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fandomweekly2020-03-08 05:43 pm
queenkatyastar) wrote in fandomweekly2020-03-08 05:43 pm
Entry tags:
[#43] Broken Perfection (Batman)
Theme Prompt: 43: Perfection
Title: Broken Perfection
Fandom: Batman
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/T
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: She's not as perfect as she likes to think, but neither is he.
She likes to think of herself as perfect, the perfect epitome of cat and woman mixed together, all the best traits of each with none of the negatives. She prides herself not just on her criminal career and her love and dedication for cats but also on her very pride, the fact that she will not fall for any man or any ruse again, on her sensuality that makes men putty in her proverbial paws, and on being her own woman. No man can keep her. No cop can catch her. No jail can hold her.
Yet she keeps coming back to the same, old prison time after time. She keeps letting the same man best her time and again. Every time she thinks she's free, every time she thinks she's got the world beat and Gotham as her most delectable oyster, she's the one who ends up being beaten again. To make matters worse, it's almost always because of her own weak and foolish heart.
But not tonight. Tonight, he will not keep her, she vows, flipping up and kicking both feet as hard as she can into his midsection. The dreaded Batman falls back; his handcuffs go scattering, with a flick of her wrist, all the way across the building. She watches his eyes dart to where they finally collide with the far wall, but knows he's got more. She circles around him. He's got more tricks than any cat, including herself. "Not tonight, Batsy," she whispers, but damn it, if her words still don't come out on the border of a purr!
This damn man does things to her, things that no man is supposed to be able to do and that no other man can. He's persuaded her to give herself in before. He's kept her behind bars and in his heart longer than anyone else ever has. He's captured her more times than she cares to admit, and no one will ever know the length to which he's held her heart captive since before that very first time. She's the perfect woman, the perfect burglar, the perfect woman to bring peace and safety to all the cats of the world, and to protect all her children, furry and otherwise. God knows she's taken in too many over the years, but it's because she can do it. She can offer the kids who really need it a helping hand, or paw, better than anyone else, and only he stands in the way of her completing her ultimate mission.
Only he manages to steal her jewels back away. Only he takes her from her children. Only he can stop her, and only, she tells herself, because she lets him. She's perfect, but there is also, the scholars have said, no such thing as perfection. No better how perfect a thing, or a woman, she can always be improved. She can always be stopped. But not tonight, she promises herself again. Tonight, she has hungry kittens and hungry street urchins waiting on her, and she's got the means to feed them, herself, and millions more and keep them all as happy as fat cats in the bag she's still holding.
"Selina," he says, countering her, "it doesn't have to be this way."
"Yes, Bruce, it does. You won't see the truth. You refuse to see how much society hurts the children -- "
"They're cats," he argues, a point that's gotten him slapped and blood drawn before.
"And kids." He doesn't need to know, she tells herself, and it wouldn't matter even if he knew. He'd have her have their child behind bars, because in his book, that's where she belongs: rotting away in a jail cell waiting for him to have more time and love for her than for Gotham. They both know that's never going to happen.
She reaches out to him suddenly, swaying over the weight of the emotions in her heart and mind. Her agile, strong arms wrap around him and pull him close. She purrs and kisses him long and deep, her tongue tasting of his rich nectar and all the things they could have been together, all the things they have been, all the things they will always be, -- and all the things they will never be. She will never come first for him, nor will their child. He's convinced Gotham is all he really needs. He'd be the perfect man, she realizes, her emerald eyes dancing with mirth that belies sorrow, if he wasn't so damn stupid, putting a city above his own family. Even Alfred agrees, but Bruce won't even listen to him when it comes to Gotham and actually living the life he's been given.
She kisses him as the night grows on, deeper and deeper, feeling him respond against him, knowing that he wants her as badly as she does him. They both want each other. They both love each other. But it can not be. He will never put her first. He will never put their child first. He's the perfect man, but he'll also always be the wrong one. Any man is the wrong one, she tells herself, including him, because any man will keep her from fulfilling her own goals and being the mother all the children, including theirs, need and deserve her to be.
He moans her name into their kiss. She's melting, her eyes drifting closed, and she wants nothing more than to stay here with him and make sweet, wonderful love with the only man to ever touch every part of her, including the deepest parts of her heart, but she knows how it will end in the morning if she does. It takes all her force and dedication to kick him away, but she does. She sends him spiraling back across the building and runs away, taking a leap into the night and the future she must have, a future that, no matter how deeply it hurts, must not involve him.
The End
Title: Broken Perfection
Fandom: Batman
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/T
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: She's not as perfect as she likes to think, but neither is he.
She likes to think of herself as perfect, the perfect epitome of cat and woman mixed together, all the best traits of each with none of the negatives. She prides herself not just on her criminal career and her love and dedication for cats but also on her very pride, the fact that she will not fall for any man or any ruse again, on her sensuality that makes men putty in her proverbial paws, and on being her own woman. No man can keep her. No cop can catch her. No jail can hold her.
Yet she keeps coming back to the same, old prison time after time. She keeps letting the same man best her time and again. Every time she thinks she's free, every time she thinks she's got the world beat and Gotham as her most delectable oyster, she's the one who ends up being beaten again. To make matters worse, it's almost always because of her own weak and foolish heart.
But not tonight. Tonight, he will not keep her, she vows, flipping up and kicking both feet as hard as she can into his midsection. The dreaded Batman falls back; his handcuffs go scattering, with a flick of her wrist, all the way across the building. She watches his eyes dart to where they finally collide with the far wall, but knows he's got more. She circles around him. He's got more tricks than any cat, including herself. "Not tonight, Batsy," she whispers, but damn it, if her words still don't come out on the border of a purr!
This damn man does things to her, things that no man is supposed to be able to do and that no other man can. He's persuaded her to give herself in before. He's kept her behind bars and in his heart longer than anyone else ever has. He's captured her more times than she cares to admit, and no one will ever know the length to which he's held her heart captive since before that very first time. She's the perfect woman, the perfect burglar, the perfect woman to bring peace and safety to all the cats of the world, and to protect all her children, furry and otherwise. God knows she's taken in too many over the years, but it's because she can do it. She can offer the kids who really need it a helping hand, or paw, better than anyone else, and only he stands in the way of her completing her ultimate mission.
Only he manages to steal her jewels back away. Only he takes her from her children. Only he can stop her, and only, she tells herself, because she lets him. She's perfect, but there is also, the scholars have said, no such thing as perfection. No better how perfect a thing, or a woman, she can always be improved. She can always be stopped. But not tonight, she promises herself again. Tonight, she has hungry kittens and hungry street urchins waiting on her, and she's got the means to feed them, herself, and millions more and keep them all as happy as fat cats in the bag she's still holding.
"Selina," he says, countering her, "it doesn't have to be this way."
"Yes, Bruce, it does. You won't see the truth. You refuse to see how much society hurts the children -- "
"They're cats," he argues, a point that's gotten him slapped and blood drawn before.
"And kids." He doesn't need to know, she tells herself, and it wouldn't matter even if he knew. He'd have her have their child behind bars, because in his book, that's where she belongs: rotting away in a jail cell waiting for him to have more time and love for her than for Gotham. They both know that's never going to happen.
She reaches out to him suddenly, swaying over the weight of the emotions in her heart and mind. Her agile, strong arms wrap around him and pull him close. She purrs and kisses him long and deep, her tongue tasting of his rich nectar and all the things they could have been together, all the things they have been, all the things they will always be, -- and all the things they will never be. She will never come first for him, nor will their child. He's convinced Gotham is all he really needs. He'd be the perfect man, she realizes, her emerald eyes dancing with mirth that belies sorrow, if he wasn't so damn stupid, putting a city above his own family. Even Alfred agrees, but Bruce won't even listen to him when it comes to Gotham and actually living the life he's been given.
She kisses him as the night grows on, deeper and deeper, feeling him respond against him, knowing that he wants her as badly as she does him. They both want each other. They both love each other. But it can not be. He will never put her first. He will never put their child first. He's the perfect man, but he'll also always be the wrong one. Any man is the wrong one, she tells herself, including him, because any man will keep her from fulfilling her own goals and being the mother all the children, including theirs, need and deserve her to be.
He moans her name into their kiss. She's melting, her eyes drifting closed, and she wants nothing more than to stay here with him and make sweet, wonderful love with the only man to ever touch every part of her, including the deepest parts of her heart, but she knows how it will end in the morning if she does. It takes all her force and dedication to kick him away, but she does. She sends him spiraling back across the building and runs away, taking a leap into the night and the future she must have, a future that, no matter how deeply it hurts, must not involve him.
The End
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