#I like to think that Bruce will sometimes use his wings as a third pair of limbs while crawling around like some malformed wyvern or simila

[puppetmaster13u]

Meat Marionette continues lol

I like to think that the baby robins' chitin and fur mimic exposed musculature, which would help them camouflage with the Hive, but they also have bright wing feathers as a warning. Similarly Bruce has a bright yellow pattern on his wings as a warning of hey, this big predator is venomous so back off.

Bruce's spikes can flatten like quills I think, so he can pick up things and people without worrying about accidentally stabbing whatever is in his hands. He's very careful even if Dick has the habit or leaping into his arms gives him mini heart attacks. Honestly that might be what makes him start carrying him (and the other kids) via his mouth and in the spine cavity.

Eventually Dick will grow and his chitin will darken to his Nightwing colors, but for now he's covered mostly in fine fur and feathers. Though if one looks closely at his wings they'll see there is membrane underneath said feathers. There's also hidden claws between the feathers too similar to Bruce's though less curved. He'll eventually get bigger and evolve more but for now he's a tiny buddy.

Even with Bruce's cavity, they do still have several bags full of supplies and even more hidden batarangs and other items hidden around the city. Mostly in areas one would need to be able to fly or have very long limbs to reach or even both. Bruce also of course deserves his cloak, long enough to shelter all of the kids, his own or otherwise.

Click on photos for a larger pic

pspspspsps @phoenixcatch7 I summon thee dear mutual for opinions <3

[astronomoney]

IDK if you're still taking requests or not, but the latest fix on D. Wayne was 😍🥰. For part 2 can you add the prompts 11 from fluff, 6 from angst and 20 from neutral pretty please?🥺🥺

Pairing: Damian Wayne x fem!reader (age 16ish)

Prompts: Prompt list ☁︎11- “Hey hey hey, it’s ok i’m here. It’s just me ok, you’re safe.” ᜊ6- “I don’t care about you anymore.” “i’m starting to think you never did.” ⚛︎20-“Please be quite, i can’t even hear myself losing my will to live.”

Summary: After the fight you had with Damian things have been tense but sometimes bottling up your emotions only make things worse (i can’t do summary’s to save my life) enemies-to-lovers because i’m a sucker for that shit

Warnings: Blood, swearing, kinda character death i guess, Damian being a dick as always, angsty teens being angsty teens

A/n: this is a part 2 but you can find part 1 here once again this took waaaay to long to write literally i could not figure out what to do but whatever because i did it and i’m proud of myself for it (Masterlist)

Word count: 3k jeez these are getting longer

Tag list: @battlenix @pleasestophoney wow look at that multiple tags

Part 1

Love and War pt2

Spending spring break in Wayne manor had its ups and downs. Ups included a huge library in the south wing, delicious homemade meals every day, and the best water pressure you’d ever experienced. The downs included 8 hours of training daily, getting lost while trying to find a bathroom, and having to spend way too much time with your arch enemy.

Technically he's not your enemy. At least he’s not supposed to be. After the fight you had last week you couldn’t be sure. You’d had fights with Damian before but this felt different. Usually after a fight he'd sulk for a few hours but then it would go back to normal, but this time it didn’t go back to normal. Damian had been avoiding you for almost 8 days.

You knew the fight ended too soon and you both had more to say but if he was going to act like a child and ignore you then you weren't going to stop him. You still had to patrol with him but it was considerably quieter. The manor was big enough for the both of you and after a few days you'd figured out his schedule and how to get around him. Tim let you train with him, so as long as you stayed on your side of the gym and Damian stayed on his you didn't have to interact with him at all.

It wasn't until the 4th day of break that you had to talk to him. Bruce had to go meet with the league for the day so training ended early. You had a couple hours before dinner and decided reading would be the best use of that time. You walked down one of the many hallways lazily dragging your hand along the wall until you reached a door. You couldn't remember exactly where you were but you were about 75% sure there was a couch in this room, so you pushed the door open.

Inside you found tall ceilings paired with dark wallpaper, a tall window with the thin white curtains pushed out of the way, and a couch. Actually it was three couches but after 4 days staying here you'd gotten used to the large number of furniture that was there for no reason.

The couches formed a square with the open side facing the window lined wall. The first two couches were empty but when you stepped farther inside the room you saw someone sitting on the third one. Of course the one room you picked to go into also happened to be the one room Damian was sitting in. He looked up from his sketchbook and immediately frowned.

There were two options in front of you. You could back out of the room and leave him be but then you'd be backing down from something that might not even turn into a fight which made you seem weak so really you were left with only one choice. You straighten your back and closed the door behind you, officially leaving you in a room alone with Damian for the first time since the fight. You walked over to the couch facing the windows head on and sat down on the side farthest from him. He watched you the whole time but you paid him no attention, instead you simply opened your book and began reading.

You felt his eyes leave your form and you let out a quiet breath. You heard a page turn and a  pencil being dragged lightly across paper. It had been over a week but nothing seemed to be getting better between you and him. Patrols were a nightmare beforehand but now that he'd switched from constant criticism to almost no comments you found that you preferred the former.

Damian's pencil against the paper was the only sound in the room and yet the silence seemed so loud. You hated it. You hated having to avoid him all the time. You hated not being able to talk to him anymore. You hated how far away he felt even when he was right next to you. Above all you hated that you didn't hate him as much as you used to.

You never realized how much you talked to him until you didn't. It was a weird feeling to miss someone when you hadn't even known you cared about them. You honestly just wanted to apologize and let things get back to normal but as you sat there staring at your book you couldn't bring yourself to say anything.

After three to many nightmares where Damian got hurt, you finally realized how badly you needed him back. So you took a deep breath, swallowed your pride, opened your mouth, and prayed to god that something would come out.

"Look-"

"Damian-" you both spoke at the same time. "Sorry, you go first." You apologized.

"No you can go first." He replied almost nervously. That couldn't be right, he never got nervous.

"Uh I was just going to say, well i've been thinking lately,"

"You?" He asked sarcastically.

"Oh haha really funny. Will you just listen for a goddamn second." He was not making this easy. "I know we haven't been talking much ever since, well you know and uhh." You couldn't find the right way to word it. You were still too stubborn to outright apologize but you knew he would never say sorry unprompted. "You've just seemed... off, lately and if it has something to do with me-"

"It doesn't." He cut you off. "I'm not 'off' and even if I was you definitely wouldn't be the cause." His expression was blank but calculated.

"Well jeez you don't have to be so rude about it." You sneered back at him. "What were you trying to say anyway." So much for your apology.

"I've convinced father to change our partners." His voice was flat and he seemed bored with the conversation.

"You what?" You stood up. You couldn't believe he actually did that without talking to you first.

He stood up as well and was a few inches higher than you. "We don't work well together, you can't tell me you don't agree."

"I don't! We've been a great team! Remember the Penguin pen raid or Mr Freeze's death ray thingy." you exaggerated your point by waving our hands through the air. "We stopped those. Together. You can't just go around changing things without asking me first!" You were fuming.

"Sure I can! We only stopped those villains because of what I did, you just got in the way." he pointed at you.

Here we go again, the blame game. The endless cycle of 'he did this she did that'. You were so sick of it. "That's bullshit and you know it. I can hold my own on the field just as well as you can. And you know what! I don't even want to be your partner anymore."

"Neither do I! You can go play hero with someone else while I do all the real work. I never wanted you on the team in the first place!" He stared you down and if you weren't so fired up you'd probably be intimidated.

"God you're so annoying!” You threw your hands up in frustration. “You think you're so great and no one can even come close to you but in reality you're exactly like the rest of us!"

What were you doing? This wasn't what you wanted. You wanted to apologize and make things right but now here you were screaming at him again. You almost couldn't help it. Fighting him gave you a sort of rush that you craved. It was like a drug and you were addicted to the pain. You didn't want to fight him but it was the closest thing to a conversation you'd had in over a week and at this point it was enough to satisfy your need.

"I'm going to prove that i'm better than you. I'll do it on my own too!" You told him.

"Go ahead and try! You can do whatever you want because I don't care about you anymore."

You stepped back, stood as tall as you could without going on your tiptoes and took a breath. "I'm starting to think you never did." You said calmly, it seemed to catch him off guard and he didn't retaliate. You grabbed your book and turned towards the door. Dick was standing there, completely still and staring at you and Damian.

"Woah." He said awkwardly. He clearly didn't know how to handle the situation he'd just stumbled on.

You pushed past him and into the hallway. Tears were building up in the corners of your eyes so you had to move fast, the last thing you needed right now was for them to see you cry. 

Damian watched you walk out before turning around and groaning. "I can't believe her," he muttered to himself. "I'm starting to think you never did. That doesn't even make sense."

"Because... you do care about her?" Dick asked. It probably wasn't the best choice of words.

Damian looked back at him with an almost offended expression. "That's ridiculous! I don't care about her, that was basically the whole point of our conversation."

"Was that a conversation? The part of that 'conversation' I saw seemed more like her yelling at you and then you... yelling back." He stated the obvious.

"That was completely her fault," Damian defended. He seemed angry but it wasn't his usual kind. Usually it was directed at someone or something and usually that thing would get acquainted with his katana but this time he was mad at himself and he couldn't understand why. "I don't care about her." He repeated quietly almost trying to remind himself more than anything.

You spent the rest of the day hiding in the guest room. You planned on staying there forever and letting yourself fade out of existence but the universe had other plans. 3 hours, 5 episodes of your favorite show, and a nest made of blankets later you got a call from Tim asking you to come to the cave.

He didn't tell you why he needed you, he just said to meet him in the lower level of the cave so when you got there you were very surprised to find him and Damian standing in the hallway. You groaned internally and considered turning around and just walking away but Tim spotted you before you could. Damian's back was to you so he didn't know who it was until he turned around and you saw his face fall.

'Nice to see you too asshole' You thought to yourself, walking over to stand near him but still keeping your distance. "What did you need?" You asked, wanting to get out of there as soon as humanly possible. You kept your eyes ahead trying not to look at Damian and you had the feeling he was doing the same.

The entire mood of the dimly lit hallway had shifted from the moment you locked eyes with him and the tension was noticeable. Tim looked between the two of you before clearing his throat and bringing the attention back to him. "I actually don't need anything."

"So then why did you call telling me to come down here?" Damian asked, clearly annoyed that Tim was wasting his time.

Tim smirked in response and opened the door before Jason, who was behind you apparently, pushed you both into the room before either of you could react. You landed on top of Damian with a grunt. Once you realized you were on top of him you felt your cheeks turn red and you stood up quickly. You could have sworn you saw the slightest bit of a blush on him but you were too preoccupied with the now locked door to think about too much.

"Ok love birds here's the deal, you're petty hormone fueled fighting is driving us crazy and now we're doing something about it." Jason told you from the other side of the small glass window. "We said you were gonna lock you in a room until you figured out how to get along and now we're following through." he smirked.

"I swear to god if you lock me in this room with him,"  you motioned towards Damian, "I will drop kick you into the sun."

"If you let us out now maybe I won't kill you," Damian threatened alongside you.

"Maybe if you’d learned to talk to each other like normal people you wouldn’t be here in the first place," Tim said. "We'll be back after patrol so you've got about," he looked at his watchless wrist "4ish hours. Have fun." And with that they both walked away.

"DON'T YOU DARE WALK AWA- and they're gone. Dammit." You cursed and hit the steel door which hurt a lot more than you thought it would. "Shit," You shook your hand.

"Well that was just stupid," Damian scoffed at you, taking your hand to examine it. He always did that sort of thing on patrol so you didn't pull away or even really register what he was doing.

"Oh i'm sorry, is my frustration not smart enough for you?" you sneered back. "What even is this place anyway," You looked around the small dark room, determined to not look him in the eyes.

"A containment cell for metas, we haven't used it for a while so the power blockers are probably turned off." he told you before releasing your hand. "You definitely bruised it but you'll be fine."

You reluctantly thanked him and turned back to the door to see if you could get it open somehow. "Ok so how do we get out?"

"We don't."

You flipped around, surprised to hear him give up without even trying. "You're kidding right? There's gotta be some way out of here. We're superheros, a few walls can't hold us,” you exclaimed. “Can't you use those ninja skills you're so proud of and like... kick it down, or something?" You watched him walk to the back of the small cell and sit down on the floor.

"No," he replied simply. "This room was built to hold the most dangerous people in Gotham and I don't know if you've noticed but we don't have any of our gear." He glared at you and you rolled your eyes.

"So we're just supposed to wait here until they get back? We can't just sit here all night," You tried to convince him to do... anything really.

"Well if you're so keen on getting out then let's hear your genius plan," He leaned forward with all the smugness of billionaires son, daring you to say something.  "That's what I thought. Now will you please be quiet, I can't even hear myself losing my will to live."

"Fine whatever we'll just stay here in complete silence," You muttered sarcastically under your breath. Damian remained quiet as you started pacing back and forth but you could tell he was watching you.

After pacing for about 30 minutes you realized how tired you were from training so hard the past couple of days and sat down in the corner. You spent so much time over the last week worrying about Damian that you hadn't let yourself relax long enough to get any real rest. The little sleep you did manage to get mostly turned to nightmares.

At first you didn't even realize you were asleep. It all looked real enough except for the fact that you'd somehow been transported to a rooftop. You scanned your surroundings but everything was just slightly out of focus so you couldn't tell exactly where you were. When you turned around you saw him. Damian was there, and behind him was a shadowy sort of silhouette.

The shadow raised a knife and you realized what was happening. You tried to warn him, you tried to scream or yell or move but it was no use. The knife plunged into Damians back and you were helpless to stop it. You felt the pain he felt, you felt the blade slice through you. Finally you could move again but it was too late. The shadow disappeared but you didn't care about it, all you wanted to do was get to Damian. You ran forward but it was like running through water, your body moved in slow motion and you watched the blood start to pool underneath him.

Suddenly you were falling. Damian was gone, the roof was gone, everything was gone, it was just you and a black abyss trying to swallow you up. You screamed again but no noise came out, it was like all the air was being sucked from your lungs. It was silent and dark and empty nothingness until you saw a faint light. Then you heard something, your name being repeated, someone calling you and then you were pulled out of the void.

You shot up and gasped for air and frantically looked around but your eyes hadn't adjusted to the light yet. You heard a familiar soothing voice pulled you farther out of your trance.

"Hey hey hey, it's ok i'm here." The voice was calm and concerned at the same time. "It's just me ok, you're safe," Rough hands gently turned your head and the first thing you saw clearly was a pair of worried green eyes. You're breathing slowed and you're heart nearly skipped a beat.

Wrapping your arms around his chest you pulled him closer. He hesitated for a moment before folding you into his embrace. It was soft and delicate and it seemed like he was scared of holding you too tightly. Neither of you said anything else, you just sat there on the floor of a meta containment cell in each other's arms.

Time stood still and you finally admitted the truth to yourself. The real reason you hated Damian was because you loved him.

A/n: might fuck around and make a part 3 with the classic “because i love you!” confession scene

[the-alice-of-hearts]

Kids again Ch 1

AO3 Next>

Ch 1: She likes to drink her coffee black

Summary:

Soulmates come in twos; At least they usually did

98% of the world's population has a soulmate bond. Of those, 80% have platonic bonds. Only .2% of all soul bonds connected more than two people.

Having three soulmates is exactly the kind of cosmic joke the universe would play on a True Wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous. If it gives a boy who still had a lot of life to live a second chance, well that is still in Creation's domain, now isn't it?

Marinette loved the boy in her heart, and the other two links were twisted around each other in a way only romantic pairs could be. If only she could have loved him enough to save him /||\ Jason wanted, more than anything, to protect the girl who his heart belonged to; protect her from the harness of the world, and then from what he had become.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves here, let's start at the beginning.

Ch 1: She likes to drink her coffee black

The first time Jason looked into his Soulmate’s life she was happy. Whoever she was, she seemed happy. The first strong emotion that he got from her was pure bliss and a sense of major accomplishment. The first time he got to see through her eyes he was eight years old. She was rushing out the door waving goodbye to smiling parents, a thermos in one hand and a cute pink backpack in the other. He cherished this memory like no other. There were other strong emotions from the bond, most of them were similar. She was happy and seemed strong. After that, Jason tried not to let his emotions overwhelm him; he didn’t want the girl with the happy laugh and the pink backpack to see where he was.

He knew he didn’t do as good a job as he tried. The feeling of worry in his heart that he knew came from her told him so. He could feel when she worried about him not eating enough, so he tried not to go to bed hungry too often. He could feel when she would panic because she hadn’t felt anything from him for too long. He would go and listen to the musicians playing on the streets; trying desperately to feel as happy as he could for her.

When he had gotten stabbed defending another kid from a man with a knife, he wasn’t sure if his panic was his own or hers. He felt like he was watching someone die though, so he was pretty sure it was her panic feeding into his own pain. He made sure to take care of himself so that she didn’t think he had died.

This went on for a long time; him looking in and seeing small bits of her life and later try to send good things back as much as he could. He figured out she was from Paris when the Eiffel Tower was in so many of the small glimpses he saw. So, he stole an English to French dictionary. He then found a bookstore, he could steal from it pretty easily, that had a copy of a book filled with his favourite fairy tales in French. He learned French, then he took it as his language elective. Slowly, he started to understand what she was saying in his visions of her. She had a small number of friends, but they were pretty close. She still worried about him far too often, but he noticed that on days where she was worried she would go out of her way to be as happy as possible. It was like she was trying to make him warm from the inside. And on those days, when was cold and hungry and desperate for a safe place to sleep, he would hold on to her happiness and promise himself that he would be happy for her tomorrow.

When he became Robin he was worried about her finding out. What if Bruce made him stop being Robin? For this reason, he stayed quiet about his Soulmate. Most bonds were platonic anyways, so he just didn’t mention that his bond was romantic.

He hoped she would at least get to see happier emotions from him. He knew that she had to have seen some of where he grew up, but he wanted to believe that maybe she would now get to see these happier moments. Jason vowed to live every happy moment to its fullest.

He hoped she got to see Alfred teaching him to cook, and him learning how to bake all her favourite pastries. He hoped she saw Dick teaching him gymnastics, seeing all the times he fell but got back up. He wanted her to see him and Dick goofing off and the times they would go sneak off behind Bruce’s back when he told them not to skip patrol to do just that and get ice cream in the suits. He hoped she saw him and Bruce sitting in the library reading, the two of them watching movies together when he was too sick to patrol. He wanted her to see that he had a family that loved him now. He hoped that she wouldn’t worry about him so much anymore; that he wouldn’t be a burden on her anymore.

He thought he had hidden this from his new family, but somehow Alfred always knew everything. Jason almost panicked when Alfred broached the conversation while he was teaching Jason to make macarons

“Does your Soulmate have a favourite flavor, Master Jason?”

“I- uh,” he tried to come up with a way to deny it, but knew that he would never get something past Alfred. Still he tried, “What do you mean?”

Alfred smiled, not looking away from measuring the ingredients. “Growing up, my best friend had a Soulmate that grew up in a troubled home. He told me he knew when she was in a better place because she started pouring emotions into everything she did so that he could feel, as well as see, that she was safe.” Alfred turned back to the cabinet looking at their ingredients. “I just thought that you seemed to be doing something similar. I apologize if I misread the situation.”

Jason stood there thinking for a moment. He looked around and listened to make sure Bruce wasn’t about to walk into the kitchen. He moved closer to Alfred so he could whisper, ”Her name is Marinette. I heard one of her friends call her Netté, though.” When Alfred didn’t stop him from talking he kept going. “She likes matcha ones best, but she always tells her mom that she likes strawberry ones because they're less work.”

That was all that was said. They finished making the cookies and Alfred packaged them up for him to have in his room. Jason was pretty sure that Alfred knew he was hoarding food, but so long as no one stopped him and probably even if they did he would keep doing it. Living on the streets taught him that a next meal isn’t guaranteed, and even if it was unlikely he would ever go hungry under Alfred’s watchful eyes, he still wanted a back up plan if he needed to make a break for it.

The next time someone asked about her was about a year later on a stakeout in Blüdhaven with Dick. Bruce had gotten scared when Jason got hurt and wouldn’t let him patrol in Gotham until his injuries had completely healed. Jason got antsy and ran away to crash on Dick’s couch until Bruce let up on the restriction.

Dick had just sat down next to him on the building they were on. “Hey, Little Wing”

Jason turned to him. “Yeah?”

“Do you ever try to send your soulmate messages?”

Jason’s throat closed up in terror. Dick kept talking as though he hadn’t noticed Jason tensing up and planning an escape route. “It’s just, sometimes I see what he’s seeing and I don’t know how to tell him that I want to look out for him, ya know? And his dad is kinda distant, but his mom loves him a lot. I don’t know though, because sometimes I can feel dread coming from my soul link but without any glimpses into what he’s seeing. Alfred thought maybe I have a platonic soulmate that is experiencing dread. Lately I’ve only had happy and joyful feelings so I’m worried that if I do have a platonic soulmate that maybe something bad happened to them. I have no idea how I would be able to send a message to a platonic soulmate though, so I wondered if maybe you knew?”

Jason had slowly gotten more confused while listening to his brother. He hadn’t considered the possibility of having more than one soulmate. “Wait, you mean you can have more than one Soulmate? I thought Soulmates were pairs?”

Dick shrugged. “My parents explained it being more like pieces of the same picture. Most bonds are platonic and platonic bonds are more likely to be someone who you grew up near, so you would have similar experiences with similar emotional responses. That’s why people don’t always notice them, but when you have a romantic bond that you can actually see through each other's eyes, you notice, yeah?”

Jason nodded. “So you have a romantic Soulmate, but think you also have a platonic bond?”

Dick ran a hand through his hair staring out at the windows they were watching, “Yeah, I don’t know how to describe it though. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I have three soulmates. The third is a lot quieter though. My mom laughed once and told me maybe it wasn’t that I had three soulmates, but that my soulmates had another link to each other.”

“Does that happen?”

“I don’t think so, but the stories about that happening are more fairy tale than concrete evidence. I like to think I have three though. I hope that, whoever my platonic bond is, they have their own romantic bond they can lean on. I don’t know if there is anything I can do for them unless I figure out who they are.”

Jason scoffed and then went on the alert seeing movement in the room. “We’ve finally got company.”

Dick smiled and ran back a few steps. “Wanna see me do a flip into the window?”

“Ten bucks says you don’t break the glass and fall on the ground.”

He laughed at that. “Be ready to pay up, Little Wing. I’ll get the two gunmen, then you swing in and help me with the others.”

He took a running start and jumped off the roof they had been on, doing a flip to keep his momentum up. He crashed through the glass rolling into a handspring, kicking the guns out of the two goons' hands. Jason followed using his grappling hook to get across to the now-broken window.

A short fight later and they had the men all tied up. Dick called the police with the info and then they were grappling away from the scene.

“Hey, Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“Earlier you said that you wanted to figure out who your platonic soulmate was.”

Dick landed on top of the building his apartment was in, then looked at him. “Yeah. I just want to know if I can help them.”

Jason followed him down the fire escape, “I thought that soulmates knew when they found each other; you make it seem like that’s not how it works?”

Dick walked into his room to grab clothes. “When you only have one soulmate, there is a glow when you touch each other the first time. It’s your soul telling you it’s complete, but if you have more than one you only get that if you find all the pieces of your soul.”

“Oh.” He caught the pants Dick threw at him. “Thanks for talking to me about this. I guess there was a lot I didn’t know.”

They crashed on the couch to play video games and eat leftovers. The conversation hung heavy in the air, though. Jason felt like, if he talked first, he would tell Dick everything, but, if Dick had had a romantic Soulmate this whole time, then Bruce had to know about it.

He looked up at his brother from where he was laying with his legs over the side of the couch. “Does Bruce know you have a romantic Soulmate?”

Dick looked down at him from where he was perched on the back of the couch. “Yeah? Why?”

Jason shot Dick's character while he wasn’t paying attention, trying to make him stop looking at him like that. He mulled over the question while avoiding the looks Dick was still giving him during his respawn times. In a small voice he finally answered, “He didn’t make you stop being Robin?”

That made Dick pause the game. He dropped down to sit on the cushion of the couch, leaning his head over Jason to look him in the eyes. “Jason, Alfred would never let Bruce use one of us having a Soulmate as a reason to kick us out of the suit.”

Jason pushed him back so he could sit up. Turning to look at him, he took a deep breath. “He kicked me out of the suit for being hurt. He fired you and sent you here. Why would having a Soulmate be any different?”

Dick reached out and hugged Jason. He felt Dick’s shirt becoming wet from tears he hadn’t realized he was crying. “Oh, baby bird, no, that’s not gonna happen, and if Bruce tries it, then you have a place here. You did really good back there, I would love to have your help anytime.”

Jason sniffled and wrapped his arms around Dick. “What if he tries to make you send me back?”

Dick was still rubbing circles on his back, talking soothingly. “Bruce can’t make me do anything. My bank account has Alfred as my responsible party, and Clark is the name on the lease. If you want to stay here you can, and no one gets to take my brother away from me okay?” Jason nodded, still sniffling but getting his tears under control. “Now enough sad talk. How about I kick your ass in this game and tomorrow I’ll take you to the gym I use and help you with your flips.”

Jason laughed wholeheartedly at that. Sitting up and discreetly wiping his tears, he grabbed his controller again. “Don’t know why you keep trying. You’re not gonna win at this any more than I’m gonna be able to do a backhandspring tomorrow.”

And that was it.

Bruce either didn’t know about his romantic Soulmate, or he really didn’t care. Jason started keeping a journal of written notes about her. He wanted to be able to find her one day, so he needed to know everything he could.

An incomplete list of things I know about my soulmate

Her name is Marinette

Her friends also call her Netté or Mari

She drinks a lot of coffee, usually black. She grabs it on the way to class. Is that a french thing? I feel like I only ever see her with coffee? That can’t be right, maybe it’s from the all-nighters? Her friends have teased her about not sleeping before. Is that more often than I think?

She ignores her own needs to help her friends

She’s like a year younger than me I think.

Her nonna (grandmother?) calls her Marinetta or Little Fairy (could I call her Pixie?)

Lives in Paris

She has an Asian mother; Chinese?

She has an Asian name, but I don’t remember it. Her parents use it but not often enough for me to write it down

Her father is French-Italian

She is in gymnastics, but can be clumsy

Kim, Nino, and Alix are her friends.

Chloe used to be her friend. She doesn’t know what changed things

She likes to draw

She wants to be a clothing designer

She made me something? I couldn’t see what it was, but her mom was really proud of her accomplishment.

She is a really good baker

She likes matcha macarons best; but she never asks for them. She feels guilty about her parents making them just for her

She can lift a giant bag of sugar like it weighs nothing

She likes to help people

She likes pink

She is nice and good. At least I think so.

The list was in a small red notebook. It stayed with him all the time; that way whenever something happened, he could write down any details. He filled the other pages of the book with things he wanted to tell his Soulmate, small bits of his life that he wanted to share with her. He had a spot in his utility belt for it to be, and a pocket in his jacket that he kept it in. He had once shown Dick the list and the pages that he had written about him and Alfred. He smiled when Dick showed him his own similar notebook. Dick’s romantic Soulmate was also from Paris; they both wondered if their Soulmates knew each other.

Jason liked to think so

[steves-on-a-plane]

Keeping the Monsters At Bay

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Anxiety Attacks, mentions of nightmares, mentions of broken bones Word Count: 2137 Square Filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ Free Space & @buckybarnesbingo​ U5 *Picture Square* Summary: Reader forgot to replenish the medical supplies after a previous mission and it’s almost time for the team to leave for the next one. The pressure triggers an anxiety attack for Reader, which is when Bucky comes upon them. With Bucky’s help, Reader is able to manage the attack. The next night Reader is able to return the favor when they’re awoken by screaming. Bucky is having nightmares again so Reader helps him get through the night. 

“Shit!” You hissed out the word as you slammed the storage compartment closed. You looked over your shoulder to see if anyone else had overheard your outburst. Dr. Banner was the only on the quinjet with you. He politely pretended not to have heard you. The other’s would be arriving soon and expect you to be ready to go. You opened another compartment only to discover it too was empty.

“Everything all right, [Y/N}?” Bruce asked after you loudly closed a third compartment.

“Yes, I think so.” You sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

You stormed out of the quintet mumbling every curse word you could think of. On the last mission Steve had asked you to rotate the medical supplies. Apparently you’d remembered to empty all the medical compartments, but never refilled the supplies. As soon as you were sure that you were out of Bruce’s sight you began running through the corridors. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach when you thought of how you could be a reason for the mission to be delayed. You didn’t have much time together everything you needed, but you’d have to do your best. The last thing you wanted was to be in the field and not have something you needed.

“[Y/N]!” Tony called out to you as you almost collided with him. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“Sorry Tony, I’ve just got to grab something quick.” You told him without stopping.

“Wheels up in ten minutes!” He shouted after you. “That’s with or without you!” He hadn’t meant anything by it. You knew he didn’t because half of everything Tony said wasn’t serious. You also knew there was no way Steve would let him leave you behind, but you couldn’t rationalize with anxiety.

You really wished you could turn this part of you off. There was never a convenient time for an anxiety attack, but a mission was one of the worst times. You were already experiencing a stomach pain so intense it felt the way a towel looks when it’s being wrung out. You knew what would happen next, the worrying and overthinking. You’d worry so much about making sure to pack everything that you were bound to forget something. You felt the pain in your chest as you rounded the next corner.

“Almost there.” You whispered as you forced yourself from a run to a walking pace. You were starting to have troubling breathing. You tried to tell yourself it was from the running and the worrying. It would go away once you had all the supplies. That did nothing to sooth the burning feeling in your lungs.

“[Y/N]?” You’d been so inside of your own head, you hadn’t seen Bucky at the other end of the hall. Gasping for breaths now, you allowed yourself to lean against the wall and waited for him to come to you. “Are you okay?” He asked you quietly.

You nodded “Yes” Unable to answer him verbally. He seemed unhappy with that answer.

“You wanna try that again?” He asked. His tone was gentle, inventing. It lacked the usual sarcastic whipping you were used to from him.

“I’m…fine.” You managed between gasps. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing. It was no use. A part of you was still acutely aware of the time crunch you were under. You didn’t have time for an anxiety attack, which was only making it worse.

“You can lie to me if you want to, but it’s not going to fix the situation.” Bucky said. You opened your mouth to tell him again that you were fine and instead you began to cry. You confessed to Bucky the reason that you were so upset.

“The medical supplies? [Y/N] you didn’t forget to refill those after the last mission. Tony was doing something to the jet a few weeks ago and there was a hydraulic fuel leak. A bunch of the stuff in the jet was ruined. Steve and Tony forgot they’d thrown it all away. That’s what I’m doing here.” He removed the backpack he was wearing and opened it. You could see the bag was filled with supplies.

“We have to go.” You gasped. Instead of feeling better, you felt worse. You’d wasted time coming all the way here you were making everyone else late.

“They’ll wait for us.” Bucky said with certainty. “Do you have water with you?”

“I’m not thirsty.” You told him.

“You’ll feel better if you drink water.” He produced a water bottle from his backpack and forced it into your shaking hands. You tried to sip slowly from the bottle, it did seem to loosen the horrible feeling in your gut a little. “Would it be okay if I hugged you?” He asked. “Sometimes it helps to regulate the breathing.”

You nodded. Bucky wrapped his arms around you. It was like magic how he held you just enough to feel secure but not too tight that you felt trapped.

“We’re going to take big deep breaths and let them out together, okay?” You nodded again, nestling close to him. The act felt a little childish, but it was helping you. After a minute of breathing together and sipping from your water, you were calming down. You were already feeling the post-anxiety attack drain on your system. You felt like you could sleep for a week.

“Okay.” He smiled. “Ready to go? We can take another minute if you need…”

“We should go. We’ve already kept them waiting.” You started to jog away.

“[Y/N], wait.” Bucky caught your hand and you stopped. “We can walk. The extra two minutes won’t make a difference. You continued down the hall together, with Bucky still holding your hand. You decided you should say something before you joined the others.

“Thanks for that back there.” You mumbled.

“Anytime.” He vowed. “Attacks like that can be hard to pull your own way out of. It helps to have someone who can help.”

“I hate asking for help.” You confessed.

“I’ve noticed.” He nodded. “But we’ve got your back. That’s what being on a team means.”

“I haven’t had an attack like that in a long time.” You explained. “I thought I’d grown out of it.”

“You don’t outgrow anxiety [Y/N].” He said. You didn’t know what to say. You were coming up on the quinjet and could tell everyone else had boarded. Tony was standing outside waiting for you both.

“Barnes, [Y/L/N] is this mission an inconvenience to you?” You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment and the panic rising in your chest again. Bucky gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Honestly, yeah, it’s put a damper on my plans for sure.” Bucky called back. “Especially since I had to go all the way to medical to refresh the supplies you ruined.”

“Well, thank you ever so kindly for your contribution Sargent Barnes.” Tony said with a salute. “Thanks for collecting him [Y/N].” Tony winked at you. “He’d probably still be down there gathering bandages without you.”

You and Bucky walked past Tony and continued onto the jet. Bucky dropped your hand and went over to the compartments designated for medical supplies. He began organizing everything While Tony and Steve prepped the jet for take-off.

“Did you find what you needed, [Y/N]?” Bruce asked.

“Hmm? Yeah, I think so.” You nodded. “What did I miss in the briefing?” You changed the subject.

The mission you’d been sent on was, all things considered, a brief one. You were all back by dinner time the following night. The most severe injury had been your own. You sustained a broken fibia when you failed to stick what should have been an easy landing for you. Clint had patched you up in the field and you’d gotten yourself to the team doctor as soon as you got back.

The team lapsed into their post mission routines. For most that meant well deserved naps in their dorms. Steve always liked to work in his debriefings right away and Tony had a new piece of alien tech he wanted to play with.

Your usual post mission routine consisted of pacing around the building until your body and mind were too tired to do anything but sleep. With a broken ankle you couldn’t exactly do that, but you still had no interest in spending the night in the infirmary. As soon as your leg was wrapped in a cast and you received the okay from the doctor, you hobbled out of the medical wing on crutches. Your dorm wasn’t too far away and you were confident you could make it all the way there without assistance.

You were already wearing a plain pair of grey sweatpants an Avengers logo tshirt that had been given to you in medical, so you didn’t bother changing once you reached your dorm. You didn’t bother turning on the lights either. You just placed your crutches by the door and hopped on one foot over to the bed. You feel asleep as soon as your head touched the pillow.

Screaming. You were awakened with a start to the sound of screams. You opened your eyes and tried to listen to where the screaming was coming from. It sounded like one of the dorms. Not wanting to waste any time, and crutches be damned, you raced from your room. The screaming had stopped, which only concerned you more. The lights were off in every dorm in the hall except one, Bucky’s.

With a sliver of light visible under his door, you knocked. When he answered Bucky was covered in sweat. His hair was sticking to his face and he was panting harder than if he’d just run a marathon.

“[Y/N], everything okay?” He asked like you’d been the one screaming your head off just know.

“You tell me, Buck.” You answered. “Either you’re having a hell of a good time in here by yourself or…” you indicated your disheveled appearance.

“Nothing to worry about.” He told you. You didn’t believe him.

“Are you really going to try to ice me out?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “I was honestly with you yesterday when…”

“It’s nothing to worry about, [Y/N].” He repeated. “I’m sorry if I woke you. Shouldn’t you be resting your leg?” He pointed to your cast.

“I was, until someone’s screaming woke me up.” You pointed out.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” He apologized awkwardly. “I’m good now.”

“Why were you screaming? Were you having nightmares again?” You asked.

“They’ll go away on their own.” He told you.

“Aren’t you the same person who told me that my anxiety wouldn’t go away on its own and that it’s okay to ask for help?” You reminded him. “I’m here, let me help.”

“It’s not that easy [Y/N].” He frowned.

“Bucky your room is across the hall from mine, so I know you don’t get nightmares every night. You haven’t found anything that helps stop them?” You questioned.

“Well,” He hesitated. There was one thing that seemed to help keep the nightmares away, but he hadn’t exactly tested his theory. He’d only noticed that while he was away on missions, if he had someone sleeping close by him, he would sleep through the night. Steve was the only person he’d felt comfortable sharing this information with so far.

“Let me help you.” You insisted, reaching out and taking his hand. Bucky explained his dilemma to you. “Oh, that’s all?” You smiled at him. “I could stay in here with you. I’m supposed to be resting my leg anyway so would be a win-win. My leg gets to rest, and we both get some sleep.”

“What if someone were to find out you were sleeping in here?” He worried.

“We don’t have tell them why.” You promised. “It’s none of their business. C’mon, help me in the bed.” You put an arm around his neck and leaned against him, relieving the weight on your bad leg.

“You’re sure this is okay with you?” He put an arm around your waist and helped you over to the bed.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” You promised as you sat on the bed.

“Are you okay with the lights on?” he asked, sitting down next to you.

“Whatever helps Bucky.”  You nodded. He laid down and you snuggled up next to him. You hadn’t imagined how soft his muscular chest would be, it was the best pillow you’d ever had. When he wrapped an arm around you to hold you close, you were immediately enveloped in warmth.

“This okay?” He questioned.

“Mm-hmm.”  You hummed happily while he drew the bedcovers over both of you.

“Good night [Y/N].” He whispered as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Good night, Buck.” You yawned before drifting off to sleep.  

[slowly-writing]

Alone

Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader

Requested by anon: hey, could you write a natasha x daughter!reader where the daughter is really depressed and maybe she ods on pills or something and after the daughter ends up telling nat about her feelings (if that doesn’t make you feel uncomfy) thanks! i love your writing btw😁

Word count: 3.1k (longest one yet)

Trigger Warning: mentions of depression and suicide attempts. Please do not read this if it will trigger you

You trudge through the school hallway before first period, rubbing your eyes and trying your best to shut out the world. All you can see are the smiling faces of your classmates and it makes your heart sink even further down in your chest. All you want is to be happy like them, but all you have is forced laughs and fake smiles. You’re tired. Tired of pretending to be okay. Tired of feeling the way you do. Tired of being here. Nobody notices that though, you know how to hide your emotions well, maybe too well. You learned from the best, you don’t think you’ve ever seen your mom cry, so you won’t let anyone see you cry either.

You tug on the sleeves of your hoodie for what has to be the tenth time in as many minutes, pulling them down over your hands and not daring to let your wrists be seen. You let yourself be absorbed in the music blasting through your headphones as you get your books from your locker. A tapping on your shoulder pulls you back into reality. When you turn around Peter is standing behind you smiling, and you feel a small bit of joy and the sight of the sweet boy.

“Hey, y/n! What’s up? Are you doing okay?” Peter asks in that happy tone he always seems to have.

“Nothing much, and yeah. I’m good,” you say with a shrug, shoving the last of your books in your bag as the two of you head off towards class.

“Are you sure? You seem sad,” Peter says, softer this time. His smile is still there and you think maybe you could talk to him, but decide against it as you meet his eyes. His eyes, while full of joy, also show how tired he is. He’s living with his own secrets, and you won’t burden him with yours as well.

“Yeah Pete, I’m good. I just stayed up late studying,” you brush off his concern with a lie, not thinking much of it, it seems lying is all you do these days.

xxxxx

“Hey kid, how was school?” Tony’s voice startles you as you walk into the kitchen. You expected everyone to be off training but when you glance to your right you see half the team sitting at the table.

“Uh, it was fine,” you mumble, forcing a smile onto your face and walking to the fridge to avoid eye contact. The conversation behind you picks up again and you let out a sigh of relief, exhausted at the mere thought of putting on an act.

“Do you want to do something? We were saying it’s been a while since we’ve had a family day,” Steve says and you can tell he’s smiling before you even turn around.

“We were thinking about having a movie night,” your mom suggests and you take a breath, knowing she’ll see even the tiniest hint of a lie if you’re not careful.

“I can’t. I have a big test Monday, I’m going to be studying most of the weekend,” you tell them and you see the wheels turning in your mom’s head.

“I thought you had a big test this week?” Clint questions and you momentarily panic, you’ll need a new excuse soon.

“It’s Junior year, I guess they’re all big tests,” you shrug, seeing your escape and making your way towards the door, “have fun with your movie night.”

xxxxx

You’re sitting in your room a while later staring at nothing in particular when there’s a knock on your door. You snap out of your daze, calling for the person to come in.

“Hey, I didn’t see you in class today. I just wanted to check in,” Wanda says as she sits on your bed next to you, but leaving enough space to make sure you don’t feel cornered, she knows how nervous it makes you.

“Oh yeah, I wasn’t feeling chemistry today. I hid out in the library,” you say and she nods. You think the conversation is over but when you look over at her she has her brows furrowed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you go to brush her off again but she stops you, “don’t lie and say you’re fine, I know you’re not. These last few days, few months really, you’ve got this cloud around you. I can tell you’re sad, and so little of the old y/n shines through. Your emotions, the things you’re feeling, I feel it all and it’s like you’re screaming at me to help you. It’s like you’re disappearing right before my eyes, and I’m the only one who can see it. I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help.”

You stop for a moment. You’ve stumbled into another perfect opportunity. Wanda is sitting next to you, practically begging you to open up to her, and you almost do. Then you remember everything she’s been through. You remember the way she acted when she first moved in. She was barely a shell of a girl, her eyes held a sadness nobody should have to endure and she was so scared. She’s finally begun to be happy here, and you won’t be the one to drag her down again.

“It’s just school. I’ve got college applications coming up, I guess it’s stressing me out. You don’t have to worry about it, I’ll be okay,” you plaster a smile across your face and she sighs. She glances around your room, looking for an excuse to stay when she spots your guitar.

“You know I’ve always wanted to learn to play. Maybe you can teach me sometime?” you follow her gaze and pick up the instrument, brushing off the dust it’s collected from sitting untouched for months.

“Take it,” you hold it out towards her and she shakes her head.

“Y/n, I couldn’t-”

“Just take it. Someone should play it,” she stares at you and you nod. She gently takes it from your hand and you smile at her.

“You’ll talk to me, if you need me. Right?” Wanda pauses at your door.

“I’ll be okay,” you say, not quite lying but it seems to satisfy her and she gently closes the door behind her.

xxxxx

You look at the stack of papers on your desk, a list of everyone you’d want to say goodbye to. There’s almost a dozen notes all addressed to different members of your family, apologizing to them and explaining why you’re doing what you’re doing. You started out looking for a reason to stay but the more you stare at the notes the more you see how everyone has someone. Everyone except you.  

Steve finally got Bucky back, and they understand each other in ways you could never dream of. All you could ever be to them was an annoyance. Some kid from a time they didn’t understand.

Bruce and Tony, the science bros as you’ve been calling them since you were little, will keep on experimenting and inventing. They don’t need you wandering in and screwing up their lab equipment.

Thor has Valkyrie, and they’ve both been off-world for months anyway. They have their own people to watch over. They don’t need to worry about you too.

Wanda and Peter will take care of each other. Neither of them are strangers to loss, and they’ll pull each other through. All the great friendships come in pairs anyway, you’d just be a glorified third wheel.

Clint has a whole family to watch out for, and you’re nothing but a bad influence for his kids. A cautionary tale about paths not to go down. You know he’ll take care of your mom, they were family long before you came along. She’ll be better off without you to look out for. She’s the world’s greatest spy, she doesn’t need to be distracted trying to make sure you don’t screw up.

Everyone here will be fine without you, you can hear them all laughing in the common room right now, and you nod to yourself. It’s time.

You leave the light in your bedroom on as you step into the hallway. You close the door silently and glance to your right. The couches are crammed with everyone laughing and smiling in the dimly lit room. They fit perfectly, they don’t have room for one more. So you turn to your left, you can’t sneak into the elevator without one of them noticing you, so you take the stairs up one floor to the med wing.

You enter the room that held all the medicines, they never locked anything up here. You wonder if they’ll regret that as you look through the bottles of pills. You grab a bottle that’s labeled Benzo-something and decide it will work. You grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and make your way to the elevators. You tell Jarvis to take you to the roof and step out into the cool evening air a few moments later.

You take one last look at the New York skyline. You’ve always loved this view. You take off your jacket, and for the first time in months feel the cool breeze on your scarred arms. After a few moments you step back, sitting criss cross on the floor and opening the pill bottle. You pour a few tablets into your hand, silently wondering how many it will take to do the job. You tip the bottle again, pouring until your hand is nearly full, and decide that’ll be enough.

You’re calmer than you thought you’d be as you bring your hand to your mouth. You expected to cry, to feel scared, but you don’t. All you feel is the slight discomfort as you force the pills down your throat, then you just feel numb.

xxxxx

“Do you think we could convince y/n to join us?” Bucky wonders aloud as Steve pauses the movie.

“She’s been really down lately, it’s starting to worry me,” Tony says softly, that tone of voice is rare for him, and everyone agrees.

“She always wears these giant hoodies at school, even though it’s almost summer, like she’s trying to hide. She flinches away if you try to touch her arms. Whenever I ask if she’s okay she just makes up some lame excuse, I never want to push but I think maybe I should,” Peter joins in and a heavy silence falls over the room.

“I’m gonna go try and talk to her,” Nat says softly as she walks the few yards to your room. They all watch as she knocks a few times, entering when she hears no reply. There’s a few beats of silence before anything happens. “No no no.”

Your mom’s voice is barely above a whisper but they all know it’s bad. When she steps back out she’s holding a stack of papers. The look on her face is one that none of them have seen before, pure terror.

“What is that?” Steve asks as everyone jumps into action rushing to her side, but she can’t even form the words to tell them. Clint gently pulls the papers from her hands and skims through them. He swallows hard, trying to choke down the bile rising in his throat as everyone stares at him, waiting for an answer as to what could be found in a 16 year old’s room that scared the Black Widow.

“They’re suicide notes. There’s one addressed to each of us,” Clint says softly as Natasha grabs them back, rereading the words she knows will haunt her for the rest of her life. There’s a moment of silence before everyone starts talking at once.

“Where did she even go?” Wanda is the first to speak up, tears already streaming down her face.

“It’s a secure facility, she didn’t just disappear!” Tony says quickly, staring off into the distance as he runs through the short list of places you could be hiding.

“Everyone spread out and start looking!” Steve snaps everyone into action and they all scatter.

Nat is left alone, still frozen in front of your bedroom door as everyone fans out. She stares at the papers in her hands before she realizes where you are. She drops the papers, letting them flutter to the floor as she takes off towards the staircase. She takes the steps two at a time, making it to the roof in record time. You flinch as the door slams open and lazily roll over from where you’ve laid on the floor to look towards the sound.

“Oh, hi mom,” you flail your arm towards her in an attempted wave and she gasps at the state you’re in. Both the angry red marks covering your arms and the fact that you’re barely conscious scare her more than she thought possible. She can hear your breathing, ragged and slow and she feels more tears fall from her eyes.

“Y/n what did you do?” she yells, running towards you and picking up the mostly empty bottle of medicine.

“I want to go away,” you mumble, eyes drooping closed.

“No no no, you’re not going anywhere. Stay with me, love. I’ve got you, mommy’s here,” Natasha says as she lifts you into her arms. You groan as she jostles you, but you don’t protest anymore as you slowly drift off.

xxxxx

You hear a steady beeping and whispers as you wake up. You blink your eyes open and see a room packed full of people, all in various states of distress.

“Why would she do that? Why would…” Peter trails off. He has tear tracks down his face and his eyes are red. Tony’s sitting on his left with his arm around Peter.

“I don’t know kid,” he says softly, sniffling a bit.

“I knew she wasn’t okay. I should’ve done more,” Wanda’s eyes are trained on the floor and her face is emotionless as she sits on Peter’s right, gripping his hand tightly.

“You couldn’t have known-” Steve tries to reassure her but she cuts him off, standing up quickly and drawing all attention to her.

“I did know! I could feel how sad she was! What good are these stupid powers if I can’t do a fucking thing to help my best friend? I failed her,” Wanda now has tears streaming down her face and you can feel yourself tearing up.

“I didn’t want your help,” your voice is soft and scratchy, but everyone hears you and all eyes in the room quickly turn to you. “I didn’t want you to know that I was struggling. I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s not your job to take care of me.”

“Yes it is,” your mom says quickly. You try to argue but she raises a hand, causing you to stop. “I know you want to be independent but we’re your family. Of course it’s our job to take care of you. Everyone needs some help sometimes and you have every right to ask for it.”

“I’m not worth it. You don’t need me here,” you say with a shrug, wiping the tears of frustration from your eyes. You ball your hands into fists and stare down at them, refusing to look at your family.

“Yes we do. We all need you here and don’t think for a single fucking second that we don’t,” your moms voice cracks and you finally look up at her, seeing the tears streaming down her face.

“We all need you. Who else is gonna come remind me that sleep is a thing when I’ve been down in the lab for 28 hours straight?” Tony asks with a small smile.

“Yeah! And without you I would’ve flunked Calculus last semester, May would’ve killed me,” Peter says and immediately winces at his choice of words.

“She really would have,” you say, smiling a bit at his attempt to cheer you up.

“We all need you, y/n. You’re my best friend, the person I love most in this world. You’re all I have left, I don't know what I would do without you. You’re the only reason I made it through Pietro’s death. I never thought I’d be okay but you made sure I was. I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for you,” Wanda sits on your left side, gently taking your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as the tears start rolling down your face. You look towards your mom again, hoping if she understands why you did it, she’ll forgive you. “I thought it’d be better for you all if I was gone. I’m just so sad all the time. Nothing I used to like is fun anymore and I just want everything to stop. It’s too much. I kept pushing through, but every reason to keep living just kept going away. You all have someone more important to you than me, so why should I stay? You’d all be okay.”

Your mom lets out a shaky breath as she brushes the hair out of your eyes, resting her hand against your cheek, “love, I would never be okay without you. When I brought you home all those years ago, you changed my life. I have never loved anyone as much as I love you, and I’m so sorry I didn’t show you that. I will always be here for you, everyone in this room is always here for you. Please, please tell us next time you need help.”

You’re both sobbing at this point and you throw yourself into her arms, apologizing over and over and begging her to forgive you.

“I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t think anyone would care. I’m sorry,” your words draw tears from everyone in the room.

“I know you didn’t want to hurt us, love. It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you some help, okay?” your mom reassures you and you nod, burrowing deeper into her arms. Your whole family watches the interaction silently, wiping tears from their eyes and vowing to never let you feel this alone again.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @m19friend @worlds-in-words @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff

[melodious-madrigals]

dancing

Another one-shot for @wondertrevnet’s wondertrevbingo2020.

Prompt: dancing Word Count: 2306 Rating: General Audiences Summary: Being Bruce’s friend lands Diana in some pretty interesting places, including a masquerade ball, and she finds herself dancing with a handsome stranger. But there’s a certain magic to anonymity that might keep it from becoming something more…Three years, three dances, plenty of fluff.

Find it below the cut or on AO3.

***

2018  

Being Bruce's friend lands Diana in some pretty funny places, she's found.

Once, it was just outside an Antarctic research lab in the middle of a penguin colony. Once, it was the in-palace bowling alley of an Emirati prince. By comparison, a masquerade ball is fairly tame.

He claims it's so he has an extra pair of eyes, but she wonders if maybe he's just tired of going to these events alone.

They dance the first dance together, a proper waltz with perfect posture and 20 centimeters of distance in their frame.

"If you could stay here and mingle," he says as the dance ends, voice low and gruff, "that would be excellent."

She nods, and makes her way along the perimeter of the ballroom floor, doing a mental catalogue of the entrances and exits while telegraphing that she could use a dance partner.

It works. Before she's even reached the refreshment table, she's asked back onto the dance floor.

The third dance in, a dark-haired man with an almost-full Venetian mask asks her to dance. She was just about to circle back and find Bruce, but the detailing on his mask—cogs and swirling time-hands, like a deconstructed antique clock—is the most striking she's seen all night, and on a whim, she accepts.

It's a mistake, or maybe it isn't.

Her partner turns out to be horribly, unfairly diverting. He's witty and intelligent, and a naturally gifted dancer (even if he's not a technically perfect one). Diana finds she hasn't smiled this much in a long time, as one dance somehow turns into three while they spin across the floor.

They somehow get into a light-hearted argument about the relative merits of various breakfast foods, and she finishes an impassioned defense of pancakes only to find him grinning at her, and it seems natural, familiar, and for a second she wishes she could see his eyes better, wondering if and how they might crinkle with his smile—

"If you say so, Angel," he says, interrupting her train of thought.

"Angel?" she laughs, and he nods at the golden wings on her mask, slightly reminiscent of armor she once wore. (She chose the mask because it fit the theme and also because it obscured her hairline, and cheekbones; if Bruce really has brought her for surveillance, she's coming prepared.)

Partway through the evening—their fifth dance, or maybe their sixth—she sees Bruce has descended back into the main ballroom. He gives her a little nod, and she takes it for what it is: an acknowledgement that so far, everything is fine. It suits her well; she didn't really want to stop chatting with the mystery man.

They end up talking for the rest of the night. His humor is dry and his opinions are good, and there's something about him that she can't quite put her finger on. Maybe it's the zinging, insuppressible attraction she feels, the likes of which she hasn't felt since—well, it's been awhile, anyways.

There's a waltz winding down when his question comes. "Will you let me take off your mask, when the evening is over?"

She wants to, she thinks. But this night has been so magical, and for a second, because of the uncanny similarities, she's allowed herself to imagine that this stranger is Steve. She doesn't want that to end. Wants to keep this perfect memory to herself, just this once.

"No."

"Why?" It's not accusatory, the way men often are. She doesn't get the sense that he's angry about it, just that he wants to know.

They're still swaying in gentle circles when she says, "You sound a little like someone I knew, once upon a time."

"I won't press," he says, "but I do have a request. Next year, if you're here, if we find each other again—would you consider it?"

He gently disengages and kisses the back of her gloved hand.

"My mum used to tell me that at this time of year, anything is possible. Just think about it, would you?" He says, backing away.

"How would we even find each other?" she calls after.  

The man shrugs. "A minute ago you weren't even considering it. I can take my chances with fate. Goodbye, Angel."

For a moment, she thinks she's going to run after him. Diana is intimately acquainted with fate, and it's never done her any favors. But she lets him go. She'll forget all about this in a few weeks.

Sighing, she moves in the opposite direction to look for Bruce. Just because she's been otherwise occupied doesn't mean she hasn't been surveying the room like he asked, but there's been nothing suspicious. She'll check in with him, and go home.

She's in need of a bubble bath, and maybe a good cry while she's at it.

***

2019

Diana, whose memory is crisp as a fresh-fallen autumn leaf, does not forget the stranger she danced with for most of the evening. She wonders, sometimes, what would have happened if they'd unmasked. It would have become real, would've led to disappointment. Still, there are days that she forgets why she said no.

On one of those days, she texts Bruce.

Didn't think it was your thing. Happy to have you, though, arrives five minutes later.

She's just booked herself for another dance.

*

Her dark-haired stranger isn't there.

She's looked for him, but despite taking several turns around the room with people who are the right build, she hasn't found him.

It was stupid to assume she might find him, that he'd even be here, that he even remembered, a year on.

She ducks out of the ballroom, past a thick velvet curtain, and out a door onto a terraced patio leading down into the garden. The blast of cold air is a welcome respite from the stuffiness of the ball, the sticky warmth of so many humans in a confined space.

She looks to the sky, and takes a deep breath. She's suffered disappointments far greater than this one. Up above, the night is clear, and the stars are bright. Keep calm and carry on, as Etta would say.

Diana has nearly collected herself enough to march back into the ballroom when the door opens and light and music from the party spill out.

It's a tall blonde man in an intricate Venetian mask and long coattails. He looks nearly as surprised to see her as she is to see him.

"Sorry," he splutters. "Didn't mean to interrupt. I can just—"

"No," Diana interjects. "I was just about to go."

The man pauses first, and Diana doesn't catch up 'til a second later, as she's moving towards the door and he says, stunned, "Angel?"

"But you've got dark hair," is what falls out of her mouth without her brain's permission, even though there are plenty of other things to say, including I didn't think I would find you or even just hi.

Half of his mouth quirks up in a smile. "That was part of last year's costume. This is the real stuff," he says, gesturing vaguely at his head.

"Oh."

"You know," he says, still smiling, "I didn't think you would come."

"I thought about not attending."

"I'm glad you did."

"I think I am, too."

"Would you care to dance?"

"What, out here?" She has to admit it's appealing: there are no other party-goers under the stars, but the faint strains of music can still be heard.

She accepts his proffered hand, and just like that, they're pressed up against one another, twirling 'round and 'round the terrace until Diana's head is thrown back in an exuberant laugh. This is the feeling she was chasing, coming back here.

As the soft strains from inside signal slower music, their dancing becomes less frenetic, and soon they are swaying in place, barely moving at all.

He's staring at her openly, but she can't quite make herself meet his gaze. She's not used to this sort of instant attraction skimming through her veins, disrupting her judgement.

"I did this, once," says her dancing partner, just barely above a whisper. "One or two lifetimes ago."

"Tell me about her," Diana murmurs, because she doesn't think she can bear admitting that she has, too.

"Kind, and passionate," he says without hesitation. "Expressive eyes."

"What happened?"

"We were victims of circumstance, each bound by our own duties."

Diana is about to question him further when she feels something hit her cheek. She looks up.

It's snowing.

Big, fluffy flakes are falling gently, sticking to their clothes and hair.

Ache balloons from deep within her, pressing against her chest, her diaphragm, her breastbone, clawing to get out. She wants to scream with the sudden weight of the memories. It is too much, these human emotions; they are going to drown her.

She pushes away.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I can't—"

"What's this?"

As she pulled away, her sleeve must have slipped, revealing a watch that very much does not go with the masquerade aesthetic, one that she can't bear to take off.  

"Not part of my costume. I have to go." She's pulled out of his grasp, has turned on her heel, is halfway to the door.

"I wish we had more time!"

The words stop her dead in her tracks in a way no others could.

"What did you just say?" It comes out a little strangled. She can hear him moving behind her, but she can't turn around. It's just her mind playing tricks on her.

"I wish we had more time," he says again, firm.

There's blood rushing in her ears, and she's suddenly acutely aware of the racing thrum of her pulse. If she turns around and it isn't Steve, she's going to be crushed, gutted.

"Diana, please," his voice is soft, pleading.

Slowly, cautiously, Diana turns around. When she opens her eyes, it's him. Steve. Unmasked, and staring at her like she's hung the moon and all the stars, like she is a celestial body herself.

"I found you."

His hands come up, ever so delicately, cupping her cheek before moving into her hair. She feels the fastening of the mask give way, and then he's removing it with such care and precision that it doesn't catch on a single strand of hair.

"That's better." It's barely a whisper, nothing more than an exhale of air, but it unfreezes her.

And suddenly, she's in his arms, holding on for dear life, as he whispers soft comforts into her ear.

It's really, truly Steve.

Maybe this is her life; maybe she only gets him for a few weeks every half-century or so. She'll still take it over the alternative.

***

2020

The orchestra strikes its first note, and the man in front of her bows grandly, offering his hand.

Diana accepts it, and he pulls her into a crisp, swirling box step, his eyes shining behind this year's mask, one that only serves to amplify their already deep blue.

"It's a little cliché, don't you think?"

"Dancing with you? Never."

"Steve!" she laughs. He can be such a flatterer. "I mean being at the ball. What is the point of being at a masquerade if your identity is not actually a secret?"

"Dancing with you," Steve says again. His mask does an excellent job of obscuring his facial features, but she can still see the laughter in his eyes.

"Incorrigible!"

"You wouldn't have me any other way."

She stops their complicated step pattern, right in the middle, and he crashes into her as a result, their bodies pressed together. "No, I would not."

The rest of the dancers swirl on, but they stay there, on the margins of the floor, just swaying, more in time with each other than with the music.

*

They end up making several turns around the ballroom, laughing their way through most of it. Steve likes to be spun just as much as he enjoys spinning Diana, so they draw a few stares with their antics. As the song comes to a close, Steve dips Diana dramatically, luxuriating in her bright peal of laughter, then kisses her nose as he pulls her back up.

The music fades out, and a new, slower tune takes its place. "Do you want to sneak out and make breakfast-for-dinner at home?"

"You do realize how long I spent on this outfit?"

"Yes. So, pancakes?"

"Obviously."

They slip out of the ballroom, giggling like children, and into the cold, crisp winter air. It's not snowing this year, but there's already a layer on the ground, shiny and frozen and making the world look like a holiday card.

Steve turns and immediately makes to remove Diana's mask.

She laughs but doesn't stop him. "Every year. What is your vendetta against my masks, hmm?"

"Can't see your face." He says it so plainly, so genuinely that she can hardly tease him for it.

"Steve, that's what a mask is for." Okay, maybe she can find a little bit of something to tease him with, in her bemusement.

He brushes an escaped curl back behind her ear, gazes directly into her eyes.

"Your face is so beautifully expressive, Diana. I don't want to miss out on it."

"Steve." She ducks her head, blushing, her smile fond.

"See, right there. The crinkle around your eyes. The way you scrunched your nose. You're just proving my point."

She can't help it; she kisses him, slow and deep, right there on the pavement under a glowing street-lamp. It's languid and soft, but consuming enough that eventually they break apart, in need of air.

"I believe I was promised pancakes," Steve says, forehead still pressed against hers.

Her grin, she thinks, must be blinding, because she's so incandescently happy. "Yes, I believe you were."

They walk home, hand-in-hand.

[crewhonk]

...Of The Line (1)

A series collaboration with @nomadsgrogers where she writes for Giovanna as the reader! We’re just projecting onto our writing, its FINE

Series Summary: Steve watches YN Banner grow up before his eyes– from a shy, dorky sixteen-year-old to a fierce, brilliant woman who never fails to keep him on his toes. He knows that she’s untouchable, but that doesn’t stop him from being completely wrapped around her finger for the rest of his long life.

Series Warnings: Mutual Pining, age gap, gun use, these two are idiots– seriously they’re so dumb, slow burn, injuries

Pairings: eventual Steve Rogers X Banner!Reader, eventual Buky Barnes X OC!Stark

Chapter Summary: YN says goodbye to her best friends and watches as the events of The Winter Soldier go down. YN visits her best people in the hospital. 

Words: 4.1K

@nomadsgrogers version >> (” Till the End...”) Introduction

“... Of The Line” Masterlist

_________________

2014, two years later

Eventually, Giovanna had left to join Natasha and Steve in their work with SHEILD in Washington about a year after Natasha and Steve had initially left. They had come back for a short reprieve from work and were set off to go work to save lives again— 361 kilometres away. Giovanna had called it her first real mission as an Avenger while both YN and Tony had called it bullshit and begged her to stay. YN was never much for goodbyes— moped around for days until she found herself showered and in the lab. A bad habit that Giovanna critiqued her about.

“You really don’t have to leave, you know.” YN frowned, pulling her best friend into a hug and burying her face into her neck. Giovanna drew circles between the middle of her shoulder blades and stayed silent until YN pulled away and wiped her nose with her sleeve. Natasha joined the group of girls and pulled YN under her wing, kissing her temple and hugging her close. Nat had since bonded with the two younger women, now on the cusp of nineteen, taking them under her wing and training them when she could— watching movies and laughing long into the night when she was able.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?” Natasha’s suave, carefully selected speech patterns disappeared around the two girls— something that rarely ever happened. “I could really use a hand keeping Captain Bad Idea in line,” Natasha smirked and YN rolled her eyes and laughed, refusing to let the sudden heat blossoming on her face stop her from functioning like it usually did.

Steve Rogers had grown on her— he had become something less like a celebrity crush in 2012 to something deeper. Her adoration for the man had rooted in her lungs, constricting her breathing until it seemed she would never be able to breathe again.

Not to be dramatic.

But it was true that the two had become closer. They trained together, ate together, watched shitty 80’s movies until the crack of dawn and then crashed on separate end of the same couch together. They kept touching to a minimal— an unspoken rule between the two which only caused for a rock in the progress of relationship building. Both, as the team knew, were very needy with touch and it only seeded the idea that the other person felt no real romantic interest in the other. That, and Steve’s consistent fear of making her crumble under his hands— young and fragile and too good for him.

YN’s eyes flickered over to where Steve was chatting with Tony and Bruce softly, allowed her eyes to rake over his appearance once, very quickly and then smiled back to her girls.

“I think you’ll be fine. You got Blind Enthusiasm over there to help you.” She nodded her chin towards Giovanna who seemed affronted at her statement.

“Hey! I’m not Blind Enthusiasm. Maybe Sassy Regret.” Giovanna pulled both Natasha and YN into her arms and squeezed them both close. Their foreheads touched for a few seconds before she pulled away and let her hand rest on YN’s cheek.

“Don’t blow anything up while I’m gone,” Giovanna warned.

“It’s no fun without you.” YN winked back, finishing their classic statement goodbye— uttered mostly when one left for coffee runs or actually went to bed at a time which humans usually did.

“Wanna say goodbye to him?” Natasha’s eyes flicked over to Steve who was watching them. YN’s eyes locked with his own and she shot Steve a small smile, raising her hand and giving a shy wave. Giovanna scoffed quietly to herself, toeing the ground with her sneakers at the innocent move.

Behind closed doors, YN rarely had a filter on the topic of Steve Rogers. Hashing out everything she wanted him to do to her and everything she wanted to do to him, sometimes in such great detail even Natasha, when she was able to join, would blush. Now, in the midst of that same man, YN was reduced to a blushing, quiet sixteen-year-old version of herself.

YN was like a pit bull raised in a good family— her bark was most certainly worse than her bite.

“Nah. We already said goodbye.” YN smiled, looking away from Steve who seemed to be less than keen on doing the same. Giovanna and Natasha’s identical smirks dropped at the very same time.

“Okay, great. We’re going to have a FaceTime session tonight and you’re going to spill everything.”

“Everything?”

“Every. Single. Thing.”

______________________

The tower was lonely without the chaos that ensued during the previous three and a half years, all due to the rapidly advancing education that was YN Banner and Giovanna Stark’s life. There were no crashes from the lab on the 52nd floor, as YN was played out on the couch, uninspired and bored out of her mind at one in the morning. She had been throwing up a stress ball into the air, catching it all the while glaring at the holograms on the table in front of her. When the hologram flickered for the third time in ten seconds she growled and threw the stress ball at it, eyes flashing neon green only briefly.

“Woah! Squish, you okay?” Bruce exclaimed, walking around the table and rubbing the spot on his forehead where the ball had collided. YN muttered an apology as her dad sat down next to her, watching the diagram of a blood cell rotate in front of them.

“Been better.” She mumbled, taking the stress ball back from her father and digging her nails into it. Both Bruce and Big Guy took notice, and they were equally concerned.

“What’s goin’ on?” He tried. He was usually wonderful at this father-ing schtick but ever since he had left when she was only sixteen, she had become increasingly independent. Now almost twenty, she was a full adult and Bruce had no idea where he belonged anymore.

“I just— God. I want to think I’m a grown up. I want to think I’m independent from other people and can function without another person but I don’t think I can do that. I’ve always had you and when I didn’t I’ve always had Gio and Natasha and Steve and Tony. I’m no good alone.” YN ranted, tears welling in her eyes and Bruce could feel his heart melting and breaking both at the same time.

“You don’t have to be alone, you know. Humans are social creatures. We don’t do well alone. We’re meant to be in packs and we’re meant to have those social bonds. Independence for us in the wild usually means death— in modern times it just sometimes means everything short of that.” Bruce hummed and he wrapped his arm around his baby girls shoulders. She sniffed into his neck and wiped tears away from her eyes.

“But Gio’s independent. So are Steve and Natasha and I don’t get why I can’t be like that.” Her voice was thick as she spoke.

“Because you’re you. You don’t have to be like them. There’s no shame in leaning on people, you know.” He mumbled and Big Guy seemed to agree, chest rumbling in agreement. There was as silence before YN’s quiet voice rang out loud and clear.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, right, Papa?”

Bruce’s heart skipped a beat and he pulled her closer, squishing her to his chest and blinking back tears.

“I’ll stay right here just as long as you want me to, okay?”

“Okay.”

Another Pause.

“Wanna help me try to figure out our blood?”

____________________

It was a week before ‘Tonights’ FaceTime could take place, as both Natasha and Giovanna had been swept up in the life and work of SHEILD. It was seven at night when YN’s phone rang by her side, laptop on her lap in bed playing “The 100”. The phone chimed, and YN in all of her excitement nearly launched her computer from her legs in her hurry to answer it.

“Hi!” She said excitedly, shutting her laptop and pulling her covers closer to her chest. On her screen were her best friends, faces squished together and smiling so widely. The flush on Giovanna’s cheeks was a telltale sign they were at least a glass and a half into their wine.

“Baby girl!” Giovanna almost squealed, and YN’s heart clenched. Oh, how she had missed the Stark energy because sure, Tony had it all but there was nothing like seeing it in jammed into a 5’3 Italian firecracker of a girl.

“How’s Washington? Oh my gosh, have you met Obama yet? What about Michelle? Are her arms as magnificent as they look in pictures?” YN rushed, and the two girls laughed.

“Washington is good! It’s too vanilla for my taste.” Giovanna replied and Natasha said something about how it was because the sewer rats were the closest things she ever got to owning a pet.

“No, we haven’t met any of the Obama’s either.” Natasha quelled YN’s thirst for the First Family and YN sat back in mock disappointment.

“Well, then what’re you even doing there?” The others laughed at her response before they both lost their excited exterior. It would never fail to impress YN how in sync Giovanna and Natasha were at almost all times.

“So, don’t think we forgot, little lamb.” Natasha chastised and YN rolled her eyes, before getting up and grabbing a bottle of wine from her wine cooler hidden in the back of her closet. No way was she explaining her and Steve’s goodbye while sober. No, ma’am.

She raised the bottle to her lips and wiped her hand across her mouth.

“What d’you wanna know?” YN resigned herself to what she could picture as hours worth of interrogation.

“Everything.”

____________________

It was the night before the team was about to leave for Washington. Giovanna had already left the common room under the guise of packing, allowing for Steve and YN to have a few hours to themselves under the glow of the city lights streaming through the windows and the television.

Steve could feel his hands clamming up. Sure, he had been alone with YN countless times before, but it was only on his visit back did he notice that YN had grown up. Long gone were her puberty curves. There was that same trademark Banner softness to her, but he didn’t miss the way that her shirt clung to rigid muscle when she was straining herself in the gym. He didn’t miss the lines of her calf and thigh muscles whenever she wore those tight black shorts that made his head spin. He didn’t miss the curl of her wild hair or how her eyes seemed to droop in a way that made his heart stutter whenever she looked at him.

He had been alone with YN before, countless times. She never failed to make him feel like a 16-year-old kid in Brooklyn, though.

“You know, I’m really gonna miss nights like these.” She said, curling into the cushion of the couch and pulling her blanket to her chin— comfort habit, he had learned.

“Whatd’ya mean?” He asked, suddenly not at all interested in the movie playing in front of them. He knew this was an iconic 90’s movie but he couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t involve YN.

“You and me all curled up. I mean, come on. Showing movies to Captain America for the first time?” She giggled sleepily at his eye roll.

“As if I care about it, honestly.” He mirrored her position, facing her and leaning on the back of the couch.

“Why don’t you care about it? Clueless is one of the best movies out there.” YN tried to sound offended, but she couldn’t find it in herself to sound anything but nervous and breathy. Steve’s eyes were drooping, fighting hard to stay awake and watching her with a softness he rarely showed anyone. In some wild, delusional state, she could almost believe what Giovanna and Natasha told her— that he could come to love someone like her.

“Not my type.” He muttered, forcing himself to keep his hands from reaching out and placing them on her bare arms. God, all he wanted to do was run the back of his knuckles over her skin. Wanted to make goosebumps erupt all over her body. Wanted to make her suck in a breath and look at him through those innocent, peering eyes.

Steve kept his hands to himself.

“What is your type?” She whispered, and his heart climbed violently up his throat. He coughed once to get it back to where it belonged and when that didn’t work, he pulled away farther from her. He couldn’t— she was too young and good and pure and everything he would ruin.

He wouldn’t ruin YN Banner.

“We should get you to bed, okay, Sugar?” He said, glancing absently at the time before rising slowly to his feet. He wanted nothing more than to curl up against her, soak her in enough for him to survive the next few months away. He stopped himself, however, filling his arms with blankets and pillows and waiting for her to stand and join him.

She almost looked disappointed he didn’t help her. Definitely looked disappointed he was ending the night.

She only nodded, however, and wrapped her blanket around her shoulders like a cape, following him to the elevator in silence and riding up in silence. Only speaking again when they reached her floor. She stepped out, turning around and placing her hand on the door so it wouldn’t close on her. She was quiet for a time, trying her very best to memorize the way blue skin had found a home in the inner corners of his eyes. How the left side of his nose was just a little crooked. Remember the cleft of his chin and the swell of his bottom lip. She sniffed and nodded and stepped back.

“I’ll miss you, grandpa. Don’t know who I’ll make old people jokes about anymore.” She forced a playful smile over her tired face and he mirrored it.

They were both so close, but so, so far away.

“I’ll miss you, Sweetheart. Don’t know who’s gonna make you get to bed in time for your afternoon nap.”

“Guess you’ll have to come back soon, then.”

Then, the elevator door slid shut with a quiet ‘ding’.

______________________

YN had thought them to be dead. Nick, Steve, Natasha, and Giovanna killed in a gun battle in the middle of Washington. She had thought them dead until she got the call. It was Tony who called, half out of his mind with worry but voice dripping with relief.

“They’re alive, YN. News— look at the news.” She listened to her uncle, ran down the hall of her floor to the common room with television in it and flicked on the channel. Sure, Tony may have been only five floors away, but she was suddenly very familiar with the feeling of her legs and arms and heart going numb.

The flashing red at the bottom screen told her this was live. Large hellicarriers armed to the teeth were falling on Washington, a collection of live footage from the news crews and videos from Twitter streaming on the screen, and YN cried out when a rather shaky video caught sight of Giovanna, fighting, yelling, bleeding through her uniform but alive. YN let out a dry sob and leaned forward on her knees, putting her head in her hands and crying into them despite the lack of tears streaming from her eyes.

Then, when she looked back, she saw him. Angry, and scared and like Giovanna, bleeding but very much alive. He looked to be running— chasing after someone who was singlehandedly taking out an entire SHEILD battalion.

She didn’t care. Her guys were alive.

________________________

The quinjet ride to Washington was only half an hour, but both YN and Tony could have sworn it would have been easier to walk themselves. The jet landed on the roof of the hospital and she sprinted side by side with Tony down the stairs, bursting through the doors of the VIP section the hospital had closed off.

Large men in combat greens were lining the hallways, guns on their shoulders and there was an eerie silence in the hallway.

“Ms. Stark is in room 567, Captain Rogers is in the room next to her— 569.” The nurse, nervous and excited at the sight of the Tony Stark in her own hospital making her voice higher than usual.

“I need— I’m sorry.” He whispered once they got to the rooms and YN rolled her eyes, pushing him towards his daughters' room.

“Go, we got all day. I’m gonna go see Steve.” YN tried to ignore the way Tony’s worried eyes gave away to something almost teasing, and she turned around to the room 569, knocking on the ajar door and smiling at the man in the room.

He was sitting next to an unconscious Steve. His dark skin and dark eyes stunned her— a man of genuine beauty was protecting Steve. He looked at her, eyes intense and guarding.

“Who’re you?” His voice was suave and the gap in his teeth was charming. YN tried to fight back the urge to walk over and tell him just who she was— he obviously cared much for Steve. The bags under his eyes and the stains on his shirt were dead giveaways that he hadn’t left the hospital in a few days.

“YN Banner. Who are you?” Her voice was strong, and her gaze landed on Steve who looked very much worse for wear. A large gash that was deep enough to require stitches extended from the corner of his mouth to his earlobe, a black and green and red bruise on his opposite cheek let her know that the bone underneath his skin must have been completely shattered. The hospital gown he was wearing was pulled to the side to show more blossoming bruises and YN coughed, trying to rid her throat of the sudden lump that had taken root there.

The man made a noise of surprise and joy, a wide smile blossoming over his face before he stood and extended a hand.

“Sam Wilson. Wow, the famous YN Banner. Steve and Giovanna never shut up about you this whole week, it’s nice to put a face to the name. Nice to meet you, Steve’s girlfriend, YN Banner.” He smirked and his smile grew at the way she spluttered in surprise.

“I’m— we’re not— I’m not—“ She rushed, cheeks flaming to the tips of her ears. Sam laughed and stepped closer, moving to walk by her and out of the room, knowing she would want some alone time.

“He said the same thing when Gio and Natasha called him your boyfriend. Got more red, though.” And with that, and a clap on the shoulder, Sam walked out of the room.

YN’s gaze drifted back to Steve, and she pressed the backs of her cold hands to her face to try to quell the blush that seemed to have found a home there. She walked over to his side, pulling a chair to his bedside and reaching out, hesitating only slightly before wrapping both of her hands around his much larger one. The knuckles were bruised and bloody, clean stitches already looking to have been removed and she rested her cheek on them, looking at Steve’s face.

It was only a half an hour before his hand twitched in hers, and he grunted at the pain he felt immediately upon waking. He cracked his eyes open slowly, crusted closed with tears and other sleep residue and felt someone's hands tighten around his own.

YN was there, eyes tired but relieved and Steve’s heart rate monitor picked up when she smiled at him, softly.

“Hey,” She whispered over the music from the speaker Sam had brought in. Her tightened her grip on his hands and rested her lips on his fingers— not kissing them, but resting there and Steve cursed the machine beeping continuously and irregularly beside him.

“Hi,” His voice was raspy from the fight and smoke and water they had to pump from his lungs and the breathing tube from the surgeries he had received.

“Whose idea was it to take down SHIELD?” She asked, corners of her lips turning up. She already knew the answer, but it would be nice to have the opportunity to make fun of the man in front of her.

“Gio’s?” He tried and YN laughed against his hand, breath drifting over his knuckles and making the pink of blush creep up his neck. God, how the hell did someone as good as her make him so unbearably nervous. She had gotten even more beautiful in the four months they hadn’t seen each other.

“Nice try, Captain Bad Idea.” YN teased, and she pulled one hand from his grip to brush the back of her fingers against his forehead and his eyes fluttered shut briefly at her touch. To anyone looking into the room, they looked like a couple— two people so in love and so worried for each other, and both Steve and YN knew this, neither too keen on ruining the illusion. They only wanted to stay in this little moment for a few minutes longer— for as long as it took for reality to pull them away from each other once more.

____________________

Soon, Tony interrupted their moment outside of reality, needing to discuss and make plans for the future of the team and whoever remained of SHEILD.

“I’ll be back. Can you eat anything yet?”

“I think so,” His voice was quiet and he really, truly, desperately didn’t want you to leave— didn’t want to let you go already.

“Okay, I’ll find something good.” YN stood, squeezing his hand once before pulling away slowly and Tony raised an eyebrow at the way Steve almost seemed to reach after it, wanting her to come back so soon.

YN didn’t hear the way Tony teased Steve, comments of ‘gramps’ and ‘you know she’s too smart for you, right?’ Followed quickly by Steve telling him to shove it somewhere the sun didn’t shine. Instead, she walked over to the next room and didn’t even bother knocking before walking in and crossing her arms, glaring at her best friend who looked a little worse for wear.

“You look like shit, babe,” Giovanna said with a wicked grin.

“You’re one to talk. Really? Taking down secret government Nazi’s? Without me? How dare you.” YN dropped her stern act and padded over to Giovanna’s bed, lifting the blankets and curling under them, resting her head on her best friends shoulder.

“Sorry about that.” Giovanna shifted slightly and moved to face YN, glad she had chosen to invade her bed on this side, as she didn’t need to lay on the stab wound she had received only hours before.

“I told you not to die.” YN chastised lightly, and Giovanna patted her shoulder.

“I didn’t— I just got stabbed lightly by sex on legs.” She said and YN looked at her sharply.

“Excuse me?”

And then, Giovanna launched into a story of a man-- the Winter Soldier-- dressed in all black, hair hanging around his face which was, apparently, sculpted by Hades himself.

“And the best part,” Giovanna continued, pausing for dramatic effect. “It was Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes!”

YN’s heart dropped to her stomach and she could feel the blood leave her face.

“What? Steve didn’t say anything about— oh, my God.” YN whispered, and she barely had time to even worry about Steve before Giovanna made a noise in the back of her throat.

“Oh, so you saw your favourite Beefcake before your best friend?” Giovanna teased, relishing in the way YN looked as if she wished the ground would swallow her whole.

“I— you were— Tony needed to see you.” YN stuttered and Giovanna rolled her eyes, squeezing YN closer to her. God, she missed her bumbling, pining, lovestruck best friend.

“Suuuure.”

______________________________

Tags (open, send an ask): @i-am-always-famished / @filia-sapientiae / @somekryptonitewriting / @fashionlive15 / @godlymissbalor / @fanfictionjunkie1112 / @nerdy-bookworm-1998 / @songforhema / @army-crawl-andersen / @buckybarneshairpullingkink / @shynara51

[khalessi34]

Words on paper

Pairings: Avengers! x Reader! (Writer) 

Warnings: A bit of angst but good ending! 

Summary: After living so long with the Avengers the reader somehow stumbles upon Fanfic about them and becomes obsessed. You become determined to end up writing the greatest fic of all time by studying your friends and asking them to do random things! 

Somehow up above some god had decided to bestow on you some wonderful gift as you randomly searched the web to get your mind off of things. It was a beautiful moment when you stumbled upon it, Fanfic, the worlds greatest weapon of all time. It felt like you were seeing your friends for the first time in a new light, how could they ever react to this? 

The Avengers, all of them with secret fan bases around the world and it could not have been more perfect for you. Yet somehow you struggled to shake the fact they weren’t actually there and these were just stories made by some incredible writer taking time off their day to bring you such good words. 

“How daRE YOU!” Steve suddenly jumped from the table watching as tears ran down your face and worry shot through him like lighting. 

“(y/n) What's wrong? Did something happen?” He tried consoling you but you only shook your head crying even harder as you fell to your knees, “Tell me what's wrong? Please?” 

“How could you break the reader's heart like that?!” His face suddenly lost all worry and instead, only a blank look washed over his features. 

“W-What?” 

“You despicable man! How dare you choose that other women over the reader?! Can’t you see they have been there for you since you were a child and somehow they gained immortality to be with you but you decide to--” He didn’t listen anymore, he just walked away. 

Tony scruffed his beard lightly trying to figure out what to fix in his equation when the door to his lab burst open and you came charging in shedding tears everywhere. 

“OH GOD TONY I AM SO SORRY YOU POOR BROKEN MAN OH GOD I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR YOU PLEASE DO NOT DRINK YOURSELF AWAY OH GOD TONY I AM SO SORRY!” He stumbled back holding you in his arms and you sobbed uncontrollably for the third time this day, it was getting out of hand, literally. 

“Bucky you idiot!” The super soldier felt the weight of something fly toward the back of his head propelling him forward, luckily with quick reflexes, he stopped before he smashed his head against the wall, “Your job as a bodyguard doesn’t matter! You have to tell the reader how you feel about her even as death stares both of you in the face and the evil politician is trying to kill her!” 

“I-I don’t understand? Is this a thing you young kids are into?” Sam shrugged his shoulders taking a spoonful of cereal but you weren’t done yet. 

“You! Sam Wilson! You deserve the world!” 

“Hell yeah, I do!” He nodded pursing his lips and continuing to shove cereal into his mouth smirking slightly at the soldier who watched with nervous eyes. 

“I didn’t know I was a bodyguard?” 

“Clint! Clint! Clint!” The Archer stiffened entirely snapping the bow on his hand before he was enveloped in a hug from behind him. 

“Wha--” 

“You don’t have to live in the vents all the time okay? I can share my bed if you need it buddy just tell me when you want it.” 

You stood a few feet away, watching him, studying him as he sat there conversing, you didn’t know if your theory would be correct but you wanted to know. You needed to know.  

“Thor?” 

“Yes (y/n)?” You stood timidly by the side holding the box of pop tarts before taking one out and holding it out to him, “Is this food?” 

“Yes, now please, eat it and tell me how it tastes.” Once he took a bite you had snagged that photo and posted it online, it broke the internet. 

It took months but finally, you were ready, you had read so many fanfics and cried and laughed that you knew it had come down to this. To the day you finally realized you wanted to write the greatest fanfic of all time. So you set out to do some research, of course, you had lived with the Avengers for as long as you can remember but after reading those stories some of the writers had actually painted accurate representations of some of your friends. For example, the fact that Steve did show a couple signs of PTS and that Tony buried himself in his work when he was bothered but after reading what could be going through their minds shook you to the core. 

“Bucky?” You called out watching him turn to face you, “Can you stand there for a second?” He furrowed his brows but complied with your request, out of all of the Avengers living in the compound he had grown a soft spot for you. 

“What’s this for (y/n)?” Bucky watched you bring out a notepad and pen beginning to scribble furiously until you were chest to chest with him, “(y/n?” 

His body stiffened feeling you grip his hands and placing them on your waist, there was a second where he couldn’t breathe, what’s happening? You scribbled even more before shifting out of his hands and bringing out a...measuring tape? 

“Oooooooo, this is good.” You began to mumble ignoring the incredulous look the soldier gave you, “I wonder what it would feel like around my neck?” 

“No,” The brown haired man shook his head before sprinting out of the common room leaving you with a slight frown on your features. 

“Darn, oh wait! Bruce! Bruce! How does Hulk feel when you have sex?!” 

“Steve, can you please do this for me?” 

“No, stop asking.” 

“Please just this once and I won’t bother you again.” 

“How about no.” 

“Come on don’t be like that!” 

“Fine hurry up.” 

“Yay!” You hurried out of his room coming back with the silly clothes for him to wear, you allowed him a couple minutes to himself before barging inside. 

There he stood, wearing a suit and tie dressed like a businessman, he even had the fake square glasses and watch (Courtesy of Tony Stark) to make it seem like he was a rich person. 

“Oh my god, it's like God’s have blessed my eyes.” Steve shifted uncomfortably for a second waving his hands around. 

“Are you ready or not?” You gave him a devilish smile, something he has somehow come to fear after what Bucky had said you had made Sam do, apparently you thought it would be a good idea for the winged man to wrap his legs around the soldiers and fly into the air. Bucky landed face first in front of the compound and had a nose bleed for two hours straight, “Oh, no.” 

“It’s finished!” You yelled at the top of your lungs throwing a stack of paper onto the table startling most of the Avengers, “I have finished my greatest creation yet!” 

“Is it what you’ve been working on for the past three months?” Natasha cocked her head to the side eyeing the stack with a wary expression, she would rather face 100 bad guys than going what you put her through. 

“Yes! and I will publish it tonight! I’m so excited I can’t wait for people to read this I worked so hard for this!” Everyone was a bit cranky at your random research but seeing the huge smile and bright sparkle in your eyes was actually worth all the trouble. 

“I’m sure it’ll be great, kid.” Tony took a sip of his coffee leaning back in his chair as everyone began to shower you with admiration. 

3 weeks later

“How long have they been in their room?” Sam stood outside your door with Bucky beside him glancing at the piece of metal with concern. 

“A couple days, won’t even come out and eat.” 

“Oh no, you guys this is bad.” Natasha called everyone as they circled the hologram of your story, comments and bad reviews that would go on for days, “Their story blew up but not in the way they wanted it,” 

Anonymous: Wow you don’t even know the characters to be writing about them! #fakefan

Anonymous: Honestly, it’s not that bad but it seems way too unrealistic for me, sorry not sorry. 

Anonymous: Yeah, this story needs a lot more improvement, you should try and look for a different hobby lol 

“Bastards, they’re all anonymous, those cowards,” Sam growled darkly shoving his chair back in anger, “Don’t they know they worked hard for that story?” 

“Guys, this is the internet we are talking about, they are trolls there's nothing we can do about this.” Steve stood up trying to talk some sense into his friend but deep down he wanted nothing more than to track those trolls down and beat them to a pulp. 

“I have an idea.” Tony chimed up from his desk glancing at the shut door where you were covered in blankets crying your heart out. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, you stumbled out of your room in the need for some food or something tasty. It had been a couple days since the utter failure of your story and you had decided to give up on such random hobbies but you loved writing it became your passion after reading so much. You believed that you were getting good and that your story would be okay but the world didn’t take it like that. 

“(Y/N)?” You gave out a shriek stumbling backward until your eyes landed on your friends, they all looked tired with dark bags under their eyes and a pang of guilt hit you in the chest. 

“What’s going on? Are you guys okay?” As you came around from the kitchen your eyes landed on stacks of papers, many of them all over the large table, “What is this?” 

“I know it might not be as good as yours,” Steve began talking before giving you a smirk. 

“And we didn’t do a ton of research since we didn’t have time,” Tony stifled a yawn placing a hand on his stack of papers and patting it. 

“We decided to write stories about you,” Sam smiled at you watching as tears began to form in your eyes as you realized what this was. 

“You’re important to us (y/n) so we wanted to show you that your story meant so much to us.” Clint threw his arm over Natasha who nodded at you waiting for the rest of the team to continue their own comments. 

“Yeah (n/n), you may think of us as your heroes but to us, you’re our hero.” Bucky walked forward placing his hand on your shoulder and squeezing tightly. 

“No matter what people say you are worthy,” Thor appeared from the shadows holding onto a large stack of paper in his arms and giving you that smile. 

“You’re family now and always,” Bruce carried his own stack as well and you let the tears flow, you realized that no matter what those trolls said they still loved your story. 

And as you cried into their arms that night reading as many of the papers as you could you realized that they loved you as much as you loved them even after you made them do crazy things. Family is family. 

[superloves4]

Starlight Comics - Dick Grayson x Reader - Part 4

Summary:  Dick and Starlight learn about birds.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Issue 4 - Little Birds

It had been two weeks since she came to the mansion, two weeks since she discovered the world around her, sometimes she was still scared but for the most part it simply fascinated her.

And two weeks was what it took for her to actually sleep in her room.

She had been deprived of the sky for so long that it just seemed such a waste to stay inside.

Dick would join her now and then when the night was slow and they would talk about everything. About his life in the circus to his life as Robin.

He always had that enthusiastic expression when he talked, occasionally she would just sit and look as he explained new things she didn’t know about, not really listening, just appreciating that someone would want to stay by her side.

He would tell about his night, about the bad guys that never saw him coming, that always made her laugh, she would watch him practice in the cave, the idea that others didn’t know about his abilities was difficult to imagine. Then again, the paparazzi, as Dick called them, couldn’t even imagine who really was Bruce Wyne adopted daughter.

She didn’t mind and Dick was by her side as their light blinded her when they got out of that first dinner, her presentation to world, she smiled and said what was expected of her, the boy by her side helping her through her first steps and when it was over they flew to the roof and made fun of the pretentious people they met.

She liked being around Dick, he always made her smile, Alfred was kind and would help her when she needed, even Bruce was different from what she thought when she arrived. He had become familiar and once she learned about him she knew.

She was no longer alone.

The more she discovered, the more they showed her, the more she felt safe.

And that was why she decided to finally enter that safety.

__________________________

Somehow, this is not what I expected she thought before screaming at the pair of blue eyes smiling right in front of her.

I should’ve seen this coming Dick thought as he lifted himself from the ground after she sent him flying.

While she had good control of her powers, her emotions could still take over like that first time and she’d use them without realizing it.

“You scared me!” she shouted at him.

“Sorry” he smiled sheepishly hoping she wasn’t too mad at him, he just knew she would like what he wanted to show her.

She sighed and offered her hand to help him.

“So, what made you wake me up at,” she looked at him, still in his Robin costume, and then the clock by the side of the bed “six in the morning?”

His smile widening at her confusion, Dick took her hand and led her to the window.

“Could you fly us to that tree?”

She looked at where he was pointing, still unsure of what the raven head wanted, and opened the window. The tree in question was not very far from her room so it was fairly easy to arrive.

She left Dick in one of the sturdier branches, he signed her to be silent and she obliged, following his climb to a higher branch where he stopped and looked back at her, a shining smile. When she looked closer, she discovered what he wanted her to see.

A nest of birds.

Her eyes widened in surprise, there were five in total, still babies.

“Do you like it? Am I forgiven?” he joked but glad to see her eyes shining at the sight of the chicks.

“It’s incredible Dick!” she turned to him smiling but added worried “Where are their parents?”

He let a small chuckle, he didn’t want to disturb the chicks “They are close, in a bit, they will be back with food”

She sighed and Dick observed her as she looked at the little birds again.

“What are them?” worried she said it wrong she added “Type I mean”

He smiled, waiting for her reaction he answered “They are robins”

As he imagined, she looked back at him confused, he didn’t imagine she knew much about birds, only that there were different ones, until this moment she probably just imagined Robin was a second name or something.

“So, uhm, you…” she tried to make sense of it in her head, Dick thought it was kind of cute.

“I’m a little bird too.”

Dick was joking but when she couldn’t help but laugh softly at that he felt proud.

“Do you know more?” she asked hopeful and Dick thought for a bit before remembering.

“In the library! There is a book about birds there, I saw it once when I was doing homework”

All Alfred saw was two blurs and their laughter as they ran inside.

_______________________________________

“The Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, nicknamed The Little Mockingbird” Dick read and pointed at the picture of, as its name suggested, a gray blueish tiny bird with a long tail.

By his side, she continued reading “A pair of Blue-gray Gnatcatcher can build up to seven nests in a breeding season”

“What is a breeding season?”

“Look!” instead of answering Dick pointed at another bird “It’s a Blue Jay”

The one he showed her now was a larger bird, it said it was a songbird, it was blue too but much more visible than the other, with black and white across its plumage.

“Known for their intelligence and complex social systems with tight family bonds” she smiled and Dick observed her as she turned the page.

This one was another songbird, it was darker and iridescent with white streaks on their wings.

“European Starling, the birds were intentionally introduced by a group that wanted America to have all the birds that Shakespeare ever mentioned” she frowned and turned to Dick “Who is Shakespeare?”

The boy laughed “Alfred will love to tell you all about that”

She smiled at that when the picture of another bird caught her eye.

“Anna’s Hummingbird” Dick read for her as he noticed her looking.

The bird was iridescent with feathers the color of emeralds and sparkling pink throats, she had never seen a bird like that, and it was beautiful.

“Colibrì in Spanish”

He continued and she smiled, side by side they spent the rest of the day reading, just happy being together.

__________________________________________________

Notes: Wow, this took longer than I expected for a transitioning chapter, uff!

Not really much to say today, next chapter will probably have more and Starlight will become a hero herself!

Also, I don't know anything about the american robin but I did research the others, so there's that.

Question: Does the "she" bothers? I never wrote in the second person so third just comes more naturally, but if it's bothering it would be a good learning experience, if "she" works just fine then great!p.s: Just realized that I called Detective Comics an old-timey comic despite the fact that it's still in publication, which is even weirder when I think that I have read Detective Comics........oh well!

[scientifically-strange]

What’s it Like?

Trying something a little new. Instead of third person it’s straight from Danny’s pov

------------------------

What’s it like? 

I always find myself getting asked this, whether it be from Tucker, Dani, Sam, or hell, even Valerie sometimes. And while it doesn't upset me, the question itself is hard to answer, and is tiring to do so after having to do it so many times. 

So what is it like living with the Avengers?

It’s indescribable, really. It’s fun, and annoying, and stressful, and happy, and so many other words, so I think the only way I can properly tell you is if I list them all off one by one. 

Well, let me tell you.

First, I guess I should start with the host himself, Tony Stark. Though you probably know him better as Iron Man. 

He’s everything people say he is, and more. He’s selfish and sarcastic, and is stupidly smart. Yeah, he’s also a playboy, and he never focuses on the important stuff for his company. Instead he pays with desk toys in important meetings. 

Like all of us, Tony has a lot of baggage. We all have our demons, but Tony’s are arguably the worst. Yeah, I fought my older evil self and the ghost king, and Steve was in World War II, but compared to Tony it was a cakewalk. Because Tony’s been through a fucking blender. He’s got serious PTSD from the Incident, from the cave he was tortured in, and a few other things. He copes by drinking unhealthy amounts of coffee spiked with alcohol and monster energy drinks while building several more Iron man armors, all with their own special skills and weapons. 

He also has really bad attachment issues due to his father was never really around, and the father figure he did had tried to kill him. So. 

However, despite all of that, Tony is probably the most caring person on the team. And that’s including Steve. He just doesn’t know how to express it with emotions. So instead, he uses his actions. Thor mentioned one time that he needed to get more lavender (?) shampoo because he ran out, and now there’s a cabinet full of them, just for the thunder god himself.  

There was another time when Clint’s hearing aids got blown up on a mission, and Tony made him everything-proof Stark hearing aids. Clint hasn’t needed a new pair since. And he made Steve and Sam’s rooms soundproof, so that when fireworks go off they can still enjoy the view, but now with less gunshot sounds. 

Tony also really loves to nerd out, which brings me to my next friend, Dr. Bruce Banner. He’s pretty soft spoken, until he starts talking about science. I remember the longest conversation I’ve had with him was when we were talking about space and NASA, which somehow ended up on a conversation of the horrible structure of hot dog buns? Not really sure what happened there...

Bruce always has great advice, and is always in like, a zen sort of mood. He’s not nervous all the time like most people think. No, he’s only fidgety around stressful people, like Fury or Ultron. Which is perfectly understandable considering if he gets to angry or freaked he starts looking a little green around the gills.

That being said, Bruce also makes the best tea on the Compound. Nobody knows what he does to it, but if you’re having a rough day or something he’s got your back. And he’s always got Tony’s back, too. I There was one time when Tony had been up for almost four days and Bruce had come in and put some headphones on Tony, and he passed out immediately. I helped him get Tony to his room, and Bruce kind of took it from there. 

Hulk is pretty nice to. Though, to be fair the first time I met him he was pretty pissed because he couldn’t hit me. But after he calmed down enough, I told him a couple of jokes and he kind of warmed up to me. 

And I told him I could help get the glitter out of his hair.

He still doesn’t know that it sparkles sometimes when crime-fighting. Nobody else has either, but that’s only because they’re to busy kicking ass themselves. 

Steve is kind of like everybody’s dream guy, even if you yourself are a straight guy. He is 240 pounds of All-American beefcake with a heart of gold. His hair is pretty soft too. 

He’s caring, but I’ve recently learned that he;s a little shit. 

You would expect Captain America to be the perfect man, soldier, superhero, whatever. But he isn’t. I don’t even know where anybody got that idea. 

This guy has a police record that’s longer than a list of Mr. Lancer’s book-swears. And he has the worst mouth on him. He stubbed his toe the other day and was cursing up a storm. However, he was cursing in Gaelic. I asked him about it and he said it was his first language due to his parents being Irish immigrants. I hadn't known that before, so that was really nice to know. But it also explained his accent. He had a lot of Brooklyn in it, but every now and then the Gaelic would slip through with it, making for a weird verbal cocktail that never sounded quite right. 

He also has the worst mind out of all of us. It’s worse than Tuckers. His mind may be the gutter, but Steve’s is the fucking sewer. He was telling me about how he thought fondue equaled sexy times, and like? Literally, where did you make that connection? How many other foreign words has he heard and thought it was something sexual? 

It shouldn’t surprise me though, considering he was in the army. 

I could go on and on about Steve’s mouth and reckless behavior, but he, like Tony, has serious PTSD. A lot of it is from the war. He doesn’t like fireworks or loud, sudden noises unless he’s on the battlefield. There was one time I saw him mute a movie during a scene with a train, and I was going to ask him why, but then I saw that far away look in his eyes. It wasn’t my place to pry. 

There’s also something about the sound of Tony’s repulsors powering up, too. It makes Steve tense up like a cat every time he hears it. 

His coping methods are a bit healthier than Tony’s. He likes to draw his thoughts and feelings out. He’s damn good at it to, and while that’s a great thing, sometimes he falls asleep with them open, halfway done, and the shit he draws is so dark and depressing. I kind of worry about him sometimes. 

But Sam’s been helping him though a lot of it. He was stationed overseas for a while before coming back to the states, only to get caught up in the fight again a few years later. He didn’t really seem to mind though. In fact, he seemed happy to do so. Whether or not that was from Captain America asking him to, or because he missed flying, I had no idea. 

But I’ll be damned if I ever go to the park with him again. 

His name is Falcon. He has cool metal wings he uses to fly. That all makes sense, right?

So how the fuck is he talking to pigeons?

I am genuinely worried that one day Sam till take over the world with birds, and h will have them shit on people’s cars and peck out the eyes of Hydra. Or something on the lines of that. However, if he is actually going to do that I think he needs a cooler bird. 

Like a Falcon. 

And as weird as that was, it doesn’t match up to the awkwardness of meeting Natasha “Million Alias” Romanoff. She’s as deadly as she is beautiful, and if I was into her in any way I would probably pay her to beat me up.

It never actually occurred to me that she’s not always being a spy? I mean, yeah, she’s always looking at the ulterior motive, because anyone with her background (which we will not speak of, so don;t even ask) would do the same. But she’s also a shitposting meme generator and has a really popular vine account even though vine is dead? Then again this is Natasha we’re talking about. I don;t wanna know how she does what she does. 

She also steals clothes. SO far she’s stolen one of Tony’s hoodies, a pair of Clint’s sweatpants, a scrunchie from Thor, and one of my old Dumpty Humpty shirts I got at a concert. She also cheats at Monopoly and Cards Against Humanity. I haven’t figured out how she’s done it, but I know she does. Nobody, and I mean nobody, can just fucking win seventeen times in a row. You;d have to be a mind reader to do that shit. Jesus. 

She’s terrifying, and honestly, every time I see her glare the fear of Thor runs through me, but a good portion of that goes away when she’s around Clint. And honestly> I can’t blame her. Clint, out of all of the Avengers I live with, is probably the one I hang out with the most. He’s super chill, and covered head to toe in bandages and has to have an entire pot of coffee just to stay awake. Also, he’s deaf? I had no idea during the Battle of New York, but later I found out that it was because they had broken and his new ones hadn’t come in yet. He’s taught me a lot of sign language so far, and Tucker makes fun of me for practicing it when I’m back in Amity. 

Clint also has a lot of nests. 

He has one on top of the fridge, in the A that’s on the outside of the building, a couple of key spots in the vents, and a board room on the 27th floor under the table because nobody ever uses it and it has a nice view of the sandwich shop right across the street. I’m sure he has more, but those are just the ones that I’ve found. 

Also, his dog is not cuter than Cujo, don’t listen to that asshole. 

Even though Clint chooses to keep his hearing aids out half the time, he still knows when Thor has come back from Asgard. Every single time, no matter where we’re at in the building, he just knows. It’s like a sixth sense. His head perks up, and he gets a dumb grin on his face, but then it quickly falls when he remembers that he ate the rest of the thunder god’s poptarts. 

Thor is really fun to be around. And while I haven’t had a lot of quality bonding time with the dude, Dani has. They sit around and braid each other’s hair all the time, talking about flowers and giant monsters and space. Really, they’re best friends. And it’s adorable.

Don’t tell Jazz I said that.

There are aspects of Thor that remind me a little bit of all of the Avengers. Like Natasha, he can be cunning when he wants to. He’s always got the munchies like Clint, and has great advice like Bruce. Similar to Tony he also struggles with his own demons. But he seems to be most like Steve.

That being said, they are both huge little shits. 

See, Thor likes to prank people. Half the time he uses Mojo (I don;t know how to pronounce the hammer’s name, okay) to fuck with us. I remember he and Natasha handing different house members his hammer while Natasha video taped it. He gets a huge kick out of watching us fall over. I remember when he did it to Steve, who was to zoned out in his paper to even realize what Thor had asked him to hold. He was gobsmacked for a whole week. 

He hasn’t done it to me yet, and I have no idea if that’s because he hasn’t gotten around to it or because he’s still obsessed over me technically being royalty since I beat Pariah Dark, the former king. The first time we met he got down on one knee and bowed. It was the most surreal experience of my life, and that’s including when Tucker had to wear a chicken costume to a Dumpty Humpty concert because he lost a bet to Sam. 

Every time he comes back from Asgard, we shake. But we don’t shake like normal people. It’s a sort of cultural thing. Instead of shaking hands we grip each other’s forearms and squeeze. I kind of like doing that better than a handshake. It seems way cooler. 

So, you ask me what it’s like to live with the Avengers?

Living with them, it feels familiar, like it;s the one thing I’ve been missing my whole life. 

It’s family. 

---------

Also, OC week submissions are open officially if you want me to write them in with a DP and marvel!

[writingconceptsandstupidshit]

Welcome to insanity  concepts #2

Roxi grumbled into her pillow as her father, Kumo, called her and her siblings down for breakfast. As she got up a pair of feet whacked her in the face from the top bunk. She whined and then made a sarcastic reply “Morning to you too punkass”. Both Rix and Roxi head downstairs, Rix walking slower than he usually did, complaining about how he didn’t want to go to school. Lide, the third wheel of the three, just laughed and kept telling him that he had to go.

“Rix you can’t skip school forever.”

“Fuck it. I’m gonna work at Mcdonald’s anyways, I’m not going.”

This went on for several minutes until Roxi had enough (and had finished her Rixito’s)  

“Rix, you’re going to school, and Lide stop laughing at your siblings.” Kumo interrupted before Roxi said something she regretted. The three teens were silenced and just got up to leave, Rix and Roxi butting eachother in the sides as they walked.

Rix put his hoodie over his face, and before Roxi or Lide could say anything about it he just walked over silently to his seat, sitting next to a tall girl with pale blue hair. Rix glanced over at her a couple of times before daring to strike a conversation.

“Uhm, hello! I’m Rix, may I ask yours?”  

No response, Rix started to panic wondering if he did something wrong until

“The name’s Cloud. You’re the weird kid in my band class right?”  

“Wait you have Mr. M? How have I never noticed you before? I mean considering how tall you are and everything.” Rix regretted that.

“I have my ways, I like being a background character, makes everything less noisy and chaotic of you catch my drift” Cloud’s voice was smooth and sweet, also rather quiet as if she wanted to keep only Rix’s attention.

“Ritz right?”

“It’s Rix.”

“Close enough, wanna sit next to each other during lunch? And possibly Band class?”

Rix smiled, Roxi and Lide gave him a thumbs up for confirmation.

“Sure! I look forward to it!”  

The bus came to a full stop, Rix had to stop himself from being launched forward by gripping onto the seat in front of him. He only got his face slammed into the bus seat in front of him, better than last week. Rix stumbled getting up, then let Cloud go before him. As he walked off the bus, he already felt stares on him. Cloud quickly picked up on this and grabbed Rix’s hand.   “c’mon shrimp we gotta go.”

“why?”

“Unless you want to be beaten to a pulp and left looking like a raisin then I suggest you listen to me”

Rix just nodded, then a wave of embaressment hit him. Had she seen him last week? Before he could think any more, a tall tan boy with slicked back hair approached him.

“Bruce go away, please..”

“Or what you gonna call your mommy? Oh wait you don’t have one! Your freak of a brother killed her!”

“That’s sibling to you. Don’t talk about them like that”

Cloud stepped in

“Go back to the 80’s where you belong, greaser.” her stance was bold, she growled letting them know she wasn’t afraid.

Bruce growled deeply before slowly backing off, managing to get a few slurs in before Cloud sent him off with a kick to the side.

“You alright shrimp?” Cloud looked at Rix, who was obviously panicked. Usually Rix gets a few punches to the face before someone does anything.

“T-Thank you Cloud.”

“Eh, it’s whatever shrimp. I’ve dealt with them before, I’ll deal with them again.”  

Cloud seemed to radiate hostility now, did something bad happen between her and Bruce?

“You haven’t known me for long enough to know what the fuck just happened. I’ll tell you when we know each other better.” Cloud took a breath and then changed the subject.

“So where you off to shrimp?” her emotions changed almost exactly like a mood ring, I wonder if she is one.

“uhm.. I gotta go to Science. Then theres band, oh wait you’re in that class. Then lunch, which you also have, and then art class with my sister (that’s fun). After that I have English.” Rix looked down and mumbled an apology.

“Shrimp you ain’t got nothing to apologize for, I actually have Science too, considering you’re so quiet that’s why I never saw ya. You do have Ms. Spado right?” that was a lot of information to take in.

“Mhm.”

“Nice, well now I got a friend to sit with.”

The term ‘friend’ hurt as much as it made Rix smile.

--------

Roxi’s POV:

Why does everyone pick on my other siblings? They don’t pick on me for some reason, I would say its because I’m quiet but so is Rix. Then it occurred to me why. I wasn’t “out” yet so I guess I didn’t see the hell Lide and Rix did. I didn’t want to. Maybe if I-

I was snapped out of thought when I bumped into her, I felt my face burning up and it probably showed.

“You alright? Sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Her name was Bridgette, she had a headband with devil horns on it and a tail to match. She also had a hoodie, which she never took off, it had various religious symbols on them, and attached to it was two angel wings and two devil wings. I realized I was staring where I shouldn’t have been and quickly replied.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine. Have I seen you somewhere before? You look familiar.”

Oh no im doing it again.

Bridgette waved at her friends to let them know they can go on without her, then she turned back to me.

“Hmm. You’re the midgets’ sister arent you? I think he’s said a few things about you-”

“He has?! I’m sorry I cut you off, what were you saying?”

“yeah he has. He says youre pretty chill and that you motivate him to keep going.”

I questioned this, what did he mean by keep going? Is Rix okay?

“what do you mean by ‘keep going’?”

“Well Rix hasn’t exactly had the easiest life. I know that your mother passed years ago. He said he never got to say goodbye, and he didn’t get to say he loved her.”

How did I not know this? I know it was difficult with her gone but he never wanted to talk about it.

“I-I didn’t know”

“It’s alright, he’s a tricky one to figure out.”

“Well yeah, I get that.”

Bridgette smiled at me warmly and said “we should hang out sometime, just us.” then she turned and left, the sea of people parting for her.

---------------

Lide’s POV:

Names filled my ears and made their way to chip at my heart, or what was left of it. Its been 4 years since mama died and still everyone thinks that I killed her. I don’t know why, but its all around the school. How I did it, when I did it, where I did it. It’s saddening but at the same time it’s frustrating, they're using mama against me. I was always there for her when she got sick, I got her what she needed. I don’t get it, I saw eyes locked on me as if they look away they’ll die. I start tearing up as the memories of being called a faggot fill my head. I rush to the nearest bathroom.

I let out an exhale inbetween my sobs. This went on for several minutes until

“Hey, you alright? You’ve been in there for about... 15 minutes now.” The voice said

I sniffed, and then I replied quietly. “Yeah everything’s fine.”

They sighed and then replied back