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[derpu-doodles]

Can't get my mind out of those memories Now time to tell them, "Don't take my dream"

basically I was listening to P4's Heaven while drawing and my brain immediately went "lmao what if we Third Semester Akechi,"

[river-bottom-nightmare]

tim's not nervous, not exactly. nervous would be reaching out with shaking fingers to rewind the taped news footage, to make sure his eyelids hadn't grown glass shards, to make sure he wasn't looking into a mirror where his two greatest heroes were one. nervous would be picking at the skin of his nails, standing with trembling feet in front of ariana as he attempted to figure out how to tell her he'd gone and fallen in love with his other best friend, the one he trusted with his life along with his heart. nervous would be letting the red hood treat the wound on his neck in dirty back alley, ever-aware of the pain rained down upon him the last time those scarred hands were this close to his neck.

nervous was not fighting back to back with someone he was only just now realizing he trusted, enough to bare his defenses to. nervous was not feeling the confirmation of all the feelings shooting through his body that he'd always ignored, only to be given a name at last. nervous was not leaning into an arm thrown across his back, cheeks flushed for reasons tim couldn't begin to imagine, the word date deciding to burrow into his brain deeper than the universe itself. so no, he's not nervous.

but with the warm daylight taking all the worst parts of red robin and turning them into something soft and blossoming, bernard's house looked normal the porch railing was well maintained and the unfogged glass stretched across a door that tim had rarely hesitated to throw wide open in the past. tim still had a sluggishly bleeding wound on his calf, and the last time he saw bernard before their dinner, their date, bernard had loomed over him.

tim rang the doorbell and bernard opened the door and all of a sudden, tim realized he was looking down at the other boy, that those stupid sunglasses he'd wanted to yank off blonde locks every damn day for some godforsaken reason were nowhere to be seen, that his own shoulders filled out a shirt that used to be dick's but bernard was drowning in his hoodie. he almost turned around and left right then and there.

he couldn't muster up the courage to talk to steph unless the learned comfort of a domino was resting on his face and he only wandered aimlessly around the city or flopped on the edge of his bed when he wasn't thrumming with the adrenaline of another fight and swinging his fists like it was life or death, mind or madness. so who the hell gave him the idea to look bernard in the eye and tell him that tim drake wanted to date him? tim drake could barely keep a hold on robin.

except, listening to bernard's stammering and watching a grin that threatened to reach over to tim and swallow him whole, he remembered it hadn't always been like that. tim drake had always been as important as robin, if not more. tim's not sure when they fractured apart so far, he wasn't sure he could piece them back together.

stepping forward to see bernard offer him that same sly grin, tim decided it might have been when he stopped talking to this,,,,,,,,,this boy, this friend, this part of him that he'd failed to nurture. it might have been when bernard falteringly messaged him, texts getting shorter and shorter every time until they petered off completely, while tim put his phone on silent and ignored a part of him screaming at his own stupidity, his own self-destructiveness, throwing himself into his grief instead. it might have been when he stopped getting ice cream with cass after patrol, when he realized he was calling kon "superboy" in his head, when he learned to live with half of himself wasting away.

bernard had always been particularly good at dragging tim drake out hiding, though, and no one in the world could convince tim that the warm streaks of lightning electrifying him from the inside out when bernard asked him on a date was anything other than swell of an orchestra's climax, than the realization of oh.

i want that, tim said, and he didn't know when he'd let himself want things again, but he'd stay this way forever if it meant hearing bernard's breathless little laugh and seeing the hop in his step as he tugged tim into a hug more familiar than the weight of his bo staff in his hands.

~~~

this is me, desperately trying to forget what happened in ff life story because dc's giving me everything i want while marvel decided to shove their greedy little hand into my chest and rearrange my ribs till they reached my heart and just squeeze it until i'm crying. so i'm distracting myself with canon bi tim but this just turned out angsty instead. fml

currently trying to make sense of the kinda fuckin weird characterization dc's been giving tim as of late. he's probably completely in character but just doesn't line up with the version of tim i have in my head, but whatever, take some introspection. i'll write fluff and funny dialogue later.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @comics-observer @buticaaba

[alpacaparkaseok]

Mine

3. Stalk me all you want, just bring refreshments.

Genre: Yoongi x OC

Warnings: some stalking lol

Word Count: 3.1k 

We’ve made it to Paris by the time the first stalker finds me.

The past week has been spent in England popping in and out of interviews and press conferences. For the most part, it’s been pretty quiet. Granted, each interview never fails to bring up BTS, one even going so far as to pull up a quiz to see how similar I am to Suga.

I got 62%.

Sebastian demanded to take it as well. He got 43%. I still can’t tell if he was relieved or upset. Either way, things have been a little strange between us ever since that morning when he woke me up post panic attack. I can’t tell if it’s just because we’ve both got a lot of things on our minds or the fact that we’re back in civilization now, but I find myself seeking out the company of friends through phone calls and facetimes more often.

Stacey has been working nonstop to deflate the situation as much as possible. Truly, I owe her everything. She’s quick to remind me just that as I make my way to my hotel room.

“You know, this is very different from any other case I’ve had before. This fanbase is hard to get around.”

I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me from the other end of the phone. “You really have to stop referring to this as a case. It sounds like I’m some type of criminal.”

Sebastian passes me to go to his room while I fumble with my keycard. Stacey is in the middle of explaining the reasoning behind calling this a case when I finally open up the door and nearly drop the phone at the sight before me.

A girl sits on the edge of the bed, phone held up and hat low on her head. She stands up, walking over to me.

“Look who it is! Cara Richie!” For her surprised tone, I know she isn’t surprised at all. Stacey pauses on the phone as she picks up on the other voice. I remain frozen in the doorway, utterly confused. Did I get the wrong room?

Sebastian is the first one to react. “Keep your head down Car, and walk over here. Come into my room, I’ll get security.”

I do as he says, hesitating only a moment longer before turning my head down and heading down the hall. Stacey is demanding answers in my ear, but I can’t bring myself to answer her. Not as the girl is rushing out the door in an attempt to capture more footage.

“You think just because you’re a pretty face that Yoongi would be interested in you? He probably felt bad for your sorry excuse of a career and wanted to help. How do you feel about being a pity case?”

The words fling themselves at my back, but I focus on putting one step in front of the other. Sebastian is speaking quickly on the phone, motioning for me to walk faster.

“C’mon, c’mon…” He mutters under his breath, opening his door wide.

“I think you should know that this is live on Instagram. You look like a coward. Why would he like a coward like you?”

My feet refuse to move faster, my measly pace being the only thing I can manage. There’s a piece of me that really wants to turn around and give her a piece of my mind, but I know that’s the last move I should take. Not when she’s filming. Not when we’re just beginning promotions and my career is already barely hanging in there.

When I’m within arm’s reach, Sebastian grabs me and hauls me into the room. I just glimpse the dark clothing of security bursting out of the stairwell before Sebastian closes the door behind us.

“What was that?” Stacey demands to know. I watch as Sebastian scours the room, checking the bathroom and even under the covers for any unwanted visitors. Once he gives me a thumbs-up, I finally speak.

“I...I think that girl was stalking me.”

🌙

To say the least, Paris and I don’t get along well. Yes, the world-famous city of love. The irony of it all isn’t lost on me. I’m stuck in the city of love all the while trying my best to avoid crazed would-be lovers of some man I’ve only ever seen through a screen.

On the bright side, people who work for the tabloids are having a heyday. I haven’t managed to get my hands on any of the magazines they’re working for, but I do have a phone and said phone is in a constant state of buzzing and ringing.

One the down side I still have no clue how I’m supposed to make it through these promotions in one piece. A part of me hopes that BTS will step in and basically tell everyone to knock it off, but I have no way of knowing how their PR teams works. Either way, they seem to be very good at keeping things on their side very quiet while my side is barely holding the barricade.

We’re driving back from an interview when my phone rings yet again. Sebastian looks at me.

“You gonna answer that?”

Sighing, I yank my phone out of my pocket. No doubt it’s yet another nosy friend or reporter that got my number from a nosy friend.

“Oh!” I gasp. It’s an actual friend. “Bong-Cha!” I all but scream into the phone. It’s my crazy roommate from my senior year in college that convinced me to pursue another degree with her in Seoul.

“Wow, you actually sound happy to hear from me,” my friend teases.

“There’s a first time for everything. How are you?” It feels like it’s been years since we’ve last spoken.

Sebastian looks at me with a puzzled expression as I slip into Korean. I’ve never spoken it around him, but I’ve never had a reason to. In fact, it’s about time I got a call from my friend. I need to keep practicing.

“I’m...great.”

I furrow my brows as I study the Parisian streets we pass. “Are you sure about that?”

Bong-cha’s sigh carries through the phone. “Yeah, I think so. It’s just...remember when I told you before you left for the Congo that I had a really big gig coming up? Like, really big?”

The conversation we had less than a week before I left for the Congo comes back to my mind. Bong-cha and I originally went into the university to study acting. When we were both accepted to a prestigious school in Seoul she was elated and I was confused. I didn’t apply to the school. I didn’t even speak the language, why would I apply? Bong-cha took things into her own hands and filled out the application for me. It took a lot of puppy eyes and convincing, but eventually I realized that a fresh start on a new continent and even with a new language would be exactly what I needed.

The program took two years, but it only took Bong-cha six months to realize that she wanted to focus more on the music part of filming rather than the actual acting. The little punk switched programs, but we still lived together for the duration of the two years. Looking back, she made the right decision. She can weave and create a soundtrack that puts people under a spell. She even helped with the soundtrack for one of my very first indie flicks.

Thanks to her I had something of an advantage going into the world of cinema with both American and Korean acting experience. But the best part of it all was the building up a friendship that will last for decades.

“Yeah,” I come out of my walk down memory lane. Paris somehow makes me nostalgic. “What happened with that? How did it go?”

“Well, it went well...it wasn’t exactly for a movie, though.”

“What was it for, then?” I can sense the hesitation in her tone and urge her forward. “Are you releasing a mixtape or something?” We both chuckle at the notion.

“No, not that. Although I would take the world by storm if I decided to drop a mixtape. It would be pure genius.”

“Yeah, yeah. What was it for? Now you’ve made me curious.”

Another sigh. “I was working on a comeback trailer for BTS.”

My heart stutters for a moment. “You- you what?”

“I know, and I should have told you all of this-”

“Daebak!” I shout into the car, Sebastian jumping a little at my sudden exclamation. “That’s so cool, Bong-cha! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me before!”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, it is amazing, isn’t it? They’re kind of going for this intense dystopian feel and somebody recommended me to them because they’d seen ‘True Lies’, isn’t that great? I still can’t believe it.”

Bong-cha deserves every ounce of credit that comes her way, I couldn’t be happier for her. Then I remember my current situation, and the questions I’m dying to ask her are all jumping for attention. I bite them down, reminding myself that this isn’t about me.

“I told you that the soundtrack for ‘True Lies’ was perfect, didn’t I? See, you should listen to me more often.”

A half-hearted chuckle from the other end of the phone. “I guess I should. But Cara, that’s not the only reason I called. I think I may have screwed something up.”

If my heart keeps stuttering I may die. Trying not to jump to any conclusions, I struggle to keep the apprehension out of my voice. “Ok...what happened?”

“Well...I worked a lot with all the boys, they’re very hands on in the whole process.”

“Ok.”

“I especially worked a lot with Suga because he’s very talented at producing music and all that, so he had a lot of say in the overall vibe and feel of the piece. Anyways, as you can imagine, we had to spend a lot of time together and we actually became pretty good friends...”

A yellow bike is being parked in a bike rack painted with red flowers and vines. It’s outside of the kind of cafe you only see in movies, and a young woman sits by the window with a book in hand. She’s lost in thought, no longer looking down at her book but instead watching the cars as they pass by. One hand rests idly around her drink which is still full. We make eye contact for a single second before I speed by, and I know that I’ll never see her again but I can’t help but wish I was her.

If I were her I could sit there calmly, not worried about much except for not spilling my drink on my novel. I would admire the yellow bike in the rack, and think up bike routes that I could enjoy. I would pack my book in the little basket between the handlebars and I would wait for a sunny day to go out and read.

Just my bike, book, and me.

Jumping a little as we pass over a speed bump I’m ripped from my alternate reality and drink in the words that Bong-cha speaks as delicately as possible.

“...we talked a lot, and eventually I started talking about my friends. You know, pretty normal, isn’t it?  Everyone talks about their best friends. I mentioned you, of course. Explained how we lived together for however long, like what, four years? Two in the states and two in Seoul? Anyways, I was going on about you because ‘Under Nine’ has been so huge and it’s like you finally had your big break.”

Coaxing my jaw to move from its stiff position, I form a sentence. “Bong-cha, just tell me.”

There’s a two second pause before she dives back in. “He’d seen the film, said that you seemed cool. And I just started thinking about it and I thought that you two would be so cute together. And he just seems...lonely. Is that weird? And you’re always so stressed with trying to find the next big project so I just talked you up but...I- I didn’t tell him to date you or anything, I swear! I just said that you two should be friends. That’s all, I swear.”

Somehow the spike in heart rate I was expecting never comes. Instead, I almost feel  more at ease. At least I’m starting to understand how this got started. It all seemed too disconnected before, like he just picked my name out of a hat and decided to have some fun with it.

“So...do you know why he said those things in the interview? Because that wasn’t exactly a call for friendship. At least, if that’s how he meant it, he failed. Big time. And now I’m paying the price.”

I can’t keep the bite out of my voice toward the end, and Sebastian doesn’t need to be fluent in the language to understand that tone.

‘You ok?’ he mouths. I nod and roll my neck in an attempt to relax. I don’t want Bong-cha to think that I’m mad at her. If anything, I’m flattered that she even thought to act as a sponsor for me to one of the most famous rappers in the world, however misguided her intentions.

“I know. I know, trust me, I talked to him about it.”

I wasn’t expecting that. They must be pretty good friends if Bong-cha feels comfortable calling him out on this. “You did?”

She chuckles. “I know, shocking. I just feel partially responsible for all of this. Then when I saw that video in your hotel room-”

“Wait, you saw that? I thought they were able to take that down in time.”

“Well, it was live when she was filming it. So she had to stop the filming but it was already out in the world. If it makes you feel any better, most people feel bad for you. You reacted really well in the video. Didn’t even say anything. Yoongi felt horrible when-”

“Hold up, hold up.” The words tumble from my mouth before she can continue. “You’re telling me that he actually saw that? And you talked to him about all of this? What is he saying?”

“I would tell you if you would quit interrupting me.”

“Sorry.” A hint of a smile tugs at my lips, the head strong Bong-cha I know so well reappearing.

“Anyways, as I was saying he felt horrible once he saw the video. Obviously we knew that it was probably a little crazy for you, especially with interviews and stuff. But I think even the guys were surprised to hear about you having stalkers and stuff.”

“The guys as in…”

“As in the guys. Jin and Jimin and-”

“Yeah. Yep. Got it.” I’m not sure whether I should laugh or cry, so I settle for shock.

“I talked to Yoongi about it, though. They all feel horrible about it, really. I guess after I talked about you so much he got curious and started doing some research and trying to figure out who you were. You know, kind of like friend shopping.”

“Is that a thing?”

“Sure, when you’re that crazy famous it is. You have to make sure the person you want to befriend isn’t some psycho in disguise.”

I snort. “I am a psycho, though. I don’t even try to hide it.”

Bong-cha chuckles, in full agreement with me. “Trust me, I know. But I don’t know, maybe he thinks it’s endearing? I mean, look at his closest friends. Compared to the rest of the members, you’re pretty tame. They’re all nuts.”

Just from the way Bong-cha speaks about the band I can tell that she really loved spending her time working with them. It would appear they all became fast friends. I can’t say that surprises me; she’s always had a knack for making friends.

“Alright, if you say so.”

“Anyways, I guess the guys were just giving him a hard time because he was always watching your stuff. Everyone took it too far in that interview. I mean, honestly speaking, I think they want him to get a girlfriend as badly as I do, but,” she keeps chattering away as she senses my impending interruption, “they realize that this wasn’t the best way to go about everything. Trust me when I say that their agency practically skinned them alive when the interview went viral.”

I suppose it makes sense to a certain point, but there’s still one outlier in all this information. If this is purely just an innocent mistake, then why on earth would Yoongi fan the flame by inviting us to the film festival in Seoul? And publicly RSVP?

I ask Bong-cha as much, the skepticism thick in my voice. “I just don’t get it, I guess.”

Bong-cha curses on the other side, and I can practically see her rolling her eyes. “That is precisely why all of the boys have basically been in time out for the past couple of weeks. Remember when I said that the other boys want Yoongi to get moving as much as I do?”

“Yeah? I don’t follow…”

Bong-cha laughs at the situation, the sound of it only worrying me more. “That wasn’t Yoongi that invited you guys and RSVPd.”

I nearly choke at the new information. The anger I feel is red-hot. Somebody really is trying to sabotage my career, aren’t they? “W-who? Who would do that? Why haven’t they said anything about that? Clearly someone is trying to ruin my career, and possibly his as well. Wouldn’t BigHit do someth-”

“Hey! Listen to me you psycho!” Bong-cha yells through the phone, barely able to get me to shut up for more than two seconds. “Are you even listening to me at all? I just said that the others are pushing for you and Yoongi, too. Nobody is trying to destroy your career.” She pauses, and for once I don’t interrupt her. Instead I wait with bated breath for her to continue. “You should have seen Yoongi’s face when Jin told him what he did.”

Jin? Kim Seokjin? What did he do?

“What do you mean? What did Jin do?”

A sigh of long-suffering. “He’s the one that invited you guys. And made sure Yoongi would have to be there to face you by publicly RSVPing him. Got it?”

“Why would he do that?” I ask myself the question more than anything. Bong-cha still responds though, the smirk evident in her tone.

“You’ll just have to ask him in person when you get here, won’t you? Make sure you save me a seat. I want to be there for this.”

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taglist: @taylorroe3 @eusticenatalie @agustneeds @oceandeep​

[elyreywrites]

when i’m like this you’re the one i trust

a huge thank you to my fellow brainstormers: Aque and Mizuphae, my betas: robinlikeitshot and kitcat, and my friend for introducing me to my favorite dick/tim song, which is also where the title is from!!

title is from The Weeknd’s “Blinding Lights”!

please REBLOG - DO NOT REPOST

AO3 Link

Teen 3,107 words Dick Grayson/Tim Drake

Summary:

“You died,” he tried to snap, to hopefully push Dick away, but his voice broke. “You—you fell, and I couldn’t catch you in time.”

- - - - -

Tim reached out, someone was screaming – was it him? – but Dick was still falling and falling and where was his grapple! Dick reached back for him but— he was too far, too far, too far!

“Dick!” He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even close his eyes as Dick hit the broken concrete with a resounding crack. He watched every second, the sight forever seared in his mind.

The world shifted around him and he found himself in the Cave. Tim didn’t know how he’d gotten there and he didn’t care, Dick was dead and—

“My son’s body is on that table because of you,” Bruce growled. “Jason would have caught him. Damian would have caught him. And he’s caught you before. I knew from the start you would never be as worthy of the Robin title, never as good as them. If I had known it would get my son killed, you never would have become Robin.”

Jason scoffed, sprawled over in the chair by Di—the body. “Shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone close to him gets killed. He got his own dad killed, why not his boyfriend too while he’s at it?”

Damian snarled, tears running down his face, and leapt forward with a knife in hand—

“TIM!”

Tim jolted up, grabbing his attacker’s arm and pinning them to the floor before wrenching their shoulder up and—

The person under him sucked in a sharp breath as they hit the ground. When they spoke, their voice was strained. “Timmy, baby bird, it’s just me, Dick. Sweetheart, you were having a nightmare. I shouldn’t have shaken you awake, but, baby, you weren’t waking up. Come on, Timmy, you’re safe. You’re safe, I’m safe, can you let me up now, sweetheart? We’re okay, but I need you to let me up.”

Dick. A distressed keen slipped from Tim as he threw himself backwards, as far away from Dick as he could get. He’d killed-hurt-maimed him, it was all his fault, oh god. His eyes were glued to the bruise on Dick’s arm as he sat up and gingerly held it close to his chest. Tim did that.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I—I’m sorry, Dick, I’m so, so sorry. Oh god. I should—I need to go, you – everyone will be safer, I have to—I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I did my best but—I know I was never good enough, never should’ve been Robin, Dick, I’m so sorry.”

Scrambling to the window, his fingers clawed uselessly at the latch, shaking too much to actually do any good. There was a shout from behind him before an arm was wrapping around his waist and hauling him back until they both collapsed on the bed together. Tim thrashed – he had to get away, before he could hurt Dick again or get him killed, for real this time.

A strained grunt made him freeze. Just like that, he thought, nearly hysterical. God, how fucking worthless could he get? He couldn’t even stop injuring his own goddamn boyfriend—

A kiss was pressed to the side of his head and Dick started whispering to him. “Hey, Timmy, just calm down, okay? My shoulder’s just a bit sore and you knocked it, that’s all. I’m alright, I promise. Breathe, baby, come on.”

The stream of soft, comforting words didn’t stop even as Tim shakily gulped in air, breath catching on half-formed sobs. When he had calmed down, Dick shifted them to be side-by-side, his good arm still wrapped around Tim, just tight enough that he knew Dick wouldn’t let him leave. Tim kept his gaze locked on the wall. The image of Dick’s body lying broken over cement was still bouncing around in his head, and he needed to hold on to that image, needed to remember what he did to the people close to them.

“Come on, you know the rule, baby bird. If you have a nightmare, then you have to talk about it. And you were the one who made that rule, Timmy,” Dick teased gently.

And Tim couldn’t be a hypocrite on this. On a lot of other things, sure, but… not on this. “You died,” he tried to snap, to hopefully push Dick away, but his voice broke. “You—you fell, and I couldn’t catch you in time, and Bruce and Jason were right. It was all my fault, I got you killed just like I get everyone close to me killed, and I never should have been Robin in the first place! I knew—I knew I would never be as good as you or Jason, or now even Damian. I just—I hoped that I’d been enough, but I wasn’t, and they were right! You caught me and I couldn’t even catch you!” Tim bit his lip hard before he could start crying again.

Dick was silent for a long moment, taking one deep breath after another. “Okay. So. Okay, there’s a lot to unpack there, but first of all: Tim, baby bird, sweetheart… I don’t know how many nightmares I’ve had where I fail to catch you. I think I had that nightmare for a solid month and a half afterwards. Some nights it’s so real that I wake up absolutely convinced that’s what happened. I know I worried Alfred with how often I jumped out of bed to immediately review the footage of that night, just so I could see myself carry you in, beat to hell but alive.”

He pulled Tim into his lap, rested his chin on Tim’s shoulder, and continued, “So, when I say that it absolutely is not your fault, please…” Dick absentmindedly brushed a strand of hair out of Tim’s face, tucking it behind his ear. “Trust that I know what I’m talking about? You don’t get everyone close to you killed. It’s just that most of the people close to you live the same dangerous lives that we do, and terrible things tend to happen to us.”

“As for being Robin…” Dick huffed, a sound that was almost a sad laugh. “Jason wasn’t the same kind of Robin that I was, and you weren’t like either of us. Now Damian isn’t like any of us. We were all Robin, but we were all Robin in our own unique, amazing ways. And you were, Tim. Amazing. You were an excellent Robin, and I will say it as many times as you need to hear it, and then some. I know you aren’t likely to believe me because of how I handled things while Bruce was gone.” He sighed, clutching him just a little bit tighter as he said, “I will fully admit that I fucked up with you. There were so many other things I could have done instead, but that’s on me. You were everything a Tim-Robin needed to be. Bruce and I… I don’t think we could ever regret having you as Robin, except for all the pain you’ve suffered because of it.”

Tim broke with a harsh sob, still not able to forget Dick’s fall. “I—I can’t stop seeing it. Dick, I—”

Dick moved them again so that they were facing each other. “Come on, look at me. I know you haven’t, don’t think I didn’t notice that, Timmy. But I’m right here, alive. You just have to look at me, not at the wall. There we go, see? I’m okay.” He offered Tim a small, sad smile.

Tim lurched forward, burying his face in Dick’s neck, and curling around him as tight as he dared. “I’ve mourned so many people,” he whispered thickly. “Even if most of them came back, I can’t—I can’t lose you too.”

“I can’t promise that you won’t,” Dick said after a moment’s pause. “Our lives don’t allow for that. But I swear, as long as I’m alive, I’ll be here for you. Come on, it’s still only one in the morning. Let’s try to get some more sleep, alright? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Dick tugged Tim into curling up against his side – the uninjured side – and murmured words of comfort that gradually slurred more and more until Dick finally dropped off to sleep.

Tim waited an extra ten minutes before he slipped out of Dick’s arms. He couldn’t stay. Dick would only keep getting hurt until Tim eventually got him killed, just like he ended up getting everyone close to him killed. It didn’t take very long to grab the things that he cared about that were solely his and pack them into his car. The one thing he hesitated on, though, was his box of photographs. If he was going to leave Dick to keep him safe, he needed to leave all of it behind. Dick, the Bats, the vigilante life. The first step would be to let his beginning, his past, go. And that meant he had to leave the photos behind.

Before he left, though, there were two more people he needed to talk to – even if they couldn’t talk back.

- - - - -

The realization wasn’t immediate when he woke up. He was aware that something felt off, but Dick wasn’t sure what it was. Being a vigilante meant that he stayed limp, acting as if he were still asleep and reaching for Tim just as he would have if he were still asleep. If he could subtly wake Tim up, they might be able to—

Tim wasn’t there. Aaand, Dick had found the problem. He shot up, immediately looking for signs of kidnapping – could Ra’s please stop trying to snatch his boyfriend? – or for Tim to be sitting somewhere with his laptop like he usually did when he couldn’t sleep. Instead, he found a room that was emptier than when he went to sleep. Most of Tim’s stuff was gone. After the conversation they had before going back to bed, Dick really doubted that was a good sign.

His eyes caught on a box still on one of the designated Tim-shelves. Tim’s photos. He wanted to take it as a sign that Tim would come back – because he wouldn’t leave those behind for good, right? – but Dick didn’t want to risk it either. He’d let Tim go once before, expecting him to come back until Tim didn’t. He wasn’t making that mistake again.

Babs wouldn’t be pleased by Dick waking her up, but he reasoned that she would be even less pleased if he lost Tim when they had just gotten him back not too long ago. So he called.

Two rings later, she answered. “Someone better be dying if you’re waking me up at… 3:30 in the morning for this.”

“Something happened. Tim thinks that just by knowing him people get hurt, and he decided to leave after I fell asleep. He’s missing and I need your help to find him before he gets too far. Babs, he took nearly all his things.”

There was a long moment of silence on the other end of the line. Then, “Shit. Alright, while I get to my computer, tell me what you can about a timeframe, and I’ll try to find him on a security camera.”

“You already know we both had the night off tonight, so we actually went to bed pretty early,” Dick started explaining. “But then he had a nightmare and woke up sometime before one o’clock. By the time I got him calmed down enough to get some more sleep, it was about one. I was still awake until maybe 1:30, then I crashed. He must have still been awake and snuck out after that, but it would’ve taken some time to load up his car, especially if he was trying not to wake me up.”

Barbara hummed, the clacking of keys in the background. “Alright,” she said, “That gives two hours to work back through, but that shouldn’t take too long sped up. Once I see Tim’s car in its normal spot, I can work forwards more slowly until we’ve got a better idea of when he left. Then I can follow him on the cams. I’ll call back once I have something.”

Dick sagged in relief as she hung up. Babs would find him, with the Bats’ extensive camera coverage of Gotham at her fingertips. A half-hearted laugh slipped out; it was Tim’s own suggestion many years ago to increase the video surveillance over Gotham. Now, it was working against him.

In all fairness, Tim probably thought Dick would stay asleep long enough for him to get too far and disappear completely, but Dick didn’t want to think about that.

He jumped up and hurried to get ready, throwing on warm clothes and bundling up because it was late October in New Jersey, 3:30 in the morning. It was pretty damn cold out, and Tim sometimes forgot to actually put a jacket on, the spleenless idiot. He’d have grabbed Tim one too, just in case, if Tim hadn’t already taken all his. All Dick could do was hope he’d actually put one on.

By the time he was ready to go, he heard his text tone for Babs, hopefully with a location.

[He’s at the cemetery where his parents were buried. I’ll call if he leaves before you get there.]

“Oh, Timmy,” Dick sighed. His chest ached knowing that Tim was visiting his parents’ graves, something he almost never did. He snatched up his keys and headed out. He had a boyfriend to retrieve.

When he got there, Tim’s car was still parked outside the cemetery, packed just as he’d expected. Tim had really been prepared to just drive off and disappear for good. He made his way through the rows of graves silently, soon spotting Tim in the distance. He was curled up against Jack’s gravestone in a t-shirt and jeans. As he got closer, Dick could hear him talking to his parents, and his heart hurt at the words slipping from Tim.

With a quiet sigh, he tugged his jacket off and draped it over his shivering boyfriend. Tim’s rambling stopped abruptly as he looked up at Dick.

- - - - -

Updating his parents on everything took some time, but he had needed to get it off his chest. But now that he’d gotten to what he had really wanted to ask, he hesitated. “Did… did you guys know?” he finally whispered. “Is this why you were always leaving me, because somehow you knew what I do to the people I get close to? Did you leave to try to stay safe from me?”

He choked out a sharp, bitter laugh, and looked down at his fingers weaving through the weeds. “It didn’t work in the end, did it? You’re still dead and… how can that not be, like, my curse? I get people hurt and killed, that’s… that’s all there is to it, really. I got you both killed, just like I got so many people killed already. Just like I’ll get so many more—”

He cut himself off as a jacket – Dick’s jacket – was dropped on him, head snapping up to find Dick watching him sadly. He settled beside Tim, snaking his arms around his waist to pull him closer.

“Baby bird,” Dick murmured, “you’ve got to take better care of yourself, especially without your spleen. You know this.”

Looking away, Tim could only shrug. “Forgot to,” he mumbled. He climbed to his feet, tossing the jacket at Dick, and began weaving back through the graves to his car.

Dick caught up to him quickly. He draped the jacket over Tim’s shoulders again and wrapped his arm around him for good measure.

“Let go already. I’m leaving and you can’t fucking stop me,” Tim snapped, pulling away.

Dick hummed. “We’ll see.”

“What the hell does that mean?!”

“It means,” Dick drawled, holding up a set of keys with a distinctive dice keychain, “that I’m the one with your keys.”

“Dick! Why do you even care?!” Tim yelled. He tried to grab his keys, only for Dick to hold them out of his reach.

Stopping in his tracks, Dick swung Tim around in front of him and stared at him with a hard expression. “I can’t believe you actually just asked me that, but I’ll leave it be because you’ve had a bit of a rough night. I care because I fucking love you, Tim.”

Tim couldn’t help the way his shoulders curled in, or how he looked away.

“Hey,” Dick whispered. A hand on his cheek turned him back towards his boyfriend. “Tim, I let you go once. I let you run off and I didn’t go after you like I should have. I’m not making that mistake again. If you really have to leave you can, but I can’t imagine not coming with you, sweetheart. If you run… I will be right behind you unless you tell me that you truly don’t want me anymore.”

A raspy chuckle slipped out against Tim’s will. “You aren’t exactly Nick Parker, and I’m no Elizabeth James,” he murmured.

That drew a small laugh, as Dick wiped away Tim’s tears that he hadn’t realized were falling. “You can’t distract me with ‘Parent Trap’ references, Timmy. I’m serious. If you need to leave Gotham, I’ll be right there with you. I’m not letting you run off alone with some dumb idea that you’re protecting me.”

“Yeah,” Tim sighed. He leaned into Dick’s touch and squeezed the hand Dick still held. “I’m starting to get that.”

“Great! Then you are going to get back in your car and drive straight home. When you get there, I want you to bundle up in blankets and put a Studio Ghibli movie in.”

Tim stopped mid-reach for his keys. “And what, exactly, are you planning on doing, if you’re not following me back?”

Dick dropped Tim’s keys in his hand and winked. “I’m going to swing by a 24-hour diner for pancakes, and then I’m coming home to snuggle up with you and watch movies. We’re both taking tomorrow off. And,” the grin gave way to a Bat-glare, “if you aren’t home by the time I get there, I’m calling in the entire superhero community to hunt you down.”

“Okay, okay,” Tim laughed lightly. “I get it. I’ll be there.”

“Good!” Dick pecked the cold tip of his nose. “Head home, baby bird, and… please, don’t try to leave again, unless it’s what you really want?”

Tim pulled Dick down into a full, chaste kiss. “I’ll try not to,” he murmured. “See you at home.”

“Go get warmed up, sweetheart,” Dick said, pushing him towards his car. He had some pancakes to pick up.

[becomewings]

Sea

BTS Universe Elemental Series : Water

“There is something about the sea that makes me well up with emotions. ...

The next minute, we were all looking out onto the sea and shouting our dreams. … Each of us cried out a story that would never reach any destination. … All of my senses came alive. The others' voices became entangled and formed an intricate web with the somewhat fishy but refreshing scent of the sea and the strong breeze winding round my fingers. Before I knew it, I was screaming out onto the sea. Amidst the thundering drilling sound, I couldn't hear what my dream was.”

— JungKook, 12 June Year 19. The Notes 1.

〰〰〰꩜〰〰〰

“Beyond them was the sea, and above the sea was the sun. The entire scene looked like a still frame. …

We’d all met again, sprung JiMin from the hospital, and returned to this same beach. It was all unplanned. ...

‘It was June 12.’ I remembered it exactly because the photo we had taken on this beach was marked with the date. I sometimes took it out and stared at it. I didn’t tell anyone, but I felt on that long-ago day that I had finally found a real family. Real brothers.”

— JungKook, 22 May Year 22. The Notes 1.

〰〰〰꩜〰〰〰

“After returning from the sea, we went back to our solitary lives.”

— SeokJin, 13 June Year 22. The Notes 1.

〰〰〰꩜〰〰〰

I’ve been feeling pretty discouraged lately, especially after witnessing in real-time how much greater the reception is for new/topical content compared to older/more comprehensive content like this blog (this was within my own content on different blogs, to be clear!). It feels like an uphill battle sometimes, so I am deeply appreciative of all of you who have shared my works, and especially to those of you who also sent in supportive messages recently. I’m not giving up yet. Thank you for joining me on this journey. ♡

This is the first entry in a multi-part Elemental series, which will in turn be broken down into several subseries (Water, Fire, etc.). I know my most recent post featured a lot of sea imagery and I do usually try to space out similar themes, but this felt like a good place to start!

A little behind-the-scenes peek at my process (and inevitable misadventures), if you’re curious... I’ve been steadily compiling screenshots from every BTS Universe MV to help myself organize and plan themes, but I still have a few to go. I knew there was a shot, somewhere, with a rippling effect over the boys by the car at the sea. However, I didn’t have a screenshot of it in any of my folders, and after skimming the list of videos I was convinced that I must have missed it from one I’d already completed. As I skimmed through older MVs and it failed to turn up, I began to wonder if I’d made it up. While seriously contemplating that I’d lost my mind, I happened to check Epiphany, one of the MVs I have not captured yet, and... lo and behold, there it was at the end. Serves me right for procrastinating on the capturing. :’) I decided to splice that clip together with the original appearance of that scene/footage from the Prologue because I was already making tough choices while paring down to 10 images. It’s a little grainy, but I spent a ridiculous amount of time working on the first spliced version, scrapping it because I wasn’t happy with the alignment, redoing it from scratch with better scaling between the two, and creating the crossfade. All for just 1/10th of this set!

As I’m focusing more on gifs now and have learned very basic coloring with some practice sets on my side blog, I do want to state that I am (currently) making the decision not to color these BTS Universe sets, aside from small level edits and contrast boosting so the gifs turn out a little cleaner. I recognize that this is not the most aesthetically pleasing choice and that most creators harmonize color palettes when compiling sets from multiple videos. It is my personal intention on this blog, however, to represent the selections as close to their original versions as possible. This better demonstrates how the aesthetics and artistic decisions of the MVs themselves have developed over the lifetime of BTS Universe. Also, despite the lack of color alterations on my part, I do try my best to achieve a composition that is both narratively and visually cohesive, striking a balance between story and art. (I don’t know if anyone has caught onto me yet, but I quite enjoy “reflections” in my image layouts.) And of course, this doesn’t take into consideration all the time I spend gathering the Notes quotes and planning out whether they are more appropriate as captions or in the body text.

Anyway, if you think that I’m making a terrible decision, please feel free to yell at me in my ask box. Or if you have something nice to say, you can yell that in there too. ♡

I Need U (Original Ver.) [1] HYYH On Stage: Prologue [2-5] Epiphany Comeback Trailer [3] Run [6] Love Yourself Highlight Reel '起承轉結' [7] Euphoria : Theme of Love Yourself 起 Wonder [8-10]

[ohthatsviolet]

Liar, Liar - Cryptane

(1,721 words. Ao3 link will be in the RBs as usual). 

Octavio knew him as Hyeon Kim, and he was fine with that...until he wasn’t. 

He wasn't expecting to get attached. He wasn't attached. Not really. It was just a way to pass the time. Octane liked to talk a lot, and Tae Joon tended to like that in people, because it meant he didn't have to. He introduced himself as Octavio Silva, but he was positive that he "would have already known that," because he "was probably the most famous person here." The hacker did already know who he was, but not for the reasons Octavio thought. It wasn't difficult to do a little snooping on the Legends, to see who might be the best asset to him if he was forced to align himself with some of them, to keep up the facade that he was just a regular competitor like the rest of them. Octavio made it almost too easy, seeming to enjoy posting most of his life on social media. 

"You shouldn't post so many personal details about yourself online," Tae Joon had told him, only to receive an obnoxious snort in response. 

The speedster's attention was focused on the Rubik's cube in his hands, while he lay back in his beanbag chair. 

"Whatever, amigo. No one has tried to kidnap me yet." 

Conversation with Octavio seemed to always come easily. He liked to talk about himself. 

"Do you like puzzles?" he asked, listening to the quiet clicking of the plastic as the runner rotated it in his hands, failing to get the coloured squares into a desirable pattern. 

The younger legend signed somewhat dramatically, and tossed the cube over his shoulder, hitting it against the wall with a dull thud. 

"No. I fucking hate them." 

The corner of Tae Joon's lip curled into a small smile, at the remark. It seemed to happen a lot around Octavio. It was difficult to not find him amusing. 

He wasn't expecting for them to continue spending time together like this. The only reason they'd gotten talking in the first place was because Octavio was having issues with his computer and the hacker had simply gotten tired of listening to him complain about it, so he decided to help him out. The speedster's desk was a mess; covered in candy wrappers, empty energy drink cans and crumbs. It was pretty gross if he was honest, but as his eyes traveled over the small piles of trash he spotted a figurine of a character he instantly recognised from one of his childhood favourite video games. He couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch it. It wasn't possible that Octavio was a fan of this franchise. It would be far too obscure for someone like him. Right? 

"Careful, compadre," the runner warned, glancing up from his phone. "That's signed by the developers. You break that, I break you." 

Tae Joon turned the statue over in his hands, checking the underside of the base. A cocktail of childlike excitement and jealousy pooled in his stomach. He wasn't lying, it was definitely signed. Holy shit. 

"You're a fan?" the hacker asked, feigning nonchalance. 

"Yeah, dude. That's like...only the best RPG I've ever played." 

"My sister used to make fun of me for liking it," Tae Joon continued, with a small laugh. "She used to say it was only for 'mega nerds'."

"I could never keep up with all the lore," Octavio admitted, shoving his phone into his pocket, fully engaged in the conversation now. "But I heard there was a really cool story part that was only available in the co-op mode. I never got to play it myself, so I had to watch videos on it." 

"Really?! I...never knew that. Now I wish I convinced her to play it." 

The space between them fell silent, but Tae Joon noticed the way Octavio looked him up and down as if he was doing some sort of appraisal. He shouldn't have mentioned his family. That look made him feel paranoid, and that maybe he should consider leaving soon, until the runner spoke up. 

"I...probably still have my copy lying around somewhere," he began, fidgeting with a loose thread on his shorts. "If you wanna try it sometime. None of my friends liked it either." 

Despite his better judgement telling him not to, he agreed to play through the co-op campaign with him, and it ended up being more pleasant than he thought it would be. Octavio was actually pretty good at the game, and seemed to appreciate him pausing at certain points to explain the plot points he found confusing. They would meet up most nights to play, and these hangouts continued even after they'd completed the game a few times on different difficulties. It turned out Octavio had lied about his friends not liking the game, and the truth was he barely had any friends growing up; something he'd confided in him after their first few sessions. It was something Tae Joon could relate to, especially around here. He wouldn't consider any of the Legends his friends. Except Octavio of course. Were they...friends? Octavio had begun to confide in him, but due to the position he was in, he couldn't really do the same. The speedster told him short stories from his childhood and teenage years which, if Tae Joon was honest, sounded very sad and lonely. Part of him wanted to share similar stories to perhaps comfort the speedster a bit, but as soon as he opened his mouth to begin, he stopped. It was too dangerous to share too much, especially with someone who shared so much of themselves with the entire Outlands. He felt conflicted, though he knew he shouldn't. 

"Hyeon, man! Come on!" 

The call of that name snapped him from his thoughts, and he realised he was still lingering near the entrance to Octavio's room. Sometimes he still managed to forget this was his name now, or at least what some of the people around here knew him as. He didn't mind normally, but hearing that name come from Octavio's mouth made something in his chest shift uncomfortably. Tae Joon tried to shake it off, quickly finding his way to the small sofa that the runner was already making himself comfortable on. 

"Did you finally manage to pick a movie?" 

"Yup!" Octavio replied, taking the opportunity to remove his prosthetics, allowing them to collapse to the floor with a clatter. 

Tae Joon looked him up and down, observing how he rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. 

"Pain?" 

The speedster seemed to think about his answer before responding. 

"Nah. It's not too bad today." 

"Good." 

"Thanks for...not telling Ajay about it," Octavio continued, turning to face him more directly. "She'd just...overreact. And it's not a big deal."

The hacker merely nodded casually in response, but as Octavio began to play the movie, he couldn't quite focus on the plot. He was suddenly overwhelmed by an intense feeling of guilt. How could he continue living like this? They'd been spending time together for a while now, and Octavio knew almost nothing about him; anything he did know was a fake or vague answer he'd given him to get him off his back. He wanted to tell him things. He wanted to tell Octavio how he grew up, his favourite food, and take him to his favourite hangout spots before his life got turned upside down. He wanted to tell him how he couldn't sleep at night, how he missed his family dearly and how he always wanted a pet cat. He wanted to tell him that the time he spent with him was the only time he'd felt the slightest bit happy or normal in years. Fuck, he just wanted to tell him his real name. But he couldn't. He couldn't risk everything he'd worked for. He couldn't risk losing whatever this relationship with Octavio was becoming. 

Why was he thinking so much about all this? He kept trying to tell himself, the moments he spent with Octavio was just a way to pass the time. He kept trying to tell himself that he didn't care about him. But he did. And it hurt. Tae Joon stared at his bedroom ceiling that night, thinking back on the evening they shared. Octavio made things feel easy, even if it was just for a few hours. Would everything become easier if he just told him the truth? He shut his eyes tightly, trying to force the intrusive thoughts from his mind. He felt like he was going crazy. How could he ever consider telling Octavio who he really was and what he was really trying to achieve by being in the games? He remembers watching the footage of the Repulsor tower collapsing and how Octane had almost been crushed to death in the chaos. It didn't matter much to him back then; one less Legend was one less person to stand in his way. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking back on it now. How could he ever have felt that way about Octane - about Octavio? He wasn't disposable, though part of the hacker was beginning to wish he was, because it would make it easier to get him out of his head. How was it becoming possible, that he cared more about being rejected by him, than he did about being exposed, if he came clean? He could be thrown in jail, framed for more crimes he didn't commit, or worse. And somehow that didn't compare to the possibility of never seeing Octavio's scarred lips smile again, or the apples his freckled cheeks when he laughed. Tae Joon hated feeling this way, he was usually so focused but now his attention was being directed elsewhere. He wanted to hate Octavio for this, but he couldn't help but smile, his stomach fluttering, when he received a text from the runner, sending him a screenshot of a movie synopsis asking him if he'd be interested in watching that one next. Tae Joon fell back against his pillow, with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes with the balls of his hands. He could keep lying if it meant they could spend time together. 

It didn't matter who he was; Tae Joon Park, Hyeon Kim or Crypto. When it came to Octavio Silva, all three of them were thoroughly, thoroughly fucked. 

[ruffiorocks]

She Ra! This show was amazing! (Long post)

Omg! I stayed up until 4.00am to binge watch the last season of She Ra. I'm gutted that before I put it on I opened Twitter for a second and the Catradora kiss was ruined for me! 😞

But what a bloody season! What a show! I grew up watching the original She Ra and the original He Man. Mine and brothers favourite movie was "The Secret of the Sword" (the He Man and She Ra film where she is first introduced). That show was brilliant for its day, it depicted strong women who didn't need men to save them. Plus She Ra was so much better than He Man, she could heal people, talk to animals and turn her sword into anything she liked! She also had a flying unicorn that could talk! What else could a girl want in a show?

When I heard this was going to be revived I was a bit apprehensive, especially after the failed He Man reboot and the failed Thunder Cats one. (Dont even get me started on that monstrosity they call a reboot! At least the anime version was cool).

I decided to give the show a watch, convincing myself that is was for nostalgic purposes only, and wow! I could not stop watching it!

This version is great, because it wasn't trying to be the same as the original. The basic premise was the same but the story and the characters were fleshed out so much more. The relationships between the characters was just something else. I loved how they de-aged them, so it was teenagers and not adults this time.

Making Adora and Catra best friends? I loved it! The fact that this friendship/enemies story between the two became the heart of this show was something else. The original series had Catra being jealous of Adora and becoming a force Captain after Adora left but that was the extent of their relationship.

I love how Hordak wasn't even all the fussed about conquering Etheria. He had so much more depth to him than the original one did. OG Hordak was a bumbling idiot who laughed evilly and could turn himself into rockets and canons. The most interesting thing about him was he used to be Skeletors mentor. The very idea or Hordak caring for anything or anyone other than imp was unthinkable. This Hordak has a tragic back story, he's had it rough, he has a specific goal and conquering Etheria seems to become less and less important to him. He's even able to form a close friendship with Entrapta.

Shadow Weaver being a maternal figure for Adora was something the original had but wasn't mentioned much at all. The fact that she was the foster mother of both Catra and Adora and favoured Adora to the point of obsession in getting her back gave the back story so much more. The fact that Shadow weaver is more connected to the other characters and has her own back story and then a redemption, I love it.

I also love how the relationship between Shadow Weaver and Catra was really explored. It made Catra so much more than just a boring villain of the week when you see the neglect and abuse she went through. How her only solice was Adora, you can totally understand why she feels broken when Adora leaves everything they both know. But I also love how even though she was villian she kept her sense of humour and she just couldnt get over Adora no matter how hard she tried to.

Glimmer? So much more character than the original. Her relationship with her mother was brilliant. Angela was so funny and I was gutted when she died. In the original it was Angela that had been gone a long time and had to be rescued by He Man and She Ra to be reunited with Glimmer. Her father didn't show up, but it was rumoured that a mysterious red knight who Angela thought she knew could have been him.

Bow? This bow was amazing with all of his tech and his sass and his sensitivity. The original bow was OK but he wasn't the character you watched the show for. I'm also glad they didnt have him pining for She Ra like the OG did. The fact he has two gay dads was amazing! I do wish they had kept Kowl though.

Swift Wind is hands down by favourite side character! That horse is so sassy he just make me crack up no matter what he does. I'm glad they did him justice, because when I was younger I always wanted a white horse and to call it Spirit like the Original She Ra and so that meant a lot that they just improved on him.

I love how everyone knows who Adora is, there is no secret identity.

The fact that the princesses have so much more personality and backstory than their OG counter parts did is brilliant. My absolute favourite is Mermista!

Scorpia? I love how she wasn't just a bad guy like her OG counter part was. This character is so much more interesting. She goes on her own journey, she doesn't even seem to grasp what she's doing half the time because she is just desperate to have friends. She never gave up on her friendship with Catra, even when Catra didn't want her she was still there. I love that.

Sea Hawk? Omg! One of my favourites! A far cry from his OG character. I'm so glad they didnt have him and Adora as a couple like the OG did! "ADVENTURE!!"

This show had everything! So much more humour than the OG one. It allowed violence as well which is something the OG one didn't allow. If you ever watch it you'll notice She Ra doesn't hit any one who is alive (Robots don't count) she would beat them in ways they couldn't be harmed, like she ra throwing into mud or water. But this? This show has some ass kicking going on!

The shape of the characters is also brilliant. I love how Glimmer is slightly bigger than than the other characters. How we have them in all shapes and sizes. The OG characters were always drawn using the same template. The footage was also constantly reused in every episode.

Now for the change I love the most! The LGBTQ rep! This would have been unthinkable when the OG show was on! No one would have dared suggest it. (Although He Man always had gay under tones, especially after the live action movie happened). But when I was watching this show being gay wasn't something people discussed and certainly not with children. The most we saw was the occasional gay couple on a soap. For me it was Tony and Simon in Eastenders and Zoe Tate on Emmerdale. But a children's show? NEVER!

I wish I had had this show when I was a kid. It took me until i became an adult to admit that I liked women. If I had had this show and these characters in my life perhaps things would have been easier. It would have helped me understand myself better. Unfortunately for the time it still would have been frowned upon and even though my family are much more accepting after a lot of education I don't think I would have been allowed to watch this show this way when I was a kid.

But kids now are so lucky! They are exposed to the LGBT every day. It's everywhere! It isn't hiding anymore, it's so much more accepted. Even when I was a teen at school a lot of gay people were still in the "we know you exist but we don't want to know about it" phase.

This show handled it so well!! There was no coming out story line, no trying to figure out why they had these feelings. It was treated the exact same way any hetro storyline would be. The fact that there was a canon lesbian couple from the get go said it all. As the seasons went in they progressed and gave us Bows gay dad's. They had Adora crushing on women. They didn't even try to hide what they were doing with Catra and Adora. I love how this last season gave more screen time and story to Spinereella and Netalia rather than them just "being there". It was just handled so well. None of the characters battered an eye lid at the thought of Adora and Catra as a couple. I'm just gutted its over. They even gave us an epilogue!!

Last point, maybe it's an unpopular opinion but I feel like they didn't need to put Glimmer and Bow together. I always adored how they had this wonderful best friend relationship between a boy and girl that didn't need to end in them falling in love. I never saw them as a couple, just best friends. Plus I always saw Bow as asexual.

Catradora reminds me so much of Supercorp from Supergirl. It gives me hope that maybe the show will be brave and give us a canon Lena and Kara. But I won't hold my breath 😅

All the kudos to She Ra!

[friendofspidermannedleeds]

Fictober - Day 7

Prompt #7: “yes I did, what about it?” (remixed)  Fandom: Spider-Man (MCU) Rating: G Warnings: None Characters: May and Peter Parker, May Parker and Karen (AI)  Words: 1879 Summary: May needs a system to keep track of Peter. Karen is here to help. 

---

“Peter, I can’t keep doing this.”

May sat at the kitchen breakfast nook, holding a mug of tea between her hands in an attempt to remain calm and level-headed when Peter had returned home after 3am for the third night in a row.

He skittered back and forth around the kitchen, sloppily piecing together a PB&J.

“Can’t keep doing what, exactly?”

“You know what,” May said. “When I agreed to support your Spider-Man stuff you promised to get home at a responsible hour for school. You promised to text or call if you had to be out past 1am. I’m so sick of this.”

Peter talked through a giant bite of his sandwich. “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. But my phone died, so I couldn’t—”

“Okay, so, you shouldn’t patrol if your phone’s dead. We’ve been over this—”

“How was I supposed to know it was gonna die? It’s not like I planned for that to happen, it was still at 11% when I left—”

“You left to do some dangerous crime-fighting with your phone at eleven percent??”

“Yeah I did, so??”

“PETER.”

His shoulders slumped at her tone.

“Sorry, May. That wasn’t cool. I’m—I’m so tired.” He joined her at the table, munching his sandwich defeatedly.

May rubbed her temples. “I’m not trying to be unreasonable here, sweetheart, it’s just…it’s just that we need a new system,” she said with a sigh. “I know you are capable, and I know you’re not trying to be out so late. But you can’t put saving the world before your own sanity or mine. You just can’t.”

Peter didn’t respond immediately, his eyebrows furrowed as he chewed the last of his PB&J. He swallowed, then spoke with intent.

“I really am sorry, May. I don’t mean to stay out so late, and I don’t mean to forget to text you. I don’t go looking for trouble after midnight when I’m making my way home, but this week stuff just kept coming up. And when I’m out there, in the middle of things, I just—I won’t leave people who need my help just to get a few extra hours of sleep. I can’t.”

“But you can, Peter, and you need to. You’re a person too, it’s not your responsibility to—”

“But it is, May!” He interrupted. “If I have the ability to help but I don’t, then that’s on me.”

May stared at him, her heart twisting at how much he looked and sounded like Ben. He was so earnest, and so stubborn. She knew she couldn’t convince him to put himself first with just one talk. This wouldn’t be an overnight fix. They needed a more immediate solution.

“Can you just—just try a little harder to make it back on time? And to text or call if you can’t? For me?”

He nodded with his eyes cast downward at the table. “Yeah, May, I’ll try. I—OH!” He shot his head up, eyes bright with inspiration. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before, I’m so stupid. Here—" He ran to the living room where he’d discarded his mask. “Karen can help us!!”

“Karen?” May asked. “Your suit lady?”

“Yeah,” he said enthusiastically, “When I unlocked her I found out she could send and receive calls and texts, I’ll just have to ask her! But she’s super fancy, so I’m sure she can also do things without me telling her to—we can program her to do whatever you want!”

May smirked. “Can we program her to turn off your webs at 1am and send you home?”

Peter looked guilty and she melted. “Just a joke, sweetheart. You were saying?”

“Right,” he breathed a sigh of relief, “So, we just ask her to do whatever you want her to do, which is…” his words were interrupted by a huge yawn. “…which is what, exactly?”

“Bed.” May said decidedly. “We can figure this out tomorrow night.”

“No, I owe it to you to fix this now,” Peter protested weakly, looking more exhausted by the minute. He fumbled with the mask. “Here, I’ll put it on and ask her—hey!”

May had snatched the mask out of his hands. “Tomorrow, Peter. It’s a school night!”

“Okay, okay.” He rubbed his eyes and turned to head to his room. “But if you want to ask her yourself, just put the mask on and talk. Karen’ll walk you through whatever.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, try it.” Another yawn. “G’night, May. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she replied, waiting until he’d turned the corner to sink into the loveseat and stare at the mask. She gave the thought of bedtime for herself only the briefest consideration before pulling the mask onto her head.

An overwhelming array of virtual nonsense and a faint funk of teenage sweat nearly caused her to rip it back off, when—

“Hello, May Parker.”

She jumped out of her skin. “He-hello?? How did you kn—”

“What can I assist you with this morning?”

May felt like an idiot, sitting there with her nephew’s mask on—her spider-kid superhero nephew’s mask that was created by billionaire Tony Stark—at 3:15 in the morning, talking to an AI Peter had affectionately named “Karen,” of all things, but here she was. This was her life now.

“Hi Karen, yeah. I need help keeping track of Peter. His phone sometimes dies when he’s out late at night, or he sometimes forgets to text or call to let me know what’s going on, and I can’t take it anymore. I need to know where he is so I’m not up worrying all night.”

“Understood, Mrs. Parker. If Peter fails to notify me to contact you, I can text your phone myself. What time is his curfew?”

May laughed. The absurdity of talking to an AI about parenting her super-kid wasn’t lost on her, but it was still nice, somehow—she couldn’t talk about this stuff with anyone else.

“It was unofficially 11 before Spider-Man, but since he’s so hell-bent on saving the world, we agreed that midnight is the goal and he should let me know if he can’t be back by 1.”

“That sounds very reasonable, May. I will ensure that he or I will contact you if he is ever out past 1am. Is there anything else you require?”

May spotted a video camera icon in the left-hand corner of her view. She was tempted to ask what footage Peter collected with the suit, but quickly thought better of it. She trusted him, and he trusted her. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the whole truth of what her boy got up to.

“I don’t think so, Karen, at least not right now.” She sighed. “I just… I just worry about him, you know? Like it’s hard to sit here and know he’s out there saving the world and what-not, and there’s nothing I can do to help, or to keep him safe. Can you—this is so weird, talking to a computer—can you just reassure me—is he okay out there? Does he…make good choices and all that?”

“Peter is young and inexperienced, but Mr. Stark’s technology has helped keep him safe.” Karen replied, the kindness in her tone both reassuring and slightly unsettling to May’s tech-inept mind. “He has also been much more careful since you discovered his secret.”

May’s heart warmed at that. “He has?”

“Yes. But I can add extra protocols to reassure you further, if you’d like. Would you like me to alert you when Peter acquires an injury?”

May startled. “I—what? How often does he get injured? I mean I’ve seen some bruises and cuts, and I know he got pretty seriously hurt Homecoming weekend, but—he’s not been hurt recently, has he?”

Karen projected a video in front of May’s vision. “Last Thursday he took a pretty nasty fall.” May watched the footage of Peter’s POV in horror: his left arm mis-aimed a web while swinging in the rain and he slammed into a fire escape before falling three stories. “I detected a hairline fracture in his left wrist, a minor concussion, and a sprained ligament in his left ankle, as well as several bruises.” The video replayed on a loop as she spoke, and May shut her eyes, feeling nauseous.

“Stop, stop it, please.” She begged the AI. “What the hell, Karen, that was awful—don’t show me any more videos, I can’t watch that.” She shook her head. “Why didn’t he tell me about any of this?”

“Mr. Parker specifically requested that I keep the fall a secret.” Karen said apologetically.

“I’m gonna kill him.” May muttered under her breath.

“That was his fear.”

“Great, Karen. Thanks.”

She imagined Peter stumbling through his bedroom window with broken limbs and made her decision.

“You know what? Please do inform me when he’s injured. God knows he doesn’t tell me this stuff himself, and I have a right to know.”

“Noted, Mrs. Parker. Anything else I can do for you?”

May nearly said no, nearly thanked Karen for her services and went to bed. But sitting and talking to this AI was oddly comforting, and the thought of Peter’s escapades had been keeping her up at night anyway.

“Karen—Tony Stark made you, correct?”

“Yes.”

“So you know a lot about superheroes?”

“Yes,” Karen answered, “I know everything about all superheroes, including the Avengers.”

May nodded. “Okay, then…can I ask you a question? Are…are all superheroes like this? Are they all infuriatingly self-sacrificing, and stubborn, and do they all insist that saving the world is more important than saving themselves?”

Karen did not answer immediately, and May felt like an idiot for asking such a loaded question to an AI whose capacity for emotional intelligence was still unclear.

“You know what,” she said, “forget I asked that. Just forget it, I—”

“May,” Karen interrupted kindly, softly. “Peter is okay.”

May took a shaky breath. “Right. I know that. I know he’s okay. But I just feel like he’s taking on too much, you know? He thinks he’s responsible for…for everything. It’s ridiculous, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I mean he’s just like—”

She cut herself off. She was talking to a computer who probably reported everything back to Tony Stark, and well—some things were sacred. “Karen” didn’t need to know that Peter was just like Ben.

“Would you like to talk more about what’s troubling you, May?” Karen asked.

“No, Karen. But this was good, thank you. It was really nice to have somebody to talk to.”

“Of course. Sleep well.”

May removed the mask and exhaled. Conversing with an AI had made for one of the weirdest nights of her life, no question, but she’d needed it. As absurd as it was, Karen knew what May’s friends couldn’t—her kid was a spider in spandex.

May would know where Peter was now, and she’d know when he was hurt, or running late, or unable to talk because he’s busy saving the world.

Peter believed it was his responsibility to help everybody. May knew it was her responsibility to help him.

And Karen was her new secret weapon.

[hailing-stars]

febuwhump day one: lost -small miracles 

read on ao3

A cursed song played.

It screeched out from a plastic wand, and, even more cursed, Tony was singing along to the princess toy. Not out loud, of course, just in his head. He knew all the words. Hell, he even knew all the dance moves, all the steps and swings Elsa took as she belted impossible notes while building her ice castle.

He would’ve blamed Morgan, but Tony suspected most of the blame fell on Peter’s shoulders. Just a day earlier, he’d been singing at the top of his lungs, dancing around in the jet, making Morgan giggle and Tony blast the volume on the classic rock pumping through the plane’s speakers.

He smiled at the memory. It was just a day old, but it didn’t make it any less good.

Tony looked down when Morgan started tugging at the bottom of his shirt. She stared up at him, eyes wide, with a face full of fake innocence, the kind that let Tony know she was about to ask for something, or rather, kept asking for something.

“Please dad.”

“Come on, Mr. Stark,” added Peter. His eyes were also wide, and his brown hair stuck up behind a pair of black Micky ears. “Please.”

“No.”

“But – “

“It’s bad enough that I paid fifty dollars for two pairs of glorified headbands,” said Tony. “I don’t need to make myself look like even more of a fool.”

“Aww, dad, you’re ruining the atmosphere,” Morgan chimed in. She continued yanking at the bottom of his shirt.  

Tony resisted the urge to mock the atmosphere. The thousand screaming kids, who carried souvenirs that played even more cursed songs.

“Yeah, Mr. Stark. Have some Disney spirit.”

He looked at the kids. His kids. They were both there, both alive and breathing and well. They both wore ridiculous mistakes of the fashion industry on their heads, and they both were pulling their most convincing puppy dog eyes. He only lasted just a couple seconds longer about caving and handing his credit card to the cashier.

A third pair of Micky ears cost him another twenty-five dollars and a rush of humiliation once he put them on over his head and walked out of the souvenir shop, but the grins on Peter and Morgan’s faces were a memory he’d always have.

“Looks like the weather needs to get in the Disney spirit,” said Tony, looking up and around at the clouds that had rolled in while they were in the shop.

The sky was grey. No trace of sunlight anywhere. A breeze blew through their hair, bring a chill with it, one that made any of the water attractions unthinkable.

The kids didn’t seem to notice, though. If they did, they didn’t care. Morgan was too busy naming all the Disney characters she wanted to meet, and Peter was too busy trying to find their location on the map as she listed them off.

Tony didn’t know if he should be concerned that most of the ones she wanted pictures with were villains. Later, he’d ask Pepper. Some SI emergency had her back in the hotel suit, dulling out her wisdom and orders via Skype.

“Ok, umm,” said Peter, sliding his finger across the map. “If we start here, we should be able to get pictures with all of them.”

“You sure, Pete?” asked Tony. “Meeting them all might take the day. This is your vacation, too.”

“It’s okay,” he said, with a smile. He folded up the map and slid it into his back pocket. “We still have tomorrow to see all the Star Wars stuff and go on rides.”

Morgan gave an excited little jump, and Tony clapped Peter on the shoulder, wondering how he’d gotten lucky enough to have two perfect kids.

They spent the day taking pictures with Disney characters and going on the occasional ride, and ended it with room service in their suite, with Morgan showing off her pictures to Pepper. She painted gold sparkles on Peter’s Micky ears while she told her mom all about how the Evil Queen was really just misunderstood and while Peter texted Michelle.

Or, probably.

He was probably texting Michelle. He had that goofy smile on his face only she could be responsible for.

Tony smiled and put his metal arm around his wife. It didn’t really matter to him he was missing his real arm. After the war, after Thanos was destroyed and the lost were brought back, Tony had never felt so whole, so content.

He should have known it wouldn’t last forever.

*

Their second day at Disney World started the same as their first, right down to Pepper explaining that she’d be spending the day in the suite, once again, trying to put out fires at SI. She pushed him and the kids out the door, assuring him everything was fine and that he should enjoy the day, that there was nothing he could do.

“Alright,” said Tony, after Pepper pulled the door shut behind them. “What’s the plan today?”

“Star Wars,” was Peter’s immediate answer.

“Star Wars it is.”

“Yes!” Morgan leaped and did fighting poses as she glided down the hallway, towards the elevator. “I’m gonna get a lightsaber!”

“Volume, little miss,” Tony told her, looking around at all the closed hotel room doors. “And no hitting anybody with it, once you have it.”

“We’ll see!” said Morgan, in a sing-song voice. She darted into the elevator as the doors opened.

Peter laughed as he pressed the button to the lobby. “Don’t worry, Mo. We’ll have epic lightsaber battles on the plane ride home.”

“YEAH!”

Tony grunted, hoping to come off like he hated the idea when actually he didn’t mind it. Anything to prevent another sing-along, dance-along, that got yet another Disney song stuck in his head.

*

Peter’s head was buried behind the Disney map, only the Mickey Ears he still insisted on wearing were visible. He was the very definition of nerd then, at the moment, standing on a crowded path at Disney World, wearing a shirt that described various sounds of the weapons in Star Wars.

Tony hoped he never changed.

He could stay like that forever, seventeen and content to spend a week humoring his little sister, but Tony knew he wouldn’t. Time marched on, even now that everything was perfect, even now that Tony was retired and had nothing to look forward to except living in the moment, every moment, as they happened.

Peter closed the map. “It’s over that way… just let me run to the bathroom real fast, Mr. Stark.”

Come to think of it, that could change.

Peter could drop the formality and start calling him by his first name. It was a fool’s errand to even suggest it.

There were only a handful of occasions Peter slipped up and called him Tony, every one of them were he was distressed, like that time he was delirious with the flu, or the last time, after Tony had snapped Thanos and his army away and Peter had been sure Tony was dying.

Peter disappeared into the bathroom, and Tony grabbed Morgan’s hand and guided her towards a nearby bench, preventing her from running after some other kid who’d already gotten a lightsaber.

Five minutes passed. Tony checked the time on his phone, mentally cursing Peter’s questionable food choices.

Ten minutes passed and Tony’s leg started to bounce. He shouldn’t be worry. There was nothing to worry about, and even if Peter was on the floor of a bathroom stall, getting violently ill from something he ate, he wouldn’t appreciate being checked up on in the bathroom.

He pushed down his paranoid parental instinct, his nagging anxiety that something was wrong, or at least, he held it back as long as he could.

Fifteen minutes passed and Tony no longer cared what a seventeen-year-old would find embarrassing. He stood up from the bench, grabbed Morgan’s hand, and marched off towards the bathroom.

“Eww, no dad,” said Morgan, stopping when saw she was being tugged towards the men’s room. “Boys are gross, and they smell. I can’t go in there.”

A point was made, but Tony couldn’t stand the thought of letting go of one child when he was terrified something had happened to the other. He lifted her into his arms, told her put her head down in his shoulder and close her eyes, then walked into the men’s room, noting that Morgan had been right.

It did smell, despite being soul-crushingly empty, besides a kid standing at the sink washing his hands.

“Peter?” asked Tony, looking around.

There wasn’t a response. He didn’t know why he thought there would be. All the stall doors were open and there weren’t any feet visible under any of them.

“Hey,” said Tony, getting the kid’s attention. He turned off the facet and looked at Tony. “Seen a teenager in here? He had on some nerdy Star Wars shirt and Mickey ears?”

The boy shook his head and hurried out of the bathroom, forgetting to dry his dripping wet hands.

Tony’s heartbeat pumped through his ears. His eyes raced around the small bathroom, as his brain tried and failed to come up with explanations to where Peter could have gone. Panic and paranoia, along with the truth that Peter was too polite and considerate to simply run off without telling him, took over and dread twisted a tight knot his belly.

For the second time, Peter Parker had disappeared into thin air, and Tony had done nothing to prevent it.

*

Tony sat in a tiny, hot room, between two sweaty men who hadn’t bothered with deodorant. His legs were shoved under a tiny wooden table, his back was hunched forward, and his eyes were glued to the security monitor.

He watched as Peter left him and Morgan by a bench on a pathway and disappeared into the bathroom. After that, there was nothing. No sign of Peter leaving the bathroom, no sign of Peter at all. Tony sped up the footage, rewound and played it again, only to see it play out in the exact same way.

A low shakily breath escaped Tony and both his hands flew up to grip the table. Not again. This couldn’t be happening again. Not to Peter, not to his kid. Thanos was gone. The world was set right, or had been, up until the very Peter had wandered into the bathroom and didn’t come back out.

Tony’s world would never be okay with Peter Parker in it, even if the rest of the world spun on without a blip. That was the thing about saving the world, he supposed, it always needed saving.

There was always someone out there, waiting and watching and wanting to cause harm in one way or another. Whoever it was this time really messed with the wrong retired Avenger. They took the wrong kid.

He’d get him back. Tony couldn’t imagine a future where he didn’t get Peter back. The world, the universe, would simply cease to be.

Tony left the security guards in their sauna and set out to find Peter’s phone. A quick look at the tracking software on his own led him to the opposite side of the park, where he saw Peter’s cellphone in a patch of grass under a sign.

Carefully, he picked it up and rubbed his thumb over the freshly cracked screen.

“Really, kid? Again?” asked Tony. He examined the third phone Peter had ruined that month. “You’d think someone with sticky fingers would have a better grip.”

Peter laughed and shrugged. “Maybe I just like the aesthetic better that way.”

Tony blinked away the memory and shook his head, looking forward to finding Peter so he could buy him another phone and, probably, many more after that.

“Where are you, Pete?” asked Tony, as if he expected the phone might answer.

It didn’t, of course, and as the day wore on, Tony was beginning to worry he might never get his answer, might never had the chance to berate the boy about cellphone responsibility ever again.

At some point, Disney security notified the police, who arrived to take Tony’s statement and start a search party. It yielded nothing, except panic and chaos and concerned parents leaving the park early with fears that someone dangerous might be lurking about.

Pepper called May and Happy, and Tony put out a distress call to the Avengers, though he refused to go back up to the suite with Pepper and Morgan to sit around and wait.

Instead he wandered around the darkened, abandoned Disney pathways, clutching Peter’s broken phone in a tight fist and wishing the day had ended the way it had been supposed to end, with epic lightsaber duels and laughing.

Now all he had were echoes of what was supposed to be.

*

Disney World was eerie at night.

Tony couldn’t quite pinpoint why, exactly. Most likely it was a combination of things. The silence, the lack of little kids with capes and princess wands running around, screaming, the lack of his own family surrounding him.

It was dark and empty and cold, devoid of any charm or warmth.

It reminded Tony of the way the world looked and felt after he’d made it back from space and witnessed the greater devastation Thanos’ snap had caused. Maybe that was just him, though. Maybe that was just the effect of Peter Parker’s mysterious absence had on his onlook.

That’s what kept him going, kept him searching. Peter had to be out there somewhere. Tony wouldn’t consider any other option.

He shook his head and checked his watch, muttering under his breath about the Avengers being so late. Cap had turned into an old man and suddenly everyone else became slow.

“Mr. Stark.”

Tony startled, and jerked his eyes away from his watch. He looked around but didn’t see anything.

“Mr. Stark! Up h-here!” Peter’s cry was desperate and panicked but filled kindled warmth within Tony’s chest. He found him. He found his boy and he was alive.

He looked up and spotted Peter hanging off the edge of a ride, clinging to its tracks. His legs wiggled around in the air as he struggled to keep his grip.

“Pete,” yelled Tony, frowning. Something was off. “Stop struggling, just stick and climb down.”

“I c-can’t,” said Peter. “Please, Mr. Stark, you have to help me. I don’t know – I don’t know what’s happening, my powers – I lost th – I can’t – “

Tony rushed forward when Peter’s fingers slipped off the metal and he dropped to the ground below. His head smacked against the concrete and blood oozed out from his forehead, matting his hair together

Tony rushed forward, but before he could get there, before he could even think about calling a suit, Peter’s fingers slipped off the metal track and he dropped to the concrete below. Peter’s head smacked against the ground and blood oozed out from his forehead, matting his hair together and stabbing at Tony’s heart.

“Peter, oh god, Pete!” Tony sunk to the ground near Peter’s limp body. He stretched out a hand, needing to provide some sort of comfort, needing to provide his kid with something, but was stopped dead when Peter fixed him with an empty, sad stare.

“Too late, Mr. Stark,” he croaked out. Blood continued to pour out from his head. “Why are you always too late?”

His eyes fluttered close. His chest stopped moving, then, just like that, his lifeless body faded away and nothing was left of Peter Parker. Not ashes, not even his blood. Tony pressed his palm up against the concrete where it had been stained red. His hand came back clean.

He stared at it, flexing his palm, in utter confusion and shock, until the edges of his vision started to blur. The Disney pathways, the rides, all the bright colors, disappeared and it was just Tony, sitting in a sea of blackness.

Slowly and carefully, he stood and looked around at all the nothing, the darkness that stretched as far as he could see.

The sound of Peter screaming broke the silence.

Tony broke into a run. His feet propelled him forward through the black, towards the gut-wrenching sounds of Peter’s pained, desperate cries. Eventually Tony came upon a light, which turned into, once he got closer, a room with a large, glass window.

Inside the room Peter was strapped down on a medical, while men in white coats hovered around him, poking him with needles.

“Hey! Let him go!” Tony yelled. Nobody seemed to hear him. He took a step forward, ready to beat his fist against the glass until it broke, but an eerily familiar voice stopped him.

“Stark.” The man who seemingly appeared out of nowhere sounded like Ross. Though his face was still familiar, Tony couldn’t place it. “No use trying to save him now.”

Tony redirected his attention into the room. Peter had stopped screaming. Whatever they had been injecting him with had killed him.

“Don’t look so shocked,” said the man. “Did you really think you could hide him from me forever?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off Peter’s dead body. He couldn’t make his mouth form words.

“Did you really think this all this would end any other way than his death?”

Tony swung his fist into the glass and it went straight through. The glass dissolved into nothing, into the darkness, at his touch, along with anything else. Gone was Ross-voiced man, gone was the white-coated scientists, gone was Peter’s corpse…

Then, once again, it was just Tony and the black. There was no screaming that time, just silence. No running, now that Tony didn’t have a reason to move.

That didn’t matter, though. The trouble came to him instead.

Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson appeared out of the darkness. In Bucky’s arms, limp and lifeless, was Spider-Man sans mask.

“We’re sorry, man,” Sam told Tony. “There was nothing we could do.”

“That’s bullshit,” the words fell from Tony’s mouth, but it was as if someone else were saying them, as if he were watching from someone else above. “You were supposed to watch out for him! You were supposed to keep him safe!”

“Oh, please, Stark.”

Tony turned and he was in the Parker living room, only dimmer and less inviting. May Parker stood in front of him, glaring at him.

“Like you should talk,” said May. “You killed him the day you walked into his apartment and recruited him for your little war. He’d still be alive if it wasn’t for you dragging him into it. I hope you’re proud of yourself, Mr. Stark.”

She grabbed an ern, Peter’s ern Tony realized, and walked towards him. “Take him. You had no problem taking him from me when he was alive.”

May shoved the ern into Tony’s arms, but at contact, it turned to dust and slipped through his fingers, the same way Peter had slipped through his fingers back on Titan.

May and her apartment faded away and Tony was thrown back into the darkness.

It wasn’t all black that time, at least not for very long, as Tony was assaulted with flashes of his worst nightmare over and over again. Peter in a dark alleyway getting stabbed through the stomach. Peter getting crushed by a building. Peter getting electrocuted until his face was blue and foam bubbled from his mouth.

Peter drowning in a cold lake, pounding on the ice that separated them, and staring up at Tony with pleading eyes, begging for his help. Tony didn’t move. He didn’t stomp on the ice or try getting him out. It didn’t matter what Tony did.

The story ended the same each time, with Peter’s death.

Peter went still, sunk away from the ice and disappeared into the water’s depths. His hand was still, too, but it remained outstretched, as if he were still waiting for Tony to grab onto him and lift him to safety.

Tony watched him float away, until he couldn’t see him anymore, until he was staring at s concrete Disney pathway that had once been red with Peter’s blood.

He breathed hard and looked around, wondering what the hell kind of acid trip he’d just lived through. His brained race with just one thought. Peter. Was he alive, or dead? He needed to see him, touch him.

He needed to know he was still breathing. That he was real.

“Daddy?”

Tony turned and saw Morgan standing still behind him, watching him. Her hair was crumpled and caked with dried blood.

“Morgan?” asked Tony. His voice had a shake. “What happened to you? Where’s mom?”

She didn’t have an answer for him. Just a stare, one Tony had always feared he’d receive from Morgan. She looked at him the same way he’d learned to look at his own father as a boy.  

“Why didn’t you save him?” she asked. “Why do you keep letting him die?”

“Morgan – “

“You let Peter die! You killed Peter!” she yelled. She turned, and ran, forcing Tony to run after her.

He followed her off the main pathways and through some grass. She finally stopped her sprint when she got to the edge of a body of water. She turned around and Tony reached out his hand, only for her to turn into dust and blow away with a breeze.

Water from the lake ran over Tony’s shoes, bring with it a pair of Mickey ears he was compelled to pick up. As he examined them and the gold fingernail polish painted onto them, gears turned behind his eyes.

He thought back to the Ross-voiced man with a familiar face, finally realizing how he recognized him. He pulled his phone from his pocket, keeping his eyes on the abandoned building across the lake, and dialed Pepper.

She answered on the first ring.

“Tony – “

“Is Morgan with you?”

“Yeah, of course,” she told him. “Where else would she be?”

Tony felt a warm blanket of relief cover his body. “Tell me what’s going on a SI.”

“Right now?” asked Pepper. She sounded surprised, but went on anyway. “Someone broke in, stole some technology. We’ve been trying to figure out how they breached security and track down what’s missing.”

“What technology?” he asked, though he thought he probably already knew.

“BARF.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Tony hang up before Pepper could say anything else. He didn’t have the time to waste. He had a deranged man to bury and a son to rescue.

*

“Come on, Mr. Stark, hurry up,” muttered Peter, twisting his wrist around in the handcuffs that had them locked together. His skin was red and itchy underneath, and that bothered him more than the glass cage he was locked in.

He stretched out his legs and gave the glass a good, strong kick. It didn’t break. Not even a little bit, not even by a tiny crack. Without thinking, he tried, not for the first time, to pull his hands apart, only to growl in frustration and drop his hands into his lap.

This whole thing, this whole being handcuffed and locked away in a dark, damp building, wasn’t how Peter wanted to spend his day. Plus it was dramatic. It was overkill and a little redundant.

Mysterio – as Peter had nicknamed him – had only rolled his eyes and chuckled a little after he’d told himself, after he’d asked him to either let him out of the glass prison or loosen the handcuffs.

He supposed dramatic and overkill were good ways to describe his captor. He wore a costume as if he were an actor on the set of a CGI heavy movie, and he spoke like there was an audience watching.

Regardless, Peter popped his head up when Mysterio strode back into the room.

“Hey, you’re back,” said Peter. He scrambled to his feet, stumbled around a little bit as the task of standing was made difficult with complete use of his hands, and stood at the edge of his cage. “You didn’t bring me any food? That’s rude.”  

A strange, unsettling smirk split Mysterio’s face as he stopped, turned, and slowly approached. “You know, you’re a good kid, Peter. I almost feel bad about this.”

“You know,” said Peter. “I’ve actually heard that one before. It’s a little cliché.”

“It’s just too bad you got mixed up with someone like Tony Stark,” Mysterio told him. His voice squeaked as he struggled to turn an oversized facet.  

“Too bad for you, actually,” Peter frowned, both unimpressed by his complete lack of physical strength and trying to figure out what it was he was attempting to do. Peter had a bad feeling, but he also had Mr. Stark’s words of advice floating around in his head, given in case he ever found himself in a situation like this one.

Keep them talking. Distract and stall.

“I feel sorry for you.”

Mysterio stopped his struggle, looked back at Peter, and snorted. “Why? Because the self-destructing cycle of revenge only leads to the dark side?”

A villain making fun of his shirt. That was a first, but Mysterio wasn’t technically wrong.

His vendetta against Mr. Stark was both insane and self-destructive and couldn’t end well for him. It was embarrassing sometimes, the extremes Mr. Stark would go to when someone was threatening his kids, though Peter was thankful for it during times like these.

“No,” said Peter. “Because Mr. Stark’s going to beat the shit out of you.”

“Maybe,” said Mysterio. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”

“You’re pretty confident for a guy who can’t turn… whatever it is you’re trying to turn.”

Mysterio chuckled, his hand still on the oversized facet. “Imagine Peter, seeing your loved die over and over again and not doing anything to stop it. Imagine what it might do to a person and the guilt they’d feel knowing they did nothing to save them… guilt like that, it’d ruin a man, or at least, a man like Tony Stark.”

The facet groaned when Mysterio finally gathered up enough strength to turn it and Peter felt the floor beneath him shake. Water seeped in from the slits on the floor, quickly covering the area of the glass cage and soaking into Peter’s shoes.

A shiver went through him, and Peter was about complain at Mysterio, about to tell him he could’ve at least used room temperature water if he was going to try and drown him, but he was cut off by a deafening boom. Wood shattered on the wall to the left of them, and Mr. Stark stepped into the room.

His regular hand, the one that wasn’t metal, was covered in armor. The gauntlet water, Peter guessed.

“Mr. Stark…” said Peter, his voice both filled with relief and with a tremor. The water was rising fast, so cold that it stabbed at Peter’s legs like knives. “Perfect timing.”

Mr. Stark didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, he stared straight at Mysterio.

“Hi crazy eyes,” greeted Mr. Stark. “Having fun with my tech?”

“It’s – “

Mr. Stark waved a hand at him. “Know what? No. Whatever you have to said isn’t anything we all haven’t heard before. You can cut your villain monologue shit too, just tell me where my kid is so I can blast you into that wall.”

“He’s right there,” said Mysterio. He pointed to the cage, to Peter, but Mr. Stark refused to look.

“Mr. Stark,” said Peter, a second time. It didn’t change anything. Mr. Stark kept his eyes on Mysterio, and for the first time that day, Peter started to worry. His legs were numb, the water had risen to his waist.

“Not falling for it,” said Mr. Stark. “Where’s Peter? Don’t make me ask again. You’ll regret it.” Mr. Stark paused, amended. “Well let’s face you’re going to regret this either way.”

“It’s m-me,” said Peter, quietly, his teeth chattering. Either of the men in the room heard him, and he doubted it would matter if they did.  

He wracked his brain for something, anything, like some sort of secret passage word Mr. Stark would understand, would have to realize he wasn’t an imposter. It was hard to think, though, with the water knifing him, with his breath coming so fast.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shouted that time, he ignored the ache in his wrists and brought both hands up against the glass. It didn’t break. “It’s me, it’s Peter, help!”

Finally, at last, Mr. stark spared him a look, but the relief Peter felt was short-lived. It died out when he saw the look in his eyes. Mr. Stark had never looked at him that way before. Not even during the regrettable ferry incident. Like he was scum. Worse than scum. Like he was Mysterio.  

The stare had been colder than the water. Peter went still, went quiet, and Mr. Stark looked back at Mysterio. The water rose up to the bottom of Peter’s neck.

“If that were really Peter,” said Mr. Stark, taking steps closer to Mysterio, who started to back up. “He’d broken that glass to bits.”

“I can’t!” Peter shouted. Mr. Stark ignored him. “I c-can’t! I - I lost my powers!”

“That’s a nice try, Beck. A+ for the dramatics, but word of advice, never try to pull the same trick twice.”

Peter gave the glass a kick as the water hit his chin, kicked it again when his nose went under, and a third time when he was completely submerged.

He opened his eyes under the water. Mr. Stark had a hold of Mysterio’s shirt and punched him across his face with the prosthetic hand. At least Peter had been right about one thing. Mysterio would be very lucky to leave Disney World with all his teeth.

It didn’t seem to matter, though.

Peter was dying, drowning, with Mr. Stark standing just a few feet away, and it didn’t matter how many punches, how badly he beat Mysterio, Peter knew if he died, died this way, it’d be a blow Mr. Stark might never recover from.

He’d be wrecked with guilt, just as Mysterio said, and Peter wasn’t going to let that happen.

He pushed up off the floor, as hard as he could, and thrust his head above the water.

“T-tony!” Peter managed to yell out, water spilling into his mouth as he sunk back down.

Mr. Stark whirled around. His eyes went wide when he looked at him, really looked at him, with warmth and worry. His eyes were completely absent of the previous coldness. He dropped Mysterio, who hit the ground hard, stretched out his arm and pointed his palm at the glass cage.

There was a beam light, then Peter was sliding down to the floor with the water. Shards of glass landed around him and Mr. Stark ran towards him. He immediately pulled Peter up into his arms, covering the side of Peter’s head with his hand and slamming it up against his chest.

Peter relished the warmth he stole from Mr. Stark and the air traveling freely through his lungs.

“God, kid,” said Mr. Stark. He swiped a mop of freezing, wet hair from Peter’s forehead, as he shivered under his arms. “I’m sorry. I – I didn’t think you were real.”

“’t’s ‘kay,” said Peter, still breathing hard as he tried to speak. “You got me, I’m okay.”

He’d hoped his words might comfort him, but Mr. Stark shushed him and told him to focus on getting good breaths. He got a few more breaths in before repeating himself again, attempting to calm Mr. Stark’s heart as it hammered away in his chest.

“It’s alright,” Peter breathed. “I’m real, you got me.”  

*

Tony walked into Peter’s room, carrying a plate full of corndogs and an entire bottle of mustard.

Peter had been standing by the window, but when he turned and saw he was coming, he scurried back to his bed and under the heated blanket, as if he thought doing it quickly would change the fact that Tony saw him at all.

“I had one condition for not taking you straight to the hospital,” Tony told him. “One.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Mr. Stark, I’m fine.”

It was truer than it wasn’t. Peter was fine. His powers were back. He was breathing and warm and real, but it was Tony’s job to make sure it stayed that way. That Peter stayed under his blankets and fully recovered in time to enjoy Star Wars in the morning.

The same couldn’t be said about Quentin Beck. He’d been carted onto the Quinjet after the Avengers decided to show up and was probably, at least Tony hoped, locked away on the raft.

“We really gotta move past this Mr. Stark business,” said Tony. He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Peter shift around under the covers, trying to get comfortable.

“But then we’d have to think of another password.”

Tony handed him the plate and the bottle of mustard. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be easy enough. Something like ‘corndogs are disgusting.’”

“That’s uncalled for,” said Peter. He squeezed an ungodly amount of mustard all over his food, then had the audacity to lift one up by the stick and put it in Tony’s face. “Wanna try one?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re missing out,” he told him, as he chomped down on the corndog Tony rejected. “It’s tradition. I always have corndogs after I almost die, or a mission goes wrong.”

Almost dying shouldn’t be normal for him, should not in any way have its own traditions, and yet, it was and it did.

That wasn’t Tony’s fault. He may have recruited him into the Avenger’s, but he hadn’t been there when Peter decided to put on his pajamas and fight crime in his backyard.

All it took for him to realize how ridiculous it was to think Peter would ever do anything than try to world the world, or at least his neighborhood, was a series of illusions from a deranged, pretend wizard.

“We need to get you a more sophisticated palate.”

“What like cheeseburgers?”

“Hey,” said Tony. He gave Peter’s shoulder a little push, needing to feel that he was real, that he was really there. “Don’t knock the classics.”

Peter laughed and threw an empty corndog stick at him.  

“I changed my mind,” said Tony. “No Star Wars tomorrow.”

Peter only laughed again in response. He damn well knew Tony would keep his promise and take him to the Star Wars part of the park. That he would take him anywhere if only he asked. He supposed that was his problem now. Two spoiled kids, two miracles, and a long retirement with plenty of time to spoil them.

*

When morning came, Peter was as good as new and spent their entire breakfaster together fidgeting around, rushing everyone and playing on his phone.

Tony couldn’t say he blamed him for being angsty. One day in a glass cage, missing out on the Star Wars adventure he’d been promised, would make anyone eager to start the day.

They made up for it, though, eventually.

They saw everything, rode every ride. Tony and Pepper were forced to sit behind the kids on most rides, unless they wanted Morgan to loudly call them out when they were being what she considered gross and exchanging kisses.

Tony liked it better that way. He got to watch his kids, watch Morgan smile, laugh, scream and cling to Peter. He got to watch and listen to Peter console her during the few moments she was afraid.

“Don’t worry, Mo,” he told her, as the cart crawled up the hill. “I’m sticky. I can’t let you go.”

When the cart, dropped, sped down the incline, all Tony saw in front of him was Peter’s curls, thicker and wilder in the Florida humidity, blowing through the air.

It was a good day, a perfect day. One to erase all the panic and chaos and anxiety of the day that had come before, as if it’d never happened. As if it was all one big illusion, like a nightmare they woke up from and forgotten by breakfast.

The day ended with buying Morgan a lightsaber and watching her go through the Jedi Academy. Tony stood off to the side, with Peter, and with the other parents, with his phone ready to record Morgan’s duel with Darth Vader, but that wasn’t how it played out.

Instead of hitting Darth Vader with the lightsaber, Morgan kneeled down and declared her allegiance to the dark side of the force. She was meet with a roar laughing and cheering and clapping from the onlookers.

Tony kept his phone steady and pointed at Morgan, but turned his body towards Pepper and asked, “Should we be worried about her?”

“She’s your daughter,” said Pepper. “We should always be worried about her.”

Peter erupted into laughter and bothered Tony the rest of the day to send the video to his phone, so he could text it to MJ and Ned.

That day was supposed to be where the vacation ended, but like everything else, that hadn’t gone according to plan, either. Peter was to blame. He forced them all to watch Harry Potter in the hotel room, and the next thing Tony knew, he was buying tickets to Universal and standing in a Wizard’s clothing store, pretending to be a sorting hat.

“Peter is without a doubt a Hufflepuff,” he said, yanking a pair of Hufflepuff house robes off a rack, and seeing as how there was no other option for a boy like Peter, he accepted with a smile and a nod.

Tony sorted Pepper into Ravenclaw and himself in Gryffindor, leaving just the youngest. His hand hovered between shelves, then moved towards a set of Slytherin children’s robes.

“You went to the dark side,” Tony told Morgan, dropping the robes into her hands. “You’re getting green.”

“Aw, dad,” said Morgan. “I only went to the dark side so Vader would let his guard down around me and then I could wait until he fell asleep and chop him up with my lightsaber.”

Tony, Pepper and Peter paused, the three of them trading looks.

“…ok,” said Tony, after a beat. He clapped his hands together. “You’re still getting the green.”

Morgan shrugged. “MJ always says you gotta keep your enemies close.”

“That doesn’t say great things about your relationship, kid.” Tony clapped Peter on the shoulder and headed towards the check-out counter.

“Guess what dad?” asked Morgan. She did an excited jump and didn’t wait for him to guess. “Peter and MJ kiss!”

“Morgan!” whined Peter.

“Oh really?” asked Tony, giving Peter a smirk, watching his ears go pink.

“Yeah! I saw them during Aunt May and Uncle Happy’s wedding, behind Gerald’s house. They gave me candy to go away and keep it a secret.”

“Which technically you should give back now!”

“Too late,” said Morgan. “Already gone.”

Peter growled under his breath and Tony put his arm around him. “Relax kid, everyone already knows you two kiss. Even Gerald.”

Tony paid for their robes, which they all put on immediately, before heading out of the shop and into the cobblestoned streets of Diagon Alley. Tony stretched his arm around Peter, while he continued to grumble about lack of privacy and snitches while Morgan mocked him.  

It was another beautiful day, a perfect day to be dressed like a wizard with his family, and the future stretched on with the promise of many more.  

[batfamily-trash]

Don’t Need Them To Save You

Summary: Jason and Reader go out on date (Movie, dinner, romantic stuff) when the Riddler decides to kidnap the reader because why not. Instead of going to the Batfam for help he goes solo

Warning: Language I think, blood, being buried alive

Part 1 of 2 

Date nights with Jason were the best nights. All the stress of being a vigilante goes down the drain while you two were together. But particularly tonight, you weren’t in the mood for a date. Bruce had assigned you a case and you were determined to solve it.

Jason tried every single way he knew to bribe you so you could leave whatever you were working on for another night. Tonight he wanted to spend the rest of the day with you. Whether you liked it or not; you needed a break. The case could wait. Jason… not so much.

Eventually, you agreed to go on the date with him. It took a lot of bribing but you finally accepted. As long as it wasn’t something to fancy or public; cause recently you’ve been getting a lot of attention from the paparazzi. A con of being friends with the Wayne family.

After you had gotten ready, Jason took you to the movie theater to see a movie you have been wanting to watch since it was announced. And you had an amazing time!

Once the movie finished you thought the date was over but Jason had something else planned for you.

By the time you and Jason left the movie theater, it was 8 pm. The moon was already up and shining brightly in the night sky. In all your years of living in Gotham, you didn’t take the time to admire it. Gotham could be a beautiful city most of the time.

You took a deep breath of air before putting on your motorcycle helmet and climbing on behind Jason.

“Are you ready princess/prince?” He asked you.

“Yeah,” You said wrapping your arms around him. Jason then revved the motorcycle engine and took down the street.

You enjoyed motorcycle rides with Jason. They were calm and peaceful. Occasionally. Sometimes they were filled with adrenaline and danger. It just depended on the occasion and if you and Jay were late for something. Which was almost always. Distractions were everywhere.

Just as you felt your worries go away you saw a white van with a bright green question mark pulling up next to you guys.

“Shit,” you cursed. Apparently, someone didn’t like you. Jason quickly glanced over his shoulder and sped up once he saw the van. Whoever was driving the van was not going to give up easily.

Everytime you and Jay seemed to be safe the van would just appear out of nowhere. Eventually, Jason lead them off the main streets to lose them quicker. Little did he know that that’s what your pursuers wanted. Just as Jason was taking a turn towards an alley, multiple cars showed up and surrounded you.

Jason pulled out a gun he always kept on him, but before he could unlock the safety someone shot it out of his hand. You turned to look behind you and saw the Riddler himself.

“Well if it isn’t y/n l/n and her boy toy,” Ed said walking towards you. You glared at Ed while Jason somehow pulled you closer to him. He was tense and nervous. So were you. “Loverboy why don’t you let y/n go and go away.”

“Why don’t you and you’re posse go piss off someone else?” Jason retorted. Riddler smirked and signaled for his men. Some guys pulled out guns and aimed them at you and Jason while some tried, keyword tried, to pull you away from him.

“Either you stop struggling and cooperate or we kill you. Your choice,” Riddler said twirling his cane around. You stopped struggling in fear of them shooting Jason and gave him a pleading look when you saw that he wasn’t going to stop. At this point, Ed’s henchmen had taken your helmet off and threw it somewhere.

“Jason! Just stop! Leave him alone!” you shouted. Jason stopped for a second and caught your gaze. You were crying, you were scared. Scared for him; you didn’t want to lose him. And that second was long enough for someone to take a shot at him.

You screamed as they carried you to a van. Jason fell onto the ground. He tried to get up as the van took off but the rest of the henchmen that stayed behind began to beat him up. A minute later someone dropped down on two guys knocking them out while another person approached Jason just as he started to lose consciousness.

“Hey, Jason. Jason stay awak….”

After Riddler had Jason shot, he and his henchmen knocked you out. So you had absolutely no clue where you were. But you kinda got an idea when you woke up in an unclosed wooden box with Edward Nygma looking down at you.

“What the hell?”

“Ah, good afternoon y/n! Now before I finish my magnificent plan answer me this,” Riddler started. “A vivid reality, a naked morality, a place where wishes come true. What am I?”

Seriously? You thought. You sighed and answered, “Is it a dream?”

“So you’re not as stupid as I thought,” he said. You scoffed and propped yourself onto your elbows.

“No shit Sherlock,” you said glaring at him. Ed grinned and shoved you back into the box. “Now-now-now, we can’t have you escaping yet, so do me a favor and stay still for a minute.”

Before you could protest, someone handed Ed his cane which he used to knock you out. Ed took a step back and pulled a video camera out of his pocket and handed it to one of his men. “Put this in there. Make sure it’s on and that it’s facing them. After that put the top on and finish the job,” he said sternly.

“Yes sir,” the henchman said taking the camera. Ed smiled and walked back to his car. This was going to be fun! Now all he had to do was to get ready for the show.

Jason woke up with a start. He frantically scanned the room for your presence, silently praying that the events from earlier that day were just a nightmare. When he saw Duke he calmed down a bit.

“What… where’s y/n?” Jason asked worriedly.

“We’re trying to find them,” Duke answered.

“We?”

“Cass, and Barbara….”

“Wait, where am I?” He asked. He tried to get up but the pain on his side stopped him.

“You’re in my apartment. I figured you wouldn’t want to go to the Batcave,” Barbara said walking into the room. “And don’t get up, you’re going to pull your stitches.”

Jason grumbled something before attempting to get up again. This time he managed to through the pain. “I’m not going to rest until I find y/n.”

Barbara sighed and walked out of the room, Duke following behind her. Jason hissed as he walked out after them. He blamed himself for letting them take you.

Once he got to the living room, Duke told him everything they had figured out while he was knocked out. Which wasn’t much. Riddler had it out for you, but no one knew why. Well, not yet.

“Do you guys have a location for Riddler?” Jason asked.

“No, but I have a program going through every security footage in the city looking for the van they escaped in,” Babs said, barely looking up from her laptop.  Jason sighed and sat down next to Duke who was currently looking for any signs of you and the Riddler on social media.

“Guys turn on the tv,” Duke said. Jason looked at him confused but obliged. The first thing that showed up when he turned the tv on was Edward Nygma himself.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen! Today’s occasion is the funeralof y/n l/n! That’s right Bruce Wayne’s lovely friend.”

The screen changed from Ed to you panicking in your makeshift coffin. Immediately it changed back to a smiling Riddler.

Jason got up and walked backed to the bedroom in anger. “Jason, what are you doing?” Duke asked.

“I’m going for y/n,” Jason answered retrieving his clothes.

“Jason you are in no condition to go out there!” Barbara exclaimed. Jason knew she was right, but right now nothing mattered but getting you.

“Don’t care.”

“At least let us help,” Duke said.

“No offense Duke but I’d rather do this myself besides isn’t it past your bedtime?” Jason said making his way out of the apartment through the window. Duke and Barbara tried to convince him to stay put but failed.

“What do we do?” Duke asked.

“We inform Bruce and everyone else, and stay out of his way for now,” Barbara answered going back for her computer, “He’ll need our help at some point.”

Jason repeated the riddle multiple times. Until he had it memorized. What has branches and leaves and no bark?

He thought about the answer for a bit before taking off to the Gotham Library. It was a simple riddle really, not hard enough. As a teen, you would go to the library almost every day. That’s where you met Jason, so of course, the Riddler was going to choose the library for a riddle.

Once in the library, Jason began looking for the next riddle. It didn’t take him long to find something that didn’t belong. He crept towards the lonely phone on one of the tables and turned it on.

“Congratulations Mr. Wayne! You’ve completed my first riddle! Now for the second riddle, What won’t run long without winding?” the prerecorded video said, “You only have twenty minutes.

When the video finished Jason shattered the phone and cursed. The riddle was easy considering the Riddler was using riddles that have been used before. The problem was which one? Couldn’t Riddler be more specific considering there are about 7 different rivers in Gotham?

All Jason knew was that the riddles were meant for Bruce and the riddles had something to do with you. The only connection you had with a river was the time you and Jay went Channel Park and Damian had “accidentally” pushed into the East River. That’s where the next riddle would be.

Riddler had given “Bruce” twenty minutes to find the next riddle and Jason had spent five minutes figuring out which river. Now all he had to do was get there in time.

[artemisegeria]

The Picture of the Mind Revives Again (2/?)

Title: The Picture of the Mind Revives Again (2/?)

Rating: T

Word count: 2025

Warnings: None

Summary: Sequel to “A Formula, A Phrase Remains.” Title is from “Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey” by William Wordsworth.

Vision has gone missing after Shuri, Bruce, and Helen revived him. Now they must tell Wanda what they did without her knowledge.

 Wanda was furious.

She was sitting in the cockpit of the Quinjet with Carol. She was forcefully reminded of the first time she’d flown with Carol to Wakanda. Except that time, she was still at the beginning of her grieving process and she didn’t know Carol at all. Now Wanda could not speak to her because Carol was one of her best friends and she had hidden this from her. They had sat in silence for a few hours.

Carol finally made an attempt to speak to her. “I understand why you’re giving me the silent treatment, but we all meant well.”

“I would think you would understand how little good intentions mean in a case like this.” Wanda knew this wasn’t the same as Carol’s situation with the Kree, but her hurt and confusion made her want to lash out.

“Look, Wanda, I’m sorry, but they practically begged me to stay quiet about this. It made sense to me when they explained what they were trying to do. They had good reason to believe something might go wrong.”

“Maybe I could have helped if they had told me.” She could have at least been there to ease Vision’s confusion. Maybe seeing her first thing would have helped him.

“Maybe, but we can’t go back in time.” Wanda and Carol both winced at Carol’s accidental wording. That had been a bone of contention before Steve returned the Stones to their proper places. Why couldn’t they just go back in time to fix everything? It had taken hours to convince those that had not lived through the five years between the Snaps that such a solution was not possible. “I’ll get you there as soon as possible.” Wanda nodded and fell silent.

Shuri, Bruce, and Helen met them when they landed. Some of Wanda’s anger had faded, but she could feel it simmering just beneath the surface. Still, they had worked for over a year to bring back the love of her life. That deserved some consideration.

Carol left them to return to her post in New York. Wanda thanked her for flying her there. She needed some time to get over her sense of betrayal, but perhaps she had overreacted a bit. Carol gave them a final jaunty wave and lifted off.

***

Wanda stood in the middle of Shuri’s lab. Their search had still not revealed any trace of Vision. The cameras recording the process of his revival showed him standing up and leaning against a wall before fading outside. Wanda ached to see the clear distress and confusion on his face, but it did not explain why he just left. Unless he thought the battle in Wakanda was still ongoing. But a search of the forest outside the city had not unearthed any clues either. Even if he was confused, he should soon realize that things had changed.

“How long has he been missing?”

“As long as it took you to get here.” Hours. That means he had been gone for hours. What if something was wrong with the solution that Shuri developed? What if he was injured and in pain?

“Please go over what happened one more time.” Wanda needed to understand everything.

Shuri answered, “We started the upload of his consciousness once his body was fully repaired. The scan showed that it had several hours left before the process was complete, so we felt that it was safe to leave him when we were called away for a time. When we returned, he was gone. The Dora who was stationed outside the lab did not hear anything when he woke up.”

“I know what ‘lost’ means, thank you,” Wanda snapped. “What I mean is how is that possible? You told me that you buried him. You said you had tried everything you could and failed. You said Stark’s notes had not provided the answers.”

“I lied. I am sorry, Wanda, but we were not sure that we would succeed. Bruce, Helen, and I agreed that this was the best way to proceed, but it was my idea at first. Do not blame them.”

“Fine. Just go on, please.” She had far more important things to worry about right now.

“When we returned, the scan from the Cradle indicated that his brain was operational, but he was nowhere to be found. We have been searching for him since that point.”

“How far could he have gone? He is a little recognizable.” Wanda tried to control her anger and panic. She should be thanking Shuri for doing what she had come to believe was impossible. Instead, all she could see was Vision scared and confused somewhere in Wakanda.

“We do not know. None of the palace guards saw him, and we have not heard of any sightings in the city. We have sent people outside to the battlefield and the forest as well.”

Wanda ran her hands through her hair, heedless of how she was messing it up. “I don’t understand why he hasn’t tried reaching out to someone.” Her, why he didn’t contact her.

“I do not know, but we will continue searching, Wanda. We won’t stop until we have him back and can determine what he needs.”

“I’m going to the forest to take another look.” She thought it would be the most likely place Vision would go if he were trying to help with the battle that he must think was still ongoing. No one tried to stop her. Wanda passed into the denser part of the forest. After some minutes of calling for Vision, hoping against hope that he would just descend in front of her, she was overcome by all the emotions she had gone through during the last few hours. From shock to hope to rage to joy to confusion. She let herself sob for a time, but then she moved on.

She explored the forest for several hours longer before giving up. She was wrung out and exhausted. When she made her way back to Shuri’s lab, she noted that everyone was struggling to stay awake while they pored over models and security footage. Wanda’s heart softened and her anger did not re-emerge. They were working themselves to death for Vision’s sake. She finally suggested that they all go to bed and get a fresh start in the morning.

Okoye led her to a guest bedroom. Wanda collapsed without even bothering to undress, only peeling off her boots.

***

When they recongregated in the lab the next day, Okoye reported that some of the Dora Milaje had taken shifts exploring throughout the night, but they had not been successful. There was no trace of him. Neither had Shuri’s search of the security footage revealed anything.

Wanda could not imagine how Vision could disappear so utterly or why he wouldn’t have tried to contact her by now unless something was terribly wrong. By lunchtime, they still had not come up with a good solution. Wanda left the others after swallowing down a few quick bites.

She explored the palace as she had not been able to do the first time she was here. She thought that Vision would love the artwork and the architecture. Thinking of him renewed her determination to find him. As Wanda was pacing the halls, trying to think of where to search for Vision next, her phone buzzed with a new text alert. Oddly enough, it did not show a sending number. It only said, “Check your email, please.”

Wanda frowned. She had an official Avengers email account, as everyone else on the team did, but she hardly ever looked at it. The messages she received there ranged from fan mail to questionable requests to death threats that were automatically flagged by the renewed SHIELD to gauge their seriousness. This sounded like a potential scheme to get by the account’s safeguards, polite wording or no. But something told her to follow the instructions regardless.

When she pulled up her email, the first message she saw also had no subject line and no sender. She opened it. She almost expected to have to explain why she opened such a message without showing it to the IT people first, but nothing happened. Somewhat relieved, she scrolled down and began to read.

My dearest Wanda,

I apologize that my abrupt departure from Princess Shuri’s lab caused you distress. I am well. I was not thinking very clearly when I returned to consciousness. My only thought was to rejoin the battle, only to find that the last battle ended over a year ago, and the one I was trying to rejoin over six years ago.

There was so much information to absorb about the last six years. I hid in the forest on the outskirts of the city and scanned what I could from the internet. I am still adjusting to the absence of the Mind Stone, though Shuri’s replacement seems to have restored most of my powerset.

I feel that I must be on my own for a time. I worried that if I spoke to you again, I would not be able to leave you. Please forgive me for my selfishness. I was never able to truly become myself during the first three years of my life. I was so focused on the team and keeping you safe, which I do not regret for a moment, that I forgot to think of what I truly wanted from the life that I was granted. I feel that now is the time to do so.

I have seen your pictures throughout my time alone. It fills me with more joy than I can express that you have built such a strong life for yourself and rejoined the team. I hope that you will welcome me back to become part of it again after I have completed my journey.

If you wish to contact me, you may reply to this message at any time. It will reach me. If you need me for any reason, I will be there.

All my love,

Vision

Wanda sank back against the wall for a moment. She almost thought it was someone’s idea of a sick joke, but it sounded so like him. And it was all of a piece with Shuri’s explanation of what happened immediately before Vision was found missing.

She let the tears stream down her face as she read the message several more times. Part of her wanted to be selfish and beg him to come back immediately. But when she thought about it a little longer, she realized that she could not deny him this chance. It was exactly what she had wished for when she was saying goodbye. Moreover, Wanda’s own time on the run, though undertaken under the worst circumstances, had granted her more strength than any other period in her life, aside from the previous year. She had learned greater control and confidence that endured to this day.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda started to compose her reply.

Vizh,

You’ve got to be more careful how you word your letters. I need you always.

But I understand why you have to do this. Take as long as long as you need, and I’ll wait for you.

Let me know if you have any questions.

Wanda paused at this point. Her message was a paltry sample of what she really wanted to tell Vision, but she thought if she started writing out all her thoughts, she would never stop. The lines of communication were at least open. They could contact each other if need be.

She considered how to sign off. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but it didn’t feel right to do so by email. They needed to have a real conversation. He needed to hear her voice to believe that she wasn’t simply returning the sentiment because he had said it first.

She settled on:

I’m so happy you’re back.

Wanda

It wasn’t enough, but there would be time to say more later. She rose to go find Shuri and T’challa and get them to call off the search.

  A/N: In the next chapter, Vision does some more exploring.

A word of warning, this was the last of the chapters that I’ve had partially or mostly written for a while. So the next chapter will definitely take longer than my last few updates, but hopefully sooner than two months.

[twice-the-twice-love]

He should be able to do this (manga spoilers)

Jin trying to fix mistakes, even if it would make things hard for him he has to learn at one time or another. Right? 

Angst warning. Mentions of character death.

Twice sat in the motel he was practically- practically? No he was living here. He was in his motel room looking at the world around him his tiny corner of the universe.

He rolled a set of sunglasses in his hands. The inorganic material didn't get overhauled in the end it seemed. He swallowed on that thought his thumb wiping at a spot on the glass itself. He looks away realizing he lost time and was distracted once again afraid of what he was going to try but something had to be done. One last thing before he starts writing a note in a small journal in the mess of a room. Giran said it could help keep track of things.

Isn't our life like a blip in the cosmic calendar or something? So that's what we are, a blip? Not even. Here one blip, gone the next. Makes me hate myself that I've already gotten used to the idea of her not being here. In a year I'll maybe think about her every once and a while. Then they'll become an anecdote, a thing to say. I knew someone who died." With the added bonus, "She died because of me." Maybe I should hate myself. But if I can do one thing right it might make up for something.

Putting the pen down and going to the middle of the room. Off of image. He made clones off of image get that and he could do that.

Jin remembered all the data he gathered on her. Shoe size, pants inseam length, chest, waist, wrist, arm length. All the data he needed to do this. Honestly he had planned to try and work on a new villain costume for her as a surprise.

So he didn't have all the details and data needed. He shuffled back and forth on his feet, getting all and any police footage from Giran he could piece together the rest with the data he had.

It had been a few weeks since he led Overhaul to the base. But Jin knew he could clone her. He wouldn't care if he could never clone anything again he was useless to Shigaraki anyways. But to get her back would be worth it all. Get the family back together.

Jin calmed his nerves pulling his mask onto his head repeating the numbers that made Magne up. Raising both arms he focused on her looks. Smile that took a man off his feet. How easily she held her weapon to go daintyly she helped toga with nails.

Taking a breath out he started to use his quirk. Trying to make a double of her.

Last point of contact was 2 days before bringing Overhaul in. Quick meeting outside of his apartment. They chatted. She brought Jin a fresh pack of smokes and checked in on him. What real friends did, she talked about some guys she saw and some possible recruits she found and was thinking of bringing them over after a bit more scouting.

Then only her and Toga could have done it. Convinced him to take a photo together. Because they let him wear the mask for it. But Twice surprised her with a friendly kiss on the cheek to match the kissy face she made. That was a good surprise as he pulled the mask back down and got a kiss on the cheek back.

Jin seared the memory into his mind and he could see her shoes and the pants with legs forming. This was working slow and steady but it was working!

The mass destabilized and he cursed as he let it stop grabbing a towel to clean up the mess. Sitting on the couch after to go over his notes and photos reciting everything back again and again. 15 minutes passed as he did this before being ready to try again.

He held his arms out once again and went over the numbers. He thought over her image and started to create the base for a clone of Magne. Her shoes were right no imperfections moving up her legs. He smiled at how this was going to work.

Slow and steady there was more and more of Magne. Then came the waist. Thats when Jin felt the goop stop flowing as freely from his hands and he swore under his breath, "Fuck no come on."

The goop stopped and Magne was not there above the waist. Jin shook his hands and tried to hold onto her legs to help her, "Wheres the rest of you?"

The legs destabilized and melted in Jins hands. He looked out at the goop shaking breaths and grabbed the already damp with goop towel to clean up. Looking around the apartment once again.

The glasses. No.

Last point of contact. If she had any blood on the glasses. He asked for toga to clean them off to avoid this. He wouldn't be able to bring her back if the last point of contact was after she died. He swallowed on his fear and pushed it out of his mind. He was just imagining this. No Toga cleaned the glasses off. It was his fear holding him back again. Nothing else. He had to do this.

He sat and had a smoke on the couch looking at the dirty towel and then to the glasses. Sitting forwards to grab them he stopped right in front of them to see if there was something on it. Anything to show that he was missing something there.

He had to have misses something in the end. He was sure of it. But there was nothing he could see on the glasses. So he steeled his breath. This is the last time he could try before he would have to accept he failed her even in death.

Clear his mind. Ignore the other half beating you down. Measurements. Arms out. Try again.

Jin paused at that last command to himself. Try again. He just had to do something right for once. He just had to clone her right. He just had to. He missed her.

He didn't know if he could do it. His hands shook while they extended. The image of her body exploding seared into his mind. Trying to force it out didn't work he tore off his mask throwing it to the other side of his motel room and just wanted to scream in frustration. At everything in the world not going right for her. It wasn't fair.

[carmenxjulia]

You Never Did Get My Name Ch5

Title: You Never Did Get My Name, Chapter 5

Description: ✓ Date: set. ✓ Friend: worried. ✓ Feelings: confusing.

[Read on AO3]

"You agreed to what?!"

Carmen flinched at the volume of the voice in her earpiece. She was lounging on the couch in her hotel suite, evaluating her recently freed arm. Since meeting with Julia, she'd been able to get her cast off, and was working to build back the muscle that had atrophied during her recovery. She'd also decided to casually mention her future plans with the agent to her best friend and confidant.

"It's just dinner, Player."

"Dinner at her house. This is seriously dangerous, Red."

"It's actually an apartment."

Player inhaled sharply. He certainly wasn't happy about this latest development, and Carmen was unnervingly calm about the whole thing. Unsurprisingly, her nonchalance failed to put the young hacker at ease. "Did you forget Julia works for a government agency that's trying to take you down?"

"Are they, though? Obviously, it's still Chase Devineaux's top priority, but we don't actually know what A.C.M.E.'s motives are."

"Or what A.C.M.E. even is. You should have checked if Julia had a keycard!"

"Player, I told you, I can't."

"Why not? You've never had a problem taking things from an enemy before. It would really help us to have some information on this mysterious group Chase is working for. Considering Julia Argent is still his partner, safe to say they're both still on the same team. We could know what team that is by now," Player hinted at his annoyance.

"That's just it. I don't think Jules is my enemy. Chase Devineaux would have definitely set a trap for me during our first encounter, but she didn't."

"Maybe Julia is smarter than that and she knew you'd suspect something. Maybe the trap is your second encounter."

Carmen groaned on the other end of the line, trying to figure out how she could convince her oldest friend that Julia was more or less harmless. She stood and began to pace as she attempted to come up with a reasonable way to refute Player's fears. But the more she thought about this entire situation, the less she could rationalize it.

Their casual interaction on the train was the start. It had been easy for Carmen to infer Julia was working with Chase, judging from the use of partner- specifically, "travel partner"- and the C.D. initials from the suitcase she'd noticed sitting on the adjacent seat. While Chase had easily picked her out among the other passengers, Julia appeared to be totally oblivious in her presence. Carmen couldn't blame her, though. They'd never had a close encounter, and Julia was a new detective with nothing to go off of except candid photos and blurry video footage.

After that, Julia had been daring enough to use the number Carmen had left for her. It took weeks, and, surprisingly, the call didn't come from someone at Interpol or A.C.M.E. If Julia had told anyone in her agency about the contact point, no doubt they would have wanted to act immediately. Tracking wouldn't have worked, Player had made sure of that. But contact would have been made sooner. Somehow, there was nothing strange or unnatural in the way Julia had spoken. No indication she was working with others or trying to set a trap or pry as much information as possible from someone who, as far as she was concerned, was a wanted criminal. With her training, Carmen was pretty good at deducing when someone was toying with her, and in talking with Julia, she didn't feel she was being deceived or manipulated. Not on the phone, and not even in person.

Their meetup had been so ordinary. So normal. And when Carmen laid down the ground rule that they weren't to discuss work, Julia respected it. She didn't protest the boundaries Carmen set, the things she was vague about or the topics she declined to speak of. Whereas Chase always threatened to arrest her, Julia was content to chat and have coffee sitting right across from her. It didn't make sense, but then, neither did her decision to leave Julia a way to get in touch with her. Everything was based on a feeling, one Carmen couldn't rationalize or justify.

It should have sent up a red flag, a dozen red flags, when Julia invited her to her own home. But instead, it made Carmen appreciate her openness. Player was right to be cautious. They'd always had to be cautious before, with everyone. But they'd learned to trust Ivy and Zack, so why didn't their little team have room for one more? Maybe not as an official member; but some sort of ally on the other side of the law wouldn't be so bad. Funny, how that hadn't been her plan all along and the idea was just now occurring to her.

Her invitation had seemed spontaneous, not planned or premeditated, like she'd come to the café with the intention of capturing her at a later date. Even if she had, there was no guarantee Carmen would accept the invitation, which would make setting a trap at a second meeting a risk. A risk Interpol, and likely this new agency Julia was working with, wouldn't be willing to take. It was still possible, but not nearly as likely.

When it boiled down to it, Carmen only had a feeling to go on that Julia's intentions were sincere, with no hidden malicious motives. She had, so far, given Carmen no reason to suspect her of plotting something, aside from her obvious association with Chase and previous association with Interpol. Maybe it was because she was so fresh and new, that she was willing to give Carmen a chance at all. A chance at what, she wasn't sure. Perhaps a chance to make a case for her not-so-sinister misdeeds? It was certainly more than any other law enforcement official had given her before.

"It's complicated," was all she managed to come up with. Because it was.

"Doesn't sound complicated to me. This date is a ruse and you're walking into a trap," Player's eye roll was almost audible.

"You don't know that-"

"You don't know that it's not."

"We can trust her."

"Why? Why do you think that?"

"Did you say this was a date?"

"Don't try to deflect the question."

"Not a date, don't call it that."

"I'll call Zack and Ivy if you don't take some precautions."

Carmen smiled to herself, leaning against the back of the couch. It was nice to have someone care about her wellbeing and safety, not just for the sake of a mission, but because they were genuinely worried about her. More importantly, Player was wearing down. This next meeting wasn't something she was going to budge on. Trap or not, with or without Player's approval, she was going. But he was right, taking some precautions would definitely be wise.

"We've already been over the location," Carmen confirmed. "It's a personal apartment, one Julia's been renting since before she started working for Interpol. The chance of a direct connection is slim to none. The property is privately owned, not managed by Interpol or some other secret agency. Sounds pretty ordinary."

"Could still be a cover," Player didn't sound convinced.

"Or it could just be the place she goes home to after work. Most people have those. Pretty standard, normal stuff."

"Since when have you been into "standard, normal stuff" Red?"

"My entire life has been everything except normal. Maybe I want a change."

"Hello? Yeah, someone seems to have replaced my friend, Carmen Sandiego the super thief, with a very unconvincing doppelganger."

"Very funny, Player. Being laid up gave me time to think. I didn't have a typical childhood. And even now, I'm not exactly living a typical adulthood, either. But V.I.L.E. won't be around forever, and when they give up or disband or maybe even die off, what do I do then? Where will I go? What will I do?"

"I always figured you'd cross that bridge when you got to it."

"So did I. But you know me, I always have to have a plan. I guess some part of me wants to be ready for that eventuality. Even if it's years away. What's my next move when there's no more V.I.L.E.?"

"That's great, Red. So what does Julia have to do with finding yourself?"

"She lives that normal life I might have someday. I can learn from her."

"And you picked an Interpol agent to learn from, why?"

"She seemed available at the time."

"Available, huh?"

"Yes. Available. And despite being a government agent, she was willing to sit down and talk-"

Player's snicker on the other end of the line did not escape Carmen's keen ears.

"What is so funny?"

"You're sure this isn't a date? I get it if you don't want me to know, and I think it's a really bad idea to go out with someone who's a potential threat. But you do like to live on the edge and it doesn't seem like I'm going to stop you. So just tell me the truth, Red."

"Player, we've had one conversation. One. Two if you count the first time we met. And I'm a wanted criminal. There's no way Julia would- Not that I'd want to either, I barely know her- Even if-"

"She's available?"

It all clicked into place. "That is NOT what I meant and I don't even know that for sure!"

"Real convincing, Red. Your motives are crystal clear. Clear as Karl."

"I'll tell you the truth, Player. The truth is, I don't know what this is, or where it's going. I don't know, I can't even figure it out for myself, and that's why it's so complicated."

"You trust her. And I trust you. If you really think it's safe, I won't bring it up anymore."

"No, you should be worried, and so should I. I… appreciate you looking out for me. I'll be sure to check in with you before I arrive, when I get there, and when I leave."

"And once during dinner."

"If I can, without Julia suspecting anything. She doesn't know you exist, and I'd rather keep it that way."

"Good to see you haven't lost all sense," Player joked.

"Not that I had much to begin with. I live life on the edge, remember? Playing by my own rules. Running from the law!"

"Having dinner with the law."

"Super edgy, I know."

"Just be careful. Don't let your guard down."

"I won't. I promise. Julia may seem harmless, but she has a secret organization backing her up. And if she isn't setting a trap, I'm going to find out what kind of person Julia Argent really is."

Support this and other stories! https://ko-fi.com/gemology

[tnystrk-exe]

Home 3

Tony Stark x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 End

Ro woke up when she heard the loud noises outside. The rumbling of distant thunder wasn’t enough to wake you, but it was enough to scare Ro. It sounded like there were scary monsters outside. Her little nightlight wouldn’t be enough to scare them away.

She grabbed her bear and ran into the hallway. Magic lights turned on by themselves, her daddy said he fixed them so that she’d be safe at nighttime. Daddy was always doing magic. She thought it was really cool. The lights flickered briefly, followed by a loud crack of thunder. Magic lights weren’t so cool anymore.

Quickly, she ran to your room, already crying loudly. Now, that was enough to wake you up. Ro wasted no time throwing herself into your arms the second you sat up. Mommy and daddy always kept her safe. They felt safe.

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” You asked, sleepily pressing a kiss to her head.

Ro sobbed into your chest, “Mommy, monster ou’side.”

“There’s monsters outside?” You rubbed her back, trying to soothe her, “That can’t be right.”

“They make lights off!” She jumped when the thunder struck again.

You hugged her tighter, “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you. I promise you’re safe. It’s not monsters because mommy and daddy made sure they all went to there houses far far away.”

Ro finally seemed to notice Tony’s absence, “Daddy take ‘em home?”

“Yes, he’s taking them home. They’re all very happy to go home. Wanna know what the sounds are?” She nodded and you explained thunderstorms to her.

“Sometime sky goes boom!” She said, still a bit shaken up, but noticeably tired. By this time the rain had noticeably slowed and the thunder stopped. “I don’ like it.”

Thirty minutes passed before you finally calmed her down enough to fall asleep. Her soft snoring filled the room and you couldn’t go back to sleep. Your mind drifted to Tony. Before he left, he told you about his recent test flight. He had said it was the greatest thrill he ever felt. There had been a small snag. The titanium steel plating was good, but it had the tendency to freeze at high altitudes.

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t go quiet on me. I’m good, we’re good. It’ll be okay next time,” he assured you in a calming tone, wrapping an arm around you, “I should have taken freezing into account but I didn’t. Gold titanium alloy won’t freeze. I already triple checked everything I looked over.” Tony looked over at Ro, who was fast asleep in her toddler’s flip sofa in front of the tv.

“Anything else happen during your flight?” You wondered, relaxed into him.

“Well, the baby probably shouldn’t pay a visit anytime soon. I kinda broke the house,” he admitted, feeling peaceful. This was one thing Tony couldn’t deny, knowing his kid was safe asleep for the night and having you in his arms was the most calming thing he had experienced.

You laughed, “Of course you did, how bad was it?”

“I managed to land myself on a weak structural point. There’s easy access from the living room to the lab, if you want me to install a pole instead of patching it all up,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes, “You gonna come home to me injured when you get your suit up and running. I can feel it.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, sweet pea.”

“Just calling it how I see it, honey.”

He left shortly afterward. Tony wanted to work more, all he needed to do was install the plates and paint the model. Both you and Ro had convinced him to stop working for the day and hang out with the two of you. The work he was doing was important to him and the people he planned to help. Still, you didn’t enjoy the idea of him overworking himself. Anytime you’d called or visited him, he was hard at work and didn’t take many breaks. Whenever Ro asked to visit, you’d make sure to make food before or pick something up because more than likely Tony skipped out on meals in favor of building his suit.

It was coming together, but he didn’t have to fall apart for the machine.

You had no clue where his future was heading. Tony was a driven man who obsessively updated his weapons before the kidnapping. Who knows how far he would go with it all now. There was a small part of you that was scared. How couldn’t you? It was bad enough having to worry about Rhodey when he was called to action. Adding Tony and his secret project to the mix was frightening. He wouldn’t have someone to back him up when things got rough. Tony was going to be a one man army on his own.

Sighing you decided it was time to wake up for the day. If there was anyone that could stress you out while not being present, it was Stark. You turned on the tv and started flipping through the channels. For once you finally had back to back off days, so you weren’t too worried about a lack of sleep.

How did he manage to always be on tv? You tried to remember if he said anything about an event, but you were sure he told you he had to lay low for a while.

“..Stark has finally come back into the public eye since he came back from Afghanistan,” the reporters voice played over footage of Tony on the red carpet, “The billionaire was said to have been bed ridden due to severe post traumatic stress, but, it seems like he’s already back to his playboy tactics with his assistant Pepper Potts.” A couple of blurry pictures of the two of them showed on screen, before showing him alone again, “It seems the fun was cut short after his conversation with Obadiah Stane, leaving us all wondering what went wrong? Next on the chopping block, best dre-.”

You cut the tv off and reached over for your phone, deciding to call Tony to see what was happening.

The phone rang for a beat before he answered, “Something happened to Ro?” He asked quickly, it was still early for either of you to be up on a free day.

“No, she’s fine. Are you okay?” If you listened closely, you could hear the sound of wind rushing past in the background.

He sighed, you could basically see his fake smile. “You know I am, cupcake. I’m fine as can be.”

“Come on, Tony, talk to me. Please?”

“...I can practically hear the pout in your voice.” He took a minute before starting. “Obadiah...It’s all him. He’s trying to push me out, selling my weapons under the table, and who knows what else he’s done in the dark.” There was a strain in his voice as he spoke, he coughed to cover it up.

You didn’t know how to respond. All you knew was Obadiah was like a makeshift father figure to Tony with the way he talked about the man. The only time you had seen him in person was at the Stark’s funeral. “You’re doing something about it?”

“I’m doing something about it,” he confirmed, grateful not to linger on the betrayal. “Right now, in fact.”

Thoughts buzzed in your head. What if the arc reactor failed? It was powering the whole suit, but most importantly it was keeping Tony alive. If it failed... You shook the thoughts from your head. “What are you doing?”

“Heading to Gulmira. The Ten Rings is terrorizing the families there. It’s all my fault, YN.”

You frowned, “It’s not your fault, Tony.”

“Yes, it is,” he muttered, “I should have been on top of this. All of it. It never should have gotten this far. Instead I was being a fucking dumb ass. This is all my fault. What was I doing?”

“Well for the past two years, you were being an amazing father to our daughter. Tones, weren’t being a dumb ass. You trusted someone you knew since you were a kid. That’s hardly doing anything to be ashamed of.”

“It was my responsibility, YN. At the end of it all, I was supposed to make sure the company was running everything the right way. If I watched, if I was paying attention, none of this would have happened.”

The two of you were at a stalemate. Both of you knew the other was right in a way, but it wasn’t enough to be fully convincing.

“Sir, we are approximately ten minutes from our destination,” J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted your silence.

“Thank you, J. That’s my cue to hang up, honey,” he said.

Your worry spiked, “Stay safe.”

Tony chuckled, mostly hoping to calm you, “What? No good luck kiss?”

“You can come back and get that from Pepper. Media is already on top of you with that by the way,” you told him teasingly.

“They think they’re on top of everything. I’m really closing in here, sweet pea.”

“I mean it, stay safe. I love you, Tony.”

“I love you. Tell Ro, I love her too.”

With that the line cut off.

It was hard to stay calm. He’d be okay. He had already came home once, he’ll do it again.

You watched Ro, sleeping calmly, no worries in the world. Laying back down, you pulled her into your arms. The thought of Ro during those three months was at the forefront of your mind. No way you could handle that again. All the tantrums and sadness were still fresh. She loved her father more than anything in the world.

Would Tony stop this when it was over? Probably not, you knew him. He’d probably find another way to use his new skills. You were proud of him, but this anxiety was something you’d have to become accustomed to if he continued.

A selfish part of you didn’t want him to keep going afterwards.

Each minute seemed to stretch out even longer. It didn’t feel possible to think of anything else other than Tony. Four hours passed. Since then Ro was already up and ready to play for the day. The rain had started again and she giggled watching raindrops race down a window pane before turning her attention back to her building blocks.

Your phone went off, blaring the similar rock track.

“It’s daddy! Daddy calling!” Ro sang, happily, ditching her toys and running over.

“Hello,” you answered, “How are you?”

“I’m okay. The Rings weren’t so bad, but the Air Force was a little rough.”

You did a double take, “Tony the Air Force?”

“Mommy, I talk to daddy please?” Ro asked, standing in her tiptoes, reaching for the phone.

“We’ll talk about it later. Let me talk with the kid for now.”

You handed over the phone, “Daddy! You took away all the monsters? Were they nice?”

“Yeah, monsters. Tell me again about the monsters. Dad’s feeling a little bit sleepy right now.”

“Silly, daddy,” Ro giggled, “Mommy said you took all the monsters to their home to be happy.”

“Yeah! I did, didn’t I?” He agreed quickly, “Sorry daddy’s a bit of a dunce. They’re very happy now. All of them are home safe and sound.”

“Were they scary?”

“No honey, they aren’t so scary. They’re actually very nice. How’s my little monster?” He asked, “Did you eat a good breakfast?”

“Mommy gave me a yummy banana muffin and a smoothie,” she answered, happily playing with her bear on the counter, “‘Ony Bear eat with me. Come home and play blocks with me, please daddy?”

“Ro, that sounds beautiful, but I can’t right now. I’m a little bit busy.”

“Don’t like you being busy,” Ro pouted, “You busy a lot.”

Tony felt guilty, “I promise I’ll make all the time in the world for you. Right now I’m just too far away.”

They talked a while longer before Ro handed you back the phone. She happily returned back to her toys.

“You really went up against the Air Force?”

“Yeah, I broke one of Rhodey’s toy planes. He says I owe him, but they shot at me. What do you think?” He spoke quickly, hoping to push past your fears.

You sighed, accepting what had happened. He was safe. What more could you ask? “I think you’re going to buy him another one. It’s Rhodey, how are you going to say no to him? There’s at least three people I know of that can get you to do whatever they want.”

“You’re probably right, but just for that I’m gonna take extra long before I replace it. Blame yourself.”

“Hey, that’s no fair to the Colonel,” you chided him, “Just don’t do what I want you to do for a week and we’ll call it even.”

“Make it three.”

“Two,” you negotiated.

“Hmm,” he playfully thought it over, “You got yourself a deal.”

“How did your first run at things go?”

“I think it went pretty well, besides the run in with Rhodey’s boys. I destroyed all the weapons I could find. Let the people have a go at the guy I saw the most. There’s still loose ends to tie up.”

You nodded, “You’re going to do great, Tony. Though I do want you over here as soon as possible so I can give you a once over.”

“Sure thing, beautiful,” he chuckled. “Give me a couple of hours, won’t you?”

-

Tony made good on his promise to see you, it wasn’t right away, but you weren’t complaining. Life was busy for the both of you. While J.A.R.V.I.S. was tasked with repairs and Pepper was getting somethings from Stark Industries, he found time to come over. Ro played doctor while you checked over him. Soon enough various parts of him were covered in Captain America and Hello Kitty bandaids. You laughed softly, watching him pull her onto his lap and press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Rugrat, you’re already taking care of me so well,” he praised the little girl, “I was really hurt.”

She smiled proudly and pressed her toy stethoscope to his mouth. “Daddy ahhh!”

“Ahhh!” He humored her, “So docs? What’s the diagnosis?”

“You’re fine and primed to annoy me for a long time,” you answered, packing up your supplies.

“You think I’m fine?” He asked, smirking at you.

You rolled your eyes, unable to keep a small smile at bay, “What do you think Doctor Ro? Is daddy healthy or sick?”

“Daddy, um, he really sick and needs to play with me,” she responded seriously.

He feigned fear, “Is that the only cure?”

Ro nodded, “...Yes.”

With that the two of them ended up on the floor. Building blocks scattered around as they started making a castle for ‘Ony Bear. While they were busy, you got ready for the night shift and packed Ro an over night bag. The sound of Ro’s laughter echoed through the home. It was nice when the three of you got to play family. Everything about it felt right.

That was something you probably shouldn’t even think about. As much as you had wanted to, there was a big risk. If you and Tony were together it wasn’t just the two of you that would be hurt anymore. The track record was proof that things never went well. She couldn’t lose Tony. There was no was you were going to screw that up for her. You couldn’t.

“What’s got you thinking so much?” Tony asked, stepping over and taking packing her bag from you.

“Hmm?” You were pulled out of your thoughts, “Nothing, I was thinking about a surgery I have to handle today.”

He looked at you, before stuffing some random toys into the bag. “Is it a tough one?”

“Yeah, kind of, it’s a hard call to make.”

“In my experience, and I’ll never say this again, you’re usually right. Go with whatever it is you’re thinking. More than likely it’s the right way to go. Someone doesn’t like it, fuck ‘em,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek, “Why don’t you go say bye to Ro and I’ll take her to Mrs. Herrera’s? Get that kid of ours out of your hair for a bit. It will give you some time to rest before work.”

“Yeah, Tones. That would be nice.” You gave him a tired smile.

“Don’t be so worried, YN. You always make the right calls,” he said, following you into the living room. “Rugrat, time to go. Say bye to mom.”

Ro ran over to give you a hug, “Bye bye mommy. I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart. Be good for me okay?” You kissed her cheek.

“Yes, mommy.” She walked over to Tony, lifting her arms up.

He picked her up, “Do I have to be good for you too?”

“Even more than Ro. I don’t wanna hear anything about billionaire geniuses on the news tomorrow morning.”

“I think, I can manage that.”

You watched them leave. Tony had, unbeknownst signed off on throwing away a future. He was right, going with your gut was usually the way to go. Overthinking usually resulted in the worst case scenario. You were torn, but the possibility and risks of failure outweighed the success.

Besides, that picture of Tony and Pepper came up in your mind. They looked...cute? There was a small bout of jealousy in your chest, you were adult enough to admit it. These feelings had to be remnants from days past and seeing him interact with your daughter. Anyone could have been swept off their feet with those two components. Time had past, he and pepper had grown close. They were good for one another. She definitely knew how to handle him. You needed to make more of an effort to get to know Pepper. If Tony did take that step, she’d be apart of your and Ro’s lives a lot more often.

You needed to get your mind off of Tony. The hospital was the easiest way to do just that. Getting there early you got a head start on your rounds. Soon enough time came for your patient’s surgery. Helping people was easy as breathing, it cleared out your head. Fortunately, as long as the surgery took it had been a success.

“How does it feel being the doctor with the highest success rate here?” Sebastian asked, while the two of you rested for a minute.

You raised a brow, “You and I are always partnered up. Our success rate is the same.”

“Take the compliment,” he groaned, throwing one of his chips at you.

“We should start planning out the next one.”

“Sounds good,” you said, tossing him a file, “I handled the last one, what should we do this time?”

The two of you went through procedures. It was a cycle of approving ideas and giving the other a look that asked “Are you an idiot?”

“Hey,” Gabe popped his head in the door, “Everyone is on duty. Some freak accident happened near Stark Industries. Something about two robots fighting on a highway and a building exploded. We’ve got a couple of people needing surgeries coming in. Boss assigned you two to a guy that was thrown off a motorcycle into traffic.” Gabe gave the run down before popping back out.

“YN, call him,” Sebastian knew Tony was a close friend, “Then I need you to be a robot for a little while. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, yeah. I can. Just let me process.” You pulled out your phone and dialed Tony. The line was dead each time you called. “You know I asked him to make no news headlines.”

“And you can scream at him when you see him, first thing,” Sebastian put a hand on your shoulder, leading you to where you needed to be, “Getting yelled by you is worth it. Come on, we need to get prepared.”

This surgery wasn’t as smooth sailing as the one prior. No planning time, your head wasn’t as clear as you’d like, and there were so many things going wrong. Seven hours in, doctors scattering like ants in and out to help in there specific fields throughout the surgery. It took a while longer before you and Sebastian were sure all that could have been done was. Sebastian stitched him up.

“You shouldn’t drive right now, YN. You’re running on low charge and worried,” Sebastian glanced at you.

You shook your head, “I need to pick up the baby and I need to talk to Tony. I’ll be fine, Seb.”

“What are the odds of me convincing you to take a nap?”

“Slim to none.”

“Just call me when you get home. So I know you’re safe.”

“That I can do.”

Picking up Ro didn’t take so long. She was just  hardly awake and fell back asleep in her car seat. You took a chance and called Tony’s phone again.

“Hey, Cupcake. How was the surgery?”

“God, you’re a dick,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, “It went fine. Are you okay?”

“I’m the same annoyance to you as ever, just slightly bruised. I’ll pass by later and you can fret over me then, right now I have a press conference and a cover story to handle. See you soon.”

After a quick call to Sebastian, you and Ro fell back asleep quickly in your room. It wasn’t until you felt the bed dip that you woke back up, pressing your sleeping daughter against you protectively.

“Calm, Mama Bear, it’s just me,” Tony assured you, quietly, “How’d you get her to sleep so long?”

“Herrera keeps her up late during my night shifts,” you mumbled sleepily. “What happened?”

Tony laid down, his hands behind his head. “It’s not important right now, get some rest.”

“Sleeping isn’t important. You are. Tell me what happened, Tones.”

He sighed, getting his thoughts together. “Obie, managed to get a hold of Mark 1, but he was missing a key component,” he tapped his arc reactor, “So, he took mine...I could feel the shrapnel digging it’s way deeper. YN, I looked up to him, he was like a father to me. There were times where I wished he was instead of..” he cleared his throat, “I managed to crawl down to the lab. Don’t let me be mean to Dum-E for a month, by the way. Rhodey got there soon enough, but Pepper was in trouble. We fought. I had Pepper overload the giant arc. Obie’s dead.”

“Tony...” You didn’t know what to say.

“I’m okay, YN,” he sighed, looking up at the ceiling, “Got a new name now, a not so secret identity.”

“The people know you’re in the suit?” You asked, he nodded, “Who are you?”

“I am Iron Man.”

You pondered it for a moment before nodding, “It’s catchy.”

“Guess it’s true what dad said, Stark men are made of iron.”

“I think you’re made of something else entirely, Tones.”

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[ruffiorocks]

Am I the only one that feels like Kelly shouldn't be the one to give Lena any therapy?

She's far to connected to the very issues in Lena's life.

She's Lena's ex boyfriends sister, that relationship was AWFUL and James had zero respect for Lena even when she was trying to keep him alive and zero respect for her as his boss. How exactly would that session begin?

Kelly "so Lena, I want you to feel like you can say anything OK? There are no boundaries".

Lena "so I had this ex boyfriend who was the biggest a**ehole, had a hero complex, was intimidated by powerful women, could have ruined my name and magazine with his ego and nearly committed an act of terrorism because he believed Anti Alien Nazi's deserved a voice....... So want to talk about that?

Kelly "........ let me refer you to someone else".

Kelly "so Lena, other than your ex, tell me what else is troubling you".

Lena "Well, I had this best friend, you might know her? You're dating her sister and your brother failed to get passed one date with her and then suddenly decided he liked me? Yeah so... this best friend was a super hero who treated me like garbage using her alter ego because she actually thought I was going to hurt her, she couldn't see past her own God complex to see I was helping our mutual friend, I had to almost marry her boyfriend because an alien queen thought I was special and manipulated me into believing that....."

Kelly "erm... maybe we should move on... wait Kara's Supergirl?!!"

Kelly "anything else?"

Lena "so I made friends with the backstabbing best friends sister, you know her as the woman you're dating. Well Alex was against me, then she convinced me she actually cared about me and then she decided to go to defcon 4 and tried to blow me up, she goes on about rules and laws while her and the backstabbing best friend and backstabbing ex boyfriend all break the law and oh yeah SHOOT and kill people but then claim they dont, apparently I'm the only one who is held accountable for my actions".

Kelly "Wait.. Alex what... hang on kills people? Tried to blow you up?..... maybe we should move onto your family".

Lena "So I was adopted by the Luthors who turned out to be mass murdering, evil psychopaths hell bent on destroying alien life. My brother nearly killed your girlfriends sisters cousin who is also your brothers best friend. I tried to make a name for myself outside of all that, the first time I was here in National City I saved all alien life here including Supergirl, I also continued to save the world and Supergirls life, constantly used for my intellect. Oh then I got rejected by my best friend because her boyfriend got yeeted into space and she only came back when she needed me to buy a multi million dollar company for her, which of course I did because that's what friends are for right?..."

Kelly "erm.. Lena? Your family? "

Lena "oh right, well my brother gave himself cancer, then tricked me into saving his life with a serum I was trying to make to cure Cancer but ended up giving people superpowers. He then killed a LOT of people, manipulated what was basically Supergirls twin (who was actually way more honest than the real deal!) My assistant turned out to be a traitor and shot your brother, my brother basically became President and even my mother tried to poisen him! Anyway he once again tried to murder all aliens and Supergirls home City in space so I shot him because he was a murderous psychopath! Then he told me that Kara was Supergirl and weirdly had footage of our lives as though we were in a CW show!"

Kelly "................. I need a drink!"

Yeah so Kelly is waaay to connected to be Lena's therapist. She's far to attached to Alex, James and Kara to ever be fair to Lena and listen like an someone who isn't connected would be.

To be honest it's the same for Kara and Alex, Kelly is to connected to be their therapist.

Having your girlfriend as your therapist isn't a good idea.

Having your sisters girlfriend , and sort of ex's sister as your therapist is a TERRIBLE idea!

It make me wonder the bigger plan in regards to Kelly being a therapist.

[the-magnus-archives-archiver]

A Sturdy Lock

Case: 0032408

Name: Paul McKenzie Subject: Repeated nocturnal intrusions into his home Date: August 24th, 2003 Recorded by: Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London

It’s strange to live alone. Maybe not if you’re used to it, I suppose. If you’ve lived a solitary life then I’m sure it doesn’t feel so isolated or empty. Heck, I remember a time when I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid at living on my own. But now I’m so used to having other people in the house that it’s a sad, lonely existence I’ve found myself living. Even before I started having my nightly visitor.

My son Marcus moved out about two years ago, and before that he’d spent a lot of time away at university or, later, moving around because of his work. So I’d grown accustomed to his absence. But when Diane, my wife, passed away four months ago it has... left the place so terribly hollow. I tell myself that it was a mercy, that by the end her condition meant she wasn’t able to live as she deserved to. And while I’m sure it’s true, the sentiment does little to make the bed seem anything other than far too large for just me. She’d hate me saying that. Diane never had any time for mopers or people who wallowed in self-pity, but after forty years of marriage I think I’ve earned it.

The thing about living in a house full of people if that you can just ignore any noises that you hear in the night. Is that a creak on the stairs? It’s probably just someone going down for a glass of water. What was that thump? Probably Marcus up too late, and accidentally knocking things off the table. I know it doesn’t actually make you less likely to be robbed or broken into, but you stop panicking about it every time you hear the slightest noise from outside your room. I think that’s normal, at least. I’ve never considered myself to have a nervous disposition, but maybe other people just get on with things and don’t worry so much.

Still, since Diane died my nights have become a constant vigil. No house is silent if you listen hard enough, and since ending up alone, I have been listening so hard that at points I have to remind myself to breathe. Now every soft groan of the settling house is the sound of some violent thug or burglar in my home, waiting to see if they need to kill me. Marcus has suggested I get a pet so the house doesn’t feel so empty, but I’ve never had a pet before, and I’m too old to learn now.

Given how alert and paranoid I generally am when trying to sleep in an empty house, I’m sure you can imagine my terror when I heard something outside my room one night about a month ago. I’ve lived in the same house since I married Diane, and I know every squeaky floorboard. It was the one just at the top of the stairs. I waited, desperately straining my ears to hear any other sound of movement. I had heard no windows break or doors open downstairs, and I definitely hadn’t heard anyone coming up the stairs, but I was convinced there was someone there. I could feel their presence waiting on the landing. Had they realised how loud the floorboard was? Were they stood there, motionless, listening for any movement from me just as keenly as I was listening for them?

Then the sound came again, and I was sure there was someone stood at the top of the stairs, but rather than staying there, I began to hear the heavy tread of what was unmistakably footsteps. At first I... simply lay there, paralysed with fear, thinking that I would just... stay, let them take anything they wanted from the house, and call the police once they had left. But from what I could make out they didn’t seem to be going into any of the other rooms. They were slowly, and deliberately, walking towards my bedroom.

The door does have a lock on it, but it’s been so long since I even thought to use it that, at the time, I couldn’t even think where the key might have been. My heart almost stopped when I heard the door handle rattle ever so gently as a hand was placed upon the other side. And slowly, so painfully slowly, the doorknob began to turn. In a burst of adrenaline I didn’t even know I was capable of I sprang out of the bed and across the room. I seized the handle and twisted it back the other way, using both hands to try and match the strength of whoever was on the other side.

Still the handle tried to turn, with a slow, relentless effort that spoke of patience and determination, but sheer panic lent me equal strength. My hands began to grow wet with what I assumed, at the time, was sweat, and I worried about keeping my grip. I did, though. For twenty long minutes, I wrestled in the dark over the door handle of my room. I could have reached the light switch, but that would have meant having only one hand to keep on the door, so I stayed in the dark.

Then all at once the pressure vanished. The handle no longer tried to turn. I had heard no other sound from outside, though. No footsteps leading away, no sound of someone going down the stairs, the house was just silent. I stood there for the rest of the night, the handle gripped tight. And it wasn’t until the first rays of sun peeked through the windows that I found I had the courage to open my bedroom door and look outside.

Nothing.

I was so stiff that I could barely walk back to my bed and dial the number for the police. It was as I reached for the phone that I looked at my hands and saw that what was on them was not sweat. It was blood. I checked all over my hands and arms for cuts or injuries. Nothing. And the door handle was completely clean. I washed my hands thoroughly before I dialled 999.

The police came and they listened patiently to my story. They checked all around my house, but there were no signs of any intruder. All the windows and doors were still firmly locked and there was no sign of forced entry, nor had any of my possessions been taken or even moved. The officers assured me it was no problem, that they were happy to help, all in that tone that told me they thought I was just a senile old man hearing things in the night. I thanked them as they left, even though they had been of no help whatsoever, and spent the rest of the day searching for the key to my bedroom door. I found it in the end, and hoped that with it firmly locked I could sleep a bit easier that night. I was wrong.

When evening came, I tried to sleep. At least, I had convinced myself that I was trying to sleep. Actually, I was listening for any sign that the intruder had returned. Every creak of the house settling, every whine of the pipes sent me into a state of near terror. By two o’clock in the morning I had heard nothing, and had almost convinced myself that I would not be visited again, when there was that slow, ominous creak of the floorboard at the top of the stairs. As before, the footsteps approached my bedroom, heavy and methodical. I turned on my bedside lamp and watched as once again the handle of the door began to turn. I could see the pressure being put on the door by whoever was on the other side, but it was locked, and as the door failed to open, there was a long pause.

Then it began to turn violently back and forth, rattling and banging as it rotated with such force that I worried it might come off entirely. I let out a cry as the assault intensified, and phoned again for the police. It took them twelve minutes to reach me, and all the while my bedroom door shook with the relentless turning of the handle, but the lock held firm. As soon as the doorbell rang, it went immediately still and silent. I didn’t want to unlock and open the door, but if I didn’t the police officers might break down my front door or, even worse, leave.

What happened next was almost identical to what had happened the day before, except this time there was less gentle tolerance in their voices when they spoke to me. I got the clear impression that if I called them again without proof, there would be... undesirable consequences. One of the two muttered something about how difficult it must be for me to live on my own, a message I got loud and clear. I have no intention of being put in a home.

And so, for the last month I have lain awake almost every night, as whatever it is beyond the threshold of my bedroom tries with all its might to get in. I watch the doorknob obsessively, always waiting for the signs of that gentle turning. The first one’s are always so slow.

I tried to get proof for the police. I got Marcus to stay over with me a few nights, in the hope of either scaring the intruder away or having a witness who could corroborate my story. Those were the only nights I got any peace. Nothing came up to my door when he was there. In some ways it was a relief, to have a way of ensuring I could sleep, but it gave me no evidence to convince anyone, and I know he didn’t believe me when I told him what was going on. He just looked... worried when I brought it up, and I didn’t mention it again.

Unfortunately, I can’t get Marcus to stay with me every night. He has his own life to lead and is living with his fiancée at the moment, so I can’t just ask him to move back in with his dad. I tried to set up some cameras in the upstairs hallway, at the top of the stairs and outside my room, but they show nothing. They don’t even pick up the door handle turning, even at times I know for certain that the thing was trying to get inside. There was only one moment, just a frame or two, I think, where the shadows the camera caught on the wall seemed almost to form a face. It seemed to be leering at me, the mouth wide open in a mock scream. It scared me so badly that I had to delete the footage. I have no evidence for the police. Or for you either, I suppose.

I guess that’s why I’m here. This is what you people do. You investigate these things. You know what to look for and can identify the signs of things that... aren’t right. You know, not of this world. I’m not saying it’s a ghost or anything like that, it’s just... that well, if it was a ghost, you’d be the ones to talk to, right? I just need it to stop. And I don’t want to be put in a home. I know they will, if I keep telling them about how my door handle rattles and turns every night, they’ll think I’m senile and useless and send me to a home, and I will not let that happen. It’s my house, and I don’t care how much it scares me, nothing is going to make me give it up. Maybe Marcus is right. Maybe I should get a dog.

Archivist Notes: 

I want to believe Mr. McKenzie, I really do. I am not entirely made of stone, and am apt to be moved by the plea of a scared old man as much as anybody. I mean, dementia is, of course, the most likely explanation, and he admits himself that he has no proof of any of it. Yet part of me still wants to believe him. Perhaps this job is making me sentimental. In any case it’s a moot point. Mr. McKenzie died of a stroke some two months after making this statement, and there doesn’t seem to be any obvious connection between his passing and his statement to the Institute. When this was originally logged, apparently we did send a then-member of the research staff, one Sarah Carpenter, to take some readings of the house. Apparently she felt there was little enough danger to justify an overnight vigil at the place, but like everyone else in Mr. McKenzie’s tale, she encountered no strangeness or intruders on the upstairs landing, or in any other part of the building.

Sasha, who has now returned after her brief convalescence, has confirmed the call outs against police reports and they appear to match, though obviously they’re rather light on detail. Martin made contact with the son, Marcus McKenzie, but he declined to talk to us, saying that he’d “already made his statement.” This leads me to believe that Marcus McKenzie may also have a statement lurking somewhere here in the archives, lost among the mess and misfiling. The only other thing that stands out from this as strange is that Sarah Carpenter, the researcher originally sent to look into this back in 2003, took some rather detailed photographs of the interior and layout of the house.

Looking through them now, it strikes me that the bedroom door, to which Mr. McKenzie refers so often, does not appear to have a keyhole, or any sort of lock.

Source: Official Transcript and Podcast (MAG 27 A Sturdy Lock)