Nightminds - Chpater 1
Title: Nightminds
Chapter: Chapter 1 of ?
Author:spygirl690
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and neither are the lyrics in the prompt.
Rating: R to NC17
Paring: Batman/Joker
Warnings: drug use, graphic violence (in later chapters)
For JL User:
jaelrenatus
Three prompts for writer:
All these quotes from Male Hooker in a Bathtub, a short written by Scott Gross from From Autumn to Ashes.
“I'm losing my ability to do the only thing I know how to do and as the nights are longer I know I must take myself as easily as possible, and I'm not taking you with me.”
“I’m so in love that if you turned your back I’d claw your fucking spine away…”
“You’re the perfect whore.”
Summary: “Sometimes it is the darkness that two people share that can bring them together.” This story examines the months Bruce spent in Princeton before returning home to start his journey in Batman Begins. The title was inspired by the Missy Higgin's song with the same name.
BIG thanks goes to my beta toriolees . You really saved me. I look forward to working with you.
Also - I will be posting a new chapter every Wednesday until the story is finished (it's up to 4 chapters now and there is no end in sight. it's going to be a wild ride)
Find all the previous chapters of Nightminds here.
Chapter One
Bruce lay quietly in his bed and listened to the sounds of the children of the nation’s elite scramble on the floor below him as they planned for the annual Princeton first year prank.
Earlier that day Adrian Belzer, son and heir to an international chain of kosher supermarkets, had approached him with his hand extended as Bruce returned from a run.
“Wayne, Bruce Wayne,” he said with a hint of an East Coast accent. Belzer's argyle sweater was perfectly coordinated with the fall colors, his chinos freshly pressed and Bruce swore he saw a dusting of makeup on his fair skin.
Bruce shook his hand.
“I've seen you around campus over the past few days and I wanted to make sure we had a proper introduction before the school year started,” Belzer leaned in and lowered his voice, “It is always good to know where you're friends are.”
Bruce tried to hold in a sneer. Of course “friends” meant anyone within his own social strata. He hated snobs like Belzer, someone who thought the only people of interest were found within their own economic standing. Yet, his own name required him to interact with these annoyances in argyle.
Belzer started again, in the same low tone, before Bruce could interject, “We're going to steal The Clapper tonight. Care to join us?”
Adhering to the same old traditions, Bruce thought, willing himself not to roll his eyes.
“Unfortunately, I'll have to pass,” Bruce said as cordially as he could, “If I don't get a good nights sleep it just gives me these awful bags under my eyes.”
Bruce added in the last part for laughs because he knew Belzer would buy right into it, which he did.
“Isn't that just the coincidence, I get the same thing. I have an amazing herb blend from Paris that really sets it straight. I'll send a bottle up to you,” Belzer turned away from Bruce to admire the blonde heiress just walking past.
“If you'll excuse me,” Bruce said as he started to retreat towards the elevators at the rear of the lobby.
“No chance I could convince you to join us then?” Belzer called after him.
“Beauty rest,” Bruce said as he entered the paneled elevator on the other side of the small lobby.
An annoyingly inane laugh met his ears as the doors closed, and he could only assume it belonged to Belzer.
The memory made Bruce exhale with aggravation and turn onto his side, the sheets tangling in his shins. As he looked out of the large window across his bedroom another memory crept into his mind.
“Before the first day of class a few of us scrambled up to the top of the bell tower and stole the bell,” Thomas Wayne laughed as he turned a page in his Princeton yearbook.
A eight year old Bruce sat on the large leather sofa next to his father, his cast arm propped up on a few throw pillows. Bruce looked down at the faded pages in the book.
“Why would you do that Dad?” Bruce asked, looking up at his father.
Thomas chuckled and patted Bruce on the back, “because it was fun. It was a great way of letting the professors know they weren't completely in charge.”
His mother appeared through the doorway, of Bruce's bedroom, laughing. Martha laughed and sat on the arm of the sofa so she could look down at her husbands image in the book.
“Your father was just a troublemaker,” she snickered, lightly nudging his arm.
“You didn't complain back then,” Thomas said, smiling at his wife.
Bruce looked down again at the piece of memorabilia, confused, “I don't understand Dad. Even though you stole the bell, classes would stills start anyways...”
A loud thump somewhere in the building startled Bruce out of his thoughts. He rolled again onto his back and gazed up at the white ceiling.
Stealing the bell wouldn't stop classes; it was just a pointless exercise in tradition. It was just like his youth. Even at his most reckless times out of prep school Bruce knew he couldn't stop avoid fact that he was expected to walk in his father's footsteps. Even back then, he knew it had all just been a delay up until this moment, when he had to stop living for himself and start living up to the monumental name of Wayne.
Chapter: Chapter 1 of ?
Author:spygirl690
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and neither are the lyrics in the prompt.
Rating: R to NC17
Paring: Batman/Joker
Warnings: drug use, graphic violence (in later chapters)
For JL User:
jaelrenatus
Three prompts for writer:
All these quotes from Male Hooker in a Bathtub, a short written by Scott Gross from From Autumn to Ashes.
“I'm losing my ability to do the only thing I know how to do and as the nights are longer I know I must take myself as easily as possible, and I'm not taking you with me.”
“I’m so in love that if you turned your back I’d claw your fucking spine away…”
“You’re the perfect whore.”
Summary: “Sometimes it is the darkness that two people share that can bring them together.” This story examines the months Bruce spent in Princeton before returning home to start his journey in Batman Begins. The title was inspired by the Missy Higgin's song with the same name.
BIG thanks goes to my beta toriolees . You really saved me. I look forward to working with you.
Also - I will be posting a new chapter every Wednesday until the story is finished (it's up to 4 chapters now and there is no end in sight. it's going to be a wild ride)
Find all the previous chapters of Nightminds here.
Chapter One
Bruce lay quietly in his bed and listened to the sounds of the children of the nation’s elite scramble on the floor below him as they planned for the annual Princeton first year prank.
Earlier that day Adrian Belzer, son and heir to an international chain of kosher supermarkets, had approached him with his hand extended as Bruce returned from a run.
“Wayne, Bruce Wayne,” he said with a hint of an East Coast accent. Belzer's argyle sweater was perfectly coordinated with the fall colors, his chinos freshly pressed and Bruce swore he saw a dusting of makeup on his fair skin.
Bruce shook his hand.
“I've seen you around campus over the past few days and I wanted to make sure we had a proper introduction before the school year started,” Belzer leaned in and lowered his voice, “It is always good to know where you're friends are.”
Bruce tried to hold in a sneer. Of course “friends” meant anyone within his own social strata. He hated snobs like Belzer, someone who thought the only people of interest were found within their own economic standing. Yet, his own name required him to interact with these annoyances in argyle.
Belzer started again, in the same low tone, before Bruce could interject, “We're going to steal The Clapper tonight. Care to join us?”
Adhering to the same old traditions, Bruce thought, willing himself not to roll his eyes.
“Unfortunately, I'll have to pass,” Bruce said as cordially as he could, “If I don't get a good nights sleep it just gives me these awful bags under my eyes.”
Bruce added in the last part for laughs because he knew Belzer would buy right into it, which he did.
“Isn't that just the coincidence, I get the same thing. I have an amazing herb blend from Paris that really sets it straight. I'll send a bottle up to you,” Belzer turned away from Bruce to admire the blonde heiress just walking past.
“If you'll excuse me,” Bruce said as he started to retreat towards the elevators at the rear of the lobby.
“No chance I could convince you to join us then?” Belzer called after him.
“Beauty rest,” Bruce said as he entered the paneled elevator on the other side of the small lobby.
An annoyingly inane laugh met his ears as the doors closed, and he could only assume it belonged to Belzer.
The memory made Bruce exhale with aggravation and turn onto his side, the sheets tangling in his shins. As he looked out of the large window across his bedroom another memory crept into his mind.
“Before the first day of class a few of us scrambled up to the top of the bell tower and stole the bell,” Thomas Wayne laughed as he turned a page in his Princeton yearbook.
A eight year old Bruce sat on the large leather sofa next to his father, his cast arm propped up on a few throw pillows. Bruce looked down at the faded pages in the book.
“Why would you do that Dad?” Bruce asked, looking up at his father.
Thomas chuckled and patted Bruce on the back, “because it was fun. It was a great way of letting the professors know they weren't completely in charge.”
His mother appeared through the doorway, of Bruce's bedroom, laughing. Martha laughed and sat on the arm of the sofa so she could look down at her husbands image in the book.
“Your father was just a troublemaker,” she snickered, lightly nudging his arm.
“You didn't complain back then,” Thomas said, smiling at his wife.
Bruce looked down again at the piece of memorabilia, confused, “I don't understand Dad. Even though you stole the bell, classes would stills start anyways...”
A loud thump somewhere in the building startled Bruce out of his thoughts. He rolled again onto his back and gazed up at the white ceiling.
Stealing the bell wouldn't stop classes; it was just a pointless exercise in tradition. It was just like his youth. Even at his most reckless times out of prep school Bruce knew he couldn't stop avoid fact that he was expected to walk in his father's footsteps. Even back then, he knew it had all just been a delay up until this moment, when he had to stop living for himself and start living up to the monumental name of Wayne.