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kaleidoscopewritings19 · 3 months

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Bruce Wayne x Reader

Title: “Secrets will be told” SERIES PART 6 FINAL PART

Need a Refresher? Here are the previous parts!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Pairing(s): Bruce Wayne (from the show Gotham) and Female reader. BOTH BRUCE AND READER WILL BE 26-28 in this part.

Warnings: None; I did not proofread; I quickly skimmed through

Summary of series: Bruce Wayne was captivated when he met Y/N, and the feeling was mutual. Dating turned into being engaged and engaged to married. They knew each other’s secrets and told each other everything; they confided in one another. But once Y/N follows Bruce back to Gotham, he begins to change... He becomes secretive, is he having an affair? Y/N needs to find out the truth.

The sound of beeping made me open my eyes. I frantically looked around, and tubes were in my nose, and the heart rate monitor was beeping quickly. “Y/N, sweetie, please calm down..” My mom’s hands held mine, and I turned to look at her.

I could feel a burning sensation in my hand, and I held my hand in front of my face. The palm of my hand was wrapped in a bandage, and the doctor walked in. “It’s about time you woke up, Mrs. Wayne. You’ve been asleep for three days now; we were starting to get worried.” he said, as he looked down at his clipboard.

“Do you remember anything that happened?” he asked and I leaned back into the pillows behind me. “I-I was kidnapped... By Jeremiah Valeska, and I was saved by..by...” I started to remember last night.

“Stay standing. Don’t pass out. Just focus on me.” he said, and I shook my head. “Please, just tell Bruce I love him. Tell him, I’m not mad. Don’t let him blame himself for.. for.. th-this.”

My lungs were burning, and it felt like they could no longer hold any air. My legs began to shake, and before my eyes closed, I heard the batman say: “I love you too...”

“It’s okay, we don’t need to go over everything right now. But I am advising you go to therapy when we get you home. What you went through was traumatic, and I think it would be a great help..” he said, and then he cleared his throat. “But let’s discuss what is currently wrong. Your oxygen levels were extremely low from breathing in all of the chemicals. Your hand-” he lifted up my hand and unwrapped it.

My hand was red and blistered, “You will have a permanent scar on you right hand.” I lifted my hand up and the chemical burn was in the shape of a “J”. Of course, that bastard had to leave his mark.

The doctor grabbed my hand and wrapped it with a clean bandage. “But there are some corrective surgeries that can fix it. I can get something scheduled if you would like.” he said, and I shook my head.

“Where’s my husband? Where’s Bruce?” I asked, and my mom stood up. “He went home to take a shower. He will be back soon.” Her thumb massaged the top of my hand, and I sighed.

“Why did you go to Metropolis?” my mother asked.

“I can’t remember. I’m sorry.” I said, as she pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m just so happy that you are going to be okay.” she whispered.

The doctor picked up his clipboard, “Alright Mrs. Wayne. Your hand is all good to go. Now, I must advise you to get some rest. And if everything is good by tonight, I will consider letting you go home early.” he said before walking out of the door.

My mother and I sat there talking about her and my father’s recent trip, until she had to go home to clean up broken glass. I sat there staring at the bandage wrapped around my right hand. I began to unwrap the bandage and hissed at the stinging pain that shot through my entire arm.

I stared at the raw, blistered skin. Of course, he left his mark on me. I started to cry at the site of it; I felt disgusting. I could still feel his lingering touch on my bottom lip, and the way he stared at me. I was supposed to be dead. Never has anyone wanted me dead, and I hoped that they put Jeremiah away. Because now, this felt like a game that was not going to end in my favor.

A knock on my hospital room door tore my gaze away from my hand. Bruce stood there with a bouquet of roses. I wiped the tears from my face, and he quickly made his way over to me. “Y/N, I am so sorry about what happened. I wanted to be here when you woke up, but your mom made me go home and clean up.” he said.

He watched where my gaze went, and he looked down at my hand. “Let me wrap that up so it doesn’t get infected.” he said as he grabbed the bandages that were on the bedside table. I stared at him as he bandaged my hand, and he finally looked up at me. “We need to talk when we get home.” he said quietly, and I nodded.

“About the divorce?” I asked, and he looked down at his hands. “If that is what you want, then yes. But I would really like for you to reconsider those divorce papers.” He spoke.

“Why would I do that?” I asked, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“We will talk about this when we get you home.” he said, and he stood up from his chair. “Right now, I’m going to let you rest.”

An hour after Bruce had left, I had fallen asleep.

“I want to be able to control your pain and how fast you die.” Jeremiah hissed as he dragged a knife that had the residue from the chemical down my arm.

“Stop! Please, stop!” I cried out, and all he could do was laugh in my face.

Slowly, he dragged the knife down my cheek, “I hate having to scar your pretty little face. Maybe if Bruce doesn’t want you after this, I will give you a chance. After all, you will look just...like....me.”

I felt a hand shake my shoulder and all I could do was scream “No! Please, get off of me!” Bruce’s hand pulled back from me.

“Y/N, it’s just me. It’s just me.” he said, and I jumped into his arms. “Please don’t let him get me, Bruce.” I cried out, and his hand cupped the back of my head. He pulled me closer to him, “He’s not coming back, Y/N. It’s over. Jeremiah is dead.”

I pulled away from Bruce’s chest, “He-He’s dead? Are you sure?” I asked and Bruce nodded. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”

When we had gotten back to Wayne Manor, Alfred was smiling. “It is so good to have you back, Mrs. Wayne. Want me to fix you something to eat or drink?” he asked, and I shook my head.

Bruce gave Alfred a small smile, “I think we need some time to talk, if you don’t mind Alfred.”

Alfred handed Bruce something, but I didn’t see what it was. Bruce picked up my uninjured hand and led me to his study. “I know I said I can explain everything, but I think it would be easier if I just show you.”

I watched him walk over to his desk and grab a remote, and he clicked a button, and a loud sound made the room tremble. I took a step back as the fireplace retracted into the wall, revealing a dark hallway with stairs. Bruce picked up my left hand and led me down the dark staircase. “Um.. This isn’t the part where you are actually going to murder me, right?” I asked and Bruce smiled.

“You watch way too much crime shows, Y/N.” he continued to lead me down the never-ending staircase, but a bright LED light was shining at the end of the hallway. He turned to face me, “Before we go any further, please let me explain and answer your questions. And if you still want a divorce after seeing all of this, I understand.”

I followed him into the blinding light, and after my eyes adjusted to my surroundings, I gasped. A group of computers almost took up one entire wall, and a big black military looking car was on the opposite side. But Bruce led me to a glass case, and once we got close enough, I stopped dead in my tracks.

It was the Batman suit. Bruce opened the case, and I pressed my left hand up against the chest of the suit. Memories of being carried out of Ace Chemicals replayed in my mind.

When he spoke that night, his last words to me were “I love you too.” Those words were not spoken in the Batman’s voice, but in Bruce’s voice. The scars on Bruce’s back, the late nights of him not being home, and this is the reason why he bulked up. Bruce Wayne, my husband, is the Batman.

I turned to Bruce with tears in my eyes, “It was you. You are the Batman?”

Bruce nodded his head as tears ran down his cheeks. “I had to retaliate, Y/N. When I heard Jeremiah escaped Gotham, I couldn’t be a sitting duck anymore. It wasn’t just me anymore, I had to protect you.” he said.

“And that woman in your office? Who is she?” I questioned and Bruce sighed. “That woman was Selina Kyle. She was warning me about Jeremiah. She heard that he was coming for me, but she didn’t know when. But instead, he went for you.” he explained.

“We have been friends for a very long time, Y/N. Nothing is or ever will go on between her and myself. She is the reason Jeremiah will never come for us again.” he whispered, and I lunged into Bruce’s arms.

“I was so scared that I was going to die, Bruce.” I cried into his chest. “But the last thing I thought of before I passed out, was you. And when I looked into the Batman’s eyes, I should have known they were yours.”

Bruce’s arms tightened around me, “I can’t lie to you, Y/N, but things are not going to be easy. Now that you know I am Batman, this is going to make you a target.” he said as he pulled away from me and held my face in his hands. “I can’t give up being Batman now. Gotham needs me more than ever, and if you want to leave me, I won’t hold it against you.”

“Because I will never forgive myself if something were to happen to you. A part of me knows I should have left you in the dark, and I should have signed those divorce papers.” he said as a tear slipped from his eye. “But another part of me, the selfish part of me, doesn’t want to lose you. I love you, Y/N. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. However, I will respect the decision that you make.” Bruce said as he pressed his forehead against mine.

I took in a deep breath, “I don’t want a divorce, Bruce. I really don’t. But please, don’t keep any secrets from me.” I said quietly, and Bruce picked me up off of the ground. “No more secrets.” he said before pressing a kiss to my lips.

“Mrs. Wayne, you are going to need these.” he said as he pulled my engagement ring and wedding band out of his pocket. Bruce slipped them onto my ring finger.

A few weeks later, I was able to remove the bandage from my hand. This was the first time in weeks I had seen my bare hand. As I removed the bandage, I saw the dark red ‘J’ scar that would be a permanent mark.

Bruce came into the bathroom and leaned against the door frame, “Are you alright?” he asked, and I closed my hand. “Yeah. I’m just trying to get used to this ugly scar.” I say and he wrapped his arms around me.

“It won’t always be red. It should somewhat fade.” he said as opened my hand. He looked at the scar and sighed. “If I could have been there sooner.” he whispered, and I cupped his cheek. “Don’t go down that route, Bruce. I am just thankful you showed up when you did. Otherwise, things could have gotten worse.”

He wrapped his arms around me, and I took in his scent. “Can I ask you something?” I asked, and Bruce nodded. “Will you train me, Bruce?” I asked and he pulled away from me.

“Train you? For what?”

“I don’t want to be that girl that was locked in a glass room, about to be murdered, Bruce. I don’t want to be the girl that is left with a scar as a reminder that I cannot protect myself.” I said and he tore his gaze away from me. “Please, Bruce?”

He stood there staring at the wall, and finally he answered. “Okay. You’re right. You need to be able to protect yourself. I will train you, but it’s not going to be easy.”

That night, when we left “the batcave” after he told me was Batman, our lives had changed forever. I had to share the love of my life with everyone else in Gotham; they got the Dark Knight, and I got Bruce Wayne. The person I fell in love with at Princeton.

He trained me just like he promised he would. Hell, I was so good at fighting that I was now known as the “Black Widow”. I fought right alongside my husband, helping keep the streets of Gotham safe.

Then we adopted our first son, then our second, and then our third. Then Bruce found out he had a love child from before we met in college. And then we had a set of twins of our own. As a family, we had a pact, and that was never keep a secret. Because Secrets will always be told.

----

I know, cheesy ending. But I hope you guys enjoyed this little mini-series. I had fun writing it, and at times it was challenging, but definitely worth it. Thank you to the readers who stuck it out until the very end of this series!

(Also, I couldn’t figure out a superhero name. So I went with Black Widow, I mean, I always can picture Bruce with a Black Widow!Reader. I do not own the rights to Batman/Bruce Wayne, or the characters mentioned. I only own the story line. Nor do I own the rights to the hero name Black Widow).

XOXO

TAGLIST: @rl800 @auspicious-lilana @theclassicvinyldragon

@moon-shampoo

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader #bruce x y/n #bruce wayne x batmom #gotham fox #Gotham TV #Gotham #Selina Kyle

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rayofsuns · 5 months

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Mother Dearest: pt 7

Story Summary: Damian Al Ghul loved his mother to no end but when she threatens to harm the one person he loves more; he has no choice but to go to his father for help.

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Leona loves wash day. it felt like the only time her and Damian could talk without the other boys interrupting, talking over them or just being downright annoying. it was a day Leona spent with her head in a sink as damian's long nimble fingers massaged shampoo and conditioner into her scalp while she asked whatever questions she could think of. It was a peaceful day for her and Damian, A day they both looked forword to for different reasons.

For Leona it was a chance to ask Damian any and everything, questions Damian wouldn't normal answer. It was one of those rare days that Damian was relaxed, his only concern was keeping soap out of Leona's eyes and that made him easier to talk to.

Damian didn't know why wash day relaxed him, his guess is that it has something to do with focusing on only one thing for a change. Usuually his mind was plagued with every possible danger that can harm his sister. it was the only time that his worries seems to melt away. "When is the last time you got a full night of sleep?" leona asked, eyeing the dark bags under her brother's eyes. Damian let out a laugh.

"Bruce snuck a sleeping pill in my dinner last week. I sleep the whole day." Damian said, his voice heavey with humor as he comb the tangles out of her hair. If it was any other family that sentance would have been concerning; but this isn't a regular family now is it. Damian knew about the pill in his drink yet he drunk it anyways. Nowaday the only way Damian could sleep was with the help of sleeping pills. Everyone in the Manor knew about his sleeping problems so naturally they've decided to get involved.

More than once Damian has had one of his siblings trying (and failing) to get him to take these pills. each taking a different approach.

Dick liked to talk to him about his sleeping schedule. He was one of the only one who didn't try sneaking it into his food or anything. Dick's talks never worked. "How can you protect Leona if you're too sleep deprived?" was his favorite line.

Tim; the hypocrite, was sloppy, the pills will be half dissolved in whatever drink Tim would bring to him out of the 'kindness of his heart'

Jason is more forcefull, often times he tries forcing the pill into Damian's mouth and down his throat himself. those times Jason would leave the manor with fresh stitches and bruises. Damian actually stabbed him one time when things got too rough.

Duke is the only one who didn't care enough to try. "you're not hurting anyone but yourself" he would shrug "as long as you're alert on patrol I don't care how often you sleep" it may have sounded harsh but Duke didn't mean it that way. Duke cared about about his found family so of course he wanted Damian to be healthy but he also didn't want Damian to feel like everyone was ganging up on him.

Cass is the only person (other than Bruce) that Damian has had to keep and eye out for. she like him is an assassin. she knows how to sneak something into someones food. Cass was the only one of his siblings that was has been successful in getting him to unknowingly take the sleeping pills. Damian to this day stills doesn't know how she did it, the only way he knew that she was successful was because he woke up two days later.

Leona hummed out a reponse before decideing not to push the subject knowing how defensive Damian can get when it came to him 'relaxing'. "Can I ask you a question Dami?" Leona asked. Her eyes were closed and her head was laid back in the shampoo sink. "Of course." Damain said, messaging the shampoo in her head.

"I know you don't like talking about her but I just have to know. Why did Talia want me dead?" Leona felt damian stiffen. He didn't really like talking about his mother or most importantly her fall from grace. Leona was ten when Damian explained to her what happened to their Umi and how their mother went crazy resulting in them having to flee from their home. He still remembered the hurt in Leona's eyes when he told her. No ten year old should ever hear that their mother, the one person who was suspose to protect, them wanted them dead.

This was the first time she even asked about her umi. Damian cleared his throat thinking about what to say. "Still to this day I have no idea why. Umi's death hit us both hard and I think her mind just snapped. Umi's death was her fault in a way and she couldn't handle that"

"her fault?" Leona asked, intrigued by this new piece of information.

Damian nodded even though she couldn't see him with her eyes closed. "when Umi died I did some digging. the man who killed our Umi and tried to kill you was from a village Talia eradicated ten monthes before. According to the files I found a woman by the name of Elena Heartfelt had set up a meeting with Talia, she had asked for talia's protection from the village that had been harrassing her in exchange for a gift. Apparently the village dislike the lady, the report didn't say why they dislike her all it said was that they wanted her dead." Damian explained. "what was the gift?" Leona asked, her eyes open and her intrest piqued. Damain shrugged. "it didn't say but I hope it was worth the life of my Umi." Damian took a deep breath trying to keep his anger under control. "What she didn't know was that a small group of man and woman had left few days prior on a hunting trip, when they came back their loved ones were dead. They wanted revenge and they got it." Damian sighed, turning on the water and started rinsing out the shampoo.

the room was quiet until Leona sighed "I wish I could have meet her" she said, Damian's eyebrows furrowed. "Talia?" Leona shook her head. She would never admit it but the thought of Talia scared her. She's never had a desire to come face to face with the woman. "No Umi" she said

Leona has always wondered what her life would have been like if Aaliyah was alive, what type of mother she would have been. From the stories that Damian has told her she was have been an amazing mother.

Damian laughed "you know you look just like her. you have Talia's eyes but other than that you're an exact copy of her." Leona smiled. Damian's favorite thing to paint and draw was Aaliyah. Even at a young age Damian realise the resemblance his Umi and sister shared. If the eyes in the painting were brown it was Aaliyah and if it was Green it was Leona.

Damian smiled fondly "I use to hear stories of people forgetting what the dead looks like. they forget how they talked and how they smiled and it scared the crap out of me. I didn't want to forget my Umi; in my mind she was the only one who actually cared about what I wanted and how I felt. I would lose my mind if I forgot her. you've helped me to remember her." Damian leaned down to place a kiss on Leona's forhead. Leona smiled, reaching up to squeezed Damian's hand.

"Did Umi and dad ever meet?" Leona asked after a moment of silence, Damian shook his head no. "Father knew nothing about Umi until I arrived at the manor with you. I wish they would have met; I'd like to think that they'd be really good friends." Leona smiled softly at what could have been.

Leona studied her brother's face again before sighing, giving his hand another squeeze. "You know I'm safe right? I'm sure she's forgotten all about me so you have nothing to worry about. We. are. safe." Damian sighed, nodding his head even though he wasn't convince. Everynight he goes over every possible plan of attack, every way of entrance and with the manor so being big there's so many. If the Manor security's were to fail and the league found a way in. Damian shook the thought from his head. He just had to make sure they were safe.

"I'll be fine Leona. it's my job to worry about you, you know" Leona groaned. "I just don't want you to worry about me all the time. You know I have other brother's and a father that can protect me." Damian frowned, the room was silent until Leona sighed as she decided to change the subject.

"when you and Jon first became more than friends was it... awkward?" Damian chuckled. "Is it awkard between you and Jace?" Damian asked, Leona blush nodding her head yes. "That's the thing is I don't know if Jace and I are even together." She cleared her throat. "I mean He's going through a lot right now so we haven't really been able to talk about what happened a few months ago" Damian nodded in understanding. Damian thought about his answer before speaking.

"when Jon and I decided to be together it wasn't awkward at all for us. Being friends first seemed to have really helped. Maybe you and Jace just need to sit down and talk about what you want from each other?" Leona shook her head no the best she could since Damian was gently massaging the conditioner in her hair. "I can't. He's going through a lot right now and it'll be selfish of me to add this onto his plate."

John and connie, Jace's parents, had Jace scared to death of them.

They sounded like real sociopaths. They beat him almost everyday. Sometimes it was so bad Jace had to stay home from school for days on end just so he can heal; his body so bruised and beaten he couldn't move and Leona would have to steal pain pills from Alfred's secret stash. Those were the days Leona was most tempted to call Jason, knowing jason would handle it in a heartbeat.

"what's got you so angry?" Damian asked, pulling Leona from her thoughts. Leona relaxed her face; not realising her face was scrunched up in anger. "Nothing; just thinking about Jace." Damian nodded. "Ok. I'm done by the way" Damian said, wrapping Leona's hair in a towel. Leona sighed finally being able to sit up. They moved over to the vanity area. Damian took off the towel and started parting her hair, combing out any knots and greasing her scalp. suddenly the door to the in-home salon slammed open revealing a very stoic looking Bruce. he was in his 'Batman mode'

Leona laughed not taking the look seriously "who died."

---

Leona never ran so fast in her life before, Guilt and shame laid heavy on her chest like an obese elephant. "Leona slow down." Damian said trying to keep up with the frantic girl as she ran through the hospital. Leona ignored her brother as she made her way other to the nurses station. "I'm looking for Jace lovett's room?" Leona asked, her eyes widen with fear. The nurse typed something into the computer before frowning.

"I'm sorry darling but he's still with the doctor, it might take a while before you're able to see him." The nurse said, a sympathetic frown on her face. Leona took a deep breath trying to stop her racing heart. It didn't work. "can you at least tell us what happened?" Leona asked, All Bruce had told her was that he got a call from the hospital saying jace was in the hospital but that was about it. Leona has never been so thankful that John and connie added Bruce to Jace's emergancy contact. other than that they can rot in hell

The nurse looked left and right, almost like she was making sure no one was listening into our conversation before saying "I was outside smoking a cigarette when suddenly this huge white van comes speeding into the ambulance bay. They pushed the boy out of the car not even bothering to slow down or stop." The nurse shook her head. "The police are waiting to question him about who was in the car but like I said the doctor is still with him." she nodded her head to a corner where two policeman were leaning agaisnt the wall. the looked to be bored just standing there a cup of coffee in both of their hands.

Leona's hand balled up into a fist. "leona do you know something?" Bruce asked, His voice was stern and he gave me a look that said 'you better not lie to me' she sighed moving away from the nurse's station and were no one can hear them.

"do you know who did this to him?" Bruce asked sternly.

Leona nodded. she explained everything she knew about the abuse Jace has been going through. She also told them how she stole drugs from Alfred to help Jace. Bruce gave her a disappointed sigh. "we could have helped him Leona, before it went this far." Bruce said. Leona rolled her eyes. "I know that but I couldn't just say 'oh jace trust me you'll be safe from your abusive parents at the manor because my dad is the batman' now could I." Leona snapped. she didn't mean to but she was stressed out. Bruce sighed. "everything is going to be alright Leona. I'll ask Gordan to put out an warrant for John and connies arrest in the meantime he'll come live with us." Leon sighed laying her head on Bruce chest.

"Damian go over and tell the police officer what Leona just told us and make sure they take a report. I wont have them just sweeping this under the rug." Damian nodded before turning and heading over to the police officers. "Family of Jace lovett" an middle age doctor called out into the waiting room.

Leona and Bruce walked over, worry painting her face. "Here" she breathed out. The doctor smiled at her sweetly. "He's a strong young man." she sighed. "he has three fractured ribs, His left was arm broken in two places and his body is just covered in bruises but that is the extant of his injuries but other than that he's going to be ok. He can actually go home today if he'd like" Leona sighed.

"Can we see him?" Leona asked. the doctor nodded "he's a little loopy from the pain killers but yes you can see him. he's in room 2OA" Leona thanked the doctor before leaving to find Jace's room.

Leona has never been so angry before. Angry at herself for not telling Bruce about the abuse and angry at John and connnie for doing this to their son. How can someone be so cruel. "Leona" Jace's voice was low as he called out for her. "Oh Jace" she cried running over to him and throwing herself at his side. leona gasped as Jace let out a groan. Leona stood back up feeling like an idiot for forgetting why jace was laying in this bed in the first place. Two fractured ribs and an broken arm. Leona couldn't imagine the horrors jace had went through only a few hours before.

"sorry" she said, kissing his cheek. Jace let out a low dark laugh as his face turned red. "it's alright, I'm just a little sore" Jace said, pushing Leona's hair, that was still wet, out of her face. Leona glanced at the mirror that was opposite of the small hospital room and flinched at the sight of her hair. Her damp hair stuck to her head on one side while other was sticking in all different directions. She knew the Media was going to have a field day with this; they just couldn't help themselves. Leona sighed, peeling her eyes away from the jagged girl in the mirror and back towords Jace.

Jace eyes seems to be studing the girl infront on him. he seemed to be taking her in; like there was a test about her face and he just had to study for it. "I was so worried" Leona said resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm fine now that you're here" Jace laughed, winking at Leona. Now it was Leona's turn to blush. "Jace--"

"come lay with me" jace asked, his voice low and hoarse. Leona shook her head no. "you're hurt." Leona said, concern written on her face. Jace shrugged, groaning in pain. "just be gentle." Leona eyed Jace, waiting for him to start laughing because he couldn't be serious.

Leona sighed when Jace's face stayed straight and almost emotionless as he stared at her with his sky blue eyes. Eyes that seems to be growing hazier and low by the second. Leona cleared her throat before slowly getting into the small one person bed. The bed was so small that she practically had to lay on top of him, their face so close that their lips almost touched.

"I told my dad about your parents. he said you can come live with us for now on." leona regretted her words the second Jace stiffened beneath her. Jace groaned as he shifted to a more comfortable position. Leona, thinking she was hurting him, tried to jump down from the bed but before she could jace snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer. "you smell good." Jace said, he shoved his nose into her neck and took a beep breath. He was so close that his hot breath tickled her neck when he breathed out making her body become hot with desire.

Leona shook the though away. "Um thanks..." she cleared her throat. "It was wash day." Jace chuckled placing a kiss on her neck before pulling away which she was thankful for. Leona let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding before willing herself to stay calm and focus on Jace.

"You're acting strange J." Leona said, laying her head next to his on his pillow behind them. Jace shrugged "I think I'm done being afraid Lee"

"you'll never have to be afraid again Jace. My family will take care of you, I will take care of you for now on." Leona reasurred. For the first time in her life she understood her brother. The need to protect, to defend flooded her veins. No one was going to hurt them ever again.

Jace looked to be in deep thought, his lips curled downwords in a deep frown. Leona flinched when Jace eyes snapped towords hers. They were dark almost crazyed looking. "You are mine and I am yours" He stated. cupping my cheek with his good hand as his thumb traced my lips. "say it." He demanded. My mouth opened but no words spilled out. "I need to hear you say it" Jace said pulling her face closer; which she didn't think was possible. their lips so close they were almost touching

Jace has never given Leona a reason to fear him; but for some reason she still felt like she was signing a deal with the devil. "I am yours and you are mine." she repeated. Jace smiled a dazed looked in his eyes. Their lips connected in a slow heated kiss. "always and forever." Jace promised.

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swanimagines · 6 months

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GOTHAM AO3 SERIESES

EVERYTHING FOR GOTHAM

Bruce Wayne

Selina Kyle

Jim Gordon

Oswald Cobblepot

Edward Nygma

Jerome Valeska

Jeremiah Valeska

Jonathan Crane

Sid

MISC

Preferences

(Any of the other characters don't have any requests written nor pending as for now, so I'm unable to have serieses for them as AO3 requires you to have at least one oneshot written to be able to add it to a series, and I can't promise serieses for characters who don't have requests pending/I have no ideas of my own for them)

For anyone who's concerned, THESE ARE NOT ONESHOT COLLECTIONS, they are made using AO3's "series" feature.

If you want to be informed about new fics for Gotham or its individual characters, create an AO3 account and subscribe or bookmark any of those serieses listed above. There are buttons at the top right corner for those, or on top on mobile. I do not do Tumblr taglists anymore.

Also, if you're wondering, requests are ALWAYS open and you're welcome to leave one or multiple. Just remember to read my rules and pick a request type from this list.

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apocalypse-shuffle · 7 months

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GOTHAM CITY SIRENS (generalized canon)

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"Harley-napping" (Harley Quinn × Poison Ivy x Selina Kyle × Fem!Reader)

I Stealing Harley from the Squad and then having a fun night out.

| SFW, mature language, action, criminal acts (duh), -platonic!reader/though there's hints of something more or a past relationship with Cat

I You're a thief, demolitions expert, and have EOD training in this one. Pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Arkham City video game)

| +words

| part: two of two (part one)

“C’mon Croc, we’re all friends here.”

You walk away from your opponent, skidding around the hulking mass in front of you whenever he gets too close. God, you hated Killer Croc.

He growls.

“I’m not in the mood for your shit tonight, girl, and neither is Waller.”

You tip your head back and laugh.

“Is that so, buddy?” You step onto the raised edge of the embassy building the Squad had been deployed in. Was this ugly motherfucker serious?

You watch Killer Croc’s eyes narrow as he takes a step forward with yet another growl. You shake your head, shaking off the way the sound sends shockwaves into the air, and tutt in disagreement.

“Uh uh. If you want me you’ll have to work for it.” You smirk, spreading your arms wide, “Catch me if you can.”

You wave a little and then tip off the ledge of the building. Falling.

As the wind from your descent whips around you wildly, you whoop loudly. Tilting your upper body upwards you go to grasp at the grappling gun attached to your hip and fire—

You’re jerked roughly to a stop, breath punching out of you, equilibrium disrupted, and stomach the wrong side of queasy.

The jolt in your descent makes you give a breathy yell in surprise and the comparatively mild knock of your head on the side of the building shocks you into silence.

‘The fuck?’ Your mind supplies and you groan.

It takes you a while, your brain taking a few moments to wrap around your new position and the distinct lack of anything in your hand, before you force your head up. Slitted eyes meet squinted brown and your gut clenches.

Copperhead. What kind of fucking circus was Waller running here?

“You have,” you close your eyes and gasp, “Got to be kidding.”

Selina Them were so making this night up to you later.

“What fun is there in jokes when I could be killing you instead?” His tail tightens around your middle from where he’s dangling you in the air, hanging halfway outside an upper floor window himself, and you wheeze. “This spoil is ours.”

The hissed sentence makes you want to tense up but - even lightheaded - your training kicks in and dictates you do the opposite. Relaxing proves to be the correct move too because Copperhead gives an incredibly startled look at the drop in your weight. Thankfully the lapse is immediately exploited by one of the vines resting on the side of the building coming to life and striking out to wrap around his throat.

He’s too shocked to coil back around you but that also means that when his tail goes lax you drop from it.

And here you were without your grappling gun. You can even see where it is, gun dangling from the line and hook stuck in the stone structure of the building.

Two - maybe three - seconds of stomach dropping airtime is what you’re bestowed with before you land into something soft and vaguely organic smelling. Your breath hasn’t even fully caught up with you when the thing closes around you and you’re being lowered to the ground at a much more respectable pace.

It’s not till you touch gravel and the thing unfurls that you fully register what it is—a flower.

“Okay,” you gasp, nodding to yourself. A humongous flower rescuing you from impending death was by far not the weirdest thing you’d seen in Gotham - and to be expected considering current company.

Tenderly brushing your hands over the petal closest in gratitude and then pushing yourself out of the vibrant flower takes more effort than it should. Having to repeatedly remind yourself to take deep breaths dulls the hell outta your reaction time it would seem.

Your breath stutters, body harshly trying to regulate itself, but you wave off the green hand being held out to you. When Ivy even got so close you’ve no idea.

When your knees buckle Ivy disregards the dismissal entirely, not even hesitating for a second before grabbing you. Steady hands wrap around your middle, pulling you closer to her, and your own hands snap up to grasp at her forearms.

Ivy clicks her tongue at you. She smells just as organic as the flower did and that helps ground you at least.

“I thought I made it expressly clear I needed you alive,” she hisses softly but her eyes are sliding over you in fits and there’s a hint at something not too reproachful in them.

You humph but negate to curse her out the way you want. Or at least the way some people seem to think you will going off of the half cringes taking over the faces of the other two women behind Ivy.

You roll your eyes.

“I am a human and you put me on distract-the-animal-mutate-s duty. I don’t know what you expected,” you swallow, “but thanks…”

Ivy shrugs then points over her shoulder at an interestingly disheveled Harley. When she lets go of you she pushes you toward the blonde without another word.

Said woman smiles wide and waves at you, cringe forgotten for now, but covered head to toe by what might be soot with her outfit askew and hair sticking up in all types of directions.

“Please tell me something hasn’t already exploded.”

“Oh no!” Harley scoffs at your concern as she walks to you, bat swinging lowly in her dropped hand. She does gesticulate with it languidly, indicating a side of the embassy you’d managed to miss until now that’s definitely seen better days. “The building’s structure just wasn’t worth shit. Frosty barely flicked it before it started crumbling over our heads. Me and Cat slipped out just fine though, don’t worry!”

“Uh huh,” you grunt offhandedly, hands already rifling through your pack for the supplies.

You weren’t a surgeon but for your friend you could make this work. Would have to make this work because if you don’t pull this off you’re not entirely certain Ivy won’t kill you, fondness for you be damned.

Harley turns for you without you having to ask and you set to work right away; consulting the schematics Selina had managed to steal and your own scattered knowledge of anatomy to extract both of the bombs deep in the base of her neck and the tracker embedded in her bicep.

It’s as you’re working on the second bomb that Harley begins to fidget. Starting to rock in place for a second before remembering what’s happening, or moving to get a crink out of her neck but stopping herself half way.

At one point she rocks back enough that your retrieval tool clinks against the pill sized bomb and you tense, teeth grinding together. The localized EMP you were using to slow the bombs tampering fail safe wasn’t foolproof, it would still go off if you messed with it too fast, but you couldn’t block the transmitter entirely cause that’d definitely tip off Waller and she’d detonate the bombs in a heartbeat.

When nothing aside from your heart dropping into your spleen occurs you breathe out a small sigh.

Harley doesn’t see the panic flash across your face but she does see how Ivy reacts to it. If looks could kill you’d be way past the seventh gate of hell by now.

Harley’s voice cuts through the tension.

“What’s going on?”

“Just…hold still so I can cut the damn bomb out, Harls.”

“Sorry sorry,” she shrugs the smallest bit. “I’m getting antsy is all.”

“Well stop it,” you murmur.

Your tweezers finally get a decent grasp of the implant and you extract it carefully. It comes out even smoother than the last and you hand the bomb to a thickly structured plant that Ivy has walk a good distance away from you all.

Collectively all of your abdomens unclench and every one of you starts moving lighter. The tracker is extracted soon after and you plop it into Harley’s hand, happy to be rid of the stressor.

Harley cheers, throwing the tracker toward the vicinity of Cooperhead’s limp body. She runs up to Ivy right after that, jumps into the taller’s embrace and they share a passionate kiss.

You raise your brows, turning away. Selina and you both exchange a glance and when she walks over to give you your own hug you reciprocate the gesture.

“Thanks for helping out,” she says into the side of your head. You nod into her shoulder before pulling apart. You both squeeze each other's hands, her lighter thumbs rubbing lightly over your knuckles.

“Humph,” you duck your head at the way she meets your eyes and let go of her to go examine the stagnant bombs.

Selina leaves you to stare at them.

They’re so …innocent looking when they’re just chilling in the middle of one of Ivy’s oversized plants. You’d never expect they’d be able to take out two people if a second person was close enough. It was barbaric.

The scoff you let out is full of contempt.

Harley peeks over your shoulder, energy revitalized without the threat of death hovering so close, and the only reason you don’t startle is practice. Even crazier is that you haven’t seen her in nearly a year and her absurd knack for sneaking up on you was still familiar.

“Harley,” you admonish quietly, making yourself relax back and willing your heart rate down.

Naturally, Harley ignores you. “So you gonna disarm them now, or what?”

Harley having broken the seal, Ivy and Selina move to gather around the plant with you as well.

You hum at Harley’s question, “I could do that…or…” you meet the gazes of the women with you and their eyes glint back with a similar desire.

_ _ _

All of your laughter echoes into the night air, nothing but knocked out Squad members scattered about and crickets in your near surroundings.

“Planting the bombs in the underside of the Squad’s truck was a good idea, Y/n. I knew you still had it in ya!”

You scoff, “Right?”

“Yeah, and I say we keep this ball rolling!” Harley announces. She’s linked arms with Ivy, leaning into the other woman as they walk. “Get the team back together for some real excitement!”

Ivy stares down at her with an uncomfortable amount of affection and you have to look away from her and from Harley’s expectant expression. Unfortunately that means you’re looking at Selina instead and the way she grins at you sends your heart racing.

Yeah, no. Ultimately you settle on only looking straight ahead of you, brows furrowing as you think about how exactly you’re gonna get home. You clear your throat.

“You guys have fun with that. I’ma head home though.”

Harley makes an anguished sound.

“No, whaddya mean? Let’s go have some fun!” She detangles herself from Ivy to sling an arm over your shoulder. “I missed my favorite arsonist and it’s been forever since we’ve all been together. We should totally celebrate!”

You hear an “Oh boy,” off to the side from Selina and couldn’t agree more.

“I’m not an arsonist, Harls.”

She giggles, “Sure you are. When you go out on the town you usually explode shit, and that comes with lots of fire.”

“Okay, but the fire isn’t the goal. I’m not obsessed with it like Firefly’s crazy ass.”

“So what? You’re basically an arsonist with more steps. Fire starters still a fire starter if ya asks me. Ain’t that right, Red?”

You glance at each other over the blonde's head, your own shaking minutely, but Ivy just smirks.

“On the money, Love.”

Damnit, you should’ve asked Selena for help. Harley squeals and rushes away from you to catch Ivy up in a hug again.

“Ohhh, I knew you had my back, Iv!”

She ends the hug after kissing Ivy some more then snatches something off Selina’s belt and bounds over to you with it.

“Here.”

Harley pushes something into your chest—a ski mask

You guffaw.

“Oh no, I did not come here to fucking steal with you. All you bitches bring is trouble.”

“If we’re such trouble then why’d you come babes? We’ve already been working together and none of our recreational activities ever don’t lead to a little trouble anyway.”

“Just like helping breakout and disable the bombs put into an inmate, which you just did, mind you,” Ivy adds very unhelpfully.

You curb the urge to flip her off - an action Ivy would surely laugh off anyway - instead focusing on Selina taking up your immediate line of vision.

“They’re right,” she croons. The claws of her glove tap at the mask. “Just think of this as an early Christmas present.”

You turn the mask over in your hands, running your fingers over the two points at the top. Cat ears.

“Your old mask? Really?”

She shrugs, “It fit in my pocket.”

You shake your head at all three of them - Ivy too. She better not think she looks any more subtle than the other two with her up-to-no-good smirk fully in place. Upstanding citizens don’t make that face at the prospect of an impromptu heist.

“What would we even steal?”

Harley smiles.

“Wellll, Waller sent us to retrieve some old super important papers. Not really my thing but treasury documents sell like crazy. They’re like the government secrets of the bonds world, big men inbetween wives with fragile senses of self worth pay top dollar for them.”

Clearly being able to see the wheels in your head turning in her favor Selina drapes herself over your shoulders. She doesn’t even have the decency to assuage your ego by speaking, just starts playing with the way some of your coils are tight enough to spring back into shape when they’re pulled on. You blow air out from your nose and the way she chuckles reverberates up your spine.

“Now that you mention it, Harley, what does Amanda want with decades old bookkeeping anyway?”

“Leverage, Kitty Cat,” you can feel the way Selina’s eyes narrow and Harley laughs, “Waller serves the US government, and nothing does those a-holes better than a boon they can hold over some foreign schmucks’ heads.”

“Compelling argument,” you murmur, still twisting the mask over and over in your hold.

When you look up both Harley and Ivy are giving you expectant looks. Selina pokes you in the side.

“Just say yes, Slick,” she takes the mask and slips it over your head before walking around to grab your hand and pull you towards the others, “You know you're itching for the thrill.”

You give their words a second more of consideration before your lips purse.

“Fine,” Harley lets out a whoop, “but the second we get wind of Bats we leave.”

“Deal!”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it! this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

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lonleydweller · 9 months

Note

May I ask for beadcanons for BTAS Catwoman? Her beloved partner's birthday is coming up, and she plans on showering her lover with the finest riches in Gotham to make their special day extra special. Which means, a perfect heist shall be done!

🌹BTAS Catwoman celebrating s/o's birthday🌹

Hell yeah my girl selina!!

!Warnings!: none

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●You can bet she's gonna get you something grand for your birthday. The finest jewelry, gems, and anything you might want. Anything on your list if you have one!

●Just a few nights before your birthday, she dawns her costume and gear with Iris close behind. What to hit first? The bank? The museum? The art gallery? Some rich pricks? So many choices!

●Which ever one she hits up first, she's in and out quick. Cutting through the glass, weaving through the security measures, creeping past the gaurds. Strolling the halls.. where is it? Where is it? Aha there it is! Only a couple feet in front of her sits a big shiny diamond in a glass casing. Her and Iris work their magic, and in a blink of an eye it's gone!

●Similar crimes spread throughout gotham city like a plague as the nights creep closer to your birthday. Wrapped stolen goods- gifts pile up in selinas apartment away from view.

●Jewelry stores are struck, being robbed of their most precious necklaces, rings, and bracelets that just so happen to complement your appearance oh so well! Some rich and wealthy are a few short on some fancy clothes, decorations, and collectors items.

●Then her last stops, some stores. Broad daylight.. buying some of the more specific things on your list! She can't go around stealing everything and pile up too much suspicion on her, can she?

●On your birthday you're greeted by a pile of gifts and selina sitting in your window sill. "Don't worry darling, I got some of them legally this time."

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#writers on tumblr #dc #btas x reader #Btas catwoman #catwoman #selina kyle #catwoman x reader #selina kyle x reader #hcs #Dweller's writing #gotham rogues #batman the animated series #btas

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your-nanas-house · 1 year

Note

Hello! I love your batfam stories and was wondering if you could possibly write a part 2 for "Missing Wife"? I don't really have any suggestions except for Selina Kyle getting her just desserts for her part in what happened to Jason's mom/Bruce's wife.

Hi! Of course, sorry if it took me so longgg. 🥺

Missing wife part 2

Pairing: Bruce Wayne X missing wife!Reader, Jason Todd & mom!Reader

Warnings: amnesia, pregnancy, prison, angst, fluff

Words:

Summary: Part 2 of Missing wife

Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

......................................................................

Bruce's gaze softened as soon as he met her y/e/c eyes, he finished helping her before continuing the sentence "no problem..I'm Bruce, Bruce Wayne" he introduced himself again like he did years before.

Bruce was aware of what had happened and of her condition because he had spoken to the doctor who had told him everything and also given him suggestions on how to treat it.

From the pallor that appeared on her face, however, he could tell that she remembered something because she jumped up embarrassed, apologizing to him and treating him exactly as everyone else did but Bruce didn't want that, he wanted everything to go back to the way it had been years before, with her in his arms and in the pictures hanging all over the manor.

The billionaire wanted so much but he had to wait, to be patient and he knew it, that's why he had brought Jason with him to try and unlock some memories.

The young boy ran quickly to his mother, smiling excitedly. He couldn't hold back himself, his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly "mama!" he exclaimed, stopping when he realized that the woman he was hugging was looking at him strangely and confused, touching his face and hair before a light hit her face making her realize everything and hug the child tightly.

Several months after the meeting Bruce had on the same day he sent Catwoman to prison the man went to see her, there were no words or regrets, his serious face remained the whole time as he threw a newspaper on the table and walked away leaving Selina alone to read the headline of it which turned out to be more than one "Mrs Wayne back in town" "Mr and Mrs Wayne are pregnant" "The happy couple back on the front pages" "'Love at first sight' words of Bruce Wayne".

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover

#gotham #gotham x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne #batman x you #batman x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd #selina kyle

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sporadically-writing · 1 year

Conversation

Y/N: The first time I saw you, you stole my heart.

Selina: But I'm a kleptomaniac, so that doesn't mean anything.

#selina kyle x reader #catwoman x reader #incorrect gotham rogues #incorrect batman quotes

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vrednic · 2 years

Text

seeking vengeance - part two

summary: the batman (2022) reimagined. deceased reporter, edward elliot, has left his beloved daughter behind, and she is determined to pick up where her father left off. by using her father’s research and the riddler’s clues, her ultimate goal is to further expose gotham’s corruption and bring her father’s killer to light in the process.

pairing: batman x f!reader

warnings: language, violence, nsfw descriptions

word count: 6.1k

a/n: just sit back and enjoy ;)

masterlist

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You made it back to your apartment a couple of minutes past midnight. Your fingertips were nearly frozen at the tips, your cheeks and nose flushed red, stinging from the cold. You were greeted with a comforting gust of heat the second you walked through your front door. You took a moment to silently thank the individual who had created air conditioning.

Shutting the door behind you, making your way through your living room. You took the hallway to the left, which led to your bedroom. You sauntered through your bedroom door, not even bothering to turn on the light. The mere sight of your bed invited a wave of sleepiness over you, but you were sweaty and uncomfortable, and refused to soil your expensive sheets with the contaminants that you had no doubt acquired throughout the day. You kicked your high heels off and nudged them to the corner of your bed, even though your open closet resided only a couple of feet away. You could no longer bring yourself to do more than the bare minimum.

Tomorrow’s problem, you assured yourself.

You walked in the direction of the bathroom, which was conveniently tucked in the corner of your room, to the left of your bed. Your hands reached to the zipper resting on the small of your back and tugged it down, allowing you to peel out of the dress with ease. You removed your undergarments and tossed them in the dirty laundry basket, along with the satin dress you were wearing moments ago. Using the touchscreen located on the wall, you adjusted the water temperature and pressure with a few simple taps. The shower head came to life, releasing a thick sheet of water, which flowed in a wide, steady pattern downwards. You slid the glass door open wide enough to let yourself through, and the tension in your shoulders dissolved almost instantly.

The hot water coated you in a sensual embrace, warming you all over, and you felt pleasurable shivers when you leaned backwards, the droplets landing on your breasts and caressing your nipples. You used a pump of lavender shampoo and lathered it into your hair, massaging your scalp with delicious pressure. You grabbed the pink sponge hanging on the golden shower caddy and applied your favorite body wash to it, working it into your skin, which was now tender and warm. You rinsed off shortly after and turned the water off. You saw steam rising from your arm as you reached for the towel that hung on the hook next to the shower door. You patted yourself dry and wrapped the towel around your body, exiting the bathroom.

Your bedroom was still enveloped in darkness, which is why you didn’t notice him at first. He stood beside the window next to your bed, watching you intently. Waiting.

You crossed the room and flicked the light switch by your bedroom door, soft yellow light illuminating it. When you turned to walk back to your closet, you nearly let out a blood-curdling shriek. You sank against the wall, a hand pressed against your chest, which thrummed loudly due to your erratic heartbeat.

The Batman didn’t look the least bit bothered by the obvious disruption he had caused. He stood rigidly by the window, his mouth set in a displeased line.

“Jesus,” you snapped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Instead of answering your question, he took a couple of stiff steps towards you, stopping just close enough that you could see the slow rise and fall of his chest each time he took a cold, intimidating breath.

He spoke now. “What were you doing at the Iceberg Lounge tonight?” His tone implied that he wasn’t asking– he was demanding.

You let out a sharp laugh, but it lacked humor. “What’s it to you?”

He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours. “You’re not going back there. Gil Colson isn’t good company to keep.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly hyper aware that you were standing in a towel with wet, dripping hair, with The Batman right in front of you. Despite this uncomfortable observation, you were determined not to let him intimidate you.

“How did you even know I was there?” A pause. “Were you following me?”

“I have a source.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then you were hit with a punch of realization. “The woman in the red wig. You sent her.”

This time he didn’t respond.

You shook your head in disbelief. “What, so you just expect me to divulge the information you need without any sort of protest?” You ran your hand through your damp hair in frustration. “I have questions I want answered too, you know? Starting with how you know where I live and how the hell you managed to get inside.”

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked bluntly.

His question was abrupt, and it startled you. It took you a few seconds before you could respond. “No. I’m not afraid of you,” you managed at last. And it was the truth. That night at the subway station had been the first and only time you had seen him. Despite his dark, uninviting physical appearance and his cold, calculating tone, his presence was… comforting. “But that doesn’t mean I trust you,” you added. “Hell, I don’t even know who you are. And I get that's the concept behind the mask. You’re Gotham’s Dark Knight, and I admire that. And I’m grateful for what you did for me that night at the subway station, but I still don’t understand why you’re here or why we’re even having this conversation.”

He shut his eyes momentarily, and you were sure he was going to turn around and leave. But he didn’t. His eyes remained closed for a few counts, and when he finally opened them, his blue eyes sliced into yours.

“I haven’t been following you,” he assured you, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “But I’ve checked in every now and again. To make sure you’ve made it home safe.”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you were too taken aback by his confession to analyze what it meant. You simply stared back at him expectantly, urging him to continue.

He swallowed. When he spoke again, his voice was once again guarded, closed off. “There’s no shortage of crime in this city. I can’t be everywhere. You should invest in more reliable means of transportation.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Thanks for the tip.”

“As for tonight,” he continued. “I didn’t know you’d be there. I sent Selina to the 44-Below on an assignment. And coincidentally, you were sitting at the same table as the people she went there to investigate.”

You pondered this for a moment. “I guess that makes sense.”

Now it was his turn to look at you expectantly. “Your turn.”

This time you did roll your eyes. “Can I at least go change first? I just got out of the shower and I’m freezing.”

“No.”

You threw your arms up in the air and turned, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, once again wrapping your arms around your front to keep it from fluttering open. You looked up at him, annoyed. “I was there for the same reason your sexy spy was. Research.” Before he could press you for more information, you added, “And don’t ask me to elaborate, because it’s personal.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, a clear signal of annoyance. But he didn’t force you to say anything more, just like you’d asked. He turned mechanically, his long black cape flowing as he made his way out of your bedroom and toward your front door. You were hot on his heels, following to make sure he went out and stayed out.

He tugged your door open, but paused in between the door frame. He half turned to you, his leather clad hand still wrapped the doorknob.

“Another tip?” he announced coldly. “Don’t forget to lock your door.”

And then he was gone. You didn’t dare peer out to see in which direction he had gone. Instead you slammed the door so hard it vibrated, and made sure to secure the lock and deadbolt in place.

Asshole.

—-----------------------------------------—————

“Turn left at the next street, please,” you instructed the taxi driver.

You sat in the backseat of a taxi, hands fiddling with the small black clutch on your lap. You were on your way to Mayor Mitchell’s memorial. The event had been in the works since the announcement of MItchell’s murder, and it quickly became a very big deal. A massive turnout of people was expected– especially highly-respected government officials and other influential city figures. Daily Gotham instructed every available reporter to attend and document as much of it as possible. For once, you were going to be one of the lucky ones working the front lines.

Although you were glad to finally be getting in on a piece of the action, your mood was somber. Probably because you were on your way to a massive church to take pictures and ask people questions about a dead guy who you hadn’t even thought twice about until today.

You stared down at your outfit to peel yourself away from your less-than-cheery thoughts. Your hair was pinned in a simple, yet elegant updo. You wore a modest black lace dress, and your feet were tucked in shiny black flats. Your makeup was minimal too: a thin coat of mascara, light coverage foundation, pale blush, and clear gloss on your lips.

You gave the driver another set of directions. “You can pull over up ahead. Before the crosswalk.”

He did as instructed, guiding the vehicle to an open parking spot just before the end of the curb. You handed him a twenty dollar bill and told him to keep the change. You stepped out of the cab and shut the door gently behind you, the driver taking off immediately, probably eager to find his next customer.

You saw the church up ahead, and the parking lot in front of it was littered with police cars. They left a thin lane by the front steps unblocked, undoubtedly for the important individuals who would be chauffeured to the event. As if on cue, a caravan of black vehicles turned the corner in the direction of the church, cruising through the open lane and stopping at the front long enough to allow their passengers to exit. As you walked closer to the cathedral-looking building, you were able to make out some of the people as they were screened and escorted inside by the cops.

Carla Diaz, one of the women you briefly sat with last night at the 44-Below. Carmine Falcone. Oswald Cobblepot – aka The Penguin, as he was famously nicknamed – the owner of the Iceberg Lounge.

You could also see the gate that had been propped up in front of the left wing of the church. You heard heated chanting, and your heart sunk when you saw protesters with signs splotched with red paint and eerily familiar symbols. No more lies, the signs read. Reporters had been conveniently placed in front of the crowd of the Riddler’s supporters. They were crowded in a small square beside the entrance, and they all spoke over each other, snapping photos and frantically begging the arriving individuals to walk over and indulge them by answering their questions. But as noisy as they were, even they couldn’t drown out the sound of the angry mob behind them.

Mister Wayne? Over here, Mister Wayne! Could we please have a moment of your time?

Your head snapped in the direction of the commotion. You did a double take when you saw Bruce Wayne exit his vehicle and hand the keys to a valet worker, who handed him a small slip of paper in return. He was a famous orphan whose family had a history of philanthropy. He expressed very little interest in the lavish life of a socialite. He kept to himself, so it came as a surprise to you that he was even here. Unlike other famous city figures, Bruce Wayne didn’t like basking in the spotlight. Because of this, he did most of his work behind the scenes. He had made generous donations to city programs and charities that his family had worked with in the past, but things had been eerily quiet on his end for the last couple of years. He was almost as hard of a man to find as The Batman himself.

You couldn’t help but watch him as he ascended the church steps; his shoulders were hunched, his head tilted down, doing his best to avoid being approached. You saw him attempt to move past the officers guarding the door to the church, but he was blocked and immediately surrounded by four officers who had seemingly come out of nowhere. Bruce wore a solemn expression on his face, but he was most definitely exasperated. He corrected his posture, pushing his wide shoulders back, towering over the men that were denying him entry.

Carmine Falcone appeared at the entrance and engaged in a brief exchange with the guards and Bruce Wayne. Whatever he said must have worked, because they stepped out of the way and let Bruce through. You couldn’t blame them for being cautious– they were doing their job, after all. Ensuring that the event was safe for the attendees, given the Riddler’s never-ending taunts and recent attacks, was top priority. And taking into consideration that Bruce Wayne had not been seen at an event of this magnitude in over two years, you completely understood why the public was beginning to forget what he looked like.

You climbed the steps and merged into the line of people waiting to be screened and allowed entry inside. Once you got to the front, you showed the guard your Daily Gotham identification card, and another guard walked over to escort you to the section reserved for the press. You passed row after row of pews, where there were no spots left unfilled. You glanced up at the immensely high ceiling, your attention momentarily caught by the alluring artwork adorning it. The guard finally came to a stop, ushering you into a pew with your fellow reporters.

You had a pretty good view of the altar, where an enlarged photo of Mayor Mitchell resided next to his closed casket. You looked around the vast space, trying to make out familiar faces in the crowd. The late mayor’s wife and son were seated in the first pew on the left hand side of the church, maybe six or seven rows in front of you. Government officials and city figures sat in the first couple rows on the right hand side. Almost everyone in the pews at the back of the church were common folks who had arrived early enough to snag a decent seat.

An announcement cut over the loudspeaker, but the chatter in the room drowned out most of what was said. You assumed they were announcing the start of the service, so you sank down in your seat, exchanging polite smiles with the reporters sitting around you while you waited. You opened the clutch in your lap and pulled out a small recording device. It felt invasive, recording audio of a funeral, knowing all too well what the mayor’s family – especially his young son – was experiencing. You flicked the ringer button on the side of your phone, silencing it. You leaned forward and turned your head towards the back of the church. The doors had been shut, and there was significantly less shuffling around the perimeter. A melancholic silence befell the crowd. There were only a handful of people still working their way through the pews, trying to find their seats.

Distant cries cut through the eerie silence. But they weren’t cries of grief or sorrow– they were cries of terror. And they seemed to be coming from beyond the front doors. The helpless screams continued, increasing in volume, accompanied by an aggressive, mechanical noise, which sounded like the rumble of an engine. Everyone in the church began to rise in panic, their gazes darting all around, trying to find the source of the disruption. You felt your body temperature dip with concern, shaky hands hoisting you up to a standing position. The commotion continued, but still no one knew where it was coming from. You took a moment to glance at the other guests, feeling momentary relief in the fact that you were not experiencing this alone. As you scanned the terrified audience, your gaze landed on Bruce Wayne, whose eyes met yours at the same moment.

Something registered in his expression– familiarity? Shock? Those deep blue eyes assessed you with intensity. You didn’t have much time to analyze what it meant, because your thoughts were cut short by a brutal crash.

A black SUV rammed through the front doors of the church at full speed, and you watched, horrified, as people attempted to dive out of the way to avoid being run over. The SUV flailed recklessly in every direction, losing control, hitting the arrangement of pews on your side so hard that one of the wooden benches was flipped and launched against you. You toppled over and hit the ground hard, hitting your head on the sharp corner of something. You laid stunned for a moment, disorientation clouding your vision. The vehicle had finally come to a stop after it slammed against one of the thick marble columns beside the altar. A chorus of terrified shrieks echoed inside the church now.

You weakly pushed yourself up to a sitting position. You observed the quick blur of motion as the police made its way to the front of the church. There was a lot of shouting, but you couldn’t make out any of what was said. Your vision tipped and turned, the world in front of you swimming in and out of focus. You took several deep breaths, focusing on not passing out. Disoriented as you were, you knew that this was the absolute worst time and place to lose consciousness.

Sharp, high-pitched ringing sounded in your ears, sending a fresh wave of pain to the base of your skull. There was more commotion now, but the ringing drowned it out, as if everything were occurring under water. Despite your muffled hearing, there were two words which you were able to pick up clear as day.

Out. Now.

As if one cue, everyone in the church began exiting in a frenzy. You stood and dragged yourself slowly, lamely, to the ground, before being knocked down by the force of the mob. You landed on your arm this time, a sharp pain shooting from your wrist to your elbow. You attempted to roll to a sitting position, but it was no use. You had been rendered immobile.

It was then that a pair of strong arms slid under your body and hauled you up with ease. Suddenly you were flush against someone’s warm chest, bouncing lightly, their feet moving with haste. Your eyes had fallen shut, but you were able to pry them open just enough to catch a flash of stubble dotted along a strong, defined jaw, and dark hair. As if sensing your gaze, the individual peered down at you.

“Stay awake, will you?” The voice sounded familiar. It was low, sexy, masculine.

You knew you were outside because you felt the cold prickle your skin like tiny needles. You heard sirens closing in on you, rattling your eardrums to the point of discomfort. Suddenly you felt another pair of hands on you. You felt the warm touch of the individual who had helped you to safety slip away, replaced by a cold, hard surface.

Gloved hands peeled your eyes open, shining an obnoxious light on them. Your vision was so blurry that the face of the paramedic standing above you refused to come into focus. She spoke gently, firmly, but you weren’t listening. You felt yourself slipping away now. It wasn’t long before you found yourself giving in to the darkness, plunging deeply into the black abyss.

—--------------------------------------———————

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself surrounded by white walls and bright lights. Your head rested on a floppy pillow, and when you tipped your head down to take in the rest of the room, you felt a rush of dread. Then it all came back to you.

The cab ride. The mayor’s memorial. The vehicle plowing through everything in its path. Falling and hitting your head. Attempting to flee, getting pushed to the ground. Being carried to safety by a stranger.

And now you were here.

You peered down at yourself, finding your body dressed in a white hospital gown, covered in – you guessed it – thin white hospital sheets. Your arm had also been carefully wrapped and placed in a sling across your chest. You became ridiculously aware of the dryness of your mouth, and when you tipped your head towards the bedside table, you found a small bottle of water and an oatmeal cookie on a tray, begging for your consumption. You tried pushing yourself to a sitting position, but were immediately overcome with a ridiculous pressure pushing against your temples and small black dots danced across your field of vision. You laid back down and opted for using the handy remote tucked on the side of the bed to lift yourself to a position where you could down food and water without choking.

The head of the bed rose to your desired angle and you reached toward the tray, dragging it closer until the table rested in front of you. You twisted the cap off of the tiny water bottle, using the same remote to surf through the channels while you took a few tentative sips. You clicked the down button repeatedly, only stopping when a bright orange news headline flashed on the screen. You set the remote down after turning the volume up, your eyes fixating on the images on the screen.

You watched as camera footage made you revisit the day’s events from an spectator’s perspective. The camera captured the SUV recklessly turning into the church parking lot, ramming into the side of two police cars, only to race up the steps and barrel through the church doors. The footage didn’t include a continuation of what had happened inside, but you already knew. You had a nasty concussion and a fractured arm to prove it.

The news broadcasting cut to an image acquired by a police officer’s body cam, and the sight made your blood run cold. It was Gil Colson, mouth taped shut, blood dripping from his head, a bomb wrapped tightly around his neck. The image disappeared, replaced by a video of Batman standing stiffly across Colson, speaking to the Riddler through a phone that had been taped to Colson’s palm. Moments later, there was an explosion that hurled the Batman backwards with force. The blast had rendered him unconscious, and according to the headlines, there was no news about whether he had survived the explosion.

You felt bile rise in your throat, anxiety twisting your stomach painfully. Your thoughts began to race, and suddenly whatever the news anchors were discussing now seemed unimportant. You couldn’t help but feel completely consumed by fear. He had to be okay, right?

You did your best to assure yourself, but the reality was that you couldn’t be sure. You had only spoken to him twice, but in that short time, you had become… invested. He was dark, mysterious. But also incredibly alluring. His voice, his sultry gaze. He had a hold on you that you couldn’t quite explain. His determination to protect the city had been one of the many things that made you admire him, but now the thought of it made you feel unnerved.

He was clever, strategic. He’d never walk into something knowing he might be in over his head. Would he?

Two solid knocks sounded at the door, snapping you away from your thoughts. A slender, middle-aged woman with dark auburn hair stepped into the room, shutting the door gently behind her. A pair of black glasses rested on the bridge of her nose, and when she smiled, small but prominent wrinkles formed around her eyes.

“I see you’re awake,” she stated politely. “I’m Doctor Rollins. Do you know why you’re here, Miss Elliott?”

You nodded, meeting her eyes warily. “I was at the memorial service when the car…” you swallowed. “I fell and hit my head. I tried to get up, but was trampled by the crowd, and hurt my arm. The details get hazy from here, but I know someone got me out. I don’t remember much after that.”

She nodded, her lips pressed in a slight frown. She stepped forward, stopping beside the bed. Dr. Rollins slid the tray you had placed in front of you out of the way, inching closer and inspecting the gauze on your head, above your temple.

“May I?” she asked, searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded again, sitting still as she peeled back the adhesive and peered under the sterile cloth, examining your wound. She peered at it for a few counts and then put the gauze back in its place.

“The cut seems to be healing quite nicely. No excessive bleeding or discharge.” She pulled a small flashlight from her coat pocket, instructing you to follow her finger with your eyes as it moved from side to side, then up and down. “You did suffer a pretty severe concussion, so I’d definitely take it easy for the next two weeks, maybe a little longer if you can afford it. Your brain needs time to rest and heal.” She stepped back, assessing you with a soft, almost maternal gaze. “Since everything looks good, I can go ahead and have a nurse bring you a discharge form, if you’d like? You can stay another night for observation, but I don’t believe it will be necessary. What you need is rest, and I’m sure you’d rather get better in the comfort of your own home than be stuck in a noisy, bland place like this.”

You couldn’t help the smile that surfaced on your lips. “Yeah, I’d like that,” you agreed.

She returned the grin and turned on her heel, cracking the door open just enough to allow her small figure through, and slipped out the door.

—--------------------------------------------————

Concussion recovery sucked.

The nurse who had gone over the discharge paperwork with you had given you a hefty list of things to avoid during your recovery. Absolutely no screen time, no exposure to bright lights or sounds, no abrupt or harsh movements of your head and neck, and lots of rest.

The first couple of days were great. Of course, you still had a fractured arm and a jumbled brain, but you were relieved to have nothing to do but lounge around your apartment for a change. Like your late father, you were a workaholic, fully immersing yourself in whatever you were doing. Employers had appreciated your timeliness and dedication, but more often than not, you found yourself being pushed to your limits and eventually relying solely on autopilot. You had taken this time off of work to indulge in the self care that the magazines you read were always raving about.

You lit the sugar cookie scented candle that you had been gifted for your birthday and took your first ever bubble bath. You read through an entire row of books on your bookshelf and made chamomile tea, which you sipped as you peered out onto the city from your balcony. Since you couldn’t watch tv, you dug the old radio from the depths of your closet, and after heavily dusting it, realized it was still in working order. You clicked through the stations every couple hours, hoping that someone – anyone – had news about the Batman. After an agonizing thirty-six, your fears had finally been extinguished. He had been out cold for several minutes, but he walked away from the explosion unscathed. Lucky bastard.

Unfortunately, his interference in the Colson situation was not taken well by the police. There had been an APB issued against him, and your guess was that he was lying low until the cops found something more important to occupy their time.

So, in theory, everything was good and well, except it wasn’t. You had become bored, and when you experienced boredom, you turned into an antsy mess. You paced around your living room, fluffing the decorative pillows on your couch for the fifth time in ten minutes. The door leading to the balcony had been propped open; you’d hoped the fresh air would snap you out of your frenzy. But so far it wasn’t working. You looked around your apartment for things to do. Your bedroom had been organized, your closet color coded, your bathroom deep cleaned, your paperwork filed, mail sorted, dishes washed. What the hell were you supposed to do with yourself now.

“If you keep spinning in circles like that, you’re gonna give yourself another concussion.”

You whirled around in the direction of the voice, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of the Batman standing at the edge of your balcony. Your acknowledgment of his presence is all it takes for him to close the distance between you. He came to a stop three feet in front of you, his blue eyes examining the fresh gauze on your head, the sling covering your arm. He met your gaze, a strange softness in his eyes.

“You can’t seem to stay out of trouble, can you?” He asked, but the question was all rhetorical.

“Speak for yourself,” you retorted. “That was some stunt you pulled, nearly getting yourself killed playing the hero.”

His lips twitched, as if he was fighting a smile. “But it wasn’t for nothing.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, well, you are now a wanted man because of it.”

“Am I?” he mumbled, taking a step forward.

You could feel the warmth radiating off of him, which caressed your skin deliciously. You were close enough to see the sexy curve of his lips, which were parted slightly. His perfect, symmetrical nose. And those enchanting blue orbs, which had darkened significantly due to your proximity. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest and you prayed it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear. You hated to admit it, but the attraction was getting to you now. You wanted to slide your hands up his armored chest and brush your lips against his. You wanted to hear him growl with desire for you. The image was so hot, so vivid, it made you lightheaded. You took a step back, hoping some distance would erase the butterflies in your stomach and the inconvenient pulse between your legs.

The Batman straightened, as if he, too, had been stuck in a trance. He remained tall and confident, but his tone now held a guarded edge. “Do you want to know why I’m here?”

Ever-so-slightly, you nodded.

“I’m here because Y/N Y/L/N doesn’t exist.”

Your heart dropped right out of your ass. “W-what do you mean?”

You hated the way your voice faltered, and hated how you could barely look him in the eye anymore. In truth, your fake identity wasn’t this big, earth-shattering secret. The sole purpose of the alternate persona was to keep yourself out of the spotlight. You didn’t have any skeletons in your closet, but you didn’t want people asking questions, either. Especially when it came to your father’s research and for the reason you intended to use it. If the Batman could figure out that Y/N Y/L/N was a farce, what was stopping others from doing the same?

“I ran a background check on you after our last conversation,” he explained calmly. “I’m working with Commissioner Gordon to bring the Riddler down before he can do any more harm. I can’t do that if I don’t have access to the full picture. I wanted to be satisfied with the answers you gave me, but it wasn’t enough. There were too many questions regarding your involvement.”

“What did you find?” you couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“Nothing,” he said blandly. “That’s what caught my attention. I knew where you worked, so I accessed records from Daily Gotham and used the information as a foundation for the background check. I entered your credentials and it bounced. There was no record of a Y/N Y/L/N in Gotham CIty.”

Tears prickled your eyes. “So what are you gonna do? Blackmail the information out of me? Threaten to out me to my job just so I can come clean about something you’re convinced I’m involved in?” Your words were laced with anger, but there was unmistakable hurt behind them.

The Batman grabbed your good arm gently and led you to the couch, urging you to sit down. You raised your shaky hand to wipe away a tear that had managed to escape. He knelt down in front of you, assessing you with the same softness from moments ago.

He spoke gently this time. “I don’t think you’re involved in anything. I just need you to tell me the truth so I can keep you safe.”

You felt idiotic for the way your heart soared after hearing him utter those words. You wanted him, there wasn’t a single doubt about that. You also trusted him. But you were afraid you were mistaking his kindness for something completely different. You'd be damned if you made a fool of yourself by expressing your feelings only to find out he didn’t reciprocate them. For now, you had to keep him at an emotional distance. Even though you couldn’t confess your feelings yet, you no longer felt good about lying to him, especially since he already knew the partial truth.

“Maia Elliott,” you whispered, unable to meet his eyes. “That’s my real name.”

When he didn’t immediately jump the gun to bombard you with questions, you gained the confidence to continue. “My father was a reporter. He was free-lancing at the time, taking jobs here and there. Around the time that Thomas Wayne was running for mayor, he had been hired to uncover hidden truths about the Wayne’s and the Arkham’s. My father’s employer had asked him to dig deeper because he intended to use the information to skew the election. He had some sort of vendetta against Thomas Wayne.” Your hands had begun to shake, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself. “My father was a good man. He had always valued justice. Whatever he found must have been serious, because suddenly he wanted out. But it was too late.”

You lifted your gaze, finding the Batman regarding you attentively, hanging on to your every word. You maintained eye contact, even as the tears started tumbling down your cheeks. “He was murdered two weeks before the election. I’ve read through his notes countless times, but I still can’t make sense of them. All he had written down were names, places. That’s why I was at the Iceberg Lounge that night. Gil Colson had been on the list, and I was hoping he’d help me find my next lead. But so far I have nothing,” you admitted, defeated.

The Batman reached for your hand, giving it a light squeeze. When he spoke, his voice expressed genuine sincerity. “I’m sorry about your father.”

“While I appreciate that, us feeling sorry about it isn’t going to bring him back. I just want to find out who killed him, and I want to make them pay.”

He nodded in understanding. “You can count on my help,” he assured you. “But I need you to do something for me.”

You eyed him curiously. “What?”

“You have to stay out of it.”

You shot to your feet, prepared to protest, but his touch sucked the argument right out of your mouth. He ran a gloved hand through a thin strand of your hair, which he placed between his thumb and pointer finger. He followed its length downward, letting it fall beside your neck, on top of your collar bone.

“Do you trust me?” he murmured, those blue eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation.

“Yes, but–”

He stepped back, giving you a curt nod of approval. “Good.” he said, stopping whatever excuse you were working so hard to come up with. “I’ll be in touch.”

He turned and walked to your balcony, intending on leaving the same way he had arrived. He flicked one last look in your direction.

And just like that, he was gone– his dark silhouette blending in with the night sky.

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howl-fantasies · 2 years

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Now that I think about it, [name] is kinda like batman 🤔

They both act totally whorish 😆, kinda goofy, but in reality those are all an act to hide their true level of skill and intelligence.

They are both dedicated their life to study all kinds of knowledge no matter how obscure.

They have also dedicated their life to protect Gotham, one way or another.

Both super paranoid, I'm willing to bet they have an emergency plan to save Gotham if ever aliens decided to come to Earth

They both have super emo-ish hot bitches, and they would literally adopt children left and right.

All [name] needs is to form herself a team of badguys, find herself a best friend that she has more chemistry with than her own lover (reference to the fact batman x green lantern (Hal), batman x Constantine, batman x superman have more chemistry than batman x Catwoman (based of animated series)).

🦇

Aaaah a very good comparison here too thank you so much for sharing it! 🦇

>> I think you're right, Y/N has many things in common with him when you look at it. They're like two sides of the same shady coin, him tending most of the time to the good side, and her the bad.

>> Luring people with their whorish - goofy personalities, hell yes! Though, Bruce is better than her at it I think since he had the chance to have a "healthy" - as much as it's possible in Gotham- family and normal/loving interactions with his parents. Y/N's goofy side is more calculated. You said once in one of your posts that she acts by mimicry, watching shows/games to get inspire by them and coping them later. I think it 100% accurate. Her whorish side is true though 😂 she's a proud bad bitch, like Bruce.

>> Even if the two have history, since I made them knowing each other since Bruce was a teenager, I think they respect each other because of their skills and fine intelligence. Even if Y/N is a villain, I'm pretty sure she'll be ok to help Batman sometimes, when Joker is threatening the whole city for example.

She's bad, yes, but working so long with Carmine convinced her to try to maintain a sort of good-bad balance for Gotham. So if she has to help Batman in order to preserve it, it's fine with her. Bruce figured it out and knows she does good work so, if he has to call her from time to time to save the city, so be it. She used to work a few times with the GCPD and Gordon when he was a kid, so she knows how to not blow everything around her and make things a bit more legal. Kind of.

>> Of course they have a plan to save the city if aliens decide to join their little party one day. After hearing about Superman, Y/N stole some kryptonite. Just in case it works on other aliens (does she call Clark Alienman? Of course she does.) She also coaxed Ed to work with her on finding other materials which would potentially weaken other forms of life after studying the properties of the kryptonite stone. They may or may not also be in contact with Lucius about it, since he also works on it for Bruce. The three make a weird nerdy trio on this topic, but collaborate surprisingly well together.

>> What is funny about Selina and Victor, is that they are a subject of tension between Bruce and Y/N. Bruce is sure Y/N can be "saved" if she throws Victor away and follow one hell of a therapy. He's clearly delusional since we saw Y/N was even worse without him, but I think the billionaire still genuinely wants to believe he would be able to help. A bit like he's delusional with Harley.

>> Concerning Selina, don't get Y/N wrong, she appreciates the girl, but it's killing her to see the kicked puppy's eyes Bruce has every time he talks to her or think about her. Kyle makes me think of Yennifer in how she manipulates Bruce to gain what she wants 😂. Catwoman loves Batman in a twisted and absolutely toxic way. Y/N respects that (Morticia vibes here). But hearing Batman chastising her about her non-healthy relationship with Zsasz makes her see red and she HAS, every TIME, to remind him he isn't that different with his leather lover girl. And she's right. She knows it, he knows and doesn't like it one bit.

>> The stray children thing is so funny and so right. Both of them make me think of teenagers from anime finding a cardbox full of stray cats and taking it home even if they don't have time nor experience to take care of them.

>> Hahaha! She'll have to work on her badboys team!

>> Concerning the best friend, I think Ed has the role so far.

>> The two make one hell of a team when they are on the same side and I love their jests. I think Y/N genuinely likes Edward and Riddler, even if she's a pest with them. She's feral with protecting Ed's most sensitive side from deceiving lovers. I mean look at him, he's so adorable it would be a shame to ruin his dorkness! He deserves a dorky lover as cutely weird as his softer side.

She also like Riddler's spice and enormous ego, he's a breeze of fresh air, truly. Their riddles contests never end well because she never gives him the answer he wants. But since they still make sense he has to recognize she has one valid answer, not that she's correct though. The most horrifying one for him still is the : "The more you cut me, the more I grow. What am I?" "Victor". See? Valid answer but not the one he wanted 🤣

What do you think about it? I love how you write their complicated relationship! Thank you so much for that too! 💐

#gotham #gotham imagine #gotham x reader #gotham fox #victor zsasz #victor zsasz imagine #victor zsasz x reader #gotham fandom #gotham villains #Batman fox #gotham bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #selina kyle

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marivelsblog1503 · 10 days

Text

☾︎ Prólogo: ☾︎

«— Todo lo que había pasado ese día fue una tragedia, quedando así un trauma y un profundo dolor.

Se suponía que solo iba a ser una misión para vigilar al Joker, pero, tan solo unos minutos y los dos ayudantes de Batman estaban en problemas.

— Basta, déjala ella no tiene nada que ver en esto. —

La voz de Jason sonaba quebrada, no le importaba si aquel psicópata veía como sus lágrimas caían, estaba atado a una silla y malherido, pero eso no le implicaba tener la fuerza necesaria para poder desatar.

No era sus heridas las cuales le dolían, si no ver como su novia estaba siendo torturada por aquel payaso, golpe tras golpe con una palanca, Sparrow era una de los superhéroes más fuertes que conocía, pero...

En este caso no era así.

— Hermoso rostro, cuerpo espectacular, lindos labios — decía el Joker sonriendo cínicamente, su mano recorría la mejilla de aquella chica, sin importarle que estuviera cubierta de sangre — Está noche te divertirás precioso pajarito. —

— No, no, no — repetía la chica muy asustada, Joker le colocó una mordaza para qué dejar de hablar, pero, ella definitivamente no tenía la fuerza necesaria para escapar de aquel lugar junto con su compañero y novio.

El payaso estaba a punto de besar los labios de la chica — DÉJALA YA — el grito de Jason se hizo presente por toda la bóveda y definitivamente eso no le gusto al Joker.

— Uno de los pajaritos de Bats aún tiene fuerza de voluntad para interrumpir mi maravilloso momento — El Joker se acercaba lentamente al segundo chico maravilla — Pero descuida, siempre tengo tiempo para uno más de ustedes. —

Ahora era él a quien estaba torturando, sentía como sus costillas se le rompían, incluso se le dificultaba respirar y que apenas podía mantener los ojos abiertos.

— Vaya eso parece que dolió, de veras — aquel payaso no borraba su sonrisa macabra de su rostro, siguió golpeando al segundo chico maravilla mientras Sparrow gritaba a través de su mordaza deteniendo el acto del Joker — Esto es muy irónico, si me divierto con tu chica me distraes y si hago lo mismo contigo ella lo hace. —

Continuo torturando al chico haciendo que la joven llorara por su novio, el Joker no lo dejaba ni un segundo y en verdad él se vio muy mal, ella solo trajo de convencerse de que era solo una horrible pesadilla, que se despertaría en cualquier momento y estaría en la mansión Wayne a lado de su novio, sanos ya salvos.

El verdadero nombre de Sparrow es Elizabeth Wayne Kyle, hija del multimillonario Bruce Wayne y la ex secretaria Selina Kyle, también es hermana de Dick Grayson aunque no comparten los lazos sanguíneos, pero se quieren y se protegen sensibles, al menos manera ella lo ve de esa.

Él junto con sus padres comenzó a entrenarla desde que tenía 8 años, pero al cumplir los 13 años tomo ella la decisión de ser una vigilante para así ayudar a las personas de Gotham City.

Pero ahora a sus 18 años, ya se estaba arrepintiendo de ser uno de ellos.

— Ups, aguarda, eso parece que dolió aún más — dijo el Joker deteniéndose unos segundos, incluso hizo que la chica dirigiera su mirada a la escena una vez más — Así que, tratemos de despejar esto ¿Está bien querido? — Pregunto el Joker — ¿Qué duele más? ¿A o B? ¿Derecho o revés? —

Cada pregunta que hacia una acción, el pobre Jason ya casi no tenía fuerzas y en cuanto a Elizabeth estaba llorando por el miedo y la preocupación que sintió al ver el estado demacrado del segundo chico maravilla, se escuchó la risa del Joker aunque el joven murmuro algo que casi no se escuchó, así que se acercó hasta él para escucharlo mejor.

— Un poco más alto jovencito, creo que puedes tener un pulmón colapsado, eso siempre impide la oratoria — dijo el Joker mientras revolvía el cabello de Robin, pero él escupió un poco de sangre en el horrible rostro del payaso y eso lo enojo, haciendo que chocara la cabeza del joven contra el suelo con fuerza — Eso fue grosero, el primer chico mantequilla tenía modales. —

El payaso comenzaba a limpiarse la sangre que estaba en su rostro y solamente recibió una sonrisa de parte del segundo Robin, si Sparrow no tenía aquella mordaza también se hubiera burlado.

— Voy a tener que darte una lección para que puedas seguir sus pasos — se quedó pensando unos segundos — ¡Nah! Solo voy a seguir golpeándote con esto. —

Ya no podía seguir viendo eso, Sparrow de una manera comenzaba a gritar otra vez un intento de “Detente” y en seguida el Joker puso su atención en ella de nuevo.

— Vaya, incluso con esa cosa en tu boca no puedes mantenerte en silencio, parece que ninguno de ustedes dos de hecho me va a dejar divertirme, bien, veamos que tan resistente eres realmente jovencita — el Joker se acercaba a la chica con la palanca , llena de la sangre de Jason.

La chica trajo de alejarse, pero, el payaso la detuvo — Descuida pequeña ave, tan solo quiero un poco de diversión antes de marcharme. —

Los sonidos de la palanca golpeando el cuerpo de la chica se hicieron presentes, al igual que los gritos Jason rogando a que se detuviera, pero, esta vez el Joker simplemente lo ignoro, quería que el chico maravilla viera el espectáculo, mientras que ese psicópata continuaba con su trabajo.

Ese día, ambos quedaron marcados de por vida.

«— En la Batcave, las horas se estaban siendo muy desesperadas para Dick, Selina y Alfred, la mujer lloraba por la angustia que estaba sintiendo en ese momento por el bienestar de su hija, que estaba a manos de aquel psicópata, Dick capturado de consolarla, pero, le era imposible, ya que él también estaba preocupado por el bienestar de sus hermanos, mientras que Batman estaba en camino a la ubicación donde se encontraba su hija y su protegida, tan solo faltaba unos minutos para llegar.

Solamente habían pasado horas desde que el Joker torturó a los jóvenes, pero sabía que su mayor enemigo estaba a punto de llegar y rescatar a sus aprendices.

— Está bien chicos me tengo que ir, aunque fue divertido ¿No es cierto? — dijo el Joker saliendo de la bóveda, pero era imposible que los jóvenes le iban a contestar, ya que no tenían fuerzas, de hecho estaban desmayados casi muertos en el lugar.

— Bueno tal vez fue más divertido para mí que para ustedes supongo, ya que han estado horriblemente callados, de todos modos sean buenos chicos, terminen su tarea y vayan a la cama a las nueve, y oigan... Díganle al grandulón que envié ... Saludos — el único gesto que hizo fue mostrarles una sonrisa a pesar de que ambos no lo estaban viendo, para así soltar su macabra y típica risa, y luego cerrar la puerta.

Al momento que ese psicópata se fue, Jason fue el primero en abrir los ojos, miro a su novia quien estaba muy malherida.

Sin pensarlo dio la vuelta para tratar de levantarse, aunque le costara un poco y por el gran dolor que sentía, pero, se estaba esforzando para ayudar y sacar a Elizabeth del lugar, mientras que a ella le costaba respirar y mantener los ojos abiertos.

— Eli — llamo el chico maravilla acercándose al cuerpo casi sin vida de su novia — Eli, debemos salir de aquí — comprobó su pulso, pero, era débil.

— J... Jay — murmuro ella, ya que le costó decir una sola palabra y es porque estaba perdiendo mucha sangre, no podía levantarse.

— Oye, todo va a estar bien ¿Si?, te prometo que te sacaré de aquí, pero debes resistir — en ese momento Jason intentó levantarse, pero fue inútil, él cayó al suelo.

Pensando en un plan rápido para salir del lugar, comenzó a arrastrarla, ya que no tenía más fuerzas para volverse a levantar y cargarla.

Jason no esperaba hacerlo de esta manera, pero ella estaba perdiendo más sangre al igual que él, pero eso no significaba que se iba a rendir tan fácilmente y poder salvarla, aún presenta las esperanzas de que Batman los rescatara.

Ya estando en la puerta se estiró un poco para abrir la puerta y aunque él estaba haciendo el mayor esfuerzo posible para abrirla, pero el Joker los había encerrado en la bóveda, ya dándose por vencido miro a su novia quien se había desmayado por la pérdida de sangre, él estaba preocupado y utilizado de idear un plan para salir.

Hasta que escucho aquel sonido...

Tik tak, tik tak, tik tak.

Él volteo para ver el artefacto y definitivamente era el sonido característico de una bomba a punto de explotar, tan solo faltaban cinco segundos para que explotara y Jason no dudo ni un segundo en colocar su cuerpo sobre el de Elizabeth para protegerla de la gran explosión que se avecinaba, si ese era sus últimos momentos con ella...

Al menos quería que se salvara, incluso si eso implicaba no estar físicamente con ella.

— Te amo con todo mi corazón, Elizabeth Wayne — esas fueron las últimas palabras de Jason Peter Todd.

Cuatro, tres, dos...

Uno.

¡BAM!

El murciélago estaba a punto de llegar a la bóveda cuando ocurrió, lo único que se podía ver eran escombros y el fuego en el lugar, sin pensarlo Batman se acercó al lugar para comenzar a buscarlos y miro una pila de escombros.

Pero con una mano debajo de ellos, en seguida se dirigió hasta los escombros donde se encontró y sabía que ahí se encontró su hija y protegida, hasta que los encontró y noto que ambos estaban inconscientes.

— No — de inmediato comprobó el pulso de cada uno, el de Elizabeth era muy débil, pero aún tenía posibilidades de vivir, lamentablemente no se pudo decir lo mismo de Jason quien no se le pudo encontrar el pulso.

— Jason — susurro el caballero afectado por la partida de otro Robin, pero sabía que esto afectaría muchísimo a Elizabeth.

No podía romper su código, pero lo que hizo el Joker jamás tuvo perdón.

«— Todo estaba oscuro y lo único que se podía escuchar, eran voces llenas de preocupación y miedo, Elizabeth no podía distinguirlas, pero si podía percibir ese sentimiento.

— Eli resiste . —

— todo va a estar bien cariño, estas a salvo ahora . —

— Debes despertar pequeña, eres mucho más fuerte que esto, así que resiste. —

— Está perdiendo pulso, rápido, al quirófano. —

— La perdemos, muévanse ya. —

— NO. —

Fue lo último que pudo escuchar, ¿Qué estaba pasando realmente? , esto se lo estaba preguntando, mientras que sus ojos se abrieron lentamente pudo presenciar que estaba recostada en una hamaca, se levanto lentamente y observo todo a su alrededor, notando que estaba en la mansión, miro a otra dirección rápidamente, ya que escucho la risa de Dick quien rodeaba la cintura de Barbara.

No solo estaban ellos, también estaban Bruce y Selina, mientras que Alfred estaba sirviendo el té, para Elizabeth era realmente cálido porque estaba en su hogar junto a su familia, aunque no pudo evitar asustarse porque unos brazos rodeo su cintura, volteó rápidamente y solo se tradujo de su novio.

— Estas tensa — se burló Jason, luego se acerco un poco para besar su mejilla.

— Lo siento es que... esto es muy tranquilo — dijo ella sonando menos preocupada.

— Oye te conozco desde que uso 12, ¿Qué ocurre? —Pregunto Jason abrazándola.

— Nada, enserio — Elizabeth solo estaba observando a su familia, aún seguía algo confundida, pero solo hizo de lado esa sensación y seguir en ese momento familiar — Te digo la verdad, me gusta este día, sin villanos, sin patrullajes y sin nada de qué preocuparnos, solo estamos en un tranquilo momento familiar. —

Él solamente la abrazo — Es cierto, aunque extraño patear traseros, pero, estar contigo vale la pena. —

— Es idea mía o el gran Jason Todd está siendo algo cursi — ella solo le sonrió.

— Tengo un lado poeta, ¿Qué puedo decirte? — ambos se rieron sin separarse de ese abrazo, no sin antes de sellar ese momento con un beso.

Son dos años de relación, las personas al saber que estos dos pensaron que era algo enfermizo que la hija de Bruce Wayne y su protegido estaban en una relación, ya que son hermanos adoptivos, pero, eso no los detuvo.

Aunque eso no les importaba, solo querían estar juntos, eso era todo lo que querían, pero, no todo puede ser felicidad ¿Cierto?

De pronto todo cambio una vez que se separaron, los dos ya no estaban en la mansión si no en un almacén abandonado, Eli noto que traía puesto su traje, sin mencionar que sentí un fuerte dolor por todo su cuerpo, miro a Jason en su traje de Robin y estaba peor que ella.

¿Por qué su mente jugaba con ella? , estaba pasando un tranquilo con toda su familia, pero todo se consiguió de solo un sueño.

— Te amo con todo mi corazón, Elizabeth Wayne — dijo Jason dejando escapar las lágrimas, mientras acariciaba la mejilla de la chica.

Ahora ella sintió más dolor que antes, incluso sintió que no podía respirar, lo que lleva a otra vez a la pregunta ¿Qué estaba pasando?

Otra vez, todo se torno negro.

Una intensa luz la había cegado solo por unos segundos, un olor intenso a analgésicos inundo su nariz, Elizabeth parpadeo un par de veces para así ver todo a su alrededor, lo primero que observo fueron las paredes de color blanco, también se sintió incómoda a causa de la camilla en la que estaba, incluso noto una aguja incrustada en el brazo.

En cuestión de segundos se había dado cuenta de que estaba en el hospital, pero, todo era confuso para ella y muchas preguntas invadieron su cabeza.

¿Qué había pasado con la misión?, ¿Por qué estaba en el hospital? Y la pregunta más importante, ¿Dónde estaba Jason?

La puerta se abrió de repente, sacándola de sus preguntas, quien había entrado a la habitación era Dick y entre sus manos traía un ramo de rosas, las cuales eran sus favoritas, pero él al ver a su hermana ya despierta no dudo en acercarse a ella y abrazarla.

— Me alegra muchísimo que estés bien — dijo Dick sin apartarse de aquel abrazo, aunque eso no evito que Elizabeth se quejara un poco — Lo lamento mucho, pero es que esto realmente me alegro, duraste 7 días inconsciente, pensamos que te habíamos perdido. —

— ¿Qué fue lo que me paso? — pregunto ella con curiosidad, ya que de muchas misiones en las que ha estado involucrada y algunas eran bastante peligrosas, esta era la primera cirugía que recibió estando en una de ellas.

Dick se dio la vuelta para cerrar la puerta con seguro, para así asegurarse de que nadie entrara — Bueno, fue una cirugía de alto riesgo — comenzó a explicar el primer Robin, en verdad no quería ocultarle nada a su hermana, a diferencia de Bruce que les pidió no decirle nada, por lo que Selina y él se negaron — Eli, tuviste una hemorragia interna, tuvieron que llevarte de emergencia al quirófano para detener el sangrado, no solo eso, dos de tus costillas están rotas. —

— No puede ser, entonces si tuve mucha suerte — ella sonrió, cosa que Dick devolvió el gesto — Pero, ¿Cómo se encuentra Jason?, ese maniático lo lastimo más que a mí, quiero verlo Dick — pidió ella mirándolo.

El primer chico maravilla sintió que en cualquier momento se iba a desmayar, pero ocultárselo sería algo inútil.

— Eli... — él tuvo que pensar muy bien de sus palabras, pero no había ninguna para explicar esta situación — Eli tú fuiste la única que sobrevivió a la explosión, Jason murió en la explosión, justo ahora están realizando la autopsia, lo lamento mucho. —

Lo que había escuchado la dejo en shock, pero...

No quería creerlo.

Ella solo negó con la cabeza y lágrimas no dudaron en aparecer — No, eso no es cierto, él estaba conmigo y aun seguía con vida, me estaba ayudando a salir de ese lugar, Dick esto es solo una de tus bromas, dime por favor que lo es — ella solo se negaba, quería levantarse y salir de la habitación, pero, debía afrontar la cruel realidad.

Dick al ver el estado de su hermana menor no dudo en abrazarla a lo cual ella correspondió, las heridas dolían, pero escuchar que Jason murió.

Esa fue la peor herida.

— Shhh, tranquila pequeña, estoy aquí — susurro Dick haciendo que Elizabeth lo abrazara con más fuerza.

De todas las personas que nacieron en una mano de ese psicópata...

¿Por qué Jason tuvo que ser otra víctima?

Esa era la pregunta importante, la cual no tenia una respuesta concreta.

«— Pasaron tres días y el dolor seguía ahí, este día era el funeral de Jason y Elizabeth no quería sepultar el recuerdo de su novio, no de esa manera y era muy temprano para despedirse de él, las únicas personas que asistieron al funeral fueron Alfred, Lucius y su hijo Luke, sin olvidar a su padre.

Mientras que Selina, Dick y Barbara estaban con Elizabeth cuidándola, mientras que ella acariciaba la cabeza de su cachorro de pastor alemán, el cual se lo había regalado Jason en su cumpleaños, aunque este pequeño estaba recostado a un lado de su dueña, la chica se estaba recuperando su cirugía, pero, de esta perdida si seria difícil de superar.

— ¿Quieres que te traiga algo de comer Eli? — pregunto Barbara, pero en cuanto a Elizabeth solo negó con la cabeza, ya que no tenía hambre.

— Llevas 3 días sin comer nada Elizabeth, debes recuperar un poco de energías — dijo Dick preocupaba mientras la miraba, aunque ella solo estaba observando la ventana.

Selina vio como su hija estaba cambiando y como ese dolor lo estaba guardando para si mismo, esto no seria fácil para ella, pero, como su madre no iba a dejarla sola en estos momentos.

Chicos podrían dejarme a solas con ella dijo Selina mirándolos, a lo que ambos no tienen de otra.

El primer chico maravilla solo se acerco a su hermana, para así besar su frente — Vendré más tarde, te traeré un poco de tu comida favorita y podremos ver toda una maratón de Harry Potter. —

Ella solo asintió, Dick y su prometida salió de la habitación, dejando a madre e hija solas, aunque la chica no pudo contener más sus lágrimas, el cachorro solo pudo lamer la mano de su dueña, en cuanto a Selina acariciaba el cabello de su hija con delicadeza.

— ¿Por qué tuvo que pasar esto? — se preguntaba Elizabeth aún llorando — Él quería ir a la universidad, queríamos iniciar una nueva vida fuera de Gotham, todo lo que paso en ese lugar fue mi culpa mamá. —

Las lágrimas no paraban de salir, el sufrimiento la estaba quemando por dentro, lo único que quería ella en este momento era pensar que todo se trató de un terrible engaño y estar una vez más en los brazos de su novio, Selina por otra parte solo abrazo a su hija.

— Nada de lo que paso es tu culpa — dijo Selina acariciando el cabello de Elizabeth una vez más — El destino a veces puede ser incluso cruel con las personas, incluso si debe quitarte a la persona que amas, pero, siempre debemos ponernos de pie y seguir adelante, aunque duela aceptarlo. —

Esas palabras fueron lo suficientemente claro para la chica, pero aún seguía culpándose, ella debía insistir en que buscar esa mujer que era la madre biológica de Jason era una mala idea, pero, también culpaba al Joker por todo, era el responsable de la muerte de su novio.

Se quería vengar por esto, por quitarle una parte importante para ella, no le importaba las heridas externas, ya que estas sanarían y dejarían cicatrices, pero esta herida no iba a desaparecer tan fácil, Elizabeth quería ver el cuerpo del Joker cubierto de heridas y hacer un favor a la ciudad, eso sería matar a ese psicópata.

Una cosa era segura y es que este seria...

El comienzo de su pasado oscuro.

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