After some time with Bruce, you’d found yourself comfortable enough to share a detail about yourself you hadn’t actually shared before. Now, comfortable does not mean you couldn’t be nervous. You were, you had no idea what kind of reaction it warranted. What he’d have to say. “Hey, Bruce? Do you have a moment?” You asked him as he sat at the dining room table in solitude. He nodded and pulled out the chair beside him.
“Is everything okay?” He noticed your body language, a bit off compared to how you usually acted around him. He made quick assumptions that you disproved in the coming moments.
“I just wanted to tell you something,” you paused and he stared in anticipation, “I’m autistic.” He raised an eyebrow and waited to see if you’d continue. “That’s all.”
“Oh, okay. That’s nice, thank you for sharing.” Bruce reached for your hand and smiled at you. “Do you want to tell me what it entails? I know it’s different for everyone.” He offered to lend and ear and you felt a sense of relief wash over you.
Warnings:Language.Smut. Just a lil finger bangin, ya know?
Monday, April 18th
I’ve met someone. Arrogant. Flippant. Self-interested. They too, have plans for Gotham. An unshakeable need to play a hand at Gotham’s Rebirth. Her methods are radical, riot inciting, dangerous.
The city’s big. Enough for her to mold parts of it to her liking where my influence hasn’t yet touched. Too rough. Too sharp. My reach can’t remedy the damage. Should she continue, Gotham herself can only hope to be disfigured.
Warnings:Language.Smut. Just a lil finger bangin, ya know?
Monday, April 18th
I’ve met someone. Arrogant. Flippant. Self-interested. They too, have plans for Gotham. An unshakeable need to play a hand at Gotham’s Rebirth. Her methods are radical, riot inciting, dangerous.
The city’s big. Enough for her to mold parts of it to her liking where my influence hasn’t yet touched. Too rough. Too sharp. My reach can’t remedy the damage. Should she continue, Gotham herself can only hope to be disfigured.
Warnings:Language.Smut. Just a lil finger bangin, ya know?
Monday, April 18th
I’ve met someone. Arrogant. Flippant. Self-interested. They too, have plans for Gotham. An unshakeable need to play a hand at Gotham’s Rebirth. Her methods are radical, riot inciting, dangerous.
The city’s big. Enough for her to mold parts of it to her liking where my influence hasn’t yet touched. Too rough. Too sharp. My reach can’t remedy the damage. Should she continue, Gotham herself can only hope to be disfigured.
Warnings:Language.Smut. Just a lil finger bangin, ya know?
Monday, April 18th
I’ve met someone. Arrogant. Flippant. Self-interested. They too, have plans for Gotham. An unshakeable need to play a hand at Gotham’s Rebirth. Her methods are radical, riot inciting, dangerous.
The city’s big. Enough for her to mold parts of it to her liking where my influence hasn’t yet touched. Too rough. Too sharp. My reach can’t remedy the damage. Should she continue, Gotham herself can only hope to be disfigured.
Something pulls me to her.
There you are. Sultry and intense. A bright vision for eyes accustomed to the darkness.
Bruce leans forward and hears himself emit a throaty grunt. It’s just the bruised ribcage he tells himself, knowing it’s a lie.
You’re passionate, as you always are, but being on camera ignites a chromosome in you that makes you magnetic. Anyone watching will be pulled by your words. Like mind control, your message will become theirs. You’re a north star in an empty night sky. You’re the way home. It’s dangerous, the type of power you carelessly wield.
“Now’s the time to reclaim what never belonged to them. Take back the city and let freedom ring!”
The climax to your speech has the crowd cheering with intense
A low vibration rumbles within Bruce like an old bell. “Incredibly dangerous,” he speaks aloud. Or in his head. He can’t tell which. He can only decipher that he needs to see you.
Not deep in the depths of the bat cave on a screen that flattens your visage.
He needs you in the flesh.
You’re washing off the day. Extra hot showers are good for that. The anxiety of being on TV, running back every word you stumbled over or important points you missed, isn’t something you want to keep with you.
So you let your mind drift. It’s a meditation technique your mother taught you. A very basic one, but one nonetheless. All thoughts are welcome. Your mind is free to bring up any memory it wished, so long as it’s business related. No self judgment or hatred of the thought is allowed — a crucial component of the exercise. As your mother had told you, “Allow your mind to freely roam for 30 minutes, and for the entire day you will know where your heart is.”
Suddenly, you aren’t thinking of better plans for Gotham. You’re thinking of hot cocoa and marshmallows during a winter storm. Extra, extra marshmallows. Extra cocoa too. But could you afford the carbs? Wait. Is that you judging yourself? This zone is judgment free. So you release the thought back into the void from which it emerged.
For a moment you’re just enjoying the feeling of being in the shower. But the mind takes over and strangely thinks of weightlifting competitions. Men and their bulging veins.
The thought doesn’t last long.
He arrives.
Of course he does.
The Batman.
It starts as the image of Gotham alight with the signal. We need you Batman. I need you.
The thought travels. What must it be like beneath all that heavy armor. Bulging veins? What kind of man was hidden behind the cowl?
Does he fuck as good as he fights?
You definitely judge yourself for that thought. You rather think about Gotham again than a man or a bat.
Finished with your shower, you dry off and throw on an oversized tee. In your head you’re mapping out your speech tomorrow: Something something like a lost soul, Gotham must find the light. Something something men with dark hearts have ruined this city. We have to fight back or find ourselves in hell.
You don’t realize the light in your bedroom is off until you’re already in it. That’s not how you left it. And before you can move to the lamp… you see him shrouded in the shadows. The silhouette of his thick frame. It frightens you, but not in a way that makes you run for cover.
“Your speech today —”
You give him no chance to finish. “What gives you the right to break and enter into my apartment? That’s the problem with men. Especially men like you. You think you own Gotham and everything in it.”
“Your speech today caused a 5% increase in crime.”
He approaches and hands a handheld device to you. The screen of which is cracked, but you can still make out the ticker.
“Looting has increased significantly in the East End—”
“Correlation doesn’t imply causation.”
“Swipe right.”
As you do so a picture pops up. A vandalized convenient store. A man wearing a mask of the president holds a banner with a man wearing a mask of the Vice President. Let freedom ring scrawled in blood, nearly illegible. A bludgeoned store clerk sits
Batman, in his typical monotone whisper, asks, “is this your idea of Freedom?”
You push the handheld into his chest. “A version of it.”
“Your words have power,” he says, “the things you say could be used for good.”
A thought enters your mind and you don’t pass judgement on it. Here is The Batman. In your bedroom, in the dark. It’s enough to make you bite down on your bottom lip. “That’s what you came all this way to tell me? That I have a naughty mouth?”
He’s silent. As still as the night that coats your apartment. You take the reigns, hoping his lack of a protest is a sign of approval. Lips pressing against his, you groan in approval when he kisses you back. It’s soft, fragile, nothing like the brutal way he’s bludgeoned petty criminals. Makes you think either he doesn’t do this often, or he doesn’t want to hurt you.
His device drops from his hand. It startles you, makes you want to jump from your skin, but his fingers against your waist keep your form flush against him. The kiss breaks and there’s just breathing. Heavy breaths regaining composure.
“Don’t,” he warns as your hand runs along the smooth plating of his cowl. You make no fuss about it, no forcing things. You have every intention to drop the lust, but he’s forcing you back first onto your bed. You flowing with the ebbs of the mattress and sink into the weight Batman forces against you. “Just lie still.”
You do as you’re told. Cold fingers, hard and metal, untie your towel. You’d forgotten that was all you had clothing you. And barely recognize that the hand reaching between your legs is gloved until -
“Shit.”
His fingers slide inside you. You’re not sure how many. You just feel full. To the brink of it burning. It’s just the right amount of stretch.
“You’re wet,” he murmurs, all soft in the darkness. It makes you moan harder when he pushes back inside you. A little rougher and you roll against his finger’s thrusts. “So wet.”
“Does it feel good?” he asks, fingers swirling around your clit. You wrangle out an answer between pants. Yes. It feels so fucking good. With your head thrown back and legs wrapping around either side of his waist.
You come, in the black void of space and he’s kisses you through it. Something he wants to taste for himself.
And then he leaves. Picks up his device and leaves. No trace of him ever being there.
authors note: kind of a transition chapter, not the best, i apologize. ALSO this fic is obvi not cannon and selina kyle is not in it so i am adapting around that, some events are out of order
PRINCESS OF GOTHAM DEAD
the text scrolled across the screen and you bit your lip.
you bounced your leg as you watched the press release. usually it would be thomas you would be thomas you would be bouncing, but he was making his first public appearance today.
jim gordon was currently standing outside the gotham precinct talking to the reporters where they were all hungry for bruce’s appearance.
everyone had decided it be necessary to have thomas be there as no one would believe you dead if thomas were no where to be found either.
gordon stepped up to the mic. everyone had been in arms about your ‘death’ as you were a far different target than the mayor, the commissioner, and the da.
“it is with great sorrow to announce that y/n y/l/n was tragically murdered last night by the riddler. we know this without a doubt and we are using all of our resources to find him. a tape has been leaked of y/n’s death and we are advising the public not to listen out of respect of her family. now a word from mr. wayne, her fiancé.” jim finished.
bruce walked out of the precinct doors carrying thomas. bruce stepped up to the mic and cleared his throat, “this is the second person the riddler has hurt because of me. first alfred, now y/n.” thomas started to whine, “this is our child, thomas bruce wayne jr or tommy as y/n called him. he’s without a mother now.” you could see the pain in bruce’s face as he spoke these words as they were his biggest fears and he needed to make it seem realistic.
you swallowed hard you were worried about the two of them being in such a public place when the riddler was clearly obsessed with him.
“she was a great woman and an even better mother. i should have made better use of our time together. that’s all, thank you.” bruce said and walked back inside as the reporters went wild with questions.
your heart broke, seeing the pain in bruce’s eyes knowing he meant every word of it. tears streamed down your face as you clicked off the tv.
“would you like some tea, ms. y/n?” you heard the voice around the corner, wiping the tears away from your cheeks.
you stood up, “dotty?” you asked softly. you knew she was around, but you hadn’t seen her during your arrival last night.
“i didn’t mean to interrupt. i made you tea. i thought you might like some.” she said, walking in and presenting you tea, just how you liked it.
“you remembered.” this made the tears come falling again and your knees buckled. dotty had always made you tea when you weee upset when you were a teenager, it had been a staple comfort item and a bonding moment between the two of you.
dotty quickly put the tray down and rushed to your side, “sweet girl, everything will be alright. you’re home safe again. we will take care of you.”
you leaned into her shoulder, just as you had when you were a young teenager, “how can anything be the same?” you whispered.
“well it won’t be and it shouldn’t be. there’s a baby now. and if that doesn’t make you want to work things out with him, i don’t know what will.” she said, stroking your hair.
you sniffled, “i’m just so worried about him.”
“well aren’t we all, but now he has someone to come home to besides just me and silly alfred.”
you hugged her a final time, “thank you dot.”
your phone beeped and you looked at it. it was a text from bruce with a link to a news article titled SECRET LOVE CHILD OF LATE Y/N Y/LN AND BRUCE WAYNE? FIND OUT MORE TONIGHT
you swore, you knew that meant reporters would be swarming the manor trying to get more pictures of thomas, especially after that pressconference. there was nowhere safe for them to go in gotham. you needed to find the riddler and be done with this, fast.
thankfully, bruce and tommy would have a police escort back to the house later, but you had gone down to start analyzing the latest letter. as you were about to shut down the computers a pattern in the code caught your eye of your initials. you erased all of those symbols which pertained and it spelled out perfect, ‘44’.
you felt sick, you never wanted to step foot in the iceberg lounge or 44 below again. your last name was a legend in that club because of your father as he was known to take any hit job no matter the target, no questions asked. a year after he had killed your mother, you went looking for answers and had a horrible encounter with falcone and the penguin. if it hadn’t been for young bruce, you wouldn’t have made it out alive.
but you knew you were the only one who was going to get in, even if you were supposed to be dead.
thomas didn’t know what to think about bruce in his suit. he was obviously frightened over the whole situation so he clung to you the entire ride back to the manor.
you almost couldn’t believe it when bruce drove you into literal cave. “unbelievable, you really are the most extra man i know.” you shook your head with a small laugh. only he had the funds to make an actual bat-cave.
bruce ignored your comment and parked. when he got out, you took a moment to fully admire the suit and all it’s intricacies. once,he took the cowl off again, his dark paint smeared down his face. you finally could recognize your bruce now that you weren’t in a full blown panic.
you got out of the car and held thomas close as bats flew over your head.
when he walked over to his work station, he pulled out his contacts and put them onto a machine where the worst night of your life started to replay in front of you.
you turned away, unable to stomach it again. you hadn’t even shown up on the screen yet, but just bruce’s point of view of him racing to get to you.
bruce noticed this after he was through shedding the rest of his armor. “come on, let me get you both settled.” you nodded and followed him upstairs to the manor.
nothing had changed since you left. it was like time had stood still. when you walked through the stairwell, memories hit you, hard. you willed away your tears and walked to the master bedroom.
bruce didn’t question it. that had always been your bedroom together, but it looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. you turned to ask but he spoke first, “that night you came. in the rain. i stopped sleeping in here. i couldn’t face it. after what i did to you. i knew i had broken you and all your stuff was in here and the room smelled like you. i-“ he took a deep breathe, “i’m sorry.”
you closed your eyes for a moment and settled thomas on your hip. “i love you and i want you to be apart of our lives but how can i trust you won’t do that again?” you whispered, before he could answer you continued, “i’m going to bathe thomas and then myself.”
after thomas’ bath and your shower, you felt human again. bruce had taken a shower in the other bathroom and was in some pajama pants that were familiar to you. he had laid out one of his old shirts on the bed and a pair of your underwear that you had left behind for you to sleep in.
there was also a package of diapers and onesies; bruce had obviously run to the store while both of you bathed. you smiled softly and changed both yourself and thomas. thomas was exhausted and didn’t even need a bottle to fall asleep.
when he was asleep, you went looking for bruce.
you saw the light on in one of the guest rooms and opened the door. he was laying in the bed, reading. “come to bed.” you said softly. it wasn’t a question, but he could say no.
he looked up at you, confusion on his face, “i want you to come sleep in the bed with us. i won’t feel safe unless you do.” you said walking over and sitting next to him. you also missed him but couldn’t let him know that.
you didn’t want him to think that things would go back to normal, but after the night you had, you couldn’t fathom sleeping alone.
he sat up and gently put his hand on your cheek, “i will never let anything like that happen to either of you again.”
you rested against him and inhaled, “just don’t leave ever. that’s all that matters. now come to bed, b.”
you stood up slowly and took his hand. he took it and followed you to the master. you crawled in next to thomas and bruce next to you. the three of you curled into each other’s arms.
your little family was almost whole again. all that was missing in the house was alfred. then things would be complete.
thomas didn’t know what to think about bruce in his suit. he was obviously frightened over the whole situation so he clung to you the entire ride back to the manor.
you almost couldn’t believe it when bruce drove you into literal cave. “unbelievable, you really are the most extra man i know.” you shook your head with a small laugh. only he had the funds to make an actual bat-cave.
bruce ignored your comment and parked. when he got out, you took a moment to fully admire the suit and all it’s intricacies. once,he took the cowl off again, his dark paint smeared down his face. you finally could recognize your bruce now that you weren’t in a full blown panic.
you got out of the car and held thomas close as bats flew over your head.
when he walked over to his work station, he pulled out his contacts and put them onto a machine where the worst night of your life started to replay in front of you.
you turned away, unable to stomach it again. you hadn’t even shown up on the screen yet, but just bruce’s point of view of him racing to get to you.
bruce noticed this after he was through shedding the rest of his armor. “come on, let me get you both settled.” you nodded and followed him upstairs to the manor.
nothing had changed since you left. it was like time had stood still. when you walked through the stairwell, memories hit you, hard. you willed away your tears and walked to the master bedroom.
bruce didn’t question it. that had always been your bedroom together, but it looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. you turned to ask but he spoke first, “that night you came. in the rain. i stopped sleeping in here. i couldn’t face it. after what i did to you. i knew i had broken you and all your stuff was in here and the room smelled like you. i-“ he took a deep breathe, “i’m sorry.”
you closed your eyes for a moment and settled thomas on your hip. “i love you and i want you to be apart of our lives but how can i trust you won’t do that again?” you whispered, before he could answer you continued, “i’m going to bathe thomas and then myself.”
after thomas’ bath and your shower, you felt human again. bruce had taken a shower in the other bathroom and was in some pajama pants that were familiar to you. he had laid out one of his old shirts on the bed and a pair of your underwear that you had left behind for you to sleep in.
there was also a package of diapers and onesies; bruce had obviously run to the store while both of you bathed. you smiled softly and changed both yourself and thomas. thomas was exhausted and didn’t even need a bottle to fall asleep.
when he was asleep, you went looking for bruce.
you saw the light on in one of the guest rooms and opened the door. he was laying in the bed, reading. “come to bed.” you said softly. it wasn’t a question, but he could say no.
he looked up at you, confusion on his face, “i want you to come sleep in the bed with us. i won’t feel safe unless you do.” you said walking over and sitting next to him. you also missed him but couldn’t let him know that.
you didn’t want him to think that things would go back to normal, but after the night you had, you couldn’t fathom sleeping alone.
he sat up and gently put his hand on your cheek, “i will never let anything like that happen to either of you again.”
you rested against him and inhaled, “just don’t leave ever. that’s all that matters. now come to bed, b.”
you stood up slowly and took his hand. he took it and followed you to the master. you crawled in next to thomas and bruce next to you. the three of you curled into each other’s arms.
your little family was almost whole again. all that was missing in the house was alfred. then things would be complete.
thomas didn’t know what to think about bruce in his suit. he was obviously frightened over the whole situation so he clung to you the entire ride back to the manor.
you almost couldn’t believe it when bruce drove you into literal cave. “unbelievable, you really are the most extra man i know.” you shook your head with a small laugh. only he had the funds to make an actual bat-cave.
bruce ignored your comment and parked. when he got out, you took a moment to fully admire the suit and all it’s intricacies. once,he took the cowl off again, his dark paint smeared down his face. you finally could recognize your bruce now that you weren’t in a full blown panic.
you got out of the car and held thomas close as bats flew over your head.
when he walked over to his work station, he pulled out his contacts and put them onto a machine where the worst night of your life started to replay in front of you.
you turned away, unable to stomach it again. you hadn’t even shown up on the screen yet, but just bruce’s point of view of him racing to get to you.
bruce noticed this after he was through shedding the rest of his armor. “come on, let me get you both settled.” you nodded and followed him upstairs to the manor.
nothing had changed since you left. it was like time had stood still. when you walked through the stairwell, memories hit you, hard. you willed away your tears and walked to the master bedroom.
bruce didn’t question it. that had always been your bedroom together, but it looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. you turned to ask but he spoke first, “that night you came. in the rain. i stopped sleeping in here. i couldn’t face it. after what i did to you. i knew i had broken you and all your stuff was in here and the room smelled like you. i-“ he took a deep breathe, “i’m sorry.”
you closed your eyes for a moment and settled thomas on your hip. “i love you and i want you to be apart of our lives but how can i trust you won’t do that again?” you whispered, before he could answer you continued, “i’m going to bathe thomas and then myself.”
after thomas’ bath and your shower, you felt human again. bruce had taken a shower in the other bathroom and was in some pajama pants that were familiar to you. he had laid out one of his old shirts on the bed and a pair of your underwear that you had left behind for you to sleep in.
there was also a package of diapers and onesies; bruce had obviously run to the store while both of you bathed. you smiled softly and changed both yourself and thomas. thomas was exhausted and didn’t even need a bottle to fall asleep.
when he was asleep, you went looking for bruce.
you saw the light on in one of the guest rooms and opened the door. he was laying in the bed, reading. “come to bed.” you said softly. it wasn’t a question, but he could say no.
he looked up at you, confusion on his face, “i want you to come sleep in the bed with us. i won’t feel safe unless you do.” you said walking over and sitting next to him. you also missed him but couldn’t let him know that.
you didn’t want him to think that things would go back to normal, but after the night you had, you couldn’t fathom sleeping alone.
he sat up and gently put his hand on your cheek, “i will never let anything like that happen to either of you again.”
you rested against him and inhaled, “just don’t leave ever. that’s all that matters. now come to bed, b.”
you stood up slowly and took his hand. he took it and followed you to the master. you crawled in next to thomas and bruce next to you. the three of you curled into each other’s arms.
your little family was almost whole again. all that was missing in the house was alfred. then things would be complete.
Okay, so I said I wasn’t going to do it (add another fandom). But here I am less than 24 hours later. I couldn’t help myself. He just makes such a good Batman.
Summary : Just a very small drabble about an early morning moment
Word count : 385
Warnings : A smidge of angst.
A/N: Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.
If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around!
Your sigh came silently, though its volume rang loud in your head. Even as he slept, darkness haunted the valleys beneath his eyes, its effects drawing all the colour from his beautiful features. Somewhere in the foggy haze of your mind, you remembered him slipping into the bed beside you, his strong arms pulling your back against his chest, as the soft light of dawn peeked through the sides of the blinds. With the knowledge of his safe return and the comfort of his warm embrace, you drifted back off to the sound of his quiet rhythmic snores. A sound you had strangely grown to cherish since the moment his nighttime escapades had begun.
He looked so peaceful. Your fingertips fought the urge to reach out and brush his cheek, but you didn’t, he needed his sleep. He would always need his sleep. And you knew the moment you tried to sneak your way from the bed, his eyes would open; tired and drained and consumed with unfounded guilt. Guilt for not giving you the time he believed you deserved. You knew him. Knew him inside out. In his mind, his efforts were never enough, and your heart ached for him. Unwillingly, an audible sigh escaped your lips, the tiny sound stirring him from his slumber. Two gentle guilt-ridden eyes opened and settled upon your face, his features softened by a tired smile, “Hmmm, good morning.”
Reaching across, he grabbed at your waist, pulling you against him, your lips connecting with a fresh bruise at the edge of his jaw, “You, my love, should still be sleeping.”
Nestling your head into his chest, his hand ran up along your side, settling at the nape of your neck, his voice rough and husky with fatigue, “I’m fine.” Reaching down, he kissed the top of your head, and asked, “What are we going to do today?”
You looked up at him as he desperately tried, yet hopelessly failed, to hide the exhaustion evident in every cell of his body, the sight magnifying the ache in your heart. Losing your fingers amongst his hair, your guided his mouth to yours. And when you finally surfaced for air, you answered, “Nothing, my love. Absolutely nothing. Today the world doesn’t exist. It’s just you and me. Here… inside these four walls.”
I really benefitted from being awake early today! This was so nice to read over my morning coffee. This drabble is so sweet and angsty and I just love it!! ❤️
I just wanted to apologize for not being as active these last few weeks/ months! I’m currently in the middle of passing all my exams as this was my last year of high school.
But! by mid-June, I will be super active again
I will continue all these series I have started and not finished lmao (Including the Zuko, Peter Parker, and Will Turner ones) PLUS I have new ideas for a Bruce Wayne series AND a bunch of other fics for other characters!
So please keep your requests going because they give me ideas! and I’m so happy that I will get all summer to write everything I haven’t been writing because of school!
Warnings: !!spoilers!!, some fluff!!, smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, oral (m&f receiving), cum eating, vaginal fingering, face sitting, slight praise kink, mentions of violence/death, (lmk if I missed anything please!!)
a/n: not too proud abt this one but oh well hope you enjoy!!! thank you for your patience!
The funeral is drab, and the weather even worse. The crowd is a swath of black—solemn faces of the mayor’s colleagues and bitter contempt of the public who emerged to pay homage, or to spit on the mayor’s casket. You can’t blame them for that. You’d rather mingle with the crowd than be standing on the smooth steps of the town hall—scrutinized for whatever the public assumes you’ve done wrong.
Your mother is a tipping point—you love her, you really do, but Christshe’soverwhelming. Swarmed by cameras, gaudy public statements and hounded by media is not your cup of tea. Senator Nahdi thrives in it. It’s a good thing your parents all but scrubbed away your existence—different last name, no sight of you on campaigns or honorable mentions—a ghost. If anything, you’re mistaken as her assistant and not as her daughter.
A/N: Hey guys!!! So It’s 2:00am…and I only proofread this once. I’m getting pretty lazy with proofreading, so I’m sorry if it’s loaded with mistakes. I’ll check back tomorrow. Anyway, here’s the sex pollen fic!!! I really hope it doesn’t totally suck. It’s based on “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails. I would’ve titled it “Closer” but someone else already has a Bruce fic under that name so it didn’t feel right :) Anyway, enjoy!
Summary: After the Riddler strikes again, he leaves some unusual clues behind for you and Bruce…including a strange green dust.
Warnings:SMUT! It’s completely consensual (and there is mutual pining), but bc this is a SEX POLLEN fic, imma give a dub!con warning. 18+, cursing, violence, grammar mistakes, and once again, some canon divergence with a Nightwing!reader/life long friend!reader but it’s not really important to the plot at all so you won’t even notice.
Word Count: 4,407
You swallow firmly as your boots clunk against the ground. The music blaring from the DJ booth below echoes off the walls of the club, the sound ricocheting through your eardrums and back out again. The metal floors of the balcony vibrate underneath you, threatening to fall onto the packed crowd on the dance floor.
Summary: You haven’t seen Bruce for weeks now. He’s been so busy being Batman that he’s seemingly forgotten about you. You’ve accepted a job offer in another city and haven’t been able to tell him. Will he convince you to stay? Reader uses she/her pronouns.
Warnings: Angst with fluffy ending because I need happiness.
Word Count: 4038
A/N: I finally got around to writing my Battinson x Reader fanfic! I have more ideas, but I’m in the middle of finals which is why this took so long to get to. Hopefully in a few weeks I’ll have more time to dedicate to writing but for now, I hope you enjoy this!
No matter how many times you walk up the steps to Wayne Manor, it’s still intimidating. You and Bruce had been best friends since you were kids. Your first encounter was not one you’re particularly proud of.
You were born into poverty and grew up knowing that money was hard to come by. Though you were young, you wanted to help your mom financially—that is, before she abandoned you—so you became a pickpocket. It was easy since your height made you hard to notice.
You had only done it a few times when you made a mistake. You noticed the Wayne family out and about one day. They weren’t surrounded by security, so you saw your chance. Even as a kid you knew about the famous Waynes. You looked at them and then noticed a nice-looking watch on young Bruce’s arm. Apparently, you had picked the wrong target.
As soon as you touched the watch, Bruce turned around and looked at you. You froze, your instincts telling you to run but you were too scared to move. Bruce looked confused. He then looked at his watch and then back to you, figuring out what it was you were after. Your face felt hot and just as you turned to leave you saw Bruce taking off the watch.
“I never liked it anyway,” he said to you. Your confusion only grew when he extended his arm with the watch in his open palm. You were too scared and confused to move. But Bruce just pushed his arm out further.
After months of stolen glances and stilted conversation, Bruce Wayne finds it in himself to go after you. But there’s something about him that’s hiding, & you’re not sure you want to find out what that is.
pairing:bruce wayne (2022) x f!reader tags:18+ ONLY, explicit, “friends” with benefits, angst, bruce is stifling his feelings, receiving oral, unspoken emotions, emotionally stunted bruce :( word count:3.7k+ a/n: this is my first time writing 2022 bruce and it was a strugglebecause i just want fluff all the time lol. going from a character who’s 100% honest abt his feelings to one who is the saddest, most emotionally arrested guy ever was a feat lol but i hope yall like it!!
Bruce never looked at you during sex. He could barely look at you outside of sex, his eyes always cast downward when you went for a visit with your Aunt Dory, grumbled greetings and his voice hushed when he spoke to her, sparing you a glance or two.
Despite his best efforts to keep you at a distance, he couldn’t help himself when you showed up one day several months after your first visit. When you found him lounging in the library, hunched over an open book with the fireplace roaring, he’d told you Dory had gone out of town for personal reasons.
“Oh, alright, well. I’ll uh, I’ll give her a call. Thanks, Mr. Wayne.” As you’d turned to leave, he shut the book and stood up, strolling over to the doorway, hands in the pockets of his black sweats.
He hovered near you, shoulders drawn inward as he tried bringing himself down to your height, “You can stay, if you want.”
Still not looking at you, he inched closer, fixing your bodies in the corridor before he reached around you to grab the door handle. He was closer now than he’d ever dared to be before, the wide berth of the door affording you time to answer the question he postured. An unspoken inquiry as to whether you’d duck under his arm to leave, abandoning the prospective culmination of months marked by loaded stares, or stay and give in to the sallow mystery standing before you.
A note from Lucy:Oops, my hand slipped. Bruce is now in therapy. And you should be too. Yes I wrote this instead of revising for that all important psychology paper two tomorrow. Yes, that was the aim. Also, I KNOW, it’s not a healthy therapist/client relationship…but this is fiction, people, GODDAMN IT! IT IS WHAT I WANT IT TO BE! I also know that this is shitty…i’ll get round to editing it properly later (maybe?). But that’s not the point- the point is…Follow the batboys lead, get some help (and let me know if you want a part two). Now shut up, Lucy, go to sleep, its 2:40 am here and you have exams-
“We spoke last week about coping mechanisms; More specifically, living with this anger you described.” You were flipping through your notes from the last session you two had and what seemed the most pressing at the moment to Bruce. Bruce nodded from his seat in the chair opposite you. He was sort of slumped into it, his head lowered into his chest as he avoided eye contact. Or maybe it was just to avoid the mere sight of you. “You said you get frustrated often.” That same glassy look occupied his face, very brooding and serious. And then his brow creased. He shook his head in another curt nod. “What with?”
For the first time in twenty minutes he looked at you. Which was impressive considering it was an hour long session today. Something dangerous flashed behind those blue eyes. Bruce was hiding something. You could tell from the way he shifted in his seat, the way he closed himself off from you, the person he had come to in order to ‘open up’.
“People.” You raised your eyebrow, aiming for an elaboration. But Bruce seemed entrapped by something hidden in his mind.
The feeling of his fist colliding with skin shot hot thrills through his spine. The bruising peppered over his knuckles would have been a sign to reign it in but he just couldn’t. Not when the feeling of the thugs bone cracked under his own clenched, balled hand was screaming to be felt again. It was electrifying.
Not all people crave physical contact in the same way. Some people seek it out in violence.
“Their disrespect.” You have gotten used to these one or two word answers. Mr Wayne was certainly a silent man. But you had a feeling it was loud in his own head. A person’s head is his own space for him to voice his thoughts. Not everyone feels the need to let their opinions be shown in the stentorian daylight colours. It was such a specific hue that not everything looked as pretty as it was once earlier perceived. Lighting can be everything.
“For what?”
This man had been following a woman for the past few blocks and Batman had been following him. It was all about timing with this duty. He never went into something without taking the correct precautions. That’s why he waited until now to drag the man’s flailing body into a dark alleyway to be dealt with.
His hand clamped down like a vice over his mouth, the attacker’s hands flying to his own aid as he clawed at Batman’s arm. His nails were nowhere near enough to even scratch at the armour the Batman had on. It was at the dead end of the alley that the man was flung at the wall, his hood falling off to reveal a skinhead beneath.
The figure of vengeance and darkness itself didn’t say a single word as the man uttered out pleas to be let go and that he ‘would never do it again’. And he didn’t say anything when pummeling him into the grubby concrete, a steady stream of blood dribbling from his chin now, swirling with saliva, the mixture lacing his gums and teeth that looked darker in these specific shadows.
“For you?” He looked almost disgusted that you would ask such a question, anger heating slightly in the pit of his stomach, yet not to a boil. That frustration you spoke of soon entered the equation again. You knew from the way his fists clenched, almost gouging at the armrests to the chair opposite you. His knuckles, usually purple, drew white from the tension held so stubbornly within them. The sharp bone of his knuckles kept his skin tight, cracking them slightly as he ignored the new sting as his old cuts opened up.
“You think I have a superiority complex?” You shook your head with a small chuckle. Superior complex? No. Saviour complex? Maybe…you didn’t know enough yet.
“You haven’t answered my question yet. You answer mine, I answer yours. That’s how a conversation works, Mr Wayne.” He had grown accustomed to your slight humour in the past few and a bit months. He would be lying if he didn’t find it attractive in some way.
“For other people.” You noted this down on the page of your notebook. Bruce let out a drawn out breath, looking just out of your eyeline. Back to square one. As per usual.
“And that’s what-“ you paused, trying to think of a way to put this, “makes you angry.” There was a pregnant pause between your question and his answer, setting you on edge slightly.
“It confuses me more than anything.” You sighed in relief internally.
“How so?”
“I have a voice in my head. People’s blatant disrespect sets it off.” You furrowed your brow when Bruce hid back into himself, his hands meeting in his lap now to fiddle with his already blunt nails. Bruce felt his stomach twist and his throat tighten. Never before had he spoken about him with you. He was too terrified of letting something slip.
Rain poured into his eyes, running down the sharp slope of his nose, down the cowl that sealed his identity from Gotham’s vicious headlines, and tabloids, and criminal population. His teeth gritted- his hands tightening around the throat of a man he cared not about. Part of him felt a rush from having his life quite literally in the palm of his hands.
Their eyes soon tinted red, face burning up red, then purple, his lips becoming blue. The sight must have grounded him, prying this murderous thought from his blackened mind, for his gip loosened.
The man slipped away, scurrying off…and the Batman stared down at his gloved hands in disgust. He didn’t want to be a killer.
“What’s so bad about this voice?”
“It’s violent,” he said, not missing a beat. Something flagged in your mind. He answered too quickly for him to not have thought about this before. The man’s chest rose with an inhale, but did not fall with an exhale. You continued slowly, noticing how his shoulders drew up and he tensed.
“Why do you think that is?”
“There is violence in everything.”
“Could you think of an example?” He studied you for a second, striking blue eyes darting around your face. Studied you the way you study ice to see if it’s safe to walk on.
“Stars. We watch them burn to relax. That’s not beautiful. That’s destructive.”
“And you see people as the same.” He nodded. “The voice contributes to that, I’m guessing.”
“Sometimes I find it hard to separate it from the rest of my thoughts. It’s there to be what I feel I can’t be as Bruce Wayne.”
“It’s too often that our own worst enemy is the version of ourselves we create in our own head. And it’s difficult because it’s a part of you and therefore knows what gets you the most. We have to remember that this voice would be nothing without Bruce Wayne. But Bruce Wayne is still everything without it.” You purse your lips, thinking of what to do next. Bruce Wayne was too much of a puzzle to know right off the bat. “Have you tried journaling?”
It always took Bruce a while to shed the skin of The Batman. Every night he would take off the cowl, the suit, the boots, the gloves. But it was never enough. He was still left with those thoughts that he had to remember. Pushing himself. Finding a limit. And pushing it some more.
Bruce’s thoughts tangled into the Batman’s and he struggled with which identity was who. Bruce got angry, The Batman cowered in shadows. Sometimes he would go out, a mix of him and this monster he made. A drifter. Dark circles from sleepless, troubled and haunted nights hid under black paint pasted over Bruce’s eyes. Or maybe it was Batman’s eyes? The eyes of vengeance personified. He had no idea who they belonged to anymore. When he saw violence it was the Batmans. Any other time they were Bruce’s. He loathed it,
The Batman could not quail…or this whole idea was for nothing. He needed a way to separate the two. Or maybe merge them together completely?
He shook his head, “No.”
“You could try it. A few of my other clients use it to ‘thought track’ as it were. When they feel scared, or confused,” you said, gesturing to him, ‘they write it down. They say it helps to see the words on paper before they have a chance to…run away and hide, per say.” He was silent. Bone chillingly so. It was hard to see through the shadows the higher planes of his face created, but he grimaced.
Offering a small smile to him, you closed your notebook. This whole conversation- hell, whole session- couldn’t help but get you thinking as you paused, noticing how he shifted again in his seat. “This is off record, I won’t write it down…but-” You tried not to stare him down and give the worried-shrink-look. “Do you, as just Bruce, feel threatened by this voice and the expectations it places upon you?”
‘Shit’, he thought.
Maybe you had found out? He went to shake his head ‘no’, but paused halfway through. He couldn’t bring his eyes to meet yours, you were looking so intently at him that it almost burned up his neck. An army of goosebumps arose on the back of his neck.
“Sometimes.” The man croaked. It was hardly a whisper out of his lungs and more an exhale. Your pupils traced along the sharp contours of his face, his jaw, the slope of his nose, still in that contorted, painful position. His jaw was set on edge as if he was clenching his teeth together so hard they would crack. He felt he might crack. He couldn’t crack. His head swayed from left to right. You tilted yours, your tongue drawing your bottom lip into the confines of your teeth. “It takes a lot to ignore.”
“Do you ignore it because of this pressure?”
“I think…It’s hard to tell. I don’t know if I want that to be Bruce Wayne. I don’t know what else to do to stop it interfering with my life.”
You found it interesting how as soon as you had closed your book he had started to say more. Not limiting himself to a few words each time you asked a question.
“There are many things to help deal with intrusive thoughts, Bruce.” You crossed your legs, the position you were once in growing uncomfortable as you leaned forward in your seat slightly. “Exercise, diet…sleep.”
“I exercise.”
“Regularly?”
“Daily.” You didn’t know why it was such a shock. It’s not like he wasn’t a conventionally attractive man to look at. But he seemed to hide beneath the layers of loose and dark clothing. Today’s choice being a pair of deep blue jeans and a black long sleeved t-shirt. Nondescript. Under the radar. That was Bruce Wayne in a nutshell.
“What-” But Bruce had pre-empted your question before the words had the chance to escape your lips.
“Boxing. Martial arts.” The bruises on his knuckles made more sense now. How they never seemed to fade. It was something you made a note of in your very first session. “I don’t want to cause harm to people that don’t deserve it.”
Bruce’s keen blue eyes flicked over to the clock above your head and then the window to where it had started to grow dark under the thick blanket of Gotham’s smog. He had done this a total of five times so far this session. It added a hint of reason behind his skittish nature. The bounce of his leg and the way he seemed…elsewhere. “I have to go.” He stood up much faster than you did…or could have even anticipated. Something didn’t add up to you. He was definitely hiding something from you.
“Goodbye.”
“Uh-” He was gone. Out the door. Just after slinging his jacket over his shoulders. You moved to the window, eager to see him go. Maybe the reason for his abrupt departure lay outside on the grimy street below. He jogged down the steps to the building, glancing up at the sky before continuing with his hood drawn up down the pavement, the only trace of him being his breaths made visible from the biting cold air. You leaned forward, cheek almost pressing up to the cold glass pane, trying to get a glance at the sky. It was out, the bat symbol. He was out.
“Goodbye, Mr Wayne.” You muttered, moving to your desk and taking a seat there, opening up your notebook to translate rough notes into his file.
Hasn’t tried journaling yet…ask about it next session → maybe to see it.
Something certainly didn’t make sense here as the mystery of Bruce Wayne seemed much deeper than meets the eye. No. There was definitely more. Something darker. It smelled of mystery, made your head hurt to think about and caused a prickling of curiosity to ignite at your fingertips. Taking your pen, it took a moment for it to reach the paper, but when it did you scribbled out anything and everything he had said the moment you had closed your notebook.
“Feel threatened by this voice”…“the expectations it places upon you”…
“I don’t know if I want that to be Bruce Wayne”
His knuckles, usually purple, drew white from the tension held so stubbornly within them. They never seemed to fade.As soon as you had closed your book he had started to say more. Under the radar. Bruce’s keen blue eyes flicked over to the clock above your head and then the window. It was out, the bat symbol. He was out.
A gasp ripped from your lungs as your pen tumbled from your hands, clattering to the lino floor. In the rush of your thoughts you had drawn a mindmap to try and organise the chaos and it has worked. It all made sense now. Each branch linking together and each bubble providing another piece of evidence for your hypothesis. And in the centre; a name. His name; Bruce Wayne.
summary: being adopted into one of the most wealthy families in Gotham would have been a dream come true if it were any other family but yours. when your beloved grandfather dies and names you the heir to everything, all hell breaks loose and the only people who don’t want you dead are your exes Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle.
trigger warnings: violence, blood, injuries, mentions of abuse, illness, soft dom!selina switch! bruce, praise k!nk,someone said bruce wayne cries after sex and i support this.DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE NOT 18+
You watched Bruce’s car go off into the distance, the reality of going back into the house you were planning on running away from only a few hours ago finally starting to sink in.
“ You know, I’ve always liked that boy.” Greta said as you walked into the kitchen, clothes still damp from the rain.
“ He just gave me a ride home Greta, I don’t think Mom was going to let me carpool after what just happened. Oh god, you don’t know, do you?” Greta nods, sliding a mug of hot tea into your hand.
“ I’ve known for quite some time dear, just as I also know that if I go look in my purse right now, I’ll find triple my salary.” Greta laughs at the bewilderment on your face, patting your hand.
“Did you honestly believe your grandfather was going to leave you with nothing? I remember the day your mother brought you home, how scared you were of everything and everyone. Your grandfather was far from a perfect man but when you came into this house, you brought him the one thing he had been missing.”
“ Good publicity?”
“Hope. Your parents adopted you as a publicity stunt, you know that, I know that, and your grandfather knew it too but you managed to reach him in a way his children did not and they hate you for it. The things they did and continue to do to you under this roof I shudder to think about. Your grandfather and I should have done a far better job protecting you-
“ Greta, it wasn’t your fault-
“No, let me finish. Every adult in your life has failed you in one way or another, including me but you have not and will not fail yourself.” Greta said, wiping away your tears and her own.
“ But what do I do now? What if I just took the money and ran? They’ll be back soon and I’m not sure I can face them yet.”
“I can handle them. I know you want to leave and if you did, no one would blame you. But there’s a benefit tonight, usually your uncle goes in your grandfather’s stead but if you’re feeling up to it and want to get out of the house a little longer, I can have a car ready in five.”
The tea cold in your hands, you weigh your options which seem to be running away for good, hiding upstairs until your family comes home, or going to a party where you won’t know anyone.
“ I don’t have anything to wear.”
Before you know it, you’ve outside of a gala, not exactly where you thought you’d be tonight but you’re there nonetheless. You’re barely out of the car before journalists spot you and it takes everything in you to not do your usual routine of pretending you’re invisible.
“You’re the richest woman in Gotham now, how does it feel?”
“Who are you wearing?”
“Will you be spending your money on yourself or charity?”
“Where’s your date?”
“Gotham is well aware of my grandfather’s history of philanthropy and I hope to continue good work in his name. I understand what it is like to be without money, food, or shelter, and no one should have to feel that way. I acknowledge the place of privilege I am at now but I am committed to putting my money towards the people who need it and not those who seek to make a profit. I’m excited to get to work.”
Where the fuck did that come from?
The pretty words and a shy smile flow out of you way too easily as you move away from the press line, making your way into the party. The hard part was done, now you could just eat some shrimp puffs, drink champagne in a corner before going home to face your no doubt vengeful parents. All you had to do now was-
“ Would the richest woman in Gotham care to dance?”
That voice.
That silky, life altering voice that brought you to your knees at one time in your life and even now had you wobbling in your heels as you turned around to face what had to be a ghost.
“Selina?”
Hope you enjoyed this sneak peek! I’ve got some irl stuff that’s just popped up but I hope to have this finished up soon! See you soon and thank you for reading!
The stains of red on her ledger from her time spent with them spanned back further to a dim time she preferred to forget. The mission had struck her interest instantly and Ra’s knew it without a firm acknowledgement from her. It had all been leading up to this, a thought in the back of her mind each day. To right the wrong and confirm the true agenda behind her family’s murder. Vengeance was a key motivator and a cruel killer of the innocence within the child from before. She knew to hold this sword would be the last part of her trauma reviving to live another day and extinguish the girl that was once there all those years ago.
Bruce’s knowledge of the League was scarce, a slight encounter with a few assassins and whispers of the Demons’ Head around Gotham’s elite criminals. And so, unveiling all that was a part of her would ruin everything they’d built together since the moment they saved each other from a far greater destruction at their own hands.
Whispers of the pained cries and yells reverberated in her head. The orders and strike of a blade, ripping her skin for lost attention, something she would pay far greater focus to avoid in the upcoming training. Each day, working to be the better version of yourself; all to attain the revere of the teacher. To hold the title of the skilled and disciplined meant achieving the status of a shadow, including completing initiation. The first kill is-was always the most difficult. The hesitation and the voice telling you not to raise the blade. But you came this far, why stop now? You did everything in the name of your family. They were not offered the same mercy, nor were their innocence or good deeds regarded. Each time, each mission, she stared into the face of corruption and greed with the mindset of something far greater in mind; the people she was saving by preventing the anguish unleashed by these criminals.
In the veil of her thoughts that rushed through her mind, she managed to open the front door before collapsing against the hard wood and sliding to the floor. A dread washed over her body, a melancholy echo that wrecked her as she hushed cries beneath a shaky palm. Sobs wracked Y/N’s body while she breathed in and out, the image of Bruce’s disappointment fresh in her mind. Regret for having trusted someone when the facts pointed toward contradiction.
***
A pang struck Bruce’s chest, watching the close of the elevator receding to the top floor. The remnants of hushed whispers hinged a stillness within the air that his mind rewound to navigate. He flickered from the place where she stood with shaky eyes, clutching the drive tightly as it disappeared in his hand.
His body moved of its own accord, travelling to the computer and logging the familiar details as he plugged the drive into the port. And it began.
The images flashed in his eyes, one after the other with each click. A flourish of files and photographs; assignment details, locations, collection data. From whom, Bruce wasn’t too sure. Save for blackened lines, the facts important to him was an image he stopped on. His heart dropped, bracing over the realisation coming to fruition.
The reflection illuminated in his eyes as he ran over the features once more. A branch of the past, a more youthful version of the woman he knew, but this one held a much greater contempt in her eye. A distrust of the world holding her guard up and close by to void off the hurtful grasp of the world around her. And with it, she held her weapon in haste, a forward act in for vengeance in this cruel world. Through all of it, Bruce halted, his hand moving from the screen as his head drew to the desk. The pieces of her left behind in the jumper she borrowed form him thrown over the work desk, or the sticky notes she left behind to remind him to eat and sleep, to do all of the things he often forgot.
The creaking of the elevator reached his ears and soon Alfred calling his name before Bruce recognised the man standing over his shoulder. Alfred’s voice grew hushed as he looked back at the screen. The masked figure, the bottom of their face covered with the eyes clear for them to see. The files rushed away, a hand pulling the drive out with a click as Bruce’s glazed eyes defaulted to his hands clutching the drive. Alfred had just left from the office after witnessing the fallen tears streaking her face as she halted in her step, a guilty look tearing her face before she stepped away and shut the front door behind her.
“Bruce…”
The man’s mouth shut in response, unsure of where to go with his mind torn between the truth and the image he had of her in his mind. What lies therein in the truth of what you know and have learned versus the supposed truth handed to you. How did one discern perception from facts when emotions were involved. Such strong feelings as these tied the strings around Bruce’s hands and heart as it constricted with an overwhelming pull toward the depths of uncertainty. Not knowing was something Bruce was familiar with, but always dismissed its choking hold and turning to uncover the truth.
“I don’t know what to do.” he confessed.
Alfred blinked, glancing down at the distraught on Bruce’s face. The glint in his eyes every moment they spent together, something he had become unfamiliar after his parents passing. The glossiness to Bruce’s eyes as he clutched the drive with a determination to hold the answer and yet it faulted with each tragic second.
“I think you do.” Alfred murmured, “I think you know better than anyone. All of our actions are not what define us. Our past isn’t a clear track into our future. I think you know exactly how you feel about her, Bruce. You need to decide for yourself.”
A beat passed as Bruce exhaled and Alfred’s response arrived, a murmur in the quiet.
“Do you want to know what I see in that photograph?”
“I see a cruel world. A girl trying to survive with the cards that she’s been dealt. If you care for her, you’ll talk to her. About why she is here.”
***
A stillness resided over the house, just as it had a few days prior. No word from Bruce solidified the answer in her mind to the latter of her presumptions on his impression. She had been afraid of this result all along, and yet, it was still better than the depths of her nightmares where the darkest realms of guilt and horror existed.
Tears dropped down her cheeks, a huff escaping Y/N while she looked through the window into grim day sweeping the street. It was a brutal cold that bit at anything it could reach, sweeping the barren streets in a mist that nipped at your fingers and consumed your lungs. Although, the knock at her front door was more so a stilting event, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Y/N’s sight wavered as she caught the gaze of the person upon opening the door.
A shaky breath escaped her, echoing his name as she stared at him, unsure of what exactly to expect. She closed her agape mouth and read his expression, gulping down her anxieties as she held the door open for him. He was in his right to answers, if that was what he came there for. She stared down at the coffee table between them, Bruce stood opposite, not moving to take a seat on the couch.
“Aren’t you going to ask if I…” he breathed, unsure if he was truly going to say it until she visibly recoiled.
“I don’t think I need to.” she gulped, “Whatever your reasons are for being here, I can’t-” she clenched her eyes shut. “I can’t fault for you wanting to know the truth. Whether you read it or not. I-I understand-”
“The betrayal? Guilt?”
His words struck her as Y/N whipped her head up, witnessing the masked calm in Bruce’s eye replaced with an intensity she couldn’t quite discern. She fell quiet, waiting for him to continue while he studied her closely. “You lied to me, and you never once said anything about it.” he wore an inquisitive look as he stood tall in his dark coat. “If there’s anything I know well, its loss.”
She remained quiet, watching him with this unsure look that he hadn’t witnessed before. He wasn’t sure if she would blink with how she trained her focus on him, almost unassured if he would disappear at any moment and leave.
His throat grew tight while he restrained a shiver from the memories, “Alfred could tell you better, all of the summers I spent looking for something-somewhere to belong.”
Bruce looked over at her figure leaned against the bench, arms held to her chest, not protectively, but certainly guarding something rather close to herself. The unsettling silence between them was obvious with the shivers running along his arms. Discerning where they stood was just another uncomfortable conversation left unspoken.
“I’ve been looking for something to give me purpose. The Batman was one part of it, but it was the people of this city that showed me who I needed to be.” he exhaled, “I needed something to run toward.”
He closed his eyes, squinting behind the burning sensation as the sight of her unshed tears moved him. “I don’t care about your past. Whether you tell me or you keep those parts to yourself…Your future is my privilege.”
She whispered his name, confusion filling her until he retrieved something from his pocket, revealing the tarnished remains of the drive in many pieces. Wide eyed, she flickered from his palm to his eyes, an almost dream-like state gazing upon the source of every tarnished memory.
“Why-you had every right to read it and to know.” her face twisted.
“I know the kind of person you are from here and now. I don’t need to know everything about your past to understand where you stand now.”
She finally felt the pressure release from her chest, tears falling free before she felt Bruce’s arms pull her into his chest. Her fingers clenched around his coat, scrunching the fabric as she inhaled the familiar and comforting cologne.
“You have no idea how glad I am to hear those words.”
Bruce rested his chin on her head, sighing in relief “I couldn’t bear to lose you. I thought it over enough and through everything…you never hesitated. I am sorry I didn’t do the same.”
She shook her head, returning to catch his gaze “I wouldn’t have expected any different. You deserve to know.”
“And that is entirely up to you. I-I want you to do this on your terms. Not because of someone’s agenda.” his fingers wiped her cheeks, causing Y/N to gently shut her eyes and her breath hitched.
She nodded her head encouragingly, truthfully walking into a path of acceptance and entrusting him with every part of her, “I’m ready.”
“Bruce,” she spoke up, following closely behind his step toward the computer. The entire ride back to the Tower had been silent, the echoes of Talon’s voice reverberating in her mind and surely Bruce’s with the unsettling feeling between them. He shrugged the cowl off, the sound of her repeating his name and yet he remained in his own head.
“The sins…of the father.” he whispered, cutting into her thoughts as she stared at him with bated breaths leaving her mouth. “This is what my family’s legacy has come to.” He whispered, “More lies than I can keep track of, it seems.”
A choked sound built in his throat while Y/N watched, hesitance behind her actions as he unravelled before her.
“Alfred always talks of how great the Wayne legacy is…beginning to think it’s another thing they created.”
Her hand reached out to him, falling on his shoulder with his name falling from her lips. His head shot up, darting back to her at the sensation of her touch.
“What did he mean?” his lips set into a frown, an unsettling feeling sinking into her stomach. “He knew about your life outside of Gotham. More than I do-more than you’ve shared.”
She tilted her head, her shaky gaze flickering between his eyes. He lifted something into her sight, bringing forth the Riddler’s card, the one addressed to her.
“Anything else I should know?” he mused, allowing the card to fall onto the desk.
“Let me explain,.” desperation was clear in the tremble of her voice.
He huffed, leaning his gloved hands against the desk, “I thought we trusted each other. What aren’t you telling me?” his voice low.
“Bruce-” she stepped forward, freezing at the fury building in his eyes.
He exhaled deeply, “You want me to be honest with you? I expect the same in return."
"I never expect you to understand my entire story, but there are parts of my life that I don’t share. That I can’t.” she gasped, holding herself up.
A hurt look crossed his face, “I-haven’t I been clear? After everything we’ve been through together and you come back to this?”
“You don’t understand.” she repeated, helplessly searching for reprieve as he seemingly exploded.
“I don’t! You’ve always seemed closed off, but-”
“-This coming from Gotham’s recluse.” she finally bit back.
“At least I am honest about what I mean.“
Her eyes shook, “I have never lied to you in the time that I’ve known you, Bruce.”
“Omittance is still a lie.” he replied, swallowing his words.
She shook her head, “Why can’t you understand-”
“Because, frankly I don’t think I know you all that well.”
“You know me.” she nodded frantically, “You do.”
“I apparently don’t even know myself. How is that for starters?” he replied, a bitter taste residing on his tongue.
“Bruce,” she pleaded, voice dropping to a whisper as he shook his head.
“I don’t know what I was thinking about this.”
“What do you-what do you mean?”
“How can I trust you? I clearly don’t have yours." he shook his head.
"That isn’t true-” she pleaded with him, urging to grasp his hand when he pulled back once more.
“-Then what are you hiding from me? What-what are you holding so close to your heart?”
She stared at him, gaze unwavering as a silence took over the room. The unnerving lack of sound now that he paused jolted her as her heart thundered in her ears.
"I never told you because I knew you would realise I was never who you thought I was.”
A beat passed between them as he looked down at her and the guilt laced in her expression, “How could you know that?”
"Because I’ve seen first hand what happens-” her voice strained, “Is it so crazy that I don’t want to be alone? I am afraid of losing you.” She dipped her head, gulping down the tension in her throat, “I have never intentionally lied to you, Bruce. Not out of spite…or hate, or anything of that kind.”
“Just…tell me the truth.” his gaze fell on her unsettled figure, waiting on an answer.
Inhaling deeply, she wrenched the last parts of her resolve, “Please, understand I did this because I care about you, Bruce. I care about what you think of me.” She pulls something out of her pocket, reluctantly allowing it to drop onto the desk. His eyes flickered from her to the USB drive.
“You can read it all on there,” she exhaled shakily, “but I don’t care to see the look on your face when you’re finished.” gasping out the final words as she retreated from him to the elevator, averting her gaze to hide the tears wrenched from her eyes.
As the World Caves In (10/?) - Bruce Wayne x Reader
Summary: A lead takes a stark turn with the unexpected unravelling of secrets upon them.
Author’s Note: new chapter update from series. Will probably end at 16 parts. Comment to be tagged. Follows Court of Owls plotline.
Pairing:Bruce Wayne x fem! reader
Warning:canon-level violence, slight angst
Masterlist
The rain settled over the choking harvest of the evening as the city rested and the felons came out. It was an unsettling resonance that trembled along the street’s alleys, a shudder running up the spine at an echo around the corner. Rain pummelled against the windows of a towering hospice, the shadows darkening further upon a closer look between the rigid windows caving inward.
A window cracked from above, an opening to the outside as the rain dribbled through and a body dropped down. The figure slowly lowered their body from the line, waiting a moment before their accomplice followed. The room was empty, bare the furniture and table to the side. Looking at the Bat, she silently moved to the door, not wanting to alarm any person to their presence. Her hand slowly grasped the handle, opening it to allow a peek outside. The hallway was dark, an unsettling silence resting over the barren level. The pair glanced at each other, unassured and followed through as they cautiously stepped toward the room in question.
A palpating noise thundered in her ears in front of the door, a hand ghosting over the blade on her back. Not a moment sooner, did his hand cover her’s and he looked down at her, sensing her hesitation and twisted the handle. The door fell open and her heart shuddered at the true darkness enveloping the room. A waft reached them, the choking smell of rot causing her eyes to water as Bats shone a light to the dark.
Confusion fills her room, a shiver ran down her back at the sight of the people surrounding the grand table. The chilling silence blanketed by the vacant look in some of their eyes, others resting their heads blankly on the table. Her feet wandered, crossing to the nearest person. Bruce studied them, slowly moved around the table to capture every detail and more closely to the head of the table. Her hand ghosted a woman’s neck, a lack of warmth from the bodies.
“All dead.” she remarked, “Poison?”
Bruce’s eyes drew to the bowls and cups placed in front of them, “Something like that.”
“The question is, who?” she glanced around the room, focused on the masks.
“It doesn’t make sense.” he paused.
She murmured in response, watching as he tilted his head and studied the layout. Something was missing from this setup, aside from the rest.
“They were a ghost not so long ago and now they’re all dead.” she turned to look at him pointedly. “What does that tell you?”
“In death, we take away your clarity.” he murmured, catching her gaze.
***
Bruce steadied her as they reached the roof before he looked over her shoulder at a moving shadow in his plane of sight, the eyes watching him from the rooftop opposite. Following his gaze, Y/N locked onto the beady eyes and her resolve hardened before they both moved in tandem to slink toward the departing figure. The Talon moved quickly, but the Batman was adept at tracking closely as he grappled them onto the rooftop.
Flipping onto her front, Y/N pushed off into a sprint on foot, Bruce on her heels. The Talon is close as he flipped and somersaulted to stay ahead. She stayed right up there until she flipped, throwing a dagger to catch him off guard. His wince gave Bruce the right opening to grapple and wrench the assassin back.
Wiping the blood from her mouth, she watched as Bruce and the Talon wrestle. The latter lands a blow that causes her to wince at the crack reaching her ears, a groan escaping Bruce before she moved forward and swiped her katana at his side. He dropped Bruce and turned toward her, releasing his own weapon to draw against it. He pushed forward and Y/N’s feet followed suit, losing her grip on the katana as he swiped at her hand with a claw.
A gasp hitched her breath as she darted out of the way of a strike, rolling onto her feet. Wide eyed, Y/N somersaulted into a stance and reached out for her fallen katana as Talon’s fingers brushed the handle. The weight in her hand pulled it back to her as she held it firmly, staring down her opponent. The eyes studied her for a glimpse before leaping off again. Bruce’s fist hit him, throwing him off before Y/N’s foot struck his chest. The two worked in time to meet each blow with a powerful response, throwing even her katana between them.
The final remark came with Bruce pummelled his fist into Talon’s windpipe, his back crashing against the ground with a final blow to the chest from Y/N. It’s not long before he’s restrained and the trickle of the rain becomes apparent along with the pounding of her heart.
The beady eyes stare back, a formidable wall that remains still and unmoving as Bruce’s hushed voice intercepts.
“You killed them. Why?”
A beat passed and no response was received before Y/N wrenched the mask off. Beneath it was a fairly handsome man with brown hair and a few scars littering his face. His expression was blank as he stared up at her and scanned before moving to Batman.
“What was your goal?” Y/N murmured, drawing the Talon’s attention with a twitch of the neck in her direction.
“I’m merely here to play to win. What are you doing?” he hinted.
“Not exactly a fair playing field when you pre-emptively murder your opponents.” Y/N chided.
“The Court of Owls doesn’t regard you as the threat you present yourself as.” drawing its gaze up. “You’re merely a speck in the line of millions that have come before. A cancerous cell to be cut out.”
“And the people in there? Where are the rest?” Bruce pressed, Y/N watching him in the corner of her eye.
A chuckle caught in his throat, the Talon resting on his knees “Always asking the wrong questions. Wouldn’t you rather know about your family, Bruce?”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed as his heart shuddered in his chest, glancing at Y/N in his periphery. The Talon turned to her, murmuring her name to watch her freeze.
“Their true part?” he paused, watching as the pair froze and a silence settled over the rooftop. “Both of your families have a history of philanthropy in Gotham. Surprise to no one, their hands are a little bit less than clean.”
“What are you talking about?” Bruce grunted.
Her grip was tight on the katana at her side, eyes shaking as the Talon tilted his head.
A laugh left him, “History. It’s all fabricated and whatever isn’t well, how could you tell the difference? In time, you’ll come to know that going against the Court, your end is imminent, as is the lifeline of the city’s fellow victors. Your own family had a large part in favouring the Court of Owls’ long work. Generations have seen it through. We Talons have been the ones handing out their favour.”
“You mean taking away their free will.” her gaze fell to Bruce’s clenched fists, “Murder.”
“You talk as if they deserve any better.” he chuckled darkly, “What you don’t know about Gotham is the people, no matter where they’re from, they are all if not easily corruptible. Even the likes of you-a little incentive, and it all comes down.”
The Talon turned, his eyes lingering over her “What a surprise you were. After all that your family staked in this city.”
The murmur of her name on his lips was unsettling, “Your return was nothing if not a reckoning.” striking a pang of nerves in Bruce’s chest at his words. Her eyes shook, refuting the claims with a clench of her jaw. “All of the names on your ledger,” he tutted, “The things I’ve heard…I’m frankly confused at the company you keep.” he smirked, “I thought we would suit each other far more-”
The next thing on his lips would refute everything she had built before she snapped, “I’ve heard enough-” she replied, stepping forward as a snap sounded and he lunged.
Striking her katana aside, he pulled her against his chest. Her hands pulled at the sharp claws to hold them back as the grip on her neck tightened and she gasped out a choking sound. Bruce’s furious expression stared at Talon as he held her close to his face, raising a fury as he reached for his weapon.
“While I’d love to stay and go over all of this, including all of your little secrets, I’d better be going.” whispering the last bit in her ear as she seethed, pressing away. He watched Batman narrow his eyes before he pressed her closer to his chest and took a step back. As Bruce reached for his utility belt, the Talon leapt off the roof and into the darkness.
Bruce overlooked the roof, his arms supporting her as she caught her breath. She assured him, brushing the gloved hand over her arm with the unsettling remnants of the conversation residing. It was when he refused to meet her gaze that sent a pang rushing through her chest. A silence cut through the thundering in his chest as he turned away. She reached her hand out, his name a desperate whisper on her lips, with the sway of his cape against her fingers, the lasting impression of his departure.
Summary: Bruce Wayne in his element as opposed to the Bat is a refreshing outlook.
Author’s Note: comment to be tagged!
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem! reader
Warning:none
Bruce leaned over at his desk, running over the last thing he had to sign off before he could officially leave the office that day. Back and forth comms between himself and Mayor Real had been the most of his business interactions, aside from the investigating he had been going over with Alfred and Y/N at all waking hours. Y/N had taken more time at the Tower to assist in the research, but there was something Bruce couldn’t pick out. He put it up to concerns over his last mission which evidently took a turn for the worst outcome, but they were on better terms. The uncertainty of trust between them was slowly edging away as Bruce found himself opening up to her more.
The beep of the intercom for his office drew Bruce out of his thoughts, “Yes?”
“Mr Wayne, Ms Y/L/N to see you?” his assistant’s voice rang through the intercom.
He pressed the button, “Yes, thank you. Send her up.”
“Right away, sir.”
A minute later Y/N walked in, catching Bruce’s eye as he looked up from the papers, “Hey,”
“Hi,” he replied, “I thought you went home already.”
“Not yet. I wanted to see you first.” she smiled warmly, ducking her head.
“Quite the view from up here.” She glanced at the view of the city and the bridge adjoining the different districts.
“You get used to it after a while.” Bruce murmured, drawing her back to him as she walked over and sat at the desk. His arm pressed against her leg as he looked up at her, curious about her sudden appearance.
“Of course, we’re not all privileged with this view though. I’d like to appreciate it for a bit.” she drawled.
“Is that the only reason you’re inclined to stay?” he mused, a glint in his eye. She looked down at him, pursing her lips as if considering the question.
“Not the only reason. No.” she shook her head, placing her hands on the collar of his blazer and flattening it down. He was wearing that suit she liked, the dark grey and black combo with his hair neatly combed back. Bruce looked good irrespective of his clothes or hairstyle and yet, she always found herself dumbfounded each and every time.
“I got a message from Hel. She did find something. It’s not much, but it’s more than just a whisper.”
He focused entirely on her words, allowing her to explain the entire thing. Helena had caught word from an informant, whispers of people going missing in the night. People turning up dead, vicious murders and no leads; just like their case and point.
“I’m more concerned about all of the cases we don’t know of. We know these people have been around for centuries, influencing Gotham. How many people have they silenced?” she stared down at him, eyes shaky. “What if my…”
Bruce interrupted her, grabbing her hand “Don’t think about the possibilities. Focus on now. What we do know.”
She exhaled a breath and nodded, “So if pretty much everyone works for them, who do we trust?”
“We can only trust each other. They have eyes and ears watching and listening around the city. No telling who is working for them.”
She clenched his hand, “Better to assume everyone is.”
Her eyes flickered down to the papers for the new Trust Fund, “Even the Mayor?”
“We have to carry on with appearances, that includes the company. And my interactions in the public eye.” he assured.
“Everyone is looking at you.” she noted, “Especially now with your involvement in the company.”
Bruce shrugged, averting his gaze “Better to keep their attention on me.”
“-than what?” she mused, leaning forward.
“People have always been watching me. I’m no stranger to all of the opinions and assumptions.”
“Yes,” she trailed off, urging him to continue.
He hesitated, “If the media catch wind of us together, there’ll be more attention on you…” he shook his head, “I know that it’s not something you asked for-”
“Bruce, what are you trying to say exactly?”
He paused, looking up at her “Being associated with me, I don’t know if it will make things worse.”
A sigh escaped her mouth, her hands finding placement on his shoulders “Bruce, nothing could draw me away from you, okay? I’m used to the media attention, remember? I can deal with journalists.”
He squinted his eyes, unassured “It’s not the journalists, moreso the unwanted attention from other sorts. It’s not hard to follow up or find your address.”
She gently grasped his face, “Bruce, I will be fine. I can protect myself and I will never be too far.”
The comment evidently had a quick effect, soothing his anxieties as he sighed.
“Besides, maybe getting out there will finally detract all the attention of all those admirers of yours.”
“What admirers?” his face twisted in confusion.
Her eyebrows perked up, a breathy laugh from Y/N as she clasped her hands around his neck, “I can’t tell if you actually have no idea or not, but, your name is not the only reason people stare at you.”
A glimpse of a smirk pulled at his mouth, ducking his head before he looked back at her. His eyes met Y/N’s, urging her to tell him more.
“The suit is a nice touch.”
“You like it?” Bruce murmured, his hands drawing to her waist as a content smile grew on her face.
“Considering everything that’s happened, I’m glad to be here.”
Synopsis :In whichBatmom (you), is HYPING Bruce up A LOT. Because like, have you seen the man ?? He IS handsome and smart and beautiful and brave and *insert more ramble here about how much of a simp we all are for Bruce Wayne*.
I realized something yesterday : I wrote HUNDREDS of stories of Bruce (or the kids) hyping Batmom up, but I don’t think I ever wrote a story where she’s the one hyping him up ?? I shall correct that fatal mistake in this story. Hope you’ll like it, as usual comments/reblogs are welcomed :) :
He hated himself for not being able to save his parents.
He hated himself for the way he treated Alfred after they died, and for the way he abandoned him to go train far away.
He hated himself for not being able to save everyone.
He hated himself because he knew he had issues, he knew he wasn’t well…yet he continued on the dark and lonely path of being “The Batman”. Vengeance itself.
He hated himself for not being able to save Dick’s parents.
He hated himself for not being able to convey his feelings properly, and to show how much he cared for that little boy. To show his love, the fatherly love he quickly felt towards him.
He hated himself because he wanted so much for Dick not to be like him, but could he ever achieve that ? Yes, the boy was happier and brighter, but if he stayed with him…Could Dick really have a good future ?
He hated himself because he knew he was violent and his ways weren’t always good. But at least…At least Dick was a good kid. It was good, that he went off by himself with the Titans, to cool down. And Bruce hated himself for missing him so much. Wasn’t this what he wanted ? To make sure Dick could move on, unlike him, who couldn’t forget his past ?
His hatred for himself went through the roof with Jason. He hated himself for not being able to protect him. He wanted to die, when he realized his son was still alive, hating him maybe even more than he hated himself (which was a feat). He wanted to die, and not feel anything ever again, when he lost his son, and when he realized what Jason became…He couldn’t save him…he couldn’t save him…
He couldn’t save Damian either. Nor could he be there when Tim needed him the most. And Cassandra ? Did he ever do anything good for her ? Ah, he couldn’t save Duke’s parents, if only he had killed the Joker…
Yes. Bruce hated himself so much, sometimes, it was unbearable. And so he hid his feelings, he pretended to be cold, to not care, even.
It was easier, to push everyone away. To keep them at bay, and act as if he didn’t feel anything. But the truth was…
The truth was that he felt everything.
He had always been an overly sensitive child, “hypersensitive”, they even said. And he had to beat this side of him down, to pretend he lost all feelings…It was vital, in a way.
He couldn’t survive otherwise, he couldn’t keep going if he always let his emotions out. He would not have survived his parents’ death. He would not have survived his son(s) death. He-
It was just easier. To hide the fact he hated himself so much. To hide all feelings. To pretend. His facade was so well polished, and perfected over the years !
But then-
Then you came along.
Yes. Bruce hated himself. Past tense.
There were still moments Bruce had a hard time to live with himself, and went back to old habits. But…
But ever since you entered his life, things changed.
Because you loved him. Wholly and unconditionally. And if someone loved him so much, someone he loved to death too, someone he found to be the most amazing person he ever met. If that someone loved him so damn much, then maybe…Maybe, he wasn’t so bad ?
Even when he was a jerk to you. Even in his darkest time.
You found him. Took none of his crap. Told him off, and brought him back on a way full of life.
No matter how hard things got, and oh, they sometimes became so hard you felt like you were not going to be able to keep going, you stayed.
And you told him. You told him how much you loved him, how important he was, how-
You made him believe it.
There were still moments he hated himself, and felt like he would fall back into old habits of punishing himself by pushing everyone away, and becoming “Vengeance” once again. But now…
Now he had you. And you never shied away from telling him how great he was.
Bruce hated himself, but you love him.
It’s funny, how someone can think another person is their savior.
Before you met Bruce, you were destined to have a certain life you knew you would’ve hated. And then you met him.
Your light.
You knew Bruce thought that you were the one who saved him, that you were the one who kept him together. Your husband always had a tendency to put you on a pedestal, and think you were the greatest human who ever lived.
The truth was, you desperately needed him. You were a highly flawed individual, and you were very aware of your flaws…except when he was with you.
He always knew what to say, how to make you feel safe and loved, how to make you feel like you were the most important person on the planet.
And it killed you to know how he could be so hard on himself sometimes.
You had made it your mission, long ago, to erase all those feelings inside him. You knew it was going to be a long journey. You knew there were times he wouldn’t believe you. Because you were the same.
You were the same.
Sometimes, you didn’t believe him when he told you you were the most beautiful woman he ever met, the one he loved the most, the only one he had eyed for (oh but if anyone could’ve told you : when you were in the room, he really did have only eyes for you, not noticing any other women nor men because you occupied all his thoughts).
You knew he didn’t always believe you…But you were never going to stop telling him how great he was.
You were NEVER going to stop hyping the love of your life up.
Before you even met him
“Have you heard of that guy, um, the rich one who just came back? Because (Y/N), he’s hot.”
“What ?”
It was too early in the morning for your best friend’s shenanigans. What, it wasn’t even 7 am, you were about to go buy coffee before going to school (it was exam week at your high school, you needed the caffeine), and here he was, talking to you about some random rich man who “came back”. Came back from where anyway ? Ugh, this SO didn’t interest you.
You were about to take an important maths test, you really didn’t care about some random handsome billionaire who was going to flaunt his wealth all around Gotham, pretending to care about the city while not doing anything to help it.
“Bruce Wayne, it’s Bruce Wayne ! You know, from THE Wayne family !”
“Ugh, yeah, I kind of got that from the fact his last name is “Wayne”…”
Your friend ignored your snarky comment, staring at the cover of the magazine you still didn’t even look at, where, you assume, was probably a picture of that “Bruce Wayne”.
You had faint memories of him. Years ago, he suddenly disappear from Gotham and like um, his butler ? His adoptive father ? You couldn’t even remember the guy’s name, but he told the press his “Master Wayne” (cringe) went to school abroad or something.
Again. You didn’t care. You had your head full of equations. You would’ve done anything for your best friend to STOP talking about that dude.
“Just look at him (Y/N), he’s so your type ! Come oooon !”
“Ugh, I don’t have a type, and you-”
He shoved the cover in front of your face, definitely forcing you to look at it and…Wow.
Oh.
Oh no.
Hewashot.
No. Fuck. No. Wait. Noooo, but your maaaaaths ! Damn your brain for going : “hot man + handsome face = you’re not going to remember Pythagoras’ theorem”.
“Shit.” You say, and your friend just looks at you with an expression that clearly means : “RIGHT ?! Told ya.”. You take the magazine, automatically reading the title of it.
“The prodigal son returns : after years away, Bruce Wayne is finally back in town. And he has a plan !”
You weren’t going to lie, you didn’t even care about the plan, kinda obnubilated by how hot he looked. Nooo, you thought you passed the age of having instant crush on random men !
“He looks like a douche.”
You say, trying to hide the fact that, annoyingly, your friend was right when he said that man was your type. Ugh, couldn’t he not look so ridiculously good smiling at the paparazzis like that ?!
“Well, he’s already hot as fuck, he can’t get all the qualities right ? That’d be unfair. He looks like such a himbo.”
You nod, and add : “a doumbo”. Your friend look at you curiously, and you say :
“Ya know, the combination of a himbo and a douche. Like, himbos aren’t always douche bags, but look at him, and his dumb sexy smirk. He must be a douche.”
“A doumbo. A himche ?”
“Some would say, a Douchbo.”
“A Himbouche, even.”
“Haha, himbouche. Sounds French and fancy.”
And that was all you needed to burst out into laughter. A well needed fit of laugh, before arriving in front of your maths test and realizing that…You can’t remember anything of your lessons, as the face of that “Himbouche” kept coming back into your head. Physical appearance didn’t even mean that much ! Personality was your jam ! Ah but with handsome men like that, how could you even pretend not to be interested ?
Ugh. It’s not like you’d ever had a chance to even meet him !
But you met him.
You could mock that cover all you wanted, the fact remained that you kept that magazine for a long time, too long to divulge it because it’s really embarrassing when you think about it.
Thanks the gods you managed to hid it from Bruce. He never even knew you owned that magazine, and like, good. He would’ve never let you hear the end of it.
You first met him at a gala, in which you felt very uncomfortable.
A charity, to open more libraries in Gotham. Your charity. You send him an invitation on the off chance he would come and…Here he was.
You noticed him instantly, but he was busy and you were definitely not going to introduce yourself first.
Somehow, you ended up speaking to a bunch of women you didn’t know the name of, but you often saw them in pictures participating in galas and such. They were probably rich. You had most likely Bruce Wayne to thank for them coming, because your charity ? Clearly not their crowd.
“So tell me, um…?”
“(Y/N).”
“Ah yes, (Y/N), what an adorable name.”
Could someone sound even faker ? Probably not. You could feel your eye twitch a little, but you promised yourself not to snap back at any possible donator. It was hard.
“So, tell me (Y/N), how did you manage to get Bruce Wayne to come here ? He usually only comes to um, important events. Not that your little thing isn’t, it’s just- you know.”
You did know. But you weren’t going to let this people intimidate you so you said :
“Actually, I don’t. Would you care to explain what you really mean ?”
That put them in an awkward position of course, because as much as these people were good at insinuating things and being snarky, they never seemed to outright speak their mind. Which often worked to your advantage.
The woman cleared her throat, and you said (regretting it immediately) :
“Bruce Wayne actually comes to a lot of the smaller events, and always donate gracefully to good cause. He’s clearly not the snobby man you think he is, just last week he was at a small neighborhood place which was trying to get money to open a basketball court in the Narrows. He’s amazing.”
All those years ago, when you called him a “himbouche” with your friend, you couldn’t be more wrong. His action spoke for themselves, he really turned the city around. Plus, he financed the Batman, which is something you couldn’t ignore. How great was that ?!
You might’ve spoken a little too vehemently, because the woman facing you smirked. One of those almost evil smirk which meant she was about to try to humiliate you. And indeed, she said, loud enough for everyone to hear :
“What, you have a crush on Bruce Wayne or something ? That’s cute.”
Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Murder was not on your list tonight. You smiled, of that same fake smile she harbored, and said :
“Please, who doesn’t ?”
You decided that it was easier to not even lie, to not pretend you don’t have a crush on the man. Because, well, you knew you were definitely not the only one. And there wasn’t any shame in having a little crush on someone.
Plus, the way that person said “that’s cute” really irked you. You were not about to let someone mock you like that. Even if you knew there were no chance that he’d be interested in you, the way they said it, “oh that’s cute” as if it was a given he’d never notice you, really made you mad.
“A crush on me, you say ?”
What ? No. Fuck. Ah. He was right behind you right ? Bruce Wayne ? Yeah. You were never going to turn around ever again. Ignoring him seemed like the rational thing to do.
Your flawless plan of not turning around was, however…Flawed. He literally just had to move in front of you. Which he did.
“Bruuuucie, how nice it is to see you !”
The woman instantly latched on him, but he downright ignored her, turning to you and saying :
“I’m Bruce Wayne, very nice to meet you (Y/N). Love your books..”
The rest was history. From that night, it seems, you two never quite managed to truly say “good bye” to each other.
************
“Did you mean it ?”
He asked, later that night. You two escaped on an isolated balcony, where no one could find you. It’s strange, how it seemed like you both had the same idea at the same time.
“What ?”
“What you said about me.”
“The…Crush ?”
“That too, but not only. The other thing, about me making Gotham a better place.”
“Ah, of course I meant it. It’s plain to see you really do. Surely, you’ve heard that before ?”
He lets out a little self-deprecating chuckle, and turns his face towards the sky.
“Well, I guess a lot of people do say that. But I don’t think many of them truly mean it. So, thank you.”
He turns to you, and he smiles. A pure, almost child like smile. A real smile. Not the one you saw on his face countless times in magazines, or on TV.
Wow.
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
Your heart beat so loud, you were sure he could hear it.
What a smile. The most beautiful you’ve ever seen. Without exaggeration, you were sure that smile could brighten an entire room easily.
“I don’t think many of them truly mean it”, those words sounded so lonely. Like you caught a glimpse of his true self, right before he hid behind his mask again. How come a man like this didn’t think people really meant it, when they said he was amazing ?
That blew your mind.
You promised yourself that night, that if you ever were to meet him again, you’d make sure to always give him the compliments he deserved.
In Private
It’s early in the morning.
A moment you both loved and dreaded.
Loved, because the first thing you saw as you woke up was your beloved husband. Dreaded, because it usually meant you wouldn’t see each other the entire day, as you both were very busy. And then, there was that all Batman gig…
But for now, for now, you’re both waking up, and you’re in each other’s arms.
He rolls on top of you, hands on each side of your shoulders, and smile.
Ah, that pure smile you love so much.
“What a handsome man…” you say, as you put your hands on his cheeks.
He lays his face in the crook of your neck, and you know it’s because he’s trying to hide his reaction.
“You getting shy on me big man ?” the amusement is evident in your words, and he grumbles but you feel his lips quirk up on your skin. And that’s enough to make you feel content. And to make him feel butterflies in his stomach. Even after all this years, you still make him so happy with the simplest compliment.
************
“I love it when you smile…”
It took a long time, before you got to see his real smile. Not the one he arbored at gala, not the “Brucie Wayne” one, no. His real smile.
The one he had when looking at you, eyes full of fondness. A smile of utter contentment, he had only when with you, or his children.
Your comment makes him smile, and he’s about to say he loves yours too but you don’t even give him a chance :
“I love being with so much, I wish time could stand still when we’re together.”
“I feel the same..” he whispers, as you two instantly fall into each other’s arms.
“Bruce, I mean it.”
“I know. I do too.”
“No but, I truly mean it. I’m so happy I fell in love with you. When I hold you in my arms, I feel so lucky.”
Sometimes, he feels chocked up. It’s rare, and it always takes him by surprise. To be honest, most of the time, he’s the one to render you speechless with his beautiful words. He always had a knack with finding the perfect things to say to make you feel good about himself.
You did too, of course. Just, he was always better at controlling his emotions. Didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate your compliments of course.
But yes. Sometimes, sometimes it felt almost too good to be true. He was so sure, after his parents’ death, he would never know again what happiness was. And here he was.
In those moments, he’d hide his face in the crook of your neck. You knew what it meant, when he did that. Your words meant too much to him. So much, that he lacked the words to truly express it, and the only thing he could do was embrace you.
Oh. Oh you wished more people could see him like that. During moments he couldn’t hide his emotions, he couldn’t hide at all. During moments he showed his true self : a caring, loving, empathetic and emotional man.
It made you made, sometimes, that people thought of him as only a “machine”. Someone who could endure anything and everything. Someone who, anyway, didn’t feel anything.
As you often said : he feels everything.
Everything.
It’s not easy, to be the Batman. To endure. To keep it all inside.
So many people were wrong about him. So many people didn’t truly knew him.
Not the Vengeance. But the man who, even as he was utterly broken, kept fighting for what he believed in. Driven by love. Ah.
But in a way, you liked the fact you were one of the only person privy to his real feelings. And so, when he hid his face in the crook of your neck, you could feel nothing else but happiness.
************
“It’s so unfair.”
You say, breaking the silence reigning in the batcave. He’s been focused on the screen of his computer for a while now, and you caught yourself just staring at him. He acknowledge you though, as always, and he says, turning his head towards you :
“Mm ?”
“You are so handsome. Like, all the time.”
He smiles softly, but shakes his head. Of course, Bruce had always been aware he was a good looking man. He used that to his advantage many times. But when you said it, even after he heard you say it hundreds of times, he just felt all warm inside. Butterflies. Flustered. Like a damn teenage boy.
He turns back to the computer, not even realizing the smile has not left his lips yet.
************
Bruce kept it all in a special place in his heart. All your beautiful words, that made him feel like he wasn’t worthless. Like maybe, there was no reason to hate himself so much. He kept it all inside his heart, so that in tough moments, like fighting an intergalactic menace far from you and his family, he could plunge back in that part of himself and remember how loved he is.
This part of him kept everything, everything you told him over the years :
“You have my heart. I’m so glad you chose me.”
“The sound of your laugh is music to my ears.”
"I’m in awe of what a wonderful person you are.”
“You inspire me to be a better woman”.
“When I’m with you, I feel like I found what I was looking for.”
"I feel so safe with your arms around me.”
“Your presence brings the best out of me. I can’t wait to make more memories with you.”
“You make me so happy just by being yourself.”, you were probably one of the only person who loved him for who he truly was. For him.
"Being with you feels so right. Thank you for loving me.”
"I never get tired of looking at you. Of talking to you. Of being with you.”
“Hearing your voice brings me so much joy.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You always acknowledge the thing he did for you, too :
"Thank you for supporting me.”
"Thank you for looking after me.”
“Thank you for always being there for me.”
"Thank you for listening.”
You just always had a knack to hype him up ! :
"There is no one else like you. You are the best.”
"You always have the best ideas.”
"Adventures with you are my favorite. You always manage to make things interesting, even the dullest ones.”
"You make the world so much more beautiful. You know you’re the best, right ?”
“I’ll fight anyone who say anything bad about you.”
And if he ever said something along the line of : “You don’t have to.” You’d respond with : “Oh no but, I do.”
Alfred had always been supportive of him. And along his life, Bruce met countless people who praised him for whatever reason.
But nobody, nobody ever quite had your talent to hype him up. To make him feel like he was genuinely great.
Clark would say that your praise of him sometimes did him a disservice. Because, yes, your husband knew he was intelligent. And he could therefor be so damn arrogant. But his arrogance often hid, as most arrogant feelings do, a great sense of insecurity. As if him being smart was his only use in the world…
You made him feel like it wasn’t. You made him feel like being Batman wasn’t the only thing he had going on. So what if sometimes he was insufferable, he thought he was always right etc…You never once saw Bruce act as if he was superior to anyone.
You never understood this weird image following him. Sure as Brucie Wayne he played on being insolent and arrogant and all. But as Batman ? When did he ever truly make someone feel less than ? Never. That’s when.
On the contrary. Bruce often hyped others up, even if they didn’t notice (were there really a biggest Superman fan than him ? He just was subtil in his compliments).
Nobody ever said your husband was flawless. But his qualities vastly outweighed his flaws. You could bear with his “dark moments”, and him sometimes being a jerk, because you knew how great he truly was.
Hoping people can be perfect at all time is so unrealistic. And quite toxic, really.
Everybody makes mistakes.
Not everybody can try to better themselves though, like Bruce does. It drove you crazy that some people seemed to never notice how much progress he did. Ah, but you knew.
Bruce wasn’t selfish as some people said, he was selfless.
You knew.
You never wanted him to be perfect anyway, you loved him just as he was.
In Public
From the day he became your boyfriend, to when he turned into your fiancé, and now as your husband, you never shied away of being very vocal about how much you admired him. How amazing you thought he was.
************
“He’s amazing, isn’t he ?” you’re often caught gushing at the journalists, and oh you have so many reasons to be proud of your husband. Whether he just started an amazing charity, or just because he exists really.
Many people tried to fluster you, or anger you (drama always sold more) by making inappropriate comments about your husband, like how hot he was and such. How many people were after him. Without missing a bit, you always answered things like :
“He’s gorgeous in his new suit, right ?”
“Honestly can’t blame anyone who have the hots for him. I mean, have you seen him ?!”
“I know, his butt looks GREAT in those pants !”
“I had to go buy a new dress shirt for him, he flexed his arms and pecs earlier and tore it apart. Can you believe it ? He’s so strong. And fff, what a snack. A buffet, even.”
Sometimes, some people tried the other tactic, trying to denigrate Bruce in any way :
“What did you just say ?! My husband is the kindest, smartest, most incredible person on this planet. I will tolerate no slander.”
And you were ready to fight. You would NEVER stand for any bad talk about your husband. People could say whatever they wanted, but anyone pretending he was a bad person were just liars. You’d never, NEVER let them defame him !
************
Whenever you spotted a paparazzi, you reveled in showing your husband off. Pointing out his chiseled jaw line, or his biceps. Forming the word “thicc” on camera as you pointed your finger to his thighs.
It became a running joke in Gotham, and a source of endless memes. Nobody could deny that Bruce Wayne was an attractive man anyway…
If anyone asked you a passing question about him, while you were going somewhere or they caught you buying coffee, you would often ramble about how great Bruce was.
“He’s so smart. And humble. And kind. And brave. And bold. And compassionate. And so pretty. And interesting. And (insert an infinite influx of compliment).”
To be fair, people learned not to ask you much about your husband, because you could never shut up, and hype him up in front of everyone. And vice versa, “that’s my wife” Bruce would say, proud of you at any small occasions.
“Bruce Wayne and (Y/N) Wayne are our modern Gomèz and Morticia Addams” was an official instagram account. A very popular one. You always wondered who was the creator of it (I’ll let you guess).
************
“Bruce, Bruce listen.”
“Mm ?”
“I crave you more than pizza.”
He chuckles at that, and you-
“Ew. Please. Mom. Can’t you wait for us not to be around to say things like that ?”
“Right ?! I agree with Tim, please. This is our family night, you and father, stop being gross.”
You turn to your children, snickering. Oh how you loved to gross them out by openly complimenting you husband. And you knew he loved it too, and that he was most likely about to make a comment that would annoy your kids, while making you feel all warm and nice.
“I’ll never look at pizza the same way…”
Jason says dejectedly, looking at his piece of pizza. And you can’t help but burst out into laughter. Drama queens, all of them.
Aaah, it’s not because your children were there that you were going to not tell Bruce how much you loved him. How much he meant to you. How amazing he truly was.
At the League’s headquarters
“Your intelligence always astounds me, my heart.” You say without thinking, forgetting that well…You’re surrounded by all your superheroes friends. And they’re all looking at you and Bruce.
Superman, your great friend Clark, has a faint smile on his lips (what ? The man was a sucker for good romance ! Following yours and Bruce’s love story was quite the ride, and he was always there in the tough moments…he secretly was the person, along with Alfred, who rooted for you two the most).
Wonder Woman smirked (she thought it was funny when you managed to fluster Bruce).
Flash was going to catch flies with his mouth open like that, in utter shock.
Green Lantern seemed almost grossed out (his expression not unlike the one your children harbored when you two kissed in front of them).
Green Arrow’s eyes immediately went to Black Canary’s, their relationship more alike to yours than any of you will ever know…Y
ou made a mental list of all your friends in your head, looking at you two. Ff, the League was getting big now, with new arrivals pretty regularly. Maybe you should try to control your “simp surge” (that’s how Tim called those moments during which you gushed over your husband).
But then, how could you, when he truly was intelligent ? The best detective out there. Once, you heard one of them (you could honestly not remember who) imply that Bruce wasn’t an important member of the league because he didn’t have any powers. And oh Gods.
“Please.” you said, annoyed that anyone would think just because he doesn’t have any power he’s not the most important part of the team (no, you never exaggerated ! hehe)
“When A piece of rock is your nemesis, or when the color yellow is your weakness, you don’t really get to brag too much ok ? Plus, let’s think about how many times Bruce got you all out of bad situations, mm ? Who always has a plan B, all the way to Z here, mm ? Dare to say you wouldn’t panic if Bruce one day say : “I don’t know”, mmmmm ?”
To be fair, it was kind of true. Nobody could quite deny the fact that, if one day, the Batman himself ran out of ideas to “win”, it’d be quite frightening. Not that he was the only intelligent person around. Oh no, there was Barry too of course, and J’onn, and many others ! But over the years, everyone came to rely on his mastermind to find solutions to their biggest problems.
Ah yes. There wasn’t a moment in the League headquarters where you didn’t express your admiration for your husband (in relevant situations of course).
To friends
You had the same friends he did, for the most part. Except for your childhood friend, and his. You shared the same friend group.
To be fair, the League was in big part your friends. But it was different, when you were officially on League missions, and only just all together casually, outside of “work”.
You hyped Bruce up, but not in the same way you hyped Batman up.
************
Clark is the only one used to it.
Everyone else always gets taken aback, when you gush over Bruce and he sometimes let a smile slip up. Usually, he keeps his face cold and unfeeling (he has a reputation to uphold). But sometimes…
Only when he doesn’t have the cowl on, does they sometimes catch him smiling at you. Unable to stop himself. And that’s when they all realized that “The Batman” was before all else, just a man.
And an impressive one at that, as you constantly reminded them.
************
One day, you were sitting on the Kent farm’s porch, a cup of coffee in hand, waiting for your husband and Clark to come out (they were currently doing the dishes, and helping Martha out with some things, Martha was adamant that the men must help, and you two had to chill à préciser que les two c’est elle et Lois) when Lois joined you.
Lois had a true “journalist” reflex. As soon as she learned Batman’s real identity, she wanted to ask him so many questions. And when she met you ? Oh boy.
Like today. It was the first time you came over at Martha’s for a Sunday lunch. The first time of many. Clark and Lois didn’t have children yet, and Dick was with you since just a few months (he was currently helping to bake a pie…that boy LOVED to cook).
“Ok I have to ask. How is he, really ? With you ?”
“Mm?”
“Well, I knew Bruce before, but I always felt he wasn’t showing his true self to me. Like there were always a barrier between us two. Probably why we didn’t last long. So I was wondering…”
You don’t have to think much about it :
“He’s kind, nice, sweet, always pays attention to me and tries to make me confortable in every situation. He-”
Fifteen minutes. For fifteen minutes, you hyped your man up. Fifteen minutes of you gushing over him, and Lois couldn’t help but smile.
She was happy, that Bruce found the right one. And that you found him. You were clearly meant for each others.
That day, she also realized the same things your other friends will see over the years : “The Batman” was human. He loved like everyone else, he hurt, too. He wasn’t that heartless machine they thought he was, or that stupid and arrogant playboy. No. He-
He was just a man, trying to do his best.
Your constant admiration of him made them realize that. Gave him a humanity they thought wasn’t there. Made them realize, they never truly knew him before then.
And it made them a little jealous, too. Because it was clear your love for each others knew no bound, and you’d always be each others biggest fan.
With your kids
They don’t mind it, most of the time, when you compliment their dad.
Sometimes, it can get a little gross, like why does it always lead to kisses ?!
But sometimes, it’s really cute, and inspire them to find someone who loves them as much as you love Bruce (and vice versa).
Maybe that’s why none of them would ever settle for anyone toxic ? Because they had their parents example, and certain “couple goals”.
************
You and Damian constantly boast about Bruce (when he’s not there). Damian would never admit it openly like you did, but he thought his dad was amazing. And only with you, did he feel safe enough to truly speak his mind about the matter. “Did you know father could bench press 1000 pounds ??”, “I did ! And he always does that at the end of his training, the man is a machine, a beast.” Damian constantly bragged about his dad (and you, and his siblings) at school. And nobody could ever really tell him that THE Bruce Wayne wasn’t as cool as he sounded…because everyone knew he was (except maybe Bruce himself).
You and Dick LOVED to fluster Bruce. Exaggerating your admiration for him (which was already huge) was your jam. Dick was a great actor, he’d often take his most angelic face before saying how much he loved his dad. It was even worst when he became an adult, because he kept that angelic face and nobody could resist that expression. You and him could never get enough of seeing Bruce blush as you both complimented his every action.
Jason, before his death, never shied away from backing you up when you said Bruce was a great father. “My dad is the best !” He’d exclaim proudly, making sure journalists caught that on tape.
After his death, those words never really came out of his mouth ever again. Which made Bruce feel miserable. Until one day : someone dared speak ill of him. Jason lost his cool, and let’s say that this person will never dare again say something bad about Bruce Wayne. This was proof Jason still cared so much, still thought he was the best…And that only him, could criticize his father.
You and Tim used to have a secret “Batfam Fandom” website, that Bruce found out about years after its creation. You and little Tim had forums, and fan pages dedicated to the Bat (and by extension, to Bruce, albeit you were the only ones knowing the truth). When Bruce finally discovered that page, he was too touched to even admit he found out about it. You still didn’t know he knew…But he definitely went to check that site from time to time, when he didn’t feel good and needed a “pick me up”, knowing he’d found your account (NumberOneBatmanSimp) and your son’s (BatmanStan) gushing over how great he was.
Cass was THE daddy’s girl. Of course she’d always join in on you complimenting him. “You. Great.” she’d tell him whenever he felt badly about himself. She would never hesitate to scold him, too. “You taught me how to love myself. Love yourself, too. Or else…”, the threat in her words often meaning that if he didn’t, she would hug him up until he felt better. Just like you, she would never let anyone speak badly about her father, including himself.
Duke was already a fan of Bruce before he met him. And when he finally did, reality went beyond his expectations. Bruce was everything he imagined, and more (the more being : newsflash, he was also the Batman !). How could he not find him amazing and cool and all ?
Yes. Bruce often found himself stuck in a “hype sandwich”, where you and one of the kids (sometimes even more than one), would remind him of how great he truly was. And how much you loved him.
Hyping the kids up
"Have you met my oldest son, Dick ? No ? You have to, he’ll honestly make your life better by just existing.”
“Yes, Jason, my son, he’s fantastic isn’t he ? When he laughs, it brightens the entire room and he never did anything wrong, ever.”
“Have you ever met someone more intelligent than my Tim ? The answer is no, because nobody is. Objectively speaking, he’s the greatest.”
“Cassandra is beautiful, smart, amazing, flawless…I pity anyone who can’t see that.”
“Damian ? Another one of my son who never did anything wrong, ever. I’ll fight you on that. Damian is the sweetest little boy ever, he overcame so much, and constantly works on bettering himself. Not a lot of people will achieve even half of his will to become a better man. He will change the world, mark my world. And for the better.”
“Duke didn’t let his power change him, do you know how strong you have to be for that to happen ? How much of a good person you have to be, to not turn pretentious because you’re powerful ? Such a powerful kid, in every sense of the term”.
Being your child meant never feeling worthless. Never feeling less than. Of course, you weren’t always perfect and you lost your cool with them more than once…But we established nobody was perfect.
Well. Except your children.
They were perfect in your eyes. Their “flaws” only made them better, stronger. They always impressed you so much by how tough they truly were. They went through so much, yet always pulled through. How impressive was that ?
You never missed an occasion to tell them how amazing they were.
Ok, hope you liked it ! I wrote it “fast” in a burst of inspiration, but I hope it’s suitable for y’all :) comments and reblogs = always loved, welcomed, and motivating ^^.
Anyway. I wanted to write this because like, I think an aspect of Bruce that is often overlooked is : “why did he decide to become the Batman, and shut away his feelings a lot of times ?” ya know ? Anyway, here’s my way of seeing things. I always felt like Bruce hates himself so much, which is why his facade is so polished…We know that deep down, he actually feels everything to the max (he even says so himself TT.TT). Hypersensitive Bruce trying to protect himself…My jam <3.
Anyway.At least now it’s clear I’m a huge Bruce Wayne simphaha.
Synopsis : Bruce arrives just in time to save you from a situation that is a little too close from home for him…
That scene, in The Batman, where he looks at the mayor’s son and just stares for a bit for obvious reason…It stuck with me. And I got the idea of writing this, Bruce making sure what happened to him never happens again. Also, maybe I wanted to write Battinson interacting with a toddler…Hope you’ll like it. Comments and other reblogs always super welcomed and appreciated <3 :
In retrospect, you think it might be fate, who brought you together that night.
What were the chances that he’d be there, at that exact moment ?
He often said it himself, he couldn’t be everywhere. And yet…
He found you that night. Both of you.
How could you not believe in some kind of destiny, after all these years and what you went through ?
Yes. It’s been years since that night, and it’s an evidence to you.
It’s fate, that took Bruce’s steps towards you. Fate that guided him, that made it so he would make it just in time to save you and your son…
Ah. It’s funny, now. “Your son”. His, too. Who would’ve thought, all those years ago, that your “little buddy” would become the most amazing older brother that ever existed ? Certainly not you. You were so sure, at that time, that you would only ever have one child.
And look at you now. Surrounded by family on that clear evening, eating dinner all together. All because once upon a time, on a terrible night, your path crossed the Batman’s…
Oh. How very different it would’ve been, if fate had decided to never do its little tricks.
************
Ten years ago
There’s some days, you just have no idea how you made it this far.
Some days, you’re not sure you can keep going.
Some days you feel like it’d be oh too easy to just let it all go.
But you can’t give up. If you were alone, maybe. But you’re not. You have your little buddy to take care of. And you could never forgive yourself if you let him down. You didn’t care what happened to you, as long as he was fine.
Nonetheless, it was tough, to be a single mother in Gotham. To be honest, it was tough to be a single mother everywhere in the world. But Gotham ? Gotham had its way of making everything worst.
You could live with the constant judgement everyone was throwing your way. People judging you without knowing your story wasn’t anything new. But you had to admit, sometimes, it got old.
It’s almost funny, how a life can take a radical turn in but a few moment…
One day, you’re painting the nursery of your future child, happy, in love, ready to welcome this little life in the world.
The next, someone calls you to say : “There’s been an accident”, and all your dreams chatter.
Your fiancé was working for a building company, and lately had been on a worksite at “The Ice Lounge”. You didn’t like the idea of him working there. Everyone knew what this place really was full of…But the money was good. And with a baby on the way ? Yeah, of course he’d take the job.
“Work accident” they said, giving you a modest compensation thanks to the “Renewal plan” (was this really what the money was supposed to be used on ?). And just like that, in a few seconds, your fiancé was forever gone. It took you a while to even process what was being said to you through the phone.
Couldn’t someone at least come tell you the news in person ?
Apparently not.
You were given no other infos. You did receive a condolences card from the owner of the place, a certain “Oswald Cobblepot”. Although you’re not really sure he even signed it. You heard the rumors about the man…
You didn’t believe one bit he died because of a “work accident”, but in Gotham ? Nobody cared about the truth. Police were in those people’s pocket, as if they were going to search for foul play.
At the end of the day, the result was the same. If anyone was guilty of his death, they wouldn’t have gone behind bars anyway. Everyone knew how the mafia worked, around Gotham. It was a well known “secret”, for those living in those streets. They would’ve found a scapegoat, and you knew your fiancé would’ve hated that. You would too, an innocent person in prison…No.
It didn’t mean that it was easy to accept. But living in Gotham meant you had to live with certain things. And to be honest, once you ended up all alone with a baby on the way, you had to take your responsibilities quickly.
You unfortunately didn’t have time to chase after the truth. But you would, one day, you would.
For now, you had to work two jobs to stay afloat, and that’s how you ended up here. Late at night. Going home with your baby in your arms.
Well. Baby. He wasn’t really a baby anymore, he would turn three in just a few months. Damn. Three years old already ? Wow. How time flies. Especially when your days are a succession of long working hours and trying to survive.
But you didn’t have a choice. As a single mother, you were near the bottom of the food chain in Gotham, and you had to fight. For him.
Because he deserved better. He deserved the world. You would do anything to give him a decent childhood. Unfortunately, it meant that sometimes, you had to take tough decisions.
Like tonight.
************
You knew bringing your two year old son to work that night, was a bad idea. But what could you do ? You couldn’t miss work, you needed the money. And you were certainly not going to leave your son alone because no one was available.
So you brought him with you.
He fell asleep in the back room, in a little makeshift bed your coworkers made for him…They absolutely adored your boy. And you understood them. Maybe it’s because he felt how hard you had it, but (Son’s name) had always been a calm child. He didn’t cry often, he quickly slept through nights…A blessing, really, given how hectic your life was.
Your night job was in a bar. Your shift ran from 7pm to 3 am. Fortunately, the bar you were working in was a “nice one”. One of those “local street” bar with only people from the neighborhood. Hell, you even served coffee…Ah, but there were many insomniacs, down in Gotham City (you were sure it was fate too, which, years later, made it so that this place you used to work at became your son Tim’s favorite place to get late night coffees during his vigilante shifts).
It was late. It was raining. And you were finally going home, with your little sleeping buddy in your arms. The weather was good, when you left for work, so you did not have an umbrella. You were pretty much soaked. Which didn’t matter, as long as your baby was dry and warm, and safe. Wrapped in your coat against your chest, only his little face was peeking out. He was fast asleep, and the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.
And you’ve never felt so scared of going home late at night than now.
When you were alone, it was ok. You knew Gotham. You knew the streets to take to get home quick, and to avoid trouble. Sure, you were mugged a few times, but it was never ever really bad because honestly, you didn’t have much to give. And most thugs being out that late were just that, street thugs who didn’t really look for huge trouble.
But right now, with your son in your arms ? You had a bad feeling.
A feeling creeping from your toes to your head. As if you were followed. As if something was lurking out there.
And…you were right. As you turned down a back alley where there usually were nobody, someone got in front of you. By instinct, you took a step back.
Damn. Now, he was going to know you were afraid.
************
The man came out of nowhere.
And instantly, all your sense were on high alert.
A group of thugs was less dangerous than a man lone, in Gotham.
Because someone deciding to attack on his own ? It was someone who didn’t have much to loose. Someone who wouldn’t be too happy with the barely twenty bucks in your wallet…
He stood right in your way, blocking it.
“Your wallet, lady. And that ring, too.”
No. Not the ring. It was the only thing you had left of your fiancé…And you did such a good job hiding it too. You had taken it off of your fingers a while ago, putting it around your neck keeping it safe against your heart.
But it seemed as if your son, as he fell asleep, took hold of it and was holding onto the necklace…
You did not want to give that man your ring. But with your baby in your arm, you weren’t about to risk it. The story of one of the most famous and powerful couple in town came back to your head, in that moment…If Thomas and Martha Wayne could get shot in the streets, just like that, then a nobody like you definitely could too.
“Ok. Just give me a second, ok ?”
This wasn’t good. The man looked nervous, looking all around. You knew what he was looking for. Or rather, who. His looks up and towards the darkest areas of the streets told you everything. And oh man, if only The Batman was around right now…
“Buddy, hey, you have to wake up.”
You didn’t want him to see this. You didn’t want him to live this. What, not even three years old and already his first time getting mugged ? This wasn’t right.
This wasn’t the life you wanted for him. He should’ve never been there. If only you had enough money to pay for a sitter…
He wakes up, and as usual, he’s an adorable little bundle right after sleep. He rarely cried, when you woke him up for whatever reason. Deep down, you think it’s because he’s already aware of the struggles you’re going through. You know it’s ridiculous, he’s just two. Yet it feels so many times he makes your life better…
“Mama.”
“Yes, yes don’t worry buddy. I’ll put you on the ground for a second, ok ?”
He nods and yawns sleepily. He didn’t notice the man in front of you, yet. Everything is alright. Everything is good. You’re handling this. You put him on the ground gently, as you need both your hands to reach for your wallet, which is hidden in an inner pocket of your jacket (can’t be too safe in Gotham).
He’s still wrapped in your coat, coat which drags on the floor as your son’s legs are just too short…
“Mama.”
Worry in his voice. Of course, he would notice the scary man in front of him. He hid behind your leg, holding your pant tightly, your coat slips off of him, and by instinct you try to put it back on him when-
“HURRY UP LADY !”
A gun. Was it there since the start ? You don’t know, but it’s there now. In his hand. Pointed at you.
This was bad. The man was too nervous, he could snap any seconds. You knew this, you’ve lived in those streets long enough to recognize desperate people. You raise your hands, and say :
“Ok here, here just take everything.”
You quickly take your wallet, and your ring from around your neck, and hand it to him.
“Empty your pocket, you must have more !”
“Sir, I’m sorry but I don’t, I-”
“DON’T LIE TO ME BITCH ! WHAT YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW YOU’RE HIDING SOMETHING ?”
He grabs you by the shirt, you hear your son scream, you don’t mean to but…you fight back. It’s a visceral reaction. You’re so scared for your son, as that gun faces downward towards him, that you fight back. You grab his arm and-
BANG.
That was a shot, right ? You looked down at your son, thanks god, he wasn’t touched. But he was looking at you with wide eyes. And you felt like you were slowly falling downward.
Oh. Oh you felt, a little light headed.
“Mama ?”
Why couldn’t you feel his hands anymore ? And why everything was so wet ? It takes you a few seconds to realize you fell on the floor.
“MAMA !!”
No. No. You can’t speak. You wish you could scream. You can’t leave him all alone against that man, you can’t let him get hurt. You try to move, but you can’t. Your can hear (Son’s name) crying now, and the man panicking and then-
SWOOSH.
Swoosh ? That was a weird sound.
You turn your head, and- oh. That’s him.
At least, your son will be safe. And that’s all that matters.
Honestly. What were the odds of him being around here, right now ? It’s almost as if fate brought him there, to save you. You feel your son’s little hands holding your jeans tight, crying, and you really want to stand up, take him in your arms and run, but your strengths are leaving you…
************
FUCK !! Will he ever be on time ?? First his parents, then Alfred, and now-
He did not know you. But he knew this situation all too well. This was probably the most triggered he’ve ever been.
Never again. He promised himself. Never again.
Your son’s cry almost gives him a panic attack. He almost freezes on the spot, seeing the scene unfolds in front of him. In just a few seconds everything goes to Hell, there’s a shot…
It wakes him up. It wakes Bruce up.
He has to act. This is why he became the Batman. This is why he became the Batman ! He jumps from the balcony he was standing on, and drops on the man heavily.
He sees you fall, and the little child (he’s not sure if it’s a boy or a girl, wrapped in that coat like that) shaking you.
And he sees red.
He barely stops himself before he kills that man with his violent punches. Never before has he felt so angry, and close to killing. It’s just-
He’ve seen all this before.
He had been that little boy, on his knees, shaking his parents for them to wake up.
“ ’ake up mama ! ‘Ake up !”
The man is taken care of quickly. His gun is utterly destroyed by Bruce, who makes sure it will never be able to shoot another bullet. And then he runs to you. Your eyes flutter, but do not open. It seems like you feel his presence because you whisper :
“My son…”
You were hurt. Badly. Yet your first thoughts were for your son.
A painful reminder to Bruce. He knew his parents’ last thoughts were for him, for his safety. He didn’t have a child, and to be honest, didn’t think he would ever have children (oh the irony) with the kind of life he was living. Yet he felt what you were feeling.
He remembered his mom’s terrified eyes as she took her last breath. His dad trying to say “Bruce” and “Martha”. The fact they were in this alley because of him…
It’s a love so deep you can’t seem to fully understand it up until you lose it.
And right now, Bruce wasn’t ready to let another child live through this. Especially not as young as that little one seemed to be.
The boy couldn’t stop crying, clinging to his mom and screaming in distress. The kind of cry where you can’t even breathe properly. He coughed, and started to hyperventilate, unable to process all those strong emotions…
He couldn’t be more than three years old. No kid should ever witness something like that.
Bruce was still holding your hand. Tightly. But he had to act. Fast.
Because right now, he knew your life was on the line. He could still feel your heartbeat. He would save you. He would ! Never again will he let a child witness their parents be murdered in front of him. At least, not in Gotham.
************
He had to take you out of this alley. Without thinking much about it, he took you in his arms…And your son hit him.
“Leave mama !”
Bruce realized that he probably didn’t even see him fight the man who shot his mom, and, ah, what a brave little boy. He was soaked to the bones, shivering in the cold night, and his mom just got hurt, and yet here he was, kicking probably the scariest man he ever saw.
There were very few instances, in which Bruce regretted he chose such an intimidating costume. But right now, faced with that little boy who was head bent on protecting his mother, he wished he chose something a little more colorful. He noticed the Spider-Man backpack the little one had…
“I’m going to help your mama, ok ? Help ?”
Your son was young, but not stupid. He didn’t seem to believe Bruce at first, which was understandable. But then Bruce took a lollipop from his utility belt (even now, years later, he still had candies in said utility belt…not many people knew Bruce had a sweet tooth, and then of course with the kids, it became a habit, oh how many times they emptied his “candy pocket” in one evening), and gave it to him.
Your kid was like most kids. If someone gave them candies ? It meant they were nice…He was still too young to understand this was actually something to be weary of. Fortunately, in this instance, it wasn’t.
Bruce took you in his arm, and got your son to jump on his back.
“Hold on.”
“Mm.” the little one nodded, and Bruce took off running. The Batmobile wasn’t far, and he had to hurry.
************
The people at the hospital weren’t shocked to have someone come in with a gunshot wound. To see the Batman though, with a kid holding onto his back ? That was new.
The police was called, and you were sent to the an emergency surgery. Your son whined a little, when you were taken away, calling you. But somehow, Bruce managed to calm him down.
Your son wasn’t “wild”. He trusted people easily. Too easily, in your opinion. You often worried about it. But right now ? It was a blessing, as he seemed to understand that the doctors where going to take care of his “mama”, and just sat there in silence, on The Batman’s lap.
That was quite an odd image.
************
The sun was rising, and Bruce wasn’t sure what to do.
He couldn’t leave him here, all alone. And the police still hadn’t shown up. And so he just sat there, in his Batman costume, in the hospital, with everyone staring at him.
He heard them whisper, and none of them even hid the fact they were talking about him and the child. It was uncomfortable. He hated when people looked at him. Even under the protection of his costume.
Ever since his parents passed away, he had a hard time standing people’s gaze on him. When they died, everyone kept looking at him. They whispered wherever he went. And they stared, stared and stared again.
He hated, when people looked at him like that.
Finally, Jim Gordon showed up, apologizing. Apparently, it been quite a night out there. Bruce knew. Before saving you, he already took care of quite a lot of affairs.
He didn’t even realized, but he didn’t feel any guilt about missing a few hours of the night patrolling. His entire mind was focused on that little boy in his lap, and his mother still in surgery.
His entire mind was plagued by a question : “what if you didn’t make it ?”. He didn’t think he could handle it. So, what if he skipped three hours of patrol ? This was important.
He told what happened to Gordon, and the detective nodded saying they found the man responsible for the shooting. He was also in this hospital, The Batman did not held his punches…
Jim then turned to the little boy in his arms. Your son didn’t fall back asleep (maybe it was the sugar in the candies Bruce kept giving him ?), and was looking at Gordon suspiciously.
He screamed his lung out when the detective tried to take him from Bruce’s arms, writhing and kicking and crying and yelling “no no no”, clinging to Bruce as if his life depended on it, and the Batman didn’t have the heart to let the little one go. He was reminisced of himself, years ago, refusing to let go of Alfred for hours on end after he came back from the police station and the butler came to fetch him…How could he let go ?
He couldn’t. And so he stayed, and held onto that young child who wasn’t an orphan yet, but could very well be at any instant, if you didn’t make it…
************
His clothes were soaked, poor little thing. And he was shaking a little bit. Naturally, Bruce just wrapped him in his cape. Glad he put some “thermopads” in them (thanks to Alfred really, who was starting to be tired of treating his cold when he spend nights out and it was cold. He just had to wrap himself in his cape and…done).
Gordon was looking at the two of them, probably wondering how the Hell did the Batman got himself in that situation. They had lived a lot of things together, over the past two years, but never this.
“What’s your name ?” the detective asked, and the boy just hid in Batman’s cape, peeking out of it sometimes to see if he was still looking at him, and then hiding again.
“You’re scaring him.” Bruce says.
The irony of the matter didn’t escape any of them. What, Jim Gordon, probably one of the only honest policeman in Gotham, scared that little boy, and a man wearing a bat costume and being purposefully intimidating didn’t ?
There was comedy, in this.
Bruce pulled his cape a little, looked at the boy and asked :
“What’s your name?”
The little boy looked at him for a few seconds, and Bruce wondered if he understood. How old was that kid ? Two or three ? Didn’t children speak already at that time ? Man he wished he could call Alfred right now.
Finally, your son, after pondering whether that weird man wearing a bat costume was trustworthy (because yes; he did understand the question), said :
“(Son’s name)"
Bruce’s first thought was that that name fit him. And his second thought was that his voice was adorable. When was the last time he thought this kind of thing ? He realized, never. Interaction with kids weren’t really his forte. They either quivered in fear, or asked too many question.
But here he was.
That little kid, just looking at him curiously, calm and…collected ? At least for a child that young, who was in a stranger’s arm, and who’s mom was nowhere to be seen. Bruce wondered if that little one understood what was going on…
No. No your son wasn’t really sure of what was happening. But there was one thing he knew, and that Bruce couldn’t know.
Bruce couldn’t know what was going on in that little head of his. Your son was only two, almost three. But he understood that Bruce did a good thing for him and you. He understood that this man saved his mama. Kids in Gotham grew up faster than anywhere else, because of the violence they always witnessed. So someone fighting "the bad guys” ? Instant trust.
“Your name ?”
He asked, and Bruce answered :
“V-Batman.”
Your son smiled widely, making everyone’s heart melt, and repeated :
“Man-Man !”
“No no. Bat-man.”
Unable to hear where he pronounced it wrong, the boy repeated :
“…Man-Man !”
“Bat, repeat after me. Baaat.”
“Baaat.”
“Man.”
“Man !”
“Batman.”
“Man-Man !”
Bruce heard himself chuckle. Wh-What ? When was the last time he laughed ?
He couldn’t even remember.
************
Time went by so slowly. And there was still no news about your condition.
Bruce was still waiting, still in his Batman costume. (Son’s name) was finally fast asleep, clutching one of his finger tight. It was…adorable. Bruce couldn’t describe the feeling he felt, holding this child, wrapped in his cape, holding his finger.
It was an odd feeling.
Finally, news arrived. Good news.
You were in an artificial coma right now, but they said you were out of danger. You just needed a lot of rest, and to stay in the hospital for a while.
The “problem” of your son came quickly. The hospital said that the little boy would be able to stay with you, but only in a few days, once you’d leave intensive care. Someone to take care of him had to be found.
“What is going to happen to him ?”
He asked to Jim Gordon, as your son was still asleep in his arms.
“Well, social services will probably-”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no ?”
“He’s going to be scared. I know how social services work, they tried to take me away from-”
Wow. Two years of making sure Bruce Wayne couldn’t be assimilated to Batman, and he almost said : “they tried to take me away from Alfred once”. Wow. He knew his emotions were in shambles. This case really was too close from home.
If Jim Gordon noticed anything, he didn’t say it. He just continued :
“It’s our only option. Unless someone is willing to take him in. I would gladly do so, but it’d unfortunately be a conflict of interest as I’m assigned to his case. And there’s procedures, the person would have to prove they’re fit to take care of him.”
“Anyone could take better care of him than social services…”
“Maybe, but it’s the only option we have right now. You’re going to have to leave him.”
Leave him ? No…
Bruce didn’t dare to even speak to the mayor’s son when he had the occasion to. So now…It felt personal.
This all thing.
It felt like he had to act.
Batman left, leaving the sleeping boy in the care of Jim Gordon. But Bruce Wayne ?
************
Alfred was still in the hospital, and it ended up being a blessing. Another thing that makes you strongly believe all of that happened for a reason, that it was destiny that brought you all together.
Because Alfred still being bedridden in that same hospital Bruce took you to ? It meant that Bruce Wayne had a reason to be there.
And that’s how he made an appearance as his “real” self, and oh, what a coincidence, encountered the social workers who were currently taking care of (son’s name).
The poor little fella seemed greatly distressed. The only person he gave his trust to, the Batman, left while he was sleeping, and he woke up surrounded by people who asked him too many questions.
The social workers didn’t ask Bruce many questions. They knew who he was. They were surprisingly easy to convince (the truth was, they wanted to end this as quickly as possible, and move on, and honesty, who would blame them to give responsibilities to a literal billionaire ? He could always just hire people to take care of him).
In just a few minutes, (son’s name) was in Bruce Wayne’s custody for the next few days. Oddly enough, the little boy didn’t fuss when Bruce took him in his arms, and Bruce had a suspicion that the kid recognized him.
But it wasn’t possible, right ? He was only two, how could he recognize him when he was masked, changed his voice etc ?
Your son didn’t recognize him. But he felt oddly at ease, in his arms. Reminded of another person’s arm, the man who saved you…So he went with it. He’ve always been a sweet and calm child.
************
“Alfred.”
“Yes my boy ?”
“Where are um-…Where are my kid’s clothes ?”
“Your what now ?”
“You know, the clothes I used to wear as a kid. I know you didn’t throw them away. Where did you put them ?”
There was a silence. Before Alfred finally said :
“Why on Earth would you need children’s clothes ?”
There was worries in the butler’s voice, and for reasons. What was his young master’s latest fad now ??
“There’s this boy. Um. His mother. She got shot.”
Oh. Oooh. Oooooh. Wait, what ?
“A…boy ?”
“Yes. I said I would take care of him for a few days.”
Another silence. If Alfred wasn’t still badly injured, he would’ve stand up and shake his master.
“I’m sorry, are you out of your mind ?? You ? With a child ? All alone ??”
As far as he could remember, Bruce hadn’t seen Alfred freak out as much as right now.
“I couldn’t leave him Alfred. I couldn’t.”
Pinching his nose (a gesture that Bruce will mimic a lot in the future, whenever his children would do something that genuinely would give him headaches), Alfred sighed and said :
“Where is he ?”
“Waiting with the nurses.”
“Well bring him in.”
Bruce went to fetch (son’s name). As if it was the most natural thing in the world, the little boy climbed on Alfred’s bed (with a little help from Bruce) and sat there, calmly.
He exchanged a look with Alfred, and something in the butler’s face made him smile and say :
“Hewwoooo.”
“Well hello there young man.”
“You have booboo ?”
“Yes. Yes I do.”
“Mama do too.”
“Your mama is hurt ?”
The boy nods, and then say : “But ish okay.”
“It is ?”
He nods again, and adds : “Man-Man save her.”
Alfred turns to Bruce, who shrugs and aaah. Of course. “Man-Man”. Everything made sense, now. Why did his master want to take care of this child.
Of course.
************
The least that we can say, is that things definitely got out of hand a lot of time. Bruce had never taken care of a child (crazy that people thought, just because he was extremely rich, he was fit to take care of him). He called Alfred one too many time.
The poor butler, stuck in his hospital bed, was literally pulling his hair because of the worry (an explanation to his premature baldness ?).
“What do you mean you gave him ice cream for dinner ?? That is not appropriate Master Bruce !”
“He’s two years old, of course he has to go to bed before midnight !”
“*sighs* Can you repeat please ? You let him do what with our highly priced and precious collection of Fabergé eggs ?”
“Master Bruce, please, by real food and stop giving him candy. This is why he doesn’t want to take a nap, he’s high on sugar.”
“He does need to wear pants, yes.”
“Master Bruce, with all due respect, that “wallpaper” was a five hundred years old tapisserie from England, and yes I’m a little mad you let him paint on it. It was a relic from the Queen herself that she gifted to your grandfather !”
“NO A CHILD DOES NOT NEED A MILLION DOLLAR WHAT WOULD HE DO WITH IT ANYWAY ??”
Bruce had people babysit him at night, pretending he had “things to do” and honestly ? Nobody questioned it. Everyone knew Bruce Wayne was a little odd. He even heard one of the caretaker whispering something about him being the master of a “sex dungeon”…Good, people were miles away from suspecting he was the Batman.
Having that many people home though made him uncomfortable. It was a painful reminder of when his house was full of help, during his parents’ time, and how so many of them tried to sell pictures of a crying Bruce right after their death…Alfred fired all of them.
But he couldn’t leave (son’s name) alone at night. However, one evening, as it was time for (son’s name) to go to bed, Bruce heard him whimper. It wasn’t a full on cry, just a sob, barely noticeable.
“Mama…”
He was calling for you. And Bruce didn’t have the heart to leave him alone. For the first time in two years, he took a night off. The Batsignal wasn’t shining anyway. And he stayed with that lost little boy, who was calling for his mom and who reminded him of himself…He was such a brave child.
Bruce never thought he would one day console a crying kid. Hold him in his arm until he was asleep. Stay to make sure he was ok. He felt…Was this how Alfred feel when he stayed entire nights in Bruce’s room to wake him up if he had a nightmare ?
*************
(Son’s name) only stayed with Bruce for three days, but it meant something for him. Never before had an experience change him so much…Well, if you don’t talk about his parents dying right in front of his eyes of course (yes, I think I’m funny).
The boy was curious, eager to learn, sweet, a little stubborn, and he did have one massive tantrum (over the silliest of things : he really didn’t want to wear pants and only hang out in his PJ) but just like any kid, really ?
Bruce was really impressed by how your son handled this entire situation. Being thrown into a stranger’s house, surrounded by strange things…Of course, being so young, your son didn’t always realize what was going on. And thanks god children don’t really have any notion of time, because he always would be satisfy with “tomorrow” as an answer to him asking “when will I see mama ?”.
************
You woke up in a panic. But were quickly reassured that your son was alright, and taken care of. By instinct, you went for the ring around your neck, forgetting that you had given it to the ma- No. It was there.
Who put it back around your neck ? The Batman ?
It didn’t sound like something he’d do, right ? Yet…The ring was back around your neck. And someone put it there. Nobody else but the Batman and your son were in the alley that night. So…
You had to remember to thank that Batman one day, if you ever saw him again.
************
Four days later, you were able to receive visitations. And of course, the first person was your son. And…Bruce Wayne ??
Nobody even told you HE was the one taking care of your child. What the fuck. This was..unexpected. How did that even happen ?? You would only truly understand that years later, when you’ll find out he’s The Batman. For now, it was really strange, and nobody seemed to really know how and why Bruce Wayne was here.
To be fair, everyone assumed it was all a coincidence. That Bruce came to see Alfred, and heard the story of that little boy, that reminded him of his own story and…it made sense for everyone. And it was partly the truth. Yes; the entire thing was close from home for him.
And it did make sense he would decide to help a boy going through the same kind of experience he did (except, thanks the gods, you survived).
First thing first, you hugged your boy. Tightly. And then… :
“What the hell are you wearing ?” you said, as you looked him up and down. Was that a..SUIT ?!
“Um, sorry. I didn’t have much clothes left from where I was a child. Only…tuxedos and polos, apparently.”
You were feeling much better now, after a few days of rest. Turned out, the shot you received went right through you, and didn’t touch any important organs. How lucky.
And here your son was. With Bruce Wayne. Wearing a “tuxedo for children”. This was all too much. Too strange. You burst out in laughter, unable to stop yourself even though each laugh hurt.
Your son quickly followed, with his cute little laugh. Him too, was unable to stop.
And before he realized it, Bruce too, was laughing. Like he hadn’t in years. The nurses even had to come in and tell you to keep it down because all three of you couldn’t stop laughing…which only enhanced your laughter.
It took you ages to finally stop.
************
Fate. Fate reunited the three of you together. You were sure of it. How else could you explain what happened next ?
************
After Bruce left the hospital, saying his “good byes” to (son’s name) (who cried, and it was heart wrenching), Bruce felt oddly empty. Like he was making a mistake, leaving you two behind without another word. It’s as if destiny was telling him to go back. To ask for your number. To come back later to ask for news. But to not just turn the page on this chapter.
He should move on. He saved you. Made sure your son still had his mom. His mission was over, his goal to never let happen what happened to him again was over. Yet he felt like he had to go see you again. Like if he didn’t, he would forever regret it…
Why couldn’t he take you out of his mind ? And (son’s name) ? Why ?
And you ? Why couldn’t you stop thinking about this Bruce Wayne guy ? You didn’t even know him, yet it felt like you did. Things clicked between you, you felt it. And even better, things clicked between him and your son. Clearly, those two were meant to get along.
************
It took a long time, before you and Bruce started to date.
You still had some healing to do. Both physical and mental. And he still had a lot of issues to resolve. Ah, that could be a story in its own, really, how you came to finally be together (A/N : yes you guessed it, I’mma write it…this one was just getting too long to put it here haha).
Funny enough, it’s your son, who opened his heart to Bruce first. You don’t know what happened between the two, but obviously, the few days they spend together had straighten a bond that will never break.
Bruce already felt, deep in his heart, that (Son’s name) changed him, that now, nothing could ever be the same. And he kept coming to check in on you, and on (son’s name).
As Batman, he reopened the case of your fiancé’s death, finding out the truth (spoiler alert : it was not an accident). Working with Jim Gordon, he discovered that many people who worked on the “Below 44″, such as your fiancé, mysteriously died of “work accident” during the years of its building, and they uncovered a large conspiracy. But more importantly, they gave justice to your fiancé, at long last. And by doing that, finally gave you closure.
Closure that allowed you to truly move forward.
Forward…To him. With him.
************
The rest was history.
Bruce wooed you (and it was the most awkward thing you’ve ever seen, you couldn’t believe that later on, before your relationship would go public, he had the guts to take a “playboy” persona given how bad at flirting he truly was).
It took some times, but he managed to finally have what he truly wanted, for the first time in years. You. And by extension, your son.
His son.
************
It’s crazy, to think about. Years passed, but the feelings were still as strong. You loved that man. You loved your children, of course.
Ah. Children.
(Son’s name), of course. Who grew up to be such a good man, and oh how different his life would’ve been if Bruce hadn’t been there that night ? The man he quickly started to call “dad” definitely saved him too, that fateful evening. Your early years of dating, when he was still a toddler, were quite something.
Dick came in quickly after Bruce and you officially got together. Barely a few years older than (Son’s name), he fit right in. He had always wanted to be a big brother, and (Son’s name) ? All he knew was that now, he had a partner in crime. And that was great. They bond was instantly strong.
Then Jason followed. Lost little street kid who reminded you of yourself at his age. So eager to please, and to have a family. He would never admit it, but he still loved it when you and (son’s name) especially treated him like the baby of the family, even if he technically wasn’t.
Tim. Too smart for his own good. Made (Son’s name) loudly say : “What the fuck ? Alfreeeeed !”. You all instantly felt very protective over that little boy who was definitely way too clever. And what a surprise to him, to finally be at the center of everyone’s attention. To find his place in a family…
Cassandra. Your only daughter. Adored by her brothers, by her dad, and of course, by you. Suffered so much, and yet the kindest young woman you’ve ever met.
Damian. What a shock, when he came in your life and you all learned of his existence. He was conceived before you met Bruce, and raised by the League for ten years…It was difficult, at first. But none of you would give up on him. Never. Ah, the change in his behavior could be a story of its own (wink wink).
And finally, recently, Duke joined your family. It was now time to make sure him too, would feel at home.
Yes. One can wonder what would’ve happened if Bruce didn’t came across your path, and saved you.
Well I hope you liked this ! I think I might write other fics there and there about how Bruce wooed reader specifically, and just use more of that little toddler in other stories about this alternative Batfamily (AU from my own timeline at least). Comments and reblogs are always welcomed of course :) And motivating and all, ya know the drill. Thank you <3.
Synopsis : Tonight is the night. Tonight, you’re finally too tired to continue, it’s enough. Your decision is made. This is the end. Finally. Except, your path crosses The Batman’s, and he’s not about to give up on you. He won’t ever give up again. Can he really save you, though ?
TW : Suicidal thoughts. Spoilers for the movie (about Bruce’s character development, but no major plot points or events).
************
Bruce, atop one of his favorite building (Old Wayne Tower had always fascinated him, even as a child), was perusing Gotham city.
His city.
And, he realized, he did not feel the usual rage inside him, that overwhelmed him whenever he looked at those streets.
Those streets which took his parents away from him.
How novel, to not feel this resentment.
To look at what he once only saw as grim, and a way to avenge his parents mindless murder, in a new light.
To look at those streets…
Those streets which took too many parents away from their children. Too many children from their parents. Too many brothers, sisters, lovers, friends…
Yet. Yet here he was. Looking down there, with a new sense of purpose. Without this need for vengeance. This pure hatred and grief turned into violence, that was all too familiar…was gone.
It was both odd and amazing. It was both exhilarating and a little scary. Because, being “Vengeance” was easy. He could just pounce on villains, and use his brain to foil their plans. Destroy. Hurt. Ravage. Easy.
But being a sigil of hope ? It colored everything in a new way. It meant he had to be more careful, to be the one who will give Gotham City’s inhabitants a new ray of sunshine. Difficult, when you were a night vigilante.
Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. To think he realized, after two years “on the job”, what he really stood for, was still a little strange.
Yet it happened. Finally, some might say (some being mainly a certain Alfred Pennyworth). And although the pain inside his heart would never truly go away entirely, it wasn’t a source of vengeance anymore, but of hope. And love.
Because in the end, what drove him to become the Batman ? Was it the need to avenge, or the love for his parents which turned into pure hatred for crime ? A love so strong that once it was torn apart by their death, it was also distorted into something dark and unbearable.
Yes. It was love which drove his every decisions. Love for his mother and father, for Alfred, for his city and its inhabitants. (And maybe a little love for punching those who deserved in in the face, without fear of repercussion).
Another chuckle. What would the Bruce from two years ago think ? And the one from over a decade ago ? Ah, but those Bruces were ones that were still stuck in the “anger” phase of grief. And the Bruce from now ?
Acceptance.
Acceptance to be more than his pain. Acceptance to be a beacon of hope. To be more than that kid who witnessed his parents’ murder. Acceptance to be truly and fully, The Batman, the one that city deserved and needed.
The pain of his loss would never truly go away, but now…Now there was a silver lining amongst the clouds.
And he felt -no- he knew there was a future, after all. One not constantly dimmed by an endless amount of hurt.
Maybe it was fate, that just as he truly processed all of that, as he realized there was always hope even amongst endless nights, that he met you.
Someone who looked utterly lost, and all alone in the world.
Someone who had the same inkling of pain and despair in their eyes, the one Bruce could recognize anywhere because he saw it every day for the past fifteen years every time he looked at himself in the mirror.
Someone standing way too close from that building’s edge…
************
Climbing on the little wall “securing” the rooftop was easier than you thought.
What if it was too high ? What if you couldn’t lift yourself up ?
You told yourself that if it was the case, then it was a sign that you shouldn’t do it. That you shouldn’t jump. It was always like that right ? If everything wasn’t perfectly aligned, then you wouldn’t do it.
This wasn’t the first time your suicidal thoughts overtook your entire being.
The first time it felt like nothing mattered anymore, not even you. The first time you felt like a burden pulling everyone down with you, and honestly, wouldn’t they be better without you ?
This wasn’t the first time that you felt dead inside, like you’re just a ghost living in a body you don’t recognize. When look in the mirror, you see a stranger. A pale, tired, miserable stranger that kind of looks like you.
This wasn’t the first time.
What once made you happy is now tedious, and what once made you just a little bummed out makes you want to die.
You scrolled through your phone contacts that night, as this moment of deepest need started to rise. But you were sure that there wasn’t a single person who would help you without resenting you. Have you been lying to yourself all along about how much you matter ? Yes. Yes you have, haven’t you ?
Everything was so dark and hopeless. And you get that all too familiar tunnel vision surrounded by pain and the only way out is to end it all. The numbness is so deep and excruciating it overwhelms and drains everything out of you. Words can’t even describe how lonely and terrifying this is.
You’re tired.
This isn’t the first time. And you’re so tired.
When will this end ?
It’s as if you don’t even exist. You feel useless, worthless, unworthy and like you’re a burden. It’s like an elephant is sitting on you, holding you down and keeping you from living (but also keeping you from dying ?). It’s as if you watch, lifeless and numb, as everyone carries around unaware you even exist, unaware of your constant fight inside, unaware…
You did try to talk about it.
A few times.
To friends. Or, at least, people you thought were friends. Because when you started to finally talk about your never-ending suicidal ideas, they shrugged it off as you being too stress. Or said things like : “you need to seek professional help” and HOW ?!
Your health insurance wasn’t covering therapy sessions. You barely scraped by, like many in Gotham City…how could you afford professional help ? You knew they were right. You did need to see a therapist. But you also all knew that their suggestion was unfortunately impossible.
Because you didn’t have the money. Because this was “the American dream”, and you didn’t even have time to do any self-care. When you weren’t working, you were sleeping. And vice-versa. Or quite literally, you would end up not even being able to pay to survive (and was it so bad ?).
And so here you are. All alone again. And you feel like you’re drowning in the middle of the ocean, and Death is a floating raft. All you can do is to keep wading until you completely exhaust yourself, or finally climb aboard it…
Nobody could help. Nobody would help anyway.
You were sure of it.
Because you already tried to talk, and the answers were all the same. Friends ended up drifting away from you. Couldn’t blame them. After all, who would want to be around someone who could sometimes just be a total buzzkill, and rant too much about how they felt everything was wrong ?
When you so often felt suicidal, rejection from others was normal, you thought.
Others too, had to take care of their own mental health. Being around you was a curse. That’s how it felt. Talking to you drained people. And your countless call for help ended up isolating you even more.
Why ? Did they not understand ? Was it too much for them ? Was helping someone like you…just impossible ? An unbearable burden ?
Yes. Yes. That was it.
And this was it.
The wall was easy to climb. You didn’t meet anybody on your way up to the rooftop, and there was not a soul around to even try to stop you. Everything was aligned, that night.
And here you were, on the edge of the building.
And strangely, you weren’t scared. There was even a sense of peace. Because it was all going to be over soon. This endless pain. It was going to be gone. You just needed to take one small step forward.
And you did. Closing your eyes, and feeling both relieved this was going to end soon, and scared of what was going to happen afterward.
It was too late to think about it. Because you took that step. And you started falling. And-
Stopped.
Right in your tracks.
A hand took hold of your arm, just as you were falling. You turn around and…
************
That, you didn’t expect.
You were ready. Everything was aligned. And then-
A hand. A strong one at that. Pulling you away back on the edge.
And then arms wrapping around you, to make sure you’re not going to resist and try to jump again.
You’re too surprised to resist. You turn your head, and…
Batman ?
THE Batman ?
What the fuck.
************
“Um. Can you let go ?”
“Can I ?”
“I’m not going to jump.”
“Promise ?”
“What the- Are you a child ?”
“I’m sorry. I cannot let you go if you do not promise.”
“What even makes you think I will keep my promise ?”
“A feeling.”
A feeling that is right. You hate people who break their promises. Maybe because too many people broke theirs to you ?
You nod. When he doesn’t make a move to let you go, you groan and say out loud :
“Yeah yeah. I promise.”
“Alright.”
He releases you, and doesn’t take you away from the edge. Why ? You’re not sure. Maybe because he knows he can just stop you again if he has to ? You can see a grappling hook, on that belt.
Not like you were going to jump anyway. You promised. You weren’t going to. At least, not right now.
There’s an awkward silence. What is going to happen now ? You’re not sure how long this goes on, this weird staring at each other.
You look at him, he looks at you. Neither moving. Neither speaking.
Too awkward. You have to say something. And so you do :
“Um, are you just going to stand there ?”
“Until I’m sure you’re safe, yes.”
“Don’t you have people who actually wants to be saved to, you know, save ?”
“I cannot leave until I’m sure you’re safe.”
A dry chuckle escapes you. One full of sarcasm, which he clearly understands. You’re sure he’ll eventually leave. Once that bat signal turns on, he’ll leave.
Everyone leaves eventually.
And then everything will be aligned again, for you to do what you came here to do. Because what if he stopped you ? He couldn’t change what was in your heart. Nobody could. And you just wanted the pain to stop.
Death was the only hope.
Ah. Funny. “Hope”. Because what was going to happen next, revolved entirely around hope, right ?
************
He stayed. What else could he do ?
Early in the morning, he had a few meetings at Wayne Enterprises (he only just recently decided to fully commit to his job there). And now, there was maybe other people to help. But he couldn’t leave you.
What could he do, but stay ?
He knew that force wouldn’t work. That if he, let’s say, put you in a cell for the night so that you had no mean to kill yourself, it would make things worst. Once upon a time, to be fair, he probably would’ve done that. Put you somewhere he was sure you couldn’t harm yourself, maybe tie you up or something, and leave to go beat up criminals who needed a beating.
But that was him before. And he couldn’t leave. The bat signal wasn’t on anyway. No emergencies. Except for this one, right in front of him.
Except for you, eyes devoid of hope and looking lost.
A kind of “lost” he understood oh too well.
When he was younger, he had felt so desperate that he wanted to die. Just for the pain to stop. And if Alfred hadn’t been there, he’s pretty sure he would’ve tried to end it all at one point.
But during that time, Alfred was annoyingly (but fortunately) always there. He never let his dear “Master Bruce” out of his sight for too long, because he knew how the boy felt.
At the time, Bruce didn’t believe him. But Alfred knew. Bruce just didn’t care enough yet to ask about the majordomo’s past life, before he became the faithful Wayne family’s butler…But that was another story.
Long story short, Alfred understood. And so he made sure to be the boy’s shadow for years (and even Bruce never realized how much that was true). Up until Bruce’s despair turned into the need for vengeance, and he left to train, coming back years later with this “Batman” idea…
Although he didn’t have those thoughts anymore, Bruce knew how it felt. Knew how it was, to be overwhelmed by this sense of isolation. Like nobody understands, and you don’t want to bother them anyway.
He felt this before. When the pain inside you has so far exceeded your threshold, that your only option left is to give up, or give into it (which he did, as he turned to violence for an ounce of relief). It’s like you keep trying to swim back ashore, but isn’t getting anywhere closer, and you’re just slowly wearing out as if caught in a riptide, drifting further and further. Screaming at people on the shore, but they can’t hear you. After a while, you feel like the world and everyone in it will be better off without you.
Bruce told Alfred, once. When he was ten. He told him that he probably would feel better without him. That he was a burden and stopped him from living his life properly. Alfred, in that moment, did something he still regrets up until now, but that shook Bruce to the core.
He slapped him. He slapped him and said : “never say that again, a world without you in it, Master Bruce, would not be worth living for.”
Did the Alfred think like him, then ? Without his parents, it didn’t feel like he should go on. Only ten, too smart for his own good already, and matured too fast. It stuck with him though. This slap. And Alfred’s words.
A lot of time, he genuinely thinks it’s because he kept thinking of the man who became his father figure, that he didn’t end it all. And because he turned his grief and despair into hate, which wasn’t the solution either.
Yes. Bruce knows. He knows what it is to be at the end of the line.
So he stays. Right there. Next to you.
There’s a silence. A long one. And he just stays.
He doesn’t guilt trip you for your thoughts and behavior, he doesn’t try to argue with you about the morality (or immorality ?) of suicide. He doesn’t do what so many people did before him.
You don’t feel ashamed, somehow.
So many people belittled you, although not on purpose, for feeling the way you felt. And he doesn’t. Even as you thought this was exactly the kind of man to do that.
He doesn’t. And he’s here. He stays.
Naturally, you both sit down on that dangerous edge. You don’t think about jumping though, too taken aback by this man sitting next to you.
“Do you want to talk ? It’s ok if you don’t.”
For so long, ever since you were rejected by a few friends when you talked about it, you found yourself unable to tell anyone your true feelings. You were unsure how to speak about it. Concerned they wouldn’t understand. Fearful of being judged and shunned. Worried you’d upset them.
But here is that man, dressed as a bat, who’s pastime you knew was to beat up criminals…sitting there. Asking you if you wanted to talk to him. And telling you it was ok if you didn’t.
And you found yourself beginning to talk.
About how you were born in Gotham’s slums, and you knew nothing else. How you thought it was normal, to constantly be abused because that was the only life you knew. How you first broke down, and nobody was there to help.
You tell him about things he already knows. He’s aware how tough life in Gotham can be, and how it affects people’s mental health. Gotham had one of the highest suicide rate in the country…
He tells you you’re not weaker than some people. He tells you resilience isn’t always a quality. That everyone breaks, at some point. And that reaching for help is ok. That it’s hard, even. That it took him a long time to understand that.
And your suspicions are confirmed. He also went through what you’re going through.
And you continue. You talk. And talk. And talk. And he listens. Truly listens.
“This city took everything from me.” You say. And he answers :
“I know.”
That’s when the tears start. And don’t stop for a long time. You barely notice an arm around your shoulder, making you feel oddly safe.
And you cry. God. You needed that.
He doesn’t tell you your feelings are wrong. He doesn’t tell you “you don’t have good enough reasons to feel depressed, and lost, and alone, and pain”. He doesn’t tell you you have to change. He doesn’t judge you.
It’s not your fault you have those thoughts. It’s not. And by not making you feel small because you hurt (sometimes without knowing the reason why), he already helps. It’s ok. It’s ok. Your feelings are valid.
They are valid.
The sun comes up. And he’s still here.
“You’re really not going ?”
“I’m really not going.”
“Won’t people be suspicious if you’re not around today ? In your real life, I mean ?”
“I doubt that. So, I’ll stay. Just for a little longer. Okay ?”
Silence again. Up until you turn your head to look at the horizon, and answer :
“Okay.”
************
All it took was someone reaching out. All it took was finally truly saying “yes” to this help.
“I was blinded by my emotions. I couldn’t see past those hopeless feelings. Now, things are clearer to me. Suicidal thoughts aren’t permanent, things do improve. You can find your motivation to live again. Please, reach for help.”
Bruce was so proud. You went such a long way, since he met you that fateful night. Things weren’t always easy. Hell no, quite the contrary.
There were times he was sure he was going to lose you, if he only closed his eyes for once second. That you were going to make that jump…
He never left though. No matter how hard things were. Because he promised himself he would never again let despair overtake him, and because you were too good a soul for him to not try everything possible to keep you away from that dark pit.
After that day and night, when he stayed with you up until you promised you would stay safe, he kept on checking on you.
Every single day. No matter how little time he had. He came by, even if for just a few minutes. And he was the first step to you recovering from your suicidal thoughts.
“Build your support network”, was one of the first advice your therapist gave you (therapist you were able to see thanks to an “anonymous benefactor”, not suspicious at all…As if you didn’t immediately guess it was him). A precious advice. Because it truly was primordial. Up until then, you realized you just weren’t around people who were good for you. The toxic environment didn’t help your thoughts, and it wasn’t normal that some people made you feel worthless and as if it was your fault you weren’t feeling well.
Surrounding yourself with positive influences and people who made you feel good about yourself was the key. And who else but him, made you feel the best ? You would’ve never thought that The Batman was so funny, and witty. You always had that image of him being super scary (which is the feeling he wanted to instill), but he wasn’t. He could even be really sweet (he did came by EVERY SINGLE DAY).
The more you invested yourself in other people, in your community, the more you realized you had to lose. Which helped you ground yourself in reality. Because yes, now, you did have things and people to lose. And it helped you stay positive and onto recovery.
Because he was around so much, it became easy for you to guess who he really was. You could see “Bruce Wayne” getting more and more invested in bettering Gotham…how could you not recognize that jawline ?
You waited for him to tell you first though. Which he did. And that was another thing : trust.
Trust in others. Recovered. Thanks to him (and to him, thanks to you).
He did tell you. One day when he wasn’t feeling well, and needed your support. This is why you work so well together. When one falls, the other one is always there to catch them.
You helped each other to identify your “triggers”, and other situations that lead to feelings of despair. The anniversary of his parents’ loss, your first mental breakdown, sounds that were too loud, drugs…You made a list. And made sure you would be careful, not getting upset at others if they triggered you. Because how could they know ? You were responsible for your triggers.
But you two ? You knew the other one’s weaknesses. You knew what could send them over the edge. So when a situation arose, you were always saving each other.
You also developed “self-care days”, or moments, if you didn’t have much time. Ate right, never skipped a meal (Alfred made sure of that), and got enough sleep (not “plenty” unfortunately…but enough). Exercised a lot too, which released the right amount of endorphins…Not like Bruce didn’t exercise before. Maybe doing it with you now, did help ?
Somewhere along the way, your relationship naturally bloomed into love. A kind of love you never felt before. A kind of love worth living for.
“Life is worth it, and I’ll prove it” he once told you, near the beginning of it all. You were skeptical, and told him “sure”, rolling your eyes. But he did.
He did prove it to you. Every single day. Even before you fell for him, and he for you. He showed you the things worth living for.
Helping others, making the suffering of people smaller, a simple smile could brighten someone’s day. As The Batman, he often encountered situations that were desperate, and he couldn’t always save everyone…
But hope never died. That’s something he showed you. Every day.
One, two, three…one hundred, two hundred, three hundred…The number of days he kept trying increased. Love slowly build itself.
A love worth living for.
And there were so much more, worth living for.
You developed new interests. Being with Bruce gave you the opportunity to volunteer a lot, and your life took a new sense of meaning and purpose when you were finally able to build foundation for others. Such as the one you created now, to help those in need who struggle with mental illnesses. And hey, when you’re doing something fulfilling, you always feel better about yourself.
Yes. You both help one another tremendously. Although you will always felt he helped you more, and he was the reason you slowly found a new taste for life. All it took, was the impulse he gave you.
His endless pain turned into endless hope. Given to you.
“I know the fear of loss because of you” you once told him, and this was a good thing, although it sounded like it wasn’t. Because being afraid of losing what you loved, or thinking of him once again losing someone he loved…
“Life is worth it, I’ll show you.”
He did. He did show you.
You couldn’t help but think there was a little “luck” factor, that you saw as destiny. Fate. You met the right person, at the right moment. Every rejection you went through, every toxic relationship, lead you there.
On that rooftop, on that night.
You met the right person, at the right moment.
You both did.
You, because you were saved (although this didn’t came with a snap of the fingers, you actually WORKED hard on yourself to finally feel a little better…The support did help).
Him, because it was right at a moment he needed to know there really was hope. And convincing you to not jump, that day, was just that.
Pure hope.
Which fructified.
Because look where you both were, now.
You, talking about the important issue of mental illnesses, and opening your first very own organizations to help those who need help but cannot afford it.
And him, still being The Batman, but one who achieved and found his purpose.
Both of you, becoming beacons of hope in a city that desperately needed it, and that was slowly rediscovering the sunshine.
_________________________________________________
This story is very personal and close to my heart. I poured all my feelings into it. This is a therapeutic story, to close a really bad chapter in my life. I’m doing great now so please don’t worry, but felt like I needed to write this. I hope you liked it. And a few more words :
If you feel suicidal, please call your countries’ lifeline (it does help). Or talk. To anyone. Do not stay alone. The hardest step is to reach out, and I know it’s hard, especially since there WILL be people who reject you for how you feel. My DMs are always open, if you need to talk. And unlike many, I really mean it. I went through this, and am one who luckily survived. Writing this story was like purging myself from the “experience” (my English is lacking to find the right word), and I know how it feels to be fully consumed by those thoughts. Reach out. Please. This is your sign to not give up just yet.
Synopsis : “(Y/N) Wayne, Gotham’s biggest drug lord ? What will her husband, who works closely with Batman, think ?” said the headline in today’s paper. And you’re not sure if you should be fuming, or bursting out laughing. Oh, oh mother of all misunderstanding. It definitely doesn’t help, that your children think this situation hilarious.
As usual comments and reblog are very welcomed, and I hope you like this little story ! :) :
You could see him, there, out the corner of your eye, that infamous smug look on his face. And you were currently trying to ignore him, drinking your coffee and pretending to read a book.
Infuriating. The boy was infuriating.
And he knew it.
Dick smirked, knowing indeed full well that you weren’t able to completely ignore him and how he kept staring at you, clearly waiting for you to ask him what was going on.
But you refused. Stubborn.
You were not going to play this game. Not today. You woke up on the wrong side of the bed, had a tough day at work waiting ahead of you, and getting annoyed at your son that early in the morning was not on your schedule.
As if he cared. Little sh*t.
He knew what he was doing. He’d done this kind of thing a million times ever since he first came into your life, barely eight years old and already too smart for his own good.
Finally, realizing you weren’t going to react at him obnoxiously looking at you, he says, a hint of mischievousness in his voice :
“Moooooom” and you know he’s about to tell you something just to mess with you. You hear it in his intonation. This is a “Mooooom” that means : “I’m about to say something that is going to piss you off, and I’m gonna have fun doing it.”
And so he continues :
“Are you aware there’s rumors spreading fast that you’re apparently one of Gotham’s most prominent drug lord ?”
There’s a short silence. You know, the time for you to process what he just said. And then you slowly put your book down. Turn to him, trying to stay as calm as possible (because WTF IS THAT RUMOR ??), and say, the tension in your voice palpable :
“Excuse me ?!”
He nods, taking a fake grave expression, showing you the headline of one of Gotham’s most famous newspaper, and answers :
“Oh yeah. There’s pictures of you going in dark alleys with packages and all. Very sus mom.”
He knows he successfully just got on your nerve. His condescending tone, his expression that seemed to say : “really mom ? I expected better from you”, and the fact he most definitely was telling that to you JUST to irritate you.
Yes. Mission : success, as you exclaim :
“Wh-OH HEY ! You know why I do that !!”
************
Yes. Of course he knows. Is that going to stop him from getting a rise out of you though ? Hell no. He always thought it was amusing, when you’d get annoyed at him. He LOVED to push all your buttons, and he was probably, amongst your children, the best at it.
Although, they all had quite a talent to get on your nerves when they wanted to.
Contrary to popular belief, you were far from being a perfect mother. Sometimes, whether on purpose or not, your kids annoyed you. You didn’t have an endless amount of patience. Not every day was rainbows and sunshine, sometimes you weren’t in the mood.
And your kids ? Well, if only they didn’t have the joyous hobby of purposefully seeking you out when you were in those moods, just to annoy you further (the point was to get you very mad, so you’d evacuate your bad mood, and then you’d feel better…and it worked every time, you’d get incredibly irritated, and then things would just diffuse by themselves).
Jason
Oh my God JASON. That little…
Jason was a MASTER at annoying you on purpose. He never did that when he was a kid, too afraid you’d send him away if he was too much of a nuisance (a thought that genuinely broke your heart).
But after he died and came back to life ? After all the hurt he went through, and the resentment that neither you nor Bruce killed the Joker ? Well, even as he slowly came to forgive you, he would sometime get small revenge by being a brat.
Leaving his dirty close RIGHT NEXT TO THE LAUNDRY BASKET. He’d never fully close drawers or cupboard doors. He’d always put back empty bottles in the fridge. He was the greatest at stealing every single phone charger in the house. He’d tell you that he needed something just after you just went grocery shopping. He’d leave the shower curtain just outside the bath, so that the entire bathroom was a goddamn swamp…Any petty thing you could think of ? He would do. Just to annoy you.
And it worked.
Whether he thought it was funny when you got mad, or because he just wanted to act out a little revenge.
It always worked.
Damian and Tim
Damian and Tim worked in a team, to manage to piss you off. They, in fact, perfected their technique so well that it was impossible for you not to get annoyed at them.
They did it when they were bored, to get a rise out of you, which they found very amusing (as long as you didn’t actually got angry, cause you were scary when angry…but annoyed ? Oh that, that was fun).
Yes. They were very proficient in the act of “squabbling”.
Getting into arguments with each others over the most trivial things ever. It had the great tendency to exasperate you. Just the other night, they were taking great pleasure into arguing with each other over who had the most french fries in their plate. They LOVED to argue over literally nothing, because they knew it greatly irked you, which they just found funny.
Cassandra
Your daughter was an angel, wasn’t she ? Always so nice, attentive to others, caring…Yeah. Yeah she was all that. But she also wasn’t perfect. And when she was bored, she’d often purposefully get on your nerve so you’d take care of her.
“Bored.” She’d say repeatedly, and then proceed to sigh every two seconds, right in your ear, up until you paid attention to her.
Oh, and she always ALWAYS stole your favorite clothes, never to be returned..
Duke
Duke was insidious in his way to annoy you. There was ONE thing he’d always do, because he thought it was funny to see you and Bruce panic and rush :
Every time there was an important school event, or somewhere you had to be for him, he’d remind you barely half an hour before said event and pretend like he told you about it ages ago, and you forgot. It was always nerve wracking, to suddenly have to find free time. And it was particularly frustrating, because he would enjoy himself way too much during those times.
Damn brats.
So,yes. You weren’t the perfect mother. And although you often felt a pang of guilt when you were annoyed at them, you also were aware this was normal and that you couldn’t always be at your best.
Especially when they were purposefullygetting on your nerves.
Like right now, as Dick thought it extremely funny that you were accused by the Gotham Sun (one of the city’s most infamous tabloid newspaper) of being a prominent drug lord !
************
Obviously, you were panicking over it. What if this sprout Gotham PD to put their nose in your business ? What if it lead to them discovering the truth about your family of vigilantes ?? Oh, and the fact your eldest son was finding it so amusing didn’t help.
“You out of all people know why I do that !”
“I do. But the people of Gotham don’t.”
His smirk is even wider now, and you’re fuming. How dare he make light of this very important situation ?! Especially since he knew the truth.
It became a habit, over the years, that during some nights, you would bring food to your family while they’re on duty…You certainly never expected the media to completely misunderstand your totally normal back and forth in dark alleyways late at night !
Taking food to them was the only sure way you knew they’d eat (of course, you wouldn’t go out when there was immediate danger in Gotham, just during normal “shifts”).
Dick was fine with everything. Ever since he was a little boy, he had a great appetite and it was sometimes a wonder to you how he never gained weight. Sure, he worked out a lot, but you also often saw him eat his entire meal, and then eat whatever his siblings didn’t finish…You all called him “the garbage can” when he was eating. He’d literally finish everyone’s plate, no matter what was in it. So bringing him food was easy, anything would do.
Jason had always been fond of burgers. You know what’s the good thing about burgers ? You can make declinations of it infinitely. Make different kind of patty (meat or veggie), change the kind of bread, the filling etc. That meant that although he always asked for burgers, he often had a diverse food option available to him whenever you’d do your little delivery service.
Tim was a picky eater, and was the toughest to cook for. Things had to be at a certain temperature or he wouldn’t eat it (he had sensory issues). He didn’t like change, and often ate the same meals, which had to be cooked by you or Alfred, or he just wouldn’t eat it.
Damian loved your veggie sandwiches, and anything from the falafel place on fifth avenue. He wasn’t a picky eater, as long as there were no meat, he was pretty much good. He always thought your cooking, even the most rudimentary of things, was delicious.
Cassandra was a huge fan of gyozas, and you would always bring her an assortment of it, whether homemade or not. Shrimps, chicken, pork, veggie…She loved it all, and it was quite impressive how much she could ingest, given her size.
Duke had fancy tastes. Ever since he came to live with you and Bruce, he’d discover a cuisine he never got to try before…And it stuck with him. What other kid would ask for caviar sandwiches, lobster rolls and other high end salmon for dinner ? It amused you greatly, and honestly, you were glad he found a new passion in food. He even followed gastronomy blogs now. So you’d bring whatever he wanted to him, often using your billionaire status to not rise suspicion in the fact that you’d ask fancy gastronomic restaurants to “take away” their meal. They just took it as another caprice.
Bruce ? Bruce would take anything you gave him, quite like Dick. However, unlike his son, his children often had to remind him to eat his food, as he had a tendency to get too entranced in his work. Your kids definitely snitched on him, and so, so he wouldn’t make you mad, he took a habit of eating the things you brought him automatically. How many times a thug was taken down by a Batman who had half a sandwich in his mouth ? Probably too many times.
Yes. You had a little “Batmom’s food delivery” thing going on, driving all around town as your kids and husband were often scattered all over the place, to give them their meals.
In retrospect, yeah. To anyone outside your family, this probably looked a little shady ! Who saw you ? Oooh this was dangerous.
If someone noticed you were going in dark alleyways late at night, with packages in your hand, and then would come out without them, it could be dramatic for your family. What if you were actually followed ? And people saw you give the food to your family ? They’d surely discover their identities in no time !
This was terrible. And oh you wished your son wasn’t cracking himself up right now, thinking about how people might believe now that his mom was a drug dealer !!
It true, that it was funny to think about. (Y/N) Wayne, prominent figure in Gotham’s charity scene, wife of the richest man in the city and one of the richest person in the country, often seen as an excellent mother and faithful wife…dealing drugs during her free time ?
You could see the irony in it all. How this “drug” thing was drastically going against the image you wanted to give the media (a false image of course, because you always appeared “perfect” in public, but in real life, you were often quite a mess. Or, in other words : human).
Bruce and you carefully crafted your public figure for years, for it to be completely shattered by this rumor…
It was even worst, that in the headline, they were involving Bruce and his possible reaction to discovering you were supposedly dealing drugs ! For sure he would have to make a public statement, and how to explain your late venture into Gotham’s dangerous streets ?
Damn the media, and their nosy journalists. Who even noticed you were doing this ?? Who noticed you, in casual close and not even using one of your many fancy cars, at 3 am, roaming the city ??
You were going mad, and while you were overthinking everything, your son kept imitating the media and inventing more and more outrageous possible rumors about you (”(Y/N) Wayne, definitely cheating on her husband with Batman”), driving you even madder.
************
It was infuriating how everyone but you seemed to take the news lightly.
You were now all around the breakfast table, and the news of that tabloid title quickly spread. Of course it did. Dick made sure the first thing every one saw when coming in the room, was that said newspaper.
“Mom, are you a drug dealer ?!” Tim exclaimed, fakely shocked, taking an over the top tone. Damian, who was right next to him, added :
“And you were my role model ! I’m so disappointed…If even you are bad, who can I trust ?!”
He had a knack for theatrics, and his siblings giggled as he splayed himself on the table, as if he had fallen into great despair.
“And you dare to lecture me…How ironic.”
Jason said, shaking his head in a way that was so obnoxious to you.
“And I thought you were a respectable woman. The disillusion is too grand for me to even fathom it.”
Duke and his high and mighty way of talking make his siblings burst out in laughter, while you’re boiling inside. How dare they make fun of you in such a serious situation ??
“Mom. No chill.”
Noooo, et tu, Cassandra ? She was clearly enjoying the events too. And if you weren’t so annoyed, you would be touched by how close your kids were. How they had such a great “partner in crime” dynamic, getting along so well. Ah, if only they weren’t ganging up against you right now !
“Am I going to have to arrest you ? I do recall you don’t mind handcuffs though…”
Bruce says, smirking (a kind of smile way too similar to Dick’s, that definitely got on your nerve). And you’re pretty sure you just reached a level of annoyance like never before.
“Ew dad, what the Hell ?! Can you not ? Breaking the mood a little here..”
If you weren’t so annoyed (and worried), you would’ve definitely taken the perch Bruce was extending to you, and play into it, acting all lovey dovey with him so your children’s want of messing with you would vanish, disgust taking its place instead (followed by them quickly leaving).
The fact you don’t react though, shows them you’re actually worried and worked up and…they drive the nail into the coffin even further.
You were their mom. They loved you. Deeply and dearly. But did that stop them from driving you absolutely crazy, and messing with you ? Absolutely not. They knew that this situation was actually nothing serious (rumors about your family were plenty, and they always died down quickly).
And hey, let’s be honest, you messed with them often too. So let them have their fun a little. Dick continues, taking a pensive voice :
“Mmm, this could be honestly a problem.”
And then, all “hell” break loose as they each give a little comment, infuriating you more and more :
“Yes, what if there is a police warrant to search the Manor ?”
“Frankly mom, I expected better of you.”
“Right ? I’m so disappointed. This could be the end of everything for us, all because you weren’t careful enough.”
“Honestly, we could’ve lived without your food’s delivery anyway.”
“Moooom, drugs ? Really ?”
“Are you a drug dealer mom ? ARE YOU ?”
“You know what we do to drug dealers right ?”
“ARE YOU A DRUG DEALER MOM ? TELL US THE TRUTH ? ARE YOU SELLING “OREGANO” IN THE STREETS ?!”
Oh. Oooh little sh*ts.
The hyperbolic way they dramatized everything, and how their tone was so condescending and over the top…This was it.
This was the moment that they got on your never so bad, that everything slowly diffused itself. You know, like how a kettle suddenly goes into hypertension, “screaming” loudly, and then stops when the water is fully boiled ?
This moment always came, when they purposefully tried to annoy you (which might be their ultimate unconscious goal ? To make you feel better ? Who knows, there was also the very real possibility that they just liked to drive you mad).
You’d get obviously upset, which amused them. They’d push your buttons to the max. You’d talk back to them, to their great enjoyment. And then, poof.
It was over.
They left, snickering, content that they managed to get the better of you.
You sighed, frustrated at yourself that they, once again, won.
And it was over.
“Every time, huh ?”
Bruce said, also pretty amused by the way your children could get you to your boiling point in no time (and to be fair, they also drove him crazy on purpose).
“Yeah. Every freaking time.”
Rumors of you being a drug lord was definitely going to be used by your children to get on your nerves. If only you’ve had had a head’s up ! You turn to your husband, your eyes narrowing at him :
“You knew, didn’t you ?”
He acts all innocent, and answers :
“Knew what, exactly ?”
“About that article ? No way you wouldn’t know before it was printed. You know everything.”
“Do I, now ?”
“Bruce…”
“What if I knew ? What are you going to do about it ?”
Oh. Oh your husband too, could be a little sh*t. He definitely knew about it. And didn’t tell you because he knew what your kids would do. He knew they’d notice before you, and use it to mess with you.
“You know, my heart, you better be careful. You won’t know when, nor where, but one day, I’ll take my revenge.”
“Mmm, weren’t you the one that told me revenge is a fool’s game ?”
“Was I ? Can’t recall.”
“You’re getting more suspicious every second, maybe you really are a drug lord, my love.”
You glare at him, as he wraps his arms around your waist and bring you closer :
“Just you wait mister Wayne, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Mmm, I’m awaiting with great expectations.”
One last smirk, one last sigh from you, and then you’re kissing. Deeply, and passionately. Because you have a lot of stress and frustration to release.
But oh, if he thinks a good kiss will make you forget…
************
You don’t know why you worried so much.
Or why you let your children get the better of you like that.
Of course Bruce would’ve had a contingency plan. Of course, he would keep an eye on the only newspaper he didn’t own in Gotham. They had a tendency to spread fake news about your family. And in a way, it did a great disservice to them, because nowadays, less and less people took them seriously.
Their bias against Bruce Wayne was showing too much. Like that ridiculous time their headline stated : “Bruce Wayne, is he Batman ?” which at the time everyone thought was SO ridiculous ! Nobody could fathom the famous “Brucie Wayne” being this hyper-violent vigilante Batman. Plus, at the time, both of them had been seen at the same place at the same time (thanks to Alfred). In a way, the fact this newspaper, which was owned by none other than Oswald Cobblepot, was always trying to defame your family, made it easier to discredit it.
It did came close very often to ruining everything though. Fortunately, Bruce always had a plan.
Like right now.
There was no point in pretending you guys hadn’t heard of the rumors. In fact, playing dumb right now would only confirm the Gotham Sun (Cobblepot’s newspaper) claim that you were guilty. So Bruce called a press conference, and in a very Bruce way, turned the situation around completely.
You were reminded, once again, why you loved that man so much. You knew he hated to speak publicly, but unfortunately often was forced to. When it came to you though ? He didn’t find it hard to speak. And he spoke very well. A little scary in a way, how manipulative he could be at times. How he could turn a situation to his advantage, just with his words.
The fact that the rumor of you being a drug lord came from Oswald Cobblepot’s newspaper made it easy to disband it.
First, because again, the bias against your family was well known and often made people suspicious of negative things posted about you all. But second, “The Penguin”s shady activities were a well known “secret”, and talking about his “alleged” ties to the narcotic industry in Gotham was enough.
Oswald Cobblepot was not a liked man. The Waynes though ? Everyone loved you. A little too much at times (it made making any kind of mistakes very scary, because you would risk disappointing a lot of people etc etc).
Bruce let you speak, and you explained that yes. You were the one going in alleyways with packages…for the homeless of Gotham ! You had no involvement in drugs ! It was actually a well known fact you hated drugs ! After what happened to your family…(everyone loved a good sob story).
It was true, that when you brought food for your family, you always left some for people in needs. And it was easy to believe, for the people of Gotham.
They knew your family. They knew how involved the Waynes were in bettering the city.
And so the story ended, the rumor vanished…Except in your home.
This thing about you being a “drug lord” just became another way for your children to mess with you, and annoy you to great length.
Damn brats.
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I was thinking about what the Batfam eat when they spend long nights out, and how neither Alfred nor Batmom would actually let them skip a meal and…here we are. I hope you liked this ! Comments and reblogs are always beyond appreciated <3 !
Also, I was thinking about how sometimes, my brother and I purposefully annoy our mother (and it works each time) just because we think it’s funny when she gets mad over small things, and whether the Batkids would do it too haha. And I think the answer is : definitely. So I added, last second, a little part about it.
