![]() ![]() He pressed the call button, and lifted the phone to his ear. I’m trying to write it so you don’t have to have read Super Powereds to completely understand the story.īruce took a long breath. The two boys in the story are Chad Taylor and Vince Reynolds from Super Powereds by Drew Hayes. ![]() Hopefully I can get the first chapter onto AO3 soon, but we’ll see how everything goes. Since I’m stuck at home in for the foreseeable future, I’ve decided to actually write something. Source: batman super powereds fanfiction dc batfamily bruce wayne jason todd dick grayson cass cain tim drake damian wayne batman fanfiction vince reynolds chad taylor super powereds fanfiction Bruce doesn’t know how to tell them that going home isn’t possible. The other is the most loving child you will ever meet, but doesn’t know how to operate a microwave. One is more emotionally stunted than all of the Waynes combined. Two metahuman boys fall into Bruce’s life. Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Vince Reynolds, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Chad Taylor, Chad Taylor & Vince Reynolds, Cassandra Cain & Bruce WayneĬharacters: Vince Reynolds, Chad Taylor, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Batman EnsembleĪdditional Tags: Dimension Travel, Alternate Universe, accidental adoption, Adoption, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Touch-Starved, Burns, Minor Injuries, Family Feels, Found Family, Fluff and Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Chad I’m looking at you “All I want is one night of your time.Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Super Powereds - Drew Hayes “Immortality is lonely,” she whispered, her breath ghosting over the warrior’s ear. She felt the witch’s body, pressing firmly against her back. “That I didn’t want your soul?”Ĭool fingers found her cheek. Warmth flooded through the knight - with a gasp, she realized the lashes across her body were healing. “What if I told you,” the witch’s grip tightened. No one walked away from their pacts alive - they couldn’t be trusted. The knight held back a shudder, reminding herself that witches were agents of the dark lord. “I would beg you to reconsider,” murmured a voice like honey and silk. Her eyes swayed her sword struck only smoke.Ī cool hand wrapped around the back of her neck. She staggered to her feet and lunged for the witch. “As I said,” the knight hissed, “I’d rather die.” She circled the fallen warrior, staying just out of reach of the shaking sword pointed at her heart, wary of the knight’s strength even on the brink of death as she was. “You’ll never find the last stone on your own.” The witch shrugged her shoulders. The champion was frozen as she murmured, with all the abhorrent intimacy of a lover, “I own your heart too.”īy the corpse of the dragon, the knight, blood dripping from her rosy cheeks, answered with a glare. The eyes she slid onto her champion were dark and amused and wholly devoid of fear. ![]() “Because, my dear.” Her queen slid her legs out from under her covers. “But not your loyalty.” The woman had the audacity to look bored.Īnd the champion foolishly asked, “Why not?” You own the breath in my lungs that fuel my strikes, and the legs I stand on when I cut your enemies to the ground. “You bought my sword,” affirmed the champion, “and the fingers and the palms and the arms that bear it. “You’re going to tell me that I bought your sword alone.” “I see,” said the mouth of the woman she wanted to kill. The champion thought, for a wild moment, that she might use him as a footstool the next time she applied her powders or combed her hair. She spared her fallen guards no more than a cursory look, even the one who had been thrown clean through the wall and folded his spine in half at the foot of her vanity. ![]() In her dreams, it had always been on her own two feet, with her sword to the woman’s throat and fear in those loathsome blue eyes.īut the woman - her lady, her queen, her collar - stared cooly at the champion from her bed. She hated the fact that she had to rely on something just to stand tall and face her most hated enemy eye to eye. As the adrenaline faded from her system, so too did her strength, and she was left leaning on her quarterstaff to stand upright. “No, you didn’t.” The champion stood shakily to her feet, quivering with the effort. ![]()
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