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fyeahwonderbat · 7 years

Note

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIGH SCHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE.

NOTE: To fully understand this prompt, please read its prequel, Gotham Academy AU Part V. Thanks!

More than anything, there was one thing Bruce was thankful for during the Thanksgiving holiday weekend.

Alfred’s dedication to his succulent feast of a dinner.

That perfectionism of his made it entirely possible for his young ward to sneak out of Wayne Manor and bike his way back towards Gotham Academy, a devious plan concocted in his mind. It felt just as invigorating as it was mortifying to know he could exhibit the characteristics of an adult and a child simultaneously. All Bruce knew was that he had a goal in mind and the rest of the world, along with his sense and logic, were burned away in the recesses of his mind while he was ablaze with a need to put his curiosities to rest. If he could only learn something of value about the mysterious Diana Prince, perhaps he could expel her from his system and return to his rather gloomy and placid life. Until he had accomplished such a feat – as dangerous as his methods were in curbing his distress – it felt as though there was no reprieve from his insistent desire to use knowledge as a means to best her.

All he needed to do was collect some sort of background information about her from a direct source.

The principal’s office was the perfect place to begin his highly inappropriate escapades.

Bruce believed himself to be intelligent when he stored his bike in the tailored hedges next to the academy’s main entrance. The surrounding walls felt taller when he was meant to sneak around them, but he refused to let himself be intimidated. For fear of being spotted by any passersby despite the secluded property the school sat upon, the would-be sleuth crept through the open gateway with ease; he had correctly predicted that the janitorial staff would be on-site at such a late hour in order to tidy the place without lawless teenagers getting in their way. That would guarantee an easy way of slipping in and out through the entryway, however, that would present him with sentries to avoid when he eventually got inside.

It was time to strategize.

Any entrance into the building would serve him well so long as he could get inside. Bruce had decided on his bike ride over that the main entrance would be too simple – too suspicious – and therefore most unlikely that the doors would be unlocked. As ironic as it was, the very doors he had ran through when hoping to chase Diana down on the quad were his best chance at getting into the school. After all, the staff parking lot led off from the quad, since the main supply closet was across from the library. Everything sounded so realistic in his mind while he slinked around the east side of the building, fighting off the nipping cold and the falling snow and his self-preservation instinct.

It was only when the jostling of locked doors greeted him that Bruce allowed one negative thought enter his mind: had he let himself become too obsessed with this girl!?

One that he wasn’t even the slightest bit romancing, let alone befriending?

One that had presented herself to be a vision of loveliness no matter how much he tried to antagonise her?

One that was shrouded in mystery, even though she was constantly injecting herself into his life?

His obstinate willpower stomped out that lone hesitation as he then tried to assess his surroundings. Bruce scanned the wall before him carefully, nearly scoffing at his fortune when he spotted a rather thick downspout connected to the rain gutter on the roof – he could scale the wall! All he needed to figure out was an accessible entry point—

He was immediately surprised to find a cracked window.

It didn’t look like it was done on purpose – more like someone hadn’t secured the hatch and left it ajar ever so slightly – nevertheless, it was absolutely vital for his mission. The fact that it was on the second floor made him nearly suspicious of his good fortune, though. Still, Bruce wasted not another moment as he stomped over to the thick black pipe and found his grip with his warmly gloved hands. Finally, his training with Alfred would come in handy! The butler would most likely not approve of his usage of such techniques, he knew…

Bruce planted one foot on the wall and then pulled himself up with all of the strength found in his upper body.

It took him a few good heaves, a handful of deep and chilling breaths, but he reached his secret entrance in exactly two minutes and thirty-four seconds.

He’d lie to Alfred and say that it was his time for climbing the rope in gym class, because he was quite proud of his efforts already.

With eager hands did he throw the window open. Bruce stretched out his left leg to hook inside the room, his left hand holding onto the wall as he tugged his entire body toward the smell of the chemicals that were cleaning Gotham Academy. He let loose one pained grunt while channelling the muscles of his core to not only balance his body but to toss himself into whatever room he had snuck into.

The moment he landed though, his good fortune ran out.

A gasp came from the other side of the room, a flashlight fell down the length of his bundled form, and a smoky voice demanded, “Who the hell are you!?”

Bruce refused to lift his head for fear of being recognised now, or later in a line-up of students. He remained still due to nervousness but he also had the intention of luring the janitor into closer and closer…

Until he could perform a classic fake-out by shooting off to one side and running around him, booking it for the door.

“Hey, WAIT!” Shouted the disgruntled old timer as he attempted to chase Bruce down and bring him to justice. Calling Alfred from the local police station had not been on the agenda for the evening, and so the young sneak-thief called upon his weary muscles to drive him onward while he re-evaluated his situation.

Headmaster Hammer’s office was on the first floor, and of course, the closest stairwell was the very one Diana had cornered him in not too long ago! He stomped down the steps she would have taken to reach him that day, only he leapt over the last few to hasten his escape. Bursting through the doors in front of him, Bruce swiftly opened the mental map in his mind and reconfigured his route to the office. If he ran diagonally through the main lobby, he would be inside the secretary’s office in no time…!

Provided it wasn’t locked!

The cautious thought did nothing to dispel his passion to reach his aim. Bruce tore through the lobby and when he reached the opposite side of it, the doors he had just closed opened up with an angry bang. The janitor was surprisingly agile given the age heard in his voice, but that did not mean he would succeed. Unsteady feet pounded against the ground, all while a young master Wayne had already skidded on the sparkling marble floor before the secretary’s office door and was more than relieved to see that it was unlocked still! He made sure to make a few noisy footsteps to make it sound as though he hadn’t just stopped before the first hiding spot he could find and kept going on his way. Right when his instincts warned him that his diversion was more than enough, he not only leapt into the room, but jumped over the desk.

Just when Bruce settled underneath, the janitor was heard grabbing onto the doorjamb in search of him. There was a moment of panic underneath his calm façade. A painful breath was trapped in the midst of his chest as he wondered if he would be caught for his overzealous belief that he could hide away in such an obvious place and win.

Apparently, the janitor only wanted to lock the door.

Bruce’s eyes opened wide momentarily, shocked at the logic of the old man who had literally trapped him in the very room he had been aiming for the entire time! It was thanks to his typically hated upon bravado that he was foolish enough to charge forth with his scheme, resulting with him rising from underneath the desk that should have the key to Headmaster Hammer’s office hidden in it somewhere. Admittedly, he was jittery with excitement to have made it so far; the usually stoic teen tore open all of the drawers he could see to the secretary’s desk and flipped through every folder, magazine and naughty romance novel she had stashed away, yet there was no key to be found.

To have the door he needed to unlock sitting at his back while he was looking at attendance sheets and pirates holding maidens by their waists was infuriating! In a moment of anger, Bruce shook the desk and watched as everything on top of it rattled instantly.

All accept the vase-shaped pencil holder.

Brow arched, Bruce ripped it off of the desk and stuck his fingers inside, digging around the pencils and pens in the hopes of finding his much-needed key—

The very one that was sitting in the middle of the ring of dust that the pencil holder had left on the desk.

The smirk that befell his face was almost mocking, with how unbelievably simple the security was at such a prestigious academy. He knew, for whatever reason, that if he had any secrets of his own, they’d be hidden behind at least thirty different kinds of security.

What was the point of hiding something that important if it was ripe for the taking, like that?

Bruce could only hope, as he shoved the key into its corresponding keyhole, that Diana’s information was just as poorly guarded. The Headmaster’s office was just as drab as he remembered it: a desk that sat before a window, and twenty or so cabinets of all sorts of files. Even with the power of the internet on the rise, it was quite clear to the tech savvy young man that the school had yet to consider a digital database for their students’ information. In all honesty, he could discern which method of obtaining his guardian angel’s file would have been easier.

Bruce saw a sticker above one of the many drawers labelled ‘P-T’ and he realised that he had his answer.

The drawer was heavy when he began to open it, and so he had to move slower as he dragged it on its track. There was a hefty smell of dust and paper when he began sifting through the ‘P’ section, passing by Pérez and Peter until he hit Prince. Surprisingly, there seemed to only be one person in the entire academy with the last name pertaining to royalty. Bruce ripped the thin folder from its place amongst the many others and rushed to the window. He knew to keep the lights in the room off in case someone spotted the office aglow and gave him even more to grief.

What he did not expect to give him such difficulty the very file he committed a felony to obtain.

GOTHAM ACADEMY STUDENT APPLICATION [Historia Vitae Magistra]

First Name: Diana

Last Name: Prince

Home Address: 2217 Massachusetts Ave NW, Washington, DC 20008, USA

Sex: Female

Age: 14 (D/O/B: December 31st, 1981)

Previous Education: Graduate of the Amazonian Academy in Themyscira, Greece. Class Representative.

GPA: 4.0

He had barely scanned over the basics of her information and already, Bruce was disturbed. How could a portfolio so clearly manufactured ever issue a student access to Gotham’s most elite prep school? There was no such place as Themyscira, not on any map of Greece he had ever seen! With a supposedly perfect GPA, and an English-based name for an evidently Greek girl, none of the facts presented on the paper in his hands felt coherent.

And he surmised all that without considering her unnatural wisdom for someone their age.

Despite his disbelief, he decided to press onward. Bruce believed that there was something telling in the folder he had snuck into the school for, and refused to leave until he found it! He skipped past her personal details – such as social security numbers and what not – until he reached a particularly interesting section.

Parent / Guardian

First Name: Antiope

Last Name: Prince

Occupation: Martial Arts Instructor

Place of Occupation: Amazonian Arena – Women’s Training Facility

Address: 2217 Massachusetts Ave NW, Washington, DC 20008, USA

It did not take a scientist to afford Gotham Academy, nor did it take one to know that a martial arts teacher could not pay the bills, either. Bruce didn’t understand the Amazonian theme – were they referring to the amazons of Greek myth? The ones that Hercules defeated? – but it only highlighted his suspicions of Diana’s entire existence. Seeing that address again also made him wonder how a girl went to school in Gotham City could have her residence listed in Washington, D.C.? Nothing in the file aside from their names made sense and in that moment, his head was swirling due to all of the misinformation he was being forced to digest.

That is, until he heard someone grab hold of the doorknob to the secretary’s office and reach for their keys.

Bruce’s head shot up at once. Was the janitor back, prepared to check the room thoroughly after running around the halls without finding the intruder? A rush of adrenaline kicking, Bruce scurried back over to the cabinet and slipped the folder back into place, in the small wedge of space he had been intelligent enough to leave for himself amongst the many others. He also managed to remind himself that – even though he could not put back the key – Headmaster Hammer’s door had been closed before he had tampered with it. His firm hand shot out and shut the door just as the janitor turned the key in the lock.

An escape was more of a necessity than ever before!

The only viable option, Bruce knew, was to jump out of the window he had been making use of not more than two seconds ago. It would be easier to pull himself through the window and leave it slightly ajar than it was to crawl through the one on the second floor, as he had earlier. He braced himself for the speed of his actions and tore open the awning crank and shot himself onto the snow-covered lawn. His nose met with the ground when he fell, but he chose to endure it, pick himself up, and find that bike of his! Once he got home to the manor, he could have hot cocoa and warm himself by the fire and—

The disappointed look on Alfred’s face as he exited Gotham Academy’s main entrance told him otherwise.

From the back of his precious car, the world’s most intuitive butler slammed down the lid of the trunk with a gloved hand. Bruce looked between his two options of transportation – the car with an angry butler or a bike he could pedal himself – only to realise that Alfred had most likely been standing at the trunk of his car because he had shoved his bike into it. Out of options and the fear of being caught ever on the rise, Bruce childishly whispered with an unfair rage, “Al-fred!”

All his butler did was chuckle at his distress, but not with any sort of mirth, oh no. There was darkness in his tone, the sort that suited Gotham City. It gave Bruce a chill worse than any tumble into the snow could have and it was more haunting than the fear of being caught by the janitor. But he said not a word as he climbed into the driver’s seat and turned on his car, sans the headlights required for night time driving. It was a curious decision, unless he was planning to help his charge escape.

Bruce did not wait to find out and threw himself into the back seat of the car, slamming the door shut as if all of his stealth was stolen away by his guardian the moment they had locked eyes. “Drive, drive!” he ordered while slapping the cushion of his own seat repeatedly.

“One would assume that I came here for that very reason.” Sassed the old man. He applied such light pressure to the gas pedal as he spoke.

Riled beyond reason, Bruce argued reflexively, “You shouldn’t have just shown up like that! I had everything under control.”

“Oh? And what exactly did you have control of?” The question had every intention of pinning him down, and it absolutely did.

Bruce frowned, unable to say a word. The feeling of being stumped after achieving such a victory as reviewing Diana’s file was utterly preposterous in his mind, and yet, Alfred always managed to make the impossible possible. “I just left a book at school.”

Without missing a beat, as per usual, Alfred shot right back, “And I see that you left your sense at home, if you think I would believe that for even a moment.”

“…I could have.”

In the rear view mirror, Bruce could see that his guardian wanted to chuckle at his weak retort. He refrained however – ever formal – and maintained his parental demeanour. “Well, what you will be doing, as a form of repentance, is inviting that lovely young lady to dinner tomorrow night.”

The mere idea nearly left him speechless. “W…What!?”

Nodding, Alfred explained, “You have wronged us both in one day, and so you shall make it up to us the next day; you were unnecessarily rude to a sweet young lady and you thought it wise to sneak out of the house and lie to me about your motivations. Hence, I shall be setting the table for three for our Thanksgiving dinner and Miss…?”

“Diana Prince.”

“Miss Prince will get to try that pie I offered to her earlier. Am I being clear, Master Bruce?”

Gritting his teeth, Bruce said, grumbling, “Crystal.”

At least he could prove is something was real inside that folder of hers: the phone number he had memorised right before putting everything back.

((A/N: Sooo much is going on in this one! First off, this story takes place directly after Part V, which is what I always planned. Bruce shows off his pre-Batman skills by being a pain in the ass sneaking into Gotham Academy to learn more about Diana through lies through hard work! The two name he reads when looking through the folders are both Wonder Woman artists~

Antiope will be in the Wonder Woman movie, but OMG does she have a tragic story… She just made the most sense as Diana’s guardian, but we will see Menallipe at some point~ Oh, and Diana’s birthday is her debut as a superhero, back in 1941! Phew, well, I hope you enjoyed this instalment of my Gotham Academy AU and get ready for more because there is another prompt for it in my inbox! ~ Maiden))

#maiden writes #wonderbat #wonderbat fanficiton #gotham academy AU #Gotham Academy VI

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fyeahwonderbat · 8 years

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Can you please write a mob boss/right hand au, where Diana is the mob boss and Bruce is the right hand? But they're also lovers, or something like that. I know it's weird but please, pretty please! :)

“La madrina,” beckoned one of her attendants, distracting Diana momentarily from the lasagna she was layering in her expansive, expensive kitchen. It took a great deal of her might not to sigh when she was summoned, for it nearly shattered the momentary calm she felt during one of her rare days away from work. That, and her dinner wasn’t going to assemble itself if she was meant to mull over details with one of the many members in her Mafiosi family. Slowly did she turn to face Stefano, her doorman, waiting for the name of the person who was brave enough to come to her home in order to speak with her, “Signor Battaglino wishes to speak with you.”

“Send him in.” She did not show the surprise that coursed through her being to hear of Bruce’s sudden visit. Without any show of hesitancy did she make her way towards the main hall of her home, only to come face to face with her impatient guest as he stomped into view behind her doorman. Diana glanced over the two men and realized as an afterthought that the two devoted men before her could not appear to be any more of a contradiction to one another – blond versus black hair, average build versus stocky, wide-eyed versus hardened stare – and yet she employed the both of them and treated them equally.

It was amazing to see the bonds that money could buy you.

Currently, her displeasure with Bruce stemmed from his destruction of her lasagna, whereas Stefano’s hatred of the man was constant. Diana smiled while ignoring the angered expression on the younger man’s face as she greeted, “Good afternoon, Signor Battaglino.”

“La madrina,” Bruce said with a lifeless tone, the lack of a glint in his eyes indicating that his poor delivery was not a response to her presence, “I need to speak with you. It’s important.”

“It always is, isn’t it? You interrupted me while I was trying to make dinner. But luckily, Stefano knows his way around this house like the back of his hand, including my kitchen.” The sly grin shot at the doorman unnerved him slightly, just as she intended.

The shift in his duties caused poor Stefano to fumble on his words, “Ah, s-si, of course. I can…finish making that for you.”

“I would appreciate that.” Was how she waved off the confused young man before turning to meet the static gaze that had the power to pin her down if she allowed it to – while callous to some, Diana always felt a spark tickle her skin when those azure eyes roamed over her body. Feeling generous, she allowed him to take in his full of her red and white sundress as she led him to her office, walking two paces in front of him the entire time. The marble floors were met with the pristine point of her heels and the heavy tread of his shoes, with the pacing between them mimicking that of a noisy yet healthy heart beat.

Admittedly, hers nearly stalled when she welcomed him into and locked them inside a private room, together.

“How did it go?” Diana inquired quickly.

Bruce stilled in the middle of the room, the natural light shining in through her massive bow windows outlining him in an otherwise dark space. The silence that stood firm between her question and his answer did not bode well for his inevitable response, “I handled it.”

“Alone?” The shock worked its way into her voice that time.

“There were roughly twenty-five kids at their base, and six more in the truck I followed there,” Bruce spun around to face her then, eyes squinting as he exhibited a portion of his rage, “I couldn’t find the other hundreds we’ve been looking for, but I saw a way to save those thirty-one children and I took it.” Even with his justified motivation, it was clear that he understood the potential consequences of his actions without them needing to be stated.

That did not prevent Diana from doing so, however. As she strode over to her desk, she was searching for a seat and found it against its edge, propping herself up nicely while she decided on how she needed to respond to his bold behaviour, “It is impossible that they did not know it was you.”

“I don’t care – I’ll give myself over to them if that’s what they want.”

“They probably do, and they’ll terrorize someone in this family to get your attention, as well as mine.”

“I came here to let you know what I did, so you can at least claim the victory of it. I’ll go to Angelo Beretti myself and—”

Diana waved a hand and silenced him gently. “All your sacrifice would accomplish, is that they would simply murder any of their victims in front of you, and it would take away one of my greatest allies.”

The praise she rightfully gave him was side-stepped poorly by the stoic man, who blinked a handful of times before pushing through a minimal stutter, created by his rage and nothing more, “Th-Then what would you have me do!? I don’t regret saving them – that’s what you hired me for, was to rescue the children that you believed the Beretti family were stealing from the streets of Gotham!”

“I’m not the one that needs to be convinced that what you did was right.” Diana pointed out, her tone a tad too light for Bruce’s tastes, it would seem; his expression broke if only to scowl at his employer.

“But you’re telling me that I can’t go to Junior’s under-staffed, weakly-structured hideout and hand myself over to him.” It was neither a question nor a statement, but it demanded some kind of response.

Inhaling deeply once again, the godmother of the Principessa Mafia used the command of her voice to confirm, “It would be like supplying him with a new toy; he will enjoy torturing you until he finds out that I know you voluntarily chose to turn yourself in, then he will kill you on the spot.”

“I’m not afraid to die.” The proclamation did nothing to slow down the conversation and unfortunately undermined his sentiment.

“But I do not want you to die, and you pledged your life to me when you joined my family. It is mine to decide what it is that you do with it now.”

Surely, the kitchen was noisy with Stefano’s catastrophe of an attempt to finish preparing her lasagna, the birds outside her bow windows were most definitely chirping some sort of tune, but the world stood still inside of her office at that moment. Like two statues that embodied opposing views, they filled the space with their intensity without doing anything more than staring the other down. That electricity that always buzzed between them was nearly audible, or so Diana believed, when her life was momentarily paused in such an enticing instance. No one compared to this man when it came to both opposing her and supporting her, and she firmly believed that Bruce felt the exact same way.

Sadly, the tether that was their tension snapped the moment Bruce dared to approach her. Refusing to move at first, it felt like a betrayal onto herself when her hands cupped his cheeks after he bowed his forehead against hers. He braced his hands on either side of her waist and she felt the way he leaned into her; his reliance removed any sort of dissatisfaction she felt towards him, though he did nothing in regards to his disrespect.

“The next time you test your loyalty to me,” warned the falsely angry donna, “do not expect me to feed you afterward.”

Her reference to the lasagna that was hopefully in the oven caused the burly man above her to chuckle in order to override the grumble that escaped his stomach at the mere mention of food. Her smile gave away his poor attempt at a distraction, and so, Bruce’s second attempt involved lifting her onto her desk and trailing his hands along the sides of her specially chosen sun dress. From her ribs to the hem – and forcibly up again, sneaking beneath the folds of her skirt as he went – the suddenly frisky man in her employ sarcastically replied to her claim, “I would never dream of opposing you, la madrina.”

“Hm,” hummed Diana into the kiss they shared, “for the sake of your hunger, I should hope not.” Her words surely stung when they swatted at his pride, regardless, the way she snuck one promiscuous hand into his hair and tugged on the short strands was a most definitely a more striking sensation. The way he hummed at her in response sounded deeper, huskier, much more dangerous than hers had. Instinctively, she should have been somewhat concerned for her safety then, but it was taking a great deal of her restraint to wait for whatever it was Bruce wished to do in their private meeting; whether it was courage or foolishness that motivated her, Diana loved it when she allowed him to prey on her body like this.

She supposed that her sister would not be meeting the love of her life tonight, for they would most likely find themselves much too busy to see anyone else for the rest of their lasagna-and-loyalty-testing-filled evening.

((Lasagna is sooo Italian, but there is also a Greek version called pastitsio, so it made sense for her to be cooking that instead of some boring old pasta. This story helped me to see that I need to switch up the pacing of these ficlets I write, but the steamy ending hopefully added in some freshness, ha ha! Bruce’s last name was an easy one to pick – something starting with ‘bat’ will do! Luckily, it also means ‘battle / fight’, so it suits him absolutely perfectly, no? And, for fans of the old Wonder Woman tv show, did you figure out who Stefano was? ;) Thanks for reading, and feel free to prompt me again! ~Maiden))

#wonderbat fanficiton #wonderbat #wonderbat fanficiton: principessa mafia #wonder woman x batman #bmww

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fyeahwonderbat · 8 years

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so I loved your Diana and Bruce meeting for the first time in high school ficlet. I would honestly love another high school wonderbat au ficlet...if you can, thank you so much!

He was studying in the library for anupcoming test, like any good student would.

Most assuredly, Bruce Wayne was notwaiting for his female rescuer to reveal herself to him once again.

Anyone at Gotham Academy would consider thelast of the Wayne line to be an introverted extravert – a young man who could conversequiet efficiently when made to, but otherwise, kept to himself – and therefore lefthim to his own devices, assuming that solidarity was what he truly wanted. Henever once asked for friends nor required it, and yet a few of his classmateshad welcomed into their cliques wholeheartedly. For that, he was secretly quitegrateful to interact with more of his fellow Gothamites beyond the army of bulliesthat always managed to track him down. One could easily surmise that he was nothurting to expand his social circles in the slightest.

Ergo, he was definitely not awaiting forthe blue-eyed girl to return her Greek Mythology textbook after havingassumedly rented it more than two weeks ago; why would he want to interact withsomeone who was so irresponsible in regards to her due dates?

(The thought had occurred to him manytimes that she had perhaps owned the massive book and his expectance of herreturn was not only pointless, but also pitiful by definition.)

Bruce released a hardy huff and droppedhis clenched jaw into his awaiting palm. He turned away from both his studyingmaterials and the expansive library, looking out the window in order tomindlessly examine the quad. It appeared as though there were just as manystudents outside as there were in the very same room as him, regardless of howridiculous the shivering fools were for choosing to endure the cold. ‘Snow,’ hethought quite matter-of-factly to himself, void of any emotional response atthe sight of the season’s signature weather. His first semester was nearing itsend, was what the world meant to tell him. However, all he could focus on waswhat this time of year signified for the young orphan since he was given thetitle to bear.

Indeed, the snow had only recently begunto stick to the ground, accumulating comparably to his misery. Eyes fixedforward, snowflakes descended ever so tenderly just as they did on the lastnight of his innocence, his childhood, so oblivious to their own purity and thetainted scene they fell upon. No matter what knowledge he gained at thisacademy for the elite, no matter what he went on to do either as a doctor likehis father or in his own career, no matter how his teachers praised him andAlfred (rarely) rewarded him for his academic success, he could not be fooled intobelieving that any sort of future success would rectify the tragedy he hadsuffered five years ago.

He was not a child – there was no fantasythat existed for him that could shield the young man from the harsh realitythat he lived every day, which he was forced to recall much more vividly everyyear at this time.

A gargled sound emerged from his throat asBruce tried to ward away the relentless enmity he housed inside of hisadolescent body. Conscious of both himself and others, it was clear to him thathis resentfulness of his parents’ murders prevented him from appreciating allthat Gotham Academy had provided him with, both professionally andinterpersonally. Nevertheless, awareness was only the first step towards changethat he did not necessarily crave. All he truly wanted in this world beyondobliterating the injustice in Gotham City that had torn his life apart was for thatdamn girl to—

‘Hey!’ yelled Bruce inside of his mind ashe suddenly leapt onto his feet, ‘There she is!’

Floating above a backdrop of a winterwonderland was none other than his guardian angel as she sluggishly made herway across the quad. She seemed to be just as put out by the cold as he did,her animated sneeze providing enough evidence for him to assume that she had adifferent motivation for disliking the season. And no wonder she was sick – shewas wearing no more than her uniform and a scarf! Her boots could not be seenabove the piled snow, her tights were dark but did not appear to be at all thick,and her cheeks were simultaneously pale and rosy due to the harshness of thefrigidness she wandered though. It nearly disillusioned him to witness thebrave heroine that had combated his bullies’ sense of righteousness, strugglingto comprehend the basics of surviving the winter.

He was right to question her upbringingduring their first encounter, it would seem.

“What a…!” Politely refraining fromfinishing off the obviously rude remark, Bruce tore himself away from his worktable and quickly packed away his belongings. He was driven – an angry aura surroundinghim, containing both his indignation and determination – while he tore his coatoff of the back of his chair and stormed towards the towering doors of thelibrary. Some of his heavy steps caused a few curious students to glance hisway, but he refused to recognize any of the attention he was receiving as heheaded outside and into the cold.

(Excluding the librarian, whom frightfullyreceived the textbooks he returned to her upon his departure.)

Within a matter of seconds, he threw openthe exit that would lead him out into the cold, blinking once and immediately foundhimself standing ankle-deep in the snow he hated so. Wicked winds cruellytested the make of his clothes and their ability to defend him against thecolder weather that had blanketed the academy. A burst of chilled breathblocked his vision as he tried to locate his disenchanted defender, however,nothing could prevent Bruce Wayne from finding his target when he was thisresolute; whether it be for the sake of his grief or any other emotion, theword to define his very existence would most definitely be ‘tenacious’.

Which was exactly how Bruce would havedescribed the way in which he walked over to the troublesome girl. He wasreminded at once that he still did not know her name and his steadfast spiritwas renewed yet again. Unable to garner the attention of the shivering mess beforehim with the use of her name, the bratty young man decided to mute both oftheir noisy footsteps with a very undignified, “You! Stop!”

Brucewatched as her head bobbed as she stalled due to shock. Many other studentssurrounding them on the quad turned to face him much quicker than she did, buttheir focus meant nothing to the ruffled young man. When she did eventuallyturn around to face him, he was met with the sight of a perfectly sculpted browarched eye above those blue eyes he remembered so well. Slightly confused,teeth visibly chattering due to the cold, somehow this young lady continued toembody such a wise spirit throughout the entirety of her build. How she managedsuch a feat, he did not know. His muddled feelings were nearly purified thenwhen she smiled at him gently – bypassing the rude way in which he summoned her– and kindly said, “Oh, hello, Bruce.”

Again, she upstaged him simply by remembering who he was when he expected much less from her. As much as hedesired to know her name after all she had put him through, Bruce was ready toblow a gasket if he did not communicate his anger to her over a much dirematter first, “Just what do you think you’re doing, walking around like that?”

“Like” – her response was cut off momentarily due to a necessary sniffle – “what?”Her question was just as short as she appeared to be, when she was being metwith the challenge of defending her wardrobe.

“I know girls like to show off how cutethey look in their uniforms, but you’re going too far if you won’t even wear acoat when it’s snowing outside.” If she thought she heard mockery in his tone,she would have heard him correctly.

Her baby blues were overshadowed byfurrowed brows after such a claim, the cold she was supposedly nursing had allbut disappeared as she placed her hands on her hips and softly replied, “Youare lecturing me about how I should dress? Really? Do you think you have the right, even though you’re carrying your coat inyour hand?” Then her gaze traveled down to what he held tightly in his grasp –the fancy winter coat Alfred had ordered for him, meant to warm the coldestbones, hanging limply in his clutches and resting on top of the snow.

“Hmph, at least I have pants on.” Brucecountered.

But, as per their usual it seemed, shefought back, “Yes, you do. I’m sorry you cannot choose to wear a skirtyourself.”

“That it not the point. How can you—Whatis your name?” The question sprung forth from his lips, reminding the riled Brucethat he had been begging to know the answer for the past two weeks, which was amuch more significant amount of time since he had spotted her through thelibrary window a minute ago.

“Diana.” Was the answer he was waitingfor, and she delivered it all too casually for it to suit the impatience he hadbeen housing in all of that time since their last encounter.

Inhaling deep, he tried to regain controlof himself now that one of her mysteries had been solved. Then, he attempted totackle the other by asking, “Diana, if you’re able toafford attending Gotham Academy, why can’t you afford to bring a coat to schoolin the middle of winter?”

For an entire moment, the world stoodstill. The newly named heroine of his life dared not move, refused to speak,and simply stared him down with the eyes of hers that had enchanted him fromthe moment they had revealed themselves through the darkness. His naturallyclever mind could not grasp what it was that could have caused a pause to formin their evenly paced conversation; regardless of his comprehension, somethingquite mysterious passed between them then. Then, just as quickly as it shiftedthe world around them into one of frozen stillness, everything resumednaturally without so much as a blink of his eye to pass between them.

“I don’t need a coat to keep warm.” Dianaanswered with a charming smile sweeping across her lips.

Thrown by such a foolish statement, Brucescowled at her, unrestrained. “You think a scarf is enough?”

“No,” she hummed, just as she had thenight they had met, before turning away from him and preparing to continue herjourney across the snowy quad. He was about to call out to her properly and useher name in order to keep her from deserting him so effortlessly, until shecalled back and said, “but once I finally make it to practice, I’ll be warmagain. Thank you for stopping me with your concern though, Bruce. But can we go back to arguinginside? I don’t think either of us would want you to catch a cold.” Then, onceagain, Diana walked away from him as if it required little to no effort on herpart to both engage him and leave him yearning for a grander conversation totake place.

What practice? What concern? What arguing!?He knew he had been right in scolding her and no amount of playfulness on herend could convince him otherwise. It would appear as though she found some sortof thrill in riling him up, trying to fluster him with her coy words and grins.Both times they had met, he had been putty in her hands, as if she was somehowabove him without demonstrating any sort of power or animosity. Diana was kind,polite, proving that her conversational prowess was her ungodly superpower; howhad she managed to make him feel as if he submitted to her twice, without doinganything other than talking!?

Bruce Wayne was not someone to be trifledwith, he hoped she would soon learn. The next time he met this Diana, he wouldstand on equal ground with her. Tossing his long forgotten coat over hisshoulder, the young Master Wayne decided then and there to give his newestadversary the proper treatment and prepare himself for the next time theycrossed paths. Yes, he knew what his particular set of skills were, and hewould use them in order to arm himself with the intelligence required of averbal spar with his guardian angel. If he was being honest, she would be theone conceding to him if they were meant to face off once again.

((I took the idea of his parents’ deathhappening in winter from BvS, so it’s…a strangely timed AU, ha ha. His foulmood made him a tad more ridiculous when confronting Diana, but as always, she handledherself like royalty. It would be interesting to see her façade falter ever soslightly though, wouldn’t it? Also, we all know she wasn’t actually sick – she hasa metahuman’s healing factor. I figure Bruce has always had a big heart, but atthis time in his life, it’s watered down by his prolonged inability to cope andcomes across more aggressive than it needs to… Hope you enjoyed~ Thanks for therequest, and feel free to prompt me again! ~Maiden))

#wonderbat #wonderbat fanficiton #Gotham Academy: WonderBat 2 #wonder woman x batman #gotham academy #fan fics

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fyeahwonderbat · 8 years

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hi! I'm so happy to see another wonderbat blog! I wanted to request a ficlet with a prompt w/ young Diana and smol Bruce (both of them maybe around 13-14 yrs old), meeting for the first time because Diana saves Bruce from neighborhood bullies. I know it's super AU but I'm rereading Hunter's Moon (which is my favorite Bruce x Diana fic, and starts out with them meeting when they were young) and I really need more of them interacting if they had met as kids. Thank you so much!

“What, you think you’re better than us? You got into Gotham Academy because your daddy left you money; at least we earned our way in!”

‘Not again,’ thought Bruce as he felt the gang of delinquents back him into one of the many corners of the school’s secluded hallways. No matter what he did or how he kept to himself, he always managed to end up here: waging war with upper classmen who feared that he would steal the spotlight from their accomplishments, their senior year and the glory it would bring them. And yet it was never by his doing that these verbal spars would occur.

‘Only because Alfred would drag me out by my ear if I tried to fight them off with my hands,’ he grumbled within his mind. What good was his training if he couldn’t utilize it during countless encounters such as this? How infuriating.

The sight of his gritted teeth seemed to anger his aggressors further and inspire the ring leader to take a pronounced step towards him. In the darkness of the late winter’s evening, the shadows that draped over his foes only highlighted their evil intentions in a way that their words could not, “You think you deserve some sort of hand out because your mommy and daddy won’t be coming to your graduation? This isn’t your school, Wayne, and don’t you–”

“From what I understand,” came a young yet elegant voice from behind the huddle, “it is not yours to claim, either.”

With a dull torchlight resting over his head, all that Bruce could see was the parting of his enemies as they turned to witness just who had dared to interrupt their private conversation. There were whispers of confusion but none of recognition, yet all of the young men - their victim included - were absolutely curious to learn the identity of the authoritative intruder.

One of the grunts at the back of the pack snorted and revealed, “It’s just a girl?”

Pausing to collect himself, the nameless leader scoffed before standing strong and stating, “Heh, like some chick is gonna tell us what to do.” With the way he spoke, with his words and his tone, at least Bruce could surmise that it was not a female upper classman coming to rescue him from the barbaric males in her year. He doubted that they would listen to anyone younger after they unveiled their superiority complexes to him. Nevertheless, he himself was impressed that there was someone so brave attending Gotham Academy and that they chose to champion his rescue.

Whether he needed it or not.

“Well, you’re going to listen to me, because you know it’s the right thing to do.” The sounds of pointed heels clicked against the marble floors to indicate that his mysterious sidekick was coming closer and closer to stepping into the light.

“Says you.” Was the intelligent addition of yet another drone in the possey.

“Says the Code of Conduct for Gotham Academy, which I doubt you would want to break when you are so close to graduating. Leave him alone and you’ll avoid the consequences of having a possible suspension on your records.” This girl was not one to trifle with, Bruce knew at once. Her language did not suit a senior, much less a potential freshman such as himself, yet she spoke with such a commanding tone that she effortlessly garnered the attention of everyone in the hallway. Who was she to save him, let alone defeat his enemies with a grace he could never possess?

“Tch.” The disgusted sound was the belated response to the lecture received by none other than the pack’s alpha himself. From behind their turned forms, their previous target watched the entire group slink off into the darkness of the early evening with tense frames and undeservedly proud steps. Just when it seemed as though they had left well enough alone, a heavy smack was heard just before a massive tome was sent flying across the floor, colliding into the tips of Bruce’s shoes.

'Greek Mythology: The Legends of Ancient Greece and Their Modern Day Relevancy’ was the title he read under the flickering torchlight.

Bruce scowled at the book before him, his proper upbringing compelling him to return the girl’s property after one of his bullies had rudely tore it from her grasps. Even so, his pride as an individual - as a young man who trained to be strong, who had not asked for assistance nor needed it - was blaring inside of him. Her gender was irrelevant when shd had wronged him; his unwanted guardian did not deserve his praise yet he would be forced to shower her with words of gratitude, else he go against the morals he had been taught.

Or, to keep things peaceable, he could simply stare dumbfounded into the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

Finally revealing herself, Gotham Academy’s unofficial hall monitor approached Bruce and stared at him with such a gentle and thankful gaze, he was stunned into stillness that resembled the many statues that filled the very hallway in which they stood. Like the tips of the waves of the Aegean Sea, clear and pure, boundless and free - that was how he would describe her eyes. The poor lighting could not hinder the way in which her orbs did shine and it forcefully stole the air from his lungs.

Then, she immasculated him further and ruined his momentary peace by holding out her hands and softly saying, “Thank you.” Damn her, before he had the chance to be grateful first.

Furrowed brows sat atop of coal-darkened eyes. “I should be thanking you, I suppose. Even though I didn’t need the help.” Bruce clarified without prompting. It seemed his pride beat out his manners quite easily. Alfred would not be pleased if he ever found out he backtalked an ally in such a way.

The girl before him did not seem to appreciate his casual dismissal of her aid either, and yet, there was a sparkling understanding behind her stare. For whatever reason, she nodded instead of arguing his claim, even going so far as to agree with him and concede, “Yes, I guess I had no right to intervene. Whether you initiate it or not, a challenge is still a challenge.”

Unsure what she meant by her remark, Bruce nodded while feeling a tad clueless.

“Very well, then. I’m sorry…um, your name?” Asked the girl who had yet to introduce herself.

“Bruce.” He answered. Having been cornered due to his legacy, he made sure to avoid mentioning his family name.

“Bruce” - it sounded as though she breathed life into the word and the poor, young schoolboy felt his heart reverberate as if a chord had been strummed inside of him, uncertain with what it was he felt - “I apologize if I offended you. The next time I see you cornered in a hallway, I’ll make sure to leave you be.”

“Thank you.” He grounded out even though his response betrayed how he felt.

The girl smiled at him and had nearly ended his life with such a gesture, his heart seeming to have stopped its beating in a moment of her brilliance. Then, she fluidly turned around and left both his presence and the light of the torch. Her heels echoed in the silence of the expansive hallway with delicacy and refinement that did not properly correlate with the strength and dignity he had seen from her tonight.

In an act of defiance to the effect she had on him, Bruce stomped forward and shouted into the darkness, “I don’t know how you were raised, but it’s polite to introduce yourself before asking for someone else’s name!” He felt much like a brat as he called after her - not chase, just shout. As if that would return her to his presence, even though he was not certain if he wanted more of her time or to forget this encounter entirely.

Regardless of what he desired, Buce knew he would never forget that light-hearted giggle that answered his angry words, followed closely by, “If we meet again, you can politely ask for it.” Not a second after, he could feel that her presence was gone.

It took him a moment to wrap his head around the subtleties and depth of the conversation he had just had with a complete and utter stranger; the way she spoke was unguarded and firm, and yet it felt as though he gained nothing from confronting his rescuer. If not for the strange rhythm thumping in his chest, he might have been able to convince himself it was simple a dream of reprieve amongst the nightmares he usually conquered each night. No, she had indeed stood before him, and the only response he could utter while befuddled by her grace was a very undignified, “Tch.”

((I decided that if they were both in their early teens, Gotham Academy was the perfect setting for their first encounter, and because Wayne Manor is like…in the middle of no where? I’ve never seen Bruce have neighbours before…Hope that makes sense! This was a lot of fun to write, so thanks for the prompt!))

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