached up and pushed one hand back through Roy’s hair, catching it lightly between his fingers. “Nobody stacks up against the golden boy, anyway. Been there, done that.” Of course, he’d recently gotten a break. Learned a little. Dick cracking the surface didn’t immediately undo all the years Jason had spent feeling like he needed to try to catch up to him, always failing to actually do it, but it took some of the sharper edge off. 

Jason let go of the other’s hip and raised that hand to curl his fingers around Roy’s wrist when he touched him. He kept the grip tight for a few seconds. “Yeah,” came the quiet confirmation. He was proud of him. There were a lot of people in the world who couldn’t pick themselves back up the way that Roy did. Even if they wanted to. Hell, there’d been other people in his life who hadn’t been able to do it. Jason turned his head enough to press his lips against Roy’s palm. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

Roy:

"On paper," Roy stressed, rolling his eyes. "In real life I'm a lot more impressive." Maybe not, but of all the people Dick hung around with, it was ridiculous to think that he'd be the one to worry about. Shaking his head, he reached up to catch Jason's hand in his hair, pressing his fingers. "Have you wrote the book?" It was impossible for him to compare Jason with anyone, but he figured all the Robins had to be somewhat competitive with each other if they'd all taken on the role at one point or another. "You stack up just fine on your own." 

That was definitely true. Jason wasn't the type to blow smoke up anyone's ass, least of all his, and everything he said was significant. Roy's face felt a little warm and he bit the tip of his tongue. The tips of his fingers lingered against the side of Jason's face for another few seconds, but then he leaned in and kissed him softly. It was either that, thank him again like an idiot, or make a joke. For once, he wasn't eager to ruin the moment.

Jason:

“Maybe a little more impressive,” he corrected. But that was bullshit. Plenty of people had written Roy off and they’d been wrong. Ollie might have fucked up a lot along the way, but at least he’d seen the potential in him in the beginning enough to take him in. Jason, too, had found plenty of unexpected things in Roy Harper - ones he’d never counted on when he made the snap decision to go interfere with that execution. For all intents and purposes, he’d saved him because he didn’t deserve to die, but it hadn’t gone past that. He’d certainly never expected to count on him, much less...love him. “Yeah, it’s a bestseller.” He let out an audible breath through his nose at that comment, both not really buying it but not wanting to stand there and launch into some self deprecating spiel either. Whether he stacked up fine or not, Roy seemed alright with it. 

Jason accepted the kiss, adding a little more pressure, and eventually dropped both his arms down to wind the around Roy’s waist and pull him flush against his body. He was fine not doing the emotional thing. He’d said what he wanted to say, what he wanted Roy to know, and meant it.

Roy:

Even though Roy believed that he no longer determined his worth by what Oliver did or didn't do, he couldn't deny that he was an important figure in his life. It had taken some time for them to mend their relationship, but things were better now than they were years ago. That said something. He didn't know how Oliver would react to his relapse, it wasn't something he was eager to talk to him about, but he figured they'd cross that bridge when they reached it. For the time being, he was perfectly happy with small talk. "Remind me to get your autograph later." He smirked, his hand sliding into the side of Jason's hair. 

Roy wasn't as adverse to emotions as Jason was. It was easier for him to talk about things and show some vulnerability, but it often took a great deal of pressure and frustration before it happened. Positive emotions were something different. Neither of them seemed particularly comfortable with expressing those. It had taken forever for the word love to even enter the picture. He was sure they still had more ground to cover, even though he wasn't 100% sure what it was. 

When he pulled him closer, his hands dropped to his sides, fingers twisting in Jason's shirt. When he did pull back it was only far enough to speak, "When did you get so sentimental?"

Jason:

“I dunno man, it’s pretty valuable, I’m not sure you’ve earned an autograph.” He closed his eyes just briefly as he felt Roy’s hand in his hair, catching just enough in the curls for Jason to feel the tug. He needed to cut it, probably, but it was hard to care when he’d been laying low for months already. 

He’d never found it easy to be vulnerable with people. There had been too many times where he’d been taught that getting attached was a bad idea, that feeling something for someone was dangerous. It was even worse if they knew it was happening. It left him too exposed. More than that, though, part of him just believed that people should...know. If he was with them, if he stayed or helped or just made himself present because he wanted to, the real time demonstration should’ve been enough without the words or some kind of admission. He valued action over talk, without fail. If someone said something and didn’t follow through, the words were meaningless. Jason followed through. It didn’t always occur to him that that wasn’t enough. 

The question made him roll his eyes. “Oh, are we done already? I can pack it back up and have you face down on the bed in just a second.” Maybe he’d do that anyway, but he’d been trying a different tactic.

#i got you buddy; roy #discord; lemon and lime

[ellana-ravenwood]

Insecurities shmunsecurities - Bruce Wayne x Insecure!Reader

Summary : Bruce Wayne, your boyfriend, is decided to help you overcome every single insecurities you’ve ever had. 

This is a very, VERY self-indulgent fic. As usual, I was feeling extremely insecure about my writing and..What do I do in those instances ? Well, I write (but of course). This is the result. It’s fucking long. Hope you’ll like my poor writing :

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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Bruce Wayne was curing your insecurities one by one. 

Ten months ago, when you first met him, you would have never thought he would be the one to do such a thing.

He looked so full of himself, so confident, so so sure of everything, so at ease in social situations...How could a man like that, better than you in every ways, could pay any attention to you ? 

And yet, at that charity ball you organized, he was instantly drawn to you. 

It was such a small thing, that charity of yours (you had created it to give better access to books to the disadvantages people of GC), happening in one of the poorest neighborhood in Gotham. 

When you sent an invitation to Bruce fucking Wayne, it was as an inside joke you had with your colleagues helping you organizing everything...”Oh, let’s sent a formal invitation to Bruce Wayne, the most powerful and richest man in Gotham, he’ll totally come to our shitty little charity ball right ? Haha hahaha hahaha !!”...You were all quite shocked when he actually showed up, accompanied by all the big name in town. 

Needless to say, you exploded the goal you wanted to achieve by raising a shit ton of money ! 

Yes, at that small little insignificant ball you had organized, expecting only a few middle classed people to come, he was instantly drawn to you, even though he had one of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen glued to his arm (she was so rude to you...and yet, she was incapable to grasp “Brucie”’s attention like you were !). 

Bruce was pretty sure (though at the time he was in total denial) that he fell desperately in love with you when he heard you say : “Do I look like the champagne police lady ?!” to an old and extremely rich woman who was complaining about the low quality of the drinks that were served. 

Hell, he realized he was doomed as soon as his eyes laid on you and you shyly and awkwardly smiled at him, waving your hand at him, and in the process, throwing the platter that a waiter was holding into the air, making a huge mess once it hit the floor...

He loved the way you didn’t care he was Bruce Wayne, and talked to him like you would to any other person ! He loved the ways you were so...unimpressed with him. The way you looked so out of place amongst the rich and powerful of Gotham. Not that you were les worthy than them, oh no, just...You were so uninterested in power and money and appearances, it was so refreshing ! 

Bruce always smiles when he remembers your reaction when he asked for your number. The way you furrowed your brow, narrowed your eyes at him and said : “I don’t play games Mr. Wayne”, pointing at him accusingly. 

And the way your cute eyebrows raised in surprised when he told you that he wasn’t playing any games, trying to pour all the honesty available in him in his words so you’d believe him (he was really telling the truth !). 

He must have been convincing because, ten months ago, you gave him your number, totally stunned that a great man like Bruce Waybe would even talk to you...and since then, he made it his mission to show you that you weren’t as worthless as you thought, quite the contrary ! 

************

The first insecurities he cured was in regards of a certain “Catwoman”. 

After you gave him your number, it didn't take long for the both of you to actually date, and though at the time things were still kept secret (his way to preserve you from unwanted attention, wether it was medias or villains), it was getting quite serious. 

You had discovered he was the Batman quite early on...before dating him in fact, you already had strong suspicions (only Bruce Wayne made sense, though he was covering his tracks quite well with his fake playboy persona and with his public “money” support to the bat). 

He didn’t know yet that you knew, but given how understanding you were when he suddenly had to go, or when he didn’t spend the night...He kinda guessed you must have known. But he wasn’t quite ready to tell you, to let you enter his dark World, he had to “preserve” you you know ? 

Yes. You knew he was Batman and it wasn’t a problem. You had absolutely no intention to stop him, on the contrary, you were certain Gotham City desperately needed him. 

You were worried, sure, but it was so important, you really understood (another reason he fell in love with you...you understood him so completely). 

No, what kinda bothered you about this all thing were the rumors about him and Catwoman (that you knew was Selina Kyle, of course). 

Now you couldn’t outright ask him could you ? You weren’t suppose to know he was Batman and you wanted him to tell you ! It was important that he did, it would mean that he really trusted you (he already did but again, he wanted to preserve you from the complicated side of his life as much as he could). 

No, you couldn’t just ask him, you had to be smart about it. 

One night, one of the rare ones he stayed with you (Batwoman, his cousin, was on duty...later, Alfred would say that he knew you were the one because only for you would he skip patrol) and, with your most innocent look, you casually asked him, as you were cuddling against him after an amazing love making session : 

-So hum...D’you ever have a serious relationship before ? 

Bruce smiled at your tone that you’d try to be as casual as possible without quite succeeding, and at the way you didn’t look up at him, your face kinda buried in his chest..He knew you were blushing and that it took you a lot of courage to ask him that. 

You wanted to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, but he knew better. 

With a bit of a mocking voice, he said : 

-A serious relationship “before” ? Before what ? 

Your head snapped up and the hurt look he spotted in your eyes made his heart drop and he instantly regretted his joke. 

By instinct, his fingers tangled in your hair and he caressed your scalp soothingly. You didn’t say anything, as your eyes bore into his deeply, and he felt so disarmed in front of you right now...It should have frightened him, how you made him so vulnerable so easily, but it did the opposite. 

It made him love you more, if that was even possible. 

In a soft and low voice he says : 

-Yes. Yes I had a  somewhat serious thing with a woman before you...but let me tell you right now that nothing even compares to what I feel for you now. 

You don’t look too convinced and, still looking at him, you just murmur : 

-Selina Kyle ? 

If he’s surprised that you guessed that right, he doesn’t show it (another reason he loves you...you’re a smart cookie). 

He wrapped his free arm around you, as his other hand still ran through your hair and he answered : 

-Yes. Selina Kyle. But believe me honey, you eclipse her in every way ! 

Bruce knew you didn’t believe him, but he couldn’t find the right words, in that moment, to reassure you...

It’s about a week after that, at a gala, that he cured fully this insecurity of yours. 

************

You hate being alone at one of those little soirée, but you understand...he went to get some drinks, and he always mingle with people on his way. 

You’ve been going out together publicly for a few months now, and it’s not as bad as you thought...

Sure, tabloid magazines keep releasing articles trying to guess how long it would last (none of them had the right answer. They were all talking about “a few months at most”, while you’d be together until your death decades later), but most people (though extremely jealous of you or of Bruce to have you), couldn’t deny that you made a great and well assorted couple (though you thought you weren’t beautiful enough for him...how wrong you were, especially since your natural aura made you just so damn charming and attractive). 

You had found a somewhat hidden spot in a corner of the room, while Bruce wad doing what he had to do, when you first met her. 

-So you’re the famous (Y/N) (Y/L/N) everyone is talking about uh ? 

You turned around and...There she was. 

Selina Kyle. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes widened a bit...She was so...so...so much “more” than you. 

More talented, more mysterious, smarter, sexier, funnier, her hair were better, her eyes brighter, her legs thinner...Everything about her was outplaying you. 

You smile shyly at her and you’re surprised by the warm smile she gives you back, you were definitely not expecting that...Selina had wanted to be a bitch to you, after all, it was because of you that her “on and off” relationship with Bruce was now definitely “off”...But you were just too cute. 

-Famous I don’t know but...yeah, it’s me. 

It takes all of the will in you not to back away when Selina walk straight to you and stops mere inches from you, staring you up and down. 

You’re usually witty and sarcastic, fearless in front of people but...there’s something in Selina Kyle that intimidates the Hell out of you...She’s just so much better than you ! 

With a smile that would have seduced anyone (and oh man was she attractive ! Yummy !) she says : 

-Oh you’re famous alright. Not just because you’re dating Bruce by the way. I heard you were...How did they put it again ? Oh right, “The Comeback Queen”. Apparently, you’re quite a quick thinker and don’t let any of them -she points at the people around you- walk on your feet. Oh don’t blush sweetheart, I like it !

Her last words make you blush even more and you look around a bit desperately, hoping Bruce would come back soon. 

You know she sees you’re uncomfortable and you know she thrives because of it...but you can’t help it, she’s so...UGH ! 

You can definitely see what Bruce saw in her. 

Little did you know that, as she looks at you intently, she was thinking exactly the same thing about you. She could see what Bat saw in you...You don’t say anything and she continues : 

-So...it’s because of you uh, that Ba...Bruce doesn’t want to sleep with me anymore ? 

Your blush is gone in an instant, and Selina realizes she must have awaken “The Comeback Queen”...But you still don’t say anything. Oh no. You do worst. 

You just turn around slightly away from her and ignore her utterly. 

You understood what she was doing, and she made one mistake : talking about Bruce and sleeping with him (you’d never admit it but it filled you with happiness to know he refused her because of you...you’d discover later that Bruce wasn’t the cheating kind at all, he could never inflict such pain to someone he cared about, he’d leave them if he wasn’t in love anymore...Just like he told Selina it was over right after your first kiss with him...)

Yes, Selina Kyle made a mistake talking about him. 

You had understood quickly she came over to “test” you, to tease you a little bit...And it was working, but she should have continued talking about you, and not utter a word about him. 

Because it awakened something in you, the part that couldn’t help but fight back, even when it knew its adversary was better...And here you were, ignoring her. It completely stunned her...she wasn’t used to be ignored. 

But before she could say something else (you could see her preparing to say something in your peripheral vision), you felt a protective hand wrap around your waist. 

Bruce. 

He had a worried look on his face, his eyes switching between you and Selina...He knew how iffy you were about Catwoman, knowing it was his only other serious relationship...He knew you felt inferior to her, though he didn’t understand why. 

You were so perfect to him. Selina was great but you...Oh you were something else entirely. It tore his heart apart to know that you didn’t even know it...

-Good evening Selina. 

He says, a bit on edge, as you turn to him. But you smile brightly at him, which reassures him a bit. He says : 

-So...I see you’ve met (Y/N). 

You don’t leave her time to respond as you go : 

-Oh yeah, we’ve met -you turn to Selina an obvious and exaggerated fake smile on your face-, Selina Kyle, the woman you’ve stop sleeping with because of me apparently. 

It’s quite satisfying, really, to see all color leave her face like that. And the severe, almost angry look Bruce gives her ? Priceless. In a cold voice he says : 

-What did I say, Selina ?

But the woman, momentarily disarmed in front of your fake-smile (you changed mood so fast !) was back once again in her normal self and nonchalantly says : 

-Well to be honest, your speech was so long and disgustingly cheesy that I don’t recall everything really...Oh fine fine don’t make that face Bruce, it makes you look ugly. You said to leave her alone, because you love her -she turns to you- really sweetheart I’m making it short, because it was really long and boring. 

You’re a bit stunned by her word, and you’re so glad Bruce talks first because you just didn’t know what to say : 

-Let me refresh your memory. I said that I would appreciate if you left my girlfriend, (Y/N) here, alone. If you wouldn’t do to her what you do to everyone, which is toying with her. Don’t interrupt me please Selina, I know you don’t always toy with people, I know what we had was real...But here’s the key word : “was”. We both knew it was a mere infatuation. There’s a deep friendship between us, yes...but no love. Not romantic at least. I can’t lie to you and tell you I don’t care about you, because I really do...But I don’t love you. I love her. I won’t be uselessly cruel by explaining to you how much I love her, but...You know don’t you ? And so please, she’s already so...unsure of herself, so leave her alone. I thought I was clear on that...

Selina takes a quick look at you (oh you’re just so damn cute, blushing and not really knowing what to do, planted in front of them like that !) and then back at Bruce, yawns (for good measure, because his speeches are always so damn serious and boring) and says : 

-You were clear. I was just...Curious. Who stole the Bat...bachelor’s heart ? Genuinely and fully stole it ? Not just like me, not just conquering a part of it...earning it completely. I was just curious. And you sweetheart -she turns to you once more-, I got nothing on you. You know, you can call me a lot of thing, but what I’m not is modest. I know I’m beautiful, I know I’m intelligent, I know I’m great really...And I am completely honest when I say that, if you’re not better than me, at least we’re equal. Oh but why are you so cute ? Don’t make such a face I’m serious. Besides, I see the way he looks at you. He never looked at me like that. And I just used all my quotas of compliments for the year so...If you’ll excuse me, I have to go steal a few things. I mean...I have to go...mingle...With...rich men. 

You can’t help but smile at her, and feel a surge of...confidence ? Is that how it feels ? Surely, if even a woman like Selina Kyle said all those things, it must mean there were (part) true right ? 

Elegantly and nonchalantly (this woman was a total badass), Selina takes the glass of champagne from the hand of a man and turns around back to you and Bruce and says, a mischievous smile on her lips :

-If you ever break up, call me. 

You narrow your eyes at her and Bruce groans : 

-Selinaaa...

-Oh Brucie, you thought I was talking to you ? Oh no my dear, I’m talking to your girlfriend there. I quite like her really...

And on that note, she winks at you, making you blush like crazy, and leaves behind a very stunned Bruce and a quite flattered you. 

On that night, thanks to Bruce and his speech, that sprawled the Catwoman herself to shower you with compliments...You were completely and utterly cured of your insecurities towards her. 

Yes. Yes maybe you weren’t better than her but...Bruce chose you. He refused her. He told her he loved you. Only you. And his speech...

Yes. Insecurities cured. Gone. Forever. So much that you became quite good friends with Selina (it was funny how Bruce was now the jealous one). 

And it was all because Bruce had decided to show you how amazing you were. Because he had decided to chase all your insecurities away...

This was a good first step. 

************

But the biggest and most important insecurities your Broosh was able to eradicate from your mind, was the one concerning your writing abilities. 

Things were getting really really serious between you and Bruce (he was more and more thinking about asking you to marry him), and he realized that it was probably time to introduce you to his best friend...Clark Kent. 

And so here you were, on a fucking helicopter, direction : Metropolis. 

You’ve never been to Metropolis. It was quite an interesting city really...Like a cleaner, safer Gotham. Though the gargoyles were replaced by neons and huge flashy adds, the rain by a blue and clear sky, the dark color of every building by glass windows that reflected the sun...Yup, it was like a parallel universe, a Gotham that wasn’t gritty and dark. 

A city for a Superman really. 

And here he was, in front of you (though you promised Bruce not to even make a hint about the fact that you knew he was Superman...that too, you guessed yourself, and you thought it was hilarious that he wrote all those articles, in the daily planet, about himself !). 

You met them at a diner in the outskirt of town, a calm place where no paparazzis would try and snatch pictures of you all. 

You sat down and...immediately, you felt a bit uneasy. 

Why were they both looking at you like that ? With a stupid smile on their face, and a bit of...weird...awe ? What ? 

Was it because they never thought Bruce would settle down ? Yeah, it probably was that...

But of course, it wasn’t. 

Without your knowledge, Bruce had sent one of your novel to Lois Lane, famed journalist and best seller author (she even won a pulitzer price !). 

It was driving your boyfriend crazy to know that you were so full of talent.

He was one of the only person, along with Alfred, that read your stories and he thought they were the most brilliant things in the World ! 

Bruce wasn’t much of a big reader, because he never really had time to do so but...your stuffs ? 

It made him feel like he was a kid again, who was dreaming about adventures and had fantasy about being a hero and such ! 

Your stories made him feel like he was in them, like he was truly part of them, like he was...transported in another world ! The way you wrote, your style...it filled him with so many emotions ! 

You didn’t believe him when he told you, and he wished you had been there when he was reading it (but of course, whenever he was reading one of your work you’d make sure not to be there, in fear of dying of cringe while he’d read something you wrote in front of you) so you could have seen him laugh, cry, be angry etc etc while reading your stories ! 

He wish you could see the effect it had on him, and that you’d believe him when he said he loved them, that you’d believe his excitement when he finished one and ran to you to tell you how great it was ! 

After all, he was a man with the reputation to be quite stoic and serious ! Couldn’t you see how childish and boyish your stories rendered him ? How he almost jumped on his spot talking about all his favorite characters and how that particular twist blew his mind away ? 

Couldn’t you see that your stories turned him into a huge fanboy ?! 

No. No of course you couldn’t see it. You rarely believe him when he was complimenting you...Especially not on your writing. 

Oh it just tore him apart to know that you thought you were a talentless woman ! And so he did something, that maybe he shouldn’t have (he didn’t know how you were going to react)...He decided to send one of your manuscript (his favorite of yours), to Lois Lane, a renown literally critic at that. 

And when he received a call from her, at three in the morning, while he was on patrol, and she started to ramble about how great the plot was and how she love this character and hated that one and blahblahblah could she send it to her publisher already ?! ...Bruce knew he had to arrange a meeting. 

Clark read the book a few days after, and Bruce received the same excited call...The bat totally surprised his friends by being as enthusiastic about it as he was ! It wasn’t often, that you could hear the mighty Batman sound like a little excited child ! 

And here you were, unaware that you had in front of you your second and third biggest fans (the first one was Bruce of course), and wondering why they just couldn’t stop staring at you like that ! 

-It’s so nice to finally meet you ! 

Clark starts, as you all sit down around the diner table. Lois continues : 

-Yes yes ! We couldn’t wait to finally...meet you ! 

You’re a bit weirded out by their enthusiasm, but with a little smile you answer : 

-Yeah same. Bruce told me lots about you two, I was looking forward to finally see you as well. 

Bruce shifts awkwardly next to you and you give him a curious look...that quickly turns into a suspicious one. You narrow your eyes at him and say :

-Ok, what’s going on ? 

Clark and Lois can’t help but be impressed at the inflexion in your voice, at the glare you give Bruce and the way he reacts to you...You’re the first one that seems to intimidate the goddamn Batman ! 

Very fast and almost inaudible, your Broosh says : 

-Imighthavesentthemoneofyourbook. 

But it doesn’t matter that he spoke fast, or that he barely made a sound...you understood enough. Suddenly, a horrified expression spreads across your face and you look at the couple in front of you, genuinely scared. 

-Wh...What ? Ho...How could you Bruce ? I trusted you in...keeping those...for...For you...

You’re actually pretty hurt, that he would do such a thing. Sending one of your book to “strangers” ? Sure they were his friends but...you didn’t know them. 

And Lois was one of your idol. Ever since you were young you loved reading her articles in the Daily Planet (that was also published in Gotham), her writing style was so eloquent and elegant ! And the book she wrote about Superman ? It made you tear up so many times, it was so beautiful ! 

And Bruce knew you admired her ! In fact, you were so nervous about that lunch date ! And here he was, giving her your goddamn shitty book, giving her one of your terrible writing and...

-I’m sorry my love but it just killed me that you thought it was bad. You were never going to believe me, I just had to...To show it to someone else ! 

-It’s not that I don’t believe you Bruce ! It’s just that...well you can’t give me an impartiale opinion, because I’m your girlfriend ! Of course you’re gonna like what I write, or pretend to like it ! 

-Yes well you’re wrong but you know, you won’t believe me anyway. Now if I send it to someone who doesn’t know you ? Who isn’t friend with you ? Then you know you’ll have an honest opinion right ! You read her book reviews in the Daily Planet, you know she always says what she genuinely thinks about a story !

You gasp and hide your face in your hands, shaking it vigorously ! Oh my God he’s right ! She’s a really good book reviewer and never lies ! And now it’s going to be the worst time of your life, your idol telling you how your book sucks and how you should stop writing and...

-I just have one question for you, (Y/N). 

Slowly, tentatively, you tear away fingers by fingers from your face and shyly look at Lois. She smiles at you warmly, and you sit up a bit in your seat (not before giving Bruce a reproachful look though...he sinks a bit in his own seat and avoids your gaze, stunning Clark like...The Hell ? Bruce was shrinking in his seat, embarrassed ? Wow, you must really be something...but that he already knew, after all, he read your book too).  

-Hum...What ? 

You ask in a little scared voice. Lois’ smile widens and she says : 

-The ending totally killed me, please tell me you wrote a second book ? 

Bruce sprungs up in his chair and says : 

-Yes ! Yes it’s suppose to be a trilogy ! She’s almost done with writing the first draft of the second book ! I read it over her shoulder when she writes in bed, it’s even more brilliant than the first one ! 

Your boyfriend’s actual genuine enthusiast surprises you. He...reads over your shoulder when you write in bed ? You haven’t even noticed, to engrossed in your writing. And the way his eyes suddenly shone with excitement...Could it be ? 

Could it be that he actually really likes your writing ? 

All of a sudden, Bruce, Clark and Lois speaks all at the same time eagerly, talking about their theories of what might happen in the next installment of your stupid and terrible book and...Wow. 

Slow down a minute. They...like it ? They actually like it ? 

They speculates about what might happen ? They’re thrilled about it all ? THEY SHIP SOME OF YOUR CHARACTERS TOGETHER !? HELL THEY EVEN GAVE NAME TO SAID SHIPS ?! WHAAAAAAAT ?! 

You listen to them for the next hour, rambling about your story, about how great it is and how amazing your writing style is, how entranced by it they all are and...you start to believe them ? No...impossible ! And yet. 

Yet you cannot hide your idiotic smile, or the way you just want to laugh, or the sudden surges of happiness that attack you. 

They like it. They genuinely like it. No one can be that good of an actor...They...They actually fucking like it ! 

-Yes (Y/N), no joke ! I think it’s amazing ! In fact, I was really excited about this first meeting because I wanted to ask you if you’d allow me to show it to my publisher ? I think they’d love to publish this story of yours ! They really would ! But I know Bruce didn’t even tell you that he’d sent it to us so...Thought I’d ask first of course. I can’t believe you thought it was bad ! 

Lois tells you, and you’re too stunned to react. You hazily listen to Bruce saying : 

-Right ? It’s crazy that she thinks it’s awful right ? Tell her it’s not just me being in love with her talking, please tell her how fucking great she is ! 

It makes Lois and Clark smile, how smitten with you their friend is, and...well, they tell you the truth. 

Yes. You’re writing is great. It made them feel a wide range of things, and left them wanting for more. 

For the entirety of lunch time, you discuss your stories with them, they give you all their honest opinion and...you believe them. Sure, you don’t think you’re the best writer ever and such, like they keep saying but...maybe you’re not so bad ? 

It fills Bruce with happiness, to know that you’re slowly changing your mind about yourself. It fills him with..so many things, to see you smile as your idol, Lois, is telling you in details why she loves your stories (feedbacks are so important for a writer) and to see you laugh at Clark’s comment on why he hates that particular characters of yours (that of course, he’s suppose to hate). 

In that moment, you’re overly grateful that Bruce crossed your path one day. 

Because day after day, hell hours after hours, he makes you feel like you’re worth something. He makes you feel like you’re...Someone important. 

Talented. Beautiful. Intelligent. Sexy. Smart. Witty. 

Like you’re someone who’s special. Genuinely and utterly special. 

Bruce Wayne was curing, one by one, all of those insecurities that plagued your life. All of those insecurities that slowly ate you from inside, and made you believe that you were never worthy enough. 

Those insecurities that made you date only toxic people who made you feel like you were less than nothing. Those insecurities that stopped you from sending any of your novels to a publisher. Those insecurities that made you stare at the mirror every morning, thinking you were the ugliest of them all. 

All of your insecurities, he was fiercely chasing them away. 

Because to Bruce Wayne, you were the most special woman in the World, the most unique and talented one, and he’d be damn if he didn’t try to show you how amazing you were. 

Slowly, but surely, you started to believe him. 

Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t a talentless worthless human being. 

Maybe, just maybe, you deserved all those good things happening to you, you deserved to be with a man like Bruce Wayne...You deserved all those praised about your writing. 

Maybe. Just Maybe. 

______________________________

Yeah. So...There’s that. As usual it got out of hand and ended up being way too fucking long. I didn’t proof read (as usual as well) and I feel like I might erase it. I know I often say that but...eh it’s too fucking long and cringy. SO MUCH CRINNNNNNNGE. That’s what I get for writing such a self-indulgent fic. 

Anyway, feedbacks are always welcome (super important once again), hope you liked it and thank you for reading. 

#Bruce Wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne imagine #Batman x reader #Batman imagine #Bruce Wayne reader insert #Batman Reader insert #Batfam #Batfamily #Batmom #Bruce Wayne #Batfam x Reader #Batfamily x Reader #Batfam imagine #Batfamily imagine #Batmom imagine #Bruce Wayne x Batmom #ex BatCat #BatCat #Lois Lane #Clark Kent #Clois #Lois Lane x Clark Kent #Bruce Wayne Fanfiction #Batman fanfiction #Clark Kent Fanfiction #Catwoman fanfiction #Clark Kent imagine

[somuchanemoia]

15 Positive Things...

I don’t know what I’m gonna do with this post yet but I figured I might as well write it while I can. Maybe it’ll help me or maybe someone else??? I don’t know but for now, this is gonna be what it shall be (que sera sera, right?)

I personally really struggle with depression and and anxiety, like a lot of people. I am in no way special or unique that way. Today has been a rough day on the front for me though nothing really particular set it off. It just kind of happened. My head has been very loud today but in some crazy pursuit of some inner peace, I figured maybe I’d try to list things that I like, positive things to look forward to, and things that help me feel grounded.

Like I said, if anything, this is more for me than it is for anyone else but maybe it’ll be a good list for y’all as well.

The smell of coffee in the morning is heavenly. Earthy and rich, it fills me with thoughts of home and comfort.

No matter what kind of day I’m having, I know there will always be a bed to come home too with lots of pillows and many blankets.

My dogs will always, mostly, be excited to see me. I can be the most crappy person in the world and my girls will come running to me like “hey dad?! What’s for dinner??” Or “hey daddio, will you looooovvvveee meeee even though I’m gonna move away from yo I everytime you try to touch meeeee”

Sunshine is warm and feels good when you sit out in it. It can lull you to sleep.

Crocs. I know, I know. What kind of savage wears fucking ice blue crocs?? This guy, thank you very much. I enjoy giant feet condoms as much as the next person.

I can go to ASL classes Monday through Thursday for an hour and be around other awkward people. Best part is, you don’t sound like a total moron in sign because all of us are learning and have to go slow.

Pomegranates are bomb...in any form of fashion. From juice to tea to shampoo, it’s beautiful and amazing and fruity.

Big hoodies. I’m a tall person, but I feel tiny with sweater paws.

Sunflowers. My neighborhood is filled with people growing sunflowers and while I have the green thumb similar to that of a Grim Reaper, I can still enjoy other people’s sunflowers. Lols, if you see a strange human standing across the street and just staring at your house, it’s probably just me enjoying your flowers because I can’t grow any myself.

Bottle caps. I don’t know who else did this, but when I was a kid, I used to poor sprite into the cap and toss it back like it was a shot. Sometimes it brings you back to the good old days when you poor a little bit of Coke into the cap and toss it back. At least it’ll give you the sense of feeling like your slowly getting drunk when you aren’t.

There will always be new content coming out. There will be another season, a new movie, another show, a new fic, a new art piece from that one artist that only posts once every eight months.

There’s some chance that you could become Batman. Bruce Wayne didn’t become Batman until he was 30. If he can have a dramatic goth phase, I can have an Avril Lavigne before 2010 phase.

Mickey and Minnie Mouse are dating in all the Disney cartoons but are married in their personal life. How the frick Mickey and Minnie are living the Lucielle Ball and Ricky Ricardo life, I dunno but Disney confirmed it. It’s a lovely thought that at least one fictional cartoon couple out there enjoying married life as they grow old together and rule over their empire. Honestly, goals.

Music is beautiful. Somehow I can fit my gay music taste to fit whatever I’m feeling. Sad and need of a good cry in the rain?? Wake Me Up When September Ends. Happy and need to dance?? Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Feeling Nostalgic?? Seasons of Love. I mean, I’m covered for any emotion.

Harry Potter once told Severus Snape “There is no need for you to call me Sir, Professor” and then walked away like the Sass Master he is.

#sam speakeths #positivity #sometimes you gotta look at the little things to cheer yourself up

[crazyfreckledginger]

DC x Reader - “Two Different People” [Part 1]

The Batboys and the Outlaws have a strange encounter with people that can only be described as being from a different universe.

This fic includes Nightwing (Dick Grayson), Red Hood (Jason Todd), Red Robin (Tim Drake), Robin (Damian Wayne), Batman (Bruce Wayne) and Quicksilver (Pietro Maximoff).

This is a DC/Marvel Crossover, if you don’t follow Marvel, don’t worry, I will make so that you will not have to know any background information to understand this fic. 

A/N: (F/S) means favorite singer. The reader has telekinesis powers (move objects with her mind), for Marvel readers, she had Scarlet Witch Powers and her adoptive older brother is Pietro Maximoff (yes I’m obsessed deal with it haters).

Warning: Implied smut, harassment

3rd Person PoV

Gotham was engulfed in an eerie atmosphere. Civilians had an unnatural gut feeling that something was about to happen. The Caped Cruisader and his sidekicks decided to investigate and keep an eye on every street in Gotham. Robin was in charge of the East side of Gotham, Red Robin of the West side, Red Hood if the South side, Nightwing of the North Side and Batman of the city center.  

Very few people were out, mostly trying to get home. Half of the gangs that created a large percent of the crime rates had completely disappeared, unwanting to get involve in whatever was going to happen. But some still hung around in alleys, too stupid to care about the gravity of the situation. One woman though, was either oblivious or feeling that danger could not stop her from living her life. She walked confidently down the roads, resisting the cold that was attempting to penetrate her coat. Her (H/L) (H/C) hair bounced on her shoulders with every step she took. Her hands were stuffed into her coat pockets, her bag, somehow, hanging securely on her shoulder. Her shoes tapped against the concrete pavement, making a nearly inaudible thump. The sound was masked by her relaxing music pulsating in her earphones. Faint water vapour floated in front of her every time she let out a breath, but quickly vanished as her slightly pink cheeks made contact with it. She lived in the East side of town, in one of the less dangerous neighborhoods of Gotham. unbeknownst to her, a gang had decided to hang out in that area. She maintained her pace as she spotted them, increasing the volume of her music to dismiss anything obscene that might come out of their mouths, all whilst ignoring their gaze. Her improvised attempt at being discreet was a poor one as one of the men stopped her in her path. His friends surrounding her. She successfully kept her confident composure as he reached out and took her earphones out of her ears, not gaining any agressive reactions from her, as she feared that she might have something more violent in return. He brought one of the earphones to his ear and smiled upon hearing the music.

“(F/S) eh? What an appropriate singer to be listening to on a time like this!” He chuckled. Pushing the earphones back to her.

Unsuspected by anyone, the youngest vigilante was silently watching the woman, curious about how composed she was, on the top of the nearest building, after warning his fellow vigilante mates about what was happening. A stubborn anti hero decided to show up, when Robin first annonced his statement, bored out of his skull, wanting to get a bit of action.

She tried to walk past him but the man stood in front of her again.

“Look, I don’t want you guys to ruin my already shitty day, so if you would please move out of my way, that would be great!” She stated politely. The men chuckled sinisterly.

By now, both Nightwing, Red Robin and Batman had joined the more reckless vigilantes on the rooftop.

Your PoV

“How about you give us a little bit of fun and we’ll let you go!” He proposed.

“Nah, you don’t deserve my time!” I replied non-chalantly. His eyes grew angry in a matter of seconds and he grabbed my shoulder in a painful grasp. His other arm started trailing down my hip to my ass. Luckily, he grabbed my free arm. I slid my bag to the floor and punched him in the nose before he could even get a piece of me. He groaned as he tried to maintain his balance a few feet away from me, holding his now-bloody nose. The other men strated marching towads me. I slid my bag across the pavement to have more space and kicked the guy that was the closest to me.

“You bitch!” He yelled as he fell to the floor, holding his bruising jaw. I kicked another one between his legs, making him groan and pushed him onto another one. I sucker punched the last one. He felt to the ground. They all groaned as I went to get my bag off the pavement.

“Have a nice recovery fellas!” I said sarcastically.

3rd Person PoV

“Damn, that was badass!” Jason whispered. Nightwing nudged him but silently thought the same thing.

“Stay focused!” Batman said, getting up from his crouched position.

“We’re not needed here, spread out.” As soon as he said that, three older versions of the Batmobile blocked the lady’s way.

Your PoV

As soon as I picked up my bag, screenching tires averted my attention from my it. A bald guy with a mask jumped out of the closest car. It was the, unfortunatly not too unfamiliar villian that terrorised Gotham a few years ago.

“Follow me and you won’t be harmed!” Bane stood intimidately in front of me. I swallowed hard as I froze. His men raised their guns but he lifted his hand in the air to keep them from firing.

“And if I don’t?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. He chuckled. 

“Then we’ll take you by force!”

“Not in this lifetime you won’t!” I retorted, getting in a fighting position.

“Do not overestimate yourself!” He warned, walking closer and having his men ready to fight.

“Well don’t underestimate me!” I said, gritting my teeth.

“Well you’re all alone, I don’t see how you could take all of us with your special ablilities.” He mocked.

“Clearly you haven’t seen me in action, and who ever said I was alone?” I smirked. A dash of blue knocked three of Bane’s men out, making all of them confused, using this timing, I projected three men towards the cars, knocking them out cold. Bane walked towards me, wanting to kidnap me. I kicked him in the legs, making him fall to the ground. I jumped over him and punched one of his men. 

3rd Person PoV

A sniper assigned by Bane was installing himself on a nearby building. His orders being to shoot the girl if it was necessary, which it was. Bane’s men fell one by one into unconsciousness as he was nearly ready. He had a clear view of his target and is ready to shoot. Unfortunatly the Bats that had been studying the scene saw the sniper to late. A certain speedster, however, didn’t. He raced by him at an astonishing speed, throwing him into the air, making him hit the wall. Both of them had taken everyone out. She took a deep breath as she slowly regained her stamina. The Bats continued on studying her, until, in a matter of seconds, they were all lauched against the wall of the alley the fight had started in.

Your PoV

Loud thumps averted my attention from the now-knocked out men. I turned around and saw the Batfamily in a slightly dizzy state, my brother smirking at Red Hood.

He said, rucshing to my side. The vigilantes slowly got up and inspected us.

“Who are you?” Batman asked.

“Why do you want to know?” Pietro glared.

“Then what are you?” He asked, averting my brother’s question.

“Mutants.” I stated, looking away from them. My brother saw my action and placed an arm around my shoulder, his body relaxing my muscles.

“We can help you!” Batman said.

“We don’t need your help!” Pietro sneered. He picked me up and raced us away from them.

3rd Person PoV

“Find them!” Batman ordered.

—————————————–

There will be a part 2

Comments are truly appreciated! 

 Tagging: @lumifuer  @ijustwantmyshipstobehappy  

#batboys x reader #batboys #batboys imagine #batfam #batfam x reader #batfamily #batfamily x reader #batfamily imagine #batfam imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #nightwing #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood #tim drake #tim drake x reader #red robin #red robin x reader #robin #robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader

[stripesthesupervillain]

The Mad Hatter’s Guide to Happiness: Chapter 11

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Summary:  Batman takes an interest in the two villains' week out, deciding to get personally involved. Scarecrow and Mad Hatter find a place to stay after the day's events.

Don’t want to read this on Tumblr? Read it here! (I’ll add links to more chapters tomorrow.)

“As of now, police are unable to locate the two criminals, Jervis Tetch and Jonathan Crane, better known by their criminal personas as the Mad Hatter and the Scarecrow.”

Bruce Wayne was drawn away from his phone call upon hearing the two familiar names on the television. He raised a brow, initially confused as he watched the news report., he leaned back on his chair, paying more attention to the woman presenting herself on TV rather than his friend on the other end of the line.

“With a count of twenty-one confirmed kills by the pair, including twenty SWAT and the chief of police, Walter Paloozi, the town now lives in fear every waking hour of the night. No one knows why they’ve come to the small town, nor why they have decided to join forces, but one thing is for sure: they won’t slow down if they aren’t stopped.”

“Hey, Lucius, I'm sorry, but something just came up. Yeah, trouble. We'll talk about the device later. I’m gonna have to call you back,” Bruce sighed, quickly hanging up the phone and rising from his chair. “Alfred, turn up the volume.”

“We’ve had several reports that the kill count is higher than originally expected, with two new bodies having appeared so far fitting Tetch’s MO. Without the town's personal Batman to stop them, and the police force showing to have been a poor match for them, it seems that anything can happen at this point, and we can only pray for their safety as they are forced to adapt to Gotham's special breed of crime. Stay tuned for more as the story develops.”

The two stared at the TV as they quickly flashed images of the criminals, both in costume and out of costume. “It seems that I may have to work out of state, Alfred,” Bruce sighed, turning off the television and heading to the bookcase that hid his biggest secret. Alfred followed after him dutifully, standing by as they waited for the bookcase to shift out of the way to reveal the entrance to the Batcave. “Usually I wouldn’t suggest having other states outsource your services, Master Bruce,” Alfred sighed, “as you are only one man. However, this seems to be a different matter altogether, so I suppose there's no point in trying to convince you, is there?” Bruce gave a curt nod as he trotted down the stairs, the floodlights to the cave activating to shine down on the complex series of computers and vehicles he used for his secret hobbies. “Usually I would let them solve their own problems, Alfred, but this is Scarecrow and Mad Hatter we’re talking about. While Tetch's predictability is limited to the Lewis Carrol books, he's still a deranged schizophrenic and still a threat, and Crane is a sadist with enough fear gas to bomb an entire country. I need to go to Georgia and stop them before they can hurt any more people.”

“Master Bruce, these two are not your responsibility,” Alfred reasoned, following at a steady pace as Bruce got onto the batcomputer to get the coordinates for the last known location of the masked men. “Maybe not,” he replied, “but I am responsible for helping to protect this city, and I let these Crane and Tetch slip under the radar. I didn’t even realize they were gone until literally three minutes ago, Alfred, and now another town is paying for this mistake,” he sighed, going over to begin putting on his infamous batsuit. Alfred didn’t reply, merely watching from afar as he occasionally checked the computer for updates. Wayne had just put on the chest plate and had begun to fit on his boots when he stopped, considering a thought. “They killed over twenty people, Alfred,” he murmured, clutching his mask in his left hand in simmering anger. “If there is a chance I can stop them before anyone else just to save a few more lives, I’m more than willing to go any distance.”  

Once his mask was on and he was fully suited up, he moved over to the computer, collecting any information that he would need. “I’m going to need to use the batmobile,” he told his butler, typing into the computer in order to see which roads he would need to use to get there the fastest. “I’ll have to go at full speed if I want to get there quickly. There’s no time to plan anything else.”

“What do you expect to do once you get there?” Alfred questioned, watching him as he began to head towards the batmobile. “Find them. I’ll have to set up a few crime scenes and check for anything they’ve left behind, and once I get ahold of them, I'm bringing them back to Gotham,” Batman informed him. “I know them, Alfred. Crane isn’t one to just run away from his problems, and Tetch loves Gotham too much to move away.”

“Not a common interest between Englishmen, I can assure you,” Alfred commented.

“They came there for a reason, most likely of Crane’s own interest. From what the computer says, Tetch has no connection with Georgia, much less even stepped foot in it. Crane must be after something. Something important, I’m sure. I’ll make sure he won’t get it. Check the computer for any linking factors between Crane and the town. Make sure you hit all bases, including profession and personal life. Oh, and make sure Robin keeps the city safe while I’m gone.”

“Understood, Master Bruce,” Alfred nodded as Bruce hopped into the armored vehicle. “Stay safe, sir. You’ve stopped several villains at once before, but there’s always a risk.”

“I’ll be home before next week, I can assure you,” Batman said confidently, lowering the roof of the batmobile and revving up the engine. It was going to be a long couple of days, he was sure of that. Even as he drove off, he couldn’t help but wonder why these two criminals would travel such a far distance to wreak havoc.

Little did he know, someone else was wondering the same thing, and they were determined to figure out this little enigma.

The Mad Hatter and Scarecrow were more than overjoyed by the time they broke through the line of trees, their run slowing to a steady walk. Breathing heavy, Scarecrow was still laughing lightly to himself, still a bit animated after the day’s events. Bits of blood was still visible on his costume, but neither of them really seemed to care. Jonathan would care when he would have to wash the damn thing, but that's for another time.  

“Oh, I honestly wish I could have recorded all of that,” Scarecrow chuckled, one hand on his scythe and the other on the duffle bag slung around his shoulder. The two were still in costume, of course, attempting to find a good point to where they were safe to change. “You’ve said that at least three times,” Mad Hatter grinned, looking up at him. “I have to say, I’ve never seen you look so spirited about anything before.”

“I enjoy a good adrenaline rush every now and again,” Scarecrow murmured, calming down as he looked over the parking lot they had come across, sparsely populated by only a few cars. “It beats sitting in an office and listening to the problems of everyone else. Now, which one should we pick?” They surveyed the area. While it was still the black of night, street lights were able to illuminate the area and give them a clear picture of where they were heading.

“Oh, I like the red one,” Hatter pointed out, gesturing to a small red car that would perfectly seat the two of them. It looked cheap and rather plain and unnoticeable, which was perfect for them. “The red one it is,” Scarecrow declared, beginning their trek through the lot. “So how many of those cards do you have left?”

“Quite a few,” Hatter replied, not bothering to check his bag. “I always bring a chess set’s worth.” They stopped at the car, where he watched Scarecrow skillfully break in and begin to fiddle with the wires. “So how much toxin would you say you have left?”

“A few canisters,” the taller villain replied, grunting as the wires didn’t seem to be connecting. “So I’d say enough to break at least a hundred minds. In case that fails, I still have a scythe and an axe, whereas you don’t have a weapon of any kind.”

“Well, I usually I have other people do my bidding who usually have weapons,” Hatter huffed, watching him move the wires in the obviously wrong places. “Er, Hare, I don’t believe-“

“I know what I’m doing,” Scarecrow spat, before cursing when one of the wires gave him a little shock, although it wasn’t felt through the gloves. Hatter rolled his eyes, grabbed the other’s arm before he could protest, and ducked under the steering wheel. Within seconds, the car came to life. When he came back up, he dusted his dinner gloves on his coat. “I suggest you leave the technology to me. Hares don’t climb trees and haberdashers don’t live in burrows. It’s just not practical,” he chuckled, going and getting into the driver’s seat. “Says the one in Wonderland,” Scarecrow scoffed, getting into the passenger seat. Normally he wouldn’t let Hatter drive the car, as it was akin to trusting him with his very life, but he decided to let him have it this time. With a sigh, he pulled off his hat and mask as they began to pull off, revealing unusually unkempt red hair and a man with a stupid grin on his face, which slowly faded with time.

“Ah, Wonderland seems to be more exciting than usual, doesn’t it?” Hatter sighed, adjusting his hat. Jonathan knew he wasn’t going to take that thing off until he was asleep and didn’t bother to tell him off. “It sure does,” he muttered, now feeling more worn out. “Let’s just find a place to stay for the night and get out once daylight hits. I don’t want to spend another second here.”

“How about one of the neighborhood houses?” Jervis suggested, looking at an intersection that led to a cluster of houses. “That’s risky,” Jonathan replied, shaking his head. “We don’t want to wake any neighbors. They’re probably already high strung as it is.”

“Well you lived here, didn’t you?” Tetch said, looking over at him. “Where do you suggest we stay, then?” Jonathan had to think about this for a good few seconds, going through his terrible memories for any place they could stay that the police wouldn’t check out.

“On the next intersection, turn left and keep driving until you hit Duley Road,” he instructed. “There’s a small plaza that used to be filled with vacant shops. With any luck, a few of them may still be empty.”

Jervis nodded, beginning to follow as instructed as he began to rest against the car seat. He felt more tired than usual, which was understandable. Today was undoubtedly the third most eventful day of his life. He nearly died several times, so it was at least in the top five. Today was a good day, he’d say.

The car was filled with silence, with Jonathan now quieted and recounting the day’s events with a small smile. Jervis couldn’t help but become curious about some words shared several minutes earlier.

“Hey Hare,” he hummed, only receiving a grunt in response as a sign that he had his attention. “Do you really prefer this life over the life you could have had?”  

Jonathan paused, looking over at him silently. Tetch took this as a sign to keep going. “It’s the question we all ask ourselves, isn’t it? If we could go back in time and stop ourselves from become this, would we?” He glanced over at the unamused Crane, who only let out a sigh after a minute and shook his head. “Tetch,” Jonathan sighed, “as much as I appreciate the conversation and attempts to keep away the silence, I really can’t bear any more questions for today. Save it for tomorrow.” Jervis let out a small titter of amusement, but nodded in understanding. If Jonathan was sick of questions and answers, it must have been a really long day for him. He just hummed a tune to himself and kept driving.

They soon came to the plaza his companion had mentioned, looking around the dimly lit area in search of anyone. Besides one lone car, there was really no one there. Sure enough, a few of the stores were empty, the signs torn down and the windows covered to show there was no longer any occupants.  

It only took a few seconds and the door was soon opened, thanks to Catwoman’s helpful lessons. They trudged in with their things, locked the door, and took a look around. Jervis noticed the wallpaper still clinging to the interior was a light green with the occasional flower print. There was also an area where things were clearly meant to be on display, with lights and nozzles for misting water hanging above each display.

“I believe this place may have been for floristry, Hare. Oh, you know how I enjoy flowers,” Jervis mused, before frowning. “Except daisies. Those are always irritating to listen to.” Jonathan emerged from another room, now in his more citizen-type clothing, looking rather normal except for the unkempt hair. “It doesn’t matter what this place is for,”  he scoffed, peering out the small cracks visible between the coverings of the windows. He could already see the red streaks of dawn starting to make their way towards the center of the black sky. “What matters is that we get some rest. News travels fast, Jervis. I’d rather not take the chance of Batman taking interest. Get some sleep.”  

Tetch gave a curt nod, but gave a quick knowing smile to the doctor. “No pills, right?” he chuckled, watching as Crane turned to give him a small glare. He just shrugged it off. He soon found a good place to take a rest, before setting his hat to the side and nearly passing out then and there, not bothering to change out of his dirtied costume. Jonathan did the same, sitting nearby as he finally began to relax for the first time today. Well, the first time that didn’t involve being drugged. That time didn’t count. He let out a soft yawn, noticing it was becoming even brighter outside. He just grumbled in annoyance, turning away from the windows and closing his eyes.

Once they woke up, they would immediately head straight back to Gotham and nowhere else. He was already sick and tired of this town after just two days of being back. No one would stop them, and soon he would be back to terrorizing the people of Gotham. Those thoughts gave him some comforts as he began to rest up and drift off to sleep.

However, he would have to stay up a bit more, as soon enough, the phone rang.

Jervis audibly groaned in vexation, covering his ears. Jonathan just sighed and ignored the ringing until it finally stopped. Whoever it was could wait a few hours.  

Of course, when the phone rang again, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep without answering it. Even if he wasn’t called again, just not knowing who it was would be enough to keep him up a good hour or so. He angrily snatched up the phone, noticing Jervis sit up with an expression of both curiosity and slight annoyance. Jonathan recognized the caller ID as being from his base back in Gotham. It was Rockwell, most likely. Anyone else wouldn’t be a good sign. He let out an annoyed huff and answered the phone.

“Yes?” he greeted, going into an impatient stance as he leaned against a counter. “Whatever it is, it must be pretty damn important, Rockwell.” He could hear his henchman clear his throat in a nervous fashion. Something else could also be heard in the background, but he couldn’t identify it. It almost sounded like a voice.

“Well, Mister Scarecrow, sir,” Rockwell began, “I caught this guy sneaking around the base. Messing with all your chemicals and notes and stuff before I caught him. You know, the things you told me never to touch unless I want to end up in an Asylum?”

Jonathan furrowed his brow in initial confusion, before quickly becoming angry once again. “An intruder? Messing with my things? Well tell me you at least killed the imbecile.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Rockwell replied. “I was going to, but he told me to cal you specifically. Told me I would regret it if I killed him. Called me a bunch of things, too.”  

At this point, Crane was simply puzzled at the situation. “Who gives a damn who he is?” he scoffed. “What sort of brainless halfwit would even think to intrude upon my lair? If he was caught by you, he obviously can’t be of much importance. I won’t be shedding any tears, trust me on-“

That’s when he heard it. Whatever voice that was in the background soon became loud and clear.

“HALF-WIT? I’ll have you know that I was able to find both your base and figure out the access code in a mere hour, not an easy task for a mere simpleton. If it’s anyone lacking the brains of the bunch, it’s you for only hiring a single guard to protect the supplies that are integral to your potato sack visaged alter-ego!”

Jonathan had to pull the phone back in order to not damage his ear drums. He blinked in surprise, looking over at Jervis, who had heard the yelling man on the other end. Both recognized that voice clear as day, but both seemed unable to make sense of it.

“Is that…?” Tetch murmured slowly.

“It is…” Crane replied.

They looked at each other and back down at the phone. They practically said it at the same time, equally as confused.

“Nygma?”

#MHGH #Batman #Alfred Pennyworth #Jervis Tetch #Mad Hatter #Jonathan Crane #Scarecrow #Edward Nygma #Riddler

[pinkrabbitpro]

Chasing Fog -- Chapter Fifteen -- Alex has an adventure and glimpses a new player in the game, while Cat and Kara grow closer and come to an understanding.

read it on AO3

FFNet to come when I can get it up

Chapter Fifteen

Nothing.

Alex was ready to kill someone just to let off steam and her arm was aching so badly thought she might just throw up while the grit and stink of the day left her feeling grimy to the core.

All for nothing.

Visiting various sites of known attacks and suspicious activity had yielded no new evidence. As far as she could tell the victims and targets were as randomly chosen as her computer studies had suggested.

Meanwhile, even the most dialed in of her snitches had looked at her like she’d lost it when she asked if Catwoman was putting together a gang. They’d had a variety of responses, from not knowing who the thief was to assuming she was dead. None of them had heard anything about her in Gotham, though one thought she’d been active in Europe during the last decade. None of it made sense. Alex knew what she’d seen, and what the MO on several minor burglaries suggested. Catwoman was in town. For no one to have heard from her didn’t make sense, leaving Alex to doubt her sanity just a little.

She tightened her hand into a fist, the runners of pain that chased up and down her arm oddly comforting. No dead fantasy figure had broken her arm or trapped her in a cage. No, that was a real woman, one Alex had no doubt was out there waiting to strike.

Straightening her shoulders, she took off with long strides, the nightvision on her motorcycle helmet revealing the darkened corners in the abandoned building where she found herself. This was old Eastsiders’ turf, but by the looks of the place, nobody  had been back in at least a year. A head-up display reflected a steady stream of numbers and data on the upper left corner of her visor, giving her a sense of her environment beyond the grit and stink that clung to every surface.

She was deep in when the numbers warned her she wasn’t alone. One figure coming in from her rear left, moving slowly, but directly. EMF monitors showed no electronic frequencies. No nightvision.

Bad move.

The head-up registered the moment he started to accelerate. She pivoted and stepped back, sinking into what, for him, were undoubtedly deep shadows. She saw him clearly as he stepped forward, albeit in shades of nightvision grey; not as tall as she was and gawky thin, with narrow shoulders and a bit of stringy muscle. Blind, he lunged where he probably thought she still stood only to stumble awkwardly when he didn’t meet the expected resistance. Off balance, but still on his feet, short, but well kept dreads swinging with his movement. They’d make a decent handhold if she needed it, but for the moment, she kept her distance, flicking out a baton to slap it across his back and send him sprawling.

He was no experienced criminal. Startled, he scrambled as he hit the floor, trying to pop back to his feet, but only slipping in the deep dust so that he wound up on his ass. Another quick slap with the baton drew a yelp of pain and made him sit hard. “Stay down,” she growled, her voice a threatening rasp.

He froze, giving her a good enough look to confirm he was just a kid, fifteen or sixteen at the most.

But a kid with a baseball bat, she realized as she made out the familiar silhouette clutched in his right hand. She kicked it away and heard it rattle across the cement. “Don’t even think about it,” she ground out when he tensed and seemed ready to jump after his weapon. Beating up kids wasn’t her style, but he was big enough to be dangerous and she wasn’t going to let him get his hands on a weapon. “What the hell do you think you’re doing IN here?”

He crab scuttled backwards on his elbows, his eyes wide and scared, though he tried for a pugnacious chin thrust and a glare. He failed miserably. “Protecting my neighborhood from people like you,” he shot back.

Alex cocked her head to one side. “Protecting it?” she demanded, her voice thick with doubt, then added, “Explain.”

“I don’t tell Eastsider slimeballs shit,” he snarled.

Alex sighed very softly as she reminded herself he wasn’t seeing Batgirl, just an outsider in motorcycle gear, so the distrust was logical. Still, being in a place like this and attacking strangers, he wasn’t selling Girl Scout cookies. “Let me guess,” she growled impatiently, “Easties are scum, but Southies are heroes of the poor and downtrod—”

“Banger scum,” the boy snapped and scrambled back another foot or two. “So whichever you are, take your fuckin’ chems and shove ‘em. You got no biz here!”

That pulled Alex up short. “Explain,” she repeated. Neighborhood and gang politics meant the kids usually proclaimed their affiliations proudly. For him not to do so was unusual, just like the accusation about drugs—chems—another thing they usually claimed proudly. She’d dealt with plenty of them over the last few years, and they often bragged about their ‘business’ and how many kilos they dealt per year with as much pride as any Fortune 500 CEO.

“Go to hell.”

She sighed again, just barely resisting the urge to lose her temper. She’d already had a shitty day and he wasn’t helping any. “Kid, I’m no banger, I’m a cape,” she said, using the common street slang for superheroes. Her tone was intended to make it a threat if he was gang affiliated and a promise of hope if he was just a civvie.

Instead of any expected response, he snorted disdainfully. “Which makes you worse,” he sneered. “At least most bangers don’t know any better.” He flashed another quick look at his bat.

“Don’t even think it,” Alex growled in her most threatening voice. “Look, kid, I just want to know if you’ve seen anything unusual lately.”  This was the kind of neighborhood where poverty and desperation would make it all too easy for a thief like Catwoman to recruit an army if she wanted.

He snorted again. “Typical cape.” The boy scuttled back a few more inches, his eyes reflecting a level of loathing that caught Alex by surprise. “Come down here giving orders and threatening the people trying to make this place better, but when we need you, you’re nowhere to be seen.”

“Kid, I’m trying to protect the people. In case you haven’t noticed, there are some guys running around hurting them. The Highway Hitmen?”

“Right,” he scoffed. “Only it’s been going on for years and we didn’t see you. You only care now that it’s rich people in  Lexuses getting hurt. When it‘s just street rats, you don’t give a crap.”

Alex made a soft, frustrated sound, offended at the accusation, but also feeling defensive. She hadn’t spent as much time in places like this as she probably should have, but she’d been learning and Bruce had steered her away from areas he deemed too dangerous on her own.  “What are you talking about?” she demanded, still using that low, threatening tone.

“This ain’t nothin’ new.” He ran his gaze up and down over her, expression twisted into a look of disdain. “You’re batcrap, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?” Surprise knocked Alex back a half step and stole the air from her lungs. She’d never heard her family referred to so disrespectfully.

“Yeah,” he jeered. “All in black, tough tone, intimidation tactics, never talk to anybody like they might just be a real human being...that’s pure batcrapper.” He thrust his chin forward. “You gonna burn us down next?”

Behind the mask, Alex’s lips pulled back from clenched teeth in a soft snarl. “Batman never did that.”

“Yeah, right.” The kid shook his head. “The news may’ve covered it up, but everybody saw, and his buddy, Bruce Wayne, payin’ people off don’t change that.”

Alex’s hand tightened into a fist. “Nobody got paid off—”

“What do you call all those freebies Wayne handed to the people his Batcrap buddy burned outa their homes?” He snickered. “Rich dudes like that don’t just give money away to be nice. There’s always something in it for them.” Another snorting laugh escaped his lips. “Besides, he probably gets twice his investment back on the down low—”

“No.” Alex surged forward a half step. Bruce had been genuinely trying to right a wrong even if he’d been as much the victim as those burned out of their homes. “He’s trying to rebuild the city—”

“Yeah, sure, the part the BatCrap burned down...which Wayne picked up for a song.

The muscles in her jaw cramping with clenched fury, Alex heard her soft growl, “That was Joker—”

“Yeah, it’s always somebody else’s fault with you capes.” He jerked his chin toward her. “I mean, here you are, you could be doing something to help stop Easties from moving back in and using this place as a drop for their mules, but all you’re doing is hassling me and worrying about some geezer with a good insurance plan and a few bruises. You don’t give a shit about the kids who’ll be overdosing on bad chems.”

Alex froze, not liking his version of truth at all. “Then tell me,” she hissed. “I can’t help if if I don’t know what’s going on.”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

“I mean it,” Alex said firmly. “You think I run around like this for my health?”

“Nah, I think you do it cos you’re mental, just like the rest of ‘em,” he shot back instantly.

Barely resisting the urge to throw out a few insults of her own, Alex straightened her shoulders. “You want help or you just wanna whine?” she demanded. “Because if it’s help, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

He peered at her for a long moment until finally he shrugged, silently accepting the gauntlet she’d thrown down. “All right.” His expression was still angry and bitter, making his answer feel more like he was issuing a challenge of his rather than asking for help. “Easties stashed their chems here for years. Cops and capes both knew and didn’t do shit. Hell, the Batcrap left ‘em alone in trade for info on Cobblepot’s boys... so we finally drove ‘em out on our own. Burned their shit, beat their delivery boys, and busted up their cars when they came down here until they backed off. Only thing capes or cops did was bust our asses for it. See, you punks don’t like it so much when regular folks actually take of themselves. So we had a few years of peace, but now Easties are moving back and they’re taking kids, probably using ‘em as runners or mules or whatever...and cops and capes still ain’t doing shit.”

Alex wanted to accuse him of lying, but every instinct said he was telling the truth. “Batman wouldn’t—”

“There’s a reason we call him Batcrap down here,” the kid sneered before Alex could finish. “Though maybe you think we should be grateful at least he didn’t try to burn us out like he did the Bowery Brats—”

“I told you—”

“And I told you,” he shot back, his voice every bit as hard as hers.

Impasse.

He was just a scared kid, Alex reminded herself, whose entire knowledge base was probably based on street gossip and Batman had taken on plenty of bangers who probably gloried in dirtying his name. “Look, kid,” she said after taking a moment to get her temper back under control. “You’re right that we don’t do enough. Cops and people like me do our best, but places like this, they don’t get the help they ought to.”

“If this is your best, it sucks,” he accused. “You should probably go into some other line of work.”

Alex landed on her temper with both feet and ground out, “But you’re completely wrong if you think we don’t try. Batman did everything he could for neighborhoods like this.”

The kid snorted, a mocking look on his face as he asked, “He raise you on Kool-Aid?”

“Cute.” The kid was trying to piss her off. Probably thought it would make her screw up, but it only made her more determined to watch him like a hawk. She drew in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She doubted he knew much, but maybe she could figure out some ways to help with the local problems and change a few minds.“Look, kid, I’m trying to...” She caught a tiny flick of movement out of the corner of one eye and started to check the head-up when he suddenly exploded into motion.

The kid was fast, and she reacted on instinct, lunging forward.

It was a mistake.

Because a bright red target burst onto the head-up, coming in fast from behind and before she could do much more than register it was there, something slammed into her ankles and swept her feet out from under her.

Alex went down hard, not injured—the suit’s armor had protected her from any major damage—but she was definitely hurting. Also seriously pissed. Ignoring the pain in her arm, she started to push up on her hands, but her attacker stepped across her from behind and rammed a hard hand into the space between her shoulderblades with a hissed command.

“Stay down.” A woman’s voice, low and determined.

Growling a curse, Alex tried for a grab over her shoulder, but her attacker was already moving past her, her voice louder this time as she snapped at the kid.

“MOVE!”

“Goddammit.” Alex pushed to her knees in time to see a black clad, shapely ass from behind as the newcomer hauled the kid to his feet and shoved him ahead of her.

He spun as he moved, fist pumping the air triumphantly as he laughed at her. “Don’t need you, Batcrapper! We got La Gata!”

The Cat? “GET BACK HERE!” Alex roared, scrambling desperately for her feet. The newcomer glanced back, giving Alex a brief glimpse of a black hood and goggles. “Bitch,” she hissed as one foot skidded in the thick dust to send her knee crashing into the floor.

“Dammit, move,” her attacker hissed, shoving the exultant teen toward the exit, but he darted sideways, too gleeful to be on the winning side to think clearly.

“Get outa our home, Batcrapper!” He retrieved his bat just as Alex hit her feet and grabbed a for a small flash bang tucked inside her jacket. It was a very small charge, but it would incapacitate anyone within several feet for long enough to get cuffs on.

Oh, she was gonna enjoy this. Alex triggered and lobbed the device in one easy move, her voice contained by the helmet as she called out, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.” Easy peasy.

Until the bitch reached out and slapped it back at her like a champion handballer. Shit! The gear would mostly protect her, but even then, she was likely to end up seeing stars. She lunged backward, everything made worse when the kid flung the bat with a twist of his wrist that sent it spinning to tangle her feet and send her stumbling.

“MOVE!” La Gata grabbed the kid and shoved hard enough that he would have gone down if not for her grip on his shirt.

Alex’s last glimpse was the two of them crashing through the rotted remains of a door before she fell into a curl, chin tucked against her chest, arms over the helmet when the flash bang went off.

Even through the protective gear she felt the concussion and saw a flash of light through her closed eyelids. In the aftermath, a slight stink of smoke reached her nose. Less than a minute passed before it was safe to lift her head. Breathing hard she took in the dusty, empty confines of the drop house. Her targets were gone. No surprise there.

Cursing under her breath, Alex staggered to her feet, the sound of bitter laughter and the crack of the flash bang still ringing in her ears. No use going after them. They’d be long gone and she was in no shape. It took everything she had just to remain standing.

Not a day for the record books, at least not the kind you want to be in.

Meanwhile, her arm throbbed like a sonofabitch, she was drowning in sweat inside all the layers of braces, ironskin, and leather, and she swore if she caught up with the little bastard again, she’d kick his ass six ways to Sunday. Oh yeah, and apparently Catwoman had gotten the best of her.

Again.

At the same time, as she calmed and got herself back under control, she experienced an unexpected sense of vindication. She’d been starting to doubt herself. No more. She hadn’t gotten a good look, but all black, goggles, crooked plans and sneaking around and fucking with the good guys, yeah, that was the feline bitch in a nutshell.

“La Gata, huh?” she growled.  “I knew you were out there.” She peered around the place, but didn’t see anything that offered any obvious clues. Still, a tight smile curved her lips, her intention to see the thief locked up redoubled. “And the cat came back for the very last time...” she sang softly as she headed back toward her cycle.

* * * * * *

It probably shouldn’t have been a surprise that Cat wound up calling Kara during a lunch break, and asked her if she meant it when she offered to bring Carter home and look after him. She’d finished her article early, but then Barbara had asked her to help with some piece of research for the companion piece, then wanted a short blurb for the social media, then a longer blurb, then other writers working on stories called to ask for some of her research, then to see if she had time to help with theirs. She kept thinking she was done, then something new happened and more work kept coming in.

So she dug in, fielding calls and doing what was asked as quickly as possible.

She helped every way she knew how.

And it felt good.

It was a first for her, feeling like a part of a group and she was startled to realize she liked it. There was an all new sense of achievement and of being relied on, even trusted. There were even a few friendly moments and wry jokes with other writers who’d previously ignored her existence.   From what she could tell as the day wore on, there were now at least four articles being written, as well as some kind of video tie-in on the history of the neighborhood where the jewelry store was located.

It occurred to her that she should have been scared, that investigating the robbery meant closing in on her actions as Catwoman, but the usual terror of discovery never set in. She’d done nothing to arouse the fury of the police or crowds and she didn’t think Jacob would claim otherwise. Maybe he wouldn’t even tell the police who’d saved him. She’d heard nothing to suggest anyone knew she was involved.

Maybe she’d dodged the proverbial bullet.

She heard soft laughter from the family room. Carter, a little giggly and happy, then Kara, almost as happy and sounding not much older. A hint of a smile touched her mouth as she felt an unfamiliar lack of worry with having her son out of her immediate presence. He was safe. Kara would make sure of it.

They were okay and somehow it was going to work out.

She was still musing on that thought when her phone rang. “Kyle here,” she answered instantly.

“Cat, it’s Barbara.” The editor sounded a little tired, but her tone was softer than it had been earlier when her clipped explanations and demands had come fast and sharp.

“Did you need something else?”

“No, actually, I was calling to let you know you can take off for the night.”

“Oh,” Cat exhaled, surprised to feel almost disappointed the work was over. “So everything’s finished then?” Barbara was silent for a long moment and Cat desperately wanted to ask more questions, but instinct held her back.

“There’s some video still being edited,” Barbara exhaled at last, “and some timing issues being hashed out, but I think everything else is in place.” Her editor waited another moment, then she cleared her throat. “Plus Andi’s finishing up her article. She wanted me to thank you for all your help. She made a point about how much more complete it is because of your work.”

“I’m glad I could help.” Cat glanced at the article still up on her laptop. “She’s an amazing writer, made me really feel what that place, that neighborhood must have been like in their heyday.”

Another moment of silence followed before Barbara spoke, the words halting as though she wasn’t quite comfortable with what she was saying. “She is,” she agreed. “But she can be weak on the research end, so thank you for helping her get it right...and thank you for just digging in and doing whatever needed doing today. That’s the kind of attitude I want for the new company. Instead of carefully guarded fiefdoms, I want a team where everybody helps, and knows they can get help if they need it.”

“I like that philosophy.” Cat was surprised to realize she was being honest, not just saying what she thought the other woman wanted to hear.

“Well, you keep doing what you’re doing.”

Cat could hear papers rattle in the background and Barbara was silent for another beat.

“Now go get some dinner, look after your son, do whatever you need. The next few days may be a little long.”

Another beat passed while Cat wondered if she should go ahead and just hang up. Barbara could be surprisingly relaxed when it was about work, but at other times, she seemed stiff and socially awkward as if she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with people when a news story wasn’t involved. Cat was just about to click off when the other woman finally spoke.

“And, Cat...” She was quiet for a beat until finally, “You did really well today. Thank you.”

Cat froze, startled to feel a rush of emotion that left her throat tight and threatened to bring tears to her eyes. “I’m glad,” she heard herself respond, her voice sounding a little ragged inside her head. “That means a lot to me. I really want to get this right.”

“You have so far. Just keep it up.”

They hung up a moment later, and Cat shut her computer down, then slipped into the livingroom without making a sound. Carter was sitting crossed on the floor, an open textbook on his lap, while Kara sat in a similar pose on the couch above him, neck craned so she could peer over his shoulder at what he was doing.

“So it’s really that easy?” Carter was asking, his tone perplexed sounding the way it got when he was genuinely confused by something.

“Yep,” Kara confirmed with a wry smile.

He shook his head. “Why do they make it so hard if it’s that simple?”

“Don’t ask me,” Kara sighed, head canting to one side as she peered at his book. “Sometimes I think textbook writers secretly hate children.”

Carter’s brows drew into a frown as he considered that response. “That actually makes sense,” he decided out loud.

Cat couldn’t help it, she giggled, the sound alerting the other two to her presence.

“Mom!” Carter sounded so happy to see her she couldn’t hold back a wide smile. “Kara was just showing me an easier way of doing quadratic equations. It’s like they actually make sense now.”

“Impressive.”

Kara shrugged, but her eyes were sparkling as she took in Cat, her clothes loose and slouchy, her feet stuffed in brightly colored, fuzzy socks. She looked almost as young as her son. “I just showed him a few tricks.”

“Well, if you can make him love math like he loves science—”

“Like, not love,” Carter corrected.

“Yeah, yeah,” Cat snarked, well aware that his grin said otherwise. Or maybe it was just the attention and praise he loved, or maybe just Kara. In any case, it seemed to be nothing but good for him. “Either way, I think you should thank Kara for helping out today.”

“No thanks needed,” Kara quickly demurred. “It’s been fun.” The last thing she wanted either of them to think was that it was a chore for her. She’d had fun with Carter and their small apartment felt homey and welcoming.

“No, Mom’s right.” Carter twisted to peer up at her. “You were great today and I really appreciate it.” He glanced back at Cat who smiled approvingly. “Thank you so much.” He peered at Kara again, his gaze direct, his smile infectious.

Feeling an unexpected swell of emotion that made it hard to speak for a moment, Kara nodded. Reaching out, she smoothed unruly hair off his forehead. “Well, I was glad to do it, and anytime you need a ride, or anything else, just call.” She looked up at Cat, her expression serious. “I mean it,” she added. “Anytime.” It felt good to be needed for who she was, not her powers, felt good too, to be around people who played and laughed and enjoyed the sunlight. Even Carter’s worries that morning seemed normal by comparison with too many things in her own life.

Cat drew in a sharp breath and nodded, her response little more than a mouthed, “Thank you.” Needing a break from the intensity of the moment, she looked past them toward the sliding glass doors that opened onto the balcony. It was dusk out and would be dark soon. “I know we talked about hitting a restaurant tonight for me to review,” she looked back to Kara. “But honestly, I’m burned out—”

“Oh,” Kara exhaled as she felt an embarrassed flush heat her cheeks. She’d overstayed her welcome. “Right, I should probably get out of your hair.” She all but jacknifed to her feet only to come up short as Cat held out a hand in front of her chest before she could flee.

“Actually, I was going to invite you to dinner,” Cat said, the faintest chiding note in her voice.

“Oh.”

“Nothing fancy,” Cat continued, still holding Kara’s gaze with her own. “I was thinking spaghetti and a salad.”  She shrugged. “Or we could order pizza or Chinese,” she added. “But we’d definitely like you to stay.” She just assumed Carter agreed and his firm nod in the background confirmed his assent. She tipped her head to one side, her expression just short of disapproval. “Assuming, of course, you can remember that little promise you made to me on the boat.”

“I’m—” Kara saw Cat’s eyes flash and froze.

“Don’t apologize,” Cat said, her voice not so crisp this time, though it retained the note of command. Her expression softened. “You apologize too much,” she said gently.

Forgotten for the moment, Carter swung his head back and forth like a spectator at a tennis match.

“I...” Kara began only to skid to a halt as Cat’s brows arched sharply. She took a deep breath, then started over. “I’d love to stay for dinner.”

Cat beamed. Right answer. She looked at Carter and nodded toward the kitchen. “There’s sauce in the freezer if you want to handle the rest,” she offered.

Grinning, he bounded to his feet, clearly excited by the prospect. “Mom makes a great Bolognese sauce,” he explained to Kara. “It’s like, half Italian sausage. She makes it ahead so it’s always ready.” His gaze swung back to his mother. “Antipasto?”

She nodded. “I think there’s still a half a french loaf for garlic bread if you’d like.”

“Cool.” He glanced back and forth between the two women, ending with a serious look at his mother. It was easy enough to read her mood in her body language. She was tense and on edge and annoyed with Kara’s lack of confidence. She could get too sharp when she was like that. “Be nice,” he ordered, his tone surprisingly firm.

“I’m nice,” Cat insisted, though her mouth pursed into a thin line.

Carter raised an eyebrow and glanced at Kara, then back to his mother. He tipped his head to one side and there was a moment of silent communication between mother and son that left Kara out of the loop. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll get things started.” He hurried off toward the kitchen.

Kara thought about it for a moment, several questions dancing on the tip of her tongue before she simply asked, “He cooks?”

Still staring after Carter with a thoughtful expression, Cat nodded. “Simple things. He’s getting better though.” She shrugged, sticking to the safe topic for a moment. “Wants to learn how to make my stroganoff recipe.” She drew in a deep breath, then ran a hand through her hair and turned back toward Kara. “I’m sorry if I was too sharp.” Her boy was growing up and he’d made his point well enough to make her wince at her own behavior.

Kara shook her head. “You don’t owe me—”

“Actually, I do,” Cat disagreed. “If you apologize too much, I apologize too little.” She help up a hand when Kara seemed ready to argue. “You’re a guest in my home, one who did me a hell of a favor today, and I just acted like a brat.”

Kara looked uncomfortable, but was smart enough to realize the other woman needed to get this off her chest.

“I wouldn’t let Carter behave like that.” Cat flashed a quick look the direction her son had disappeared, a wry smile twisting her lips. It might be a little embarrassing to be called on the carpet by her child, but at the same time, she was so damned proud of him for what he’d done, her chest ached. “Apparently he’s now grown up enough to return the favor.” When she returned her attention to Kara, her expression was contrite. “I’m sorry. We all have our weak points, and the last thing I want to do is poke one of yours.” Reaching out, she straightened Kara’s collar, her touch fleeting. “But I want you to understand that I see this amazing young woman and I’m not always as patient as I should be when you don’t seem to appreciate that.”

“You’ve been great,” Kara disagreed. She gnawed on her lower lip, embarrassed by her insecurities. “Sometimes I just can’t understand why.” She held a hand when Cat drew a breath to respond. “It’s nothing you’ve done,” Kara assured her. “It’s me.”

Cat’s hand floated up from Kara’s collar, brushed her cheek, cupped her chin, stroked along her jawline, every small bit of contact part of a tactile need to reassure them both. “You are very welcome here...anytime. If you ever doubt that, consider that I trusted you with my son today, and I don’t do that lightly.” She tucked a finger under Kara’s chin, bringing her head up when she would have looked away. “I also consider you a friend, and I don’t even remember the last time I said that to anyone.”

Kara swallowed hard and nodded. “Thank you.” She caught Cat’s and ran her thumb along the rise of her knuckles, holding her gaze as they shared a long look. “It’s mutual.”

Pots and pans clattered noisily in the kitchen.

Cat’s chin snapped toward the sound as she was reminded of her son’s activities. “I should probably go supervise,” she exhaled, sounding a little disappointed at the prospect. “He still gets a little ham handed sometimes.”

Nodding, Kara released her loose hold on Cat’s hand to wave her toward the kitchen.“He can be kinda impatient on lab days.” She offered a teasing smile. “Though no major explosions yet.”

Another clatter that bordered on a crash echoed from the other room.

Cat’s ears twitched nervously in spite of her usual control and she bounced on her toes. “I think maybe we should hurry.”

Kara nodded and followed her to the kitchen. Cat quickly got things back under control, and had Carter put away several pots wholly inappropriate for what he needed. After that, she  she allowed an eager Carter to handle the cooking with a few reminders to take things more slowly and be careful. When he stuck his head outside, and pronounced it not too cold to eat on the balcony, both adults followed his lead.

“I have a pretty good Chianti on hand if you’d like wine,” Cat told Kara as she pulled a bottle out of the fridge and peered at the label. “But only if you’re willing to stay here at least an hour after your last drink.”

Carter nodded. “Mom’s really strict about drinking and driving,” he confirmed.

Kara had relaxed enough to grin by then. “I’d love to stay at least an hour after dinner,” she admitted. She wasn’t really much of a drinker—she preferred sodas for the most part and alcohol had no effect on her under normal circumstances—but the idea of having to stay longer appealed.

Cat flashed another of the beaming smiles, this time without even a trace of the earlier sharpness. “Wine it is then.”

So a half hour later, they ate at the small table on the balcony, a flickering votive candle the only illumination other than the reflected lights from the city below. There wasn’t much room, so elbows and knees bumped occasionally and they had to serve themselves inside then carry the plates out. The smell was heavenly though and Kara found herself once again with people who actually had enough food on hand to fill her and showed no sign of noticing just how much that was. Meanwhile,  Cat served the wine, though she had to set the bottle on the floor off to the side to have space for it.

Kara tasted it and smiled wryly. It wasn’t something Alfred would have allowed anywhere near Bruce’s wine cellar, but it was a bit sweet and pleasantly sharp. Besides, as the meal wore on, it left Cat just a bit buzzed. Oh, not drunk by any means, but a little giggly, and either a bit less coordinated or maybe just less careful and less reserved. Her knee grazed Kara’s as she told a risque joke that went over Carter’s head. Then a few minutes later, her hand brushed Kara’s upper arm in a fleeting caress and their shoulders bumped several times, the grazing touches long enough to leave Kara very aware of Cat’s body heat.  Quick glances and shared smiles followed and twice Cat’s hand landed briefly on Kara’s thigh.

It was teasing and fun and just the tiniest bit dangerous. Or perhaps, given the thoughts Kara was starting to have and the smiles that kept trading back and forth with Cat, maybe a lot dangerous, for a very pleasant definition of danger.

Kara loved it. She wasn’t sure what they were doing, or maybe she was and just wasn’t ready to look too closely at what she was feeling. Either way, she didn’t want it to end anytime soon.

She was enjoying herself far too much.

So Kara dug into the food, drank the wine and if her shoulder and knee bumped Cat’s more often than was remotely necessary, she couldn’t feel bad about it because Cat seemed to enjoy it as much as she did. Later, when Carter began telling bad knock-knock jokes, she responded with her own–she’d learned a few things as a teacher. It wasn’t long before they were all laughing uncontrollably at the sheer badness of it all. Finally, with dinner done, their efforts to one-up each other resulted in Kara hitting a punchline that knocked Carter silent. He just stared for a moment, then looked at his mother, who giggled softly. He groaned and rolled his eyes. “You’re more juvenile than I am.” He sniffed disapprovingly at his mother. “Both of you.”

Which made both women laugh even harder.

“And on that note,” he grumbled, “I still have homework to finish.”

“You need any more help?” Kara asked through continuing giggles.

He thought about it a moment and shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.” He looked at the adults again and shook his head. “Besides, you two are way too into that joke.” He looked at his mom in a silent request for permission and she nodded.

“Go on.” She smiled. “And thank you for dinner. It was excellent.”

“Ditto,” Kara agreed. “Seriously, dinner was wonderful and I had a great time today. You’re welcome to catch a ride with me anytime.” She couldn’t have held back a smile if her life depended on it.

He grinned happily, then started stacking the dishes to take them away.

Kara straightened and would have helped, but Carter waved her off.

“A good host takes care of that,” he told her and flashed a quick look at his mother, who nodded. “It’s a way of showing someone how much you appreciate their company,” he added seriously.

It went against her basic need to be helpful, but Kara understood she needed to let him have this. Nodding, she let him take her plate, though she held back her glass. “Well, thank you, Carter.” She glanced at Cat and saw the gratitude in her tiny nod. “You’ve been a wonderful host tonight.”

His chest puffed out with pride and it struck Kara as she peered into his wide open gaze that Cat was careful about teaching him things like this, manners, but also being kind and making people feel appreciated. She’d speak up sometimes and remind him, but he was good on his own about it too. She’d seen it in how he treated the teachers and his fellow students at school.

Finally, with everything neatly stacked, he said his goodbyes and hurried off.

Cat watched him go with a satisfied smile. She was so damn proud of that boy it made her wonder how she could have produced something so utterly perfect.

“He’s a great kid,” Kara murmured as if she’d read Cat’s mind.

“Sometimes it feels like he’s the one thing in my life I got right,” she sighed, thinking of all the choices she’d made to create a better future for him. “I’d do anything for him.”

Kara nodded, drawn to the warmth on display even if it sometimes felt more alien than she was. Her own family on Krypton had loved her, even been willing to die for her, but she’d never had any great sense that they really saw her. She was the future of Krypton, not an individual. Meanwhile,  her human family also loved her, but their priorities felt so different that neither she nor they quite knew what to say or do. This family, on the other hand, felt like something she’d long wanted, but hadn’t quite known existed.

Cat met her gaze with a soft smile before taking a moment to top off her wine. That done, she rose and stepped over to the balcony railing. “It’s warmer than I expected tonight,” she sighed, needing some distance to have any hope of clearing her head. All the flirtation and brief touches had left her jittery and spun up. Probably not her best choice, but she hadn’t seemed able to back away.

Kara followed suit and joined her, leaning against the railing to stare out at the city.

Cat stared. When it came to head clearing the sight of Kara like that didn’t help. Her gaze drifted over smooth curves. No, that didn’t help at all. She took a long drink from her glass. Probably also less than helpful. Then a soft scent teased her nostrils, something newly familiar to her. Tangy and a little sweet like some heretofore unknown citrus, it was wholly Kara’s own. It clung to her skin even sharper and more tantalizing than where it remained on the borrowed jacket Cat now burrowed into at night.

Kara tipped her gaze skyward and sniffed at the air. “Warmer, yeah,” she agreed, assessing the weather with the experience of someone who’d spent years in Gotham. “We sometimes get these temperate pauses this time of year,” she mused between idle sips of wine. “But they never last long and usually when they break, it means bitter cold heralded by the kind of storm that shuts the city down.” Her gaze swung to the west where she could easily make out the work lights of the Bowery Project as crews tried to finish several tasks ahead of the winter weather. She swung her gaze east, noting it was much darker and knew that if she sharpened her vision enough, she would see too much crime amid dirty streets where city services virtually didn’t reach. If winter came in hard, they would be the ones to suffer.

Peering up at Kara, Cat enjoyed the clean lines of her profile even as she noted the melancholy in her eyes. It wasn’t the night for it, she decided and reached out.

Kara was startled out of her grim thoughts by the soft tink of a fingernail tapping her wine glass. Cat was smiling up at her and she felt the encroaching darkness retreat a bit.

Cat rapped the glass again. “You know this means you have to stay at least an hour after you finish,” she pointed out.

Kara nodded, the weight on her shoulders fading as she stared down into warm, green eyes. She couldn’t hold back a smile. Somehow Cat just did that for her with little more than a look. “I don’t mind, if you don’t.”

Good girl, the thought went through Cat’s head . “Not at all.” She let out a satisfied sigh and bumped Kara’s shoulder with her own before leaning forward to stare out at the world. “I love this view.” The temperature was dropping, and she pulled her sweater more firmly around herself to ward off the growing chill.

“It’s beautiful,” Kara agreed. “I’ve always loved looking out at city lights.” Even as a child on Krypton, she’d loved to look down on the city and watch the lights and patterns of movement. Few things relaxed her as much or left her feeling so thoroughly a part of this world even when floating above it.

They stayed there in companionable silence, simply watching the city for several minutes until Cat cleared her throat.

Kara heard the other woman’s heartrate pick up. Nervous, but not terrified.

“Carter really likes you, you know,” Cat began.

Kara was glad to hear it.

“I do too,” Cat added, her voice soft and thoughtful, her gaze still on the city past her balcony, instinct telling her Kara needed a bit of space. She needed to make some things clear though.  “If you ever want to talk about why you think we wouldn’t you around—why you think I wouldn’t want you—I’ll listen.” She was silent for a beat, considering her words carefully in an effort to give Kara a chance to speak if she wanted, but also determined not to pressure her. “But if you don’t want to, that’s okay too.” It needed to be Kara’s choice. She thought back to her younger days, to a hand held out and unexpected faith that she could still be human if she wanted. It would never have worked if Selina had tried to use force. Lesson learned. She needed to control her own impatient, pushy side. She tipped her head back, seeing the familiar bright stars. “Do you know anything about the stars?”

Kara almost laughed, but realized she’d have to explain too many things. “A little,” she admitted.

Cat read that knowing, wry tone and looked over, her expression almost disappointed. She’d forgotten what Kara did for a living. Hell, the girl probably knew more than she did. “Right, science teacher.”

That too, Kara thought, and nodded.

“Probably not much I can tell you that you don’t already know,” Cat sighed. This time it was definitely disappointment.

“You could tell me why you love them.” When no answer was quickly forthcoming, Kara was left with the sense it was a difficult debate.

Cat was silent for a long moment. The problem of how much to say wasn’t a simple one. “My father,” she finally answered, keeping it simple. “When I was little, we’d sit outside and he’d aim his telescope on the different stars and teach me about them. Later, when I had Carter, we could go up on a rooftop and stargaze for free.” Free had been important in those days, as had being outside in places where they weren’t likely to be noticed.

A soft smile touched Kara’s lips. “My aunt taught me the stars.” Her lessons had involved different constellations, but it was the only time anyone paid more than passing attention to her. Rao, how she missed those times, because Bruce? Much as he loved the night, noting the stars would have required looking up from the crime soaked streets he was obsessed with. She doubted he even knew the stars existed. “God, I miss those times.”

It felt like the most natural thing in the world when Cat reached out to settled her hand over Kara’s. “Yeah,” she exhaled.

She didn’t have to say anymore than that for Kara to know. She recognized the hurt. “How old were you?”

They both understood what she was asking.

“Twelve.” Normally, it wasn’t a question Cat would have answered, but holding the truth back from this woman felt impossible. “Car accident.” That had been the official finding anyway.

“Thirteen,” Kara whispered her voice echoing with old pain.

Cat remembered she’d mentioned it on the boat. “You said there was a fire?” she said by way of question.

“Yeah...a really bad one.” This was the closest Kara had come to telling anyone the truth outside of her adoptive family. “My whole family...everything I knew.” She was surprised by the strength of the hand clinging to hers.

“I can’t imagine,” Cat whispered. “When I lost Dad, I still had my mother.” She was silent a long moment, bitter memories stealing her voice until she muttered under her breath, “Losing everything would have been better.” Even now, the depth of that betrayal was like salt ground into a fresh wound.

Speaking of being sorry, Kara thought. There was a wealth of hurt in that simple statement, though it was obvious Cat hadn’t meant it to be heard. She wanted to ask, but instinct told her it wasn’t the time. After a moment, she slipped her hand free and pointed skyward. Maybe a bit of distraction. “My favorite constellation here is Draco,” she deliberately changed topics as she sketched her finger along the trail of stars. She leaned close, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Did you know it includes a nebula?”

Cat shook her head.

Kara flashed a tiny, triumphant grin, though she suspected Cat might be fudging the truth  to have something else to talk about. “You can’t see it with the naked eye.” Well, she could, but a human couldn’t. “But even binoculars are enough to see a bit of a smudge. With better telescopes, it’s just gorgeous, vivid color and a distinct shape.” She leaned close enough to whisper near Cat’s ear. “It’s named the Cat’s Eye nebula.” She heard Cat’s pulse accelerate and the hitch in her breathing. Distraction indeed. “Which right now just makes me like Draco more.”

Cat blinked, unable to take her eyes off the tiny splash of color in the sky. She’d seen it before, of course, first through her father’s telescope and later, after everything changed, with the naked eye, but she’d never really thought about it. Suddenly the normally unimpressive smear of green with its flick of red seemed particularly vivid, beautiful even. All because Kara liked it. Which possibly was the most terrifying thought she’d had in years because she honestly had no idea what to do with the fact that this thing—whatever it was—was moving past a parent-teacher friendship or any lighthearted flirtation.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear or feel Kara move until a hand landed lightly on her shoulder. The twitchy jump happened, muscles flexing and quivering wildly before she could stop the response. She heard Kara’s instant gasp and felt her go utterly still, barely even breathing.

Kara froze the moment she registered the other woman’s skittish flinch and couldn’t help but remember her worries when speaking with Carter that morning. That, coupled with Cat’s muttered comment about her mother didn’t paint a pretty picture. She carefully drew her hand back, moving slowly and deliberately so as not to startle her again. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

Green eyes slid closed in response to the softly spoken apology. “You didn’t,” Cat assured her. She glanced back and flashed a soothing smile even as her shoulders shifted in an embarrassed shrug. “Overly sensitive startle reflex.”

Kara settled her hand back on the balcony railing. “I hope you know I would never hurt you,” she promised.

“I know that,” Cat snapped, her voice more brittle than she intended. She had it in her to wonder if that was the wisest answer. They were pulling closer than she’d planned–or rather, not planned–and she couldn’t help but wonder how stupid she was for not stopping it. She might be trying to change, but her life was still a chaotic mess at best, while Kara was sweet  and so innocent that Cat couldn’t help but think she should send her packing because Cat was none of those things.

Which did nothing to ease the thickening temptation, perhaps even made it worse. That utter lack of suspicion was a candle flame to her moth’s wings, offering warmth and light and threatening possible immolation.

Kara took the silence for trust issues and spoke up, her breathing fast and nervous. “I mean it, Cat.” She paused to grab a breath. “Never,” she repeated intensely. “And if you need any kind of help—”

“I don’t,” Cat lied sharply. This time, the meanness of her own tone struck her as she heard Kara’s sharp exhalation as though she’d been struck. Awash in a sudden wave of emotion, she shook her head and took a moment to gather herself. Guilt was something she hadn’t allowed herself in years and it was hard not to bolt in a panic. Finally, she deliberately softened her voice.“I’m sorry, Kara,” she whispered intensely, unable to push the other woman away even if it might be wiser. “ I didn’t mean to snap and I’m not afraid of you.” She dismissed the ludicrous idea with a disapproving sniff. If anyone should be afraid, it was this beautiful, kind-hearted, woman who was sweet and naive enough to actually trust her. That choice had emptied the pockets and diminished the hope of more than one person.

She would not let it happen again, not to Kara.

Kara let out a sharp breath of relief even if she wasn’t certain she completely believed the denial. “I hope not,” she insisted as she peered at Cat, taking in her stressed body language and bowed head. That wasn’t an example of confidence on any world. “Because I would never want that.”

“I know.” Cat swallowed hard and blew out a hard breath before she turned enough to meet Kara’s worried gaze. “I really do trust you,” she assured the younger woman. “I just...” She stumbled to a halt as she considered how much to explain. “There are some bad things in my past,” she admitted at last.

Kara nodded. She’d guessed as much. “Is there anything now?” she asked, needing to know Cat and Carter were okay because if they weren’t, she’d bring the full might of Bruce’s empire and her own abilities to bear to protect them. They were already that important to her. “Are you and Carter safe?”

Catching Kara’s hand in her own. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” Cat acknowledged and looked away for a moment. It felt so strange to have someone care that she didn’t quite know how to respond. “But we’re good here.” She looked back to Kara, and squeezed her hand firmly. “We’re safe,” she assured her. “It’s a new chance, for Carter and I both.”

“You’ll tell me if you need help?” Kara whispered.

Cat froze. It was a promise she couldn’t make, not when it might put Kara in danger and Cat’s problems were most likely to be a kind the girl couldn’t help with. “I promise I’ll tell you if there’s anything you can do.” It was the best she could do.

Kara frowned, correctly reading the conditional nature of the answer. Part of her wanted to tell Cat just how powerful her family was, not to mention how powerful she was. One word and nothing could ever hurt her again. Another part was terrified the other woman would run for cover if she knew the truth. Cat didn’t strike her as the type to be drawn to wealth and power, and the scope of it could be overwhelming even for those used to it. In the end, she remained silent.

“There is one thing you could do,” Cat said after a long moment. “The school wanted an emergency contact in case they couldn’t reach me, and I wondered if you’d—”

“I’d be happy to,” Kara said before she could get any further.

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.” Kara paused for a moment, then finally risked asking an obvious question. “Do you have any other family?”

“No.” Cat was silent for a moment before sighing heavily. “No one who matters anyway. My mother may be alive, but she’s long out of my life, and Carter’s father was never in it. He didn’t want either of us.”

Kara hurt for anyone so alone in the world. “ I’m more than happy to be an emergency contact, or anything else I can do.”

“That’s plenty,” Cat assured her. For Carter to have someone else meant everything to her.

“It’s nothing.” She’d do the same for any of her kids.

“Never dealt with a projectile vomiting kid then?” Cat joked in an effort to lighten the mood. They both needed a break from what felt overwhelmingly sad.

“Actually, I have. Every teacher does sooner or later.” Kara pivoted and leaned back against the railing and took another sip of wine. “And if it was Carter, I’m not saying I’d be happy, but I’d look after him. You too.”

Cat’s breath hitched as she found herself caught by the expression in remarkably clear blue eyes. “So if I’m ever projectile vomiting, it’s okay to call?” she asked after a beat.

A soft laugh and Kara’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ll kick your ass if you don’t.” It was a joke, but serious too. Reaching out, she cupped her palm along the curve of Cat’s cheek. Struck by the velvety softness of her skin, she stroked lightly with her thumb.

Unable to resist, Cat turned her cheek into the caress, a nearly soundless purr vibrating at the base of her throat. Swallowing hard, she peered up at the younger woman. It was tempting to pretend nothing was happening, that they were just two adults who enjoyed each other’s company, but simple friendship didn’t make her insides quiver at the tiniest bit of contact or set her pulse running so easily. Kara was becoming too important to risk so much. She couldn’t afford an emotional tailspin and Carter couldn’t afford to lose the one adult other than her that he’d ever bonded to. “What are we doing?” she asked at last, her voice soft and scared.

Kara’s voice caught in her throat as green eyes found hers. “I...” She trailed off, afraid to give the first answer that came to her, certain Cat was on the verge of bolting. “Something,” she said after a long beat.

“So I’m not imagining it?” Cat whispered uncertainly. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself anything emotional that she really wasn’t sure.

Between her origins, her family, and everything else, it would be simpler for Kara to say she was. Bruce and Alex would firmly urge to do so. They had enough times already because, god forbid she trust anyone. Hell, Alex would probably start suggesting Cat was Catwoman again.

But Kara couldn’t do it. “You aren’t imagining anything.”

“I’ve never brought people home in front of Carter.” Given the people in her circle, it wasn’t a risk she’d ever been willing to take, particularly not for some brief fling. She glanced sideways for a moment, then added, “Our life was already so unstable. I couldn’t do that to him.”

Kara fidgeted. She hadn’t planned on this conversation, hadn’t even let herself fantasize it might happen, so she went with her gut. “I’m not looking for a one-night stand.” Not that she wasn’t attracted. She was. Cat settled a hand on her chest, the light contact enough to make her pulse accelerated more than flying around the world twice would have. Yeah, a one night stand had its appeal, but even as that thought occurred, she knew she wanted so much more.  

“I wasn’t offering,” Cat said crispy, one eyebrow arching high, her manner cooling several degrees. The comment stung even if Kara hadn’t meant it to. She’d had too many people assume too many things for it not to.

“I know.” Kara barely paused as she realized what Cat thought and tried to turn expectations around. “I just wanted it understood you have to appreciate me for my mind as well as my body.” The line was delivered perfectly straight faced.

Cat blinked, momentarily left mute by the effort it took to parse Kara’s response. “I...” She trailed off, then got the joke and chuckled softly, any tension broken. “Point taken.” She eyed the younger woman from head to toe, a frisson if something wicked and taunting shivering up her spine, the wild thing in her demanding to teach the little girl a lesson. “But you should know I think you have a really...hot...mind,” she drawled, drawing each successive word out a little more.

Kara swallowed hard. “I...” She was so out of her depth, though it was tempting to dive deep and swim for it anyway.

Cat shook her head and spread her palm where it rested over Kara’s sternum. Her eyes gleamed and her lips twitched. Hunting instincts engaged. She peered into blue eyes and saw the hunger there. It would be so easy.

Which was the problem. Easy was only easy until it wasn’t. She’d stolen plenty of things. Kara shouldn’t be one of them.

Her hand firm on Kara’s chest, Cat stepped back a pace and took a deep, calming breath.

“Cat?” Kara sounded almost scared.

“We take this slowly...one step at a time,” she said firmly, consciously pushing the hunter back into its cage.

“So you’re...interested?” Kara asked haltingly.

Her smile tender, Cat shook her head. Maybe she should, but she couldn’t. “Very,” she confessed. Besides, with care, perhaps she could do this right. “I just need to do this right, be careful.” She blew out a sharp breath and flicked a glance toward the livingroom. “And take things very slowly.”

Kara followed the line of her gaze, and paused to think about it for a moment before adding. “And if it goes no farther than the friendship we have, that’s okay too.” She reached up to settle her hand over Cat’s where it rested on her chest. “Whatever happens, we stay friends.”

Cat nodded, grateful for the younger woman’s innate understanding. “Friends,” she repeated with a firm nod.

“And if more happens, that’s okay too,” Kara added, sensing Cat’s insecurities.

Green eyes glittered with raw appreciation. “More than okay,” Cat drawled, the feline in her needing to preen in response to the look in Kara’s eyes.

Kara’s mouth ran dry as Cat turned on a taunting grin and did a little hip and shoulder wiggle that shouldn’t have been that appealing in a woman wearing pilled sweats, a stretched out cardigan, and fuzzy socks. “I’m glad,” she gasped.

“Good,” Cat drawled, a tiny shiver making its way down her spine. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this enticing sense of safety mixed with wicked levels of want.  Maybe never. She tipped her head back to peer at the sky, calming herself with its grandeur. “But maybe it’s time to go back to talking about the stars.” At least if they were going to go slow.

“Right,” Kara panted dazedly. “Stars.”

Both needing a break from the charged conversation, they quieted, occasionally pointing at this or that, but mostly enjoying the night and the company.

Finally, Kara cleared her throat and asked, “Speaking of stars, did you know there’s a planetarium at the university?”

Cat looked over and shook her head. “No.”

“They took the old observatory on campus, made it the centerpoint of a new building with a planetarium and a children’s museum. It’s supposed to have some pretty cool stuff.” It should. Bruce had donated enough money for it. “It’s on the edge of campus, not far from the riverwalk. I’ve been meaning to go. I thought maybe the three of us?” She paused for a brief moment. “I get that you two are a package deal,” she clarified. If things were going to move forward, it needed to happen in a way that included Carter.

Cat’s mouth turned up in a small, grateful smile. “I know.” None of this conversation would be taking place if she wasn’t confident that Kara understood her priorities. “I think the planetarium sounds wonderful.”

“I figured Carter would enjoy it.”

“He will,” Cat agreed. “But honestly, I love that kind of thing too.” A happy grin curved her lips, making her seem little older than her son. She and Carter had long been museum hounds. They were generally cheap, and once he’d been safe to take in public, something that always kept that eager brain engaged. “One of the greatest things about having a child is you can go all those kid’s places where they let you play with the exhibits without being embarrassed.”

“It’s a great part of being a teacher too.” Kara giggled. “In fact, it means you have to play with them to demonstrate them to your students.”

“I knew there was a reason I like you.”

Kara all but glowed. “Hopefully, I can give you a few more,” she flirted, or at least she hoped she was flirting. She wasn’t exactly an expert.

A blonde brow climbed high on Cat’s brow as she turned an assessing look Kara’s way. “I can think of one or two things already.”

Kara coughed and took a moment to catch her breath before taking a sip from her wineglass. “I...uh...you...” she croaked.

Cat let out a soft, triumphant laugh.

“You’re evil,” Kara accused when she finally caught her breath. She sounded thrilled by the prospect.

It occurred to Cat that it was possibly the first time someone uttered had those words about her where they weren’t even slightly true. “Mm.” She took a sip from her glass and turned toward Kara, taking in bright eyes and pleasing curves. “Very,” she confirmed, pleased by the prospect of getting to know them better. Leaning against the railing, she trailed her gaze all the way down, then up again to peer into Kara’s eyes. An approving smile teased her lips. “I’ve been known to steal candy from babies,” she drawled, putting a  suggestive spin on the words that somehow cast Kara as the baby and the candy.

Kara coughed again and found herself wondering who’d robbed the air of all the oxygen.

“Okay, so it was Carter’s Halloween candy,” Cat admitted, taking pity on Kara as her sex kitten act broke into a snicker. “But that boy never eats the Snickers anyways. He prefers Three Musketeers. It’s almost enough to make me wonder if he’s really mine.”

“Hey, it’s chocolate. Never diss chocolate in any form.”

Cat sniffed disapprovingly. “A thin shell over—” her lip curled disdainfully “—whipped nougat.” She shook her head and stuck out her tongue in a universal ‘ick’ gesture. “Boring.” She dragged out the single word in a musical trill.

“But chocolate.”

“Fine. You and Carter can have them. I’ll take everything else.”

“Oh no, I’m an equal opportunity devourer of chocolate.” Kara laughed and leaned in close enough to note the tiny gold flecks in the green of Cat’s eyes. “Among other things,” she murmured, her voice dropping low and taking on a suggestive note.

Cat felt her pulse pick up in response to the challenge in blue eyes. “Oh, Kara,” she exhaled and rested a hand on the girl’s chest, caught somewhere between holding her off and pulling her closer. Hunting instinct re-engaged. “You don’t want to try and one-up me.” She took a step closer. “You’ll lose.”

Cat wasn’t the only one who liked a challenge. “Which could be fun in its own right.” Kara took a half step forward until they were almost touching.

Going slow was proving to be more of a challenge than either of them expected.

Blood quickening in her veins, Cat leaned in just a little, then caught herself as she heard a bit of sound and was reminded of Carter just inside and down the hall, with sharp, little ears that could prick to the tiniest sound. The hand on Kara’s chest tensed and the undecided push-pull became firm pressure. “Carter,” she whispered in reminder.

Kara pulled back fractionally and her brows drew into a frown. “Right.” She looked up, x-ray vision revealing he was still in the livingroom, sitting cross-legged on the couch, his math book on his lap.

“I’ll need to talk to him,” Cat said by way of explanation.

Kara nodded her understanding. “If it’s a comfort, while we were driving back, he asked if I like you—” she put extra emphasis on the word like “—and kept grinning at me.”

Cat laughed and rolled her eyes.  “The question, ‘Do you like-like her?’ might have been heard around here after we got back from sailing.” She shrugged. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem, but I want him to understand and not be surprised.”

“So he knows that you...” Kara didn’t finish, uncertain what to say or how to phrase it.

Cat took pity on her. “Prefer the company of women?” She nodded. “It’s not something I’ve ever hidden.”

“That’s good...I mean, that you were honest with him. I see so many kids whose parents lie and hide things and it never comes out well.”

“For good or ill, Carter knows me,” Cat sighed.

“It’s good,” Kara said confidently and laid a hand over Cat’s, the warmth of her skin sending a small shiver of awareness through both of them. “So...uh...we have a busy week at school, and I’m guessing you will too,” she said to distract herself from a sudden flood of sensations. When Barbara pursued a story, it was always with total commitment. “Maybe we could do the planetarium Friday. We have a half day, so I could just bring Carter home and go from there.” She paused a beat. “Then maybe hit the restaurant you were talking about reviewing for dinner.” Another beat. “Or is that too far off?”

“Actually Barbara warned us that the next few days would probably be busy and not to plan anything we couldn’t reschedule, so Friday’s perfect.” She eyed the girl for a moment. “But are you sure you don’t want a break between school and going out?”

She got a quick headshake. “Nah, I’ll bring spare clothes. It’ll be fine.” Not sweating under normal circumstances could be an advantage some days.

“Well, if you change your mind and want a shower, you’re welcome to grab one here,” Cat offered automatically, only to have it occur to her a tiny beat later what that would mean. Strange to have something so simple send a ripple of awareness through her hard enough to make her breath catch.

Their gazes met and some blushing followed, but Kara opted to ignore the opening and simply offer, “If you want, I can take him in that morning too.”

Cat nodded, grateful to have something else to think about. “Let me talk to him. See what he thinks.” Like her, Carter needed control over certain things. The plan for the planetarium and ride home would almost certainly go over well, but an unusual plan for the morning when he was already likely to struggle might be too much. He’d just barely dealt with it that morning because it was an emergency, but for a plan to work, it would have to be his decision.

Kara nodded, accepting the answer. “He needs that, doesn’t he?” she asked thoughtfully. “To have some input with what’s happening?”

Impressed by Kara’s observation, Cat nodded. “He’s like me,” she admitted. “Doesn’t always handle life well if it feels too out of control.”

Kara could see it. He was a good kid and Cat had taught him manners, but he could get prickly with other students when it came to his things or his personal space. “So was baby Carter a demanding little monster?”

Old ghosts floated, not quite hidden, in Cat’s eyes and she waved a hand near her temple as if brushing off a particularly aggressive insect.

“Cat?”

“No,” she said very softly. “He was...” She trailed off, haunted by the memory of Carter in her arms, so tiny and grey as he struggled just to lift his head, the genetic sins done to her visited on him with even more cruelty. “He was the sweetest...child...but he was...ill...most of the first year. I didn’t know if he’d survive.”

Kara’s stomach did a flip and sank. “Is he okay now?” Even she heard the fear echoing in her own voice.

“He’s...” Strong and fierce and every bit as agile as she was as opposed to those early months when he’d been too small and weak, barely even able to nurse, so different from a normal child that she’d had to avoid the doctors very early. She wouldn’t see her son turned into a test subject when there was nothing the doctors could do anyway. So she’d hidden away, holding him by the hour, crooning softly, both of them stressed and rumbly, half expecting each breath to be his last—

“Cat?” Kara repeated, sounding almost panicked.

Cat blinked, yanked out of the past by the other woman’s terror. She caught her hand in a firm grasp. “He’s okay,” she quickly assured her. “Failure to thrive they called it...which was really code for, ‘We don’t know what’s wrong.’” She shrugged. “Then one day he started getting stronger.” Another shrug. “I may have spoiled him a little after that...or a lot.” She let out a grim chuckle. Carter had been a bit of a terror once he started growing and healing, sometimes utterly somnolent, others, so high energy he’d literally bounced off the walls like a human gas molecule. She’d had to restrict him in so many ways that she’d indulged every whim she could, too grateful to see him alive and getting stronger to institute much discipline.

“I can understand that.” Kara thought about it and things clicked in her head. “That’s why the reminders about manners.”

“He was a bit feral there for a while.” Literally. Cat smothered an embarrassed laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, he was never mean, and he’s always had a sense of fairness. He could just be a little thoughtless and wild.” Both dangerous traits for them. Drawing the wrong kind of attention could be disastrous.

Understanding much more than she had before, Kara nodded. “He’s a great kid.” She straightened her shoulders, her expression turning serious as she saw a good opening to say something else that felt very important to her.  “And just so you know, my relationship with him is separate from anything between you and me. He’s my student and I always fight for them, no matter what.” On Krypton teaching had been viewed more as a sacred calling than simply a job. That ethic remained deeply ingrained. “There is literally nothing you could do to change that.” She allowed herself the smallest hint of a smile as Cat heaved a sigh of relief.

“Good.” Cat’s tone was firm, her smile serious. “If there’s ever a choice to be made, you choose him.”

Which only made her more appealing, Kara thought. She took a small step closer. Reaching out, every movement slow enough to give Cat plenty of time to see her coming. She brushed pale gold hair back from the other woman’s brow, relieved to see no sign of rejection in green eyes. “I’d very much like to kiss you,” she admitted, suddenly breathless. Her voice was soft and formal, dealing with Cat the way she would have on Krypton rather than here, the more reserved mores of her old world feeling more apropos.

Cat paused, a hard swallow making her throat bob. She shouldn’t. She should wait, at least speak to Carter before it went any farther, be responsible for once.

But the tenderly spoken request and reassuring look in blue eyes touched a long forgotten part of her soul and she couldn’t refuse. She caught Kara’s hands with her own to tug her into the small protected niche that abutted the neighboring balcony. Shielded from the sliding glass door, it wasn’t visible from anyplace in the apartment, giving them a guaranteed bit of privacy.

Following willingly, Kara exhaled a relieved sigh. Her hands found light purchase on Cat’s hips as they were released. She was ready to pull away in an instant, but Cat actually leaned into her.

So much for good intentions.

They both fell silent and tiny hitches of breath could be heard. A shiver worked its way down Cat’s spine as Kara’s thumbs circled lightly at her hip. Green eyes met blue and their gazes held.

“I’d still like to kiss you,” Kara exhaled in a tacit request for permission.

Smoothing her palms up Kara’s chest, Cat took pleasure in the warmth and strength she found, then she looked up into blue eyes and saw another kind of strength and melted. No one had ever treated her so gently or made her feel so safe. She nodded.

Neither woman moved for a long moment, then Kara ducked her head. The first brush of their lips was brief, tentative even, but tender and warm. The second was more confident, but just as careful while the third was firmer, but still gallant and gentle, an invitation. not a demand.

Her breathing heavy, hands trembling, Cat curled her fingers into Kara’s sweater as she fought the urge to work her fingers against firm muscle in happy abandon. It went on, back and forth as they learned one another and found a rhythm that worked. Small forays ebbed and flowed as they traded soft kisses, exploring slowly.

Finally, Kara pulled her head back just enough to break the kiss.

“You know how to do this,” Cat whispered.

“Not so’s anyone’s ever noticed before.” Kara leaned in to lightly bump Cat’s forehead with her own. “Maybe it’s the company,” she teased as she lifted a hand to brush ruffled hair off Cat’s cheek.

“Speaking of not so’s you’d notice,” Cat drawled. Ducking her head, she leaned against Kara, breathing in the scent and heat of her. It took effort to contain a delicate, satisfied purr.

They stood quietly, leaning against one another, close and touching, but no more than that..

“I’d like to hold you.” Kara wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around the smaller woman and cling, but she needed to be sure it would be okay.

Cat tipped her head back, peering up at the younger woman. “I won’t break.” She was no weak, mewling kitten and she wouldn’t be treated like one.

“I know,” Kara assured her. “But I don’t ever want you to be afraid of me.”

Cat drew in a slow breath, her expression solemn. “I’m not, but I don’t want you to be afraid of me either.”

“I’m not—” Kara began, but Cat’s fingers landed on her lips, silencing the denial.

“Yes, you are. Not that I’m going to hurt you, but that I’ll panic.” Her eyebrows climbed toward her forehead. “You needn’t be. I jump sometimes, but I’m no delicate flower.” She dropped her hands back to Kara’s chest to curl her fingers into her thick cardigan. “Far from it.” A firm tug brought Kara back to her when she would have pulled away. There was no more aggression this time than the first, but it was securely under Cat’s control. Staring into blue eyes, she gave Kara time and watched for any sign of rejection as she slowly pushed up on her toes, then her mouth found Kara’s and she drank in the young teacher’s low groan. Cat took time to explore,  learning the shape and texture, discovering the way she moved when she shifted her lips to accommodate Cat’s, leaning in when she wanted more.

So much more.

They were both breathing raggedly by the time she broke the kiss. “Okay, that was...special,” Cat gasped as she drew back just enough to peer up at Kara.

Kara offered a dazed nod. There she was, an alien who could fly around the world in the time it took most people to cross a room and it took everything she had just to stay on her feet. “That was...wow.”

Cat laughed softly and stole another quick kiss. Reaching down, she caught Kara’s hands where they’d settled at her hips and tugged them around her waist, then snuggled into the taller woman.

“So you’re good with the holding thing then?” Kara murmured near her ear.

“Mmm.” Words harder with her hormones buzzing pleasantly and an unfamiliar sense of total safety, Cat cuddled into Kara’s warmth. Enjoying the way the taller woman’s body blocked out the chilly night air and the gentle fingers that rose to toy with her hair, a soundless, contented vibration settled into the base of her throat, any sound too soft to be heard.

Feeling cool silk curls slip over and through her fingers, Kara let herself enjoy the pure tactile pleasure of new shapes and textures pressed close. She’d never really understood the way some people talked about these things, like they were the whole universe. For the first time, she got it. She could have written sonnets dedicated to how much she wanted this. It was possibly the single best moment she’d had on this world since her arrival. “I think I could spend a lifetime like this,” she sighed happily.

“Mhm,” Cat mumbled, nosing deeper into the curve of her neck.

Smiling, Kara settled her cheek against blonde hair while she continued toying with the golden strands. Even knowing they should probably back off and turn the conversation back to something less incendiary, she couldn’t seem to let go. Instead, she nuzzled Cat’s ear only to stop as she felt a distinct twitch and Cat waved hand with a muttered grumble.

“Tickles,” she complained.

Kara leaned back enough to peer at the other woman as she trailed her thumb along the outer curve of Cat’s ear. The twitch was tiny, but distinct. “Your ear moved,” she said, fascinated

Tipping her chin up, Cat blinked a bit owlishly and was about to explain when Kara spoke.

“You have vestigial motor control of your ears.” She grinned. “Only, like, five percent of people can do that.”

Cat’s brows shot up, then she remembered. Right. Science teacher. “Yeah, Carter too.” It was a good thing to acknowledge, she told herself. If Kara glimpsed anything, she’d just assume it was normal. “When I was a kid, I’d practice, trying to get better at it.” She saw Kara lean to one side, trying to get a better look. “They’re really sensitive though,” she said, glowering just a bit at Kara’s raised hand.

Kara dropped her hand to her side. “Sorry if I...I shouldn’t have...”

Way to ruin a mood. Cat almost growled at her own lack of social skills. “No, it’s okay,” she said quickly, then her shoulders shifted in a small shrug. “I got teased when I was a kid.” As lies went, it was small and untraceable. “Like I said, it fascinated me.” True enough. Unfortunately.

“Well, I think it’s really cool,” Kara said softly, her tone meant to reassure. “Wish I could do it.”  She’d never even heard of such a thing until landing on earth and while she’d read about it in a kid’s biology book, she’d never actually seen it in person. As far as she knew, Kryptonians hadn’t been capable of it.

Cat tipped her head to one side, peering at Kara with a slight frown. “It’s really not a big deal.” Or it wouldn’t have been if it was just the tiny movement possible by a normal human.

Kara shrugged. “I can’t do it.” She craned her neck, still trying to get a look.

Cat had never seen anyone so fascinated by the concept, not even a toddler who’d caught sight of her once when she was tracking Carter that way. The little girl had stared in awe and wanted to know why her mommy couldn’t do that. “It’s very small...just a little bit.”

“It’s unique,” Kara argued.

Cat surprised herself by reaching out and catching Kara’s hand. Her touch light, she guided the taller woman’s hand up to her ear, shivering as her fingertips just barely made contact.

“You don’t have to,” Kara croaked, her mouth suddenly dry. It was such a small thing, just the woman’s ear, by Rao, but her heart was hammering in her chest.

“It’s okay.” Cat couldn’t believe she was doing this, revealing something so intimate, even if it was in such a small way. She was careful, barely flexing the muscles. “They’re ticklish though.”

Kara nodded, outlining the shell of Cat’s ear with a single fingertip, just barely making contact as she felt the tiny movement. She swung her gaze back to meet the green eyes watching carefully, checking to make sure it was okay.

Barely even breathing, Cat saw the question in Kara’s eyes and nodded even as a tiny shiver of awareness slid down her spine. She hadn’t been lying about the sensitivity. What she hadn’t considered, hadn’t even been aware of, was how pleasurable the trailing exploration could be. Without planning, she turned her head toward the light caresses, silently encouraging Kara as she carefully outlined the complex swirls and fondled the ridges between her thumb and forefinger.

Kara felt another tiny twitch and saw green eyes slip closed. Trailing her fingers on, she half scratched, half rubbed the soft skin just behind Cat’s ear, smiling as she felt the flex and pull of delicate muscles.

Her breathing ragged, Cat leaned into the caress.

It was such a small thing, it shouldn’t have been erotic.

Somehow it was.

Then Cat’s hand landed on Kara’s chest, fingers flexing slowly as she tipped her head up, her eyes glazed. “Kara,” she whispered, “I—”

“Mom!” Carter shouted, sounding panicked.

Kara had never seen anyone change gears so fast. Cat blinked, the relaxed haze disappearing in an instant. She spun and was moving while Kara was still registering the boy’s cry. What Kara lacked in response time, she made up for with raw speed, catching up to Cat just as she reached the small livingroom. Remembering herself, Kara hit the brakes, slowing to normal speed as she saw Cat drop to one knee in front of the boy where he sat on the couch, her hands patting him down as she searched for any damage.

No intruders, no blood, but his eyes were wide, his pulse and breathing fast.

“Carter, what?” Cat sounded ready to panic.

He was pointing at the TV. “Isn’t that y—” He verbally stumbled and blinked as he saw Kara. Another blink and he swallowed hard before he continued “—your story? The story you were working on, I mean,” he amended.

Cat twisted, gaze following the line of his arm until she spotted the image on the TV. There was Jacob, looking worn, his arm in a sling, face showing visible bruises. A logo in the corner proclaimed the video ‘Courtesy of the Gotham Observer.’

Inset behind him was a pixilated, black and white security video showing a woman, shapely and all in black sliding sinuously into view from above. As she dropped down, sharply pointed ears were momentarily silhouetted and unmistakable.

Cat froze, unable to do anything but stare as she watched that version of herself decimate three men. Even deeply shadowed and poor quality, there were glimpses of her manic smile visible. Her hand dropped to Carter’s knee, partly to comfort him, partly for her own sake. He knew what she did. While she’d never flaunted it, hiding it had never really been an option either, but she’d never wanted him to see this side of her.

Never really wanted to see it herself either.

Then she was forced out of her daze as she heard an off camera reporter ask, “So why is this so important to you?”

Her stomach rolled, sick with what he’d doubtless say—what Carter would hear—how important it was to expose her, a monster stalking the night, and as she waited to hear the expected answer, it wasn’t even one she could argue with. She’d done plenty of awful things and even that night, she’d been no saint. She’d been there to steal and she’d beaten those men. Even if they were criminals, there was something horrifying about the joy she’d found in taking them down.

“Because this story is going to come out.” Jacob leaned forward, staring into the camera intensely. “That video’s too cool to stay hidden, so I wanted to make sure to get the truth out before someone else controls the message.”

Cat braced herself, firming her grip on Carter as she waited for the damning words.

“Catwoman saved my life,” Jacob declared.

Cat blinked in confusion, uncertain she’d heard right and waiting for the other shoe to drop. It did, just not the way she expected.

“Those men didn’t try to hide their faces,” Jacob continued. “Hurting me was fun for them, but they weren’t trying to intimidate me into silence. They weren’t going to let me go.” He paused long enough to grab a breath. “I was dead if she hadn’t stepped in.”

“Are you certain?” the reporter asked, sounding more curious than skeptical.

“Absolutely. Look, I’m a jeweler’s son and grandson. I’ve heard all the stories about her, but I also grew up in that neighborhood. I know men like that. If she hadn’t helped me, they’d have killed me.”

“According to the police, the men who attacked you say she blackmailed them into it.”

“They’re lying.” There was no doubt in his voice. “They had no idea she was there and thought she’d go down easy at first. Thank god they were wrong.” He straightened, wincing as though the movement hurt. “And I’ll tell you something else, people talk a lot about superheroes in this town. Wonder Woman shows up to escort some ambassador, Superman does his little flybys and whatever cape is wearing the bat-label this week shows up just in time to save some politician or stop some high profile art theft, but they don’t come into my part of town any more than the cops do.”

“You sound bitter.”

“I am. And before you ask, she didn’t steal from me when she got into the safe. I gave her the combination and told her to take that piece. I do a little silver smithing, and it was the only thanks I could give her. It wasn’t worth more than a hundred bucks.”

“Have you been threatened or paid off in any way to say what you have?”  The question was sharply asked enough to make it clear the reporter wouldn’t accept a non answer.

Jacob shook his head and his response carried a fine edge of sarcasm. “I wish. I could use the money, but no, she didn’t pay me or threaten me.” He dismissed the very idea. “I’ll tell you—the cops, anybody who’ll listen—she saved my life. Whatever she did in the past, Catwoman was a goddamned hero, and she gets my thanks, and if she ever needs anything, she only has to ask and I’ll do anything I can to help her.”

As Kara heard the firmly spoken promise all she could think about was how Alex was going to blow a gasket. She actually listened for the howl of rage. Nothing. Maybe she’d taken a pain pill and gone to bed early. Hopefully. Maybe they could give her another one before giving her the news that someone had called her mortal enemy a hero.

Then Cat moved, awkwardly rising to her feet as she gestured to the TV. “Yeah, that’s the story,” she answered Carter’s question. “But I...I-I didn’t know about this. About Catwoman,” she specified. “I interviewed Jacob last week...about his store...his work.”

“Mom?” Carter sounded worried and Kara could see he was ready to hop to his feet by the way his shoulders tensed and his hands braced on the couch.

“I just...I didn’t know they had this footage,” Cat mumbled weakly and gestured at the TV as they reran the security video full screen with Jacob narrating events. “Barbara never mentioned—” she shook her head dazedly “—Catwoman.”

Kara frowned, then realized it had to be rattling to have worked so hard and been left out of the  biggest part of the story. Given her insecurities, that one had to hurt. “Hey, I’m sure it wasn’t intentional,” she soothed and stepped forward. She thought about rubbing Cat’s back only to hold back. It wasn’t the time to risk startling her again. “Everybody probably just got so busy and involved with getting their own work done that they didn’t think to let you know.”

Cat stared for a moment, her brows drawing into a deep frown before she finally nodded. “You’re probably right,”

“I’m sure of it,” Kara stated confidently. She didn’t know Barbara Gordon well, but she’d seen enough to know she didn’t give even the mildest praise lightly. Maybe she’d been different before, but now she was intense and demanding on her most relaxed day. Reaching out, she moved slowly enough for Cat to pull away if she wanted, and settled her hand on a narrow shoulder. Full lips turned up in a proud smile. “And now you’re a part of what will probably be the biggest story to play out in this town for the next year or two.” Gotham wasn’t exactly a boring town, but Catwoman on prowl and playing the hero? Yeah, that was likely to get a lot of play. And that video, that was a viral meme looking to happen.

“Right,” Cat exhaled and seemed to waver on her feet. Her hand floated up near her temple, momentarily shading her eyes. “Biggest story of the year...”

Kara was startled when Cat suddenly reached back and flowed into her arms, wrapping her up in a hard hug. “This is great,” Kara soothed. “Your editor learned she can rely on you and this story will be big. It’ll help put the new business on the map and that can only be good for the people who get in on the ground floor—including you.” Feeling the way Cat’s heart was fluttering too fast to count the beats, Kara ruffled her hair and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Trust me.” She was startled by the strength in the arms wrapped around her torso.

“I want to,” Cat mumbled into the curve of Kara’s shoulder.

Feeling Cat tremble, Kara petted her hair and held her gently even as she resolved to give Barbara holy hell if there was any other explanation. The redhead wasn’t close to Bruce anymore. Dick’s death and her own injuries had left that relationship too damaged for even a pretense of friendship, but they were still family of a sort, and Bruce was still an investor in the paper. Kara was more than willing to use those connections or anything else necessary if it meant protecting the woman in her arms. Hell, she was tempted to do so just because of the way she’d been disregarded and upset.

Still holding Cat and gently ruffling her hair, Kara looked over at Carter. He was still on the couch, his eyes wide, his posture tense. To Kara’s eyes, he looked scared, which made sense. From what Kara had seen, Cat’s usual mien was all calm and confidence. It was probably jarring as hell to see his mom so rattled. “It’s okay,” she mouthed. “She’s just exhausted and stressed, and it’s all caught up with her.” She tried to make her expression as reassuring as possible. “She’ll be okay.”

He nodded, the movement a little jerky, then looked at his mother again before his gaze swung back up to meet Kara’s. “Promise?” he whispered.

“I promise. I’ll look after her.” She kept her voice nearly inaudible and nodded toward the short hallway that led to the bedrooms, comfortably certain Cat wouldn’t want him to see her like this for any longer than necessary.

He thought about it for a moment, then clicked off the TV and gathered up his books.

Cat lifted her head from Kara’s shoulder and met his gaze. “It’ll be okay,” she promised.

He glanced back and forth between the two women. “I know.” That said, he turned a pleading look Kara’s way, then looked back to his mother. “You can trust Kara.” His voice was so soft it was nearly inaudible. Then he slipped out without giving her time to reply.

“Damnit,” Cat growled and stepped out of Kara’s arms to stare after her son. “I scared him.” She muttered a curse under her breath and looked up at Kara. “You too.” Her tone was bitter. “Probably want to run screaming now.”

“Absolutely not.” Her touch gentle, Kara rubbed Cat upper back and shoulder, though she was ready to let go at the slightest resistance. “Running is the last thought on my mind.” She thought about it a moment. “And it seems a little early for any screaming.” The bold flirtation was tacky and deliberately overdone, but it did what it was meant to, distracting Cat enough to earn a watery smile.

“I’m sorry for falling apart on you,” Cat sighed. She rolled her eyes. “Maybe you should run.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Kara said grimly, her expression serious in the face of the startled look Cat cast her way. “I mean it. You got onto me for letting my insecurities rule me. Consider this returning the favor.” She brushed pale gold hair back from Cat’s brow. “You’re amazing, but you’re also exhausted and have had a couple of pretty intense days. Add in our conversation, which I think we can both agree was a little emotional, and some surprising news? Falling apart is perfectly normal.”

“If you want out... if you’ve changed your mind—”

“I haven’t.”

Cat looked up at that, her panic breaking slightly as she stared up at Kara. “Why not?”

It took Kara a beat to decide she was absolutely serious. “Did you not hear me call you amazing?” She framed Cat’s face in her hands to stare into her eyes with solemn intensity. “I haven’t changed my mind about anything.”

“You have to make me a promise.”

“All right.”

“I mean it. I’ve been trapped, Kara. I don’t ever want to do that to someone else. You have to promise me you’ll be honest if you want to walk away—”

“I’m not going to—” Kara tried to wave the entire idea off, but Cat wouldn’t let her.

“Promise.”

“All right.” Kara didn’t understand the desperation, or maybe she wasn’t ready to. “I promise, but I want a promise in return.”

There was a flicker of fear in Cat’s eyes, but she nodded.

“I want you to promise you’ll be honest if you want to stay.”

It took Cat a beat to process the request, then she nodded, mouth turning up into a small smile as the irony struck her. She closed her eyes against the caring directed her way, shaking ever so slightly under a wash of emotion. Her hand found the upper plain of Kara’s chest, palm settling, fingers spreading as she absorbed the gentle thud of her heartbeat.

“Cat,” Kara prompted after a moment.

“I want to stay.” Cat felt the burn of tears threatening. “So much.”

Kara exhaled a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. “Then we’re okay.” Reaching out, she tugged Cat back into her arms and tucked her cheek against pale silk. “Because there’s no place else I want to be.”

* * * * *

Carter heard them talking softly, heard his mom’s voice slowly relax and turn soft, then a few low notes of laughter along with Kara’s light sing-song tones. His mom had been so alone all of his life that seeing her happy with someone was strange and a tiny bit of jealousy pulled at him, but mostly he was grateful.

He could see how she felt about Kara, the way she couldn’t look away, the shy little smiles and the giggles that were nothing like her. And Kara was no better. She’d stare sometimes, hem and haw others, then babble a bit nonsensically.

They were both worse than he was when he got a crush.

But that was okay because he’d seen how kind and caring Kara was and his mom needed that so much. The two of them had always been a team, but he was getting old enough to realize he could only do so much, and she had so much on her. Kara could help her with those burdens in a way he couldn’t.

He wanted that for her, someone who would protect her and keep her as safe as she’d always kept him. Kara could do that.

But with the Catwoman thing, he had to wonder if that future was possible. The whole city would be after her now and in the past, that had always meant running. He listened to their voices as they grew gentler and more openly affectionate and teasing. He didn’t think it was an act, but when his mom was desperate, sometimes it could be hard to tell.

He didn’t know what to do except hope for the best and wait to see what happened next

So he finished his homework, then read until it was time to turn out the lights. Later, he was drowsily aware of voices in the hall and the front door opening and closing again. Sleepy, but curious, he dozed for a bit, finally staggering out of bed when he heard him mom land on the balcony.

She’d shadowed Kara home again. That was the moment he was sure that whatever else was going on, she hadn’t been playing Kara.

He heard the TV moments later. They were still replaying the footage of Catwoman. It ran for several minutes—he could hear the man his mom had interviewed describing the attack—then snapped off and he heard the sliding glass door.

He found her out on the balcony, sitting on the floor with her back against the railing, arms resting on her upthrust knees. She was wearing Kara’s jacket, the collar turned up so it was warm against her cheeks, and he could hear a soft rumble, the rhythm fast enough to indicate stress. She looked up as he stepped out and he could see from the faint glaze in her eyes and the way her head moved as she tracked him, that language would be hard. She could get that way when the feral ran wild, instinct telling her to go to ground. Moving slowly, he sat down next to her, mimicking her pose. They stayed like that for a long time before he finally spoke, trepidation in his voice. “Are we going to run?” He hoped the answer was no. He liked it here. For the first time, the idea of leaving seemed less like a new adventure and more like a loss.

She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes swirling with doubts and fears, but also love and longing. Finally, she shook her head. “No running this time.” The words came slow, but were clearly spoken. She slid an arm across his shoulders and tugged him firmly against her side. “This time, we stay...”

* * * * * *

#Supercat #Cat Grant x Kara Danvers #Kara Danvers #Cat Grant #pinkrabbitpro #Chasing Fog #pinkrabbitpro art #pink rabbit productions #pinkrabbitpro fanart

[ellana-ravenwood]

Costume Party - Jason Todd x Reader (eroticaish)

Another one of those short story (at least shorter than I usually write) cause I don’t have much time before work, but still wanted to write something. Hope you’ll like it, especially you @demigodslytherin (I’ll wrote one with this prompt for Draco or Sirius another time ^^) : 

IMPORTANT WARNING : THERE IS SOME PARTS THAT ARE "EROTICA” ! THIS IS NOT FOR YOU IF YOU ARE UNDERAGED, I GODDAMN MEAN IT. Like there’s cute and sweet feelings in the mix, but also…smut, so if you’re not 18 or more, or if you’re not comfortable with that sort of things etc etc, this story ain’t for you. I have tons of other very SFW story, for averyone to read, and if you wanna check those out instead, it’s right here, on My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives.

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You weren’t fond of parties, and neither was Jason...So it’s a wonder really, how you two ended up here, at one of the biggest costume party of the year. 

Drunk out of your mind. 

You don’t even agree as to how things actually happened. 

You believe that you got dragged to this party by Dick and Barbara, and he thinks you actually came here on your own will after Bruce said he had invitations to it, but had absolutely no intentions on going because it was full of “the youth of Gotham” and he was getting tired of those “20 years old girls and boys that accosted him to hit on him and flirt shamelessly with him, while he was obviously not interested”...besides, he couldn’t go through the hassle of finding a date for that in time, and had important cases to work on. So you took the invites and went in his place...

You were both right. Bruce gave you, Dick and Babs the invitations, but you and Jason didn’t wanna go, wanting a calm date night instead...But of course, his brother and your best friend wouldn’t hear it and indeed dragged you there with them. You grumbled all the way through, and grumbled some more when you arrived at the place and discovered that it was PACKED with people. Oh and the kind of people you disliked : the rich fuckers of Gotham City that thought they were better than anyone else. Not the rich people like Bruce, who genuinely cared about their city and such...No, their sons and daughters, who were born in wealth and thought that it made them the best. Urrh. You hated those guys so much. Coming from a poor neighborhood, they always were so rude to you ! And the number of time you heard that you were dating Bruce Wayne’s son only for his money...

If any of those assholes told you that tonight, you were gonna loose it. Especially since you really didn’t wanna be here. 

The only good thing about that all ordeal, was the fact that it was a costume party, and you loved getting in a costume. Though that particular night you didn’t have much time to actually prepare anything (again, dragged by Dick and Babs), and ended up in a generic princess disguise you had in your closet, while Jason put on a pirate costume. 

Paparazzis took at least a thousand pictures of you, Jason, Dick and Barbara...”Bruce Wayne’s children out with their girlfriends to the biggest costume ball in Gotham” would be the headline of every newspapers the next day. 

You didn’t get it. It was so uninteresting to know that you guys went there, like, who cared ? Apparently, lots of Gotham folks...They loved the pictures especially, so you made sure to give them a show by making stupid and weird faces on each of them. 

Bruce thought it was the most hilarious thing ever, how you hated being a public figure so much...but he also thought it was very cute that you would endure it because you loved his son. He liked you. You and your sass. Also, you were of a calm nature, so he thought it was perfect for Jason, you were able to tame him down most of the time. 

But tonight ? Oh tonight, things went downhill pretty fast, and the first thought you had was : “Oh man, B’s gonna be so disappointed in me !”. Of course, he wasn’t, but you sure weren’t the one that would “tame Jason down” that night. Oh no. You usually never drunk, but because you were so mad about being dragged to this party, you accepted the vodka Dick handed to you and...Oh you were gone so fast.  

It took you and your boyfriend less than an hour to get angry drunk. 

“Angry drunk” was how Dick would call you whenever you got drunk, because it happened rarely, and it happened only when something was displeasing you.

You had made it clear all the way from the Manor to here, you did not want to come, but alright, to make your friends happy...

And so. Here you were. Disguised as a Princess, clinging to your boyfriend’s arm as so not to fall, in a place full of...people. Ew. 

A few girls tried to approach Jason, but each time, he answered them by kissing you passionately, and making everyone around you two awkward. When some guys came to flirt with you though, as Jason was getting more drinks, you had to call Dick and Babs screaming “EMERGENCY” for them to come and help you stop Jay to jump on those men. 

He yelled at them a few : “MY GIRLFRIEND ! MINE !” and then turned to you and...oh his drunk self was always so sappy. 

-I love you (Y/N), my sweet, precious, beautiful (Y/N). Please spent your life with me ? 

He pulled you into a hug, and you chuckled, because your drunk self was just as cheesy and with a kiss on his nose you said : 

-I love you too Jay. My handsome, way too tall, cute Jay. 

-Cute ? 

-Cute. 

-I’m not cute, I’m tough...

-...and dangerous. Sure my favorite teddy bear. 

-...Oh you asked for it ! 

And as if you two were the only people in the world, he started to tickle mercilessly, making you laugh way too loudly...and somehow, that tickle fight turned into slow dancing. 

Really, you two when drunk were impressive. 

Oh but here, in his warm embrace, was your favorite place in the world, and you probably would have fell asleep if he didn’t start to kiss your neck...

And boom, you two ended up in the toilets, making-out. 

It was one of those fancy “private toilets” thing, where each toilets had their own little water room and all...and you definitely took advantaged of it. Though your drunk selves struggled a bit, you still remember how sweet and adoring he made love to you...Even though it was in the toilets. 

-Have I told you I love you today ?

He asked while filling you slowly, thrusting up and down tenderly.

-Yes. 

-Oh. 

-So you’re not gonna say it again ? 

-It would loose its meaning if I say it too often. 

-Of course. I l...tolerate you. 

-I tolerate you too. Oh, and to Hell with it, you know I always mean it and always will : I love you (Y/N) (Y/L/N). 

-Fancy that, cause I love you too Jason Todd. 

-Great. You’re my princess. 

-I’m not a princess I’m a fearless pirate ! 

-I thought I was the one that was the pirate...

-You only have the costume, deep down, you’re a..

-Princess.

The fit of laughter that took over you and Jason right in that minute was probably heard all throughout the venue, and people were probably wondering what you guys were up to...they totally thought you were having sex in there, and here they hear loud giggles...That quickly turned into moans. Oh ok, so you were having sex. 

************

You don’t really remember who’s ideas it was but...Somehow, along the way, you ended up switching costumes. 

When you put your clothes back on, you took the pirate costume, he took the princess one...you were wearing an overgrown pirate costume (Jason was quite a giant compare to you), and he was wearing a princess dress way too small for him, and a tiara. Of course. 

When you got out of the bathroom, thankfully, the first people you met were Dick and Babs, and not paparazzis. The oldest Wayne boy, looking his brother up and down, calmly said : 

-What the fuck ? 

You shrug, and Jason says : 

-I don’t know. I’m her princess. 

Laughing some more, you slump yourself against him for support, and your eyepatch, which is also too big, slips from your eye and cover your mouth, which of course, makes you laugh more. 

Jason giggles like a schoolboy, and..Yeah. Right. You two are drunk. You’re always the most hilarious people when drunk. Dick and Babs look at each other, rolling their eyes to the ceiling, and spent the rest of the night making sure no one takes picture of you. Good brother and best friend. 

But of course, something happen. Something always happen. When you go out with Jason, things never go smooth. At some point, he either gets in a fight, or your sass get the both of you in trouble and..he gets in a fight. 

And the problem of today ? His princess dress. 

He’s way taller than you. Way larger too. His muscles are ridiculous. And of course...the costume starts to rip as you and him dance like crazy people in the middle of the venue. And of course, because this is a fancy pants party full of fancy pants people, it isn’t “right” that one of the guest is dancing half naked (though you know everyone is lying when they say it made them uncomfortable...your boyfriend has a very attractive body, and instead of getting jealous at the women flirting with him, you just smiled at them, kissed him, and basically showed them that they had absolutely no chance, and the way he only looked at you, with eyes full of love and adulation, convinced them all to just drop it). 

A security guard came to the both of you to tell you Jason has to wear more clothe and your boyfriend’s response is what sprout the troubles : 

-Bitch please have you seen me ? I’m a princess. 

And of course you two had to fall on the ONLY security guard of the place that was super short tempered. The man didn’t even think twice, and started to grab Jason to throw him out...nice try. 

Jason threw him across the room (it was a reflex really, someone grabbed at him aggressively, he throws him across the place), but before it could really turn into a fight, Dick and Babs jump in and drag the both of you through a back door, where a car waits for you guys. 

Alfred. Oh the Wayne’s savior. Dick and Barbara throws the both of you in the car, and tells the butler that they’ll get home on their own, going to Babs’ place. With a “be careful” he drives home. 

And oh Alfred is too old to cary Jason (or you) to his bed, and so he leaves the both of you behind the car, asleep in each others’ arms...and as he gets into the kitchen to fix something for Bruce to eat when he’ll come back from patrol, he also make his miracle “hangover eraser” and leaves it for you and Jason on the kitchen counter. 

************

You’re the first to wake up. With a searing migraine. 

As you tear yourself out of his embrace, Jason opens his eyes too and...Oh no, he closes them right away. Too bright. Everything is too bright. 

You two manage to drag yourself to the kitchen, and God bless Alfred and his miracle “hungover eraser”, you drink it all up (God it’s disgusting) and just stay there, half-asleep, looking more like undeads than anything else. 

You thank Alfred as he comes in to cook some breakfast for you and Bruce, and he just smiles at you two. 

When Bruce comes down to take his breakfast, he stops and just stares at you...With a very confused look on his face he asks :

-...What the Hell happened to you two ? 

Yes. You do really look like zombies.

Also, you’re wearing a pirate costume that’s too big for you, and the chocolate mustache Jason drew on you during the party smeared all over your face, as if you dumped your head into a chocolate cake mix. 

Oh and, Jason is wearing half a princess’ dress. 

The look you both give him, empty, blank, makes Bruce understand that, well, that must have been a Hell of a party. He almost regrets not going. 

Almost, because clearly, it had been a Hell of a party because you were together, probably, alone it wouldn’t have been the same...and as you starts to fall asleep on his son’s shoulder, and he lays his head on yours, slumping an arm around across your back to give you more support..He knows he’s right. 

___________

Written in 7 minutes. It’s pretty shit. But it’s a short shit so it’s ok (if that even makes sense). I’m gonna write more of those “fast short stories”, cause I have a few sentence starters that I want to just write short things with compare to my usual long shit and IMMA SHUT UP NOW. 

#Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd imagine #Jason Todd reader insert #Red Hood x reader #Red Hood imagine #red hood fanfic #Red Hood reader insert #Jason Todd fanfic #BEST ROBIN #fight me on that #Jason Todd will always be my favorite #Dc reader insert #boom #Nightwing imagine #Richard Grayson imagine #Barbara Gordon imagine #Batgirl imagine #Alfred Pennyworth imagine #Bruce Wayne imagine

[ellana-ravenwood]

“You could have anyone” - Bruce Wayne x Chubby!Reader

Annnnnnnd I’m back with a new story after almost a week off (and evidently  I forgot how to fucking write...meh). I hope you guys will like it, as usual, feedbacks and such are welcome :-) : 

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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You’re still unsure how you got the job. 

Someone like you, so unfashionable and plain (with quite a bit of extra pounds on...) shouldn’t be the famous Bruce Wayne’s assistant. 

Sometimes, when he received important and rich people in his office, you were almost ashamed to show them the way...Not ashamed of yourself. Not at all. To be honest, you had been teased on your weight and such enough in school to not care anymore. 

No, you weren’t ashamed of yourself in front of such fancy people...you were ashamed for Mr. Wayne. 

How could he let someone like you be the first thing his clients and partners would see ? Surely, it gave them the wrong idea about the man, like he wasn’t classy enough or something, if his assistant was...You. 

Or maybe he chose you because he thought people would think he was nice to give you such a great job, you, a nobody from the Narrows, the poor little orphan. Maybe they thought he was charitable to give you, a bland and simple person, a taste of the lavish and fancy lifestyle they all lived ?

You didn’t really know how it happened. But one thing for sure...you were definitely his assistant. 

Little did you know that, on the day he gave you the job interview, you made quite an impression on him. 

************

Two years ago : 

Stress. You were nothing but stress. It was your fourth interview of the week to get a new job, and definitely the one you were the most stressed about. I mean, so far, you had an interview to work in a supermarket, two to work in a fast-food, and one to be a waitress in a shitty diner...Oh my God why did you even apply to this job ? It was so out of your league ! 

You felt underdressed just sitting in this more than fancy waiting rooms. Like for real, the seats were covered in wonderful red velvets, and you were pretty sure there were real Picasso and Monet paintings on the walls...

Besides, you weren’t the only one waiting to get an interview with the famous Bruce Wayne, and the other candidates were...Well. 

They were out of this World. 

They were some of the most beautiful women you ever seen. 

...What were you doing here ? It was clear you wouldn’t get the job.

But damn the way they were looking at you, you and your used woman suit you bought in a thrift shop, made you want to slap them, and just to spite them, and though it was quite obvious you didn’t stand a chance, you didn’t leave. 

Of course, you were the last one to be called by the very handsome Mr. Wayne (seriously though, why did he have to look that good ? He was one of the best thing that ever happened to Gotham and it’s disadvantages inhabitants, such as you. He was smart, a genius. Billionaire. And the most handsome man you ever met). So when you entered his huge office, with windows showing you the best side of Gotham, and not the dirty gutters you were coming from, you were more stressed than ever, and afraid to simply throw up on him because of it...

He was such a gentleman. He didn’t make any comment about how different you looked compared to the other candidates. He didn’t even seem slightly surprised. He just smiled at you, of his extremely charming smile, and gestured for you to sit down. 

-Well hello Miss...(Y/L/N) is that it ? 

-Hum...Yes. Helluuw. 

Why ? WHYYYY ?! Why did you have to say “hello” in such a weird way ? You were ready to run out of his office, when you noticed his smile widening, and becoming almost genuine. There was a small silence, and strangely, it wasn’t an awkward one at all. He breaks it with his deep and soothing voice :

-So. Miss (Y/L/N), I have just one question for you...Why did you even bother to apply to be my personal assistant ? 

You stiffened. Oh. Maybe not so much of a gentleman. You narrowed your eyes at him a bit, not able to control yourself. Years of bullying in school had turn you into a “come back master”. 

Before he could say anything else you just tell him :

-A bit blunt of you, don’t you think, to say such a thing. Surely, a man as refined as you could find better words to tell me I don’t fit what he’s looking for ? It’s not because I’m clearly not up your standards that you gotta be rude...And it’s not because your name is “Wayne” that you’re allowed to be that condescending. 

You think it must not be often, that Bruce Wayne is surprised. You can’t help the small smirk installing itself on your lips at his stunned expression.

He shakes his head a bit, and smiles. Uh...What ? 

-Oh you misunderstood me Miss (Y/L/N), you misunderstood me greatly. I would never dare insult a woman such as you...

You feel uncomfortable as his gaze locks with yours, and his intense blue eyes do not leave your (E/C) orbs...What did he mean, a woman “such as you” ? 

-...No no. I was talking about your C.V. You have diplomas to become a lawyer ! And judging by the birth date you put on there, you’re actually quite young to already have such a diploma ! 

You shift on your chair, a bit embarrassed. It’s true that you finished law school with a few years in advance...school always been easy for you. But you hated to talk about it. You hated to talk about anything good about yourself really...Which is why you didn’t even look for an opening in a law firm, or as a lawyer or something. You thought you didn’t deserve it for some reasons...After clearing your throat, you make up an excuse, and you’re almost sure he knows you’re bullshitting him but whatever right ? You won't get the job anyway : 

-Hum yes...Well, because I’m younger than most, people don’t take me seriously so hum...I wasn’t able to find a job as a lawyer. 

-Oh ? I can’t imagine that Gotham doesn’t need more people like you.

-Well apparently, it doesn’t haha. Because hum...Well I didn’t find a job in my branch. So...So here I am. 

-So here you are. 

-Yeah...hum, I mean. Yes. 

His eyes are still on you, your C.V in his right hand...He smiles some more and say : 

-Ok well. Let’s start this interview then. Why do you want to be my assistant ? What’s your motivation ? 

That was an easy question. You don’t hesitate : 

-Because I admire you greatly. 

He raises an eyebrow, and you would have blush if you noticed and interested he actually was in what you had to say...but you don’t notice and keep going : 

-You see, the reason I was able to get into good schools was you Mr. Wayne. You and your scholarship. I’m...hum...I’m from the Narrows. I don’t have to tell you how poor this neighborhood is...Especially when you’re an orphan like me but that’s another story. Your funds saved me. Gave me a chance to have something else in life than just crime. Gave me a choice. And you do that for so many people in Gotham that I can only admire you. I just finished my studies and I’m trying to find a job...Of course I’d answer an ad talking about being the great Bruce Wayne’s assistant. It’d be a great honor. Besides, I feel like I would be able to learn a lot at your contact. You’re one of the busiest person in Gotham, seeing you interact with people...Well, you know. It can only be beneficial to me and all of that and...yes. That’s why I’d like to work for you. Besides, my coffee is killer. 

You finish your little speech, and finally you’re really looking at him, not just talking anymore. And you blush a bit. Damn, why does he have to be so intense ? His eyes pierce through you. And once again, you shift awkwardly on your seat. A small smile tugs at his lips, and it’s a genuine and beautiful smile. He bends his head on the side, still looking at you, and you can feel the heat rising to your face. You’re sure to be ridiculously red and you’re about to take your leave when...His next work almost make you faint : 

-When can you start ? 

************

And here you were, two years later, the assistant to the famous Bruce Wayne. You somewhat gain some fame of yours too. 

The tabloids talked about you...At first, they talked about you seemed unfit to the job, coming to work in jeans and geeky t-shirts (at the beginning you were coming in dresses and women suits...but you didn’t had a lot of those so...when Mr. Wayne told you to just come as you wanted, he didn’t had to say it twice. The smile on his face when you arrived with jeans, converses and a t-shirt that read : “I believe in Sherlock Holmes” was one of the most beautiful you ever seen). Then they talked about your look a little more (the dreaded subject of your weight...)...Until they stopped (unknowing to you, Bruce had made a stop to the newspapers offices to make sure such articles wouldn’t be released anymore). 

And like a miracle, after a few months working with Bruce Wayne, articles about how fierce and witty you were started to pop out. 

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Bruce Wayne’s personal assistant, escorted out Oswald Cobblepot after he tried to come in Mr. Wayne’s office by force. Reportedly, the young woman didn’t even have to use violence, as she just talked him out of it...according to witnesses, her words are as sharp as a sword !” 

You became somewhat famous for your “I don’t give a shit about your opinion” persona, and the way you’d never let anyone walk on your feet, no matter what. Hey, so many people bullied you in High School, you were done with this now. 

Also how faithful you were to Mr. Wayne. You’d never divulge personal informations about him (and god only knew how much bribed you received for such infos), and you always defended him. But of course you would defend him like so, because he was always defending you too ! 

Once, you surprised a conversation he was having with one of those supermodel who were like leech, always on his back...She was talking about how bad it looked for him to have someone like you as his assistant...He told her off. Said you were wonderful. And sent her back her way. You never saw her again...

Yes. You gained a little reputation of your own, to Bruce’s great delight. You didn’t mind much, at least, it was a nice change that people weren’t talking about you because how plain you looked, and because of your weight...

************

It was Wayne Inc’s Christmas party, and against your better judgement, you came. Last year’s party was a disaster (your clumsy self had an unfortunate run in with a huge cake...), and the year before that ? Even worst...And yet, here you were. 

You had to admit though, you were there only because of your boss, only because of Bruce Wayne. 

He had bought you such a beautiful dress for that evening, that fitted you marvelously, and had told you : “hope to see you there”...you just couldn’t resist. He always gave you great gift...of course, as his personal assistant you often worked long hours and never complained, so he always gave you nice little (or not so little) gifts and such. 

You knew he was only being polite. That whenever it seemed like he was flirting with you (which was a lot), it was just him being nice...Actually, maybe the flirting was in your head. Maybe he was just genuinely friendly and that’s it. Why were you there ? It was dumb to think you’d have any chance, and to come only for him was idiotic...and yet, here you were, in the dress he gave you, wishing to see him. 

He was there alright...with an incredibly good looking woman at his arm. An incredibly good looking woman who looked down upon you with disdain when your boss came to greet you (unfortunately he couldn’t stay long, he had so many people to see and to talk to...naturally, you understood). 

You knew no one else in the company but him, so you stayed on a side, drinking, and you were about to leave when...

-(Y/N) right ?

You turn around. It was Mike something from accounting. 

He was relatively new, and you never spoke to him before...Evidently, he didn’t know your reputation yet. The main reason you never spoke to anyone, and no one ever dared to speak to you, was because you never took anyone’s shit, and would humiliate people who were rude to  you with your wits and sarcasms. 

Apparently, no one briefed Mike from accounting. 

-Yes. And you’re...hum...Mike. Right ? 

-Oh you know my name ? 

-I know everyone’s name. It’s my job to keep track of things like this. For Mr. Wayne. 

-You know everyone’s name ? 

-Yup. 

-Everyone. Like...Everyone in the company ? 

-Yeeees. 

-For real ? 

-If I’m telling you so. 

-That’s impressive ! 

-Is it ? 

-(Y/N), we’re thousands working for Mr. Wayne ! And you remember all of us ? 

-Yes...

-Impressive ! 

You blush slightly, and smile. You didn’t know that, but your smile could melt anyone’s heart. You were so insecure that you never even realized how attractive your aura was to people around. And Mike from accounting was no exception. You had to admit too that, he was rather attractive. He smiled back at you, and said : 

-Do you want anything to drink ? Champagne maybe ? 

But before you could say anything, a huge silhouette darkened everything around you...Oh. Of course. Bruce Wayne. He was so much bigger than everyone that he hid the lights. 

-Miss (Y/L/N) doesn’t like champagne, I suggest you get her...bourbon or something strong like that. 

Mike’s eyes open wides at the presence of his boss, and, mumbling something about bourbon and about how great Bruce was, he leaves to the open bar. You turn to look up at Bruce, and blush a bit at the intensity of his eyes (as usual, he always looks at you in such a way...). 

-How is your night (Y/N) ? 

He has been using your first name for quite a while now. You, however, still had some difficulties not calling him “Mr. Wayne” or “sir”. He was just so intimidating...though when around you, he often smiled and was nicer overall. Of course, it probably didn’t have anything to do with you, it’s just that, in your presence, a woman that was from the plebe, he had less pressure and could be a bit more himself, he knew a nobody like you couldn’t even think about judging a man like him...Hence, he smiled more. 

-Alright, thank you Mr. Wayne. 

-I told you a thousand times, call me Bruce. 

You nod awkwardly and look around him to see where Mike has gone. He notices, and frowns a bit (though you don’t see his frown as when you look back up at him, he has his usual unreadable expression again). 

-You don’t have to lie to me (Y/N) you know. 

-Hum...What ? I would never...

-Oh please, it is obvious you do not like the party. You do not enjoy it. 

You shift on your feet, embarrassed, but before he can add something, a screeching voice resonates in the place : 

-Oh here you are Brucie. Come on, we gotta go see...

You don’t even know what she says, as she takes away Bruce, and Mike comes back with your drink. Bruce’s date took him with her, though his gaze is still on you, and you find yourself unable to look away even as though Mike gives you the drink he went to fetch for you. 

Could it be that...the way he looks at you, how disappointed he looked that he had to leave...Could it be that ? And the way he came to you only when you started to talk to Mike...could it be that...that all the flirting actually meant something ? No. No that was ridiculous. Wishful thinking. Utterly dumb. 

What would Bruce Wayne do with a fat and plain girl like you ? ...

************

Mike’s conversation was awful. Oh God so bad. 

You managed to escape his grasp (as you two were drinking more and more, he was getting a bit too touchy feely...you managed to see Bruce, with the corner of your eyes, often looking your way while he was talking to more important people than you), and flee to one of the balcony. 

You loved Wayne Tower’s balconies. Stone balcony with gargoyles on the side. Giving you a great view of Gotham. You loved it. 

You were slumped on the barrier of the balcony, when you heard footsteps behind you...Startled, you turned around, and tripped on your heels. 

A strong pair of arms caught you, and you couldn’t help the soft sigh escaping you as you realized who it was. 

-Mr. Wayne. 

-Bruce. 

-Bruce. 

-Finally ! 

-Sorry, I’m a bit drunk Mr. Wayne. 

-Bruce. And yes, I saw you drink a lot with Mike. 

-It was the only thing helping me going through his awful conversation. 

-Awful conversation ? 

-Yes, he only talked about cars, and numbers, accounting stuffs. Awful. 

The chuckle he lets out makes you melt, and, realizing your still in his arms, you take a few steps back. 

-Hum. Where is your date ? 

-Oh, she had to...go home early. Something about having a shoot early next morning. 

-Right. Supermodels and their hectic lives haha. 

-Yes...

He smiles at you, and you smile back. It always felt so natural between the two of you, as if you knew each other since childhood (though when he was a child, when his parents died, you were but a tiny baby...not fat yet). 

And unlike with Mike, the conversation started to flow...so much that, at some point, you blurt out, for reasons you forgot instantly : 

-You know Mr. Wayne, I used to have a crush on you ! 

-Bruce. 

-You know Bruce, I used to have a crush on you ! 

You blush at the look he gives you...and in the haziness of your drunkeness, you can’t pinpoint if he’s pleased or disgusted. 

-Used to ? 

-Well, yes. 

-What made you stop have a crush on me ? 

-Reality. Knowing you’d never notice me ! 

-And yet here I am, talking to you. 

-Yeah...Well, knowing you’d never notice me in that way ! 

-I came here to look for you. To make sure you were ok. 

-That’s very nice of you. 

The meaning of his words just fly over your head, and you look away from him, embarrassed at your sudden declaration...

He takes your chin in his calloused (calloused ? Why did he have calloused hands ?) hands and turns your head to look at him. Wow, he was way closer than you thought...

-I came here to look for you. 

-Yes you already said that Mr. Wayne. 

-Bruce. 

-Bruce. 

-I came here to look for you. 

-Third time now, I’m beginning to think you have a problem and...

-You don’t understand. No, that’s not quite right. It’s not that you don’t understand, it’s that you don't even fathom why I’m actually here. 

-...I must admit, you lost me a bit Mr. Wayne. 

-Bruce. 

-Bruce. You lost me. 

-I can see that...I’m here...For you. 

-That’s nice. 

-Oh my, so intelligent and yet so dense. 

You narrow your eyes at him, and turn your head to look into his eyes. Oh. Yes. Very close.

-When I say I’m here for you, I mean I’m here because I wanted to see you. To talk to you. I’m sorry I didn’t have time before to come to you but...well, you know, social obligations. 

-I know. Or rather, I don’t, I don't have any social obligations. 

-And yet you’re here. 

-Only because of you.

He smiles, and you realize what you just said. You take a few steps back, but he catches your hand, stopping you from going away. 

-I’m glad. 

You frown. 

-What are you doing Mr. Wayne ? 

-Bruce. 

-Bruce. What are you doing ? 

-What do you mean (Y/N) ?

-I don’t play games. 

-Who said I was playing games ? 

-You act like you act around those supermodels. You act...weird. And charming. And...Weird. 

-I believe you said “weird” twice. 

-I don’t play games Bruce. 

-That too you said twice. And damn, I have to make you mad for you to call me Bruce. 

How did he know you were mad ? Well, it was quite obvious really. It was written all over your face. You weren’t happy at all. And you weren’t happy because you thought he was pulling your legs. How could he actually want to be with you, to talk to you, while all those great, rich and famous people are out there ? 

He wants to say something else, and he’s getting even closer but...you don’t let him. You snatch your arm out of his large hand, and take the few steps back you wanted to take. Your mad expression who turned hurt, makes his heart tightens. 

Once again, his reputation precedes him. He was sure that the main reason you didn’t believe him was because everyone genuinely thought he was a womanizer. He was a “playboy”, known to have a different supermodel/actress/ singer/etc etc...at his arm every new public event. 

He wished you knew him in another light though. You knew him more than most (only Alfred knew more about him really), and more often than not, he showed you his real you...but his public figure was always overshadowing everything. Even you, a smart woman, heard rumors...no, you saw him with different women (hell you even bought gift for them when he didn’t have time to do so, which was often). 

He looks away from you, and...is it “hurt” you can see on his face ? 

As usual, it seems you can just read his mind and you know what he’s thinking. Of course you know. You have to tell him that he’s wrong though. That you don’t believe him because of how you are, not because of how he is. 

You turn to him and say : 

-It’s not because of the other girls by the way...Well it kind of is, but not like you think it is. ...I’m terrible at explaining. 

-Please do. I’m not sure I understand. ...Let me just say, you know me (Y/N), more than others, really, you’re the only one that...I never thought to meet anyone like you alright ? To find someone to whom I wish to tell every desire and secrets I hold...

He pauses there. He’s not ready yet to tell you he’s the Batman, but he wants to. For the first time in his life, he really wants to. Not yet, but soon. It all depends on how this night will go really...But he knows he can trust you. Besides, he’s pretty sure you already have your doubts, but are too faithful and polite to say anything. 

In front of a very stunned you, and with a half-smile on his face, he continues : 

-There is no need to wear a mask in your presence. And though that should make me feel at my most vulnerable, I find that it only gives me strength. 

You don’t really know what to say...You just listen to him. You two are now incredibly close, and you shiver when you feel his hand going on yours. At your lack of response, he keeps going : 

-I’m sorry to assume anything. I mean because you always answer to my flirting I thought...But I see maybe I was wrong. 

He takes his hand off of yours...but you catch it. 

-Now you’re the one that is dense. 

It seems he cannot resist tangling his fingers with yours, and your heart suddenly picks up its pace. It’s even worst when he takes your hand to his lips, and softly kisses your knuckles.

-How am I dense ?  

-You...What...You...What are you saying Mr. Wa...Bruce ? 

-What am I saying ? 

-Yes. 

-I’m saying I like you (Y/N). And I’m more and more worried that you...might not feel the same towards me. 

He...He likes you ? No. It can’t be. He must be lying. It’s not his thing to be that cruel usually though...But. No, he must be lying. He can’t like someone like you. 

Little did you know that yes, he was indeed lying. He didn’t like you. He loved you. But given the face you were already making, and how he could hear your heart beat...it was maybe a bit too much telling you he was in love with you.

That he loves you like he never loved anyone before..Yes, it was probably too much. He didn’t want you to faint. 

You finally raises your eyes to look at him, and with a weak voice you say :

-Do you really think I...I don’t like you...I mean I do answer your flirting but I didn’t know it was actually flirting because...I don’t know...I...I...You could have anyone Bruce. Anyone. And you’d choose me ? This is just impossib...

His mouth on yours are a sure way to make you shut up. To erase all of your insecurities. The softness of his lips is the best thing you ever tasted. His arms wrapping around your waist and bringing you flush against his body makes you dizzy. One of his hand goes from the small of your back all the way up to cup your cheek, and his skin on the exposed one of your back (you hesitated to put the dress Bruce bought for you because it was so tight, and most of your back was exposed but...well, it did fit you really well. Bruce knew what to get you so your body would be at its best) makes you shiver. 

You flung your arms around his neck and bring him even closer. He has to bent down a lot to reach you, even though you’re on your tiptoe, and ends up just  loosing patience because he doesn’t have the access to your mouth he wants, and lifting you up on the balcony’s rail.  Now that you’re sitting higher up, it’s definitely better...

He washes away any remnant of your fears about not being good enough when his tongue gently swipes over your lips, demanding access...that you gladly gives him. 

Everything around you disappear. It’s just you and him there. 

You already saw him kiss the women he’d take out, his “dates”, and he was not nearly as passionate as this. Actually, it wasn’t passionate at all. It was quite robotic. As if he just did what he had to do...While with you ? It genuinely seemed like he meant everything he said. 

Finally, the need for hair is getting too strong, and you pull away from him. He doesn’t let go of you though (and you’re sure glad to be in some kind of haze right now, because he’s holding you, sure, but behind you is quite the fall down on Gotham streets...). He licks his lips, as if to keep your taste their, and smiles. 

-Convinced ? 

He asks. During the kiss, for those slight seconds, you did believe him. But now...How could it be ? What kind of game was he playing ? But before you can say anything, he reads every insecurities on your face...and kisses you again. When you pull away, he says : 

-I’m just going to keep kissing you until you believe me. 

You’re about to say something, but decide to actually kiss him again, because it does work quite well for your self-esteem. Kissing the most wanted bachelor of Gotham. Yup. 

You pull away once more, and he smiles...And it’s not his kisses that starts to convince you that he might say the truth, but the most tender gesture ever. 

He raises his hand to your face, and put one wild strand of hair behind your ear, and kisses your forehead. His hand then goes to cup your cheek again, and settling himself between your legs, he just brings your head against him, squeezing your face on his strong chest, where his heart is beating. 

You’re surprised to find it beating wildly. You’re pretty sure it beats even faster than yours...Again, how can this be ? His voice rumbles in his chest, making your entire being vibrating. You shiver once more, and when you feel your belly fat moving a bit your insecurities come swarming back full force...but he doesn’t let it happen. His hands are caressing your back up and down, pinching lovingly your skin there and there. He brings your arms around his neck, and put his forehead against yours. 

-I don’t understand...

You say. Is this a dream ? 

-What don’t you understand ? 

-Why me ? 

-Because you make me feel alive. With you I don’t have to be someone else. You don’t judge, and you speak your mind. And you’re so, so beautiful.

-Beaut....Now I know you’re mocking me. 

You say, pulling away from him, and almost falling down to your death. 

-Wow careful there...My gorgeous lady. 

Of course he catches you. With his damn strong arms. A bit nervous, you wrap your hands around his bicep (well to be honest your hands are too small to wrap around them) and look at him...On his face, you can only see a genuine smile, and in his eyes...Love and awe ? Wow. 

-What can I do for you to believe me ? Truly ? Besides kissing you of course. As much as I want to do that every waking hour of my life, I can’t actually do it so...

You smile weakly, letting one of your hand slide from his neck to his chest, where you rest it, above his heart. 

-I just don’t understand. 

-What don’t you understand ? 

-Just...you like me ? A nobody ? Me and my extra pounds ? Really ? 

He roll his eyes to the sky, and nods.

-Yes. And I’ll tell you every day if I have to. 

-...Me ? Chubby (Y/N) ? For real ? 

-For once and for all, yes. 

There’s a small silence, before he continues : 

-Besides, I love chubby. Gives me something to hold on. 

His winks is the sexiest you ever saw, and his comment makes you blush like crazy. To hide your blush and erase the damn smug look on his face, you kiss him once more. Fiercely. With passion. And when you pull away, he’s the one that look hazy, a bit in a dazed, as if he just woke up from the most wonderful dream. He sees you looking curiously at him, and says, before kissing you too : 

-I like you, miss (Y/L/N). 

-I like you too, Mr. Wayne. 

-Bruce. 

-Yes...Bruce...

You say in a whisper, before his lips are on yours again. 

You both don’t notice the photographer behind you taking a picture. The next day, there will be hundredth of newspaper and such talking about how Bruce Wayne’s personal assistant might become something more...Or is it just a phase ? Because after all, a woman like you with a guy like him ? It couldn’t last could it ? 

************

Ten years later, waking up in your comfy king sized bed, wrapped in wonderful silk sheets, you cannot help but feel the happiest woman in the world. 

You’re in your husband’s arms...but not only. There’s two boys resting their heads on your belly. Dick and Jason. One little head is also on one of your arms. Tim. Finally, the last one is comfortably settled in the crook of your neck, half his body on you and his brothers, the other half on his father’s head (Bruce was gonna wake up grumpy). 

Your boys. They loved to sneak in the bedroom early in the morning (though “early” at the Wayne households was 4 pm), and come to cuddle against you (their father ? Not so much, being an only child, he sometimes had difficulties to share). Because your arms was the most comfortable place in the world. Just like their dad, they loved everything about you, loved you for you...And most of all, they damn loved your little chubiness, because it made cuddling with you the best thing ever. 

The End ?

______________

I’m extra unsure about that one. Are their relationship believable ? Like did I rush anything ? Did I not make them close enough for them to feel that way ? I’m so afraid it’s not believable and stuff. I hope you liked it but..Yeah, super unsure. Especially since some of you seemed excited about this story ? I hope I didn't disappoint...OH MY GOD I’M GONNA RUN AND HIDE !!  

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[ellana-ravenwood]

The Bat(mom) Glare - Batmom x Batfamily

Summary : Everyone feels a bit...uneasy when Batmom gives them that glare.

I know I said the next fic would be about a jealous Bruce, but I had a dream last night about this story down there, and just had to write it, hoping it’s not too bad, hoping you’ll like it. As usual feedbacks are welcome ! Here : 

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

________________________________________________

It was at the very beginning of your relationship with Bruce that you discovered your “superpower”. Before that, you never really noticed, even though it was already there...No, it really was about four months in dating the Batman that you truly realized this capacity of yours. 

You had been friend with Bruce for years, and you knew about his nightly activities since quite a while...So when he told you you two shouldn’t be together anymore because it was dangerous, you couldn’t help but sarcastically laugh and give him your best “really ?” face. 

What, all those years it wasn’t dangerous and all of a sudden, as your relationship started to get serious, it became life threatening ? 

You remember him scoffing at you, saying it had nothing to do with you and him getting “serious”, while you perfectly knew it had everything to do with it. 

Words were useless to convince him, he was such a stubborn man, and he wouldn’t listen...So you just stared at him. Glared at him. You did not turn your gaze away, you did not leave like he told you to. 

You ignored Alfred and his sorry look, when he told you to follow him out of the batcave. You ignored Bruce when he started yelling at you to leave. You just glared at him, you kept your eyes on his silhouette. Until he said : 

-Stop looking at me like that. 

You didn’t stop. Because all of this was bullshit. Because he was pushing you away for a stupid reason. Because you knew he was doing it only cause he was afraid to get too close from someone and loose them too, like he lost his parents...So you just kept staring, glaring, without saying a word. 

-Stop (Y/N), please.

He tried to keep his composure for a long time. Damn stubborn man. 

Only, on that day, he realized that you were way more stubborn than he’ll ever be. Only, on that day, he realized, as your eyes wouldn’t leave his form, he could not go on without you. But he still resisted. For appearances maybe ? Or maybe he thought you’d eventually give up. You did not. You would never give up on him, he just had to deal with it. 

-Stop...stop looking at me like that...(Y/N)...please...

His voice was cracking. You had won. He knew it. You knew it. Because the reason he was pushing you away was bullshit. Being around him was dangerous ? Well big deal, leaving in fucking Gotham was dangerous anyway ! So you stared at him, glared at him, until he gave up. 

He needed you. Your support. Your presence. He knew it, you knew it. And under your intense gaze, he realized just to what extend he loved you. 

Love ? Yes. Yes it was definitely that. An intense, deep, unbreakable bond had always existed between you...and the day he finally asked you out, it became stronger than ever. No, he would not pushing you away because things were “dangerous”. You wouldn’t let him. So you stared, and he realized...

He realized just how doomed he was because of how much in love he was with you. Too damn much, probably...But it was a good kind of curse. He was glad to be doomed of loving you...

You stopped glaring at him when he fell into your arms, all his tough and emotionless demeanor gone. You stopped glaring at him once you knew he understood. You weren’t going anywhere. Period. At least, not until he’d stop loving you (which he knew would never happen. Could never happen. Hell, he was the one afraid you’d be tired of his shit and leave...But you’d never leave). 

On that day, he realized how much you meant to him, and you realized that you had magic eyes. If, with a simple glare, you could crack even the great Batman...Yup, you discovered your “superpower” the day Bruce understood you were the one and only. The love of his life. 

****************

Of course, most of the time, the use of your “magical eyes” wouldn’t be in such intense moments, wouldn’t be to convince your now husband that you’d never leave him, no matter what.

Usually, it’d be just when someone pissed you off, annoyed you, you’d stare at them, face more serious than ever, and no matter the strength of their will, they’d end up apologizing to you. 

“The Batmom glare”. That’s how your sons came to call it. 

It worked on them just as much as it worked on their father. Whenever one of them would do something you didn’t like, mostly something rude, you’d glare at them until, head bends down, they’d say : 

-...Sorry mom. 

You used it a lot when they started to fight. For exemple, that time Damian and Tim were at it again, and almost started to fight...until they spotted you, glaring at them. They tried to ignore it, but it was impossible, your power glare was just too strong for them...They stopped, apologized to each other, shook hands and...under your gaze even hugged before going to watch a movie together. 

When Jason was acting out and was provoking his father on purpose...He would stop immediately when meeting your eyes. And under your gaze, he would mumble an apology, and your husband would act as if it was nothing (though every night he’d cuddle against you, in need of reassurance that his son did not hate him...Of course he didn’t hate him, he just wanted his attention, and didn’t really know how to get it...). 

Oh and let’s not talk about when you got wind of Dick’s bad habit of skipping school...He definitely never did it again. 

It just always worked. It solved so many problems in your life. 

****************

Paparazzis would run away when you glared at them that way. 

Women who thought Bruce deserved better than you would never utter a word in your general direction ever again when you gave them the look. 

Politics and powerful men who tried to make you feel inferior to them because you were a woman, and “only Mr. Wayne’s spokesperson” would shiver under your gaze, and agree with whatever you’d say. 

Maybe sometimes you overused your “powers”, but Hell, it was the funniest thing to see all those people who thought they were better than you because you came from a poor neighborhood in Gotham, quiver when you glared at them. It was great to see the opinion they had of you change as you inspired respect just with your eyes. And through the years, less and less people dared to play the smart ass with Mrs. (Y/N) Wayne.

You used this glare though, only with people who deserved it. You would never intimidate someone just for fun. You were really a nice person, everyone who knew you personally would agree on that. You were an extremely empathic woman, and you did so much for Gotham’s disadvantaged communities. It’s just, sometimes, people should know better than to piss you off, you know ? 

You’d also glare a lot at people who were being rude or inappropriate, not only to you, but to people, even if said people were strangers. You just hated rudeness, and you’d make them apologize with your glare. 

Bruce thought it was insanely hot (except when it was destined to him...though the only time you glared at him was when he was being stubborn about something stupid). 

*****************

One day, while the entire Batfam was at the League’s headquarter, your friends that were present got surprised when you made Damian apologize to Superman (you couldn’t exactly remember what you son said, but you knew it was mean, and you hated free mean comments) by just looking at him intensely. 

Dick explained the “batmom glare” to them, and they were impressed...except for Hal, who did not believe in it. Well, up until you stared him down from across the room. Then, he definitely trusted your son’s words. 

You, a simple human (with some martial arts training, after all, you were the Batman’s wife), intimidated the mighty Green Lantern simply by looking at him.

With a smirk, you remember Jason saying, pointing at your husband : 

-And it works on him too. 

Bruce grumble incoherent sentences, trying to deny it...But then you gave him the glare, and, looking around at his friends, he said : 

-Yeah. Works on me too. 

They were impressed. And highly amused.  Laughter filled the room, and you and your sons thought it was the most hilarious thing ever when you stop them all dead in their track, stopped their laughter, by simply looking at them...Once you started to laugh though, quickly followed by your sons (hell, even Bruce smirked and chuckled), they understood you were joking, and laughed again. 

Still, Clark was properly freaked out. Hal would never underestimate you ever again. Barry was...strangely aroused ? (Which earned him a glare from your husband...scary too, and not at all arousing). Diana liked you even more, but also made sure to never annoy you. Arthur was impressed, and tried to glare at Dinah, who just laughed in his face and said he just wasn’t playing in the same sandbox than you...

Basically, the Justice League’s members learned to not get on your bad side. Not that it’d show often, but there were things, pet peeves of yours, that would make them glare at them, and they just avoided that, no matter how all mighty they were...You just had a way of intimidating them you know ?

********************

“The Batmom glare”, that’s how your sons called it. 

You liked that name. It was suiting. 

You were so glad that you discovered this sort of “superpower” you had, the effect on people just a simple stare from you could have...Because it definitely helped in your every day life. 

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