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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

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Miscellaneous Batfam headcanons

Dick

He’s really the only person in the family who can get away with getting out of hostage situations because of his job as a police officer

… but he doesn’t

Yes he uses this as an excuse to hug his family

No he doesn’t feel bad about it

He’s a good actor, he has to be with his job, so if there’s other civilians around or the tied up henchmen are still conscious… well, what kind of asshole wouldn’t hug a sobbing civilian?

Clings to whichever unfortunate sibling is closest when he’s let go

Just… no shame whatsoever

Yeah, the family is more than a little hesitant to help him

Unfortunately for them Dick is pretty much the entirety of the family’s emotional support system

So, eventually, someone caves and goes to rescue him

(Also, one time they didn’t, and he was insufferable for months, and they don’t want a repeat of that)

Babs

Babs knows EVERYTHING

This makes getting around her… difficult

One time she decided to make everyone get over their unhealthy habits

She was mostly just concerned about everyone’s habit of substituting sleep with coffee

They'd done everything to keep Babs from finding out

Checked everywhere for bugs, made sure she wasn’t home, bought new phones, EVERYTHING

And yet when they snuck to the kitchen for food…

The phone started ringing

Cue screaming

They only got back their unhealthy habits by begging… and considering they're the bats…

Well, let’s just say it took a while

Jason

He regularly kidnaps his siblings

It’s a love language, okay?

He might not be good at emotions like Dick is

But he WILL break into everyone’s safehouses, grab them by the back of their shirts, and drag them out for joyrides and ice cream

And that’s just as important, really

The bats are terrible with dealing with emotions and he is perfectly happy to help them avoid their problems

His services also extend to stealing them away from Dick when he’s attempting to get them to open up before they're ready

One text and he’s there

There’s two older siblings, one of them has to be bad, it’s called balance

Tim

The only time he sleeps is when Bruce is attempting to lecture him

Of course, he didn’t start out that way

He’s Tim Drake, after all, he has a duty to be perfect at everything he does

But… there’s only so many times you can listen to the ‘Don’t do reckless stuff’ speech before you can recite it from memory

At this time, lecture time has been changed into nap time

Bruce has started to use this to his advantage

When he notices that Tim hasn’t slept in days he starts lecturing him

One time he had a dream where he was getting the lecture and he had to wake up

Bruce had to scramble to start lecturing again

Tim figured out what was going on after that

But the other option is to listen to the lecture all the way through so he accepts that he has to sleep

Steph

I see your “Jason Todd/Damian Wayne are the embodiment of the Cain Instinct(™)” posts and raise you Stephanie-fucking-Brown

The Wayne Love Language is almost murdering each other and it really shows

Steph walks into a room and it is On Sight

Who punches first? Who knows

(It’s usually Steph)

It’s a smack or be smacked world and Steph is just living in it

No one is safe

At least they get a lot of sparring practice

Cass

You would think that having Cass around as a lie detector would be a good idea

And, on paper, you’d be right

She can tell when everyone is lying before they even open their mouths

But…

She’s a little bit more petty than people give her credit for

She Remembers Everything

She ranks siblings in her head based on who has the most indiscretions

Whoever is at the top of the list when something bad happens is the one she will point out as the culprit

And if nothing bad happens? Don’t worry about that, she’ll make something happen

Damian

He definitely gets teased the most because he just happens to be really young

(Doesn’t help that he’s so tiny)

But the moment someone has the audacity to make a joke about him or agree with one of his siblings?

Let’s just say the bats reconsider their No Killing Rule

Damian mentions someone at school being a little snot? Tim and Jason aren’t above throwing hands with children

A teacher gives an unfair grade to him on an assignment? Hope they weren’t expecting to get saved in the next Rogue attack

And god forbid someone call Damian a slur in front of his siblings

He's the baby of the family. What else is there to say?

Duke

He used to be annoyed that he got the reputation as the person in the family with common sense

He’s done so much stupid and dangerous stuff but nooo he’s the sane one

(Granted, he kind of is. It’s not a high bar to meet. Still, he’d like some recognition that he is also completely batshit insane.)

But now…

He realizes there are benefits

Like how he can prank his siblings and no one will ever think he did it

And when no one fesses up because they didn’t do anything? Prank wars ensue

And Duke? Duke gets by unscathed because everyone agrees he wouldn’t be stupid enough to do any of the pranks

Bruce

He has an adoption problem, we all know this

The man practically has adoption papers in his utility belt at this point

The moment a new kid appears in Gotham the batkids all start a betting pool on how long it’ll take him to adopt this one

Most of the time the kids don’t even realize they’re being adopted until it’s too late

“B caught me crying on a rooftop and he disappeared and I was like ‘wow, rude’ but then he came back with some car keys and it may not have fixed my trauma but damn did it feel better to cry in a sports car than on a random gargoyle”

“B gave me an allowance? I was going to say something but this is rent for three months so I guess I’m a bat now?”

Does he even know which kids are his and which aren’t?

(No. He treats every child that frequents his house the exact same because he can’t remember which ones are his and which ones aren’t.)

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b-rainlet · 3 years

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ecco vs/+/or tetch ;). also if you want more alice vs/+/or jervis

This is so hard, why would you do this to me :D

Only Ecco/Jervis for now, this got way too long omg (Tetchcest will be published in a separate post)

(Also beware the stray Ecco/miah analysis that sneaked in there?? I just have lots of thoughts about Ecco lmao)

(Also also I managed to sneak Jerome in there ajsnsnsnd)

Okay, okay so Ecco vs. Jervis? Ecco wins, 100%.

Like, Ecco does her research. Before she met Jerome, she probably already gathered all the info she could get on his accomplices and how he managed to escape Arkham and the like and I feel like she would've been prepared for Jervis.

(In fact, I believe she only ended up hypnotized in the first place because both her and Miah were probably too sure of themselves? Like, they probably didn't consider that Jerome was planning on being taken so therefore Jervis and Jonathan could've simply waited around Ecco's apartment to follow her to Miah's hideout.

But just between us: The whole place is full of cameras and somehow Ecco opens the door to Jervis and Jonathan? I mean, does Miah have one of those speaker systems so Jervis was able to hypnotize her from the other side of the door? I think there was a little suspension of disbelief involved actually).

Anyway Jervis isn't skilled in hand to hand combat and spends his confrontations with Jim hiding behind hostages or siccing his puppets on him (or even Ecco as his accomplice in S5) so Ecco just needs to get close enough to get a good swing in.

And she'd probably be smart enough to carry/wear some earplugs around Jervis if she's planning on attacking him or if they're on hostile grounds with each other. (Because canonly speaking, I don't think he'd hypnotize her. They like each other too much, there no reason for him to do it -other than his desire to be with her romantically-)

(She may even go out of her way to pretend she's hypnotized to trick him and get close enough to knock him the fuck out or kill him, depending on what's her mission there).

Ecco + Jervis....well, we all know my standpoint there aksnsnsn.

I have rambled about this countless times, but maybe not in public so to make it brief, I'm just saying that Ecco is probably the perfect doll Jervis could ever envision.

Like, his - and Miah's - whole thing is control and Miah has expertly shown that he can control at least one person to the point they would willingly die for him without being outright hypnotized and that's big.

On one hand I think that would incline Jervis to work with Miah in the first place - because he recognizes his talent and Ecco is like this shiny little trophy Miah can show off like 'Look what I accomplished, look how powerful I can be'.

And on the other I feel like how Ecco behaves around Miah and is loyal to him is exactly how Jervis wanted his relationship with Alice to be and once again, Miah didn't hypnotize Ecco.

She's doing all this without being forced and Jervis is fucking fascinated by that. He wants her. He wants her to be willing to die for him. He wants her to belong completely and utterly to him alone so he's the one who can show her off and have someone be loving and loyal without the added empty eyes blankly staring at him, expecting the next orders.

(Also I think he likes to paint himself as a gentleman and romantic, so he'd make it this whole show of how lovely Ecco isn't treated right and he would treat her like a princess obviously, completely disregarding the fact that she's really only valuable to him because Miah treated her so lowly and hurt and abused her because that's what made her so loyal. And if need be, he's gonna pick up some of Miah's methods to keep her in line. Only out of love though).

But I do also think that Jervis would see pre-gas and bullet Ecco as a powerful asset to the league and we have seen them get along greatly so if Ecco had more autonomy, he'd definitely treat her like an equal (like he treats Jerome or Jonathan) and he definitely values how she's similar to Jerome but that's a whole other rant.

(Also....he's hot. She's hot. I like them both. Why not like them while they smooch and Jervis gets handsy enough Ecco has to swat his hands away).

One more rambly thing while I'm at it tho:

I think it's very important for Miah and his influence within Gotham to have Ecco at his side.

I mean, not only does she do everything, from recruiting the Maniax to turning Jeremiah into a godlike figure, a messiah to be worshipped, to working with his allies and fighting his enemies, no, she's also his only 'proof' of his power so to say.

I mean, by the time S5 rolls around he does have a reputation among the citizens of Gotham but the villains? I think it's important for him to have Ecco around so he can show off how he can be cunning enough to get people on his side + as a way of threatening them by showing them how cruel he can be (which can range from stuff like using Ecco as his foot rest to outright slapping/choking her in front of people and have her thanking him for it).

If he doesn't have Ecco anymore, not only does he lose his right hand woman, he pretty much loses all his connection to his followers and the villains he worked with and it's gonna be a blow to his status as feared villain because the one who's actually a threat is gone, plus he can't use her to seem more imposing by bossing her around.

Someone has made the argument before that Miah's shit at captivating people through his words and persona (since Ecco draws them in and the moment he's alone with the maniax he loses them and has to burn them alive before they turn on him)-

-*cough cough* Jerome/Ecco parallels *cough cough*-

-so I think it's safe to say that killing her off may have been one of the stupidest decisions he's ever made. And not just because I like her.

He's never gonna find somebody he can manipulate to that point again because unless he plays the long con and really dedicates himself to it (which I think he's too impatient to do after the gas, he freely rolls his eyes at Ecco when he's annoyed with her, I don't think he's patient enough to play the dotting and loving partner for months to get his new Harley to the point she'd shoot herself for him), no one's gonna fall for him.

Jerome? Jerome could easily aquire a Harley and he'd just as easily keep her (mostly because he'd see her as a powerful asset rather than a mindless bimbo to worship him) but Miah? Nah.

He may have the role of helpless victim down but now that he's known as a villain it's gonna be harder to pull off and lure somebody in.

His safest bet would be kidnapping a kid tbh, -not that I ever thought about him kidnapping Barbara Lee, noooo-

Anyways, other fish in the sea? Miah can be lucky the villains still work with him without Ecco present as a mediator, finding a new girl to replace her is gonna be impossible.

(And ohhhh, the deliciousness of a fic where Miah realizes just that but still alive Ecco - because she's always alive, safe for two wips of mine - doesn't wanna go back to him, yeeeeesssss).

Ecco or Jervis?

Well, I don't think anyone's gonna be surprised when I go with Ecco here :D

I mean, I love Jervis and I love the storyline of Alice/Jervis and how neatly it ties into S3 but Ecco is my sweetheart and my baby and can possibly only be topped by Jerome.

-quite literally-

Because while I adore Ecco, canonly speaking there's not much there, I just decided I wanted it to be that deep whereas Jerome has a lot of canon interactions with people and a super interesting storyline, plus a complex familial situation and just...like, not to bash on Miah but he has the perfect set up to be the Joker because he's been around since S1 and him and Bruce have an actual relationship that evolves over time and he has allies he actually gets along with and he's had at least one scene with most of the mains and backstory with most of the mains and it's just so good.

Like....if they'd introduced Ecco independently from Miah just to give Jerome a Harley, I think that would've actually been my dream come true.

(But they couldn't give him a Harley because apparently their definition of Joker/Harley is 'abusive' and it would've been super ooc to suddenly have Jerome run around choking girls into submissions and shooting them so they're not better than him when he's canonly into women who could kick his ass and values them as potential allies (Bridget)).

#There's a lot of thoughts inside of me regarding Ecco/Jervis #And Ecco and Jerome and their parallels #But also Jerome vs Jeremiah in the sense of who is 'better'#Or at least has the better storyline #Anyway #Have this #ecco #It's ecco centric enough to earn the tag #OTP: Tea Party #Also yes I am not chill enough to answer ask games casually I gotta make it something that takes an hour to write #Long post

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currentfandomkick · 4 years

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Reunions are... interesting if you’re a Todd.

Alright, this is based on @bannananorie‘s Tell Me More where Jason Todd is Marinette’s big brother with one exception---Marinette didn’t know where Jason was after she was adopted until after he died when she was ten. They were apart for three years here, as GCPD got her at 7. unedited mess.

Nino, Kim, Alix and the mean girl Chloe knew about ‘the dead brother’ since they were there when at ten Marinette broke before them all. The anxious, bubbly girl with a too wide grin that had a bit of trouble with her French, babbled often and would talk about Gotham with not-quite haunted eyes but with a longing none of them could comprehend, they saw her shut down with the knowledge that GCPS lied.

They knew where her brother was. He died running away from the Waynes. Killed publicly by Joker.

The class only knew her brother was purposely kept from her, her parents lied to about them not knowing where he was, and that now he was dead. His adoptive father was some rich guy that let him die.

Chloe stopped bullying the girl once she changed. Suddenly Gotham was all but illegal to say anywhere Marinette was. Chloe made certain that anyone close to violating it dealt with the Paris police going through their records with a fine tooth comb.

Alix distracted her with history, art, anything she could think of. Broke into Marinette’s house during her catatonic weeks.

Kim kept challenging her, to anything to keep her from thinking about it. He may have inadvertently become a second sibling to Marinette. He knew he was no replacement, but he refused to let her be on her own for long. She needed someone and Kim did always want a younger sibling, so. Two birds, one stone.

Nino took to music mixes, random stories, anything he could think of to get Marinette to smile for a bit. He knew her smile, the one that lit up the room and made everything feel right. The sad eyes were wrong on her, a crime against the universe in his opinion.

The four made a pact after finding out—no one mentions Gotham or her biological family’s history or even asks about her having siblings. They would block all of these questions how they could, as it was just… wrong to see her look like that.

Kim and Nino were the best at keeping up with the pact. They always ended up in her class and had the easiest time distracting her. Kim would issue a challenge, and need a banner. Nino had his headphones and a new playlist at he ready in need of critiquing.

Alix would sometimes find herself working with Marinette on an art project, and if Marinette began to get a blank face anytime she saw gargoyles, well, Alix already liked street art. Why not spray paint the gargoyles into something else?

Chloe was needed the least. Only if a teacher tried to do a heritage project. Chloe would come down with her father and the entire idea would be taken out of the school’s curriculum to “pick a culture your family is from” and no one really questioned it.

Then Liar Rossi appeared in Bustier’s class.

Nino threw Marinette looks as yes, his crush was gone but she never went after someone like she did Lila. The girl was the first to welcome newcomers like Alya, and he knew she didn’t hate anyone more than ‘cons, swindlers and drug dealers’.

He still remembered how his ex-crush took down one of the dealer three streets over trying to sell to a pregnant woman. Marinette didn’t report it—that was a mortified Nino calling Chloe and Sabrina since they’d know what to do when their tiny classmate threw a man to the ground, locked his arm behind him and told Kim to stay with the woman as she called her sober sponsor, shaking and crying the whole time.

Kim didn’t forget the time Marinette took him down when he grabbed her shoulder, throwing him over her shoulder with a wild look in her eyes not long after they first met. He didn’t forget how she kept giving him and the class a number of double takes when they all met her the first time in elementary school. How it took him asking to spar with her and for help with his clothes to get her to trust him as “now you can’t turn your back as easy” and felt his heart go out to her then.

Or that she hardened her eyes when one kid said he knew Batman so she should like him and along with him.

And that she told the kid in perfect French while shaking with rage and a glare that threw everyone off as she was wary but so kind and gently smiled most of the time. “Do not talk to me about Batman or Gotham ever again.”

Gotham was still never mentioned around her—Kim or Nino or Alix would cut off any attempts to bring it up. Or Batman. Somehow it extended into the Justice League. But looking back, he realized that saying things like that where Marinette grew up meant death.

Kim and Nino had a feeling Marinette saw a con, and they both knew the girl was smarter at looking for things like that than them. She was primed for it, and maybe seeing things but maybe… Neither wanted to entertain the thought of being manipulated by a friend.

Alix hadn’t forgotten how Marinette shook the day someone told her Jason Todd was just a stupid street kid that was better off dead. Alix threw the punch before Marinette did, took the detention and had Kim take her to the gym to destroy a few punching bags.

Marinette had that same shake when Lila said she was Ladybug’s best friend. She didn’t know what to make of it.

Chloe saw the liar as such on sight, and told Sabrina the girl was full of it. They both knew the mangy-cat was Ladybug’s best friend.

Alya was enthusiastic about the liar, and it made sense. Alya didn’t know about where Marinette grew up or that she spotted cons and liars and the worst of the worst in ten words or less or about the times she acted to stop their kind.

Everyone knew she was adopted, and that you don’t ever ask about where she was from before unless you wanted Chloe, Alix, Kim or Nino to attack with a vengeance.

Alya knew Marinette was adopted, that she cut her old life out and refused to touch anything from before her adoption. She was curious but the way Marinette shut down the one time she asked and how her boyfriend whispered that that place all but broke Marinette—she didn’t ask.

She did think her girl was jealous over Lila being close to the heroes—especially with her former crush on a certain cat… which made sense with her not seeing Ladybug and Chat Noir as a couple.

It was the heritage project presentation that ended that.

Alya hadn’t know what to do with the Marinette that finally opened up about where she grew up before she was adopted. The words that fell out of her mouth made the girl sick.

Marinette was the sole survivor of her family, watched them die, and Lila made the girl relive that. And Alya saw the girl’s smirk and their teacher trying to get Marinette acting as a role model

Marinette broke down crying when she got away. Lila and Bustier forced her to talk about her Before—the part of her life she threw away because Gotham never gave a damn about her or Jason. The part she buried when she found out he was gone.

This part of Paris always reminded her of him, Jason, her dead brother. The one that GCPS kept her from finding after they caught her for the fifth time. The one that her new parents tried to find from France. The one who died as a ward of none other than Gotham Playboy Billionaire, Bruce Wayne.

Never as a son, always a ward.

Who he then replaced with Tim Drake if the bits of Gotham news that made it through the filters was anything to go by.

She didn’t see the black butterfly that went for her. She just knew it didn’t make it.

Alix took the hit. Became an akuma that she couldn’t remember the name of because this akuma refused to touch a crying Marinette.

She did remember Kim and Chloe of all people finding her. Kim carried her to school while Chloe murmured soothing things that made her distantly wonder if Chloe was getting ready to hurt her. Pity was always a tool to make someone indebted to you, the parts of her she tried to rebury whispered.

The akuma held Lila and Bustier hostage while demanding Marinette be present for the pair’s end.

Chat Noir was fighting on his own.

Marinette tried to get out of Kim’s grip but couldn’t.

She didn’t remember much about the akuma, just that this one brushed away her tears and told her “These are only the first that will pay for his death.”

She remembered absently grabbing what must be the akumatized object, breaking it and wanting this all to end.

That week she went into grief counseling.

Alya and the class practically smothered her, refusing to leave her side. She never told them her old last name, or what her brother’s was.

She hated the class treating her like shattered glass.

She did note that Alya was doing an in-depth deep-dive investigation on the school after purging Lila and posting a number of redactions.

Alya’s hard work and persecution of Bustier and Damocles resulted in international attention on the class.

Apparently they were all involved in some way. Marinette’s extensive notes on what Bustier asked of her (rules to work within, she did best with lists and knowing the rules. Knowing what rules you were playing by kept you alive in Gotham.

Apparently the case of a class suing a teacher and principal for gross incompetence, negligence, and abuse to current and former students landed them a trip to Metropolis. Not Gotham---god she knew her classmates would die there—but Metropolis. To the Daily Planet, so the class could get a better look at investigative journalism.

Somehow before going Chloe found out her old name was Mary instead of Marinette, testing it out. Marinette didn’t know how much she missed hearing it.

The class must have picked up on it. They all refused to call her anything but variants of Mary on the plane. Marinette couldn’t stop laughing when one of the boys asked if they should call her “Bloody Mary” if she took down another asshole—clearly referencing the dealer she may or may not have pinned once in front of Kim and Nino.

The girls took to calling her Mary-gold since they decided they loved the sound of it.

Kim proposed Mare-bear given her well known cuddly teddy bear habit when she fell asleep on him during the flight. This was quickly agreed to by all as Kim’s exclusive nickname for her.

Adrien was the one to ask if he could call her Mae-Bae while they were waiting for their luggage.

Most of the girls squealed over it. They all knew she still had feelings for him and yes, more than a few were hoping for him and Kagami to end their relationship already. Chloe was of the opinion Kagami was too pushy for Adrien, which Sabrina agreed with. The rest of those wishing for the break up was for adrienette to finally happen.

Marinette was bright red and wanted it all to stop because she needed stability and Adrien always threw her around when he did things like that. She liked the nickname but not from him—not while he’s not with her like that and they both know he likes someone else and is probably dating Kagami seriously at this point and just… She can’t go there.

Kim decided to stand in between them on the way to the hotel. Why?

“He had his chance, and for godsake, he’s dating Kagami.”

Adrien was confused by Kim being well, acting like he was her older brother. And he didn’t see what was wrong with the personal nickname since Kim had one too.

It was a bittersweet for Marinette. She missed this from Jason. Jason was dead though and couldn’t. So Kim did what she he couldn’t.

Jason Todd kicked himself when he saw a photo of the class that got caught up in one of Luthor’s plans in Metropolis. Why?

Because he’d recognize his Pixie Pop anywhere. He may be Red Hood, he may not be worthy of talking to her, but he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. And Lex Luthor’s hair brained schemes? That was something he could punch and shoot.

He was there not long after Batman—apparently this battle needed all the help it could get. They didn’t try to stop him when he went to get the hostages out.

He froze when he saw a boy calling his little sister “Mare-Bear” while rubbing her back as she was curled up in a ball, shaking and so, so tiny in the room with a hoodie that was way too big for her on her shoulders.

Before he could say anything he was attacked by the group, his sister’s shaking gone and the boy and her quick to tackle him to the ground and restrain him with—ribbons? Ribbons.

They were speaking French. God, his sister probably wouldn’t shouldn’t recognize him anyway but he thought he could at least talk to her and wait. He knew that look.

She was assessing a threat. He—he was the threat? A goon!

“Are you sure he’s not with them?”

“He not in classic goon wear, and no one goes for easily recognizable when they’re playing goon,” Marinette did her best not to slip completely back into English. It was more for home or her stress rambles and right now she needed to be understood by less-than-fluent French kids.

“Hey!” the man in the helmet turned to her, “kid, Red Hood.”

The group looked at her, Max and Chloe.

“I have no files on them.”

“No idea.”

“His name is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.”

“Gotham, ring a bell?”

The class froze. Marinette knew they were expecting her to break. She didn’t, she wouldn’t again like that. She was working through her grief in a healthy way this time. With heroics and vigilantism too.

“Can’t say I have, stopped keeping up with it after the second Robin disappeared,” Marinette was shaking slightly. But she was the leader right now, she was in charge of getting her class out and maybe freeing other hostages.

“Lets take out the others, get out of here and sort out whatever this,” Marinette gestured to Red Hood, “is later.”

Lila ended up with a gun to her head, by one of the obvious goons, demanding to know who organized their escape.

The class froze.

She was the closest. But also more dangerous as the ‘smart hostage’. They’d isolate her form the others, but unlike the others, she knew how to handle these things.

“Well, who is it!”

Everyone glanced at her, waited for her word.

“I did.” Marinette stepped up, moving to one of the other goons.

She didn’t know Red Hood was watching this from his hiding place with his heart in his throat.

“And who are you?”

“Pixie,” he hissed. He heard his comms crackled to life but he tuned out what was being said. he forgot he was on the old Bat channel.

“Marinette,” she took Lila’s place as hostage with a gun to their head.

The goon took her away from the group.

Red Hood couldn’t follow. He did the next best thing and took them out. His sister’s classmates helped.

Marinette managed to escape the hold with her head intact, and turned his gun onto him. She took out his kneecaps and made it out.

She wasn’t expecting for the class to be out already.

She was shaking for real.

Kim and Nino stayed at her side while she translated their statements to the police, never once looking at the police. She still didn’t trust them—Gotham thing.

Then the icing on the ‘what the hell’ cake made an appearance.

“How are you kids holding up?” Bruce Wayne approached the group.

Marinette stopped shaking. Fear? That vanished as rage decided to take over. All that ran through her mind was ‘he let my brother die.’

Kim knew her tell. “Would you mind leaving us alone sir?”

That caught everyone outside of their class off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“Marinette doesn’t do anything involving her old city after the grade A BS it put her through,” Alix gave him a plastered smile radiating danger.

“And you’re pretty important there,” Alya added, rubbing Marinette’s back. “So as much as I would love to talk with you, Mary-gold’s not going into another grief mess is more important.”

Bruce left at that, but did talk to Clark Kent.

They both missed Red Hood walking over to the group while they looked up the class and who “Mary” was.

“Hey, kid!” the class moved to surround Marinette when he approached. They let him get close enough to be eye level when he kneeled. “Don’t volunteer to be isolated in situations like that. I’m pretty sure your family would hate losing a spitfire like you.”

Marinette fisted her hoodie, slipping into English in her current state. “The first one’s already gone. I’d just be joining my brother.”

“Don’t,” he grabbed her arm, “don’t joke about that shit Pixie!”

Marinette froze. Only one person ever called her that.

Red realized his mistake when he saw her eyes get wide and tear up. “They said you were dead.”

He flinched under his helmet. “I was.”

The officers around them were doing double takes. The place was silent enough then for Bruce to see Red Hood—no, Jason, Jason kneeling before a brunette in pigtails around the age of Mary To—oh. Oh. OH.

He grabbed his phone, calling Tim. “What was Mary Todd’s new name?”

“Gimme a sec B… Marinette Dupain-Cheng, why?”

He hung up.

Red Hood knew it would get bad if he stayed. That he shouldn’t have talked to her. Stupid idea. He was so stupid. She was better off without him.

He ran.

Alfred found him in passing months later, outside of ‘work’.

“Master Jason, I believe she’s looking for you.”

“She’s better off without me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Just you were when you went looking for her?”

He didn’t say anything—what could he say?

He knew she wasn’t better off without him as the person he was before the Pits. But after? After she was so much better off.

He ran again.

Like a coward.

When he made it to his hideout he froze when he realized none of his teammates were there, but he could hear movement in the kitchen.

“Tikki, this is completely necessary!”

“Marinette, I still don’t see how any of this will help with Hawkmoth.”

“I, he’s my brother, and I can’t, I can’t keep doing this without help.”

He froze. His sister needed help? With what?

“You have me and Chat, I don’t see how bringing in someone else would do any good.”

His sister has a team. And who the hell is this French cat she’s working with?

“Everyone else was outted during the last battle. And Master is…” he heard the movement stop.

Her team was severely screwed over then. He could see from the glass she dropped a spoon. Stirring something. She was cooking? Baking? And oh god, that didn’t look right, her hunching over.

A red dot moved to her shoulder, speaking some language he didn’t know He did catch. “Marinette” and “Ladybug”. And that, that sounded suspiciously familiar. He’d look into it later…

“I, I know but I can’t keep looking on my own and we both know Chat’s civilian life makes it almost impossible for him to get away unless there’s an attack, and I can’t takedown Hawkmoth on my own.”

He was done waiting.

“Pixie.”

“Jason!” She spun around, her eyes were—god she’d been crying. She was wringing her hands then. “I, surprise?”

He got close enough to see what she was making. It looked like their old version of ‘sink sundaes’ on a cookie.

He had a million questions to ask but the first one that he asked was “When the hell did you get glasses?”

Great job, you completely avoided the real question, he berated himself.

“Oh, this,” Marinette touched them. “I, uh, needed to find you and uh, maybe we can sit down and I can explain?”

One long winded explanation later and he saw his sister tuck her hair behind her ear, her nervous tell.

“So, um, I know you’re busy taking down dealers and monsters here and Gotham needs all the help it can get, but… do you think you could take a break to help me take down a magic terrorist?”

“And leave you alone to take on being a magic zookeeper---”

“HEY!”

“--And play detective when we both know you suck as every who-dun-it game?”

Marinette gave a sheepish smile.

“Of fucking course I’m going. Shit, I’ll have to message B and…”

Not even an hour later Jason had Marinette on a video call while eating sink Sundays on skillet cookies.

“Hey B, what the hell does the League have on Hawkmoth and Miraculous?”

Batman stared at Jason and Mary Todd. Eating icecream and cookies. on his batcomputer.

“…who?”

“You failed me B, really.”

Marinette decided a small victory dance was in order, as she knew it “Told you, the order was almost extinct for two centuries. No way Batman or the League would know about them.”

That was a challenge. But also…

“Mary, why are you on this call?”

Marinette straightened up then. “uh, Ladybug for this. One of two active Heroes of Paris, currently the only Guardian of the Miraculous living and able to remember them, and stealing my brother for ‘ending a reign of terror’ purposes.”

Batman twitched. He hadn’t even incorporated her into either of his identity’s lives and she was more involved than any of his kids had been at her age.

“Pay up peasants.”

Batman turned to see his other two sons swearing while handing Damian a large amount of cash. “I told you if Todd did have a sister, she would already be involved as Todd was before Father took him in.”

BONUS for daminette shippers

Mary pointed on the screen. “That’s the one you call demon spawn, right?”

Damian looked at the bat computer then, and stood up a bit straighter and—oh no. Bruce knew that look in his eyes from his own face enough times. Even if Damian’s was scowling.

“Todd, must you?”

“I must. Now, I’m going to going back with my sister, staying with her parents, and wont’ be available as we will be knee deep in magic and investigations.”

“And baking,” Marinette piped up, “Maman and Papa will drag you into learning some part of the family business, and no one interrupts a bread rise without severe consequences.”

“Noted.” Bruce really hated this.

“What kind of threat is this Hawkmoth?” Damian asked.

“He basically brainwashes you with magic into transforming into something with whatever made you really, really upset. I can undo the damage and you don’t remember being brainwashed and all but…”

“And you’re taking Todd?” Damian scoffed. “Father, I will join them to ensure that if he falls to this brainwashing.”

Bruce did not like this.

Jason narrowed his eyes at Damian.

“I can go as a civilian and be covert if you’d prefer.”

“I, sure. I could use someone to cover during my classes when I have to leave since they’ve been hovering a lot more lately.”

“Excellent. We can discuss cover stories at a later point in time. For now, I have other business to attend to.”

Bruce would later learn said business was arguing with Jon over if it was ethical to propose faking a relationship to maintain a cover as civilians, or if him ‘reconnecting’ with a shared relative was better. And debating his outfits for Paris.

Apparently it didn’t have to be either covers as by the time the paperwork for Damian’s transfer was through, Jason and Damian had returned to Marinette’s suspect, Gabriel Agreste.

Jason’s camera caught a corrupted butterfly escaping the home. Then another. And another.

Damian was… sulking? Bruce didn’t even know.

Later Bruce would watch Hal be torn a new one not by Wonder Woman but Red Hood and Robin while Ladybug was… fangirling? Fangirling, over Diana’s mother and her accomplishments as a Ladybug.

And if Chat Noir was a little sullen until his teammate mentioned a former cat on Themyscira and was then alert and curious and oh god he could not, under any circumstances, allow him to meet Catwoman.

It turned out they were both terrified of the woman on the principle of magic jewelry and jewel thief. He’d take small mercies.

He decided there were no mercies, only trade offs in his misery.

Damian held Marinette’s hand and pecked her cheek. In front of Jason.

He groaned when Jason began to chase Damian, who used Dick as a willing shield and spilled Tim’s coffee, adding him to the chase.

Alfred gave Marinette a cookie. “I see Master Damian decided to announce your relationship.”

They heard gun shots.

She was a bit red. “I thought we’d be telling him once we were away from easy access weapons.”

“It seems Master Damian grew impatient.”

Well that’s it. I had to make a happy ending and then i decided it needed to have something fluffy at the end, so flagship of maribat it was.

needed a break from my au for a day so i worked (mostly) in someone else’s.

#maribat #my writing #it was angsty then i fixed it #some lila exposed #consequences exist

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twistedtummies2 · 3 years

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Gotham’s 31 Most Wanted - Number 2

Welcome back to Gotham’s 31 Most Wanted! Each day of January, I’ve been counting down my Top 31 Favorite Batman Villains of all time! Today, we’re covering My Second Favorite Batman Villain! And he is a puzzling fellow, indeed. Number 2 is…The Riddler.

Edward Nygma, a.k.a. The Riddler, is another of those villains who has gone through various ups and downs in his long history. The basic idea of the character has always remained the same: obsessed with puzzles and word games since childhood, and consumed by a compulsive need for attention and respect, the Riddler is a villain who longs to prove himself Gotham’s Cleverest Carbon-Based Lifeform. The character is frankly one of the biggest egotists in Gotham City, seemingly suffering from a sort of superiority-inferiority complex; a constant need to put others down in order to boost himself up, as he tries to present himself as the smartest person in Gotham, and perhaps even the world. Riddler’s modus operandi is as follows: the character gets his moniker from a habit of leaving clues for Batman and the police to solve, usually in the form of riddles or puzzles of some sort. These clues can be hints to his next caper, a way to stop him, where he’s hiding out…maybe even all of the above. He also makes a habit of creating complicated and elaborate death traps, all of which DO have weaknesses of some kind, but it is up to those trying to break them to figure out what they are. Some of his “games” are simple, others are far more complex, but they are all created with the express purpose of flaunting Riddler’s intelligence, as he waits for the moment when his pursuers will fail to guess the answers and find the solutions. This fundamental flaw in Nygma’s personality is where a lot of the less-than-stellar reception he’s gotten comes from: who in their right mind expects to be a great villain when they deliberately create clues and weaknesses? Indeed, there was a period in time where the Riddler was widely regarded as something of a “Loser Villain;” a clumsy goofball who thought he was smarter than he really was. While villains like Penguin or Scarecrow have gone through dips in their careers, they are usually treated with some element of respect even in their lowest points; the Riddler seemed to be a character that even the staff at DC felt was no good for a time, and I’m sorry to say that it is still a feeling I’ve seen circulated here and there, though it isn’t as common nowadays. What I think people miss when they look at that is that they’ve answered the riddle of the Riddler simply by asking that question: who in their right mind does things like that? Answer: NO ONE. Edward Nygma is, in his own way, one of the most demented Batman Villains of all time. Time and again he’s TRIED to give up his habits, or at least create clues and puzzles so baffling they CAN’T be solved, period…but time and again, he FAILS. He just can’t stop himself. He CRAVES that sense of victory, of proving that he’s better and smarter than everyone around him. He’s tried to reform a couple times throughout the years, but inevitably, the thrill of crime and the infamy it brings him calls him back to the darkness. It’s almost tragic, really. The other thing that people miss, despite it being pointed out frequently by many an analyst and scholar, is that the Riddler is a very specific sort of enemy: again, many villains reflect Batman in some way, and the Riddler, above ALL of the rest, seems to be the one who acts as the great adversary to Batman as a detective and problem-solver. The Riddler typically does NOT make his games easy to solve; the challenge for the Dark Knight is finding ways to escape, or free the hostages, or stop the robbery, or whatever he has to do, with limited time. Can he figure out the secret before it’s too late? THAT is the kind of game the Riddler plays: it’s not a matter of deliberately trying to lose, and it’s not as if he’s not a dangerous character. He’s recognizably (nowadays) a genius, gifted in many fields of science and other academic elements, and with a keen deductive mind that honestly could outclass Batman’s own. Bottom line: for a person trying to prove he’s the smartest in the world…what is harder to pull off than the perfect crime? The sensation that everyone knows you’re responsible, but nobody can prove it or stop it? He wants his name up in lights, as he howls to the world that he cannot be outsmarted; that’s not a character who is fundamentally weak, it’s simply a character who is fundamentally unhinged. I’ve always loved the Riddler; there’s never been a time in my life where I WOULDN’T defend him as one of Batman’s greatest villains. I love characters who are clever, intelligent, mischievous, perhaps dangerous, and who can be enigmatic and strange while also fascinating. The Riddler is all of these things, and I’m glad that, in recent times, he HAS been getting more and more respect. He really does deserve it. While not every story or interpretation has been perfect, we’re currently in one of the “ups” of his career as I type this, and I hope the next “down” doesn’t come for a while. Tomorrow the countdown comes to an end. The time will soon be here to talk about My All Time Favorite Batman Villain. HINT: He Can’t Be Killed; That’s Why They Cast a Phoenix to Play Him. (If you got that reference, you are awesome.)

#gotham's 31 most wanted #january advent calendar #new year's countdown #batman villains #batman #villains #dc #comics #supervillains #rogues gallery #best #favorites #riddler #edward nygma #edward #nygma #e. nygma

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winterwolf0916 · 4 years

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{Nightshade} ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

Dick Grayson x Nightshade! Reader

Requested by @palechick: Hi! Can you do a Dick Grayson Fluff for 31 ”You’re Alive!?” on the prompts list you reblogged? I’ve had the idea of the (S/O) being nightshade and disappearing for two years them coming back. I always thought it would be cute if she went missing when he was Robin and then came back to him being Nightwing. I’ve never had the guts to write it though. This is such a long request sorry. 💕

Warning: Fluff and angst.

A/n: ooooh! Love the angst requests <3 Forgive me if it isn’t the best or what you hoped. And forgive me that I took a while. I wasn’t too sure if she was a villain or hero, but I went by what I searched up. Hope you enjoy it love.

Word count: 1768

“Hey bird brain.” You could tell he was rolling his eyes under the mask.

“What are you doing here?” You shrugged.

“Can’t say, snitches get stitches~”

As you lifted your hand, your powers formed large dark claws, hovering above your fingers.

“Don’t do this.” His hand was hovering over his utility belt. Your smirk grew as you threw your claws towards him.

You were in Gotham’s bank. And why were you there in the first place?

Harley

Ducking

Quinn

You both snuck out of the Suicide Squad facility for a “little fun.”

And by fun, she meant heading to Gotham’s bank and taking out cash.

Apparently she left you for her sake of escaping and not getting caught.

So here you are now, having a show down with one of the batbrats.

Well… your favorite one at least.

Dick Grayson.

Yep. You knew his identity and he to yours.

A few years ago, you both met at the library. A funny place to meet when he’s a hero and you’re a villian(ish).

You were the new girl and he was your guide that soon became to be your best friend.

That is until night time. That’s when things get intense and slightly (very) flirty.

Until one day, clay face barged into gotham academy because he needed a rich/young hostage to trade for cash.

And as Robin came into the picture, you knew he needed assistance.

It would sure ruin your reputation with the other villians in Gotham. But screw it because you can easily cover your tracks and its just one day.

So you helped/kicked ass.

After clayface was taken away, that’s when you both revealed who’s behind the mask.

“I really don’t want to hurt you, Nightshade.” He twirled his bostaff.

“Aww don’t get too soft with me-*sniff*- shit.”

He frowned before taking a whiff as well, causing his eyes to widen.

Fire

“You’ll take the two floors, I get everything above that.” You ordered. Sure you’re a bad guy but you couldn’t lie to yourself that hurting people isn’t your style. Especially infront of your crush. Dick.

Before you could teleport, a hand grabbed onto your forearm.

“Be careful, y/n.” He whispered, making sure no one hears.

“I’ll be back, I promise.” You grinned then left to the top floors.

After the hostages and the people were out of the building, Dick felt something was wrong.

Very Wrong

You weren’t coming out. And the building was in large flames.

As he was about to barge inside to save you, the building exploded.

He was shocked.

And his heart clenched.

After the explosion, he searched for you.

Highs and lows.

He called your name so many times.

And there was no answer

Until he found your costume under a pile of rubble. Torn.

His heart dropped.

You couldn’t be gone.

And he didn’t stop from there.

He searched even more.

At the school, the suicide squad facility, places you both like to talk, your hiding places, even the damn Arkham Asylum.

But so far, he couldn’t find you.

You were wiped off of the face of the Earth.

That’s when he-

He couldn’t believe it.

You were gone.

Oh how his heart broke.

How he blamed himself he couldn’t save you back then.

He grieved.

He deeply regrets from letting you go.

The first couple of months wasn’t easy.

He would sometimes ignore Bruce.

Becoming harsh and violent while being Robin.

Straying away from his friends and family

Locking himself in his room, thinking that he knew he couldn’t save everyone.

But why does it have to be you?

Why couldn’t he save you?

He didn’t care that you were evil.

Because he knows you.

You hate hurting others for fun. You hate using your powers to destroy instead of creating, You hate sitting in your cell, listening to Walker giving you orders, and treated harshly under her care.

You hated being evil and wanted out.

At the end of the year, Bruce fired him.

Dick felt all kinds of emotions as he left to Bludhaven.

And he wasn’t feeling better.

He still felt numb and thinks about you everyday. Thinking of scenarios about having you here.

He would visit your grave in Gotham. Talking to you about his day, how he misses you, and dropping off roses.

In the beginning of the second year he changed his vigilante identity.

From the Robin that witnessed your death to something quite new.

After talking with Superman onto the legend from his birth planet, he figured a new name.

It was perfect as well.

In order to honor your death, he took a part of your vigilante name.

Instead of Nightshade it was Nightwing.

During the second year, he would still visit your grave. Your death still left a scar on him.

As he was leading the Titans, his teammates were quite curious to know who you were. Smiling in the small picture with Dick in your student uniforms infront of Gotham Academy.

They would see the small photo when they would walk into his room and call him for diner or for a meeting.

But Dick just quickly changed the subject and say you were an old friend.

That is until the anniversery of your death came along.

The Titans would be lying if they didn’t notice Dick acting odd.

He was harsh in training and when there was a meeting or the team invited him to join an activity, he rejects it.

Not only that, he was spending most of his time locked in his room. They were concerned about him and sent Raven.

As she placed her hand on his shoulder, she saw the reason why Dick was upset. He have every right to be.

“I’m so sorry.” Raven apologized wiping the tears from her eyes from feeling Dick’s pain.

“What were you doing in my head?”

“We were worried and they thought I could be some assistance to you since you’re upset…but I understand now and…I’m so so sorry for your loss.” Dick just rubbed his temples and let out a sigh.

“Just…I-I need a moment to myself.”

As he left to the city for cool himself off, he decides to go to the library that you both used to visit when you were younger.

It was a place of quiet and where worries don’t exist. He headed up to your favorite book section. As he found your favorite book he began to smile.

Everything was at peace, that is until a shadow was thrown through the large windows and cashed onto tables and chairs.

Dick rushed to the scene to investigate as civilians were rushing out.

He could hear the figure groan in pain and mutter curses.

As he stepped infront to have a better view of who was thrown in to the window, his entire being froze.

He couldn’t believe of what he was seeing.

He thought he was having an illusion but no…. you were there.

As you look up to see the handsome pedestrian, you caught your breath as you recognized who he is.

“Dick…LOOK OUT!” you threw yourself around him and teleported in time before Grundy was about to throw his fists down to crush him.

As you both reappeared outside of the building and letting Dick go, you were about to teleport back inside to stop Grundy until-

“You’re Alive?!”

“Um…Am I not?” You teased hoping he would calm down.

“Don’t joke around on this! I thought you were dead!”

“Well I’m here now aren’t I?” He still couldn’t stand your teasing. He needs answers.

"Cut the shit and tell me what happened."

"Now that's a funny story-"

“Y/N.”

“Oh I’m sorry! Walter putting me on lock down for a damn year isn’t enough for you? Plus another year of hiding while she’s hot on my tail!”

“Walter caught you?”

“Didn’t she tell you?!”

Judging by Dick’s silence, y/n figured Walter lied to him about you. Well why wouldn’t she? That old woman could see you getting distracted with Dick and she needs to get rid of it.

"Why didn't you tell me? Or at least see me?" He was hurt. Angry. And confused. But at the same time...He felt relieved, excited, and hopeful because...you're here now.

"I was trying to protect y-" The next thing you know, your back hit the wall and you fell to the floor. And the hit was quite powerful that you blacked out.

Hours later you were on something soft. A bed? It wasn't yours because its always hard and thin back in the suicide squad facility.

As you opened your eyes, you were for sure you weren't in your room. And it wasn't the hospital either.

As you sat up and gazed at the window, you were in a building apart from the city and surrounded by water. It was beautiful and calming to the sight.

"You're awake." You snapped your head to the door to find Dick with a tray of food. He was suprised as well.

"And you're-You're hurt." Your teasing tone shifted into a worried one. There was a bruise on his arm. You threw the sheets off, stumbled trying to walk to him, and trying to ignore painful spots around your body.

That is until your leg let out a hurting sting causing you to fall. But of course, Dick wouldn't allow that to happen. He caught you in time before the rest of your limbs could meet the floor.

"I'm alright. I got you." He knew for you it would be too painful to drag you back to the bed so he slowly helped you down, with you in his arms.

"You're such an idiot. A handsome one but stupidly reckless." You wrapped your arms around him and gave him a tight squeeze.

Finally Dick let himself go.

He gave a squeeze as well and gave a long kiss to your temple. It was a warm reunion. And the right way to do it instead of bickering behind the library building.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Dick-"

He had enough of it. Enough of the apologizing from different people and he didn't want to hear it from you because it wasn't your fault. A nasty woman was tearing her down and she had to escape and hide. But certainly not with him or else Walter would've destroyed or controlled Dick in a merciless way.

You let out a gasp as his lips pressed onto yours. It was soft at first then it quickly went deeper as you kissed back. You both waited ever so desperately to do this and now you are.

As you both pulled apart slightly heaving, you gave another hug.

Dick burying his face in the crook of your neck, peppering with kisses, while you breathe in his scent.

"I love you." You confessed. Dick froze and pulled back to face you.

"I love you too." He placed his hand on your cheek, rubbing your face with his thumb while smiling softly. You took his hand and kissed it.

"I won't leave you again. And that's a promise I'll keep."

With a pause and a kiss to your forehead he said, "You better."

FIN~~

#dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson headcannon #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #nightwing x reader #nightwing x y/n #nightwing imagine #nightwing headcanon #dick grayson imagine #dc x you #dc x y/n #dc x reader #batfamily x reader #nightshade

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bigfan-fanfic · 4 years

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Making Bad Look Good Part 2

A second part! Featuring... Two-Face, Deathstroke, Deadshot, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, Mad Hatter, Hush, Zsasz, Klarion the Witch Boy, and the Court of Owls!

I got a ton of requests for these, and you’ve all been so helpful! This one’s for you!

Making Bad Look Good part 2 - a.k.a. another 6 Degrees of Evil Bacon

Warning: Long post ahead.

Two-Face - Harvey Dent

You met Two-Face back when he was District Attorney for Gotham.

He was no “Ce-SEAL-Your-Fate” Horton from Central City, but he was doing a bang-up job putting criminals behind bars, cracking their insanity pleas.

So you went to meet him after a case where he got the Penguin sentenced to Blackgate instead of Arkham.

Sure, he’ll probably escape, but the precedent the case sets is important.

“Mr. Wayne! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just came to meet our amazing new D.A.”

You make small talk, until you decide to ask him to lunch to congratulate him on the case.

He grins. “Okay. But we’ll flip a coin for the check. Heads, you pay. Tails, my treat.”

You shrug.

He flips a strange coin that he tells you is his lucky charm.

It comes up heads, on the side that looks like it’s been corroded.

You smirk. “That’s a double-headed coin, isn’t it?”

He laughs. “Yup. Most people don’t get it so quick.”

He shakes your hand and offers to pay anyway since you were such a good sport.

After he becomes Two-Face, it’s this moment you choose to remember...

Deathstroke and Deadshot - Slade Wilson and Floyd Lawton

There have been quite a few times when you were targeted by an assassin or two.

But that particular time, you were the prize for a competition between them.

Slade and Lawton had been hired to take you out, but only the actual killer would get the other half of the payment.

So one day, Deadshot is setting up the hit, angling a crazy shot to hit you through the back of the skull and bamboozle all ballistics tests. You come into range, and he shoots -

-only to see you get shoved out of the way by the eyepatch-ed Slade Wilson.

Bruce wants to sequester you in the Batcave, but instead, you tell him to set up a meeting as Batman.

It’s fun to throw money at problems.

On a rooftop, the Bat behind you, you offer Slade and Lawton double the total for your contract to give you the name of their employer and void the hit.

It’s technically against whatever assassin code there is, but you know, money tends to grease the wheels of any machine.

Deadshot takes the money and tells you it was some crackpot billionaire trying to get at Bruce. He also chuckles and says that he’s available if you ever have more money to throw and a grudge for him to carry out.

Deathstroke also takes the money and nods at you before leaving.

And while Slade comes back to torment you and your sons time and again, Floyd is actually quite pleasant. You sometimes hire him when you need security, which he calls easy money, and from that point, your husband almost never encounters him on the job...

Harley Quinn - Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel

“Paging Dr. Quinzel. Dr. Quinzel, to the front desk.”

You and some other Gotham big shots were invited to Arkham for a publicity tour. Reporters are there, too, including Clark, so you feel pretty safe.

A surprisingly young woman comes to play tour guide, her hair in slight pigtails.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Quinzel. Currently I’m junior psychologist here at Arkham Asylum.” She has a bit of a New York accent, though you can tell she’s worked hard to soften it.

One reporter asks just how “junior” she is, and she gives an indulgent chuckle. “Yes, I graduated med school early, so I’m a bit young for a specialized doctor. But I’m also one of the only medical professionals still willing to work at Arkham, so I think that’s what counts, right?”

The tour goes well enough, until you raise your hand. “You’re the psychologist in charge of the Joker, right?”

Dr. Quinzel smiles in a strange way. “Yes, that I am.”

You frown. “And do you think, as a junior psychologist, you’re adequately prepared for him?”

“I know that I am a medical professional, Mr. Wayne, and I am certainly qualified to examine my patients.”

But Dr. Quinzel, just for a moment, looks fractured, torn. Like there’s some sort of internal war raging in her soul. But it gets absorbed in her too-wide smile.

You put it down to nerves about meeting the press, and let it go.

You always wonder if there was something you could’ve done for the woman, prevented it from all going wrong, prevented her from becoming Harley Quinn...

Poison Ivy - Dr. Pamela Isley

Pamela was going to college at about the same time you were.

You weren’t friends, exactly, although you did both share a class in Professor Crane’s Intro Psych course (an elective for both of you).

There were a lot of rumors about her. You chose not to engage in the gossip, especially as it was a lot about her sleeping with her Biology professor for a better grade.

You had to do a project with her for your final grade, and she invited you to her apartment to work on it together.

It was full of plants. She mentions it before you have a chance to even think about bringing them up.

“They’re my babies.” she jokes. “So much easier to take care of than pets.”

You smile. “All the oxygen probably helps you work better, right?”

She nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

She talks about how she’s going to be a botanist when she graduates, and she’s going to work for the EPA. She’s very self-interested, but genuine, and you have fun while working on the project.

But only a few weeks after you turn in the project, she disappears. Rumors abound about how she ran off with the Bio professor. Some say they were having an affair. Others are kinder and say they’re on a botanical conservation mission in some swamp somewhere.

Either way, you never see Pamela again.

At least, until Poison Ivy shows up in town...

(Side note: Drew Barrymore as Poison Ivy? Thoughts?)

Mr. Freeze - Dr. Victor Fries

Fries shows up one day out of nowhere

Just shooting with that cold gun.

He attacks a gala event for the Wayne Foundation and holds it up for jewelry and the cash being raised for the underprivileged of Gotham..

You glare at him. “You know you’re just taking money right out of the pocket of needy kids, right?”

“It’s for a good cause.” He says darkly.

“And what cause would that be?”

He sneers at you. “Disease research, mainly.”

The phrase surprises you.

Later, Bruce is doing research at the Batcave. “He goes by Mr. Freeze. Born: Victor Fries. Wife Nora suffers from Stage Four of a rare pneumonia-like condition known as MacGregor Syndrome. He had her cryogenically frozen, and now it seems like he’s turned to crime to fund his research into a cure.”

You hesitate. “Well... is there something we can do to help him?”

“Help him? May I remind you that he held hundreds of people hostage?”

“Well...” you shrug. “I just figure that maybe he wouldn’t be so... crime-y if his wife was being taken care of. I don’t know what I’d do if I was so close to losing you.”

Bruce softens slightly. “Look, Freeze committed a crime - several crimes, and he has to go to jail. But if it makes you feel better, we can have Wayne Enterprise’s medical division look into studying her disease. Judging from what I see here, MacGregor Syndrome has similarities with many other diseases. It might be a key in finding lots more cures.”

You smile and hug him. “Lead with that. Tell Fries that we’re willing to do that.”

Of course, Fries’ future crimes are due to the cost of maintaining his portable cryogenic suit, but you hear a lot less about it than you expect, especially since Nora is being taken care of...

Mad Hatter - Jervis Tetch

You were meeting a couple of old school friends at a tea parlor one day. It’s nice to escape the stress of your life and reminisce.

Roland and Alicia are a cute couple, and they tell you they have a baby on the way.

But the day is marred by a strange incident in which a small man in a top hat and tails (tuxedo tails) comes up to your table and starts babbling at Alicia, calling her “Alice” and trying to touch her blond hair, despite her attempts to shove him away..

Roland gets angry and punches the man, but before he can go any further, you pull him back.

The strange man glances at you. “The Dormouse...” he mutters, and walks away.

“What a creep.” Alicia shudders.

You’ve already figured it out. The man is deluded, thinking he’s the Mad Hatter, and he seems to be trying to fit everything into his Wonderland-inspired delusions. You tell Bruce about this, and he immediately agrees that Alicia is in danger.

You go to their hotel room to see them, warn them, but Roland answers the door wearing a bowler hat and Alicia is nowhere to be found.

Roland attacks you, knocking you out and kidnapping you.

Thankfully Bruce has been watching as Batman and follows.

You wake up tied to a chair around a tea table. Alicia is tied to another chair in an Alice-in-Wonderland costume, looking terrified.

Jervis Tetch reveals himself and points out his minions, enslaved with his mind control headwear.

“Very spiffy, if I do say so myself.” you say cheerily. “Quite the milliner you are, my good sir.” (Alicia looks at you like you’re crazy)

Jervis loves the flattery, and it distracts him long enough for Batman to smash through the glass ceiling and knock the hat off his head, disabling the control.

Sure, no one was hurt much, but needless to say you would have to visit Alicia and Roland in the future instead of ever having them come to Gotham...

Hush - Dr. Tommy Elliot

“We’re having lunch with an old friend of mine.” Bruce announces.

You raise an eyebrow. “Wait a minute. Why don’t I know who this is? We have pretty much all the same old friends. I mean, we were together, like, all the time.”

“You remember Tommy, right?”

“Tommy? No, Tommy doesn’t ring a bell, hon.”

Bruce sighs, and you laugh. This is as animated as you’ve seen him in a while. “Come on, Tommy Elliot! Back when we were little! We used to play Robin Hood together in the park, and you two always fought over who got to be the Sheriff of Nottingham?”

“Yeah, nope. No memory of that.”

He sighs, but you go with him anyway. It hits you when you see the man at the restaurant. He was that kid! His parents were friends with Bruce’s parents. They had almost died in an accident when Bruce’s dad saved them.

He’d always try to play this strategy game thing with you and Bruce. It was only two players, and while he’d always beat Bruce (your husband wasn’t always the tactician he was now), he’d get really frustrated playing against you.

Tommy liked to try and get inside your head to beat you, figure out what you were going to do and then planning for it.

But you could tell what he was doing, and kept doing random moves you wouldn’t normally play, throwing him off and winning.

You didn’t like him much, and you kinda got the feeling he didn’t like Bruce that much either.

“Oh. That Tommy.”

Bruce looks at your worried face. “What’s wrong? If you really don’t want to, we can cancel.”

“Oh, hush. We’re already here. Least we can do is have a nice lunch...”

Zsasz - Victor Zsasz

It’s never a good sign when a payphone rings. So many bad reasons...

Not the least of which is that barely anyone even uses payphones anymore.

Let alone to call another payphone. I mean, how does that even work?

So it startles you when you’re walking Gotham (during the day, of course), and a payphone rings. No one else is around to answer it.

You start to walk away, and then the next payphone rings when you reach it.

The other guy near it jumps like fifty feet in the air, but then goes to answer it.

He looks scared. “It’s... it’s for you.”

You sigh and take the phone

“Ignoring my calls? Naughty...”

“Um... wrong number. This is a payphone, not, uh, whoever you were calling.”

“This isn’t Y/N Wayne?”

“Yeah, no, it isn’t. May I ask who’s calling, though?”

“I know it’s you, Y/N. You don’t know me. Yet.”

“Look, I know Halloween’s coming up, but I’m not in the mood for Scream right now, okay?”

“This isn’t a scary movie, it’s real. My name is Zsasz.”

“Z- zsa... okay, how is that spelled?”

“Z. S. A. S. Z.”

“Oh, that’s beautiful. If you don’t mind me asking, is that Polish?”

“...What?”

“Sorry, I have to run, but it was nice talking to you!”

You run home and immediately tell Bruce you talked to Zsasz. Luckily you were running a trace with your phone - a little extra Tim developed for you. Within the hour, Batman has Zsasz in custody, saving the poor people he had kidnapped to add to his tally...

Klarion the Witch Boy

“Oh, hello! Who are you, little guy?”

The orange tabby glares at you with utter hate. It flicks its tail, but surprisingly, comes closer and curls around your legs.

It allows you to pick it up, and it purrs.

“Teekl! My word!” a boy comes running up to you, wearing a tailored suit and a newsboy cap.

The boy snatches the tabby from you and pets it, despite how it looks like it wants to go back to you. “What were you doing with Teekl?”

“That’s its name? He’s a cute little guy. Uh, he just wandered in front of me and basically asked me to pet him.”

The boy glares at the cat. “You TALKED to him?”

The cat looks at him and rolls its eyes.

“Um, who are you, kid?”

He looks at you incredulously. “Seriously, mortal? You haven’t heard of me? I am Klarion! Klarion the Witch Boy! And this is my familiar, Teekl.”

You nod seriously. “Good for you, kid.”

He seems about to throw a tantrum, so you wave and leave the boy dumbfounded...

The Court of Owls

“Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time,

Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime.

They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed,

Speak not a whispered word of them

Or they’ll send the Talon for your head...”

“That’s a stupid poem. It doesn’t even keep time.”

“It’s free verse.”

“Yeah, free ‘cause no one would pay for it.”

You and Bruce were only kids when you heard the old rhyme. Bruce was trying to scare you as a Halloween season joke, but it wasn’t working.

“Come on, Y/N! At least pretend to play along!”

Thomas Wayne enters the living room, and pretends to scold Bruce. “Now, Bruce, be hospitable to your guest. What’s the argument about?”

You smirk. “Bruce says that there’s a Court of Owls who eat limes and put talons on people’s heads.”

Thomas hunches down, making a spooky face. “Well, Y/N, it’s an old Gotham story. It’s a very bad thing that Bruce told you. You’ll have to be very careful now.”

He looks dead serious, and now you’re scared. “Really? What should I do, Mr. Wayne?”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll have to be a very good kid all your life, Y/N. Never go out after dark without your parents’ permission. Don’t ever cheat on a test. Don’t lie. And if you ever see someone in an Owl mask, look the other way and forget you saw it.”

He grins, dropping the facade. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I just couldn’t help it. Hope I didn’t scare you too badly.”

Being a stubborn child, you insist he didn’t. After all, you’re old enough not to be scared by that stuff anymore.

But on the way home, after your parents pick you up, you notice something.

A tall figure in an alley, wearing a stylized white Owl mask.

You quickly look away, trying to put it out of your head, mumbling the rhyme to yourself.

“Beware the Court of Owls...”

You forget about this until far later in life, after you, as Y/N Wayne, have become an enemy of the dreaded Court...

#batdad reader #male reader #batman x male reader #batman headcanons #dc headcanons #headcanon

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monkey-network · 4 years

Text

to Defend Desti’s Death

I’m not particularly one to make major response posts like these, but I feel these thoughts I’ve had have simmered for quite a while now and I just wanted to get this off my chest. To some that may know, I’m a fan of the Anime Arc cuz honestly, it was fun and hype to sit through. On the look back, it still is, even with the noticeable drawbacks. But I won’t deny that the moment we fans know is divisive is one for a reason. For some, it was bad and other say it was good but frankly I haven’t seen many properly explain why. Which is where I want to come in momentarily, give my two cents on why Desti’s passing worked on an objective level.

Initially, and I hate doing this, but I gotta respond to the most notable saying of why it doesn’t work. So link here for the argument: https://todpolle.tumblr.com/post/185301760988/meme-gene-scene-how-to-kill-a-life. And I only wish to say, no hard feelings @todpolle. I’ll get to the main argument in a moment but I wanted to discuss the setup point where it revolves around the deaths of Avocato from Final Space and Gamma from Sonic Adventure.

Now truly, I remember these passing moments fondly but I feel that comparing them to Desti’s death is noticeably unfair if we wanna talk contextually. Like if we’re taking both series to its full context, Final Space has the disadvantage where it resurrected Avocato while SMG4 kept Desti dead; the resurrection not only undercutting the weight of the initial departure but having not as much weight as before. Much as I like Avocato, having a “No One’s Ever Really Gone” approach to Final Space kinda devalued the idea that death is permanent for Gary and his friend, if only for a moment. If Desti’s resurrected later on, I’ll eat that crow, but that is doubtful. Though, if we take season 2 out the equation, it’s fair to say both deaths have their considered impacts with who it affects especially.

I’ll express that a little later, but I want to move over to Gamma’s death where, and I hate to say this, it’s an unfair comparison all around cuz Gamma’s story doesn’t have the same set pieces as Desti’s because contextually his death was understandably sacrificial, he willingly self-destruct after knowing his true identity. Heck, you can’t even stack Gamma’s with Avocato’s because his heroic death meant something far different than the other two. Nah, I say the death reminiscent to Desti’s the most is with Aeris’ of Final Fantasy VII. But, I think it’s fair to first point out what this counter purposefully omitted: Desti’s character.

Now it would stand to believe the most we see of Desti aside the anime arc is “If Mario was in Splatoon 2”. But to say that is all to her character is being ignorant towards her character because the anime arc furthers expressed who Desti was as a character. She was prideful, no-nonsense, loves being a step of Meggy even when it means playing unfair. She was basically Meggy put to a logical extreme. In “Splatoon 2″, “Meggy’s Bootcamp”, and “Mario Showdown”, we see that seed of how much Meggy means to her as a rival and how focused she can be when it came to their rivalry, considering her the biggest threat in the Splatfest games. These traits are expanded in “The Splatfest Incident” where she is willing to her pride aside for a moment to help the gang find Meggy when she goes missing. The search for Meggy doesn’t throw away her hot-headedness and pride however, as we see in “The Inkling Disappearances” and “Mario and the Experiment” that she is more than willing to throw down regardless of what stands in her way, even to where she’s making her and Meggy’s escape into a challenge.

More importantly, we get to see a soft side of her where she isn’t fully aloof and tries to be there for her team, or those she come to find as close as she gets. You get to see her bond with someone she wants to fight free and true to form. I say the writers did their job in giving us reason to stand with Desti, make us like her beyond being the Negachin. She’s much the better half to Meggy, the Zero of Megaman X, the being our main inkling girl strives to be in the right way. Now, I wanna talk about Aeris.

Aeris was a very cool character in my eye when playing FFVII. She’s not Tifa but she still had a badass charm to her, especially in the part where she and Cloud go a rescue/date to infiltrate a brothel that held Tifa hostage by helping Cloud disguise as a woman. It slows the game down in a good way, giving us some time to know Aeris. Like Cloud, you get to feel just as attached to her, in both the story and gameplay where she is a boss when it comes to magic. She shows herself as the one that helps Cloud shed his initial machismo and is a very considerate friend while they’re on the journey to escape Midgar. She certainly has more of a character than what most of the images on Google would make you believe. I’d say like with Aeris, the anime arc subtly make you invested in Desti. And like Desti, it happens...

Now I can say, yeah, this shouldn’t make sense. But really, as much sense as I wanted to wrap my brain around why this shouldn’t have happen, this emotionally got me every time. I say what makes this work, what makes Desti’s death worked, comparative to the previous mentioned, is how it worked it’s way both before and after the moment. For Aeris, you can feel the weight of her loss in our main characters in the story and in the gameplay where with her gone, it’s pretty hard to fill the void of what she excelled at. Put that with what we got to see of her which makes the loss all the more shocking. Which makes Cloud avenging her with his final conquering over Sephiroth all the more cathartic. Now I’m not saying Desti’s death had as much intentional thematic development as Aeris’s, but when you take into account how it is structurally, especially the aftermath, the oomph of it all feels just as real, feels respectfully impactful for what it did.

But before I get to my main point, I wanted to address another point against this case where “SMG4 was supposed to just be a comedy like Spongebob and such, this totally goes against that tonally.” Which, I don’t know what else to say beyond “Did we watch the same show?” I can understand not liking the 2nd half of the anime arc writing wise, but it’s not like the arc turned everything into a whole different show all together. We weren’t getting some Heavy Rain type melodrama shit, the tone of the 2nd half was clear, the objectives were there. It wasn’t that heavy-handed, it wasn’t that serious, they didn’t sacrifice the comedy all together for some oscar-bait Gotham brooding bullshit. A dumbass Monkey like myself could understand the direction the bros were going with that arc, regardless of whether I liked it or not. It is pretty myopic to think a series like this can’t and shouldn’t be anything else beyond a skinner box type comedy, because god forbid experimenting with the stories in lieu committing to a considerable routine most of your career to keep a certain mindset happy and buttfucking numb. *sigh* I apologize. To carry on...

I’ve talked about this before, so if you want here’s a link about the funeral scene of the arc’s final episode (quick read), but I wanna say that with Desti’s passing, they treat it with respect. They have their couple of jokes, but they don’t treat it like a joke; Desti's death would’ve been a lot more insulting to me if they didn’t take it as seriously. It showed that yeah, that shit hurt, it was not expected, and we’re with the gang as we see Meggy and them send her off, guns out. We’re with the characters where all that happens and it felt... organic. Like I said before, Desti was “someone who appeared to be distant and feisty but still had a heart. Someone who was among people that [grew to] care about her, in life and death.” Whether we consider it was for shock or not, she made her impact, it hit hard in the end, and they made the moment matter in the respective time.

And like Final Space, this affected the likes of Meggy the most, a character that had the most connection to Desti than the others, all while the others respect her grieving and trauma that came with it. Moments like “Something’s Up With Meggy” and “Mario Does the Chores” show that that stuck with her for real, and they don’t treat like some sick running gag. SMG4 mentions it not long afterward but respectably knew not to dwell on it for the rest of the year until “The Grand Festival” where it comes back as a soft, yet optimistic reminder.

Now I won’t say you can’t have your issue with the arc, I have my issues with it. But to say Desti’s death was crap was to objectively ignore the effort they put into making it a solid plot point, a solid heel turn for both Desti and Meggy. To ignore that they gave us a good character to basically just feel mad that they pulled the rug from under you. And I would’ve been mad too if killing her off was done poorly, but it wasn’t. The bros didn’t make a whole masterpiece, but they did what they set out to do and I say they pulled it off well for what it was. For who Desti was.

#smg4 #desti #smg4 desti #meggy #smg4 meggy #mnky replies #long post #sorry for the rant n bant

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ahostandaghost · 4 years

Note

All for whoever you want

All then :eyes:

☾ - sleep headcanon

Bane:

Sleeps like a rock some nights, too restless to sleep others. This is especially so if he can’t get any physical activity in, in a day. He needs to move a lot during the day to get all that energy out bc well. He’s a very active person

Zsasz:

Has NO trouble getting sleep, but can also choose to not and he’d be fine? He’s kinda alien like that way. He can also survive on 4 hours a night. Lucky bastard

Lonnie:

Can’t sleep without being held once in a relationship. He’s very independent as a person, but like. Hold him

Jason:

Tosses and turns a lot. Talks in his sleep. He snores but not too bad, it’s very soft

Jonnie:

Lots of nightmares, like Jason, and may get up in the middle of the night if he can’t sleep. He’ll get up and start reading or studying, either with coffee or tea. Might bake, so that’s always nice to wake up to

★ - sad headcanon

Bane:

He has a mix of clausterphobia and loving cramped spaces. If he doesn’t think about being trapped, he’s fine. It stems from the years spent in a prison cell as a child, so he can’t think he’s being contained for too long.

Zsasz:

Locked in a closet frequently as a child for misbehaving, isolated too. His parents had a strict idea of what “misbehaving” was. He’s autistic as well so this happened quite a bit. Being alone so much made him put on this act because he had to learn to entertain himself. Never learned to keep some comments to himself also due to isolation.

Lonnie:

Being the Joker’s son is sad enough tbh, but I headcanon that his mom didn’t want him due to him being an unwanted pregnancy and was cruel to him. She doesn’t think her actions are abusive so he ran from home as soon as he was 18.

Jason:

I don’t think any headcanon I have for him can be any more sad than what happened to him in canon I mean christ

Jonnie:

Lost a patient once to suicide and sometimes pays for a bouquet to be sent to their grave when he can’t stop thinking about them

☆ - happy headcanon

Bane:

He loves those huge ass plushies. He likes it when they’re as big as he is. Idk he just likes big things. He’s like those guys who visit the tiny town to be bigger than everything else, except also for things that are as big as he is bc he’s huge

Zsasz:

WILL dance with you in a vaguely “I’m going to kill you” threatening way and laugh after. Won’t kill you, just wants your reaction and to tease. Loves especially doing the dip thing. It’s rly cute and he only does this when he’s feeling really happy

Lonnie:

Hands deep in a Spencer’s button bin and running out, stealing as many as he can. Need I say more

Jason:

He likes being given outfits to wear by someone who knows him well enough to pick out something he’d love. He’s not hard to please, but you gotta get that aesthetic just right. He WILL immediately put it on. If he loves it he will pick you up and spin you like a doll. Especially if it comes with a really nice pair of boots and jacket

Jonnie:

Whip cream nose boop while baking oh I yearn. He likes to have music playing while he bakes. Will sing softly along if he knows the song well enough. If he knows you’re there and he trusts you he won’t stop. He might be a bit embarrassed but he likes the intimacy. It’s a very quiet joy but !!

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

Bane:

Well we all already know he can break just about anything. He’s slow to actually anger, but like. Expect broken bones at least. If he’s angry at someone he cares about, he will either try to talk it out or leave to go workout and then come back when he feels better to resolve whatever happened.

Zsasz:

Even harder to make truly angry. He’s very flat on emotions. He likes to be silly yeah, but he’s just not intensely emotional. If he’s REALLY angry for any reason, he will distract himself. Work or shooting range, researching targets. Whatever it takes to smooth it over inside before facing it

Lonnie:

Maltov cocktail. Arson. Vaguely threatening wall tags along that person’s daily route. Like. He can be a little petty. As a treat.

Jason:

Explosive temper. Not afraid to throw a punch. He doesn’t like to feel disrespected. Especially if that disrespect is towards his partner or prized possessions.

Jonnie:

Self control. Self control. Self control. He may have outbursts if he has to face someone who’s wronged him in the past or recently. Or if he’s triggered by something. But for the most part, very calm !

✿ - Sex headcanon

Bane:

Likes to feel big and strong with his partner, loves to pick them up during. Doesn’t matter how or in what position. Praise him and he will work extra hard to make you cum multiple times. Force orgasm kink, likes his partner loud, stuck kink (either person). So much foreplay you’d think he enjoys the foreplay more than the actual sex. Medium sex drive imo

Zsasz:

The gloves stay on during sex. Knife kink, hostage kink, blood kink, bondage, roleplay, clothed, threatening, hair pulling. Likes to hear how well he’s doing so like. Tell him it feel good. Also public sex. So much. HIGH sex drive if you tease him enough

Lonnie:

Love and threesomes. Very vanilla. a switch but he leans toward bottoming. LOVES being pegged, especially while he’s on his stomach. The heat and weight on his back makes him feel safe and comfortable. Low/medium sex drive

Jason:

Top. Like, power top when it’s casual. If it’s making love or for comfort he will bottom and probably cry a lil. His neck is extra sensitive. Give him a little bite, lick, or suck and he’s immediately ready. Also loves his ear being bitten. Dry humping. Tell him you love him during and he may go from power top to like. Gentle dom. Very weak for emotional reassurance. HIGH sex drive

Jonnie:

He and scarecrow have different kinks. Scarecrow is much more exploring, Jonathan prefers to keep it safe for the most part. Scarecrow’s kinks include costume sex, roleplay, somniphilia, breeding, praise, begging, light bondage. Jonathan’s are dry humping, praise, nipple play, begging, orgasm denial (for himself). Hypersexual due to trauma

■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

Bane:

Immaculate. He hires a cleaning service every once in a while. He likes a clear space because he doesn’t want to feel cluttered

Zsasz:

Also immaculate. Practically sterile. You’d think it’s staged. No he lives there

Lonnie:

He keeps forgetting his drinks everywhere and then getting more. He has taco bell wrappers in his bedroom. He never cleans out his car. He is a mess. Please help him.

Jason:

Like Lonnie, but less. It’s presentable but you can tell cleaning isn’t his #1 priority

Jonnie:

Jonathan cleans, Scarecrow makes a mess. This is how they function lmfao

♡ - romantic headcanon

Bane:

BIG romantic. Softy to his partner(s). Wants to buy them nice outfits and take them out on dates. Tries to keep the love young and happy.

Zsasz:

Not naturally romantic. For him, the romance is in the hands. Leading you places, kissing your hand, interlocking fingers, kissing fingertips. Wow that’s cute I’m gay

Lonnie:

Young love. He’s a bit misguided at times. Probably sensitive. BUT also a very soft lover, wants you to rest your head on his chest while you both lie on the couch. Tries really hard to make you laugh, it’s his favourite thing

Jason:

Handholding while driving, not needing to talk but he’ll say something goofy and stupid to make you smile and call him dumb. The kind of guy that texts you asking where you are and telling you how much he loves and misses you while drunk, while you’re in the same room as him clearly visible lmfao

Jonnie:

Old love, wants a life partner if he falls in love. He’s all in when he gets there, he doesn’t want to go life without and he almost never has romantic feelings. When he does he wants it to stay

♥ - family headcanon

Bane:

Doesn’t care, his family isn’t apart of his life so it’s not worth thinking about

Zsasz:

Hates his parents, but doesn’t kill them. He doesn’t think they’re worth it if he’s not getting paid

Lonnie:

Loves his mom even if she was cruel to him, but he ignores the letters she sends

Jason:

Love-hate with Batman. Will go to family dinners on holidays, but may make comments that he knows would make everyone argue while smiling at Bruce. It was on purpose

Jonnie:

Reconnects with his mom. Not completely, but he does feel bad for the incident and sees how he wasn’t showing self control at all. Sends her money and helps his half sister go into a good school. He talks to her more regularly than his mother, just checking in to see she has everything she needs

☮ - friendship headcanon

Bane:

Honestly, such a good friend. He will genuinely support you. He will join a social media just to give whatever project you’re working on a social boost. I mean, he’s BANE. He WILL help make your project amazing

Zsasz:

He’s distant but hilarious. You never fully know what’s going on with him, but that’s alright. You don’t think you want to just in case he goes on trial again

Lonnie:

“Have you heard of Karl Marx, the manifesto?”

Jason:

Dramatic friend, but he will side hug you and pat your back. Asks who pissed in your cereal that morning if you give him attitude

Jonnie:

Free therapy ! JK Halloween buds most like. He reaches out on Halloween and asks if you’d like to cause a ruckus with him

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Bane:

Weightlifting, tactician study (bombs, weapons)

Zsasz:

Gun range, knife throwing. I think he’d like doing an ax throwing competition.

Lonnie:

Tries to make other people see his ACAB point of view. He’s very successful c: Joins protests and leads riots where necessary. He is white so I see him taking the front in initiative. Rock climbing

Jason:

Gun maintenance, motorcycle rides through the outskirts of Gotham, cardio and gymnastics training

Jonnie:

Designing new scarecrow outfits, sewing, baking, reading in the morning outside

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

Bane:

Spicy foods. I feel like he’d have a soft spot for elephants. Fave colour is green imo. Wants to pull a tree out of the ground in front of people all the time to freak them out, but respects the planet too much. Doesn’t like cold food all that much

Zsasz:

He unironically loves parody songs and ones that are like.............. silly covers. Fave colour is anything funky. He prefers take out.

Lonnie:

His fave colour is red, he likes more mild, savory foods, neon signs and the city at night when it’s quiet

Jason:

Bar hopping, lying in the grass after because he’s too drunk to keep walking. Staring at the stars. Oversharing. Fave colour is red.

Jonnie:

Sweets, carnivals, small plush dolls, nail polish. Fave colour is orange. Loves abandoned buildings

▼ - childhood headcanon

Bane:

Used to read the dictionary to be well-spoken. Sometimes he uses that to annoy people

Zsasz:

Had the tendency to light stuff on fire. Forced himself to learn to be okay looking into people’s eyes to avoid punishment

Lonnie:

Grew up poor and had bad shoes and a backpack full of holes. He’s very thankful for all that he has now

Jason:

Lil pickpocket even as a Robin

Jonnie:

Had comfort items and if he felt they may be taken away by his grandmother he would his them in the walls

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon

Bane:

Hates it because he knows he’s on the decline in strength. He also knows his body can’t handle venom anymore

Zsasz:

Graceful about it. Still killing for money let’s be real. Probably helps Anarky take out political figures to make him feel better

Lonnie:

Frustrated because there is much more to be done in the world to help others and he’s not as physically capable to fight

Jason:

Loves being a silver fox, he feels kinda sexy

Jonnie:

Afraid of the time now missing from his life, but accepting that this is life

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Bane:

He likes to make traditional Mexican food. Specifically searching for recipes that are authentic

Zsasz:

He doesn’t usually cook, but when he does it’s cooked in wine and super healthy surprisingly

Lonnie:

Frozen foods lmfao

Jason:

Burger. Sanwhich. Ingredients............. beetroot

Jonnie:

THE cook of the polycule tbh. His cooking is amazing and he almost always gets it perfect. What a gift to us all

☼ - appearance headcanon

Bane:

Mostly cares about his hair, has a lot of product to keep it looking nice c: He’s very fuzzy, but if he has the time he will have his bodyhair waxed

Zsasz:

Dresses up because the clothes make the man and he wants to look classy af. Always wearing gloves.

Lonnie:

Hoodie man........... hides in baggy clothes, it’s just more comfortable that way.

Jason:

Military aesthetic with leather jackets and boots is his regular, but sometimes if he has no time it’s just a tank top and black jeans

Jonnie:

Only really cares about shaving and dressing nice. Scarecrow very specifically prefers having red hair so he will dye it as needed

ൠ - random headcanon

Bane:

Insanely good at puzzle games, do not hope to beat him at scrabble. Challenge at own risk

Zsasz:

Autistic, wears gloves because he doesn’t like skin contact unless it’s on his terms. Especially likes those half gloves that don’t cover your wrist

Lonnie:

Autistic transman ! Very aware of the flawed social structure due to experiences dealing with this

Jason:

He got a booty that won’t quit due to all of his cardio

Jonnie:

Takes painkillers sometimes for switch headaches, both Scarecrow and Jonathan get mad at eachother for it when it’s especially rough

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sick-raven · 4 years

Text

Ghosts of the Present - Chapter 2

Chapter 1 + warnings

AO3

Previous chapter

Chapter 2

Miranda sat at the table, head in her hands. Jonathan across her thought through what she just told him. Silently sipping coffee, he figured the best approach to this will be an interrogation.

“You were part of the League of assassins.”

“Yeah.”

“And you thought it was a good idea to move to Gotham.”

“I didn’t know he came here so often!”

“He does. From time to time Ra’s makes a mess in this city,” agreed Jonathan. “How did that slip you?”

“I guess I didn’t ask right questions,” sighed Miranda in capitulation. She kept tucking on the charm as if she was ready to tear it down and let the ghosts kill her. Empty unfocused gaze showed she is also thinking hard. Is she considering running away? Jonathan knew this bond of theirs were just words. She left her life behind before, why would he be any different?

“You cannot do this, Jonathan,” she surprised him instead of running, “you cannot work for the Demon’s head!”

“Didn’t you say he doesn’t know you?” Jonathan ignored her request on purpose. Even Miranda can’t boss him around. This wasn’t his first job for Ra’s. Most of them were small, drug selling or making correct people crazy. Ra’s was always fair. Now, Jonathan didn’t trust him, however, he didn’t have reason to expect this job will go sideways. When Ra’s promised something, he delivered. Loyalty was more valuable to him than money or whatever else he offered.

“No general knows all his foot soldiers. He is the Demon’s head! I worked under the captain so to say. In completely different part of the world. I’ve seen Ra’s al Ghul once as a kid. Master Khulan wanted us to see him, so we know who we die for.”

“Why worry then?”

“Are you for real?” Miranda grimaced disgusted. “They are the League! If you are not careful… If… Aagh! One wrong step and I am dead!”

Jonathan bit his tongue so he doesn’t say something that would send her to rage. He didn’t need that now. Angry Miranda would be able to book a ticket and fly to Europe without second thought.

“You are supposed to be dead for a decade, Miranda. Just don’t cross their way and you will be okay.”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “If they realize, I am as good as dead. And they may not stop there. You would be in danger too. Please, Jonathan, the work can’t be that important.”

“You know science is always the most important thing,” he replied in calm voice. “And I cannot cancel now, that would be the real death sentence.”

Miranda grumbled in frustration. “Fine, I am not helping you with this.”

“I can accept that.”

“And remember one thing,” her eyes finally focused on him, “if it comes to decision between you and me, I am choosing myself. You got yourself into this, I am not dying.”

Jonathan laughed silently. “Miranda, that’s obvious.”

“What!?”

He rested his head on his palm. The expression on her face was joyous. They might have built something, he might have liked her… loved her even… but that was it. He wouldn’t sabotage himself for her. Not again, not after the last fiasco. Jonathan decided he will not go outside his plans. Control was important, he cannot lose that. No holding city hostage again.

“People don’t do that,” he explained slowly. “They do not sacrifice themselves for the others. They might say so, but when faced with the possibility, everyone will always pick themselves. Noble sacrifices are book fantasy, made up so people can feel good about their fake morals.”

That shut her up. She silently watched him, anger slowly disappearing from her face. Then she nodded. “Fine. I am glad we understand each other.”

The situation wasn’t fixed. Miranda still looked around nervously and tucked the bell. It dinged silently. It was funny, Jonathan has read about these charms some time ago. Apparently, silver bells were new age thing that pregnant women wore to be on the same wavelength with their child. Did Miranda know her anti-ghost pendant has different purpose for general population?

“What are you doing for them anyways?” Miranda interrupted his train of thoughts.

“You said you don’t want it.”

“I don’t. I want to know what made you jump after it like a horny teenager at a sex doll.”

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t even think about the offer. What did he promise, tell me?”

Why the hell did he ever started dating someone whose metaphors always revolved around sex? And her vocabulary consisted of seventy percent of swear words? Charming, Miranda, really.

“Here,” he handed her the envelope.

There! That was it! Miranda’s behaviour may be rude, but when she thinks, her face makes this expression and that’s what he enjoyed. She read through the task, frowning a bit. Finding new things, and realization connected to exploring was Jonathan’s life, he loved to learn and think. That’s what he looked for and Miranda was opened to learning. Maybe not at the moment, but other times, she took his suggestions and she talked with him about things she hardly understood and tried to grasp at them. That’s what he liked about her, she could catch up with him. Now only if her taste in books got better.

“Let me get this straight,” Miranda put down the paper after few minutes. Jonathan was curious what did she figure out. “They want you to mix some chemicals from plants they imported.”

“Correct.”

“I know them. They are used to drug their soldiers to not fear death. Kinda breaks your modus operandi.”

“It’s a job. I will not use it, they will.”

Miranda nodded. “I expect they want Ivy to fasten the speed of growth.”

“That’s what I figured,” agreed Jonathan.

“Who were the people at the Legion? Nygma I know.”

“Waylon Jones, or also known as Killer Croc, and Jervis Tetch. That one is a madman with good hypnotic skills. The last lady I don’t know, but I have my suspicion.”

Miranda bit her lip thinking. Jonathan smiled.

“What is Croc anyways?”

“He was born with rare skin disease. Years of ridicule made him succumb to this nature. More years of Arkham experiments made him… worse. He lives under the city.”

“So, he knows sewers.”

“Yes.”

“And Nygma? What is he good for in his mess?”

“What is flamboyant idiot who can’t keep himself hidden to save his life good for?”

Miranda grinned. “He’s a Bat bait.”

“Most certainly,” agreed Jonathan.

“And hypnotist… drugs, hypnosis… What are they doing?” mumbled Miranda to herself.

“That’s the point…”

“…foot soldiers don’t need to know what generals want,” she finished for him. “Yes, I know this strategy. I lived it. But I still don’t get one thing. The reward. You want these new plants to test on, that’s clear. And then there is this,” she pointed at the paper. “What’s the bottle?”

Jonathan laughed in surprise. “You’ve been in the League and you don’t know?”

“Don’t patronize me and explain,” she snapped.

“Sorry,” he backed off. “It’s bottle of water from the Lazarus pit.”

Miranda’s face turned white in surprise. Eyes wide, mouth open. “What!?”

“The Lazarus pit is…”

“I know! It keeps the Demon’s head alive for centuries. He just hands it out!? And how do Gotham rogues know about this?” she raised her voice. This information made her nervous. Jonathan had the same inner reaction when he read about the reward. The possibilities! But also, the danger. Lazarus pit had shadow of evil hoovering over it. Worse evil, than even most of the rogues accepted. Yet… having something this powerful…

“It’s well known in Gotham that the Lazarus pit exists,” Jonathan explained. “Few years back Joker killed one of Bat’s boy wonders. Nasty stuff, it shook bones of all of us. We all wish them dead, but not like this.” Miranda watched him in silence, listening carefully. It reminded him times when he taught at university. He loved the job. The curious looks of students, questions he could answer. He wished to go back. Unfortunately, there is no going back. They never understood his approach.

“Bat has heard about the Lazarus pit, so you can imagine what he did. He found it and tossed the dead body in. Who can blame him? But it was long after the body died. Way too long. The boy came back… different. Wrong. Him and Bat never made up. The boy almost killed Joker if his saviour didn’t stop him.”

“Bat did that?” Miranda said unsure.

“That’s what they say. Truth will be somewhere in between, only he knows. But the word spread. That’s how people know about the pit.”

Miranda shook her head. “That’s insane. This whole situation is insane.”

“You understand that getting my hands on the water is incredible opportunity. I can’t begin to imagine what could be done with it.”

Miranda smirked. “Yeah. I get it,” she replied annoyed.

Jonathan sighed. He didn’t expect she will calm down, but he hoped. Not everyone can keep his level of stoic. If it was about his past, he would probably freak out too. Thankfully, he got rid of any danger from that long ago. He walked behind Miranda’s chair and put his hands on her shoulders. Stiff.

“I am sure you will not get in danger,” he said massaging her. “You are clever.”

She relaxed a bit. “I will lay low for a while,” she agreed.

“That’s going to be for the best.”

“Are you sure it’s not a trick? That they won’t kill you after they are done with you?”

“You can never be sure in Gotham.”

“I guess.”

He leaned to her and kissed her neck. “Now, are you staying or are you moving to Europe?”

Miranda laughed sincerely. “I don’t know. Convince me?”

Jonathan grinned. “Convince you, hm? Let me think.” He ran his fingers on her neck and through her hair. She purred like a cat when he touched her collar bone. Her clothing became more relaxed after ghosts went. She stopped being afraid to show her skin and the charm. Goodbye to turtleneck, hello to free neckline. He appreciated this small change.

“I think I got it,” he said after kissing her cheek and neck. He slid his hands lower, now massaging her breasts. “You will get dressed up,” he whispered, “and we will go together to the bookstore. My treat.”

“Ah, damn you, Jonathan,” Miranda smiled. “You are a devil. Let’s go!”

“Yes, I am. Don’t worry, I will collect my debts.”

“Whatever you want, professor.”

Next chapter

#batman #fanfiction #jonathan crane #writing #writeblr #ghosts of the present #sick raven writing #get yourself a so that will buy you books

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ilovehighhats · 5 years

Text

Reticulum, ch. 01

I’ve been sitting on this way too long...

John Brown wasn’t always John Brown.

For instance, he was born Ricardo Sanchez. Not too daunting a name. So, when he used to be a CIA operative he worked under several aliases: Tim Perkins, Paul Schwartz, Karim Sayif.

He considered himself a patriot. That’s why after Joker’s attacks on Gotham he felt the need to do more. Being one of the dozens of unimportant agents, stationed in an unimportant country, tracking as it ultimately turned out insignificant people… That wasn’t enough. He wanted to be someone who could do things really ensuring the safety of his compatriots - both domestic and abroad.

This is how he ended in DHS. The Department of Homeland Security, still shiny and new and building up its ranks. Brown fit right in, with other idealistic hotheads and solemn gruff men.

Bane’s siege of Gotham was the event that shook him to his core again. All those unimportant people he used to trace, suddenly were way more threatening than he could ever imagine. Led by one of the goons who, back in his CIA days, seemed trivial and inferior. Who names himself Bane? Is every third-country warlord or a mercenary worth the hassle of a laborious operation prepared to infiltrate his organisation? When there are coups, civil wars, genocides and other atrocities, all around?

James used to think of those people as lesser men. He read an account once, of a woman kidnapped, abused, tortured until she didn’t even resent her abductor and it only solidified this conclusion. Animals. There were exceptions, there were reasons and explanations, but ultimately he didn’t care. Not unless they were big names with prospects of big promotion attached to their file.

Bane was one of those unimportant meagre mercenaries to him.

That is, until League of shadows, under his command, invaded his country.

He found all the faults and flaws of his understanding of the importance of marked targets. He learned how dangerous a mass of anonymous savages could be when led by a madman. The worst part was, he encountered Bane before and thought him ridiculous and inconsequential.

He was there for his colleagues whining over a witness who apparently suffered a bad case of Stockholm Syndrome. But neither them, nor their superiors felt the need to waste their time and resources on some hired gun working in forgotten parts of the world. After all, there were coups, civil wars, genocides and other atrocities to be taken care of...

But then the forgotten came to their home and mangled its shiny city. Gotham was in ruins. Saved in the last minute by a vigilante, no less. The animals who Brown hunted down held the entire nation hostage and the government danced to their tune, scorned and shamed by the world. Their president, a figure of contempt between the leaders, thrust down from his pedestal of the leader of a free world.

Some leader, with a foreign terrorist cell right in the middle of his lands, occupying a city, gambling with millions of lives. For months. To all those atrocities that were happening beyond blown up bridges, the country sends only one group of operatives. And they were unsuccessful, their lifeless bodies hanging for all to see, displayed as yet another mockery, right in their face.

Batman’s rescue of Gotham was a fluke. Brown promised to himself he would never let a criminal seem too unimportant to catch.

And he’d start his penance with making sure his biggest mistake was really dead and buried.

oOo

There was no body.

Brown read through all of the reports on Bane and his activities during the siege. The last day he has seen people reported him fighting the police and Batman, an old-fashioned brawl on the steps of City Hall. Stupid. Bane was not a stupid animal, he was cunning, so why did he go along with that pitiful last stand of Gotham's finest? Why did he lose control of his city? Where did he go?

There weren’t many leads in his investigation, most of them have been thoroughly followed by his predecessors who took Bane more seriously. Like Bill. Until recently no one knew that Bane was the one responsible for Bill Wilson's death, that he orchestrated the crash of the plane in Uzbekistan, he faked Pavel’s death. The mercenary must have known of Wilson's obsession with him, and he used it to his advantage, killing two birds with one stone. Now, Brown was left with boxes of information that was carefully and systematically checked.

There was one nugget of possibility left, though.

The scribe, the one who was abducted by Bane and then left in a hospital in Armenian countryside. A very unusual thing to do for any kidnapper, and especially for someone as meticulous and organised as Bane. Brown read her files over and over again, and he saw all the blunders his fellow agents did. How they let her lie blatantly to their faces. How they misplaced tapes and left him only with copies of transcripts, old and faded. How they left big unanswered holes in her testimony. How no one followed up on the facts, she did provide.

He used up his vacation days to visit the hospital and the doctor who treated her. He found the monastery.

No leads were left there.

The doctor wasn’t eager to cooperate, and Brown did not have any means of making him talk. The monastery was inhabited by monks, and they didn’t let him walk around and check the rooms he read about.

This was a wild goose chase. The only foothold he had was the scribe. So he went to talk with the woman herself.

Norway was beautiful. He fell in love with deep sky over his head, the rolling clouds and tempestuous see in harmony even though they were ever changing. It was damn expensive though, and he wondered how a scribe could afford a stated of the art house out in the country, in what looked like a very prosperous place. Granted, the cottage wasn’t very big, but it was very obviously new and packed with all amenities, and to top it off designed by someone minimalistic and practical.

In other words, it must have cost a fortune, and not a small one.

He parked his car way down and had a nice stroll first on the tarmac road, and then up some steps. Broad wooden planks were first, then the path wound down to flat stones, and the entryway was hidden between a wall of natural rock and the glass panel of the house itself. Hidden from view, secluded and cosy.

He knocked and heard a faint woman's voice reply,

“Come in!”

The door opened easily, and he tentatively peeked inside.

“Mrs Wolf?”

There was a murmur of fabric somewhere to his left, and he stepped in to get a better look. His host was in bed, weirdly raised way above the level of the house, clearly waiting for someone else than him.

Awkward.

She had a coughing fit which let Brown look around the house undisturbed. It looked like she was alone.

“Who are you?” She wheezed out eventually. “I was actually waiting for a friend to pick me up, I don't have much time before my visit to the doctors.”

“I see. My name is Brown. I'm with Homeland Security.“ He tried to be as pleasant as possible. This was his only lead.

The woman scoffed.

“Homeland,“ she practically spat. “Wouldn’t it be easier to understand if you said you’re with US Government?”

“Perhaps,” he said to placate her. He read the reports by other agencies and knew that she could be openly hostile. “I was wondering if we could have a talk. When you get better, of course.”

“Concerning what?”

“Bane.”

He observed as her face solidified into a stagnant mask. Was this trauma of the abduction, or was she hiding something else?

“Why would you want to talk with me about a dead man?”

“A missing man,” he corrected.

“Why would you want to talk with me about a missing man then?”

This was too much to be just a reflexive reaction to having her peace disturbed. She was hiding something. She knew something.

“I think you are a person he might want to contact.” The try was a gamble. It was true, and he did think that Bane could contact her, however, he left his cards too exposed if she was a seasoned liar and manipulator.

“He didn't through last ten years. I'll let you know if he changes his mind. Leave a card on the stairs please.” The dismissal was plain to see.

He wanted to try one more time to placate her. He could work the information out.

But then the door at the front of the cottage opened, glass panels sliding without effort, and in came a tall man. Like he was at home here.

“Helena,“ he greeted the host but kept his eyes firmly on Brown.

He came through the terrace. Thick scarf peeked out from a navy blue jacket, jeans were tucked in big brown boots, messenger bag hanging off one shoulder. He looked harmless enough, especially when he moved, wobbling carefully closer, the pain of every step visible in a rigid way he held himself.

But there was something off. His eyes were too sharp. Too familiar.

“We should go soon,“ he said. Nodded at Brown. “Tony Dorrance.“

“John Brown.”

Neither offered a hand to shake, but they kept observing each other.

What was it about this guy?

“You better go,” Dorrance said. His voice had an edge to it, a glimmer of certainty and command that was not meshing well with the image of a tired scholar.

The woman had another coughing fit, so Brown just nodded and left.

He would try to contact the woman again, and until then he will be mulling over that man. Who was he exactly?

oOo

Anthony Dorrance was an interesting man.

He was the person Helena Wolf talked about when she rambled on to him about her precious friend left to die in Gotham. Did she really believe what she said? Was she delusional?

Did Dorrance was such masterful manipulator he could pretend to be two people at the same time?

Brown started the work on him the usual way. Databases had the most rudimentary info; DOB, education, some jobs, some things he wrote. But it got interesting when he got to the pictures. The scars hinted at life way more interesting than the one portrayed in his files.

So he started working the man backwards.

He was in Norway for only a few weeks. Arrived with a plane from London. Both cottages were his, acquired a few years prior, so that wasn't suspicious in the least. What was, however, was how he got them. It turned out that the guy was not only a talented physicist but also a historian. Dealing with antiquities; old books and manuscripts mostly.

Suspicious.

Brown tried to trace his moves before London, and there he struck gold. The guy appeared in Azores two months after Gotham. But prior to that? A big black mysterious hole. He was in Gotham until May the previous year, but there was no movement in the months leading to the occupation of the city.

Was he there?

His name was on the list of suspected victims, struck down when he reported back to the British consulate on San Miguel.

How did he get from a besieged city to an archipelago in the middle of the Atlantic? And no less than five weeks after the occupation was thwarted? Why? Why didn’t he report to the authorities in the USA? Why wasn’t there any mentions of him crossing the border before the Azores?

Very suspicious.

Brown tracked Dorrance’s history backwards all the way down to his birth, but it didn’t yield much good.

He turned back to the Gotham episode. He turned up the photos and compared.

Did his eyes resemble Bane’s?

oOo

Much to Brown’s dismay, the forensic facial comparison was a flop.

Bane’s face was hidden by the mask the only visible parts were his eyes and two lines extending over them up to the middle of his head. Not nearly enough for any comparison.

But his gut told him he was onto something.

He decided to approach this problem differently. He had a plethora of Bane’s pictures, so he gathered all the ones of Dorrance too and tried to see if there were any similarities. He found some, but not many. The slope of his shoulders, perhaps. His pointed stare, and the colour of his eyes.

Even to himself, all of that sounded pathetic.

Once, in the middle of the night working an entirely different case, he remembered a detail. Gotham’s police commissioner had a run in with Bane, just before the siege.

Brown went to interview Gordon, which turned out to be a bizarre experience.

“So you're saying kid, that he isn't dead?”

“He is presumed dead, and I would like to make sure of it. There was no body.”

“Yeah, like with Batman.”

“Exactly. Do you remember anything that could help identify him?”

Gordon scoffed, looking over the city. He invited Brown to the roof, which seemed odd at first. Even more so when the agent noticed brand new Bat-Signal waiting in the corner, the lamp pointed upwards, ready to call in a hero.

But he was dead. Wasn’t he?

“So many people focused on his bulk… I see what you're doing here, kid. You have good instincts.” The commissioner shook his head, trying to grasp faint wisps of recollection.

“Let me walk through what happened there. I went in pursuit down to the sewers. Two guys with me. Some idiot started shooting, and I don't know what blew up, but there was a big explosion. I was overwhelmed and got a nice hit to the head. If I were younger by twenty years then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Well, they dragged me down the tunnels and brought to Bane.”

He stopped and frowned deeply.

“He was crouching, shirtless. There was a scar running the length of his spine, a nasty, ropey thing. No marks on his chest, as far as I could see. Some burns on his shoulders, but old and faded. I didn't get a long look at him, I was pretending to be dizzy. But what I remember the most is how enormous he seemed. Raw and brutal power radiating off him. Later, when I watched him on the television, he was still formidable, but I can't shake this dread that I felt then. Because he was terrifying even when relaxed.”

This was pure gold.

“Thank you. Thank you so much for sharing that with me.”

“You don’t think he’s dead, kid, do you?”

“I don't. There is a lead. A woman he might have wanted to contact.”

“What woman would be with a monster like that?”

“Maybe she’s a monster too.”

“Maybe.”

oOo

Armed with information from Gordon, Brown started working on Dorrance full time. He screened all of his accounts, all of his books, everything he could find on the man.

He was squeaky clean. Too clean to be genuine.

The fervour of righteousness burned in his chest, the elation propelling him forward.

His work suffered, but Brown was sure that finding Bane was imperative. Proving that Dorrance was him. That the terrorist who planned to kill millions with a bomb was alive and living peacefully, while all those families of thousands of his victims despaired.

And then he got a visit that stoked his conviction even more, that motivated him to try harder still.

He was looking at pictures of Dorrance, the scientist caught unawares shopping and walking around town. The last of the work Brown managed to squeeze while he still was in Norway.

Then someone brought a bag over his head and bound his wrist behind the chair. So fast he barely could comprehend what happened before he was panting quickly into the rough fabric scratching his nose. He couldn't see a thing but felt a presence shift beside him.

“You are investigating Bane,” the person said. It was a man, and he had some weird piece of tech that made his voice unrecognisable. Growling lowly, threateningly.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Batman,” the man said.

“Batman is dead.”

“As is Bane.”

“I have evidence that he may be alive.”

“I saw him die.”

“Did you check his body?”

“He was struck by a rocket, straight in the chest, then propelled ten feet away with a blast. He can’t be alive.”

“How are you not dead then?”

“A trick.”

“Are you the only person in the world capable of such tricks?”

There was no answer. He struggled against his bounds and found out that the knots were loosely tied. On purpose.

When he took the bag away, he was once again alone in the room.

Some of Bane’s pictures were missing.

oOo

The second visit to Norway was official. Brown showed his findings to his bosses and implored. He just needed to check. To make sure. What if it turned out that this guy was somehow connected to Bane? He didn’t tell them outright he thought Dorrance was the masked man, he had enough clarity of mind not to sabotage himself this way. But he plotted and schemed. The proof that tipped the scale was Dorrance’s scientific work.

Brown convinced his people that is was all coded messages to terrorists.

The antiquities were an obvious giveaway of laundering money too.

But before the bureaucratic machine was moved into action, he wondered whether to give Mrs Wolf one last chance at redemption.

#Fanwork: Fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #Bane(Dcu)#bane (dcu)#bane dcu #bane #original female character #original characters #reticulum #thescientist

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bioticgoddess · 6 years

Text

Songbirds and Baby Bats (VIII)

Series Summary: Jason Todd returns from the dead and, after the events of Under the Red Hood,he goes from Gotham to Bludhaven in search of himself…and an old friend. But getting your life back is never easy and Black Mask has enlisted the aid of Gotham’s other Crime Families as well as a few ghosts of Batman’s past. He’s coming for the Red Hood and everyone of his allies.

Part VIII

Ice water drenched the pair. Both Nightwing and Wren yelped in unison at the shocking frigity that brought them back to consciousness. It was Nightwing who growled at their captors first, when he realized he was shackled to the wall. Unable to move more than a few inches in any direction. “Well this is shit. Thanks for the invite there Slade,” he narrowed his blue eyes at the older man.

The black and orange clad assassin grinned under his mask, “Heh. You can blame that new friend of yours for this. It’s all his fault.” He meant Jason – the Red Hood – and they both knew it. It wasn’t wrong. His actions in Gotham had led Black Mask to band together with Gotham’s most affluent mob bosses. Had been the catalyst for the attacks on the trio thus far. Not wrong but absolutely not fair to blame everything on Red Hood. After all, Wren and Nightwing had done their fair share of damage to the three mob bosses smuggling businesses.

The pair had stolen or destroyed shipments of drugs and illegal chemicals, sent weapons and people smuggled in to the country to the authorities, and basically made life extremely difficult for organized crime in Bludhaven. What were several dozen raids and ruined illicit deals between denizens of the night.

Swinging a leg out in an effort to catch either of their captors unaware, Wren lashed out, “Basterds!”

“Oh lovely, the children have woken,” it was Dustan, his hand catching the girl’s leg around the ankle. “Good morning.” No more face mask. They could see his features plainly, a sickeningly sweet smile curled across his lips going practically ear to ear. His grip may have been delicate but they knew something was off in his demeanor – like a hunting dog before crushing its prey’s throat. He squeezed Wren’s ankle gently at first, increasing the pressure applied over time, it was apparent to all of them he was testing her pain threshold.

Wren gave him nothing. Clenching her jaw and narrowing her eyes at him behind her domino mask. At least she and Nightwing had been left with those. She could see his as clearly as she felt her own against her brow ridge. Releasing her leg, Dustan sighed petulantly, “You’re no fun.” Then that grin widened, “Yet.”

He turned balletically, flashing an unpleasantly toothy grin at the duo and confidently strutted out of the room. Dustan set off all of the alarm bells for both Nightwing and Wren. His kill record aside, talking with him made the pair palpably nervous. “Don’t you two go anywhere,” Deathstroke instructed, the irony not lost on either of the manacled vigilantes as he followed the unsettling youth. Only when the door closed heavily did either Nightwing or Wren release the breath they’d both been holding.

“Any ideas,” he asked after counting to ten silently. He could she her utility belt had been taken as well as his, the familiar weight gone from his hips. It was likely they’d been searched, which meant that all of their tools and toys were gone. “Maybe a bobby…” he trailed off, realizing Wren’s hair was hanging lose. They’d even gone to lengths of undoing her hair and removing the clips and pins that held baby and shorter hairs in place.

Wren cocked a brow at him and glared side long before redirecting her gaze to the door, “What do you think? And the Hood.” There were no windows in the door and what windows were in the room had been covered with spray paint and cheap adhesive blinds. What light they had, came from a children’s night light in the far corner of the room relative to the wall they were both manacled to.

“That’s not a plan, that’s a calamity,” Nightwing groaned, rolling his eyes and hanging his head. Once he knew they were missing, Jason was going to come in armed to the teeth. Probably well enough to take out a third-world dictator. Or three.

Jason had been too late and now Dustan and Deathstroke had Dick and Amy. Even torching Dustan’s vacant hideout wouldn’t have made him feel better. Not like he’d be inconveniencing the man, and the knot in the pit of his stomach told him it would probably come back on Dick and Amy so long as they were captives. “If anything happens to them,” he growled, not that anyone was around to hear the cautionary threat. A low grow caught in his throat as he carefully replaced the locks of hair in the envelop and stuffed it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

He had work to do. Those two were counting on him.

His stomach turned as he stomped back down the stairs towards his bike in the alley outside. The engine growled softly at him when he turned the key. His mind racing as he kicked the vehicle into gear and tore down the road. Weaving in and out of traffic, he was reminded how much smaller Bludhaven’s footprint was compared to that of Gotham. Everything about the city was that way, more claustrophobic than the city of his birth. It meant, if nothing else, a smaller search area.

Far as he knew, however, Jason was racing against time to find the others. But there was nothing he could do without help, he knew it. Hell, this whole case had forced him to rely on the others in ways he didn’t really want to.

He hadn’t wanted to be a part of the Bat-family again, not yet. But he had. The minute he chose to find his brother and Amy that night weeks, months, earlier, he’d been brought back into the fold. When Nightwing, Dick, had continued to drop in and provide mission support – and their investigations became linked – he was still treated like a member of the family. It even seemed to him that when he’d tried to bully Bruce into killing Joker that he’d still been part of their dysfunctional clan. Elsewise Dick would likely have done everything in his power to turn him into law enforcement. That Jason would never have been left alone with Amy after his arrival in Bludhaven.

Swallowing, leaning the bike as he rounded a corner onto the freeway, he realized just how concerned he was about her safety. The fear and worry over Amy’s safety made his stomach turn. “I’ll find you,” he breathed. That, as he righted his bike, was when it hit him: Barbara would have the best chance of helping him find any way to easily track down the other two.

Another turn, he leaned the bike in the opposite direction. His mind turned too. He knew the League as well as Batman. Knew the kinds of things their agents were capable of doing to hostages. Tracing the threads if what he knew helped keep him from tracing those of what he feared.

The vault of a parking structure came into view, it served as one of half a dozen caches and parking locations for the trio. Once within its range, the door reacted to the remote entry switch near the bike’s ignition. Rolling in under the corrugated steel door, he pulled off his helmet the moment the bike came to a stop. He barely had the kickstand down before hopping off of it. When the kickstand caught, it rocked slightly, giving a cadence to his anxiety that Jason hadn’t expected. He jumped, a shudder going down his spine. Hand wrapping around the door knob before him, his hair stood on up like a bunch of straight pins.

A second later, his helmet was back on and side-arm drawn.

Clicking the safety off he slowly pushed the door open. There were three flights of stairs between the garage and an upstairs studio. It wasn’t Dick’s home base but it did allow them some privacy when needed. His foot falls were silent – even on the tile and concrete floors of the garage and hallways. Short of being seen, if there was someone in the garage and pseudo-safe house they’d never see him coming.

Meticulously he cleared the first of the three floored building. What would have been a lobby or front office was vacant, doors still barred against the outside world, windows boarded up. That was a check in his favor. He sighed, slipping into the office itself. A few taps on the keyboard and the surveillance camera feeds popped up on the old monitor. Thanks again to Barbara for setting up that system too. They absolutely owed her for all of their technical setups.

The camera feeds gave showed that everything was clear, no one else was in the building. Didn’t mean he’d be any less quiet, practically tip toeing out of the office, as he checked the other two floors. The second floor of the building held a few cots and one and half bathrooms. All clear – just as the cameras below had told him. Save for a few pictures taken over the years of the Bat-family (all in their respective kits of course) and some newspaper clippings, the décor worked in his favor. Partially sound proof materials and muted neutral tones were fantastic in a hide out.

Tentative steps sent him up the stairs to the third floor studio and roof access. His preferred exit from the building truth be told. Deep breaths, one at a time, long and slow. Nothing but a spare set of clothes for Dick and some over-the-counter medications in the upstairs rooms. Where the emptiness of the little garage would have been comforting under normal circumstances, it was unsettling now. An ominous premonition of what he was going to find at the apartment.

The wind tore the rooftop door out of his grip, slamming it unceremoniously against the roof access’s wall. “Well, so much for surprise,” he grumbled, walking out and into the open. The telemetry on his helmet echoing what he saw: no one. He was alone, unpleasantly and depressingly alone. The hope had been there that when he exited onto the roof he’d have the opportunity to fight either of the two League members. A hope that was dashed almost instantly. Only the HVAC units and roof vents greeted him on the asphalt.

“Okay Jason, think about it for a minute,” he started on the math; securing the pistol in its holster he crossed the roof. Continuously scanning it he walked through the problem further, “I have an envelope, a 3x5 card, and locks of hair that look like Amy’s and Dick’s. Okay, so what’s traceable - the papers and maybe the ink. Okay, what else Jason.” He paced the edge of the roof, fishing out his grappling gun. There had to be something else, something more expedient for tracking down his friends. Had to be an easier way to deal with the situation than he was seeing.

The wire and hook pulled him up into the night.

Absentmindedly his eyes followed an ambulance. No lights flashing, just running the track back from wherever it had been to on its last call. It stopped at lights, took turns carefully, there was nothing urgent about the way it moved. None of it’s gear brought any attention to it now.

That’s when it hit him, as his boots slammed into the steep supports of a crane. The vantage gave him a different view of the city and it was where the solution to his problem smacked him in the face like freight train. “Their comm devices, Jesus, Jason you’re an idiot,” He chastised himself.

Barbara had built and programmed the devices that Amy and Dick - and now Jason - used in Bludhaven. Assuming they hadn’t been destroyed, he could use those. With her help, he could track them down and get them back.

Crouching at the end of the of the crane arm, he rubbed his hands together. A tap on the side of his helmet and flick of his eyes to the correct listing on his HUD and Jason had Oracle’s contact visible. Hesitating, he prayed, “I hope I’m doing the right thing.”

Everything was small from up on the crane arm. It was one of those places that put things into perspective because he realized how small he was. Realized that he was a single link in a much greater chain and a more extensive family. One where doing everything on his own meant getting killed...or more importantly getting the people he cared about killed. Taking a long, slow breath he tapped the side of his helmet again. The line rang once, twice, three more times before Barbara’s computer generated Oracle mask popped up as a small icon on his HUD. “Hood, what’s up,” she sounded exhausted.

“Long night?”

“Haha, very funny. Batman had me running more background on something. Haven’t had to pull an all-nighter like this in awhile,” yawning she continued, “What do you need Jason?”

“Can you, um, track the comms devices for Amy and Dick,” his voice was tentative, like a child afraid to tell his parents he’d broken something expensive. He knew damn well that the second Barbara realized they were missing, she was going to kick his ass. Possibly kill him. No, definitely kill him.

The ferocity of her voice was enough that it startled him so badly he fell off the crane arm. “DID YOU FUCKING LOSE THEM! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME! JASON PETER TODD WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!?”

Shaking his head, it dawned on Jason that he was falling. A few curses escaped him as he scrambled for his grappling gun. The rebar below him didn’t look particularly friendly, standing bolt upright in concrete foundations. Absolutely not the way he wanted to end his night. A swift pull of the trigger and the hook launched into the skeleton of the building by the crane. He heard the gears inside it engage, dragging him sharply through the air. The change in direction yanking his arm harder than he expected.

Well, served him right for letting Barbara Gordon scare him and then falling off the damn crane. Rookie mistake and he knew it. Barbara, by comparison, was still yelling at him – full volume no less. So far she’d cursed him out, again, and then demanded an explanation. Not that he’d been able to even start one yet. “Ouf,” he grunted, hitting the side of a steel garter. “Okay. Barb…BARB,” he howled, cutting her off. “Shit. I’ll explain everything if you stop yelling at me.“ It was also taking everything he had to not call her mom. He figured that would get him beaten to within an inch of his life next time he saw her.

Not that that wasn’t on the tech wizard’s “To Do” list at this point anyway.

Through audibly clenched teeth, Barbara growled, “Start. Talking.”

“Gladly,” his voice was more amicable and jovial than he felt. But one of them had to be calm right now, or at least appear that way. “We split up to do some recon.” He could practically hear the tirade the ginger was having in her head. “They sent me to Gotham because they figured it’d be safer. Obviously not. So, yea, now I’m trying to find them because the assassins left me a message. And, well, I don’t like it when people beat up my brother or threaten my girl.”

That last one caused Barbara to do a complete 180. Her voice softened, curiosity overriding her anger for the moment and Jason could hear her eyebrows raised as she asked, “Your girl?”

Waving his left hand in circles, he groaned, “Yea. Yea. Explanation, interrogation, and threats later, tracking now.” This hadn’t been how he’d envisioned telling the others that he and Amy were back together, but the sentiment would have been true regardless. She was his girl and no one was going to hurt her if he could help it.

“Hey, I can multitask. It’s the search program that needs another minute. Thank you very much,” the red-head retorted. Her avatar might have lacked animation but her tone and pitch painted clear picture for Jason. For all of them. He could see her nodding her head side to side and glaring with furrowed brows. The indignation she felt implied by both her voice and the pose she’d likely struck in her wheelchair. The conjured image made him chuckle. “What are you laughing at?”

Lowering himself, back against the support beam of the building’s skeleton, he offered, “Don’t worry about it Barb.”

The seconds ticked by and he had to wonder if this was what Bruce had felt like when he’d been kidnapped by Joker all those years ago. If his adoptive father and mentor had agonized; fought every urge to chase threads of “what if” until he’d exhausted everything else.

“Got ‘em,” Barbara’s voice was like an alarm. “Sending you coordinates now. Do you need back up?” She was offering up Bruce and Tim – the current Robin – on a platter. Help for a night that was getting longer with each breath. A part of him wanted to accept, to let Bruce and Tim come to his aid. Granted he was more willing to work with his replacement, strange as it seemed, than his mentor. No, this was something he had to do himself. It was his fault, after all, for stirring up the damn hornet’s nest.

Shaking his head, Jason assured her, “I’ve got this.” His back up was already there, hopefully not much worse for wear. They needed to be alive and intact. If they weren’t then not even Ra’s would be able to bring back Deathstroke and Dustan when he was finished with them.

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cas-backwards-tie · 6 years

Text

Save Me Only To Kill Me

Jason Todd x Reader

Request: Reader was his girlfriend before he died (she knew he was Robin) and how she reacts when Jason is confirmed to be alive, as Red Hood. Also, could you make Jason a bit of a dick to the reader when they see each other again?

Warnings: Mention of Jason’s death, Jason being a dick, cursing, violence.

Catch Up Here: Series Masterlist

Author’s Note: Flashbacks are in italics. I loved the idea for this prompt and this idea just came to my head, I really hope you guys like it because I do! <3 Jason is literally my Husband.

You breathed out gruffly as you squeezed your eyes shut at the stinging of the needle piercing through your skin and being drawn out repeatedly. “I can now fully confirm that I hate stitches” you managed to say with what little breath you had in between each new stitch Alfred was creating.

“Hopefully you will not need anymore than these last few, Miss Y/N. I know it is a pain, but we want for you to heal properly.” Alfred spoke so calm and precisely that it baffled you... well, I suppose he’s not the one getting stitches, as well as he has to be concentrated to do it, you told yourself. You attempted to try and stay in the moment by forcing yourself to memorize every corner of the Batcave you could see from your seat at the medical examination table, however your mind eventually slipped back into the earlier events of this evening.

It was kind of funny, at least to you... that even though your boyfriend had died a little over three years ago you still got invited to these things. Maybe it was the fact that his brothers still took pity on you... maybe it was the fact that they now saw you as family considering everything you had all been through, or maybe perhaps it was audaciously the fact that they actually liked you and considered you a friend, which meant they wanted your company. Well, whatever the reason was you didn’t really mind as it meant you had a chance to escape your own life- play dress up and finally get to be the princess you’d always deemed you were in your mind and pretend for a night... not to mention that there’s always free little hors d’oeuvres and alcohol.

There was however, the downsides to going to these things as well. The filthy-rich assholes who treated everyone like they were walking garbage bags and unworthy of anyone else’ attention but their own... but there was also the fact that due to pretty much everyone there being A-Listers among Gotham and Metropolis and Bludhaven, it meant that people usually attempted a heist on one of the parties.

You were never worried though... I mean, if you knew that Batman and his whole gang were in the room with you if not right next to you chatting away, then, who would be worried? But of course you were the only person in the room who knew this.

Most of the party you always tried to get yourself drunk so you’d have a carefree night for once, not having to deal with the everyday pressures of life, not having to remember all the disguised insults the party-goers were most certainly going to spew the later the night went on as for some reason almost all the guests could pin-point if someone in the room was uncomfortable or just didn’t belong... I wasn’t ‘one of them’, is usually what they’d say.

Nights like these were usually spent chasing the arrogant, misogynistic man-children away from you, as they strived after a one night stand that was never going to happen in the first place... not after Jason... no... no one would ever replace the hole that Jason had left when he’d died...

This is what always happens, you tell yourself... the drunker I get the more I back-pedal... Jason’s GONE! He’s dead... maybe... maybe a one night stand would be good for me. I could always take the money out of the guy’s wallet in the morning, too.

Just as it looked like the guy you’d been chatting up for a while was going to ask you to get out of here, the sounding of glass shattering and hitting the floor enveloped the room. Most everyone in the room got as low as they could to the floor... gunfire rang through the air, ultimately hitting the ceiling from where you could see. The gunman must be near the entrance... you attempted to try and friend your friends and your reason for being here- The Wayne’s- as the crowd seemed to start silencing up.

You knew if you didn’t find them- then that meant that they’d gotten out all right and were probably changing into their alter-ego’s, getting ready to bust this gunman to the ground.

“Stay low! You need to get down! He’ll shoot you!” I whisper-yelled to the dumb, frat boy who I was supposed to be ‘getting out of here’ with, minutes before.

“No! I NEED to get out of here! I don’t wanna die!” He said probably a little too loudly as he stood up from crouching and started to run towards the exit- bang- I watched as his body fell to the ground, lifeless... I wish I could say I was sorry but I honestly wasn’t, being drunk and all (at least I still had common sense). His lifeless body scarred my eyes... I could have stopped him- I should have.

My heartbeat started to race as more gunman started to enter and pace the room- they guarded the exits- they were searching for something... or waiting... honestly, who knew what their game was?! Crazy people will do anything, they’re never predictable.

Panicked breathing was engulfing me from all sides, people were hiding their pearls and rings, I didn’t have anything of the likes so I lied there with my chest on the hardwood floor, hands under my shoulders in case for some reason I needed to get up quickly. I continued to survey the crowd, weary of what the people would do and where Batman and the gang were and when they would be back.

Gasps and screams could be heard from a few feet away as I turned back to see that an older woman was being torn away from her family- her husband’s hand finally letting go of hers as her body was forcefully taken away by one of the gunman- barrel pressed tightly to the side of her head, ready for the command that would drop her body not only onto the floor but into the grave in an instant.

A little argument was heard though I was far enough away that I couldn’t quite catch everything they were saying. Being friend’s with the Wayne’s brought me no good. “Stop!” I was prepared, I pushed myself up, quickly raising my hands above my head as I raised from a crouch to standing... It was quite odd to be the only standing civilian other than the old lady who was standing. Watching the arrogant bastards crumble at the gunmen’s will was quite fascinating in a way that I don’t think I could describe using words.

Standing gave me much more of a rush as the shattered windows of the skyscraper let the breeze from outside-having been on the 21st floor- rustle and blow into the building, ruffling my dress and daring to breeze the tablecloths from the few tables scattered throughout the party. “Why would you want to take her?” I had to come up with some sort of reason to bargain for my life instead of hers... “What does she have to offer you?”

The gunman tapped the barrel of his pistol against the lady’s head as if to show he was in thought... “Hmm... Fine!” He said decisively, not needing much of any reason to swap out hostages as he gripped the lady more tightly, shuffling with her in front of him, her facing the window which I thought was smart for a petty gunman, as he made his way over to me, not caring if he stepped on someone or something along the way. “But there better be no tricks,” he whispered in my ear, sending a wave of adrenaline up my spine and a shiver through my chest.

He grabbed me quickly and hard as he held me in her place, having thrown the old lady onto the ground. “No one makes a move! Or she dies! Everyone take out your wallets, NOW!” The gunman yelled from over my shoulder, making my ears ring.

“Do you have to yell?” I grumbled, hoping he would hear me.

“Do you want to die?” He said back smoothly.

“If anyone moves, or there’s ANY funny business, this place is going down! There’s a bomb set up somewhere in the building and we wouldn’t want to crash from twenty one stories up, would we?” I tried to flinch away from his yelling before he yanked my hair back in his direction.

In three seconds there were three drops. Three bodies down. I gasped as the gunman held me tighter, with more ferocity. The wind picked up at this moment and the gunman was looking around panicked... three of his men were down, he only had four more. I saw a shadow approaching one of the broken windows. Is it Batman? Only Batman can fly.

Guns blazing the figure which I could now see was zip lining here, had his guns out, aimed and starting shooting at the gunman, therfore- at me!

The gunman tried to dodge by pushing me in front of him, making me fall to the floor. “Get up! Get up!” He rambled as I felt him grab the back of my dress to haul me up back against him.

The gunman shot at the figure, again and again and again and again, missing every time. I could see the gunman’s target now that I was up again. He had a red helmet and pistols aimed at me... well, the gunman really. “Welp, looks like you’re out of luck.” The figure stated like a smart-ass as I started to panic, feeling the gunman move to put the barrel of his pistol back against my temple. My eyes got wide as the gunman started shuffling and half dragging me with him towards the side of the room with the broken windows.

“That’s it!” the gunman pressed the button on the controller he had in his right hand which he’d said was linked to a bomb in the building before returning to shoot at the red helmet dude. Empty. No more bullets- I’m free! I was about to jump for joy before I quickly realized what the gunman’s plan was as he continued to scramble at a faster pace to get us both to the window.

“No, no, no, no, no! no! no! NO!” I started to scream to myself more than anyone as I realized he was going to throw me out the window... oh shit.

I felt my body being pushed off the ledge before I turned to grab for the edge of the floor. I heard a shot ring out and crashing rumble as I panicked.

Don’t look down- DON’T LOOK DOWN! I couldn’t help from looking down which caused me to scream. I quickly heard a few more shots before watching a hand reach down and grip my forearm to pull me up. I could cry in relief if that had been the most of it. “Shit!” I ducked down as I heard a bullet fly past me.

“Really? I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘You’re Welcome’, but I guess that’d be too much for you.” The red helmet guy said to me before I quickly mumble a ‘sorry,’ and ‘thank you’. Just as he shot at the last remaining gunman in the room- who didn’t run away- a rumble was heard above and below us. Nightwing and Robin showed up on the floor- beating the gunman on the other side of the room to a pulp.

Flames engulfed the room as it seemed like most of the party-goers were gone, either having fled or most likely been lead out by Batman and Red Robin as they were the only ones not here at the moment. There were a few dead bodies lying on the floor among the rubble that seemed to be falling from the floors above us. “Now look who gets to have all the fun?” Red helmet said to Nightwing and Robin as they started to check the bodies for a pulse.

Just then the roof started to collapse in pieces and the fire started spreading, “How are we gonna get out?!” I started to panic- fire was spreading from the hall where the elevator and emergency stairwell was.

“Well, all I’ll say is have a nice flight, doll face” Red Helmet pushes me back out the window he’d rescued me from.

I don’t have time to process what I would’ve said to him, as if I did I would’ve told him he’s a complete asshole and what the fuck?! He rescued me only to kill me? I could only hear the wind rushing past me faster than any rollercoaster I’d ever been on as I felt weightless, yet like the most heavy thing on the planet at the same time... I’m falling...

I felt something slam against my stomach hard and let out a ‘oof’ sound, my stomach now pounding at the hard material against it, like I had been hit by a truck. “I got’cha” I opened the guys I didn’t realize I had closed as I turn to see I’m in Red Robin’s arms. I’m not falling anymore as I realize we’re swinging from one building to the next... I look up and see fire and huge pieces of concrete fall from the sky and panic... we could be hit! “Don’t worry- we’re not gonna get hit” Tim says amused like he’s telling a toddler that they won’t actually grow a watermelon in their stomach from eating one of the seeds.

“I-I’m not worried!” I scowl and put on my angry face as I look into his eyes.

“Yes you were... your eyes were the size of saucers, Y/N!” Tim laughs as we finally reach the roof of the next building where he jogs until he can stop, and puts me down.

“Yeah, yeah... whatever, Red Robin!” I tease out the name as I know their rule about using names in the field.

I jump at the feeling of a hand on my shoulder, “we’re all done Miss... if you’d like to go home I can arrange for that, but I’d honestly prefer to keep you here for at least tonight so we can make sure you don’t rip your stitches, and you won’t have to explain to your parents what’s happened.” Alfred explains.

Once I realize I’d gotten swept up into the earlier events of tonight I try to calm down my rapid heartbeat. That’s the past- I’m fine- I’m here, I’m in the Batcave right now.

“Especially since you seem to be somewhat traumatized and experiencing PTSD. I shall get Master Dick to take you to you upstairs.” Alfred walks off with the remaining materials he’d used to stitch me up before I walk out to where Dick and Bruce were currently arguing.

Seeing as they were arguing I stayed out of the way, hopeful that they’d stop soon, and wouldn’t see me so I wouldn’t have to be the peacekeeper this time.

“You’re just gonna let him budge in on ALL our missions and get away with KILLING them?! Bruce that’s NOT okay, you need to-”

“Do NOT tell me what I need to do Richard! It is not your place and even if I wanted to talk to Jason- he wouldn’t talk to ME! He HATES me Dick, he HATES me because he thinks I just let him die...”

“Okay, and now that he’s back you can actually-”

“Jason’s alive?” My voice came out more hoarse, and definitely louder than I’d intended to, but it didn’t stop the trained vigilantes from hearing it and turning to look at me in surprise.

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nightwingswing · 7 years

Text

“My little star” (Riddler x Reader)

Hello! Im back!! 💖

IM SO SO SORRY!!

Please forgive me, please.

I’ve been drepressed for almost all summer and also on an hard writers block for some time and now college just started and its even more stressful than before. Im sorry for the hiatues. Ill try to update as often as i can! I promise!

For now, I’ll update “The family’s girl” next, following it will come “Stop that wedding!” and in between will come part two of “Notre Dame de Paris” (Hunchback au) So IF YOU STILL HAVENT VOTED for (STW) and (NDdP) , VOTE NOW!

Requested by Anon!

Request: We are lacking some Riddler, May v we hey some Eddie lovin' please?

Requested by Anon!

Request: Could you write a Riddler x Reader? Pethaps he takes them hostage and....? Idk. Take it where you will! Please keep it SFW if you can. Thank you!

He may take you hostage in the future... who knows...he can become quite like Jon in stalker *wink wink* ;))

Tags: @hamsterforlive @plethora-of-things @wonderlace19 @cursedfaechild

If you want to be tagged or have any request, message me any time!!!

💖 Now, Enjoy!! 💖

It was a peaceful Gotham morning in your work, you were the head of the Gotham gazette. Your drive to get as involved as possible in the crime scene is what made you one of the best and more truthful of Gotham’s journalist. You always told the truth of the cases, making you also amongst the most hated people of Gotham.

The truth hurts sometimes.

But it also made you very respected in the hero and villains community. The first ones for your values and honesty, amongst the seconds because you didn’t demonize them. You treated them right.

You could kinda say you had a fan club.

Yep…

A pretty big fan club.

They even have a president!

…

Edward Nygma.

He was a big fan of yours, since you started on your College newspaper. He felt attracted to you on an intellectual level at first. He soaked in your work, drinking every letter as if it was water in a desert. He was so intrigued in meeting you … That knowing your drive to get into the wolf’s mouth you would come directly to his trap.

And he would finally meet you.

Eddie smiled at your new article that shone in his barely lit room.

“Soon…”

///*\\\

“(y/n)! Have you finished the paper in the new rector elections?” One of your coworkers asked.

“Here” You said as you gave her paper. “Parker will bring the photos later this evening.”

“Perfect.” She turned around and ran into the frenzy that was your editorial.

“(l/n)!” Your boss yelled. “Come here, now!”

“Coming boss.” You hurried to the office, a bit worried. Once inside you stood up in front of the table. “Is something wrong?”

“No. But we have received a note. The Riddler is about to strike! And you will be covering up!”

“Yes boss!” You smiled, reading the note. “I’m on it.” You ran to your spot and investigated the Riddler’s movement to discover where we will strike. You received an email that said:

“Riddle me this…Riddle me that…

If you want to find me

Tell me what I am...

· Until I am measured

I am not known,

Yet how you miss me

When I have flown.

· I never was, am always to be,

No one ever saw me, nor ever will

And yet I am the confidence of all

To live and breathe on this terrestrial ball.

· What time belongs to men twice a day?

· At night they come without being fetched,

And by day they are lost without being stolen.

· Whilst I was engaged in sitting

I spied the dead carrying the living

Good luck, miss (y/n).

-R

Hmm…quite though…but if you want to find him you have to crack them…

After staying afterhours, you finally cracked the code.

“I got it!” You write down:

· Time

· Tomorrow

· 5:14, Upside down on a digital clock it spells “his”

· Stars

· Ship

Hm…. this is kinda…like..a meeting place?

Time: Tomorrow at 5:14 pm in the..the Starship! The boat stranded in Gotham!

“Gotcha!” You smirked and write down everything. Then you changed in your pajama and went to sleep.

Tomorrow you were meeting a criminal.

///*\\\

The Riddler was wearing his best suit, ready to meet the little star of Gotham. He grabbed the flower and drive to the boat, the shadows covering him until he made it to the boat. There he set a table and two chairs, a candle and drinks too.

“hm…ready.” He smirked. “I wonder if her mind is capable of matching mines...oh well, I guess we’ll find out!” He sat in the chair, his can on his lap and waited for her.

///*\\\

You arrived at the boat and carefully entered, making your way up.

“Riddler?” You asked.

“Hello Miss (y/n)” He smirked. “Sit down please.”

You entered the place looking around, it gave of a kind of love vibe. You shrugged and sat down.

“What is your plan?” You got your notebook out.

“Wow, down to business, eh?” He smirked and served a glass of (f/d).

“No thank you, and yes, that’s why we are here…no?” You raised an eyebrow and he smirked.

“Indeed. I see you solved my riddles.”

“I did. clever hide your location on riddles. Very your thing”

“Thank you, it was a challenge. See if you can measure to me. I guess you can.” He smirked.

“Thank…you?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Now…I guess you want to know what I am up to?” Edward smirked.

“Well, obviously?” You raised an eyebrow and he smiled, his cheek got a bit redder.

“First, let me tell you, miss (y/n) that you look beautiful tonight! “He got a beautiful (f/f) out of nowhere and gave it to you.

“Oh... thank you…” You smiled and grabbed the flower, smiling and blushing. He smirked and got his bowler hat. “Now…what’s your plan?”

“Well, my beautiful maiden. My plan is and has always been prove I’m smarter than batman.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And destroy him, of course. But for now, I just want to know more about you, my dear. You know, you quite had the fan club back at Arkham.” He smirked.

“Oh? I do?” You felt flattered really. But for some reason, being idolized by the likes of the joker didn’t make you feel really…safe.

“Indeed darling. I, myself am draw to your truthful approach to the news.” His hand came to rest above yours, a charming smile on his face.

“Really? It usually makes me hated.” You looked at his green eyes thought the black mask.

“Nonsense, darling! People can’t stand the truth! You’re better than them! Smarter, more honest!” He said with so much passion as he clutched your hand in his. You blushed at the flattering speech.

“Thank you, Mr. Nygma” You smiled.

“Please, call me Eddie” He smiled loving.

“Okay…Eddie” You smiled.

You two keep talking for hours, exchanging riddles, theories and arguing about hot science topics.

After a wonderful 3-hour chat, he helped you down the boat and to your car. Before you could enter he pulled you flush against him, his hot breath mingled with yours. You blushed, and for some reason, your heartbeat had become faster and your cheeks burned in a blush.

“I like you, my little star...I like you very much…Maybe, maybe we could go out again? Tomorrow? There is a really interesting symposium in Bludhaven…maybe we could go, you know…together?” His cheeks became red as his green eyes looked around, shyly.

“Cute” You though as a smile took place on your lips. “Well…If any nothing comes up…. I don’t see why not.” You smiled.

“YES!” He though. “Perfect! I’ll send you a new note with the place and time!” He smiled exited.

“Great, can’t wait to know what you come up with!” You winked at him, making him blush. “Have a good night, Eddie.”

“Have a good night, (y/n)” He smiled before his eyes widened “(y/n) wait!” he grabbed your hand and pulled you in a sweet, chaste kiss. You froze in place, blushing madly.

As he pulled away a few seconds later, you looked at his dreamy eyes and blushing face.

“Now, Have a sweet night, my beautiful star.” He smiled dreamily, you smiled back.

“Good night” You smiled back and sit inside your car, a silly smile took place on your face and you couldn’t shake the warm feeling off.

“he was pretty cute...” You bit your lip before shaking some sense on your head and drove back to your home, to write that article you had to hand tomorrow.

He smiled one last time on the direction your car took before sitting inside a black car, that took off almost immediately.

“How was it, boss?” One of his lackeys asked.

“Perfect. Now, the other plan starts now.” He smirked evilly as his lackeys smirked back.

“Batman won’t know from where the hit came!” One of his crooks laughed.

“Down, down,down,down!” They cheered.

Eddie thoughts drove of the cheering crew and to your beautiful smile, your soft luscious (h/c) hair. Yous beautiful mind, your enchanting eyes…he sighs dreamily….

“SHE’S SO PERFECT…GOSH I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! I KISSED HER!” Eddie smiled and licked his lip, he could still taste your lip balm. “SUCK IT PENGUIN! SHE LIKES ME! SUCK IT HARLEY! I KISSED HER FIRST!” Eddie cheered himself. “SHES SO SMART! SHE CRACKED MY RIDDLES! HIGH LEVEL RIDDLES! SHE DESERVES MY LOVE! SHE DESERVES TO BE ON MY SIDE! SHE WILL ME MY QUEEN!!”

“Down, down,down,down! YAY!” They cheered loudly.

Edward smirked.” Easy boys…” He looked outside his tinted windows to see the characteristic shadow of the bat and his Robin jump in the direction they just came from.

Eddie smirked evilly.

“Riddle me this, riddle me that…who is afraid of the big, black, bat?”

///*\\\

Bonus!

Meanwhile, at Arkham Asylum:

“THAT GREEN ASSHOLE THINKS HE CAN DESTROY THE BAT, TAKE GOTHAM AS HIS OWN AND TAKE THAT PLESURE FROM ME?! NO FUCKING WAY!” The joker screamed as he his fist against the bulletproof crystal as the other inmates looked at him with a bit of fear. “IM SICK OF HIM! OF HIS FREAKING ANNOYING RIDDLES!.unless…” The manic grin on the joker face became crazier as he let out a more than usual, manic cackle that sounded in all Arkham. “He thinks riddles are funnier than jokes? Hahahahahaha well see about that!” The Joker banged his blood-stained hands on the clean crystal, imprinting his handprints in it.

His catlike smirk widened, almost splitting his face in half.

“This is war.”

(so...Want a part two?)

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ilovehighhats · 7 years

Text

Scutum, ch. 2, The Walk

The bed was made after she forced herself to get up and do some chores, shower and dress. Hopping on top of the cover she sat comfortably, preparing to surf the net. To distract herself from tempest raging in her mind since yesterday.

Thoughts coiled in her head all night, simultaneously tightening and releasing pressure over Helena's heart. Bane was alive. He was a short walk away, a distance she could scale anytime she wanted. He came for her, to be with her. It was everything she wanted. More even, since he was silently watching over her through all the years. Vigilant but careful, he never let her feel pressure other than concern of a friend.

All that while he planned to destroy a whole city, after keeping its occupants hostage for few bitter winter months, exposed to elements and cruelty, and oppression. Men, women, children alike.

Death was indiscriminate, but his pragmatism and casual way he talked about it rung discord in Helena's brain. How could one be both loving and murdering? Focused on subtleties of academia and brutally murdering scientists?

She spent unnecessary hours trying to find in her mind arguments against him. Every single one felt hollow. Bane was a child of circumstance he was born into, molded by violence, later excelling in a cutthroat mercenary environment he was an autonomous part of. Tied by honour or sentiment he worked for League of Shadows, destroying and tainting the world… but what was the difference between him and some shady businessman who funded those kinds of operations? Where was he worse from people ordering abductions, assassinations, assaults? How were his sins comparing to presidents ordering their troops to invade foreign countries, supposedly for peace and upholding higher moral values?

Ultimately, Helena knew Bane was at the very least a murderer. Probably objectively could be qualified as mass murderer. She couldn't find in herself an ounce of honest to God fear over that fact. What she needed was an explanation, reasoning, validation.

Above all, she wanted to make sure he was done with his mercenary work for good.

If only he'd spent all those years and resources towards his research. At fifty there was still some time left for him to leave his mark on the world, a different one he had scored already over the years. Maybe he could bridge the gap between his disposition and what the world made him become, maybe he could reconcile merciless machine of destruction with intricate tool of discovery.

After all, many inventions came to life from dusts of war.

Helena was still the most interested in Bane the person. The man behind now non-existent mask.

How would he be without everything he built so far? No people to govern over, no tasks to complete, no places to conquer. Peace and quiet of retirement crushed many men before him. Would he be like Napoleon, a genius tactician reduced to moping around an island he was confined to, no light in his eyes anymore? Would he become gluttonous and complacent?

All she needed to do to find out was simple - let the man do what he wanted.

But damn, he always got his way. This didn't feel right to just let him slide into comfort of a relationship, without a hitch, hindrance, without second thoughts.

She wanted nothing more herself...

Chime announced new email. She wasn't in the least interested in anything but her neighbourhood friendly mercenary, but obsessing over Bane had to stop. And for that she needed distraction. An email would do.

Was it a commission? A friend with news on their kid? A request from LinkedIn? Some horribly disfigured person asking for money for a medical procedure?

No such luck.

‘I read your emails.’ the message said simply.

Another chime.

‘All three hundred sixty four of them. It took a while.‘

Helena stared at the screen. Laptop could use some cleaning; the edges were darkened with grime. Fingerprints smudged the dark plane of glass. She focused on them instead of words displayed below.

‘One might think you were worried about me.’

“Oh, you fucking dick!” she growled.

‘Contrary to what you might have thought, I took care of you to the best of my abilities and possibilities. This land for instance, along with everything on it would be yours in the event of my death. There is a hefty sum to go with it. The notary is obliged to assist you in any legal matter you might encounter.’

‘Also, there is the small subject of your concessions. Who do you think gave Herr Schmidt your contact info? ‘

‘Also, there is another plot of land in Italy, and apartment in London. A mansion in Kashmir. Summer houses in Chile, Namibia, Mongolia, and Argentina. House in Louisiana. Pick any if this place doesn't suit your needs.’

‘Also, you might want to reconsider your comment about being indebted to me. You're welcome to follow my suggestion as for the interpretation of this whole situation.‘

Infuriating. He danced around important subjects, never leaving any information that could link him to his true identity, all the while conscious of Helena’s awareness of the double meaning of his words. Playing her knowledge against her.

Closing her eyes to think she exhaled slowly, ignoring pings of notifications coming from the computer. Well, for one Bane did put enormous effort into tricking her. Then again, it was all to make her comfortable and content. He never talked her out of her numerous affairs. Instead, he made sure she was well provided for, either by his own commissions or those of his friends. As control freaks go, he was actually quite caring and generous.

Okay, now he was agitated too. Five messages in span of around five minutes.

Very unlike Bane.

Helena glanced over the emails, more ranting with “also” as a starter, and hit reply on the latest one. If they were to discuss anything it certainly couldn't happen over monitored emails.

‘Let's go for a walk. Meet me at mine in five.’

She sent it and closed the laptop. Not wasting time immediately went to put on her boots and warm jacket. She was finishing with laces when Bane appeared on the pathway to her cottage. Well before the time she gave him.

She thought he'd look out of place, the memory of his imposing silhouette from Armenia still etched in her mind, but he was irritatingly casual to a bystander. If not for the scars one could think this was just an ordinary man, past his prime but still fit. Dark jumper with turtleneck hid most of his markings, the sleeves long enough to cover his hands down to base of thumbs. Washed down blue of baggy jeans blended with grey sneakers. The only spot of colour was scarf tossed carelessly around his neck.

Helena could have sworn he magically shrunk over the years. Once she thought he was a giant. Now, as he stood politely by the glass door to the terrace waiting for an invitation in, she saw he couldn't be taller than her latest fling. Which put Bane from realm of fantasy back into cozy normalcy. Unnerving. Dangerous. He was anything but normal, average or ordinary.

She stood up and gestured for him to come in.

“Since it's all yours I don't see why you're sticking to formalities,“ she observed, sliding her hands into warm jacket. It was still chilly out.

“It's your home. I'd hate to be impolite.”

Helena only hummed in wonder. Bane watched as she tucked scarf and hat on, zipped up and put gloves on her hands.

“Are we going far?”

“Don't be so amused. I was always amazed how you'd burn up even in the middle of winter.” They went out to the terrace and Helena immediately congratulated herself choice of wardrobe. Despite the sun, cold wind pinched her cheeks with unpleasant gusts. “We might take a turn around the beach?”

Bane nodded and they started, silent for the short walk down to the sea. He followed Helena down wooden steps through budding foliage, across the tarmac and down to the sandy patch by the water. Only then he stepped up a bit to catch up and stroll shoulder to shoulder.

“I like your hair like this,” he gestured vaguely towards her messy bun.

“Dishevelled?“

“Long. But the disarray is quite charming too,” he admitted.

“Thank you. I like you with your hair on better too.”

The weather was nice, even though gale from over the sea tossed their scarves around carelessly.

“You know, I don't think we ever went anywhere together like this. Always either you or I was one step behind, trailing along.”

“Technically you’re wrong, since I carried you around once or twice. Almost the same.”

“I disagree. That's hardly comparable to walking together.”

“Perhaps.”

“I'm worried, you know.” She sighed. Bane waited patiently for a follow-up. “You turn up all of a sudden after all this time and I have to remind myself of everything you are.”

“Do you?” He sounded genuinely interested.

“No, I really don't.” Helena laughed dryly. “But it feels wrong to just pick everything up and start anew.”

“Why?”

“Well, you're a mass murderer. Maybe not exactly, since the bomb exploded safely away from Gotham, but you confirmed yourself you wanted to blow everyone up.”

“Does it matter to you?”

Fuck.

“Maybe.”

“Helena.”

He knew her too well, had her thoughts, intimate and private, on display for him for years.

“How do I even call you now?” she spat angrily, furrowing her brows in impotent frustration.

He only chuckled. “Tony.”

Nose wrinkled in comical display of distaste Helena sneered.

“Don't be ridiculous. It doesn't fit you one bit.”

“It’s my name.”

“I get it, your alias should be like a second skin, yadda, yadda…”

“No,” he interrupted. “You don't understand. That is my real name.”

“It is?”

“Yes.”

“But you were born in prison.” Like that would be the explanation to everything.

“Every penal institution keeps meticulous records.”

“Even ones where people are treated like animals?”

“Yes, even those. I know exact time and date of my birth, names of my parents, my weight, height, and credentials of doctor who cut the umbilical cord. No different from any other person.” Looking down at her he snorted inelegantly. “You thought it was all savagery and dirt?”

“It sounded like it.”

“Nazis treated people like inferior beings, which didn't stop them from recording every name anyway.”

“Point taken. Still, Tony just doesn't suit you.”

He chuckled again. “What would then?”

“...Bane.”

He laughed.

“But we can't keep using that name, what if someone overhears?” she continued, oblivious to the way he stared at her in amazement. Whether she realized, the decision was made, and she already acted upon it. “I could always try calling you ‘babe'. “ She winked at him. “Sounds almost the same and is culturally acceptable. Alas,” theatrical sigh escaped her, followed by slight shaking of her head, “that would imply a relationship closer than what we have.”

“How do you mean?” Bane furrowed his brows again. Maybe she knew exactly where she stood and only played with him?

“Well I don't really know you. I thought once I had you all figured out,” rueful smile softened her gaze for a second, when she recalled one conversation they shared, “but in reality I don't know how to reconcile everything I know about you. You're like three different people to me now. Bane the terrorist, Tony the scientist and this unnamed man who said yesterday he loves me.“

No, she wasn't sure what she wanted, Bane thought. She was figuring it all out still.

“It’s too much, all at once. Two days ago I was mourning your death. Yours and Dorrance's!” She huffed a small scoff. “And now here we are. But enough on that. What did you mean when you said you want me to go away with you?”

“There are people who know your name and your connection to me never was a mystery. I wanted to take you somewhere where we could both have a fresh start.”

“But I like it here.”

“It would be safer that way.”

“You assumed I'd just pack my things and go because you say so?”

“Yes.”

“How typical.” There was some disappointment in her tone, but she was surprisingly stable otherwise. “How about this. Stay here with me. Let me get to know you. Then we'll see.”

The proposal was risky at best. Unwise.

“For how long?” Bane found himself asking to buy some time.

“I don't know. As long as it takes, I guess.”

“It’s not a game, Helena. “

“I'm not playing games with you… pal.”

“Pal?”

“I have to call you something!”

“How about ‘mate'?”

“Tsk, tsk, you try to sneak double meaning in there?”

“Never,” he winked.

But his smirk faltered into a disappointed scowl.

“I imagined this to be different,” he admitted towards the sea.

“Well, it's real.”

“It is,” he agreed.

No matter what happened next he knew he'd never let her go now. Even if she would keep him perpetually an arm’s length away. Just being together like this, walking down the beach, was doing wonders to his battered soul. For the first time in years he felt good. Even despite aches of his body and discomfort the conversation brought along.

The smile he gave her when he turned back threatened to overpower weak March sun. She didn't see it, observing rolling clouds, swimming deep into her own thoughts.

He faltered. That was his mistake in the past. He was too focused on his own musings to take into consideration she had ones of her own. Valid point of view, vector of actions she took. He would do well to listen to her more carefully this time. What he wanted could be different from what she needed...

“How did you get here, anyway? After you've been hit by a rocket back in Gotham.”

The reply was automatic, he had other things on his mind, but he was glad she was interested in him still.

“There was a lot of commotion that I missed, since I was unconscious for the most part. I ended up in a bunker, been roughly patched up. Transported around the city to avoid detection, then out with a smuggling tunnel. Spent most of those two months on a vessel at sea.” And in a hideout that was tropical mansion in Bahamas. Details, details, details. Helena didn’t have to know everything, at least not all at once.

“And you magically healed yourself?”

“No. There was a professional who took care of me.”

“So, the League of Shadows just let you go?”

“No.”

“Are you going to volunteer any information without me explicitly asking for it?”

“Probably not. It's not who I am.”

“Go figure,” she chuckled.

Bane resisted an overwhelming urge to gather her close and kiss that sound away. He hadn't had a chance to kiss her yet. How did that omission even happen?

“Okay, so what about your primary occupation then?” she continued, unaware of his inner turmoil.

“I'm an astrophysicist.“

“I'm being serious here, friend.”

He was taken aback.

“Is it really so hard for you to call me by my name?” Do we have to negotiate everything too? He thought. Do you still want me? Why won't you accept me for who I am now instead of who I was?

“Yes. Now stop evading the question.”

Her sincerity put him in his place.

“They thought I was dead, but are probably looking for me.”

“Why?”

“They expect me to lead them. Expected. Now they probably want me eliminated.“

It came out more bitter than he intended, resentment towards Helena bleeding out into his words.

“Would you stay alive as long as you did, if that was really their objective?”

Bane stopped dead midstride.

“Well, your men are League’s men, are they not?”

“They are loyal to me.” The argument sounded childish even to his own ears. But he knew that to be true.

“Maybe they just let you retire with dignity.” Helena reasoned, offhand remark offering no comfort, only brutal honesty backed by cold logic. That was a hard blow. The realization he might have been let go of consciously, as a courtesy for years of work. As a reward for his sacrifices.

“You could step up and lead them different path, right? But you chose to come here instead.”

Action as clear to interpret as a written resignation.

“What happened to the people who cared for you when you were convalescing after Gotham? The ones who smuggled you to safety?”

“They work for the league still, or went into hiding.”

He never stopped to think about what happened to them. Some leader he was.

“I still don't understand how you are up and about so fast after major injury.”

“That drug I was taking, the one the mask was for. It had many purposes beside the main one. One side effect was vastly improved self-healing ability of my body,” he supplied absentmindedly.

He didn't leave them, they abandoned him. A general no longer needed. Broken soldier sent back home to put himself together, too incomplete to be an asset again.

“Cool.”

Helena's amused voice brought him back to reality.

Wasn't that what he wanted? To be left alone, to live in peace?

If the League let him go, as she suspected, he had nothing to escape from. He could just stay here.

“Plus I was cared for by the person who concocted it. She is real magician with organic chemistry,“ he finished his previous thought out loud.

“Isn't magic an undiscovered science?”

“Indeed.”

This time he made sure she saw his happy grin. Relief pooled in the pit of his stomach and he started different kind of plotting nearly instantly.

Again, why didn't he kiss her yet?

oOo

Bane stopped at the threshold waiting for Helena to permit him entry. She scoffed and waved him in, aggravated with his attention to formalities.

“Do it one more time and I will legitimately treat you like a vampire. With your accelerated healing and all.” She warned half seriously.

“That was Venom. Don't have it anymore.” He vaguely gestured around his bare face.

“Oh. Mere mortal like the rest of us puny humans.”

“Quite so.”

He followed her downstairs to the kitchenette.

“Take a seat,” Helena threw over her arm as she busied herself with the stove. There was still enough soup for the two of them, and she could make some grilled cheese to go with it.

Warm chest pressed to her back and two big palms splayed over the counter on each side of her. Bane leaned in to peek over her shoulder.

“What are we having?”

“Chunky tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Do you like them with mustard?”

“I don't know.”

“I'll make two kinds then. Fried in butter or baked?”

“You decide.”

“Mustard ones will be fried, and I'll make plain baked too, then.”

“Sounds good,” he rumbled and turned back to sit at the table.

Silence stretching between them was cozy like a blanket, invaded only by sounds of Helena working, heating up pan and oven, layering cheese over toasts and checking on soup back on the stove. Bane just watched her sprawled in the chair like in the old days, listening to her absent-minded humming. Skylight in the corner let some of pale sunlight in, but it hardly reached the counter below and rest of the room. Helena worked under cold spotlight stretching under upper shelves over the working station. The oven emitted warm, yellow light, a counterpoint to almost medical detachment of grey planes of steel shelves with their cold blue of led lamps.

This was it. The feeling of rightness washed over Bane, the familiarity of place and situation, ridiculous since there was nothing he could attach himself to. But he did find himself at home. Sitting in a chair and watching Helena like he did so many times before.

It was right, somewhat. He was complete.

“You make me satisfied. That's why I came here. You make life simple. There is something that's just enough, without much fight, without much arguing. You allow me to just, be,” he said, recalling a rant interested same subject years past.

To think she knew what was best for him even back then.

“This is the first time in your life no one expects anything of you,” she mused, mulling over his words while she ladled the soup.

Bane only murmured in agreement, waiting for anything more she might add.

Twin bowls clunked softly on wooden plane of the table, followed by plates Helena set gently with a smile.

“Tuck in,” she encouraged Bane, sipping soup with a muffled sigh of satisfaction.

“How barbaric,” he noted, smiling over bite of toast.

“Cutlery is useful, but not always necessary. This is much better at warming one up after a stroll,” she defended herself, glancing coyly over rim of the bowl before she set it finally on the table. “Besides, isn't it nice to wrap your hands around something warm and pretty?“

“I had in mind something else than clay,” he smiled. She didn't pick up on frivolous tone he used. Too soon still? “This is my new favourite thing. This soup.” He practically inhaled half of it in one go. “If I knew how good you were in the kitchen I would have you cooking along with copying.”

“You don't get to joke about that!” She huffed in mock annoyance.

“Why not?”

“I'm supposed to be traumatized over the subject, you know.”

“Are you?”

“Not over this one, no.” There was enough between them to leave open the possibility of working through myriad other things other than the fact she was abducted and imprisoned. “So, did you have anyone? Over the years?”

Surprised look he sent her was a gem, the unguarded way his lips opened a bit taking off at least a decade of strain off his face.

“There were women,” he admitted.

“Anyone long term? “

“No,” he furrowed his brows, leaning back in the chair. “You know how difficult it is to meet anyone not professionally interested in my person, in my line of occupation. They were all paid.“

Helena nodded with a hum, not in the least put out.

“I expected as much.”

“Last one was few years back,” he said quietly, munching on his toast, eyes turned down.

It wasn't like him to be embarrassed, so what was it?

“So this is the first time in your life you're allowed to just get to know people, develop healthy relationships, without complications over work.”

That wasn't a question. She said it like she only needed him to confirm something she thought about long and hard, before they even started this conversation.

Bane didn’t like the look of resolve on her face. Not one bit.

“Where are you going with this?”

“I think we both should give each other ample time and space to work this situation over,” she said, a decisive nod punctuating her conclusion.

“Explain.”

“Perhaps it is not me you're in love with, but the idea of this life that I lead. The peaceful life you want to have. Perhaps I'm in love with the memory of you, more than the actual person.”

He couldn't argue otherwise immediately, which in itself gave him pause.

“What then? How do you want to proceed?”

“We have the basic covered already. Let's get to know each other. You have your cottage, I have mine. I wouldn't mind if you wanted to broaden your circle of friends.”

With some effort Helena could pretend she didn't notice how he seethed across her.

“Which reminds me, Grace and Graham will invite me over for Easter, am I allowed to say you're here?”

“Yes,” he hissed.

“Would you like to come with?”

“I don't know,” His eyes were impassive, but his jaw was set so hard he barely opened it to speak. “My thanks for the meal,” he nodded and turned to the stairs.

“Are you gonna sulk because I want to deal with this situation like an adult?”

“Am I allowed to?” He sneered.

“Do what you want. I know I can take care of myself and just live on my own. Can you?”

He turned at the bottom of narrow staircase, straightening up to look down at her. No more a scientist she walked with over past hour.

“Helena, you will do well to remember one simple truth about me. Whatever you or I would like to think, I am not a product of my circumstances. I am a product of my decisions.” His voice was quiet, but gravitas of words seeped to her in powerful confident waves, strengthening their message. “And my decisions over past decade proved that not only am I capable of taking care of myself, but also of you, and a very complicated military operation, all at the same time.” His eyes narrowed, conducting the anger he felt. “Now for the solitary living, the whole point of me being here was to avoid it. I've been alone most of my life. But I understand your fears. You won't hear from me again, until you ask yourself for my presence.” He nodded in farewell. “Goodbye, neighbour.”

#bane #fanfic #bane dcu #original character #tdkr #fanfiction

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