It is good to see you, my dear reader. I am the Mistress of the Night, your beloved author. This blog is where I store my most my prized possessions; my stories. If you wish to call upon me by name, I would prefer to be known as Mistress. If you are not comfortable with that name, you may call me Nocturne.
I do hope that you enjoy my writing, as it will enjoy you back. Please note that if you are viewing my blog, and the many stories it will and does contain, take care of yourself. Read the warnings of each chapter, knowing that they are there to protect you. You may find problematic content here, including cannibalism, pseudo-incest, rape and non-con elements, and light to heavy gore.
There is a good chance that if you request something, I will write it.
Please note that none of my stories will ever be written with the use of AI, nor do I give permission for AI to steal from me. This blog is run as a hobby, and I do it for free and for the love of the game.
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Author,
Mistress of the Night, teller of stories and lover of the dammed.
The Red Means... Yandere!Vampire!Rouges x GN!Reader x Yandere!Vampire!Batfam🎀
In the darkness of Gotham, where Vampires rule with an iron fist and drain any human they see of all their blood, one person is immune to their bite. But they are not immune to their love, or their lust.
Part 1 ━━╋━ Part 2 ━━╋━
Who Will Rescue Me? Yandere!Dark!Batman x Baby!Reader
Batman and extended universe, Superman and extended universe, Transformers and extended universe, Jason Voorhees, Micheal Myers, Xenomorphs and characters from the Alien franchise.
Owner of the banner "Navigation" and "Masterlist" is @anitalenia
Owner of the bow divider in the color "Roses" belongs to @cursed-carmine
This October, I'll be attempting to do bits of kinktober! The third chapter of 'The Red Means' will be out soon, and then will be on hold while I work through kinktober. I'm still moving into my new apartment, and I do have a full time job, so I tend to write a bit slower than other blogs. Thank you all for your patience, and happy reading!
Did you die? I been waiting two weeks for part 3😭💔
Hi! Sorry for the late answer!! This whole month I've been working on moving into my new apartment, so I haven't been able to do any writing. I'm hoping that I'll be able to put out work soon, probably around October 1st. I'm sorry I've left you all on a cliff-hanger!!
Platonic Yandere!Dark!Batman x Baby!GN!Reader (no robins yet)
I'm lost at sea without a friend. This journey, will it ever end?
You're so small in his arms. A small bundle wrapped in a light yellow blanket, knitted so lovingly by your mother charred and smudged with soot and ash.
Your fingers curl into a tight grip on his pointer finger as you whimper behind the oxygen mask secured on your little face. Part of an emergency kit he keeps on him, a small tank of oxygen just enough to help a person who is struggling to breathe.
Bruce has never held a child so small, at least not one as precious as you. Sure, he's kissed babies cheeks for the press and smiled indulgently at young children on the street when they wave at him.
But you're different. Your eyes are glazed over with tears, your skin warm from the fire that blazes behind both of you. Your hair lays over your forehead in that baby-soft way that hair is, its long and he brushes a curl away from your eye as you quietly fuss.
The arson behind Bruce is one of his concerns, for sure. A work of Firefly, destruction without meaning and the loss of innocent lives that can never be brought back.
He's not a total sociopath, he's devastated that he was not able to help those poor people...But... When he looks at you and sees a million things, an entire universe, a child who must be some sort of familial soulmate to him with how much he yearns to keep you in his arms forever; it's hard not to think that the loss of life was worth it, if it means Bruce got to meet you.
He slinks away from the crime scene as firefighters pull in, lurking in the darkness and watching with keen eyes as they work tirelessly to put out the fire. He knows that when the embers have cooled, and the dead have been found, that one body will be unaccounted for.
They will assume you were lost among the rubble, and your grave will be left empty.
He pulls his cape around you, and ducks away into the darkness. The batmobile waits, and hums to life without input when Bruce reaches it. He hesitates, a part of him that still is Bruce and not quite Batman, panics. He doesn't have a car seat.
The batmobile has autopilot, yes, but the thought of getting into a possible accident with you makes his skin crawl. He sends the car away, and takes off at a brisk pace through the dark streets of Gotham.
He'll walk the whole way if he has to. If it means he can hold you in his arms, safe and sound.
Just something short and sweet for a warmup while I work on the Vampire story <3 I know it's been a long time coming, but I hope this will satisfy you for a bit <3
Yandere!Vampire!Rouges x Gn!Vampire Slayer!Reader x Yandere!Vampire!Batfam
Masterlist━━╋━
Part 1 ━━╋━ Part 2 (you're here) Part 3 ━━╋━
Characters: You (2nd POV), Tim Drake/Red Robin, Batman/Bruce Wayne, Poison Ivy, Barbra Gordon/Oracle (Mentioned), Dick Grayson/Nightwing.
Warnings: Infantilizing language, blood, canon-typical violence, medical procedures, forced feeding/drinking blood. I'm making up the Vampires as I go, so they might not be traditional to "normal" Vampires.
THIS WORK WAS ***NOT*** WRITTEN WITH THE HELP OF AI, AND MAY NOT BE SCRAPED FOR THE TRAINING OF AI AND/OR OTHER TECHNOLOGY. TAG LIST, AND IMAGE RIGHTS ARE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE POST. Ask box is open for any questions! MDNI.
Your worst fears were real. You were going to die. Your blood wouldn't be drained, but you doubted that Batman would allow you to live after all of this. All of your missions out, all of the Vampires you helped kill. It would all be for nothing. Your party would not know what happened to you, you hoped that they would mourn you.
Batman stood slowly, his cape billowing out around him like a shadow. You couldn't see his face, too obscured by his tall cowl, but you could see his eyes.
Curiously, they were blue. You had been told that all Vampire's eyes turned red, but Batman's eyes were like ice over rushing water. They pinned you down where you stood, analyzing you with a critical gaze.
You were shaking now, blood loss starting to make you dizzy. You took a stumbling step back, which Batman matched with a sort of slow glide that made nary a sound. He was in no hurry to chase you down, as he knew that you would not be able to run far.
Perhaps he was toying with you. Like a lion following after a gazelle it had already torn into, bloodied and limping and moving only out of instinct.
You hadn't realized how tall Batman was until you were face to face with him. You had to crane your neck to look up, tears pooling in your eyes as death stared you down. Neither of you moved, your labored breathing filling the silence of the inches between you. You could smell him, he was so close.
"That isn't your blood," he stated, leather glove-clad hand pinching your cheek and tilting your head from side to side. He paused when he saw your injury, still sluggishly bleeding. The dried blood felt tight against your skin as he moved your chin further upward, stopping only when you gasped in pain at the stretch. His frown deepened into a scowl.
"I found them sneaking around the park." Red Robin's hand was suddenly grasping your arm, pulling you up. You hadn't even noticed you were starting to slump, or that he had caught up to you. "They almost fell for the lamp Jason put up, I didn't smell them until they started to run."
Batman grunted.
"They don't have a Sire," Red Robin continued, his voice lowering in pity, "I doubt they have a clan either. They're soaked in human blood, they had a vial-"
The vial which still hung from your neck limply, mostly emptied of blood. Batman's eyes narrowed a fraction, then raised to meet yours again.
"Why didn't you drink?" He demanded, "why did you run?"
"It's blood?" You argued, "I, I don't drink blood?"
Batman's face twitched, the corner of his lip twitching. His eyes scanned the blood that covered your front, drying against your clothes tacky and dark.
"That's another thing. I don't think they know that they've been turned." Red Robin saddled up next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist again. Before, his grasp had been a cage. Now, it was a crutch. Your eyelids fluttered and you let out a little groan, slumping against him as your knees trembled and threatened to give out.
"No time." Batman pulled away from you, and your head bowed forward as your vision swam with black dots. "Get to the nearest cave. Oracle," he turned away from you and Red Robin, starting to walk away, "prepare the medbay and alert Alfred."
Red Robin held tightly onto your arm, squeezing tightly as Batman shot a grappling bolt into the air and was thrust up into the night with a loud snap of his cape flattening against his back.
Then, you and Red Robin were alone. Gotham's night was oppressive all around you as the moon continued its sluggish climb up into the sky. Storm clouds gathered, but they did not obscure the moon's glow.
Adrenaline sapped from your veins and left you feeling hollow and over-warm. The pain in your neck thudded in an echo in the back of your mind, and your eyelids fluttered feverishly. Red Robin's breath was cold against your forehead as he spoke quickly, but all you could hear was a sharp ringing as you stared up at the bloody moon. The moon stared back at you, a single open eye.
Awareness came back to you slowly, like molasses being poured from a jar. Your body was heavy, every muscle warm and lax from where you were snuggled against another body. Whoever it was, they were like a furnace. Blackgate had always been so cold, the blankets thin and moth-bitten.
Cold was familiar, and it was safe. It meant you were alive another day. Warmth though...It reminded you of what safety meant before the blood moon. When you were a child and your father would put your blanket into the dryer for a few minutes to heat it up, and then tuck you in on a cold winter night. Kissing your forehead, and whispering that he loved you.
A hand pets over your hair, a slow and soothing stroke that stops just at the edge of your skull and restarts at your hairline. The hands aren't cold, cool maybe, and you let out a small noise at the disturbance on your little world of warmth and calm.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" A male voice whispers, and the hand pauses on your hairline. His thumb makes slow circles against your temple as your eyes fight to open, "it's okay, winglet. You don't need to be getting up yet."
You grunt in reply, the last drags of sleep clearing from your mind. You force your eyes open, blinking against the bleariness that coats your eyeballs. When you vision clears, and your mind finally catches up with your body, you realize that something is horribly wrong.
You're in some kind of med bay, you remember Batman saying something about that before you passed out. The walls are brick concrete and painted a light blue with a darker blue trim. There's one window, but the blinds are firmly pulled over it. The floor is linoleum white, and the only door is shut.
An IV bag dangles from a metal frame next to the bed, the thin tube connected to your wrist. Why would Vampires still have those, if they drank blood? Surely, it would've been a waste to keep perfectly good human blood for something as benign to them as a blood transfusion.
The man snuggled behind you seems to sense that you're going to bolt, because as you try to roll out of his arms and off of the bed you've found yourself in a pair of strong arms wrap around your middle.
"No, no, don't fight," he says calmly, arms not moving from their place as you firmly push and shove at his arms. It's as if they're made of lead and barely budge despite you putting all of the strength you can manage. "You were shivering in here, I needed to make sure that you were okay. It's cold out there now that it's fall, B-man would have my fangs if you ended up getting cold-blooded."
His voice is so familiar it aches, and turns into a thudding under your skin at the base of your skull. You've heard it before, but where?
"I'll let you go now, but don't roll off the bed. You're plugged in, and I don't want to have to reset your line again." The man slowly uncurls his arms from your middle, and pulls them out from under you before his front is gone from being flush against your back.
He gets off of the bed, and you shuffle to put yourself against the wall as Nightwing, the vigilante from Bludhaven, slides off of the bed and comes to a stopping crouch in front of your bed.
"What the fuck were you doing in my-" you swallow, and correct yourself, "the bed?"
Nightwing's expression is soft, pitying almost. "Just keeping you warm," he says slowly, palms facing up and towards you, "cold-blood is a very real condition for fledglings, like you."
"I'm human," you insist spitefully, sucking in a breath through your teeth at the flicker of frustration that passes by Nightwing's face, just a twitch of his brow and a tweak of his mouth. But you saw it. "I'm human," you repeat, softer this time, "I-I don't know why you think I'm not, but I am. I swear!"
Nightwing's face shifts back to pity, and he rocks back onto his heels and rests his hands on the bed, "but you're not," he whispers, his voice loud in the quiet of the medbay, "you're like us. I don't know who your sire is, or why they turned you and left you alone, or where you've been, but you need us. You need a sire."
You shook your head, tears of frustration starting to form in your eyes, "I'm not a Vampire! I'm human! Just like the rest of my-" you slap a hand over your mouth in horror as Nightwing's expression sharpens.
"Others?" He asks. You don't respond or give him any clarification, you have a feeling that he knows already. Batman and his gaggle of vigilantes are smart. They're detectives, trained to work out any bit of information they get. You can see the gears in Nightwing's head turning furiously as his face sets into firm neutrality.
You know what conclusion he's come to.
"Where are they?" His cutesy, playful, nature is gone and left behind is a brick wall. You shrink into yourself, hand cupped over your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise.
You should have never gone out, you should have begged someone to come along with you. To protect you. Now you were trapped with a monster.
"You can tell me," he leans forward, hand slowly moving across the bed as he reaches for you, "I won't be upset! I just want to help you." His hand brushes against the blanket and your toes curl.
Your eyes dart around the room and land on your backpack. A small coil of hope in your stomach gives you the foolish thought that maybe, just maybe, the tools you took out with you would still be there. Maybe you would have a chance.
"Hey."
Your eyes snap back to Nightwing, who shakes his head slightly, "don't even think about it. I know that you're scared, but if you do something stupid I'll have to react. I don't want to hurt you, but I will."
The stare down between the two of you lasts a few seconds longer. The eye contact is uncomfortable and settles under your skin in a way that feels like sandpaper scraping you from the inside out.
Sweat pools on your brow and your scalp, your pulse starting to beat so hard you can feel it in your fingers. You feel hot and flushed, your mouth is dry and your tongue is sticky.
Finally, Nightwing breaks his gaze. Not fully looking away from you, but at least freeing you from the hell that is this odd stare down. He reaches into a pocket on his utility belt and pulls out a small red bottle.
"It's time you stop behaving like this," he said, "I'm going to be as gentle as I can, but you need to drink."
You know what's in the bottle. You move to bolt but Nightwing is faster. He pounces on you like a wild animal and pins you down, his arm heavy on your neck. You choke and claw at his arm, but that's exactly the opening he's looking for.
With one hand he deftly pops open the bottles cork, and presses the bottle top to your lips. You try to struggle, to yank your head to the side, but Nightwing moves with a practice that tells you he's done this many, many, times.
He treats you like a misbehaving cat, softly shushing you as he tips the bottle forward and thin blood fills your mouth. You choke on it, trying to cough it out. Nightwing holds your chin steady, dropping the empty bottle next to your head.
He removes his arm from your neck and uses his other arm to gently stroke at your throat, mechanically forcing you to swallow. You moan at the taste before you can stop yourself, shaking as the blood coasts your tongue.
It's delicious.
The best thing you've ever tasted. Like a million of your favorite foods rolled into one, and it slides down your throat like mythical ambrosia. You cough out a tiny bit of the blood, and it flecks across Nightwing's face.
He's smiling, stroking your cheek and crooning as the blood settles heavy in your stomach. You can already feel your vision darkening, red gathering in the corners as your head starts to pound. Blood, your blood, wells up in your nose and up your throat and you choke as it spills out down your chin.
"I'll hurt for a bit," Nightwing whispers, patiently wiping away the blood as you writhe in agony, a gargling howl leaving your throat as your entire body is lit on fire. "It'll pass, and then we can get you your first proper meal."
He leans down and presses your lips together, swiping a tongue out and humming at the taste of your blood. You don't kiss back, you can only lay there and tremble as ice takes place of the fire. He kisses you until the ice leaves as well, and leaves you feeling empty.
It leaves you...Hungry.
Rights to the dividers goes to: @strangergraphics, @sisterucifergraphics, @cursed-carmine
If you want to be tagged in the next update, please day below. Reblog if you like, and send me an ask if you have a request!
Work was hell. Two baristas alone for 8 hours, from 7 am to 3 pm, with just. Everything. Holyyyyyyy SHIT PEOPLE!!!!!!!! I made a TALLY of how many smoothies I made today (because my cafe makes smoothies for some STUPID REASON THEYRE SO UGH) and it was 74!!!!!!!!!!!! seventy. FOUR. fucking sMOOTHIES WHAT THE FYCJJJJJJJJJ
THIS WORK WAS **NOT** WRITTEN WITH THE HELP OF AI, AND MAY NOT BE SCRAPED FOR THE TRAINING OF AI AND/OR OTHER TECHNOLOGY. TAG LIST, AND IMAGE RIGHTS ARE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE POST. Ask box is open for any questions!
For years, Gotham had been known as the city without a sun. For years, the name was mean to represent the constant haze and turbulent weather the seaside city experienced. Now, though, it meant something different.
It had been heralded with the rising of the moon, stained a bloody red and casting an eerie light across all of Gotham. Things went downhill after that. People began attacking each other, blood stained the streets more than usual. Bodies showed up completely drained of blood, with twin punctures in the neck.
Civilians who had run to the heroes of the night for help were met not with open arms and a chance at safety, but glinting teeth and a flash of a dark cape before they too were dragged down and drained of all life.
Yes, the caped crusader himself, the shadow of Gotham, the savior of the weak, had turned on his own people in order to fill his own thirst. Batman fell to the wiles of the blood moon, it was only a matter of time before the others fell as well.
Most of Gotham was silent now, shadowed in darkness now that the electricity had been cut off. High walls were erected around Gotham by the Justice League, which worked to somehow keep the devils of the night from spreading their curse across the earth.
That had been a month ago. A month of constant darkness, of past friends and family being chased down one by one and sucked dry. A lot can happen in a month, including the formation of a would-be underground Vampire-Slayer group.
A rag-tag group made up of just ten people, ten people up against an entire city of blood sucking beasts. Ten people draped in heavy leather clothing and armed with guns specially designed to hold not bullets, but wooden stakes. Ten people determined to take back Gotham, or die trying.
You weren't the leader of the group. You weren't anyone important, not brave or particularly strong, but you were special for a different reason. You were Anemic, and Vampires hated the taste of your blood. Not only did they hate the taste, they couldn't smell you like they could normal humans. You had only been bitten a handful of times-granted those times were when you were used as bait, but the Vampire's had seemed confused about you. At least they were until someone stuck a stake in their chest.
You were the one person in Gotham who could walk the streets without a care in the world. You could wear a sundress, take off that thick leather collar and bare your neck to the world and nothing would happen.
Maybe you were important, but you weren't the main character or anything. You didn't fight the Vampires, instead, you acted as a scout of sorts. Someone who could slide around in the darkness without the fear of being killed, and could find the rest of the group resources to help them all survive.
That didn't mean that you left the bunker unarmed, of course not! You left fully clothed, fully armed, and with a small bottle of blood to use as a lure. That bottle was a last ditch attempt you could use if you needed to guide the Vampire's away from the bunker. Popping the lid would release the scent, and send the Vampires into a frenzy away from their prey.
Tonight was supposed to be like any other night. You would slip out of the bunker just as the moon rose, even though it never set, and look for your next list of supplies for the group. Tonight, it was a cannibal mission.
Not cannibalizing people, of course! Rather, the few scraps of wood you could find.
You fished an old map out of your pocket, worn with time and covered in red sharpie circles and crosses of where you needed to go, and where you had already been.
You stuck your flashlight in between your teeth and cast the light down onto the map, eyes combing the worn letters with a critical eye. The main bunker was situated in the bowels of Blackgate Penitentiary, as it was designed to be as maze-like as possible. You would need to head up the road to the Paris Island, and then into the Fashion District if you wanted to make your way to where all of the wood would be; Grant Park.
There were a few sites already crossed out in red, places where you had already been and already searched clean. There was nothing left, except old bones and concrete.
You stuffed the map back into your chest pocket, taking care to fold it up exactly as it was so no more information would be lost, shouldered your pack filled with food and toiletries and water, and set out towards the bashed-open front gate of Blackgate.
The moon was high in the sky by the time you had crossed over the second bridge. The sky was clear of clouds, and you were able to see well across the decimated city that had once been your home.
You still weren't out of 'your' territory yet, as protection stretched just into the
Glass littered the cracked and broken streets. Plants had begun to slowly grow out of the ground, after the constant pesticides and pollution had stopped. The plants were peaceful, curling and coiling across the concrete and pavement. They waved gently in the cool wind, and you were careful to step over them.
While Poison Ivy hadn't been changed into a Vampire like the rest of the city, she didn't take kindly to destruction of her plants. She had taken refuge more than once in Blackgate, you had shared with her the sun lamps you recovered from a botany professors personal storage and used your little energy from the growling generator in the basement to give her as much sunlight as you could.
You had a sort of alliance with her, but that didn't mean that she would tolerate you acting a fool in her city.
The thicker vines that coiled across the street slowly peeled away as you passed the toll gate, and you carefully climbed over them murmuring thanks to Ivy along the way.
The vines shuddered under your touch, and you patted the thick plant matter gently. "Thank you, Dr. Isley," you whispered. You weren't expecting an answer, and the vines gave you none. As soon as you cleared them, they slunk back into place and settled with the creaking sounds of old wood.
Outside of your bubble of safety was the rest of Gotham. You were nervous, yes, but not necessarily scared. If you played your cards right none of the denizens of the night would ever know you were out!
Your sneakers were silent against the ground as you jogged into the open light of the moon. The moon gave you just enough light to see where you were going, with red as the backdrop and long black shadows stretching towards the rest of the city as if they were beckoning you forward.
Your jog had you passing quickly through the Fashion District, your feet padding over familiar pathways used only by you. You knew every shadow, every broken window, and every sound the dead city offered.
So, it was a shock when you just began to approach the edge of Grant Park and you saw something you hadn't seen out at night since the curse had begun; light.
It was a small light, bobbing up and down slowly. A flashlight, maybe? You took off your bag and shoved it into one of your many hiding spots, a deep hole in one of the many ancient maple trees that surrounded the park, and approached where the light was coming from in a slow and crouched stance.
There were a few voices, low and masculine, but they were too quiet for you to hear. Half of the voices were older and deeper, with a rougher tone. The other half were younger, maybe in their teens?
Why would anyone be out here? You inched closer, grimacing as the bush you were passing snagged on your coat and rattled in the night.
"Shit," you breathed, freezing in place and crouching lower. The light did not move though, aside from its rhythmic movement. It didn't get closer, and it didn't get further away. It didn't ever turn from your gaze-
This was a trap!
You rolled back onto the balls of your feet and snapped up, turning and rushing away from the edge of the park. Your teammates would just have to forgive you for coming back empty handed. You grabbed your bag, losing a few seconds too many as the overgrowth behind you exploded with action.
You fumbled for the bottle around your neck, the thin leather strap slippery in your sweaty hands. You yanked at the bottle, hoping to break the leather and chuck the bottle somewhere far out.
Your hopes were dashed to pieces as the bottle uncorked itself and spilled the stinking contents of blood all over your front just as you run into a brick wall of flesh.
"Fuck, the smell of you," a deep voice hissed, and then a nose was pressed to your throat. One hand wrapped around your middle, hugging you close to the vampire while the other had both of your hands in a deathgrip behind your back. Your head knocked back on the impact, stars dancing before your eyes at the whiplash.
You didn't even feel his teeth sinking into your neck. Blood was warm on your neck as he pulled away with a gasp, gagging on your wound. You began to struggle then, knowing that he would not be the only Vampire.
He let you go, and you staggered backwards as the Vampire furiously wiped his mouth. You began to run again, taking your alternate route back towards Blackgate.
"Hey!" The Vampire yelled, taking chase. His footsteps thundered behind you, far but not far enough. You needed to get away from him, but with the blood spilled it would be easy for every Vampire in the city to follow you back to where your teammates were waiting for you. They were counting on you, and you could not lead their death to them.
Gotham had been your home all your life, you knew the city like the back of your hand. Theorhetically, it should be easy to loose the beasts. Unfortunately, they were native as well.
You ran down the main strip of the Fashion District, heart practically behind your teeth. Blood poured down your neck, the wound was worse than a usual bite as the Vampire had torn out a small chunk of flesh when he recoiled in disgust.
You needed to get to a hiding place, and you needed to patch your wound, burn your clothes, and get back to Blackgate before the Bat came out of his hiding space and actually tried to kill you.
These dreams of finding somewhere to hide were dashed into a million pieces as a flurry of red and black soared above you to crash into the ground before you.
You skidded to a stop, slipping because your shoes had no grip, and fell on your ass as Red Robin rose from his landing crouch. His lips were pulled into a furious frown, lips and chin covered in blood- your blood- and posture drawn up.
He loomed over you, eyes gleaming behind his domino mask and teeth poking out just above his lower lip. The two of you stared at each other in a standstill. You, panting and tasting blood in the back of your throat, and him; still as a statue.
He finally moved, dropping into a crouch. You flinched back and raised your arm to protect yourself from his attack, but it never came. Instead, his hand gently grasped your arm and slowly pushed it down.
His face was still scrunched up angrily, but he seemed to be over his initial blood lust. Instead, he looked...Curious? In the way that a medical student might look over a fresh Cadaver.
"What are you?" He demanded, giving your arm a shake when you didn't speak, "answer me!"
"I'm human!" You yelped, terrified, "I'm human, I swear. I'm not-"
"Human," Red Robin scoffed, "as if. How long have you been out here for? Why the hell are you carrying around that blood! Where's your Sire?"
You stared at him, mouth agape, "what?" You laugh-gasped hysterically, "why aren't you trying to kill me?"
Red Robin reeled back at that, looking incredibly offended. "You think I would kill a Foundling?! The fact that I bit you is enough to throw me out into the sun!"
He sighed as you continued to stare at him like he had two heads. He rose up, effortlessly bringing you up with him and began to pat the dust and grime off of you. Tutting and clicking his tongue as you wriggled and protested, still fearing for your life but now utterly bamboozled. Was he trying to get your guard down? Search you for weapons? Or just cop a feel?
"Would you-ugh, stop moving!" He snapped, "I swear, I was never this fussy with B." He let go of your arms, and approached as if going to search you again, which is exactly when you struck.
Yanking a homemade smoke bomb from your pocket, your popped the pin and shoved the bomb into his hand, and began to sprint away as the thing began to spew a toxic smoke.
You covered your arm with your sleeve as you ran through the fog, hearing him cursing up a storm behind you. You didn't stop, even when you breached the fog. You could see the end of the Fashion District in front of you, a large arch that led down into the subway.
And then, like a more terrifying parody to your interaction with Red Robin, a massive dark form slammed into the ground in front of you. You stopped just in time to see the dark and tattered outline of the man you had been dreading to see all night; Batman.
