( open-ish ) dedicate and sacrifice my everything

[batsymbol]

Who: Bruce Wayne/Batman batsymbol
What: catch-all for the month, largely time travel and event focused
When: Throughout September
Where: Primarily the past
Content Warnings: TBD but let's just say Bruce being Bruce and Batman being Batman.

open to both [brackets] and prose, i'll follow your lead if you have a preference. if you want something else with bruce or bats, shoot me a PM or PP at telekinetics to discuss. otherwise things we've planned/discussed can be dropped in here as well. starters in comments.

Comments

[batsymbol]

( the moment she holds to him, eyes fall shut and he's quiet there on the rooftop with her, their breathing and city life here and there around them filling that silence between them. it's only after a moment or two, everything slowly seems to darken around them — the darkness if the night itself folding in on them and they're sinking then. through a twilight of darkness. cold and vast, yet cocooned around them. it's a darkness that bruce controls — that he travels through when he slips into the shadows within this world.

they disappear from the rooftop — sink into the depths of the darkness that seemingly surrounds them. eyes closed for bruce, focused in the moment. the so-called trip through the darkness lasts for only a handful of seconds at best before they're slipping out of it and inside the building, which seems to be that of an office, dropping down into a break room where a table, chairs, couch are all around, along with a few other amenities.

touching down, the darkness slips away from them and bruce blinks a couple times — takes a moment to look around them before he's looking back to diana. quiet. then kisses her. there in the empty break room. )

[avatarfortruth]

[ Darkness circles them like the cape he isn't wearing tonight – shadows enfolding them – and then there's nothing but shadow, shadow and his warm, steady arm, his body against hers. It's like nothing she's ever experienced before, nothing like the warm, neutral blackness inside the lasso. Her senses are muffled, blanketed by darkness, and then she's blinking at a different sort of darkness. The kind that simply comes of having the lights off at night, while moonlight and starlight filter through windows.

She considers the room they've landed in briefly and with some interest, all of which falls away when he looks back at her, with those blue eyes still so soft.

When he leans forward to kiss her, she tightens her arms around his neck and kisses him back, lips and breath both warm, her body pressing up against his. The metal of her breastplate tight against his armored chest. The glow of the lasso the only light, aside from the moon and stars, that touches them. ]

[batsymbol]

( this is a bad idea, some part of him thinks, but is largely overshadowed by the way her lips feel pressed against his.

gloved hands smooth down her sides, fierce almost in the way he keeps her there against him. somewhere, in the back of his mind, he's aware time keeps ticking away. their time here — before tomorrow catches up to this present they're living in the past and their reason for coming back here in the first place is more than likely found. an event that may or may not take place and a meta who may or may not be involved in changing it... in changing them, possibly.

the thought causes kisses to grow more desperate with her — for a gloved hand to leave her side and cradle the side of her face. like that night in the motel room, falling into this feeling... whatever it is. but willingly falling. into it. into her. into the desperation of wanting and needing something that isn't heartache. that isn't pain. that isn't anger or grief or vengeance. )

[avatarfortruth]

[ His hands caress her, gloved fingers running down along the red fabric of her costume, the red and gold and blue armor that had been gifted to her all those years ago by her sisters, by her mother. When those same gloved fingers curve at her cheek, their touch somehow rough and gentle at the same time, she gasps a breath, shivering at his touch, and for a moment turns her face into his palm. His fingers. Uncaring of the glove between his skin and hers.

Before she kisses him again, and again, warm and wanting, her fingers threading through his hair to grip it. Her other hand tracing down over his neck, his shoulder, to splay her fingers against his chest. Her breath coming quick against his lips, her skin flushed at his touch.

They have tonight. Perhaps they'll have more, after tomorrow. Perhaps they'll be left with nothing. But, right now, all she wants is this: him in her arms, the way she can't stop pressing kisses to his mouth. Nipping lightly at his lip before she smiles against it. ]