Zatanna Zatara

@sdrawkcabtiyasi​​

CLOSED

Lori was feeling more than a little sluggish that morning. Her body was cradled tight in her duvet, burrito style, and somewhere in the distance a dog was yaping. No matter how often she tossed and turned she couldn’t seem to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep. The sunshine leaked through the gap in her drapes and fell squarely on her nose as it climbed high in the sky. She shifted till her back was to the window and its intrusive light, tugging the portion of the duvet that had naughtily fallen open back over her eyes. She fully intended to settle back into a few more minutes, nay, hours of sleep. But life’s a bitch and so was her alarm clock. Two minutes later, it blared to life and yanked her back awake. Cursing into the folds of her comforter, Lori shifted, sticking an arm out of and snatching the damn thing up, preparing to fling it across the room when the sound of her door opening stopped her violent intentions. She listened with her brow wrinkled as gentle footsteps padded across the floor and to the window, where she heard the definite sound of curtains being drawn. Her eyes was quickly inundated with light, and she cringed away automatically.

“What…the…FUCK!” her voice became louder with each syllable, eventually becoming a roar. Lori was clearly not a morning person. She pushed the blankets away and leapt up, her face pinched in irritation and her stringy ink-black locks coiled in an elaborate tangle down her sides. She examined the room for the perpetrator and there she stood there, the light streaming in through the window giving her figure an angelic glow. “Zatanna FUCKING Zatara, have you lost your fucking mind,” her glare dimmed by the dispersed tendrils of hair obstructing her vision. It was one of her distinguishing traits, the foul mouth and the sharp glare, and Zatanna was getting the heat full notch. “Do you know what time it is?!” She brought the clock, still clutched in her fist, closer to her face, her eyes narrowing at the flashing green digits. “Fuck me, 9! 9 in the morning!” the tone of her voice had reached epic portions by this point, she turned the clock to face Z so she too could grasp the absurdity of the situation. 

They went through this procedure almost every morning; occasionally Lori was more subdued and simply grumbled under her breath as Z ushered her out of bed. This was how most days went. Of course, Lori was perfectly aware of the reason Z decided to cruelly wrench her from her slumbering comfort. She’d let her slack off the last few days of training, but she’d agreed to get an early start to compensate. However, between the time she verbally committed to the task and now, waking up in the wee hours of the morning, her determination had entirely dissolved and utter lethargy had sunk into her aching bones.

“I love ya Z, but if you don’t shut the curtains and exit the room in the next five seconds I’m going to knock you right onto your perfect little ass”

Zatanna had never envisioned herself becoming anyone’s mentor. These training sessions with Lori had triggered many flashbacks of her own training with her father and she hoped she was doing him proud. She could still remember his warmth and guidance when her frustration got the best of her and her temper spilled out in waves. Not that her temper was anything like the young witch’s before her. She knew she was playing with fire the moment she drew back the curtains but it was a familiar fight by now.

“It’s the time you set your alarm for.” she replied calmly, unwavering at the barrage of foul language and yelling. For someone who didn’t like mornings, Lori could sure be loud. She raised a brow as the other woman flashed the alarm clock at her before continuing to rage about the scheduled wake up call. Oh so it was going to be one of those days.

“If you’re done, I brought you breakfast.” She proceeded to walk back towards the kitchen and with a flick of her wrist, opened every window and shade within the place to let the beautiful morning light come streaming in. By the way the other was reacting you’d think she would melt in the sunlight.

“Oh and I would like to see you try. The whole point of these trainings is because you can’t do that just yet.” she flashed her a smile before picking up a to go cup of coffee and taking a sip of the warm liquid.

Accepting his steaming mug, Bruce took a tentative sip, the liquid warming him from the inside out. “I know it wasn’t out of malice, Z, don’t feel bad. You’re taking care of me, and I’m grateful.” He was painfully aware of his lack of self-care, but it would be the last thing he’d mention aloud to anyone. He stretched his arm so it rested behind Zatanna, fingertips brushing her shoulder. “I’ll try my best to listen, though I’ve been told I’m a little stubborn,” he teased.

“Bond? James Bond?” Bruce dropped his voice into a terrible English accent, quirking his brow as he made a face. “Man of Mystery?” His voice reverted back to his usual tone as he smiled, scrolling to one of the many movies featuring the man of mystery himself. “Is that so? It’s not the charming accent or sharp suit, but rather the mystery and intrigue? Good to know,” Bruce grinned as he hit play, tossing the remote to the side. “Are you cold at all? I think I’ve got a few throws tucked away somewhere.”

“I know but....” Zatanna trailed off but you could see the trouble in her light blues as she cradled the mug in her hands. Between being called freak and witch girl due to trying to help some of her classmates and battling other magic users, she had quickly resigned to never using her powers to influence those she cared about if she could help it. Controlling someone else like that was a boundary that she didn’t like to cross. “...thank you.”

Her expression quickly lightened and her brow cleared at his terrible impression, stifling a laugh. It felt good to take advantage of this moment of reprieve for the both of them. “I mean, a good suit doesn’t hurt either.” she replied with a wink before curling into his larger frame as his arm encircled her shoulders. “No, this is perfect.” she sighed as he offered her a blanket, comforted by the steady beat of his heart beneath where she rested her head.

He knew well that he wasn’t forced to walk this path alone, but he chose to whenever he could. The last thing he wanted or needed was putting someone else in harm’s way. He knew his team would come at the drop of a hat, but in a way, he felt like it was his responsibility to extract Alfred. After all, it was his fault his beloved butler was abducted in the first place.

Before Bruce could take a step toward the kitchen, Zatanna’s words had him frozen in place. Magic. His brows knitted together in frustration as he tried to move his feet, but his features softened when the magician stepped in front of him. Features softened as she placed a sweet kiss to his cheek, and he surrendered his attempt at ignoring his injuries for the time being. “Okay,” he sighed, his frame relaxing as he stepped slowly toward the living room. As much as he wanted to be upset at being manipulated so simply, he knew it was out of loving care, and not out of malice.

While he’d usually plop himself on the couch, Bruce re-learned that lesson many times over the last several weeks, and he wasn’t about to remind himself once more. He gingerly lowered himself into the edge of the couch, letting his chin fall to his chest as he gathered his breath. “Y’know, can’t say I’ve ever been put under anyone’s spell before,” he teased, turning his head to watch Zatanna’s movements from the corner of his eye. “What are you in the mood to watch? Cooking show, action movie? I might even settle for a cheesy rom-com, if you know a good one.”

Zatanna soon her way gingerly towards her ‘patient’ on the couch, gingerly balancing a plate of chocolate covered fruit and two mugs of tea. She paused as she handed him his cup, cringing slightly as he mentioned being under a spell. “I don’t like to use it on people I care for so please,” she took a seat beside him with a small smile, “listen to me next time before I have to do that, okay?”

Cradling her cup of tea, she glanced towards the television and pursed her lips as she thought over their options. “How about one of the James Bond movies? I always enjoy the whole man of mystery thing.” she suggested, cutting her eyes back to him with a smirk.

“I —” Bruce started, taking measured breaths as he reluctantly let Zatanna take on a fraction of his weight. “I didn’t call anyone. Kate was the only one that was privy to the fact that Alfred was out of harm’s way. Even so, that information was only given because I was barely holding on.” The words were bitter on his tongue, still beating himself up after allowing himself to get jumped. He was far too proud that night to call any of his kids, not wanting to have them see their adopted father in a crumpled, broken, and helpless heap. The stubborn vigilante would have certainly suffered in silence, if he would’ve had the choice. “Hmm,” Bruce hummed in his chest, lips pressing into a thin line while his brows furrowed. He despised asking for help, even in small tasks. Taking time off felt like torture, especially in a city riddled with crime. 

“Certainly we can indulge in other ways, no?” As they exited the small weight room and entered the living space, he was careful to not be overbearing as Zatanna walked alongside him, his arm draped over her shoulders. “Though, simply having you here is more than enough,” He smiled, daring to stretch his neck to place a kiss on her forehead before separating from her. “I’ll grab some ice and those berries, you wanna find a movie or something to put on?”

Zatanna pinched the bridge of her nose but kept her thoughts to herself. What was it with men that they were unable to ask for help? Like her own father wanting to take on everything himself, even when he didn’t have to. “You didn’t have to do it alone,” she offered, knowing full well that any of his adopted children would have been there in a heartbeat if it involved Alfred. She cast a furtive glance up to him as he pondered her words but she could tell that wasn’t an option in his mind. It brought endless worry on her end but she had learned long ago you couldn’t change someone when they were so set in their ways.

“I suppose...” she let slip a smile as he placed a tender kiss to her forehead, knowing even that simple motion was not easy for him right now - but it was quickly replaced with a frown as he stepped away from her. “tiaw..” she didn’t like to use her gifts on her friends but even injured Bruce had a size advantage on her - not to mention she didn’t want to accidentally hurt him anymore with a simple tug on the arm or shoulder. “I’ll get the ice and berries. I want you on the couch,” she instructed as she stood in front of him, hands on her hips in a clear sign that she wasn’t going to lose this argument. Lifting herself onto her tiptoes, in a sign of apology for using magic, she kissed his cheek with a sheepish smile.

He took a few gulps of the icy water before lowering his arm, trying his best to keep his breathing even. Though, with each exhale his body betrayed him as his breath shuddered and hitched on it’s way out. Bruce looked up at Zatanna as she offered the painkillers, taking them reluctantly before shaking a few tablets into his hand. Tossing them back, he chased them with a few more gulps of water before settling both bottles on the ground, being mindful of his healing ribs as he sat back up slowly.

“Okay, so maybe I haven’t been taking it as easy as doctor wants me to, but I am taking it easy, relatively speaking. Alfred needed someone to take care of him while he recovered, and I surely wasn’t going to bring a stranger in. Not after what happened.” I can’t lose him again. Bruce used the framing of the nearby squat rack to pull himself up to stand, his frame unconsciously slouching as he leaned lightly against the frame. “I don’t mean soft in just one sense,” he breathed, shaking his head. “I mean it mentally, emotionally, and physically.”  

I can rest when I’m dead, he swallowed, eyeing the doorway across the room, his stubbornness and pride stopping him from asking for help as he started shuffling toward the door. “Now that you’re here,” Bruce strained, trying to keep his voice from wavering. “Perhaps we could indulge in… something  whilst I ice my aching ribs. I’m certain there’s some chocolate straw—” With a sharp intake of breath, his voice stopped after he turned his torso to look at Zatanna, his face twisting in pain as his muscles protested the sudden movement. “–berries.”

Her deep blues watched him maneuver with concern as every movement seemed to cause him pain. She knew he put his life on the line quite often and his extracurriculars were quite physical but she had never seen him in this state before. Or maybe he just hadn’t allowed her to see him in this state before. “None of the boys were on hand to help?” out of all the adopted bat siblings, none of them were available to help when Alfred needed them? Or had Bruce just not asked.

Zatanna began to reach out when he made an effort to get to his feet but withdrew as he found stability in the equipment beside him. “Pushing yourself when your body needs rest won’t help you....mentally, emotionally or physically.” she pointed out back to him as she stepped aside to let him start towards the door. Stubborn. Why did she always have thing for stubborn men? “As fun as that would be, I don’t think you’re in any shape to indulge in each other’s company too much.” she interrupted as she slipped under his arm and took some of his weight on her shoulders, sending him a cheeky wink to show it was all in good fun.

It was the first time in a long time that Bruce let his guard down, and he was still paying for it, even weeks later. The relief that Alfred was safe put him in a vulnerable place, allowing the captors to beat him to a pulp before he was able to escape from their assault.

The position he lay in doing chest press reps was causing aching pain to radiate through his upper body. With every repetition, a sharp pain was layered atop the aching, causing Bruce to wince, inhaling through clenched teeth with a hiss. Zatanna’s voice pulled him back to reality, and he finished his set before sitting up. He leaned forward to place the dumbbells down and grab his water bottle, sitting up slowly as his free hand crossed his body to brace his ribs, groaning as he straightened his spine once more. “I’ve rested,” he replied in a half-lie before letting out a sigh. 

His doctor’s voice echoed in his head, ‘6 to 18 weeks, Mister Wayne. Take it easy and follow the discharge instructions, and you could be looking at a quick recovery.’ 

Bruce was never great at taking things easy, and this was no different. “It’s been weeks, Z. If I sit and rest much longer I’m going to start setting soft, losing agility and skill.”

Zatanna wasn’t going to lie, she didn’t exactly mind the view she came across when she entered the room Alfred had shown her too, but it was obvious he was hurting. Walking over to him as he took a break, she crossed her arms at his very blatant lie. “Bruce...”

She chewed on her bottom lip, snapping her fingers and a bottle of painkillers appeared in her hand and she held it out to him. “It’s been weeks of you barely resting. I doubt you were just sitting around these last couple of weeks.” A small chuckle escaped her and she stifled it quickly - she didn’t want it to seem as if she was laughing at him. “Trust me, it’ll be a long time before you go soft.”

Zatanna stood at the doorway with her arms crossed, watching the man attempt to go through his usual workout routine. Stubborn as always. She had come to see how he was doing and judging by each wince and grunt, he was doing as well as she expected. Tsking under her breath, she approached him as he finally took a water break. “Bruce. you need to rest.”

“I did not expect this kind of call, Ms. Zatara, but I’m not complaining.”

@sdrawkcabtiyasi​

Zatanna rolled her eyes as she stood still, patiently waiting for his assistance in lacing up the back of her corset. This was not a favor she would typically ask of someone she had only just become acquaintances with but she was desperate. Her usual assistant had called out sick and her show was to start soon so she was almost out of options. When she had caught sight of him in the crowd, she had darted out and pulled him backstage as she struggled to hold her top together in the process. “Can you just lace it up please?”

Maddox hummed as he danced between the shallows of the road and the curved bend of the curb. Today had gone smashingly. Kate only mildly annoyed him with her leering. Due to the lightness of her schedule, he’d lazily put a few men on the exits and entrance of the building to grab lunch. It was the small space he could circulate through the city without any suspicion. Kate’s order never changed; nor did the thoughts of poisoning her. Luckily, Maddox shooed off the irrational thought with the reminder of the bigger picture. To remain unburned in this city, he needed to stick to the squeaky image of a clean cut solider looking for his noble purpose. 

How laughable.

Crossing up the avenue, he noticed the raven haired mistress of magic fuming. For a moment, he almost didn’t recognize her without racy fishnets and top hat. Maddox observed the clumsiness of her rage. It consumed the small pieces of her posture and exploded through her fingers. It felt like she was trying to rearrange the world to fit whatever conspiracy that dampened her day. He grinned at the helplessness of it all. She held untapped power yet still seemed so naive to the nature of the world. Why did Central City seem brimmed to the top with people so wet behind the ears? Zatanna’s misstep into the intersection played out in slow motion. Before he knew what he was doing, he pushed off the curb where he stood to launch him into action. Two nimble sets of fingers grasped the inside of her forearm and dragged her into his arms. Maddox could feel the wind from the passing car pass along his cheek as turned his back to it. Zatanna almost suffered the cheapest end to her story; which only pulled from source material for his own chapter in Central City.  

“Looks like we’re fated to meet again, Ms. Zatara.” His lips moved gingerly along the cuff of her ear. His hands ensnared her frame as he shield her from the onslaught of horns and aghast expressions of the crowd. 

Zatanna thought she knew how she would react in near death moments - she had plenty of them in her short lifetime already - but she was surprised by how she just....froze. Imagine the demons and dark magi cackling to themselves as their dearest enemy almost lost the fight to a simple crosswalk like a mere mortal. What was up with her luck these days?!

She stumbled back into the strong embrace of a much taller figure, her mind momentarily flashing to a particular billionaire but then another voice broke through her assumptions and her shock. Pressing her hands into his chest to create some semblance of space between them without either falling back into traffic, she looked up to him with familiar skepticism but now it seemed to be wavering and ensnared with grains of gratitude. “...you saved me?”

Bruce cracked a smile at her quip, grin widening with each passing moment. Despite wearing the cowl and lurking in the shadows as Batman, he was certain with just a few spells, Zatanna would easily have him beat. “Now that would be a sight to see, hmm?”

He sat on the edge of the couch, pulling his phone out to scroll through nearby restaurants. “Like I said, whatever you’d like to do, I’m game.” His stomach flipped for a moment, butterflies flitting about as he wondered if this was moving forward in the way he hoped it might. “If you’d like to go out, there’s a steakhouse on main that has some remarkable reviews. Their wine list is extensive, too. Otherwise, we can grab takeout from somewhere and head back to the penthouse.”

Zatanna popped her head around the divider with a grin that matched his own. “Just don’t get on my bad side. You might think you’re too handsome to kill, but let’s not find out shall we?” She dipped back behind it before he could see the blush spreading across her cheeks. Why did teasing him affect her so much?

The sorceress debated her options as he listed them and they were all very tempting. A night out with the elusive Bruce Wayne? Plenty of women would kill for a chance like that but.... Stepping out from behind the divider dressed in boots, black leggings, a white corset and blue collared jacket, she approached him with her decision. “...could we get Chinese takeout?”

Her gentle, warm touch was something he didn’t know he needed until it happened. It had been far too long since he’d had legitimate physical contact with anyone, and he was realizing now how deprived he was. “Something’s got to change in this city. I swear, it’s slowly turning into a new Gotham, with villains seemingly around every corner.”

Eyes stared past her for a moment, rifling through thoughts as he processed her question. “I have one of Alfred’s old pocketwatches that he gave me when I turned sixteen, would that be of any help? It’s been a while since it’s been on his person.” At the mention of magic, there was a glimmer of hope—hope that they might find Alfred alive after all this time. “If not, I might have something back at my place, his room has been left untouched since that night.”

“I’ve come to find that the brighter the light, the darker the shadows appear.” Zatanna offered quietly. It wasn’t the most comforting but it was what she had learned over the years. There would always be good and evil and one always attracted the other. “There’s also more good than there has ever been.”

Her brow furrowed but she nodded slowly. “I think that will work. Items of personal value usually retain a strong connection.” She flashed him a small smile - she would keep trying as long as he wanted to.

He could feel her studying him, returning the favour. She seemed legit, or her magic did at least. What other choice do I have, though? “I need a charm to keep away spirits. There’s a… haunting situation that I’d like to stay ahead of.”

A haunting? Zatanna hadn’t dealt with a haunting in years but with the current state of the city, she wasn’t exactly surprised. “I may be able to help. What sort of spirit is it? Aggressive? Vengeful?” She didn’t want to pry but she needed details in order to help and not make it worse.

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 to hate this so called ‘Halloween’. She was starting to mentally planning in her way back home. Every houses seems well-decorate to this themed holiday. The problem is, in this darkness to find her way home, was complicated. At the least, she had her trident with herself in case something goes down. She adjusts the horn from her 'devil’ costume, and held firmly her trident, that was her real trident from Atlantis. She watched the raven-haired woman making some 'trick’ before her, and the princess stayed in awe, squinting her eyes. ❛ If you want my honest opinion… I don’t know if it’s good or bad. Also, be part of what? You’re not orange like that big plant, or fruit, nor a skeleton I see people decorating around. So, you’re a black cat with a hat! ❜ She pondering, tapping her index finger on her chin.