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choco-glow · 3 years

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Day of the Dead (Robin)

April 27th.

The bed shifted, creaked as Bruce dragged himself up out of the comfort of his way too expensive (and totally worth it) mattress, followed reluctantly by an equally exhausted Selina. He insisted she use the bathroom first, taking that time to rub his face and scalp, forcing himself into an alertness that he didn’t feel…and Bruce ignored his constantly buzzing phone. He could hear Alfred puttering around in his own room down the hall, Damian’s near silent footsteps alongside his dog’s as the youngest Wayne limped down to let Titus out. Tim…Bruce sighed, knowing that Tim one of two places; passed out in the chair in front of the computer down in the cave, or passed out on the couch in the library, his laptop on the floor.

Either way, he was sleeping, most likely, and Bruce was going to take advantage of that.

“Hey.” He glanced up, and the smile on his lips was small, but real; she looked so good leaning against the doorway in nothing but her underwear and one of his old band tees, tousled hair sticking to her forehead from her shower, a sweet smile on her face, those familiar green-blue eyes always so dark in the morning. Bruce dragged himself upright to wrap her up in his arms, hugging her tight, and Selina melted against him, nuzzling his cheek. “Bruce…”

“Thank you for staying…” He murmured, gratitude thick in his voice, and she patted his bicep, popping up on her tiptoes to kiss his nose.

“Of course, sweetheart. Go wash up and get dressed, I’ll head down and help Alfred with breakfast?”

“Selina, you don’t have to…” She shook her head, chuckling, and he chuckled back, ignoring his impulse to just turn away and go brood. Brooding wouldn’t help today…

“I want to. I know what today is…and why it’s so hard.” He ducked his head, swallowing his next word, and she cupped his cheek. “Bruce. I mean it. Jason…” He lifted his head, blue eyes tired but crinkled from a weary smile.

“I miss him.”

“I do too. Go on. We’ll be waiting for you.” He nodded, and after a lingering kiss, despite Cat’s aversion to morning breath, Bruce let her go. The shower was hot enough to wash away some of the pain from his shoulder and upper back, and after washing up, he carefully redressed the bandage on his thigh, then pulled on a pair of old jeans and a tee shirt. It was Saturday, thankfully, so Bruce didn’t have to worry about a suit, and making his way down the stairs, he was glad to see visitors…especially these visitors.

Four years…four years, he’s been gone now. His heart twinged, but Bruce didn’t have to hold up a mask around Dick, who hugged him tight as soon as his first Robin saw him, nor around Barb, who he knelt to hug as well. Steph looked a little lost, a little nervous to be here, and Bruce hugged her too, whispering thanks to her as he’d done to the rest, and if Steph hugged his waist a little harder, her voice a little thick…well, Bruce wasn’t going to tell.

“Father, Alfred the cat is most worried about you.” Bruce paused as he set Steph back on her feet, turning to face Damian, who was holding his purring tuxedo cat and looking concerned…and Bruce couldn’t help the tiny, choked sob, because Damian looked so much like Jason at that age, his whole being focused on “comfort father”.

“So I see. May I hold him?” Damian nodded, and Bruce gently took the cat, smiling as Alfred bumped noses with him and settled on his shoulder, purring deeper still. “Thank you, Damian…”

“This is an auspicious day; we need all the comfort we can receive…” He murmured, and Bruce hugged his youngest tight, tears spilling over now…and Damian hugged him back, clinging to him tight.

“That’s…that’s true…c’mon everyone, we better get into the kitchen before Alfred the butler and Selina yell at us.” He murmured, and Dick chuckled while Barb smiled and took the lead. Damian pulled away from the hug, but not from Bruce, and they walked in hand in hand, taking comfort from one another. Jason’s photo, the last one taken two weeks before he died, was sitting on the counter, as always, with a candle lit…and the new addition of a tin can with the label meticulously soaked off, full of dandelions, and Bruce paused by it, lips twitching up in a fond smile.

“Master Bruce, I hope you don’t mind…I wanted…well…I remember Jason making those bouquets for us when he was a child…” Alfred murmured, and Bruce just pulled him into a hug, tears running hot down his cheeks now.

“I can’t think of a better thing…It’s perfect. Best bunch of flowers that’s ever entered this house.” They all shared a laugh at that, though Selina, Steph, and Damian looked a little confused, and it was Dick who explained, his voice warm and fond as he remembered all the times Jason would prowl the Wayne grounds, plucking dandelions and purple clovers, filling an old coffee can or tin can full to the brim and bringing them back to the house to share, his smile bright and happy.

“…At first, we offered him the flowers from the garden, and Jason just shook his head, looking scared, and said that he got in trouble for pulling those. No one cared about the wildflowers.”

“Oh, what a sweetheart…” Selina breathed, and Bruce and Alfred settled at the table at last, which prompted Dick to pass them the plate of pancakes and motion to fill up.

“He really was…c’mon, let’s eat, best way to remember our boy.”

“Here here! And whatever we do, avoid Buzzfeed today.” Barb raised her OJ in a toast, and Bruce closed his eyes with a sigh.

“God, I hate Buzzfeed…”

“Same here, old man. Same here.”

—-

Six months I’ve been back, and not a Bat to bother me. Jason settled in for a quiet Saturday morning, and ignored cable for a change; he knew what was going to be all over the news today, and he, for one, didn’t want to hear yet another poignant portrayal of his death. At least Bruce wouldn’t be out in public today; he’d learned that from running through the old news stories from the last few years, and frankly, Jason was grateful for it. It…meant that Bruce at least care enough to mourn him. Even if the goddamn Joker is still alive…

He sighed, and pushed away the anger he still felt at that fact, and pulled out his guns, then pulled up YouTube on his TV. He scrolled through his usual recommended list, feeling…restless and a little out of his element; it was the first death day he’d spent back in Gotham, and his normal goofy favorites just…weren’t going to cut it. Then he saw the one video he didn’t expect to see.

Buzzfeed Unsolved: Jason Todd, Wayne or Robin?

A grin split his face.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

—-

“Welcome to Buzzfeed Unsolved. I’m Ryan Bergera, and this is Shane Madej. Today, we are covering the mysterious deaths of two important people in the deadly metropolis that is Gotham City…or are we?”

“Wait, what?”

“Jason Todd Wayne, the adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, and the second Boy Wonder, Robin, both of whom disappeared the same day, April 27th…and have never been heard from again.”

“Ryan, you said it was one murder!”

“And therein lays our mystery, because the more you hear details of the case, the more you wonder if these two boys were really the same person.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh…I smell a conspiracy!”

“Shane, you smell lunch.”

“And a conspiracy! C’mon, out with details, gimme something, Bergera.”

“Hold your freakin’ horses, dude, lemme go over things…” Jason watched with unconcealed delight as he disassembled his pistol, cleaning each part as Ryan laid out the admittedly sparse facts of the case; of course, Jason knew the truth, but he was frankly somewhat impressed with the story that Bruce and Alfred had concocted. Of course, they couldn’t say the Joker beat him to death with a crowbar and blew up a building on him ( and even Bruce couldn’t have guessed that Talia al Ghul had stolen his corpse from the morgue, gave them an equally beaten dead kid to bury, and dumped his ass in the Lazarus Pit). But the story of Jason being killed as a hit out on the Wayne family was all too likely.

Batman had a lot of enemies.

Bruce Wayne had a lot more.

“No one was ever charged for Jason’s murder…here’s the last video of the press conference where Bruce explains things.”

“…Jesus, he’s barely keeping it together…I know he’s a billionaire, but he’s got a lot of heart…poor guy…”

“Yeah…I know we tend to fuck around on this channel, but…this kid died. Pretty badly, from what the evidence shows.”

“Man…so, you said there were theories, right?”

“Yeah, and they only get worse from here.”

“Well, we started the program with a dead kid; can’t get any worse than that.” Jason paused the video and just…stared at Bruce’s face, the tears on his cheeks, his exhausted appearance…and sighed a little.

“Sorry Dad…”

—-

“Theory number one: Dick Grayson killed Jason Todd out of jealousy. It was rumored that the brothers didn't get along and Dick and his father didn't have a good relationship when Jason came to the household.” Jason’s eyes narrowed at that one; whoever thought up that crock of shit had another thing coming. Sure, he and Dick had bickered like brothers, but at the end of the day, Dick was his brother from another mother. Even now, even with everything that had happened…Jason missed those hugs something fierce.

“I mean, that’s a pretty cut and dry one…”

“So it would seem…but if you look at the interviews, there’s nothing in Dick’s demeanor that shows any resentment or anger. And both Jason and Dick were orphaned at early ages and adopted by Bruce, so…”

“Yeah, I dunno. It’s cut and dry, but…at the same time, it doesn’t really make sense.”

“Especially given that Dick every year celebrates Jason’s birthday; I mean, killers can be weird, we know that from the last several seasons, but…I dunno. It doesn’t really fit.”

“Probably some asshole detective looking to close it up.”

“Probably…”

“On to number two!”

—-

“Bruce Wayne killed Jason Todd. This was, actually, the first big conspiracy theory to hit the web. Thankfully, it quickly died when people saw just how devastated Bruce was for months after his death, but apparently there are still some trolls on public forums who accuse Bruce Wayne of killing his son.”

“…That’s utter bullshit. Fuckers.”

“Right there with ya, buddy. Right there with ya. Onto three?”

“Please.”

—-

“Jason isn't dead, because of sightings of a homeless boy who wandered all around Crime Alley and looked exactly like Jason Todd. He was completely battered and bruised and suddenly disappeared after a year in the streets, likely due to a trafficking ring.” Jason raised an eyebrow at that, and turned his AK, Shane and Ryan’s incredulousness a comfort. He wasn’t sure why he was still watching this, but…it was kinda nice. Nice to have people be pissed off for his sake.

“Jesus Christ, Gotham, y’all are so dark.”

“May be why their superhero is Batman, dude.”

“STILL. Could this one have some merit, though, since he was an orphan?”

“This one is one of the strongest theories to date, because Jason was from a place called the Narrows, not far from Crime Alley, and according to Wayne Enterprises official documentation in their family museum, Jason had had issues with drugs and abuse, though to what extent, only the family knows. It’s a pretty ugly idea, but…it’s possible.”

“I think I’d rather be dead, Ryan, than go through that.”

“Same. Same…”

—

“Now. We move onto the disappearance of the second Robin, who vanished the same day that Jason Todd supposedly died. Possible theories of the disappearance of the second boy wonder—”

“Ryan. Ryan. Buddy. Champ. Are you implying, really, that Jason and Robin are the same kid?!”

“I’m just reading the script!”

“You wrote the script!”

“…I may be implying that they’re the same, yes.”

“I KNEW IT.”

“You don’t know shit.” Jason started laughing, and paused to get himself a fresh beer, ordering pizza while he was at it. Alright, this wasn’t so bad after all…

—

“He is hiding. Some say he hid from Batman, and some say Batman is hiding him from others. They don't know what, though. Some even say he quit the job.”

“Alright, I’ll bite, who’s ‘some’.”

“Paparazzi, conspiracy theorists, Alex Jones, etc…”

“Ah yes. The enlightened crowd.”

“Pftt…This is the weakest one, so we’ll go ahead and lay out the second theory while we’re at it. The second Robin died. After Robin stopped appearing with batman for an entire year, the same time Jason Todd died. This used to be a widely spread theory, until people realized maybe talking about the death of a boy in a terrorist attack for a conspiracy theory after his father broke down in public isn't the nicest thing to do.”

“And this is your theory.”

“This…is the strongest one I think, and the one that has the most emotional punch. But let’s be real; if the second Robin was indeed Jason Todd, then his Batman HAS to be Bruce Wayne. And c’mon. We’ve all seen the nightmare surrounding THAT theory.”

“Uh, yeah. No thanks, I do not ever need to write another “But the butts don’t match” article ever again in my life.” Jason snorted at that, cracking up laughing, and when he googled “The Butts don’t match”, he had to pause his boys because the ensuing hyena laugh had him flat on his back for ten minutes, absolutely losing his shit.

“Oh Christ, I love the internet…”

—-

“Next theory. He’s a kid, he took a break from vigilante-ing to do something else.”

“Now see, I like this one; that’s like, the most wholesome version. I hope this is the real one, but…”

“I know, man. I know.”

“Sigh.”

—-

“Almost there. Some people believe the second and the third Robin are the same, although many people disagree, considering witness reports that they looked very different, and the Robins were very distinctive in their fighting style and personalities.” Jason snorted at that, shoveling a slice of pizza into his gullet, and even the boys were looking a bit annoyed at that theory, Shane more than Ryan.

“Question.”

“Yes?”

“How the hell do they know about fighting styles?!”

“Gotham City Police.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense now.”

“Also, apparently Commissioner Gordon likes the third Robin more, which tells me they’re definitely not the same.”

“Yeah, if anyone other than Batman would know, he would. What’s next?”

“This one is kinda great, but also a bit outrageous.”

“Ooooh, juicy. Spill the beans, Bergera!”

—-

“Some even believe that the second Robin is now the infamous Red Hood. Gothamites have been known to try to stalk the dude but it's never successful, and supposedly, even the Batfam won’t bother him.”

“I mean, that’s a cool story, but how true is it?”

“Considering the guy wears a red freakin’ helmet with eyeholes and no mouth, who knows how true it is?”

“Still a nicer story than the butts. And hey, Red Hood is pretty chill, man, I think he’s probably the best thing to hit Gotham in years.”

“You’re a Hoodie!”

“The fuck is a ‘Hoodie?”

“Red Hood groupie.”

“Uh, hell no, I just think he’s cool.”

“Uh huh…Well, folks, that ties up our deep dive into the murder of Jason Todd, and the disappearance of the second Robin. To date, this case remains…Unsolved.” As the quiet music that ushered in the ending screen and credits, Jason sat back, working his second slice of pizza, and chuckled a little to himself. If only they knew…well. His people knew who he was; old man Falcone figured it out the second day Jason had been home. The Narrows had welcomed their boy back…And they weren’t gonna tell anyone. They didn’t trust Gothamites, they didn’t trust the Bats…which was why Jason had carved out his place here again, with gunfire and brutal justice. They trusted him.

He turned YouTube over to something mindless, and padded over to the window, feeling the sunshine, weak though it was, break through the clouds and warm his skin. Jason leaned against the familiar brick, and opened the window, letting in a rush of cool air, reminiscent of spring.

It was good to be home.

#deathinthefamily #jason todd #red hood #batman #bruce wayne #selina kyle #damian wayne #dick grayson #barbara gordon #buzzfeed:unsolved #ryan bergera #shane madej #this is feels and crack #why do I write this

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lchufflepuffcorn · 4 years

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Being the batmom

Author’s note: Okay so, Batmom here. I want to say that it was posted two days before on my patreon (you can check it out here). I’M also present on ko-fi if you prefer. You can also catch my masterlist here if you want to read more of my things. Please feel free to request or ask any question you’d like.

Words: 2404

Warning: Fluff, a little of angst (it’s the batman fandom we’re talking about). English is not my first language.

Dick is eight and orphaned when he's taken in by Bruce Wayne, millionaire and philanthrope of Gotham City. This, by the way, is very different from the circus the poor boy was taken from after his parent's death. Dick is not feeling good about being taken in by that cold and distant man, and even less with the wife he has and is giving him so many warm smiles. That woman is not on Dick's right side, it feels like she wants to take his mother's place, and his mother's corpse isn't even cold yet. He doesn't like that at all.

When Dick tries to ask why Bruce as taken him in, the man either ignores him or tells him they'll talk about that at another time. And that Wayne's wife is still smiling warmly like his mother used to. He doesn't like it.

But as weeks go by and months follows, Dick starts seeing the looks (Y/N) is giving her husband when he ignores her. Dick doesn't respond when she speaks to him if he ignores her, then she can't take his mother's place, can she? He can sometimes catch low voices talking about him when he walks in the manor's cold corridors. He'll never admit it, but he still gets lots most of the time.

''He doesn't like me.'' Your voice says, and behind the nearly closed door, Dick stops walking to listen.

''He just lost his mother, give him some time, darling.'' Respond Bruce, and Dick can see him rub your back tenderly. He never saw that type of affection between the two of you before.

''But I've tried everything; he doesn't respond to me, even less look at me anymore. I don't know what else I can do.'' The sob in your voice makes Dick feel guilty, even more so because he knows that he's not supposed to hear this conversation. So he walks away without making sound and tries his best to go back to his room.

It does take him some more months before he can talk to you without seeing his mother's face instead of yours, but at least he's not ignoring you anymore. That's around that time that he becomes Robin.

And now he can see you fret. You're nervous when they leave, and you're ecstatic when they come back, he can catch you mutter angrily under your breath at Bruce when they come back with scratches and whatnots. For the first time in months, he feels warm. After it, he feels terrible for thinking of you as a good mother, because he feels like it's insulting his.

Dick is fifteen when he first gets too close to experiencing death. ANd it's you again that makes him realize that.

''Get him killed, why don't you!'' You growl in a whisper while bandaging Bruce in your room. ''We just got a kid, don't lose him just yet! I swear your worst than a child yourself.''

Dick sit's outside of your room to listen to you. Tonight's mission was particularly hard, and Bruce took a knife in the leg, pushing him out of the fight. So he wanted to thank him properly, and excuse himself. But your voice stopped the teenager from entering.

''I won't let him get killed, (Y/N)...'' tries to say the man, but you cut him before he finishes his sentence.

''You shouldn't have let him become your sidekick. It's too dangerous.''

''I had everything under control...'' tries Bruce again.

''You had nothing -nothing- under your control, Bruce. Richard could have died.''

''Dick is a bright kid...''

''Exactly, he's a kid!''

Your voice is not a whisper anymore. You're screaming, and Dick feels the same drops in his stomach than when his birth parents were fighting while he was supposed to be sleeping.

Dick is seventeen when his heart gets broken for the first time. And it's because of Bruce nonetheless. He feels betrayed and angry, and all he can think of is to leave the manor. He can't understand why Bruce would hide such a thing from him, his parent's killer. There's a part of him that wants to find a reasonable way to see that matter, but all the rest just want to punch the millionaire. That's when you come into the portrait.

Dick comes into your room one night when Bruce is still working. It's been weeks since they both talked last. The boy feels like a child all over again when you just open your arms at him.

''I'm sorry, Mom.'' It's the first time he calls you that. Your heart races for a little while at the word. But you don't ask questions even if you see his school bag balanced on his shoulder and the suitcase near your door.

''It's okay, you have some friends with you? Do you need money?'' Is all you ask. You can't really expect him to stay. You can understand the feeling of being betrayed. You've already talked to Bruce about it, but you'll have to do it again, that man is stubborn.

''Yeah, I just need some time.''

''It's okay.'' Dick wiggles out of your embrace, but before he can leave the bedroom, you call for him again. ''If you need anything, call me at any time, okay?''

Your boy just smiles and nods before exiting.

It's one or two years later that Bruce comes home with, let's say, a surprise. You were consulted before Dick entered the family, but now, apparently, it's just a way to numb Bruce's pain from missing your son. Dick still calls you, and you go around for breakfast most of the time, but Bruce and Dick are not on talking terms just yet.

The teenager Bruce brings back during the night is the same. He told you tried to steal the Batmobile tyres the week before. Are you feeling safe, not really, but Bruce seems to think he can help the boy, so you figure 'why not.' You're thirty-six now, and the boy doesn't look much older than Dick was when he was adopted.

As it's what the boy names himself, Jason is broody and, as a harsh, looks in his eyes, but your smile doesn't falter.

He gets comfortable around you. Comfortable enough to let you play with his hair when he has nightmares, let you hug him before he leaves for school, or for a mission and comfortable enough to sleep with his head on your shoulder while Bruces drives you from a party that the Wayne Enterprise held. Jason his a mama boy, and it shows, but he doesn't take well that you try to give him rules to follow.

It's Bruce who has more difficulties with that.

You try to talk to both of them, but each time, it's about the same answers.

''But, mom, I don't understand why we just arrest hi. He gets out every time! And he ends up hurting more people than the last time.''

''Jason, I can understand why you're frustrated about that. But life doesn't work that way. Murder is murder, even if the Joker is a bad person.''

Usually, that's enough for Jason to huff and leave the room until dinner.

When you try talking to Bruce about it, that's when it gets tricky.

''Maybe you could talk to him about it? He's still a kid after all...''

Bruce only shrugged.

''You think I don't try? He's not mature enough to understand. Dick understood...''

''Dick saw his parents get killed, but he too was angry when you lied about Zucco.'' You're angry now. It's always like this when Bruce talks about Jason, he's not as good as Dick, Dick was better, Dick was this, Dick was that. ''Jason is not Dick, Bruce, they're different.'' You leave your husband to the darkness of the bat-cave, so he can reflect on your words, once again. Sometimes, it's just better that way.

Contrarily to Richard, Jason is not one to take pictures with you, but you have some that were not made by journalists. They rest with Dick's photos on the principal living room's chimney, where you're always found reading or watching TV or painting and drawing. The one that has big windows and a magnificent view of the garden.

That's typically where Jason would find himself after a hard night of vigilanting with Bruce. He's tired, the mission that the Young Justice League just achieved had been both emotionally and physically tiring, and all your boy wants is a hug. That's how Bruce finds both of you in the living room, you, currently watching a TV show and Jason, head buried in your shoulder, practically sitting on your laps while your fingers were playing with a string of his hair.

Bruce called you on his way back from Ethiopia. And you cried a lot that night and the whole week after too. You can't bring yourself to look at the coffin, he's so small.

You can't talk to Bruce for a while, the mear thought of being in the same piece as he makes you want to cry. It's not Bruce's fault that Jason died, but he could have prevented it, and as a mother, you need to deal with your child's death alone.

Bruce's too changes after Jason's death, for example, his nightly missions are becoming even more bloody. That's when Dick calls you.

''Mom, I really think Bruce needs therapy.''

''You and I both, baby bird.''

You talk for sometimes before a voice cuts into your conversation.

''Who's that, Richard?''

''That, Mother, would be the next Robin.'' Your heart sinks toward your heels as you rise from your seat.

''Bruce doesn't want another. I don't want another... accident myself.''

There's a moment of silence on the line before Dick sighs.

''Just give Tim a chance, okay.'' You mumble under your breath, agreeing.

Tim is different from the others. For one, he has living parents. But that doesn't stop him from calling you his mama. When you ask, he answers that he calls his mother, mom, but you're his mama, because you chose him. He takes Jason's place in the Young Justice League, just like Jasons did with Dick.

That's until his mother dies and his father falls into a coma. Then Tim comes live with you for some time. Dick comes and goes at the same time, he starts talking to Bruce once more again. They're not as friendly as they once were, but Dick's smile brings back Tim's, so Bruce is happy about it too. Tim is the antidepressant that Bruce needed. Your husband did not see a therapist like you asked, but Black Canary tells you that he is way better than he once was.

Tim's father comes back from his coma, and he leaves your house to go back with him. Once again, your life becomes grey. Still, Dick and Barbara come once in a while to talk with you, and Alfred is actually very good at playing chess. Then, Tim's father dies too, and he comes back to the manor. You're thirty-seven now.

''Do you think we'll have children who are not traumatized by death and want to become like you?'' You ask one night as Bruce is getting ready to join you in bed. Even in the bathroom's dim light, you can see the bruises that he seems to collects on his back and arms and legs. Also, his chest seems covered in blue discolorations.

What you're not aware of are Tim's microchips as installed all around the house and that he's listening.

''Why, you don't like the lifestyle?'' Question's Bruce back, a smirk on his lips.

Tim focuses on the sound coming from your bedroom, he's suddenly curious. From the news and the way Dick talks about you, you're a really nice woman, and Tim's experience with you proves it, but he wants to know more about what you think of this lifestyle like Bruce said.

''You know what I mean...'' you start again, but Tim can hear the smile in your voice. ''I just think that they shouldn't be heroes. They're children... it's a dangerous lifestyle.''

Bruce sighs and comes to join you on the bed, but just like you are under the covers, he's on top of them. He kisses your nose gently before rolling to his place next to you.

''I never forced any of them, you know.''

''I know.'' Your hand brushes again, his chest tenderly. '' It's just that I never thought having children would be this dangerous. I just want a normal family...''

At that, Bruce only answers by bringing your hand to his mouth and kiss it.

That night is when Red Hood appeared.

It was all crazy time between Red Hood and apparently Jason was back, and Tim was angry at Bruce, and now Bruce had a blood-related child of his own? Now that you didn't take it very well. And Bruce couldn't really explain either. But the kid seems to find you interesting.

First of all, Grayson talk only kindly about you, so of course he's curious, not that he gives much concern about what Dick thinks. Though he's not home often, Jason is always lovely with you, weakness, but at the same time, you do have a gorgeous smile that makes the child want your hugs too. Tim -now, Tim is not Damian's favourite, but he does have some interest. And Tim is head-over-heels about you.

Most of all, the three boys call you a variant of 'mother,' Barbara is always smiling when she comes home, and you're there, which is not the case when it's only his father, and Alfred had nothing but good things to say about you when he asked.

Damian's pretty sure that you're the one who made his father agree about the cow he's keeping. But there are still no shreds of evidence of this certitude yet.

Damian's still trying to see up to where he can push things with you. As of yesterday, when he called you 'Umi' and you didn't react except for answering, ''Yes?'' he still doesn't know if it's because you were the only one in the room so you answered or if it's because you know what that word means. So he'll have to experiment again.

In short, being the Batmom is being a nervous wreck who likes hugs and is full of patience for both your husband and children.

#Batman #batman imagines #Bruce wayne x reader #fem!reader #x reader imagines #batmom imagines #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #robin x reader #robins x batmom #red hood x reader #red robin x reader #batman x reader #nightwing x reader #barbara gordon x reader #alfred pennyworth #justice league imagine

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bamfdaddio · 3 years

Text

X-Men Abridged: 1969

The X-Men, those dino-obsessed mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 52 - 63) - written by Arnold Drake, Roy Thomas, Linda Fite and Don Heck, drawn by Werner Roth, Barry Smith, Tom Palmer and Neal Adams.

step aside, Wall-E, these Sentinels have nothing on your range of emotions (X-Men 59)

When we last left our X-Men, they were smack-dab in the middle of a big, convoluted plot! Let me refresh your memory:

The X-Men had to beat a hasty retreat;

Polaris had joined her father Magneto

Magneto was injured;

Iceman had quit the team because he still had faith in Polaris;

Eric the Red appeared, making overtures towards Magneto.

And the whirlwind continues! The X-Men (sans Iceman and Cyclops) sneak back into Magneto’s base! Eric the Red reveals himself to be Cyclops! They set a trap for Mesmero! Which is sprung by the wayward Iceman! But he has pertinent information! Lorna is not Magneto’s daughter, she’s just an orphan! Bobby (hilariously) has the papers to prove it!

magneto has now fucked up the relationships he has with all of his children before any of them knew he was their father. mad props (X-Men 52)

Lorna breathes a sigh or relief, glad that she doesn’t have to be evil anymore. (Because obviously, evil is hereditary. And even though she keeps sensing everyone’s ‘evil vibrations’, she stayed with Magneto out of her own volition. SO.) Without Polaris’ power to back them up, Magneto and Mesmero flee.

After this, the X-Men come back to live at the mansion again. No muss, no fuss. Roy Thomas, who’s returning to the book, wastes very little time undoing some stupid decisions made last year. In fact, 1969 has a pretty strong showing, with plotlines flowing almost naturally into one another, a bigger cast and the introduction of one of my favourite villains. It’s pretty palatable.

The one snag is a superfluous issue where the X-Men fight Blastaar and Jean kills someone. (Never comes up again, don’t sweat it.) I wouldn’t even mention it, were it not for this moment where Jean uses some super duper mind machine:

does this remind you of... anything? no? just me then (X-Men 53)

So, anyway, remember Scott’s beloved brother Alex?

i love that jean is all smiles about scotts terrible and all-encompassing ability to repress everything (X-Men 54)

I can sort of understand why that whole third Summers brother was such a huge secret for so long, considering Alex was not even kept a mystery and it still took SIX YEARS for him to be revealed.

Alex is barely introduced before he gets the old plot-bat to the face, getting mixed up in a fight when some pharaoh claims all mutants are pharaohs, being children of the Sun? Apparently, all of them are powered by cosmic rays i.e. the sunlight. Alex is kidnapped, as is Cyclops, and just as Cyclops ponders how happy he is that Alex is not a mutant despite him having the X-Gene, he is attacked by the pharaoh and Alex saves his brother using newly minted energy powers! Oh, the irony.

when I say that I want Alex to wear his old costume, I obviously mean this sexy Egyptian skirt-ensemble (X-Men 55)

Alex and the pharaoh are apparently two sides of the same coin, being charged by the same cosmic rays: when one waxes, the other wanes. The pharaoh locks Alex away in a tomb, cutting him off from those sweet, sweet sunbeams and taking all the power for himself. Like a Power Ranger villain, he grows in size and becomes… the Living Monolith! The X-Men take him down while Alex accidentally blows up the Living Monolith’s temple.

Alex, afraid of his own power, flees into the desert and is apprehended by… the Sentinels?! Surprise, bitch! Lorna is also abducted by them out of her New York apartment. Their next victim is Iceman, and they deliver him to… Larry Trask! (Son of.)

My favorite thing about Sentinels is that, despite the fact that they are objectively huge, they are still able to sneak up on people. Apparently, these murderous periwinkle toaster ovens are so quiet, you only notice when they rip open a roof to get at you. (X-Men 59)

Larry Trask hates mutants because:

They killed his father;

He’s a racist.

Determined not to repeat the sins of his father, Larry has a helmet with which he can use to take direct control of the sentinels, so hopefully they won’t rise up and rebel this time. Somewhere, Asimov is rolling his eyes.

On live television, Larry Trask baits Iceman into attacking him, trying to smear him and mutantkind in general. In the mean time, the Sentinels strike everywhere, taking Unus, Angel, Banshee, the Living Monolith… Even Wanda and Pietro. It´s a literal who´s who of sixties mutandom! The only exempt ones are the Changeling and Magneto, the latter only because he’s been a robot for a while now. Mesmero is just as shocked by this unnecessary retcon as we are.

Just as Larry orders the Sentinels to kill every mutant in the compound (including Bobby, Lorna and Alex), a family heirloom is ripped off his neck. Apparently, this medallion was some kind of protection: the late Bolivar Trask knew little Larry was a mutant and tried to hide this fact from the Sentinels.

The Sentinels turn on Larry faster than you can say “Is being betrayed by AI a hereditary trait?” The X-Men intervene and, after unleashing the might of Havok, they end up in a debate with the Sentinels, turning their own logic against them:

Protecting humans is more important than killing mutants.

So, to protect humanity, they must destroy the cause of mutation.

The Sentinels promptly launch themselves into the sun. Neat.

On a side note, the relationship between Jean and Scott is shelved for now? It seems like they’re dating, but also not? It’s such weird storytelling, especially because their annoying will they or won’t they has gotten so much focus in the past and the relationship between Lorna and Bobby is crystal clear:

Scott. Jean. Is it really going to take Chris Claremont to DTR you two? Fuck’s sake (X-Men 60)

Because Havok’s powers still threaten to overwhelm him, the X-Men contact a former colleague of Professor X… Professor Lykos.

Let me tell you about the sheer, amazing sixties wonder that is Professor Lykos. Originally, Thomas envisioned him as a vampire, but the Comics Code forbade vampires. So, instead, Lykos ends up a human who was bitten by a magical pterodactyl at a young age and who can only survive by draining other people’s life force. He can also hypnotize people into doing his bidding.

Yes.

Lykos suspects mutants might be the cure to his strange, strange ailment, and begins to drain Alex. But to his (and our) sheer delight, he turns into a pterodactyl!

I just love this damn idiot so much (X-Men 60)

Be like Sauron! Choose evil!

The X-Men barely figure in this plot. Ordinarily, I’d be bothered by the fact that these three issues are more about the villain than the heroes, but given that it’s Sauron, I’ll let it slide.

See, Sauron’s tale is a tragic one. Not only is he a weird pterovampire, he is also in love with a sweet girl whose father forbids him from seeing Dr. Lykos, because he is… poor! Gasp! (Those billionaires, not even a doctor is good enough for their daughters.) Sauron, slightly corrupted by his dino-side, realize that it’s a lot easier to just kill Tanya’s father than to impress him by robbing banks for cash.

When he attacks the man and sees the reaction of his star-crossed lover, Lykos realizes Sauron is far too much in control. Sauron is too evil! Lykos/Sauron promptly flees to a cold, distant region, the same place where he got bitten all those years ago, figuring he’ll stay in isolation and starve himself of the human energy he needs. But, just as he is utterly ravenously out of his mind, Tanya finds him! In order to protect her, Sauron sacrifices himself by throwing himself off the mountain… straight into the Savage Land..

The X-Men (sans Angel) follow him into the Savage Land. (It’s unclear why? To retrieve his corpse? Annoyingly, in the next arc, Sauron is not brought up again.) There, they run into Ka-Zar, who’s embroiled in a fight with… prehistoric mutants?

Angel, meanwhile, follows the X-Men in their footsteps, only to end up on the other side of the fight, with a strange white-haired man named the Creator who claims to be the mentor of these Savage Land mutates. Angel pledges him his wings, gets a snazzy new suit and flies off to fight the X-Men. Only then does the man secretly reveal himself: he’s… Magneto! (The true one, not a robot.) And he wishes to rule the savage land!

Angel and the other X-Men briefly fight, but soon the situation is sorted out and the X-Men go and confront the Creator. Magneto, who is way too hammy to ever hide his true nature for too long, reveals himself and the fact that he created these… mutates, including the creepy Brainchild. (He’ll become important later.) The X-Men defeat Magneto and he seemingly dies again.

Without Magneto there, the mutates revert to just being regular cave(wo)men:

I love that Ka-Zar, WHO HAILS FROM THE SAVAGE LAND HIMSELF, has no scruples othering his own kin. (X-Men 63)

The comic accidentally ends on a sad note: the X-Men confessing that they’d give up on their powers in a heartbeat. Not to nitpick, but while I buy that coming from Beast and Cyclops, this issue is less clear-cut when it comes to Jean and Bobby, who have a much better handle on their powers and, more importantly, present as human. It could potentially be an interesting issue to explore, but instead, it is swept under the rug, presenting the team (once again) as a boring but unified front. It remains one of my critiques of this era: the X-Men barely get fleshed out as individuals, other than the broadest of strokes (Leader; Rich Boy; Joker; Smart Guy; Girl). Pity.

Didn’t you take Art History? One thing that has definitely improved is the overall art-style. Artists experiment with panels and splash pages, stepping out of the traditional 2 by 3-grid that Kirby loved so much. It makes the stories more dynamic and, because the writers get more issues to tell their stories, the artists get more space to do their art.

I mean, check this ish out:

Fuck yeah, mental powers represent. (X-Men 57)

Ugliest Costume: None! I really like Havok’s black bodysuit with white stripes and the Sentinels design looks so much less dorkier than before. A+.

Best new character: Sauron, duh. Does he team-up with Dr. Doom at some point? That would be some ham-to-ham combat.

Most audacious retcon: There’s a second Summers brother?

What to read: 57 to 59, which is the plotline dealing with the much improved Sentinels. 60 and 61 if you have a soft spot for vampiric pterodactyls.

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

Text

Uncanny // Yandere! Joker x Reader//

This is a Christmas gift for @writerbyaccident I hope you enjoy it darling! This also markes my frist ever DC fic, I’ll definitely be writting more of these in the future but for now, enjoy this one!

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Joker had always harbored passionate hate for the wealthy first-class citizens of Gotham. Those who wasted the days mingling at extravagant parties, engaging in brainless conversations about the rise and fall of stocks and the new designer stores that had just opened. It made him feel sick to his core. These halfwits were the elites of Gotham? Those who held the entire dark city in the palms of their hands? These cowards who’d run and hide in their lavish mouse holes with their tails tucked between their legs at the first sight of danger. They ruled this city and walked all over the common folk. They truly did disgust him.

It came as a shock to Joker how he’d managed to keep the bile from raising from his stomachs. He’d been lurking in the shadows of Wayne’s penthouse in search of the notorious Harvey Dent.

His hickory brown eyes scanned the crowd once more. Where was he? One of these overconfident fools must be the so-called ‘white knight’.

For a split second his eyes landed on something. In the far back of the crowd, slightly curling into themselves was a (petite/tall) girl in a dress whose colors were unclear bordering somewhere between Crayola and iris. A tiny unaudible laugh escaped the jokers cut lips. What a bold choice of clothing! My it could start a world dilemma! Was it blue or purple, who could tell? The world might just dividers into two forces starting riots and wars over the simple piece of clothing! The blues would start (cause everyone knows purples are too lazy) with throwing polttopullos at the purples fortresses. The poor purples would scatter screaming as the sound of their flesh sizzling polluted the air. Soon a huge war would break out setting the world ablaze consuming the filthy souls of its participants.

“….boss?”

The hushed murmur of a lackey jolted the clown back to head-splitting reality. He jumped slightly letting out a fit of small giggles. Turning his head he noticed the boy stretching his head out to the side. Finally, it was showtime!

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen we are tonight’s entertainment!"

Joker sauntered out of the darknesses, gun in hand and smirk plastered on his scarred lips. The crowd stopped, freezing in place. Champaign cups fell to the ground, women reached out grabbing the closest person’s hand, releasing their shock and terror through physical touch other than audible noise. A truly magnificent sight!

To further the people's discomfort and alleviate his amusement he plucked a flower from a nearby vase and bite it's head off, chewing and continuing his announcement.

"I only have one question where is, Harvey Dent?"

The question lingered in the air, infested with dead silence. They really where spinless weren't they? He marched around the semi-circle of the crowds head. Pointing his gun and the odd person and swinging it around threateningly. He ripped the wine class form a young girl in a black nightgown. Spilling the contents on the ground and gulping up the empty air.

"Do you know where Harvey is?" he said while poking a random waitress. "Do you know who he is?" never once did he wait for a reply. This wasn't working! He forcefully gripped the face of a short bold man patting his greasy head. The stream of questions slipped from his mouth like a mantra. Come on! Someone say something! This was getting boring!

"You know I'll settle for his loved ones!" This was vexing. Crashing a party this big was meant to be fun! Yet no one seemed at all interested in playing his game.

"We're not intimidated by thugs!" So someone did have the guts to speak up! Let the games began than!

Joker slowly turned eyes locking with an elderly man in a charcoal black three-piece suit. Something about him looked familiar... too familiar. Joker bit his tongue trying to anchor his wondering mind as the man's face slowly morphed and twisted into someone younger with a rugged face. Someone who reeked of cheap alcohol and open wounds.

"You remind me of my father..."

He grabbed the man by the collar dragging him closer. "Slit his throat!" "gut him!" "Goudge his eyes out!" "let him bleed on the floor!" The voices wouldn't shut up they screamed and shrieked.

"I HATED my father!"

The voices started screaming again. His hand moved on it’s own clutching the knife with too much force, inching it closer and closer to the man's wrinkled flesh. The sharp tip poked his cheek ready to began cutting downwards until...

"Okay, that's enough!"

A tall woman walked forward head help high and shoulders back. She was tense it was practically spilling off of her. Behind her, another figure held her hand clasping it until it turned red. It was that girl, Joker noticed. The one with the dilemma dress. She didn't try to hide her nervousness, she was being honest and yet here she was facing a mad killer in front of a crowd. The girl had guts he'd give her that.

Ignoring Harvey's little lover Joker faced you crazed orbs bearing into your soul. He walked closer licking the inside of his permanent smile. He messily combed his hair back with the pocket knife. He turned behind Rachel reaching out directly for your neck "My, my what a beautiful thing you are". You clawed at his gloved hand trying desperately to free yourself. "Let her go!" Rachel yelled, "It's me you want, she has nothing to do with this!" Joker raised an eyebrow tugging you closer for a moment before he pushed you to the ground.

You coughed, lunges sucking in as much oxygen as possible. Your fingers faintly traced where his hand had been mere moments ago. Your eyes looked up staring at the mad clown who was gripping onto Rachel and dragging her through the crowd. Glass shattered and another loud noise filled the air. Someone else was pushing past the guests headed straight for the Joker and his captive.

Batman!

He'd arrived! He was going to save everyone! He was going to save your dearest friend--

He was pushed back, inches away from you. A group of thugs jumped him, climbing on his back and leaving gashes with dull knives. No, no, no! How was he going to save her in time?

Looking back at the bat’s hopless struggle, you jumped up runing forward, who knew what that monster would do to her if someone didn't interfere. Batman was busy, everyone else was frozen and starring to scared to move. You where all that was left, you had to do something!

Joker pressed the blade to the girl's mouth laughing as she tried to struggle away. "You know-"

something jammed at him form the side. He flew back catching himself on the metal frame of the broken window. There she was again the bizarre girl! So she wanted to play hero um... he'd show her what happens to heroes. Using a momentum he flung himself forward, in rabid steps he grabbed Rachel's arm throwing her out the window. When the bat came rushing by following the falling girl, he dodged forward throwing himself onto the girl in the odd dress. Her head bounced on the ground and rolled to the side. Out cold, how perfect the Joker thought.

It had been a few weeks since that party since the clown prince of crime stole you away. He'd locked you in a room with no windows and only beaten down furniture as companions. The sole wooden door was locked, even when he paid you a visit he'd turn the lock behind him. "Simple precaution" he'd always say.

The visits had started off rocky. When you'd first came to, you'd tried to punch and kick him away, screaming for help until he'd slapped you across the face and left an angry scar on your right arm. The next day he'd offered you food, which -despite your pride- you'd gulped down as he made some joke about orphans and restaurants. Things went quiet after that, he'd visite once a day and do nothing more than stare at you. It freaked you out to the point of crying. That's when he'd come closer and wrap his arms around you. Whispering shhs and "I've got yous". They never made you feel better and soon he'd just leave you and slam the door. But slowly he started staying longer and cracking the occasional joke when you began to cry. You started crying less, leaning more into his touch, clinging onto his words. By no means was it ideal, yet it was all both of you had.

About two days ago he'd entered your room with a black eye and far too many bleeding cuts to count. He plumped onto the couch, his blood staining the old fabric.

"Need help?" you'd asked. He'd turn to his side and eyed you up and down. "This some sort of joke?" you simply shook your head. Coughing up a smug language he murmured "you'd help your kidnapper? You’re one weird gal you know that (Y/N)?" You said nothing for an endless minute, waiting as time slipped you both by.

"Guess you could say I'm a few screws lose.."

He laughed, it was an odd nose nothing like his usual one. It was loud and throaty and one could say it came directly from his heart.

Joker may have found the upper-class citizens of Gotham to be spinless fools, he may have hated the normal residents for thier lack of ambtion and blood lust. But you, you were something else. You where uncanny and dame did he love that.You where the one who couldn't pick a dress shade or fit into a crowd, the one who faced him and tried to save a worthless girl. Yeah, you where something uncanny, different, magnificent, pure and most importantly...

ALL HIS

#yandere #joker #yandere joker #I'll add more tags tomorrow when I wake up

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elfroot-and-stars · 5 years

Text

Another Birthday (MShenko)

April 11, 2154: Happy birthday Commander Shepard!

Commander Shepard had never been big on celebrating his birthday. An orphan from earth, he’d never exactly had a family to celebrate with.

Even once he was part of the Alliance, the most he ever really did was go out for drinks with his crew. His birthday wasn’t a big deal to him; he acknowledged another year of life, and got back to living.

It was rare for him to be on shore leave during his birthday, but it happened to line up that way this year. His crew had insisted on going out for drinks, so Shepard now sat at the bar, a pleasant buzz of intoxication starting to blanket him.

He was trying not to get too wasted. Someone had to keep the crew under control, after all. He’d already had to stop Grunt from fighting some poor turian that bumped into him. Tali was wasted, dancing with Samantha, who was also well into her drinks. EDI was trying to convince Joker to slow down as he took another shot at the bar. Steve and James were arm wrestling to see who would buy the next round. The others were gathered together, talking far too loudly.

Shepard shook his head a little, hiding a smile with his drink. He didn’t much care for his birthday, but he was glad to see his friends relaxing and having fun. He was glad some of his old crewmates had joined the celebration.

“How is it the birthday boy is the most sober person in the bar?”

A hand came to rest on Shepard’s shoulder. He looked up at Kaidan, who set another drink down next to him.

“You’re looking pretty sober yourself,” Shepard pointed out, accepting the drink.

Now Kaidan shifted nervously. “Actually, that’s because I can’t stay. I’m sorry, John. I have work to do.”

“On shore leave?” Shepard said.

Kaidan nodded. “A few things to tie up while we’re on the Citadel. If I could put it off until tomorrow, I would, but…”

Shepard shrugged, hiding his disappointment with ease. They were soldiers with responsibilities, and he understood that, even if he’d been hoping to spend time with Kaidan later.

“Duty calls,” he said instead, and offered a smile. “Don’t give me that look. It’s not a big deal, Kaidan.”

“But it’s your birthday,” Kaidan protested.

“And? This just means you need to watch my back so you can make it up to me next year,” Shepard said.

“Deal,” Kaidan said, squeezing Shepard’s shoulder. “Happy birthday. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“If I’m not horrendously hungover,” Shepard said, relieved as Kaidan laughed.

“Alright. Enjoy your party,” Kaidan said, his voice serious. “You’ve earned it.”

Shepard watched him leave the bar, and buried himself in the drink Kaidan had left behind. Garrus approached, tugging on his arm.

“Come on. You’re not sulking at the bar on your birthday. You’re going to have another shot and dance with everyone. Then you’ll regret it tomorrow when you see vids of it,” he said.

“Encouraging,” Shepard said, but followed Garrus out to the others.

Everyone wanted to dance with him and give him drinks. He tried to pace himself, relieved when EDI brought him several water bottles to rotate through.

But the drinks made his mind fog and his mood lift, so he allowed himself to give in more than usual. He laughed and joked and danced, not even concerned if there would be embarrassing vids tomorrow. His friends cheered him on, shouting out drunken cries of “Happy birthday Shepard” and slapping him on the back every time he accepted another drink from them.

It was nice. Shepard couldn’t remember having so much fun on his birthday before, his friends constantly reminding him that his birthday was the reason they were even celebrating. They were determined not to let him wave it off.

But as the night went on, too many drinks sent some of the crew home to sleep it off, or puke their brains out. They wished him happy birthday as they left, and soon Shepard himself was stumbling back to the apartment.

He fumbled with the lock before managing to get it open and going inside. It was dark, and he shut the door, not bothering to turn on the lights. The alcohol in his system was whispering to call Kaidan, but the reasonable part of him- small as it was at the moment –said to go to bed and wait for Kaidan to call him in the morning.

“Shit,” Shepard hissed as he banged his leg against a chair in the dark.

“Another year older, but not another year wiser.”

Shepard spun around in surprise, nearly falling over. He caught himself on the offending chair and squinted into the darkness.

“Kaidan?” he said, wondering just how drunk he really was.

But the lights came on and Kaidan came over to him. “I haven’t been here long. I turned the lights off when I saw you coming. I wanted to surprise you.”

“I thought you were busy,” Shepard said.

“I finished what I needed to do. I want to spend the night with you,” Kaidan said, putting his arms around Shepard and holding him steady. “I’m sorry I had to leave early. Did you have fun, at least?”

“Yea,” Shepard said, smiling at the memories from the night. “Had to stop Liara from using her biotics to throw James out the window, but that’s nothing too out of the ordinary.” He put a hand on Kaidan’s back, pulling him closer to kiss him.

“You seem happy,” Kaidan said hopefully.

“I am,” Shepard confirmed, smile growing. He was happy. They’d gone out to celebrate his life. A life he’d struggled so hard to make meaningful. To fill with purpose. They’d proved to him he’d done it; he’d worked so hard and at the end of another year of life he got to laugh and drink with the best friends he’d ever known.

And now he had an even better end to the night. Kaidan was here, and that filled him with a warmth that had nothing to do with the liquor.

He kissed Kaidan again, and Kaidan could taste the liquor on Shepard’s lips. He gently pushed on Shepard’s chest. He wanted to give him his gift before things got more intense.

“I have a present for you,” he said.

Shepard cocked his head to the side curiously. “Why? I don’t need anything.”

“It’s your birthday,” Kaidan reminded. “Of course I got you a gift.”

Shepard leaned against the couch as Kaidan went to retrieve this gift. His friends had gifted him model ships, exotic fish for his cabin, bottles of alcohol, small things for his apartment, and even weapons (Garrus had been particularly excited for Shepard to open the sniper rifle he’d bought, and challenged him to another shooting match on the Citadel- Liara had to frantically stop them from doing it right at the moment).

Kaidan returned and held a box out to Shepard. Shepard took it and sat on the couch, Kaidan taking a seat next to him.

Shepard unwrapped the gift and stared down at it in surprise. He ran his fingers over the object in front of him.

“It…” Kaidan dropped his gaze and put a hand on Shepard’s thigh. “It’s not exactly romantic. That’s part of the SR-1. That’s where we grew close, John. Something about talking to you on that ship made me so comfortable and so anxious all at once.” He laughed and shook his head. “It took me a while to figure out the reason why.” He squeezed Shepard’s thigh.

Shepard lifted the piece of the ship, just a small fragment of something he’d considered home. He’d died when that ship was attacked, but his thoughts didn’t stray there as he held the piece of ship in his hands. Instead, he thought of seeking Kaidan out after missions, always looking for an excuse to talk to him.

He thought of all the good times they’d had on the SR-1. The bonds they’d formed.

“Thank you,” Shepard said, holding the fragment tighter in his hands. “It’s been a crazy few years.”

“It certainly has,” Kaidan said, leaning over to kiss Shepard. “But there’s one more thing.”

Shepard looked down at the box again, realizing there was something taped to the side of it. He pried it off, tearing away the wrapping paper.

What was left in his hands was a simple, framed photograph. But in it, he and Kaidan stood side by side, laughing, dressed neatly in suits.

“I’m kind of terrible at this whole gift thing. A piece of the ship you died on, and a picture from that time your clone tried to kill you,” Kaidan said, letting out a nervous laugh and rubbing the back of his neck. “It was in an article about the event. We don’t have a lot of pictures together. But I wanted you to have something.”

“Let’s fix that,” Shepard said, turning to Kaidan. “This picture is great. You look amazing in a suit. But let’s take a picture now, Kaidan.”

Kaidan seemed surprised, but he slid closer to Shepard. They arranged themselves on the couch, and took a picture. Shepard had never been one for these little trinkets of memory, but this felt important to him.

They lived dangerous lives. He wasn’t promised another birthday. He wanted proof that he and Kaidan had been here in this moment, long after it had passed.

They found themselves sharing kisses as Shepard set his gifts aside. They made their way upstairs, to Shepard’s bed, falling on it with trailing hands and eager mouths.

“Happy birthday, John Shepard. I love you,” Kaidan said.

Shepard pulled Kaidan closer. He hoped he did get another birthday, so he could spend it with his loved ones like this again.

(You can read more of my work on AO3 here!)

#Mass Effect #shenko #mshenko #shepard x kaidan #Kaidan Alenko #commander shepard #my post #my writing

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satire-please · 6 years

Text

Take a Sad Song and Make it Better - Part 6

Day 6 - Best Rescue = A dire moment where someone comes through.

What would Bruce do without his boys?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

It’s a den of wolves, a collection of monsters of the vilest kind.

Hungry, persistent thugs with the shiniest of teeth.

It’s not a fight Bruce can punch his way out of.

In fact, he’s not allowed to punch anyone. Not with the saccharine smile he has to, needs to keep on his face.

“Mr. Wayne, Mr. Wayne can we get a statement for the Gotham Gazette?”

“Mr. Wayne, is it true today marks the thirtieth anniversary of your parents’ death?”

“Mr. Wayne, Do you think the Wayne legacy is still going strong? Or is it decaying each year?”

“Mr. Wayne–”

They’re worse than vultures. At least birds of prey stop picking at the bones once there’s no meat. But reporters keep unburying his dead, to check for marrow, to check over and over how Bruce Wayne feels. They want the story. They want to hear the story. It doesn’t matter how many times they’ve had it, they want it again. Bruce would rather be strapped to a chair by Joker than stay here another minute.

“Mr. Wayne, how do you think the late Mrs. Wayne would feel about your perpetual state of bachelorhood?”

At least then he could growl at his tormentors.

This was supposed to be a simple charity event, yes at an orphanage, which may have been his mistake. Like blood in the water, once a hint of the date got out, once they connected the dots…

Instead of one or two journalists to report the event, there’s fifteen.

Bruce hates them.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” He cajoles with a laugh, “You already know all this. What’s the point of investigating this old playboy? The event of the night is over there! After all isn’t that why we’re all here? To sponsor and support those poor children in need?”

They can smell the unease, they shift gears and attack.

“Does that mean you plan to adopt a new ward?”

“Do you have a preference, Mr. Wayne? All your kids are black-haired boys.”

“What about a girl, Mr. Wayne!”

He’s never going to introduce them to Cass. Never. Bruce looks around, but the gang armed with microphones and cameras has firmly cornered him. His back pressed to the wall, and the fist in his coat pocket tightens. He clings to Brucie’s persona like a well-worn suit of armor.

“Come on now, don’t you think four kids is enough? You sound like child-hungry grannies.” Brucie smirks at them.

“But one of them is dead!”

The smirk drops.

The cameras zoom in to catch the flash in his eyes. The mob presses closer. Gluttonous men and women in Sunday best lick their lips at the crack of unknown emotion. “Oh, what happened to the circus kid? Why don’t we see him much anymore?”

Bruce evades with the best of them, “Maybe he’s outgrown Gotham, ever think about that? After all, I didn’t stay in Gotham when I was his age. I wanted to see the world. Dickie’s just following in his old man’s steps.”

They aren’t going to beat him at this game.

“But what of your third ward? Timothy Drake is–”

“Timothy Drake Wayne,” Bruce emphasizes strongly.

“What would your father think? Wouldn’t he think he’s running Wayne Enterprises into the ground? Last week, stocks dropped three points–”

“Three points in sales after raising fifteen points just last month.” A well-dressed man worms himself between Bruce’s chest and the crowd, “Honestly Mr. Colblair, I don’t know what you want more from me. If we compare stock prices from thirty years ago to now, the overall value of the company has gone up forty percent.”

Tim. Bruce feels his muscles slack. CEO of Wayne Enterprises grins boyishly on crunches before them. His hair rakishly falls in front of his face and a bunch of cameras go off immediately.

“Mr. Drake!”

“Mr. Drake Wayne, please.” Tim wobbles slightly forward on the crutches, putting himself directly in the middle of the mass. Slowly breaking it up. Genius really. “Or Tiny Tim, don’t I play the part?”

There is a round of polite laughter. Tim nudges the side of Bruce’s shoe with his. A hidden signal of ‘follow me.’

“But really, if you want a real interview I have some wonderful kids for you to meet! Please, the more positive publicity these orphans get, the more likely they’ll find stable homes of their own.”

Some of the new anchors twitch uncomfortably. Tim balances on one arm brace, Bruce grabbing his shoulder to stead him, the act is fake but the look of gratitude on Tim’s face is real.

It’s a good photo opp. Wow, his former Robin is good.

“Ms. Carol, Journalist of a Taste of Home, correct?”

“Y-Yes, Mr. Drake Wayne?”

He points to a little girl at the refreshments table, “Darling Natasha over there, baked many of the sugary delights for tonight’s event! One of her recipes would give your readers all the puff and fluff they need.”

Shamefaced the woman leaves. That makes fourteen left.

“Dr. Raymond, I thought your focus was collecting tidbits for SciShow? I’d like you to meet Eric...” Tim rambles off and directs another journalist away.

Steadily, Tim carves a path through the crowd. Cheerfully chirping suggestions and sassy commentary with Bruce trailing behind him. He can’t get rid of all of them, but the two get to the edge of the horde unscathed.

Bruce is so grateful, he might give the cameras the hug they’re always dying to see.

Instead, another form taps his foot impatiently, “Father, I demand your presence immediately.”

Damian Wayne is dubbed Gotham’s Spoiled Little Prince for a reason. Arms crossed under his red bow tie, half their audience coos, and chuckles at his scowl. It’s Gotham, so there’s nothing the people like more than a character.

And Damian’s stuffed to the brim with it.

“Yes, Dami? How can I help you, my boy?” Bruce reluctantly lets Tim go, lets him readjust the crutches for an injury he doesn’t have. A redhead woman eagerly leans to take in the scene. It makes Bruce need to duck his head. Anything to hide his disdain. Brucie is a mask he developed over the years for survival, but the act Tim has to put on is all because of one Vicki Vale.

“You can help me by keeping your promises. You were supposed to start assisting me with my research project an hour ago.”

Tim covers his mouth as Bruce gives Damian a guilty frown, “Sorry sport, I didn’t mean to get tied down.”

“Apologies mean nothing.” The preteen sniffs haughtily. “Walk me down to the car now.”

“You better go,” Tim says demurely. He leans in with a mock whisper. “Before he gets fussy.”

Damian clicks his tongue in a show of displeasure. He plops his hands on his hips and the cameras go wild.

Bruce is this close to cracking.

Dick has always been a media darling, but Tim and Damian can run circles around this crowd all night.

“Don’t worry, I handle things here,” Tim says with a wink. He turns and puts Bruce at his back, facing the army of sharks on his own. “Now what was I saying again, Ms. Vale?”

They leave the orphanage, leave Tim behind to dazzle and direct the event the way it should be. Bruce makes a note to send Alfred in an hour and a half, he noticed the dark circles under the makeup. Tim’s running on fumes again. He needs a sleep day.

Alfred’s the best one to convince him to take it.

Tim deserves it.

Especially after a rescue like that.

But for now Bruce, no the Bat focuses on his other savior, “So what’s this ‘research project’ you need me for?”

Damian’s teeth are shiny and sharp in the dark. He’s sure his son could tear out throats with them. When they get in the car and he just hands him the cowl.

“Oh just blood spatter analysis on 123rd street, I’ve been practicing my identification.”

“Just like I taught you?”

“Of course, Batman.”

“Good, Robin.”

Bruce takes off Brucie and puts on the Bat. He’s got the best toys and the best boys.

“Now let’s go.”

#BatfamBigBang #Batfam Big Bang #my writing #batfamily #day six rescue #a different kind of rescue #bruce wayne #Bruce needs his kids #the media are sharks

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quotespicture · 5 years

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https://quoteswithpicture.com/best-quotes-from-the-dark-knight-trilogy-why-so-serious/

Best Quotes from The Dark Knight Trilogy – ‘Why so serious?’

Here is our list of the best quotes from Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Trilogy, which are ranked as some of the greatest superhero movies made.

1. Batman Begins (2005)

Nolan’s birth of Batman, in an origin story where we follow Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) traveling to the Far East, to train in the martial arts by Ra’s al Ghul (Liam Neeson), a member of the mysterious League of Shadows. When Ghul reveals the League’s true purpose, the complete destruction of Gotham City, Wayne returns to Gotham intent on cleaning up the city without resorting to murder. With the help of his loyal butler, Alfred (Michael Caine), and Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), a tech expert at Wayne Enterprises, Batman is born.

‘Your anger gives you great power. But if you let it, it will destroy you.’ – Ra’s al Ghul (Batman Begins) Click To Tweet

[Bruce looks defeated as Wayne Manor is burning down] Bruce Wayne: I wanted to save Gotham. I failed. Alfred Pennyworth: Why do we fall sir? So that we can learn to pick ourselves up. Bruce Wayne: You still haven’t given up on me? Alfred Pennyworth: Never.

Bruce Wayne: People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy and I can’t do that as Bruce Wayne. As a man, I’m flesh and blood, I can be ignored, I can be destroyed; but as a symbol, as a symbol I can be incorruptible, I can be everlasting.

Rachel Dawes: Wait! You could die. At least tell me your name. [Bruce pauses for a moment] Bruce Wayne: It’s not who I am underneath but what I do that defines me. Rachel Dawes: Bruce?

Rachel Dawes: [to Bruce] Deep down you may still be that same great kid you used to be. But it’s not who you are underneath, it’s what you do that defines you.

Rachel Dawes: You’re not talking about justice. You’re talking about revenge. Bruce Wayne: Sometimes they’re the same. Rachel Dawes: No, they’re never the same, Bruce. Justice is about harmony. Revenge is about you making yourself feel better. It’s why we have an impartial system.

Carmine Falcone: [to Bruce] This is a world you’ll never understand. And you always fear what you don’t understand.

Ra’s al Ghul: What are you seeking? Bruce Wayne: I seek the means to fight injustice. To turn fear against those who prey on the fearful. Ra’s al Ghul: To manipulate the fears in others you must first master your own. Are you ready to begin? Bruce Wayne: I can barely stand. Ra’s al Ghul: Death does not wait for you to be ready! Death is not considerate or fair! And make no mistake, here you face death.

Alfred Pennyworth: Strange injuries a non-existent social life, these things beg the question as to what exactly does Bruce Wayne do with his time and his money. Bruce Wayne: And what does someone like me do? Alfred Pennyworth: Drive sports cars, date movie stars, buy things that are not for sale, who knows, Master Wayne, you start pretending to have fun, you might even have a little by accident.

[trying to lift a burning roof beam off of Bruce] Alfred Pennyworth: What is the point of all those push-ups if you can’t even lift a bloody log!

Earle: Bruce? You’re supposed to be dead. Bruce Wayne: Sorry to disappoint.

[as Batman is about leave] Jim Gordon: I never said thank you. Batman: And you’ll never have to.

1. The Dark Knight (2008)

Nolan’s sequel, which is now widely considered to be one of the best sequels ever made. The story follows Batman/Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) in his continuing war on crime. With the help of allies Lt. Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman) and DA Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), Batman has been able to keep a tight lid on crime in Gotham City. But when a menace knows as the Joker (Heath Ledger) emerges, he starts to wreak havoc and chaos on the people of Gotham. Batman must accept one of the greatest psychological and physical tests of his ability to fight injustice and begins to tread a fine line between heroism and vigilantism.

‘If you’re good at something, never do it for free.’ – The Joker (The Dark Knight) Click To Tweet

The Joker: I believe whatever doesn’t kill you, simply makes you stranger.

Alfred Pennyworth: A long time ago, I was in Burma, my friends and I were working for the local government. They were trying to buy the loyalty of the tribal leaders by bribing them with precious stones. But their caravans were being raided in a forest north of Rangoon by a bandit. So we went looking for the stones. But in six months, we never met anyone who traded with him. One day I saw a child playing with a ruby the size of a tangerine. The bandit had been throwing them away. Bruce Wayne: So why steal them? Alfred Pennyworth: Because he thought it was good sport. Because some men aren’t looking for anything logical, like money. They can’t be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.

The Joker: want to know how I got these scars? My father was a drinker. And a fiend. And one night he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn’t like that. Not one bit. So, me watching, he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it! He turns to me, and he says, “Why so serious, son?” Comes at me with the knife, “Why so serious?” He sticks the blade in my mouth, “Let’s put a smile on that face!” And, why so serious?

Bruce Wayne: Let her go! [Joker dangles Rachel out of a window] The Joker: Very poor choice of words… [then let’s Rachel drop]

Bruce Wayne: Then why do you want to kill me? The Joker: [laughs] I don’t, I don’t want to kill you! What would I do without you? Go back to ripping off mob dealers? No, no, no! No. You, you complete me.

Bruce Wayne: You’re garbage who kills for money. The Joker: Don’t talk like one of them. You’re not! Even if you’d like to be. To them, you’re just a freak, like me! They need you right now, but when they don’t, they’ll cast you out, like a leper! You see, their morals, their code, it’s a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They’re only as good as the world allows them to be. I’ll show you. When the chips are down, these, uh, these civilized people, they’ll eat each other. See, I’m not a monster. I’m just ahead of the curve.

The Joker: [to Det. Stephens] Do you want to know why I use a knife? Guns are too quick. You can’t savor all the little emotions. In, you see, in their last moments, people show you who they really are.

The Joker: [to Harvey Dent] You know, you know what I’ve noticed? Nobody panics when things go “according to plan”. Even if the plan is horrifying! If, tomorrow, I tell the press that, like, a gang banger will get shot, or a truckload of soldiers will be blown up, nobody panics, because it’s all “part of the plan.” But when I say that one little old mayor will die, well then everyone loses their minds!

[Joker hands Dent a gun and points it at himself] The Joker: Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos. I’m an agent of chaos. Oh, and you know the thing about chaos? It’s fair!

Bruce Wayne: What were you hoping to prove? That, deep down, everyone’s as ugly as you? You’re alone! The Joker: Can’t rely on anyone these days, you got to do to everything yourself. Don’t we!

The Joker: [to Bruce] I took Gotham’s white knight and I brought him down to our level. It wasn’t hard. You see, madness, as you know, is like gravity. All it takes is a little push.

Bruce Wayne: [voice over] Sometimes the truth isn’t good enough. Sometimes, people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded.

[referring to Batman] James Gordon Jr.: He didn’t do anything wrong. Lt. James Gordon: Because he’s the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now. So we’ll hunt him because he can take it. Because he’s not our hero. He’s a silent guardian, a watchful protector, a dark knight.

3. The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

Final installment in Nolan’s trilogy, where we see Bruce Wayne living as a recluse in Wayne Manor, seen only by the trusted Alfred. Gotham appears at peace, with organized crime dropping, however, the arrival of a cunning cat burglar, Selina (Anne Hathaway), and a merciless terrorist named Bane (Tom Hardy), forces Batman out of exile and into a battle he may not be able to win.

‘There are always people you care about. You just don’t realize how much until they’re gone.’ – Bruce Wayne (The Dark Knight Rises) Click To Tweet

Blake: [to Bruce] To be angry. In your bones. I mean, they understand. Foster parents, everybody, understands, for a while. But then they want the angry little kid to do something he knows he can’t do. To move on. So after a while they stop understanding and they send the angry kid to a boys home. I figured it out too late. You got to learn to hide the anger, and practice smiling in the mirror. It’s like putting on a mask. So you showed up this one day in a cool car, pretty girl on your arm. We were so excited. Bruce Wayne, billionaire orphan! We used to make up stories about you, man. Legends. And you know, to the other kids that’s all it was, just stories. But, right when I saw you I knew who you really were.

Bruce Wayne: You’re afraid that if I go back out there, I’ll fail. Alfred: No. I’m afraid that you want to.

Alfred: [to Bruce] I am using the truth, Master Wayne. Maybe it’s time we all stopped trying to outsmart the truth and just let it have its day. I’m sorry!

Bane: Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Bruce Wayne: Hope you didn’t like me for my money. Miranda: Suffering builds character.

Bruce Wayne: Why didn’t you just kill me? Bane: You don’t fear death, you welcome it. Your punishment must be more severe. Bruce Wayne: You’re a torturer. Bane: Yes. But not of your body. Of your soul.

Blind Prisoner: Fear is why you fail. Bruce Wayne: No, I’m not afraid. I’m angry.

Bruce Wayne: If you’re working alone, wear a mask. Blake: I’m not afraid to be seen standing up to these guys. Bruce Wayne: The mask is not for you. It’s to protect the people you care about.

Bruce Wayne: A hero can be anyone. Even a man doing something as simple and reassuring as putting a coat around a young boy’s shoulders, to let him know the world hadn’t ended.

#movie quotes

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jeromesxreader16 · 7 years

Text

Such a Joker (22/?)

http://jeromesxreader16.tumblr.com/post/156065026542/such-a-joker-21

Jim POV:

“Valeska has red hair, crazy laugh. Might be rolling with a pretty young number.” Harvey says to a suspect mentioning my daughter in the process. I clench my fist and breath deeply.

“I-I don’t know anything.” The man says scared. “You believe him?” “ Nope.” “Me neither.” “It’s the truth! But, hey, I-I can help you guys, you know, spread the word and stuff.” He says putting his hands up.   “Valeska killed a friend of ours. Anybody hides him, anybody protects him, they go down, too, you got it? Now spread the word! Harvey yells.

I go sit at my desk and rest my head in my hands. “Ugh (y/n) what have you gotten yourself into?”

(Y/n) POV:  Jerome, Tabatha, and I go to visit Jerome’s father. We stand in his apartment snooping when the door opens.

“Who’s there? I know someone’s there.” The old man says in his scratchy voice.

Jerome jumps and cover the mans mouth. “Hi-ya, Pops. Long time no see.” I giggle at his bad pun. “Good one baby!” “Thanks dollface.” Jerome winks at me.

We place old man in a chair tied down. “So, how you doing? Ah, the silent treatment, eh? Here, I’ll tell you a story. You remember Kansas City, Dad? The circus went through town every spring right around my birthday. There was this guy. Him and my mom used to drink and fornicate and beat the crap out of me. They’d make a whole night out of it. And I remember one time it was my ninth birthday him and my mom had just finished round one of boozing, boning, beating up Jerome, and were deciding to take a little break. Anyway Mm. I was outside the trailer, and you were there. And you said, “Why are you crying, Jerome?” “It’s my birthday. And my mom and the snake guy are beating me. ” then you said, “This world doesn’t care about you “or anyone else, Jerome. Better to realize that now. ” And that was it.”

I cross my arms over Jerome’s shoulders and hug him. “Such a bad father Mr. Cicero! How could you treat such a nice boy like that?” Jerome kisses my arm. “You see, there’s this guy, Dad. He believes in me. He believes in (y/n) and I. He thinks I’m gonna be a star. And, tonight, all of Gotham will see that, too. Except for you. ‘Cause you’ll be, you know, dead.” Jerome laughs.

“Jerome” his father tries to speak. “Is this the part where you say how sorry you are? Hmm? How you should have believed in me, how it’s not too late to start again? News flash, Dad: it’s too late.” Jerome growls.  “You don’t have to do this.” I laugh throwing my head back. “No. I’m pretty sure he does.” “I was a bad father, but I did love you. To kill me for that.” Jerome rolls his eyes. “That’s not why I’m gonna kill you. Plans to Arkham Asylum. Look at these. Ah. Letters between you and your troubled son. Innocent at first glance, but Detective Gordon you remember him, right? he’ll feel little bumps. A secret message written in Braille between you and your son, discussing my escape. Finally, the knockout gas used to disable the orderlies. 'Cause, you see, Dad, this guy I was telling you about, he’s the one who broke me out of Arkham. He doesn’t want anyone to know about that. Obviously. So the police will find these letters, mmm, and they’ll think, “The blind old fool really loved his son. What a wonderful father.” Oh. There won’t be a dry eye in the house.” Jerome wipes his father’s eyes dramatically.

“They’ll never believe it.” “Ah, sure, they will. Cops are dumb. Isn’t that right (y/n)?” “Oh the dumbest!” I laugh.

“There’s nothing to eat in this dump. Finish up and let’s go.” Tabitha says frustrated. “Sorry you’re gonna miss my big night, Dad. But, hey, you’re psychic. So, tell me, do I kill?”

“You Will be a curse upon Gotham. Children will wake from sleeps screaming at the thought of you. Your legacy will be death and madness.”

“Ha, ha, ha. Well say hi to Mom for me.” Jerome says seconds away from stabbing the man’s brains.

“GCPD! GCPD! Mr.Cicero, it’s Detective Gordon. We need to speak with you about your son.” Jerome motions for me to run out to the fire escape, and I listen not wanting to be caught by my dumb cop father.

Jerome POV: Jim waddles out of the door all loopy and such. “That gas sure packs a wallop, huh?” He tries to raise his gun at me. “That’s cute.” I laugh and take his gun away only for him to place his hands around my neck. “I’m sensing anger.” I say laughing. “You killed Sarah Essen. Now I’m gonna kill you.” “Correction! Your daughter pulled that trigger! Ah she’s a good girl Gordon. Let her be free!” I laugh and point the gun at his head.

“Don’t shoot him. How about a little flesh wound?” Tabatha says kicking him in the face and knocking him cold.

(Y/n) POV: I brush my dress down getting all the wrinkles out so it lays flat and nice against my body. “Hmm someone looks delicious!” Jerome says kissing my neck and rubbing his hands all over my sides. “Well you know. Only the best.” “Only if I could take you out of this. Oh you don’t know what I’d do.” “3 years of fucking and something new? Surprise me.” I say wrapping my arms around him and bringing his lips to mine. “Hm that comes later tonight babygirl. To celebrate our victory! Now let’s get going. Don’t want to be late baby. Can’t miss the show!” He laughs and drags me oh the door.

When we get to the banquet Jerome, Barbara and I go through the back door. “Get the magician.” I say to Babs. As the magician that is supposed to perform tonight walk through the door we tackle him and tie him up placing him in a chest.

“Thank you for filling in on such short notice. But how did you hear our magician dropped out Mr?” “Rodolfo. Well, you know, magic.” Jerome says in his ridiculous accent. “Oh, I won’t be needing that.” Jerome says and we shut the chest.

I walk over to J and adjust his suit. “Be careful out there J. Give them the best show they’ve ever seen!” “Oh no problem there baby. Stay back here. I don’t want you getting caught.” I tug on his suit smirking. “Yes sir.”

“Without further ado, please allow me to present to you the Great Rodolfo.”

“Ha! Greetings, ladies and germs! I am indeed the Great Rodolfo. Please ogle my lovely assistant. Ooh! For my first act, I’ll require a volunteer. Let me see. Duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, duck goose!” Jerome points to Bruce Wayne.

Babs goes out into the crowd and brings him back. “Hello, young man. Does this handsome gentleman have a name?” “Bruce.” “Bruce! Well, Bruce, this won’t hurt a bit. Is there a doctor in the house?”

Jerome sticks one of the blades in the box along with the other one getting the audience to gasp and applauded him. “Give ‘em a wave. Some people say Bruce has a split personality. For my next illusion, I’d like to call to the stage esteemed Deputy Mayor Harrison Kane.”

From then on all hell breaks loose. Jerome kills the deputy mayor and gunfire is started along with the rest of the show because who can stop at just there? Ha! Not J.

Lee’s phone rings and Jerome picks it up. He ten looks at me and smiles. “Are you outside? You are, aren’t you? Oh, goody! I swear to God, if you’ve hurt her Breathe, James. I haven’t touched a hair on your girlfriend’s pretty head. See for yourself. This is live television after all. The feed just came back.”

“True, but not the point. Hey, let’s talk about what I want. $47 million, a helicopter, obviously, the dry cleaning I left at Mr. Chang’s be careful, the man is a crook, your daughter and I to live happily ever after and, mm, I don’t know, a pony. Uh You got ten minutes, or I start killing people. Remember, this is being broadcast to every home in Gotham, so, you know, don’t let people die. Bye.” Jerome laughs into the phone and hangs up. “I think that went well.” “Enough! You need to pack up your pathetic little sideshow and leave.” Glavan says walking up to the stage. “Is that right?” Jerome asks with a sexy smirk. “It may be presumptuous to speak for all the citizens of Gotham. But we are sick of you! You’re a small, vicious man with a pathetic need for attention. Enough, man. For God’s sakes, enough.” “I’m curious what your leverage is here, Mr ?” Theo Galavan” “Well, Mr. Theo Galavan, if you don’t sit down, uh, I’m going to shoot you. In the face.” I know there is some human decency left in you. you said something about living happily ever after? If you need to take a hostage, take me. But let these people go home to their families, to their children.” Babs hits him over the head knocking him out. “Boring.” “Right?”

Jerome continues to play around with people making me laugh harder behind the curtains. “Hold very still. Oh. I can’t look. Someone tell me how it turns out.” He placed his hand over his eyes and pulls the trigger to the gun only for water to come out. “Damn! Turn around.”

Jerome turns the man around and shoots the Apple off his head. “Well, clap!” Jerome says and immediately the crowd begins to clap.

“Well I think it’s time for tonight’s first official victim, you all know and love, poor rich boy, parents murdered in an alley, and my favorite volunteer. Where is Bruce Wayne?! You know I’m an orphan, too, Bruce.I killed my parents though. Where are you hiding? Bruce! Where are you, buddy? Kill his butler.” They get rich boys butler all roughed up. “Last chance, Bruce, but it’s about to get very butler brain out here.”

“I’m bored.” Babs says rolling her eye. “Shoot the butler.” “Stop!” Bruce yells as he steps out.

Jerome places the blade against Bruce’s neck. “Seems like we got ourselves a pickle. What do you say, Brucey boy? Want to boost our ratings, huh? Smile.”

Galavan get up and stride to Jerome. “I said, enough!” Jerome turns around. It all happens so fast. A knife is plunged into my jokersters neck. “NO!” I scream and run over to him. I fall to my knees beside him while blood spills from his neck and mouth. “Jerome. No. I love you!” I sob over him. “Doll face no tears. Smile. I want to see that beautiful smile.” He places his hand on my cheek and wipes my tears. Seconds. In seconds the light leaves his eyes and his skin grows cold. “No! No! You bastard!” I scream at Galavan.

Jerome’s body is moved out and transferred to the morgue while I am put on expected trial for murder and being insane.

Luckily my father doesn’t have that type of stomach for his own blood. He can’t send me to Arkham. He can’t even send me to a jail cell. That’s why I’ve been sitting in my room for over the past week. Barely eating. Barely breathing.

A knock on my door is heard and second later it’s opened. “Hey sweetie. I got some food if you want it. I know you don’t want to but you need to (y/n). Please for me.” My dad sits on the end of the bed and rubs my calf setting to food on the table.

“I’ll do anything honey. Just say it.” I wipe my eyes and roll over to face him. “I just need time. I need to think. Clear my mind. I need distraction.” “I can get you a job. A job is a great distraction!” “In time daddy. I’ll be ready.” I say flipping on my side again. “Of course (y/n). I’m sorry you’re feeling so low.”

“Daddy wait.” “Yes?” I get up and hug him. “Please don’t send me away.” I say crying into his chest. “Never again. Never.” My father kisses my head crying with me.

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let-me-help-you-bruce · 7 years

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Bruce Wayne X Reader Part 3

I clicked Joker’s paperwork off of the top of my desk arranging them so they would neat and orderly, tucking the Letter Maddox had written for his father in my back pocket. It was a small envelope decorated with hearts and gun, a family holding hands on the front of it. This would be my first time in months meeting with the clown so it would be interesting if he made any progress or had progressively gotten worst. Then again nothing ever really changed with him. He was a difficult case but easy to predict except when it came to the girl, Carmen. He seemed to care for her becoming protective of her at times, tending to her emotional needs and making her feel wanted. I bit the inside of my cheek before beeping my way out of my office and walking down the long stretch of the asylums grey hallway that would lead me to the farthest door on the right. The therapy room.

With fall in full bloom the weather had become a little chillier than usual So I was wearing a black pair of tight fitting pants as well as a petite black turtle neck. My hair was loosely curled and trickled down my shoulders. I arrived at the door peeking in the lowly lit room two body guards were standing behind the clown he was strapped tightly into a straight jacket, green hair, face tattoos all of it was the same the only difference being he wasn’t wearing his regular Cheshire grin.

Furrowing my eyebrows together I beeped the scanner and pushed open the door, smiling brightly at him as I walked to my end of the table. “Well good morning Mr. Joker how has your stay been?” His chilling blue eyes glared up at me. “Just magnificent Dr.” He replied in a weak tone. “Well that’s good to hear” As I took out my notes and guidelines J eyeballed the guards softly snarling t them whenever they met him gaze. I ushered them out to ease the environment, complaint they nodded their heads and left standing outside of the door. J’s shoulders seemed to relax a bit with the two men gone. “So to start out our session we will start with community then-” He grew irritated cracking his neck to the right and then to the left. “Cut the crap Dr.” he snarled moving agitated in his chair. “How’s my boy?” His eyes squinted and he began to breathe heavier.

A pang of sympathy bounced around my heart when I thought of Maddox’s tattooed little face asking sadly to write him a letter. “Dr?!” Joker yelled at me seeming to hyperventilate for a moment. “He is doing well. He stays with my husband and I” The room around us seemed to close in making way for a feeling of claustrophobia. J’s eyes softened but they still peered deeply into me pleading for.. comfort? “He lives in your house with Bruce?” I shivered slightly hearing him say Bruce’s name. “Yes he does. It’s a safe place for him. Our butler has been home schooling him and he’s doing quite well. He’s very intelligent.” J leaned back in his chair sighing with relief. “Good orphans take care of other orphans you know Dr” He began to smiling.

As chilling as his smile may be it lighted up the room seeing him act as his normal self. I nodded smiling softly. “Let’s touch on that subject shall we?” His smiled widened. “Sure thing Mrs.Wayne Play with my broken mind” I opened up my notebook reading through the questions I wanted to ask him. “What happened the night you were caught by the police.” He growled at my questioned. “You mean the Bat?” I nodded annoyed with his tone. “Yes The Batman” Satisfied he continued on leaning casually forward so his chest was resting on the metal table. “You see, Dr. it was bring your child to work day and I didn’t want the little brat to be disappointed you see so I gave one of my apes bad directions knowing the bat would catch wind of it. I just wanted my little boy to witness what I do Dr.” he slapped his hands smiling tightly, letting out a loud laugh. “The poor kid was wrapped up in a shoot out and taken before I could get my hands on him!! How that sound huh? Pretty doll?” He leaned back in his chair displaying more movement then he ever had in our past meetings.

I looked down my list of questions setting my eyes on one that may be treading a little to close to a possible trigger. My eyes met his he was still smiling waiting for the next question. “What about Carmen?” I said trying to keep a pleasant tone. His smile faded away slowly and his eyes narrowed in on mine. “How do you?” He growled bouncing his head off of the table screaming “Don’t say her name!” The guards opened the door I smiled at them to show that everything was okay. He had random outbursts like this before normally ending in fits of laughter not rage. “The batman found Carmen and your son, Maddox-” he raised his head painfully up looking at me with a tired and terrorized face. You could tell in his demeanor he wanted me to stop.

Slowly he repeated Maddox and Carmen’s names to himself. “in a closet after you had been taken away from the warehouse at 12:30 Pm. Maddox was clinging onto Carmen who-” I thought for a minute part of me wanting to say she was alive but knew it was best not to say. “Was pronounced dead two hours later from self asphyxiation” He head fell onto the table, lethargically he rolled his head back and forth groaning uncomfortably. “Take me back to my cell Dr.” I head back a smile surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth. “Okay I can do that. Get some rest.” I lightly stroke his head whistling for the guards. Knowing the drill they took The Joker out of the room. He sat limply in his chair staring into nothing as they wheeled him away.

Bruce and I went out to one of the many restaurants he own that night. It was a one based on French cuisine, I wasn’t a huge fan but his eye always lit up when the many kinds of bread was brought. He would look t me and say. “Look at that Y/N, it’s the finest bread in Gotham” I would raise my eyebrows and smile agreeing sarcastically. Bruce tonight was quieter than usual. “What’s wrong dear?’ I said slurping up some of my baked Camembert noisily. He smiled chuckling lightly. “I’ll be going out of town for a few days and I need you to stay with Maddox and Alfred.” I put my spoon down exhaling loudly annoyed. “What for?” He took a drink and looked handsomely into the crowd of people. It was poorly lit so he had to squint to clearly see anything. “Wayne enterprises is hosting a fund raiser in Paris and I am expected to make an appearance.” I nodded avoiding eye contact my feelings hurt and suspicious that he wouldn’t invite me. I let the feelings remain docile it was no use fighting. It was never a good idea to fight with him before he left town. The remainder of the night we ate quietly both avoiding any contact. When we got home Bruce played a board game happily with Maddox. I sat on the coach drinking tea watching them.

The tattoo on Maddox’s face was beginning to scab over causing him to scratch frantically. “Honey” I said grabbing his hand softly. “You shouldn’t scratch it” He put his hand down stubbornly “But it itches, bad!” I nodded understanding where he was coming from even though I didn’t have any tattoos of my own. “I understand the but you don’t want it to get infected” He just shrugged being distracted when he realized Bruce was winning the game. “You sneaky man!” He explained outraged. I laughed talking my place back on the coach falling asleep soon after.

Thank you for reading all :)

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