ladytie

[ladytie]

spider-mom meets demon-mom

now, natasha wasn't exactly known for her soft exterior, quite the opposite really. she was hardened, dark and dangerous. she could cut you down without a second thought if she deemed it necessary for her mission-- and currently, her mission? to take care of peter parker, spider-man. it had quickly become her most dangerous, yet rewarding mission to date.

and she'd be damned to let anyone take him from her.

it happened late at night, she noticed peter hadn't returned from his patrol; she had been hesitant to start patroling in gotham, but it was clear that pete needed the outlet. and she found herself giving in without even realizing it. peter, the little genius had found a way to make both of them new identity concealing suits-- he even found a way to imitate some of stark's tech. she couldn't deny him, not after that.

he was doing his first solo patrol, this city was far more dangerous than new york and she wasn't quite sure she trusted the bats. part of her wanted too, the part that missed her team, her family. but she couldn't deal out trust so easily, not when it could cause peter his life.

he had built a tenuous friendship with the young one that went by red robin, and she noticed that the blue one, nightwing often hovered close by the two. she knows that they are all related, brothers, they call one another... well, except for the big bat and the girls... the scary girl with dark hair that reminds natasha far too much of herself is deemed a sister. the blonde one, the one that crushes nat's heart in reminder of her own sister is not deemed a sister, but something close-- maybe a lover? then there's oracle, the all knowing. a human jarvis-- but not in the way vision was.

the bats had a wide range of heroes, vigilantes, whatever they called themselves. and nat and peter were on the far end of it.

as she waited for peter to return home, she felt her gut begin to churn. the hair on the back of her neck stand-- fuck, something was wrong. she knew it.

it had taken her less than a minute to fully gear up and be outside. her suit tracking peter's last known whereabouts. she'd find him. she would, sh had too, and she just kept repeating that to herself. a mantra to keep her sane, to keep her eyes from glossing and watering.

his suit was discarded, that was the first thing she noticed-- it was laid out for her. a trap, then.

"so you're the woman my beloved has grown so found of," the voice was deep, sultry and in accented english. nat didn't turn to look where the sound came in, she didn't tense. she was far too trained for that. instead, she went over the facts in her head, and let out a non-committal hum.

"where is peter?" she asked, obviously this woman knew who they were, "away" the woman replied and natasha finally turned. the woman was about what she expected, perhaps taller than assumed.

"you see that doesn't work for me... so I'll make this simple," natasha began to stalk the woman, looking her up and down-- a predator forcing another predator to be prey.

"you can give me back my son, or i'll kill yours" and it's a dangerous play, really it is. but natasha is also not an idiot, she has seen those same eyes, that same mouth on a little boy in gotham, and she can now assume who this woman's beloved is.

"no, you heroes don't have the stomach for such dramatics,'' the woman says in a bored tone, and nat lets out a loud, genuine and crazed laugh.

"it is a good thing i am no hero,"

[ladytie]

𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘦𝘬 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦.

and it’s too much— tim screws his eyes closed again, this time for a completely different reason. clark will protect them, will keep tim from hurting his family, but who will protect clark? when tim is that same disappointment he was to jack, to bruce? or tim when he’s scorned by yet another family member, or rejected by the kryptonians and gods, what would kon think of this?

his stomach churns at the thought and when he shudders a breath frost escapes, and he knows he’s made a sound undignified and pathetic.

“tim” it isn’t clark’s voice that calls to him, it’s bruce.

“tim, buddy, will you open your eyes?” and tim wants to listen, wants his dad to tell him it’s okay, to look him in his eyes and to believe him. but he can’t, he shakes his head no and slowly backs up. he hadn’t noticed he started to rely on his other senses— sound, there’s so much he can hear. he hears damien’s heart rate speeding up as bruce’s footsteps grow nearer and nearer to tim. he can hear dick shifting from foot to foot, he knows that’s his tell— he’s nervous, ready to move, to strike. the sound of leather expanding as jason curls and curls his hands, flexing and relaxing his fingers, probably itching to reach for his guns. he hadn’t even known cass was in the cave, but now he knows the steadiness of her breathing so in tune with a soft thump of her heart.

oh no no no, tim can hear himself, the panic in his breathing. he can hear his heart pounding— fast and chaotic— “i can’t i can’t i can’t” he says it like a mantra; he can’t, what? calm himself down. open his eyes. the list is endless, of things timothy drake-wayne can’t do in this moment.

but then he feels a hand on his shoulder, and it’s warm and comforting and tim knows it’s bruce. and tim is opening his eyes to confirm it— which is silly because even without enhanced senses, tim knows bruce’s touch. he knows he has tears built up, the salt water causing his blue eyes to rim red, and he knows that everyone is holding their breath— except for clark and bruce, both are there, hiding him from the prying eyes of his siblings. if he could call them that anymore.

“i didn’t know, i swear i didn’t know…not— not when, not until…” and the words die on his tongue because he’s being pulled into a hug, and it feels amazing, like the sun is engulfing him and he knows it’s clark.

“we know, tim” he promises, and it’s so heartfelt tim almost believes him, but his eyes are shifting from bruce to the others and dick didn’t believe him— he was almost certain, damien for sure as hell didn’t and jason? jason had a small smirk on his lips and gave tim a nod, and that was enough for tim to relax into the hug for a moment.

“so the interloper is another clone then?” it’s said as a hiss, a sneer, and usually tim would just let damian say what he will, but no, that didn’t make sense. and it was the wrong thing to say, because kon wasn’t just a— and tim and clark can feel one another stiffen in their tentative hold. and bruce must notice it because he sends a glare towards his youngest son, “out” he decides and damian looks confused and then defiant, “i am not leaving you here with..” he trails off, suddenly looking at tim with a calculative glare and eyes that say it all makes sense now.

but tim can’t focus on that, all he focuses on is clark’s hold and bruce’s heart beat— and then dick is standing besides clark and he’s staring down at tim, “tim?” he’s soft when he speaks but the newly discovered kryptonian can feel the nerves echoing off of him, “do you want us out?” he asks, and it’s strange. dick hasn’t spoken to tim like this in a while, and tim suddenly realizes how much he misses it.

his hand shoots out and he grips dick’s wrist— asking him to stay— but his hold is hard and desperate and strong, and dick crumbles and wrenches back and damian is yelling something at him and suddenly clark is turning to stop something from hurdling at tim and for a moment everything stops.

tim breaths in and out, in, out, and then his feet are planted on the ground and then he’s just… gone.

Clark is not the only kryptonian survivor.

Tim drake unknown to him was not only adopted but an alien as well.

But unlike Clark his powers didn’t kick in, most likely due to lack of sunlight or something.

That was all about to change, while looking for proof of Bruce being lost in time.

His powers activate whether due to having more heighten emotions or being out in the sun more.

They kick in as he was about to be stabbed in the spleen by league of spiders members.

But that’s not why they activated not to save his own skin.

He was watching his temporarily team mates being slaughtered, and that’s when red comes from his eyes and before he knew it, he was surrounded by bodies. By bodies he killed by lived he had taken.

He doesn’t have time to process this, he’s gotta save Bruce he will deal with this later.

And he doesn’t deal with that later even after saving Bruce, however the build up emotions the trauma and no one even discussing anything, the standard bat way, it all comes to light.

It starts with Bruce beginning to learn what Tim did to get him back.

Bruce being a concerned parent who can’t articulate shit properly, so when he states something in concern it comes across as the opposite more criticising.

“If I knew you were gonna join the league and become a criminal Tim I wouldn’t have left information behind for you to follow.”

Tim eyes widen, he felt anger he lost so much did so much just to get him back to only be told that.

He felt a familiar warmth come to his eyes, the same feeling he had right before he killed members of the league of spiders.

“No.”

He covers his eyes.

He doesn’t want to hurt them he doesn’t.

But Damien never misses an opportunity to attack.

“Pathetic your crying already and fathers has barely done anything, disgraceful.”

Cass is the only one who notices Tim shift in behaviour, he feels more dangerous then he should.

She’s about to make a comment when, suddenly red light comes from his hands through the small gaps, shooting out. Destroying one of the glass cases.

Everyone in the cave eyes widen, Bruce immediately gets up from the batcomputer chair, worried.

“Tim you need to calm down-“

He doesn’t get to say much more when Tim tries to shout to tell them to go away, when ice fog just comes out from his mouth.

Bruce eyebrows knitt together along with Damien, they’ve both seemed to realise something before everyone else.

“What’s happening to me?!”

Fear in his voice, Tim was panicking losing even more control then he had already, that’s when Bruce makes a split second decision and shouts.

“Clark!”

Just in time to, as red escapes Tim’a hand again about to hit Bruce but instead hits Clark’s chest.

Tim removes his hands, he knows he can’t hurt Clark. Clark will protect them from him. But as Tim stares up at Clark with fear, relief, regret and guilt.

He notices Clark stares back down at Tim with shock and hope.

And that’s my small shitty Drabble. (Grammar will be terrible lol.)

[ladytie]

I’m hoping this post will help me find my people. Fuck Donald Trump fuck Elon Musk fuck Mark Zuckerberg. Elon did a Nazi salute on main and half of this country wants to excuse it. Free Palestine free Luigi. America is a corporation.



[ladytie]

“Fatherless behavior” stop giving my DAD credit for all the work my MOM put into making me a terrible person!! Stop erasing women in history!!

[ladytie]

rosier twins

the rosier manor is a grandiose thing, ostentatious. the walls are high, to keep others out and it’s inhabitants in alike. there is something dangerous lurking within the hallways— dark and mysterious, curious and strange. the grounds are warded, against intruders, sure but also against dwellers.

the children of the rose are often blessed with sharp and delicate beauty, both of the mind and body.

it dates back generations, since the first set of rosier twins were born. a rose and her thorn. both blessed and scorned, as are all rosiers there and after.

and when a rose is ripped from the stem, leaving the thorns to carry on without her, they become a living tragedy— and isnt it sad to hear?

the wails of esdras rosier when druella is felled by the birth of a beautiful blonde baby.

esdras had never been a kind man, he had never been soft, not in the way druella had been. not in any way, really— and with her death, those sharp edges steeled. they were more than razors and instead became blades and he wielded them with unforgiving might and unyielding force.

“i hear them, dru” he whispers into the family crypt. the voices, the whispers of the fates— cursing his family for generations.

“their deaths, pandora and evan… they call out for one another in the end,” his hands are in his pockets and he is leaning against a stone wall; the cold does little to satiate the burning in his ears.

“i wonder,” his jaw is tight, and his head tilts in such a canine fashion it is hard to distinguish if he is thinking of himself or as the wolf he is, “if you saw them”

he also wonders, if he’d care. if his sister had told them he saw the deaths of his children, if he’d do anything to stop it. as it is, with just their screams echoing in his mind, there isn’t much he can do.

“my little myth is a lot like you” he tells her, and its void of emotion and fatherly love. instead, it’s a hiss with disdain and thinly veiled hatred seeping in. “and her brother” it’s less of a growl and more of a scoff, either way it conveys his disappointment,

“is no thorn”

[ladytie]

this might be a hot take but I don’t think Pandora is a copy/paste of Luna. most people characterize her as that, but I don’t think she was.

Luna grew up with her dad, she didn’t have much of a chance to know Pandora. And we’ve seen how similar Luna and xeno are, so I think it’s a fair assumption that she’s more like her dad than her mom.

what we DO know about Pandora is that she loved potions and experimenting, so personally I think she’s more of a mad scientist than people give her credit for. let Pandora do crazy experiments on Barty in the name of science, let her invent crazy and definitely illegal potions!!

that’s all I just wanted u guys to know Pandora is a psycho potioneer and I need more fics where she is !!

[ladytie]

In my humble opinion

[ladytie]

🧍‍♂️hello lilyrosekillers

[ladytie]

more of Tim Drake forcing Dick Grayson to adopt him (it wasn't much of a force, dick is a weak weak man)

of course he had said no.

dick was not in the business of acquiring young children in a crusade of vengeance. but then, well timmy had showed up during one of his patrols. he had a camera wrapped around his neck, and he was hidden well enough that dick hadn't even known he was there, not until tim decided to make himself known.

"that was awesome, mr. nightwing!" he had said with an abundance of excitement, just before remembering who he was and faulting back into that stiffness no child should have. he also must've realized he had given himself away, as his lips dropped into a little frown and his hands gripped the edges of his dark-blue, perhaps navy(?), shirt. dick saw him gulp, deep and unsure. oh no, don't do that baby bird.

to try and reassure him, nightwing gave a small smile. "timmy, what're you doing here?" he had asked, obviously. what else was he supposed to say? tim shifted from foot to foot, that same uneasiness that dick had seen in him when he didn't immediately shake his hand.

tim's hands found his camera and he lifted it slightly, "... taking pictures," he spoke in that same slow way that seemed to ponder if dick grayson was an idiot. nightwing let out a little chuckle, goodness this kid.

"i see that, i just meant why are you taking pictures" he corrected a light tone, and a hint of worry.

"i always take pictures of nightwing saturdays..." and what the fuck was dick supposed to say to that? so he didn't, he just sighed and nodded unaware of the uncertainty growing in tim's stomach.

"right," nightwing finally said, "and I'm assuming your parents don't know about this" it was obvious they weren't very attentive, and dick had meant to check up on tim and his living situation but life got busy with working on getting the gym up to code and looking less broken down and now he sees that he should've made time, or at least had bruce check it out. not that he and bruce were really talking at the moment, not since he found out about jason and bruce giving him robin, as if it were his to give away.

and dick realized he had been stuck in his own mind long enough to not hear the first half of tim's answer to his question and only cluing back in to the final half. "... and of course friday is my robin day," how that had to do with his shitty parents and their obvious neglect, dick did not know. but that unbridled joy and bit of unhinged look in his eye was the absolutely most adorable thing he had ever seen-- and did he just say he watches robin in gotham on fridays? and if saturdays were nightwing days, where the fuck did this kid live? was he travelling from city to city alone?

shit... he was going to kidnap this kid, wasn't he?

[ladytie]

Rosekiller being cute for once in their lifetime

You can be certain Evan decided he was done with other people, went to sleep on the couch, and Barty just slumped on top of him.

Anyway, it's my first post here, I don't have much more to post yet, but don't worry it'll come :]

[ladytie]

Give me Bruce and Jason, who are not on the war path anymore, but they are still awkward and absolutely clueless on how to make things up, so they pretend that they need something from each other in order to spend some time together. Even if these things are absolutely simple, and both of them could handle it themselves, if they wanted to.

Bruce, calling Jason in the random Friday night: So, Alfred left for a week. And I promised kids to do a homemade cake for them. And you know how useless I am in the kitchen. So.

Jason, who knows that Bruce is, in fact, not useless in the kitchen, but low-key misses cooking with him, because the last time they did it, it was Alfred's birthday before his death, and they did the cake together: Theoretically, I agree.

Bruce, sighing in relief: Theoretically, I will need you in Manor tomorrow in the morning. And I theoretically will pay for that.

Jason: Theoretically, see you tomorrow.

Bruce: Theoretically, thank you.

Jason, dealing Bruce in the middle of the night: Old man. Bail me out of the prison. I am in CGDP's building.

Bruce, knowing well that Jason wouldn't be caught in the first place, if he didn't want all of this to happen, and even if he did, he would easily escape without him, getting involved, but also knowing that today is anniversary of the day Bruce adopted Jason, and it is his way to spend time together: ...Okay. May I ask what did you do?

Jason: ...Stole Gordon's tires.

Bruce, stifling his laughter: I see. I will be here in a few minutes.

[ladytie]

"jegulus gets in the way of jily" "jily gets in the way of jegulus" "moonwater gets in the way of wolfstar" "bartylus gets in the way of rosekiller" "prongsfoot gets in the way of wolfstar"

they're all dead fictional characters !!! read something else if you don't like it !!!

[ladytie]

maybe I'm just obsessed with dick grayson being a protective dad,, ok?!

(this has nothing to do with my peter!in gotham fic idea)

the weather was uncharacteristically warm in Bludhaven. it made dick's skin crawl, december wasn't meant to be anything other than blissfully biting. it was a time for scarves and gloves, soft red glows to nipped noses and all of the other little niceties of christmas that dick grayson loved. and yet, here he was, with nothing but a light sweater on and a pair of dark gray sweatpants.

distracted by the uneasy feeling deep in his bones, he hadn't noticed that he was being followed. or perhaps the person following him was just too good to get caught, but either way, it wasn't until he stood in front of the beaten and broken down gymnastics gym that dick had felt the presence of someone else.

the hair stood on the back of his neck, and yet, when he turned to see who could have snuck up on the formidable nightwing he found himself even more confused... because, well, behind him was just a tiny boy-- maybe six years old? dick wasn't known to get tongue tied, quite the opposite really. but when this boy standing behind him, looking like a mini buisness-man coughed and stuck out his hand to say "Hello, Mr. Nightwing, Sir. My name is Timothy Drake, a pleasure to make your aquaintence," he blanked, his mind short circuiting with four main points.

first of all: how fucking adorable.

second of all: did he just call me Nightwing?

third of all: where the hell are this kids parents?

and finally: did he just call me Nightwing?

dick stood long enough and silent enough to make the kid uncomfortable, and he could tell because his false bravado began to falter and he shifted on his tiny little legs and slowly pulled his hand away. wait.. wait...

"Sorry kid! I was just confused as to why you'd call me Nightwing," he laughed, trying to save face. he stuck his hand out and waited for Timothy to shake it, sighing a little when the boy wiped off the suspicous look from his face and reached again, their hands touching and dick felt his heart pull at the serious look of timothy's face.

"I called you Nightwing because you are Nightwing...?" Tim spoke slowly, as if Dick needed the extra time to understand. if the situation wasn't so dire, dick would have laughed. Dick closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in.

"why don't we head inside..." he said, his palms suddenly sweating as he pulled open the door to the beaten and broken building, which had been one of bruce's many apology attempts. because money and presents solved everything, huh?

anyways, dick allowed Tim to enter first. he watched as the boy was stiff and composed in a way he wasn't sure a child should be. it made a pit form in his stomach. he wasn't working with children yet, but once he started, he'd be a mandated reporter... wouldn't he?

"alright, timmy, why don't you tell me why you think I'm Nightwing?" he asked and Tim turned his head to the side, as if that was a ridiculous question.

"because you used to be robin, but I think you got too big. mother says big boys should grow out of the habits of little boys, and that's why I can't have a nanny anymore. so you probably growed out of robin and made up Nightwing. father says all the heroes of Gotham are maded up. so now youre nightwing and jason is robin" he explained like it was something everyone knew... and dick, well dick might have actually blue screened right then and there. he nodded slowly, clearly the kid knew who he and the rest of the bats were.

something in his bruce-defiled brain screamed: MINE.

"okay... wait, you said your mother said you don't need a nanny anymore... how? wait... where? hold on" he was having a hard time computing and decided to take a deep breath.

"how old are you?" he asked, "seven" tim huffed, "and where are your parents?" dick hesitated to ask, but did nontheless. tim did not hesitate to answer, "Georgia... the country, not the state" dick nodded. "and when you say you don't have a nanny, do you have anyone who..." cares? is watching you? loving you? he trailed off before he could ask.

tim shook his head, "mrs. Mac comes by twice a week and makes food for me to heat up and she cleans the house,"

twice... a... week

"and uh... can I ask why you came to find me, Timmy?" he was stiff as he asked this and not for the first time did he feel fear of the young boys answer. but Tim brightened at this question, truly. and the large smile warmed dick in a way he did not want to think about. because he was not going to kidnap this child. maybe. no. definitely. kinda.

"Oh!" Tim began, "to be your Robin!"

[ladytie]

Dick walks through the manor door holding some groceries and finds that Tim and Jason are watching something in the living room.

Jason: Dickie come see this I’m on TV!

Dick (setting down the grocery bags): What did you do this time?

Tim: Nothing, believe it or not. They made a buzz feed unsolved about Jason’s death.

Dick: Oh really, who do they think did it? Bruce? Alfred?

Jason: You Dick face.

Dick (laughing): Me? That’s a new one.

Tim: They have some pretty compelling evidence.

Jason: Yeah you disappeared from the public eye, shortly there after Bruce “replaced” you with a young orphan. Then you started showing up more until I mysteriously disappeared. Then you didn’t show up to the funeral.

Tim: They are saying you killed him in a jealous rage, then Bruce covered it up to protect yourself and his reputation.

Jason: I’m convinced.

Dick (sitting on the back of the couch stealing Tim’s popcorn): I am too. Maybe I am the killer.

Tim: See I believe the conspiracy that Jason just didn’t want to be in the limelight anymore so he faked his death.

Jason: What about the one where I was an actor the whole time, and they “killed me off” after Bruce no longer needed the PR.

[ladytie]

[ladytie]

family game night

"Don't you fucking dare!" His voice is low, dangerous. A growl more than anything. His hands are slammed down on the table, shaking its contents. No one moves, no one says anything. Instead, they look between the two men.

"Do it, Pete. You owe him, nothing" Nat hisses, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. It was raw, unfiltered. She caught Jason's sneer from across the table. What a strange situation they have found each other in.

"Let's just think about this," Bruce, ever the pragmatic, says. His hand rests on Jason's taut shoulders. "There is a way to make everyone happy," He says, trying to ease Jason down. It's all for nothing.

Peter leans in, looking at Jason. He feels the rest of them fade away. He only can hear Natasha next to him, his mind is working quick. He has a choice to make, one that wou--

"Batman has a no kill rule, kid. Not me," Dick tenses on the other side of Jason, and Tim lets out a smooth gasp that he passes off as a chuckle.

"Please, Hood. My kill count is triple yours" Natasha speaks in that way that Peter's heard so many times, when the point has been proven and those around her just need a mind numbing reminder. He once saw Thor back away from her with a worried-for-himself expression at her single eyebrow raised.

Unfortunately, the Bats of Gotham have not learned all that she is capable. They cannot access a database that would tell them Natasha Romanoff was the deadliest Avenger. And that the Avengers had no such rule of Killing. It was the last resort, yes. But always an option. Even for Cap.

Dick Grayson's eyes widen. "You-- Kill people?" he whispers, concerned and confused. Peter scoffs at this. They keep treating Natasha as some criminal, an outsider. They talk to him in soft tones, trying to get him away from the big bad Black Widow. They don't even know that, but something about her screams danger. Peter likes it. It makes him feel safe.

He did not know that Dick Grayson's surprise from the assumptions following a recent pedigree exposed. Peter's recent pedigree. The more he looks at Peter, the more he can see the resemblances. His eyes, her color. His hair color, her texture. Both of their acrobatic builds, his height.

Before Natasha can say anything else to incriminate her, Peter makes his decision. "I've got you," She assures him, its low and honest and it warms him. He doesn't remember having a mom, Aunt May was the closest he got. And she was great, amazing. But she would always be his aunt. He wonders if this is what a mothers security feels like. If it is, he's really going to miss it when they leave this strange place, when she goes back to her own life.

"Draw four," He plays the card and leans back into the chair he was in, a smirk on his lips. One mimicked by Natasha and she plays her card next, "Draw Four,"

"Fuck!" Jason roars.

[ladytie]

more bc I cant help myself

They dont talk about it.

Dying.

Each with their own experiences, with their own trauma and fears, they keep silent in their pain. In their Death. It's easier that way. So they don't talk about it. It isn't until she's up late, checking their security systems (several rigged weapons at the front door and each and every window) when she heard the soft sounds of gasping and tears. She didn't want to pry, to invade his little bit of privacy he had in the small apartment they called theirs. But there was something about hearing his pleas, the heart wrenching call to his aunt and Tony that forced her to enter the tiny room.

It was plain in there, a sea foam blue comforter being the only spot of color against the grey walls and black frame. He was thrashing around, from her stance at the door she could see the small beads of sweat trickling from his hairline and forehead. There was something so young about him in this state. She never forgot his age, never forgot that despite the world weighing on his shoulders, he was still a child. One who despite being surrounded by adults, was never truly protected.

And that wasn't a slight against his aunt May or Happy or even Tony. From what she understood, he didn't allow them to treat him as the child he was, inserting himself in situations beyond him and sometimes, being inserted there by those he revered and respected.

But now? Now he was hers to protect.

She was on her knees besides his bed, her fingers brushing through his damp hair. "Shh little spider, it's okay," her voice was soft, in a whisper usually reserved for Yelena. She had her eyes closed, pushing thoughts away from her little sister, the one she failed to protect. She would not fail Peter.

He leaned into her touch, savoring the warmth she thinks. A reminder of Life in their death. "I can still feel it," He whispers, and she looks up to see his eyes red rimmed and on her, "My spider sense... I could feel- It was like every atom was being shredded," his voice was hoarse, and she felt her throat go dry. She continued her ministrations in his hair, brushing softly.

"Im here, Little Spider, Im here" he scooted over in his bed, making room for her. And for the first time in this new strange universe, Natasha felt a bit at home when she joined him, coaxing him back to sleep, safe and secure. And she'd keep him that way. She swore it.

"Im here," She whispered against his head, humming a Russian lullaby.