#bruce its been 5 years

[batmanquotesreal]

you know he technically did say this for real

[9ffairs]

ubhhhh watever....

[misspickman]

you just know pren52 tim would never say this. guy couldnt wait to move out

[deebris]

The Mysterious Visitor 2

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: The unknown child evokes conflicting feelings in Bruce Wayne, who once again finds himself needing to deal with Talia's life problems. The girl only wanted the simple desire to see her brother again, unaware of the danger she had put herself into on her journey.

Warnings: The reader is 13 years old and is Damian's twin sister; the tone of the story is somewhat sad; Bruce is intimidating; Hugo Strange mentioned.

Word count: 2.8k

Note: I feel like maybe I could have developed a more emotional scene between Bruce and the reader, I also want to delve deeper into her thought process, but I hope to make up for that in the next part.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Alfred could finally check the exact time now that he was standing in front of Bruce's room, admiring for a few seconds the clock in the corridor's decoration, which showed 4:17 am. He prepared to knock on the door, but suddenly a thought crossed his mind: would it be more rational to wake Damian instead of his father? Throughout his life, he had faced unusual situations thanks to the Wayne family; hardly anything would shake him now. His concern, however, was not for himself, but for Bruce.

Talia was a persistent shadow in Bruce's past, still haunting him, and although he had tried to convince the butler many times that the only link he had with her now was because of their son, Alfred still doubted it. Their relationship had been complicated in many ways, either because of her ambiguous nature or Ra’s al Ghul's insistence on trying to persuade Bruce to join the League of Assassins, making Alfred fear that Bruce's morals might deviate because of this passion at the time.

Alfred raised his fist to knock three times and waited patiently as was his custom, but it seemed that was not enough to wake his master. He knew the door was open and knew he was allowed to enter without knocking, so just this once he used the liberty the young man had given him over the years; because in the end, Bruce Wayne was just that, a young man, and would always be seen that way by him.

Inside the room, he turned on the light, and the intense glare made him close his eyes to avoid the sting of the brightness. Approaching the bed, he sighed at the sight of Zolpidem pills left on the nightstand. This had been the only way Bruce found to stop spending sleepless nights, reluctantly since he was too stubborn and preferred to patrol in the darkness. Waking him would be a difficult task.

"Master Bruce," he called, waiting for a response, but got nothing. Alfred felt sorry for waking him, seeing how he finally seemed to be resting. "Master Bruce," he called again, this time nudging his shoulder. The pills must have been wearing off because he started to stir on the mattress.

"What’s going on, Alfred?" Bruce asked in a hoarse voice while rubbing his eyes to relieve the discomfort from the lamp. He sat up in bed, leaning his back against the headboard, blinking several times to see the butler in the corner. One of the room's curtains was open, and he saw the snow falling outside with the dark sky, showing that it was still night. "Is it Hugo Strange? Has he shown up somewhere?"

"Unfortunately, or fortunately, no, sir." Alfred paused, then licked his lips, preparing to continue and finally revealing, "There's a young lady downstairs who claims to be Master Damian’s sister." Direct, as always.

"Sister of Damian?" Bruce repeated the information, still not fully comprehending its meaning. He needed some time, just standing there absorbing the words. It seemed to be taking an eternity, but Alfred wouldn't interrupt the moment of clarity he was having.

He squinted, pushed the covers aside, and picked up the shirt he found nearby. Buttoning it up and getting out of bed, he continued, "When did this happen?"

"Just now, sir."

"Did Damian bring her here?" The question had a bitter tone but never crossed the line of respect that was drawn between them, and Alfred knew he should prepare for his interrogation. Bruce saw the alarm clock and, like the butler a few minutes ago, checked the time. "He never mentioned anything like this."

"Nor to me." Alfred suddenly extended a coat for him to take. Bruce held the fabric between his fingers, confused. "This coat is hers. There’s a map of Gotham City and a letter inside. I recommend you take a look at the addressee."

Pulling the papers from the right pocket, Bruce noticed a map folded into many smaller parts and a letter witch was still sealed, though the corners were noticeably crumpled and marked by small fingers. Carefully analyzing the cursive handwriting, he read. "I had no idea Damian still had contact with his mother. Much less that Talia had a daughter," he said, still drowsy, staring at the name 'Talia Head,' to whom the letter was addressed and recognizing his son’s elegant handwriting. Apparently, she still used the alias surname.

"It's not surprising considering you only discovered your son after so many years." The statement could have easily been interpreted as irony, but it was acidic. "She didn’t seem sure Damian lived here; I suppose she found out because of this letter."

"You left her alone downstairs?" he ignored the previous comment.

"I left her in Master Dick's care."

Bruce stared at him for long seconds and hurried out of the room. Halfway down the stairs, he could already see some glimpses of Dick's hair over the back of the sofa, talking to someone, or rather, laughing with someone.

"Dick?" The voice quickly caught his attention, turning his face to see his father approaching. When Bruce stood in front of the fireplace, he could finally look at the child beside the boy. Dick began to say something, but Bruce couldn’t hear. 

He stared at the girl, analyzing everything about her, from the way she intertwined her fingers nervously to her deer-like eyes. Her iris were shining, as if she had cried, and her swollen and bruised lips were quite noticeable. She had definitely been outside not long ago, shaking and rubbing her hands together constantly to warm herself up. She seemed too sweet, but Bruce knows that appearances can be deceiving.

His gaze passed over the pendants hanging from her bracelet, a simple detail that caught him off guard. Two crossed swords and a demonic head, he understood well what they meant; they were some of the symbols of the League of Assassins, the third was a simple "T" surrounded by a moon. He shouldn’t have been surprised, Talia was a possessive woman and he knew that the "T" was her way of marking property.

"Her name is Y/n," he heard Dick say after a long time.

You noticed how this man's eyes went dark while he watched you and couldn’t help but shrink back on the sofa. It was impossible to hold his gaze, and you began to feel ashamed of being stared at for so long.

"Y/n, this is Bruce Wayne."

"What do you want?" That came out ruder than he intended, but his aversion to the League of Assassins stirred a certain anger. The idea that this could all be a trap crossed his mind. You might be young and exude innocence, but you must have enough understanding to participate in their malicious plans.

"I just wanted to see my brother," you said with sadness in your voice, questioning yourself if this whole situation was worth it. Bruce knew the best way to confirm if this was all true would be by his son’s word, but the signs were so explicit that it might not even be necessary.

You don’t look anything like her, at least at first glance, but you wore her favorite colors and clothes so perfectly matched that no girl your age could choose yet, exactly to Talia's taste and with the appropriate youthful touch for your age. The pendants, the cut of your hair, literally everything had her touch. It was impossible for anyone to convince him otherwise.

"Go get Damian." He said, and Dick understood that the message was for him. Bruce needed to make sure you were telling the truth, or at least needed to make sure you weren’t dangerous. This could still be a League scheme or some plot by your mother.

"Can I see him?" Your voice was the loudest you had spoken that night. The excitement was clear, and it was so much that irrationally you stood up to follow Dick, but a calloused hand suddenly wrapped around your torso and stopped you, making your back hit a slightly prominent belly. You looked up and saw the old man again, his expression was not happy, and you realized it was directed at Mr. Wayne, who had an arm extended towards you but that never managed to touch you.

Like his face, his arm was tense, with visible veins and contracted tendons. You didn't know what his intentions were, but by the way the old man grabbed you to prevent him from laying hands on you, maybe he wasn't as good as he or Dick. It was a very scary sight., making you feel that this man could be dangerous. Trusting the old man, you turned to hug him, hiding as much as possible. Mr. Wayne’s aura was dark, very unfriendly, but you still saw how he recoiled with his face displaying a certain sense of regret.

Dick noticed Alfred's sudden movement behind him before he could leave the room. He glanced at their faces and for a moment considered whether it would be appropriate to turn back and mention the conversation he had with you to the butler in secret, but then his eyebrows furrowed thinking of Damian. Maybe he should confront the little demon first.

"Don’t do anything stupid, Bruce." Dick thought.

Frantically he knocked on the boy’s door. One, two, three, four times until he lost count. At no point did he hear any noise inside, so he began to turn the doorknob, only to find it was locked.

"Of course he’d lock it, that brat..."

"What are you doing?" Suddenly Tim's bedroom door behind him opened abruptly, making a sliver of light from inside illuminate the opposite wall. He was obviously irritated at being woken up but still had that tone of seriousness he carried most of the time.

"Where's his room key?" Dick completely ignored his brother's attitude.

"Forget it. I heard him sneak out to patrol again." Tim's voice sounded tired.

"And you let him?!" Dick snapped but reminded himself to contain it, remembering that Jason was sleeping in one of the rooms in that wing and that you three downstairs might hear the commotion. "Why didn’t you stop him?"

"And what good would it do? That boy is too stubborn." Tim tried to defend himself. "Besides, I have his location right here. He’ll be fine." He opened the door a bit more to show one of his computer monitors tracking the trajectory and heart signals of a green dot on the streets of Gotham City.

Dick looked both ways down the hallway before pushing Tim back into his room and closing the door.

"Hey, what's this? Why are you acting so weird?" Tim was startled by Dick's unusual behavior, feeling anxious as he watched him go to the computer to check Damian's exact location, observing the dot on the screen moving. Dick pressed a button, likely an emergency notification to get Damian to return home. Then he turned to Tim, gripping his shoulders and looking at him with intense seriousness.

"Tim, what I'm about to tell you might be a lot to take in, and I need you to try to understand as much as possible." Dick pointed a finger in his face, waiting for confirmation.

"You're scaring me like this. What the hell happened?"

"No questions and no interruptions! Understood?" Dick's tone was authoritative, stepping back only when he saw Tim nodding affirmatively.

"Why the hell is everyone awake downstairs? Did someone die or something?" Jason barged into Tim's room without ceremony, trying to make a joke, but when he saw the ghostly expressions on their faces, he quickly shut the door again, this time with him inside the room. "My God," he exclaimed in shock. "Can I join in on your little secret?" he asked ironically.

"Did you see the girl?" Dick asked Jason nervously, with a certain expectation.

"Yeah. I saw a girl with Bruce and Alfred. But they didn't see me, since I went back upstairs. The mood down there is pretty tense." Jason threw himself on the bed, making the mattress bounce and Tim frown in displeasure. "I think Alfred is going to give him a lecture afterwards."

"She's Bruce's daughter."

Jason propped himself up on his elbows, and Tim had to sit in the computer chair. His mouth formed a perfect 'O' as he struggled to believe Dick's words.

"With who this time?" Jason seemed to be reacting better than Tim to the news, even letting out a light laugh. It was a typical, caustic Jason response.

"That's not all." Dick ignored his comment. "She said she's Damian's twin."

Tim let out a short whistle, processing the idea like a complex calculation. "Tell this story from the beginning, Dick. Why did she show up now?" He finally managed to rejoin the conversation. It took a while for the shock to pass, but now he had his usual rational demeanor.

Dick rubbed his hands over his face, trying to recount the night and organize the information. "Apparently, she doesn't even know Bruce is her father. And he doesn't know about it either."

"Damian also never mentioned having a sister."

"Damn. Hiding one kid for a decade is something, but two?" Jason stared at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, a strange sensation taking over the room. But seeing the melancholic expression on Dick's face, his curiosity grew even more. "What else do you know, huh Dick?" He questioned him, sensing there was something much deeper behind this, and his brother just gave him an enigmatic look.

"She said she came here to see Damian. That she found out where he was because of a letter he wrote to Talia..." Dick suddenly froze, pulling a little box from his pocket as if it were a dangerous bomb. "While we were talking, she said a man had helped her get here. He gave her a map and asked her to deliver a present to Bruce, but she gave it to me to deliver." He handed the beige little box to the two, but it was Tim who took it.

Whatever it was, it was very well wrapped.

"Is it right to open it?" Tim asked. "I mean, it's for Bruce, isn't it?"

"I already opened it." Dick said bluntly. "I thought it might be a trap, I was careful."

"Give it here." Jason took the small box from Tim's hands. It was the same size as an engagement ring box, perfect for carrying in a pocket. He pulled the lid off and took out a card, freezing when he read it.

"What does it say?" Tim was curious, taking the card from his hands and reading it out loud:

'I sent your daughter home as a demonstration of my benevolence. Merry Christmas, Batman. Signed, H.S.’

"Holy shit," Jason exclaimed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "That bastard figured out Batman's identity."

"Even worse: he knew about her before we did." Tim added reflectively, his voice barely a whisper. "That means he knows much more than just Batman's identity. He might know other things, including our identities. He probably suspects we are also vigilantes."

"I want to hear the whole story properly." Jason's intensely serious voice broke the silence that had settled in the room, determined to fully understand the appearance of this girl and how she got involved with Hugo Strange.

Dick took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "Alright, here it is. Minutes ago, Alfred and I woke up because a girl showed up at the manor claiming to be Damian's sister. She told me that she had a map of Gotham and a letter addressed to Talia from Damian. Alfred brought Bruce to her, and then I went upstairs to call Damian, but I discovered that he's out on patrol. And now we're here."

Tim interrupted, "Wait, so Damian's been in contact with Talia and didn't tell us?"

"That's what it seems like," Dick confirmed, rubbing his temples. "The girl didn't even know Bruce was her father. She mentioned that a man helped her get here and gave her a map along with a present for Bruce."

Jason leaned forward even more. "And this man was Hugo Strange."

"Not xactly, he could have sent someone else." Dick nodded. "The present was that card. Strange knows about her and about Bruce being Batman. He sent her here as some twisted gift."

Tim, processing the information, asked, "Did she say anything about why Strange would do this? What does he gain from sending her here?"

"She didn't seem to know much about Strange's intentions," Dick replied. "She just wanted to see Damian. But it’s clear that Strange knows a lot more than he's letting on. He must have some larger plan in mind."

Jason clenched his fists, his anger palpable. "So, this girl is just a pawn in his game. We need to figure out what his endgame is."

"Agreed," Dick said. "But first, we need to make sure she's safe and find out everything she knows. We also need to talk to Damian and see what tell us about all this."

Tim nodded, adding, "And we have to stay vigilant. If Strange knows this much, we can't underestimate him. He could have more moves planned."

Jason stood up, his determination evident. "We need to get to the bottom of this before anyone gets hurt."

"But what about Talia? Did she just let her daughter go out there, be deceived by a stranger, and then simply come here?" Tim pointed out. "And you, Dick? Are you going to tell Bruce?"

Suddenly, the sound of someone tapping on the window glass was heard. The three brothers turned their heads to see Damian, clad in his Robin attire, asking to come in. "Open up already, you idiots."

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@nebuluma

Credits for the divider: @cafekitsune

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 5: The Departure (Warning: this chapter will contain violence. Read at your own risk.)

It’s been around two months since you accepted the Megamycete into your body and for the first time since you were dragged to Gotham, you’re actually happy. With its vast archives, you’re bursting with knowledge spanning over the course of four-hundred years, ranging from the academic to the arts and it’s thanks to that knowledge that your grades have skyrocketed in the past few weeks; where once you struggled with something, now you know better than even the teachers, even correcting them when they make a mistake and outpacing the best students in your class. Sure, by this time, it’s a little too late to get to the top of your class, but you really don’t care about your ranking; all that matters is being able to complete your homework, class assignments, and tests in record time, giving you time to work on more important things, like your game.

Included in the Megamycete’s records are the knowledge and memories of many computer programmers, some of them working for Bruce in his tech division; you also have many artists and musicians swimming in your head, many of them talented in making art on computers, so with your newfound knowledge, you’ve made tremendous strides in making your game. A year ago, you thought you would have to find a way to crowdfund the game in order to pay artists, musicians, and programmers and it would take a few years to make it ready for players, but now, you’re sure you can have this game ready by yourself within the year.

Not only has your intellectual attributes increased, but so have your physical abilities; the Megamycete’s records also include many athletes, both professional and student, and you know how to play every sport that’s ever been played in Gotham, but you haven’t shown any improvement in gym class. You never had any interest in sports before and you sure as hell don’t know. Plus, if you suddenly start showing everyone in the school that you’ve all of a sudden become smarter and stronger out of nowhere, you might attract enough attention that not even the Waynes can ignore.

And that won’t end well for anyone.

Speaking of them, you know they heard about what happened at the My Alibi bar and are working overtime to find the culprit, the only thing they know for certain is that it was the work of someone new. It actually brought a smile to your face when you learned about it, that for all their detective skills, they have no idea that the person they’re hunting for is under their own roof. While Damian is the only one to have ever told you to your face, you know they all think you’re stupid; that because you chose to deal with your fucked up life in a semi-healthy way and not dress up in some stupid little costume and fistfight psychopaths, that must mean there’s something wrong with you in the head.

Fuck all of them. You don’t need them and tomorrow night, you’ll be driving back to Goodsprings.

When you turned eighteen, you inherited all of your Momma’s assets, namely her life insurance policy, bank accounts, and royalties from all her books, all of which was worth a little over two-million; at first, you were going to save that money for when you moved back to Goodsprings in case you had to fix up your old home and pay the bills, but after almost dying due to relying on bus stops and bumming rides off of Alfred was unfair to the man, you decided to take some of the money and invest it in a car. The Megamycete had absorbed many modern car experts, so you were able to pick out a brand new car that was worth the hit to your wallet.

Plus, you had a way of earning a pretty penny and stick it to Bruce at the same time: sell his proprietary technology to Lex Corp. Many of Bruce’s employees are buried in Gotham’s cemeteries, some of them working on the latest technological breakthrough at the time of their deaths and you knew Bruce’s biggest business rival would kill to see what Bruce’s scientists are cooking up in their lab.

You reached out to the man using your computer knowledge to send him an email that couldn’t be traced back to you, stating you had the specs for several of Wayne Enterprises’ latest large scale projects and asked him if he was interested in buying them for a couple million in cash. Knowing he’d never consider the deal without some proof, you included bits and pieces of what you were offering, just enough to show you were legit, but not enough to be useful without the rest of it.

Sure enough, he took the hit and now, here you are, meeting with the most powerful man in Metropolis in his office, which overlooks the entire city. Of course, you’re smart enough to not show him your face, so you took the form of some Joe Schmo that died years ago.

“I don’t believe it,” the man exclaims as he sifts through the papers you drew the designs on. “Medicine, experimental aircraft specs, software designs! Over a million spent in corporate espionage and nothing to show for it. Then you come along, offering more than enough to recoup those losses and then some.” He looks back at you, an ominous twinkle in his eye that makes you shiver. “Any chance I can rely on your services in the future?”

“Perhaps,” you say in your disguised voice. “If I get my hands on more WE secrets, I’ll keep you in mind. Now, about my money?”

“Of course,” he purrs. He snaps at his assistant, who places the briefcase she was holding on his desk and opens it, revealing more money than you’ve ever seen in your entire life. “Twenty million in unmarked bills. I trust that’s more than enough?”

“Yes,” you say, trying to hide your shock from earning enough money to last you the rest of your life in just a few seconds. “I believe it is.”

(We see no signs of sabotage or subterfuge,) the Megamycete says. (It would appear Luthor intends to keep his word. For once.)

“Mercy will see you out,” Lex says as you take the briefcase. He then holds out a business card. “And this is my personal number and email. If you have more secrets you’re looking to sell, call me day or night.”

“Thank you,” you say as you pocket the card.

And with that, you follow the assistant out of Lex’s office and down to the lobby.

(You must be happy to have amassed such a fortune,) the Megamycete states as you walk out the front door. (And exacting revenge on Bruce Wayne makes this moment all the better.)

“You’re damn right,” you respond with a chuckle.

(Perhaps you could use some of that money to enjoy yourself? Since our joining, you have been hard at work with your education or your project. Taking some time to have fun will do you a world of good.)

Its words resonate with you. Sure, you’ve been busy with catching up on school and the gaps in your game, but you’ve done some fun things the last few weeks, right?

(No, we are afraid you have not.)

“Damn,” you mutter. “Guess I should change that.” You glance down at the briefcase in your hand. “Well, we have twenty mil of Lex’s money in here. How about have a night out in Gotham?”

(We agree wholeheartedly,” it exclaims, its voice full of joy and anticipation. (We look forward to seeing what you have planned.)

You chuckle as you change your form to your hardened mold armor and wings and take flight into Metropolis’ night sky. Fortunately for you, it’s a quiet night in the massive city, so Superman isn’t flying around, so you don’t have to worry about bumping into the Man of Steel.

“I gotta say, this city looks a helluva lot better than Gotham,” you remark as you soar above the skyscrapers. “Gotham looks like a giant tomb while Metropolis looks like the future.”

(Yes, we have noticed that no matter the era, the architecture of Gotham refuses to change. The city seems to be doomed to remain locked in a by-gone age. We look forward to seeing the world beyond.)

“You’ll love Goodsprings. Sure, it’s the size of a stamp compared to a behemoth like Gotham, but you can actually sit on your porch at night and not have to worry about gunshots or escaped lunatics. People actually have conversations with one another instead of telling you to fuck off.”

In a less than thirty minutes, you arrive back at Gotham and land on the roof of Wayne Manor and quietly sneak in. Joker’s still on the loose, no doubt waiting for the perfect moment to unveil his latest sick and twisted plan, so everyone’s out and Alfred’s stuck in the Batcave, keeping an eye on camera feeds.

You take out a few bills from the briefcase before hiding it under your mattress and heading out to the back where you keep your car parked. While Bruce has multiple cars, every single one of them is a high-end luxury car that costs way more than yours, so you didn’t want to take the risk of Bruce or the others finding it and doing something to it, so you keep your car behind a large barn that’s used to hold all the groundskeeping equipment.

As you drive off the property, you tell your phone to dial Alfred, who answers it halfway through the first ring.

“Master Y/N, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, Alfred, everything’s fine. I was just letting you know that I’m going out for a bit. Thought some time outside the house would do me some good.”

“While I agree that you need to get more, perhaps tonight isn’t the best time,” he says hesitantly. “I mean, the Joker is still out there, no doubt planning another heinous act.”

You’re touched by the man’s concern for you. Really, you are. But, with the Megamycete, you have nothing to fear.

“Don’t worry, Alfred, I’ll be fine.,” you reassure him. “I promise I won’t be gone too long. I’ll just be in Amusement Mile for an hour or two.”

“Still, I wish you weren’t going by yourself. Perhaps I can get one of your siblings—“

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m going out to have fun before I graduate, not be miserable. If I wanted to be tortured, I’d throw myself in Arkham’s Intensive Care Building.”

“I know why you feel that way, Master Y/N, but maybe you can give them another chance? You’ll be graduating tomorrow night and leaving after the ceremony. I just don’t want you leaving us under such bad circumstances.”

You know the man’s been trying to get the Waynes to notice you, but they’re all busy with their own lives in addition to being vigilantes at night, either fighting crime in Gotham, Blüdhaven, or elsewhere around the world. And when they’re all home, they’re spending time together, having fun that was never meant to include you. You learned that after countless times coming downstairs and seeing them, eating delicious food, laughing, watching movies, and enjoying themselves without you. After a while, you stopped going downstairs when you heard noises coming from the living room.

You don’t belong here, either in the Wayne Family or in Gotham. You never did. You know it, they know it, and deep down, Alfred knows it, whether he wants to admit it or not. You’re a Gould, not a Wayne and there’s nothing that’s going to change that.

“Alfred, I think the ship for us being a ‘happy, loving family’ sailed long time ago. They’ve made it clear that there’s no room for me in their world and I sure as hell don’t want them in mine. All I want to do is go home.”

“I understand,” he says after a brief moment of silence. “I hope you have fun, Master Y/N. And please, if you get into trouble, call me straight away.”

“I will, Alfred. I’ll talk to you later.” And with that, you hang up.

You let out a sigh when the line goes dead. You hated saying things like that to the poor man, but it’s how you feel about the Waynes. Ever since you moved in, all you heard about Bruce is that he’s a caring man and a loving father, but that care and love only appears to be for those he deems worthy of it. For someone like you, a bastard born from a careless one-night stand, he has nothing but neglect and indifference.

And the same goes for the others. They’re all a dysfunctional hodgepodge that are saturated with so much trauma and paranoia that it’s a miracle that they haven’t killed each other yet. You’re sure if they were locked up in Arkham and studied, they could fill an entire library’s worth of psychological textbooks.

(You should not concern yourself with them. They have made it clear that they are not worthy of your love or forgiveness. After so many years of suffering, you are so close to breaking free from your prison. By this time tomorrow, you will be back where you belong.)

“Yeah, back home. Finally.”

After thirty grueling minutes of dealing with Gotham’s traffic, you finally reach your destination: Bat Burger. As much as you hate any mention of Batman, Gotham’s cashed in on the “Bat Craze” and inserts him into anything they can. At least the food’s good; almost good enough to make you ignore the cartoonish Batfamily designs on all the walls. Emphasis on the almost.

“Welcome to Bat Burger,” the teenage cashier, dressed in a uniform designed around Batman, says in a monotone voice as you approach the counter. A brief look in his eyes tells you he’d rather be anywhere else right now. “How can I bring justice to your hunger today?”

“Can I get a Batburger with ketchup, large fries, and a large Bat Cola?”

“Do you want to Jokerize those fries,” he asks as he types in your order.

“No thanks.” You hand him a hundred dollar bill. “I don’t need the change. Keep it as a tip.”

“Oh,” he exclaims, the dead look in his eye gone, replaced by shock. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you respond, happy to see such a transformation in the teen.

“Thank you,” he stutters as he hands you your cup for your drink. “Your food’ll be out in a minute. Let me know if you need anything else.”

You nod as you take the cup to the drink station.

(That was quite charitable of you,) the Megamycete remarks as you fill up your cup. (Such an action is rare in this city.)

“He looked like he needed it. I know what it’s like to be that miserable. Plus, it’s not like we’re hurting for money. If I ever run low, I still have plenty of Bruce’s secrets I can sell to Lex for a couple million.”

(Indeed. It would appear he had many of his employees working on secret projects that were not meant to be released. Perhaps such things were only meant for his nightly activities?)

“Wouldn’t doubt it,” you say as you sit down. “Kinda surprised no one’s figured it out. Batman’s toys look expensive and there’s not that many people in Gotham that could foot a bill that big other than Bruce Wayne.”

Not long after that, your order was called and you collected your fast food goodness. You practically moan as you take your first bite.

(This is quite appealing,) it says as you take another bite. (Savoring the food in real time is far batter than savoring it from the memories of the deceased.)

“I’ve wanted to come here for a while,” you say as you take a few fries. “Always saw the garbage cans full of Batburger bags when they came back from patrol. They never offered to take me and I never asked.”

(Their loss, we assure you. We can think of no better meal companion.)

“Shucks,” you chuckle. “You’re making me blush.”

After your meal, you decided to go to the arcade a few blocks away from the restaurant, eager to show the Megamycete all your favorite games. Also, with it behind you, you might be able to earn more tickets and win some of the bigger prizes. Your stride’s broken when you hear screaming, gunfire, and people running from the Gotham Arcade.

“What’s going on,” you ask a man as he tries to run past you.

“It’s Joker,” he exclaims, his eyes full of fear. “He’s shooting up the place!”

He runs away as you duck into an alley and call upon the mold to form the armor you’ve been using a lot lately. As you walk towards the arcade, you look through the roots and see the Bats scattered across the city, handling other crises; meaning they wouldn’t be here anytime soon.

“Guess it’s up to us to save the day.”

(The Clown has added many into our archives, all of whom spent their last moments of life terrified and in pain. We think it is time he knows fear.)

You walk into the arcade and are greeted by with over a dozen bodies, all of them riddled with bullet holes.

“My god,” you say, stepping over two teen boys who look like brothers. “There wasn’t a point to this. This is an arcade, not a bank. He just did this because he could.”

You follow the sound of gunfire until you see the Joker, dressed in his signature purple suit, shooting at a bunch of arcade cabinets.

“This is so much fun,” he exclaims as he rips a bunch of tickets from the machines. “Don’t you agree, Harley?”

“Sure do, Mistah J,” his partner, clad in her usual red and black spandex and jester hat, answers as she slams her giant mallet down on a poor Whack-A-Mole machine. She bends down and rips out a bunch of tickets from the smoking husk and holds it up to Joker like some offering to an ancient god. “Look, Puddin’, I won so many tickets!”

It’s then the two lunatics notice your presence.

“Well, well, well,” Joker says as he pockets his ill-gotten tickets. “Not the costumed freak I was expecting.” He holds his hands up to his head. “You’re missing the ears and everything.”

The two laugh and you roll your eyes under your mask.

“Looks like Ol’ Batsy has a new brat in his nest,” she jokes. “So, who’re you?”

“Oh, Harley, his name doesn’t matter.” He pulls out his gun and points it at you. “He’ll just be another corpse.”

He fires the gun and this time, the bullet actually penetrates your armor and pierces your lower torso. You wince at the feeling of a bullet in your gut.

(It would appear the clown uses a higher caliber than the common scum of Gotham,) the Megamycete explains as it heals your body, stitching the wound closed and hardening your armor to repel the stronger bullets. (Funny how he possesses such toys after being in Arkham for so long.)

“Oh, you’re a tough one, aren’t you,” he says, seeing that you’re not going down. “Normally, his little birdies go down from just a little love tap. Are you sure you belong to Batman?”

Now that pisses you off. Bruce may have had a hand in bringing you into the world, but you’re not his. You’re so pissed, in fact, that you raise your right arm and call upon a long tendril that pierces the center of the clown’s chest and pull him towards you.

“Mistah J,” Harley shouts in fear as you bring Joker to your face. She’s obviously paralyzed by fear because she stands there, doing nothing but watching the scene unfold before her.

His pasty white chin is covered in blood as it pours from his mouth and his eyes are wide as saucers.

“Now ain’t that a surprise,” he says with a chuckle, causing him to cough up blood.

“Get this through your sick and twisted head, clown,” you hiss. “I’m not Batman’s anything. There’s no words in any language that can express how much I hate him.”

You twist the tendril and take pleasure in watching him wince in pain.

(He fears you more than the Bat right now. Good. You are far superior than that worm and his collection of misfits. You always were.)

You feel yourself grin at that. You are better than them, aren’t you?

“And as much as I hate to admit it, Jason was right on how to deal with you. When you have a tumor, you don’t dress up in some stupid costume and beat it until it stops being a tumor.” You lift him far above, his head almost touching the ceiling. He flails around, but your tendril holds him in place. “You take a knife and cut it out.”

And with that, your tendril sprouts dozens of smaller ones that burst through his body, rendering it full of holes that it looks like a blood soaked piece of Swiss cheese. Said tendrils twist around until what was once the Joker is reduced to chunks of meat.

“Mister J,” Harley shouts, her voice full of agony, as his remains fall to the floor, landing with a wet splat. She looks at the pile of flesh, tears streaming from her eyes before turning to you, her gaze full of hate. “You bastard!”

She charges at you, her mallet raised and ready to strike, but you wrap her in your tendril, stopping her advance and making her drop her weapon. She struggles and as she does, she lets out loud sobs; ones were intimately familiar with. You let out similar ones when you lost your Momma and over the years you’ve spent in Wayne Manor.

“You killed my Puddin’,” she weeps. “When Bats hears about this, he’ll hunt you down like a damn animal! And when you’re thrown in Arkham, I’ll be waiting for ya!”

(She has a point. Batman and his flock are already looking for you and when they learn you have killed the clown, they will make finding you their top priority; they will marshal every resource at their disposal to finding your identity. Even if she cannot provide them with your identity, she presents a risk to our secrecy.)

You ponder on this as you watch Harley struggle against her bindings, her sobs now filling the arcade. You know the Megamycete is right; she’s a loose end you can’t afford, especially when you’re so close to going home. Plus, you know with Joker gone, Harley has no one to control her and with how racked with grief over the loss of her “love,” she’s a huge risk to everyone on Gotham.

You decide the risks are too great and command a smaller tendril to emerge from the one holding Harley, have it wrap itself around her neck, and quickly snap it, the noise it makes ringing in your ears like a gunshot. You release her from your grip and she tumbles to the floor, lifeless.

(It had to be done,) it assures you. (She represented a threat not just to you, but to the rest of the city. There is no telling how many people would have been hurt the next time she broke free from the asylum’s confines. Plus, the influence of the clown would have stayed with her, even after his death. She would most likely never have returned to what she once was. The rest of her life would have been spent mourning over the clown, inflicting pain onto the innocent, and escaping from and being returned to the asylum. You showed her mercy.)

You hear the words and in some way, they make sense, but right now, you don’t feel like you showed mercy. You’ve heard of the Tragedy of Doctor Harleen Quinzel, everyone in Gotham has at one point or another; the story of a poor psychiatrist new to Arkham who had been prayed upon by a manipulative mass murderer, turning her into his demented partner in crime and cutting a bloody swath across Gotham every time they escaped, leaving behind many orphans, widows, and corpses in their wake. She had spent years listening to other people’s problems and for once, wanted someone to listen to her, to make her feel like she was important.

In many ways, you can relate. Maybe in another life, you two could’ve been friends, wallowing together in your shared misery.

Just then, you learn from the roots that the Bats have been informed of the Joker’s appearance and are now on their way here to capture hm, unaware that you’d already beaten them to the punch.

“Let’s go,” you say, moving quickly. “We’re done here.”

In no time flat, you’re back to your car and out of the area before the Bats showed up.

“Sorry, buddy, but it looks like we may have to take a rain check on that night out.)

(We understand. And you should not feel guilty because of your actions. It is thanks to you that not only many will be able to sleep peacefully in their beds, but many beyond this mortal realm will finally know peace. While many threats to Gotham remain, its largest one has finally been put down.)

“Yeah, I guess.”

(It is also worth noting that we have only been joined for a short time, you have accomplished much more than Batman has the last two decades.)

That actually makes you feel a little better. Yeah, Bruce has been doing this for years and Gotham’s still a hellhole. In the span of a singe night, you make it visibly more safer. And to top it all off, he’ll be racking his brain trying to find out who the hell killed him and he’ll have no idea it was you, his forgotten firstborn son.

“That does make me feel a little better. Thanks.”

“Ok, when you find out who did this, can you please tell me so I can end them a thank you card before you lock em up,” Jason says as they watch what remains of the Joker being collected into a large evidence bag by GCPD while Harley’s body is placed on a gurney and covered by a sheet before being wheeled out.

“You know, I hate to say it,” Jim says as he dismisses a detective. “But I think this is going to make the city way safer. Hell, the mayor may want to offer whoever did this a key to the city.”

“It doesn’t matter if all crime in Gotham stops because of this,” Bruce responds. “It was done the wrong way and when I find out who did this, I’ll deliver them to Arkham myself. I’ll take Joker’s remains back to the Batcave, see if I can find any clues on the identity of his killer. I’ll give them back to you along with my findings.”

“Thanks,” the police commissioner responds as he takes the bag from a forensic investigator and hands it to him.

“Come on, B,” Jason whines as they leave the arcade. “Joker was a piece of shit and it was only gonna end with his death. Whoever this person is, do they really deserve to rot in Arkham over someone like him?”

“Whoever this person is, they took the law into their hands.”

“Pot meet kettle,” Jason mutters, but Bruce doesn’t acknowledge the remark.

“And this person clearly has powers. If they go off the deep end, there’s no telling what will happen. We need to find them before something happens and someone gets hurt.”

Finding this person just became their top priority.

This is it, the night you’ve been waiting for: graduation. It’s funny, when you first woke up this morning, you could feel every second of the day tick as you waited for the graduation ceremony. The only thing that made the time go by fast was you thinking about the conversation you overheard in the kitchen this morning.

Bruce and Tim talking about spending the day at their computers, analyzing every camera feed in Amusement Mile to look for whoever killed Joker. You had to bite your tongue to keep you from laughing. Here you are, the person they’re chomping at the bit to catch, and they have no idea you’re in the other room. You should be happy that they finally want something to do with you, but you know it’s only because you sent Joker to hell, something Bruce should’ve done years ago.

And when you heard that Tim was skipping the graduation ceremony to aid in patrolling? You immediately did a cartwheel down the hall. Not only will you finally be free from Gotham, but you won’t have to share the spotlight with Tim and risk catching their attention, though they probably would’ve had no idea who you were. Alfred tried to get Tim to reconsider getting Bruce to attend, but when those two are obsessing over something, it’s impossible to tear them away from it. The butler tried to tell Bruce that he had another son graduating, but the man left before the sentence could be complete, stating he had work to do.

At this point, it doesn’t even phase you. You know they’ve practically forgotten your existence and you couldn’t care less. You have everything you need to go back home and start your new life, you don’t need them for anything.

“Master Y/N, are you sure you don’t want me to call master Bruce and have him attend your graduation,” the butler fusses over your cap and gown for the umpteenth time. “As you father, he should be here to see one of the most important moments in your life.”

“It’s fine, Alfred, I don’t need him here. Frankly, with the way he’s acted over the years, I’m glad he’s not here. Same with Tim.”

The butler looks at you and you grimace at your remark. Ever since becoming the Megamycete’s host, you’ve noticed changes in your behavior. Where once you use to keep comments like that to yourself, you know say them in front of Alfred, unafraid for his reaction. Or how you use to always speak in a barely audible whisper for fear of being overheard by the Waynes, now you talk to Alfred at a volume that could easily attract unwanted attention. And you’re certain he’s noticed your change, too. God knows that man is aware of everything that goes on in his house.

(It is because you no longer have that fear. Before, you were a timid little thing, afraid of being seen by a predator lying in wait. Now? You are the hunter. They can’t hurt you anymore.)

Alfred opens his mouth to day something, but one of the teachers calls for all seniors to make their way to the field, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. He heads to the stands while you follow your fellow seniors to the field where you’re herded in alphabetical order. Once the teacher was satisfied with the order, she typed on her phone and the graduation music started playing from the speakers at the top of the stands.

As you follow in line, you look up to see Alfred in the front row, holding his phone up, no doubt intending to take several pictures and record just as many videos. You smile at the man, thankful to have him here on this important night. It’s then you think about your Momma and how she’d be cheering for you so hard, everyone could hear her. You feel something slide down your face and realize you’re crying. This is an important day in your life and you’re missing an important person in your life.

(She would be so proud of you. If your memories are anything indication of her character, she would give anything to be here right now. While the butler can never replace her, he is an acceptable stand-in.)

“Yeah,” you whisper as you take your seat near the front of the stage set up in the middle of the field. “He is. And I’m gonna miss him like hell.”

While you’re overjoyed to leave Gotham in your rear view and never step foot in it ever again, you’ll really miss Alfred. The man has been your rock since day one, celebrating your birthday which also happens to be the day of your Momma’s death. He held you while you cried and was your only company in the lonely halls of Wayne Manor.

Maybe you can hire him as your butler? Your smaller house would no doubt be much easier to clean than that behemoth of a mansion. Plus, Alfred is way more than people like the Waynes deserve.

After an eternity, the valedictorian finishes his speech and takes his place at up front, which is when the headmaster walks up to the podium and begins to call the students to come up and receive their diplomas. With each name called, you feel chest begin to tighten. This is the first time in years that so many eyes will be on you. What if you fall flat on your face while walking? Or try to shake the headmaster’s hand with your left instead of your right? Or—

(Relax,) the Megamycete says, bringing you out of your thoughts. (All will be fine. When your name is called, you will rise, walk with a level of pride none of your peers could ever hope to match, accept your diploma with such grace the headmaster will b in total awe, and walk back to your seat with the same pride as before. You are better than any of these children and you will make them know it.)

Hearing those words instantly makes you relax, your the knot that had been building up in your chest untangling, allowing you to breathe again.

“Thanks,” you say, taking a much needed deep breath. “Glad to know you think so highly of me.”

(We speak only the truth. We have seen the lives and memories of countless people over the past four centuries and not a single one holds a candle to you. You possess much potential and now that we are joined, we know you will unleash that potential and the entire world will be in awe of it.)

Wow. You actually have no idea how to respond to that.

(Pay attention, now. You will be called soon.)

It’s then you realize the headmaster is now on the Fs, almost to the Gs.

There’s three people ahead of you.

Then two.

Then one.

Then…

“Y/N Gould.”

This is it, your biggest moment in Gotham Academy. You stand up and walk with the grace the Megamycete said you would, accept your diploma from the headmaster with your left hand and shake with your right, and walk back to your seat. As you do, you see Alfred, a smile stretched across his face and cheering your name as he continues to hold his phone, probably recording a video just before your name was called.

(Excellent, Y/N,) the Megamycete praises as you sit back down. (We offer our most sincere congratulations on your triumph.)

You stare down at the piece of paper down in your hands and you while the evidence is right there in black and white, it still doesn’t feel real. You’re actually in awe of the fancy kind of paper Gotham Academy uses to print its diplomas, with its Coleen gilded edges, bold ink, beautiful calligraphy, and soft feel.

Hell, Alfred may fight you to keep it so he can frame it and mount it somewhere in Wayne Manor.

After that, the rest of the ceremony seems to speed up, the last of the names being called, the headmaster deeming all of you graduates of Gotham Academy, and the graduating class being told to gather behind the chairs for the moment every senior looks forward to: the Cap Throw. You follow your fellow graduates with bated breath, eager to throw your cap and complete your graduation experience.

“On three,” the valedictorian yells from the center of the crowd. “One! Two! Three!”

You eagerly toss your cap with everyone else, your cheers and laughs joining everyone else’s. You watch with joy as the caps soar above you all and begin to float back down to the field, your eyes tracking your cap, which you had decorated with paintings (the Megamycete allowing you to make them flawlessly) of the team you beat Cynthia from Pokémon Platinum with: Infernape, Luxray, Staraptor, Floatzel, Lucario, and Garchomp (you had no idea so many used the same team before you discovered the internet).

You collect you cap while so many try to find theirs and had towards the exit to meet Alfred.

“Congratulations, my boy,” he greets you, his wide smile still adorning his face, before bringing you into a tight hug.

“Than you, Alfred,” you respond, returning the hug.

When you separate, he flags down a passing man. “Pardon me, sir, would you be so kind as to take a picture of the two of us?”

“Sure,” the man says, taking his phone and aiming at you and taking the picture.

“Thank you, good sir,” the butler says as he takes his phone back.

He types on his phone and not even a second later, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket beneath your gown, indicating he sent you the picture.

“I’m so proud of you, Master Y/N. You’ve certainly earned this.”

“Thank you, Alfred. And not just for this, but for everything.”

You two leave the field and he follows you to the gym so you can return your gown and once you do, you two make your way to your car, which is when you realize this is the part of the evening where you two say your goodbyes and you leave for Goodsprings while he returns to Wayne Manor. And the sweet moment you’ve been waiting years for now turns bittersweet. You’ve looked forward to this moment ever since you started high school and while you’re ecstatic to finally leave this godforsaken city, you hate that you have to leave Alfred behind.

“Master Y/N,” he says, breaking the tense silence. “I know you’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, but do you have to leave right now? Maybe your return to Nevada can wait until morning? You really shouldn’t be driving so late.”

“We can put it off for as long as we want, still won’t change the outcome.”

“I know,” the poor man sighs. “But still, it’s over forty hours from here to Goodsprings.”

“I’ll be fine, Alfred. Really. I’ll be super careful. I’ll stop at a motel a few hours from here, take regular breaks, stop at restaurants to eat, and I’ll be there before you know it and in one piece.”

“I just wish I could convince you to stay. I’ll miss you, terribly. The manor won’t be the same without you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Alfred.”

You two pull each other into another hug.

“Promise me that you’ll call me if you run into any trouble, be it on the road or in Nevada.”

“I will.”

“And that you’ll try to visit whenever you can. I’ll arrange for Master Bruce’s jet to come and get you, you just say the word.”

“I’ll try.”

You’re lying. You’re lying and both of you know it. But, neither of you bring it up.

“And promise me you’ll take care of yourself. I didn’t raise you for over ten years just for you to end up in the hospital just because you didn’t feed yourself.”

“I will,” you laugh. You know he’s joking, he taught you everything he knows about cooking, cleaning, and housekeeping. That, combined with the Megamycete’s records, you have everything you need to keep your house together.

“I just wish your father and siblings were here.” You just did manage to fight off the flinch at the mention of those assholes. “This is an important moment of your life and they should be here to celebrate it with you.”

“I know you do, Alfred,” you respond, thankful that you’re still hugging so he can’t see the face you’re making at the thought of them being here, insulting you and making you feel like graduating somehow made you feel like a failure.

Finally, you two pull apart and with one last goodbye and promise to be careful, you get into your car, the backseat covered by boxes that couldn’t be placed in the trunk. When you woke up this morning, you packed your computer, video games, books, and other things that you refused to leave behind at Wayne Manor, your Momma’s pen sitting in your pocket as you refused to part with it. Sure, there were some things were left behind and while Alfred told you repeatedly he could arrange for them to be delivered to your house, you told him that anything you left behind wasn’t important and could be thrown away.

You didn’t leave much behind, some stuff like a few books you hadn’t read in years, a bunch of notebook paper with stupid ideas for video games that you had years and threw away when you realized no one in their right mind would play them, and an old journal you kept when you first move to Gotham. You archived every major event leading up to Damian’s arrival in those pages, which is when you finally filled it up. You briefly thought about keeping it, but decided against it. You had your stay at Wayne Manor burned into your memory and weren’t eager to have been more reminders around you. Plus, you’re about to start your new life, so there’s no need to carry it around. Maybe you can start keeping a new journal?

You start up your car, put it into reverse, and when you backed up enough, put it into drive and wave at Alfred as you leave the parking lot and follow your GPS to Goodsprings. That’s when your phone finally connects to your radio and starts playing music, Hollow from FFVII Remake, playing at just the right volume.

“Wow,” you chuckle as the music begins. “Talk about great timing.”

(We agree. This song is about heading into the unknown with hope; perfect for the start of your new life. It is as if fate itself is smiling down upon you.)

“Seems like it. You with me, buddy?”

(Every step of the way. Until the very end.)

And with that, you pick up speed as you get onto the interstate.

Alfred watches you drive off and only when you’re out of sight does he finally shed a tear. To see Master Y/N leave is one of the most difficult moments of his life.

He understands, of course. Not only did you leave much behind after the tragic and unexpected loss of your mother, but Master Wayne and the children had given you zero reasons to stay. In fact, they’d given you a million reasons to leave.

But he can’t let you go. Not his favorite member of the family.

He’d never admit it to anyone, but out of everyone in the Wayne Family, he cared for you the most. You were raised by a wonderful, loving woman who knew how to properly raise a child and didn’t skulk about at night, battling with criminals night after night. You had a normal life and knew what life was like outside of being a vigilante, bringing a much needed balance to the manor.

You were a delight to raise, always saying please and thank you, offering to help around the manor, and carrying on pleasant conversations that were the highlight of his day. And if the family would take the time to get to know you, they’d come to the same conclusion he did many years ago.

However, as brilliant as everyone in the family is, they can also be equally foolish. Too wrapped up in their civilian and vigilante lives to see the gift they had been given, but spurred for years. And now, you’re gone.

But not for long. You belong here, with your family, and by God he’ll make sure you know it, your father knows it, and your siblings know it. One way or another, he’ll bring your father to his senses, and when that day comes, he’ll make him go to you and beg for your forgiveness, even if he has to get on his hands and knees. And after that, your father will bring you back home, where you’ll be lavished in the love they should’ve shown you from the beginning.

He’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back home, where you belong. He doesn’t care what he has to do or how long it takes, he’ll make sure you come back to the place where you belong. And when you, you’ll be showered with so much love that you’ll never want to leave ever again.

A/N: I got lucky this week. I was going to have 4 tests this week (2 regular tests and 2 midterms), but a professor I have for two classes got sick and cancelled, pushing the tests for next Monday and Tuesday. With only one midterm left and a study guide basically matching the test, I had plenty of free time to make this chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it!

Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @prettyboys247 @paolexsstuff @c0l1fl0r @starryperson @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @greatwhisperspaper @tatsuri-zomushiki @starsdotalk @luna57765 @jsprien213 @lizz-lrm @chericia @lunaluz432 @orbitingtraveler @roseytheteacup @meechibee @bellethesleepypotato @exactlynumberonekryptonite @marsmabe @ellaprime7

[casscainmainly]

My Top 10 Batgirl (2000) Moments

This is my list of top 10 Batgirl (2000) moments!! There were so many to choose from, but these are my personal favs :)). Counting down from 10 to my absolute favourite.

10. Volving

An absolute classic. Perfectly encapsulates what Cass does throughout the entire run, and more writers should play with Cass' use of language like this!

9. Beat Up Every Mob In Gotham

Perfect encapsulation of the early Barbara-Cass dynamic, and one of the funniest moments in the series. Just love the expressions and the way this shows so much of Cass' character.

8. Choosing to Write

The entirety of issue #2 builds up to this heart-wrenching moment. After delivering a dead man's final message to his wife, Cass sees the wife's reaction to the written message and decides to learn to write. A foundational moment for her character, and a nice motherly Babs scene too.

7. Alpha Redemption

Capping off issues 35 + 36, Batgirl unmasks herself to convince Alpha (an amnesiac villain) that he doesn't have to be defined by his past. Brilliantly displays her core belief that people can change, and the fact that her belief pays off makes this moment extremely moving.

6. For God's Sake

Possibly a controversial pick, but I really like this moment because it underscores some of the fundamental conflict between Babs and Cass. They love each other, but they don't always understand each other, particularly in regards to each other's disabilities. A painful moment that should have been explored more.

5. Fight For Your Life

My favourite Stephanie and Cass moment in this run. You can feel Cass' grief throughout this hallucination, but there's also so much hope and love (for Stephanie and for herself). It's an amazing conclusion to Cass' initial suicidal tendencies: instead of desiring death, she now actively fights to live.

4. Darknight Detectives

This interaction sums up a lot of Bruce and Cass' best moments. Cass' unwavering moral beliefs, Bruce's pride, their instinctive understanding of each other; they just get each other in a way few others do. I picked this one instead of the 'instinct/good answer' moment because it also marks Cass' development in her detective ability. From Moment 8 above to here, the confidence in her mental capacities has grown so much. She really volved!

3. Perfect For A Year

I mean of course this had to be here. These lines literally take up 90% of my brain space, it's an incredibly tense moment that illustrates Cass' desire to be perfect, her need to be useful and good. This issue is also just awesome.

2. You're... Not

Another absolute classic. Illustrates Cass' compassion and her belief that people aren't defined by their lineage, which is particularly personal to her, given her own dad. This struggle between good/bad, parent/child defines many of Cass' best stories.

1. Who Do You Think You Are? + Father's Day

What else would number 1 be?? Issue 33 is my favourite in the entire run, and the entire thing is stacked with moments that could fill up this list. I just love 'who do you think you are' because it's all of Cass' rage spilling out, and yet she still loves David Cain in her own complicated way (and he reciprocates, too). Then we have the ending, which is the BEST Bruce and Cass moment ever. The sparse, meaningful dialogue, the expressions, the reveal of the TITLE: comic book writing at its finest.

Honorary mention to the Shiva/Cass fight, which just narrowly missed out.

[bet-on-me-13]

Captive AU

So, the GIW has been around for a while.

Ghosts have been a problem for centuries, the US Government wouldn't have waited until the 21st Century to figure out a way to deal with them, so the GIW has been around for years. And the general Public knows about them, it's a common household name like the FBI or the CIA. They are simply seen as another government organization doing its job, no need to care about the Ghosts they capture, they're Non-Sentient anyways.

Over the years of their existence, they have acquired their own little prison full of Ghosts. And among that collection of Ghosts, 4 stand out.

Because they are somehow Ghost-Human Hybrids.

The first was captured a while before the others. A College Student studying Ectology had been admitted to the Hospital after a Lab Accident, where he had been diagnosed with an, as of yet, unknown and incurable Disease. He had Green Boils popping up all over his Face, and he was in excruciating Pain.

The GIW had sent a team to investigate, and they had found that the College Student was slowly transforming into some type of abomination. He was still partially human, but he was also partially a Ghost. They had him declared Dead and shipped him off to a Blacksite Facility to be experimented on.

...

The Second One came about 10 years later. Coincidentally, it was very similar circumstances. The very same pair of scientists who had been acquainted with their previous subject had just admitted their 5 Yr old son into a local Hospital. He had been in a Lab Accident that had stopped his Heart for a few minutes, and out of curiosity the GIW had sent a Team to investigate.

And what did they find, but a perfect recreation of their favorite Test Subject.

They declared the Child Dead, and sent him off to the same Facility they kept the other one in.

...

The 3rd of the Hybrids was actually created in a GIW Lab, 3 Years Later. In an experiment to see if the Hybrids condition could be recreated, a GIW Scientist had taken the DNA of the 2 existing Hybrids and had cloned them.

Of the Test Batch of 15, only 1 Subject survived. It was deemed only a Partial Success, because while they did manage to create a New Hybrid, it was Unstable and prone to melting if overexerted.

They placed it in the same Containment Unit as the other 2, and left it at that. No more Cloning Experiments had been conducted afterwards since the project was deemed an overall Failure.

...

The 4th and Final Hybrid was found in Gotham City of all places, 2 years later.

A GIW Operative had been visiting Family when their Van's Ecto-Detector had gone off. Soon after that they found the Subject in an Alleyway, seemingly disoriented from its recent awakening.

DNA testing had revealed the Hybrid to be deceased Jason Peter Todd, the adopted Son of Bruce Wayne who had been killed 6 Months Prior while studying in Ethiopia. By the Scientists Best Guess, an Anomoly in Space-Time had caused a Natural Portal to open right on top of the Teenagers Corpse, fusing his Deceased Body and nearly formed Ghost into One.

They shipped the Teen off to the Blacksite, and placed him in the same Containment Unit as the others.

...

So now the GIW have 4 Hybrids, all created from different circumstances, all different ages.

One was formed from the Slow Death of a College Age Student, after a Lab Accident had flooded his system with Pure Ectoplasm.

One was form from the Instant Death of a 5 yr old Boy, after a Lab Accident had flooded his Body with a dimensions worth of Ectoplasm.

One was created in a GIW Lab in a Cloning Experiment. She was created to be 3 Yrs Old upon Birth, and was Unstable as a Result.

One was created from the Fusion of a Long Dead Teenage Corpse and a nearly formed Ghost, in a random Space Time Event that forced both together.

...

All the Halfas are basically a Family together. Vlad is the oldest, at around 35, and takes the Paternal Role.

Danny and Ellie are the Kids, and are 10 and 5 respectively.

Jason is the Oldest Child, and takes his Older Brother role very seriously. He is 15 when he is brought in.

They all take care of eachother, through all the experiments and tests the GIW force them through.

One of the most common experiments is to have them battle the other Ghosts in Captivity. Although that is just a thinly veiled dog fighting ring that the GIW scientists like to Bet on. Sometimes they are put up against eachother, but they refuse to fight until they are electrocuted into submission.

They were also forced to Push all of their Powers to their Limits every day, just so the Scientist can see how they are growing. This had drained them, since they only got the absolute minimum amount of Ecto to survive off of, and they were forced to use it all up every day.

This goes on for 3 more years.

...

Until the day when the GIW messed up.

During one of their Constant Dog Fights, they had made the mistake of putting two Electricity Core Ghosts against eachother. The resulting battle had created an Electromagnetic Wave that fried all systems in the entire Facility.

It was a Disaster. Dozens of Scientists were killed when the Door Locks failed to contain the captive Ghosts, and even more were injured when a few of the Ghosts managed to break into the Armory on Base.

It was only hours after the whole ordeal was Finally quelled that they realized that their most Valuable Test Subjects were missing.

Vlad, Danny, Jason, and Ellie had taken the chance to run away during the commotion. Vlad had unfortunately been injured during the escape, and Ellie had been forced to use her powers causing her to destabilize a little, but all in all they had managed to escape on one piece.

But now they were fugitives on the run from the Government, with an injured adult and a sick child.

Jason had an Idea though. While he didn't have very clear memories of his life, a side effect of his late resurrection, he did remember that he used to live in Gotham. And they all remember researchers grumbling about how their scanners always malfunction when they passed nearby Gotham.

So, Jason led his little Family to the most Familiar place in the city he could think of.

Crime Alley.

[alphynix]

Modern mammals are the only living representatives of the synapsids, but back during the Permian there were numerous other evolutionary branches – first the pelycosaurs, and later their descendant the therapsids.

Some of the first non-mammalian therapsids were the biarmosuchians, mid-sized carnivores with a more upright posture than their pelycosaur ancestors. They had large canine teeth in their jaws and powerful bites, and some of them also developed elaborate ornamentation on their skulls, with various bony bumps and crests adorning their faces.

Pachydectes elsi was a 1.5m long (~5') biarmosuchian living in what is now South Africa during the late Permian, about 265 million years ago. Bone texture indicates its head ornamentation was covered by either tough thickened skin or a keratinous sheath, and the large bulbous bosses on the sides of its snout had a particularly rich blood supply, suggesting these structures could have been continuously growing throughout its entire life.

But despite how well-protected it looked, Pachydectes' skull was actually relatively fragile and wouldn't have been able to withstand the impact forces of using its headgear for fighting or defense. Instead it may have been mostly used for visual display – and the blood supply to the snout bosses might even have given it the ability to "blush" them if they had a soft-tissue covering.

———

NixIllustration.com | Tumblr | Patreon

References:

Benoit, J., et al. "Early synapsids neurosensory diversity revealed by CT and synchrotron scanning." The Anatomical Record (2024). https://doi.org/10.1002/ar.25445

Rubidge, Bruce S., Christian A. Sidor, and Sean P. Modesto. "A new burnetiamorph (Therapsida: Biarmosuchia) from the middle Permian of South Africa." Journal of Paleontology 80.4 (2006): 740-749. https://doi.org/10.1666/0022-3360(2006)80[740:ANBTBF]2.0.CO;2

Wikipedia contributors. “Biarmosuchia.” Wikipedia, 13 Feb. 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biarmosuchia

Wikipedia contributors. “Pachydectes.” Wikipedia, 7 Feb. 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pachydectes

[avaleigh16]

Dick: Is the plural of milf , milfs or milves.

Jason: Milfs.

Y/n: Milf is an acronym, you can't change the spelling to milves.

Dick: Wait, they're acronyms? What do they stand for???

Bruce: Mom in late forties, dad in late fourties.

Bruce: I learned that from the movie called M.I.L.F that I saw the trailer of in theaters probably 5 to 7 years ago.

Y/n: Mom I'd Love to Fuck.

Dick: WAIT, WHAT THE FUCK—

Dick: I NEVER REALIZED IT WAS ACTUALLY HORNY!

Bruce: Oh, is it not mom in late fouries?

Jason: What? No! It isn't!

Bruce: THE MOVIE TRAILER LIED TO ME!

Y/n: Bruce...

Bruce: THIS IS WHY I DIDN'T THINK CALLING PEOPLE MILFS WAS ALL THAT BAD BECAUSE IT STOOD FOR SOMETHING HARMLESS IT JUST HAD A SLIGHTLY SEXUAL CONNOTATION!

Y/n: I am entirely unsurprised that this is coming from you.

Bruce: TIM, DOES IT MAKE SENSE WHY I CALLED THE DIARY OF A WIMPY KID MOM A MILF NOW BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS LITERALLY JUST A DESCRIPTOR WITH FUNNY CONNOTATION!

Dick: The word milf has been ruined for me.

Jason: THAT'S ITS DEFINITION, IT CAN'T BE RUINED THAT'S WHAT IT MEANS!

Y/n: Y'all are dumbasses.

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

Y/n: Damain, what does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean?

Damain: I don’t know, I love you, talk to you later.

Y/n: Alright, I love you too, I'll ask Tim.

Damain: Wait- Y/n, no-

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

Jason: Swear words are illegal now. If you say one you'll be fined.

Y/n: Heck.

Jason: You're on thin fucking ice.

Jason: Oh no-

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

Jason: I owe you one.

Y/n: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Jason:

[petite-phthora]

Breaking news!

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first… murder? - part 19]

<< Prev | Next >>

Part 1

Ao3

---

In-chat nicknames:

WhyDoesClarkCallYouBabyGirl = Bruce

Discowing = Dick

BloodSon = Damian

TheHotOne = Steph

TheCuteOne = Cass

Omnipotent = Babs

Flashlight = Duke

Sherlock = Tim

---

“Good evening, Gotham City. Breaking news!

“The Gotham City Police Department has had a shocking breakthrough in the case of the mysterious disappearance of the notorious criminal mastermind, the Joker, after his escape from Arkham Asylum.

“The GCPD has gotten a tip, provided by an anonymous source, that confirms the Joker is… dead. You heard that right, folks. The Joker is dead!

“The photo on screen right now was anonymously sent out to the GCPD. It appears to be a zoomed-in picture of the Joker’s lifeless body, with another person whose identity is currently unknown being cut off.

“Now we can’t show you the entire image due to its graphic nature, but I assure you, the details are unmistakable. It’s him.

“After years of terrorizing our city, it seems we might finally be rid of this menace for good. It’s a moment many in Gotham never thought they'd ever see. Already, some are calling it a cause for celebration, a long-overdue end to the madness.

“One can only hope his reign of terror over the citizens of Gotham is finally gone for good. This could be the dawn of a new era for Gotham.

“Though the identity of the other person in the picture and the cause of death are still unknown, the people at the GCPD are working their hardest to uncover these mysteries. Stay tuned for more updates as we learn more about this shocking development.

“Until then, stay safe, Gotham. We may just have something to celebrate tonight!”

The camera cuts away, the headline “Joker Confirmed Dead” scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

---

5 days since the Joker DIED

TheHotOne: *picture*

TheHotOne: who did it??!!

TheHotOne: tim, ws it oyu?

TheHotOne: dick?! >:(

TheHotOne: babs???

TheHotOne: whoevre it wad bettr fess up!!!

TheHotOne: tping the manr….

TheHotOne: without me????!!!!

TheHotOne: this is betrayel og the highrdt irder

Discowing: Wasn’t me, Steph! 🥺 I swear 🙆‍♂️

TheHotOne: u swer on ur discowing suit? >:((

Discowing: Yes 😟

Sherlock: wasn’t me

TheHotOne: hmmmm, fair

TheHotOne: u probaby wuldve taken the credit for it if it were u >:/

Omnipotent: Why don’t you ask Cass and Alfred, Steph? I’m sure they would be of much more use to you when figuring out this mystery ☺️

TheHotOne: !!!!

TheHotOne: cass?! (:0

TheHotOne: was it you?!?!?!?!?

TheHotOne: how cud yu?!?!?!?!?  /(;o;)/

TheCuteOne: Not me.

TheCuteOne: Jason and brother-in-law.

TheHotOne: brother-in-law??!? o.O

Discowing: Brother-in-law?! 😱

TheCuteOne: What Jason said to call him.

BloodSon: Todd and his beloved are moving too quickly. This is extremely suspicious. We should not rule out the possibility of mild control or other enchantments.

BloodSon: It would hardly be surprising if Todd’s mind has been overtaken. I don’t suppose it would be too difficult. After all, Todd is rather simple-minded.

Flashlight: Despite the insults, I feel like Damian might have a point

Flashlight: This all seems to go pretty fast, are we sure Jason isn’t being mind-controlled or being taken advantage of somehow??

WhyDoesClarkCallYouBabyGirl: That is a very likely possibility we should not rule out. Oracle, how are the investigations into the suspect going?

WhyDoesClarkCallYouBabyGirl: And can my name be changed back now?

Omnipotent: I’ve gotten some basic information that I’ve already compiled into a new file and sent to the bat computer, but nothing of note yet. Most of it seems to be hidden behind a firewall that I’ve been trying to break through but it’s been slow going so far

Omnipotent: And for the chat name to be unlocked and changed you will have to get Jason to no longer be pissed off at you 🫤

Omnipotent: So I would get used to the name if I were you, B

WhyDoesClarkCallYouBabyGirl: And the investigation into the Joker’s murder and who leaked the picture?

Omnipotent: More dead-ends, though the edited picture seems to have been spread around from Harley Quinn, who got it from Jason, to some of her associates. However, it is unclear who exactly shared it with the GCPD

Omnipotent: Jason seems to be the key component to all of this, so you’ll have to get him to spill the beans if we want to get any more info on the case

Sherlock: *link*

Flashlight: What is that?

Sherlock: petition to make the day we were freed of the joker into a regional holiday

WhyDoesClarkCallYouBabyGirl: Red Robin, take that down. We will not celebrate the death of a person.

TheHotOne: signed

Flashlight: Signed

TheCuteOne: 👍

Discowing: Signed 😊

---

“I never thought I’d find another halfa!” Danny beams at Jason.

“I thought there were only 4 of us, y’know? And Clockwork never mentioned or implied anything on the contrary. I never thought there’d be another one of us, especially not seeing as you’re not from Amity, nor do you have any connection with my parents as far as I’m aware.

“How’d it even happen? I didn’t think there were any more artificial portals around other than ours and Vlad’s. Was it a natural portal? Or are there more ectobiologists out there trying to create a rift into the Realms?

“Wait, no, sorry, you don’t have to answer that. Stupid Danny. Forget I asked that. It’s too early for us to exchange death stories.

“Though, are you a halfa? You do feel a bit different. The ecto in you is more muted. And it’s strange that I didn’t sense it before, now that I think about it. But we can discuss that later. I’m so glad we’re the same, this is great news! It makes everything so much easier!

“I thought I was gonna have to keep my undeadness a secret from you for a little while before trying to gently break it to you and hoping you wouldn’t run away screaming, or have me sent to a psychiatrist again.

“Last time was so not fun and I can still remember Jazz’s unimpressed eyebrow raise as she saw I was her new patient clearly. But hey, th—"

“What is happening to me?” Jason’s trembling voice cuts off Danny’s excited rambling.

Danny immediately stops talking and looks back over at Jason. His eyes are still glowing ecto-green, the glow seemingly stuttering like he’s at war with himself over something. Jason is looking right back at Danny as well, his face stony though he almost seems like he’s trying to hold back tears.

But what stills Danny completely is the slightly shaking gun pointed right at his head.

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing @i23432i @imsotiredfanficlovertm @jaguarthecat @arkita-shadow @ilydana @jaitwin5 @apple-juice16 @mossy-bonez

[dallaji]

Save some room for us.

♡ bada lee x reader / NSFW❗

SUMMARY: This could’ve been a perfect night: it was your first time being invited to a sorority house party and you were promised alcohol, decent music and good company. So naturally, because nothing is ever truly perfect, your ex-situationship had to be a part of said sorority.

WORD COUNT: 7k

CW: ex-fwb, university setting, lengthy smut (like 50% ratio), both bada and reader are switches, relationship is the epitome of "its complicated", bada is a mess but please forgive her, author has never used a dating app before, kinda angsty?? hopeful ending though!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was inspired by this post by @moonsvrse but it honestly spiralled so um, i'm so sorry if it's not what you hoped it'd be (╥﹏╥).

————— ୨୧ —————

It was almost comedic, honestly.

When Minah had invited you to her sorority’s house party with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, you had said yes without a second thought. It wasn’t your scene at all, but you and Minah shared a Sociolinguistics class that became considerably less boring once you sat down next to each other. 

Usually a Saturday night was spent with your two roommates, eating at the cheap fast food joint around the corner of your shared dorm: you were always back in the comfort of your own room before the clock struck 11pm. For the sake of experience you decided, why not. Maybe you’ll finally get a taste of that wild university life.

Now, at 11:05pm, you were crammed into a sorority house with at least 150 other people: the bottom of your sneakers sticky after stepping in an unidentified puddle on the floor, speakers blaring whatever Spotify selected for the RapCaviar playlist that week, and a bottle of lukewarm beer in your hand. It was fine, though. Minah had introduced you to some of her friends who you had hit it off with quite effortlessly. One girl called Lusher couldn’t stop gushing over your outfit, though by this point she had knocked back quite a few drinks.

You were having a good time.

But it became comedic once you headed to the kitchen with the group of girls to grab more drinks and were faced with a ghost from a not-so-distant past.

Bada Lee was leaning over the kitchen counter, smiling sweetly at a girl chattering animatedly in front of her. She looked just as attractive as you remembered her. Perhaps even more so.

Naturally, your first ever house party had to be hosted by a sorority she was seemingly a part of. 

Really. It was straight out of a comedy skit.

Bada and you had met on a dating app about a year ago: you saw a picture of a girl standing tall in a dance studio while donned in a sweater, jogger and Jordans, and you had instinctively swiped right. You don’t know what Bada had thought of your low effort selfie - posing inside a coffee shop - but it must’ve impressed her somehow. You were matched by the end of the day. 

“fuck marry kill: han so hee, bruce wayne, me” had been her introductory line. And despite your answer (you had, in fact, answered that you would kill Bada), you did end up fucking after spending your first date at a dim sum restaurant. 

This was, coincidentally, right after she had confessed she wasn’t interested in anything serious right now. She had still wanted to meet you however. You were, in her words, “too pretty not to take out”. 

You didn’t have a lot of time to mull over the initial disappointment, because she was fingers deep in you later that same day; lips attached to your neck and a rogue hand fondling your breast. Regrettably, the sex had been ridiculously good.

Chin up, though! It wouldn’t be the last time. 

The second “date” was spent watching a schlocky horror flick in her small dorm, before you ate her out on the couch until she was shaking and panting underneath you; bad movie and takeout pizza long forgotten. What you had initially disregarded as an incredible one-night stand became a biweekly hookup for the 5 months that followed.

The both of you had set rules in place, though these were mostly driven by Bada: this was just sex. She didn’t have the time or the “emotional bandwidth” for anything serious. 

The problem was that the lines got blurred pretty quickly. After a month you had begun meeting up without the pretense of sex hanging in the air. You would rent some more schlocky horror movies together and actually watch them, popcorn propped up in your laps. She would wait up for you after class to go grab some coffee, even if her own schedule was mismatched. You had cooked chicken noodle soup in a pinch at her dorm when she was down with the flu. She would slip her arms around your waist from behind and call you her “baby” in the softest voice.

And yet, the rules were simple. There were no strings attached to this arrangement, and you would be reminded in subtle ways. While you knew how she liked her eggs in the morning and that she’d much rather spend her time on watching terrible TLC reality shows than studying for her finals, you had no clue who her friends were or what hometown she grew up in. Sometimes your text messages would go unread for days at a time, but she would still post on Instagram. Bada’s Tinder profile picture would change every now and then, despite her continuously finding her way back into your bed.

But it had been fine. The rules were simple, and it never really drove you to heartbreak levels of sadness. At the very worst you had been annoyed by her flakiness, but you enjoyed her company too much to ever mention it. 

That was until you woke up one day to find yourself blocked on Instagram, her account set to private without a clarification or even a final goodbye. You had sent exactly one text asking if everything was alright, but it never went through. Her Tinder profile stopped updating. The message was more than clear, and you were not one to chase someone down. You were much too prideful for that.

A few days after being locked out of her life, your roommate (who had taken it upon herself to keep tabs on your past situationship) showed you a picture of Bada wrapped around a girl who was everything you were not: where she looked soft, you were sharp edges; where she was exuberant, you were placid. And then everything clicked. She had met someone who made her want to go steady, and that person was resoundingly not you. 

You met your roommate’s eyes with such a forced indifference, it almost felt defiant: “Good for her.” You had mumbled, unpausing the TLC reality show Bada and you used to watch together.

Thus, exactly as she had bulldozed into your life, she had promptly disappeared. You, too, stopped using Tinder. When your friends asked about your dating life, you would shrug and say you didn’t have the time for it. But truthfully, the pit in your stomach became a permanent fixture whenever the topic arose. 

You carried on with your life; there were no “stuffing yourself with chocolate” or “locking yourself in your bedroom sobbing”, but the hurt you felt was akin to pulling back when a candlelight grew bigger under the palm of your hand. You felt slighted and confused, frustrated that she never felt an explanation was warranted. But perhaps this was your problem: putting expectations on a woman like Bada, who had never done the same for you. The rules had been simple, after all.

It had been 7 months since then, and you had genuinely not thought of the girl in a long time. Yet there you stood, frozen in the doorframe as Minah and her friends rushed into the kitchen. The way Bada was looking at the girl in front of her almost reminded you of the way she looked at you on that faithful first date. The girl in question, however, looked nothing like the girlfriend she had introduced to the world months prior.

You were normal about it.

So normal that you had traced your steps back unnoticed and hid around the corner with your back pressed against the wall. A guy you didn’t know gawked at you like you were a safety risk, but you were too busy trying to think of an escape plan to really pay attention.

“Bada! We were looking for you earlier— Wait, Minah, where’d your friend go?” You heard Lusher’s voice question.

“Oh? I swear she was just behind me.”

“Friend?” The familiarity of Bada’s voice made your stomach churn. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

“Yeah! Don’t think you know her, she’s in my Sociolinguistics class— Seriously, where’d she run off to?”

“Sociolinguistics, you said?” 

You couldn’t listen to it any more: you downed your beer with a grimace, left the bottle on a nearby table and then pushed through the partygoers. The living room was currently packed with people dancing, playing beer pong or lazing on and around the couch. It was busy enough to drown yourself in the crowd and thus slip away from Minah’s searching eyes.

You found a free spot on the carpet in front of the television and sat down unceremoniously, legs crossed as the partygoers around you did not spare you a single glance; way more focused on things you weren’t doing. Like having fun, for example. 

You suddenly became much more conscious of how loud the music was. It was absolutely going to leave your ears ringing once you were back in the safety of your own bed. 

Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you sent your roommate a tentative text asking if she was still awake and could come pick you up. You would give it half an hour, you told yourself. If she didn’t get back to you beforehand, you were honest to god willing enough to call an Uber.

You kept track of your surroundings, dropping your head whenever you noticed Minah or her friends move around the room. You could’ve sworn they were calling for your name. Luckily no one else in the sorority house knew you, so your cover wasn’t blown.

It took 20 minutes.

You had been scrolling through your Instagram feed when a beer bottle was shoved under your nose. Flinching, as if you were snapped out of a trance, you looked up only to meet the eyes of the one person you had been trying to avoid.

Bada had come to sit next to you on the floor while you weren’t paying attention, and held out the drink with a soft smile. There was a point in time where you were obsessed with that smile, but right now it was ticking you off. 

“Hey there.” She sounded painfully nonchalant as if she were greeting an old friend, voice loud enough to be audible over the music. You suppose she was, if you were to have a habit of making out with people you considered old friends.

You felt like a cornered animal; your brain urging you to just get up, walk away and call an Uber, but your body remained frozen in place. You took the beer from her hand with little acknowledgment, breaking your shared eye contact, and took an immediate swig from the bottle.

“Hi.” You muttered bitterly, staring straight ahead.

“Never pegged you as a sorority girl,” She was still looking at you, smile unmoving as she brought her own drink to her lips, “Minah invited you?”

“Yup.” You popped the ‘P’, turning the bottle in your hand to keep your eyes occupied. “Could say the same for you.”

“I moved out of my dorm at the start of the semester. This place is much bigger, so the sorority formalities are only a small sacrifice.” Bada laughed good-naturedly, as her head tilted to the side to get a better look at you, wordlessly encouraging you to meet her halfway.

You kept your eyes on your drink, fighting the urge to ask her what the hell she could even want from you. “Cool.” 

“How have you been?”

Was she really going through all the steps of small talk 101? 

“Fine, what about you?” You took another swig from the bottle.

“Okay,” Bada replied vaguely, but the amiable smile did not leave her face, “What is it you did again- Political science?”

You tightened the grip on your bottle and scoffed, tongue digging in the hollow of your cheek. She knew damn well that you had a major in Anthropology. The smart thing to do would be to get up and leave, but you liked having a retort ready: something Bada had said she loved about you in the past.

“What is it that you did? Computer science?” You looked up at Bada, who was very much a Dance major. 

For the first time Bada’s smile faltered. Perhaps it was something about the look in your eyes or the combativeness in your body language, but it was enough to downturn the corners of her mouth. She put down her drink. “Sorry, I thought—” She began, suddenly unsure of what to say, “I was joking.” 

“I don’t know what you think.” You retorted plainly. The words, which were clearly not only meant for the current conversation you were having, hung in the air like a dark cloud. “Look, I didn’t know you were going to be here. So before you get the wrong idea—”

“I’m sorry.” Bada blurted, but her eyes were no longer scanning your face and rather seemed much more preoccupied with the sleeves of her hoodie, slender fingers picking at the fabric.

“You already said that.” You sighed, not letting up. You didn’t like the sudden rigidity in her posture, but it was hard not to feel like your anger was well founded. 

“I know you wouldn’t know I would be here. It’s not like I…” She glanced up at the ceiling and gestured vaguely with her hands. “It’s not like you would’ve had a way of finding out.”

You arched an eyebrow, quietly waiting for her to continue.

Bada pressed her lips together in a fine line, worrying the skin between her teeth as she pondered her next words carefully. “I’m sorry for the way I left things.” Finally, she turned to look at you, her eyes intense and pleading. For a second your mouth went dry, vaguely registering how close she was. You wanted to scoot away, but her stare was begging you to hear her out. “A lot was happening— A lot has happened. I was a complete coward, and so immature, I- I’ve regretted it since.” 

“You could’ve unblocked me any time.” You spoke slowly.

“I could’ve.” Bada agreed, scanning your face. “Maybe I’m still a coward. But then I saw you just now and…” Her lips parted as she mulled over her next words: “I don’t know. I just needed to talk to you.”

The bottle of beer was becoming lukewarm in your hold. You didn’t like seeing this Bada: guilt and shame written all over her face and shrunken into herself. It seemed completely unnatural to the girl you had come to know for those 5 months, who did everything but make herself smaller. You desperately wanted to tell her everything was okay, but you knew you would regret leaving things unsaid. Even now, when you think back to the moment where you found yourself locked out of all her accounts, you could feel your heart plummeting down your chest so vividly; as if you were experiencing it all over again.

“You didn’t owe me a lot,” You admitted, attempting to hide the quiver in your voice, feeling silly as soon as the words had left you, “but you could’ve said something. Anything.” 

“Yes.” Her voice was almost a whisper, eyes downcast. “I want to tell you everything that was going through my mind at the time but, maybe not now.” 

“Maybe not now.” You concurred. Not because you weren’t near desperate to know, but rather the timing didn’t feel right. You almost felt like she had to fight for the right to tell you what had happened. She should have to fight for your listening ear.

“You have actually been doing good?” Your eyes met again, and something about the way she spoke sounded hopeful; prodding.

“I’ve been good.” You replied, unsure of how to navigate the conversation any further. 

You had half expected her to get up and leave with that, perhaps deem this closure enough to go on with her night, but she stayed put. Bada took another sip of her beer, the way her shoulders sagged an indication of how uneasy she felt. Yet she stayed put. You took this moment to take her in with a more discerning eye: her hair loose and dyed in streaks as opposed to the blonde head of hair you had met her with. She was in an oversized t-shirt and baggy pants, bright tech sneakers carrying over the colors of her outfit. Just as she had been in the past, she was your polar opposite. You were all sleek lines, minimalism and soft colors, your belted loose-fitting dress pants not fitting the energy of the party whatsoever.

Then, you noticed something colorful on her forearm.

“Is that a breakup tattoo?” You blurted dryly, eyes glued to the intricate wave drawn on her skin.

Bada chuckled, holding out her arm with a smile. “Something like that.” 

“Never pegged you as the type.” You parroted the drawl of the same words she had used earlier, and Bada shook her head with a disbelieving grin. “When’d you get it?”

Her grin wavered, slowly morphing into something more calculating as she tilted her head to lock eyes with you once more: “About 7 months ago, give or take.”

————— ୨୧ —————

You barely noticed the doorknob pressing into your lower back as Bada held you down by your hips, your lips locked in a hungry kiss as the muffled sounds of the party downstairs thumped underneath you. Your fingers carded through her hair as she pushed her tongue past with a deep, shaky inhale through her nostrils. One of her hands came up to cradle the side of your face, deepening the kiss with the urgency of a starved person zeroing in on their last meal: if they wavered, it may be frisked away from under their nose.

The kiss was all spit and heavy breathing, mouths gliding together fluidly as if you had choreographed this in the past. Bada hummed approvingly into your mouth as your hands found the hem of her shirt and pulled upwards, eager to feel her bare skin again. She broke the kiss with a wet noise, albeit apprehensively, and let you tug the fabric off, leaving her in a mere sports bra. Your hands smoothed along her waist, reacquainting yourself as she licked into your mouth again without hesitation, now both hands cradling your face as if she was marveling at a treasure. 

A particularly eager suck on your tongue made you moan against her lips, and Bada parted the kiss with a smug grin, half-lidded eyes scanning your features in amazement. “Your turn.” She whispered, gaze back on your saliva-slicked lips. 

Before she could kiss you again, you crossed your arms over your stomach and pulled your sweater over your head, revealing a non-padded lace bra; the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination. Something about the look in Bada’s eyes deepened as you both kicked your shoes off in a hurry, and she made immediate work of your belt: tugging at it roughly, your hips pulled forward by the force she exerted, before unhooking the clasp and throwing the garment on the pile of clothes left in your shared wake. 

She planted one hand next to your head, against the wooden door, as the other one clutched onto your waist with a burning touch, effectively keeping you in place. Her parted lips attached themselves to the crook of your neck and she let her tongue swirl against the patch of skin, drawing a quivery exhale from you. Baring your neck further, you allowed her to mark you up without a second thought, and she seemed to take that job very seriously.

“You haven’t changed.” Bada noted against your skin, her breath skirting along your earlobe. Something about the tone of her voice sounded delighted at the fact, and you felt your lower stomach warm up impossibly more. 

She kissed her way to your collarbones, your skin shivering at the sensation and letting your hands find purchase atop her shoulders. You let your head fall back against the door with a quiet ‘thud’, back arching when she sucked another hickey right above your cleavage. Then, her hands came up to your chest, squeezing your breasts together and watching the way your cleavage deepened. She bent over and licked up a stripe along the slit, tongue digging into the crease. You pushed your chest out instinctively, sucking in your lower lip.

Bada locked eyes with you as she brought her lips to one of your breasts, letting her tongue lap across the lace fabric covering your nipples. Your hand came up to tuck her hair behind her ear, your movements delicate as she licked at your other nipple, forcing them to stiffen under the heat of her tongue. Her soft hums reverberated against your skin, her thumbs digging right below the hem of your bra and skirting along your underbreasts.

Impatiently you brought your hand up to your back and unclasped your bra. Bada moved away, watching the fabric drop to the floor with a bemused expression, but her hands immediately pressed over your breasts in a possessive manner, kneading the flesh before locking your lips once again. Teeth clashed together, the desperation in both your ministrations making the kiss so uncoordinated you were both left panting. She nudged her hips against yours, writhing against you as your name left her lips.

Your fingers meaningfully hooked underneath the straps of her sports bra. “Your turn.” You mimicked her request from earlier, and she obeyed with a pompous grin. 

But as usual, she had to one up you with a burning defiance in her eyes: she hooked her thumbs into her pants and tugged them off, underwear following suit. Eager hands grabbed onto your hips again as she rotated your positions; your back facing the bed.

“Try to keep up.” She whispered hotly against your mouth, the two of you immediately turning into a mess of limbs and unfocused kisses as she steadily walked you towards her bed. 

The back of your knees hit the edge of her mattress, and you toppled backwards, barely able to register your new position before nimble fingers began unbuttoning your dress pants. Resting on your forearms, you raised your hips to give her easy access and soon enough she pulled off your final garments with haste; leaving the both of you completely bare.

You scooted backwards as Bada climbed on top of you, your arms instinctively wrapping around her waist as she leaned down to kiss your lips, her ass resting in your lap. You had no time to feel skittish about the state you were in, much too familiar with the scenario as Bada’s well acquainted touch found its way to your breasts again, rolling your nipples between her fingers. You missed this, but you would never admit that to her.

Suddenly, she parted the kiss to instead look down at you contemplatively. You tilted your head, a snarky response on the tip of your tongue before the palm of her hand pressed down right above your chest, halting your actions. Her eyes scanned along your figure ravenously, and you, too, took her in: she was somehow both lean and soft, her hair falling over her shoulders like a curtain, strong thighs keeping your hips in place. She was beautiful.

“Do you trust me?” She asked, forefinger tilting your chin upwards.

“No.” You replied honestly, not breaking eye contact.

She grinned wider, finding tremendous joy in your words before she climbed off of you. Leaning over her bed, she began rummaging through her bedside table drawer as you sat up, watching her curiously. You heard a clanging noise when she pulled something silvery out, hiding it behind her back before you could properly register what it was.

“Turn around for me.” She requested, and because you were all bark and no bite, you obeyed.

As soon as your back was facing her, you felt her gentle touch grab a hold of both your wrists, crossing them against your lower back. You felt the cold press of something sharp close around them and lock into place, and heat pooled in your lower stomach, immediately recognizing what she was doing. 

You looked down at the handcuffs wrapped around your wrists over your shoulder before meeting Bada’s smug grin and blown pupils: as if her wildest dreams had just come true. She looked like she was ready to devour you. 

“How many girls wore this before me?” You asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She responded blithely, letting your fingers tangle together affectionately as she pressed a sweet kiss on your bare shoulder.

“Maybe I would.”

“Why does it matter if none of them look even half as good as you do?” She gave the cuffs a playful tug, nuzzling the back of your neck fondly before moving to lie down flat on her back; a hand pressed on your shoulder signaling you to stay put.

“And how many girls have you told the same thing?” You wondered loudly, unable to hide your own smile when Bada laughed at your words.

“Seems I have a lot to make up to you.” Her hands grabbed onto your hips and she began pulling you backwards. “Get on top of me, baby.”

Once again you obeyed because, well, she did have a lot to make up to you. And the way she called you 'baby' had you dripping.

Through her guiding motions, you scooted back on your knees until they were pressing down on either side of her head; Bada’s hands immediately came up to smooth along your curves until she cupped your ass, watching the jiggle as if she was hypnotized. Her eager touch almost made you purr, and you instinctively straightened your back to move all your weight to your legs, opening up for her as your arms were inebriated by the tight hold of Bada’s handcuffs.

“Good girl.” She crooned. And then, her hand came down to slap your ass. 

You let out a surprised gasp but didn’t move. Bada hummed from beneath you, appreciating your responsiveness and letting her nails scrape along the back of your thighs, feeling you shiver under her touch. 

“Unfair that you’re still so pretty from this angle.” Bada mumbled, mostly to herself. She placed her palms on your asscheecks and parted them, and you bent forward ever-so-slightly out of instinct, sinking deeper into the mattress. 

Bada cooed and before you realized it, her hand was on you. Her slender fingers dragged along your glossy folds and coated your heat with your own wetness. You sucked in your lower lip, effectively muffling a surprised moan, but leaned into her touch all the same. Then, she blew cold air against you, gloating over the shiver that ran down your spine.

“So pretty.” She reaffirmed, bringing her fingers to her lips and licking them clean, her other hand spreading your folds.

You almost expected her to ask you to start begging: she had always relished in breaking down your rebellious defenses until you would desperately beg her for more. This time, however, she seemed just as keen as you - if not more - to get her hands on you. Saliva-covered fingers pressed back against your folds and she began drawing circles across them with a maddeningly soft pressure. A shaky exhale left you, hands curling into fists at your lower back as you slowly began grinding your hips against her touch, hoping to find more friction. 

“That’s it.” She muttered, adding more pressure to her ministrations and beckoning you closer and closer, her other hand squeezing your ass.

With a particularly deep rub, you moaned her name and sank lower, the strain of holding yourself up while she was driving you mad almost unbearable. Bada groaned underneath your weight, basking in the way your hips gyrated with your heat so close to her face and she rewarded you by caressing her thumb along your entrance; circling it with more force as soon as she heard you keen. You felt heat course up your spine, immediately chasing her thumb through the grinding motions of your hips.

Bada, who had already found your most sensitive spot, giggled; prodding at your entrance with a forced carefulness she damn well knew you didn’t need. With a high-pitched whine, as the circling of her fingers against your clit sped up, you arched your back, wrists tugging at your handcuffs in frustration as she continued teasing you.

Finally, her thumb pressed into you, the circling of her wrist against you not pausing and you moaned, pushing your hips out impossibly further until Bada had to give your ass another forceful squeeze, urging you to stay put. She fingered you with delight and you felt yourself drip under her care, but what really made you twitch dangerously was the feel of her parted lips moving along your hip. She dug her teeth into your skin and slapped your ass once more, your body flinching inadvertently causing you to sink down on her finger with more force. 

You knew you looked like a desperate mess, mindlessly chasing down whatever she was willing to give to you, but it didn’t stop you from whining out her name, your lower stomach clenching.

“You better not be close already, baby.” You were surprised by how out of breath and wrecked she sounded while you hadn’t even gotten to properly touch her yet. You once again tugged at the handcuffs and you heard her tut. “So impatient.”

She removed her thumb and you almost cussed at her, but were quickly shut up when both hands moved to your hips in a vice grip, pulling you directly onto her open mouth. A moan got stuck in your throat and you almost faltered, nearly falling forward but forcing your legs to keep you upright. 

Bada began swirling her tongue along your folds as if she was parched, hands keeping your cheeks spread as she groaned hungrily against you. Bobbing her head up and down, she lapped at you, tongue digging into your folds before giving your clit a sharp suck; over and over again. 

“Bada…” You moaned, head dropping and only having half a mind to wonder if anyone downstairs could hear you. You realized you kind of didn’t care when Bada was making the kind of noises underneath as if you were doing her a favor.

You had stopped moving your hips, too stunned from pleasure to even consider it, until Bada began forcing you to do so; tight grip on your hips as she lightly bounced you up and down against her mouth. You began rocking back, cursing softly when Bada slurped under you, drinking at the wetness she continuously drew out of you.

You then noticed Bada had spread her legs with a hum, her own hips gyrating against nothing as she ate you out. She was getting off to this, and you felt yourself go all the more insane with want. She was so wet and you wanted to touch her so badly, but your shoulders started to strain through the position you were locked into.

“Bada,” You started, but another eager suck made you cut yourself off with a moan. “Let me—”

She caught her breath against you, chest heaving, still insufferable enough to find the energy to say: “Be my guest.” 

She dug right back in, this time her tongue prodding against your entrance, purposefully leaving you a despairing mess in your handcuffs.

You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of begging for a release from your confines so you dropped forward, face down and ass up, forcing Bada to sit up a little higher to keep her lips pressed against you. You heard her curse.

You didn’t waste any time teasing her, instead immediately closing your lips around her glistening folds. There was no need to toy with her, because her thighs twitched as soon as your lips met her heat, and you felt her moans vibrate against you. You sucked harshly on a bundle of nerves before collecting spit in your mouth and coating her with it, slurping around her breathlessly. Her thighs spread apart even further and you felt her lips falter against you, overcome with pleasure as she began grinding her hips up into your mouth. 

Soon you realized she was much closer than you had anticipated because she began sucking on your clit even harder, in complete and utter desperation, before digging her tongue into your entrance, nails pressing crescent marks into your asscheeks. You ground back against her mouth as you tried to keep a steady pressure on her, licking her with fast but deep strokes. You felt a familiar pressure tighten in your stomach and became involuntarily more erratic, muttering soft ‘uh-huh’’s to encourage her to keep going at the exact pace she was using on you. 

Bada whined against you, the muscles in her upper thighs tightening next to your head. “So close—” She gasped, and you closed your lips around her clit and began sucking. Simultaneously, she dug her tongue impossibly deeper into your entrance.

That’s what did you in: a moan got stuck in your throat as you felt your full body quiver at the orgasm that rippled through you. Bada let out a guttural moan underneath you, her thighs clenching around your head and toes curling as she shook incessantly. Rocking your hips back against her in a daze, she continued to suck on you through your orgasm as you lapped at her clit, soon enough the both of you shivering against each other from oversensitivity.

Panting, you dropped yourself next to her, your legs and shoulders straining from exertion. You were about to ask her to get the handcuffs off of you, until she crawled on top of you.

She was completely flushed, bangs sticking to her forehead, nipples perked and chest heaving as she pinned you down against her pillows, your wrists still pressed into your lower back. 

“Not done.” Bada managed to gasp out as she swept down for a needy kiss, your tongues meeting messily through parted lips. You did not know where she was gathering the energy from, but her hands were back on your hips to slide you further down the bed. 

She threw her right leg over yours and you immediately realized what she was trying to do. “Can you still cum like this?” She wondered coyly, angling her hips against yours before pulling your own leg up, hooking your heel over her shoulder.

Her hold on you was burning, almost having the potential to leave bruises behind, and you didn’t even know how you felt yourself getting wet all over again. The handcuffs were digging painfully into your lower back but you didn’t care, your lips parted in anticipation as Bada stared you down with such a deep longing it made your stomach coil. She twisted her head and pressed a kiss to your ankle, never breaking eye contact with you, before grinding her hips against you in a tentative manner; her folds gliding flush against yours.

You bit down on your lower lip as you felt her wetness grind against you, a quiet whimper slipping past and the smile on Bada’s face widened, eyes turning into crescent moons despite her own excitement. 

Yeah, you could still cum like this, and she knew it. 

She began working up a pace against you, first slow and deep, and then letting it build up to something faster. The way your mounds met each other had your eyes rolling back, soft moans falling from your lips as your hips ground against each other. Never once did her eyes leave you and you almost felt drunk off her attention, eyes falling shut as she hummed in pleasure.

The bed shook, headrest slamming against the wall over and over again with the quickening of her pace. Bada brought a hand to your breast, kneading it into her palm as she spoke lowly, her own eyes half-lidded in exhilaration: “Can anyone else fuck you this good?”

Your lips parted in a gasp, your desire so intense you didn’t even know what you wanted to say. You wanted to say something snarky, but the urge to burst into tears and tell her ‘only you can’ closed around your throat like an invisible hand. Bada’s head fell back as both of your hips moved impossible faster; her tongue dragging messily along your ankle in a complete daze as you panted her name.

“Answer me.” She gasped, the hand that was previously preoccupied with your breast coming up to grab a tight hold of your chin. And as if to prove her point, she began fucking you. Hard and deep, your body shaking with every thrust. 

Your brain was short-circuiting and you shook your head, eyes shut tight. “N- no…” 

Then, her hand moved to your throat squeezing lightly, but possessively. “Say it.”

Feeling her hips falter, you panicked and cried underneath her: “No one can fuck me this good!”

Bada hummed approvingly, picking up the pace again and sliding her hand to the back of your neck. “That’s my baby.” She leaned down, your leg still hooked over her shoulder and stretching along with her movements, yet the pace at which she fucked into you never wavered. “Stick your tongue out.”.

Disoriented, you arched your neck and obeyed, her own tongue gliding against yours in such a filthy manner you became lightheaded. Then, she closed her lips around the wet muscle with a moan, before meeting your mouth in a full kiss that was more exchanging saliva than anything else.

She parted and moved back, her hips pausing momentarily as she looked to where your vaginas met. Before you could object at her lack of movement, she lowered her head and slowly let her spit dribble from her lips and fall onto your folds. Immediately, she picked up the pace again, watching the way the added lubrication made the two of you slide together even easier. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.

Bada met your gaze with a wolfish grin and immediately switched gears to an unforgiving pace, the sound of wetness and skin slapping together filling the room as you couldn’t even register the music that was still playing downstairs. You felt the pressure in your upper thighs build up again at a dizzyingly fast pace, and cursed under your breath.

“Please…” You gasped as you threw your head back, unsure what you were begging for but writhing your hips against hers so frantically the message should be anything but unclear.

“Am I gonna make you come again, baby?” Bada panted, slamming herself harder against you.

You nodded, feverishly: “I’m gonna- I need—” But the words died on your lips as your lower stomach folded dangerously. You needed to come. You needed Bada to make you come. 

A palm flattened between your breasts as Bada leaned down on you impossibly harder, keeping you in place as her thrusts took your breath away. Without your body giving you another warning, you orgasmed a second time with Bada’s name in your mouth, legs spasming in her hold as she forcibly held you down; taking in every second of the ecstasy that overtook you with such a warmth in her gaze you almost felt yourself overcome with the urge to burst into tears again. 

“So beautiful…” She whispered. “That’s it.” Her hands caressed up and down your thighs, whispering praises into the air to will the heaving of your chest away, feeling your heartbeat under the palm of her hand. 

Finally, Bada dropped herself onto the bed next to you entirely out of breath with a self-satisfied grin, officially having spent the last bit of energy that was left in her. You watched her catch her breath with a fond gaze, wanting to reach out and hold her but being held back by the jingle of the handcuffs.

Bada snapped out of her stupor, almost appearing flustered for leaving you in such a state, and helped you sit up with a soft encouragement, promptly freeing you from your handcuffs. You felt a sharp strain in your shoulders as you shook them loose, a little dumbfounded when you noticed the red marks around your wrists.

Bada had noticed it as well and gently grabbed a hold of your hands, thumbs caressing along the bruises with a touch so careful it seemed she thought you would shatter. Slowly, she brought your wrists higher and began pressing delicate kisses against them. 

“Sorry…” She said, sheepishly, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to scold her. Instead, you looked back at her with a dazed expression, heart constricting in your chest. You hadn’t seen this level of gentleness from her before.

Leaning over her bed, Bada grabbed an unopened bottle of water and uncapped it before handing it to you. You accepted it wordlessly, her actions making you aware of how parched your mouth felt. 

Taking big gulps, you hoped to ease away the tension building up in your chest. Perhaps it was due to your post-orgasm state, but you felt anxiety spike up your heart rate as your head flooded with all kinds of thoughts. Was this a one-off? Was she going to ghost you again? Momentarily you felt like an idiot for even landing yourself in such a position, but before you could climb out of bed Bada flipped her blanket open.

“Tired?” She asked, picking up on how quiet you had become but assuming it was due to exhaustion.

You nodded timidly and crawled under the blanket with her, Bada slotting herself against you like a missing puzzle piece. Her fingers found the bruise at your lower back, where the handcuffs had been scraping against, and drew soothing circles against the skin. She mumbled something about having ointment for bruises, but the both of you were too slumped to get out of bed.

You nestled back against her despite the way your head yelled at you to take your leave, much too enthralled with the way her arm curled around your waist protectively. Bada giggled when she felt you snuggle closer and pressed a soft kiss to your neck, inhaling your scent with a hum. 

The music downstairs had stopped and the house seemed quiet, the last guests likely having left ages ago, so all you could focus on was Bada’s soft breathing which slowed down by the minute. Your own eyelids began to feel droopy, too, and right before the both of you fell asleep, you felt her hold on you tighten.

————— ୨୧ —————

Your eyes snapped open, heart hammering in your chest as you became aware of your surroundings. Bada’s arms were still around you, loosely, as she slept soundly next to you. It was still dark outside but you saw the early beginnings of sunrise setting in the distant sky, signaling it was the very early morning. As your hands came up to rub your eyes, you became aware of the ache in your wrists and mentally cursed yourself. 

This was easily the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done: letting yourself be lured right back into Bada’s bed after she had passed you off like you meant nothing. You couldn’t believe how naive you had been; how enchanted you were by her every time. Staying here was setting yourself up for heartbreak, when she would inevitably ask you why you were still at the sorority. 

You needed to leave.

Images of the night you had spent together flashed in front of your eyes, and you felt your lower stomach heat up.

You needed a lobotomy.

Slowly you grabbed a hold of Bada’s arm curled around your waist, the girl still sleeping serenely and entirely unaware of your panicked state, and moved it off of you. You paid close attention to her breathing, which remained even, and then deemed it safe enough to crawl out of bed. Your legs were wobbly once you stood, the strain caused by the position you had underneath her from the night before hitting you like a truck. You winced, groggily looking around as your eyes got used to the darkness and trying to navigate where your clothes had gone.

Before you could move to the other corner of the room, you felt a hand curl around your forearm. You gasped in surprise, whipping your head around to find Bada peering up at you through sleepy eyes. Your chest constricted painfully. 

“Where ‘r you going?” She slurred, waking up slowly as the grip on your arm tightened.

“I…” You began, but the words got stuck in your throat once you saw the realization fall over her face. She frowned.

“Please don’t go,” Bada pleaded, voice much clearer this time though still hoarse with sleep, “Stay the night.” 

“Bada, I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” 

“Please,” She repeated, and she sounded so heartbroken you could die. “Let’s start over.”

You gazed back at her in wonder, trying to search her face for more clarity but all you found was too much. The look in her eyes was so vulnerable, so desperate.

She gave your arm a tug and whispered: “We can start over. Please get back in bed.”

You carefully moved your arm out of her grip, but she let go easily: not because she wanted to, but because she understood it wasn’t fair to hold you hostage. She wasn’t crying, but the way she looked up at you made you wish she was.

“I just- I’m going to use the bathroom.” You mumbled and immediately willed yourself to look away. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

Your throat closed up painfully as you walked to the other side of the room and bent over to pick up your clothes. As you pulled your underwear on, you felt Bada’s prodding eyes in your back. With the rest of your clothes in your arms, you walked over to the door without sparing her a single glance, unlocked it and stepped out into the hallway. You clenched your jaw to hold back the tears from falling. The room remained quiet. 

You found the bathroom right across Bada’s bedroom, and sat down on the shut toilet seat with your hands in your hair. You knew that you weren’t being totally unreasonable— so why did you feel like the worst, most cruel person in the world? 

With a deep, shaky sigh you pulled your phone out of the pocket of your dress pants: it was 5:30am on the dot. Your roommate hadn’t responded to your text message yet, indicating that she had been fast asleep the entire time. 

As you searched for an Uber in the area willing to drive this early, your phone dinged with a familiar notification. 

Tinder.

You forgot you still had that installed.

You tapped the notification bubble and a familiar chat room opened up; one of Bada’s mirror selfies staring back at you at the top of the screen.

Today 5:36am fuck marry kill: kim tae ri, dick grayson, me

A breathless laugh escaped you.

Suddenly, you were filled with a clarity, thinking of the wave tattooed on her forearm.

You were willing to take the plunge.

Slowly, you stood up, leaving your clothes behind on the bathroom floor and headed back into Bada’s room. She was wide awake, face lit up by her phone screen as she looked up at you in apparent shock and gratitude.

You crawled back in bed, Bada’s arms curling back around your waist.

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Jazz and jason but jazz is alittle to similar to harly quin and bruce gets worried for her safty

So jazz decided to open a phyciatritrist offace in gothem and one of her patients is jason todd, over the next few months they talk about how he dies briefly after an accident and because jazz knowes about danny is able to help him alot

After a few months jason invites jazz to dinner with the waynes and jazz happily agrees

When jazz met the waynes it went good, until it started getting into jazz's personal life, phyciatritrist with a slightly traumatic childhood in a crappy town and basicly raising her brother for their parents, intelligent but naive and physically strong

Which is what harly quin used to be like before she went crazy...

Because bruce is paranoid all the resemblance to harly quin are getting to him so eventually he asks her about her love life in a way that makes it obvious he's concerned for her, which jazz gives a shocking reaction

Bruce: i don't mean to be rude but... are you okay in a relationship?

Jazz: do you mean, have i been abused by a partner???

Jason: bruce!-

Jazz: am i realy that bad?

Jason:... what

Bruce:... what

Damian: please miss fenton enlighten us into what you mean

Jazz: well when i was a teenager i got curious about dating and went put with a few guys...and they...weren't the most...intelligent choice

Bruce:*close to a mental breakdown* what happened?

Jazz: well it got...bad, like bad to the point my little brother had to beat him up so he'd leave me alone

Jason: wait really? Ok that's just one guy, you were young its o- why are you looking at me like that?

Jazz:*looking guilty* it wasn't...one guy

Bruse:how many men?

Jazz:about 4. My little brother had to get involved in all of them unfortunately, and my perents weren't the best at detecting bad partners.

Bruce:...

Jason:...

Jazz: it got to the point when i was going to college danny made me promise that if i dated someone he had to approve...he probably saved me alot

Bruce:... your brother makes people get permission to date you?!

Jazz: No! Oh no! He just asks i run them by him, he'd never force me to break up with someone unless he believes they'll get extremely abusive with me

Bruce: *thinking about how to meet this brother and subtlety thank him for stopping the creation of another harly quin* ok and is this brother of your's good with relationships?

Jazz: oh yeah, definitely, his girlfriend sam and him have been together for almost 5 years now, highschool sweethearts.

Jason: well how about we meet them

Bruce: yes it sounds delightful to meet this little brother and his girlfriend

Jazz: ok! I'll ask them to come for a visit soon

When bruce meets sam he almost has an aneurysm at how much like poison ivy she is

[anki-of-beleriand]

A Heart Made Of Glass ch.14

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision - CarolxF!Reader

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

This chapter is the concept of idiots in love.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 14

The thing about love

The world was in complete turmoil.

Norway became the home to non-secret agencies trying to discover what had shaken the foundations of the city while taking its inhabitants into a virtual reality prison. SWORD had taken over the investigation overlooked by Monica Rambeau and the newest director of the reformed SHIELD, Tony Stark.

For some members of the SWORD team, it was Wanda Maximoff the obvious author of such disaster, but for some others the truth might be slightly more complicated. It was easier to blame the one that had been on the run before the Blip and then come back to enslave a group of people in a fantasy world.

Natasha Romanoff knew the situation was far more complicated that what everyone kept on spitting out in the conference room. She left after it was quite evident no one knew what to do, or what was really going on.

The cold breeze from the outside came rushing through the door, she shivered blinking away the blinding white from the snow covering the land. The houses in the distance had been repaired and people was going back their normal lives. The world didn't stop before the hex and it didn't stop now that it was over and two former Avengers, one powered teen and a witch disappeared.

“Still nothing?” Carol Danvers came walking down a makeshift road, she was wearing different clothing but the perpetual frown of inadequacy and concern was still there.

“Nothing useful.” Natasha stepped forward welcoming the crispy texture of the snow under her feet. “They kept on babbling about who to blame, while Tony, Bruce and Strange are trying to find a way to open a portal to the right universe.”

Carol huffed approaching the brunette, “the right universe? That may take centuries! This is something out of our scope,”

“And that's why we have to be patient.” But even as she said this, Natasha glanced with apprehension towards the bunker then back to the direction where Y/N house was located.

Time was passing slowly but surely and still there was not a single workable plan to bring you and the others back. Whatever magic or powers had acted during the attack from Scarlet and Agatha it had left no traces to be followed, it was as if you and the others had disappeared into existence. 

Carol dropped her head, her arms wrapping around herself trying to contain the frustration she had been experimenting for quite some time. Natasha looked at her out of the corner of her eye, the blond-haired woman was standing small with the sight of the mountains and the white of the snow behind her, those dark eyes had never stopped glancing back at your home while her power flickered restlessly around her. Natasha knew your relationship with Carol was complicated, it had been for quite some time. The other woman had reached out to you in the hopes to be with you, Natasha had seen the countless invitations to travel through the universe with Carol as well as seen those stares filled with longing that you usually missed.

The door behind her opened and closed, a couple of soldiers left the protective barrier of the bunker to share a smoke. Natasha cocked her head frowning, her thoughts going back to you and the recent complications in your life.

The return of Wanda had been a surprise, not only for you but for everyone. Natasha sighed lifting her eyes to the sky, when did their life's turn so complicated?

“You're thinking too hard,” Yelena approached her sister, the bags under her eyes the only evidence she hadn't had a good night's sleep since your disappearance.

“I am thinking enough.” Natasha replied, Yelena hummed standing beside her eying Carol before settling her eyes on Natasha.

“Why is it so difficult to have any leads?” Yelena grunted, kicking the snow under her feet.

“Apparently is not easy to find the right universe they went through,” it was Carol the one who answered, her voice dripping sarcasm, “I guess there is nothing we can do but…”

“Wait?” Yelena shook her head, “I'm tired of waiting.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, she opened her mouth ready to answer when the air and earth around her started to shake. She frowned positioning her feet on the ground, flexing her knees and lifting her arms to her chest height. Yelena took the same fighting position while Carol stood straightened up with her eyes focused on the spot where a small whirlpool of sand was moving fast on the ground. Electric waves projected blue and silver lights through the air, while the sound of a vacuum filled the silence of the plain.

The commotion brought everyone to the spot where the two widows and Captain Marvel were standing. Tony put on his metal glove with Strange lifting his hands ready to form a shield. With an explosion a portal in the form of a five-pointed star appeared out of thin air and three people came falling on their faces just before the portal closed.

Just as sudden as the event had come, it went away leaving everyone open-mouthed, shaking with eyes wide opened watching the three women now standing in front of them. 

You smiled sheepishly scratching the back of your head, your eyes going from Tony to Carol then falling on Yelena and Natasha. The tension was quite evident, and the silence that followed the explosion could be broken by the fall of a single needle.

Wanda came right in with America closed behind, the cold of Norway sneaked inside your clothes making you shivered but you did not move. You knew the moment you crossed the portal you would find everyone waiting, you never imagined Carol or even Tony would be there.

Before you could do or say anything Carol came right at you, her frown softening just as her eyes twinkled with emotion. 

“Y/N?” Her name on her lips made you smile, though a sudden grip of pure coldness grasped your heart and a heavy weight settled on your stomach.

“Hey, Marv.” 

Carol didn't even wait for a confirmation or more words, her arms wrapped around you holding you with the desperation Carol had felt in the last couple of days and all the love she had always felt for you.

The tension broke, and soon voices could be heard though you were too lost into the embrace to make out any meaning behind the conversations, or to even notice the saddened figure of Wanda who was standing just behind you with her arms around her and defeat written all over her face.

____________________________

A part of you knew what was waiting at the other side.

You were really surprised to see Carol there, but what really caught you off of guard was the hostility with which many were treating Wanda and America. You knew some of the agents from SWORD were quite reluctant to accept any innocent claims coming from Wanda, they had been under the hex and had experimented firsthand the emotions and mental manipulation the witch had imposed upon them.

Their anger could be understood if not justified.

However, as soon as the three of you were free from the hugs and welcomes from everyone else, you were taken into custody to start the normal procedure of investigation. You had been lucky enough to have Natasha and Carol with you, their interrogation always going back to what had happened, where were you and how you came back.

It was a tiresome day, but by the time a new morning came you were happy to discover you were given a nice breakfast and a couple of explanations of what happened after you disappeared. You were tired of talking, too many memories, and too many thoughts invaded your head and it wasn’t until Yelena and Natasha put a violent stop to all the questioning that the agents from SWORD and SHIELD didn’t let go of you.

You rubbed your shoulders glancing at your reflection, the woman staring back at you was looking tired though she was also slightly sad. You sighed putting a strand of hair behind your ear while fixing the shirt you had put on, with a last glance to your reflection you left the bathroom only to stop startle at the woman waiting for you on the bed.

Carol Danvers had not changed too much.

The both of you had not seen one another for over six months. You had been tied to earth, while Carol was still trying to make of the universe a better place to live on. The both of you had clashed more than once, and passion had been the main rule in the relationship you two shared; but words of love and tenderness were scarce and sometimes whispered in the hidden shadows of the night.

Carol sighed lowering her gaze to the floor before lifting her chin to stare at you.

“How are you feeling?” She finally asked though this was not what she wanted to say.

“I’m better, I guess. Tired, and hungry.” You offered a smile approaching the other woman until you were standing right in front of her.

Your hand lifted to brush away her golden hair, Carol closed her eyes leaning into your touch while letting herself feel the closeness of your body. At some point she had been desperate to break into the hex to get to you, to save you from the clutches of an ex-lover you seemed to carry everywhere you went. Now that you were there in front of her, Carol felt you had gone to a place she could not follow.

It was at that moment, Carol realized she had fallen in love with you.

“Quite the adventure you have, eh?” Carol chuckled shaking her head, her hand grabbing yours. “I can’t hardly believe you were in another universe.”

You winced holding yourself from putting your hand away, “yeah, it was kind of crazy.”

“Which part?” Carol asked, and this time around she couldn’t hide the reproach on her voice nor the jealousy she had felt when she found out Wanda had been with you all this time.

“Everything, carol, everything was kind of crazy.” You hardened your tone, stepping back only to be stopped by the other woman.

“I’m sorry, I just…” Carol trailed off, and you let out a shaky sigh.

“Look, it was not easy, okay? First I got into a body that was not even mine, in a world I didn’t even recognize, to a live I never thought would be mine.” You lifted a hand to the back of your neck. “Then I come here to face an interrogation that took most of the day and night only for you guys to find out that yes, this is me. And yes, the multiverse does exist.”

“I was scared.” Carol finally stated. “As soon as I came here, you were gone then they started telling me all these stories about Wanda and the hex, and then how everything was just the same here, and…”

Both of you fell silent for a moment, your heart beating painfully inside your chest. You knew it wasn’t Carol’s fault, and you knew the one who was all defensive was you. You felt guilty because you had allowed your emotions to take over your reason and that might get the woman sitting in front of you hurt.

“I’m glad you’re back, and I’m glad you’re cleared of any wrongdoing, now that Wanda is under custody…”

“Wait, what?” You stopped Carol mid-sentence, Carol was left slightly confused just as she noticed the sudden hardening of your stare. “What do you mean that Wanda is under custody?”

This time around Carol couldn’t hide her annoyance, she stood up crossing her arms.

“It was quite obvious, wasn’t it? She had a history of creating these strange hexes, then she came here with a girl that can travel through the multiverse, whatever she was trying to achive…”

“It wasn’t Wanda’s fault.” You stated forcefully, Carol scowled rolling her eyes.

“Right, now you’re on her side?”

“I’m not…” You took a deep breath, “I’m not on her side, Carol, but didn’t you hear my story?”

“Quite frankly, I only heard the part in which you found out those twins of hers were actually yours and not Vision’s. In another Universe, not this one.”

The moment those words left her mouth, Carol knew she had said the wrong thing. Your whole body went completely rigid, and your eyes flashed a dangerous black twinkle that sent shivers down Carol’s back.

“I am not happy about the whole situation either, Carol. But I am not going to blame someone that had nothing to do with what happened here, or even Westview.” You straightened up walking past Carol to grab your jacket. “Now, I will go to straighten everything up, even if I have to break her out of jail and fight whoever I have to.”

“Don’t leave.” Carol wrapped her arms around your waist, she pressed her forehead against the back of your head. “I’m sorry.”

You were breathing hard, the anger boiling inside your veins while her words resounded inside your head. It wasn’t so much of what Carol had said, but actually the real meaning behind those words. Everything had happened so fast, everything had been so overwhelming that you hadn’t had the time to think, to process everything that had happened. You were trying to stop your spiralling world, but every time you got a chance to stand still something came rushing in to shake you again.

A part of you knew Carol was not to blame, not completely. You were looking for an excuse, for something to make you feel better and not as shitty as you were feeling at the moment because of the confusion you were experimenting. For the love you still held for Wanda, while your affection for Carol was not enough.

You turned around wrapping your arms around her, your lips found hers and soon the both of you were giving in the passion you always felt around one another. Carol held onto you with the need of a thirsty woman, and you held onto her with the desperation to quiet down your thoughts and doubts. The kiss turned into a full make-out session that led to Carol straddling your lap on the bed; your hand sneaked under her winter jumper her skin warm under your fingertips, twitching with every single caress.

“Y/N.” Your name left her lips in a needy whisper, and all it took for you was to hear your voice to know you had to stop.

You leaned back placing a single hand on her shoulder and the other one on her hips stopping the thrusting of her hips. She was slightly dizzy, her cheeks flustered with her pupils dilated, she had a silly smile on her lips nuzzling her nose on your neck. You tried to return the smile but couldn’t instead you brush her cheek with the back of your hand, leaning into place a single kiss on her forehead.

“What are you doing?” She finally realized you had stopped; you were trying to get away from her while being as gently as you could.

You opened your mouth to confess, to actually come clean and tell Carol how what you were doing with her was not fair. But the blond-haired woman put a single finger on your lips, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I just have to go back.” You said placing your hands on her hips, “if what you’re telling me is how things turned out to be I have to intervene, it wouldn’t be fair.”

Carol shifted standing up and moving away from you, she cocked her head shrugging.

“I guess is not, if Wanda did help you out and was not even involve in the whole fiasco it is not fair to pay for everything.” Carol didn’t leave out of her comment the partial fault that the other woman had, at least for what had happened back in Westview.

“Will you come with me?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Carol shook her head placing her hands inside the pockets of her jeans.

“No, I think I will wait here for you.”

There was nothing else you could say, and if she were to be honest Carol didn’t want to hear any more explanations. The blond-haired woman leaned in pecking you on the lips before nodding towards the door of your room.

“Go on, be a hero.”

You chuckled nodding briefly before putting on your jacket and leaving the room.

Carol stood inside your room for a long time, she leaned back against the dresser while her eyes fell upon the picture of you with Natasha and Yelena resting on the bedside table. Carol had known from the moment she laid eyes on you that a relationship with you would be dangerous, you had always been quite reserved and kept yourself out of any emotional attachment. Carol had been stubborn, curious as to what really was behind your cold façade only to discover a smart and funny woman behind it. She had fallen in love with your smile, your wit, and the way you always seemed to find the bright side of things even though your perception of your own life was quite poor.

Natasha had warned Carol about your broken heart, she had told Carol how difficult it was for you to actually open up to love again. But at that point Carol would take whatever you were willing to offer; she never thought there would be a time in which she would need to give up her relationship with you.

With a last glance to the picture, she turned around and left the room.

Love was a complicated it deal.

_________________________________________________

Yelena could sense your anger even before she could see you approaching the bunker.

From the very beginning she had been opposed to the idea of keeping America and Wanda in holding cells like common criminals. What happened in Norway had not been their fault, they had come all the way to the city seeking protection and help, and that was exactly what Y/N, Natasha and Yelena had done. America was a teen just getting the ropes of her powers, while Wanda…well, with Wanda things were complicated it. But at the end of the day, she was not a bad person. She just had really bad luck.

Yelena cleared her throat glancing at Natasha who was on her feet as soon as she sensed your presence. You were coming with silent rage, your whole-body trembling stretching your powers to the shadows inside the room. Two agents came at you, ready to stop you but were unable to move their feet from the ground.

“Took you long enough.” Yelena said looking at her nails, you snorted stepping closer until she saw Wanda on a chair being held with some sort of necklace on her neck.

“Well, no one told me about this, so it was kind of hard to come before Carol let it slip.” Your fists clenched close, Natasha stood by your side pointing to the cameras and then to the two agents questioning Wanda.

“She is going to be charged.”

“With what?” You replied shaking your head, “where the hell is Tony? Why is he allowing this? I thought he has some jurisdiction in these situations…”

“He does.” Natahsa stated softening her stare, “that’s why he is not here.”

You scowled glancing at her then at Yelena, you opened and closed your mouth several times before pointing a finger at them.

“You allowed this to happen?” The rage you were feeling increased, but before you could say anything else Yelena came from behind you.

“Wanda did.” Yelena glanced at you then at the woman being held inside the room, the questions and the gestures of her jailers becoming increasingly demanding and aggressive.

“What?” This time around you were confused, Natasha softened her features knowing that you had been confused ever since Wanda came back into your life.

“You have to understand that whatever happened to you three, Wanda feels responsible for most of it. She took her responsibility since she was not allowed to do so before.”

Natasha could see how your processed her words, she grabbed your hand in hers squeezing lightly.

“But it wasn’t her fault, Agatha…”

“Agatha disappeared, remember?” Yelena continued, this time around you understood there was nothing else you could say, you could suddenly read there was more at play than just Wanda turning herself over.

Natasha and Yelena were not in the room by chance, you looked out of the corner of your eye the guards still struggling against the invisible ropes holding them on place. When you turned over to the room, your blood boiled in anger knowing that as always there was a hidden agenda trying to get a hold of powered individuals. This time around they had set their eyes on Wanda, who wouldn’t want to change the world around them? To get a hold of an individual that could take your through the multiverse, the power to shape the world to your licking.

“I hope Tony has pretty good lawyers.” You stated before moving past Natasha, your hand lifted pointing at the door of the interrogation room and pushing hard until the door crushed the wall at the other side of the room.

“Agent Schultz, I hope I am not interrupting anything important.”

__________________________________________________________

Wanda wondered not for the first time how much hatred and revenge people could harbour in their hearts.

When she first broke the hex from Westview, she could see the fear in the eyes of the citizens as well as in the eyes of those agents she had captured at some point. She remembered the demands for her arrest, the harsh wording in which they were demanding for her to be imprisoned or at least held tightly unable to use her powers.

It had hurt, it was Lagos all over again.

The accusations never left, and the mistrust in some of the people’s eyes had always been there. It never went away, and Wanda had always been looked at with fear, resentment, and pity; she had tried her best, even with Steve by her side, it was impossible to get past such negative sentiments and thus she had decided to just keep to herself.

“What do you have to say, Maximoff.” The agent pointed to the file with his index finger, the agent to his side playing with a black gadget. “This would be, what? Your third time trying to break into the natural order of things and use your powers to…what exactly?”

The collar tightly wrapped around her neck sent jolts of electricity through her neck, shoulders and arms. It wasn’t the first time she was subject to such a gadget, and the memory was still burned deep inside her mind while the pain felt extremely familiar. Wanda held onto her emotions with as much dignity as she could muster, she could feel her power build up inside her ready to explode and let the men in the room why messing up with a witch like her was a mistake.

She was not about to show them she was the monster everyone believed her to be.

So even through the pain, and the questions that repeated themselves Wanda held herself proud and calm, hoping that Tony and Strange would keep their word and get her out of there without any physical fight.

“I think agent Cho asked you a question, Maximoff.” The black-haired man holding the switch of the collar asked leaning forward. “We need answers, what else can you give us?”

“Nothing else, agent Schultz, I already told your superiors everything they need to know.” Wanda clenched her jaw, her lips trembling lightly when another shot of electricity went through her neck and limbs.

“You are answering to us right now, Maximoff.”

“You were telling us about a different universe, tell us exactly what—” Agent Schultz stopped talking when the hinges from the door gave with a crashing sound and then the door exploded around them.

Wanda never entertained the idea of you coming in her aid.

In her mind, she had always thought you were happy with her gone, after all, that had been the deal when this whole ordeal started. She sat straightened up on the chair, her eyes to the door where you stood up with blackened eyes and silent anger all over your features.

“Agent Schultz, I hope I am not interrupting anything important.”

“Y/N! This is not going to be…” The man trailed of making gagging sounds at the black hand wrapping around his throat.

“I thought everything had been cleared out when I was taken into custody and given my testimony, I don’t understand why Wanda and America are being held under such deplorable conditions.” You pushed the agent back stepping closer to Cho who was trying to get the black switch while looking for his gun.

“I don’t think so, pal.” Yelena stepped on the wrist of the man smiling down on him. “I was waiting all day to do this.”

“Why didn’t you?” You replied crushing the device while approaching Wanda, your eyes locked with hers.

“And taking away from you the chance to save the damsel in distress? No way.” Yelena chuckled cuffing Agent Cho.

You snorted grabbing the collar while locking eyes with Wanda, the young witch didn’t say anything but her cheeks coloured red and her lips curled slightly. You winked t her, unable to help yourself before opening the device making a gesture of disgust.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your voice was but a whisper, Wanda shifted on the chair letting go of the breath she had been holding ever since she had been incarcerated.

“What could I have said to them?” She replied watching as Natasha and Yelena started barking orders around the bunker.

“Perhaps, that you are one of the good guys?” You could see the flicker of doubt in those green eyes, Wanda lowered her gaze lifting her brows.

“Am I?” She dropped her shoulders, her lips trembling as she continued, “I made a lot of mistakes, Y/N, I’m just trying to pay for them.”

You pursed your lips, this was not the first time you heard such words coming from Wanda and while at first you thought it was the minimum she could do after all the pain she caused you; right now all you could think was to take away the pain and loneliness that seemed to be written into those green irises.

“You have paid for them, Wanda, you don’t need to punish yourself anymore.” Without thinking too much about your own actions, the back of your hand brushed tenderly on Wanda’s cheek just before your fingertips traced the marks left by the collar.

“I still think there is a lot I have to pay for, perhaps…once I have paid off my debt you…” Wanda trailed off unable to continue, you opened your mouth to ask Wanda what she meant, what she wanted to say but before you could do it another set of footsteps came rushing in and soon the both of you were engulfed by the arms of a teenager.

“Y/N! Wanda! You guys are okay!”

Wanda hugged America back, her eyes locking with yours for a moment. Your heart skipped a beat, your hand finding hers in a single touch that lasted long enough to leave you yearning for more; Wanda from her part got hope ignited inside her heart, and once more, wish she was brave enough to do what Scarlet asked of her. To fight for you, to not let go.

To let herself be loved by you.

____________________________________________________

America had never lived so much in so little time.

For a moment, when she could finally stop to take a breath, she felt as if years had passed and she had been thrown into a rollercoaster that took her from open danger to the next one without giving her the chance to assimilate everything that had happened.

That was until she had reached your universe.

Yours and Wanda’s.

America took a sip from the hot chocolate she had been offered, the room was filled with some agents and civilians, all of whom were just grateful that everything was over and life was going back to normal. Or as normal as it could be in a world filled with powered people and aliens running around the universe; America pursed her lips, knowing full well that after Y/N had come to pull her and Wanda out of the interrogation cells something of great importance happened for soon SWORD and SHIELD left.

No questions asked, no more attempts to capture and incarcerate Wanda or herself.

America let her eyes wandered around the room until she noticed Wanda on the far corner of the room. The young woman was alone, with her eyes gleaming with deep emotion she was trying to conceal behind the locks of hair and the glass she took to her mouth every five seconds. With a frown, America followed the stare from Wanda only to see you at the other side of the room.

Unlike the woman she had been back in the other universe, or whenever she had to fight, this Wanda was looking defeated. It was not hard to know why, you were laughing allowing an intimate caress and hold from Carol Danvers who was whispering something into your ear while Natasha rolled her eyes.

You looked happy, completely taken by the blond while Wanda remained in the shadows.

“They are complicated.” Yelena stood by America’s side, her accent dripping through every word.

America pursed her lips shaking her head, “I don’t understand why it is so complicated.”

Wanda’s attention was soon claimed by Tony, the man sat beside her talking slowly with gestures of his hands ensuring the young woman was really paying attention to him. At that moment, your attention drifted to her, your eyes softening slightly while your body turned completely ready to make your way towards her. A hand on yours stopped any movement, and while it looked as if your attention was claimed once more, you couldn’t help but look back to where Wanda was conversing with Tony.

“It is not so easy to forget and forgive,” Yelena shrugged following with her eyes the same scene America had been watching all afternoon. “They had been badly hurt, I don’t know much about Wanda, but Y/N was really hurt by the cheating. She felt as if no one could love her anymore.”

America winced for the very first time understanding where your anger came from, sometimes people ignored what others were experiencing and they forget that the pain and trauma was personal and not just something that could be turned on or off at will.

“But they are still in love with one another, isn’t it obvious to them?” America let out a heavy sigh, “it should be easier, after all this time…”

Yelena snorted this time around she turned to face America.

“You really think love is enough?” This time around Yelena’s eyes softened slightly, it was quite strange to find someone so innocent yet so hardened by the circumstances she had lived.

“It should be, right?” America hesitated chewing on her lower lip, “I mean, if love is not enough then, why are we doing what we do? Save people, save the world.”

It should be that easy, Yelena agreed. Yet she understood why it was so complicated, the former Widow could see your hesitation, the tension in your body for staying beside Carol while the longing in your eyes revealed your real intentions. You wanted to go to Wanda, just as Wanda wanted to go to you ever since you had rescued her from the interrogation room.

Love should be enough.

And now, all they had to proof this theory was time.

But time was not enough, and sooner or later, you and Wanda would need to decide what you really want and what you were ready to give and sacrifice.

++++

“I heard you were saved by Y/N.” Tony sat beside Wanda following the stare of the young woman until his eyes found the form of Y/N. “She came in, broke the door and scare shitless those Agents before putting you out of harm’s way.”

Wanda blushed trying to hide away her expression, she couldn’t help but turn her attention back at you. It had been a moment she had treasured in her mind, the soft caress of your fingers while your words reached the deepest of her soul. She never imagined anyone would come to her rescue, much less the very same woman she had hurt so much in the past, yet here you were ready to break havoc as long as Wanda was fine.

“S-she did what any of you would have done.” Wanda glanced at Tony who merely snorted shaking his head.

“We left you with them, didn’t we?” Tony leaned back letting his eyes wandered to the window, his voice just above a whisper meant for Wanda only. “Everything has been straightened up, you have been cleared of any charges and if you want to, you can come back with me to the State or stay here…whatever you prefer.”

Wanda huffed shaking her head, “I am clear? Just like that?”

Tony shrugged, Wanda narrowed her eyes at the man pressing her lips together.

“What did you do?”

“What I should have done a long time ago, Wanda.” Tony leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “You have suffered enough, I think after everything you went through in the past, and what happened recently with Westview and America, I think you deserve a rest.”

When Tony saw the hesitation in Wanda he placed a hand on top of hers, squeezing tenderly onto her hand.

“It is time for you to be happy, Wanda. There is nothing else to it, but a chance that this universe is giving you to be happy.” Tony offered a smile, his eyebrows wiggling playfully while his eyes were pointing to you. “I’m not saying is gonna be easy, and it probably won’t end where you want it to end, but it is worth a try.”

“She is already happy, and she is with someone else. I just…I’m happy for her, I don’t think I will be bothering her anymore.” Wanda whispered with her heart breaking inside her chest.

The woman tried to be strong, while also feeling a weight she didn’t know she had been carrying lifted when Tony finished his speech.

“I want to thank you for what you did, even though you did leave me on that interrogation room.”

“It was for a good cause, believe me.” Tony clasped his hands in front of him, furrowing his brows with his eyes following your every move.

Even if Wanda refused to see it, it was quite evident for everyone all you wanted to do was to go to where Wanda was sitting. Your eyes had barely left the young woman before her attention was claimed by Carol, though the Captain was not being successful in her mission. It seemed as if you had eyes only for Wanda.

“I think you should speak with her, Wanda. This time around without missions, or the past getting in the way.” Tony finally spoke, making sure Wanda could no pretend she wasn’t listening. “You two lived quite the adventure in this other universe, and believe when I tell you, whenever you get a chance to see the life you could have, the love you could share, the children you could have…well, your life changes completely. Talk to her.”

Wanda couldn’t help but glance at Tony with a new hint of respect behind her green eyes. She had known the playboy, as well as the businessman and the Avenger; she had seen many faces of Tony Stark but this parental one was the one she loved the most. Wanda wished she could be as optimistic as he was, that she could see what everyone was seeing; but she couldn’t and her heart was not ready to take in another wave of heartbreak.

“I will do it but, I need a favour.” Wanda said with her mind already deciding on her course of action.

“Whatever you want, little witch.”

Wanda smiled sadly at the nickname, she turned to you and with a last, longing stare she turned to Tony with a request that left the man highly surprised and confused; behind such a request, Tony could make himself an idea on how the conversation between Wanda and yourself would end up in.

He couldn’t help but feel sad.

Tony had always thought you and Wanda were meant to be together, that the love you hold for one another could work miracles.

Now, all he had was a hopeless hope that you would let go of the past, and that Wanda would not let go of the present.

_______________________________________________

Wanda woke up with a gasp.

She was breathing hard, cold sweat rolling down her face and back. Her breathing laboured, burning her lungs trying to regulate itself while the images invading her mind stumbled one after the other. 

There was not a single noise around her, the room was filled with darkness, to her left she could see the flash of a reflection in the window leading to the backyard. The white dots of snow falling, breaking the otherwise blackened night; even though she could tell it was a cold night, her room felt warm. Unbearable warmth.

She lifted a hand to her face, touching with her fingertips the tears wetting her cheeks. Wanda wrapped her arms around her legs, putting them towards her chest, placing her forehead on her knees. The dream had been so vivid, she could see every single scene playing inside her head, her last chance slipping away through her fingers and she was still unable to do anything at all.

Her dreams had been plagued with the memories of Westview and the Blip, she had seen as you slipped away only to come back filled with hatred turning your back on her while walking away with Carol by your side. Her dream had shifted at that moment, and she was back in The Raft tied to a wall with a collar that held her in place while sending electric shocks that made her feel a blinding pain. You were there, laughing with Tommy and Billy glaring at her while asking you to leave Wanda behind.

Wanda held back a sob trying to put the memories of the nightmare away from her head. She tried to get a hold of herself, taking deep breaths while putting together a set of memories that soothe her soul. Tommy and Billy were the first ones that came to mind, her children had been real; they had existed in the way Wanda had imagine them at first, with you by her side rasing them as your own. Wanda couldn’t help but smile when these memories came with a set of pictures she had seen back in the other universe, the both of you had really gone through a lot of hardships, but always together.

Wanda broke into a half-smile remembering the sweet smell of your perfume, the aroma that was unique yours when she woke up in the hospital. The conversation Wanda held with you, while the shared company and closeness gave Wanda hope that things would be different; Wanda lifted her face trying to hold onto the tears while she finally remembered how you came into the interrogation room and pulled her out of the shackles that had been trying to hold her while she was being interrogated.

Wanda remembered that moment, her heart had fluttered with hope when you stood up for her. She had almost melted away when you grabbed her hand leading her to the closest room before offering a half-smile. Wanda had dared to hope until Carol Danvers came right in and you were swept away almost right away.

With a heavy heart, and tired limbs Wanda stood from the bed. Her throat was dry, hurting just enough for her to look for some water hoping she would be protected by the dark of the night and the tiredness everyone in the house was feeling early into the evening.

The house was just as silent as her room, and the darkness was only broken by the strange appearance of a silver moon that came along with snow. Her naked feet made a tapping sound, leading her way into the kitchen, the cold of the night finally reaching out her heated skin making her shiver. She furrowed her brows wrapping her arms tightly around her body until she finally reached the kitchen.

Wanda stopped dead on her tracks when her eyes found those of yours sitting at the table. Her heart skipped a beat, while her lower abdomen filled with butterflies, but with all of this it also came the shadow of her reality. Her eyes dropped to a spot on the floor, her mind and soul pulsating trying to get her to say or do something. The part of her she had shut was stirring restlessly inside her.

She didn't expect to find anyone in the kitchen much less you wearing nothing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Hey, couldn't sleep?” You placed your arms on the table, steam coming out of the mug you had in front of you.

Wanda was not looking so well, you noticed. Ever since you got back she had been all quiet, standing as an outsider while facing interrogation and examinations before joining the celebrations.  You couldn't help but notice how far away she looked, yet how close she wanted to be. She was looking just as confused and lonely as she had been the first day she got to your place, your heart shrank painfully thinking about her. 

 “I was thirsty, that's all.” She stated pointing with her finger at the counter, “I'll have some water and then…”

She wiggled her fingers trying to look everywhere but at you, her feet taking her hurriedly to the counter only to crash against one of the chairs. You were on her in a second, your arms holding her softly, smiling amusedly at her. Wanda looked mortified, her cheeks burning red and her hands trembling, unable to stay still while touching your arms.

“Sorry, I didn't see where I was going, I just…” you furrowed your brows, letting Wanda push you away while making her way to the counter.

“That's okay.” You went back to your previous position, frowning at the mug.

The silence that followed was broken only by the running water and the sound of glass being moved away. You grabbed your mug, taking a long sip from your tea, not moving a single muscle as you heard Wanda pouring the water and taking long sips from the glass. 

Wanda dropped her eyes to the sink, she didn't expect to find you in the kitchen but now that you were there she wanted to scream. She wanted to wrap her arms around you, she wanted to hold onto the memories she had of you two being young and in love, as well as to hold onto the life that could be hers if she hadn't messed up.

But she held herself, her knuckles going white for how hard she was holding onto the edge of the sink. She was too late, always too late.

No! You told me you will fight back, that you won't give up on her!

Scarlet's voice resounded inside Wanda’s mind but the young witch shook her head. She wanted you to be happy, and Wanda was not sure she was the person to make you happy. You had moved on whereas Wanda had tried to hold onto hope.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump startled. She turned around to see you standing there with your empty cup and concern flashing in your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, just…” Wanda sighed offering a shaky smile, “I guess I'm still shaking after the interrogation. I never got to thank you for backing me up.”

You offered a tiny smile, shrugging as if it had been nothing when you knew it had been everything for you.

“It wasn't fair how they were treating you, Wands. You did nothing wrong and people should stop acting as if you did.” Your replied was directed to what had happened recently, though you could see the weight of the memories inside Wanda's eyes.

“Some things were my fault.” Her voice dropped, her heart was beating fast at your closeness, the hand you still had on her shoulder.

“Some things we cannot change, nor can we control. Stop beating yourself up for that.” You wanted to add something else, but just as Wanda, you were confused.

Everything that had happened was overwhelming, it forced you to face a past you couldn't forget, it put you and your feelings for Wanda on the spot. It made you question why you were never able to forge a real relationship with anybody, and why watching what could have been in another world hurt the deepest part of your soul and heart.

You were still in love with Wanda.

But things were complicated.

“I guess you're right.” Wanda offered a crooked smile, she stepped away from your touch looking away from you. “I still have nightmares.”

Her admission broke your stance, you lifted a hand to her face brushing away some locks of hair while looking directly into her green eyes.

“That's the reason why you are shaking right now?” You asked in a whisper, your hand warm against Wanda's cold skin. “That's why you woke up?”

Wanda closed her eyes, weak under your touch and tenderness. She tried to answer, but you stepped closer and all her thoughts and reasoning left her weak on the knees. You softened your features, leaning in until your warm breath brushed against the skin of her neck and ears.

“I'm sorry you still have nightmares about it.”

“It's not your fault.” Wanda finally answered, her voice shaking. She lifted her left hand wrapping it around your hand. “Y/N…”

It was the tone of voice that broke the spell, you frowned stepping back a little. Wanda seemed relieved, though also disappointed, her green eyes begging you to not play with her. 

“Have you ever thought about what would happen…” Wanda started but you cut her off with a gesture.

“All the time, when I'm alone and I cannot quiet down my thoughts.”

“Are we happy in your thoughts?” Wanda knew she was not being fair with her questioning, but she needed it to know.

She needed hope 

“We are.”

Wanda leaned back trying to smile but coming off like a grimace.

“That's good.”

“Have you ever thought…” You started but Wanda was even faster than you on her answer.

“Yes, every single day.”

You tilted your head furrowing your brows with squinted eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“There hasn't been a day I haven't thought about you, about what could be.” This time around it was her the one that stepped back, she couldn't take her eyes off of you. “I hoped at some point I could win you back and perhaps everything would be back to normal.”

“Things cannot go back to how they were, Wands.” You tried to soften the harshness of your voice with the nickname but it didn't work.

Wanda winced looking down at her feet, she grabbed the counter with her hands her back to the wall and a single rute of scape available to her. 

“I know.” Wanda whispered, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “That was the moment I thought of Westview, I just…”

In the last couple of days, you had learnt so much about her and yourself that a part of you understood why Wanda had done what she did. Now it was easy to understand why Vision and not you had shown into the picture, why Wanda needed to be weakened mentally and physically before Agatha could do as much damage as she was allowed to before taken over. 

For the first time, in a very long time, you took your time looking at Wanda. Your eyes went from her naked feet, wiggling fingers trying to get warm to her legs covered by a single pyjama pants and a sweater, her face was pale with bags under her eyes that had always shone with sadness in them. Her hair was long, a little unkept, as if she had woken up, a copper-like colour that had always suited her complexion. Wanda was beautiful, and our heart twisted pleasantly at the sight your hands twitching at your side wanting nothing more than to hug the woman in front of you.

“Things cannot go back to what they were, but they can be different, Wands.” This time around you said quietly, Wanda lifted her eyes but she could not read into your expression. 

“What do you mean?” She whispered hating the bubble of hope that grew in her heart.

“I mean that we…I mean, we can be friends.” You backed away not daring to say anything else, not daring to expose yourself once more.

The bubble of hope exploded in a spiral of cold nails that went through Wanda's heart. Friends. That was all they could be, right? Things coils be different this time around, a moment in which you were only a friend destined to just not be close enough.

“That…that sounds good.” Wanda tried to smile, her lips trembling under the weight of her emotions.

You offered a tentative smile, “you can…I mean, now that everything is ready, America was thinking on staying over, so if you want…”

“I'll leave tomorrow.” Wanda rushed the words one after the other, her right hand fixing her hair while the left one picked on invisible threads on her sweater. “I…I talk with Tony, and everything is ready, I just…”

You stood expressionless, frozen on the spot while processing Wanda's words. The woman was babbling, never looking at you while bouncing on her feet 

“I promise you I will be out of your way as soon as this is over and, I think it is time, I just thought you should know.” Wanda winced, stepping forward, walking past you without taking notice of the pain written all over your face.

“Friends would be good, I guess…we could try it.” Wanda turned around only to see you with your back to her. “Good night, Y/N, sleep well.”

Wanda left and the coldness of the night followed her all the way to her room. She never got a chance to see the broken stare in your eyes, or the same coldness taking refuge in your heart leaving you open to what you really wanted but didn't dare to have.

_____________________

You didn’t say goodbye.

You were not ready to do so, thus you decided to just hide away and pretend Wanda hadn’t come into your life the moment winter began. It was easier than just face the fact that Wanda would leave you behind.

It wasn’t as if she owed you something, that had been the deal. You helped her and America and then, they needed to leave. You had been so full of grief and rage at that moment, you never imagine your emotions would change and that you would be faced with the situation you had been in.

Everything happened too fast for you to just think about it. And, when the moment came for you to do something, you just cowered away.

It was easier.

Running away was always easier.

By the time Wanda had arrived at your home, Winter had started. The days had been short, and the nights long and cold where the northern lights had been visible for most of the inhabitants in the North. 

You had been so busy with what was happening, that you had forgotten the magic hidden behind the green and golden lights that ignited the sky. Sometimes it changes into a pink colour, twirling above your home with a flicker of lightning just before fading away. 

You had chosen Norway due to its weather, and the quietness of the land. Not many tourists came to the fishing town, and the house you had bought was at the edge of a barely known road. It had been perfect for you to hide, and to run away; now it was looking like a prison, a place you could not escape from when everyone else seemed to walk away.

The wind was particularly strong that morning, it came with frozen bites on your uncovered skin. You turned around watching the mountains stretching through the horizon, the dark waters reflecting the darkened sky.  You had come to the lighthouse to think, and to forget.

But you were failing quite miserably.

The first time you walked away from Wanda, you had done so without even saying goodbye. This time around, you had run away before she could say goodbye to you.

You wished there was something you could do, something you could say to Wanda that would change the situation. But you weren't sure what exactly you could say, you and her had ended the relationship a long time ago, and right now whatever you two had was just a shaky friendship.

“Fuck!” Your scream could be heard through the sound of the blowing wind. 

“Why are you so frustrated?” Yelena was leaning against the wall, she was wearing a white, winter jacket with her brows knitted together.

You grabbed the railing shaking your head, your lips broke into a bitter smile. Of course, Yelena would be there watching your breakdown, Natasha had been like a mother to you offering her arms and shoulders for you to rest and let go of your pain. But Yelena had been the sister that made you face reality of what you were feeling, what you wanted and what you really needed.

“I don't know.” You turned around resting your weight on the railing, your eyes finding those of Yelena. “I've been thinking about everything that has happened, and I just…I don't know.”

Yelena nodded in understanding; she stepped closer to you crossing her arms. She was covering the fact she was freezing at the moment, her body shivering under the heavy weight of the jacket she was wearing. 

“You don't know or you just don't want to know.” Yelena glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, she wrapped her arms around herself pursuing her lips. “I think in the last couple of weeks you have to finally face a situation you had been evading for far too long.”

“I don’t know what I should do, ‘Lena.” You whispered frowning deeply, “everything had been clear a couple of months ago, I was happy until…”

“Until you received the videos?” Yelena set her eyes on the horizon, before tilting her head to turn her attention to you. “They were sent by someone inside SWORD, Agatha had more than one ally in the organization.”

“How do you know?”

“Natasha asked me to investigate while you were away, it wasn’t that difficult to find some of the records.” Yelena shifted the weight of her feet her hand sneaking inside her pocket. “I don’t think you travelling through the multiverse was part of her plan, though capturing you and getting Wanda, America and yourself in the same place was.”

“She wanted our powers, same old story.” You shook your head, “do they ever get original?”

“Don’t think so.” Yelena chuckled bumping against you, her face softening while she put from her pocket a single envelope.

“What is that?” You eyed the object with curiosity, Yelena pursed her lips before stretching her hand and presenting you with it.

“Before she left, she wanted to give you this.” Yelena frowned observing as your expression changed, you went from being slightly relaxed to a tormented soul in a second. “Whatever happened in the other universe, whatever happened in Westview, whatever happened when the both of you were young…I think, Y/N, you need to face the past and decide what to do with yourself and with her.”

You grabbed the envelope, taking care of the letter inside it.

“She left.”

“She did.”

“Yelena, I …” You couldn’t finish your sentence but Yelena was not expecting you to, she smirked shaking her head while rolling her eyes at you.

“The thing about love, Y/N, is that you can’t predict it, you can’t control it, and certainly, you can’t choose who you fall in love with.” Yelena said simply. “Now, it is up to you what will happen next, I think by now we all know what Wanda really wants, and who she really loves.”

“I thought you hate her.” You never took your eyes away from the letter, Yelena snorted shaking her head.

“No, I just didn’t like her that much, you were a mess when I met you.” Yelena stated turning her attention to the house. “She is not so bad, after all.”

You snorted shaking your head, with some reluctance you put the letter away wrapping your arms around Yelena, the young woman smiled allowing the comfort of your embrace while you two made your way back into the lighthouse.

The letter heavy on your pocket, your mind wanting nothing more than to know what Wanda had left behind. It wouldn’t be until latter that day that you would have a chance to read it and, by then, Wanda was too far away trying to hold back her tears while convincing herself she had made the right decision.

Wanda left thinking she would never see you again, and you read the letter knowing you needed to see Wanda again.

At the end of the day, it was about love, and what we did to get a little of it in our lives. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: You read the letter, Natasha reads the letter, Carol finds the letter, and Yelena and America are kinda desperated with you pinning for Wanda and not doing anything about it. Wanda is finally getting some peace, learning about herslef and her powers when, all of a sudden, she receives a surprised visit.

[batbabydamian]

DC July 2024 Solicitations - Comics Featuring Damian! 🦇

BATMAN AND ROBIN #11

7/10/24

Written by Joshua Williamson

Art by Juan Ferreyra

Cover by Simone Di Meo

Variant Covers: Juan Ferreyra, Travis Mercer, Christian Ward (1:25)

Bruce and Damian plan the perfect father and son getaway…to DINOSAUR ISLAND?! When the dynamic duo uncovers a deadly family secret, their investigation takes them on a fun-filled adventure to rescue one of Batman’s greatest enemies!

THE BOY WONDER #3 of 5

7/3/24

Written by Juni Ba

Art and Cover by Juni Ba

Variant Cover: Khary Randolph

The cunning Tim Drake has always been the smartest of Batman’s sons…and the most comfortable matching wits with the most sinister geniuses on Earth. Damian Wayne doesn’t like feeling outsmarted—to him, no smugly-written insult could ever be sharper than his sword—so when he’s forced to infiltrate a super-villain gala alongside the sneaky Red Robin, the biggest danger the two of them face might not be Lex Luthor but Damian’s own temper!

*John Timms Variant Cover appearance(?) + potential cameo

ABSOLUTE POWER #1

7/3/24

Written by Mark Waid

Art and Cover by Dan Mora

DC’s epic summer event kicks off with a bang, as the combined might of FAILSAFE and the BRAINIAC QUEEN has at last given Amanda Waller the ability to steal the metahuman abilities of every hero and villain on planet Earth. As chaos erupts in the streets and a massive misinformation campaign sways public opinion to her side, the founder of the Suicide Squad methodically targets each superhero dynasty one at a time, starting with SUPERMAN. But even in this darkest of hours, a resistance is forming…and BATMAN is out for vengeance. It’s a shocking blitzkrieg across the globe that is decades in the making—and will shape the course of the DC Universe for years to come! Brought to you by the superstar talents of MARK WAID and DAN MORA—it all starts here!

*John Timms Variant Cover appearance(?)

ABSOLUTE POWER: TASK FORCE VII #1

7/10/24

Written by Leah William

Art by Caitlin Yarsky

SUPER NO MORE! With the assault on Metropolis’s heroes complete, Amanda Waller’s latest living weapon, the Last Son, sets his sights on the other most powerful supers in the DCU…the Marvel Family! Will their combined powers be enough to survive this terrifying threat? In this biweekly series we'll see the ABSOLUTE POWER event through the eyes of evil—as told from the point of view of the TRINITY OF EVIL!

*Rian Gonzales Variant Cover appearance

NIGHTWING #116

7/17/24

Written by Tom Taylor

Art and cover by Bruno Redondo

Everything Dick Grayson has built is crumbling around him. His life is spiraling out of control and Heartless is at the center of all of it. Now Nightwing must leave his city. Can he take back the power he’s lost? Or will Blϋdhaven and its citizens be lost to Heartless forever?

[too0bsessedformyowngood]

Have some Batfam incorrect quotes from my friends and I

pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | pt. 6

-

Dick: "Go to sleep"

Damian: "okay” *gets up*

Steph: "What the hell?!?! I asked you like 20 times"

Tim: "So did I!"

Damian: "We'll I don't respect Brown and I older than you' *points to Tim*

Tim: "No you're not! I'm literally older than you!"

-

*Tim driving with Steph in front passenger seat and Dick in the back at a red light in the right line to turn the corner as people start walking on the crosswalk*

Steph: *whispering* "hit them"

Tim: *starts to turn*

Dick: “NOOOOO”

-

Tim: "Stop hitting me"

Steph: "I never hit you, Duke do I ever hit Tim"

Cass: "No”

Duke: *not paying attention*

Steph: "Thanks Cass"

Steph: *hits Tim again*

-

Jason: "Everyone's a critic"

Dick: "No I'm a hater, there's a

difference"

-

Duke: "You were sent jury duty three times and ignored it"

Jason: "Yah"

Duke: "That's a felony"

Jason: "Felony's are fun"

Duke: "Dude"

-

Tim: "hey god its me, your sleepiest soulder, our eepiest little man"

-

Bruce: "Both of you apologize to your sibling right now"

Jason: "I'm sorry mom didn't get an abortion"

Tim: "I'm sorry mom smoked when she was pregnant with you”

-

Tim: *working on homework, pauses for a second* "Do any of you know what the unit for Power is"

Dick: "Watts"

*all talking over each other*

Duke: "Great responsibility"

Steph: "What's the unit"

Cass: "Watts the units"

Jason: "No Whose on first, Watts on second"

-

Jason: "Doctors would love to get their hands on my DNA, like how did this man survive so long.' Ha, I fooled them, I actually died 5 years ago, I'm been a zombie this whole time"

-

Tim: "Say something stupid"

Damian: "All I would have to say is your name"

Tim: "Fuck you”

[fancyfade]

2009 era Damian reading

As I've been doing my 2009 era Damian reading, I'm trying to condense the good stuff and bad stuff, and things I believe are relevant for his character. These are in addition to what I assume is obvious (Batman and Robin 2009, the comic where he has a starring role).

Battle for the Cowl: this has how Damian becomes Robin. It's not necessarily good. Daniels really does not understand Damian, especially this early in his writing, but it does have some important context for things going down b/c Damian helps Squire save Tim's life, and we can see Dick viewing training Damian as something he is responsible for.

Secret Origins (2014) #4: This is a much more in character Damian becoming Robin, though fit for a condensed new 52 timeline that leaves some stuff out (like Damian's rocky intro with Bruce).

Batman #688 (Long Shadows part 1): Winick seems one of the early writers who does a Damian as he lines up with later characterization (views himself more as a professional assassin), so I think this one's good.

Batman: streets of Gotham #1-6: damian makes some minor appearances here.

Batgirl #5-7: Always take Damian's guest-starring stuff with a grain of salt, as often times writers just go with "how would an obnoxious 10 year old boy act here" without understanding he's a specific kind of obnoxious 10 year old boy... that said I do like some of his interactions with Steph, and I think it's incredibly important that we see Damian defends his competence based on his training, not on his blood.

Like he'll sometimes justify why he belongs based on his blood (which like... no one acts like they want him around), but he isn't going around saying "I'm better than you b/c I'm batman's son". he was trained intensely since birth (and that's why he should say he's better than you :P)

Batman #692-697: not a ton of Damian in this, and it is Daniel's writing, but he's a little better than he was in Battle for the Cowl. We see Dick training Damian some.

Batman: Streets of Gotham #7, #10-#11: love this plotline for him. Good show of competence and characterization.

Blackest night: batman: More focused on Tim and Dick, and Tomasi sucks at writing Babs, but at there is some Damian content that I remember enjoying.

Red Robin #11-15: as long as you read this one with your brain turned on, it's good for explaining some Tim and Damian stuff. Sadly some fans are like "woooo arrogant 10 year old gets beat up". Nicieza makes some missteps (frames Tim's thinking around Damian as coldly logical, when it is anything but and he is reacting from a place of emotion), but one can ignore those.

Batman #703: shows Damian's character pretty well in a default Batman and Robin adventure, and his relationship (or lackthereof) with Bruce and his dynamic with Dick and Alfred

Teen Titans #88-92 (including Red Robin #20 in a crossover plot): surprised by how well I liked this one. I think it portrays Damian pretty fairly, and we can see that he is trying hard, but hasn't been given a lot of support up until now (or even now, Dick kind of just drops him off with a bunch of older kids who all also have issues and are predisposed to disliking him XD). His dynamic with rose is fun and I think it is notable how quickly he does acquiesce to following Cassie's orders when she's like (at first) the only Teen Titan who is OK with him being there and assures him its not personal when she makes a comment he doesn't like.

Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Batman and Robin: Has some nice Dick and Damian banter, showcases how they've worked together well

Batgirl #17: more damian and steph interactions.

I will probably add more (either editing this post or in a reblog) as I keep reading.