𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 ; A Shakespearean Tragedy Called Love

01

Ivar runs along the rooftops as his feet kick up leaves and dirt. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, he wasn't supposed to get caught while he was still inside the Wayne Manor.

A nagging part of him laughs at himself for his own naivety, it quieted down whenever he bit back with a taunting response of his own.

Though it was entirely his fault to not realize that Bruce Wayne would have the best security, though he really thought he'd be able to get past it. His ego getting in his way once again but how was he supposed to guess that Robin would randomly walk into the pristine office?

The look on Robin's face was worth it though, the mixture of surprise, anger and curiosity flashing across the older boy's face in a twisted dance of human emotion.

A soft painful gasp comes from Ivar as he lands awkwardly on his foot. Ivar clambers down a draining pipe and groans as his feet hit the ground, ignoring the stinging pain Ivar continues running as far as his legs could possibly take him without dropping. He wasn't sure how far he would be able to run, he just hoped that Batman would soon just give up.

He knew wishing for such things was nonsense ( but when up against Gotham's most feared vigilante can you blame him? ) but he really didn't need Batman to give up his No-Kill rule to please Bruce Wayne.

Ivar himself was a vigilante, though Batman had only heard whispers of the other's existence since Ivar kept to shadows and tailcoats while helping out the less fortunate people of Gotham who couldn't even afford a gas mask.

But with the iconic duo chasing him, dread was pooling in his gut. He could only stare at his feet as he ran down an alleyway with a broken moral compass and a bag full of green and gold. Stumbling slightly as a Batarang knicks his ear, he keeps running. Twisting and turning down different parts of the Gotham slums. 

A thick hot liquid runs down the right side of his face, causing him to stumble over his own feet while trying to not slow down. A yell from behind alerts Ivar of just how close Batman is, he could tell now that Batman hadn't meant to hit him.

Ivar had sullenly hoped that Batman was better at his job, he couldn't just go around taking chunks of kids' ears off. Even the next-door neighbour's daughter was better at throwing things than Batman and she had only recently turned six.

He runs faster, his legs racing and his blood pumping loudly in his ears at an obnoxious volume with the thought of any other body parts being detached. Suddenly, apartments lean away from each other and the close quarters open up for moonlight to shine down on Ivar.

His hair stands up in all directions as the light highlights the feature of his white eye mask, pointing out his brown eyes that constantly reflected what he was feeling inside. A young sidekick blinks rapidly to get rid of the dry feeling as he stares at his target, the moonlight perfectly capturing the moment before Ivar dashes off again around the corner.

If someone were to look out their window, facing the alleyway they might even mistake Ivar as some angelic creature sent on a mission that no one knew but him due to the way he smiled in that moment, pure joy at the thrill.

He was more like a trickster spirit if anything.

Ivar bangs his head against a wall as he makes another sharp turn and lets out a low whine as he stumbles back, clutching his head that was bleeding more than before. He lets out pained gasps for air just as someone clad in a red, green and yellow get-up crashes into him.

Sending them both hurtling back into the wall.

"Fuck!" Ivar pushes the vigilante away and continues gasping for air while leaning against the wall.