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afewnovelideas · 2 years ago

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WandaVision/Red Robin crossover fusion idea

So she ends up on a DCU Earth/Gotham and pretends to be human. She takes on the identity of "Dana Winters".

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After the disaster of her life on MCU-Earth post Multiverse of Madness, Wanda made the executive decision to hop the multiverse and find an alt version of Earth where she doesn't exist so she can rebuild her life.

Things happen as in canon. Wanda meets and marries Jack. She mostly just tolerates Jack. He has a slight resemblance to Vision's human form, but is more a means to an end. A marriage of convenience to solidify her presence on this Earth and to hide the fact that she's not exactly a native.

However, while she tolerates Jack, she inadvertantly finds herself falling in maternal love for his son, Timothy. While Jack is borderline negligent/abusive to the boy, Wanda can see that he is such a good, kind boy, if a bit mysterious at times.

With her magic, it doesn't take long for her to learn that Tim is Robin, and young squire of the Batman. While not happy to learn how the boy is continually putting himself in harm's way as a teenage hero, she doesn't confront him about it. She figures he'll tell them the truth in his own time.

Jack gets murdered, but instead of Tim finding the body alone, Wanda just happened to be out grocery shopping and returns home about the same time and sees Tim moments after the boy discovered the body.

She is the one holding Tim to comfort him instead of Batman.

Because she doesn't really care about Jack, she doesn't end up having a mental breakdown like canon Dana. She has more important things to worry about, like caring for Tim.

So no need for Tim to invent Uncle Eddie. He just stays with "Dana".

So Wanda is there as the rest of his year of hell inflicts so much more grief on Tim with multiple other deaths and betrayals.

It makes her angry. She's trying her best to protect her boy, but this world keeps taking from him, just like her world back on MCU earth kept taking from her.

Wanda is tempted, so tempted all the time, to intervene with her magic to help/protect Tim. But she is still hiding. She knows this Earth has magic users, and who knows how they would react if they learned a Scarlet Witch was on their world.

She resists for as long as she can...

Then Bruce Wayne "dies".

"Robin" is taken from Tim.

And her son runs away from home to find his lost mentor.

Wanda doesn't learn Tim has run away from home until the school calls her to report that he's missed attendance call. She works herself into a proper frenzy looking for him... calling his friends...

She finally gets the truth when she goes to Wayne Manor looking for him. Inadvertantly, while Dick and Alfred were trying to dodge Wanda's pointed questions (made only more uncomfortable when Wanda told them, point blank, she knew Tim was Robin and stop lying to her) Damian ends up inadvertantly spilling the beans about Tim running away due to being "replaced by the true blood son."

At that point, Wanda is so done. Her son has been betrayed! Tim's out in the wind hurt and alone and she has no idea where he is!

Once she leaves the manor and is far from prying eyes and security cameras, Wanda indulges in her powers for the first time since leaving MCU earth and flies of to search for her son.

Wanda searches the world and finally finds Tim... Right as Widower's blade runs through the teenager.

Wanda's maternal rage is all-consuming. She (literally) pins Widower in place with savage spears of burning crimson light through his limbs before flying down to check on her critically wounded son.

Tim's bleeding out on the desert sand, and she can tell he's dying. That is completely unacceptable to Wanda. So, out of desperation, she shares with Tim a portion of her own magic... A literal piece of her soul... To heal him and keep him alive. It weakens Wanda, but she doesn't care.

First and foremost, Wanda is Tim's mother... And she'll do anything to save her son.

Tim's life is saved but the whole ordeal and aftermath causes him to pass out, though he does catch a glimpse of her in her "Scarlett Witch" form. Inwardly, he wonders if she's an angel though out loud he asks, "Mom...?" before losing consciousness.

Strengthened by her magic, she gathers him up, but not before flaying Widower's mind with her powers to scrape information about the Council of Spiders for future reference. She'll exterminate them all later once she knows Tim is safe and sound.

When Wanda finds Tim bleeding out in the desert, that's when she really let's her magic rip out of her sheer fury at what Widower did. Magic users around the world feel it. Constantine, Zatanna, and even Dr. Fate are signaled that something powerful and dangerous had awakened.

Raven feels it at all too, but she reads the emotion behind the explosion of power as being one fueled by maternal fear and grief.

After Wanda spirits Tim away, the Justice League Dark team arrives on the scene. And what they find is unsettling:

- two dead assassins from the LoA

- one nearly dead assassin from same

- a now gibbering mind flayed Widower drooling in the sand

- evidence in the Cave that Batman is alive and lost in time

- an unhealthily large amount of Tim Drake's blood soaked into the sand

- remnants of pure chaos magic practically crackling in the air, and especially around Widower

Meanwhile, Wanda has taken Tim somewhere secluded and safe. A remote quiet valley tucked away deep in a central European mountain range that can only be reached by flying.

Wanda had been quietly setting up a cabin here like back on her earth in case she ever needed to be alone for her sake or the world's. The mountains surrounding the valley were steep and offered natural shielding from magical scanning as well as being a dead zone for phones, internet, and satellite. Wanda layered her own hex shields over this after bringing Tim there.

(Heaven help any magic user that stumbles upon her valley. Wanda took Agnes's lesson to heart... *"In a given space, only the witch that cast the runes can use her magic."*)

Now that Tim is alive and safe, Wanda rests herself, unknowing of the chaos she left in her wake as Justice League Dark members go to Gotham to inform the resident Bats there both of proof that Bruce Wayne is alive but also that Tim Drake is now missing and might be critically injured.

#tim drake #fanfiction #red robin #robin #batfamily #crossover #mcu fic #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #my writing

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sasheneskywalker · 6 months ago

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propaganda in the form of a list of amazing brudick fics!

a bird in the hand by wingdingery The first time Clark meets Robin, he’s completely confused about why Batman (Mr. I am vengeance, I am the night, and I work alone) would choose to have a hyperactive neon-colored ten-year-old as his partner in vigilanteism.

Over the next twenty years, he comes to understand clearly what makes Nightwing so special—though the relationship between Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne never gets any less complicated over time.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson & Clark Kent, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne

a painting you could never frame by wingdingery Batman gets hit by a curse that can only be broken by his soulmate. Fortunately, that’s easy enough for Dick to fix.

The only problem is, no one else knows that he’s Bruce’s soulmate—not even Bruce himself.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

when all the walls come down by wormsin This isn't the first time one of them has been dying in the other's arms. But it might be the last. As far as deathbed confessions goes, Dick thinks his is pretty good.

“Once upon a time, there was a kingdom without a King or Queen…”

Or: It takes a building falling on their heads for Dick to tell Bruce how he really feels.

E | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

One-Way Glass by wormsin Dick Grayson—husband, father, hero—is de-aged to his early days as Robin.

There are lots of different ways to look at the past. Sometimes, it's hard to know what really happened.

E | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

Hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss by ful_crum After Jason’s death, Dick spends more time back at the manor. There are many opportunities for sparring between Bruce and Dick, but it’s only a matter of time until sparring turns into fighting.

Or, what happens when you fistfight your former mentor that you kind of hate and kind of love?

M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

Fledgling by quickmanifyouloveme "But are you in love with me?"

"I can't let you leave."

Bruce Wayne has died. Tim asks Dick why he doesn't want to help get their father back. Dick is tired of lying about the two years before he left to become Nightwing.

E | Rape/Non-Con, Underage | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson

Happy Acres by Kyele When a seemingly-rehabilitated Dr. Quinzel opens an upscale retreat for couples in crisis, Batman needs to investigate. An undercover mission as Bruce Wayne and partner should do the trick. Unfortunately, his first choice for the mission is unavailable. As is his second. And his third. And -

“What’s more important?” Dick challenges. “Your considerations - or the lives of the people who may be endangered by a delay in getting the truth about Happy Acres?”

Bruce opens his mouth, and then closes it again. He knows the answer to that. He believes the answer to that. He just - he can’t even form the thought. Logically he knows what Dick is suggesting, but it won’t even compute. He has spent too long preventing his mind from ever considering Dick and romance at the same time.

Dick, who doesn’t have Bruce’s feelings, also doesn’t have Bruce’s difficulties. “That’s what I thought,” he says. Despite his victory, he somehow sounds weary. “So get over yourself, and hand me the damn pocket square. I’m your date tonight, and you’d better start getting used to it.”

E | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

Casino Royale by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin) Boravia’s grand casino, once a hotbed of European crime, has reopened with a high-stakes poker tournament Bruce Wayne suspects may be the work of Roulette. In a country where superheroes are banned, the only way to foil a criminal conspiracy is to enter the tournament as himself, and play his way up to the top.

But not just any card-playing billionaire can get his name on the list. The real price of admission is a lot higher than the two million dollar buy-in. You also need a secret to offer up as your stake. A dirty one. The kind a man like Bruce Wayne would pay dearly to keep quiet.

Enter Dick Grayson.

Though he agrees to accompany Bruce to the tournament in the guise of his illicit lover, to help him fake a blackmail-worthy secret besides the one with masks and capes, Dick's not wild about spending so much time with his old friend in flirtatious playboy mode; but somehow it's harder than expected to watch Bruce direct that legendary charisma at other people, and Dick doesn't quite know why. Over the course of four days, what began as a straightforward undercover job devolves into a messy emotional tangle which forces both men to confront truths they’ve kept hidden for years . . . even from themselves.

E | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

You are forever in my mind by orphan_account This started off as a simple idea: Bruce installs a new set of cameras in the manor; cameras he doesn't tell anyone about. One night, he accidentally sees something that fundamentally affects him - and the way he looks at Dick.

E | Underage | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

Top AO3 Batfamily Ships Bracket: Finale

#dc #bruce wayne #dick grayson #brudick #fic rec #vote for brudick!!

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ellana-ravenwood · 2 years ago

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Why don’t you visit my dreams anymore ? - Jason Todd x fem!reader

Synopsis : A story about grief, and how to (try to) overcome the pain of losing a loved one.

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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Jason had been your first love. And you were sure he would be your last. It was impossible to replace someone like Jason Todd.

Never before did you love someone like you loved him.

And oh, oh he loved you back so beautifully.

Some would say it was a young and silly love, that you were both still too young to be sure you had found “the one”. After all, it was rare for people to stay forever with their high school sweetheart.

But you both felt it. You were both adamant that this was it. You’d never find someone else, who could love you as deeply as he did, and vice versa.

True love, it was.

And whomever saw you two together, couldn’t doubt that.

And so what if you were just fifteen ? (Almost sixteen !) It was just so obvious to you two, that you were destined to be together. Your relationship was still young, but you had always been best friends, since as long as you can remember. And things were still very much at the “teenage cutesy love” stage, but it was such a profound love.

Your love was the kind of love that happens once every century, the kind that is so strong and deep, it inspires great stories that will never be forgotten.

That’s how it felt to you.

Forever.

Only, Jason’s forever was cut short. One night, you received a call from Alfred...

“Master Jason is gone.” From the way the butler’s voice cracked, there was no doubt in your mind what this meant. Never before, did you feel such a visceral pain.

DENIAL

“No. You’re wrong. It’s not possible ! Why are you lying to me, Alfred ?”

“Lady (Y/N) I-”

There’s a short pause, and a tiny sliver of hope grows in your heart. Yes. This must be a joke. A sick joke, yes, but maybe this was just that “British humor” so many people spoke of ?

“Lady (Y/N), I’m sorry. I do not know what to say...”

Alfred ? Speechless ? No.

“This is not possible. He can’t be gone. We’re supposed to celebrate his birthday next week. I bought him a gift. How can I give it to him, if he’s gone ? He can’t be. You’re lying.”

Complete refusal. This wasn’t possible. Your Jason would never leave you. He would never. HE WAS JUST FIFTEEN !!

“I’m sorry...” You hear again, before slamming your phone against the wall. You didn’t want to hear any of it. Those were blatant lies. You didn’t have time to waste with that.

Decidedly, you put a coat on, and went to Wayne Manor.

************

You never even rung the door.

When you arrived, you felt a certain vibe. Like something was not right. Like something was missing.

Someone, was missing.

There was light in the library room. A place you knew for a fact, only Jason used. And once again, you felt hope. Those dark feelings were just your imagination ! You were going to run up to the window, and scare the hell out of him by tapping on it ! Now that, would be an actual funny joke.

Not like the one Alfred made.

A smile on your face, you go on your tip-toes, and you peek into the room and-

It’s not Jason.

It’s his dad.

He’s sitting in that same armchair Jason always sits in. He holds the blanket Jason always wrapped around himself while reading, and he-

He holds it against his face. And you don’t have to see it to know that the man is crying.

Bruce Wayne is crying.

This isn’t a joke.

Jason is really gone.

But in dreams

You cry yourself to sleep, of course. But then-

Then a miracle happens. Because he’s there, right in front of you. And he reaches a hand towards your tears...He touches your face. Wipes the tear away.

“You’re really here.”

You tell him, and he smiles at you. But it’s a sad smile, one full of guilt and regrets. One that you’re not used to see on his face.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but I’m not really here. This is a dream.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth...I don’t really know how I came here. I just really wanted to see you one last time.”

“Don’t say that, Jason. Please.”

“You know, if I had become a grown up, I would have married you. I mean it. I don’t think the day would happen, that I would stop loving you.”

“Why are you telling me this ? You can be such a jerk...”

You turn away, tears once again welling up in your eyes. Your heart is bleeding, and in that dream, you’re not sure whether it’s literally, figuratively, or metaphorically. It’s confusing. But he’s here. He’s here.

“It’s just- I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back. I have so much I want to tell you. I have so much-”

“Stop it !”

You throw your arms around him, and squeeze him against yourself. Not about to let go. You don’t want to ever go. He doesn’t finish his sentence, sighs, and squeeze you back.

“Guess I’ll just have to come back...”

He says, and then you don’t remember what happens. You just wake up in your bed, and the overwhelming feeling of sadness almost gets the better of you...

ANGER

Why you ? This wasn’t fair. THIS WASN’T FAIR ! Everywhere, you see him. He’s all over the news, and everyone talks about this “tragedy”.

None of them knew him. None of them. Journalists want to talk to you, as it was known you were his girlfriend...But then, they suddenly disappear, and you’re sure it’s thanks to Bruce.

Bruce.

You used to spend a lot of time at the Manor. When you lost Jason, you also ended up losing his dad and Alfred, who had become akin to a family for you too, who never really had one.

That’s how it clicked so fast between you and Jason.

Two children who had to grow up too fast. But you were both lucky. He was adopted by Bruce, and you by the most wonderful parents you could hope for. After all the hardship you went through together, you deserved a happy ending !

So this wasn’t fair. THIS WASN’T FAIR !!

You were pretty sure you had always loved Jason, even if, when you were children, you never realized it. The feelings weren’t the same, of course, being kids. It’s only recently you admitted to loving each others...Only recently...

Too soon. It was too soon ! You barely had anytime together !

You were so damn angry. At everything and everyone. You started to isolate yourself, not talking to your parents, or to any of your friends.

You lost your appetite, you lost sleep (which was a nightmare, as only during your sleep could you see him again), you lost all will to do anything.

And you were so angry, all the time. Angry about everything.

But most of all, you were angry at Bruce Wayne. He didn’t even call you, or come see you !! You thought he cared about you, you thought he-He was Jason’s dad. You were close because of that. And he didn’t even tell you himself. He didn’t even come see you !!

You could talk about Jason together, or reminisce good times. He could tell you exactly what happened, as the explanation you got were somewhat shady. He could- Why didn’t he want to talk to you ??

So angry. So angry it hurts. It hurts...

You couldn’t wait to be asleep, so Jason would visit you again. You knew he would come. He came to you every night. And then, then you could pretend like none of this was real. Like he was alive and well. You talked, kissed sometimes, and just enjoyed each other’s presence...It was such bliss.

So much better than this waking nightmare, in which you felt so alone.

************

Bruce couldn’t face you.

He felt so guilty, and angry at himself. He was the reason Jason died. He was the reason Jason died !! The boy was just fifteen !! HE WAS JUST FIFTEEN !!

He had such a long life ahead of him. With you at his side. Bruce’s boy always talked to him so much about you...

Ever since he first came in his life. You used to be “his best friend (Y/N)”, the “most wonderful person on earth !”. And then one day, you became his girlfriend, and Bruce saw his kid smile so much. He almost believed-

He almost believed he succeeded. That Jason wouldn’t be like him, that he would have a better life, that he would be allowed to be happy.

And then he got killed. Because of him, because he let him be “Robin”.

Fifteen.

His boy was just fifteen...

BARGAINING

You could see him in dreams.

Surely, it meant he wasn’t truly gone, right ?

“My life for his !” You’d ask-Anyone. Anything.

God. Gods. Entities. Any higher powers who could help you.

They could take you, if they brought him back. They could-

But then, he would be in your place. He would be the one suffering. And you couldn’t bear that very thought. You couldn’t-

“Please. Please just, make my dreams last longer. Or make it so I never wake up again, and I can stay with him forever. Please. I beg of you...”

DEPRESSION

It lasted a long time. A year or two.

You just, went by.

Feeling numb, tired, hopeless, helpless.

You lost all perspective of a future. Everything was a struggle, and living in a world without Jason felt like torture.

It was as if you just floated through life. High school graduation came, and you had no memory of it. You weren’t planning on going to college. And those past two years, were spend mostly alone...You hated how people looked at you with pity. You hated it.

One year. Two years. It had already been two years, since you lost Jason. Time was suppose to heal all wounds, no ? Absolute bullshit. It felt as difficult and hurtful as when you first received that phone call.

Jason was gone. How could you ever feel happy again ?

It was only at night, that things felt right again. You’d spend a lot of your time sleeping, because Jason would visit you every single time. He would come in your dreams.

He said he shouldn’t, that you had to move on. He said he should stay away...But he couldn’t. He didn’t have the heart to never see you again. He couldn’t leave you alone, he said.

Yet whenever you would wake up, and come back to reality...He wouldn’t be there.

He would never be there again.

And then one day, Bruce Wayne knocked on your door. You would learn later, that your parents called him for help, hoping he could bring you some comfort as you both went through the same kind of pain...

************

“Jason would’ve-He would’ve liked for you to have this.”

It were journals. About ten of them.

Jason’s diaries...You knew he wrote, a lot. You knew. But you never imagined you’d be able to read those.

Bruce knew, that by giving you those journals, he would reveal his secret identity. But he felt he owed you that much. That you needed the closure.

You needed to know it was his fault. Bruce, in a way, was trying to punish himself. If you hated him enough, then maybe it would makes things right. Maybe you’d be able to move on.

He stayed with you, as you read pages and pages of Jason’s neat handwriting. Most pages had a least one paragraph about you. From age 8, and his approximative writing, to age 15, dated on the day of his death...he talked at least once about you, every single day.

It made you heart so warm.

Ah. It’s as if you almost forgot, so obnubilated by your dreams. But your Jason was so full of life, and love, and kindness. He was so-

Jason. He was the most incredible man you ever met (although he would never become quite a man). He was-

Tears. But this time, it wasn’t as much tears of sadness, as it was relief. Happiness. Born from countless good memories, and the knowledge that you would never forget him.

You would love Jason Todd forever. You knew that. He couldn’t fully leave your heart.

“Thank you.”

You say, and Bruce is confused. He was so sure you would hate him ! After all, it’s because he was Batman, that his son died !

“Thank you for giving him the love every child should have from a parent. And for giving him a home. For taking care of him.”

He feels his throat squeeze painfully. No. No this wasn’t- How could you look at him with such a gentle smile ?

Holding Jason’s last journal against your heart, you dried some of your tears before saying :

“It really sounded like, he was so happy with you. So, thank you. Thank you so much for being there for him. Thank you, Bruce.”

What is this ? Why are you being so kind to him ? He’s-He’s the reason his boy died ! He doesn’t deserve your thanks. He doesn’t-

He feels the tears welling up in his own eyes, as he stares at you in disbelief.

And you understand. You know how he feels, how he thinks it’s his fault. You know. But you cannot hate him. Because he did, love and care for Jason. And he did, give many great years in a warm home to him. And-

You were certain he couldn’t stop Jason. Your boyfriend was born to help others, you always knew it. He couldn't stop him from becoming Robin. On the contrary, letting him take that mantel fulfilled Jason’s true purpose, you were sure of it.

The fact the man came all this way here, fighting his own grief, just in the hope to make you feel better. To actually save you, and help you move on...It was enough for you. Even now, Bruce still looked out for Jason.

Because of course, Jason would hate for you to be so sad. He told you himself, in your dreams. He couldn’t bear to see you sad, defeated, heartbroken...He said he would do something for you and-

Ah. Did he send his dad for you ? Did he visit him in a dream, and ask for him to give you his journals ? That was entirely possible. After all, it’s been two years since every single night, your dead boyfriend would invite himself in your dreams.

And you were sure it was him, and not just a figment of your imagination. Call it a gut feeling. The world had seen weirder things...

Yes.

Hating Bruce wasn’t the way, you knew it.

And ah, little did you know that this knowledge lodged in your heart would one day save a certain man wearing a Red Hood... (but that’s, for another story ;))

ACCEPTANCE

“Why don’t you visit my dreams, anymore ?

Please. Come back. I love you. I miss you.”

It’s been weeks, and weeks, and weeks. He hasn't come back to your dreams, and it felt like this time-

He was truly gone.

“Why don’t you visit my dreams, anymore ?”

A question you’d ask yourself many times. Was it because you finally started to find some peace ? Because you finally started to heal, in a way ?

You could never truly heal. You would never forget him. But you felt like...You still had a lot to live for. That he would’ve wanted you to keep goin. After all, he told you himself, in your dreams.

But he wasn’t coming anymore. Was he trying to finally let you move on ? Was he sacrificing his own wish to see you, so you could move forward with your life ?

Could be. Or maybe it really were all dreams, and you finally accepting his death unlocked something in your subconscious, that made it think you didn’t need to see him anymore ?

But you missed him. So much.

“Why don’t you visit my dreams, anymore ?”

A question that would remained unanswered...For now.

A love that transcend death.

Finals week.

After Bruce’s visit, you finally slowly came out of your depression. Finally slowly came out to the world again.

And you applied for Gotham’s college, hoping to get a degree in forensics (maybe feeling a little inspired by a certain “Batman”). You wanted to keep Jason’s legacy on, you would carry the torch for him.

Jason never got to grow old, never got to do so many things...You felt like i was your duty, to also live for him.

And so, that’s why you were coming home very late that night, after you spend hours and hours at the library, studying. You had to nail those finals !

Maybe that’s why you didn’t notice those less than amenable men walking towards you ? Engrossed in your revision, you only saw them too late.

But of course. A mugging in Gotham City. How original.

However, before they could even utter a word to you, a big red mass fall on them.

You didn’t have any other words to describe what just happened. It really felt like a giant in red just stomped their face.

Said giant turns to you, and you know you should feel fear, yet-

You recognize that stance. The way those hands lay on his sides. And though you cannot see his face, as he’s wearing a mask, you know the shape of his eyes, as he looks at you.

You know who this is. It seems impossible, and yet...The world has seen weirder things, right ?

Explanations would come later. Or never, really. They were not important, right now.

“Ah...That’s why you disappeared from my dreams.”

************

In the night, two silhouettes runs towards each other.

Their hands find each other, their lips too.

A tight embrace between two beings who had always been destined to be together, so much so that even death couldn’t keep them away from each other forever.

Because their love, was forever.

In the night.

Two silhouettes embracing each other, never letting go again.

And this time, it wasn’t just a dream.

__________________________________________________

Here we are. Wrote fast (didn’t re-read myself or I wouldn’t post it..), not very well in a way, but I hope you still liked it. Yes. A short story I felt like writing, as I had a dream about someone I lost long ago, and it felt so nice, to see them in my dream, that...here we are :).

I hope you liked it. Comments and reblogs are always welcomed, as per usual.

#Jason Todd x reader #Red Hood x reader #Batfam x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #Batman x reader #Nightwing x reader #Richard Grayson x reader #Red Hood imagine #Jason Todd imagine #Jason Todd x you #Batman imagine #Batfam imagine #Bruce Wayne imagine #Batman #Jason Todd #DC reader insert

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violetbumblebea · 2 years ago

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Every now and then, Jason felt bad about lying to Dad. The man took him in, loved him, and bought him literally all the books he could ever ask for and how does he repay him? By sneaking behind his back. Moments like this, however? Really cement why none of the Birds tell their father shit.

"Dad," Jason groaned, slumped next to the man in the back of their limo, "why do we have to visit Two-Face of all people?" Jason attempted to make eye-contact with Alfred through the review mirror to convey his general sense of misery. Alfred, the unsympathetic bastard, rolled up the privacy screen.

Bruce Wayne, dressed in a three piece suit, looked away from the mirror he was fixing his hair in to look at his sulking teenage son. "Harvey Dent," Bruce said, putting emphasis on the name, "is one of my oldest friends. I don't condone what he did but I'm trying to support his recovery."

This is why the Birds could never tell Bruce Wayne the truth. Bruce believed in second chances and in the inherit good of people and therapy. Bruce would never condone of his children enacting badass vigilante justice.

Jason sighed as they approached Arkham. He considered himself lucky. He had come from nothing on the streets to literally the best home in the world.

On one hand, he had the perfect dad. Bruce went to all of his plays, parent teacher conferences, and chaperoned all of his dances (which wasn't the best, but Jason wasn't complaining.) Between all of the activities of his four sons, Bruce was also a successful businessman. Truly, his dad was super human (metaphorically of course - they had checked).

While his dad was pretty much perfect, he also had a wonderful outlet in the form of the Birds.

When Jason had first joined the Wayne family, he found himself chafing under the rules and regulations of his new life. Sure, he loved his structured activities but, at times, they were so stuffy. Bruce had done all the things he was supposed to, supporting Jason's interests, throwing him in therapy, and offering a safe space at home. Something just wasn't clicking for Jason.

It wasn't until he caught Dick's frequent disappearances that he found what he had been missing - crime fighting. Apparently, Dick, in all his prepubescent angst, decided to avenge his parents' deaths and just never stopped. From then on, he had been helping Gotham's poor as Robin Hood.

Their operation in the attic (or the Nest, as Babs had nicknamed it) had only grown from there, adding Dick's friend Barbra Gordon, their stalker-turned-brother, and Bruce's kid that he had unknowingly had with an assassin.

So yeah, Jason had the perfect parental figure, great siblings, a weird spy grandpa, and an outlet for burning energy and beating up bad guys. All in all - not so bad.

What would make his life even better? If his dad would stop visiting a crazy murderer once a week and dragging one of them along with him!

"Come on, Jaybird" his dad said, holding the door to the limo open for Jason. "Let's go tell Uncle Harvey about your role as Iago in "Othello"!"

Jason shuffled out of the limo and the door slammed behind him. He kept pace with Bruce as they approached the dark gray cement of Gotham's best and only asylum.

Time to hang out with the Uncle that Jason had thrown into jail two months ago. Fun.

Note:

Obv. this isn't done! I intend to keep writing for this :) It's been awhile and I'm trying to clear some cobwebs lol. Hope you like it well enough :)

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twinklelilstarkey · 2 years ago

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Making Headlines [Part 16]

Words: 4.4k+ Summary: The truth comes up. Warnings: Rich people being their privileged selves. Fem!Reader. Lying/being lied to for years. Lack of proofreading - I did the best I could. Parts: Prologue, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen [Series Masterlist]

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

You've noticed how your sleep has been getting lighter with time. You’ve started finding yourself waking up to the soft sound of the rain hitting the windows, a little bit of a harsher wind hitting the glass, and, especially, whenever he’s walking through your apartment.

Only after noticing the familiar pattern of the steps on your hardwood floors or tiles, and possibly speaking to him for mere seconds, your sleep goes back to being how it usually is, deeper and heavier.

And, just as expected, tonight, you get to wake up with that exact noise. You keep your eyes closed, listening to Bruce's steps getting closer to your bedroom. You wait it out, and the sound stops as you assume he has gotten to your bedroom door.

In no time, you feel the bed dip next to you and a hand is laid on your hip. You open your eyes and stare back at him. Bruce’s hair has a few drops of water from the rain, his clothes are their usual black and the rest of his face is lost in the room’s darkness. He's sitting just beside your laying body, at the side of the bed.

You lay your land on top of his on your hip and look up to your bedside table, checking the time.

“You did not just wake me up at 3:30AM.” You whisper at him.

You hear his exhale through his nose, obviously finding your complaint amusing, and look back at him. He moves his head, not noticing your stare, and looks out of the large windowed wall of your bedroom. You watch him as the city lights escape through the crack of your curtains and illuminate his face for you.

Bruce is more than distracted. The lights in the distance are able to almost bring him into a trance, and you’re not able to pull him out of it. You look out as well, trying to understand what he’s looking at, but before you do, Bruce looks away and smooths his hand over your side.

“You better go to sleep.” You tell him. “I have an early meeting tomorrow, and you are not ruining my mood for that.”

He doesn’t answer verbally again but he does get back up from the bed. You notice the way your skin loses warmth as his hand is pulled away and watch as his figure moves before you. You watch him, almost lost in the dark room, and he pulls his shirt off himself, as well as the rest of his clothes.

When Bruce lays down on the bed, you’re quick to get closer. Your eyes meet for just a little bit, and Bruce is unable to see a lot of your face as he’s the one facing the light this time. You watch him, though, without a problem, and it’s ridiculous how easy it is to see it.

Another bruise. One just right at the end of his jaw. One someone probably wouldn't even notice if his skin wasn’t so fair or, really, if they weren’t looking to find one - just like you do.

Your hand lifts and lays near the bruised skin, your fingers carefully brushing over it. Bruce stares at your dark shadowed form as you do it, all while he curses himself out in his head for not even trying to hide the bruise he absolutely forgot that he had. He doesn’t freeze or get ready to get bombarded with questions, he knows you won’t ask anything. You have never done that, and he knows that you’ve seen every single one of them.

Maybe Bruce should feel guilty for not telling you the truth, but, deep down, he knows that he doesn’t feel this way because he will tell you the truth eventually. Only when the time seems right and whenever things calm down in both of your lives. Only then he will tell you and he does not have one thought that could ever make him change his mind about this.

He will have to endure your comforting and silence about his scars and his bruises until then and endure the possibility of any feeling of pity or worry as well. He will have to see the way you stare at them as you always do and then the way you force yourself to look away and act normal. The way your smooth hands move comfortingly past them. So softly that Bruce swears the pain disappears when he feels them.

Your acrylic nails brush through his hair next, all of it as your way of faking ever noticing the bruise on his face. Bruce quickly lifts his head off the pillow and lays his lips against yours. Your head continues to rest on your pillow as your lips move against his, and your hand on his hair moves to the nape of his neck.

The kiss is soft and careful for both of you. Bruce lays his arm beside your body, hovering over you more comfortingly, and your back now lays on the bed. Your lips separate, and the two of you directly stare at one another. Only one visible side of both your faces, but enough for the two of you.

Your fingers move through the shorter strands of Bruce’s hair,, and you notice him looking over to your bedside table. He closes the space between you one more time and kisses you.

When separating on this one kiss, Bruce won't have you awake for any more minutes due to tomorrow’s events on your schedule. So, he lays back down beside you. Not yet comfortable with the position, and before you can even process it, Bruce flips you with him and makes you lay half of your body on his.

One of your hands lay over his chest, and Bruce’s arm holds you securely close to him. You close your eyes, ignoring all of your possible saddening thoughts, and force yourself to feel your need to rest. Bruce stares out of the window once more and watches as the Bat logo still shines in the clouds of the storming night. He stares at it and rests his head on yours as he does so.

In the space of a few minutes, Bruce feels you entirely relax next to him, and his eyes keep trained on the outside. His arm around you doesn’t hold you in any way less tight, and his hand has begun to move on the side of your body all over again. His body, by continuously sensing and understanding who leans against him and whose peaceful exhales hit his skin, relaxes and, very slowly, makes Bruce fall asleep.

Bruce’s eyes close and, together, the two of you sleep your entire night holding one another.

(...)

“Thank you, everyone.” You say, dismissively as soon as the meeting comes to an end.

Everyone in question slowly stands from the long conference table, and you stay in place, having been the one to stand first at the head of the table. You watch as all of your workers gather their laptops and other materials to abandon the room patiently.

You offer your best imitation of a pleasant smile every time they look at you and continue to hold your own hands behind your back. Anxiety grows inside of you as you can’t wait for everyone to walk out and leave you with yourself. All while you continue to watch as people talk amongst themselves and offer their goodbyes one last time to you.

You look down at your things inside your bag as it stays open on the floor, just beside your feet, and your heart only beats quicker. Your assistant stays near the open door, thanking everyone as they walk by her to get out of the room, and the two of you stand in almost identical poses. People continue to leave at their own pace, and you sigh to yourself when looking upwards once more.

To say waking up today was hard is a true understatement. It was a cold morning. One where you couldn’t even begin to find the courage to reach for the AC to heat up the room, so, you clung to the bigger man beside you under the blankets instead. It made you lose at least 30 minutes of your morning routine, but, still, it was an awful temperature to wake up to.

It wasn’t until Bruce got up and turned on the heat that you felt obligated to move. And Bruce? Oh, he walked back to bed. He slept some more, which made it seem that he wanted to rub it in your face how he has the privilege of not worrying about work. Your urge to throw a shoe at him only got worse when he had the audacity to go to the kitchen to have breakfast with you. It’s nice of him, sure, but it wasn’t nice when he revealed his plans for the day to you. “Sleep more” He had said.

The little shit.

He watched from the bed as you got ready for work, from dressing up to doing your makeup. He also found it extremely amusing how you spent most of your time choosing the right shoes, and that actually made you send him a glare - to which he grinned at.

You push the memories aside, feeling the corners of your own lips genuinely pull upwards, and watch as the last person walks out of the meeting room. You close your eyes for a second in relief and grab your bag from the floor.

Your assistant moves just as quick. She closes the door right as the last person walks out and closes some of the blinds of the glass walls that face the table. When she turns back to you, she already finds you displaying all of the documents at the table.

It’s pretty interesting to see how serene you look or how gracefully you move when the task can only be stressful in her mind. Your assistant only knows the theme of the job, but her curiosity makes her not hold it in anymore. She begins to walk toward the long table, and her eyes meet the documents. She notices your stare at her, but neither of you says anything.

She knows that you’re looking for various examples of the company's growth and decline. From its extractions and intakes every month. Its growing in popularity when it comes to the attraction of new clientele. Its success with marketing - before and after every new marketing team put in place at the company. Lists of names of all that were in the higher seats of the company when the numbers grew and fell. And an even bigger list of all the names and companies that your company has ever been in touch or partnered with for the past years.

The documents fill the table, yet you continue to pull out more of them from your other bag, just behind your chair. You never say anything to your assistant, nor do you ever complain about having her there, standing and watching, awaiting your next move.

As you slowly put down the last piece of paper, you now stand beside your assistant. She quickly fetches you a pen, and you take some time to look away from all of the documents to grab it.

“M-may I ask something?” She asks you.

You look away from the pen over at her and nod.

“Why…” She leans into one of the pages facing her, the first one you put down, “This year in particular?”

You bring your eyes to the paper her finger is laying on and quickly bring them up to her once more.

“It was two years before I made my first headline.”

Still confused, your assistant lifts her finger off the paper and nods at you, acting as if she understood what you just said. She looks through the rest of the documents now, checking their dates and noticing that the last one was extracted just at the start of this week. The table is simply full of them because they are all of the papers that connect the timeline between those two years - then and now.

You carefully read the information in front of you. Your anxiety has calmed down, yet it still burns deep inside of you. It may be because of all that you may find, but it can also be due to the lack of things that you may also find. Your fingernail taps on the table as you continue to stay focused on the paper and take notes with your pen about all that you know of each number presented to you.

From each downfall to each upbringing of the company, all of it has a reason to happen, and you write down every single one that you may find in this table - from marketing to partnerships, everything.

Your assistant stays distanced from the papers as you work, but her mind stays in play. She has no idea, at first, of what could be that you’re looking for. Again, she knows that you’re looking at the company’s rate of success and failure throughout the years as that is exactly what you told her you would be doing today. But… Why that year?

She knows quite a lot about you and your career as she has been your assistant and secretary for some good years, but she knows nothing of your personal life - nor does she wish to. You have been in the news ever since you were born. Both of your parents are successful. A baby coming from that pair made a headline at the time, she knows that, but that is not the year of the headline you seem to be looking for. May you mean your first headline as the company’s owner?

That question makes her steal a look at the year on the page one more time, but, much to her disappointment, that is not the year in question. Millions of questions flash through her mind as she thinks of all other possibilities.

You move 5 papers aside, joining the first year that you have on paper in one small pile, and move on to the next one. You write down and underline all that you need to know, or that you think could be needed to know for the conclusion you’re trying to get out of all of this. Yet, still, these first years would make you conclude nothing but the introduction of two companies in the list of partnerships.

You move on to the next pile after joining together the previous one and notice how your body seems to react to the innocently typed year.

You underline the very specific month in all of the papers and simply write down quick letters “B.W.” just beside it. You lay both of your hands on the table and hover the paper as you read them.

That is exactly when your assistant finds the answer to her question. It’s not your first headline of all time, not your first headline associated with the company, your first headline as the boss of the company, or your first headline by yourself. It was simply your first headline with 'the prince of the city', and the first headline that made your name be dragged through the mud by so many mouths in the media outlets.

You circle the large numbers of extractions and intakes of money from that year forward. From before and after the headline. You watch as the total calculation stays printed at the end of the page, showing a clear decline in business.

You stay silent, continuing to move along through the years, moving carefully and joining in the piles, trying to find the new truth that could be the justification for so much in your life. Year after year and pile after pile, and you continue to have nothing.

By the time you’re done with all of the papers, the rude sound of a phone ringing loudly fills the entirety of the room. You hear your assistant swear at herself in a whisper while standing just behind you, and she moves to put down her things and pull out her phone from her pocket.

The contact name flashes on the screen, and your assistant quickly brings her eyes over to you. She watches as you stand straight once more and look over at her to try and see what is taking her so long with the phone call.

“It’s your mother, ma’am.” She tells you carefully.

“Talk to her outside.” You tell her, already facing the table midway through your sentence.

She watches as you stare at the paper and rebegin to tap the end of your pen on the wood. She takes a few steps back and walks out of the room, ready to listen to your mother’s orders or plans, just like any other end of the week.

You stay in place, reading carefully as the door closes behind her. You underline the last group of numbers and stand back straight, creating the new pile. You take a step back and look at all of the piles before you.

Confusion is what substitutes all of your emotions suddenly when all that you feel is the lack of a piece in your puzzle. The lack of the justification that you’ve been searching for.

You walk closer to the table once more and pick only a few piles. You line them up and notice how the first ones all have a thing in common, the decline of money and succession of the company, and the other group of piles the increase of said money and succession.

The first group of piles includes the year of the headline, the two following years, and one many years later - close to the time you finished college. The second group of piles is larger, much larger. It has the second year prior to the headline, the 5 years before your joining of the company, and then all of the years that have you as boss.

Your heels click as you quickly grab the two years prior to the headline, as well as the headline itself, and fetch the papers you need. As you stare at the lists of names, you tighten your hold on the pen.

You throw the pen onto the table, making it roll to the floor, and grab the paper which has the profit of the company in a graph. You lay each graph side by side.

You read your own annotations out loud and then walk over to papers of the following years once more.

Putting all of the papers side by side, you stare at all of them again. You intake sharp breaths and read everything one time, two times, five times. The words before you don’t change as the truth stays in printed words just before your eyes.

The company suffered from the headline of your teenage years, they said. They said all of that yet the precise answer is right in front of you now.

That being that one of the most prominent investors of your father’s company pulled out in the month following your headline. Again, one simple company pulled out, and, naturally, the money of your father’s company dropped.

The logic is: no money to spend, less money to make. But the reality is that, in the following years, there was a new presence: Five other companies. All of them are still affiliated with you and make up for the largest partner deals you and your father have done in all these years.

You pull out your phone and type in the name of the said investor. The news articles of years ago flash before your eyes, and anger builds inside of you. Your company lost its primary investor, it didn't suffer. And that same investor is a nobody in the year you live in now.

They lost the company to bankruptcy and have always been a large spokesperson in the years prior to their problematic separation with none other than Wayne Enterprises. All of it simply 4 years before their separation from your father’s company.

You put down your phone and gather all of the lists of partnered and affiliated companies your business has had, from the headline till now. You pick up your laptop, which was abandoned at the end of the table by the time the meeting was over, and begin to do your research: writing down every name and reading the title of every news article that appears before you.

All articles miss one thing and one thing only yet you still keep on going. Your breath has begun to feel stuck in your throat as you type and as you read, and nothing facilitates it for you.

As you reach the list of this year, you notice that it simply has minor changes when it comes to partnerships, but you do your research still.

The door of the room opens after two knocks, and your assistant walks back in, phone in hand. She closes the door behind her and her eyes meet you, staring at the screen with a focused expression on your face yet hiding your every other emotion.

“Your m-” She begins but something stops her.

You had lifted a hand to make her wait and that was enough to make her stop talking.

You read the final title of the headline and quote from the said website and write down the final two letters on the list “W.E.”. You close your laptop and pick up the paper from the table.

This year has been the best of years when it comes to the company's success, with or without you leading it. Money has never been so high in the graph, and no company from your list of partners has pulled out of business or gone against you even once in the space of 6 years. The only changes that appear on those lists are newer names - smaller companies wanting in, and being sold off to you and your company.

You have made more money than your father has ever done as boss of the company. And you have made 30 times the money that he lost when you made the headline with Bruce.

That same headline destroyed you. The media knew that and made it even worse. They circled your name with lies and repeated your public humiliation in thousands of articles in the following years. You were mentioned more times as the girl rejected by Bruce Wayne than anything else. Soon, that nickname changed to the woman that owns one of the fastest growing companies in all of Gotham.

You stare at the list one more time and close your eyes.

You’re the owner of one of the fastest growing companies in all of Gotham, and all of it as you stand beside other companies that you have continued forward with you. And all of them are affiliated or have been happily affiliated before with Wayne Enterprises.

You have no idea for how long truth has been printed, but you have been fed lies for years.

You look up at your assistant, who stands patiently awaiting her time to speak her news to you, and you open your mouth to speak.

“I need you to fact-check a few things this afternoon if possible.” You tell her.

“Of course. What is it about?”

“I need you to know if all of these companies,” You lift the paper for her to see which paper it is, “truly are or have been ever affiliated with the Wayne’s. As well as their relationships with them at present time.”

The mention of the name of the company comes as a surprise to the woman before you, but she quickly closes the space between the two of you and takes the paper, carefully, from your hands. She takes a quick look and offers you a shy grin.

“Of course. I will try to have it done before 6.” She tells you.

You grin back at her as a thank you and notice as she stays silent for a little longer. You bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself from your hidden anger and point towards her phone in her hand.

“What did my mother say?” You ask, voice as monotone as ever before.

“Oh, yes.” She remembers, “She called to ask if you’re still attending Friday’s dinner.” She tells you, fixing her posture as she speaks.

A sick grin grows on your face, but your assistant is blind to its true meaning.

“I am.” You tell her, “At my parent’s house, correct?”

“Yes.” She nods with her usual gentle grin, “And she also asked for you to do something.”

“Which is?” You ask her.

“She asked for you to not bring any unwanted company.” She tells you, “She emphasized the word quite a lot.”

Your blood boils at the indirect mention of Bruce, and the memories of the morning of just previous days enter your mind. The way they looked at him or mentioned him while talking to you. Yet as the truth makes a comeback to your head, all of their actions appear to be nothing but childish to you.

You smile at your assistant, making it appear as if your mother’s quoted words are nothing but a clear inside joke between the so loving mother and daughter, and she smiles back at you.

“You can reassure her that he won’t be there.” You tell her.

“Of course, ma’am.” She answers you right as she begins to type back your mother’s contact as she takes a step back, “If I may be excused?” She asks, holding up the phone.

“Of course.” You tell her with a nod and a smile.

Unsurprisingly, your mother picks up the call after its first rings, and your smile stretches. You hear your assistant saying the words “I spoke to her” as she walks out of the room and closes the door behind her, and your gaze falls back down to the table. You tap your nail on the wood a few times and shake your head as your smile falls.

Good thing today’s already Thursday.

There will be a lack of Bruce in the next parts. He will be there in mentions, but not really there (if that makes any sense). Hope that is okay!!

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soulmate-game · 4 years ago

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Harley’s Plea for Help: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

“How long do you think it’s gonna take before she decides to sneak out?” Nightwing asked over his comms, lazily leaning against the balcony railing in front of him with his head resting on one hand.

“Dude, I started sneaking out almost twenty minutes ago,” a girl’s voice made Nightwing squeak and turn around, to reveal a teenage girl leaning against the door that led to the balcony he was on. “I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by doing unnecessarily showy gymnastics down from my hotel room’s balcony, no matter how much fun that would be, so I just snuck out one of the hotel’s back exits. Then I looked up to admire the moon and saw you here, staking out what is clearly my suite, and decided to come pay you a visit.”

“How long have you been there? And how did you even get behind me? I hope you didn’t break and enter, that’s an actual lived-in apartment behind us right now,” Nightwing asked, turning around to analyze the daughter of Harley Quinn for the first time in person.

She looked just like in her pictures, of course. Jet black hair like her father’s, except it seemed to have a bluish shine in the light. And her eyes were definitely Harley’s— thank goodness for that —vibrant blue and clearly analyzing him with the same amount of intensity as his did her. He had to bite back a chuckle. In a turn of complete irony, she really did look like a Wayne kid. Fit all of Bruce’s usual criteria to be adopted. But she was tiny, even smaller than Harley’s lithe form. He, Bruce, and Tim were of the hypothesis that the exposure both her parents had to Ace Chemical’s vats of acid likely had an effect on her DNA that stunted her growth. Perhaps there were other effects that they wouldn’t be able to figure out until they got to know her better, too, though it was clear that her skin was a likely one. It wasn’t unnaturally pale like her parent’s after their acid dips but it was paler than normal for sure, just a shade or two shy of being paper white.

And he could see, now, what Harley meant when she referred to Marinette as a powerhouse. It wasn’t very noticeable in pictures, but up close Dick could see the carefully honed muscle of an acrobat curling over her otherwise slim build. Combined with the knowledge that Marinette had been taught at least some serious self defense from a young age, he could see how such a tiny package could be a remarkable threat when necessary.

Marinette grimaced as the other Batfam, who were all nearby staking out her room from different angles, dropped onto the large balcony with them.

“Uh, well. I didn’t break and enter, I rather not get off to a criminal-ly start on my first night in Gotham, you know? But I realized that even though I was able to figure out the exact room you were staking me out from, I realized as soon as I got into the first floor of the building that I had no idea how to actually get to you. So I just climbed the stairs all the way to the roof and scaled my way down to this balcony, and pretended I’ve been here for a while when really I was barely able to hear you ask when I was gonna sneak out. I’m still out of breath, actually,” she put a hand on her chest and sure enough her breathing was still slightly fast. But not enough to be worrying or even all that noticeable. Yet another piece of evidence to show that she was a very active individual and had resistance built up to physical activity.

“Yup,” Robin groused grumpily, crossing his arms. “With all that rambling, you couldn’t be anyone else’s child but Quinzel’s.”

Marinette’s face immediately flushed pink all the way to her ears. “I’m sorry! I’ve been trying so hard to quit that habit, too!” She grumbled a bit to herself, putting her face in her hands. They all chuckled at the display. Red Hood ambled over, draping his arm over her shoulders (he nearly had to bend in half to do it, the height difference was that bad).

“As adorable as your freak out is, why’d you even come up here anyway? There’s no way you’d scale down a ten-story building just to say hello.”

She let out a heavy sigh at that, slowly peeling her face out of her hands. “Yeah, I recognized you guys right away. And honestly, as much as Momma Harley would be super proud of me for managing to give an entire group of vigilantes the slip, she’d also ground me for life if she found out that I saw you guys and still snuck away even though she probably swallowed her pride and asked you guys to babysit me, right? Self preservation. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually have some.”

“Wait,” Red Robin held up a hand, brows clearly furrowed under his cowl. “You expected her to ask for our help?”

“Well,” she made a so-so motion with her hand. “I didn’t think of it beforehand, but it all clicked once I saw Nightwing. I know how much my mom is worried about me, especially since you-know-who broke out a few days ago. She is more than worried enough to ask you guys for help. Even if she does complain about you guys, a lot actually, she also has made it clear that she trusts you guys with the stuff that actually matters.

“‘You know who’?” Batman repeated, arms crossed. If Marinette squinted, she thought there might have been a grin on his lips. “Is that how you always refer to him?”

“What else am I gonna call him?” she asked, face going deadpan. “Sperm donor? Source of a large amount of my self doubt and depreciation? The prime reason I haven’t been able to see my mom in person more often over the years? Oh, I know! How about I just always refer to him as ‘that bastard I wanna punch,’? That sounds good!” she rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Only one person in this world has the right to be considered my father in any capacity, and it sure as hell isn’t him. Genetics notwithstanding.”

Red Hood straight up guffawed at that, landing several rough pats on her back that made the girl stumble a bit. “Yep, I like this one! But as fun as it would be to see you give that jackass a mean left hook, it’s better if he never finds out who you are or knows that you’re here,” the vigilante’s voice got dark and serious very quickly. “He doesn’t forget people he finds interesting easily, and if he ever finds out about the connection you have to him, he’ll be a constant threat in your life.”

“I know,” Marinette agreed with a nod. “And if this conversation was happening two years ago, I’d say that my mom’s concerns aren’t unfounded. That I am too easily emotionally compromised and despite my deep seated issues and hatred for that man, I couldn’t guarantee he would be unable to get to me.”

Batman straightened up, as did all of his sons around him. None of them had missed the ‘if’ there. Batman’s voice went from charmingly deep to it’s usual gruff grumble. “What changed in two years?”

They all watched as Marinette gulped, taking a deep breath as she stalled for time, looking out at the view on the balcony before seeming to steel herself and return her gaze to Batman’s. When she did, it was suddenly full of iron will.

“I didn’t lie when I told Mom that I came to visit her— but that isn’t the whole truth, either. If I just wanted to visit her in Gotham, I would have waited until I was eighteen like we agreed. But I can’t wait, Paris can’t keep going on like this. I entered that contest because it was the fastest way to see you. I didn’t know if I would win, but… I had to take the chance. There was no way I’d be able to get to Gotham behind my mom’s back otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?” Robin hissed, stepping up to his father’s side. “Paris has been silent. If anything were happening, we would have heard about it by now.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Marinette corrected, never losing that ironclad look in her eyes. “Because a combination of magic and politics is keeping it quiet. No news about Paris’ situation is able to leave the city limits. Magic makes any non-native who leaves Paris think that everything they experienced was just a crazy dream. Natives won’t forget, but politics has all of us under very strict NDAs if we leave city boundaries, and all of our local news and social media is blocked from being accessed by anyone outside the city. But, I figured a little breaking of the rules wouldn’t exactly put a stain on my family’s reputation or anything, so,” she dug in her pocket and pulled out a thumb drive, holding it up for all of them to see. She swallowed again, but never stopped her eye contact with Batman. She held out the thumb drive.

“I came to Gotham to ask for your help. This sped things up, I didn’t expect to see you on my first night here, but two years in Hawkmoth’s Paris has really taught me how to roll with the punches. This,” she shook the thumb drive. “Holds videos of every fight since HawkMoth first showed up. It has all the information I’ve gathered over two years, tracks his movements and lists all his targets and— everything. But I’m not a detective, I’m a designer. I make clothes, I spar on the weekends, I am not good at getting evidence to prove that someone is a magic-abusing villain holding an entire city hostage.”

“We’re gonna need some details, Little Q,” Red Hood finally removes his arm from around her shoulders, instead crossing his arms and looking down at her sternly. “If your city has a villain holding it hostage, is anyone fighting him? And if you do have someone fighting him, why don’t you need our help, or why didn’t they call the Justice League? The JLE should be in Paris, right?”

Marinette snorted, face scrunching up in obvious distaste. “I’ll have to answer those a little out of order. First; the JLE was kicked out of Paris. They moved their headquarters to Italy about five years ago, I’m just surprised they apparently kept that secret from you,” she gestured to all of them, who indeed seemed very caught off guard by that tidbit. But Marinette just sighed and continued. “Though that’s a good thing, actually. We do have heroes, it started out as just a pair but it’s grown into a small team out of necessity. They didn’t call the Justice League because the last thing we need is any powered heroes coming in and making it worse— your league doesn’t have the best reputation for letting newer heroes take the lead even on their home turf, you know,” she pointed out, which made Batman shift a bit guiltily. He knew the JL was often a bit… heavy handed in their methods.

“What makes the situation so bad that you don’t want to bring experienced heroes into it?” Red Robin cut in, sounding as if the whole situation was a puzzle he was determined to sort out. Which, really, was exactly what Marinette had been counting on. She shot him a finger gun, grinning.

“That’s exactly the point! Hawkmoth uses a magical artifact, like I said— but this artifact can brainwash anybody who experiences even the slightest negative emotion. Sadness, anger, fear— anything negative. And it gives them powers, but puts them largely under his influence,” her expression twisted again, this time into a wry little grimace. “I guess you can say that my momma’s psychiatry background has secretly come in handy a lot over these past two years. And Hawkmoth is exactly why I try to tell Momma Harley to stop visiting me— I have worked my butt off to keep her from finding out about his attacks or getting Akumatized. Every time she shows up it gives me a heart attack!”

“Akumatized?”

Marinette waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the term used for when someone is turned into a super powered villain because of HawkMoth. The brainwashing— really it’s more similar to a straight up corruption. The person usually lacks their usual moral compass, and just seeks to soothe whatever set off their negative emotion in the first place. Usually, that means they seek a bloody revenge. And if someone who already has extensive training or extremely strong powers gets Akumatized, guess what?” She made jazz hands even though her face was deadpan. “Extra powers, or amplified ones, for the metas or superheroes who are Akumatized. And imagine what someone with, say, Batman’s level of experience could do if he had powers and no moral compass,” the silence that followed her words was deafening. She just nodded, knowing she had gotten her point across. “I’ve been working my butt off to stay positive, because if I’m Akumatized…” her shoulders fell, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. “... I have no idea what I’d turn into, but if you take into consideration both my training and my family history… it’s really best if we never find out what kind of magic-powered supervillain I’d make.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Nightwing said after another long moment of silence for that to all sink in. He gestured at her with an open palm. “You’ve been dealing with a terrorist for two years who targets emotional vulnerability, you apparently have never been corrupted by this magic at least to present day, but your mother still worries about you being very emotionally fragile. And your heroes are not detectives, which is clearly what you need or you wouldn’t have asked us for our help.”

Marinette nodded. “I used to be very impressionable. At the start of all this, I was a huge people-pleaser. I got attached to new people in a matter of minutes. My mom always said I reminded her too much of herself— but two years of fighting off a guy trying to get into my head—“

“Wait,” Batman nearly barked, taking a step forward. “He’s been targeting you? You specifically?”

Marinette nodded grimly, mouth a straight line. “Not from the beginning, but this past year it’s been painfully obvious. He might be able to sense the strength of people’s emotions, and unfortunately I don’t exactly experience my emotions very… gently. All of my emotions tend to the much more intense side of the spectrum. If that’s true, then he might know that any negative emotion I feel will make an extremely strong Akuma. Either that, or he’s going by process of elimination. All of my friends, except for one, have been Akumatized already. So has my Papan and my grandmother. But it’s obvious when he’s targeting someone, I’ve felt him try to override my will on several occasions. But I can’t just repress all of my negative emotions forever, so consider us working against the clock right now. That thumb drive has all the details you need about our heroes, how exactly Hawkmoth’s powers work, and so on.”

“Do your heroes know you’re asking for our help?” Red Robin asked, gaze burning a figurative hole through Marinette’s face. “Better yet, if this drive has as much information as you say it does, how did you get it?”

Marinette handed the drive over to Batman, who finally took it and tucked it in his belt as she answered.

“Momma Harley might have a lot to say about your detective skills, but you are all still strangers to me. So consider this a test of your abilities— I expect that you will all go to extreme lengths to verify all of the information I gave you anyway. After all, I’m still the daughter of your most hated enemy. Right?” She met each of their gazes, one by one, with a challenging one of her own. “You’ll just have to figure out my connection to the heroes on your own. And how I got the information, too. It shouldn’t be too hard for the so-called world’s greatest detectives. And maybe this can double as a trust exercise. I fully expect you guys to scour through every inch of my past, and dig up everything you can on me. I encourage you to try to find everything you can, so that hopefully you can decide to trust me on your own once you have all the details laid out in front of you. By the way, for your own sanity? I’d start with reading about all of our heroes’ powers and abilities before you watch any footage of past attacks.”

Red hood rocked back on his heels, trading glances with the other vigilantes before they all shared a nod. Apparently having decided their course of action, Red Hood leaned down and hoisted Marinette up into a princess carry. All traces of her previous iron will melted away in favor of the high pitched squeal of surprise she gave, and once more she became an overly flustered teenager.

“Alright, little cutie. Let’s get you to your mom’s place before she and her crazy plant lady fiancé come hunting us down.”

“I can walk! I can freerun on my own! Mon dieu please let me down! Eeeeek!” She squealed again as Robin slapped a domino mask over her eyes and Red Hood wasted no time jumping over the balcony railing with her still in his arms. The fact that they were lowered down by a wire wrapped around Hood’s waist didn’t seem to take away any of the fright that came with a sudden drop over an eighth-story balcony.

Part 1

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman (didn’t work sorry)

#dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #maribat #bio!dad au #Bio!mom Harley Quinn #Bio!Dad joker #mlb x dc #ml x dc #Harley’s Plea for Help #platonic brucinette #platonic jasonette #platonic Harley Quinn x Marinette

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khaidrate · 3 years ago

Text

Please Let Me Keep Him

Warning! This isn’t really lore accurate, this is just what I wanted to see from the Arkham Knight. So I wrote it! There is an OC in here, their name is King. The only thing you need to know is they work for Bruce and used to be Jason’s friend.

It’s been two years since Jason died, the truth of his unfortunate demise only now coming to light as Bruce traveled through his worst nightmare of a night. If he really sat down and thought about it, Bruce only wanted to see his son again. One more time. Bruce Wayne never sat down though, his anger keeping him afloat while one thought in the back of his mind burned him through and through, “please let me see him again.”

Bruce did his best to focus on his footsteps, the loud clanging of metal on metal, echoing through the flashing halls to bring an even sharper ring to his ears. The red lights and fizzling circuits; it was all enough to distract anyone else.

Not Bruce Wayne.

His head was echoing with horrific laughter, screams of those he barely recognized. Every reflection he caught of himself reminded him that he was going paler than paper, his eyes a horrific green that he only saw in his worst nightmares. The screams would get louder; and he fought the urge to snap the next person he saw’s neck. The voices built to a high, until one scream cut above the rest. A shrill, broken sob, screaming for mercy, screaming for someone to save them - for Batman to save them.

He stopped. He blinked away tears he didn’t even know he could shred, and gave a harsh breath. For so long he had maintained his dark and brooding persona and it was starting to crack, making him wonder whether or not he had been lying to himself for years - whether or not this was the true Bruce. He shook his head, cursing himself for letting such thoughts distract him. The subtle vibration of his gauntlet buzzed with a red light, catching his attention. He slowly raised his arm, preparing himself for the stone facade he once again had to maintain. He clicked a button.

His screen flittered to life, revealing a young adult sitting in front of the batcomputer. Soft freckles on a sharp face with white patches of skin, as well as their heavy bags, illuminated by the light. “Hey, Bruce.”

“Ulysses.”

“Doing good, thanks for asking. You?”

He didn’t even blink. “Why are you in the Batcave? It’s too dangerous.”

Their dark curls fell from their bun as they unpinned it, covering their shaves on the side of their head; painfully reminding Bruce of the bat symbol shaved in, courtesy of Dick. “Nightwing reached out. Shit, Bruce, why didn’t you let us know?”

This time, he did blink. “Too dangerous. You’re too… ”

“Don’t even try to say I’m too young,” they sighed. “At the very least, Damian deserves to know. Do you know how many times Dick thought you had died in the last twelve hours?” His only response was a grunt, and he continued to move forward down the hall. “Whatever. I’m helping you. Do you want info or not?”

“What do you have?”

King rolled their eyes. “Of course, my pleasure. Two signatures up ahead, behind the chonky door.”

“Please do not say ‘chonky’ on comms, King.” Dick’s voice cut in.

“One is definitely unconscious,” they continued, “One… huh. Bats, I’ve never seen a system so close to yours, they have all of Gotham marked down in the same way the computer mark's things. The Arkham Knight definitely knows you, like they said. I’ve also locked onto some of the Arkham Knight’s voice patterns.”

“How?” Dick asked, “Our systems couldn’t even pick it up. Taj must be one damn genius.”

They hummed, then hesitated. “It’ll take me a minute to hack it, also, I don’t think you’ll like who’s voice it matches.”

“Who?” Batman asked, more in the form of a demand.

“Well, I have three candidates, but… I’m sorry, are we not gonna talk about how you locked up Tim? Isn’t that the point of a sidekick, to help? I mean, shit, Bruce. He’s gonna be crying about it for weeks.”

Bruce contemplated telling them to refrain from unnecessary talk on comms, but refrained to keep them in a decent mood. Bruce stopped in front of the metal door, reaching for the lever, but stopped when the red lights threatened to reveal his position if he pulled on a locked door. “King,” he started. The door’s light suddenly turned green and Bruce could almost hear King’s smirk. Bruce turned off the screen and stared at his hand. He only thought to himself for a moment, deciding that there was no more time for unspoken words or games, only justice. He yanked the lever down, moving to stand in the middle of the door frame as it slowly opened, the light from the various devices pouring in.

“More red lights. What a shocker,” King mumbled.

Bruce took in the room before him, only managing to register that it was a room before running to a tied up Jim. He went through his mental checklist in less than a second; he’s breathing, he looks to be unharmed, he sensed no danger around him, only the prickling sense of paranoia he always carried with him. With no more than a grunt, he moved to untie Jim.

“Room scanned. Approaching from behind,” King warned in a flat voice.

A different voice cut in, “Turn. Around,” the voice said, debilitatingly slow. The same voice that managed to irk Bruce everytime he had heard it, the voice that rang a loud warning in Bruce’s mind; “I know them.” The same voice he had been unconsciously chasing the entire night. Bruce slowly did as he was told, turning face to face with the Arkham Knight, a gun pointed at him, his white eyes glowed harshly against his mask.

“Who are you,” Bruce almost growled.

The Arkham Knight didn’t shift his posture, not even moving to straighten his neck. He only said, “You have no idea…”, trailing off as he moved his free hand to the side of his helmet, slowly pushing it up, and as he finished his sentence, “Do you, Bruce,” his voice modifier finally let the Knight’s real voice slip through, young, dark, and crisp.

Bruce stared, eyes widened and lips slightly parted, feeling his heart spike, drop, and break in the same motion. His breath held, he only stared, feeling the Joker’s ringing laughter split through his head. “Jason,” he almost stuttered, “But… you’re dead.” His mind tried so hard to comprehend what was in front of him. Jason’s eyes, once full of a fire he could never describe, now haunted him, looking empty and tired. His whole face had hardened, scars covering his entire face. Bruce’s first instinct was to tell him he looks fine, that he is safe and whole and how happy he was to finally see him; but the melded skin on his face, the one in the shape of a certain letter. Oh, how it stood out, swallowing his vision whole, the mark of the Joker.

The Jokers laugh cut in once again. “Let’s not fall out here, Bats! I might have told you a teeny, tiny lie…” Bruce’s mind was sharply telling him to shut up, but he appeared from behind Jason’s large form, moving in front of him. “But c’mon, look at the boy,” he exclaimed while ducking underneath Jason’s outstretched arm while he circled Bruce. “You did good. We did good! You should be proud,” he smiled the same smile that crawled around in his brain at night. Bruce was practically scratching at the walls of his mind, pleading for Joker to get away from him, to leave Jason alone.

“What’s the matter,” Jason taunted, “Lost for words? I expected more… I’m hurt.”

“Holy fuck.” King murmered, an octive so low their words could hardly be comprehended.

Bruce didn’t know what to say. “Joker sent me the film… I,” he fought a voice crack, “I saw him kill you.”

Jason’s nose flared, “Don’t you dare lie to me,” he shouted, moving forward and emphasizing his threat with a pointed movement of his gun. “How long did you wait before replacing me? A month?”

“No…” Bruce whispered.

Jason angrily persisted, ignoring Bruce’s denial, “A week? I trusted you… and you left me to die!”

“Jason… no,” Bruce started.

“You always told me, Bruce. Focus on what I want to achieve and it’ll happen. Well, you know what I want now, huh,” He moved forward. “I want you dead.” He shoved his gun underneath Bruce’s chin. Bruce reacted before he could think, slapping away his gun and slamming his head into Jason’s, followed by a mechanical hiss. Jason stumbled back for only a moment, before he reached into his holster to take out two more refined firearms. He angrily shot forward before regaining his surroundings. Bruce was gone. He breathed hard, anger seeping into every muscle of his body. “You can’t hide from me,” he shouted. “I will hunt you down!” The gun in his right hand whirred, elongating to form what seemed to be the upper receiver of a sniper rifle, his other gun forming into a long barrel and snapped onto the other piece with ease.

“Holy shit,” Dick breathed over comms, “He’s got two pistols that can turn into a sniper?”

“Noticed,” Bruce grunted, looking over from his new hiding spot. Jason looked around for a moment, a noticeable scowl forming onto his face before he ripped off the outer visor and once again covered his face, this time the helmet forming the faint shape of a skull. He grappled away, his form exactly like Bruce’s, just the way he taught him.

Neither of the three knew what to say, not knowing how to even comprehend such a horrid situation. None of them knew how to begin to address it, to question how he might had been alive. A beat of silence offered no moment of clarity or explanation. “So,” King started, offering some ease to the air, “Jason’s alive and hates you. Fantastic. He’s taken a sniping position up on that ledge. His guns are good, really good. I’d say you have four shots before it kills you.”

“Four?”

“Yes, Gray, four.” They turned their attention back to Bruce, fingers lightly tapping over a keyboard, “I’ve highlighted all suitable hiding spots and ledges, they’ll be your best shot at Jason.” Bruce grunted, slowly moving over and peaking out of his hiding spot. “Also,” King started again, “I’m going to look at the photage Joker sent to us. I never ran it through a check before because… in any case, I’ll have that soon.” Bruce didn’t get to reply because in a split second, he ducked back under, a shot whizzing above his head.

“Aww, what’s the matter? Can’t look me in the eyes?” Jason smirked to himself before shouting, “Come on!”

“Your goal is to not get shot at, Bruce.”

“Bruce, let me take it from here,” Dick grumbled. “Look a little behind you, to your left.” Bruce did so, eyeing a subtle ledge out of Jason’s sight. Without another word, he grappled onto it. “If you can get down to the platform by gliding when he even glances away, take the chance.”

Bruce eyed Jason for a long time, patiently playing the waiting game that he had taught Jason so, so long ago. A memory flitted to life. His bright eyes pierced his mind, his devious smile as he sat and watched Bruce stare right back at him. Jason managed three hours before finally becoming restless; his mood brightening when Bruce took him to get ice cream afterwards. Bruce’s eyes almost clouded with tears, so he sank back into his emotionless front.

Just like two years before, Jason grew tired easily, his eyes flickered in another direction and Bruce took the opportunity. He had no time to glide; he fell down, silencing his landing when his cape caught the air.

“Nice,” Dick commented. “All you have to do is make a run for it, get underneath him, grapple up, and take him down.”

“You sound too sure,” King added.

All three of them didn’t say anything afterwards, a silent acknowledgement that Jason was too tough to go down with one on-the-fly plan, but Bruce sprinted forward all the same. Staying directly out of his sight, he slid under his position and grappled up to the ledge he stood on. Bruce easily caught him by surprise, grasping the barrel of his gun with one hand and his forearm in another, he moved in a blur. “Jason,” his voice stern and cold, “I can help you!”

Jason grunted from the struggle, “There’s no…” another grunt, “Helping me!” He fired off a shot, causing Bruce to let go while Jason fell below, setting off a smoke bomb.

“King!”

“Getting a read, Bats.” King clicked a few times while Bruce’s vision quickly recovered. “He’s gone. On the other side of that wall.”

“How do we get behind it, sis?”

As if Dick had timed it perfectly, the wall suddenly flew up, revealing a longer sector of the room, and a shot flew past Bruce. He quickly fell, rolling to a stop, and moved behind a wall. He noticed drones; two of them, and Jason perched on another ledge. Bruce already knew what to do, he synced his bracer to his remote hacking device and scanned.

“I got it. Blinding it now.” King said.

Jason cursed under his breath, “You’re not the only one with sidekicks, Batman!” The drone quickly recovered and shot at Bruce, taking him by suprise. He easily rolled out of the way, barely dodging another shot from Jason as he ran to find cover. He silently hoped King would read his mind with both drones now shooting at him, feeling the painful shock of the bullets bouncing off his armor. His blood spiked, he was panicking. Bruce Wayne was panicking. All the thoughts of wanting to save Jason and save Gotham at the same time sent shockwaves throughout his entire body. He continued to run, dodge, roll, anything he could do to stay a step ahead of a swift death. He almost took another shot from Jason when King finally managed to regain the controls of the drones, silencing them. Bruce tried to calm his own heart rate, his own composure was slowly crumbling away. He had no time, no breath, no thoughts. He stayed under his newfound cover of a concrete blockade.

“Do you even know what he did to me?” Another shot whizzed above Bruce’s head. “The games he used to play? This is mercy compared to what he put me through.”

Bruce did his best to ignore Jason as he once again pondered his surrondings and saw the highlighted grates. Grates meant good cover, good cover meant an easy route to get to Jason. Good, he was thinking clearly again. “King, can you buy me any time?” King responded with something about how they practically owned time, he didn’t listen, and moved the drone to a shooting position. Jason was quicker, he shot at the drone before it fired, releasing another shot at the last drone to send it tumbling to the ground with a loud snap. Jason was fast, much faster than either of the three remembered, but Bruce managed to use the distraction to get into the grates, crawling through the narrow vents as he tried to get the image of a broken and bloody Jason out of his mind. Once he deduced that he was in a suitable position, he silently shuffled out of the grates, taking his time to not make a single noise. He looked up, seeing the perfect window of opportunity to grapple up, bursting through the glass, and managing to land right in front of Jason. “Joker got to you! I know what it’s like!” Bruce tried, struggling to match Jason’s strength as he tried to wrestle the gun away from him. He was so much stronger than he remembered, the thought threatening to send him back to memory lane.

“Don’t pretend to understand!” Jason shouted every angry insult he could think of during the battle for the upper hand. Bruce almost let out a sob thinking about losing Jason again to the madness of his own mind, but Jason quickly managed to break an arm away in Bruce’s moment of weakness, setting off another smoke bomb that stunned Bruce, once again disapperaing.

“Dammit,” Bruce muttered, grappling off to a more clear ledge. He looked around; Jason was gone again. No taunts, his thermal scanners didn’t pick up his signature. He almost wondered how Jason could get away that quickly, but he remembered that he taught that skill to him when he was young. When he was just a boy, a boy who didn’t deserve to be thrown into a never ending war, dragged into the depths of the darkness where Batman had dwelled for years. He once again blinked, trying to settle his mind back to the situation at hand.

“Bruce, did you hear that?” Bruce said nothing, so King continued. “He’s emotional, vulnerable.” Bruce nodded in understanding. He had used vulnerability in the past, manipulating others' sorrows to get what he wanted, his reasoning always leading back to the justice of Gotham. He could do that to Jason, who was already broken and fragile. He could hurt him more, scream everything Bruce thought about himself to Jason to enrage him. He already had hundreds of plans in his head on how it could go.

But he could not bring himself to do it.

“Another plan, King. Now.”

“Shit, then,” King grumbled. “Alright, I have an idea that builds off of the last one.” Bruce listened carefully as he snuck around the various obstacles, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon as he moved through to the next sector, everything perfectly captured by the skylights. “I could hack onto his comms, connect him with you, or me. It might be enough to talk him off of the ledge.” They paused, “I have so many things I want to say to him.”

“Me too.” Dick quietly chimed in.

Bruce gave it a thought as he rolled from one position of cover to the next, searching for any signs of Jason’s whereabouts, quickly and quietly knocking out the few militia that roamed. After dragging a body to a spot out of sight, “Don’t hurt him,” Bruce said in a low whisper. Neither King or Dick spoke for a moment, taking in the idea of Batman, Bruce Wayne, showing emotion. Bruce couldn’t help it. He felt the cold facade crumble into tiny bits, slowly wearing away the more he thought about Jason.

King finally responded, “I wouldn’t dream about it, Bats,” they flatly said.

“Do it. Dick, get me Jason’s location.”

“On it.” He proudly exclaimed. His search only took a few seconds. “Uh…”

“What?” Bruce breathed out harshly.

“It says… shit! It says he’s above you!”

Bruce didn’t even register what he said as a large weight brought him face to face with the ground, a few bones popping as he went down. Jason quickly got off of him, kicking him in the same spot he had shot Bruce in that sent his vision to straight white. Blinded, he tried his best to roll over, but Jason was quicker. He straddled Bruce, one hand squeezing his neck as the other pummeled his face, angry grunts following directly after each punch. Bruce struggled weakly to force Jason’s hand off of his throat - when he suddenly stopped trying. He didn’t know what was happening to him, he felt as if he almost deserved the pain. He wanted to shoulder all of Jason’s pain. He would rather take thrice the suffering Joker brought upon him then see Jason like this, fist beating the near life out of him, tears building up in his eyes. He heard faint calls of his name over the comms, no doubt Dick trying to bring him back from the corners of his mind, but he didn’t care. It was almost as though this was Bruce’s version of peace, as if he didn’t deserve any better.

“Jason?” A clear voice cut into Jason’s helmet, stopping his punch in mid-air. He frantically looked behind him, then around him. He stood off of Bruce, grabbing his sniper and aiming it wildly around the place.

“Who fucking said that,” Jason shouted with a newfound, deeper anger.

“Do you remember me?” King asked, voice weak.

Jason stumbled backwards slightly, giving Bruce enough time to recover, whatever that meant in his condition. He tried his best to sit up, gripping his neck in pain. Jason trained his gun on Bruce’s movement, but King cut in again. “It’s King, Jay. It’s your friend. Do you remember me?”

“Kingsley?” His gun drooped downwards, staring off into space as Bruce got up, still holding his side and wipping away the blood oozing down his lips. Jason almost seemed in a frantic daze, “What are you doing… where are you? Are you safe?”

Bruce fought through the ringing in his ears and his body’s pleas to stay down, somehow managing to stand up. As if Bruce managed to get a grip on Batman’s persona once more, he shot forward, sweeping Jason off his legs with a swift kick, and grappled away to a safer position with the distraction. He heard Jason roar with anger as he fell out of sight. “King, you’re working with him!” Jason’s visor once again lit up, searching for Bruce with a new ferocity. “You traitor! You were supposed to be my friend!”

“I am your friend, Jay, but this? This is all wrong. You’ve gotta stop.”

“Stop?” He was practically screaming at this point. “How long was it before he stopped looking for me? How long before he gave up on me!”

“He never gave up on you. It took two years, Jay. We convinced him to give up the search, but never on you. He was starving himself, he never slept…”

“No! Stop lying to me!” He shot in no paticular direction. “I can still hear him! He is still in my head, he’s laughing and it’s all his fault! Joker ruined me to spite you, Bruce!”

“Jay, I’m so sorry.” Dick cut in.

“And you! I was just your fucking replacement! Could never live up to the brilliant Dick Grayson’s legacy! Always in your damn shadow!”

Jason continued to shout into his visor, when a message flicked on Bruce’s own screen.

You’re connected.

His breath was once again caught in his throat. He tried to breathe out slowly, thinking about the words he would say to Jason. He thought about begging for him to forgive him, to tell him that he was all that gave him hope and laughter, the small moments with him gave him such a calm and happy demenor. Like he himself, Bruce Wayne, was happy. He couldn’t stand another minute reliving the moment where all of his joy had been stripped away for those long, long two years, the very second he had died. He gulped and cleared his throat. “Jay?”

Jason stopped shouting, his face flickered in confusion, then rage. “Where are you, you fucking bastard! Come out here! I promise I’ll make you suffer,” His voice ended in a growl.

“Do you remember what we did for your thirteenth birthday?” Jason stopped every movement in its tracks, Bruce continued to peer out from behind the railing he was hiding behind. “I took you to a baseball game, do you remember that? You went through a nine month long baseball phase, we were always playing catch instead of training. You almost wanted to become a baseball star instead of Robin…”

Jason’s angry scream cut through the air. “Don’t call me that! That’s not who I fucking am anymore!” He flailed around, aiming for anything in sight.

“Do you remember the time I let you drive the batmobile and you almost crashed it into the river? You wouldn’t stop telling King and Dick the story for weeks.”

“Shut it and come out and fight, old man!”

Bruce exhaled a long held breath, moving to come out from his hiding spot. Jason immedaitely trained his gun on Bruce, his hands in the air and slowly moving towards him. “Jason,” he started, “I just want to tell you the things I wanted to say when you went missing.”

Jason gave a dry and sadistic laugh, not moving his gun. “What? Finally gonna tell me that you wanted me to suffer? That I was a sacrifice?” Jason shot at Bruce, and he let it hit, chipping into his armor that covered his shoulder. Bruce didn’t even flinch as he continued to move towards Jason. “The Joker made me hate you, and you fucking let him, Bruce!” His voice was cracking.

The walls continued to pick, pick, pick down.

Bruce continued, almost unphased by his words. “I want to tell you that you’re all that brought me joy for so long.” Bruce took a step forward, Jason taking one back and firing another shot that ricocheted off his stomach, the two of them locked in something of a step off. “I want you to know that I am shattered because of what happened. I tried so hard just to protect you but I failed.” Jason fired off another shot, this time hitting him right on his bat symbol. “I can only think about all the times I swore that it would be okay. I’m nothing but a liar.”

“Stop!” His voice broke, “Stop talking to me!” He threw down his gun and sprinted towards Bruce, tackling him.

That was it. The walls were down, emotions flooding his mind as every thought hit him at once. He had just heard Jason, who he truly admired for his strength and endurance, scream at him with all his willpower to be quiet. When his voice cracked in anguish, Bruce felt his heart split in two, but he kept going. He stood up, weakly blocking Jason’s half hearted punches. “I know I put you through a nightmare,” Jason swung again, a cry scratching to rip out of his throat. Bruce quickly dodged and pushed Jason away. “I caused you so much pain.” Jason tried once again, giving the loosest punch of the night. Bruce moved to the side, only slightly, and gripped Jason by the shoulders before moving his hands to wrap around his head. “I took you for granted. I’m so sorry, Jason.”

“You did this to me!” Jason flailed against him, hitting him with almost no force. Bruce ripped off his visor and aggressively cupped his face, forcing Jason to look at him.

“I love you, Jason.”

Jason scoffed, tears rolling down his cheeks. He tried his best to form a coherent sentence, his face flashing from anger to sadness over and over again until he finally broke down in a sob, his knees giving out. Bruce was there to catch him, bringing him into a tight embrace as he felt his own tears escape, slowly dripping onto his mask.

“You left me to rot in that abandoned wing of Arkham for over a year! With him!” His fingers dug into Bruce’s armor with enough strength to leave small indentments as he buried his face in Bruce’s chest.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Bruce shushed as he lazily combed over Jason’s unkempt hair.

“You left me. I always feared you would.” His voice was now strained, soft and broken.

“Jason, I’m here now. I’m never letting you go again.”

Jason seemingly nodded against his chest, but he didn’t know why. Jason just knew that he had finally felt comfort in Bruce again, the flame of anger subsiding for only this moment. “I thought you’d finally be the dad I’ve been wanting.” Jason almost scoffed to himself, but he couldn’t over his tears. “I was young and dumb. Maybe I’m still dumb for thinking that.”

Bruce shook his head, a soft smile gracing his lips. “I’d be a lucky man to have you as a son.”

Jason finally huffed out a happy sigh, but it soon faded away. “I can’t forgive you, Bruce.”

“I know,” he said softly.

“Can we try again anyways?”

Bruce didn’t verbally respond, only tucked him in even tighter. Jason smiled against his chest, the soft beat of his heart through his layered armor lulled away the voices in his head that barraged him for not getting his revenge. He didn’t care. He never knew this was the closure he needed.

Bruce knew it would be a long road to recovery for Jason, for them. He expected the screams, the yelling, the punching. He expected Jason to let his anger out on him every day until he wore himself out. He knew how long it would take Jason to forgive him, if he even could, and yet he could only mumble the same prayer over and over again as he clutched Jason tight.

Please let me keep my son this time.

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years ago

Text

"you were missed, you know.” the voice is light, balancing on the edge of airy like a coin on its rim, in a way only careful practice yielded. so jason whirls around, faster than he normally would in a neatly-pressed suit and loose dress shoes.

there’s a woman, close cropped red hair swinging into her face and pulling at the corners of her mouth until her expression is as severe as her form. there’s a scar on her jaw and, oh, the memory tumbles into his head as if pushed. kate kane, proof that vigilantism is genetic, once tugged jason into into her side and pulled him away from a particularly leering investor at function. the bite of her nails on his skin was a thousand times sweeter than the man’s smile.

she smirks. “hi.”

“haven’t seen you in a while,” jason responds, attempting casual and instead tripping, falling into his crime lord persona, since he doesn’t know how else to interact with people when he’s jason peter todd-wayne.

“not since you died,” kate remarks and damn, right for the gullet. “you’ve grown up.”

jason shrugs, suddenly feeling thirteen years old again, suddenly feeling all of four feet, eight inches in the face of her candidness. “time’s funny like that.”

she eyes him carefully, trying to fish for the truth in what she believes is a lie wrapped in a careful quip. jason doesn’t blame her: he’s cultivated quite a reputation for himself. but he stripped the sarcasm from his words before he spoke them, and their rawness is shrouded in the bubbling champagne and crystal chandelier around them, but it’s no less present for anyone who knows how to peel the veil back.

“you were missed,” she repeats, satisfied with his answer. “not sure anyone’s told you that since you’ve come back. your family’s a stubborn bunch. i just wanted to make sure.”

“make sure i knew i was missed?” jason clarifies, feeling a little foolish, because dick wouldn’t beg to save his life but there were a few times that his words came close to pleas, and tim had made it clear how much he’d upheld the pedestal he’d put jason on, and alfred had actually told him that to his face.

but this was the first time he found himself truly believing those familiar words. he hadn’t known kate, not at all. and yet, she nodded, clapped him on the shoulder once, twice, then left, completely unaware of the pit of resentment she’d carved out of jason’s stomach and thrown on the ground until jason felt like he’d slip on it if he moved, if he breathed.

she didn’t look back, but jason’s eyes didn’t stop following her until she was out of sight.

"you were missed, you know.” jason doesn’t startle, his training is etched into every scar decorating his skin, and there are times that he grips and holds onto those scars like a lifeline. he’s far too practiced to flinch, but he’d be lying to himself if his heart didn’t skip a beat.

he forgave himself in the next second, though. cassandra cain could make men much more experienced than him recoil. she appeared soundlessly, and folded down beside him with a grace that jason hadn’t seen anywhere outside his family. the amount of space she left between them, the relaxed posture that left visible tension cording through her arms like pulling steel taffy, the tilt to her body that made jason automatically want to open his mouth and let his tumultuous thoughts come out as an oil spill: right now, cass had dick grayson’s brushtrokes all over her.

“dick put you up to this?”

cass shook her head, then bit her lip in a considering movement. jason wondered if he’d practiced, because bruce had long since broken that dangerous habit out of his children.

“i am still working on comfort. assurance,” she said, rifling through the words like flash cards, picking the most accurate ones. “i thought i’d practice.”

“oh? and why exactly do you think i need comfort.”

“i overheard your argument,” she admitted, “with bruce.”

“i didn’t think anyone was there.”

“i didn’t mean to,” she said. “sorry. but i heard what you said.”

jason scoffed. “prove me wrong. one step forward, two steps back with that dense motherfucker.”

“sign of protection,” cass said. “not distrust.”

out of everyone to say that to him, cass was probably the least likely. jason had thought she, of all people, would be on his side after he found the microchip in his helmet. she, of all people, would value independence after being owned for so long.

“by the time he found you, you were dead. and he missed you more than anything. he will never let that happen again.”

“oh yeah? privacy mean nothing to him? i know he’s crazy about this stuff but come on. there’s a limit.”

“you are not relying on him because of this.” cass stood up, stretching her back, though jason was sure she really didn’t have to. “he is relying on you. let him.”

“you were missed, you know.”

“what, speaking from personal experience? i ain’t you, west.” jason could feel the gentle thrum of electricity behind him, making his hair stand on edge. two steps backward, and he’d be pulled into that void, that black hole of energy, that swirling vortex of pure power condensed into something human-shaped.

except he wouldn’t. it was just wally. just dick’s best friend joining him outside on the balcony. jason didn’t know how dick and tim could stand to be around speedsters willingly, for fun.

“i mean, sort of,” wally shrugged. “but me and you had very different experiences.”

“yeah, west, i’m not sure who else has been stuck in the fucking speedforce.”

wally snorted, an if only you knew hidden in plain sight. jason decided he really didn’t want to know. “i mean there’s that,” the speedster concedes, “but also, everyone forgot i existed. that didn’t happen with you.”

“you sure about that?”

“hey,” wally eyed him, his eyes suddenly sharp. “don’t start that shit. i was erased from the memories of everyone i loved. you did nothing but stay in the memories of your family.”

“now i know we’re talking about two different things.”

“jason,” wally sighed, and the sheer exasperation pouring off him made jason want curl his fingers, bring them up for a swing, taste the bite of pain that would prick at his knuckles, nevermind the fact that wally would dodge anyway. “don’t do that.”

he turned to face the speedster, arms crossed deliberately over his chest. “where the hell do you get off acting like dick?”

“you’re more like dick than you realize,” wally said, “and i spent half my childhood dealing with his moods. actually, i still do.”

“do you have a point?” jason snapped, starting to get irritated. he wasn’t sure why. he’d spent his entire life one one end of a scale, dick grayson on the other. he’d always tipped his end down. this was the first time someone was telling him the scale was even.

“just because your family didn’t mourn the way you wanted them to,” wally said, “doesn’t mean they didn’t mourn you.”

“fuck you.”

“they loved you. and they missed you,” wally continues, steamrolling right over jason in a way most speedsters were prone to do. “there’s no minimum requirement for loss. no ‘if you didn’t do this, then you didn’t grieve me.’ that’s not even a situation, ever.”

“so that makes everything bruce did okay?” jason sputtered

“not at all. god knows i disagree with bruce on more things than i tolerate. but this is one thing you can’t fault him on.”

it wasn’t that easy, though. jason wanted to scream it at wally’s face, it wasn’t that easy. it wasn’t about whether bruce loved him enough,,,,except maybe it was. jason wanted bruce to have loved him enough to make a difference in gotham. jason wanted bruce to have missed him enough to change things, because change meant that bruce had been so hurt by his death that he refused to let it happen to anyone else again.

bruce had made a vow after his parents died. the fifteen year old inside jason was begging bruce why he hadn’t been afforded the same devotion. jason was his son.

“just something to think about,” wally said, then stepped backward, making to go inside where dick was calling him. “you were afforded the luxury of coming back with a place left empty in your family for you. you didn’t have to make it, like i did.”

“being dead, then coming back wrong isn’t a fucking luxury,” jason snarled.

with a shrug, wally turned, a little faster than the average human, lightning sparking at his heels as he left jason alone on the balcony. “depends on your definition of wrong.”

jason get therapy. please. also happy deathday

honestly i couldn’t decide whose side of the argument i was on, jason’s or wally’s.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption

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sacredsorceress · 4 years ago

Text

Secrets (Four) || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: when you wake up in the avengers compound after being saved by bucky, sam and nat, you discover that something’s changed.

a/n: thank you for all your feedback!! reblogs and replies are super appreciated!

word count: 2.7k

warnings: arguing, swearing, angst

Prologue, One, Two, Three

masterlist || request || taglist

Opening your eyes, blinking to clear your vision, you were immediately met with ice coating the ceiling above you despite feeling as though you were locked in a sauna.

“What the-”

Sitting up in your bed, you tried to piece together where you were, why you were here and what had just happened, but all you could see was the concrete room you were sat in with nothing but a bright light shining above you and frost coating every inch of the room.

Suddenly the events of the day all came back to you- the men in your house, being kidnapped, being locked in a container to freeze to death... the truth about your husband.

Bucky.

The last thing you remembered were his eyes meeting yours on the other side of the glass.

Despite years of marriage and precious memories, all that flooded your brain were the images of the Winter Soldier- masked and ready to kill. All you could hear were the screams of his victims and those who fled at the sight of him.

All you could feel was fear.

“You’re awake.” You heard an unfamiliar voice declare.

Snapping your attention towards the door of the room you hadn’t even noticed was there, you recognized the very familiar red-headed Avenger standing in the doorway.

“Wait, you’re.... are you-” You stumbled over your words. “Where am I?”

Carefully stepping into the room, closing the door behind her, Natasha slowly made her way over to your bed.

“You’re at the Avengers Compound.” She informed you. “Do you remember anything?”

You thought then that she might have been glad to learn that you had retained your memory, but you sure wished you hadn’t.

“More than I’d like to.” You said.

Shooting you a sad smile, her gloved hands pulled up the chair next to your bed, seating herself beside you. As she did you finally took in her appearance, noting the large jacket she was wearing, the hood over her head and thick gloves on her hands, meanwhile you felt as though you were soaking in your own sweat.

“God, how are you wearing that?” You asked, pointing at her jacket. “It’s so hot in here.”

Chuckling, she leaned back in her chair.

“Well when you’re ninety degrees, I guess an ice rink would feel a little warm.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you sat up straighter in your bed.

“Ninety degrees?” You asked. “Shouldn’t I be dead by now?”

“That’s what we all thought.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you remembered the feeling of the frost hitting your skin when you were enclosed in the container, the sounds of the cold air rushing out of its walls. You were trapped, feeling the biting cold in a way you never had before. So cold that when the frost began to form over the glass, your husband’s eyes meeting yours, all you could feel was the cooling sense of exhaustion wash over you as you closed your eyes and fell into a deep slumber.

“How long have I been out?” You asked.

Just as Natasha was opening her mouth, you heard a voice coming from the other side of the room.

“Two days.”

Your eyes snapping open, you turned your attention immediately to the man in the doorway. When you saw your husband standing in the threshold, you felt your heart begin to race in your chest as you scrambled back against the bed frame.

“You.” You said, swallowing, the word venomous in your mouth.

Hearing the word slip out of your mouth almost as though it were a cruse, Bucky’s eyes widened and he began to feel his heart beat against his chest.

He knew then that the consequence of the secret he had been keeping for years was now staring him back in the face.

“Y/n-” He eased, taking another step forward.

Grabbing the pillow from behind your back, you tossed it at him.

“You lied to me!” You shouted. “You fucking lied to me all these years. I- it’s sick!”

Letting the pillow hit his chest, he began to feel sick.

He had known deep down that someday his past would come back to haunt him. Even deeper down he knew that someday you would discover the truth, but he had hoped to be gone by then, leaving you to hate him once he could no longer feel your wrath. He had shoved down the idea of the look on your face when you found out for years, but now as he stood there, his own nightmares playing out before him, he just wished he had told the truth sooner.

The consequence of losing you and never having you was better than knowing your love and having it tainted with hatred by his own hand.

“Doll,” He said your pet name, his shoulders slouching.

“No!” You shouted, pushing yourself off of the bed. “You don’t get to call me that anymore! God, did ever even feel bad about lying to your own wife?”

He did.

He felt awful every time he made up some lie about his past. He felt awful every time he told you he had no family, no friends. He even felt awful every morning when he lied to you about where he was going off to work every day.

It had been eating away at him for years.

He had told himself that it was for the best, but he realized now that he didn’t do it for you, but entirely for himself. He had been so incredibly selfish and you were now paying for his crimes.

“Of course I did.” Bucky said so low, it was nearly a whisper. “Of course I felt bad, Y/n.”

Before you could reply, you heard another knock on the door, it cracking open slightly.

“Oh thank God.” Natasha said from her seat when she saw Bruce and Sam.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you turned away from your husband, instead focussing your attention on the two Avengers now entering the icy space.

Before anyone could speak, however, the man you recognized as Captain America made his way over to you, reaching his gloved hand out for you to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said, giving you a soft smile. “I’m Sam. I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances, but...”

Glaring at Bucky, you shook Sam’s hand.

“Sam.” You said. “It’s so nice to finally meet you too.”

Your eyes still on your husband, the three others in the room glanced between one another before Bruce cleared his throat.

“Y- you’re probably wondering about the ice in the room,” Bruce said

“You could say that.”

“Well, while you were out for the past couple of days we had some of the best doctors we know examine you,” Bruce explained. “I understand that this may be... difficult... to understand, but this- this ice- it’s-”

“It’s coming out of you.” Sam said finally, finishing Bruce’s sentence for him.

Quirking your eyebrows at the three members of the group of Avengers, you thought for a second before shaking your head, laughing.

“You’re joking, right?” You asked. “You have to be kidding.”

This couldn’t be real. There was no possible way you actually had ice coming out of your body. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t real.

Standing up from her seat, Natasha crossed her arms.

“When you were in cryo, you were in temperatures nobody comes back from.” She said, seriously. “You should be dead right now. No one knows why you’re still here.”

Lifting your hands from your sides to stare at your palms, you attempted to digest the information the three of them had just fed you.

You were alive when every logical answer said you shouldn't have been. You had abilities that no other living person did.

You were supposed to be at home, spending the weekend with your children. You were supposed to wait for your completely honest husband to walk in the doors of your home and kiss him hello.

But now you were standing there, being told that you had changed- transformed. You were different than you were before. You didn’t feel warm and fuzzy, but cold and distraught.

Feeling the anger course through your veins, tears meeting your eyes, you stared at your palms and in a flash, frost burst forth from the center of your hand.

Jumping back, you rapidly closed your hands into a fist, feeling your heart thumping against your chest.

“I understand that this is hard to take in-” Banner attempted.

“I’m... I’m a monster.” You said, staring up at them with wide eyes. “I have ice coming out of my hands!”

Gazing at you from the other side of the room, watching the fear in your eyes behind the tears begging to break free, Bucky felt incredibly guilty.

He had known what you were going through because he had gone through the same himself. He had woken up only to discover that he had become a super soldier with a metal arm- that he was no longer Bucky Barnes- but someone else- someone different.

He would have never wished the experience on his worst enemy, never mind the woman he cared for most in the world, but you were experiencing it nonetheless. You were in it because of him.

He had told himself that he was trying to protect you, but in the end he had forced you into a life you had never asked for.

He felt his heart shatter in his chest watching you fall apart before everyone.

All he wished was for him to be able to go over to you, to hold you in his arms despite the cold bite of ice that was sure to frost over him as soon as his skin met yours, but he knew he couldn’t. He knew you didn’t want him to.

“Y/n that’s not true.” Sam said. “I know it might feel that way, but you’re still you and Bruce is going to figure out a way for you to control it. I know it seems bad, but you’re going to be okay. You’re a part of our family now. We’ll figure it out, alright?”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you nodded.

“Okay.”

As much as you were in shock, you trusted the three individuals in front of you. They hadn’t given you a reason not to- they had risked their lives to save you and even now when you felt they owed you nothing, they were working their best to help you.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” You said. “Really. I think I just need some space right now.”

“I understand.” Sam nodded. “If you need anything, we’ll be right outside.”

Without a word the others followed him as he left the room and you slowly made your way over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it, placing your head in your hands.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

Shaking your head you pulled your face out of your hands.

“What part of ‘I need space’ don’t you understand, Buck?” You asked.

You heard his footsteps slowly cross over the room to you.

“I need to say something-”

Of course he did.

“Oh that’s rich, James!” You scoffed. “Funny how now you have something to say. Funny how you didn’t say anything when we started dating, or got married, or God- had children together.”

“Y/n-”

“It’s just so insane to me how you could go all this time without saying anything.” You continued. “How could you even look yourself in the mirror-”

“Fuck, Y/n, just listen to me!” He shouted, standing in front of your spot on the bed. “I fucked up really bad- I know that. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but can’t you see why I did it? I was so afraid you’d be ashamed of me because of what I am and I thought I was protecting you-”

Feeling the ice beginning to shoot out of your palm, you pushed yourself off of the bed, pointing your finger into your husband’s chest.

“I’m ashamed to have a liar as a husband.” You said, knowing just how much the words stung for him, but you felt nothing but ice flowing through you at the moment in the heat of rage. “How could you think this was protecting us? How could you think keeping the truth from me was protecting our kids? You not only put me in danger but my kids, Buck.”

“They’re my kids too, Y/n.” Bucky said.

“Are they?” You asked. “Because I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

You watched as he stepped back, his back hitting the icy wall behind him. He had known you were angry, he even knew that he deserved every harsh word you were throwing at him, but to hear you dismiss him so entirely- to almost denounce him from your life- made him feel a pain that even his worst days in Hydra or in recovery could never rival.

“I- I mean I don't even know who I am anymore, Buck.” You said throwing your arms in the air. “I mean look at this. Look at this room! Nobody can even touch my hand without gloves or without bundling up like they’re going to the fucking North Pole!”

Backing away from him, you held your face in your hands once again.

“I don’t even recognize myself and I’m all alone.” You said, lowering your voice. “I- I can’t even hug my kids- I can’t see my kids. It’s so hot in this room to me but everything just feels so cold and empty. I just wish you didn’t fucking lie to me because it would be so much easier to not hate you the way I do right now. Looking at you makes me want to scream but, God, I feel so alone.”

Beginning to feel a sob catch in your throat, your head still in your hands and the tears turning to ice when they met your palms, you felt the cool touch of Bucky’s vibranium hand meet your arm.

Shrugging him off, you shook your head.

“As much as I fucking hate you right now, you can’t touch me, James.” You said. “I’ll just hurt you.”

He knew that. He knew the biting sting of your ice against his skin. He had spent the past two days sitting by your unconscious side and no matter how many times the others told him to keep his gloves on at all times, your touch mattered more. They brought more warmth than any glove could- no matter how cold your hands were.

Seeing you breakdown in front of him, despite all of the harsh words you had thrown at him, he was sure he felt his heart break in his chest. You didn’t deserve this pain. You didn’t deserve this suffering. You didn’t deserve to be alone.

Resting his vibranium hand on your arm once again, the frost slowly creeping up his arm, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Wrapping both of his arms around you, he pulled you into his embrace. Rather than shrugging him off and pulling away, you wrapped your arms tightly around his torso, digging your face into his bundled up chest, sobbing.

Feeling a chill run throughout his body at your touch, he rest his chin on the top of your head, running his frozen vibranium arm up and down your back.

Although he knew that all was not forgiven, and that things would not be the same or even okay for a long time- if at all- all that mattered to him in that moment was that you weren’t alone. No matter the ice that overtook his body when you were in his embrace, the warmth that you brought him would never grow cold.

Going into cyro ten thousand times would be worth just one second of your peace and he would do whatever it took for you to forgive him for his mistakes that you now bore the consequences of.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes angst

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marauderundercover · 3 years ago

Text

Taking Chance Ch. 15: Problem Solving (Last name: Wayne)

AO3

Walking into class after lunch break, Marinette keeps her head down. No need to bring attention to the fact that she’s late...again. Sliding into her seat, she breathes a sigh of relief that Mme. Bustier is also late. Probably making copies. Either way, it had saved her from getting in trouble for being late again. Opening her bag to take out her stuff, she winces as Lila’s voice pierces the room.

“And then, he said he missed me so much that he cried!” She exclaims, clutching her hands together and sighing. Marinette rolls her eyes, certain that whoever it is either doesn’t actually know Lila, or doesn’t know Lila. Either way….lie.

“I still can’t believe you’re official with THE Tim Drake!” Alya exclaims. Marinette immediately chokes on air, her entire face turning bright red as she coughs and attempts to catch her breath. It doesn’t help that everyone is suddenly staring at her and waiting to see if she’s okay. The story pops back into her mind. Yeah, sure Lila. Tim Drake is dating you- an annoying little kid. Sure.

“Are you okay?” Rose asks once Marinette finally catches her breath. She smiles awkwardly, not ready for a confrontation with Lila over this, but also wary to let anyone spread this specific rumor.

“Yeah, it’s just-” Marinette pauses and sighs. This wouldn’t be the high road, but she had to watch out for her brother. “I’m just not sure Lila is telling the truth.” Chaos erupts around her. She chances a glance at Adrien, surprised to see his supportive smile. Well, almost. They had gotten closer. And sure, he’s said he liked her in Gotham, but she kinda thought he just blurted it out after seeing she was Ladybug. She wasn’t quite sure if he actually liked her.

“I-I just don’t understand why you hate me!” Lila sobs.

“I don't-” Marinette tries to say. Keyword- tries.

“Girl, you should apologize. Lila's been talking about Tim since before we even went to Gotham! They’re super serious now. They have been for almost two years.” Alya says.

“No they’re not! Do you seriously think an almost twenty year old CEO would date some fifteen year old kid from halfway across the world? I doubt Tim’s ever even been to Italy or France since becoming Co-CEO.” Marinette rambles, knowing with absolute certainty that she was right.

“Marinette! You’re kind of being mean. Lila says-” Rose tries to say.

“Just because Lila said something doesn’t mean it’s true!” Marinette cries, her frustration threatening to overwhelm her.

“Girl, you seriously need to apologize.” Alya says softly. Marinette’s jaw drops.

“For what?” She scoffs, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “For seeing the truth and calling it out? For not bending to Lila’s every whim?”

“For being a bad friend.” Alya says simply. Marinette freezes. A bad friend? Really? Her? A bad friend? How? All she’d ever done was try to be good. To be nice. To be perfect.

“Whatever.” She finally says, standing and grabbing her stuff. She storms out of the room, ignoring the yells of protest from her classmates. She thinks she hears Adrien, but she ignores him too and continues on her rampage past everyone, including Mme. Bustier. She doesn’t stop until she’s in the basement of the school. The only thing down here were a few vending machines. She tries to calm herself down, knowing her anger is unnecessary. But it’s hard.

She wants to let herself be mad, she should be able to be mad about this! She was always trying to be a good friend and do things for other people and help the class even when she didn’t have time. Even if it meant missing out on sleep or doing something she wants to do, she put them first. Always. But somehow, Lila came out on top. She always comes out on top. They always believed Lila. Always.

“You should leave Marinette, before you attract an akuma.” Tikki says calmly. Marinette blinks, trying to figure out- Oh. Kaalki. Duh. Quickly calling on her transformation, Marinette portals into her room at the manor before a butterfly can come infect her. The second she lands, she calls off her transformation and continues her pacing.

“I’ve always been there for them. Always helped them. Always cared. How is calling Lila out being a bad friend? She’s not even my friend!” Marinette rambles with a huff.

“Maybe you should talk to your family- get their opinions.” Tikki suggests. Marinette starts to turn her down, then realizes she has to say something. Lila’s telling lies about Tim. Lies that could get him in some serious trouble.

“I have to tell Tim! If Alya publishes anything about Lila and Tim he could get in a LOT of trouble.” Marinette rambles, throwing her door open. She blinks in surprise at Tim, standing there frowning with a huge cup of what she assumes is coffee.

“When’d you get here?” He asks, and she can tell he’s much too tired to take this seriously right now.

“I’ll fill you in later, Timmy. Get some sleep.” She says, giving him a quick hug before darting around him and down the stairs. She had to tell someone who could deal with it. Not that she wanted Lila to get in trouble or anything like that, but...she didn’t want them to be able to lie about her family anymore. She’d accept all of those other stupid lies if she just stopped lying about the Waynes.

Running past the ballroom, a sudden movement makes her backtrack and actually glance into the ballroom. Her eyes widen when she notices the movement she caught was Dick….hanging from the chandelier. Of course. Well, he’s not going to be much help, she thinks, shaking her head and turning to try and find someone else. Maybe Mr.- maybe her dad was around. Now if she was a superhero/co-CEO combo where would she spend her free time. She hums, before deciding to check his study. If he wasn’t in there, she’d just go through and check the Batcave. He had to be in one of those places. She knocks on his study door, completely expecting silence, so she’s confused when she hears him call:

“Come in.” She raises an eyebrow. Okay, so he is in the study. Pushing the door open, she smiles at him, rubbing the back of her neck nervously at the brief look of complete and total shock on his face.

“Uh, hi Dad.” She says, rocking back onto her heels nervously. He controls his face quickly, gesturing for her to shut the door.

“Marinette. When did you arrive?” He asks, carefully examining her. She turns red when she realizes- he’s looking for injuries. Since going back to Paris, she hadn’t really communicated with her family unless she was injured or unable to fight. Promising herself to change that, she sits in the chair in front of his desk.

“Five minutes ago, maybe? I’m not sure. I just-” She pauses and frowns, realizing that her emotions almost got the better of her today. She almost let her frustration win. Over something silly. Shaking the thoughts away, she says “I was upset. Lila was lying again and usually I can just ignore her but this time… She was telling everyone that she’s dating Tim, and that they’re really serious and have been for almost two years.” Her dad’s eyebrows twitch slightly.

“Isn’t Lila your age?” He asks.

“Well, she’s already fifteen. But still, it would put Tim in a really bad light if Alya posted it somewhere and knowing Alya, she’s going to post it. Because they all believe Lila. And I tried to explain to them that Tim is quite a bit older than us and he’s an actual CEO and we’re just kids to him and he hasn’t even been in Italy or France and-” She pauses, letting herself take a breath. “I just think it’s wrong for her to lie about my family.”

---

Bruce tries hard to hide his shock. His daughter, who he’d known for less than two months, came all the way to Gotham because someone lied about Tim. It wasn’t the first time someone lied about the Wayne family, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time. But the fact that his daughter was so upset that she had to come here...he was not going to let this slide. Wayne manor was a safe place, so he would make sure Marinette was able to breathe and relax a little before going home. And he was going to plan a way to stop the lies, to help Marinette.

“How can I help?” He asks, wanting to help but also wanting to make sure he does not overstep. He had heard her explaining to Damian why she let the girl get away with so many lies- it was an attempt to stop a mass akumatization. Bruce also wanted to avoid something like that, which is why he would follow his daughter’s lead.

“I don’t know! I know if I reveal everything it’s- it’s gonna be bad. I don’t know if we’d be able to handle something like that right now. Two of our temporary holders, people I trust a lot, are out of town. I don’t really trust anyone else and I’m certain we’d need their powers for the fallout from Lila’s kingdom falling.” She explains, bouncing her leg up and down as she glances around the room, possibly to come up with a plan. Bruce knew that he used a similar method when he was younger.

“What about the rumors related to the family? Do you think it would be safe to end those?” He asks, a plan beginning to form. But he’d have to get her permission. It would change many things.

“Well….yes. Yes, I think it would be safe. And even if it wasn’t, I know the fallout wouldn’t be anywhere as bad as if some of the other lies came to light.” She says. Bruce nods.

“Very well. Marinette, I believe I have something that might work, but I’m unsure if you’ll agree.” He says.

“We tell them I’m a Wayne.” Marinette says simply. Bruce blinks in surprise. It had definitely been what he was thinking, but thinking it and hearing his daughter say it out loud as if it was the most simple thing ever, those were two completely different things. He’s silent, trying to gather his words again when Marinette chuckles nervously. “I mean, we could say that I know you guys. Cause that’s not a lie.” She says. He sighs, realizing that his silence may have hurt her.

“Marinette, honey, you’re a Wayne. I want you to be one, and if you do as well, then of course we can tell them. I can even arrange for nondisclosure statements to be signed by the students in your class and the faculty. In case you’re not quite ready for the entire world to know.” He says quietly, hoping his voice is soft enough to reassure her. Her tense shoulders fall as she relaxes, her smile easing back into a natural one. Good. He didn’t mess up this time.

“Can we really do that? I do want to be a Wayne, it’s just. I’m not sure I’m ready for the world to look at me.” She says quietly. At this, he quirks a smile.

“If Adrien Agreste’s father is able to get an entire school to sign NDA’s about the boy’s lunch habits, I’m certain that having them sign an NDA when it’s for your safety will be no issue. Besides, if anyone breaks the NDA with malicious or ill intent, we can sue them.” He says simply.

“Oh, well, suing them seems a bit much.” She mumbles. He’s about to argue, when she shrugs. “But it also makes sense. Let’s do this.” He’s instantly proud of the determined look in her eyes. From saving her city to fighting lying bullies, his daughter was so much stronger than she thought.

---

Walking into class the following Monday was nerve wracking. It was almost the end of the school year, so she could’ve asked her Dad to wait until the next year to fix it. But she didn’t want to chance Lila lying about Tim all summer. Or anyone else in her family. Lila could use anyone else- even MDC- to get ahead, Marinette didn’t care. But she was done with Lila using her family. Originally, she had wanted to just do it quietly. Tell the teacher and have her pass out the forms. That’s probably how she would have done it too if her brothers hadn’t found out.

Now, her entire family was coming. She was cautious, but they promised to keep their emotions in check while they were in town. And they could always portal out if things got too tense. But, her brothers were drama queens. So it just made sense that they wanted to give her class the papers in person. She suspected Tim also wanted the chance to glare at Lila in person, and she wasn’t about to deny him that.

“Okay class! We have a few guests coming in today. They’ll be here in a couple minutes and I want you all to give them your full attention and respect.” Mme. Bustier announces, clapping her hands to get their attention. Marinette lets out a shaky breath. Here goes nothing. She tunes out the chatter of her classmates, keeping her eyes on the door. Waiting. Watching. Finally, she sees their shadows outside and her leg starts bouncing. Maybe she shouldn’t have let all of them get involved….

“Oh my god! That’s Bruce Wayne!” Alya yells as her family walks in. Marinette winces slightly at the instant fangirling from many of her classmates. She risks a glance at Lila and tries not to laugh at how pale the Italian girl had gotten. In fact, she looked a little green.

“Hello everyone! My name is Bruce Wayne, though I think you all should remember me from your trip to Gotham.” He says with a wide (fake) smile. Marinette wrinkles her nose. She doesn’t like this fake side of her Dad. She’d much rather watch him be overly serious than use that weird fake smile.

“We’ve brought some forms for everyone in this class to sign, as well as the faculty. The rest of the school won’t be required to sign these forms because it is assumed that what we are about to tell you will not go outside of this room.” Tim starts to explain, no coffee in his hand for once. “I know that it will not go outside of this room because these are NDAs, and we can and will take legal action against anyone who tells someone outside of this room about this information.” Everyone is silent, and while Marinette herself feels tense, she notices that most of her class just looks excited. Except Adrien, who was glancing back at her and looking worried. They’d already talked about this, but he was still worried. He seemed to think that this was one of her worst ideas, but honestly, Marinette didn’t care. She wanted to be able to (kind of) openly accept the other half of her family.

“Oh my god, is Tim about to propose?” Alya loudly whispers to Lila. Marinette can’t help it. She snorts. Out loud. Her face instantly heats as the entire room turns to look at her.

“Oh, uh, sorry?” She says, though it’s definitely more of a question than a statement. She wasn’t sorry.

“I am not about to propose. I’m actually not currently seriously seeing anyone, but there is a boy back home who I’ve had a few dates with.” Tim says. Marinette watches as Alya tries to say something, only to be stopped by Nino gently patting her hand and shaking his head. Good. Maybe they’d get through this without anyone getting akumatized. She glances at Lila again, rolling her eyes at the obviously fake upset look on her face. Is she seriously acting like Tim is cheating on her? In front of Tim? How dumb is she?

“I actually came to have everyone sign an NDA since my youngest daughter is in your class.” Her dad says, metaphorically dropping the bomb. He didn’t just drop it though, he chucked it at the class. The effect is immediate, the entire class erupting in whispers. Mme. Bustier tries, without luck, to gain control of the class. Marinette watches as Damian, who looked ready to murder any and all of her classmates, whistles an insanely high pitch. Wincing slightly, she makes eye contact with him and quirks an eyebrow. He shrugs, but it had been successful. The class was silent once again.

“When is she starting here?” Alya asks, obviously going into reporter mode. Marinette makes eye contact with her Dad, watching as he barely quirks an eyebrow, a silent question. One last chance to back out. She nods for him to continue. She wanted this.

“She actually already goes here. She just decided it was time to embrace the Wayne name.” He says, nodding at her. Marinette lets out a grounding breath and stands, quickly moving over to stand by her brothers. She tries to hide her hands behind her back, knowing they’re shaking like crazy. She positions herself between Dick and Jason, instantly able to relax as the feeling of safety washes over her. The class is completely silent, and Marinette isn’t sure if they don’t understand or if they’re in shock. She’s not sure which would be better.

“What?” Alya asks, barely audible.

“Marinette is my daughter, I am her biological father. She’s a Wayne. And you all have been provided with an NDA about her identity, so that she can remain safe and anonymous to the rest of Paris. Your parents have already agreed and signed both their forms and forms giving you all permission to sign a form. They all understand the importance of this secret, and I urge every single one of you to take this seriously.” Her dad says, giving the class another wide (fake) smile. She lays her head on Dick’s arm, relieved that her class instantly starts signing the forms. No outbursts right now, no possible akumas forming. Nothing. It was a relief, it was freeing. She was certain that it was going to come back and bite her- sooner rather than later if the look on Lila’s face was anything to go by- but for right now, everything was calm. And her family was supposed to stay in Paris for another day, so she’d finally be able to let three of her parents meet in person. It was nice. It was safe.

Master List

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

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bigballofstress · 4 years ago

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Pickpocket Part 3(Avengers x Child!Reader)

Description: You have been allowed to stay in the Avengers Tower, but your trials aren’t quite over yet. You still have one major hurdle you’re going to have to get over if you want to make this thing permanent.

To @sweetpeaflower01 and to anyone else who wanted to be tagged in this, I’m sorry I don’t have your usernames! It’s been a while since I’ve been on here!

A few weeks later, I woke up to the sun shining on my face through a nearby window.

“Good morning to you, too, kid.” I turned to see Tony, still lying in the bed beside me with his hand placed gently over mine. He had spent every night since I’d arrived in there with me except for one, which had immediately resulted in a nightmare, with my screams waking up the entire tower. “You think you’re ok to get up? We’ve got someone who wants to meet you.”

Immediately, my entire body tensed, and I could feel myself pale. My vision went blurry, my heart hammering frantically in my chest. “Hey, hey, it’s ok, kid, I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I promise,” Tony spoke gently, his tone even as though he was attempting to sooth a wild animal. I nodded slowly, doing my best to calm my heart. He had promised me. He promised they wouldn’t send me back. I’m not sure why, but I trusted Tony.

Tony helped me to my feet, but my knees were shaking too much. Slowly, he scooped me up into his arms, careful not to move to quickly and frighten me, and wrapped his arms around my back. His arms were still so warm.

“Ah, miss (Y/N), I presume.” I lifted my head from Tony’s shoulder to see the rest of the Avengers surrounding a large African American man in a black trench coat with a patch over his eye that was grinning back at me. My heart almost stopped as I stared back at him, fear clawing mercilessly at my chest. He reminded me of Nat in how he regarded me with nothing more than cold, merciless calculations; except, unlike Nat, he didn’t have that small spark of empathy. Instead, there was excitement -- greed almost. I made my decision then and there. I didn’t like this man.

“I’ve got a question for you, kid. How exactly did someone like you manage to steal from four of Earth’s mightiest heroes?” he asked, glancing me up and down.

I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t want anything to do with this man.

“It’s ok, just answer the question,” Tony nodded reassuringly. I could feel his worried eyes on me, trying to grab my attention, but I refused to take my eyes off of the newcomer for a single second. Still, I didn’t want to go against Tony.

“I have small hands,” I said slowly. “And I know how to read people.”

“What do you mean read people?” Steve asked. “What does any of that have to do with stealing a wallet?”

“It has everything to do with stealing a wallet,” I responded monotonously, still stubbornly refusing to drop my gaze from the man. “Reading people helps you pick a mark -- someone with their guard down who isn’t expecting to actually be targeted. More than that, though, reading people is what actually lets me get away. With Steve, I was sweet and innocent, but with Tony, I was sarcastic but pitiable. If I had been the opposite, Steve would have been more annoyed and therefore more aware of what I was doing, and Tony would have been less distracted.”

“You figured all of that out by talking to them for a few seconds?” Nat asked, taking a small step forward as she surveyed my curiously. I nodded silently.

“Show me,” the man said. Finally, I tore my eyes away from him to glance at Tony for confirmation. He nodded back, gently setting me down. I grabbed his hand instead.

“Who do you want me to mark?” I asked softly.

“Try Natasha,” he smirked, crossing his arms. I glanced over at the redheaded woman and frowned. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“I would never mark her,” I responded, glaring up in annoyance at the confidence in his tone. “She is guarded and always in a stance to protect her vital points. Someone like that is too aware of their surroundings not to notice a pickpocket.”

“Do your best anyways,” he smirked.

I grit my teeth in frustration and turned to Nat. As I looked over at her, an idea slowly began to form. I smirked inwardly. It was perfect for dealing with this man. Sunglasses, a phone, a watch, a ring, a swiss army knife, and a custom pen. If I did everything perfectly, not to mention getting a bit lucky, I might be able to grab everything.

I squeezed Tony’s hand to draw his attention to it as I pressed my body into his slightly so that I could grab his sunglasses, which were hooked onto his pocket. “Fine,” I growled. “But don’t blame me when it doesn’t work. Now move out of the way.” I grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him backwards, using that split second to simultaneously put Tony’s glasses on my head and slip my hand into the man’s opposite pocket and pull out his phone, flicking it upwards into the overly-large sleeve. I took a deep breath and approached Nat, tucking my hands, and the phone with them, into my pockets. I flicked my eyes carefully over her, looking for any loose item that I could grab. Finally, I noticed that I could just barely see the edge of a few dollar bills in her back pocket. It wouldn’t be easy, and I would have to stay in front of her the entire time to avoid her suspicion, but it wasn’t impossible.

“Excuse me, miss?” I asked softly, glancing up at her with wide eyes.

“Yeah?” She responded, lifting a brow.

“I-I was wondering if you had any food,” I croaked, allowing my body to shrink in on itself so it would look even smaller.

“Sorry, kid, I don’t have any on me,” she shook her head slightly, furrowing her brows.

“Ok, I understand, thank you,” I muttered softly. “I’m sorry to bother you. My mommy says bothering grown-ups is bad. I-I don’t have the belt with me. But I’m sure I can find a stick,” I offered quickly, as if to try and placate her. I stumbled to the side a bit, pretending to look for a stick. I forced my toes to catch on my other shoe, falling right in front of Steve’s feet. “I-I’m so sorry, sir,” I winced, making sure not to meet his eyes. I took his outstretched hand and pulled myself up, wrapping one hand around his wrist, where I slipped off his watch. “T-thank you so m-much,” I gushed, my voice shaking ever so slightly as I brushed the nonexistent dirt from his shirt. Quickly, I put his watch onto my own wrist while his attention was focused on his shirt.

Nat frowned slightly at this. “Your mommy, did she hurt you?” she brought my attention back to her, studying my face carefully.

I glanced back at her, before quickly looking back down to avoid eye contact. I knew what I had to do -- that I had to tell the truth if I had any hope of doing this. So, I forced myself to remember the face of my old caretaker. “O-only if I’ve been really bad,” I shook my head slightly. “A-and only if she’s at home.” My voice had gone hoarse, tears building up in the backs of my eyes. It was easy to cry when I thought about that terrible woman.

“How often is she not at home?” Nat asked.

“N-not that o-often,” I shook my head again. “I-I think she just f-forgets sometimes. She’ll come home soon, though. She’s almost never gone for more than two weeks,” I smiled up at her softly, wrapping my arms around my torso to accentuate how small my waist was as well as provide a sense of insecurity and fear.

Nat frowned slightly, falling silent for a moment. Finally, she looked up at the man and said, “Alright, I believe her. I’d probably go take her to get some food then call the cops. I’d imagine you’d be long gone before they arrive?” She added with a slight chuckle.

“Really?” I asked, my face lighting up in a wide smile. “Thank you!” I gasped, wrapping my arms around her torso. She immediately tensed, and I took the opportunity to grab the few bills, tucking them into my opposite sleeve. “U-um, sorry,” I stuttered and quickly released her, my face growing red. I stumbled backwards and straight into the arms of Thor. I grabbed his hand in my own as though in an effort to keep my balance as he righted me gently. I thanked him softly and slipped my hand out of his grip, taking the beautiful golden ring from his finger in the process.

“How would you escape, though?” Nat asked. “I wouldn’t think you’d want to go to the police.”

“O-oh, well, it’s not too hard,” I smiled slightly. “I just need to lose you in the crowd. I would probably do something like this.” I walked forward, and slipped between Clint and Bruce, using both hands to grab the swiss army knife from Clint’s pocket and a gorgeous custom pen that was clipped to Bruce’s. “Then, once I’m out of your sight, I’d start running-”

“It was a good scam, kid,” the man cut in. “But I thought I asked you to pickpocket her.”

I whipped back around to face him, suddenly feeling vulnerable again with all of the adults surrounding me. “You’re right, I’m sorry; you asked me to pickpocket only her,” I hissed, my teeth grinding together. “But I thought you wanted me to show you what I could do.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” he frowned, narrowing his eyes.

“As long as I’m not seen as a threat, I can steal from anyone,” I said, walking up to Tony and handing back his sunglasses. “And I would do anything to keep myself from being seen as a threat.” I took the watch off my wrist and handed it back to Steve. “Everyone has something that brings their guard down.” I pulled the ring from my finger and handed it back to Thor. “And whether they acknowledge it or not, they all want to see the good in people,” I pulled the swiss army knife and custom pen from my pockets, handing them back to Clint and Bruce. “They all want to see me as some innocent little kid,” I returned Nat’s money to her. “Even you,” I held out the man’s phone, staring up at him in defiance.

Every one of them stared at me in pure, unadulterated shock. All of them, that is, except for Tony, who grinned and welcomed me back into his side, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders. Finally, the man chuckled a bit and snatched his phone back from me. “Not bad, miss (Y/N), not bad at all. Natasha, from now on, you’re training her to be a new agent.”

My eyes widened, and I frowned, subconsciously shrinking further into Tony’s side. He squeezed my shoulder gently.

“Hey, Thor, why don’t you take (Y/N) for some poptarts. She hasn’t had breakfast yet,” Tony said with a small smile.

“I’m not hungry,” I frowned.

“Just go with him for now, ok, kid? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.” I blinked up at Tony and frowned before nodding slowly, allowing the large blonde god to take my hand and lead me out of the room, away from the rest of the adults.

As soon as the door closed, I turned to the god with wide, pleading eyes. “Mr. Thor, could you pretty please toast the poptarts for me?” I asked sweetly, gazing up at him.

“Of course, young lady (Y/N),” Thor grinned and ruffled my hair, moving towards the cabinets. As soon as his back was turned, I pressed my ear to the door, concentrating on trying to hear what was going on in there.

“Did you really think I’d let you make her an agent?” I heard Tony snap.

“I didn’t think you had a choice,” the man from earlier responded casually. “The girl’s got a gift, Stark. She could help us.”

“She’s just a kid! I brought you here to give you a heads up that she’d be staying with us, not to give you a potential recruit.”

“Look, it’s very simple, Stark. Either you allow her to start training, or I deem her a threat to the team. I will inform the police of the location of a criminal and unsupervised child.”

“So what?! I’ll just adopt her!”

“Adoption takes a long time, Tony, especially for someone with a criminal record and a history of alcohol abuse. Do you really want to send her back to an orphanage while you go through all of that, if you’re even granted custody at all?”

Oh, god. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t be going back. He promised me I wouldn’t go back! I stumbled backwards, barely making it a few steps before my knees gave out and I was sent crashing to the ground.

“Lady (Y/N)!” Thor shouted, rushing over, but I could barely hear him over the deafening sound of my heartbeat and the blood rushing through my ears. I could feel the tears streaming down my face and the burning in my chest from my hyperventilating breaths. I curled up tightly, my muscles shaking from how tense they were. I couldn’t go back there -- I wouldn’t! Tony promised me I would never go back again!

“(Y/N)?” The familiar voice cut through the haze. Immediately, I reached out and clawed at the air, trying to find him, but with blur of tears in my eyes, I couldn’t see him anywhere. Suddenly, my head was resting against a chest, a pair of arms holding me tight and close. “It’s ok, just breath with me. Focus on me, ok? In and out.” I forced myself to breath in with him, struggling to slow it down like he said. Slowly but surely, my breathing evened out, until finally, it had returned to normal.

As the panic slowly faded away, I could feel the energy drain from my body, and I nestled further into Tony’s embrace. He stroked my back gently, murmuring comforting words into my ear.

“Tony?” I didn’t even open my eyes as I whispered softly, my voice still thick and shaking. My hands gripped his shirt tightly, afraid that if I let go for more than a second, he would disappear. “Do I have to go back?”

“Never,” Tony answered immediately, his voice firm. “I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“Ok,” I whispered back, relaxing slightly. Tony pulled me even closer, and I let out a soft sigh, my muscles slowly relaxing. My hands released the shirt’s material, falling numbly into my lap.

Just before my exhausted body quickly slipped back into unconsciousness, I was barely able to make out a few words from Tony. “Fine. You win.”

“She’ll start training tomorrow.”

- - -

That was about four years ago. Since that day, Natasha had been training me constantly in different fighting techniques, target practice, the works. Of course, the lying and deception I’d already had down pat. Originally the plan was for me to be homeschooled, but Tony had thrown an absolute fit when he’d heard that, and considering I wasn’t exactly lacking in the mental department, we settled on just a bit of extra tutoring from Bruce every day after school.

Fury’s interest in me never went away. Because I had been so malnourished as a kid, I ended up being way too small for my age. To Fury’s absolute delight, this meant that I was more than capable of squeezing through the smallest of spaces. In other words, thanks to my size, training, and natural intelligence I was absolutely perfect for covert missions focusing on gathering information.

Tony had been absolutely furious when I’d been called on for my first mission. He’d screamed at Fury nonstop for three days until, finally, he was assured both that Nat would be with me the entire time and that he would be allowed to have a direct connection to my earpiece. He couldn’t decide whether he was thankful or disappointed that my first mission went perfectly. Of course he was happy I came back completely unharmed, but his fear that I would be forced into more and more missions due to my overwhelming success was only proven right at every turn. Still, he was always in my ear, talking me through the every single mission I ever went on.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I wasn’t exactly a normal teenager. Still, that being said, I don’t think I would want it any other way.

Except maybe for the Fury part. Nothing would make me happier than seeing that man get what’s coming to him. But I could worry about that later. For now, I’d just spend my time grateful that I was blessed with the best dad in the world.

#avengers #avengers imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x child!reader #child!reader

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imagine4000 · 3 years ago

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Dinner Glitch Finale

[NOTE: Hello again, everyone! I’ll cut to the chase, so here’s the final part to Dinner Glitch. Hope you enjoy! Stay safe, healthy, and in holiday spirits!]

“Impressive,” Artio smirks, “that just makes you more valuable to the H.A. boss.”

“You’re lucky I brought this.”

Dahlia tosses a backup tech-bo Donnie lent her.

“Ha-ha~! Double D’ Duo is back in action, baby!”

“We’ll hold them off!”

Bruce, Callan, and Cayden take the first strike.

“Any ideas, Don?”

“How about we—‘jam’—up the works and pack this meal to-go?”

“Why Donnie-boy, are you being funny?”

“Hello~ I am the funny turtle. And if it means winning that comedic showdown and having a month without Leo’s lame wisecracks, then I’ll swallow my pride just this once.”

BAM/URGH!

The enemies make a breakthrough, startling them.

“Then you better quit ‘overacting’ and show some ‘positive energy’.”

“Aha~ science quips. Well played, ‘Lia.”

“Get. Them!”

ROAR~!!

“Aw, come on, stick around!”

Donatello grabs two bottles of cider with his battle-shell and shakes them.

“It’ll be...’soda-licious’!”

POP!

🍾FSSSHHH!

GURGLES!

“Gah/Argh~!”

They rub their sore eyes of the sparkling liquid.

“Ugh~ it hurts just thinking up that line,” Donnie groans.

“Meh, could’ve done better,” Dahlia criticizes.

FWIP!

“Woah!”

“Hiya!”

CLANG/SLASH/CLASH/CLANK!

Dahlia steps back and swings the blade against Artio’s infernal antlers shooting out like fists in a boxing match.

“You really think this new trinket of yours will defeat us, little pipsqueak!?”

“Hey, bucko!”

CLANG!

Out of nowhere, Donnie blocks Atrio and leaps with Dahlia onto a table.

“Don’t you dare in-‘salt’ this ‘sweet-tea’!”

🔥FLARE—FLARE!🔥

“Enough!”

Artio’s and his henchmen’s’ flames enlarge by their impatience.

“Shall we put the finishing touches, milady?”

“You lead.”

WHIRR—BOOM!

Donnie and Dahlia ride on his rocket-booster, charging towards the brothers.

“Eat science, overgrown vertebrates!”

KA-BLAM!

The tech-bo changes into its original form after impact. Donatello then links his arm with Dahlia’s.

SHWING~

Like her powers, the sword extends and turns into a giant tenderizer.

“Make sure you have—”

“A heaping help of—”

TWIRL!

“(Unison)Pound cake!”

💥CRUMBLE!

Spinning halfway, the mallet smashes Artio to the ground before they land safely. With all three hunters’ unconscious, Bruce and his men use mystic cuffs that diminish their powers. Callan and Cayden quickly escort them out of the restaurant’s portal.

“Bun-voyage!”

“Pasta la vista, baby!”

“We’ll tira-miss-u!”

“Not really, though!”

Feeling triumphant, the teens high-five.

“Woo~ nailed it!”

“Yes! I can already hear the sweet silence of victory next week! Thanks, Dahlia, you’ve been ‘shrimp-ly’ the best.”

“Dang, Donnie, you’re ‘krill-ing’ it today.”

“Ooh, right back at ya.”

Just then, Bruce comes forward.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Oh, right...”

SHAA~

The sword turns back to normal and Bruce places it on his belt.

“You did good tonight, you two. Even with those hard-to-swallow jokes thrown out faster than the garbage.”

SHWING!

Callan and Cayden come back inside.

“That was quick.”

“We jussst dropped them through the gateway in the far endsss of the Hidden City.”

“They won’t be a problem for sssome time.”

“A bit straightforward, but hey, your call.”

CLATTER!

Hearing something crash, they slowly turn around and gawk at the chaotic mess.

“I am so fired.”

“Relax, kiddo, we’ll take it from here.”

“Thanks, uncle...for everything.”

Dahlia doesn’t hesitate to hug him, nor doesn’t he return it with content. She then joins Donatello as they start walking.

“So, uh...Donnie...”

“Yeah?”

“Now that we both know the truth...will this...change anything between us?”

Donnie watches her look down at herself, feeling anxious and gripping her forearm. He says nothing and halts, getting her attention.

“You know...when I came here, it was the first time seeing you wear that.”

“Wear what?”

He points to the dark-pink bandana.

“Wait...this was the reason you were acting so weird earlier?”

“Yes, as shocking as it might seem...I just never...w-what I mean is, it compliments your natural traits. And you know me, I can’t help but state out the obvious facts, is all, so...you should...wear it more often.”

Dahlia’s tugs on the ends of her bandana, smiling.

“Well...why waste a wonderful gift, right? Makes logical sense, in my opinion.”

“...Yeah...y-yeah, good point.”

Donnie equally shares his side of embarrassment before Dahlia turns back around, giggling to herself.

“But, uh...you really thought I was...pfft...a ‘sweet-tea’, was it? Clever analogy, btw...”

“I-I uh,” Donnie sputters, “w-well, what’d you expect from a man of science to come up with nutritional witticisms on such short notice?”

“Are you trying to blame me?”

“I am most certainly 100% not.”

“Really? Cause it sounds like you are.”

“O-kay~ let’s just get you home so I can sanitize my tongue from all these corny gibes.”

“Now you’re just avoiding the conversation entirely.”

“Move it/Hehehe...”

Donnie pushes Dahlia through the exit, not seeing Bruce smiling while shaking his head with nostalgia.

“Now, where have I seen that before...”

Rustle

His only good eye peers down to see a paper under his foot. Picking it up, he blinks in surprise by the content.

“...Hmm...”

>>>>>>>ONE WEEK LATER>>>>>>>

“Check it out.”

“Wow/Nice.”

“Looks great.”

Dahlia watches as her classmates converse with their families while looking at their work in the school’s art gallery.

“Thank you for helping me, Dahlia. This Back-to-School-Night is really busy.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

“But what about your family, Dahlia? Aren’t they coming?”

“Oh, uh...actually, my uncle had a...last-minute meeting, so he can’t make it.”

“That’s too bad. Your piece is the main attraction tonight. He would’ve loved to have seen it.”

“Hah...(whispers)maybe...”

“Oh, hello, sir. Welcome to Back-to-School-Night.”

“Am I on time?”

Dahlia’s eyes widen at the familiar voice and turns around to see the white-haired/eye-patched man dressed in a maroon suit. What catches her attention is the dragon brooch clipped to the left of his coat.

“Yes, sir. Nice to meet you Mr...?”

“Bruce Shinzo. I’m—”

“Uncle Bruce!”

The teen tackles him and he lets out a hearty laugh.

“Easy, kiddo,” he whispers, “I’m still recovering from those blows.”

“Ah~ so you’re Dahlia’s uncle. Sorry, I’m the substitute teacher, so I don’t know all the students’ families. Dahlia said you had some urgent business, did you not?”

“I did, but I managed to escape early. Didn’t need much of my help, so going in there was a waste of time.”

“Well, we’re glad you came. Your niece is a talented artist, sir, and not just visual arts. She even helps decorate and entertain the school during big events.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Please, feel free to look around and enjoy yourselves. Oh, and Dahlia?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Congratulations on your win.”

“Thanks, teach’.”

Once the woman leaves, Bruce looks to his niece.

“I saw the flyer. Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Sorry. I didn’t think you’d—”

“Have time to see how amazing my niece is doing at school?”

“That’s the general idea...”

“Well, you better get used to it, cause I’ll be coming every school-night, parent-teacher meetings, school festivals, and any other place I can spoil or embarrass you on family outings.”

“Y’know...I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“So, what’d she mean by ‘win’?”

“I got first place in a competition to display my artwork in the main hall.”

“Good on ya, Dahlia! Where is this prized painting?”

“Over here.”

They walk further down until they reach an open area for the bigger artworks to hang.

“What do you think?”

Bruce gasps in awe at the colorful piece. Not just because of its intricate design, but because it represents their family.

“It may be a fairytale to some...but to us...it’s the family portrait I’ve been dreaming of.”

The yokai incognito is at a loss for words. Though drawn as a traditional design of two dragons, the embodiment is still his and his brothers’ up there. Bruce abruptly puts two fingers on the bridge of his nose, losing the will to hold the emotion building up inside.

“You really are something special.”

He leans down and embraces her with a smile.

“Thank you, Dahlia. Your mother and father would be proud as I am. And like I promised, I’ll keep watching over you.”

“Even if you’re the Masters of Barbarianism boss?”

“(Chuckles)Not even my reputation will get the better of me over you.”

They walk together, out onto the courtyard to look around.

“Does that mean we can still go to the art festival next year? They’ve got a color powder party happening in Town Square~.”

“Sounds like a plan. But, uh, tell me...”

“Yeah?”

“What’s the deal with you and purple?”

“Hah~ here we go.”

“I’m just asking.”

“That’s not asking, that’s interrogating. You’re gonna interrogate your own niece?”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“Geez, if only dad could see you now.”

Though throwing sarcastic remarks, it’s all in fun as they laugh while exploring the campus grounds together.

SLAM!

But to the fallen, no laughter or happiness is found where they are. Someplace deeper than the two cities themselves. Much secluded, much colder, and even darker by its environment and the atmosphere it consumes.

FSSHH~

“... ...”

Clink

“......So....”

Artio carefully looks up, with both his men nearby as they face their employer.

FLAP-FLAP!

FWOOM!

Just by fluttering those black wings, he creates a whirlwind strong enough to push them back a few feet.

“You failed...again.”

“I have no excuses, sir. My men had nothing to—”

“Your men followed orders. Your orders. Which means you all share your failure.”

“I...I understand.”

“Do you, Artio?”

The figure comes off his throne. A yokai resembling that of a magpie. Standing on two legs, feathers dark as the deep-blue seas, four wings that expand three times himself, and piercing purple eyes as sharp as his claws and talons.

💨WHIRL/NGH!

💥BLAM!

One flick of a wing, Artio hits the wall, nearly embedding a crater in. Hydor and Choiros try to run over, but their boss blocks their path. The feathered yokai grabs Artio by his collar and lifts him off his feet.

“I was this close. This close to having the rarest species known to man or yokai...and what do you do?”

Artio struggles to hold his composure as he feels the grip become stronger.

“Two years ago, you failed because of your sympathy towards that man. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re holding back. That you let her go on purpose.”

SHAA/URGH!

Feathers fly out and wrap around Choiros and Hydor, squeezing them tight enough to turn them blue.

“You know what happened the last time you defied me.”

“N-No, sir...ngh...I’ll make sure to get her next time.”

“...”

“I swear it.”

“You swear to...who...”

“...I promise...Mr. Corvidian.”

THUNK!

Artio rubs his neck as Corvidian retreats into a tunnel, dragging his men behind.

“For their sake, you better.”

VRR~ CLANG!

Once the revolving doors close, Artio glares to the floor before storming into another tunnel.

Clank-Clank-Clank-Clank-Clank!

His feet stomp the metal-floor rapidly as he tries to burn off the rage within him.

T-Tap

His ear flickers to the right and peers down the other end of a hallway.

🔥FLARE~

Just as his antlers burn for the strike, a yokai chickling comes out of hiding.

“Hah...hey kid.”

Artio goes over to the magpie, standing no taller than his waistline.

“What are you doing wandering around by yourself?”

C-Clunk

The deer smiles when he shows him a wooden carving.

“Say, that’s a good-looking mushroom.”

The little yokai pushes the ornament towards Artio.

“For me?”

The magpie nods his head, enthusiastically.

“You don’t want to give this to your father?”

Mentioning it makes the chick’s smile fade as he looks down. Artio frowns and pats his head, knowing exactly how he felt.

“Don’t worry, kid. But you know...”

His head perks up, seeing Artio smile.

“We’ll be having a...another guest. I think you’ll like her. I know she’ll like your carvings. Trust me, kid, you fellow artists will get along just fine.”

Artio pokes the magpie’s beak, making him giggle.

“C’mon, it’s late. Time for bed.”

Hand-in-hand, they walk together. However, Artio can barely think straight. He was tired. Tired of putting up the act. Tired of everything he’s done and still has to do. For years, he’s wondered...when. When will it all end? Will it ever end?

‘No. It has to.’

Despite the turmoil he faces and brings to others, he will continue to play along. For him, it’s the only way.

‘Forgive me, Dahlia.’

Even so, if that girl is as great of a person as they say she is, Artio can only hope she’ll find out the truth, soon enough, and finally put an end to the madness that lies ahead.

THE END...?

#rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt oc character #tmnt Donnie #Donnie x OC character #rottmnt boss bruce

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equalseleventhirds · 4 years ago

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fdsjflsk hello i have had the magnus archives and the web specifically on my mind AGAIN and this is only tangentially related to the convo last night BUT

a lot of ppl have shown up on my & other ppl's posts abt 'wow manipulation and spiders? why??' going 'well but there are spider tricksters in mythology'

and like... yeah, ok, there are. but are there that many, compared to other animal tricksters, and spider not-tricksters? enough to justify the exclusivity of spiders to the one entity??

so i. made a list, as i do. (you can't judge me for this you should know by now i make lists at the SLIGHTEST provocation) actually i made TWO lists, one of spiders in mythology & how they line up with tma's entities, and one of tricksters in mythology. (i knew some of these already but i also got a lot of them off of wikipedia. also tried to avoid detailing the uh. worse aspects of mythologies. we all know abt it but that isn't the point here.)

(we are ignoring for now my theory that the web's actually shit at manipulation and mostly just does control, and considering any spider that does manipulation OR control to be web-aligned)

spiders in mythology (and how they align w/ tma's various entities, if they even do):

anansi: okay i'll give you this one! yeah he is the trickster spider! yeah he lies & manipulates! he's not really uhhhh evil in any way or would inspire ppl to generate fear for the entities to shape themselves to, but ok yeah i'll give you that one as web!

arachne: she literally just wove tapestries? got into a competition with athena and wove a tapestry detailing the infidelities of the gods. like, if anything she is eye, going around revealing truths and stuff.

uttu: mostly seems to be about creation? weaving & plants. hid herself in her web, which isn't manipulation at all, it's just hiding. not rly entity aligned at all, at worst she's probably a victim of like, the hunt? maybe?

iktomi: another trickster! p much the same boat as anansi, where he's not particularly evil, but we'll let him be web.

spider grandmother: she just is helpful!! she creates & guides & protects! no entities.

ai apaec: creator & leader god again. only sometimes a spider.

djieien: just a very strong spider who hid its heart so it couldn't be killed? like, if anything, end.

great goddess of teotihuacan: associated with spiders, maybe not a spider herself? doesn't seem to be much known abt her, but potentially underworld, darkness, earth, creation, lots of things. no mention of manipulation or control.

nareau: another creation god. i guess he does do some arguably flesh-aligned stuff in that creation, but like, so do a lot of other creation myths.

areop-enap: again creation! hmm what a pattern emerges. doesn't seem particularly aligned with any entities.

tsuchigumo: ok i can give you web here i guess? bcos it does trick ppl, even if that tricking also kind of slides into spiral/stranger territory. and hunt territory obvs it literally is there to consume prey. also can give you evil here.

jorogumo: can also be web! there is lying & shapeshifting here, like the tsuchigumo, but slightly less pure evil? there's like, a couple of neutral depictions, but also evil ones. anyway. web.

gamba: not on wikipedia but wikipedia only talks abt the filipino story of the spider who wanted to marry the fly, NOT gamba, and i LOVE gamba. anyway she just created things. got too into her work and turned into a spider. idk what entity is 'fear of being a workaholic' but it's not the web. maybe lonely, since she neglected her family relationships abt it?

conrad of constance: not a spider himself, but drank out of a cup with a spider in it, showing that the cup was not poisoned even tho ppl thought spiders were poisonous. i don't... i don't think this is an entity. hey jonny maybe take some hints here, spiders are not that bad--

robert of bruce: my dude saw a v persistent spider and was inspired! it's chill it's cool! spiders helped scotland gain independence one time! wow no wonder fucking smirke hated them--

pan twardowski: again not a spider himself, but he lives on the moon and a spider hangs out with him and brings him news. a friendly spider! pan twardowski himself can be lonely ig, maybe the spider is eye, but like, a friendly eye.

vedic philosophy: now this is not technically mythology but i thought it was interesting, in this one a spider's web hides the true reality from ppl. could be argued as web but seems pretty much spiral to me? but like, a not v evil spiral, just like. neutral? it's fine.

overall... majority creation gods, actually. very few even evil depictions? wow jonny, rude.

anyway, list of animals (besides spiders) shown as tricksters in mythology:

humans! majority humans!! also like. specifically clowns several times? like, specifically clowns.

just kinda non-animal spirits/beings/whatever? sometimes vaguely humanoid.

rabbits & hares

foxes

coyotes

wolves

g...goats? sort of?? half a goat, anyway, thank you pan.

cats

ravens

mouse-deer! look up mouse-deer you will LOVE them.

monkeys

raccoons

also raccoon dogs

snakes

horses

praying mantises

tortoises

lizards

also a bunch of tricksters who shapeshift into like, a multitude of animals, but given that those are not their primary or even main secondary forms i guess we will not go into those (mostly that would just. take so much time omg.)

i didn't do a full tally, but foxes especially show up a TON, and rabbits or hares quite a bit, so either of those could've been the fear-god of manipulation. if like, we're relying on the 'there are stories about spider tricksters' thing (which we are not, in fact, i think jonny just picked a Cool Literary Symbol and did not think abt the worldbuilding implications so much)

EDIT bcos ppl keep misunderstanding: i don't think tricksters are the main source of the fear of manipulation. i don't even think tricksters should be considered a reasonable source for the web's manifestations. BUT people kept bringing them up when i had issues with the web's spider exclusivity (when both spiders and manipulation SHOULD have multiple metaphors and not be exclusive to each other) and that is why i made this list, thank you.

(also i'm aware there are ways to justify spiders meaning control sometimes. given the worldbuilding of tma, i don't think there's a way to justify them meaning control always. but that's a different post.)

#fdskjlfs hello good morning i'm making lists again #but ppl bring this up SO MUCH and like... it's not as relevant as they seem to think?#like STATISTICALLY spiders should not have wound up where they are in the tma fear pantheon #but oh well

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behindheremeraldeyes · 4 years ago

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damirae week 2021

sunday, may 9th - soulmates & wedding/ honeymoon

title: you are my secret

summary: the universe wanted her to know his deepest secret, and even if it made things easier for her to find her soulmate, his secret came with heavier responsibilities than she could’ve expected. — Soulmates AU where they know each other’s secret. Ao3

There are some secrets that do not permit themselves to be told.

— Edgar Allan Poe

His secret revealed itself to her like a wave that crashes against the shore— all at once, all too much.

It came in a dark nightmare, chasing her like a horrific, shadowy figure. She had tried to run, scream for help, even, but no sound came from her sore throat. There was no place where she could hide, no one who could save her, and eventually, she was captured in that thing’s tight grasp. Though she didn’t know what was happening, fighting it proved itself worthless, as her small body refused to move a muscle. An ominous force enveloped her surroundings, and she could no longer see or hear anything.

Something lurked in those shadows— something bizarre and surreal— and chills ran down her body as her small world suddenly grew silent. Might have been seconds or days, she didn’t know, but eventually, screams erupted in her ears. Her eyes widened, then, tears running down her face as a wave of emotions swept her off her feet. Raven was having an epiphany. An unannounced realization of the truth in its rawest form, and instantly, the world was not the same.

And it would never be again, no. Not anymore.

She woke up with her lungs begging the world for air, sweat soaking the covers and a heart ready to burst out of her chest. Her eyes were frantically scanning the room, her pupils still fighting to adjust to the dim light that came with the first rays of sun. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, and before she knew it, her eyes were brimming with burning tears that ran down her cold cheeks. It was the most tragic, yet bewildering moment of her young life, and though she could not deny the fear taking over her senses, her mind had never been that clear before. She had never been more alive.

So this is how it feels, she wondered. Her fingers ran through her messy, dark locks that were falling forward; and it was as if she could feel her brain pulsating under her touch. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and thousands of new thoughts were trying to find a place to settle inside her head.

Raven was confused, yes. Disoriented, even. However, at that moment— at that unique and special moment where a whole new world seemed to reveal itself to her— she was sure of one particular thing that would change everything.

She knew his secret. Finally, the cosmic forces that rule the universe have revealed his best-kept secret to a 16-year-old girl. She knew that Damian Wayne is the man behind the green mask and yellow cape.

He is Robin.

He is her soulmate.

Initially, the idea itself seemed to have been taken from one of her old fantasy books; where the world is dystopian and reality follows no rule whatsoever. She had to be dreaming. Hallucinating, even, but the information was solidified in her core as one of her most visceral memories. No matter how much she has tried to— and she really did try— not even her sharp mind could deny that new discovery. She tried not to freak out, but it was hard not to overthink when her entire lifestyle was about to be jeopardized because of that one secret that was revealed to her.

Raven was but a normal, high-school girl. She had plans to go to college after graduating, and she wished for nothing more than a tranquil life after that. Though she was already familiar with the universe’s rule regarding pairing people who are, supposedly, very compatible, having a soulmate or not has never really entered the equation of her future, especially since she was decided not to let her life be dictated by it. From the very beginning, she refused to believe fate could ever control her with trivial things such as love and understanding, and at some point in her life, the raven-haired girl was ready to do anything to prove her point.

She was ready to defy the forces responsible for selecting two random individuals to be each other’s soulmates.

She was ready to go as far as she had to, but eventually, once her teenage-ish years got behind her, and her insubordination gave place to more reasonable thoughts; Raven decided she could settle for a person who could make her smile every now and then. A person who could share with her a simple life, and eventually, a simple love.

And with or without Robin, Damian Wayne himself could never give her simple.

For as long as she can remember, he has been in the cover of the magazines with his father, Bruce Wayne. He’s the heir of one of the most successful companies in the world and the favorite target of many paparazzi because of his cold and reserved personality. His life has always been exposed to the world— or, apparently, just some of it— and she has always believed them to be complete opposites.

Their worlds were galaxies apart. He didn’t fit any of her expectations, and she was sure she didn’t fit his either. And even if sharing a secret was supposed to bring them closer, his secret identity has only served to distance them even further.

Could two people so different like them ever find common ground? She didn’t know, however; the deed was done. They were walking around, living their own lives while carrying each other’s secrets, and one day— if things worked out as they are supposed to— they were bound to meet and stay together for the rest of their lives.

They didn’t know how, where or when, but it was going to happen. The universe was going to make sure of it. Damian Wayne and Raven were bound to fall in love, just like that. And until their special day could come, she was decided to keep on living her life as she had originally planned to.

Oh, how foolish of her.

The longer it took for their paths to cross, the clearer it became for her that a secret such as Robin’s real identity came with certain responsibilities she had never really prepared for. Just by knowing it, Raven was already included in a very selected and powerful group of people, who had no idea about her mere existence, let alone her true intentions. If anyone did as much as suspect that she knew about his identity, chances were her head would be on the line and Batman would be the first to pay her a visit at night. She could get into trouble—real trouble— and even without wanting to, she would eventually end up dragging her loved ones with her.

Her family and friends didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of her future love life. She didn’t, either, but that was never a matter up for discussion. Raven had to keep them safe at all costs, and that was why, once her high-school days were over, the girl didn’t think twice before leaving it all behind and moving to Gotham city on her own. It was a very hard decision, but it was the right one if she wanted to keep them safe. It had to be. Also, if she were to live in Gotham, she might get a chance to meet him and properly introduce herself as his soulmate.

Like that would be easy…

With her impeccable grades and remarkable school records, it was easy for her to get into Gotham College, where she began her English Major. It wasn’t her dream college— far from it— but it would have to do for the time being. She found herself an apartment, and for it was Gotham city, it was cheap enough for her to afford it on her own. It wasn’t located in a fine neighborhood or anywhere worthy of a Wayne, but according to the owner, no one had died in there, so perhaps, that was a win.

Once settled in, it didn’t take her long to get to know his city. Apart from its terrible fame, Raven eventually found some nice places spread around the city. There were good bakeries, small bookshops, and there was this one park that took her breath away. Whenever she had time, she would go there to think about life or just breathe a little.

Life in Gotham wasn’t as bad as she had originally expected it to be. After almost five years, her ears were almost used to the constant symphony of sirens, and not even the weirdos dressed as clowns robbing the bank at least once a month took her sleep away anymore. Her eyes shone a little brighter whenever she saw the dynamic duo on the cover of the newspapers, and she would be lying if she said that her heart didn’t grow worried whenever she saw a building on fire or something of the kind.

Perhaps that was their connection as soulmates making her think more about Damian. Or, perhaps, that was just a stupid reaction evoked by her own mind growing anxious. She couldn’t quite tell anymore.

After so many years without as much as an interaction, Raven was starting to grow weary. When she first thought about living in Gotham, she believed it would be just a matter of time until their paths crossed and she could tell him they were soulmates. She actually believed that meeting him would be easy, but eventually, the raven-haired girl realized that Damian Wayne was almost as unreachable as his father.

She has never seen him walking on the streets by himself. Whenever he’s out of his mansion, hordes of people surround him and setting an appointment at his father’s company is nearly impossible for a girl like her. According to his secretary, his agenda is already full until May 2034, and even then there will be no guarantee that Mr. Wayne will be able to meet her. He’s a very busy man, for sure.

Still, her name is on the list, just in case.

A defeated sigh escaped her lungs as she was making her way home from work one Friday night. It was winter, and Gotham is a particularly cold city. A black scarf was wrapped around her neck and her arms were hugging her body so she could get a little warmer. It had been one of those days, and she honestly just wanted to get home and drink a warm cup of tea.

Her heeled boots were clicking against the concrete sidewalk as she followed the masses of employees towards the subway station. All of those people, herself included, were on their way home after another long week of work, and as Gotham citizens, none of them wanted to take longer than necessary to reach their destination. Though not decreed by the mayor, the city was under constant curfew due to the elevated crime rates, and those who were smart enough didn’t dare put their luck to test.

The clock was about to strike 9:45pm and she was casually waiting for the train to arrive at the platform. Raven watched as at least 40 people surrounded her, most of them entertained by their cellphones, and she couldn’t help but close her amethyst eyes for a moment so she could take a deep breath. She was tired, cold, and her stomach was begging her to be fed. She really just wanted to get home and get this day over with.

Unfortunately, Two Face’s minions had other plans.

Once the train stopped and its automatic doors opened, at least 20 men, all armed, walked out, pointing their guns at everyone. People were startled, the tension in the atmosphere thick enough to be cut with a knife, and even if there was no hysteric reaction from anyone, it was as if she could hear the strangled screams wanting to call for help.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” One of them started, showing off the gun in his hands. “I know you’re all dying to get home, but you’re not going anywhere until we’re finished with you.”

In all of those years she has been living in Gotham, that was the first time she was this close to real danger. Her eyes widened immediately, her heart skipping a beat as adrenaline started to kick in. There was a man at least 2 meters away from her, and if his finger did as much as slip, her brief life could come to an abrupt end. She was looking around the sea of people, and all Raven could see were hands being lifted in the air, but no one really trying to alert the authorities or call for help.

She swallowed dry, then, her mind focusing on the small girl all alone who was trembling in fear. Someone had to help them. Someone had to call the cops so they could take care of those bandits.

And apparently, that’s someone would be her.

Once she made up her mind, her icy fingers slowly reached for her coat’s right pocket and tried to get her cellphone without being noticed. Her heart was beating faster in fear of being discovered, but she didn’t stop. With her thumb, she pressed the main button, and even without seeing the device, she slid her finger to across the screen, hoping to have gained access so she could make an emergency call. She motioned her fingers to dial 911, and when she thought everything was going according to plan, one of the bandits looked at her, their eyes connecting, and she knew she had been caught.

“What do you have back there, doll?”

A smirk took over his smug face and her blood ran cold at the sight. Her lips trembled when he lifted his gun to point at her, and at that moment, she knew she was going to die. Her life was about to end and all because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Great timing, Raven, she thought. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t really that bad.

When the man was about to pull the trigger, his gun was knocked over his hand by a flying projectile. He winced in pain, catching everyone by surprise, and before anyone could notice, more projectiles came flying towards the other men. Her eyes followed the sound of metal hitting the floor, and her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the batarangs lying motionless on the concrete. They were here, at last. Help had finally arrived.

Before a smoke screen suddenly exploded near them, Raven thought she had seen his pointy ears and dark cloak coming from the celling and punching the one who was probably the leader on the face. At that moment, the sea of people started to dissipate as they all ran for their lives, like a scared herd of buffalos. People bumped on her shoulders as they passed through her, yet, her feet still refused to move from the spot as her eyes captured a glimpse of his yellow cape jumping in front of her.

Damian, she thought, her heart skipping a beat.

Perhaps it was the thrill of finally seeing him so close, but she just couldn’t bring herself to find an escape route. Raven knew she should be running towards a safer place, but something inside her spoke louder than reason itself. She couldn’t convince her feet to move away no matter how much she tried to, and soon, she realized why. Coming from behind the train, a new bandit showed up, pulling a smaller gun from behind his back. He was quick to aim it at the Boy Wonder, but what followed made her feel as if the entire world was suddenly trapped in a slow-motion picture.

Her eyes saw the man aiming that gun towards him while he was still engaged in another fight. An unexplainable fear took over her senses, and before she could even think things through, her body was already moving on its on. The raven-haired girl was running towards his yellow figure as fast as she could, her arms extending as she got closer. A loud shot was heard by the time she shoved him away from the approaching bullet, and as her eyes closed in pure reflex, Raven felt an arm snake around her waist, right before her feet lost contact with the ground.

She was flying. Her eyes remained closed, but during that fraction of a second, she knew she was flying.

Did she take that shot?

Was she dead?

Who was going to feed her cat?

And what about Damian? Was he okay?

Raven didn’t know. Her head was filled with all of those unanswered questions by the time she had landed, but her eyes were still closed in pure fear. Her hands were covering her face, and she could feel tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

If she wasn’t dead yet, she was definitely going to pass out real soon. Her head was spinning, her knees were about to give in and she just couldn’t find anything around her to keep her consciousness from slipping away. She was about to collapse. She was going to—

“Hey, what the hell did you do that for? Are you insane?!”

A harsh voice invaded her ears, and suddenly, she felt two hands on her shoulders. Her eyes shot open in reflex, and much to her surprise, the first thing she saw was that green mask of his. Their faces were standing so close that she could see the expression lines deforming his tanned skin as he was probably glaring at her. A scowl decorated his thin lips, and only then she realized how tall he actually is as his body towered over hers.

It was him. It was Damian, right in front of her. At last, fate had brought them together, and apparently, he was mad at her.

“Why did you push me like that? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” He continued, her lips parting in awe. “Are you even listening to me!?”

“I-I…” She mumbled, her head still mixing all the words. “You were going to get shot. I thought— “

“I saw that guy back there. I was not going to get shot.” He released her shoulders, and she felt sparks running down her skin at the lack of contact. “Seriously, civilians these days. They think they can be heroes.”

“Hey, I was trying to help, okay!?” She answered, growing slightly irritated at his arrogance.

“Help? How? By getting killed? Thanks, I don’t need your help.”

“God, you’re such a jerk! Next time I’ll let you take that stupid shot!”

“I was not going to get shot!” He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “TT, whatever. I need to go back and help Batman. Get out of here and try not to get into any more trouble by saving strangers, okay?”

“I— What—?”

Her lips stumbled upon the words as she watched him turn around so he could return to the battlefield. All the anger that was taking over her disappeared and was replaced by a longing feeling she had never felt before. The cape that adorned his back swung as he walked away, her emotions growing anxious at the scene.

He was leaving. Damian was going back to his impenetrable world, and he didn’t even know her name. After almost 5 years, that was their first interaction, and however troubled it had been, it was still the only thing they had. Raven couldn’t let that chance slip away from her fingers, no. Not after everything she went through to meet him.

She bit her lower lip, then, but eventually, her eyes were filled with a confidence she didn’t know she possessed. She filled her lungs with fresh air and took a step towards him. “Robin, stop! I need to tell you something.”

“Not gonna happen.” He stated, not bothering to turn to face her. “I have a job to do and—”

“Damian, wait!”

His name rolled out of her tongue and she watched as his shoulder tensed. The world around them went mute, her chest tightening in response. His feet came to a stop, and slowly, he turned to face her once more. Raven could feel his eyes glaring at her with enough intensity to tear a hole in her skull, but she was decided not to back off. “What did you just say?”

“I-I… I know who you are.”

“You’re delusional.” He said, trying to deny her words. “You must have mistaken me for—“

“Damian, I know it’s you.” She spoke, confidently. “I know your secret. I’ve known it for almost 5 years now.”

His hands turned into fists, and in a blink of an eye, he walked back towards her. A mix of anger and bewilderment exhaled from him, and she could hear his heavy breaths moving his chest. His hands were once more on her shoulders, his grip tighter than last time in order to prevent her from escaping. “Who are you? Who told you about my identity?”

“You can call me Raven…” She started, her amethyst eyes on him. Though she knew he could end her life if he wanted to, she was not afraid. No of him. “And over five years ago, I’ve received your secret in a dream. I believe you also know a secret of mine.”

His grip on her loosened a bit, as if he was taken aback by her words. If anything, Damian is a very intelligent man, and at that moment, he certainly knew the meaning behind her words. He knew she was his soulmate. However, she didn’t know what he would do about that.

“Shit.” He mumbled, quickly taking his hands off her. She saw his eyes squinting as he observed her, his hands turning back into fists. “This shouldn’t be happening right now.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to follow you here or anything, but—“

“You have to go, Raven.”

“What?”

“Get out of here. Now!” He commanded, his voice not leaving any space for discussion.

“But Damian, I—“

“Don’t call me that!” He scolded her. “Get out of here and go home. I need to get back there and help Batman.”

“And what about us!? I can’t leave and wait for another miracle to bring us together. I know you have things to do, but we need to do something about this! Don’t push me away!”

“I’m not pushing you away, Raven! I—“

“Yes, you are! I’m not going anywhere! Not until—“

“Will you just shut up?!” Suddenly, she felt his hands pulling her closer by her coat, and in a rough move, he sealed her cold lips with his warm ones. Her heart was racing inside her chest, her mind spiraling as she tried to understand what on earth was going on.

Damian was kissing her. That or he just wanted her to stop talking, really. Still, their lips were touching and as something inside her lit up, it was as if all of that anxiety gave in. Her breath was caught up in her throat, and all the words she had planned on using to prove her point were now completely forgotten.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you?!” He pulled away, his hands still clutching her coat. His cheeks were tinged in a light shade of red, as he continued to scold her. She could feel his grip loosening, and slowly, he bit his lower lip. “Just find somewhere safe, Raven… I’ll find you again, I promise.”

His voice came out as a tender whisper, knocking down whatever was left of her previous bravery. Her entire body was growing warmer, now, and even if she had been afraid of letting him go, Raven knew she should follow his words and seek shelter somewhere. He was going to find her once everything was over, he told her, and oddly enough, she knew she could trust him.

A weak nod was all she could give him at that moment, but it proved itself enough for him. He nodded back, and after holding onto her stare for a second longer, Robin turned away and ran back to where the fight was happening. She watched him as he disappeared in the distance, and though she didn’t want to see him go, her warm heart didn’t break.

He was coming back for her; she knew it. He would find her again.

And until then, Raven was going to wait for him.

Once she recovered from all the things that had happened, the raven-haired girl looked away and started to run towards the exit of the subway station. She didn’t look back nor did she doubt his words, instead; she ran away, looking for a place to hide.

———————

Waiting for him, she discovered, was a lot easier now that they had something palpable connecting them. The days went by faster. Soon, winter melted into spring, and for the first time in her life, the flowers seemed more colorful than before. The weather was warm, birds were chirping, and Gotham city seemed to welcome the sun into its dark streets.

Her world had changed after that day. It was only natural, she knew, now that she had finally met the person she was destined to be with for the rest of her life. It was weird and unsettling, at first, but she came to terms with it after she had time to sleep on it and demystify a thing or two about finally meeting her soulmate.

The first and most important thing: she was not in love with him. At least, not yet. Meeting her soulmate for the first time didn’t make her fall in love with him at first sight like some people like to say. It didn’t change her life as much as she had expected it to, and if she were to be honest, Raven was quite happy about it.

She wanted to understand why they were so compatible before giving in to fate. She wanted to understand him without anything clouding her thoughts, and she wanted him to do the same about her.

Above all, Raven wanted them to have a choice. And if they ended up choosing each other, well, then they would think about what that meant later.

For now, as she rested her elbows against the metal rail that offered her a clean view of the lake, she was just focusing on enjoying her Sunday off. There was a book inside her bag, and she was decided to read a couple of chapters before heading home and getting ready for another week of work.

Just another ordinary day, or so she thought, until he arrived.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw as the young man walked towards her, his hands hidden inside the pockets of his hood. His hair was darker than hers, skin tanner and eyes colored in an emerald green. He stood still, some good 11 inches separating them, and though his face was hidden, she knew it was him.

At last, he had found her.

“You know, you’re not the easiest person to track, Roth.” He started, his voice calm as the wind brushed his cheeks. He was looking at the lake in front of them, and unlike last time, he seemed to be at peace. “Certainly took me longer than I expected.”

“Well, I guess that’s a good thing about being a nobody, right? There are a lot of people like me out there.”

“Maybe.” He sighed, his head now turning to face her as she did the same. “Still, I’m a pretty good detective.”

“With a very good self-esteem, too.” She offered him a small smile, to which he simple smirked.

A moment of silence took over them, as both of the young adults allowed that pure moment to sink in. There was no rush or anxiety lacing their feelings at that moment, much to their contentment, for they could absorb every minor detail of what would be the beginning of the rest of their lives.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about my secret identity?” He asked, honestly, and her brows furrowed in awe.

In all of those years that she has held onto his secret, never once has Raven considered the idea of telling anyone about it. It was illogical. Irresponsible, even. Had she spoken to the world about who’s the man behind the green mask, his life would’ve been ruined in levels she could never imagine. It could get him killed. And if anything, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

“It was never mine to tell. I could never reveal your secret, Damian.” She spoke, simply, and a smile threatened to tug at his lips.

“Fair enough.” He nodded, letting out a long sigh. “If it helps, I didn’t tell anyone about your secret, either. Though I doubt anyone would be interested to know there was a girl out there who’s afraid of popping balloons.”

A sincere chuckle escaped the depths of her core, and that alone brought a smile to his face. Of all the secrets she holds, that one childish thing was the one chosen to be revealed to him. The forces of the universe certainly weren’t kind to him, even if that was probably not a common fear out there. Still, there were definitely more people who were afraid of popping balloons than fighting crime as Batman’s iconic sidekick. His secret made him unique.

His secret has brought them together.

“I guess not even your detective skills could help you on that, right?”

“It would’ve taken me a lot of time if I were to use just that information, but I’m sure I would’ve found you.”

“Oh, and how can you be so sure?”

“I just know it. We were bound to meet, anyway, so there’s no point in debating how.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She agreed, not wanting to press on useless matters. They were together now, and that was all she cared about.

“Also, after that day, even in the middle of that crowd, I saw you first. I didn’t really understand why at first, but I guess it has something to do with this thing.”

“Probably. I know little myself, to be honest. Thought that when I found you, things would make a little more sense.”

“And how’s that going so far?”

“Honestly?” She asked, tilting her head to the right, her short hair brushing her cheeks. “I still have no freaking clue of what to do next.”

“That makes two of us, then.” He sighed, leaning forward and resting his arms over the metal rail. His hood was still covering his head, and even if she knew better, Damian looked like a normal guy at that moment. He didn’t look like the son of Bruce Wayne, let alone Batman’s partner.

At that moment, he was just a normal guy talking to a normal girl about normal things. And for a reason she couldn’t quite understand, that brought her peace. Perhaps they weren’t so different, after all.

Perhaps they could even make it work.

A tender smile took over her lips, and slowly, she took a step closer to him. Raven extended her hand towards him, and her eyes watched as he quirked an eyebrow in confusion. “Why don’t we start from the beginning, then? I know you’ve skipped a few steps when you kissed me the other night, but… Whatever. I’m Rachel, but you can call me Raven.”

His eyes watched her for a moment too long, and it was as if she could see the wheels turning inside his head. Eventually, though, a sly smile took over his lips, and he reached out for her hand. His hand was calloused, but his touch was warm; and together, they shook hands. “Damian. Nice to meet you, Raven.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Damian.”

There was really no telling what would happen, or even if anything would happen at all. Still, at that moment, both of them were ready to try it. They already knew each other’s secrets so, perhaps, they could try to learn another thing or two.

fin.

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a/n: I had this idea while browsing Pinterest for some Soulmate AU ideas and I LOVED writing it! Honestly, this is my very first soulmate AU ever and I really enjoyed playing with this weird scenario. It’s by far the one theme I loved the most to write, and I hope you’ve enjoyed it! Please, tell me what you think!

#damirae #damirae fanfiction #damian x raven #damirae week 2021 #demonbirds #mydamiraefics

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