#and most were done with the intention of him helping Bruce welcome them into the community (editorially speaking)

[scorpionyx9621]

Do you think Jason Todd fandom is kinda toxic? Because it seems like NO MATTER what DC do, there'll always be complains. Forget the bad adaptation like Titans. Even Judd Winick cannot escape the criticism with how he potrayed Robin!Jason. They just never satisfied.

SORRY, IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS. I just moved from Washington D.C. to Seattle, which, for my non-American friends, that's 4442km away. And I DROVE THERE ALL BY MYSELF. And now I'm trying to find new work in a new city and trying to stay mentally healthy and positive. Life is exciting but hard and scary.

*sighs*

As someone who was a fandom elder with V*ltr*n. I've seen some of the worst when it comes to fandom behavior. I'm talking people baking food with shaving razors and trying to give them to the showrunners. I'm talking leaking major plot details and refusing to take it down unless they make their ship canon (I am looking at you, Kl*nce stans) For the most part, DC Comics has had a decades-long reputation of treating their fans like trash and not caring what they think so from what I've seen, we all just grumble and complain in our corners of the internet about how we don't like how X comic portrays Jason Todd.

The challenge with Jason Todd is that he's your clinical anti-hero, the batfamily's Draco in Leather Pants, he's a jerkass woobie, and on top of all of that, he's a Tumblr sexyman. It's a perfect storm for a very fun but frustrating character to be a fan of. It doesn't help that every writer decides to re-invent the wheel every time Jason comes up so his canon lore is confusing at best and inconsistent as a standard.

I guess starting with a general brief on who Jason is and what is uniform about him with every instance he's appeared in comics/media.

Grew up in a poor family in Gotham with a dad who was a petty-mid-level criminal, and a mother who dies of a drug overdose.

Survives on the street on his own by committing petty crimes and potentially even engaging in sexual acts to keep himself alive.

Is cornered by Batman and taken in after Dick Grayson quits/is fired

Becomes the second Robin, but is known for being the harsher, more brutal Robin.

Is killed by Joker after being tortured, but somehow comes back to life and regains senses through the Lazarus Pit

Resolves himself to be better than Batman by basically being Batman but kills people.

Where there has been a lot of conflict in the fandom is the fact that Jason Todd is not a character that is written consistently. DC Comics loves to go with the narrative that Jason was "bad from the start" and was the "bad robin" when, yes, he has trouble controlling his anger, but he also still is just as invested in seeing the best of Gotham City and trying to be a positive change for the world as any other DC Comics hero.

Where I get frustrated with the fandom is its ability to knit-pick every detail of a comic they don't like while completely disregarding everything that makes the comics great and worth it to read. My example being Urban Legends. To which most people had pretty mixed reactions to. I was critical of the comic at first but as it went along I ended up really liking it. I have a feeling DC Comics went to Chip Zdarsky and told him he had 6 issues to bring Jason back into the Bat Family, and honestly he didn't do a bad job. Did it feel rushed? Absolutely. I wish there was more development of Jason and Bruce's characters and their dynamic as a whole. However, where I see a lot of people being angry and upset with Urban Legends is that they feel Zdarsky needlessly wrote Jason as an incompetent fool who needs Bruce to save him.

Whether or not that was the intention of Zdarsky is up to debate. However, and this may be controversial, but I don't think he wrote Jason Todd out of character at all. For as fearsome, intimidating, and awesome as Red Hood is. Jason is a character who is absolutely driven by his emotions. Why do you think he donned the role of Red Hood? As a response to his anger towards The Joker for killing him, and towards Bruce for not taking action against The Joker and for seemingly replacing him so quickly after he died. Jason didn't care about being the murderous Robin Hood or for being the bloody hammer of justice against N*zi's and P*d*ph*les. He only cared originally about making The Joker and Bruce pay. It wasn't until he trained under the best assassins in the world and realized most of them were horrific criminals who trafficked children and were p*dos that Talia began to realize that the teachers that she sent Jason to train under started dying horrific and painful deaths.

The entire story of the Cheer story in Batman Urban Legends was started because it finally forced some consequences upon Jason. Tyler, aka Blue Hood's father was a drug dealer who gave his supply to his wife and kids. And when Tyler's father admitted he gave the drugs to Tyler, it immediately made him fall within the self-imposed philosophical kill-list of Jason Todd. And Jason, well, he proceeds to kill Tyler's father. When this happens, Jason is in shock. Tyler's dad fit the bill to easily and justifiably be killed by Jason. We've never seen Jason having to deal with the consequences of being a murderous vigilante on a micro-level. When Jason realizes what he's done in that he's murdered Tyler's dad, he's shocked. He tells Babs the truth. He does a rational thing because he's in shock. He doesn't know what to do, he never has had to face the consequences of his actions as Red Hood and now the gravity of befriending a child as a vigilante hero who kills people just set in when he killed the father of the same child he was just introduced to.

(Oh here's a little aside because it had to be said, Jason would not have been a good father or a good mentor to Tyler and absolutely should not have been his new Robin. Jason is a man who is in his early 20's (not saying men in their early 20's can't be good fathers at all) who is a brutal serial killer using the guise of a vigilante anti-hero to let him escape most of the law. the complications of having the man who murdered your father adopt you and make you his sidekick are way too numerous for me to explain in a long-winded already heavy Tumblr essay post. There's a reason why we don't advocate for a story where Joe Chill adopted Bruce Wayne or one where Tony Zucco took in Dick Grayson.)

The next biggest argument is that they feel that Jason is giving up his guns as a means to just be invited back into the Bat-Family. To which I will tell anyone who has that argument to go actually read Urban Legends. Already have and still have that argument? Please re-read it. Don't want to? That's okay, I will paste the images from the comic where Jason specifically says that he doesn't want to give up his weapons for Bruce and his real reasoning down below since the comic isn't exactly readily accessible.

Jason gave up the guns because he felt the gravity of what he had done and knows how it'll effect Tyler. Thankfully his mom is alive and in recovery. But Tyler doesn't have a father anymore. And Jason killed Tyler's father. It may have been in accordance to Jason's philosophy, but it was a case where it blurred the lines. Jason Todd isn't a black and white character, just very dark gray. He doesn't kill aimlessly like the Joker. If you are on Jason's list you probably have done something pretty horrific, and also just in general, being in his way or being a threat to him. Mind you, in early days of Red Hood and the Outlaws (Image below) Jason almost killed 10 innocent civilians in a town in Colorado all because they saw him kill a monster. That being said, Jason isn't aimless in his kills.

(Also can we just take a moment to appreciate Kenneth Rocafort's art? DC Comics said we need to rehabilitate Jason Todd's image and Kenneth Rocafort said hold my beer: It's so SO GOOD)

That being said, the key emphasis in the story of Cheer asides from trying to introduce Jason Todd back into the Bat Family and give an actual purpose for him being there, other than him just kind of being there ala Bowser every time he shows up for Go Kart racing, Tennis, Golf, Soccer, and the Olympic games when Mario invites him, is that Jason and Bruce ultimately both want the same thing. Jason wants to be welcomed back into the family and to be loved and appreciated. Bruce want's Jason back as his son and wants to love and protect Jason. Both of these visions are shown in the last chapter of Cheer while under the effect of the Cheer Gas. It's ultimately this love and appreciation they both have for each other that helps them overcome their challenge and win.

Jason Todd is a character who, just like Bruce, has been through so much pain and so much hate in his life. The two are meant to parallel each other. While Bruce chose to see the best in everyone, giving every rogue in his gallery the option to be helped and give them a second chance, hence why he never kills, Jason has a similar view on wanting to protect the public, but he understands that some crimes are so heinous they cannot be forgiven, or that some habitual criminals are due to stay habitual criminals, and need to be put down. But at the end of the day, the two of them both try to protect people in their own ways.

I am aware that through the writings of various DC Comics authors such as Scott Lobdell and Judd Winick, the two have had a very tumultuous relationship. And rightfully so, I am by no means saying that Scott Lobdell writing an arc where Bruce literally beats Jason to within an inch of his life in Red Hood and the Outlaws, nor Judd Winick's interpretation of Under the Red Hood where Bruce throws the Batarang at Jason's neck, slicing his throat and leaving him ambiguously for dead at the end of the comic is appropriate considering DC Comics seems to be trying everything they can to integrate Jason back into the family. That being said, a lot of these writings have shaped the narrative of Jason and Bruce's relationship and have an integral effect on the way the fandom views the two. It doesn't help that Zdarsky acknowledged Lobdell's life-beating of Jason by Bruce at the very end of Cheer by having Bruce give Jason his old outfit back as a means of mending the fence between the two of them. That does complicate a lot of things in terms of how they are viewed by the fandom and helps to cause an even greater divide between the two.

Regardless, I want to emphasize the fact that Jason Todd is a part of the family of his own accord. Yes, he's quite snarky and deadpan in almost every encounter. However, Jason is absolutely a part of the family and has been for a while of his own will. There's a great moment in Detective Comics that emphasizes this. Jason cares about his family because it is his found family. Yes, they may be warry about him and use him as a punching back and/or heckle him. At the end of the day, we're debating the family dynamics of a fictional playboy billionaire vigilante whose kleptomania took the form of adopting troubled children and turning them into vigilante heroes. Jason Todd wants a family that will love and support him. This is a key definition of his character at its most basic. This was proven during the events of Cheer and is being reenforced by DC Comics every time they get the opportunity to do so.

Now, none of this is to say that I hate Judd Winick. I do not, I don't like the fact that in all of his writings of Jason, he just writes him as a dangerous psychopath, and Winick himself admits to seeing Jason as nothing much more than a psychopath. Yet Winick is the one who the majority of the fandom clings to as the one true good writer of Jason Todd because 'Jason was competent, dangerous, smart' Listen, friends, Jason is all of that and I will never deny it. However, what I love about Jason isn't that he's dangerously smart of that writers either write him as angsty angry Tumblr sexyman bait or that they write him as an infantile man child with a gun. There's a large contention of this fandom that has an obsession with Jason Todd being this vigilante gunman who is hot and sexy and while I definitely get the appeal. It is very creepy and downright disturbing that all of you hyperfixate on his use of guns and ability to be a murderer. It is creepy and I'm not necessarily here for it.

What I love about Jason Todd is that despite all of the pain, all of the heartache, all of the betrayal, and bullying, and death, and anguish. Jason Todd is one of the most loving and supportive characters in all of DC Comics. Jason has been through so much in his life, but he still chooses to love. He still chooses to see the bright side in people. Yes, he takes a utilitarian approach and chooses to kill certain villains, but at the end of the day he wants to see a better world, and he wants to be loved. It takes so much courage and so much heart to learn to love again after one has been abused or traumatized. I would not blame Jason at all if he said fuck it and just went full solo and vigilante evil. He has every right to, but he still chooses to be with the Bat Family of his own accord. That's something that I see a lot of in myself. I have been through a lot of trauma and yet I try to be a better person myself in any way that I can. It is extremely admirable of Jason to allow love back into his heart when he really doesn't need to. He kills and he protects because he has this love of society. It may have been shaped by anger and hatred, but Jason has found his place amongst people who love him and value him. I think Ducra, from Red Hood and the Outlaws put it best in the image given below.

To end this tangent, I love Jason Todd and all of his sexy dangerousness, but it's far more than that. As much as Jason may be dangerous and snarky, he loves his family without a shadow of a doubt. I look up to Jason Todd because despite all of his pain and all of his trauma, he still choses to love. Jason Todd is a character who is someone I love because despite all of his flaws and having a very toxic fandom, he still serves as a character filled with so much heart and so much passion. I wish more writers would understand that. But for now I will live with what I have. Even though the fandom may be vocal about it's hatred for his characterization, I choose to love Jason regardless because he is a character who chooses love and acceptance regardless of his pain. Jason Todd is by no means a good person in any sense of the word. He has easily killed upwards of 100 people by now. He is a character who is flawed and complex but ultimately is one who powers forwards and finds love and heart in a place from so much pain and anguish. That is what I love about Jason Todd. After all, to quote a famous undead robot superhero, "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Jason Todd chooses to love despite all of the trauma and pain and grief. Yes, he is hardened in his exterior, but inside there is a man with a lot of love to give and someone who deserves the world in my eyes.

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Date The Hell Out Of You - Kaminari Denki

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​ Pairing: Kaminari Denki/F!Reader Rating: 16+ (Fluff) Words:  1,575 Warnings: I have opinions about comic books so don’t come at me. I think it’s a very mild argument anyway so it shouldn’t be a big deal, but if you feel offended pls know it wasn’t my intention to bash on Batman lol. AN: Hellooo here is my contribution to this months bnharem collab! The theme is Co-Workers and I just wanted Denki and a bookstore so you get this short and fluffy little thing. You’re welcome! Please check the masterlist below for everyone else’s works and heed each pieces warnings before you dive in!

Collab Masterlist My Masterlist My Ko-Fi

---

“You cannot sit there and tell me that you think Batman is better than Iron Man. I refuse to believe it.” You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest and glaring daggers at his best friend.

This had become like a routine to Kaminari, ever since he’d started working at the bookstore, which had been almost a year ago.

He took his lunch break at the same time most days, anxiously hoping you had a break at the same time as well. It wasn’t because he thought you were cute (he totally did, honestly), he just enjoyed your company. You had some loud and unique opinions on a lot of things, and he was thoroughly entertained when you went off like this. 

“Well they’re both billionaires with no special powers, just a lot of cool gadgets, right?” Sero pointed out, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded behind his head, his bento sitting forgotten on the table.

“You’re right. But Tony Stark has a sense of humor. Batman is such a stick in the mud.” You made a face from your spot across from them, your chopsticks resting over your cup noodles, the utensil keeping the lid closed so they would cook. 

“Yeah, but in terms of physical strength, Bruce Wayne has got Tony beat.” Sero sat forward, picking up his chopsticks again. “Tony relies on his tech. In a hand to hand fight, Batman wins every time.”

“Tony is smarter, though.” You sighed. “Look, do I need to direct you to read the Civil War series? It’s only like 7 issues. I can lend them to you.”

“It’s got Spider-Man in it.” Kaminari supplied helpfully. “He’s your favorite.”

Sero chuckled. “Yeah, okay. Maybe it’ll change my mind.”

“Trust me. Batman is lame, he’s got some interesting villains though.” You finally moved to eat your ramen. “What about you, Kaminari? Any opinions?”

Shrugging, he finished off the last bit of rice in his bento. “I don’t know, I’m not huge into comic books. I like Deadpool, though.”

“That’s so on brand.” Sero chuckled. “He’s a ridiculous dumbass, just like you.”

“Hey!”

“Listen, Deadpool is probably one of the funniest antiheroes. He breaks the fourth wall so often, it’s my favorite thing.” You grinned at him. “I think it’s a perfect choice.”

Kaminari could feel the blush creeping up his neck at your words. You thought he was funny. “Thanks, Y/N.”

Clearing his throat, Sero stood up. “My break’s over. Can you check on the YA section when you’re back on, Kami? Some kids were in here earlier and I think they moved all the Twilight books around.” His teasing grin told him that Sero had not missed the way he’d reacted to what you’d said to him. 

“Sure thing, boss.” He gave him a salute. “I’ve got like 10 minutes left.”

Sero packed up his bento and shoved it back in the breakroom fridge and left, leaving Kaminari alone with you. 

Kaminari opened his mouth, spitting out the first thing that came to his mind. “But here’s the real question.” He pointed at you with his chopsticks. “Team Edward or Team Jacob?”

--

Kaminari was crouching down, putting the last copies of ‘Breaking Dawn’ back on the shelf when someone walked up to him.  

“If she’s Team Edward you’re going to have to call up Aoyama and ask him to hook you up with some body glitter.” 

He glanced towards his right, smiling at the scuffed black boots belonging to his other best friend, Shinsou.

Kaminari stood, staring at the cat sticker stuck to the side of the reusable coffee cup that his perpetually tired friend always had with him. His gaze then flicked to his face, his customary grin back on his lips. “You think he can help?”

Rolling his eyes, the purple haired man shifted on his feet. “Of course. He works for some makeup place, I bet they have loads of glittery shit.” 

Humming, Denki let his gaze move back to the shelf, making sure everything looked okay. He threw his arm around Shinsou and began walking back to his own section (he was in charge of The Classics, okay?) leaning into the taller man. “I’ll pick you up some black eyeliner while I’m at it.”

“Please do, I’m almost out.” He snarked, before his smirk fell and he sighed. “Look, you need to do something about this crush you have on Y/N.”

“I do not have to do a thing, my friend. I am happily content sitting over here and pining away quietly.” Kaminari threw his arm out dramatically. “Leave me be.”

“Quietly?” Shinsou snorted. “Look, man, I just mean, I’ve been seeing Monoma hanging around her a lot, I just don’t want you to miss your chance.”

Kaminari stopped walking. “Monoma? But he works in the reference section, where they sell those ‘for dummies’ books!”

“Maybe he read ‘Flirting for Dummies’ and now he has a clue. You should look into it yourself.” Shinsou’s raised eyebrow caused Kaminari’s frown to deepen. 

“I know how to flirt, Shinsou.” Huffing, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t you need to go back to Science Fiction and get some work done?”

Sipping his coffee, he fixed Kaminari with a look. “Since I am such a wonderful friend, you’re going to swap me on Saturday and work my section, which is conveniently right next to Manga and Comics, where Y/N will be. You are going to make a move or so help me, I am going to beat you over the head with a copy of ‘Wuthering Heights’.”

“Why that one? Why not something longer, like ‘Don Quixote’?”

“Do you want it to hurt?” Shinsou asked, looking entirely done with his shit. “You’re ridiculous. Just do something, otherwise Monoma might get a date before you do.”

Kaminari cursed under his breath. The thought of you laughing and smiling at Monoma’s terrible jokes rubbed him the wrong way. “Fine. I’ll think of something.”

Seemingly satisfied, Shinsou patted him on the shoulder. “I believe in you.”

—

“How come you and Sero always have these fancy looking bentos for lunch?” You asked, sliding into the seat across from him.

Kaminari paused with his rice halfway to his mouth and looked up. “Our roommate. He’s like a mother hen, he always packs us lunch.”  

Looking impressed, you raised an eyebrow. “He sounds like a keeper.”

Chuckling, Kaminari sat back in his chair. “Yeah, he’s a handful, but under his extremely aggressive exterior he’s a good guy.” He gestured to your ramen. “Maybe I can get him to make you one. All I have to do is tell him you eat cup noodles for lunch every day and he’ll have a heart attack.”

“I like my ramen, okay? It makes me feel like Naruto.” You raised your arms and grinned. “Believe it!”

Rolling his eyes fondly, he turned back to his lunch, poking at his tamagoyaki. He’d been working in the section beside you all day, listening to you gush over the newest shipment of manga you’d received, shoving books at him and making recommendations. He’d been trying to work up the courage all day to get off his ass and ask you out, and he was failing spectacularly.

“You know, if you want to be like Naruto, you should be eating tonkatsu miso with the little narutomaki in it.”

You blinked at him, looking surprised. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

This was it. His chance. “We should go get the real thing sometime.” He swallowed thickly, his palms sweating. “Like, maybe tomorrow night?” He closed his eyes, waiting for you to respond.

“Kaminari, are you asking me on a date?”

The fondness in your tone had him opening his eyes to see your expression. You were blushing, biting on your bottom lip as you stared at him.

“I mean, yeah. A date. If you want to, I mean.”

He was seconds away from backpedaling, his heart climbing up his throat and on the verge of escaping his body. The anticipation was killing him. 

His nervousness and fear of rejection was all for naught. Your face lit up, a genuine smile gracing your lips. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I would love that.”

A breath he didn’t realize he was holding escaped his lips. “Yeah, okay. Awesome.”

You giggled, leaning your elbow on the table, resting your cheek against your palm. “Did you think I’d say no?”

Feeling a little ridiculous, he blushed and nodded. “I was worried you might. I’m an idiot and you’re...you.”

You scoffed, kicking him under the table lightly. “You’re not an idiot, Kaminari. To be honest, I thought you’d never ask. I guess Shinsou wasn’t lying.”

“About what?” He sat up straight, frowning. “I’m going to kick his ass. What did he say?”

Snorting, you shook your head. “He might have mentioned that you liked me. I wasn’t sure though.”

“Are you kidding? Was I not being obvious enough?”

“You flirt with everyone, I didn’t think I was special.” You teased. “I’m glad he was right, though.” You turned back to your noodles.

“You are though. At least you are to me.” Grinning, he nudged your foot with his. “I’m going to date the hell out of you, Y/N. Just wait and see.”

His heart swooped in his chest when you looked back at him across the table. “I’m looking forward to it.”

[wrenhyperfixates]

The Raven Haired Rebel

Chapter 1

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After invading New York, it was decided that, as a punishment, Loki would work for SHIELD. Yeah, right. After escaping from their custody and stranded on Midgard, the God of Mischief decides to prove he’s the one thing no one ever thought he was: the good guy. Now a vigilante, Loki attempts to make amends for his past wrongdoings while also evading the Avengers, including their newest member. You. Brought in specially for the case, you notice more and more details about the prince’s story don’t add up. When you get the chance to turn him in, will you listen to your employers or your heart that believes Loki’s done nothing wrong? Chapter Summary: In which you plead Loki’s case. Chapter Warnings: none A/N: Besides this being a miniseries, all the chapters are pretty short too! Hope you enjoy all the same :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting @mooncat163

RHR Tag List: @happygalaxymilkshake @electroma89 @stardust-walker @i-would-kneel-for-loki​

Masterlist

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Swiping into Avengers Tower made you feel important, more so than swiping into a SHIELD base. You weren’t exactly sure why, though. Perhaps it was because SHIELD was a secret, and no one knew. Here, the passerby on the street looked on in awe. Or maybe it was because the Tower was so elite. Because so select few got to enter. But really, it probably wasn’t that you got to enter so much as why you got to enter.

True, since your first day on the job, word got around that you were the best in your field. Fast as lightning, you’d risen through the ranks to be Fury’s top tracker, a position all but secured when he brought you on for this case. A case, you knew, that intrigued you far more than it should have.

Just like everyone else had on that day a little over three months ago, you watched the TV with rapt attention as gods and superheroes made themselves known to the world. And, you supposed, supervillains too. Not that you’d told anyone, but something didn’t quite sit right with you in the weeks after when news anchors and colleagues alike were referring to the raven haired god as such.

For the next three days, you’d pored over books of Norse Mythology and a number of studies. Most of the latter coming from one Dr. Jane Foster, who you soon came to link with Thor. But even there you found a disconnect between the god of legends and the bloodied man on your screen. He never really did have malicious intent before. He was a trickster, yes, but he’d not even come close to doing something this drastic before! Ok, yes, there was his involvement in Ragnarök in the myths, but even for that you’d found multiple sources that could debunk it. Besides, it certainly didn’t seem like Asgard had even faced the end times yet.

Alas, you figured Thor knew his brother, and you had your own case to work on, so you let be the mystery that was Loki.

And then you were called into Fury’s office a week ago and asked to begin tracking the god. A bit too eagerly, you’d agreed to take the case. You’d dealt with villains before, truly evil people, and your search only further proved what deep down you already knew; Loki was not one. Everywhere you followed his trail, a mysterious savior was stopping bank robberies and saving people from burning buildings and runaway trains. Not to mention there were multiple descriptions of said savior using green magic. It seemed a wonder that the tracker in the case before you hadn’t noticed. Then again, people tend to only see what they want to.

Regardless, you made your way to the elevators, heading toward the conference room on one of the upper floors. You tapped your foot as it ascended, impatient to share your findings. As the lift stopped and you got out, you tugged on your leather jacket. It was ever so slightly too big, but it was on sale. Plus, you felt like it looked pretty cool, considering your job and all. Subconsciously, you puffed up your chest a bit too. Regardless of actual size, you felt like a petite little thing, stepping into a room of now renowned heroes. Strange, you thought, how so much could change in just three months.

“You know, I got to get me one of those,” said the man suddenly keeping pace next to you. You quickly identified him as Tony Stark.

“I... Pardon?” you replied, slightly startled.

“Your jacket,” he said, pointing at it. “I feel like the leather will match the whole rugged good-guy, vibe. Besides, I think Capsicle’s got one.”

You chuckled at that. “Maybe we should just make it the team uniform then.”

“Team, huh? So you must be that new tracker kid we’re working with.”

“I’d hardly call myself a kid,” you scoffed.

“When you get to be as rich as I am, you get to call everyone a kid,” Tony shrugged.

“I’m not exactly sure that’s how it works, but whatever you say, I guess,” you chuckled again.

“See, now if everyone would just adopt that mindset, we’d get stuff done a lot faster around here.” He quickly signed something that was brought up to him on a clipboard, never stopping. You wondered how long he could keep up like this before collapsing. “Besides, take it as a compliment. That last tracker was some fuddy-duddy old guy.”

“Fuddy-duddy?” you guffawed. “Maybe you’re the old one, after all.”

Tony feigned like he’d been struck in the heart. But before you could keep up the banter, you reached the conference room, and Steve was waving you inside.

“Stark,” he said with a nod. “Are you ready to begin or are you going to keep distracting our new teammate?”

“Aye aye, Captain,” he said with a little salute. “Reporting for duty.”

You mouthed a sorry as you followed Stark into the room. Even if the rest of them turned out to be hard-asses, at least Tony was fun. And having one ally was better than none, you figured. As you took your seat across from your new friend, you flipped through the file that had been left for you. It wasn’t really anything new, so you glanced at your teammates again. Nat and Clint both nodded at you, recognizing you from a couple other missions you’d interacted during. There wasn’t really any time to talk, however, before Captain Rogers was walking to the head of the long table.

“Alright, team. Before we get started, I think it’s worth mentioning we have a new member on the team,” Steve said, before welcoming you by name. “I think we’re all caught up on the situation here, so let’s dive right in. A new trend has shown up in the Tower’s data mining.”

“Data analysis,” Tony butt in. “It sounds more ethical that way.”

“Whatever you want to call it, the program showed that wherever Loki goes, there’s a spike in activity of an organization calling themselves AIM. At first glance they seem innocent, but after some digging, we’ve found they’re anything but. We’ve determined Loki is working with them, perhaps even masterminding some of their more underground projects. Agent? Can we assume you found the same things?”

“Uh, yeah, no. Actually, my data shows the opposite,” you cleared your throat. Standing, you slid the information from your tablet onto the room’s TV screen. “See, it seems that he’s actually doing good deeds. There are multiple accounts of a man fitting Loki’s description performing heroic works.”

“Ok, I’ll bite,” Tony said, leaning forward. “What about AIM then? You think it’s a coincidence.”

You bit your lip. “I’ll admit, I haven’t found anything about them yet. But... maybe, just maybe, Loki’s showing up where they are because he’s trying to stop them.”

“I am so sorry to interrupt, but that does not sound like the Loki I know at all,” Thor laughed. “A wonderful joke, though.”

Now you were getting mad. You shouldn’t be, but you saw something worth defending in Loki. A lot, actually. There was something about that look in his eye that you couldn’t quite read, but it was telling you something was wrong all the same.

“That’s not fair! Maybe you don’t know him as well as you thought. Look at this,” you said, swiping to show a side by side of Loki during and after the fight. “You can see it by the look on his face; something was seriously wrong during the battle. Plus, I’ve seen videos of him when he first came; he was not alright. Afflicted with severe anxiety and what looks like burn marks, I’d say. He needed help.”

“With all due respect,” Clint chimed in, “aren’t your a tracker, not a psychologist?”

“Yes, but as such I’ve been trained to look at all the details. Not just what’s convenient.”

“Listen,” Steve sighed before things got any more heated. “It’s a great theory and all, but you read Thor’s account of everything that happened before this. So, until we get some solid evidence proving otherwise, we’re going to have to stick with what we already know. We’ll put a pin in the AIM thing until you can take a look, though. Ok?”

“Ok,” you agreed, defeatedly taking your seat again.

You looked around the table. Natasha and Bruce, the only two who hadn’t said anything, both looked kind of pensive. Alright, maybe bewildered was the better word for Bruce. He was smart, no doubt about it, but you got the impression he wasn’t very good in social settings. Then there was Clint and Thor, both who seemed a little skeptical of you. At least Thor seemed to be considering his brother’s innocence at least a little. Steve was a bit more unreadable as he continued to prattle on about what you already “knew” for the case. And then there was Tony, who seemed more impressed than anything else. He, at least, had seemed to genuinely consider what you said. Perhaps he still was.

“The best way to solve this,” Steve closed his spiel, “is to bring him in. Agent, have you located him yet?”

You sighed. Deeply. It shouldn’t be this much of a struggle to present your findings. You’d had no trouble speaking on his behalf. Yet a part of you—an alarmingly large part, you realized—didn’t want to turn him in. But who were you to ignore direct orders?

“Yup,” you conceded, pulling up a map with a blinking red dot, marking Loki’s location.

“Well then, team,” Steve said to the group. “Let’s roll out.”

[prettyyoungandbored]

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Nine

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: None

Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho, @claudiahxrdy​ (Let me know if you want to be tagged in this!)

Bruce’s fingers ran through Demetria’s black hair, tucking a strand behind her ear before his fingers slid softly down her jawline.

She was fast asleep, her head resting on his chest, their legs intertwined. Her breathing was gentle, heart beating slowly against his. Her jacket was draped over her like a blanket. His arms wrapped around her protectively.

After having their way with each other, they’d put their clothes back on with the intention of driving back home, but exhaustion overwhelmed them and instead they opted for sleeping on the floor. 

Bruce felt relief wash over him, knowing that he didn’t have to hide from her nor did he lose her in the process. His eyes fell to her stitch on her forearm. The scar would forever be a reminder of his carelessness and he would never forgive himself for as long as lived.

Her eyes fluttered open, a tired smile forming on her lips.

“Morning,” she mumbled, nestling her head closer to him as she basked in the warmth of his body.

He kissed the top of her head, pulling her close to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore, but nothing some asprin can’t fix.”

“I have a bottle in the top right drawer. I also have aftercare stuff for stitches in my desk if you need it. I’ve had to stitch myself multiple times.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “You do it yourself?”

“Alfred helps.”

She hummed. “I’m getting you a blanket to keep in here. Maybe a pillow too.”

He chuckled, his lips hovering over the top of her head. “I don’t need it.”

She lifted her head. “But I might.” 

“Who says I’ll allow you back in here?” he teased. 

“I can make myself very useful to you.” 

“You’re always useful to me.”

She rolled her eyes, lying her head back down. “You know what I mean.”

His fingers circled her back as he rested his chin on top of her head. “Dem?” 

“Yea?” 

“Are all your panic attacks like that?”

She glanced up. “Like what?” 

“Like how it was last night?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never had one that intense before. They vary in severity, but usually it’s manageable.” 

He closed his eyes, cursing himself even more. He knew he should’ve been there. “What can I do for you when you have them?”

 “Just ask me what I need,” she shrugged. “I’ll usually tell you if I want you there or if I want space.”

“You promise?” 

“I do.” Her fingers reached toward his hair, running through it. “I appreciate you asking.” 

She pecked his lips before stretching her arms carefully, aware of the stitch on her arm. “How the hell did we fall asleep on the floor?”

“I think we were both just were too tired to care.”

She got up, helping Bruce up off the ground. She threw on her jacket. “By the way, how the hell did you and Rachel survive that fall?”

He chuckled. “I’ve jumped off higher buildings. That was nothing.”

She cocked her head. “You live in a penthouse.” 

“When you’ve been at it for as long as I have, you get used to it.” 

“So you’re not going to tell me?” 

He smirked, resting his hands on her forearms. “I don’t want you jumping off buildings.” 

She scoffed playfully. “Fine, keep your secrets.” Then it dawned on her. “Speaking of which, does she know?”

“Rachel? Yeah, she does.” 

“Anyone else?” 

“Lucius Fox. He helps come up with the tools and the Batsuit. All this you see in here is his handy work. As for Rachel, I rescued her a long time ago.”

Demetria nodded understandingly. Bruce put his hands on her hips, pulling her close to him. “I should’ve told you sooner. I just wanted to protect you.”

She gently grabbed his hands. “Be honest with me here, were you really ever going to tell me?”

“I was hoping I could step down before we got married so that I could tell you when it was over so you wouldn’t worry. I realize now how foolish that was.” He paused. “I threw the fundraiser for Harvey because I believe he’s what Gotham needs and deserves. He’s better than Batman. I want him to continue so that the Batman can leave and I can begin my life with you.”

She couldn’t bring herself to be too mad at him, realizing his intentions were nothing but good. She also cursed herself for ever doubting him. 

“Well first, know that the right time to tell me anything is when it happens,” she told him. “Second, don’t get me wrong, what Harvey’s done for the city is great but he’s not you. You should be proud for what you’ve done for the city.” She pressed the palm of her hand against his cheek. “I want you to know that if you don’t want to give up Batman, that’s ok. If you feel like you’re done, then that’s ok too. What I don’t want is to be the reason behind your decision.” 

He shook his head. “You’re always my reason. Demetria, you’re everything to me.” 

Her lips curved into a small grateful smile.  “Just know I’m here and I’m proud of you and that you’ll always be my hero.” 

‘I’m proud of you.’ Four words filled him with a sense of security he hadn’t felt in a long time. No, he never searched for glory or praise when it came to his Batman or personal duties, but Demetria’s support meant the absolute world to him. He knew his luck and he’d be damned if he pushed it any further.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his thumb wiping her bottom lip.

Her hands moved to wrap around the back of his neck and his hands wrapped her cheeks. “I love you too.”

He leaned forward, his breath hitting her lips for a moment before his lips brushed up against hers.

His kiss was gentle, but with meaning, just like his declaration. If both had their choice in life, they would choose to stay in the moment forever. To stay trapped in the most meaningful kiss that made the world and its problems around them disappear. 

Demetria slowly pulled back and rest her head on his chest as his hand rubbed her back. Her eyes shifted over to the computer screens, curiosity filling her eyes. 

“So what exactly is this for?” she questioned, motioning her head toward it. 

Bruce looked at the computers. “Helps with tracking.” 

“Tracking what?” 

“Anything and everything.”

She turned her head to him. “Including me?”

His hands were shoved in his pockets, slight embarrassment painting his expression. “Two times. Tops.”

She leaned forward, a playful smirk on her lips. “You’ve spied on me twice? When?”

“First time was the anthrax scare.”

“And the other?

“Huge drug deal happening in the basement of your apartment building. 

She hummed, the memory coming back to her. “Ah, yeah. That was a fun time.” Her eyes then widened. “Wait a minute. You called me that night...and you...you asked-.” 

“For you to spend the night,” he finished. He nodded. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.” 

“So that's why you made me stay at your place for the entire weekend?” 

He cracked a smile. “Made you? I seem to recall you not fighting me on it.” 

“I just thought you were needy.” She looked back over at the computers. “Would you teach me how to use the system?” 

“Why?”

“I want to help you.”

His smile faded. “Demetria, I told you I don’t-.”

“I’m already involved, Bruce. Besides, I’ll stay in here and this is a safe enough space for me. Plus, I worked in journalism. I know how to dig deep and find out things.” 

“I thought your job was to get people on shows?” 

“We had to do background checks and in-depth research.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “Look, I can’t jump off buildings or fight, but I can help with hacking and with research and that’s just as useful to your work as the physical stuff is. Think of it as me 

Bruce couldn’t bring himself to fight her. She’d had a point - she was already involved. She was also helpful with the tip from last night. Maybe she could be an asset.

“How do you know to hack?” he questioned, cracking a tiny smile.

“I know people,” she shrugged casually.

He shook his head. “We’ll try it on a trial basis.”

She perked up, her smile widening. “I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“I see you now know our little secret, Miss Gallagher.”

Demetria and Bruce looked over to see Alfred carrying two to-go coffee cups. He made his way to the couple, offering the first cup to Demetria. 

“You’re a lifesaver, again,” Demetria thanked him as she took the coffee. She took a sip, the taste of caffeine, half-and-half, and sugar welcoming her. 

She watched as Alfred set down the other cup on the desk as Bruce turned the computer systems. Suddenly, the pitch black screens turned to looped videos of The Joker. From security cam footage to his video from yesterday, his presence graced the screen and caused shivers to go down Demetria’s spine. 

The memory of the way The Joker’s eyes pierced in to her in the moments before he slashed her flashed in her head. She exhaled, shaking it off so Bruce wouldn’t see. 

Just when a distraction was needed, her phone rang. She dug into her jacket pocket to find it was her mom calling.

“Oh shit,” she mumbled.  

She walked to the other side of the Bat Cave and pressed the green button. “Hey Mom.”

“Thank god you’re alright! I had Henry calling me at midnight in hysterics, saying you were attacked and hospitalized - I could barely sleep last night!”

“I know I should’ve called-.”

“Thank god for Alfred! Alfred called me from the hospital to keep me and Henry updated. He even called this morning to say you were sleeping in and that he and Bruce had you taken care of.”

Demetria made a mental note to thank him for keeping her mother at bay.

“And Bruce! My god, the poor thing!” her mother went on. “I mean, he got lucky he was only locked in the closet, but it could’ve been so much worse. Thank god the rat guy came in when he did.”

“His name is Batman, Mom.”

“ I called Harvey to check on him and he said Rachel was attacked too?”

“Yeah, The Joker threw her out the window-.”

“Oh my god! Oh my god!”

“Mom, she’s fine. Batman saved her.”

She leaned her head back, closing her eyes. This was the absolute last thing she needed.

“That’s it! I’m coming in tonight.”

Demetria’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not! You are not coming to Gotham!”

“Demetria, do not fight me on this!”

“Mom, I need you to stay where you are. Now is not the time to come here.”

“I need you to be safe.”

“I am safe. They’re increasing security at Bruce’s place as we speak.”

“What about Harvey?”

“He’s untouchable. He’s going to be fine.”

Her mother sighed in defeat. “Alright, but I want a phone call everyday. You hear me?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And if this continues, I want you, Bruce, and Alfred on your way here or I’m coming in.”

“Fair enough. I promise everything’s gonna be ok. Just do me a favor and keep Henry calm and updated. I’ll call him later.”

“I will. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Demetria hung up, shoving the phone back into her pocket. She made her way back to Bruce and Alfred who were staring at the monitors. 

“Targeting me won’t get their money back,” Bruce said, his eyes glued to The Joker’s face on screen. “I knew the mob wouldn’t go down without a fight, but this feels different. They’ve crossed a line.” 

“You crossed a line first, sir,” Alfred pointed out. “You squeezed them, you hammered them to the point of desperation and in their desperation, they turned to a man they didn’t fully understand.” 

Bruce turned away from the monitors. “Well, criminals aren’t complicated, Alfred. We just need to figure out what he’s after.”

The case that held his Batsuit rose from the ground as Bruce stared at it. 

“With respect Master Wayne, perhaps this is a man you don't fully understand either,” Alfred suggested. He made his way toward Bruce, Demetria watching him. “A long time ago, I was in Burma, my friends and I were working for the local government. They were trying to buy the loyalty of the tribal leaders by bribing them with precious stones. But their caravans were being raided in a forest north of Rangoon by a bandit. So we went looking for the stones. But in six months, we never met anyone who traded with him.One day I saw a child playing with a ruby the size of a tangerine. The bandit had been throwing them away. “So why steal them?” Bruce asked with a slight shrug. 

“Because he thought it was good sport. Because some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.”

As Alfred walked away, Bruce and Demetria looked up at the screen at the Joker’s face. 

============================================

Back at the penthouse, Demetria sat in the living room watching GCN’s coverage of the deaths of Police Commissioner Gillian B. Loeb and Judge Janet Surillo. Both were murdered - one poisoned, the other blown up in her own car. Both deaths were believed to have been conducted by The Joker and by the city’s mobs. 

She couldn’t help but wonder if what had happened to her last night was premeditated. One of the henchmen singled her out to The Joker, referring to her simply as “her.” Perhaps she was on the list for round one of victims.

It dawned on her that by confirming her friendship with Harvey in her editorial, she set herself up to be a target. 

She shut off the TV and began pacing the room. What if the orphanage was next or GCN? What if they were going to blow up her old apartment building with everyone in it? What if they were going to try again?

She cursed herself for writing that damn thing. If only she had just let it go, she wouldn’t have gotten herself involved.

She ran her hand through her hair, when she turned her head over to see her laptop. 

That’s when she thanked God she was smart enough to befriend some of the IT people and researchers at GCN. 

She grabbed her cell phone and went through her contacts, before finding the name she needed. She dialed the number. 

“Harvey, are you at the office?” 

“Yeah, is everything ok? Are you alright?” 

“Is Grace at the office?” 

“Of course.” 

“I need you to let go on an errand for me.” 

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

That night in the Batcave, as Bruce suited up in his Batman outfit, Demetria sat at the desk setting up her new laptop. 

“And what exactly did you tell Harvey you needed a new laptop for?” 

“I spilled water on mine,” she answered, her eyes not leaving the computer. She clicked a key. “There we go! Now if you need me to hack into a place, I’m ready to go. I’m also logged into the scanner and can hear everything, but that’s not as fun.” 

“How do you know which security cameras the buildings use?” 

“Most places have the same system,” Demetria explained. “At least that’s what I was taught.”

“Looks like I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets,” Bruce noted. 

She furrowed her eyebrows. “There’s a difference between my limited knowledge of hacking and you being Batman.” 

He kissed the top of her head. “Are you going to be ok in here?” 

“I have a blanket and pillow and I’m wearing my favorite sweatpants so I would say so.” She eyed his computers. “I’m still working on figuring out those systems but I should be ok.”

His hand touched her cheek. “It won’t always be like this. Soon, you’ll have me all to yourself in bed all night.”

“And I cannot wait, but for now, focus on getting home safe and without a scratch.”

“For you, absolutely.”

He put on his cowl when Demetria said,” “Scanner is already reporting a shooting at West Point apartment on 78th. Gotham PD is on their way. Checking for security footage now to see if it’s the Joker.” She looked over her shoulder. “Better move along.” 

[mochegato]

Pixie Spy

Written for the Jasonette July Wayne Gala prompt.

Why?!? Why was she doing this again? Oh right, because John Constantine promised to give her some help with a particularly difficult part of the Grimoire if she did.  And he needed the information he was currently obtaining in order to give said help.  That is how she ended up with an invitation, still not sure how Constantine pulled that off, to the most exclusive event of the year, the Wayne Gala.  

Plus, Adrien was kind of right, ordinarily it would be a great opportunity to showcase her designs. The problem was on its surface, her dress wasn't one of her best works. The black dress had a high, cowl neckline in front and in back, adding a bit of drama and a small homage to the local heroes, vigilantes she silently corrected herself.  The high neckline also offset the incredibly short bubble skirt, making her legs look longer than the Nile.  Despite being a bit uncomfortable showing that much leg, it was necessary for this particular design and if she could actually feel like she had long legs for once, she was willing to deal with the discomfort.  She also added a glittery belt to show her shape and add some bling, which seemed like something the people at this particular event would value.  It was functional, not fashionable.  Not that it was ugly, just that it was designed to be passable, enough to fit in but not enough to get noticed.

She fidgeted slightly as she stood in the entryway trying to get past the people piling up trying to not so discretely pay homage to the king.  That king being Bruce Wayne. From her research, he actually did seem like he was a good guy. The list of charities he started or contributed to was longer than she was tall. She scowled at the voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Adrien's saying that wasn't much.  Adrien, who got out of coming tonight because the mission was to observe the Waynes unnoticed and Adrien Agreste would get a bit too much attention, that cat bastard.

Despite the laundry list of charity work, Marinette was still suspicious of Wayne.  First of all, he was rich, filthy rich.  Anyone that rich had to have some dark and twisted secrets they were hiding.  He wouldn’t be the first rich person to hide their illicit activities behind a veil of charity work.  Second, he chose to live in Gotham, the most crime-riddled city in the world.  And that is just the reported crime.  A great deal of the crime never got reported to or investigated by the police, whether through corruption or exhaustion.  The kind of place a rich person could be confident they would get away with literal murder.

But mostly, it was Constantine that made her suspicious of Bruce Wayne.  Not that Constantine had ever said anything negative about him, well nothing more than calling him a pain in the ass, but that was really not so much an insult as a compliment coming from Constantine.  But, Wayne had information Constantine needed to help them with the Grimoire and Constantine refused to say how Wayne had gotten that information. How and why would a playboy billionaire have that information?  There is absolutely no reason someone outside of the hero/villain/magic community would have that information.  And, if he was such a good guy, why would Constantine need to go to these lengths to get it without Wayne’s knowledge?  Unless it was related to one of his illicit secrets.

Her eyes darted around the room taking in its grandeur, muttering to herself about how ostentatious it all was.  Normally, she would be completely mesmerized by the grandeur and pomp of the scene.  The room was decorated to perfection.  Everything was absolutely exquisite.  However, she was too anxious and wary to enjoy it.  So instead of being inspired, each gorgeous detail grated on her. She reached up to tug on her hair before remembering her hair had been pulled up into an elegant twist held in place with a single silver pin. With her normal anxiety relief method unavailable, she instead shifted nervously from foot to foot while she scanned the room trying to catch sight of the rest of the Waynes, gently tightening and loosening her grip on her purse, trying not to crush Tikki.

She was so lost in her anxiety she didn't notice the dark haired man walking behind her take notice of her and stop.  He stood behind her with a nonchalance that didn’t seem to fit a man his size.  He watched her fidget and muttering to herself about “damn rich people” with a smile on his face.

“You don't seem excited to be here” he said quietly.

She turned around with wide eyes, shocked that someone had heard her.  Whatever she was expecting to see it was not what she saw in front of her.  The man towered over her.  Even in her ridiculously, dangerously high heels, Chloe insisted, her head didn’t even come up to his chin.  He was also extremely handsome, with chiseled features and the most gorgeous blue eyes she had ever seen.  Those eyes were going to be a problem.  They were clear and kind and roguish and hypnotizing.  His black hair with a shock of white was slightly tousled giving the impression of a rouge trying to look sophisticated.  Was it inappropriate to imagine running her hand through his hair and along his sharp jawline?  Yeah, probably not appropriate and likely not welcome.  Clean up your thoughts, girl!  Great, now Alya was in her head scolding her.  No, that’s not right, because that would definitely not be Alya’s advice.  

He was grinning at her with an impish look in his eyes. “What?  Not impressed with the ‘we care about whatever the point of this gala is, but we’re not hobos so let’s not skimp on the luxury for us’ décor?  Or maybe it is the illustrious, soul sucking, benefactors of Gotham that have set you on edge.”  The smile he shot her was guarded and critical. She chuckled lightly and looked away. “You have good judgement and a good reason to be suspicious.  But you made it to The event of the season, so you must have done something right… or wrong.”

She hummed and looked away.  “Have you ever had one of those days where everything went wrong and now you don't know how you got where you are or why you are there?”

“I’m familiar with the feeling,” he nodded.

“That's my life. All of it.  Every single fucking day.  This one included."

He barked out a laugh and looked at her again appraising her.  “Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine.  I think I like you.  You might just make this torture session more bearable.  See you around,” he chuckled as he walked away.

Marinette watched the man’s retreating back.  The night was already going better than she thought it would.  But the plan for the night wasn’t to find a date it was to act as a scout and keep tabs on the… enemy?  For all intents and purposes, that is what the Waynes were tonight, right?  They had information that she needed, that Paris needed, and they apparently weren’t going to part with it willingly, so they were the enemy.  No, enemy sounded too harsh she chided herself.  Opposition? Yes, they were the opposition.  That sounded much less hostile, more like a game… a game where people’s lives were on the line.  You know, just for fun, no pressure.

She found a spot against a wall she could use.  It was slightly raised but not well lit so it wouldn’t draw attention to her.  From her spot she could finally see the family. It was very thoughtful of them to group together like that.  She could see the little one, stiff and military-like posture, glowering at the people around him.  He was standing as far away from the rest of the people there as he could without actually leaving the room.  Much closer to the dancefloor, she could see the middle boy talking to a few business men. They all had fake smiles plastered on their faces as they made seemingly insignificant small talk.  She did not envy him that experience.  Between the two and to the side was the oldest son. He was chatting up some business person’s daughter, leaning in a lot closer than etiquette would dictate. Just the father then… there he was still not too far from the door talking to a dark haired woman.  He had his arm around her waist as she leaned into him. She must be the girlfriend then. Mari made a note that she should probably pay attention to where she was as well.  Fortunately, the spot she had chosen gave her a great vantage point.  Unfortunately, her observation spot wasn’t as unnoticed as she had hoped.

 ___________________________________________________________

Jason made his way over to the bar and ordered a beer.  He still hadn’t spoken to his family to let them know he was there and he definitely needed a drink before he approached them.  Why the fuck was he here again?  Fucking Batman.  

Fresh glass of beer in hand, he made his way over to his brothers, refusing to acknowledge any of the partygoers along the way.  He watched as his brothers took note of his approach and excused themselves from their conversation partners.  Dick didn’t look too happy to turn away from the latest interest, smiling at her and giving her reassurances before sending her away.  Tim looked less happy to have to turn away from the men he was talking with. He should be thanking Jason really. He was giving him an out from having to deal with them and their god awful personalities and fashion. Seriously, who told that guy that tie was okay.  Even the Riddler would think that tie was obnoxious.

“Okay, I’m here,” Jason said taking a large swig of his drink.  “How long before I can ditch this bottomless pit of misery?”

“Woah, slow down there.  You’re going to get drunk before the announcement.”  Dick cautioned him.

“Do you want me here or do you want me sober?  You’re going to have to choose one.  They’re mutually exclusive, Dickweed.”

“Come on Jaybird, we all have to be here.  None of the rest of us are getting drunk.”

“That’s just because I’m smarter than you guys are,” he said tipping his glass to Tim who had scoffed at the suggestion and took another drink.  “There is no reason we all have to be here.  We shouldn’t all have to suffer.  And officially, I’m not even a member of this hellscape of a family anymore so I really shouldn’t have to be here.”

“If The Disappointment gets to leave, so do I. Someone should be patrolling tonight instead of all of us wasting our time entertaining these harpies.  And if one more person tries to touch me on my head I’m going to break a hand.”

“Stop it!  Nobody is leaving, Damian.  We’re in this together.  And Jason, if anyone got to go home it wouldn’t be you.  You are the reason we all have to be here in the first place; so we can ALL show our support when we officially announce that you are part of this ‘hellscape of a family’ again.  So enjoy it,” he said with a cutting smile.

“Not everyone enjoys getting groped by the gold-digging, trust fund whores.  I’ve found a way to cope.  It’s called alcohol.  Now if you’ll excuse me,” he downed the drink in his hand, “my drink is empty.  I’m going to go find another.”

“At least try not to interact with anyone. We don’t want to piss anyone off tonight.  And I don’t want to have to fix your messes.”

“Way ahead of you, Replacement.”  Jason turned and walked away before Dick could reprimand him again.  He needed to get away.  He could only handle his family in small does, very small doses, miniscule amounts, and he had already surpassed that limit.  

He grabbed two more drinks off of a passing waiter’s tray and looked for the Sunshine Girl.  He scanned the room sipping the champagne, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in the room.  His size and demeanor was usually enough to keep people away but making eye contact made people think he was open to talking.  He was not.  He had no interest in making nice with Gotham’s elite.  He wanted to get this night over with, with as little pain as possible.  

He finally spotted her off to the side of the room speaking with the obnoxious tie guy.  Jason watched as the man slid his hand up the side of her leg starting to move under her skirt.  Jason started to make his way over to them until he saw her move closer to the man.  She was close enough to whisper seductively into his ear now.  Ah, not uninvited then.  Maybe he had misread her.  Well there goes his hope of this party not sucking balls.  He started to turn away but noticed a pained expression on the man’s face.  He turned back to reexamine the scene.  She was holding the man’s hand at an unnatural angle.  It was a hold he’d used a few times himself, it was discrete but extremely effective, causing intense pain with a small movement.  He knew if she moved her hand just a few more centimeters, she could easily break his wrist.

She let go with a viscous look pushing him away from her as she did.  The man shook his hand and scowled at her.  He started back toward her and Jason took off running, not pausing to apologize to the people he bumped into along the way.  Before he could get to her, she had already taken care of it. She squared her shoulders and glared at the man, making it clear that she could and would continue with her actions if he persisted.  When she moved her hand ever so slightly, just enough so he could see it and remember what she had done, the man turned away and smiled at the people who had been standing behind him as though nothing had happened.  Jason chuckled to himself watching her move away from the man. She was definitely going to make this night more bearable.

“Looks like you don’t need me around for protection. Although I did bring a drink so maybe I can earn my keep that way,” he said handing her one of the glasses in his hand.  “That was extremely impressive.  How did you lean to handle yourself like that?”  

She accepted the glass and shrugged.  “You live in Paris long enough you pick up a few things.”

“That isn’t something you just ‘pick up’. That’s experience.”

“And that is exactly what you get when you have a supervillain terrorizing your streets and thoughts for 5 years; experience. And how do you know about that move?  Rich boy secretly a vigilante?” She raised an eyebrow at him giving him a daring smile and pretending to take a drink from the glass.  She was on a mission and she didn’t know him.  She wasn’t about to actually drink anything a stranger gave her, let alone get drunk.

“You don’t grow up in Gotham without learning how to take down someone trying to cop a feel.  And what do you mean about a supervillain in Paris?” he asked taking a step closer to her, concern edging into his stare.

“It doesn’t matter.  It’s not relevant for tonight.” She said taking a step away and scanning the room again to locate the Waynes.

He looked at her for a few moments taking her in, not just her appearance but how she held herself.  She stood with confidence and nonchalance.  She wasn’t acting coy, she wasn’t baiting him to ask her more questions, she was serious.  There was some kind of supervillain running around Paris that they had no idea about.  Well that piqued his interest.  He wanted to find out more about that and just his luck, the only person around who knew about it was the gorgeous and badass Sunshine Child in front of him. Guess he’ll just have to suffer and spend more time talking to her.  The things he does for Gotham, he smirked to himself. “I’m Jason,” he said putting his hand out for her to shake.

She looked at his hand before hesitantly taking it. His hand absolutely engulfed hers. “Nice to meet you Jason,” she said looking toward the dancefloor.  She had last seen the Waynes near the dancefloor and they couldn’t have gotten far, right?  They were likely to be near it.

Misinterpreting her focus he asked, “Wanna dance?” placing down his now empty glass.

She needed a better vantage point to locate the Waynes and even if they weren’t on the dancefloor anymore, the dancefloor would be the ideal place get an unobstructed, overall view of the room.  She could see the entire room from the dancefloor.  She just had to scope it out discretely so Jason didn’t get suspicious.  “Sure,” she said smiling at him and accepting the hand he had offered her.

He guided her out onto the dancefloor.  Jason noticed a little girl standing nervously next to the dancefloor looking at a group of kids nearby.  “Hold on just a second,” he said dropping her hand to kneel down next to the little girl.  “Hey, I just wanted to say what a beautiful dress you have.  I wish you had a smile to match.  Anything wrong, kid?” he asked gently.  The little girl gave him a nervous smile.

“Thanks.  My Mom said I could pick out a dress and I chose this one.  But Mom says it looks silly.  It’s too fluffy and gets in everyone’s way.”

At that Marinette kneeled down next to her as well. “Oh.  Well, let me fill you in on a little secret.  I’m a fashion designer and I can tell you there is nothing wrong with fluffy.  You did a great job picking it out.  It is perfect for you.  I couldn’t design anything better.  I wish I looked as confident and effortlessly beautiful as you do. ”

The smile the little girl gave her was genuine this time.  “You really like it?”

“I do,” Marinette responded.  

“I do, too.  I’m not a fashion designer, but I still think you look good, kid.  And if anyone tells you they don’t like it, scr… I mean, forget them.  Who cares what they think.  A fashion designer and a delinquent think it looks amazing.  Don’t let someone else tell you what you like.” Jason added.  The little girl beamed at both of them and bounded off to join the kids with much more confidence.

Marinette watched him as he watched the kid play with her friends making raucous noise as they played, a grin on his face until he saw some parents come to reprimand their kids for being so noisy.  So, rich boy has a heart and is really protective of kids.  Well that wasn’t going to help Marinette focus solely on the mission. “That was incredibly nice of you.  That’s not advice I would have expected from someone attending a party like this.” Marinette said taking Jason’s outstretched hand again.

“Just because we’re miserable here doesn’t mean she should be, too.  Kids should be happy.  It’s ridiculous to bring a kid to a party if you aren’t going to let them be a kid. Adults in Gotham expect too much of their kids.  They treat them like props instead of kids, tools to help them achieve a goal.” He said voice getting gruff as he spoke.  He looked back at her and shook his head as if to clear his head of his thoughts.  He smiled at her instead and took her waist with his free hand to start dancing with her.

“You know, I noticed you never did give me your name.”

She looked into his eyes for a just a moment before she looked back to the dancefloor, “You know, I noticed that too.”

“Hmmm.  Secretive. No name but a fashion designer from Paris,” he said.  Marinette paled slightly refusing to look back at him.  He was paying attention to her and noticing details.  She hadn’t expected that from this crowd.  She was going to have to be more careful about what she said.  ‘Not get noticed’ played over and over in her head.  She was supposed to slip in and out with nobody remembering her.  She might have blown the mission already.  But, was she ready to walk away from those blue eyes?  Surely, talking with him couldn’t do any harm, right?  “So, did you design the dress you’re wearing?”

She was brought back to reality with a jolt.  “Yes.  Not… not my best work, but it fit the uh, occasion,” she stuttered out.

“Was the occasion to look stunning?  Because you do.”  He grinned smugly as she blushed heavily under his praise.  This was fun.  This was his new mission for the night; to see how many times he could make her blush.  “Still not going to tell me your name, huh?”

She looked back at him before dropping her eyes again.  Stupid mission.  If it were just her here for herself, she could stay here dancing with Jason and gazing into his eyes for the rest of the night, and tomorrow, and the day after for that matter.  But she wasn’t here for herself.  She was here for a reason and that reason demanded she be anonymous and keep track of the Waynes.

She scanned the floor again and finally spotted the Waynes, confirming they were all there.  Nobody had snuck off.  They really liked sticking around each other didn’t they?

“No, it takes more than a pretty line from a pretty boy to get my name” she said looking back to Jason and plastering on a fake smile. “I don’t need any rich boys remembering me after this is over.  Tomorrow I’ll go back to my real life and it will be like none of this ever happened. I can report that I came, I danced, and I even smiled a few times, then never speak of it again.”

“Friends or family forced you to come because they thought you needed some excitement in your life, Pixie Pop?”

“Something like that… Pixie Pop?”

“You won’t tell me your name and I need to call you something.  You’re little and mischievous and can handle yourself… Pixie Pop. Honestly, you’re lucky I didn’t go with Odysseus.  Also, you think I’m pretty?”  He grinned down at her.

She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, cheeks flushing slightly.  “I think that would have made you Polyphemus, which you certainly have the size for,” she grinned up at him.  “Anyway, that’s why I’m here.  How about you?”

“Oh, my family thinks I have enough fun already. I’m here because if they have to suffer, so do I.  And all to bolster the name of the illustrious Bruce Wayne.”

Marinette examined his face as he stared toward where she last seen Bruce Wayne.  He looked annoyed and frustrated.  This was a side of Mr. Wayne she had not heard about in her research, a side that frustrated native Gothamites.  A bit more information could be helpful for her to figure out what role he played in the Grimoire information Constantine was gathering, figure out whether or not he was a threat.  “Not a fan?” she asked delicately.

He looked back at her examining her face for any malice.  “Depends on the day.”

She hummed in response.  “What can you tell me about Bruce Wayne?” she finally asked.

“Why do you want to know?” he responded suspiciously. Most people looking for more information wanted it as a weapon.  Bruce might not be his favorite person, he might actually hate him right now, but he wasn’t going to help someone take him down unless it was him.

She shrugged, “everything I’ve seen shows an exemplary record for him.  You don’t seem to be a fan though and you’ve grown up in Gotham so you would have some good insights.  So, I’m wondering what your take on him is.  What he’s done to draw your ire.”

Jason nodded slightly seeming to mull over what she said.  “He does good things.  He helps a lot of charities.  He honestly does care about the city and the people and about making their lives better. His parenting skills could use some work though.  He could show his sons that he actually cares about them as more than tools, you know, whether they live or died…” he furrowed his brows and looked away for a few seconds before he schooled his expression.  His eyes got a wicked gleam to them and he leaned towards her to whisper conspiratorially “… and I hear he’s sleeping with Batman.”

Mari looks at him surprised.  “Huh, I guess he has a type then, supermodels, superheroes…”

“Supervillains…” Jason says under her breath looking back at Bruce and his date.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he covered quickly, but the damage had already been done.  She had started thinking about Bruce’s involvement with the super community.  If he was sleeping with superheroes and super villains, that meant he was part of the same circles as Constantine… and Constantine liked dating in the super community.  Could Bruce Wayne be in the super community?  That would explain why he had information pertaining to the Grimoire.  And she might need to revisit exactly how Constantine knew Bruce Wayne.

“Are you okay?  I didn’t break you, did I?” he asked cautiously.

“Yeah, fine I could just maybe use some uh, water?” she gave an awkward smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please?”  She just needed a bit of space to think.

Jason left to grab a glass of water and turned back to her.  She watched Bruce with her head crooked to the side.  He saw her finger discretely swiping to the right a few times as she stared intently at Bruce.  After a few times her finger swiped left instead and head straightened.  She looked around to the other members of the family as if she was counting, confirming something in her head.

Marinette’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized why Bruce Wayne could have information they needed and why Constantine needed her to keep an eye on the Waynes.  Shit. Shit shit shit shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.  She turned away quickly.  This could not be happening.  This. Could. Not. Be. Happening.  She did NOT help him break into the BATCAVE while she kept tabs on BATMAN.

And if Constantine was trying desperately to avoid him, like he did all his exes…That little…

Jason had no idea what happened but as he got closer to his Pixie he could hear her muttering under her breath in French.  His French was a bit rusty so even the pieces he could pick up were scarce and nonsensical.  Something about maybe “lying” and “Roast Beef” and “bat” and “shark” and “fucking”.  He couldn’t be positive about any of the words except two; “fucking” and “bat” those he was pretty familiar with.  Not to brag but he could swear like a sailor in at least 7 languages.  And “bat”, he knew that word in a few more languages for obvious reasons.

She was abruptly moving and ran right into him before she could take notice of her surroundings.  She looked at Jason with wide eyes, reexamining the man she had spent the evening speaking and dancing with.  Suddenly, everything clicking into place.  There was one more hero she hadn’t accounted for, Red Hood, who while he hid his face behind a mask, just so happened to have the same towering build as Jason. But Bruce Wayne didn’t have any more kids, right?  And if the other vigilantes were his sons, Red Hood should be too, right?  He just had the three boys and the two girls who were out of town.  That was it.  He had another son, but that son had died.  What was his name… She gasped loudly, “Oh God! You’re Jason,” she exclaimed out loud.  

“Yeah?”  He said confused.  They’d been over this before.

“You’re Jason Todd,” she said looking down and taking slow breaths.  “You’re Bruce Wayne’s son.”

He looked at her startled.  She put that together quicker than he was expecting especially since she didn’t seem to know much about the family. “For what it’s worth, I don’t feel like his son most of the time,” he tried to joke.  “Sorry for not telling you before.  I don’t like talking about being in the family, or being in the family at all, actually.” He winced looking at her wide eyes.

“I wasn’t supposed to get noticed by the Waynes. Shit!”

“Then you shouldn’t have worn that dress… or that face… or that smile, Pixie.”  He said grinning suavely.  

She examined him for a few seconds, emotions flittering across her face almost too quickly to identify them.  Confusion, bashful, flattered, hopeful, guilt, pain, melancholy.

“I have to go.” She finally spoke up.

“Wait.  What?”

“I… I have to go”

“Wait, is it… you have to go because I’m Wayne’s son?”

“No, I… shit.  Putain de bâtard.” Yep, that one he understood too.  Wait... “Me?” He asked pointing to himself.

“No, not you… Not because you’re a Wayne, well kind of because you’re a Wayne.  It’s…” she faltered for a few seconds then muttered under her breath again “Je vais tuer cette putain de mère.”

“Wait, who is the mother fucker you’re talking about? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.  I’m just going to kill a bitch when I get home.”

“Okay… Okay, first, that is a lot more swearing than I thought you were capable of and I’m extremely impressed… and turned on,” he chuckled as she rolled her eyes at him and mumbled under her breath “you should have heard what was going on in my head”.  He raised his eyebrows at her suggestion.  “Okay, you’re making it really hard not to make out with you right now.” He watched proudly as her cheeks suddenly blazed red at his comment. Another point for him tonight.

“Second, if you’re just worried about Bruce finding out you were here, it never happened.  I never saw you.  You were never here,” he assured her.  Instead of calming her she seemed more panicked, eyes darting from the door to him. This seemed like more than just not wanting to get noticed.  She was into something and didn’t want to be.  “Or, if you’re in trouble, I can help.  You just need to tell me what is going on.  You don’t seem like you would willingly work with someone out to hurt others, so whatever it is, I’m sure you aren’t willingly doing it.  If it is something bad.  I just really have no idea what is going on right now and I would like you to tell me.” He continued earnestly, looking her in her eyes to make sure she understood how deathly serious he was about it.  If she needed help, he WOULD help her.  Even if he didn’t like her, which he really did, he was going to help put that smile back on her face.

She looked at him for another few moments opening her mouth slightly to say something then seemed to think better of it and closed it again.  She narrowed her eyes and looked away scanning the room as she thought about what to say and do next.  She seemed to come to a conclusion as she turned back to him and set her feet firmly on the ground.

“I never told you why I was here, did I?” Even before he shook his head she continued.  “I’m here to keep an eye on the Waynes.  On you, apparently.  Didn’t know you were back from the dead though, so I wasn’t looking out for you. Congratulations on that, by the way, you know, on the whole not being dead thing.  That’s really amazing.  I’m glad you can be around to enjoy life and laugh and be sarcastic and look at me with those eyes and look like that in a suit… probably even better out of it.”  She muttered the last part under her breath.

“I’d love to see you out of that dress, too.” He smiled smugly at her.

She huffed out a breath, cheeks reddening again, “Yeah, not happening.  I’m burning this dress as soon as I get out of here.”

“I can help you with that, too.  I like setting fires.  Two birds, one pyrotechnic.” He preened for a moment enjoying the flirting. Wait, less flirting, more focusing back on the more important part of her earlier speech.

“Wait, why are you keeping an eye on us?” he asked apprehensively.

“So I could warn my… associate if any of you left. So he could have plenty of time to… what is the best way to say this…” she looked up to the ceiling and took a deep steadying breath thinking about the words she wanted to use.  None of this was part of the plan. “…so he could have plenty of time to evacuate your… lair? No, lair makes you sound like villains… your illicit… cavern of, actually I don’t know if it is a cavern… and it isn’t really illicit, is it?  Well, actually I guess it kind of is, but that still makes it sound like you’re a villain…your underground… no, I don’t even know if it is underground… to evacuate your… uh… secret… base of… um, operations?”

“My what?” Jason demanded now more than a little concerned. “Who are you?”

“Nobody.  Absolutely nobody of consequence. And nobody who should be here right now.”  She turned to walk away before Jason stopped her.

“No.  You don’t get to say something like that then try to slink away like nothing happened. Come on, we’re going to go talk to some people,” he said grabbing her arm a bit harder than strictly necessary and dragging her towards his brothers and Bruce.  She definitely figured out who they all were or at least who Bruce was and that they knew too, which put her in danger, and she was working with someone to break into the Batcave, which put them all in danger.  Everything about this situation was dangerous and bad and they needed to talk to the family to figure out the best next steps.

Marinette dug her heels into the ground pulling against him, a really bad idea considering how high her heels were. Instead of stopping him she stumbled into his chest allowing him the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said squirming to get out of his embrace. “This is between you guys.  I have neither the desire nor the interest to get involved in this little lover’s spat.  I have more important things to be doing right now.  Things that asshole was supposed to be doing instead of pulling practical jokes.”

“Jokes?  What do you mean jokes?  What the fuck is going on?”  He looked at her again.  She wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t gloating, she wasn’t even nervous.  She was annoyed verging on enraged.  

“Nothing you need to worry about, Red.” She threw in the moniker at him to get him to back down.  She knew how important secret identities were, and how finding out someone knew yours could throw you off your game.  She felt a bit of guilt as she used that knowledge against him but this was no longer fun.  Now this was infuriating.  John was playing games with his former lover, or current lover, whatever Bruce was to him, instead of just helping.  He was taking time she didn’t want to spend, time the people of Paris should not have to wait.  They had spent weeks planning this when he could have just walked in and asked for the information.  They had wasted so much time.

“I. Do. Not. Have. Time. For. This.  This is not a joke.  This is not some gag for you overgrown children to play at,” she said hitting her finger into his chest with each word.  “I have people in need relying on me.  I have children counting on me. Parents counting on me.  Single people, who also deserve to live just as much as everyone else, counting on me and all suffering while they wait.  I. Am. Done.  And I am leaving”

Jason listened to her shocked.  Something was happening and he had absolutely no idea what, but somehow they were involved.  He hated not knowing what was going on.  Apparently children were suffering because of all of this and he didn’t know why.  But, he was going to figure it out.  She was right.  They did not have time for this.  Whatever was going on, they were going to help.  He turned away loosening his grip on her waist to just laying his arm on her instead of encircling her.  He touched his hand to his ear to activate the com hidden inside, “Tim, can you check the security video for the uh… our base of operations?”

It appeared that Tim was giving Jason some resistance because Jason turned away even further and started yell whispering threats into the air.  He was trying to be as discrete as possible in the crowded room, which normally wouldn’t be such a concern but there was a group of dancers headed their way, just leaving the dance floor after the song ended.  Marinette took advantage of his distraction and the sudden cover to twist away from him and slip into the crowd.

Jason called after her and tried to grasp her arm but missed her.  He searched for her but the crowd was too thick, having had to bottleneck to get past the tables surrounding the dance floor.  He scanned the crowd for her twisted hair or the black dress, but couldn’t see her in the group.  She had effectively disappeared, but if she went into the crowd, she would have to come out and cross the dancefloor in order to leave.  He could just wait for her on the other side of the group and keep an eye on the dancefloor.  He moved to go around the table, but that side was just as crowded so he did the only rational, discrete thing he could in the situation, he slid across the top of the table landing on the dancefloor and waited to grab her there, but she never came out.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

_____________________________________________________________

Marinette had a habit of catastrophizing.  She knew this.  Everyone who knew her knew this.  She thought of all of the worst case scenarios and tried to plan for them. Generally, it was a wasted effort that did little more than stress her out and annoy her teammates.  Today, however, today it paid off.  She had anticipated having to make a quick escape and once she decided it was time to go, she put her escape plan into action. Freeing herself from Jason, she pulled off her belt before even getting to the crowd.  As she entered the crowd of people, she pulled out her hair pin, letting her hair fall down.  She didn’t even have to hunch down much at all to disappear into the crowd as she weaved her way through them.  One advantage to being short.  She ran her left hand through her hair tousling it so her long raven hair cascaded around her shoulders.  With her right hand, she yanked at the cowl neckline of her dress, allowing the fabric overlay to drop forming a floor length skirt, revealing the bodice of her now red Harlow inspired dress that had been hidden underneath.  Her new dress hugged her body until it reached her hips then fell freely.  

Finally, she reached into her red purse, removed her phone, the cookie for Tikki, and Kaalki’s glasses, nodded to Tikki, turned her purse inside out revealing a now black purse with red detailing, and returned her phone, glasses, cookie, hairpin, and belt into it, leaving plenty of room for Tikki. The entire change took all of 10 seconds.  By the time she would walk out of the crowd, she would be completely unrecognizable, at least by anyone who didn’t already know her.  Unless that is, if they were looking for someone moving against the tide of people.  That would be a dead giveaway.  So instead, she pivoted and moved with the crowd instead of against it, parting with them after a few tables and moving laterally toward the exit.

Marinette made her way to the exit quickly, but not quickly enough to draw attention to herself.  She needed to get to Constantine before the “bat family”, as her research had called them, got to him.  They had reasons for keeping other superheroes out of Paris and she had no interest in having that particular awkward and slightly guilt laden (stupid gorgeous blue eyes she wanted to get lost in) conversation with them.  Especially when she was this utterly livid with Constantine, which was another reason she was rushing.  She needed to get to him so she could beat the asshole out of him. Oh, she was going to make him pay for this, and not in a way he would enjoy.  

She was angry and frustrated and guilty and grieved. She knew Jason didn’t deserve for her to snap at him like she had but she had been too frustrated to hold back and he was part of the problem.  She had been having fun with Jason.  She had been enjoying bantering with him and looking into his eyes.  She had really, really been enjoying having him look at her like she was the most interesting thing in Gotham and having him hold her closer than he had to while they danced.  And now it was gone.  She was a hero and he was a vigilante so he had to be kept at a distance.  A 3,670 mile distance to be precise, well approximate.

She was just about to cross through the exit when a voice stopped her.

“Hey,” a woman with short black hair and green eyes called out to her.  Marinette slowed down weighing the risk of just blowing her off vs the risk of stopping. She decided ignoring her might lead to the woman calling after her, which would bring unwanted attention, which she wanted to avoid.  Stopping seemed the safer answer.  As long as she didn’t look back at the gala or do anything else that might incriminate herself, she would be able to get away without any awkward conversations or fights.

“Yes” she answered with a strained smile.

“I saw that little quick change back there,” the woman responded.  Marinette’s eyes widened in panic.  Before anxiety could start going over all the worst case scenarios her mind could come up with, she was already in the midst of one of them in real life she really didn’t need to start thinking of worse things to add to it, the woman continued, nonchalantly scanning the people at the gala, “don’t worry, I’m not going to out you.  I just might have occasion to use a quick change myself from time to time, so I was hoping you might share where you got your dress.”  She shot Marinette a wicked smile.  ”Just because you’re hustling doesn’t mean you can’t look killer doing it.”

Marinette relaxed minutely and gave her a small smile, “it’s called MDC Designs.  She’s online. What’s your name so she’ll know who to look out for?”

“Thanks kitten.  I appreciate it.”  She said never looking back at Marinette.  “Selina.  Selina Kyle. I’d say nice to meet you, but we never met, did we?”

Marinette smiled to herself as she walked out the door. Maybe the night wasn’t a total loss. Hopefully, Constantine got the information they needed, she’ll get to punch his smug face as soon as she sees him, and she’ll get a new client.  Guess Adrien was right about showcasing her design after all.  He must never know.  Not such a bad night at all.

 Chapter 2

 Tag:

@fsketchart @jasonette-july-2k20

[my-simp-land]

Every Stitch With Love

been on a writing spree. tbh feelin lots of burnout from my other hobbies. welp here we are. this one feels more emotional. bucky and you come to an understanding. bucky x reader. 1690 words. noice

Being an Avenger meant that either all your time was taken up, or you had all the time in the world. There was never a casual day where you went to work in the day and hung out with friends in the evening. It was never go out for brunch then come back and do some paperwork. You were either swamped with field reports or had an empty desk.

However, you were never free enough to pick up a real hobby, like book club on Thursdays or pottery class on Saturdays. You were always a wrist flick away from being sent on a mission for days, weeks, or months. That meant getting creative with your free time. Most of the Avengers indulged in some work related hobby: Natasha did ballet, Steve went on runs, Tony working with his suits.

Working out has never been my favorite, so I had to get extra creative. Reading is usually reliable. It only sucks when you come back from a two month long mission to the last book of a seven book series with little to no knowledge of what’s happening. That’s always fun. Baking was fun, until you strike some bad luck and everything you make sucks.

I picked up a new hobby a few months ago though: embroidery. The texture of the fabric, the cool needle, the transformation. It was the perfect muscle memory hobby. You just follow the pattern. It gives your brain just enough of that itch to keep it happy, but it’s easy enough that you can just disconnect and autopilot the entire time.

At first, my room and the commons became littered with embroidery hoops with simple designs. It quickly transformed to patching peoples clothing. Suits were always professionally patched or replaced, but you’ve got that special shirt or pair of pants that you just can’t get rid of. From there, I quickly grew bored and started giving people extra designs with their patched clothing. Natasha usually got edgy things: knives, flowers, spiders. Wanda always got flowers with the flowy lines and designs. Cap and Sam got lots of stars with the occasional firework. Tony got the funny, immature designs. Soon, people were coming to me with designs. Natasha wanted a sweatshirt with an embroidered sleeve like a tattoo sleeve. Peter wanted a Spider-Man hoodie. Tony wanted matching pocket tees for him and Bruce. That inspired me to make matching pocket tees for Steve, Sam, and Bucky.

Everything in the past had always been fun and easy. Everything changed when I decided to make Bucky something. I nearly threw myself in the lake trying to come up with the design. Actually putting my designs on a shirt was entirely different. I spent countless days and nights trying to make it absolutely perfect. It basically meant I was holed up in my room for who knows how long to also keep it hidden from him.

Knock knock. “It’s me, Nat. Just checking in.”

“Come in.” Natasha slipped in and quickly closed the door. She scanned my room. Nearly every surface was covered with pieces of cardigan or string. “It looks like a confetti cannon went off in here but with your yarn stuff.”

“Thanks Tasha. I’ve only spent, oh I don’t know, thirteen days in here trying to get my design right.” I huffed and threw down the shirt; my head dropping to my hands. “I don’t get it. Why can’t I do this, Tasha. I’ve been embroidering for months, and suddenly, I woke up and can no longer do it.”

“Honey, you’re overworking yourself. You just need to take a break. Let yourself rest then try again in a week.”

“I can’t do that! I want this to be done by the time he gets back from his mission. It’s his first mission since he was freed. I know it can be hard. I just...I just want him to come back to something that shows him I’m here.”

Natasha couldn’t help but frown. Ever since Bucky had joined the team, you two had had a rough relationship. The two of you were very private and closed off. It almost felt like putting two brick walls in front of each other to converse. Soon, the two of you were able to find a solid middle ground, but it was still really hard some days. You both denied it, but the love between you two was undeniable. There was still a bit of growing before the relationship had enough foundation though.

“I’m sorry. I can always go and sabotage the mission. Make them have to stay longer to give you more time.”

“Good heavens, no! I wouldn’t want him to have to be out of his comfort zone for a moment longer than necessary. I’ll just- just give him the best product I have when he gets back. It’s only a few days now. I’ve got enough time to start a new one but that’s it.”

“That’s the spirit. You usually work well under pressure; I’ve seen you cook dinner. I know it will be perfect.”

“Thanks Tasha. Guess I need to make a trip into town.”

Today was the day. Bucky. Steve, and Sam should be arriving within the hour. Return day from a mission was always rough. It always seemed like the day could never end. I’ve spent all morning doing everything I can to prevent that. A warm chicken pot pie, comfy socks, fresh drinks, and a clean area always helped. It may have been influenced by some mania, but that’s for another time.

“Miss, the group will be here in approximately 15 minutes. They have a debriefing then they should be free for the remaining portion of the day.”

“Perfect. My pot pie will be out in just enough time. Thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

15 minutes to finish preparations, take pot pie out of the oven, change into clean cosy clothes, dish out food, then spend the final minutes preparing myself.

“Welcome home guys!”

They were shocked to say the least. Usually everyone avoided each other on mission days. It was always awkward despite them all going through the relatively same thing.

“I made chicken pot pie and got some comfy clothes ready, so y’all can just pick up your stuff and head to your rooms for some decompression.” Steve and Sam quickly, but gratefully, grabbed their designated plate and clothes and headed to their rooms. Bucky lingered though.

“I- uh, thank you, doll. It was very kind of you to do all this.”

“It’s no trouble, Bucky. I- uh actually have something else for you. I’ve been working on it for a while.” I quickly grab the box on top of the fridge. “I wanted to make you something cozy. I know- um that we’ve had a rough time becoming friends, but I wanted something to say that I’m always there for you even if we aren’t together...ya know? Uh, here you go.”

Bucky stares down at the box for a long time. Like an awkward amount of time. Enough for Natasha to come into the kitchen, realize what was trying to happen, and quickly flee.

Finally, his hand reaches for the ribbon, gently pulling it from the delicate bow. He sets the ribbon on the counter behind him. He carefully removed the top to reveal the insid-oh god. That’s...that’s the wrong sweater. Oh no. No no no no no. This can’t be happening.

“Wait, You can’t look at that. That’s- that’s not right. I must’ve made a mist-”

“Doll?”

“Yes, Bucky?”

“You made this for me?”

“Yes. I’ve made countless variations. That one is just the first one. I promise if you let me go grab the right one you’ll love it ev-”

“Doll?”

“Yes, Bucky?”

“You made this for me. You created this. With the intention of giving to me.” I can see the tears begin to sparkle on the edges of his eyes. The blue becomes stormy. “You made this with thoughts of me. You said you made countless versions. You thought of me the entire time I was gone.” He unfolded the cardigan and holds it out in front of himself. “Just like I thought of you. Every second my mind was running back to you. I thought going on that mission would make me feel better; make me feel like I’m finally contributing towards bettering the world from myself. But I was wrong. I was better with you.” He slips the cardigan over his shoulders. It fits him just as I imagined. “I’m better with you. I’ll admit, therapy and my mission helped, but it’s you. Just knowing that you are in my corner, thinking of me and cheering me on...i just. You know?”

At this point, tears are streaming down both of our faces. We’ve had our moments of vulnerability but nothing like this. We both take that step forward into each other’s arms. We’re both engulfed with love. We squeeze each other, trying to get closer to one another. His scent engulfs me: his musky cologne and the sweat from his mission. His tears dampen my neck, but I imagine his neck is damp with mine. I can feel his heart beating through his chest; fluttering like a bird.

We hold each other for a long time: pot pie and a shower lost to time. At some point, we become one. His beginnings become my endings. In that time, there were no more words. It was completely silent, but we had a conversation. Every gentle caress, every heavy breath, every move became more. Bucky and I have never had a conversation as deep and understanding as that one, and we never will again. To connect with someone like that is a once in a lifetime thing. Not just anyone can rub your back and pull you close like Bucky can.

Eventually, we had to get up. Dinner was soon, and people would begin to use this area again.

“Bucky. We need to get up.”

“Just- just a few more minutes, doll. I’m not ready to let go of you yet.”

[marvelsimp]

THE NEW KID: Landing

THE NEW KID MASTERLIST Ch. 3

Genre: Fluff Pairing: Peter x Lesbian!reader (Platonic duh), Avengers & Reader Warnings: swearing, Description: Reader has just joined the Avengers so they decide to throw her a birthday party. Reader’s Powers: Healing, telepathy, and empath. Word Count: 2,737

“Peter! You got me into the avengers!” you scream whacking your best friend with a pillow.

“You’re welcome!” he laughs shielding his face from oncoming attacks.  You end up tackling him causing him to land on his bed. “Why are you attacking me? This is so RUDE!”

“HAHA! Too bad.”

“STOP. STOP” he laughs causing you to stop almost instantly. He sits up and looks at the clock, it reads ‘3:57’.  “How about we go back down to the game floor we can play some more laser tag or mess around with the VR stuff?”

“Sure but didn’t you say earlier that you wanted to show me the lab?”

“I forgot about that!” he stood up and reached his hand out to help you get up, you accept.  Peter leads you out of his room at Avenger’s Tower to go to the elevator then up to the lab.  “So, this is it!” he says taking you up some stairs.

The space is huge, where you just entered from is where the Quinjet lands, where the med lab is, and where the avengers keep their gear for missions.  As you walk up the stairs you see several platforms and ‘bridges.’  To your right you see a platform full of tools and stations cluttered with different projects.

“Most of its taken up by Mr. Stark,” Peter explains, “He’s constantly working on upgrading and improving all of our suits.”  He leads you towards the back of the area, “This is where I usually work.  I’m usually the one to work on my suit, especially during breaks. I’m trying to figure out a way to improve the capacity of my web-shooters.”

You nod, Pete lets you look at his formulas and blueprints. You give him a handful of suggestions and ask him a few questions. He listens intently to each suggestion and question.  He then has a quick ‘aha’ moment and writes a few things down for later.  You can’t believe that you now get to help him with this stuff in person.

“Oh,” he says suddenly. He points to an empty part of the lab next to him. “This is your station, you can put anything there and use any of the tools, under supervision.  Mr. Stark isn’t a big fan of us being up here without him or Dr. Banner but he made an exception for today.”

“Wait… slow down.”

Peter looks up at you, he’s slightly confused.

“I get to work up here, in the Avenger’s lab?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “What did you not understand about the part that you’re an Avenger now?”

“I don’t know… I guess that it just didn’t click.” You look around the space trying to figure out what you’ll do.  You then remember some of the old projects that you had to scrap because you didn’t the resources, you’ll probably have to start from scratch… wait your stuff is here. You let out a gasp and your eyes get a little wider. You almost run out to get your old blueprints but Peter grabs your wrists.

“Y/n, slow down.  Where are you going?”

“Sorry, I got ahead of myself.  I just remembered that I have my old blueprints still and that I can work on that stuff here.”

He smiles at you, he’s happy you can feel it off of him.  That was the first time since you got to New York that you had felt pure joy and he could feel it, too. His smile shrinks a little, “Like I said Mr. Stark doesn’t really like us up here without someone with us.” You nodded in understanding.

“Now let me actually take you to the med lab, I think that Dr. Cho will want to meet you.” He took you back down the stairs and opened the doors to the Med Lab.  Dr. Cho was sitting down busy at work looking through some papers and looking at something on the screen in front of her. “Dr. Cho.”

She looked up from her work and looked at Peter then at you.  Her eyes grew wide, “Oh, I completely forgot.” She stood up walking over to you and reaching her hand out.   You accepted it shaking her hand, “I’m Y/n.”

“Yes,” she smiled, “Stark told me about you and your powers. I’d love to do some testing later once you’re settled.”

“I’d love that too.  I’ve done a little bit of testing on my own, but I’d love to learn my limits.”

She nodded, she seemed excited. “I have to get back to my work now, but I will see you later.”

You and Peter exited the lab then went back down to the game floor as you had planned earlier.  You both walked down the hallway and entered the game room.  In one of the corners was Steve and Bucky, Bucky was hunched over on an old arcade version of Mortal Combat while Steve had his hand on the brunette’s back and he was laughing his ass off at the stern face of the “tinman.”  Steve almost instantly turned around when you and peter entered but he couldn’t stop his laughing quite as quickly.

You smiled and waved at them.  You turned to Peter, “What do you wanna play?”

“Smash Bros?”

“Minecraft?”

‘You always want to play Minecraft,” he whined.

‘And you always want to play Smash Bros!”

He gave you the best puppy dog eyes he could.

“Fine!” you laughed

“Yes!” Peter quickly set up the game.

“FINISH HIM” you could hear from the old Mortal Combat Bucky was playing.

You took that as your cue, “Do you guys want to join us?”

Steve looked a little surprised, he turned to Bucky waiting for his answer. “Sure, how do you play?” he and Steve walked over and joined you and Peter on the large couch.

“It’s kind of like Mortal Combat.” You went on to explain the game and gave recommendations as to who they should pick.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed after losing to the two super-soldiers who had never even played the game before today.

“Language,” Steve said nonchalantly.

“Sorry” you squeaked out.

Steve’s eyes widened realizing his mistake, he said it out of habit assuming it was Bucky who said it.  Bucky let out an earth-shattering laugh. While you were mortified that you had screamed ‘fuck’ in front of some of the Avengers not once but twice in one day. Once Bucky stopped laughing and caught his breath he turned to Peter, “Do you curse this much? I swear I’ve never even heard you say ‘crap.’”  He did, just not in front of the avengers.  Peter’s whole face had turned red causing Bucky to laugh again.

“Sorry, Y/n,” Steve said over Bucky’s continual laughing.

“What are you saying sorry for?”

“I thought it was Buck who said it so out of habit I said ‘language.’”

You smiled, “You don’t mind me-“

“Of course not.” Steve looked at his watch and then turned to Bucky who had finally stopped laughing, “Buck, maybe it’s time we head up.”

“It was nice playing with you guys,” you smiled.

“Yeah, we’ll have to do it again,” said Bucky.

“You’re an Avenger now, doll. Plenty of game nights.” Steve smiled walking out the door.

“Bye.”

Peter stood up. “Do yooou wanna play in VR?”

“Yes!”

“I know we’ve only been on this for half an hour but do you wanna grab some food?” Peter asked you.

“Umm, sure I could use some food.”

You and Peter walked back to the elevator taking it back up to the communal living space. As the elevator rose you felt the excitement rise not only in Peter but in some people on the floor you were headed to. When the doors opened it was darker than last time then you heard “SURPRISE” being shouted at you from all over the room and the lights turned back on. You jumped back a little then erupted into giggles. Directly in front of you were Ned, MJ, and May.  While the Avengers were spread around the room, which included some of those that weren’t at lunch.  There was a large banner on the wall that read “Happy 17th Birthday, Y/n!” There were streamers and balloons everywhere, along with some confetti that was spread along the ground. “Happy Birthday!” Ned, MJ, and May said in unison all grouping together for a group hug that caused you to giggle once more.

“Thank you.”

Peter grabbed your hand and led you over to a group of people near the dining table.  There was Pepper Potts with a little girl holding onto her hand, with a man, woman, and a teen girl that was maybe a year or two younger than you and Peter.  Pepper was the first to notice the two of you so she turned and smiled at you grabbing the others' attention.

“Hi,” you said looking back over the group.

“I’m Hope,” said the brunette woman reaching her hand out.

You recognized her but couldn’t remember how and as you shook her hand you let out a slight gasp, “Pym?”

“Yes,” she breathed out.

“Sorry, I’m way too invested into sciency things.”

The man next to her let out a chuckle, “I’m Scott.” He gently put his hand onto the teen next to him, “and this is my daughter Cassie.”

She smiled at you, “Hi.”

“Hi.” You were kinda confused as to who these people were, relating to the Avengers.

Peter whispered in your ear, “Think about it,” it was like he was the telepath.

After a second or two of staring at them, you let out, “Oh! You’re Wasp and Ant-man.” Neither one of them were known to the public as that but they were the only masculine and feminine pair, so it made sense. Hope let out a, “Yeah” while Scott just grinned impressed.  You finally turned to the woman you were very excited to meet, the CEO of Stark Industries.

“I’m Pepper,” she went for a hug that you accepted. Once you were released from the hug she put her hand on the shoulder of the little girl hiding behind her. “This is Morgan, Tony and I’s daughter.”

You kneeled to be at the girl’s eye level, “Hi, I’m Y/n.”

“Hi,” she said in the quietest voice possible.

You just smiled and stood back up. “It’s an honor to meet you all,” you said turning to each one in the small group, “I can’t believe that I’m even here.”

“Don’t worry,” Scott said, “We’re still getting used to it.” Hope nodded in agreement.

Thank god, that eased your anxieties a little. “Come on, Y/n. There are still more people you gotta meet.” He led you across the room where Tony and Colonel Rhodes, aka War Machine, were talking, Col. Rhodes seemed annoyed.  As you walked you passed Bruce, Sam, Bucky, and Steve who waved as you walked by.  Bruce stepped forward, “Hey, Y/n!”

You stopped and turned to him.

“Thor wanted to tell you sorry that he couldn’t make it, ya know family business. And he wanted me to tell you ‘Happy Birthday’ from him and Loki.” You smiled and laughed at the “and Loki” part. “Tell them ‘Thank you and that I understand. Oh, and that I wish him luck with his brother’”. Bruce chuckled at your response. He turned and returned to his group while you continued to follow Peter.

“Come on, Tony, another teenager,” you could barely hear Col. Rhodes say.

Tony just saw you two walking towards them, he pointed his head at you which caused Col. Rhodes’ demeanor to change almost instantly.

“Hey,” Tony said smirking at you and Peter, “How you feeling?”

“Uhh, I’m still in stock,” you laugh rubbing your neck.

“Don’t worry, kid, that will wear off.”

“I’m Rhodey by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“I won’t be able to stay for long I was told about this morning. I wasn’t even told there was a possibility of a new Avenger until then either,” he looked annoyingly at Tony.

“Oh, I... don’t worry it’s an honor just meeting you guys.”

“Y/n,” yelled Wanda who was over in the kitchen.

“Well, that’s me,” you commented pointing your thumb towards the kitchen.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Yeah, Happy Birthday, kid.”

You and Peter headed to the kitchen.

“That was kinda tense,” whispered Peter in your ear.

You nod in agreement as you enter.  Wanda is standing next to the counter eating some chips with Nat and a man you recognize as Hawkeye.  But more importantly, you spot some brownies.  You quickly grab one, “Hey.” Wanda smiles and hugs you before you sit on one of the stools.

“Hey, Y/n/n, adjusted yet?” Nat joked.

“Nowhere close,” you breathe out.

Nat elbowed the man standing next to her. “I’m Clint.” He put a fist over the chip bowl.

You let out a chuckle and returned the fist bump.  “You’re Hawkeye, right?”

“Yeah,” he laughs at the codename.

You continue to eat the brownie and happily smile at your best friend.  He takes a seat next to you and spins your chair as you take the last bite of it. When you look up, there she is Captain Marvel with a gift bag in her hand.  You choke on the brownie spitting it out in your hand then throwing it away. Peter looks up in concern at you, you simply point at her and he erupts in laughter.  Nat, Clint, and Wanda were first concerned when you choked on your food but are now very confused.  You turn around away from the center of the room, putting your face in your hands.

“Y/n, you okay?” Wanda asks.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out.

Clint throws a chip at Peter, “Bug, explain.”

Peter calms down.  “Y/n has a hu-“ he corrects himself, “is a huge fan of Carol.”

Nat catches on instantly, the other two don’t but are accepting of the answer.

“Peter!” you say shoving him almost causing him to fall from his chair, but he holds on to the seat. “You’re a fucking psychopath,” you whisper angrily in his ear, “Are you trying to kill me?” He laughs looking behind you, so you turn around and to your surprise, Captain Marvel is right behind you.  You open your mouth opens but nothing comes out.

Y/n.exe has stopped working.

Reboot?

Rebooting.

Peter gives you a little shaking you a little. “Earth to Y/n,” he whispers in your ear.  Everyone, EVERYONE takes note of this. Some understanding your behavior instantly while others put it down as you just being a “big fan.”

“Hi,” you blush.

“Hi,” Captain Marvel smiles at you.

“I, um, I’m a, I’m Y/n,” you finally stutter out.

“I’m Carol,” she smirks.  You put your hand out for her to shake but instead of returning the handshake, she puts the gift bag she was holding into your hand.  “Peter told me you were a big fan, so I got you something.”

You smile and hit Peter for telling her. “Thank you,” you barely get out as she walks away.

“Hey!” you hear from across the room. “Since everyone’s met Y/n let’s sing happy birthday!” you finally recognize the voice to be Tony’s, “Head to the Dining table!”

You’re still standing there stunned, “Did that just happen?”

“Yes,” Peter says grabbing your arm, “Now let’s get some cake.”

Peter leads you to the Dining Table and then to a cupcake tower full of different types of cupcakes with a lit candle on top reading ‘17’. You take a deep breath to collect yourself.  You look around you and you’re overwhelmed with how much you can feel all of them caring for you even though you just met most of them today.  You wish your parents could see this… no you wish that your parents loved you enough where you wouldn’t even be in New York right now, but they don’t, and you have to live with that.  “Thank you, for all of this,” you say looking mostly at Peter but also at the others.  “Usually, I would spend my birthday with just my parents and this year I thought it would be Peter, May, MJ, Ned, and I.  But I never could’ve predicted to be with any of you much less as your new teammate.  I don’t know what else to do besides saying thank you.”

Next Chapter

Arrived

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Yo! Wassup? I read far away today and boy is it awesome like you totally slay as sis .. btw when is part 2 coming ? Not tryna rush you or anything.. Take your time

Far too long - P. Parker (Part 2)

Read Part 1 here

ITS HERE AND I’M SUPER NERVOUS. I FEEL LIKE I RUSHED THE ENDING BUT I ALSO FEEL LIKE IT WOULD BE A FLURRY OF PENT UP WORDS AND EMOTIONS. I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT AND IF ITS BAD THEN LMK AND ILL APOLOGISE SINCERELY BECAUSE I’M SCARED OF THIS HAHAHA

(gif is not mine)

TW: Mentions of blood, grief, injury, abandonment, fear, angst, childbirth. If any of these themes may trigger you then, please, do not read for your own good. Your wellbeing is far more important.

My inbox is always open.

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

It would be a lie to say that Peter hadn’t been in horrible situations before. However, with the development of his powers came the growth of thicker skin and stronger shoulders to bear the weight of his choices and others.

He fought, day after day, to withstand everything life threw at him. Heartache, mistakes, the one time he frosted the tips of his hair when he was 12 - Y/N knew that he would be alright.

He had to be alright. He had to be alive. She needed him. They needed him.

Y/N had watched him grow as a man, and watched him overcome everything. Then he was finally hers. She had everything she had ever wanted in him, and she was going to bring new life into the world with him by her side, until the missions came between them.

Now, she had been away from him for over 2 months and he was missing in action. Every news station was reporting that he was gone, but she refused to accept it. She knew Peter. She knew the strength he had. She knew that no matter what, he wanted to be a part of his baby’s life.

The minute she saw the broadcast her shaking fingers dialed Tony’s number and he was there to take her to the compound as soon as he could be.

Another three months passed.

Three agonizing months.

She gave birth in the medical bay of the compound, May by her side, welcoming her daughter into the world with a broken heart

Rosie May Parker was welcomed into the world, but the one person who was meant to be there wasn’t. She had her fathers eyes, his ferocious brown curls - but she didn’t have her father.

Y/N didnt have much knowledge of science outside of her computer mechanics degree, nor did she have any means to be a powerful superhero like the avengers, but she had fierce determination. Tony had ordered her to stay at the compound until they found peter - he was also determined that his faux-son would be okay.

Y/N harbored no intentions of leaving, more so, now that Rosie had joined her. May was there as well, watching Y/N fall in love with the small child over and over again, every day, helping where she could.

It was when they neared the day that her daughter would turn two months old, that it all happened.

Y/N had taken up residency in the lab. She was a computer science major at university, and she was able to pick up the workings of the technology Tony and Bruce utilized to keep track of mission data and surveillance measures for MIA operatives. She had spent nearly every day that she had been there inspecting every program, every website, keeping track on news outlets.

The world said that Peter was dead, but she refused to give up. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. Spider-Man wouldn’t submit.

If her eyes weren’t glued to a screen, they were on her daughter, both keeping her connection to peter alive. She monitored his Karen program for any inconsistencies, any sign that the program was online.

Karen had been offline for so long. The minute the building went down on Peter, the only thing letting Y/N and Tony know that he was alive was gone with it.

Rosie would sleep soundly in a bassinet set up next to her chair. There was a strain in Y/N’s head that hadn’t waned for weeks. Each day her head felt heavier, the harsh blue lights from the computers creating a constant reminder of her naive determination.

She was beginning to consider the possibility that he was gone, but something always made her thoughts shift in the other direction whenever the idea graced her cortex.

Her days had been filled with bouts of despondency, but the small babe that she cradled against her chest throughout the day brought light back into her life.

But still, nothing

Not until that day.

Rosie was sleeping in her crib I’m their room, recently fed, changed and cuddled - Friday monitoring the baby in all of the ways that the baby monitor she had with her couldn’t. The clock had just hit 2:38am and her eyes were heavy. She considered submitting to the crushing weight of her exhaustion, until Tony burst into the laboratory with Bruce and Natasha in tow, the woman suited up and heading towards the hallway leading to the quinjet hangar.

“Tony?” Y/N blinked, eyes darting to the baby monitor to determine if the commotion was linked to her daughter. Rosie hadn’t moved, her small chest rising and falling with each breath. “What’s wrong?”

Bruce had rushed over to the computer she was sat at, rebooting various programs that Y/N could barely recognize in her bleary state.

A vein in Tony’s forehead protruded - a clear sign that his stress levels were at a high. Bruce had been attempting to monitor his blood pressure as of late, knowing that his anxiety had been peaking with the disappearance of two of his team members.

Y/N had felt a overwhelming sense of duty to the man who had taken her in. She wanted to calm him, help ease his worries as he had done for her. He was as much family to her as he was to Peter.

His brown eyes were frantic, but there was something else hidden in the warm irises that seemed constantly framed by bloodshot sclera. Hope.

“Take off in 30, Nat.” Bruce spoke through an earpiece, connecting directly to the quinjet she assumed the Russian was boarding.

Y/N focused her gaze entirely on Tony, rising to her feet carefully and stepping towards him slowly, as one would a spooked animal.

The minute she was within arms reach, his hands were grasping her shoulders. There was no pressure under his hands, but there was comfort. “A few minutes ago, a transmission came through.” Y/N felt her eyes widen, mind racing with possibilities. The smile she received from the older man told her everything she needed to know before the words left his lips. “Pete came though. He’s with Barton, they’re safe. Romanoff’s on her way to pick them up.”

Y/N was in disbelief, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, “The building,” she breathed. “It came down on them-“

“The kid will explain when he gets here.” His hands moved to her cheeks. “He’s coming home, Y/N. For the most part, he’s alright. I got his vitals from the Karen program and he is stable, may need some work when he gets home, but he is okay, physically.”

Tears slipped from her eyes, running down Tony’s fingers but he paid it no mind. The smile that split his face was enough of a pardon.

It was another two hours until the familiar sound of the quinjet hangar opening graced her ears.

Bruce had ordered her to get some rest while they waited, but she opted to spend the time watching her daughter. Rosie had woken for a feed, but her big brown eyes stared up at her mother with a knowing look. Y/N could do little to push down the excitement of Peter’s return, but the overwhelming fear quickly resurfaced.

They left on horrible terms. They were no longer a couple, nor did she have the chance to take back the horrible things she said about his faithfulness to their family dynamic. But there was a lingering part of her mind that pushed her to think he would want nothing to do with them.

She left her room, placing a kiss to Rosie’s forehead and asking Friday to keep a watch of the baby, clipping the monitor to her waistband and rushing for the laboratory.

She arrived in time to see the compound medical staff trailing alongside a stretcher, Barton sprawled on it with a smirk on his face and an IV cannula in his arm.

Moments later she saw him.

He looked as much a mess as he felt, he knew so. Soot and dirt coating his skin and his suit, his leg aggravated and aching from an incorrectly set break. He hadn’t expected to see her face, but when he did, it felt as if a building was falling down on him once again.

She caught his eyes darting down to her stomach then back to her face. She smiled at him softly with a nod, hoping he could grasp her meaning across the meters between them.

She hadn’t the chance to say a word to him, nor he to her. Bruce led him to the medbay, offering support where he could for the pain in Peter’s leg, and Tony went to Y/N, cradling her as the pent up grief escaped through her eyes. She wanted to follow after him, so badly.

Tony held her against his chest, sharing the grief that had been building over the months. They were beginning to think they had lost Peter, but to see him alive and standing in front of them - it was overwhelming for both.

“I, uhm,” Tony cleared his throat, his voice wet from tears. “I’m gonna go help Bruce out. I’ll send for you when he’s all fixed up. I promise.”

With a nod of her head, Y/N let him go.

Minutes after, Friday alerted her that Rosie was awake and she took her leave to sit with her baby.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she cradled the babe to herself. She had decided that even if Peter didn’t want to see her, she would at least hand Rosie over to Tony to introduce father and daughter. Despite her previous words, she just knew that Peter would be entirely smitten with the small human, just as much as she was.

As such, it came as a surprise when Friday chimed through her P.A. System requesting her presence at the medbay.

Her feet shuffled to stop at the door for the room they were in before she knew it, and Tony had opened the door to allow her entrance. He and Bruce took their leave, allowing the former lovers to have the space to themselves.

Peter felt the air drain from his lungs and he looked at her. He had sat up on the bed, leg bandaged and healing at an accelerated rate now that it had been set correctly. He was bruised and battered but he still smiled wider than he had in so long when he saw her and the small bundle she cradled.

She was the first to speak, “You’re alive.” Her voice was choked. The past months had been hard on him, but he couldn’t imagine the pain she felt thinking he was dead. Especially when they left things so horribly.

“The building... it wasn’t meant to go down like that,” he sighed, his smile shrinking. “I took most of the brunt because I can handle more than Clint. But we managed to get out and get our target... eventually.”

His eyes were darting to the bundle in her arms, but he didn’t dare to say anything about he baby. At this point, he didn’t even know his baby’s name.

Y/N noticed his gaze, and the unspoken question that his eyes held. Without warning, she took a seat next to him on the bed, unwrapping Rosie and placing her in Peter’s arms. She silently adjusted his hands to ease his fear and discomfort in holding an infant, and she could see the emotion forming in his chocolate orbs.

“Her name is Rosie.” Y/N whispered, eyes stuck on her daughter. “Rosie May Parker.”

“You named her after ‘Love, Rosie’,” he smiled, feeling a tear slip down his cheek. He had a daughter, and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“It’s my favourite book. Two best friends who fell apart, only to come together and repeat it until they could finally be together.” Her fingers fiddled in her lap, picking at her cuticles. Her body was alight with nerves, her toes electric within her boots. “And I had to name her after May. She’s the only mother I have.”

“Rosie,” he tried the name on his tongue, noticing the way the baby scrunched her nose in her sleep. Her mother did the same thing.

Y/N sighed deeply, breathing out through her nose as she held back tears. “Peter, I’m so -“

“You have nothing to apologise for, Y/N.” He ran his finger over Rosie’s cheek. So soft, scared to stir her from her sleep. “Everything that happened, happened because of me.”

“Peter-“

“My list of discretions are unending. What kind of fiancé was I?” He let a soft chuckle fall from his lips, a humorless one, soaked from the sob he refused to let rip from his chest. “What kind of father was I? Who did I think I was, to keep you waiting on me, day after day. Every important event, I missed.”

“I never meant to say those things to you, Pete. To accuse you of not loving me, not wanting to be a father... it was uncalled for. But,” she sniffed, turning her head upwards to gaze at the ceiling. “I felt so alone. And then, you left, and I was alone.”

After what felt like eternity, his eyes met her face. Her skin was blotchy from tears, eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed. She was the most beautiful thing he had seen, apart from the angel in his arms. He felt almost complete, with the two girls by his side. His heart hurt a little less.

“I know. I’m probably the biggest jackass on the face of the planet, and I know that I can most likely do nothing to change that. It’s far too late for me to even begin to say the things I have wanted to say, but I can’t stand the thought of another day without telling you what’s been on my mind since the minute I left.” His body shuddered with a heavy breath, his lips kissing the small fist that rose towards his mouth as Rosie stretched in her sleep. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember. Every second I was away, I wanted nothing more than to run home and apologize for every disgusting thing I had said to you, to put my hands on your belly and promise our baby that I would never leave either of you.

“Then the building went down. I helped Clint get out, but I was stuck there for a few days. Some of our operatives were working as hard as they could to find a way to clear the debris so I could go, but it took a while. The entire time, I had convinced myself that I would never be able to see you again. It was like, like, I knew, that I couldn’t breathe until I saw you again.”

Her hand moved slowly, resting against his cheek to thumb away a tear that trailed his smooth skin.

“I didn’t know how many months had passed while I was gone, but when I got out from under the building, I realized that you were all alone to have our baby.” The sob finally broke through his chest. “I left you all alone. The small little baby that would see the world for the first time without their father.” He rubbed the side of his face onto his shoulder to not drop tears onto Rosie. “I’m a horrible father. I was so horrible to you.”

His breaths were staggered, and Y/N took the baby from his arms holding her against her own chest as she pressed her body to his side. Her free hand turned his face toward her own, but he kept his eyes squeezed shut, tears flowing rhythmically.

“I love you so much, Y/N, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise you,” he caught the way her hand tightened on his arm as he spoke. She was terrified of losing him again. “I would do anything, anything at all, to have you forgive me, but if you can’t then I understand. Just don’t make me leave your life, please.”

She felt her breath hitch, “I said horrible things to you. I told you to never come back, but I can’t stand another day without you. I need you here, with us. We need you Peter, like I told you all those months ago.” She felt his lips kiss the palm of her hand, the same one she used to brush away his tears. “I love you so much, and I don’t want you to leave. Ever.”

He pressed his forehead against hers, his lips pouting from the strength it took to resist pressing his mouth on hers. He didn’t know if she would welcome the contact. He had done her wrong.

“I’m not leaving you anymore, baby. I’m not leaving either of you, ever again.”

Y/N knew that Peter would be alright. His resilience was unmatched, his love ferocious. Y/N had began to think she would never see him again, but the image of him perched in front of her, eyes locked on the child that looked so much like him was one that she would never forget.

The tears falling were no longer out of fear, or sadness, or anger. Her tears fell out of love and happiness. She had the final piece of her family back, and she would do everything she could to see the two people in front of her smile.

“I’ve been far away, for far too long, baby. I’m never leaving you again. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you and Rosie. I’ll make you Mrs. Parker and buy a house in the suburbs and do everything boring house husbands do,” Y/N snickered, forehead still against his. Peter was rambling, but she knew she would never force him to give up what he loves, so long as he came home to his two girls at the end of the day. “I will love you, both, until the day I die and beyond that.”

She leaned her head forward slowly, allowing him to reject her intentions, but when he didn’t, she poured her emotions from the last half year into the kiss. The love, the fear, the anger, the uncertainty.

When they broke apart, one thing was on her lips, “I love you, Peter Parker.”

Tag List: @starshonerose @snookiebrookie @mantlereid @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3 @another-lonely-heart

@uwucorpse @timeless-crow @eridanuswave @prettysbliss @amydancypants @allycat449-blog

[bubblyani]

Bail Out : 01

(Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A Bruce Wayne Multi-Chapter Series

Chapter 01: The Bruiser

Summary: One fateful, drunken night gets you arrested for assault. However, once you get bailed out by Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne, surprising obstacles get in the way, forcing you to question all your choices in life, career, and in love. 

Word Count: 4700

Rating: Mature

Warning: Swearing and Hints of Blood and Violence

Author’s Note: Initially wanted to write a One Shot, but had more ideas to possibly expand. And thanks to @kittenlittle24​ ‘s encouragement, I was confident to continue this as a Series. This was soo much fun to imagine and write. It really was. Will do my best to make this a series you all can love. Enjoy!

Gotham City, never was it a fanatic of resting, especially when it came to crime. “Anyone out for a coffee run?” 


Thus, it was suffice to say the Law Enforcement of the City was never privileged with the gift of resting either. Even during the wee hours of the morning. Crime was detained, ranging from the highest risk to the mundane. Regardless, they were all crimes. 
 “...Anyone?”
 Officer John Blake of Gotham Police repeated his inquiry, scanning the other officers in the precinct. Buzzing like bees, all seemed quite occupied in their own matters. 
 “I’ll do it…” Officer Nina Langdon got up from her desk, answering with a smile. The way her pupils dilated, her secret attraction for the other young officer was quite evident. 
 Finally catching a whiff of enthusiasm, John’s eyes glinted with a hint of sincere gratitude. Standing next to him, Langdon began her query at everyone: “How about a new place today?”

The buzz, it continued. No one really seemed to bother with an answer.

“Try Commons Cafe! They have great coffee for an affordable price!”

Suddenly the buzz seemed nonexistent, when everyone’s heads indiscriminately turned upon hearing a voice. A female voice which was unfamiliar, yet professional. And to their surprise, it was traced all the way back to the nearest holding cell.

Taking a gander at their expression, the owner of that voice seemed unaffected. 
“You’re welcome…” She added coolly, returning her gaze back to the wall before her. Highly amused, Officer Blake chuckled. Deeply curious, Officer Langdon leaned over to Blake.
 “What is she in for?” She asked in a low voice. “Assault…” John answered, opening the file that rested on his neatly arranged desk. His answer certainly made the red headed officer raise her eyebrows. 
“Anything serious?” She was certainly inquisitive. He shook his head. 
“Nah…” he replied,  “Just a rough night, I guess” he added, turning back to the woman sitting in the cell.

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

It was never intentional, but you just could not help overhear their discussion. And Officer Blake was right: Last night was indeed a very rough night. 


Trying to catch a wink of sleep in the cell seemed impossible for you. For you were not at comfort. Let there be no misunderstanding, for the environment was not to blame at all. You scoffed to yourself.You were no princess, seeking any luxury. It was just that your damned humbleness got in the way with the most mediocre excuses. Like, your tight skirt riding up every time you made an attempt to lie down, for instance. You did not want to make a scene by showing any unwanted skin.

That’s right. That damned humbleness.

And the throbbing pain in your right hand did not seem to help either.

Yes, your right hand with your knuckles, all bruised and bloody.

Sleep deprived, and slightly wounded, your body was in a state of confusion. You literally felt your eye lids grow heavy, as if your eyelashes held on to weighty dumbbells in the gym, and they kept doing down. Squinting your eyes, you made your most dire attempt to stay awake. You resorted to methods a many. Pinching your own cheeks, slapping them with no shame. All until you were sober once more. You sat there, with your legs bouncing about as you stared at the wall. 


Every other corner in the station seemed to have a dose of color. Even it was dull or depressing. The wall on the other hand, was white, was empty.
 Thus, it was no surprise that you picked up a brush, and proceeded to paint out the scene over that white wall of your mind.The scene that haunted you on a constant loop, all throughout the night. 


For everything was ever so clear.

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

(Last night)


With single stroke of your mind brush, the white canvas of the wall altered into the surroundings of a luxurious hotel.


A jazz melody, simple yet effective. It lingered in the piano keys, amplifying its effect on to every living being in the area. The musical sounds infused with the subtle shushes of the small water fountain placed in the midst of the restaurant. Occupants of class and formal attire were of abundance, out to play on a Friday night. 


And in the bar lounge in the corner, there was you, sitting on one of the barstools with your phone pressed against your ear. It was no call, as you listened to a voice message. The manner in which your eyes were closed, in which your temples had tightened, it was evident to any observer that you were listening to what you dreaded.

“Sorry sweetie!” The voice of Allison, your roommate flowed into your ear: “ I forgot that Mattie was having a Birthday bash for his friend, so I promised to help out with the party blah blah blah...you know the deal…But anyways, I can’t make it for drinks tonight. I’m so so sorry, roomie! Please enjoy yourself! And hey! who knows! Maybe you’ll get to work on ya flirtin’ tonight. Sorry again…Bye!” 
 As the message ended, a scoff was all you could let out. “Trust me…” You muttered to yourself, looking at the phone, “Flirtin’s the last thing on my mind tonight”.

With one hand lifted up, you turned your gaze over to the bartender nearby. Your empty cocktail glass appearing so lonely beside you.  

“Whiskey, please” You requested, lips forming a sad smile.Taking the glass away, bartender nodded with a hint of concern. 


You sighed heavily, before taking a sip from your glass. Work had certainly drained you. It drained you like an insect being drained lifeless by a spider. With eyebrows raised, you slightly shook your head at yourself. That was an inaccurate comparison for that may not be an exact fact. Yet, it was how you felt: Drained lifeless. And here you presumed blowing off steam with your roommate would help you cheer up. But truthfully, that was not the case. It was not what you wanted in the end of the day. Drowning one’s exhaustion in a splash dip of alcohol seemed apt. At least, you’ll drop dead on your bed without hesitation. You will sleep faster. And waste the weekend away. 


As the effect of the hard liquor began to spread all over your system, you felt compelled to take off your high ponytail. You were desired by your own conscience to let your natural tresses rest easy on your head. 


“Oh! Save me the High Road Bullshit! You’re just like the rest of them SCUM!”

A voice, quite enraged reached out to your ears from afar. It cut through all the superficial chatter a few feet in between. Given the tone, You involuntary rolled your eyes.

“Someone’s not having the best day, huh?” You said to the bartender. “Yeah…looks like it” the man replied, whilst wiping the table. Sipping the whiskey, you resumed in indulging on the burning sensation you felt on your tongue.

Yet, regardless of your attempt to steer your ears away, the awkwardness could not be avoided. Especially when someone had the decency to have a tantrum on these marbled floors.
 “Name one good thing Wayne Enterprises have ever done to the people of Gotham.Can anyone name ONE THING? I DON’T THINK SO…”

Now, you had to look up. Why on earth would he say something of the sort? Head unturned yet up, you paid close attention to the voice from the distance. Glancing upon the bartender’s expression, it was certain your face did not look happy at all. What was the other’s reply? You longed to hear it.But it was too soft. 
 “That’s right! It’s nothing but a HEARTLESS company with HEARTLESS people in it” Your eyebrows furrowed, tightly. This person certainly had the nerve. As much as this slowly turned your stomach, you silently convinced yourself it was not your place to interfere, nor to even be affected. 
“You know what?” The man continued loudly, “It’s a darn shame Joe Chill didn’t finish the job…He should have gotten rid of the entire Wayne family”

A loud thud! erupted from your fists as they landed on the table with such force. So much so, even the bartender clutched on to his wiping cloth with fear. “That’s it…” You muttered through gritted teeth. Gulping down the rest of your whiskey, you decided this was definitely your place to be affected. 
 “Yes! That’s right.” The man began to mock, “Thomas, Martha....and little Bruce Way-”
 “YOU!” Silence suddenly fell over the entire floor by the power of your voice. Even the piano stopped. Turning from your barstool, You heard yourself bellow: “You Take that BACK!!!”

Fueled with rage, you knew it was definitely your place to interfere.

Sliding off the stool, you quickly spotted him. The middle aged man was quite easy to make out by the fountain, due to his dramatic expression of embarrassment. All eyes were on you as your heels clicked sharply walking over to him in speed. He was the only one you could spot among the two conversing parties, and that was enough for you. Frankly you did not care. Though you were at your fullest rage, weaponized with clenched fists, the man looked at you with mere inferiority.

“Don’t you DARE say things like that!”

You yelled, pointing your index finger at him. The man laughed mockingly, which amplified heavily with all the dense fog of silence.

“Why?” He asked, “What are you gonna do?” He jeered, “Threaten m-OW!”

Gasps exited everyone’s lips in unison. Right when you cut him off with your right fist landing hard on his face. The punch was far from skilled, yet it managed to spill some blood, it was difficult to trace its origin. You felt pain, that was for sure. 
 “You take that back! I mean it” You spat out those words, which were akin to fire. Eyes squinting, the man scrunched up his bloody nose. 
 “Wha-? OWW!!”

This time it was your right knee that made an appearance. Greeting his nose violently with a kick, your knee brought out a popping sound, causing the others to gasp and scream in fear.

“ARGH! MY NOSE!” He cried out with agony. 
 “SECURITY!” 
The cries of the Floor Manager finally brought you to the realization of the surprising consequences of your pure rage. Lifting your hands up quickly with a sigh, you surrendered yourself as the security staff surrounded you. The bystanders watched you with disbelief. Some with mixed emotions, while others purely had taken a side in this altercation. The Security found it strange when you voluntarily placed the hands behind your back for their convenience. For you were no fool. You were screwed.

“Gentleman! Gentleman! Let’s take it easy on the lady, shall we?”

A voice so smooth and undeniably familiar tickled your ears. Turning back, you gasped. For you finally laid eyes on the other party. The man who was insulted. The man you involuntarily fought for:

Bruce Wayne, in the flesh. 
 With a tall, beautiful blonde woman wrapped around him, he was as powerful as he could be. Besides, the beautiful couple exuded pure regality. And that was when you felt completely underdressed. Why wouldn’t you be? Your silk shirt, tucked in your high waisted skirt paired with a jacket made you look so meager. While the blonde woman gave you a nasty look, Wayne seemed quite concerned in contrast. Embarrassment finally came over you when you were aware of the fact he just witnessed your rage. And how he was witnessing your messy state, which included the literal blood and sweat and disheveled hair. 
“I’m truly sorry, Mr.Wayne” The manager said, “…but our restaurant doesn’t tolerate violence” You were so tempted to scoff. And you did, out loud. “Wow! wow!” You cried out with irony, turning to the manager in your handcuffs, “So violence is not tolerated, but verbal abuse is?…” you inquired, motioning to the deserving bleeding man, “Unbelievable!”

“Security! Please escort her out!” The manager was certainly not pleased with your behavior nor your tone. 
“YES! Get that woman out of here!” The rude man cried out, still covering his nose, “I’ll do you one better…I’m…I’m calling the police” he said, taking his phone out from his pocket.

You shook your head with disappointment, still feeling the alcohol linger in you as you were easily pushed out of the premises. Averting your eyes, you were relieved to leave. For you did not want to be in the midst of everyone’s judgment, most certainly his.

You heard the soothing words of the management comfort the customers in muffled tone as your footsteps got closer to the exit.

“What the hell happened, miss?” The big, tall security officer inquired with genuine curiosity. As if he felt guilty of apprehending you, “Why would you get so riled up about Wayne Enterprises anyways ?”
 Sighing heavily, you looked over to him.

“It’s because I work there...” 


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

(Present)


Completing the imaginary painting for the 20th time, you finally looked down. The right side of your skirt was stained with dried up blood. Your knuckles shared the resemblance, except there were cuts as an addition. And holy hell! The stinging was unbearable. You were no fighter. You just experimented fighting in the wrong place, in the wrong time.

Rubbing the top of your nose bridge with your fingers, you sighed. So many sighs today. “Why…why did I do that?” You muttered to yourself. You were never the troublemaker, nor the violent one, so why now? You hoped your convincing voice message would lead to your roommate getting you out. But the way you were ditched tonight, there was no possibility. It seemed quite apt you were to be left there to rot, to regret your actions.

But never did you think you were actually fighting on behalf of Bruce Wayne himself. What were the chances?

The jingle of keys grew prominently louder, amidst the chatter of policemen and civilians. You looked up to see Officer Blake in front of your cell. “Good News…” He said, “Looks like you’ve been granted bail”

Your eyes widened with disbelief. How was it possible? You were only given one phone call. Standing up in an instant, you held on to the bars with your left hand dramatically. “R-Really?” You babbled, “But who?”

The young officer smiled softly. “Best if you see it for yourself” he said, opening the door, “He is waiting outside” 
“H-He?”   You swore you breathed in literal fear, forgetting to even step out.

As you went through the formalities, you could not help but wonder. Could it be that wretched man you injured, had come to rub his power all over your face? Were you to be eternally grateful to him? Feeling sick to your stomach once again, you took slow steps towards the exit, unwilling to see the light of dawn.
 “Ahh! Shit…” You cursed under your breath upon the first glance. It was not that wretched man. It was someone even worse. It was Bruce Wayne.

Taking a deep breath, you looked over at Blake. “Officer…” you began, “Do you have a mint by any chance?”

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

Nothing would strike you as strange more than the fact you saw Billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne standing outside of a Police Station at around 6:30 am. And to bail you out nonetheless. Why? Was it something you should be worried about? You did not know.

For a second, you could not help but stare, especially when he was not aware of your eyes on him. He may have been wearing the same outfit as last night, yet he looked so different. With his tie loosened, hair a tad bit messy and out of sorts, he dipped his hands in his pockets whilst leaning against a black Lamborghini. As much as his sight seemed appealing and lovely on the eyes, it also worried you.

He straightened himself to attention the moment he saw you walk over to him. In the early morning, there was no one else by the pavement to cause a scene. Only the two of you. So finally came the big question: How were you even going to start a conversation with someone like him?

“Firstly,” you began, clearing your throat, “ I have to ask…” He looked at you with curiosity, as you took a deep breath:

“Was your date the Prima Ballerina of the Moscow Ballet?” You asked genuinely.

Bruce chuckled loudly, evident that it was the most unexpected question. But truthfully, it was something that kept you up all night.

He nodded, “Yes”

As much as you were happy to have guessed right, you were even more mortified. You were indeed the villain in the piece. “Oh my goodness,” you exclaimed, “I’m so sorry for ruining your date, Mr.Wayne…”

“Heh…Don’t worry about it” You could not help but realize the gentle nature of his voice. Gentle to the point it could graze over flower petals without causing any harm. But you knew you did not deserve that. Calming down, you averted your gaze down.

“You really didn’t have to do this…”you said, looking around shyly, “Bail me out…I’m sure that awful man-” “Mr.Henderson-” Bruce pointed out. “Right…Mr.Henderson…”you corrected yourself,  “…won’t stop with just getting me arrested…” “Actually, he’s planning to press charges” “What?” Your jaw dropped, “Oh for the love of-” Covering your face with your left palm, you sighed hopelessly. “I’m sorry…” you said, looking up, “This is not professional of me at all. I…” you paused, “I just had a rough night” you admitted with honesty. Instead of driving you deeper with guilt, he just stood there with very little expression on his face. As if to let you recover from your own mess.

“Get in…” He said, a few seconds later as he motioned towards his car. Your eyes widened. “Oh…No! It’s fine, Mr.Wayne, I can get a taxi-”
“I insist…please!” He said, voice still gentle, “You did punch someone in the name of Wayne Enterprises…” he added with a touch of humor.

Finally giving into a chuckle, you nodded in admittance before getting in.

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

You may not have known much about cars, but you certainly knew this one was quite the machine all men would die for. Would not be so surprising to find out the magnetic attraction it possesses. A symbol of power, for sure. 
 Following the first silent minute, you already as if you were robbing of his kindness. As much as the company of a handsome gentleman made you happy, a feeling of guilt was strong enough to conquer all.  

“You know…” you began, “…you can just drop me off at the nearest bus station Mr.Wayne, you’re being too kind” You said with concern. “That won’t be necessary…” Bruce replied, his eyes still on the road as he drove, “Your address is already in the navigator” He said, with his hands on the wheel, motioning to the system screen. You chuckled. Of course, he must have pulled the file on you.

“As someone from HR …I have to say that is a major breach in Employee Privacy” you said, looking ahead whilst attempting to suppress a smile.

“Perks of being the Owner I guess…I suppose you can understand…” Bruce replied, confidence brimming, “And really? You work in HR?” He asked teasingly, “I certainly did not know that…” You laughed instantly. “Now I know you’re lying” “Well…It’s good to know we have a bruiser in HR-” “Oh no…” You cried out frustratingly, “Stop! I beg of you…As if it’s not embarrassing already to be bailed by the owner of the company…” You said, covering your face, “Ow!” You cried out. You seemed to be so accustomed to him, that you were not even aware of your bruised hand, “No…It’s fine…” you said in an instant the moment Bruce looked at your hand with concern. The way he glanced upon you, his silence compelled you to guiltily take off the tissue paper you had used to hide your knuckles. Opening it up, you bit your lip as it stung in contact with the morning chill. “No, it’s not fine…” Bruce said sternly, “...here” And to your surprise, he somehow managed to magically find a place to quickly stop the car.

Oh! Billionaires.

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

Surprises did not cease to exist so soon.

You sat there dumbfounded on the passenger seat, as you watched Bruce Wayne medically treat your right hand. His hands were articulate, cleaning out and disinfecting the skin, before smoothly applying a cooling cream over the bruises on each knuckle. He did it with such focus, you were nothing but entranced by the mere sight. And before you knew it, your hand looked like it was alive once again.

“You’re awfully good at this…” You remarked, watching him wrap a small bandage around your knuckles. The pain in your right hand deprived you the chance to identify and secretly indulge his touch. “Why, thank you…” He answered with a teasing smug. “But that definitely arouses suspicion” You had to respond, smirking with mischief. “Well..You’re awfully observant” He smirked back, as he pulled away. “It’s my job, Mr.Wayne…” You said, watching him put his hands on the wheel,“I’m a Manager in HR. I need to know the staff” you added, leaning back on your seat, “We need to know what they want. What they don’t want, like and dislike”

The car began to growl softly with the start of the engine, and it was on the road once more. With the bandage securely placed, you could move your hand freely again.

“I don’t understand…” Bruce suddenly began, “You seem like a very sensible person…” he continued, “What could possibly drive you to punch a man right in his face?” “I admit…” you began with a deep breath, “It was quite an overreaction…” as the recollection revisited you, “But...I had my reasons…” You spoke with such freedom. “Which are…?” “Mr. Wayne...” you said, as a sudden rush of confidence wore you like a suit, “I’ve been working in Wayne Enterprises for almost 10 years” you looked at him, nodding as his eyes grew wide, “I got my first job here, and I have been working here ever since. I grew up in so many ways thanks to this company. And I know how many people have benefited from it, just like me.”

Tilting your head, your eyes squinted looking forward, “Sure, the management had a bumpy road with Mr. Earle. But…” you paused, with a chuckle, “ I guess I’m too loyal to leave. Besides, with you finally getting ownership, and Mr. Fox being CEO, I’m liking the direction this company is heading…” You said with a smile, “But…loyalty and alcohol… does not go well together, I realized” you admitted, keeping one’s fingers on your chin.

Bruce chuckled. You felt proud to humor him. However, a part of you suddenly wondered if this honesty of yours was going to cause any judgement in him. “Please know that as a professional, I do not condone my actions…” You stressed out. “But...personally…?” “No regrets whatsoever…” You answered immediately,  “That gentleman had it coming…”. Gasping, you covered your mouth, “Wow!…” you giggled, “I’m being too forthcoming now, aren’t I?”

“Looks like it…” With a smirk, Bruce looked at you. For a split second, you could relate this to two old friends, sharing a naughty secret. Who knew that Bruce Wayne was just like any other man you knew, except with a bit of specialty blessed in him.

Yet, still you looked at him pleadingly. “Forgive me…Oh!” You exclaimed, the moment you realized the surroundings suddenly grew familiar. The Lamborghini was already in your neighborhood. Finding a space to his luck, he finally parked. Before unbuckling the seatbelt, you savored the moment. Turning to him, you looked at him for a few seconds. Noticing your stare, his eyebrows were raised:

“Are you by chance, doing your job?” He asked teasingly, looking your way, “Being observant?” 
 Taking a whiff of his cologne was unintentional, yet necessary.

“No…” You answered, shaking your head, “Just…taking one last look at you. Just...imprinting the image in my memory, as you might call it…” you chuckled, moving your hands over your head, “I’m sorry but…It’s very rare for people like me to even meet Bruce Wayne in person.” You added, “And it’s highly unlikely that I will ever see you again”.

Opening his mouth, Bruce produced no sound. And just like that, he quickly closed it. You smiled, lightly bowing your head with respect. Why you did it, you did not know.

“Thank You, Mr.Wayne…” you began, “...for everything” you added, showing your hand.

The very moment you got out of the car, and walked around to reach the pavement, a pang of unhappiness came over you. A sense of chill suddenly pushed the sense of warmth away. You did not know why exactly.  

But you froze, as Bruce Wayne suddenly called out your name with formality. Turning back to face him, you were more than eager: “Yes?” With the window fully open, he put his head out to take another look at you. Possibly a few years older than you, he certainly was handsome with the morning light shining over him, you realized. “Never underestimate the power of probability…” He said. You folded your arms, suppressing a smile. “You’ll have to be more specific” you replied. He smiled back softly. “We will see each other again…” He said, with confidence. Your arms loosened upon hearing it, and that swell of unhappiness, that chill suddenly disappeared into thin air. Leaving enough room for the warmth to creep back in. This time, the warmth was strong enough to glaze your heart.

Still smiling, Bruce gave a small wave. “You take care now” he said, to which you nodded.   “I will…Thank You” You said, watching the Lamborghini slowly take off. Your eyes followed it until the sight of it grew small to the size of a pea. Moving your head, you quickly spotted the figure of Allison walking down the street towards you, with a dropped jaw. Relieved to see her without any hangover, you smiled at her. 
 “Was that Bruce Wayne?” Allison asked, pointing at the now non-visible car, “THE BRUCE WAYNE?” She squealed. “Yep…” “Damn! He looks good.” She said deliciously, only to gasp soon after, “Wait! Did he bail you out?” Her face grew concerned seeing your nod, “Oh sweetie…You know I would have bailed you If I had money…I know you’re probably mad at me right now but-”

Where her rambling apology went, you did not know, and did not care. For you were too deep in your own thoughts. That warmth which glazed your heart. You have only felt it a few times before. Recalling the times, was when you finally realized the unthinkable.

“Fuck!” You breathed. Allison looked at you with shock, “Excuse me?” “FUCK!” Exclaiming louder, you groaned out with frustration. With your buttocks finally resting on the front steps of your apartment building, you groaned louder. “Shhhhhh!“ Your outright cursing had attracted the attention of a displeased nun, as she passed you by.   “I’m sorry...” Your apology to her was muffled, through your hands over your face. The roommate sat next to you with a worried look. She smelled of perfume and cigarettes.

“Sweetie…” she began, "You gotta tell me what’s going on! You’re freakin’ me out!” She said in a low tone, yet her concern was evident.

“I’m not...” you paused, taking your hands away, “I’m not mad at you…” you said calmly, looking forward “...if that’s what you’re worried about…” You added, “It’s just that…” you sighed, “I’m pretty sure I may have to quit my job…”

Eyes widening, Allison clutched her chest dramatically. “WHAT? But WHY?” “Because....” linking your hands together, you exhaled deeply before turning to her: “I think… I like Bruce Wayne...”

——————————————————

Is your curiousity stirred? Chapter 2 HERE

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[dearest-bucky]

There went my heart (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: A new nurse starts working with the Avengers and she takes an immediate liking to one blue eyed, metal armed super soldier. The best part is that he likes her too. 

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: None, I think.. Fluff

Originally posted:  May 28, 2020

How does one starts working with the Avengers? Or rather for the Avengers, but these are just technicalities, really.  Truth is, she had no idea! It seemed as if she was just a very lucky person. When Tony Stark offered her to be a part of the medical team alongside Helen Cho and Bruce Banner, she wasn't dumb to decline. It's not that she wasn't happy working as a nurse in one of the many hospitals of New York, but being able to work with the Avengers themselves, was really something else. And she couldn't wait to meet them all and introduce herself.

On the first day of her new job, most of the team was away on a mission, so she only met with the other nurses and lab assistants. She was walking around the med bay, getting familiar with her surroundings when one of her new colleagues, a dark haired nurse named Jessica, called her from the door of the lab.

"Come on Y/n, we have to get ready. The team will arrive in 30 minutes and Captain Rogers informed us that they need medical assistance. Several team members were injured in this one." As the other woman finished speaking she ran towards the infirmary room to prepare for their arrival.

No longer than the 30 minutes Captain America had informed, several people came barreling through the doors of the infirmary. A red head woman that she recognized as Black Widow was leaning heavily on Steve Rogers' shoulder, one of her hands putting pressure on her side. One of the nurses moved quickly towards them to assist. Following was Sam Wilson, walking alone but with a small limp and just a black eye. He seemed to keep himself up fine, but another nurse ran to him too, tending to whatever little wound he had. Sitting in a chair to let the nurse do her job, his voice a little gruff as he spoke. "Someone check on Bucky, a bullet pierced his shoulder through."

She turned her head towards the door where Bucky had entered last, a scowl on his slightly pale face, but Y/n couldn't help but see that he was in fact a very handsome man, despite his current state. No camera, no matter how advanced its lenses were, could ever do justice to that man's beauty.

Next to her, she felt Jessica go stiff and shift her feet slightly, but not daring to move. Y/n was thinking she'd be the one to take care of him since she'd been working in the compound longer than she had, but seeing the other woman had no intention of leaving her spot, her professional training kicked in and before she knew it, Y/n was walking towards Bucky where he had already taken a seat in one of the cots.

His shoulders were slumped and his head was hanging low, so she carefully cleared her throat to make herself present. She didn't want to startle him or hurt him in any way, so with a soft voice, she spoke up. "Hello Sergeant Barnes, can I take a look at your shoulder?"

At the sound of her voice, he picked his head up to look at the person who was talking to him and he was surprised to see a young woman standing so close to him, he had no idea how she had gotten this close without him noticing. Her light skin complexion, illuminating more under the artificial lighting made her looked like an angel. Yeah, Bucky was surprised, but good surprised. He only nodded his head, not trusting his voice to speak up, but that was all she needed to begin working. Her touch was light as a feather as she cut his shirt to take care of his wound. He noticed she was careful as she touched him, almost cautious, but it wasn't because she was scared of him, not at all. She just didn't want to inflict him any more pain that he was already enduring, and that warmed his heart like nothing and no one had done in decades.

His eyes were glued to her face as she worked, the tip of her tongue poked out in concentration as she tended to his wound and Bucky thought she was nothing short of adorable. He was lost in thoughts of her and he didn't even feel her cut the thread as she finished sewing his wound. She put a clean bandage on it and with a small smile playing on her lips, she spoke up again. "I'm done."

Bucky moved his eyes to look anywhere but her face as he mumbled a "thanks" and a blush crept up his neck and cheeks in an instant. He felt as if she had caught him daydreaming about her; in fact he'd been so lost in his head he hadn't even felt the needle pierce his flesh at least a dozen times as she sewed him up. But could anyone blame him for losing his mind when she stood so close to him looking like an angel?

It was later that day when the Avengers were all cleared from the med bay and sent to bed rest, after cleaning and putting things back to place, that she had a chance to sit for a few minutes to catch a breath. Jessica sat in the chair next to her, her hair a little disheveled from the many times she'd carded her fingers through it. She let out a sigh before speaking. "So, how was your first day? Were your expectations for this job met?"

Y/n let out a small chuckle at her questions. "It was great really. I mean, working with superheroes is really something. But I loved it. I'm happy to be here." She said sincerely.

"Yeah, about that. You were really brave to walk up to Barnes today." At that, the smile that was playing in Y/n's lips dropped in a second, only to be replaced with a small frown, a crease forming between her brows. She waited for Jessica to continue speaking, to explain what she meant, so she silently tilted her chin up to nudge her to speak again. "It's just that he's kind of scary, you know..." She started and Y/n's brows only furrowed more. "You know of his past, right? You know what he has done, everyone knows. Plus he's always wearing a scowl on his face, as if he hates everyone around here. None of the nurses work with him, only dr. Cho or dr. Banner take care of him when he comes in."

Y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. He was still being judged for his past, for something that wasn't his fault at all.  She knew he was a victim just like every other person he'd been forced to hurt and kill. She scoffed in annoyance at her co-worker's words, the other woman's eyes widening in surprise at the reaction.

"I can't believe you're saying this. None of that was his fault, you know that, everybody knows that. Yet here you are, judging him for something he had no control over. He's a war hero, you know. He gave his life for this country once and he's doing it again everyday he goes out on a mission, just like the rest of the Avengers are." A fire was ignited in her chest, a strong desire to defend the man and that's what she was doing. She would defend him in front of the whole world, she decided right then and there, if it was needed. "You should be happy to have the honor of taking care for him afterwards, not talk behind his back."

Jessica only lowered her head, in shame or something else, Y/n couldn't tell, but she was glad to have given her a piece of her mind, plus it made her shut her mouth. She got up from the chair and took off her white coat, her job for the day being finished. She was ready to go back home and get a good night's sleep after a really active first day.

The next couple of months passed in a blur, really. Everyday she'd get up and go to work, weekends too.  After all, there are no weekends off from saving the world. Doctor Banner was kind enough to give her a day off every week, but most of the time she refused because she had no better place to be.

During this time, Bucky would enter the med bay more times than she could count, but she never complained anyway. His presence was always welcome to her, and if it was up to her, she'd be happy to have him there every day. Just to see him. Most of the time he came in with the pretense to see Bruce, others he'd be back from a mission with several cuts and bruises that Y/n was always ready to tend to.

She was conversing to one of the other nurses, listening to the other woman talk about her 14 years old daughter and her challenges as mother of a teenager, when she heard someone clear their throat behind them. She quickly turned her head around, only to be met with Bucky's figure, a sheepish look in his face.

"Hi." She said, a little breathlessly. No matter how many times she saw him, he never ceased to amaze her. He was so handsome she wanted nothing more than to smother him with hugs and kisses every minute of every day. She shook her head lightly as if to get rid of those thoughts and got up to walk to him.

"Hi, doll." He replied and she blushed at the pet name. He'd started calling her that a few weeks ago and now it stuck. And she liked it more when he called her 'doll' than her actual name. Before she could ask him what was he doing there, he showed her his arm, a slash on his bicep and blood dripping down the entire limb.

Her eyes widened at the sight and she quickly grabbed some cotton balls and antiseptic, urging him to sit on one of the chairs before she started cleaning the blood off of his arm. "What happened?" She asked as she wiped the blood, throwing one cotton ball in the garbage can and grabbing another.

"Knife training with Nat, I lost focus and didn't step back in time so she grazed my arm. It was merely an accident." He explained and when the blood was cleaned she could see it wasn't that deep of a cut anyway. She still continued to nurse the cut though, silently dabbing  the cotton and applying an antibiotic ointment as to not get it infected.

"I didn't think a super soldier could lose focus." She replied with a playful smirk on her lips and Bucky smiled down at her.

"I guess there's just a lot in my mind lately." His words were accompanied with a small sigh and she didn't dare ask him more, for fear of overstepping a boundary or something. She finished with his arm and was about to move away, but he grabbed her wrist with his metal hand, preventing her from moving too far.

She turned her head to look at him, a questioning look in her eyes. "Thank you doll." He said simply and she returned his smile with one of her own.

"You're welcome." She replied simply despite his touch causing her entire body to flush with warmth and she tried again to move away from him - suddenly the closeness was too much. He only tightened her grip on her wrist, enough to let her know he didn't plan on letting her go, but not enough to hurt her in the slightest. Her heart was beating fast inside her rib cage and she knew he could hear it too, the thump thump's almost echoing in the otherwise silent room.

She realized then they were alone in the infirmary, the other nurse had left without so much as a word.

She could only stare at his face, his eyes locked to hers, a look she couldn't really place, before he spoke again. "No, thank you Y/n." The use of her name surprised her a little. He hadn't called her that in a while, opting to go for doll instead. "For being so kind to me. Kinder than anyone had been in a long time."

"Bucky..." She wanted to interrupt him, to say something, but he shook his head a little before speaking again.

"Before you, none of the nurses would take care of me, always glancing in my direction in fear and suspicion, as if I'd lash out and go all psycho on them. But then you came, and you walked to me, so soft and caring and with a touch so light I thought you were an actual angel." His words were causing her to blush a deep shade of pink but she didn't dare interrupt him again, scared that if she did all of this would have been a dream, a figment of her imagination.

Without even noticing, the hand that was holding her wrist had moved slightly towards her palm and their fingers were intertwined. She lowered her head to look at their joined hands and a smile formed on her lips, her thumb moving to caress his metal knuckles.

"Doll, forgive me if I'm outta line now but if I don't tell you this I think I'm gonna die in the spot." At that her eyes moved up to meet his expectantly, hopeful. A spark that she'd come to see more and more of lately was glinting in his own eyes and she could only wait for him to continue speaking. That he did. "Ever since the moment I saw you I felt something I hadn't felt in decades and doll I like you so much and maybe all of this is my imagination, but I think that you like me too and I was really hoping you'd want to have dinner with me sometimes?" He finished a little breathless, despite having spoken the words so slow as if he was afraid she'd miss it if he didn't enunciate each one of them.

The smile on her lips kept widening with each passing moment and she squeezed his hand in hers a little before speaking up her answer to him. "Bucky, I'd love nothing more."

A wide smile mirroring hers bloomed on his lips and all he could do was stare at her in admiration, not wanting to ruin the beauty of the moment with any other word or move. After a few minutes in silence, only staring at each other lovingly, Y/n finally found her voice to speak again. "Bucky?"

"Hmm..?"

She cleared her throat before speaking, taking a small moment to muster up the courage to speak the next words, but she couldn't help the blush that deepened in her cheeks as she spoke.

"I was really hoping you would kiss me."

[just-an-aussie-fandom-hermit]

( 2/2 ) i mean if i recall correctly didn't bruce take them in to provide homes for them after they lost their parents & often tried to talk them out of crime fighting even though a lot of them would go off & fight crime on their own accord ( whether he allowed it or not) ?

Anon you’re absolutely right!

(This is a long one so be warned).

He didn’t adopt/mentor the kids with the sole purpose of turning them into child soldiers or abusing them at all. His abusive and neglectful behaviour stands in stark contrast to his personality and moral code; most of these kids came from horrific backgrounds, so he would make himself as welcoming as possible to allow these kids to be kids, like they deserve to be. Vigilantism is their way of taking their life into their own hands and making change. His behaviour is nothing short of contradictory and I despise the various writers who made him that way.

I don’t have any sources/comic panels prepared but I want to answer this anyway:

Dick Grayson had just seen his parents die, and was filled with vengeance — he would have gone after Tony Zucco anyway, better to do it on Bruce’s terms. Also, he had spent several nights in a juvenile centre after his parents died (that’s where he ended up) and was beaten up brutally on basically his first night there. Bruce knew he wouldn’t survive, let alone thrive in the system, so he took him in. Robin was initially meant to be a temporary thing, to take down Zucco as well as his coworkers/superiors in the mob. After an encounter with the Joker in which Dick is bedridden, Bruce fires Dick from being Robin for his own safety. He later becomes Nightwing after going through a personality crisis and wondering who he was without Robin.

Barbara Gordon? She was going to be a crime fighter anyway — like Stephanie (we’ll get back to her) she made her own suit and went out on her own accord. Her dad is the police comissioner, but she recognised that the system wasn’t working — because of the mob, political corruption, police inadequacy and criminal conduct (which was/is the norm anyway), all that wonderful stuff — and felt that she had to do something. Bruce is vehemently against this but after a while he realises “oh god, she’s not going to stop,” and decides that, like Dick, it’s better for Babs to do the vigilante thing on his terms, because he’d spent years training for this, and Barbara was a child/teen.

Jason Todd lived on the streets after he stopped living with his abusive father (Willis) and his deceased, drug addicted mother (Catherine). He just saw a kid who had it extremely rough (homeless, formerly abused), and thought “I already have one child under my care, I can care for another, that’s reasonable.” Making him Robin was not only a constructive outlet for his anger, but also not Bruce’s intention at all. He may have met Jason as Batman, but he did not force the mantle of Robin onto him.

Tim Drake had already been BatWatch for years and had figured out who the Bats actually were. After Jason died, Tim saw how broken, angry and violent Bruce had become and he knew it was only a matter of time before something gave. He literally blackmailed his way into becoming Robin (via Dick, now Nightwing) because “Batman needs a Robin,” and he decided “I might as well be that Robin.” Bruce was incredibly resistant, because his son had just been murdered, and he doesn’t want that to happen to any other child — and he brushes Tim off for a while. When he does become Robin, it’s reluctant. He takes him in not just to him Robin but also because his parents are horribly neglectful (hence why he had so much free time as a child to be BatWatch and such) and only ever showed serious interest in his life while they were grooming him to be CEO of their company or when they felt Bruce was a threat to their parental authority (rightfully so.)

Stephanie Brown’s dad is Cluemaster, a minor villain who thought himself the nemesis of the Riddler (Nigma paid this guy no mind,) and left clues at his crime scenes in a similar manner to Riddler. As such her home life was tumultuous if not outright abusive and neglectful. Her mother (Crystal) is a drug user so she doesn’t spend a lot of time in the house. She created her own identity (Spoiler) to “spoil” her father’s plans and clues so Batman could take him and his buddies down. She comes into contact with Tim (ie. throws a brick at him) and works with the Bats so she wouldn’t get herself killed doing it alone.

Cassandra Cain is the daughter of two of the greatest assassins in the world (David Cain and Lady Shiva) and was never taught any form of spoken or written language. Instead, she learned to read body language and micro-expressions, all so she could become the best possible bodyguard for Ra’s al Ghul (head of the League of Shadows) and an excellent assassin. This backfired, and she ran away after witnessing/committing her first assassination and saw the pain and terror in her target — she spent several years on the run before Bruce found her and took her in. Fighting was all she knew, and she wanted to do the “good” fighting (vigilantism/working with the Justice League) instead of being an assassin. It was a way to reclaim her childhood and to help her create an identity of her own, separate from the League of Shadows.

Duke Thomas? He joined and later lead the We Are Robin movement to defend Gotham in Bruce’s abscence (‘Batman: Endgame’ I think is the storyline). I’m not as familiar with his story but he creates his own vigilante identity, The Signal, after his parents went insane (thanks Joker). He went into foster care while police search for his parents, and did generally did not have a Good Time. At this time, Bruce’s memory of being Batman had been erased, and it was Duke’s sense of justice and need to help others that set him on the course to become Batman again. He was never a Robin, and he works mostly in the daytimes, but Duke Thomas became a Bat of his own accord. Bruce simply brought The Signal under the cape and gave him a support network just as he had done for Babs and Steph (the other self-made vigelantes).

Damian Wayne. Biological son of Bruce and Talia al Ghul. In the current continuity he’s the product of a sexual assault, but either way, his purpose is to become the heir to the League of Assassins and their international criminal empire and shadow governments — he’s a manufactured soldier (hence why you might come across a lot of “test-tube baby” jokes, because he was grown mostly in an artificial womb.) Talia drops him off in Gotham in order to help Damian escape from Ra’s, and Bruce makes him Robin to give him an outlet for his anger and violence — in a non-homicidal fashion. Like Cass, all he knew was fighting and violence, but becoming Robin was a way for him to not only reclaim his lost childhood but also create an identity other than the killing machine he was intended to be.

Harper Row is another child from an abusive household — emancipating herself and her brother Colin from their father, Harper’s skill with engineering gives her the means to become a vigilante (Taser Girl?? I believe). Bluebird is her vigilante alias under Batman (her hair is a magnificent shade of blue) but is currently inactive, focusing on her career and education. Again i’m not super familiar with her character, but that’s the gist.

The important take-away is that these kids chose to become who they are — Bruce didn’t just pick them off the street like “you’re a Robin now have fun sweetie :)”, making them a Bat/Robin was simply a means to help these kids.

[hateswifi]

Making Do (With What Life Give Us): Part 4

So last part, don’t be afraid to talk to me, I love interacting with you all. I hope you enjoyed this short (15k word) fic. Without further ado, I give you Part 4.

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

As her friendship with Adrien grew she realized that he and Chat Noir are the same person. They had kissed during Dark Cupid, turns out they both remember it and found it awkward and decided on being friends. They would have won the gaming competition if Marinette hadn't given her spot up to Max. She had won his father's hat competition without prior knowledge of their friendship, in fact, Gabriel had offered a scholarship which she would have taken if not had it been for her need to disappear to be Ladybug. But she did take commissions from her new uncle, Jagged Stone. Chloe and she had become co-class presidents together again and everyone was quite happy. She also joined them in battle as Queen Bee with the promise of secrecy. Adrien and Chloe had officially unofficially adopted the two blondes into their family. Her parents are super protective over them especially after hearing about their nightly escapades as heroes. As a group, they were close, with the help of her family, to figuring out who Hawkmoth is. 

After an awkward conversation that Marinette did not in fact like Nino more than a friend, he joined the friend group with the later addition of Alya, his new girlfriend. Throughout it all, Damian and her family had started to come to Paris more, thankfully no one from her friends besides Chloe and Adrien had met them. She didn't want to tell Nino and Alya because of the Ladyblog, Alya had a tendency to stretch the truth and to do practically anything to get a good story. She didn't fully trust them and with good reason and it all started at the beginning of her third year in Paris.

A new student joined the class, which would have been fine besides the lies she was constantly telling. "I'll meet you in the park in ten minutes," she had said to Adrien.

"You wouldn't believe what she just said," Adrien snickers to Marinette as she comes out of hiding.

"How'd you know I was there?" Marinette asks, sitting beside him.

"Chloe texted me saying you felt something suspicious about her," Adrien said.

"And with good intention, she's clearly lying," Marinette pouted.

"Obviously, she's best friends with Ladybug even though she just moved here? How does that even make sense?" Adrien asks. "So I'm not saying that you should, but I'm going to meet up with 'Ladybug's best friend' I feel like she would LOVE to catch up with her, don't you think?"

"I'll let you know what my dear friend says," Marinette smirks. Adrien and the rest of her brothers had started to rub off on her.

"I don't recommend it, I would wait to see what she says first," Tikki whispers from Mari's purse. "Or you could interrupt as you depending on what she says."

"We'll see," Marinette said, standing up. As she entered the park she heard the liar talking. 

She coos. "Ladybug isn't even the most powerful hero, it's Volpina, the holder of the fox miraculous." She pauses while she pulls out her necklace. "This is the fox miraculous, it used to be my grandmother's, but she passed it down to me. I let Ladybug have her time to make a name for herself because we're best friends."

"You've been here for like two days," Adrien started.

"And," Marinette says, walking up. "That was a necklace released in Gabriel's last line. Also why would you tell a total stranger about something, 'so important' something that is supposed to be a secret," Marinette said, sitting down beside Adrien.

"Sabine, Tom, and Chloe are waiting at home for lunch, want to come?" Marinette asks Adrien.

"I would love to!" the liar interrupted, standing up.

"And you are?" Marinette asks.

"Sorry Mari, my dad wants me to come home today," Adrien said, standing.

"It's fine, just remember mama and papa would be heartbroken if they don't see you soon," Marinette said walking towards the entrance.

"Hey I've been busy, could you imagine how much more busy I would be if we hadn't threatened to dye my hair?" Adrien laughs, remembering that wonderful weekend.

"What do you mean?" Lila asked, racing up behind them.

"A couple of weeks ago, Adrien wanted to have a sleepover with our friend group, but his dad was being himself and decided that he couldn't," Marinette started, prompting Adrien to finish. "They snuck in through the window with some semi-permanent dye and the dyed my hair lime green. I threatened to shave my head if he kept forcing me to stay in the house."

"You're a bad influence on him!" Lila shouts, grabbing her arm.

"All I'm showing him is that he doesn't have to live his life as a prisoner in his own house," Marinette responds, pulling her arm from Lila's clutch.

"And I couldn't be happier," Adrien says as his car pulls up. "Bye Mari, we still on for after school?"

"Yes, Mama said if you don't learn how to back soon she'll disown me," Marinette laughs, hugging him.

"She can't disown you and even if she did Bruce would be more than happy to take you back," Adrien snickers.

"So are we never going to talk about this again?" Lila asked, the two friends stopping in their tracks.

"As long as you don't lie, we could start a friendship," Marinette smiles. "See you in class, Lila. Welcome to our class." They wave and walk there separate ways.

Stuff started to go downhill from there, Alya and Nino believed Lila lies over Marinette and their friend group them. It was a dark time in Marinette's life, everyone besides Chloe and Adrien. The retaliation that the class set against them was beyond tolerable. Gabriel still made Adrien deal with Lila because apparently 'she is all the rage right now.' Marinette had been more unhappy than usual so Marinette's parents decided that she needed a break from the drama, but on her last day before her vacation when everything went to hell. 

"I can't believe she was even let into this school!" Alya loudly exclaimed during lunch. 

Lila's sniffled, she had been distressed because Marinette 'supposedly' made fun of her for her past, "What do you mean?"

"Well before she became a jealous wench we were best friends, I just so happen to know almost everything about her," Alya snickers.

"What do you mean? She has secrets?" Lila asks, rubbing her eyes to wipe her tears away.

"She used to live in America, where her dad left her before she was born. Her mother was a stripper and died because she couldn't pay for her drugs and was shot," Alya laughs. "She lived on the streets until Sabine and Tom adopted her. Then she became friends with Chloe and Adrien for their money and connection, obviously. She then manipulated Adrien, Lila's soulmate, to hate her."

"I recommend you silence yourself before I break your elbows and give them to Titus," A voice comes from the entry of the cafeteria. "You're saying only the bad, most of them exaggerated and false.

"And you are... someone she paid to pretend to like her?" Lila asked.

"No, she doesn't need to pay me, even if she could she wouldn't be able to. She is my best friend," he said.

"Ummmm... No! I'm her best friend and she's never spoken of you," Alya said, crossing her arms.

"A real friend would check her statements before announcing these lies. Speaking of the Angel, where is she?" he asked.

"You must not be talking about her because she's an actual demon," Lila sniffles. "Have you heard the things she's done to me?"

"And I don't believe you," He said.

"Thanks, Demon. I never needed any of them all I needed was my closest and most trustworthy friends," Marinette said after she had run and hugged him.

"Hey, Angel, it's good to see you again," he said into her hair.

"And who are you, 'Demon', you never answered," Alya asked, putting air quotes around 'Demon'.

"I'm Damian, Marinette's best friend," Damian said, an arm wrapped around her shoulder.

"That's debatable, we both know I'm her better friend," Adrien snickers.

"Nope. I was her first friend," Damian answers.

"But first is the worst, and as being her second friend, I'm the best," Chloe says, smiling.

"Come on guys, you get to spend all the time with me, let me spend some time with Damian. I haven't seen him since Thanksgiving," Marinette says, snuggling into his embrace.

"Good job making the conversation all about you," Lila remarks.

"Whatever... come on let's go to class, the sooner this ends, the sooner I can leave," Marinette says and they turn to walk to class. 

"Who the hell does she think she is?" Lila said, crossing her arms.

"A jealous, psychotic, gold-digging, wench," Alya answers.

"With good tastes though, did you see that hot piece of man that defended her," Lila said.

"Dark and brooding," Alya adds before they head to class. The lesson was normal, glares and disappointing glances sent her way, as she designed. With fifteen minutes before dismissal for the day, a knock came at the door. 

"I'm here for Marinette," Damian said, entering the room.

"Oh thank God, I don't know how much more of this crap I can take," She responds in English. "Bye Chloe, Adrien, love you both, see you next week." She hears her friends respond with a bye as the door closes.

The trip went well and the time was well spent. Marinette released her first line while in Gotham under, the alias she used to be known as, Sunshine. They had a party held in her honor where for the first time ever, she showed her face to the public and the Ice Prince and Princess Sunshine became an official couple. She melted his heart, as said by a majority of the news outlets. 

She had also made a speech at the closing of the ball. "So honestly, I just want to thank Bruce, who was kind enough to foster for me, Damian, who was a supportive food friend turned boyfriend, my brother, Jason, Tim and Drake, who taught me to live my life. Along with my two best friends, who I met in Paris, Chloe Bourgeois and Adrien Agreste. My adopted parents, Tom and Sabine, who only have my best interest at heart. Last but not least I would love to thank my antagonists all my classmates, who I'm too mature to call out by name, especially the liar, you know who you are."

The girls watch in disbelief. Lila was crying actual tears as she saw her lie-kingdom begin to fall. Alya cries as she sees her career end. 

When Marinette returned a couple of days later, Marinette walked into class early, smiling. Alya stood there, arms crossed and glared ready. "You are a petty waste of--"

"I could have been petty and released all your names," Marinette says, trying to walk past the red-head.

"No, that is just common courtesy, it was just petty to bring us up in your lies," Lila said.

"You want to see petty, fine," Marinette said, dropping her bag on Bustier's desk. She pulls out her notebook and rips it.

"So... why should we care," Lila asked.

"That. That right there ripped up and at the bottom of the waste bin is our end of the year trip," Marinette said, pointing to the waste bin.

"You! You petty bitch!" Lila screams.

"Yep, and proud of it," Marinette smiles and takes a seat, but not before placing a stack of papers on their desk.

"Also this is for you," Adrien says, walking into class. He places a stack of papers on Alya and Lila's desk.

"And what are those," Lila says, significantly paler than normal.

"Well from me, those are lawsuits from my parents, Jagged Stone, and the Waynes," Marinette said, smiling as she took a seat.

"Mine is a court-mandated cease and desist order for your Ladyblog, for spreading rumors about the Agreste Brand. For you, Lila, your papers are termination papers, for spreading false rumors," Adrien said.

"W... What, you can't do this the Ladyblog is my life work!" Alya screamed.

"Who cares about you!? My mum is going to send me back to military school if she finds out I got in trouble for lying, please don't do this," Lila exclaimed, falling on the ground.

"I gave you a way out last year, you didn't take it," Adrien said, sitting beside Chloe and Marinette.

"It's all your fault! If you hadn't been such a bad influence on him I could have had it all," Lila screamed, attempting to jump at him.

"Nope! you couldn't have," Damian said entering the room.

"Lila Rossi, you're under arrest for working the terrorist, Hawkmoth and using celebrities' names to get free things," the officer said.

"Damian, what are you doing here?" Marinette asks, standing up to greet her boyfriend.

"Father and I are here on business," he responds hugging her,

"And does any of that business have to do with you helping me?" Marinette asks, smiling into his embrace.

"Some of it the other half was actual, WE work. I'm going to be working in this wing of WE when I graduate," Damian smiles.

"Sounds great, Demon," Marinette says, breaking the embrace to look him in the eyes.

"I can't wait to start this next chapter of my life with you by my side, Angel," Damian said, kissing the crown of her head.

Extra (how Damian realized Marinette was definitely not just a friend):

Marinette had come to the ball (not really party just really big party) wearing a light blue off the shoulder cocktail dress, looking as beautiful as normal. He had been enjoying himself until he saw it. Normally he’s not one to be jealous, but the way she was smiling at this guy was bothering him. Damian found Jason and told him. “I have a suspicious feeling about that guy.”

“Are you it’s not because how he’s making her smile?” Jason asks, nudging him with his elbow. 

“And why would that bother me!” Damian asks. 

“Well remember that time in the gym, right after Marinette became Ladybug and you found out she had a partner,” Jason asks, Damian gave a nod, yes. “Well today could be that day. The longer you wait the less chance you have with her.” He finishes before walking away. 

Extra (how they became a couple):

He was utterly and completely hecked --gotta keep it family friendly ( ; -- he was in love with his best friend and it looks like someone had already beaten him to it. At the thought he walked away to the balcony, failing to notice the bluenette, who had seen him sad and decided to check up on him.

When she found him he was leaning on the guardrail he was holding a glass of grape juice, not being the legal drinking his brothers found it funny to give him it. “What’s the matter Dami?” Marinette asks, putting a hold on his shoulder. 

“It nothing, I just realized that I’ve been missing who's been in front of me this whole time and now its too late,” he sighs, taking a swig from his glass.

“Missing who?” Marinette asks, placing her head on his shoulder.

“You, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me and it’s too late now,”  Damian explained.

“What do you mean it’s too late?” Marinette said, lifting her head. 

“Didn’t that guy ask you out?” Damian asks, standing up straighter. 

“What? No Dami. He’s a client,” Marinette explained, pulling him into a hug. 

“Wait seriously?” Damian says. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“Yes Damian, if you hadn’t noticed I’m head over hill for you,” Marinette says, kissing his cheek. 

“Seriously!?” Damian asks, picking her up in a spin. 

“If I didn’t know Adrien I would say you’re the most oblivious person I know,” Marinette giggles into his embrace.

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

Tag list:

@northernbluetongue @chocolatecatstheron @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @gwennex @abrx2002 @sonif50 @silvergold-swirl @sturchling @rosep16 @toodaloo-kangaroo @captainmac6 @crazylittlemunchkin @tired-butterfly @emo-elaine13 @book-lover-2006 @weird-pale-blonde-person @rebecarojas07 @dahjokester @jessigurl-design @vixen-uchiha @daminett4life @cici-schnee @clumsy-owl-4178 @lavenderchaitea @grimmhallow31

[thedarklightwithinus]

Soul For A Soul.

A/N; Been working on this one for a while now. Also, why do I write the sad shit?

Words; 3.4k

Pairings; Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Platonic!Reader.

GIF not mine.

"You stay safe and you make sure you're careful out there." 

"We're going to collect a stone, Steve. There's not a lot that can go wrong." 

"Anything could go wrong, Y/N." 

"You listen to the Capsicle, Squirt." Tony said in passing.

"We don't have time to talk about this... I'll be safe and do what's right if you promise me you'll do the same. Deal?" 

The light hit Steve Rogers face at such a beautiful angle as you looked up at him, taking in his features as though you had never done so before. You smiled watching as he raised a brow at you before he nodded, muttering out that he was happy with your deal. 

Time travel. Never in a million years would you have thought you'd be minutes away from time traveling. As a little girl you had read stories about time travelling, watched films about it too. The world could say what they liked about Tony Stark. The words that labelled him was nothing compared to just how much of a genius he actually was. His mind truly was something else. Sure, you had a piece of that but Tony was a hero to you before he was to anyone else. 

As you walked beside Steve to the podium that would be centre stage for the actual travelling, you couldn't help but twist your arms around, liking the feeling of the matching suit you all wore.

Quantum Suits, Tony and Bruce had called them. They were made of fabric that would protect you all from the Quantum realm you were minute from travelling through. Under the suits themselves were different uniforms depending on the person and who was going where. 

You walked behind Nat, moving up onto the podium and standing on the outside, facing inwards. A large hand gripped yours as you grinned at Steve, finding it difficult to hold your excitement in. You were one of the fist people to partake in time travel and you'd be dammed if you tried to hide your excitement. 

When everyone was in place, Steve spoke up. "Five years ago, we lost." He began, squeezing your hand gently. "All of us... We lost friends, we lost family, we lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones, get them back. One round trip each... No mistakes, no do-overs. Most of us are going somewhere we know, that doesn't mean we should know what to expect. Be carful, look out for each other. This is the fight of our life's."

"And we're gonna win." Tony added on.

"Whatever it takes." You whispered, raising a soft brow at Steve who nodded.

"Good luck."

You released Steve's hand, moving to slide across the platform in order to insure that you weren't touching anyone. You breathed out, intaking a fresh breath of air as Bruce moved away from the keyboard and back onto the platform. "Trackers engaged." He informed everyone, fiddling with the control panel on his arm. 

"This is gonna be so cool." You squealed out, unable to contain your excitement as Scott agreed, looking far to happy to be among the first to partake in time travel as well. ”Tony, I know I’ve given you shit for many, many years but this is the coolest thing you’ve done for me."

The others chuckled, shaking their heads as the platform hummed to life and began to whirl, light filling up the air from the ground. A Helmet encased your head in nano-seconds as you looked around, taking in the faces of the team you were so proud of. 

You looked down and watched as the floor began to open beneath your feet, an overwhelming surge of pressure filled every part of your body as it dragged you down. 

A blink. That was all it took before you were filled with pressure once more and collapsed to the ground, breathing deeper than you ever had before. Your helmet retracted, giving you the fresh air you so desperately needed. 

"Y/N, you good?" Rhodey asked, breathing deeper than he usually would himself. 

"I'm... Fine." You muttered, allowing the man to help you to your feet. "We... Are legit in two thousand and fourteen right now." You gazed up at the sky in awe. "I wonder what I was doing right now."

"With Steve, fu-"

"Lets not finish that." Rhodey rolled his eyes.

Natasha snorted, watching while you raised a brow at her with a small head tilt. "Filthy." She muttered to you, laughing along when you did. 

"I can still hear you both!" Rhodey all but shouted out as the two of you fell silent. "And do you mind, we're kind of busy over here." 

"Can you hurry it up?" You whined. He didn't reply as he continued directing Nebula in lowering the Benatar safely to the ground. 

The four of you, along with Rockets shrunken ship had been sent to the planet Morag which was located in the Andromeda galaxy. Nebula and Rhodey would be retrieving the power stone on the planet while you and Nat would be taking the Benatar to Vormir and collect the soul stone. 

Once the ship was on solid ground and ready, you and Nat bid a farewell and good luck to Nebula and Rhodey and climbed aborted the Benatar. 

With coordinates set for planet Vormir, the two of you set off for the soul stone. 

”I’m telling you Nat, if I would've known we’d have to walk the length of a fucking planet and then climb the worlds biggest mountain, I would’ve went with Banner.” You huffed, ignoring Natasha as she laughed. 

”Here.” The red head spoke, handing over her water bottle she had just drunk from as she took a few deep breaths. "Can't be to far, right? Nebula said to climb the tallest mountain. There can't be much further to go." She said, looking up and eyeing the arched structure that seemed to stop around fifteen feet above them. 

You shrugged and took a few sips of the water she had offered, taking a small break from the long climb. The mountain in which you were steadily climbing was rocky and slippery which left little to no grip. On numerous occasions you had to stop yourself from falling.

The mountain itself was located almost as soon as you had entered the atmosphere. Nebula had said the tallest one which left little to no doubt to which one it was they had to climb as every other mountain was barely half the size. 

"Come on, Y/N." Natasha sighed, looking like she had caught enough of her breath to carry on. "We're on the clock."

You nodded, capping the bottle and handing It back to her. With a deep intake of breath, you followed after her, mindful of the incline and the wetness of the rocks. 

What felt to you like an hour but was closer to four minutes later, Nat came to a sudden stop which caused you to narrowly miss running into her back as you forced yourself to a stop, holding your hands out in order to balance yourself against the ground that threatened to send you tumbling all the way back down. 

"Nat, what the he-" You cut yourself of with a foreign noise that slipped out before you could contain it as you took a look over Natasha's shoulder. 

"Welcome." The dark, ghostly figure spoke, hovering above the ground in a patch of darkness. "Natasha. Daughter of Ivan. Y/N. Daughter of Howard."

"Who are you?" Natasha demanded rather than asked, raising her gun and pointing it at the figure while you stared in bewilderment.

"Consider me... A guide." He answered in the same tone, seemingly not threatened by Natasha's gun. "To you... And to all who seek the Soul Stone."

"Oh, good!" You exclaimed, moving around Natasha and raising a brow at the figure. "If you could just tell us where it is, we'll be on our way out of here in no time." 

"Oh, my dear... If only-" He moved forward out of the darkness he was surrounded in. "It were that easy." 

Silence. 

You side-eyed Natasha, wondering if you were seeing the man clearly. When the smallest twitch in her eye caught your own, you knew she was seeing what you were seeing. You watched intently as he drifted over towards the edge of the cliff, darkness moving around him as he did so. You blamed your brother for what fell out of your mouth next. "Wow... What's up with your face? It looks like you've had a bad day with a juicer." 

He seemed to ignore your words as her turned, setting his beady eyes on the two of you. "What you so desperately seek lies in front of you." Slower than you had moved before, you walked beside Nat to where he stood and took a look over the cliff edge. To slip and fall off would be a long drop. It was far, and all you could really make out was different shades of purpled. "As does what you fear." Yeah, It’s a really long drop.

"The stones down there." Natasha mumbled, loud enough for you to hear what she had said clearly. 

You looked to Natasha who looked suddenly so upset with what he had told them. You eyes drifted over to the red face, raising a brow at the skull-like features he had. When he said nothing to indicate that he was lying, you huffed. 

"The stones down there?" You all but whined out, rolling your eyes. "We spend how ever long climbing this stupid mountain and the stones been down there this whole time? That's what you're telling us right now, Skull face?" 

"The stone is down there... For one of you." He answered, his cloak continuing to flow beneath where he hovered a few inches above the rocky ground. "For the other... In order to take the stone... You must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange... A soul for a soul." 

"Well, shit." You muttered, sighing slightly as you tilted your head down at the ground. 

Natasha moved back from the edge, locating a small log lick rock and taking a seat on it while you moved over to the left and slid down the rocky wall, crossing your legs and resting your chin on your hands. 

"Cons and pros." You murmured to yourself. "Cons and pros." 

Twenty-three minutes and sixteen seconds of silence passed by as the two of you sat on opposite ends of the mountain and though you tried not to, you found yourself thinking over your life. 

Growing up a Stark had not been easy. You were always living in your fathers shadow, a man you could not remember as he had died when you were a baby. Your mother had also passed which left you in the less then capable hands of your brother, one Antony Stark. Being particularly young himself when your parents had died he was less then happy to spend his weekends looking after a kid rather than out partying like he had done before the two of you were orphaned. 

You were forever thankful that Tony had stepped up, taught you everything you needed to know and more. You were who you were because of him and though you had never thanked him outright, you knew that deep down, he knew how grateful you were to him. Which gave you the nerve to feel the way you felt. It was simple to work out what Skull face was getting at. One of you would have to go over the cliff. If you could give Tony back the people the world had lost... Peter... It would all be worth it. 

Steven Rogers was a different story, however. He would be heartbroken, he would hate you for a while but deep down, you knew he could never hate you. What he was loosing in love he was gaining in family. Bucky, Sam, Wanda... He would get his family back and while, sure, he'd loose you. He'd still have your love in his heart. He'd never be without it. 

"Nat?" You called out, your voice travelling in the wind as she raised a brow, continuing to stare ahead. "How do we know he isn't lying?" You found yourself asking half-heartedly. You knew he wasn't lying. Why would he? 

"I don't thin so, Y/N." She answered, her voice void of emotion. "He knew my father's name." 

"He knew mine too?" You raised a brow. "What of it." 

"I never knew my father." Nat admitted, looking over at you. "Thanos left this place with the stone... Without his daughter. That's not a coincidence." 

"Whatever it takes." You whispered, remembering the three words you had said to Steve before you left. You stood up on shaky legs, moving slowly towards the middle of the cliff and eyed the purple and red sky.

"Whatever it takes." Natasha repeated, pushing herself up to come and stand beside you looking suddenly very solemn. "Y/N, if we don't get that stone... Billions of people stay dead."

"Mhm…" You muttered, tilting your head at the beauty that was the sky. "For being a planet of death... It's very pretty. I suppose we both know who it's gotta be then." You hummed, taking a deep breath in order to feel the freshness of the foreign air. You smiled, turning to look at Natasha who looked very solemn herself. You're eyes narrowed as you looked at her. "Yeah... I wasn't gonna say anything... But, I think we mean different people." 

"I've thought it over... Look, for the last five years, I've been trying to do one thing. Get to right here." Natasha looked like what she was saying was gonna be final. "That's all it's been about. Bringing everybody back."

"You think either of us want to do this right now?" 

"You're not. I am." Natasha said, turning to face you full on. "I'm saving your life. You've got people to get ba-"

"So do you!" You exclaimed, turning to face her as you seethed almost. "You're not copping out, Natasha. You have unfinished business to attend to." 

"I'm not letting you do this, Stark." 

"Okay." You whispered, smiling through the water that filled your eyes. "You win, Nat." You reached out with both hands, gripping her face and pulling her towards you. Her arms wrapped around your waist as yours slid down and over her shoulders. You turned your face, your trembling lips pressing against her temple as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Tell Steve and my brother I love them." 

You felt the read head tense just as your left hand was encased in cold metal as the nano-tech covered your wrist as well. Just as she was about to pull away harshly, you pressed your hand flat against her back and sent a bolt of electricity through her. She stiffened on the spot as her legs gave out beneath her. Quicker than a blink, you had lowered her safely to the ground and spun on your feet, sprinting towards the edge of the cliff. 

You were airborne for a split second as you went over the cliff. However, before you could feel the cold wind around you, your body crashed into the sharp rocks that were sticking out the side of the cliff as you hissed, yelling out in pain. 

You're eyes shot up as you saw Natasha's red face, her eyes dripping tears you had hardly seen before as one fell to land on your cheek. Her hand gripped yours tightly as she lay flat on the cliff-top, stopping you from falling and further. "G-Give me y-your hand!" She stuttered out, her voice thick with emotion. "Give m-me your h-hand, Y/N Stark!" 

"Nat, nat... Natasha!" You called out, stopping her from demanding that you grip her tightly as you let out a small sob. "Please! Let me go."

"Y-You can't t-take this c-chance away from me!" She shouted, openly sobbing for the first time in her life. "It's supposed t-to be m-me!" 

"You go back there with the stone, you bring everyone back and you continue looking after the world. That's who you are and that's who you're going to be. They need you... Now let me go!" You shouted, not wanting to prolong the torture of dangling above your destiny. 

"They need you more!" She screamed, trying to reach out further in order to get a better grip on you. "T-Tony and S-Steve, they'll n-never f-forgive you!" 

"Then so be it." You whispered, raising your legs and placing them against the cliff wall. "Knowing I kept you alive is enough for me. I love you, Natasha. Save them." You squeezed your eyes closed, forced your legs off against the cliff and pulled your arm sharply out of her grasp. 

Natasha Romanoff's scream filled your ears as it grew quieter and quieter. Your eyes opened on their own accord to see that you were falling. Your perception of time non-existent, everything slowed down until there was nothing, only you and the sky above, the sky that seemed to swallow you whole. Your hand reached out, kissing the sky as the coldness of the air bit at your exposed skin. Everything was a blur, a blur that swirled out of existence. Free in the air, you smiled, closed your eyes and surrendered yourself to the fate you knew was coming.

The world rushed by in a blur and you know the pain was coming. It goes by fast, yet slow, almost suspended. Then... Impact.

Natasha Romanoff collapsed to the ground, chocking out in almost hysterical breaths. Her eyesight was blurry, from the onslaught of tears or the bright lights that were dying down, she couldn't be entirely sure. She sobbed openly, her hand clenching the yellow stone she so desperately wanted to throw away.

She heard a few happy cheers go round at the fact they had succeeded in collecting the stones and travelling through time. She blocked the noise out, wanting to scream and shout at them. How dare they celebrate all they had gained when they had lost a part of them in doing so. It was then that she rationalised... They didn't know the loss. They had no clue.

They were yet to feel the pain she was feeling. As though someone had reached into her chest and ripped her heart out against her will. It was as she was in the middle of chocking on a particularly large wave of tears that someone finally took notice of the read head on the ground, trying to grip the floor as though she so desperately needed to anchor herself. 

"Nat?" Someone called out. 

She felt her suit retract around her as she shook her head, trying to contain her heartache that felt to much like she was dying. 

"Nat?" Someone else called. 

Natasha turned her right hand against the floor, her palm stuttering open and she glared down at the stone, watching as one of her tears fell to land on it. 

"Nat?" It was Tony who had called her last, kneeling down as he gripped her shoulder. She could feel the way her hand shook from the small amount of contact. "Where's Y/N? Nat, where's my sister?" Natasha slowly lifted her head, her eyes focusing on Steve who stood with furrowed brows a few feet from them before she looked at Tony who seemed to, deep down, know where his sister was. 

Nebula was the one to speak what had happened into the air as a series of shouts rang out. Thor was trying to justify that time travel worked and they had the stones so they could bring her back while Bruce was demanding to know why she had been allowed to go to Vormir. Steve had lowered himself to the ground, resting his head in his hands as his shoulder shook. 

Tony Stark, big brother and guardian looked into Natasha's eyes once more and prayed for a miracle. "Where's my sister?" 

"A soul for a soul." Natasha whispered.

.

[brucewaynehastoomanykids]

Damirae Week 2020 Day 6: Meeting the Family

"Damian are you sure this is a good idea?" Raven asked her boyfriend as she walked with him up the steps of Wayne Manor. "The last encounter I had with your father wasn't exactly the best."

When a certain older brother decided it would be a good idea to blurt out that Damian was dating his teammate at the dinner table, Alfred thought it was a good idea to invite the girl over, and eventually convinced Bruce to agree to it. Of course, all of this was done without Damian nor Raven's inputs, and the current boy wonder couldn't help but feel bad when he told his anti-social girlfriend about it.

"As I'm well aware," Damian sighed. "But I believe that spending time with him is in order if we ever wish to get over the whole 'Trigon' thing."

"Damian I don't even have to know him that well to know that he won't give in that easily."

"Worth a shot. Now," he stopped at the door and turned to face her, "my family can be a little... much."

"Judging from how you and Dick act with one another I can tell. It can't be any worse than my family life."

No matter how much he wanted to retaliate against her statement, he couldn't. He just sighed and stepped aside to the doorbell and pushed the small button.

The door opened to an older man with grey hair and a tux. From what Raven was told about Damian's family, she assumed this was Alfred.

The man gave a warm smile. "Welcome home, master Damian. I assume this is miss Raven? Or perhaps she would prefer Rachel?"

"Either is fine, sir," Raven replied lightly. "Though, it may be easier for you just to address me with my last name; Roth." She extended her hand to the older man. "I assume you're Alfred?"

Alfred shook her hand gently. "Indeed I am, miss Roth. Please, both of you, do come in. Masters Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim awaits in the dining area."

Alfred stepped aside so that the teens could enter. Damian gave a quick 'thank you, Pennyworth' before walking in with Raven walking closely to his side. Raven was new to the manor and had never stepped inside until now, so the last thing she wanted was to get lost. The two reached a large area with a long table that seated four people at one corner. Raven recognized Bruce at the end, and Dick to his right, but couldn't remember ever seeing the other two boys.

"It's nice to see you, Raven." Bruce smiled at the teen, though she could tell he didn't fully trust her still. She couldn't blame him though, her father did try to use her to destroy the world.

Still, she smiled back. "You too, Mr. Wayne."

"You know Dick, but I'd like to introduce you to my other two boys: Jason and Tim."

"Who's this?" A man who looked a little younger than Dick asked. He was wearing a brown leather jacket with a black shirt and leather pants.

"My name is Rachel Roth, but I usually go by Raven. I'm--"

"Wait, wait," the man put his hands up in the air, stopping her from speaking, "don't tell me you're the brats girlfriend?"

"Maybe let her finish her sentence, little wing?" Dick asked, putting his hand on the man's shoulder. "But to answer your question, yes."

"You could do better." The other unknown man said, taking a sip of what looked to be coffee.

This earned a chuckle from Dick.

Damian scoffed. "Normally I disagree with you, Drake, but you're right... she definitely could."

"Drake..." Raven repeated. "So I'm guessing he's Tim?"

"Bingo." Tim replied.

"And I'm Jason." Jason stood to shake the girl's hand. "But you can call me Jay if you want.

"Alright, Jay." She shook the man's hand, then went to shake Tim's.

"Please," Bruce said pointing a hand towards two empty chairs, "have a seat, both of you. Alfred should be out shortly with lunch."

The two birds took a seat next to each other. Though while Damian seemed more relaxed in nature, Raven was still slightly uncomfortable with the setting. She felt as though she was out of place and, honestly, wanted nothing more than to leave. Though it made her happy to feel that Damian was pleased she was getting along with his family, and it made her happy to know that that was what he wanted out of this.

The afternoon was filled with laughter and teasing jokes about the relationship with the most delicious BLT and cookies Raven had ever tasted. Overall, it was a peaceful afternoon. That was, until Bruce got up, seemingly to put his plate in the kitchen before whispering to her ear that he wanted to speak with her privately. Raven got up from her seat and told the boys that she needed to be excused for a moment. Damian gave both her and his father a questionable and somewhat concerned look as the two walked out of the room.

"You wanted to talk to me, Mr. Wayne?" Raven asked once they were alone.

"I just wanted to give you a little bit of an understanding statement of my thoughts. I figured you would rather it just be us to hear them." Bruce took a seat in a nearby chair and folded his hands together. "I want you to know that I personally have nothing against you, yourself. I may not be around you enough like Dick or Damian to know you well personally, but from what I have seen, I can tell you are a genuine person with a kind heart and good intentions, even if at times it may not seem like it. It's what you can do that worries me. I don't know if you realize this, Raven, but you're a very strong being."

"Sadly, it's all I've ever known, sir. Even on Azarath, I was constantly reminded of who my father is and what I could potentially do because of who my father is. My powers work off of my emotions. If I happen to strongly feel something and express that feeling, I could potentially kill millions. I have to constantly keep myself in a mellow mood because of this."

"I'm aware." Bruce leaned forward as if to get a better look at the girl in front of him. "I have my hypothesis, but I want to hear it from you: is it true that your father is trapped in that gemstone on your forehead?"

"Yes, sir." She replied sadly, looking to the ground. "Trust me, it's not as glorious as it looks, but it keeps Trigon locked away."

Bruce wondered for a moment if it would be too much for Raven if he were to ask the question that rang through his mind, eventually deciding that it would be better to ask for forgiveness later. "It hurts you to have him there, doesn't it? And I don't mean in a way where you feel guilty because he's your father... Raven... I'm sorry for asking, but, does he... say things to you?"

Raven went wide-eyed and silent before nodding slightly. "Yes."

"Would you like me to fix that?"

The girl looked at him in both shock and confusion. "There's no way you can unless I take it off and that would cause him to break free."

Bruce smirked. "You'd be surprised at what I can pull off."

"You would do this... why?"

"Simple: there's a possibility that one day you will be apart of this family for real, as a Wayne. And if that day does happen I don't want my future daughter-in-law to suffer. Besides, you make my son happy. And if you're not happy, it defeats the whole purpose."

Raven felt tears form in her eyes. "I don't know how to repay you, sir..."

"I think you giving my son a new sense of purpose is enough repayment." The man smiled.

Raven couldn't contain herself at this point. She flew into the man's arms and wraps her arms around him, taking him into a hug, repeating small barely audible thank yous into the man's ear as tears began to roll down her face. Nothing could take away the happiness she felt at that moment.

[roselen-mylady]

In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader ° part seven

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occured she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

The diner was quiet, despite the time of day. Light chatter echoed around them but Y/n could hardly notice, her gaze and attention all focused on the large, green man before her. 

Bruce Banner was another idol of hers. He was one of the only brains to compete with hers, aside from Tony Stark, and she admired his work. It was his work after all that had attracted her full attention in that diner. 

The once timid looking man who stood small and nervous during lectures now sat confident and relaxed upon his chair, shoveling the biggest portions of food she had ever seen into his mouth. 

When Steve and Nat mentioned a genius her mind had immediately come to the much more civilized Hulk, but he wasn't their first stop. No, when they pulled up at a small cabin outside of the city, she was confused. 

It was secluded so it was easy to convince herself that they had arrived at Bruce Banner's home but that idea was thrown out the window when a familiar figure stepped away from the small tent out front. She recognized him in an instant and sunk back into herself once realization struck that she was at Tony Stark's home. 

"Who's the new girl?" He asked, curiously sending a glance Y/n's way as he adjusted his hold on the girl in his arms. 

"Dr. Y/n L/n. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark." Her voice cracked slightly but he didn't seem to mind as he reached out for Y/n's hand, shifting the small girl to his hip. 

"Iron Man fan?" He questioned, his grip on her hand soothing in a way. Y/n offered a short shrug, sending a warm look to the girl Y/n assumed was his daughter. 

"More of a 'Tony Stark the philanthropist' fan." A shy smile caked her face and Tony found himself returning it. It was new to him, the way someone admired his true persona rather than the superhero he had made himself to be. It was a welcomed feeling. 

"Well, Doc, since I've got you here-there's this pain in my neck." Tony slipped his hand from her own, moving to rub a spot on his neck. His daughter let her fingers entwine with his own as he did so and the heartwarming smile he gave her reminded Y/n very much of her own father. 

It seemed forever ago since she last saw his proud grin and she allowed herself to wonder what he would think of her life. What would her mother think? Would they be proud? Or would they share the same disappointment she now felt in herself for lying and cowering for so many years? 

"I'd recommend a chiropractor, I'm afraid I'm a PhD type of doctor." Her tone was strained, Steve being the only one to notice it. He knew she was thinking of her past. It was a look he had seen on too many people. A look of loss. He just wished she'd finally let down her walls. 

"I feel like I know you." 

Tony's statement sent a chill down her spine but she did her best to ignore the feeling, allowing yet another smile to grace her lips. 

"I wish." Y/n gave a short giggle, forcing away any suspicion Tony might've had. His eyes lingered on her for a moment but ultimately turned away, carrying on with their reason for visiting. 

Despite their pleas, Tony rejected their idea not that they could blame him. And while Y/n would've loved to work with him, she had just been ecstatic to meet the famous Tony Stark she looked up to all her life. 

He was the reason she took such an interest in science and technology. She was once trained to be the next Tony Stark after all. It was interesting seeing how different their lives had ended up, Tony choosing a life away from people while she chose to help them. She still admired him and she absolutely fell in love with his daughter, Morgan, an innocent replica of her father. 

There had once been a time when she imagined her and her soulmate having the stereotypical suburban life; married with kids. However when the snap occured, any hope of that life died with her soulmate. 

Yet this didn't stop her from pondering an alternative. She wondered if she and her soulmate did have a life together, what it would be like? What would he be like? Was he funny? Was he kind? Was he charming? Were his eyes really blue? 

"About what we were saying…" Steve said, capturing their attention once more. Scott wore a baffled and angry look after the whole picture interaction and Y/n couldn't help but be amused as he sat next to her with a pout. 

"Right. The whole time travel do-over? Guys, it's outside my area of expertise." Bruce explained. Y/n's heart sank and she sighed, her eyes subconsciously searching for Steve's. His eyes were still hopeful and he turned away from her trying to convince Bruce to help. 

"Y/n said she could get it started. Couldn't that help?" He questioned, almost desperate as Y/n shared a look with Bruce. She could tell he wanted to help just as much as the next guy but their entire plan rested on something that came straight out of a movie. 

"Steve, leading an experiment like this would be impossible if I don't even know where to start." Bruce tried to explain gently. Nat stared at Bruce, her expression unconvinced and even a little encouraging as a soft smirk twisted on her lips. 

"Well, you pulled this off. I remember a time when that seemed pretty impossible, too." She replied. Bruce fell silent, looking down at himself as he contemplated the decision. It would be risky but they didn't really have much else to lose, right? 

•••

Bruce had come back with them to the compound and after explaining the strategy she'd come up with, Y/n set off to find Steve. 

He'd been quiet since she'd asked him the truth about Bucky. She regretted it, having pushed him so far. But she was also kind of relieved. 

Finally she understood how her life had fallen apart. Understood why the man she feared had done what he did. 

She even understood why his eyes had looked the way they did that day. The pain and suffering within them made sense and the eyes that accompanied her nightmares only filled her with heartache. 

Would the guilt ever fade? Or would she just continue to find more things to feel guilt for? 

After a bit of searching, she found Steve in his room, leaning against the headrest of his bed. The room was neat and if it hadn't been for the few personal effects on the dresser she would've argued it wasn't lived in. In a way that was true since a majority of his nights were spent at her apartment whether it be movie nights, game nights or simply nights spent together doing their own things. 

Steve looked up from his sketchbook when she softly knocked on the door frame, leaning on it as he set down the book. 

"Come in." She wordlessly padded over, climbing up to sit next to him. Their shoulders brushed and the calming effect that came with her presence uplifted his spirits causing him to look over at her with a tender smile. 

"Let me guess. You wanna know what's wrong." He acknowledged. Y/n studied his thoughtful eyes, shaking her head with a brief exhale as she turned away. 

"You have a way of staring into someone's soul. Did that come with the serum or has it always been like that?" She asked him, her tone teasing yet a little genuine. He shrugged letting out a small laugh. 

The sound out her at ease, telling Y/n that he wasn't angry. At least not at her. Their interaction in the car had hurt both of them and Steve didn't want to continue it any longer. 

"I don't know. I guess I've always been a little intense." His smile faded slowly, allowing his gaze to fall back on the sketchbook. He'd been drawing a familiar sight, unable to get his best friend out of his head. 

Y/n followed his stare, landing on the drawing scribbled onto the page. Respectfully reaching over and picking it up, she looked up at Steve. He made no effort to stop her, watching as her finger traced the curve of the face upon the page. 

It was a rough drawing due to Steve's lack of time to really add the details he wished to but Y/n had seen plenty of his art so he didn't mind as much. Her lips parted but she didn't speak instead creasing her brow as she intently stared at the page. 

Steve had drawn Bucky plenty of times before but shamefully most had been of the Winter Soldier. He used drawing as a way to drag certain images from his head and nothing haunted him more than the monster HYDRA had made his best friend into. 

Yet this drawing was different. He drew him the way he remembered Bucky, from before the snap. When he was getting better. 

On the page was a tired man, a man she'd never seen before. There was a permanent crease in his brow, decades of pointed stares and menacing expressions having worn it into his very features. A bit of stubble had grown on his face and his hair was long like she remembered. Even his expression as exhausted staring back at her with a weak smile. 

Y/n wondered what moment Steve had drawn this from. What had happened to make Steve catalogue this within his memories. She wondered what had caused that look in his eyes. 

The eyes that stared back at her were completely different from the ones she remembered, though she knew they belonged to the same man. These were kind yet weary: eyes of a man who had broken by war and hate but still felt things like compassion. A man who saw the worst of the world but still chose to protect it. . 

"This was him?" She mumbled softly, meeting Steve's uncertain gaze. 

He nodded, watching as she looked away from him. 

This picture seemed to be her breaking point. 

All the rage and all the terror, all of it melted into the already overflowing pool of self hatred. How could she bear to think about the grudge she'd held against a man who despite everything that the world had done to him, still fought Thanos that day when the world ended. 

Today she had learned all at once the man behind the one she feared and all the hate she once felt was unjust. And as much as she wanted to hold onto it, she just couldn't. 

It was wrong. 

"You can keep it if you want." Steve offered once she had handed him back the sketchbook. She began to shake her head, trying to reason it meant more to him than to her but Steve had already pulled out the page handing it to her. 

"To remember who he really was." He reasoned. 

Y/n held it tenderly in her hands, taking care to lay it in her lap as if touching the page in any rough manner might damage the man displayed on it. 

When the silence came it didn't feel as suffocating as before. They sat there on his bed for an hour in that silence. Y/n was grateful for the time to think, trying desperately to come to terms with everything she'd been told. 

And it wasn't until Y/n was about to get up and head home for a change of clothes that Steve spoke, breaking the silence. 

"I know why you came." Steve said suddenly, making her lift her head to peer up at him. Shame flushed over him and Y/n could feel her heart drop. "You want to know why I wanted you to stay so bad. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" 

"You think keeping me around was a mistake, don't you?" 

Steve's expression morphed into shock and he instantly shook his head at her assumption. Allowing him to take her hand in his, she felt a bit ashamed for how hurt he was by what she had said. 

"No. Never. I want you here because I sincerely believe you can help us. You can help me." Y/n sighed, her eyes landing on their outstretched legs. She let him idly circle his thumb along the back of her hand, trying to fight the urge to argue. 

"I want to help, Steve. And I think I can, just..." She trailed off. "This is your thing, Steve. Not mine. I'm not equipped for this. I wish I was, I really do." 

A frown tugged at his lips and his lashes brushed his skin briefly as his eyes fell on his lap. He knew it was unfair to her to bring her into this and it certainly wasn't okay to keep her against her will but he needed her. 

"I know. And I'm sorry. Just-" He cut himself off, shifting on the bed to face her better. She watched with an unsure gaze as he took both of her hands. "Ever since I could remember I've done what I thought was right and for a while it worked. But the past few years, I've ruined so much." 

His voice was hushed and Y/n could see how troubled he was by his furrowed brow and clouded eyes. His eyes were trained on their intertwined hands, her touch filling him with a familiar ease. One he'd known all his life. 

"Things have gotten too hard. Being Captain America isn't white and black anymore and when we lost, I didn't see a point. But then I met you and things were easy again. I didn't have to be Captain America, I could just be Steve." He confessed. 

He felt guilty, not that his words weren't true. If anything, this was the most honest he had been with her. But the guilt that seeped into his heart came from Bucky. He hadn't just failed the world, he failed all of his friends, all people he would fondly consider his new family. Could he really risk losing again? 

"I don't know if that even makes sense but I need you here. I need to be Steve." He dared to take a glimpse at her, fearing she might condemn him. Instead a warm smile graced Y/n's features, patient and kind like Bucky always was. 

"Okay." She whispered, her heart clenching as she forced the simple word. She couldn't shake the feeling that her luck hadn't yet turned. Everytime she tried to help, it destroyed everything around her. She couldn't let that happen again. "I'm gonna go get some stuff from the apartment then you have my wholehearted assistance."

Y/n carefully tucked the picture into her pocket before climbing off the bed, standing next to it as Steve swung his legs over the edge. "Do you want me to go with you?" He offered. She shook her head, pulling her hair up and tying it. 

"Nah, I'll be ok. What, you scared I'll run away?" She attempted to lighten the mood. Steve chuckled as she walked over to the door running her fingers along the wall before pausing. He watched her small frame hesitate before shooting a short glance back at him. "Hey, uh- just…don't do anything stupid till I get back." She pleaded, earnest concern in her tone as he pushed off the bed. 

A soft smirk came to his face and he lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug. "How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you." He replied instantly, not giving it too much thought. Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes and letting her fingers wrap around the doorframe as she stepped out into the hall. 

"Grandpa's got jokes now." She offered a genuine laugh, her smile lingering upon her lips. 

Then she disappeared down the hall, leaving him standing silently in the now empty room trying in vain to brush away the painful overlap. 

•••

When she got back to the apartment she packed a bag of essentials for herself, making sure to stop by Steve's room and pack a few extra clothes in case he needed them. Speaking of the man, she scoffed looking at the full sink. 

"Steven Rogers, I swear." A long sigh filled the quiet apartment as she set about washing the dishes he'd promised to take care of. While she was at it she took care of a few other chores since she wasn't sure when she would be back again. 

There wasn't much to be abandoned at the apartment other than a few plants but they'd been dead for a couple days at that point. She never had been one to have a green thumb but Steve claimed having them around gave the apartment some life. 

Ironic.

The walk back to the compound was peaceful even in the constant gloom of the city. Knowing there was a shift in the atmosphere filled her with a new type of feeling, one she hadn't experienced in a really long time.  

There had been people on the street, going about their business. Everything was dulled compared to life before the snap but she hadn't noticed until she knew there was something to be done. How many times she had gone about her life while something was happening behind the scenes that she had been so painfully oblivious to? Perhaps that was why the Sokovia Accords had been created in the first place. 

There were so many close calls the Avengers prevented that the public didn't even know about until it was on the news. Though she didn't agree with the Accords she understood the government's wish to be more aware and even in control. 

Once reaching the compound, Nat let her in through the gate and Y/n began her trek to the building. Tugging her hair free of the hair tie, it fell loose around her face and she cringed at the grease starting to build on her scalp. Moving through the halls of the compound, she let herself really explore. 

Despite years of friendship she hadn't really been at the compound for longer than a few hours at a time, most of the visit being spent in the training room with Nat. Steve explained he wanted to keep his friendship with her separate from his life as an Avenger and since she had been doing everything in her power to forget her past, she appreciated the separation. 

As she continued to wonder, she hoped there'd be a shower somewhere on the large complex. But before she could ask anyone, her silent venture was cut off by the sounds of very frantic voices coming from a door to her left. Hesitantly she stepped through, finding herself in a large open space with a very odd scene. 

 The horrid van had been brought in and the back glowed while what looked like a portal swirled inside it. A baby, she assumed to be Scott, stood on wobbly feet in a crudely made suit as everyone turned to her with alarmed expressions. Y/n dropped her bag and rushed forward, pushing Bruce aside as she pointed for Nat. 

"When I say kill the reactor, kill it!" Y/n demanded, adjusting the calculations on the panel as Nat rapidly walked over to the reactor. 

"Kill it!" Y/n called. Nat's frantic hands quickly pulled down the knob, turning off the reactor before looking back over to the van. Scott had returned to his position and normal age, his face contorted in shock and confusion. 

"Somebody peed my pants." Scott proclaimed making Nat sigh, walking over to them. Y/n let go of her own sigh of relief, stepping away from the control panel. Bruce looked over the work she'd done, his eyes widening for a split second before returning to Scott. 

"God, I leave you guys alone for one hour! I told you not to do anything!" She cried, sending an aggravated look at Steve. He cowered under her detested glare, bringing his hand to the back of his neck. 

"But I don't know if it was 'baby' me or 'old' me...or just 'me' me." Scott elaborated, earning an annoyed stare from Y/n. However Bruce did not share her agitation, holding up his hands dramatically. 

"Time travel!" He announced, a proud grin on his face as he looked to the others for the same enthusiasm. Steve refused to reply instead shaking his head and stalking off toward the exit while Y/n tried to calm her racing heart. She made them promise to wait for her. She knew something like this would happen. 

"What? I..I see this as an absolute win!" Bruce called after Steve. Nat and Y/n looked at one another before moving to check on Scott. He was fine other than some wet pants and suit which Y/n painfully took knowing they'd need the suit for another test run, one she knew she'd be leading. 

"Here, Bruce." Y/n tossed him the suit. He caught it with a scrunched nose, holding it at arm's length with a disgusted expression. 

"That's what you get for not waiting." 

Part eight

Taglist:

@cancanmarvel

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@mc225g

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

@saiyanprincesswanie

@lextheflexsthings

[animemangasoul]

We Parted Ways A Long Time Ago

Summery: Lucius Fox is Tim's emergency contact number.

In which Bruce and Tim have drifted apart and Bruce doesn't realize it until it's a little too late

Chapter: 2/4

Bruce didn’t know for how long he’d been sitting in his office, slowly going through article after article about the Wayne Enterprise CEO.  

What had originally started off as a casual information gathering had slowly turned into an unhealthy obsession.

Scanning his eyes over the latest article, Bruce almost clenched his fists, brows furrowing as his eyes rested on the smiling image of his son. The article was talking about some kind of project meant to help low-income students around the poverty stricken areas of Gotham and while honest pride bloomed in his chest knowing that his son was carrying on the work he’d started long ago, any sense of joy he got from the praising words were promptly swallowed up by the man standing next to Tim.

Lucius Fox had an arm around Tim shoulders, smiling brightly at the cameras as he for all intent and purpose looked at home next to his son. The pride radiating off of the man torturously close to what Bruce had feeling not even a second ago.  

Breathing in deeply, he clicked out of it. Hesitating only slightly before typing both names in Google and clicking on images and....

Swallowing down the bile suddenly rising up his throat, Bruce carefully eyed the many stills of his son next to Lucius. From charity meetings, press conferences to less formal events such as a park outings with the rest of the Fox family or a dinner at that fancy restaurant Bruce vaguely remembers Tim raving on about; subtly needling him to take him there sometime. ‘Doesn’t this place look great Bruce! Wouldn’t it be nice to go there sometime?’    

They never did.  

Stomach lurching at the sight, he quickly skips through the restaurant pictures, fingers almost shaking... almost. Because... Tim looked so happy. Face open, eyes glowing and in every other captured moment he is invading someone’s space. Whether he’s leaning into Lucius calming touch or resting his head on Luke’s shoulder trying to get a glimpse of whatever he was doing on his phone or smiling amusedly at Tam.

There were so many tender, intimate moments between his Tim and Lucius family and it made Bruce grit his teeth.  

Fists finally clenching till crescent moons marred his skin.  

It... he didn’t understand. Tim didn’t like being touched. He was always so distant and withdrawn. Always stiffening at the slightest brush of skin. He was such a lone wolf. Everyone knew that, so why.... why did these ‘moments’ look so natural to him. It was as if Tim was relishing in the attention, practically soaking in the close proximity of the Fox family, and how could that be in character?

It didn’t make any sense.

Tim was....

Tim was....

But then he remembers Dick.  

Remembers how his oldest had always managed to draw out those special little smiles out of his younger. Remembers how Dick was allowed to hug Tim. Was allowed to wrap his arms around him and how Tim melted into the contact. Dick had called it hug therapy. Practically flinging himself on the shorter teen every time he saw him till Tim was naturally reciprocating the affection instead of freezing up.

Dick was the one to bring Tim out of his shell.  

And for the longest time he’d been the only one. Even Bruce, with all the years he’d had with Tim hadn’t managed to make his son comfortable enough to let down all his guards. Sure he saw glimpses of who Tim could have been whenever he was too sleep deprived to pretend he didn’t need anyone, but while those moments were precious, they occurred very rarely.  

But here Tim was, being basically Tim’s version of attached and it made something ache within Bruce that he couldn’t quiet put into words.

Was it so easy to win over his son?

Shutting off the screen abruptly he breathed deeply and closed his eyes.  

Leaning back, Bruce rubbed at his forehead, trying to banish the throbbing headache blooming at the back of his mind.

What time was it even?

Gaze drifting to the grandfather clock by the corner he sighed.  

Still a bit left to go before he could go get his son.

The itch prickling under his skin didn’t seem to get the memo though, because all Bruce wanted to do right now was drive over to that lonely apartment near crime alley and bring his son home.  

This wasn’t just about dinner.  

Sure, that’s what he told Tim. But Bruce knew one dinner wasn’t going to salvage what had been broken in their relationship. He needed to reopen the doors of communication and he couldn’t do that with only one measly dinner together.

The pitfall stretching wide and deep between them may have been partly Bruce’s fault, but Tim wasn’t without his fair sheer of blame either. If his son had just reached out to him. Sought his companionship like he used to. Talked to him, connected with him, Bruce was sure he would have welcomed him with open arms.

But Tim.... Tim had chosen to be swept away into the shadow of someone else’s family and Bruce just.... he didn’t understand.

Tim was his son. His son. Lucius didn’t have the right to.....

Sighing, he ran a couple of fingers through his hair. It didn’t matter now. Bruce was the parent. He was the only one who could fix this. Tim just needed someone to tell him that he still had a place here, beside him, and Bruce could do that.  

He’d done it for Jason and Damian and Dick. Cass hadn’t needed him to, but if she had, he would have done the same for her.

That’s why this dinner wasn’t just a dinner. If Bruce planned this just right, he was sure he could convince Tim to stay the night. He’d already asked Alfred to prepare Tim’s old bedroom for him and....

The way the old butler's eyes had lit up, face almost breaking into a smile, before nodding hastily and walking away. “Everything will be ready for when the young Master arrives,” he’d said in parting. “Make sure to inform him that I have prepared his favorite coffee cake. God knows that child needs to gain a bit of weight back.”

Alfred hadn’t made any such thing. But he would. For Tim.

Alfred most have missed him too.

Couldn’t his son see what he was doing? Didn’t he understand that just because everyone had been busy, it didn’t mean they didn’t care?

Rubbing a tired hand down his neck, Bruce finally let his eyes rest on the picture frames decorating his desk.  

The first one was of him and Dick when his oldest was just the tiniest little thing. The adoring smile his son was directing at him; arms wrapped around his neck as Bruce was in the process of swinging him around warmed his heart. He’d framed the picture the minute Alfred had handed him the envelop and it remained one of his much-cherished possessions, where it stood next to the picture frame of his parents.  

Next to the two was the one taken after Jason’s adoption and after that, well, at least twenty more that were taken in the span of the next couple of years were added to the mix.

All of them gifted to him by Tim.  

His son having captured so many precious moments between him and his children. Hell, there was even one of him and Steph. The girl explaining something excitedly and him smiling down at her; lips quirking up in amusement.

Running a finger over Damain’s adoring face, Bruce couldn’t help but smile at his youngest. How Tim had caught Damian off guard without the other noticing him Bruce would never know. But he would forever be grateful.  

As he silently observes each and every memory framed physically in front of him, his eyes slowly start to shift from side to side. A tiny frown pulling at his lips and then he’s leaning forward, picking up one frame after the other; pushing a few aside to get to those at the back but.... nothing. There isn’t one.

Tim isn’t in any of these.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true.

He was in two of them. But one was taken shakily by what appeared to be Cass’s phone as the girl pressed her cheek into Tim’s hair; both of them grinning up at the camera. And another of her and Tim yet again but this time his son was sleeping and Cass nestling into his side as she took the picture.

Both of these photos had been given to him by his daughter. She’d quietly stepped into his office weeks ago. Bruce could distinctly remember it now, now that he was trying to recall the details. She’d placed two new frames on his desk, kissed his forehead and left.

He hadn’t thought much of it.... but....

The fact that Tim wasn’t in any of these..... The fact that there were so many and Tim wasn’t in any of them.

Bruce was sure Dick had a couple of photos of him and Tim, right? He was sure. The oldest loved taking pictures of the three of them back in the day. He was constantly in need of capturing ‘cute’ things, so he had to have some.  

Yes, he most have. Tim and Dick might not be as close as they used to; mainly because his younger was always too busy and Dick had his hands full with Damian, but they were still close so Dick surely had endearing pictures of his son.

“I’ll ask him tomorrow,” he muttered to himself, leaning back and standing up. It wasn’t right that out of the twenty so photos on his desk only two contained Tim. It.....

Freezing as an idea struck him, Bruce sat back down and turned on the computer screen.

Six minutes later he’d printed out a picture of him and Tim. Both in business attires and sure Bruce was wearing his Brucie mask, staying in character for the media, but Tim was leaning into him for support in this picture; face almost mushed into his side as his son was fighting against sleep and..... his heart twitched at the innocence.

It was just after he’d come back, Bruce remembered. Before life swept him away.  

He’d gone to the company needing Tim’s help to reorganize his case files and he’d found his son half asleep across the floor.

He’d been so incredibly endeared, because, it had just struck him then that no matter what changed, certain things would remain the same. Certain things being Tim and his workaholic tendency.  

So he’d picked his kid up, helped him into his coat and lead him out the building. Of course they’d been met with flashes of cameras and shouted questions but his son had been none the wiser, leaning even closer to his body heat, muttering nonsense under his breath and shoving his face into his chest.

Bruce chest ached at the memory.

Reaching into the left drawer; eyes refusing to leave Tim’s face, he fumbled until his fingers wrapped around a pair of scissors.  

Cutting away the unnecessary corners he gently put the photo down before picking up a frame, staring at it for a second, eyes drinking in the picture of him sitting between Dick and Damian, both boys prattling on about something while he indulgently smiled at them.

Sighing, he pulled it out of the frame, carefully putting the picture to the side and inserting in the new one. Satisfied he put the photo next to the others.

It wasn’t exactly as informal and familial as the others. Hadn’t been taken with warmth and love but it showed warmth and love didn’t it?

That should be enough.

It was enough.

Standing up he looked at the picture one last time and then stepped past the desk and walked out the door.  

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

“Where are you going father. Pennyworth says that dinner is in ninety minutes.”

Bruce paused at the entrance. Hand resting on the doorknob.

“I’m picking up Tim. He’s going to stay with us for a while.”

A pause and then.... “Why?” Bruce slowly turned around. He’d wanted to leave without creating any fuzz; knowing that he’s youngest would be the least happy about this new arrangement, but alas, there was no avoiding this conversation now.

“He’s sick and needs to rest. Spending some time here at the manor might do him some good.”

Damian crossed his arms; nose scrunching up in displeasure. “Can he not do that at his own apartment? Why most he come here?” Glaring petulantly, he clicked his tongue. “We don’t need a useless person taking up space father.” Bruce frowned.  

Sure Damian had mellowed out the past couple of months, but unfortunately Tim still managed to bring out his more.... childish side.  

Briefly Bruce contemplated telling him off.

Wasn’t this what Tim had been complaining about? His reason for not wanting to stay with them? But then again....

Shaking his head Bruce sighed. “The manor is big enough for all of us,” he said softly, giving his son a meaningful look. “There is no need to worry about space.”

Dick had told him how fragile Damain’s confidence was.

His son being afraid of facing rejection if he committed the slightest misbehavior. Bruce hadn’t seen it, but Dick knew his son so well and “Insults are the only way he knows how to express himself,” his oldest had said shrugging helplessly. “And it’s how he checks whether we lash out at him or not. And we can’t do that to him Bruce. We can’t take away the only form of self-expression he has. He's scared we’ll get tired of him or think he’s too damaged to fit in with our family so whenever he speaks out, we..... I’m just grateful he’s willing to open up to us.”

“What about the replacement,” Jason had asked. Lounging in the chair next to them, raising a thin brow of bemusement. “Cuz that’s who the kid always targets.”

“Tim is older,” Dick had answered. “He understands. We talked about it and he agreed with me that Damian needed to feel comfortable and accepted.”

Jason had snorted, popping out of his chair and walking away. “Sure he did,” he said, dragging out the words. “Sure he did.”

Shaking away the memories Bruce smiled down at his son; just a tiny flick of the corner of his mouth, but Damian immediately straightened out, his own lips quirking up in turn.  

Perhaps Jason had a point, perhaps not. But Bruce had come so far with Damian. Dick had come so far with Damian.  

He refused to be the one who stunted his son’s growth and he was sure Tim must have felt the same. His second youngest having always had a way of understanding others that most of the others lacked.

And Damian never meant much harm with what he said; most of his comment coming from his own insecurities, so Bruce hoped Tim would eventually be able to get over it too and begin to accept Damian for who he was and not for who Tim thought him to be.

“Your leg healed up?”

Startling back, Damian took a second to just stare up at him before nodding jerkily. “Yes father.”

“Good,” Bruce said, turning to face the door. “You can resume your nightly activities with me tonight.”

He doesn’t wait for the kid’s excited reply before he’s out the door and making his way down to the garage.  

He needed to get to Tim’s apartment

It was time to pick up his son and Bruce had to make sure the kid packed enough to stay over for at least a couple of days. If he planned it right, Tim would be settled in enough that he wouldn’t find the need to move out again and Dick or Jason could pick up the rest of his things afterwards.  

Tim just needed time to readjust to the manor and if Bruce played his cards right, Tim would be settled in before he even knew it and then.... Then they could be a family again.

It lightened his heart knowing that all his children would finally be under the same roof.

The end

@miss-choco-chips Bruce out here raising so many red flags. He is so possessive while ignoring Tim’s feelings and opinions. 

@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen next chapter be here!!!!