#starofgotham

“Hey, boss wanted me to remind you that you have a family dinner tonight and you’re supposed to be home by seven, sharp. Also mission reports are non optional.”

Humans are so quick to change their views. Just this morning they all called Robin a hero and now he was a villain. All because of misunderstanding. Damian didn’t even bother clearing his name. What was the point?  Damian froze in his steps when he heard those words. “Tt…I guess that is all that matters.” He says in Arabic, hoping Mar’i won’t understand 

For them to know that there are times where Terry’s job has to take priority over their relationship. If they don’t know about his identity, then they should be aware that Terry is the one that earns money for his family, and taking care of Mary and Matt is always going to be more important than kissing and dancing. If they do know about the whole Batman thing, then they should be aware that Terry saves lives and protects Neo-Gotham, and that he’s occasionally going to have to bail on them to do that.

“You’re early.”  He walked into the main area of the cave, clad in his trench coat and making sure his gloves were as tight as need be.  His belt was stocked, Maps had mission control running, and all that was left to do was throw on his mask.  “What’s on the agenda for tonight?”  He grabbed his cowl and placed it onto his face, becoming the mask.

"You’re point? Rachel hides her four eyes and darker skintone, Diana hides her scars and battle marks, Selena hides her gunshot wound where she was killed for the first time, Koriand’r always hid her bruises and marks from when she was beaten, and I hide my own scars. That doesn’t mean that they aren’t the things I find most attractive about someone.” He was a detective, though not the same kind as his father, what was hidden from the world, what no one else got to see, that was what he liked the most in anyone.

Whether it was his playfulness or his effort, something caused Mar’i’s body to start to relax, and Terry began to make a dent in her solar-powered skin. He worked it more and more, feeling the muscles give, feeling the knots roll out, feeling her melt a little more into his palms. He broke away to apply more oil to her skin, letting his fingertips glide across her back once it was reapplied. Soon enough, even the toughest parts had surrendered to his ministrations, and Mar’i’s skin was soft and supple to the touch. “There. Perfect.” he commented, less about his handiwork and more about the canvas on which he’d performed it.

He leaned himself up from his bed, using the sheets to cover himself up.  He wasn’t expecting any company.  “It’s a medical condition, not an emotional one, if that’s what everyone was worried about.”  He was out of it, so to speak, like his body was forcing itself to keep his eyes open.