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behindheremeraldeyes · 4 years ago

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DamiRae Week 2021 Monday, May 3rd - Pregnancy/ Parenthood & Family/ In-Laws

title: a cup of tea, please

summary: This is her first time being invited for dinner at the Wayne Mansion as his official girlfriend, and to say she’s nervous would be the understatement of the year. While she waits for them to arrive from an emergency call, perhaps, a nice cup of tea can calm her poor heart. Ao3 / ffnet

The path connecting the gates to the main entrance is probably the longest she ever remembers walking in a long time, and the clicking of her black heels against the concrete is starting to sound too loud in her ears. She’s miles away from Gotham, now, and the constant symphony of sirens that is always playing doesn’t reach her ears anymore. The garden is enveloped in peace and quietness, the moonshine bathing the statues and trees with its delicate light.

The Wayne Mansion is a spectacular construction, indeed. Her lavender eyes can’t stop looking around, carefully paying attention to all the details that make this place so impressive. The gothic style, the lit windows and the empowering towers make her feel incredibly small and she can’t help the shivers that run down her spine when she sees the massive water fountain in front of her.

Perhaps, she thinks, it’s a good thing that she came in alone. Raven doesn’t know what kind of face she is making right now, but she knows for sure that her boyfriend would make fun of her for reacting like that. Due to a sudden call from the GCPD requesting the dynamic duo, the empath ended up teleporting herself from Jump City on her own.Though she would always grow worried whenever they received those emergency calls, Damian did promise to meet her at the mansion in one piece so the three of them could have dinner.

Oh, right, the dinner. She feels her heart skipping a beat at the thought, and she has to suppress the urge to bite her lower lip in order not to ruin her lipstick. Of all the monsters and bad guys she has had to face in her life, Raven doesn’t recall ever being this nervous before. All of her primal emotions are screaming at her right now, and some of her inner demons— her father included— are telling her to run and hide in the depths of hell so she won’t have to face what’s to come.

She’s having dinner with the Waynes. However, it’s not just a simple dinner, no. It’s her first dinner as Damian’s official girlfriend— her first dinner meeting his father as his father. And even if she has already encountered Bruce Wayne many times before, she can’t help but think things would be much easier if she believed he was just a rich and eccentric man.

It would certainly be easier if she didn’t know he was, in fact, Batman.

Though she has never had any problems with Bruce since she’s joined the Titans, Raven must admit that she does feel intimidated by the fact that her father-in-law is the Gotham City’s very own Dark Knight. In all of their previous encounters, he has always been very cordial, never disrespecting her or any of her teammates. He is a good man, Damian says so himself. A good man with enough skills to go against every member of the Justice League without a single super-power.

He is a meticulous man, very precise and mysterious. He is her boss, and tonight, he is also her host.

It takes her a while to recompose herself from that wave of emotions, but eventually, Raven reaches the main entrance of the mansion. The mahogany doors are lustrous, and something tells her that the carved details were handmade decades ago. She takes one, last and deep breath, and finally, she reaches for the intercom with her index finger. A loud bell resonates inside the building, and before she has the time to rethink her choices, a muffled voice greets her.

“One moment, miss Roth.”

At those words, the empath is left slightly startled, as she starts playing with her fingers. Judging by the few things she was told her about the manor, Raven believes it’s safe to assume that voice on the speaker belongs to Alfred, the butler. According to her boyfriend’s stories, he has been in the family for at least three generations and he’s probably the one man who knows all of the secrets of the Waynes. Damian always speaks very fondly of him, saying he has always treated him like a boy instead of a potential assassin. Perhaps it wasn’t a very wise decision at the very beginning, but it says a lot about the man he is.

It doesn’t take long before the huge doors swing open in front of her, and as the lights start to creep out, it’s like a whole new world is revealed in front of her. She slowly walks in, her eyes marveled by all the elegance oozing from every corner of that entrance hall, which is probably larger than the house she grew up in.

There’s marble on the floor beneath her feet and a crystal chandelier hanging high above her head. Two spiral staircases unite the first and the second floors, and she notices as the walls are decorated with large, classical paintings of war and winter woods. There’s a brunet woman beautiful portrayed in one of those frames, and something tells her she must be Bruce’s mother. Though subtle, it’s undeniable that Damian shares a lot of his delicate features with her.

He has her cheeks, she thinks, a tender smile taking over her lips. It’s a pure emotion contrasting her current uneasiness, and right now, it’s enough to provide her some sort of comfort.

Even if Raven is completely absorbed by whole scenario around her, she’s quick to notice his presence in the room. Though her ears didn’t realize exactly when he arrived at the entrance hall, her senses are quick to detect the way his warm emotions mingle with hers. There’s a pinch of worry mixed with calmness, but mostly, she can feel a certain excitement building up inside him. It’s completely different from what she feels coming from the Wayne men she knows, for it’s lighter and consistent, and she can’t help but feel welcomed by that.

She still doesn’t even know his voice, but the empath is starting to understand why her boyfriend likes this man so much.

“Good evening, Miss Roth.” He starts, speaking politely and never taking his eyes away from hers. He’s dressed with a formal smoking, his black shoes perfectly shined and his gloves withe as the snow. “My name is Alfred, the butler. Welcome to the Wayne mansion. I apologize on behalf of Master Bruce and Master Damian, for they are still busy handling some matters in Gotham. They should be arriving shortly.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Alfred.” Her voice is steady and low, as she tries her best to cause a good first impression. “I'm sure they must be taking care of some important business. There’s no need for an apology. The city needs them, after all.”

“You’re a very kind, young lady. Please, allow me take your coat and walk you to the living room.”

She offers him a smile in response, carefully removing the black coat covering her petit body and revealing her outfit. She’s wearing a long, beige skirt that falls just above her calfs. Her onyx stilettos are giving her some extra inches, and a charcoal, sleeved shirt completes the set. For the material was a little transparent, it was possible to see her dark, lacy cropped beneath it, but according to Zatanna, it’s not indecent or anything. While preparing for tonight, Damian told her not to worry about futile details, but it only felt natural for her to want to look presentable for this evening’s event.

“Thank you, Alfred.” She handles him the coat, and she realizes how careful he is as he puts it inside a hidden closet.

“You're welcome. Now, if you could accompany me.”

"Of course.” She nods, following behind his footsteps. They walk down a large hallway with frames also decorating the walls, and even if she wanted to stay and look carefully at every single one of them, Raven knows better than to risk getting lost. Instead, she keeps paying attention to the composed man leading the way, observing in awe as the living room finally comes to view.

As expected, it’s another no by veryelegant room, filled with classical furniture and a gothic-themed fireplace that is responsible for keeping the area warm. Another large portrait hangs above it, and this time, that same woman is accompanied by a man very similar to Bruce himself. It’s a powerful painting for newcomers such as herself, but she knows it probably has a deeper meaning for those living inside those walls.

The carpets now are thick enough to muffle her heels, and while she’s distracted admiring the clocks spread around the living room, once more, his delicate voice bring her back to their reality. “Would you like a drink, Miss? Master Bruce has chosen a fine wine for the dinner, but feel free to ask me anything.”

“Uhmm.” She hums, pondering, her lips now pressed in a thin line. Though she doesn’t want to sound rude, Raven isn't really a fan of wine. She doesn’t hate it or anything like that, but it’s undeniable that she doesn’t have a high tolerance for alcohol. Once Bruce arrives, though, she will eventually have to share a glass with him, so, for now, she thinks it will be safer to avoid any liquor in order to prevent any embarrassing incident. “How about a cup of tea? I mean, only if it won’t cause you too much trouble, Alfred.”

“Non-sense. I will go boil the water immediately. Would you like any tea in particular?”

“Thank you very much, Alfred. And about the flavor… You can choose whatever you like, I guess. Damian once told me you know a lot about tea, so you probably know better than me when it comes to tea and the best choice for each occasion.”

His expression freezes for a fraction of second, a certain surprise now lacing his emotions. “Oh, did he?”

“Yes, he did.” She nods, offering him a soft smile. “He talks a lot about you, actually.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“The best, I assure you.”

“Who would have thought…” He nods, accepting her words and it’s as if she can sense a certain happiness in his voice. “Very well, I will go boil the water. If you need me, I will be in the kitchen. Please, make yourself at home.”

“I will, thank you.”

After nodding politely— because everythinghe does is polite— he turns around and walks away until he disappears in one of the many hallways she imagines this mansion to have. A soft smile takes over her lips as a warm sensation fills her chest. Alfred is really an amazing man. He’s thoughtful and his emotions are as transparent as Damian’s are filled with pride. Her first impressions on him are impeccable, and though he’s very different from the entire Wayne familiar circle, Raven is starting to understand why their dynamic works.

Maybe, with time, she will come to a full conclusion on that matter.

For now, though, she’s just happy to have finally met the man Damian always mentions whenever he’s talking about home. And now that she’s finally having the chance to add real images to his vague descriptions, well…

To say she’s just impressed would be the understatement of the year.

Though she has been in the mansion for a while now, Raven is still finding it hard to get used to her surroundings. Perhaps it’s the sepulchral silence or the fact that she’s all alone in Batman’s living room, but suddenly, she’s starting to feel a mild anxiety creeping around. She’s starting to feel self-conscious, as if she’s been watched— which is very likely to be happening, for sure— and even if Alfred has told her to make herself at home, the empath realizes it’s easier said than done.

She should’ve brought her book, damn it.

Her eyes are looking around in search of something to distract her from overreacting, but she soon realizes it’s useless. All of that subjective pressure is starting to get the best of her, and chances are that, if that continues like that, she will be teleporting back home before Damian even gets back.

Raven needs to calm down. She needs to stop overthinking and get herself together.

She needs Alfred, preferably with that tea. And even if she doesn't really know where the kitchen is, it’s not like she can’t use her powers to help her find the butler.

Without sparing a second thought, her eyes are already glowing and some loose locks of her purple hair are lifting up. With just a little concentration, she’s able to locate the only emotional human-being in the mansion and even if she doesn’t know which corridor will take her to him, Raven decides to improvise.

A dark energy envelops her body, and in a blink of an eye, the empath is teleported to a dim-lit room that is filled with a slightly bitter citric fragrance she’s very familiar with. It’s Earl Grey tea, she knows. The scent invades her nostrils and she can feel her body calmly responding to it. She takes a deep breath, then, and that’s when her eyes finally acknowledge the man responsible to that delicious aroma.

He’s standing in front of the stove, the boiling water working its magic on the leaves floating above it. As it appears, he’s following all the correct steps to brew the perfect Earl Grey and she doesn’t feel like she can thank him enough for that.

She stands a couple of feet away from him, near a wooden table that has a porcelain tea cup that certainly belongs to an english crockery set. There are four stools near her, and she also notices the many kitchen utensils displayed around the room. The newspaper is resting next to a pair of reading glasses, and she wonders if that’s what he was doing before she got here earlier this evening.

“Miss Roth, may I help you?” He speaks, not bothering to turn to face her, as he’s delicately blending the black tea with Bergamot oil. Though she has literally just appeared behind his back, she noticed how he remained calm and focused. Years of living with that family must do that to a person, she thinks.

“Oh, Uhm… It’s nothing, really.” She starts, stumbling upon her own words like a 5-year-old child who was caught stealing cookies from the jar. Apparently, Raven didn’t really think of a way to properly explain why she even bothered coming after him in the first place. “You see, Alfred, I was just… I was—“

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” He speaks, and suddenly, it’s like her worries dissipate in thin air. It’s funny how she’s the empath between them, and yet, he seems to know exactly what she’s feeling right now. He’s a good man, for sure.

“Yeah.” She sighs, a smile on her face. “I guess I just didn’t want to be alone in Batman’s mansion. Do you mind if I stay here with you until they get back?”

“Of course not, Miss Roth. Please, sit and make yourself comfortable. The tea is almost ready.”

“Thank you.” She says, choosing one of the stools for her to sit. Even if it’s not one of Bruce’s expensive armchairs, Raven is feeling a lot more comfortable here, with him. “Also, I see that you’ve chosen Earl Grey… It’s my favorite.”

“I know it is, Miss Roth.”

Her eyes widen for a moment, and slowly, she lets his words sink in. Few people in this world know such simple details about her life, and though she wouldn’t take Damian for one to chit-chat about his girlfriend’s favorite kind of tea, she’s not oblivious to what that means.

They do get along, she can tell. And even if she can only make guesses on that matter, she definitely wants to know more about that relationship.

“So, Alfred…” She starts again, not really sure how to ask him those questions without sounding too nosy. “How was Damian before he joined the Titans? He talks a lot about you, his father and Dick; but never really about himself.”

“Uhm… Master Damian is different from all the others.” He states, finally turning off the flame of the stove. He lets it sit for a couple of seconds, only then opting to pour it in the cup he had separated for her. The scent is stronger now, and she can’t wait for the temperature to drop just enough so she can take a sip of it. “He's the only one who wantedMaster Bruce to be his paternal figure, even if he might not be aware of that himself.”

“And did he get what he wanted?”

“You perhaps need to spend more time with Master Bruce, my dear.” He says, his voice laced with a certain sarcasm as his mustache slightly turns upwards.

“Well… I don’t know how it was before, but I think they’re starting to understand each other a little better now, right? At least that’s the impression I get every time he goes back to the tower after a night patrol.”

“I believe you’re right, indeed. Both of them are too similar in many aspects, and I think it’s safe to say they’re making progress as father and son. An old man such as myself can only hope for them to find a balance."

“Damian Wayne finding balance in life… That's something I would love to see.” She giggles, earning a side smile from him.

“He's changed a lot since the first time we met him. Master Damian is certainly no longer that irreverent child who’s constantly angry and lost.”

“Maybe that monastery did good for him.”

“Well, not only the monastery, Miss Roth.”

A comforting warmth creeps under her skin and she can't help but feel a sense of wholesomeness taking over her emotions. Though she doubts she’s had all of that effect on him, it’s nice to know she was able to make a difference, no matter how small it might have been.

Her boyfriend is a very complex man, filled with doubts and conflicts that might never come to an end. He struggles to become a new man without abandoning his past, and perhaps, that’s the one thing she loves the most about him. He’s unique, original in his own shape and colors. He’s not trying to please anyone, and yet, even if he doesn’t believe her words whenever she points it out, he’s trying to be a hero.

He will be a fine leader someday, and she can’t wait to be there by his side when his day arrives.

“Thank you, Alfred… For taking care of him when he was a little boy.”

“It was only my job as the family’s butler. I should be the one thanking you, Miss Roth. For taking care of him now that he’s no longer one.”

His old, wrinkled eyes are now looking at her, and there’s an emotion there that Raven can’t really name. It’s pure and laced with honesty, and for a moment, she thinks this is how grandparents are supposed to look at their grandchildren.

It feels special to be looked at like that. It feels warm and safe in a whole different level, and she feels encouraged enough to talk to him about anything in the world. Her tastes, her doubts, fears, and mostly, the things she loves.

At last, she’s beginning to understand the man behind the dynamic duo. At last, she beginning to understand why Damian loves him so much.

There’s an inch of expectation in his face as she finally takes a sip of the tea, and she hopes he can see the satisfied look on her face after that. It’s perfect, for sure. Perhaps the best Earl Grey she’s ever had in her life. As expected from a man such as Alfred Pennyworth.

“It's delicious, Alfred.” She nods, closing her eyes to savor the moment. “Would you like to drink with me?”

“Don't mind me, Miss. It’s still too early for my tea.”

“Oh, I see… Maybe next time, then?”

“Of course. Next time will be perfect.”

Neither of them really knew for how long they’ve been talking, but eventually, their ears capture the sound of rushed footsteps coming from down the hallway. Unalarmed eyes turn their attention to the source of the new sound that has disturbed their chit-chat, and in a matter of seconds, a raven haired boy dressed in his black turtle-neck shirt appears.

“Alfred, we’re home! He starts, sounding slightly breathless. “Have you seen Rav—“ Though he did seem bit exasperated, at first, once his emerald eyes meet her amethyst one, it’s as if time stops and he allows himself to breath. “Oh, there you are.”

“Hi.” She greets him, a warm smile now forming on her lips. “Took you long enough, Boy Wonder.”

“You see, everything was going just fine until those lunatics decided it would be fun to rob the Gotham museum. Penguin was behind this one this time.”

“And did you get him?” She asks, taking another sip of her tea.

“Not really… He escaped through the sewers, that bastard. Next time he won’t stand a chance, though!”

“You’ll get him next time, I’m sure.”

“Yeah…” He nods, running his fingers through his dark locks. “Sorry to keep you waiting for so long."

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Alfred here has kept me company while you were busy.” She states, looking at the butler so they could exchange an honest glance. “Though I believe he’s too polite to tell me to leave so I can stop distracting him from the important things he has to do."

“Nonsense, Miss Roth.” Alfred states, no hesitation in his voice. “Our talk has proven itself quite amusing.”

“I'm glad to know that. I really enjoyed our talk, too.” She states, taking the last sip of her tea before finally standing up. She takes a few steps to get closer to Damian, who almost instinctively, places his hand right on her lower back. Their eyes meet once more, and there’s a small smile playing on his lips.

“Good to see you two getting along. What were you two talking about?”

“You, of course.”

“Me?” He lifts an eyebrow, and she watches amusedly as confusion takes over his face. “Can you be a little more specific?”

“Sure. We were talking about this silly game you play with all the girls you bring home for dinner.” She teases, a sparkle lit inside her amethyst eyes. "Honestly, keeping us waiting all alone so close to Batman’s secrets isn’t a really good idea.”

“TT.” He scoffs, a pout decorating his face. “You're not funny.”

“I would have to disagree, Master Damian. She’s quite the spirituous one.”

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“You're welcome, Miss Roth.”

“I'm clearly outnumbered here.”

A giggle escapes her lips as she smiles at her new partner in crime. Alfred nods back at her, and once her attention returns tenderly towards her boyfriend, the butler clears his throat in order to get their attention. “Master Damian, why don’t you take Miss Roth to the living room to meet your father? I’ll be finishing the preparations for the dinner.”

“Great idea, Alfred.” Damian agrees, offering her his arm to hold as a true gentlemen would. “Shall we?”

“Of course.” She nods, accepting his offer and bringing her body even closer to his. Her emotions feel lighter, and her chest is warmer now that she is getting to know more about him and his life away from the Titans. Her conversation with Alfred was very pleasant and she really hopes she can get another chance like this in a nearby future. “Thank you for keeping me company, Alfred. It was a real pleasure meeting you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Roth.” He bows cordially, and she has no reason to doubt his words.

Both Alfred and Raven reach a mutual agreement, and carefully, she feels Damian carefully pulling her towards the corridor from where he came. The two lovers are about to walk away with their arms laced, but suddenly, the butler’s voice stops them in their tracks.

“Master Damian, if I may…”

“What is it, Alfred?” Damian asks, curiosity now taking over both of them.

“You've found yourself a very nice girl and my old heart can’t handle another emotionally inept Wayne. Don’t let her slip away.”

Her eyes widen at his statement and she can even feel a blush threatening to tinge her cheeks. A mix of feelings is running through her veins right now, and if anything, she feels her heart skipping a beat while waiting for Damian’s answer to this.

Is he going to laugh it off?

Is he going to opt for one of the rude answers he’s always giving Dick?

Is he going to—

Her train of thoughts is suddenly interrupted by the feeling of his other hand on top of her arm. His fingers caress her exposed skin, and for a moment, she hopes she doesn’t look half as dumbfounded as she is inside. His emerald eyes are now looking deep into hers and all of the words disappear from her mind.

“I won't, Alfred.” He answers, his voice an octave lower than before. “I certainly won’t.”

A soft smile slowly makes its way to her lips, and right now, she realizes how happy she is to be here. Not only she got to know the famous Alfred, but Raven also got the chance to know more about the man she holds so dear in her heart.

At last, they make their way to the dinning room where Bruce is probably waiting for them. They exchange smiles and a few words in order to catch up on the last couple of hours. There’s a chuckle, a sigh and even a muffled sound that shall be kept in secret by the walls of the mansion. Without a hurry in the world, their feet keep moving forward, their arms never once untangling.

fin.

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a/n: Hapy Damirae week! This is my first time participating and I’m so excited!! Thanks to this ship, I’ve met so many wonderful people and all I want right now is for our beloved ship to be showered with all the love and affection it deserves! Thank you all who have made me feel so welcomed and let’s have a blast during this week! Hope you enjoy this one, and please, tell me what you think!

#damirae #damirae week 2021 #damirae week may 3 #damian x raven #demonbirds #mydamiraefics

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years ago

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Overprotection

Bio!Dad Bruce

Day 5: Overprotection

@biodad-bruce-month

Ao3 ~~~ First ~~~ Previous ~~~ Next

~~~~~~~~~~

About a week before her term began again,

Bruce pulled Mari into his office. After her telling them about the situation in Paris and him and Tim looking into it he was worried.

Seriously he found out the two heroes had contacted the Justice League but Lantern, Hal, had laughed at them stating it was a joke. After that they sent another video stating that all heroes affiliated with the Justice League, its members, their sidekicks, and even anyone that the above has worked with were banned from setting foot in Paris. Or else they would be treated as criminals. After that information was scarce. So he was rightfully worried about sending his daughter to a country he could do nothing in as a hero.

"Mari, your break is ending and I wanted to ask, do you want to go back to Paris to finish the term?" he waited for her answer watching her reaction.

---

Do I want to go back to Paris? Yes, no, maybe. She was confused and rightfully so. "Who wants to go back to a place to be held emotionally captive."

"So is that a no?" Bruce asked, making her realize she said that out loud.

"Well I... I want to stay in Paris it's my home, but this is my home too. I, I, I can't leave my... friends" she hoped she was convincing but even she knew she wasn't. Hell she stumbled on the word friends, yes she will miss her best friends but Chloe, Kagami, and Luka always call. They've been calling her once a day minimum, excluding patrols and fights, luckily no one has dropped in on their conversations or else... well she didn't know what her family would do with that information .

"Mari" Bruce was on her level, when did he get there, "Is something other than the akuma attacks bothering you?" This was the first time since arriving at the manor that she heard him speak that softly.

"N..." she bit her lip and closed her eyes making firm her resolve. "Yes there is something else"

"I'm here to listen. Even if you want to go back you still have your family behind you."

"Well there is a girl in my class who turned everyone and I mean everyone but one person in the class against me" she looked at him and she saw the same pensive expression when she was figuring out a lucky charm. "she lies with every breath and..." she started to cry.

---

As soon as she started to cry he hugged her. everyone who knows him knows he is not the person to go to with feelings, that would be

Dick, but here he is.

"You don't have to go back you can go to Gotham Academy with Damian. You never have to see them again." he whispered, but she shook her head against him.

"I have to go back" she whispered barely audibly. A frown began to appear on his features. All he wanted was to keep her safe but she refused everytime.

"Then Damian is going with you" he began, but he really should have seen her facial reaction. She had stiffened in his embrace, he thought it was because she would now have an ally so he had continued his rambling. "Damian has the most reign on his emotional state. Jason's not the most stable emotionally so that's out. Tim is helping run WE, but maybe I could get him into the Paris branch so you both have someone else to lean on. Dick is busy with his daughter not to mention the station so no. Cass..."

"NO!!!" Mari yelled pushing out of his arms, and

he was shocked and hurt and it must have shown. "Sorry, but no" her tone was firm, much

firmer than he had ever heard before.

"Why?"

She huffed before seeming to come to a conclusion "The Bats aren't allowed in Paris" she spoke quietly and then everything went silent and his brain functioning stopped.

When he was finally able to speak again, but still not think straight asked "Can you repeat that I don't think I heard you correctly."

She seemed to speak slowly and delibertly" The Bats are not allowed in Paris."

the had heard correctly but "How did you find out?" now he was concerned if she figured it out could others, they had always been careful about their identities. Steering clear of the topic with her.

"It was a few things, one the manor is much too quiet at night, two the thin excuses and sudden disappearances were all too familiar, and three Tikki."

Too quiet at night fine, can't do anything about that. Thin excuses and sudden disappearances, okay we can work on that.

"What is a Tikki?" He looked at her as if to elaborate but she remained silent as it waiting for him, oh, oh, "familiar, you're Ladybug" he looked at her and she gave him a knowing smirk. If he were Jason he would have cursed. Well that explains things. "Mini let us help you please" he watched her she passed through so many emotions fear, hesitance, regret, and ended on worry.

"I don't want to need to fight you Dad, I don't want to need to fight any of you." she was on the verge of tears.

"let us protect you, Mini, let us help."

"But"

"You're a Bat whether you like it or not and Bats stick together"

"How are we going to put an end to Hawkmoth"

"Do those butterflies show up on camera"

"Not until they are about to corrupt someone"

"That's out, how about..." the two stratigiod until Alfred said lunch was soon ready. "You know you never told me what a Tikki was and that was your third reason." she giggled.

"Come out Tikki. Dad this is Tikki the Kwamii of creation. She is the reason I can transform into Ladybug."

"Hello there Tikki. So how is it you were able to figure out our family's secret" he gave the little creature a small smile.

Tikki giggled and said in a chirpy voice "It's easy when you can phase through solid objects and end up in a cave with extremely recognizeable suits in it."

"Wait if you were in the cave why didn't the cameras catch anything?"

At this Mari held up her phone with the camera pointed it at Tikki and nothing was on the screen.

"How?"

"Kwamii and technology don't exactly mix. That's why you guys could look at a photo of me next to Ladybug and never realize we are the same person. That is until now since you have been told."

"Let's head over for lunch before chaos breaks loose and the boys come looking for us"

"Okay, wait! How are we going to tell everyone?"

"I might have an idea" Tikki's eyes shone with mischief.

---

Plagg may be the Kwamii of chaos but never, and I mean never get on the bad side of creation.

The plan was simple in the middle of the meal Tikki would phase out of Mari's pocket, under the table and then through it. Specifically next to Damian. Tikki was determined to get some sort of reaction from him.

She succeeded.

He was going to get his cap when she popped out. He jumped throwing his water all over him and falling backwards still on his chair.

No matter what happened Mari and Bruce were not supposed to react. Granted Mari recorded the whole thing. One thing she learned about the boys, have blackmail material it may end up saving you.

Damian, Dick, and Jason freaked out there was a lot, but I mean a lot of yelling.

Tikki had flown over and sat at the table between Marinette and Bruce where a plate of cookies were waiting for her.

Dick was the first to snap out of the trance of screaming, "Why is there a bug-mouse eating cookies on the table?" he still yelled and that was when Mari and Bruce looked up at them.

Damian was staring daggers at her reaching under the table, probably to get the katana hidden underneath, but he won't find it. Ah he figured out it was missing and is now, ohh he is pouting he really is a little kitten.

Tim, Dick, and Jason were staring yes, but they were staring at Mari and Bruce for an

explination.

"He is definately your brother little bug" she giggled still munching on a cookie.

"Really why is that Tikki?" Bruce had gone back to eating sparing a glance at Tikki.

"I called her a bug-mouse when I first met her too." Mari stated also going back to her meal.

Now all four boys were pouting. This continued until the meal was almost finished.

"sigh, I guess were going to have to tell them directly, non" Mari said over dramatically getting the boy's attention.

"That seems like the case" Bruce answered with a frown trying to cover the amusement in his voice. "In a family of the world's best detectives and they still can't figure it out with everything in front of them." Mari was begining to laugh.

"Perhaps it should have been in another location" Bruce responded.

"I still stand that transporting them to Paris would have been too much" Tikki replied to the conversation.

"The cave would have been overkill, but I still think their reactions would have been

just as funny" Mari countered. This got everyone's attention.

"Cave,what cave there's no cave" Jason surprisingly tried to do damage control.

"What do you mean by transporting to Paris"

Tim had asked looking between the three suspiciously. Then finally both Damian and Dick shared a look then looked at Mari and her and shouted "Ladybug!"

"Took you guys long enough" Mari smiled, Bruce was on the verge of laughter.

---

They then explained further the situation in Paris and in the end the boys seemed ready to fight the class as well as Hawkmoth for their little sister.

Damian and Tim would be joining her in Paris. Tim at WE Paris and Damian at her school and hopefully her class as well but there is still a week before she has to see those harpies she calls classmates.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list:

@mochinek0 @justafanwarrior @abrx2002 @ranger-gothamite @fantasiame @moonystars14 @mochegato @bigbeautifulandfullofsugar @maribat-is-lifeblood @iglowinggemma28 @miraculous-ninja @talutah0 @vixen-uchiha @danielslilangel @witchsblackfox @pawsitivelymiraculous @lizziejay @marinettepotterandplagg @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @dast218 @sassakitty @miyla-lokidottir @lilkymilky @tazanna-blythe @tired-butterfly @lozzybowe @smolplantmum @queencommonsense @loopingtangent @chez-pezeater @paintedhope7 @technicallyburninggarden @meme991001 @wannajointhecrabcult @melicmusicmagic @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze

#bio! dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #bio!dad bruce wayne #b ! dbwm2020 #bruce wayne #maribat #marinette dupen chang #miraculus ladybug #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc

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jinxedpanda4life · 4 years ago

Text

DamiRae Hospital AU?

No I am not writing one, if I could write well I would though! So here are some HCs for a hospital AU. If someone decides to write this then I’ll be your first reader. Also I am sort of basing things off of Grey’s Anatomy just a bit and my limited knowledge of the medical field.

- Starts of as 1st year residents, specialties may vary

- The “Titans” are residents and 1st years that show great promise, this doesn’t really play a role its just what people call them behind their backs

- Dr. Kori Anders is a OBGYN (women parts and birth) resident, a year or two away from finishing

- Dr. Richard “Dick” Grayson is is a surgery resident, trained by the hospital owner Bruce Wayne (who is a world renowned surgeon, has awards, etc), specifically general surgery

- Dr. Garfield Logan is pediatrician (kid doctor) res, bonds well with kids, but is considering going back to school to become a vet instead

- Dr. Jaime Reyes is an oncology (cancer doctor), having had cancer as a teen and is now forever trying to rid the world of it, works mostly with kids and teens

- Dr. Jonathan Kent is a physical therapist that works with pain management. Up beat guy and is always trying to brighten his patient’s lives.

- Dr. Damian Wayne is a surgical intern, blood thirsty little thing, hoping to become a neurosurgeon (brain, spine) (or cardiothoracic (heart, lungs) both are competitive)

- Dr. Raven Roth is an anesthesiologist (the drug person that knocks you out) and is starting her surgical internship (she wanted to do more than just help people get high essentially or whatever) has no current preference for any specific surgical field

- Add in characters:

-- Dr. Jason Todd, trauma surgeon (fits too well)

-- Dr. Timothy Drake diagnostician (medical detective basically)

-- Dr. Donna Troy gynecologist

-- Terra Markov is a nurse (i don’t like Terra but nurses are the actual best)

- Story stuff:

- Damian and Raven meet as they are put under the guidance of the same resident

-Damian has an automatic dislike for Raven because she knows everyone already and is equally, if not much more, knowledgable about surgery, the OR, the ER, protocol, etc He also thinks she is cold because she rarely shows emotion (pot kettle Damian)

- Raven can always be found in the medical archives researching old cases and studying new ones, Damian stumbles upon her when looking for an old cardiomegaly case (enlarged heart).

- Raven gets along with all of the past ‘Robins’ making her a go to intern

- Garfield can be seen whenever he is not needed trying to flirt with Nurse Markov and often goes to Raven to sulk

- Damian and Raven are always early to pre-rounds and are typically the first ones there (usually early in the morning, getting there before 500)

- Jon bumps into Damian more often than not and they start becoming friends (Damian is reluctant at first and is still you know Damian about everything), Damian even recommends patients to him

- Though Damian doesn’t want to really ‘hang out’ with anyone he reluctantly hangs out with the Titans, because of Jon and Dick

- When in a large group when at a bar, club or whatever Damian tends to stay close to Raven because 1) they actually have things to talk about 2) she isn’t loud

- Raven & Damian are both assigned to a case that is frankly befuddling and have to start spending long nights and early mornings together to figure it out

- Over that period of time they learn things about each other:

-- Raven learns:

Damian has a dog (Titus) and cat (Alfred)

He is single (Kori told her) and lives in an apartment close to the hospital

He has lived in various countries

He is trained in multiple martial arts

He prefers his tea with brown sugar and a slice of lemon

His eyes are a true emerald color with a ring of gold and flecks scattered within

He may hide it well but when Raven compliments him he becomes flustered

He speaks to himself in Arabic when he curses, trying to remember something, doesn’t want anyone to know what he is saying

He isn’t always an asshole

When he actually smiles a true and genuine smile, she has heart palpitations

-- Damian learns:

Raven has two tattoos (neither are a bird), a gang tat (she is saving up to get it removed), and a mantra in Azarathian; Azarath Metrion Zinthos

She immigrated from Azarath when she was around 8

Her notes are in Azarathian

She actually feels a lot of emotion and knows how to control them

If she is not reading about a current or past case she is reading any book or file she can get her hands on, he has caught her reading in multiple different languages; Azarathian, English, French, Russian, Arabic, Dutch, Mandarin, (could be more or less)

She lives alone and has a cat, Nevermore, and thanks to Dick he already knew she was single

She likes all tea, no matter how prepared, but prefers the sweetener to be honey

Her hair is black but shines purple, especially under the ER lights

Her eyes are a purple that at first glance look blue, like Elizabeth Taylor, he realizes though her eyes are galaxies on their own

When she smiles the world actually stops moving, her eyes shine like stars and he never wants the world to start moving again

She always wears a necklace with a gold and ruby ring at all times (it was her mother’s wedding ring)

- When Damian starts having le feelings for Raven he considers actually seeking medical advice as this has never happened to him before

- Raven tries her best to contain her feelings when at work, going so far as one day a month staying home just to scream, cry and feel her feelings

- It does not help that new feelings towards Damian start popping up, especially since he starts bringing her tea and hanging out with her at work

- During the middle of their 2nd year of residency someone holds Raven hostage in the hospital to fix someone that person loves (this person had connections to Trigon and knew who Raven was)

- That was not a fun time for either Damian or Raven; Damian was outside the hospital pacing trying to figure something out with the other Titans trying to calm themselves and him down

- Shots are fired and when all is said and done, Raven gets shot in the abdomen and the hand (she was in ICU for a hot sec)

- Damian seemed to be there every time Raven woke up, he was always checking on her during rounds even though he wasn’t on her case

- Raven did have to have surgery on her hand and in her abdomen (idk where i’m not getting that specific), she hated being, in her words, coddled

- Even though Raven was right handed (the one that got shot) she learned how to do everything, writing, eating, going to the bathroom, etc. (many of the other residents are impressed since she keeps working on it after her other hand heals)

- Raven’s room also becomes a space for other residents to destress and just vent about their day. She listens and gives advice, all without looking up from whatever she was doing.

- During this time Raven becomes hooked on Pretty Pretty Pegasus

- Raven’s room is also full of cards, flowers, etc all from fellow staff and some from patients. When she leaves (she spends a couple weeks in thanks to multiple surgeries, recovery, and other minor injuries) all of the gifts litter her apartment, the cards end up in a box by her desk, she presses the flowers, and stuffed animals are donated to children’s shelter (she keeps some that she has grown attached to)

- During this time Damian is more of an ass than usual (people notice and tease him)

- Damian at some points keeps working without breaks/sleep for hours on end. Dick pulls him aside after noticing, scolds and forces him to sleep in one of the on call rooms. (He really wanted him to go home, but Damian wasn’t leaving)

- Once Raven was discharged Damian and Garfield help her back home (clothes + gifts + Raven w/a healing hand/other injuries = need help) the other Titans would have helped but were needed at the hospital

- Garfield leaves after dropping off Raven and Damian (and her stuff) as he is called in on a Peds case (could be fake, may not be) and Raven & Damian spend the rest of the time basically watching terrible movies. (with Nevermore sitting on both of them)

- That is the night Damian realizes that not only does he like Raven, but he like likes her. He starts devising plans on how to get her to date him.

- All his plans basically are thrown out the window because of one reason or another (he kept overthinking it)(poor guy)

- It is not until their 3rd year of residency that Raven realizes her feelings towards Damian (Have I made it clear she likes him? I can’t remember...)

- She realizes her feelings when she has to crash at his place for a night (because he lives ridiculously close to the hospital, like how expensive is that??) and he tries to make sure that she is as comfortable as possible

- She never realized how much he cared for her? Like she was always helping him out and there for him but she never realized he reciprocated that care? *Shocker*

- Raven becomes kind of a mess because of all her emotions that she is trying to bottle up. (all the corks are disintegrating and the jar is overflowing)

- Raven is during her Ortho rotation (bone surgeon people, they are cool, ik from experience) that she actually gets a good release for her emotions (setting peoples bones and drilling and hammering in pins is actually therapeutic)

- Raven thinks that may be the specialty she chooses

- Damian saw her as a mess and could not fathom why she was said mess, he figured it was about a romantic interest after someone made an offhand comment about her love life and she became a blubbering mess (very un-Raven like)

- After all of well *motions with hands* that Raven asks why Damian doesn’t have a s/o or someone

- He says there is only person that he has been meaning to ask out (looks pointedly at Raven)

- All Raven says is “Go for it.”

And that is where my HCs end. Now if anyone who happens upon this post decides to write a Medical AU with any of these please tag me, tell me, message me.

You do not have to give me credit, I just want to read it.

This took me a couple of days to write up, so if it is disjointed I apologize.

If anything needs to be corrected for any reason let me know!

I hope this fuels some imaginations!

-I may post more HC AU things if they come to mind, we will have to see.

#damirae #damian x raven #demonbirds #teen titans #raven #damian wayne #rachel roth #headcanon #medical au #au

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anjuschiffer · 4 years ago

Text

Amira Wayne - Chapter 2

Day 2 of Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020! Woo! And, follow @biodad-bruce-month for more content!

Note: The AO3 Link to this fic will be on the first chapter only.

Chapter 2: Father-Daughter Bonding

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123

MASTERLIST | Prev

Bruce looked at Amira, stumped by her wailing.

At first he thought it was because she already missed Talia, but it’s been a solid three hours since then and she never cried between that time until now. It wasn’t until he had placed her on his bed that she started to become fussy, her small hands waving all over the place.

Perhaps she adored being held?

“Master Bruce - good heavens! What is that- is that a child you have there Master Bruce?” Alfred asked as he stepped into Bruce’s bedroom with a tray of tea, appalled by the odor in the room.

“Meet Amira...my daughter.” Bruce introduced, watching as Alfred set down the tray, slowly approaching the wailing girl.

“Pardon me Master Bruce, but when was the last time you changed the young miss?”

“Changed?” Bruce asked, glancing at Alfred and then at Amira. “As in, clothes?”

“I meant her diaper.” Alfred clarified, picking up Amira and bouncing her in his arms, Bruce not liking how easily Amira stopped crying. “I will bathe the young miss while you start heading to the nearest baby store. Here’s a list of things I need you to buy.”

Alfred quickly took out his notepad and scribbled away, tearing off two sheets worth of writing and handing it to Bruce. “Hurry now. We don’t have all evening.”

And so Bruce was pushed out of his room, sent on a mission to buy... baby things…

“Do you need help si- Mister Wayne! Oh! I-um...how can I help you?” The store worker asked him, averting her gaze.

What was the richest person in Gotham doing in a department store like the one she worked in?!

Bruce looked at her name tag. Elizabeth. He’ll make sure to pay her for his troubles.

“Hi, I’m looking for all of these items, but I’ve searched throughout this store and can’t seem to find them.” Bruce said, handing Elizabeth the list Alfred had given him. He watched as the young girl’s eyes widened before looking at Bruce and back at the list.

“You can find all of these on our third floor, in the baby department.” Elizabeth provided, stifling a laugh when Bruce looked at her confused.

There was a third floor? “Would you like it for someone to-”

“Please.” Bruce practically begged, Elizabeth nodding. Bruce watched as she ran to a fellow coworker, gestured at him before running back to him. Bruce noticed the way the other coworker paled when she saw him.

“Well Mister Wayne, my name is Elizabeth and I’ll be glad to be of service.”

“Thank you so much.”

Bruce spent the next three hours being led by Elizabeth around the baby section, only then noticing that he really wasn’t up to the task.

When Elizabeth talked about Amira’s age, Bruce didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how old she was, what she was able to do or even eat. Vaccines? Apparently, babies needed that too.

“I also suggest talking to your daughter frequently.” Elizabeth states, picking up another adorable outfit for Amira. You can never go wrong with dresses. “Talking to her would help enhance her speech, especially if she’s not babbling. Babbling should be common for her if she’s around six months old.”

“How do you know so much?” Bruce decided to ask, looking at the cart that was almost filled to the brim with supplies and clothes. There were bottles, sippy cups, plastic bowls, bibs, a few interactive toys, a white crib and a stroller. Oh...and diapers...lots of them.

“Well, I want to become a pediatrician, so I often find myself reading about child development and such during my time off.” Elizabeth told him with a soft smile. “And then there’s the fact that I practically raised my two younger siblings since they were newborns. I often helped my mother take care of them, absorbing all the new knowledge like a sponge.

While it sounds like she dumped a bit of the responsibility on me, I know my mother meant well. A slice of what it meant to be a mother, to be responsible for another life.”

Bruce hummed at her answer, picking up a white pajama on the rack, wondering if Amira would even like it. Does she even know what a bee was? Did she even know what was going on? Did he even know what was going on? What his life was for him now?

“I wonder if I’m up to the task.” Bruce muttered to himself, but Elizabeth heard it loud and clear.

“No one is born knowing what they’re expected to do and be ready for.” Elizabeth said, picking up another outfit. “Sometimes, we just have to go with the flow and see where we land.”

Bruce repeated those words mentally, picking up another pajama, a yellow this time, it had a sheep on it.

Go with the flow, huh?

After spending hours in the baby area, Bruce was ready to go home, mentally relaying the notes Elizabeth had given him.

He started laying out the plans he had in mind for Amira’s nursery, deciding on using the room next to his. While the only way to enter it was through the main door, he could always make another door that connected the nursery and his room for easier access.

After unloading everything from the car to inside the manor, Bruce decided to bring some fresh clothing to the last place he saw Alfred and Amira, panic setting into him when he heard wailing coming from the room.

Bruce pushed the door open, seeing Alfred with Amira in his arms, the girl reaching for something that wasn’t there.”

“Welcome back Master Bruce.” Alfred wearily said, the two noticing that Amira quickly looked over to Bruce, her small hands no longer searching for him. Her wails became hiccups as she continued to stare at Bruce. “Look, Amira. It’s your father. I told you he would be back.”

As soon as Alfred said those words, Amira began to cry again, Bruce quickly taking her from Alfred and began to walk her around the room. He then remembered that Elizabeth had told him.

He should talk to her.

“Amira. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Bruce listened as her wails grew softer. “I went to buy some things, but now I’m back.”

Bruce listened as Amira softly stopped crying, now tiny hiccups escaping her. “There, there.”

“I’ve seen you’re starting to step up to the task, Master Bruce.”

“Someone has to look after her. Who better than us, her family?” Bruce asked, then realizing that Amira had yet to be clothed.

Bruce wandered to the bags, quickly taking out the mountain of clothing.

He quickly sets Amira down on the bed so that he can organize the clothing. In doing so, he missed how Amira sat up. He only noticed it when she had crawled to sit in front of him.

She can sit. And crawl.

“If she can sit by herself and is starting to crawl, she may already be six months old.”

Bruce watched as Amira took a liking to the two clothing articles in front of her. Or rather, the two pajamas. More specially the white and yellow pajamas that Bruce had picked out - the sheep and the bee respectfully.

He watched in wonder as Amira stared at them, looking between the two for a while before patting the yellow onesie with the sheep on it.

“Sheep it is then.” Bruce said, unbuttoning the pajama. How did he forget the onesie that goes underneath?

He quickly clothed Amira, clasping the last button to find Amira looking at him with her wide green eyes.

“You are a natural.” Alfred decided to speak up, watching as Bruce picked up Amira with confidence.

“Or perhaps I’m willing to learn.” Bruce stated, watching as Amira yawned, watching her start to doze off. “One day at a time.”

The two men luckily found out that Amira was seven months old, thanks to the birth certificate and other documents Talia had left in the baby carrier. It made certain legal procedures go more smoothly, while for others, it took some time.

As days went by, Bruce and Alfred started to notice that Amira was smarter than what she let on.

She knew to not place anything in her mouth that wasn’t food, something that both Bruce and Alfred appreciated. Bruce quickly found out that she liked to observe items, Amira often gazing at a toy for minutes, listening to a rattle make the faintest sound as she passed it from one chubby hand to the other.

She would recognize the places she was in, lay down when she was in the crib and remain seated while she was on the couch or in a chair. Alfred found out that she adored watching him cook, her eyes following every movement he made as he prepared dinner as she sat in her highchair.

Alfred also found out that she was very fond of strawberries and apples, Alfred melting when Amira would grace him with the largest smile possible when she would realize that Alfred had made her favorite purees.

She would smile and frown but would never make a sound that wasn’t a cry. Even when Bruce noticed that she wanted to let out a cry, she never whimpered or sniffled. It was as if she was suppressing those emotions. Luckily, after paying Dr.Leslie Thompkins a visit, Bruce learned that it was just a habit she must have learned while she was with Talia. Thompkins assured Bruce that by talking with Amira more, it would help her unlearn that habit. Surely enough, the doc was right.

Amira soon grunted, babbled and rambled more frequently and at random points in the day. Babbling not only helped her get Bruce’s attention, but also made him smile more. Amira soon learned that ‘Dada’ made him smile even more, especially when he would not be home for longer periods of time. As much as she adored Alfred, no one beats Dada.

Now having a system of communication, Bruce would often coax Amira to come towards him, Amira standing just three steps away from him.

He would watch as she would proudly stand by herself before taking a single wobbly step towards him. Another two steps followed slowly after, Amira bursting into a giggling fit when she reached Bruce.

Those tiny steps soon turned into hops, strides and jumps, Bruce not believing how quickly time had passed.

He watched her grow before his eyes, feeling a smile grow on his face as he kept listening to Amira read to him.

“-ate through one nice green leaf, and after that he felt much better.” Amira said, turning the page. “Now he wasn’t hungry anymore and- is there something wrong Dad?” Amira asked, Bruce wondering what she meant. “You’re crying.”

“Am I know?” Bruce asked, raising his hand to his eyes, wiping away what was a tear. Seems like he was. “It’s nothing. Probably some dust got into my eye.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be patrolling tonight?” Amira asked, showing Bruce himself in the form of a Batman plushie.

It’s been two years since Bruce became Batman, all thanks to a single incident that almost cost him his life. He almost left Amira in the same situation as him when he was ten...

He needed to make Gotham a safer place for his daughter, what better way than striking fear into criminals?

Some people of the general public are glad to have him, despite it being a mere eight percent. Everyone else fears him, except Gotham’s villains...and his own daughter. It didn’t take long for her to find out he was Batman. Then again, it’s not like Bruce was trying to keep it a secret from her.

As for the Batman plushie, it was a gift from Alfred to Amira, something about having Bruce always with her.

Bruce smiled at the plushie, getting up from the bed and tucking Amira in.

“As much as Gotham needs Batman, you also need me to tuck you into bed.”

“Dad, I’m seven. I can do it myself.”

“Does that mean you don’t want me to tuck you in anymore?” He watched as Amira pursed her lips before sinking into the comforter some more.

“I still like being tucked into bed.” Amira muttered, gaining a chuckle from Bruce. “Are we still going to the circus tomorrow?” Amira asked, springing up, watching her father’s face for some type of confirmation.

“Amira,” Bruce said with a frown, tucking one of her hair strands behind her ear. “Remember what we talked about?”

Amira hung her head, looking at Batman in her hands. It was times like this that Amira wished they never lived in Gotham, that her father wasn’t a billionaire...

“If it’s a place where the public knows you or a place that I can easily be spotted, I can’t go.” Amira recited, letting a frown replace her smile. She threw herself back onto her bed, throwing her comforter over her head.

Bruce let out a heavy huff.

“Goodnight.” He whispered, deciding to let her be. As soon as he stepped out of her room, Bruce faced Alfred.

“Is Miss Amira asleep already?” Alfred asked, motioning to the tray with a cup of milk. “She usually drinks a glass before going to sleep.”

“She’s awake, but I wonder if she would even talk.” When he saw Alfred lift a brow, Bruce decided to continue. “I told her she couldn’t join me to go watch the Haly’s Circus tomorrow. The press already knows I’m going, I can’t let them know about Amira just yet.”

“With all due respect Master Bruce,” Alfred began, opening the door to walk in. “The longer you keep hiding her from the public, the harder it will be to keep it that way. You can’t keep sheltering her away from a world she deserves to see. To be in.”

Bruce was left with those words in his mind, wondering what he should do.

Ever since he was assaulted, he vowed to protect Amira, even if it meant that she could not step foot outside the manor.

When she turned three, Bruce made sure to homeschool her, teaching her the basics of English, which included reading and writing. One she was five, he taught her the basics in math and science. As a side subject, Bruce was starting to teach her French, hoping to teach her mandarin when she grows older.

But now that Alfred was stating that Bruce should allow Amira to go out, Bruce wondered if he had been approaching this situation wrong this entire time.

But what if villains found out about her being his daughter? Of being a Way-

Bruce stood there in his thoughts for a while before an idea wouldn’t leave his head. Why didn’t he think about this sooner?

Amira let out a gasp as she entered the circus tent, gaping at how large it was, taken aback at how many people there were inside the tent.

There was even a second level inside the tent!

“Is it usually this crowded?” Amira asked the man next to her. Or rather, Tom Dupain - her ‘father.’

“I heard it’s like this because of Mr.Wayne visiting the circus today, but it usually is this crowded during Sunday shows.” Tom provided, watching as Amira continued to look around, a smile escaping him.

He always wondered what it felt like to have a child, wondering if he was even up to the task.

When Bruce Wayne had reached out to him to look after his daughter, Tom Dupain accepted the honor. After all, it was thanks to Bruce that his tiny bakery in Gotham was taking off, Tom’s dream of being a well known bakery taking form. All it took was one gala and Tom’s pastries for his dream to take off, Tom knowing he owed Bruce a huge favor.

He had met the young Wayne at that very gala, the girl having snuck into the kitchen to get a taste of one of his pastries. Amira Wayne - Tom only knew her as Amira and the granddaughter of Mr.Alfred Pennyworth. Tom didn’t think Amira was Bruce’s daughter as there was no news about the young Wayne.

While Tom had only known her for a few moments before Alfred shooed her away, Tom had grown a soft spot for the child.

“Mr.Dupain-”

“Tom is fine.”

“Mr.Tom,” Amira corrected herself. “Thank you for letting me be here today.” Amira said, holding Tom’s hand with both of hers.

Just as Tom was about to respond, the ringmaster chose that moment to begin the show.

Amira watched as the ringmaster welcomed the people and shouted out her father, seeing him across the tent, smiling when they saw each other.

The ringmaster then introduced the Flying Graysons, Amira’s eyes widening at how high up the family was. She wondered if her own father would allow her to be that high up.

With the cheering of the crowd, Amira watched with wonder as the Grayson’s started their performance, starting with a somersault. She watched as the man caught his wife with ease, the woman sending a salut before going onto the platform. Amira watched with absolutely glee as she watched the son do two somersaults in the air before returning back to the platform.

Amira listened as the ringmaster announced the Graysons' famous trick. Amira stood at the edge of her seat, feeling her heart thump loudly against her chest. She watched as the woman spun once, twice...thrice! But as soon as she was caught by her husband, the string of the bar snapped, Amira feeling her heart come to a stop.

She watched as the two fell and just as they were two were mere feet away from touching the ground, her eyes were covered.

Amira would never forget the screams she heard as she was ushered out of the tent. She heard Tom whisper to her that everything was going to be okay in rushed French.

That everything was fine.

That was the first and last time she was allowed to step out of the manor for a very long time.

#maribat #bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #b!dbwm2020 #bio!dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #amira wayne #anju writes

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awhitehead17 · 4 years ago

Note

For the prompts: how about Jay taking care of Tim when he’s having a rough day?

Thank you for the prompt! So this turned out longer than I planned for it too and also a lot more angsty than expected but that’s balanced out with comfort and fluff! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! :D

As he taps the pen rhythmically against a piece of paper, Jason stares at the laptop in front of him, trying to make sense on what he’s looking at. He’s got multiple police reports up on the screen as he tries to cross reference notes on a recent case he’s tied up in as the Red Hood.

While his reputation says otherwise, Jason does in fact do his homework on cases before he dives into beating the bad guys asses. He was raised by the world’s greatest detective after all.

A sudden bang snaps Jason out of his thoughts and he looks away from the computer with a frown. When a second bang sounds out, shortly after the first, Jason gets up to his feet in order to go and investigate the sounds which he thinks were coming from the hallway.

As he crosses the living room and gets closer to the hallway he hears someone mumbling underneath their breath. Whoever it is they were using many different swear words and curses and were very clearly pissed at something.

Bracing himself for the worst, Jason steps out into the hallway and freezes at the unexpected sight. Tim’s standing at the door, angrily swearing to himself as he roughly yanks off his tie and as he kicks off his shoes. He looks awful and if the angry vibe was anything to go by, he hasn’t had a great day either.

“Tim?” He speaks up getting the attention of his younger brother.

The kid instantly stops his stream of curses and snaps his head up, his eyes go wide as he spots Jason standing somewhat awkwardly in the doorway to the living room.

“Jason? What are you doing here?” His tone was sharp and if Jason didn’t know him better he would think that Tim is accusing him of something. But he does know Tim and he knows that the tone is the result of a long and exhausting day. Jason doesn’t take any offense but it does cause his concern to grow.

“I’m working on a case and this apartment is the closest to the base of operations – are you okay?” Jason starts explaining but gives up halfway through, he needs to know what’s going on with Tim. “What’s with all the swearing? That isn’t like you.”

A heavy silence falls between them and all Tim does is unsettlingly blinks at him. Before Jason could push for an answer Tim is huffing and throwing his bag down on the ground. As if that treatment wasn’t enough, he kicks the thing and pins Jason with a hard and furious look.

“You want to know what’s wrong Jason? Everything! That’s what! Everything is wrong and I’m just done with it.”

Jason only has a second to register the words before his brother is storming past him and further into the apartment. Currently unsure on what to do, Jason wordlessly follows Tim as they go through the living room and into the kitchen.

He stares as Tim unnecessarily slams cupboard doors shut and aggressively goes through the process of making a coffee. Jason’s surprised the mug doesn’t smash with how hard Tim slams it onto the counter.

This certainly wasn’t expected. He had been expecting Tim to turn up at some point during the evening, it’s his apartment after all, but he hadn’t been prepared for Tim to come home in a bad temper. It’s not often that Tim gets into bad moods like this. It takes a lot to rile up his usually level-headed brother so the fact that Tim is like this means that something major has happened which has placed him in this mood.

As far as he knows, no one has died so that’s not a reason behind the mood. Could it be work related? Tim’s in a suit meaning he’s been to the office that day so that’s a protentional explanation. It may be family related? Either Damian, Dick or Bruce may have pissed him off recently. Or perhaps it’s a mixture of things that have been building up over time and today just happens to be his final breaking point.

While Jason would like to know the reason behind this mood, he also knows that it’s not really his business and that he shouldn’t push the issue. What he does know is that he needs to make sure Tim stays safe and looks after himself. Jason needs to get him calmed down and maybe talk about what’s happened. Talking helps, or so he’s told. He’s never been one to listen to that advice himself but it may help Tim out.

“Why are you still here?”

Jason’s line of thoughts are broken when Tim snaps at him. His brother is now glaring at him while he leans against the counter with a mug of coffee in his hands. Jason feels himself bristle at Tim’s tone, he hasn’t done anything to deserve the snappiness. He knows he shouldn’t put up with the attitude but instead of retaliating he takes a deep breath and gets his emotions under control. Something has happened and Tim’s current way of coping with it is by lashing out and Jason just happens to be there.

Knowing that Tim isn’t likely to talk about whatever is up with him, Jason decides on a different approach. Ignoring the tension in the atmosphere, he wonders over to the fridge and starts browsing its contents.

“Have you eaten today? It’s about dinner time and I’m starving.” He says conversationally but isn’t expecting a response. He spots some cheese in the fridge and gets an idea. “How about pasta with a cheese sauce? Hopefully you have all of the ingredients needed.”

He grabs a few items and places them on the side and starts rummaging through the cupboards looking for the things needed. The entire time he ignores the death glare Tim is sending him from his place against the counter.

By the time Tim next speaks up, Jason had found everything he needed and has started to prep the ingredients.

“Jason, what the hell are you doing? What makes you think you have the right to come in here and prance around like you own the place!”

Telling himself to not fall for the bait, Jason hums to himself and continues with the prep. “Making dinner Timmy, what does it look like?”

A loud thump gets his attention and Jason peers over at Tim to find that he had slammed his mug down onto the side. Jason knows he’s pushing his luck but he’s hoping if he puts Tim’s stubbornness to the test his attitude will break and then Jason will be able to have a civil conversation with him. Call it tough love if you will.

His brother opens his mouth to say something else but Jason stops him from doing so. He places the knife down on the cutting board and stalks over to Tim, placing his hands on his shoulder’s Jason steers him out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

“While I get dinner ready, you go and have a shower and dress into some comfy clothes. I’ll have this ready by the time you’re finished.”

“Absolutely not! You can’t tell me what to do, this is fucking ridiculous. You’re-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jason interrupts firmly, lowering his tone so Tim gets the message, “and the longer we stand here arguing about it the longer it’s going to complete dinner.”

Tim’s face scrunches up in obvious distaste. His lips pull back in a snarl and in an uncharacteristic action he shoves Jason backwards before storming away, screaming over his shoulder “I hate you!”

Jason takes another breath and reminds himself to not take it to heart, Tim doesn’t mean it. In the distance he hears another door slam shut and figures Tim must have gone to the bedroom or bathroom. With not a lot of other options Jason turns back to the kitchen, he has a pasta dish to finish after all.

----

“I’m sorry.”

Jason glances up from where he was placing two plates full of pasta on the table in the living room. He spots Tim standing in the doorway and Jason instantly notices the difference in his stance compared to earlier.

Tim’s shoulders were hunched over, he had his arms wrapped around himself, he’s looking everywhere but at Jason and his voice was quiet and sounded defeated. It’s like all of the fight has finally drained out of him, leaving him feeling exhausted and depleted. It’s not surprising because it’s exactly what Jason had been after, even if it does break his heart to see his brother look so withdrawn.

Instead of pointing it out, he gestures to the table. “Just in time, foods ready.”

Tim shakes his head. “Look Jason you don’t have to-”

Jason cuts him off. “I know I don’t have to but I want to. Now eat and then we can talk properly.”

Understanding that he isn’t going to win Tim trudges over to the table and slumps into a chair. They don’t converse while they eat but to fill the silence they put the TV on which makes good background noise.

Once they were finished Jason gathers up the dishes and takes them into the kitchen before heading back to the living room, he’ll clean them up later. Tim hadn’t moved in that short time so what Jason does is grab a chair and places it backwards in front of Tim. He sits down and leans his arms on the back of the chair and looks at his brother.

In a gentle tone he prods Tim carefully. “Have you calmed down now?” Tim mutely nods, still refusing to look at him. “Okay good. Now you don’t have to but would you like to talk about what all that attitude was about? What happened Tim, it isn’t like you to snap like that.”

He sees Tim visibly swallow and take a deep breath, clearly preparing himself to talk. Jason doesn’t push him, he patiently waits for Tim to open up himself.

“I’m sorry.” Tim says again. “I – it just. Jesus I don’t even know. It’s been a shitty day, a shitty week, and today I just snapped and then I took it out on you which you really didn’t deserve so I apologize for that and for what I said. I don’t hate you and you know you’re more than welcome at any of my apartments.”

Jason couldn’t help but frown as Tim rambles on explaining his week and the events leading up to the boiling point. He tells Jason it had gotten to the point where any little thing had begun to piss him off, even the sound of the coffee machine at work was annoying him.

Tim ends his explanation by burying his head in his arms on top of the table.

Sighing Jason stands up from the chair and steps towards Tim, wordlessly he pulls his brother up to his feet and gathers him into a tight hug. Tim doesn’t fight it, his arms immediately wrap around Jason and he buries his face into his chest. To his surprise Tim doesn’t cry but he does cling onto him like a lifeline, all Jason can do is hug him back just as tight.

Resting his cheek on top of Tim’s slightly damp hair he says, “You are not going on patrol tonight. You may be calmer than earlier but you’re still not in the right frame of mind to go out. Instead what we’re going to do is stick a film on and then do absolutely nothing. Tomorrow is a new day and things will be better. We can work out all the details leading up to this later on.”

It takes a moment but Tim nods his understanding into Jason’s chest. It proves Jason’s point that Tim needs the rest because he didn’t even try to protest against the idea. He squeezes Tim one more time before letting him go.

“Okay, now go choose a film while I clear the dishes then I’ll join you.”

Tim nods again but before Jason could leave the room his brother is speaking up. “Again Jason, thank you. I don’t know why you put up with that shit I gave you but I really appreciate you not lashing out and putting your foot down. So thank you, I’ll make it up to you.”

Jason snorts. “No thanks needed Timbers. You’ve done just as much, if not more, for me in the past. It’s time to live up to the big brother title.” That gets Tim to crack a smile. With that achieved Jason finally leaves the room, telling Tim a second time to choose a film.

He hopes he can help Tim further than what he’s done so that night. He hadn’t even known if his chosen method would work or not but he’s glad it somewhat has. He’ll have another talk with the kid in the morning when they’ve rested and had more time to reflect on what’s happened.

#prompt #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #bat bros #hurt and comfort #angst #fluff #tim having a hard time #but jason's there for him #sibling relationship #big brother jason #sorry this turned out more angsty than expected #it just happened #fanfiction #Poor Tim #but i hope this is okay

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herecomesnaya · 4 years ago

Note

Oh here I am, I think I'll take a bottle of: Roman’s abusive tactics have worn down Jason 2020, if you don't mind, thank you very much 🤲

yes indeedy! let’s see what I got here...

so, in the beginning, Jason was a lot different than he is now in terms of attitude. snarkier. more willing to fight back. his internal monologue less doubtful and uncertain of himself. able to spit Roman’s cum into his wine glass and walk away without a second thought. says no out loud more often, implies Roman is the crazy one.

but then, slowly, it changes around. it’s (I hope) subtle at first. Roman’s first tactic to start breaking Jason down isn’t to tear him down, but to build him up. he calls him a good boy. praises him for taking it so well. shows the barest modicum of care at some points, which feels like a hell of a lot to Jason, considering 1) it’s Black Mask and 2) Jason doesn’t ever particularly feel like he’s worthy of praise, so it leaves more of an impact when it happens.

starting in chapter 4, Roman begins to change Jason’s line of thinking from what he wants to what Roman wants. it starts off most evidently during sex, so Jason doesn’t realize what’s happening, just thinks of it in the context of it being a play scene. but the reason Roman broke him down until Jason told him to do whatever he wanted to him is because he was trying to prime Jason to carry that belief with him outside of the bedroom.

by chapter 5, he’s managed to convince Jason slowly over the course of the fic that what Roman wants, though, is actually what Jason��wants. Jason may not entirely believe it yet, but Roman consistently reinforces this narrative:

“I-I— I'm sorry, okay?” he says, hoping that'll be the end of it. “I was wrong. You were right. Could you stop being weird now?”

“Oh, but I'm only giving you what you want,” Roman says, his voice like silk over ice. “Let's try things your way. What do you say, boys? Hm? Should we give Red Hood's methods a chance?”

the purpose is to make Jason doubt himself. to gaslight him into thinking that he practically asked to be treated like shit. because he comes when they have sex, and Roman treats him like shit while they fuck, so clearly that means Jason’s desires = being treated like shit, right?

chapter 6 is probably Jason’s last big defiant action before he gets, well, not completely complacent, but pretty damn close. fucking Chain is something he’d never have done at the beginning of the fic, but by this point, his psyche has already been re-shaped a bit by Roman’s tactics. sex is at the forefront of his mind where it wouldn’t have been before. sex is a tactic to get what you want from someone: he learned that from Roman.

by the end of the chapter, he’s gone through subspace (not for the first time in the fic, but more on that in my subspace meta), and while he’s still in that state, Roman does one of his little tactics to get Jason to trust him more: he takes off his mask while they’re in bed together, although he doesn’t let Jason see.

in chapter 7, we get more of Roman undermining Jason’s intelligence:

“Oh, Red,” Roman says with a shake of his head. “Still tragically incompetent with words, as always. You're lucky I know you well enough to realize you've got more going in there than you let on.” He accompanies this with a tap to his temple, and Jason at least has the good sense to feel offended.

he constantly reinforces the narrative that Jason has more brawns than brain, and needs someone like Roman to get him to “think clearly.” this is meant to make Jason doubt himself, wonder if he’s really thinking straight when Roman isn’t in his head.

in chapter 7, Jason also asks for one of the things he’s consistently been denied: boundaries. and Roman’s response?

“I admit I was a bit overzealous. I apologize,” Roman says, not sounding very contrite. “But that's exactly what I'm talking about. You need to trust that whatever I do to you, it'll work out in your favor. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Roman asks for obedience, not thought. trust, not mutual understanding. it’s about what he wants, and Jason, more and more, is starting to go along with it.

and what happens when Jason trusts Roman? well, he gets one of the best fucks of his life...

but also, a bunch of people die. whoops?

Jason’s guilt over this incident is so strong, and Dick comes into the story at exactly the perfect time to exacerbate that. in chapter 8, here’s where things really take a turn for the worse.

Jason is put in a position where he has to justify his attraction to Roman, and defend himself against actions that he feels personally responsible for. and what happens when he does that? it reinforces the until now unspoken belief that he really does want Roman to do whatever he wants to him.

because now there’s another party involved. now Dick knows he didn’t fight back like he “could” have, like he “should” have. now Jason, in his mind, has outside confirmation that he’s a willing party in this, and even goes so far as to wish he’s being raped to avoid having any culpability in it.

(the irony here being that Jason is being raped, because Roman consistently pushes past his boundaries when he says a clear “no.” he just doesn’t realize that it still counts as rape even if you come. he’d realize this if it were someone else in his position, but because it’s him, because he’s Jason Todd, because he’s stupid, because he doesn’t know how to admit what he wants, it can’t be rape. it can’t be. right?)

so he ends up leaving the confrontation with Dick feeling more isolated from his family, his only possible support system. feeling on edge, terrified that Dick will tell Bruce, and that he’ll be ousted from the family again, the black sheep that no one likes.

it’s this guilt and doubt and pain and terror that brings him into Roman’s arms, where he does arguably the most extreme session of the fic to that point. and that’s exactly where Roman wants him.

the next day, Roman really ramps things up. he sets up a fake situation where it appears that he’s been worriedly tending to Jason’s wounds all night. author’s note: he hasn’t. he’s full of fucking shit.

this line right here?

“I knew it,” he says a moment later, shoulders sagging under the tailored sleeves of his suit. “I knew you'd wake up as soon as I left.”

this is a little writer’s trick we in the biz like to call “a lie.” Roman can say that line literally whenever he comes into Jason’s room, and it’s like, oops, he only just stepped out for a minute! teehee! when in reality, he’s left Jason alone the entire night. Jason never receives proper aftercare, this is intentional.

but it still works. Roman manages to convince Jason, in his despair, to part with the knowledge that he used to be Robin. Jason is so alone at this point, he just wants someone to know that he’s in pain. and Roman has gotten him into subspace and “taken away the pain” often enough that Jason relies on him for it now. it’s like a drug to him.

and then comes the present. a simple gesture, and an easy one when you’re as rich as Roman Sionis. just a couple books. but to Jason, they mean so much more. they’re a “confirmation” that Roman listened to him speak about more than just business and sex. a “confirmation” that he does care, at least a little bit.

spoilers: he doesn’t. he doesn’t at all. it’s just a cheap way to endear Jason to him further, and Jason is in such an emotionally wrecked state that it actually works.

and then what does Roman do right when Jason has that realization?

he buys a bunch of hookers and spends all night paying attention to one.

give Jason attention, take it away. make him jealous. make it so that Jason is the one who wants Roman’s attention, not the other way around. and it works.

and when Jason gets upset and expresses that to Roman, his feelings are again downplayed and minimized.

“...I already told you what this means. Did you see a collar on her?”

It takes a second for Jason to realize Roman’s let up on his throat enough for him to speak. When he does, it’s hesitant and raspy.

“...No.” Roman lifts him by the neck, smacks his head pointedly back against the concrete. Jason corrects himself. “No, sir.”

Again, his airway gets cut off. “That’s right. Just because I’ve got some bimbo hanging off my arm doesn’t mean I give a damn about her one way or the other. This was supposed to boost morale, after everything that’s happened.”

Jason winces. He wonders if “everything” means his illness, or if it stretches all the way back to the former lieutenants now headless and chained to the bottom of Gotham Harbor. Either way, it’s his fault. That much is clear.

so now, once again, Jason feels responsible for his own anguish, even when it’s Roman’s fault, specifically building him up and tearing him down again. gaslighting him more to make him feel crazy. like he can’t trust his own emotions. like he needs Roman to make sense of them for him.

so Jason gets drunk to deal with the pain. and Roman eventually relents and gives him the attention he wants.

how does Jason respond?

a drunken love confession. Jason is now so broken down that he mistakes Roman’s token affection for love. he wants it to be love. he needs it to be, because that would make everything make sense. the way he feels. the way Roman is acting. everything.

and then, once Jason confesses, we get another sharp slap to the face by Roman: his “punishment” for being driven to drink, being cuckolded by Ms. Li. Roman knows at this point that Jason loves him. he’s using that against him by forcing Jason to watch him with someone else.

but he also throws him a bone: the knowledge that there’s a shipment coming in. he knows Jason wants to know about it. knows why he’s there. he needs to keep Jason tethered to him, keep him feeling like he’s getting what he wants when he’s actually doing exactly what Roman wants.

we can also see Roman continuing to subtly tear down Jason’s confidence in himself:

“Son, please,” Roman sighs, lifting a hand to cut him off. “Quite the contrary. It wasn’t an accident that I let you overhear that last night. That was your reward for complying so well, if anything.”

Immediately, Jason feels like his outburst was overblown. He shrinks back into his seat, looking down at the scraps of food on his plate.

Jason isn’t allowed to question Roman. if he does, it’s only because he’s an overdramatic brat. his feelings are constantly minimized, replaced by whatever feelings Roman deems it appropriate for him to have.

and then we get to the most recent chapter, with Roman manipulating Jason into having a conversation with Batman. Jason is given a week to prepare what he wants to say. and what does Roman do?

he doesn’t give Jason a second alone to think. constantly on him, fucking him, hurting him, giving him pleasure, distracting him. he doesn’t want Jason to be prepared. he wants him to be caught off-guard and thinking only of what Roman wants. then, only then, will he be the perfect little soldier to stand in front of Batman and pledge his allegience to Black Mask properly.

and that’s where we left off! there’s going to be even more delicious, horrible manipulation in the newest chapter, so I hope you guys are excited! can’t wait to publish it!

#ask #fic chatter #Blurry #daddy tag #tw rape #tw abuse #elidebrey

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beccarooni · 5 years ago

Note

Thorbruce cuddling fic?

(A.N: wow this one has been waiting a long time! I'm sorry it took me forever, but I hope you enjoy the fic and anyone else I do take requests!)

Bruce knew he shouldn't have agreed to watch horror movies with Tony. It had been late, the long night at the lab stretching into an early morning, and he knew he should've been getting to bed.

But, the billionaire didn't seem to want to settle down quite yet. And so, who was Bruce to say no, really?

Not a lot of people could say no to Tony Stark - not when he turned those big brown eyes on you and claimed he didn't want to be alone for the night.

Bruce didn't want to be alone either. And so, he'd said yes. Obviously.

And then Tony had put on some cheesy horror flick from the 80s, and Bruce had said, 'yes, of course'. He'd seen aliens invade New York, he transformed into a giant green monster sometimes on the daily. Suffice it to say, he'd seen enough to not get jumpy at horror movies anymore.

The weather didn't help much. Cracks of lightning forked against the sky, wind howled, and rain pattered almost horizontally across the large windows as he made his way back to his room. The storm stretched out the shadows, made monsters out of coat hooks, and had Bruce significantly more on edge when he was imagining some knife-fingered murderer lurking behind every door.

He was so caught up in meticulously imagining the theoretical ways that he could kick some monster butt that when he entered his room, he almost didn't register the other presence there.

But, the large shape moved, and Bruce dealt with it as any strong and powerful superhero would.

He yelped and tripped over a kitchen table.

Groaning, he stumbled to his feet, different scenarios flying through his head when another fork of lightning illuminated the familiar face in front of him.

Thor was sat on his sofa, hair dripping from the rain, blue eyes wide with something that shoved Bruce's imaginary foes to the side in exchange for something a touch more real. A touch more worrying.

"Thor?"

Bruce let out a careful sigh of relief, shrugging his cardigan from his shoulders in a fruitless effort to seem more casual after his...dramatic entrance.

"I uh…didn't mean to frighten you, so. Are you well?"

Thor leant forward, frowning with concern at where Bruce's knee had made great battle with the table leg.

"No, no - I'm fine. Just wasn't expecting you, is all." He perched on the arm of the sofa, one arm extending towards the hanging cord of a lamp.

"Thought you weren't due back from Asgard except for emergencies?"

"Strictly speaking, I'm not back."

Thor's voice wavered somewhat, and the Demigod shied away from the light, scooting further back on the sofa - large, broad shoulders hunching over in an effort to look small.

Not that Thor ever really could look small. But the action alone was somewhat concerning.

Blonde hair fell over blue eyes as Thor jerked his head up towards the door, with a flash of recognition like he'd just remembered something important.

"Please don't tell Stark I'm here. Or anyone. Asgard doesn't know I'm gone, and I just -"

"Hey, hey. It's fine, everyone's asleep now, anyway. No one's gotta know."

Ok, Bruce was moving from concerned into outright fearful. Thor's voice was shaking harder than his shoulders, and he restlessly shifted from position to position - hands gripping the soft material of the sofa with so tight a grip that it was a miracle the wood wasn't splintering.

"Just out of curiosity, why are you here? Is something wrong?"

"Yes. Well, no. Well…" Thor trailed off, shaking his head as his frown deepened.

"It's personal."

"Right."

Cautiously, Bruce extended a hand out to rest against Thor's shoulder.

In moments like these, however far and wide they may have been, it was better to approach Thor slowly rather than rush in. Mostly out of self preservation - when the Demigod got upset, things tended to get…sparky. The kind of sparky that may entice a certain green individual out to see what all the fuss is about, and Bruce was really trying to keep the tower intact.

Bruce's hand made contact, and mercifully, his nerves remained thoroughly un-electrocuted.

"You uh...wanna talk about it?"

"It is… difficult to explain,"

Thor glanced up, his face forming a bitter ghost of his usual 1000 volt grin.

"You'll think me mad."

"Try me."

Thor nodded, more to himself than anything else, and the ice cold fear in Bruce's lungs began to thaw.

Thor, thankfully, was not as shut off as others would like to believe. Or, maybe he was, and Bruce was one of the rare few privy to the Asgardians feelings. Whatever the case, it never took too much prying from Bruce to get to the route of Thor's troubles.

The two told each other things. That's just how it was. It was a warm feeling - comforting. Like a cozy blanket settled across the shoulders, or a mug of hot tea clasped between two cold hands.

For so long, it seemed the both of them were encouraged to lock down feelings. To freeze emotion where it stood.

For some reason, Bruce felt capable of thawing in the warmth of Thor's sun. And he was all too happy to return the favour.

"I have not been resting well, as of late. Being on Asgard, knowing Loki is below me somewhere in a dungeon, it just feels...wrong. Like I shouldn't be sleeping - like I am undeserving, "

Thor shrugged his shoulders, some of the tension beginning to seep out.

"But I'm so tired, Bruce."

The demigod's head fell into his hands, the rain outside hammering against the windowpane. Bruce tried not to flinch at the sound of thunder - a tremendously difficult task when you know for a fact that the storm is brewing right above your head, and that the source of it is curled next to you, currently having a crisis of guilt.

Bruce let a few beats of silence pass by, rubbing comforting circles into the demigods shoulder as he mulled over the words.

"Thor, could you look at me for a sec?"

Thor, albeit a little reluctantly, met Bruce's eyeline - suddenly seeming so much younger peeking out from behind stray strands of hair.

Younger, and so much more afraid.

"You know what happened in New York wasn't your fault, right?"

The scientist moved a little closer, until his knee brushed against the cold metal of the top of Thor's boot.

"If I had not expressed an interest in Midgard, then-"

"Then Loki would've come through the tesseracts portal regardless. This one isn't on you. It's...I don't know, I don't think it's on anyone."

Tony's frantic eyes momentarily flashed before him, and Bruce's face fell somewhat as he muttered.

"Anyone we know of, at least."

"The damage is still done, Bruce. Regardless of where or who by."

A shuddering sigh escaped the demigod, his voice suddenly sounding that much tighter.

"It is my burden to bear, my penance to pay, and I am not even sure I can do that for much longer."

Bruce smiled softly, bringing one calloused hand up to rest against the side of Thor's neck. The gesture seemed to bring a sense of familiarity, and for a moment, the rain outside didn't hammer so loudly. Thor's skin was warm under his hand, and in the silence of the living room, Bruce could've sworn he could feel the storm move and shift under Thor's skin.

"Y'know, we've got a saying here on Midgard. 'A problem shared is a problem halved' - you know that one?"

"No," Thor frowned, turning to face him a little more.

"What does it mean?"

"It means that you don't have to bear this burden alone, Thor. I've got you."

He unclenched his other hand from the sofa, linking his fingers between Thor's.

"You can rest here."

Watching scary movies with Tony had been a bad idea. It made sleeping alone that much more unbearable, when you'd imagine monsters of every calibre creeping up behind you.

But, it seemed that Bruce had stumbled across a cure for that particular ailment. One in the form of a large and thunderous Demigod, sprawled across his sofa, head laying in Bruce's lap - snoring loud enough to put the wakened dead back in their coffins.

He was glad Thor didn't take much coaxing with these sorts of things. The Demigod didn't seem to indulge in comforts of the emotional kind too often - the large armour and the old English seemed to speak of a childhood where comfort like this was pushed away.

But, Bruce was happy to be an exception. Happy to lend Thor a t-shirt and sweatpants that were comically small on him, happy to endure shoulder cramp if that meant the demigod would get a good night's sleep for once.

Thor would return the favour, someday. But for now, Bruce could provide a sanctuary of his own.

#thorbruce #fic #fic request #thunderscience #thor #bruce banner #emotional hurt/comfort #light angst #cuddle fic #gammahammer #thruce #fanfic #my fic

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star-spangledstud · 5 years ago

Text

The Cure Keeper - One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (female!)reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t quite know how the microwave works. Thankfully, you’re there to help him out.

Word count: 2300-ish.

Warnings: none

A/N: There he is! Tags are open ;) hmu!

Avengers Tower, New York City, USA. 12 May 2018, 1:55 AM.

You don’t remember how long you’ve been reading Shakespeare for when your stomach violently spasms for the third time in less than five minutes. You chose to ignore the growls before, but when the sound is so loud you’re almost sure it can be heard from the floor above, you finally allow your eyes to stray from the beautifully written words. You hear raindrops, thick and translucent as they fall against the windows when your stomach finally settles down, and you hope the weather clears up again tomorrow.

You’re thirsty, the kind of thirst that brings a headache with it if you choose to ignore it long enough. The kind headache that includes pain that leaves a lingering throb behind your eyes, as if someone is pushing against the sockets with their fingers and pinching the nerves with the tips. It’s the kind of headache that sneaks up on you and gets progressively worse as the day continues, only to be relieved under a hot shower or by sleeping it off.

The clock’s illuminated letters worry you because you’ve been at it for far longer than you know is good for you. It’s the rain, you think. It does something to your emotions you can’t quite understand, never have. It causes melancholy to settle deep within your bones, causes you to want nothing but to curl in bed with blankets over your head. That’s why you hope it clears up tomorrow. You prefer the heat of the sun and the rays that warm you from the inside. It’s pleasant, harsh yet gentle, and less constricting than rain.

You get up finally, shoving the covers to the side before slipping out of bed. The floor is chilly, but you don’t bother to locate the fluffy slippers Bruce gave you for Christmas. You take the book with you, yawning when your eyes locate where you last left off.

You’re not surprised to find him in the kitchen at this hour, fiddling with the buttons on the microwave like he’s never used one before. Perhaps, you think, he hasn’t. Usually, he gets somebody else to do the heating and defrosting for him, but everyone is gone now except for you and Bruce, and God knows where on earth Bruce is. He only shows his face when he’s sick of staring at computer screens and stacks of notes, and he doesn’t get sick of working very quickly, so both of you doubt you’ll see him pop up any time soon.

You know Bucky hasn’t heard you come in, because he doesn’t make a move to let you know he’s aware of your presence. The muscles on the side of his neck are tense and his jaw is clenched and for a small moment, you fear he’s going to break the device off its hinges and toss it across the kitchen in a fit of rage.

The window is cracked open just a bit. It lets in the bitter New York breeze, making you shiver when you remember what you’re wearing. In your defense, it was sunny when you put it on. Granted, that was nearly 16 hours ago, but still. Your hair brushes against the side of your face when you cross the wind’s path and it amuses you to know he still has no clue you’re this close to him. For a deadly assassin, he sure is oblivious.

Bucky doesn’t notice you when you walk into the common kitchen, not because he’s so engrossed in trying to figure out how to work the microwave for a bag of popcorn, but because you’re extremely silent, even to a guy with heightened hearing.

Book in hand, carefully flipping the pages every once in a while, you’re sitting at the dining table before he even realizes you’re there and his heart skips at least three beats when he finally does. It isn’t the first time that you manage to sneak up on the man with enhanced senses, because you seemed to almost float through the halls of the compound like a little fucking fairy, and while he curses quietly to himself, Bucky recognizes it won’t be the last.

Speaking of fairies, you look like one too, with strands of hair flowing behind you when you skip happily through the building on days where infinite rays of sunshine illuminate it from all angles. You don’t skip on rainy days, but even then, it’s almost hard for him to imagine your feet are touching the ground you walk on.

He’s stunned completely in place, partially because you managed to get so close to him without drawing his attention from the flickering microwave that’s not behind him, but mostly because you seem to pay him no mind like he’s nothing but a ghost to you. Big and bright doe eyes are on the book, frantically scanning the lines from left to right and he knows you’re getting to a good part because your breath hitches just before you turn the next page.

He’s never been a reader himself, Bucky prefers to watch pictures on the television over words written on paper. You seem to feel the opposite.

Bucky doesn’t want to interrupt whatever’s happening inside your head, your imagination no-doubt fully playing out whatever’s written inside the book scene by scene. It’s a different one from the one you were reading yesterday, that one undoubtedly already finished and placed neatly at the top of your bookcase, which took up the entirety of one of your bedroom walls. He can tell from the cover, which shows the picture of two kissing people, as opposed to the plain purple covered book you held to your chest the day before.

You’re a complete mystery to him.

He’s never seen you in action, nor does he have any idea what you’re capable of other than to look angelic in the kitchen at this ungodly hour and to creep up on people. Oh, and you can read fast. He figured out that when Tony brought in a stack of books for your last birthday and you finished them in less than a week. He thinks he saw you at the gym once, but you were leaving just as he came in and the earbuds in your ear obstructed you from hearing his greeting. He hasn’t seen you down there since.

He’s tried to ask Steve once, three months after becoming a permanent part of the team, but Steve was busy filing very classified and highly important paperwork at the time and the conversation hasn’t resurfaced, not even four months later, when he has done countless missions since then, all without you. He doesn’t want to pry, but his curiosity gets the better of him every time he catches you laughing with Peter over some 21st century inside joke he doesn’t understand. He still hasn’t figured out pop culture references, to his dismay.

The itch to say something is right below his skin, but he’s too mesmerized by the sight of your bare feet crossed over the top of the table, summer dress rose high enough to show your thighs while you’re balancing the chair on two legs. It’s dangerous, it could fall backward and you could slam your head onto the concrete, but you’re doing it so effortlessly he tries not to think about it. Besides, what would he even say to you that would make you stop? He hardly knows you. You probably don’t like him. A lot of people don’t like the Winter Soldier, even though he’s not under mind control anymore. The metal arm is enough to have people cowering away in fear. You, however, Bucky can’t imagine anyone being afraid of you.

Instead of commenting on you potentially cracking open your skull, he swallows the words that burn on his tongue and turns back to the microwave, one hand on his hip in frustration and the other on the buttons. The shrill sound of irregular beeps brings you from your book at last, and an amused expression falls upon your soft features when you take in the scene before your eyes. You set the novel upside down as to not lose the correct page and take in the sight of Bucky’s disheveled appearance for the first time since entering the kitchen.

He’s wearing green sweatpants and a black figure-hugging t-shirt, feet clad in fluffy black socks with anti-slip on the soles so he doesn’t go sliding around the compound at 2 in the morning. His hair is tied in a low bun, but you can tell he’s been messing with it because strands are beginning to fall from the hair tie down the nape of his neck and his ears.

“Need any help with that?” You ask him, voice soft-spoken and quiet as if you’re afraid to wake anyone even though nobody besides the two of you is currently sleeping on this floor.

Just this morning, a Quinjet full of agents left the compound, leaving only you, Bucky and Bruce behind, and Bucky’s pretty sure Bruce sleeps in his lab. He doesn’t mind, because he’s sick of people hearing him shouting in his bed at night, haunted by the nightmares filled with images of horrendous acts he committed against innocent people. He knows you’ve heard him because your room is next door to his, but you’ve never said anything about it. He’s grateful for it.

Bucky jumps, once again not having heard you sneak upon him, and turns his torso slightly sideways so he can look down on you. Because he’s well over a foot taller than you and at least twice as broad. You have dimples even when you don’t smile that seemed to have permanently etched themselves on both sides of your cheeks and tiny freckles that you don’t care to hide with layers of make-up cover your nose and forehead. You’re young, much younger than his 101-year-old self, but he can’t tell exactly how young. 23, he guesses, but what does he know?

“Hello?” You wave your hands in front of his face and he suddenly realizes he’s been staring at you from behind glassy eyes, “earth to James. You need a hand or what?”

James. You’re the only one who calls him that. Nobody calls him James, not even the people that enjoy pushing his buttons. It’s always Bucky, Buck, Barnes, or whatever dumb nickname Tony manages to pull out of his ass at any given time, but never James. He likes it, even though he’s not sure whether he does because it’s a breath of fresh air to hear his first name among a sea of nicknames, or because it’s you who’s saying it. It sounds pure and normal like it doesn’t belong to him, but you’re addressing him alright, not someone else.

“Yeah, sorry,” he breathes out, “technology’s still not my strong suit.”

You smile, exposing pearly white teeth, and he steps aside to allow you access to the device. You have to get on the tips of your toes to reach the timer, courtesy of Tony Stark, who for some reason thought only tall people needed easy access to the damn thing when he had it installed, but you don’t seem to mind. He suspects you’re used to it, being the shortest person in the room. It adds to your childlike innocence, he thinks.

Three buttons are all you need to push for the microwave to light up the flat bag of popcorn lying inside, its quiet hums quickly filling the silent kitchen. You smile again, no teeth this time, and head for the fridge, where you grab a bottle of water before sitting back down in your seat. He’s thankful because he’s really craving a late-night snack and to be fair, he was very close to grabbing a pan from the cupboard and cooking it on the stove. Of course, then, he would have to figure out the induction plates and that’s a battle for another day.

You drink from the bottle, chugging nearly half before placing it down and picking up your book again. You return to your original position, naked toes wiggling while you balance in the chair. It reminds him of one of those circus acts on a rope. The popping of popcorn soothes him slightly, but knowing that the silence will return after it’s done makes him nervous. It’s funny to him because he can’t even remember how many people he’s killed in cold blood and yet you’re the one to make him feel nervous.

Three minutes later, a ding interrupts the mixture of hums and pops and, as suspected, the finished product of Bucky’s late-night endeavor once again envelops the two of you in silence. He picks the bag out of the microwave, careful not to burn his fingers despite knowing they’ll heal fast, unwilling to choose practicality over comfort. He plunges the contents into a glass bowl, making sure to get each little kernel until there’s nothing left but salt and oil inside the bag. He doesn’t bother throwing the bag away. It stays on the counter until the cleaning lady comes by the next morning.

“Want some?” He asks with a mouthful.

It’s a miracle his voice doesn’t crack when he finally works up the courage to speak again because it always happens in situations where he can’t afford to sound like an early pubescent 12-year-old. You glance up from your book, smile hidden behind the tattered pages, and you nod at his question. He assumes that’s why you’re there in the first place, also in search of a late-night snack. You settled for his choice of salted popcorn. You don’t appear bothered enough to look further. Perhaps the popcorn is what you wanted all along, and he stole the last bag from under your nose.

He turns back around and divides the bowl into two smaller bowls, one of which he slides across the table to you. You pick it up with two of your toes, skillfully lifting it through the air with nothing but the strength of your foot, before placing it in your lap. He hears you munching contently seconds later, attention once more returned to your book, and fights the urge to smile at your monkey-like manner of grabbing the bowl.

He thinks of sitting down at the table beside you but changes his mind before he can make a real fool of himself. Besides, you haven’t said anything to indicate you might enjoy his company, and to top it off, you’re reading, and you still look very much into your book. Bucky’s already interrupted you once, not that he regrets it. You’re fascinating to him.

The urge to ruffle your hair is so strong it takes all his strength to keep his arm to his side when he passes you by. You don’t look back when he disappears into the hallway, door slamming shut with the kick of his foot when he enters his bedroom seconds later.

Yeah, he doesn’t know you at all.

tags:

@justine-en

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fic #winter soldier imagin #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avenger x reader #avenger fic #sebastian stan #marvel fic #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #jammywrites

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years ago

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Is It Really THAT Bad?

I’m going to warn you all now. This one is going to get a bit angry at the end. Normally I would try and remain as professional as possible, but in this case, I don’t feel like I would be able to.

Batman & Robin is a film that has lived in infamy since its release in 1997. Upon release, it was critically reviled, and this hatred of the film continued long into the modern day, where it frequently tops “worst films of all time lists” to the point where it actually is listed on the Wikipedia page for “List of films considered the worst.” It was nominated for at least 11 Razzies but only won a single one, and it went on to be a frequent punching bag on the {REDACTED] Critic’s web show, where he would get irrationally angry at the mere mention of the Bat Credit Card. In contemporary reviews, Mick LaSalle of The San Francisco Chronicle stated “"George Clooney is the big zero of the film, and should go down in history as the George Lazenby of the series,” which is less of a criticism and more of a compliment, if I’m being totally honest.

Most of the stars would take a negative stance towards it as well, with legend stating that if you tell George Clooney that you saw the film in theaters, he will refund you for your ticket out of his own pocket. Chris O’Donnell likewise is not particularly fond of the film, stating "It just felt like everything got a little soft the second time. On Batman Forever, I felt like I was making a movie. The second time, I felt like I was making a kid's toy commercial." And, perhaps most depressingly, Joel Schumacher himself was apparently very apologetic for the film, though this may or may not have come about because of years and years of vitriol being directed at him for making this film.

In the wake of Mr. Schumacher’s passing, I decided to re-watch the film, as I am famously rather fond of it, and I am going to tell you all why the answer to the question “Is it really THAT bad?” is a loud, resounding, NO.

THE GOOD

There’s honestly quite a lot to like here, more than you might think. I think first and foremost what you need to understand going in is that this is a silly, cartoonish take on the Burton style, blending the silliness and camp of the West series with the drama and aesthetics of the Burton films, all while adding some over-the-top, colorful flair. John Glover, who appears in the film as a cartoonish mad scientist, even has gone on record as saying "Joel would sit on a crane with a megaphone and yell before each take, 'Remember, everyone, this is a cartoon'. It was hard to act because that kind of set the tone for the film”… the last sentence makes the statement very baffling, but at least even the actors were aware of what they were doing. If this doesn’t sound appealing, well, the opening is sure to warn you off, as it is a suiting up montage with various shots of the firm butts, large codpieces, and stiff batnipples of the Dynamic Duo. The movie is very upfront about what you’re in for.

On the subject of the infamous batnipples, Schumacher stated "I had no idea that putting nipples on the Batsuit and Robin suit were going to spark international headlines. The bodies of the suits come from Ancient Greek statues, which display perfect bodies. They are anatomically correct." It seems a very odd choice, but it’s pretty clear that he meant it as an amusing little design choice and nothing more. Of course, this hasn’t stopped everyone and their mother from spewing homophobic comments about how he was purposefully making the film gayer, even from star George Clooney, who has said that he played Batman as a gay man and was told by Schumacher Batman is gay. It’s so disgusting that people did and continue to do this, because honestly, the costumes are fine, and even if they are meant to be fanservice… so what? O’Donell and Clooney’s asses look nice, as does Alicia Silverstone’s when she dons a suit. The fact hers is just as form-fitting as the other two really shows that the whole idea Schumacher did it because he was gay is ridiculous; the man was very egalitarian about the fanservice in the movie.

Whatever else Clooney says, he does a pretty great job as Batman and Bruce Wayne. His speech at the end of the film where he talks to Mr. Freeze and reminds him that he is a good man and offers to help him is honestly one of the few moments in any Batman film where Batman actually feels like the one from the animated series, a man who fights crime but also wants to help the people he’s trying to stop. Clooney just has a very natural charisma that lends himself to playing a hero, and while there are a few awkward moments in the performance, he captures the fun and charm a more lighthearted Batman should. Michael Gough’s last turn as Alfred is also surprisingly poignant, and a lot of mileage is gotten out of his genuinely tearjerking subplot.

Of course, the very best part of the film is the villains. Uma Thurman is clearly having a ball as Poison Ivy, and she gets to have a ludicrous amount of costumes as well as numerous moments of fanservice. She also has the power to turn every man around her into a simp, which is absolutely amazing and leads to quite a few scenes of Batman and Robin slapping each other over her. But f course, there’s really no doubt that the best part of the film is Mr. Freeze. He’s a combination of the sillier Mr. Freeze from the West days and the more modern take of the character most are familiar with, the tragic anti-villain who wants to save his wife; such a character would take a talented man capable of comedy and drama in equal measure. And who better than Arnold Schwarzenegger? Joel Schumacher wanted a man who looked like he was chiseled from a glacier, and Arnold certainly fits that description. He spends the movie juggling some of the most corny puns you can imagine and a lot of truly powerful, understated drama, and it really does work. You honestly get the sense that Arnold really gets Mr. Freeze and what makes him a great character. Also, that suit he has is amazing.

As a final note: the Bat Credit Card is absolutely not stupid. Linkara has defended it in the past, giving reasons why and how it could actually work, but really, all that needs to be said is… is this any more ridiculous than Shark Repellent Bat Spray?

THE BAD

So don’t get the wrong idea here; this film is far from perfect. As is the case with any comedy, the humor can be hit or miss; not all of the puns land, not all of the jokes are great. You’re never going to get a perfect comedy no matter how hard you try, and this is no exception.

As for performances, I think O’Donnell’s Robin and Silverstone’s Batgirl are a bit wonky. O'Donnell has long been a source of derision for his whining, and while I think the hate is a bit overblown, he does spend a ludicrous amount of time in this film being snippy, miserable, and arrogant. I think he actually fights with Batman more than any of the villains! Still, his performance isn’t horrible, he just gets a bit too whiny at a few points.

Silverstone is a bit of a bigger problem, but she’s not quite as bad as even I remembered. She’s pretty much Batgirl in name only, since she’s related to Alfred in this, but she’s mostly okay. The issue really is that her arc in the film is relatively bland and feels a bit shoehorned, which comes to a head where she fights Poison Ivy in a designated catfight, obviously because they didn’t want Batman to punch a woman in the face I guess. There’s just one issue with that:

On the subject of Ivy, while she definitely does have plant powers here, they’re strangely underplayed. She rarely uses them even when it would probably be beneficial, instead relying on Bane to do most of the fighting for her. Ah, Bane… Bane is one of the few things about this film I can’t really muster up any sort of defense for. While his creation scene is rather cool, it doesn’t lead to much of interest, as this version of Bane is pretty much a mindless supersoldier lackey who serves Poison Ivy. Now, this was still relatively early in Bane’s existence, as he had only debuted in 1993 and was really most famous for his signature “breaking the Bat” move, but it still is baffling why, with that famous thing fresh in everyone’s minds, that they would just choose to go and basically make Bane into Evil Diet Captain America. Surely they could have either saved him for a sequel or utilized him in a way more befitting of the character? I think this Bane is kind of responsible for the negative perception of Bane as this big, dumb bruiser, something that works like The Dark Knight Rises and Arkham Origins have thankfully gone a long way to rectifying. Bane is at his best when he’s a cunning genius bruiser; here, he’s nothing but a glorified prop.

Is It Really THAT Bad?

The answer is no. No it isn’t. AT ALL.

I’ve always felt this film came out at the wrong time. It was towards the end of the 90s, during the Dark Age of Comics when everything was dark, gritty, and edgy. The world didn’t want a movie like this back then; they wanted stuff like Blade, who would come in shortly after this film and show us how to make that aesthetic work. I guess in terms of Batman they wanted something more like Dawn of Justice, which really speaks volumes to how awful the 90s were for superheroes.

Look, I’m not trying to convince anyone this is the greatest Batman film ever. Even I don’t think that; Batman Returns, The Dark Knight, and Under the Red Hood are all much better films. But is this really the worst Batman film now that we have the deeply misogynistic and disgusting The Killing Joke and the relentlessly bleak and unpleasant Batman v Superman? Hell, it’s not even worse than Batman Forever! At least the Batman in this film has some kind of emotional range beyond “plank of wood!” And even calling it the worst sequel ever is just… so baffling. Again, this is definitely better than Batman Forever, lack of Jim Carrey notwithstanding. And can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that this is worse than any of the Terminator sequels after the second film? Worse than Iron Man 2 or Thor: The Dark World? The almost half dozen Alvin and the Chipmunk sequels? This is only the worst sequel or even a bad sequel if it is the only sequel you’ve ever seen in your life.

A lot of the hate for it from back in the day carries a strong undercurrent of homophobia. Much like the infamous backlash against disco, it’s seriously uncomfortable, and it definitely is cruel how accusatory people were towards Schumacher’s intentions for the suits of the heroes in the film. The fact that even the two main stars have gotten in on it is a bit disgusting, though O’Donnell questioning why there needed to be a codpiece is certainly less offensive than George Clooney saying he played Batman as a gay man for… whatever reason. Was he implying that Batman being gay made the movie worse? I’m not sure what he’s on about there. Even The New Batman Adventures made a cruel dig at the film; notice the sign and the effeminate-looking boy. You could only get homophobia this good in the 90s!

The hatred of this film is absolutely overblown. It’s so ridiculous. #70 on the bottom rated movies of IMDB? #1 on the 50 worst films of all time list from Empire? Doug Walker’s personal punching bag whenever he needs to talk about a bad sequel, to the point where he literally said no one wanted a comedic take on Batman in his worst sequels video? Come the fuck on.

Joel Schumacher may or may not have ended up hating this film, but he certainly was made to feel like shit for making it… and it is honest to god not that bad! But he was just absolutely eviscerated, to the point where this was a fucking headline when he died:

Literally fuck all of these people. Fuck io9 for their insensitive headline. Fuck Empire for rating this as the worst film ever. Fuck Doug Walker for his constant bashing and his shitty old “chimp out over the Bat Credit Card” gag. Double fuck Mick LaSalle for shitting on George Clooney’s performance while also trying to say George Lazenby’s Bond was bad. In fact, fuck George Clooney for his weird idea that playing Batman as gay is a bad thing (sorry George, but I can’t defend this). Fuck the Razzies. Yes, it was nominated, but I just feel it’s always a good time to say “Fuck the Razzies.”

I will never say you have to love or even like this film, but the sheer amount of vitriol and hatred for it is absolutely beyond me. At worst, this film is just a bit too goofy, and at best, it is a fun tribute to the campy days when Batman just couldn’t get rid of a bomb. I didn’t take off my score this time. I’m proud to say I gave this an 8/10, personally. If I’m being honest, a 6.6 – 6.9 is more appropriate, because it does have quite a few issues, but god, this film is not bad at all. It’s silly, goofy, campy, and fun… but bad? Not by any stretch of my imagination. And fuck the critics for convincing an entire generation that this is Batman at his worst, when we have Batman fucking slaughtering his ways through criminals and fucking Barbara Gordon on rooftops these days. I will always take stupid ice puns over misery, murder and creepy intergenerational sex, thank you very much.

youtube

I hope you can rest easy, Mr. Schumacher. Maybe you didn’t love your film in the end but, wherever you are, I hope you know I loved it.

#Is it really that bad?#IIRTB #Review #movie review #batman & robin #joel schumacher #George Clooney #Batman #Uma Thurman #arnold schwarzenegger #Poison Ivy #Mr. Freeze #superhero movie

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need-a-fugue · 4 years ago

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We Grow Together (11)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

Warning(s): angst, emotional and mental turmoil… the good stuff

Chapter Summary: Ah, the aftermath... Bucky has to face what he’s done, no matter how painful it might be.

He never does show up at Natasha’s. Not later that day. Not that evening. Not the next morning. By the second afternoon of being held prisoner in Nat’s apartment, Tessa feels like she’s going to explode. Which may be, in part, why she reacted the way she did when Tony stopped by – smashing the creepy British tablet to pieces in front of him. Though that was largely about him uttering the words, “He’s right to stay away,” when she lamented still not having heard from James.

“I’m not saying Tony was right to say that to you,” Natasha states calmly as Tessa continues to angrily pace a rut into the floor in front of her. “I’m just saying that he feels that way because he cares about you.”

She turns on her heel and stares the redhead down, her glare so intense that even the Black Widow is a bit intimidated. But before she can say a word, chide her friend for taking Tony’s side, Clint chimes in from across the room. “I don’t think he was wrong at all, actually,” he says as he nonchalantly tosses some more popcorn into his mouth. “He might’ve said it in an asshole way, because, you know… Tony. But he’s right.”

Natasha raises her eyebrows at her friend, a silent what the hell are you doing? look that she’s surely given him countless times before.

“Come again,” Tessa says with a forced sort of composure as she stands still and places her hands on her hips.

Clint cringes involuntarily at the sound of her worn voice. When he arrived about an hour ago, eager to settle in and watch some movies to “take Tessa’s mind off of things,” as Nat had put it, it took everything in his power to keep from losing his shit.

Natasha had called him that morning to tell him what happened the day before. She’d said that between Steve hovering, Bruce going into full-on doctor mode, and Tony being… Tony, Tessa could use another friend. She’d also told him that, “She looks a little rough, so be nice.” He had expected her to be a bit worse for the wear. Being choked by a super soldier surely would leave a mark. But Nat had been so casual when she said, “She’s fine. Don’t worry,” that he was not at all prepared for what he saw.

He had not expected to see her with burst vessels so bad that almost the entire white of her right eye and a good portion of the left would be blood red. And while he assumed there’d be a nice bruise, he did not expect to see her neck almost completely covered in dark blues, purples, and greens. The raised welts that rose from the colorful backdrop being the size and shape of fingers. And he certainly had not expected to hear that gravelly, rasping sound come from her mouth, nor to see the pained look on her face every time she swallowed or choked out a few words.

He sets down the bowl of popcorn and approaches Tessa, places his hands on her upper arms, and looks her directly in the eye as he says, “He almost killed you.” She jerks herself away and takes a large single step back. He throws up his hands in a gesture of appeasement as he continues. “I’m not saying he meant to do it. But he did it. That’s a lot to deal with, Doc. Hurting someone you love, even if you didn’t mean to, especially if you didn’t mean to and never would have in your right mind… it’s a lot.”

“He happens to be speaking from experience,” Natasha pipes up from her perch on the couch.

“That’s right,” Clint nods, dropping his hands and taking a step closer to Tessa. When she doesn’t make a move to back away, he lifts one hand to her shoulder and ducks his head a bit to capture her downcast gaze. “After Loki’s whole mind fuck, it took me a while, a long while, to come to grips with the fact that I wasn’t to blame for the things that I did. Not entirely, anyway.”

“Not at all,” Natasha corrects from behind.

“But he’s already doing that,” Tessa whines. “That’s what he’s been dealing with since he got here. Learning not to blame himself for what Hydra made him do.”

“Good. That’s good. Then he’ll have a head start on making it through this too.”

Natasha gets up and moves over to the pair. “Steve said that he had a really long therapy session yesterday. So he’s trying to figure things out.”

“But you gotta let it happen at his pace,” Clint says, giving her shoulder a squeeze. When an over-the-top pout comes across her face, he asks her simply, “Do you love him?” She folds her arms across her middle, hugging herself tightly, tightening her grip before nodding. A few fresh tears fall from her eyes. “Then let him take the time he needs.”

000

She’s finally released from observation – house arrest, as she and Nat had been calling it – later that evening. Natasha sticks around for a bit after taking her back to her apartment, mostly because she just looks so damn lonely and pathetic. But it’s only a matter of time before Tessa tells her to stop the pity hang and get the hell out. She has to get to bed anyway, there’s a lot to do tomorrow to make up for all of the work that she missed. Nat just rolls her eyes, reminds her that she really only missed one day of work (which isn’t entirely true since she typically works on the weekends too). Plus, Tony already told her to take off this coming week, though he must’ve known that she’d never actually do it.

She does manage to stay clear of the lab the next day, but that’s only because Tony had put it on lockdown to prevent her from entering. But she’s still able to put in a full day in her office, compiling reports and finalizing plans for the new med center at the compound.

The compound… she pulls up the plans for her new apartment – their new apartment – and looks them over once more before signing off on them. James had requested a bigger kitchen. She had asked for a balcony coming off the living room. Tony put a large soaking tub in the hall bath, all so he make a joke about a rusty arm.

They were set to move in at the end of the month. If they were still planning on moving together, that is.

“Fuuuuck,” she moans , dropping her head to the desk with a loud thunk. She lays there for several minutes, enjoying the feel of the smooth, cool wood on her forehead. She can feel a migraine beginning to bloom around her eyes.

All at once, she notices a rather dramatic shift in the energy of the room. She feels the air thrum with a mixture of sorrow and regret, and fear. Amid the terrible pangs of bad energy, she feels him, the signature that is just pure James. Sensing all of it mixed up together is enough to very nearly break her heart. “I can feel you brooding,” she mumbles into the desktop.

She hears him shuffle forward, assumes he was probably looming in the doorway before. “You’re not supposed to be working,” he says softly, his voice sounding so painfully hesitant.

She slowly lifts her head from the desk and watches as his face contorts with an odd mix of shame and rage when he sees her eyes. She threw on a big woolen scarf this morning before heading out, all too aware of how her neck looked. Thankfully, it was 40 degrees outside and she was known for being coldblooded, so no one thought it odd to see her wearing it throughout the day. But she had removed her giant sunglasses once she closed herself in her office.

Taking in the sad, guilty look on his face, she feels a sudden and inexplicable wave of anger roll over her. “Where have you been?” she asks him through gritted teeth.

Again, his face shifts, eyes closing tightly as though he simply can’t bear to look at her. Lips closed in a firm, set line and nostrils flaring as he tries to keep himself together. Hearing her angry, tired, broken rasp is almost too much for him, and all at once he realizes that this was a bad idea. “I’m sorry,” he whispers before turning to head back out the door.

She jumps up from her desk, the crash of her chair against the full boxes lining the wall of her office stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t you dare leave,” she nearly shouts at him. She’s not entirely sure where the anger is coming from – she may have been feeling it all along – but it’s certainly bubbling to the surface now. “Where were you?” She asks again, barely controlled rage lacing the carefully uttered words.

He doesn’t turn to face her when he says again, “I’m sorry,” this time louder.

“Stop saying that,” she tells him firmly. “Where were you?”

He takes a deep breath. “I just needed… I was at Steve’s,” he says finally.

“Well I was in a hospital bed on the med floor,” she says, voice full of hostility. He winces as she speaks. “I was hurt.”

His shoulders drop even lower, eyes pointed down, concealed by the dark hair draped over his face. “I know.”

She shakes her head and moves to wipe a few stray tears that had only just begun to fall from her eyes. “I needed you,” she says plainly, as though that should be more than enough to make him see. “I was hurt. And scared. And I needed you. And you weren’t there.”

He turns then, not quite believing what he’s hearing. “You were hurt and scared because I hurt and scared you,” he says, a hint of anger now in his voice too.

“You didn’t mean to –”

“That’s not the point!”

“Yes it is!” Her words are barely audible, her voice giving out and cracking as she tries to shout. When she opens her mouth again, the words come out as a mere whisper. “I needed you.”

They stand in silence for what seems like an eternity, neither looking at the other. Some chatter can be heard from down the hall, so Tessa walks over, pressing herself against Bucky as she leans past him to shut the door. Before she can get back to her desk, he makes a move to grasp her hand. Realizing at the last moment that it’s his metal hand trying to take hold of her, he lets her fingers drop. “I’m sorry,” he breathes out into the small space between them.

She looks down and sees him open and close the metal fist repeatedly. “I don’t want you to be sorry,” she tells him. “I just want you to be with me.”

His lets out a shuddering breath when he says, “I don’t know if I can.”

She reaches down and takes hold of his hand, peels the metal fingers apart so it’s no longer tightly fisted. He makes a move to pull away when she brings the hand up to her face, but relents when she grasps his wrist with her other hand as well. “You can,” she says before kissing his open palm.

He watches her closely, watches as she kisses each one of his metal fingertips, slowly, softly. He can feel the warmth of her hands on his wrist, the slight pressure of her lips on his fingers. “Stop it,” he says finally, harshly tugging his hand from her grasp.

She looks up and they meet eyes for the first time in what feels like forever. He’s never seen eyes so red. With blood pooled into the whites like that, she looks like some sort of B-movie zombie. His gaze travels over her face and he takes note of the other sparsely spaced red marks that pepper her skin, more tiny broken vessels. He brings his right hand up to touch one near her temple, the mark thin and windy, tracing the line of the capillary.

Then he lets his hand drift down to her cheek, her chin, to the very top of the woolen scarf. His fingertips work their way under the fabric and begin to tug it down. She closes her eyes and reclines her head back so that he can better see the bruising beneath. “I could’ve killed you,” he nearly sobs.

She reaches up and removes his hand, replaces the scarf and says simply, “But you didn’t.”

When she looks up at him, he’s shaking his head slowly, tears seeping from his tightly closed eyes. In a thick voice he asks her the one question that’s been playing over and over and over again in his mind. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

She’s momentarily stunned, and he knows it. Hearing her breath catch, he opens his eyes and looks down at her. Her mouth is agape, ticking at the corners as though preparing to form words, but never quite getting there. She looks confused, lost even, and he has to fight the urge to wrap his arms so tight around her. “I…” she finally manages, but nothing more comes out.

“I’m sorry,” he issues out hurriedly. “I’m not… I’d never… blame you.” He shakes his again, hating that he can’t do anything right, can’t even apologize. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” she ekes out, taking a step back, then another. She backs into her desk and leans onto it, both hands gripping the top firmly. “No, you’re right. I should’ve –”

“I’m not saying that,” he interrupts quickly. “I’m not saying that you should have done anything. This was my fault.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “It was a night terror, James. Would you blame yourself like this if you had a seizure and accidently hit me?”

He gives her a confused look. “It’s not… that’s not the same thing.”

“You had a physiological reaction to an emotional stressor. Your body reacted to a stimuli without the knowledge or permission of your conscious mind. It was not your fault.” She speaks with such determination, such authority, that he almost believes her. They gaze at each other for only a moment before she drops her head and stares down at the floor in front of her “And I should have stopped you,” she says quietly.

“Tessa,” he tries, but she’s quick to interrupt.

“I told you that you were safe with me, that you couldn’t hurt me. And I could’ve stopped you. It would’ve been so easy…” She looks back up, meets his eyes and gives him a small, sad smile. “I froze,” she says with a shrug. Tears glisten in her eyes and she sniffles as she nods her head. “I froze, and I’m sorry.”

He wants to tell her again that it isn’t her fault. He wants to tell her that everyone freezes up sometimes. He wants to tell her, more than anything else, that he loves her. But he can’t find the words to actually say any of these things. Instead, he moves forward in two long strides and sweeps his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck, tilts her head up as he drops his lips down onto hers. It’s only a breath of a moment before she releases her hold on the desk and wraps her arms around his middle, pulling him in closer.

She slips away from the kiss and nuzzles into his neck, whispers to him as hot tears fall to his shoulder, “I didn’t want to feel like this. I didn’t want to… need anyone like this. But I do. I need you.”

He inhales the sweet scent of her shampoo as he twines his fingers deeper into her thick hair. “I need you too,” he tells her, slowly bringing his metal arm up and wrapping it loosely around her hips.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes au #marvel fanfic #bucky imagine #marvelau #avengers fanfiction #avengersau #Supernova

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notyetneedcoffee · 5 years ago

Text

Soul Seer, Pt. 5

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Not for this chapter

Author’s Note: Takes place right after Avengers 1, with time travel elements and hints of Infinity Wars. Does NOT follow cannon after Avengers.

* * *

Part 5

The eight heavily armed guards arrived to escort you and Loki to meet with everyone. You were so thankful for Loki’s magic. Somehow instead of looking like you’d spent days sleeping in your clothes without a shower, your hair fell just right and your clothes look like they were fresh from the cleaners. He’d only grinned at your surprised expression upon seeing your reflection.

“Come, little one.” Loki held out a hand for you to go first. “Let us see what Odin has planned.”

The contingent of guards led you both to a large reception room. You tried to protect yourself from the onslaught of aggressive and negative emotions, but you still felt exposed and raw. Tony, Thor and Steve Rogers met you both at the door. They felt like a balm, steady and calm.

The rest of the room was as volatile as the guards. Behind them the three from the other day were in a tight knot at one end of the table. Nick Fury and a couple others in black suits took up a position at the opposite end. Fury buzzed with conflicted tension, curiosity and an odd sense of need.

Standing near the window, a woman in a gold gown and elaborate headdress looked out the window at the city beyond. She shown as bright a Thor.

“We going to have any trouble here?” Tony asked quietly at Loki’s shoulder.

Loki stared at the woman intensely. “I do not believe so.”

“Good.” Rogers nodded. His attention turned to you. “How are you holding up?”

“Better.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Let’s get on with this.” Fury growled.

“Indeed.” Thor stepped into the middle of the room. “The Allfather has sent me to execute his orders in regards to the punishment of Loki.”

“This better be good.” Fury muttered. It took every bit of your will power to keep from glaring at him.

Thor ignored him. His focus remained on his brother.

“Loki.” The two faced one another. “Odin, King of Asgard, has sentenced you Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard, to serve the people of Midgard in their recovery from the damage done by your treachery and their defense against the powers by which your actions have caused them to become a target for the next standard Midgardian century or until the Allfather rescinds his order. Your compliance will be assured by Oath.”

“Whoa, wait.” Fury held up his hands. “He’s just going to pinky swear and we’re just supposed to be okay with it.”

“I am an Oath Sayer.” The strange woman spoke for the first time. “An Oath made to me, even by a God must be kept. They cannot fight the compulsion.”

“A promise made to an Oath Sayer must be kept. Loki could not break it. The binding is tied to the source of our magic.” Thor assured the group.

“So, a hundred years good behavior?” Tony’s brow went up. “You up for that Reindeer Games?”

“It seems I have little choice.” Loki turned to Thor. “Is the vow written or am I to state it with your approval?”

“It is not written.” Thor shook his head.

“Very well.” Loki stepped up to the woman, studying the calmness in her beautiful aged face. He knew her. She gave him lessons once as a child. Staring back passively, she waited. Loki gathered his thoughts before extending both of his hands, palms up. She placed her hand in his.

“I, Loki of Asgard, do swear to comply with orders of Odin to assist with the recovery from the damage done by my treachery and to help in the defense against those who, by my actions, may wish to harm Midgard for the next Midgardian century or until Odin rescinds his orders. I will submit to the orders of the ones who hands dealt me defeat without violence or deceit.” He looked at Thor.

Thor’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. Looking at Stark, he got Tony’s agreement. They both looked at Fury who shrugged. Thor squared his shoulders. “Accepted.”

“Loki of Asgard.” The woman spoke, a golden glow flowing from her heart toward him. “This Oath is made freely of will, sound of mind, and bound by the power of Yggdrasil.” The gold flowed into Loki and settled into his chest. “It is done.”

“Swell.” Tony clapped his hands together. “There’s lots to do. Let’s get to work then.”

“Not so fast.” Fury held out a hand. “I want a detailed plan of what he’s getting access to, and everything you plan on having him work on. Then there’s the little issue of Ms. Y/L/N. We’ll be taking her down to be debriefed immediately. I’m done being stonewalled.”

“Y/N will be remaining with me.” Loki stated plainly.

“You don’t have a say. You take orders from us, or did you forget that oath already?” Fury tossed back.

“She stays with me.” Loki leveled a harsh stare at the director. “This is not negotiable.”

You watched the tense exchange from just behind Loki, where you’d stopped when you’d come in. Rogers stood to your left and six of the eight guards remained behind you. Fury’s voice hardened even more and Steve tensed. The emotions in the room went from cautious to spikes of aggression and rage.

“We’ll see about that.” Fury growled out.

You caught a flash of intent from behind you. An instinct over took your body, moving without thought. You captured the man’s three fingers in your fist and spun his arm around, knock him off balance with a swift kick and drove him to his knees. You pulled free the service knife at his waist as he went down and held it under his jaw. It happened in just a second. Everyone in the room froze. Then all the guns in the room came up.

Even holding the guard in front of you, your eyes turned to Loki, huge and shocked. You didn’t know how to do that. Loki did.

Loki spread his hands out, green magic spreading like heavy fog. His voice dropped, full of menace. “Don’t. Guns will do you no good.”

The soldier nearest him fired. It hit Loki in the shoulder and bounced off as if it were nothing. Loki clutched the man by the throat and lifted him off the ground. You stood still, barely breathing. Everyone else shouted.

“Put him down!” Fury ordered. He turned his gun to Thor. “You said he had to obey.”

“Wait! Wait!” Tony shouted. “Chill the fuck out. Loki, put him on his feet at least.” Loki just glared at him. “Come on, man.”

“Loki.” Your quiet voice reached him. He lowered the man to his feet but did not let go.

“Who’s hand dealt me defeat.” Tony repeated, wheels turning. He shoved both his hands into his pockets with a grin. He turned bodily to Banner and gave him a huge smile.

“What?” Bruce seemed to catch the same idea. “No...”

“Yeah.” Tony smiled.

“Loki, let him go.” Bruce said. Loki’s hand released immediate. Tony laughed out loud. Over Tony’s hysterics Bruce turned to you. “Let him up. You’re not going anywhere.”

“What the fuck?” Fury barked.

“The hand that dealt defeat.” Bruce explained. “During the battle. The only one of us that actually put Loki down was...”

“The Hulk.” Loki finished. “As he and Banner are one in the same, I shall comply only to him.”

“That was not the agreement.” Fury argued.

“You had no part in an agreement.” Thor corrected. “Loki’s fate is subject to Odin’s discretion. The Oath is made. There is nothing else to be done. He will work with Doctor Banner.”

“As for Ms. Y/L/N, she’s a private citizen and my employee.” Tony put a hand on your shoulder. “She gets the full protection that comes with that. She’s not an asset.”

Fury holstered his gun, frowning. “So, we’re back to that?”

“Hey, we’re all on the same team here.” Steve interjected. “We’re willing to work together, but threatening each other isn’t going to get us anywhere. Tony is right. There’s a lot of work to be done. I suggest we get to it.”

For the next few hours you sat beside Loki as he helped Fury and the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents identify the Chitauri technology and how to handle the most dangerous items. Virtual arsenals of alien weapons now littered New York. Loki emphasized the importance of collecting them and keeping them out of the hands of the populace.

As the group took a break, you slipped closer to Loki as he leaned against the back wall to watch everyone else in the room. You didn’t see him move, but you felt his hand drift down your spine and up again. You arched a brow and he grinned. It eased some of the tension in your chest. Magic was so cool.

“You look tired.”

Nodding, you agreed. “There’s just a lot of very intense and negative emotions flying around. My defenses aren’t back to normal yet.”

“I will speak with Stark.”

You watched the guard you’d held at knife point, barely hearing him. So much ran through your mind. Things which never warranted notice before now stood out in stark relief. With a look, you knew how big of a threat each person posed, what weapons they had on their person, and even what their weakness were.

“My pet.” Loki’s voice tickled your ear. “What vexes you?”

“Noticing things I never noticed before.” You sighed. “Knowing what to look for truly changes one’s perspective.”

“Indeed.” He locked eyes with Fury, a wicked smile touching his lips as he tenderly brushed your hair back from your shoulder. Loki touched his lips to your temple. “Sit, my pet, I will see about retiring.”

“You’re taunting him.”

“So?” He grinned and walked off towards Tony.

You dropped into the nearest chair, trying to ignore the scrutiny of the others in the room. The pounding in your head made your eyes ache and the muscles in your neck lock. Arching your back and twisting in your seat, you stretched with eyes half closed.

Stepping up beside you, the steady blue aura told you who it was before actually seeing him. “Captain.”

“Y/N.” He spoke quietly. “You doing okay?”

“Hurting. The negativity in here is so strong everyone can feel it. My senses are so raw it’s like scratching sunburned skin.” You sighed. “But it could be worse.”

“You are really okay with Loki?” Steve watched the Asgardian talk to Stark.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” You laughed at yourself. “I don’t know how to explain it. He’s so much more than anyone suspects, more than he wants anyone to know, more than I will ever tell another soul. But I know, and he accepts that I know. It can’t be any more okay than that.”

Steve studied you for a moment. He calmed, found some sort of resolution, you saw it. “I suppose if you can look into someone’s mind, and they into yours, and find acceptance... you’re right... there’s nothing more okay than that.” He squeezed your shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

You watched him wonder over to Tony and Loki. Closing your eyes, you tried to block everyone out for a while by focusing on your breathing. Some time passed before you felt Loki’s cool hand on the back of your neck. “Come, my pet. We are done for the evening.”

You stood, realizing that the only people remaining in the room were Stark and Rogers. They both raised a hand at you as you followed Loki from the room. “No guards?”

“No guards.”

“Are we still under surveillance?” You asked.

“No more than anyone else under the watchful eye of Stark’s AI.” Loki allowed you to enter the lift first. He pressed the button for 79th floor.

“Where are we going?”

“My new quarters.” He answered with a wide grin.

You laughed. “What? Tony wouldn’t give up the penthouse.”

He laughed as well. “I wouldn’t want it. The windows are broken.”

TAGS

@rainbowkisses31 / @dsakita / @geeksareunique / @lbouvet / @buckybarneshairpullingkink / @theneuropsychwriter / @vanillabunn21 / @sammghgecko / @beautifullungs / @badassbaker / @the-omni-princess / @sebbysstangirl / @jesseswartzwelder / @unadulteratedwizardlove / @kneel-before-queen-loki / @thorfanficwriter / @dawnlaufeyson / @theladybiers / @jillilama-blog / @vodka-and-some-sass / @archy3001 / @asgardianthot / @a--1--1--3 / @tahiri-veyla / @rinthehufflepuff /

#loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fic

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commander-rahrah · 5 years ago

Text

RESIDENCY (AN OPEN HEART FIC): PART SEVENTEEN

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan

Masterlist: Click Here

Chapter Rating: T (Swearing)

Word Count: 3600+

Description: Ethan comes back to Boston after hearing about Jordynne’s suspension and upcoming hearing. Jordynne is upfront about her feelings to someone. Bryce finally says what he has been thinking for a while now.

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details.

Author’s Note: Typing up 3600+ fanfiction on your iPhone is not very fun. If my phone calls Bryce “Bruce” one more time I may rage. I have had scenes from this chapter stuck in my head FOREVER. I’m so glad to finally post this chapter because it also means I am getting closer to the 30 diamond scene with Ethan!!!!!!!

Also, this fic is now at over 75K words total! Which is super crazy insane.

As always any and all likes, reblogs and comments are VERY appreciated. If you would like to tagged for future updates, please reply or send me a DM to be added to the tag list. <3

PS: Speaking of the tag list, can you tell me if your tag works?! :)I’ve been having so many issues with it, and it drives me crazy. I have gone through it and edited -- realizing there was some ppl I never added (facepalm), new handles, etc. If you ever want to be removed please just let me know!

Taglist: @drakewalkerfantasy @owleyes374 @lahelable @mayar-mahdy @paisleylovergirl @nicquix @emilymay100 @octobereighth @llamasgrl @timmagicktoad @lilyofchoices @msjpuddleduck @mfackenthal @paulfwesley @ccolz88-blog @jooous @themingdynasty @perriewinklenerdie@mindlessdreaminxo @jens-diamondchoices @omgjasminesimone @indiacater @chasingrobbie @writingsbymissy @binny1985

Previous Updates: Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part ElevenPart Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen

Song Inspiration: Ghostin’ - Ariana Grande

I know you hear me when I cry I try to hold it in the night While you're sleepin' next to me But it's your arms that I need this time

Look at the cards that we've been dealt If you were anybody else Probably wouldn't last a day Every tear's a rain parade from hell

Baby, you do it so well

You been so understanding, you been so good And I'm puttin' you through more than one ever should And I'm hating myself 'cause you don't want to Admit that it hurts you

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again Over him, mmh I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again 'Stead of ghostin' him

Previous Chapter: Part Sixteen

It was weird coming back to Edenbrook.

It looked different somehow.

Did it though? Maybe Ethan’s mind was just playing tricks on him. Guilting him for walking away from the place he had called his home for ten years.

It was still early — and especially after a night of triage — there wasn’t a lot of staff yet. The soft light of the sun rising was cast into the atrium, turning the white walls and floors orange.

Ethan ducked into the elevator quickly — avoiding any lingering stares or confused faces. He wasn’t sure if anyone would recognize him without his white coat and quaffed hair. Not many people had seen Dr. Ramsey is wrinkled trousers and threadbare sweaters. But this was an emergency.

He walked the familiar path to the chief’s office — hesitating at the door before finally pushing himself to knock.

He heard the familiar clicks of Harper’s heels before she opened the door. Her expression was stunned — blinking at the sight of him. Then it turned — her eyebrows furrowing and arms crossing over her chest. She spun on her heel — going back into the room, and leaned against the edge of her desk.

“So it just took dropping her name to get you back here, hey?” Her mouth was gritted into a hard line.

Ethan swallowed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “What?”

“Holland. You quit, leave us high and dry, dodge my calls, tell me to fuck off —,” Harper’s nostrils flared, “But one message about Dr. Holland being suspended and here you are.”

Ethan wasn’t sure what to say.

She sighed at his silence, “Well, it’s too late — she’s suspended and the preliminary ethics hearing is in a few hours. You can’t vouch for her anymore.”

“She’s a good doctor, Harper. You know that.” He stepped forward — his blue eyes big, pleading.

“She is. And it’s a shame that she probably won’t be a doctor anymore after this.”

His stomach tightened as she said that. He couldn’t imagine her not being a doctor — everything she had worked so hard for. It just couldn’t happen. He opened his mouth to speak, but she caught him off.

“You can’t do anything, Ethan. You don’t work here anymore — you don’t have a spot on the panel.” She shook her head, her silver hoops dangling off of her ears, “And there is no chance you’re testifying.”

He took his hands out of his pockets, putting them out to her, “If anybody in this place knows her character it’s me.”

“Exactly. You’re too close to this, Ethan...,” Her brown eyes betrayed her for a moment, “I know you have feelings for her.”

“I—“ Ethan blinked, his mind whirling. He did — he knew, Jordynne knew that. And apparently, Harper did too. How did she know?

She noticed the quizzical look on his face and furrow in his brow. “I’ve seen the way you look at her — I can recognize it anywhere. You used to look at me like that. Once upon a time.”

The pair stood in silence — remembering the time that they were together. Before their schedules and administration got in the way. Before bitterness and tension settled in. Before everything had changed.

“I don’t even know if something’s happened between you two — and I don’t want to. But if the council gets a whiff of it, Ethan — it’s over. She needs a fair, clean trial. And having the Attending she may or may not be romantically involved with testify for her will not help.” Harper stepped forward, grabbing onto the crook of his elbow, “I’m not just saying this as administration Ethan, I’m saying this as your friend. The best thing you can do for her, for both of you, is to stay out of this.”

He chewed on his lip — doing his best to keep his emotions at bay. He wanted to hold on — to fight. His heart wanted to so desperately. But his mind — it knew better. She didn’t need someone like him. A failure. The heartless robot.

“I won’t interfere,” Ethan finally croaked, looking down at his feet.

“Good.” She finally let go of his arm, pushing her hands back onto the desk. “So are you going to tell me why you quit?”

He closed his eyes — his throat closing up. What was he going to tell her? That he had secretly been treating a patient in the newly constructed wing behind her back? Oh, and that patient was Naveen — both of their long-time friend and mentor. And he had handed him his death sentence last week. “I can’t.”

“No, Ethan. You just won’t.” Harper let out an exasperated sigh, before moving around to the other side of her desk. “I have a hearing to prepare for, so if you could see yourself out.” She started shuffling through papers — not looking at him.

He stood there for a moment — and nothing came to mind. Pursing his lips, He turned on his heel and left her office — closing the door quietly behind him.

_______________________________________________________________________

Jordynne sat on the edge of her bed — the mattress sinking softly, the soft white duvet wrinkling. She let out a loud exhale — her face buried into her hands, arms propped up against her knees. She was still wearing her blouse and blazer — her attempt to look professional for her preliminary hearing.

She wasn’t sure if it had worked. The formal hearing was still called. Chief Emery announced her official suspension until then. Jordynne had to turn in her badge and watch as Zaid and Ines reassigned her cases to the other interns.

She needed to be confident — she knew that. Everything was on the line. But it’s what she had needed to do. Walking around the hospital, hiding what she had done was wrong. She had given Mrs. Martinez a chance — hope. And even though it hadn’t worked out the way they had wanted it, Jordynne knew that Teresa would not want her to regret it.

But she still couldn’t fight the aching inside her.

Falling back onto the mattress, her blonde hair fanned out behind her. She needed to focus on the hearing — this was her career, everything she had been working for. But she couldn’t help the gnawing in the back of her mind, the pain that felt like a knife slowly twisting in her stomach.

She didn’t want to leave Edenbrook. She definitely did not want to leave Boston. There were so many unanswered questions, so much more left to learn and explore and see. And the people.

Jordynne gulped guiltily. The people — that’s why she didn’t want to leave. Was it people? A certain person? Her mind was reeling.

A soft knock at her open bedroom door caused her to blink back to reality. Her eyebrows furrowed — she was home alone, all of her roommates where working shifts at the hospital. And Landry hadn’t been to the apartment in days. Thankfully.

The tiny form of Sienna poked her head around the door, her almond eyes soft. “Hey, how you holding up?”

Jordynne pushed herself up onto her elbows, looking at her roommate quizzically, “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“Yeah, I just came home for my lunch instead today.” She shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

“Sienna...”

Her friend chewed her lip, “I just wanted to make sure you were OK.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She played with her fingers, looking down at the worn floor of her bedroom.

“I know I don’t have to. But I wanted to.”

“Right,” Jordynne murmured. Another sigh escaped her lips as she fell back onto the mattress.

“Hey, everything will be okay. You’re gonna rock this trial.” Jordynne felt the mattress sink a little as her roommate sat on the edge of it.

“It’s not just the trial.” She croaked out, blinking away tears as she stared up at the ceiling.

Sienna’s eyebrows furrowed as she thought, “Is it Br—“

“It’s Ethan.” She blurted out, interrupting.

Sienna was quiet for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed even deeper. “Ramsey?”

“Yes.”

“Dr. Ramsey?” She questioned again.

She nodded.

“The Doctor Ethan Ramsey?” Her eyebrows raises high on her face, her neck strained as he looked at her friend.

“Sienna!” Jordynne reached behind her and grabbed onto a pillow. She hit her friend with it lightly.

“Sorry!” She put her hands up in defense, “It’s just just — Wow... Ethan Ramsey. And you mean... like...”

“Yeah.” Grabbing the pillow from the floor, Jordynne clutched it to her chest and she laid back down.

“Wow.” She repeated, “Did you...?”

“No! We — we’ve kissed.”

“When?!”

Jordynne’s green eyes focused on the ceiling again, her fingers nervously picking at the seams of the pillow, “Miami... At the conference. And again, the night we found out about Teresa. Right before he quit...”

Surprise washed over Sienna’s face, “Miami?! That was ages ago! You’re just telling me now?”

“I didn’t know what to make of it then.”

“And what do you make of it now?”

“I — I don’t know.” Jordynne let out a sigh, “But with everything going on right now with the trial, and suspension, and Landry... I have so many things going on right now, but the first thing I think about in the morning is him.”

Sienna settled into the bed a little deeper, crossing her legs and staring at her friend, “Does he know that?”

“We —,” She hesitated, “We’ve never really gotten the chance honestly.”

Sienna bit her lip, looking worried, “Does Bryce know?”

Jordynne nodded, “Mhmm.”

“And how did he take it?”

“Oh you know, like an absolute angel.” Tears welled up in her eyes, “Haven’t really decided anything — since we’re casual and uh, since Ethan and I are just — well, nothing really.”

“Wow,” Sienna repeated again.

“Yeah.”

“How good were those kisses?” A huge grin spread across her face, and she poked at her friend's side.

“Sienna!”

“What? I mean, it’s Dr. Dreamy Douche — only like half of Edenbrook staff have imagined kissing him.” She purses her lips, attempting to hide a blush, “Maybe including me.”

“Kissing him...,” Jordynne paused, thinking. “It felt right. And that probably sounds awful with hiding it, and Bryce, and it being so ‘complicated’,” She air-quoted the final word, “But it did.”

“Have you heard from him since he quit?”

She clutched the pillow to her chest a little tighter, “No.” She whispered. “I don’t know if I’m more afraid of never seeing him again or seeing him again, you know?”

“Oh, Jordy,” Sienna leaned over and grabbed onto her hand, clutching her fingers. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Coffees in hand, Bryce showed up as soon as his shift ended that night. He was greeted with shouts telling him the door was open — maneuvering into the apartment he saw the roommates spread throughout the living and dining room — picking at boxes of pizza. The familiar blonde was nowhere to be seen.

Closing the front door with his hip, Bryce walked in with his eyebrows raised, “Where’s Jordynne?” He asked.

Jackie nodded towards her closed bedroom door, before taking a large bite of pizza.

“She okay?” His eyebrows furrowed, pausing outside of the door.

He watched Sienna’s face fall before she quickly corrected it. “Yeah — yeah, she said the preliminary hearing went alright.”

Bryce studied her face for a moment, before nodding, “That’s good. I’ll— I’ll be back.” Still holding the paper cup in his hand, he used the back of his knuckles to knock quietly on her door, “Jordy? It’s me.”

He heard a soft “come in” from the other side of the door, and he slipped inside. It wasn’t entirely dark in her room — there was a soft orange glow from the lamp on her bedside table, illuminating her figure as she laid in the bed.

Jordynne’s blonde hair was pulled up into a bun, her glasses sitting crooked on her nose as she hugged a pillow. Most of her body was covered by her white duvet, but Bryce knew she had her threadbare Oregon State sweater on.

“Hey,” He whispered, shuffling into the room and next to the bed. He placed one of the cups down on the nightstand, “I brought you a coffee.”

The corners of her pink lips tugged up, “Only you would feed my addiction at 9 o’clock at night.”

“Hey, I know how to deal with gremlin Jordynne any time of day.” He took a swig of his own hot drink, before setting it down next to hers. He carefully sat down on the bed, sitting in the space between her stomach and legs as she laid on her side. “So how was the preliminary hearing?”

“It was alright. Declan was there.” She rolled her eyes, “But this is what I needed to do. Teresa would want this.”

Bryce nodded along with her, before giving her a sad smile. “So if it went well, why are you hiding away in here?”

“I’m not hiding in here.”

“There are three large pizzas outside that make me think differently. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you say no to extra cheesy, greasy pizza.” He smirked.

“I—“ Her green eyes flickered to the door, betraying her, “I’m just not in the mood for it.”

He placed his hand on her side, squeezing her waist, “Talk to me, Jordynne.”

“You don’t want to hear it.” The pillowcase rustled as she shook her head.

“If it’s making you upset, I do.” He squeezed her again, Maybe I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix this, Bryce.”

He shrugged, “Try me.”

“It’s Ethan, ok?” She said quietly.

“Okay.” He chewed his lip, thinking for a moment, “You know, you don’t have to keep hiding this from me.”

“It’s just not fair to you. I don’t—“

But he caught her off, “Jordynne, I know exactly what I signed up for.”

She let out an exasperated sigh, “But I’ve made everything messy. And confusing. This isn’t what you wanted, I’m sure.”

“All I want is for you to not feel like this.” He moved his head until they were both looking at each other. His dark eyes studied her green ones, “So if that means Ethan... or me. Regardless of what happens, with the trial or with him I’m going to be here. Probably with coffee. Until you tell me not to be.” He slipped his hand into hers, squeezing it gently.

They stayed like that for a moment, before Jordynne sat up a little. Her face came towards his, and Bryce felt his breath hitch for a moment. Her pink lips grazed his cheek with a small kiss. “Thank you,” She whispered, a sad smile spreading across her face before she laid back down.

Bryce swallowed hard — burying the feelings that had flared up in him as she had neared his face. He had thought — well, it didn’t matter.

He left a couple hours later — after finally coaxing Jordynne out of her room with the coffee and pizza and friends. He had sat across the table from her — unable to tear his eyes away.

Now, he was strolling down a sidewalk in downtown Boston. Opting to walk home instead of taking the subway — the crisp night air was turning his cheeks red. But he had needed the time to think and unwind. It was late now and everything felt heavy — his steps, the long, slow blinks of his eyes, among other things.

All at once the inky black sky opened to let out a shower of rain. It came down slowly at first, before turning into the large droplets that splatted against the sidewalk and Bryce’s face. Scrambling at first Bryce started to pull up the hood of his jacket, before laughing at himself. He was already drenched, soaked from the cool rain.

As he rounded the familiar corner near the hospital, Bryce’s eyes squinted at the familiar neon glow of a pub near his apartment. He could hear the thudding music from inside the building, muffled through the windows but getting slightly louder as patrons went in and out. He had never been inside before — usually opting for the familiar bar near the hospital instead.

As he got closer to the establishment, Bryce’s footsteps started to falter a little in the rain — noticing a figure stumble out of the bar. Just like him, they got immediately drenched by the rain — though the man had no coat like Bryce. He watched as he tipped his head back, letting the cold rain hit him in the face before barking out a hard laugh. Then the man looked to the side, finally noticed he was being watched.

Bryce studied his dark features before recognition washed over him.

It was Ramsey.

Ethan must have realized who he was too, cause in that moment he turned on his heel and began striding away in the opposite direction.

Anger boiled in Bryce as his steps moved faster to match with his — attempting to catch up to him. Jordynne has been constantly worrying, waiting to hear from him — and now he was in the city and still hadn’t reached out to her?

“Hey!” Bryce called putting after him, almost in a jog at this point. “Hey!”

“What do you want, Lahela?” Ethan slurred, finally twisting around to face him.

“What I need,” Bryce took him by the shoulders and pulled him under a nearby awning away from the rain. His breath was a little ragged, and he took a moment to take a few deep breaths, “What I need is for you to figure out what the fuck you want.”

“Excuse me?” Ethan was looking anywhere but at Bryce. He reeked of booze — the scent lingering on him even though his sweater was soaked. And he looked like, well, shit. The surgical intern had never seen the ex-Attending look so disheveled.

“This.” Bryce jabbed a finger into his chest, “You. Whatever this is — it’s killing her.”

He studied his face when he said that — noticing the guilt that washed over Ethan’s face. He knew who he is was talking about.

“What you’re doing is killing, Jordynne. I’ve never seen her like this. And it’s because of you.” Shoving his hands back into his jacket pocket, Bryce backed away from him a little. “So decide man, do you want her? Or not? Because she does. She wants you.”

The pair were silent for a moment, tension still slowly pulling between them.

Finally, Ethan spoke again. “You just admit to losing Lahela? Your girl wants me over you?”

Bryce’s nostril flared for a moment, but he pushed the anger back down. “I could give a shit about losing to you. All I care about is her being happy. And for some god damn reason, you do that for her.

I could care less about being her second choice. I could be her hundredth choice, and I would still be ecstatic. Because everyday with her is like winning the god damn lottery. And if you don’t fucking realize that, then you need to let her go. Because it’s killing her. And I can’t watch it anymore.”

Ethan’s steely eyes were wide for a moment, and his Adam’s Apple dropped as he took a hard swallow. “How long have you been preparing that?”

“Since the moment I found out how she felt about you.” Bryce let out a long breath through his nose, “In my head, there was a pretty good right hook to your face too. But I figure I shouldn’t do that.”

“Thanks.” Ethan breathed out. Bryce watched him stumble a little towards the curb, before lowering himself onto it and sitting down. Ethan put his face into his hands.

Letting out a sigh, he sat down next to him — feeling his jeans get soaked from the water running off the sidewalk. “Why are you being like this?”

“Well, I would approximate that I’m at 0.15% Blood Alcohol Content right now. That probably has something to do with it.”

“That’s not what I—,” Bryce chewed on the inside of his cheek, “Then why are you drinking like this? To forget?”

“Maybe to remember,” Ethan said quietly.

The pair watched in silence as a car drove by on the other side of the road — hitting a puddle and sensing a large spray of water over the asphalt.

“I’m not what they think I am.”

Bryce’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

“Jordynne. Naveen. Harper. All of them. I’m not what they think I am.” Ethan waved his arm at himself, sitting on the curb, “This is the real Ethan Ramsey.”

“Jordynne doesn’t seem to think so.” He gulped.

“Well, she’s wrong.” Ramsey croaked.

“Maybe you should let her decide that.” Bryce put his hands on his knees and pushed himself off of the curb. “And stop ghosting her. Talk to her.”

“I—“

“No. This,” Bryce pointed to Ethan drunkenly sitting on the curb, “Is not helping anyone.”

Finally, he offered his hand out to Ethan. He hesitated, but then grabbed onto the surgical intern's tan hand and allowed him to help him up. “I still don’t like you though.”

“I know.”

“And you don’t like me.”

“Nope.”

“But I — we,” Bryce corrected himself, “We like Jordynne. So.”

“Yeah.”

Bryce didn’t say anything else. He noticed a cab turning the corner near them, and he flagged them down with a wave. “You too drunk to remember where you live?”

“Hyde Park?” Ethan asked through the open window of the cab. He got a nod from the driver, and he pulled the door open. Ethan paused with the door open, “I’d offer to share the cab, but I feel like if you spend any more time with me I risk getting that right hook to the face?”

“Yup,” Bryce said coolly.

Ethan barked out a laugh, before giving Bryce a final nod and slipped into the cab.

He watched the yellow cab pull away, and he finally realized how long he had been standing (and sitting) in the rain for. Pulling out his phone, he sighed when he noticed the time and pocketed it again.

What had he gotten himself into?

Part Eighteen

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dreamingformuses · 6 years ago

Text

an irondad foster care! bio dad! au inspired by @agib-2002

-Peter is in foster care after his mother, father, uncle, and aunt die

-Basically he has nowhere to go

-His current foster parents live in midtown’s district

-And so he goes there

-Its the first school he’s ever really enjoyed going to

-And he doesn’t have a lot of friends, but the ones he has are good

-His parents are not good, though

-They don’t like him, and constantly tell him that.

-They say that hes a waste of space

-They say he’s worthless

-And that they don’t like to hear him speak

-They don’t give him much choice in anything

-They don’t make casual conversation

-They tell him that he’s why his family died

-And that nobody loves him

-And so when there’s an application for an after school internship, he signs up

-He doesn’t even know where it is

-He just wants to get away from home

-But nobody knows this

-He gets the internship and surprise! Its at stark industries

-It makes him feel really nice

-Like maybe he is worth something

-And when the day comes he tells his foster parents that he’ll be home late

-And they say “good”

-“But don’t be late for dinner. If you are, you won’t get it.”

-It puts a damper on his mood

-So he puts on the nicest shirt he owns and a pair of khakis

-And heads to stark tower after school

-He nervously heads to the receptionist’s desk and says he’s here for the internship

-She kindly takes him up to the lab levels

-And peter thinks he’ll be working with other interns on low level stuff

-Wrong

-His test scores got him a very high position

-Personal lab assistant to tony stark

-Pretty sweet, huh

-And so the receptionist deposits him at the entrance to his lab

-And shes like “i dont have the clearance for in there honey”

-So he waits for a while, just listening to the music blaring through the door

-He knocks quietly, then waits

-Nothing

-He knocks again and again

-Nothing

-So he decides to just see if the door will open

-It does

-Huh

-He pokes his head in there and sees tony working on something across the room

-He asks quietly “mr. stark?”

-Tony whips around

-Like “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY SWAMP” style

-And he asks peter (pretty meanly) “who are you and why are you here?”

-“Um, im sorry mr stark my name is peter? I’m your lab assistant?”

-And tonys like “agh sorry kid i forgot that was today.”

-He turns the music down and invites peter in properly

-“So peter, huh. Tell me about yourself. Where do you go to school, what you like, where do you live, who are your parents, yadda yadda”

-And peters like “uhhhhhh i go to midtown and i like science”

-He doesn’t really know what to do because he’s being spoken to like another adult

-Not a kid that he doesn’t want

-He conveniently doesn’t say anything about his parents because ~touchy subject~

-and tonys like okay enough small talk lets get sciencing

-So peter gets a lab tour and a rundown of the rules

-There’s only a few

-Don’t make stupid decisions

-Always check your math before using things that could blow up

-Bringing snacks is encouraged because tony gets hungry too

-And please please please don’t freak if another avenger comes in here

-Tony has the bright idea to test peters knowledge in the different areas of science

-So for the first days, they do lots of chemistry stuff

-Peter is very good at chemistry

-Then its physics

-Peter is also very good at physics

-Then they do engineering

-Peter is also very good at engineering

-This happens over a week or so

-Tony notices that peter doesn’t talk much

-And only speaks when directly spoken to

-He does what he’s told

-But not in a good way like a robotic way

-Whenever things go flying in an experiment he flinches

-And he isn’t the biggest fan of loud noises

-But tony doesnt say anything

-And after a couple of months, not a lot changes

-He talks a bit more freely, but the physical things don’t change

-And somehow the topic of parents comes up

-And tony’s like “yeah my mom was italian what about yours”

-Peter says he doesn’t know

-So tony says “yoooo we should do one of those genetics ancestry things. It can be our biology project. We’ll get bruce to draw some blood, and we’ll do tests”

-Peter is like “wait dr bruce banner bruce??”

-“Duh”

-“That is so cool”

-So they get the blood work done and set about looking at them genes

-They find out that tony is italian (surprise surprise) and that he’s at risk for heart disease (haha get it)

-And that peter’s got some italian in him too

-“Now i’ve got to make you my mom’s lasagna you fellow italian boy”

-But it was a Ruse

-Tony did want to have lasagna but it was more than that

-When he was looking at their genes he ran a paternity test because there was something he couldn’t shake

-The idea that peter is his kid

-Like just the way he looks, how he’s so into science, his mannerisms

-It all seemed so weird

-He didn’t expect it to turn up positive

-So peter shows up tomorrow and friday directs him to tony’s penthouse rather than the lab

-And peters like “damn i didn’t think he was actually gonna make me lasagna”

-But there it is

-On the table

-They sit down and tony says “kid you know im shit with emotions but we need to talk”

-And peter just looks terrified

-Because every time hes had a “talk” its never had a happy ending

-So peter just begins to apologize for not being good enough

-How hes sorry for wasting tony’s time

-That he’ll leave

-Tony is like “no dude wtf”

-“Calm down”

-“Why would you think that?”

-Peter quickly changes the subject

-Because tony doesn’t know he’s a foster kid

-But for some godforsaken reason tony keeps dragging the conversation back to his parents

-And finally tony says “i need to stop beating around the bush. Peter, who is your dad?”

-Peter shakily tells him that he’s in foster care

-Tony momentarily forgets why they’re eating together

-“Why haven’t you told me this before?????”

-And then he puts the pieces together

-This is why peter is so skittish

-He calms down and says “we’ll deal with that later. Did you ever know your father, peter? I need you to think. Hard.”

-And peter doesn’t think he ever did know him

-Because even when mary and ben and may were around, there was no dad

-Peter is confused

-“No, why?”

-“Remember when we did that genetic experiment?

-“Uh huh”

-“I ran a few extra tests”

-“And”

-“I ran a paternity test”

-“Oh”

-“Peter, i’m your dad”

-And things started to make sense

-Why they were drawn together

-Why everyone kept saying they looked alike

-What made peter sign up in the first place

-Why they always seemed to be on the same wavelength

-Etc etc

-They sit in silence for a while

-Each just processing

-It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence though

-Peter began to cry silently

-A shaky “can i”

-Tony nods his head, and peter comes over to hug him

-They sit together for a while

-Just being and knowing the truth

#irondad #irondad and spiderson #foster care au #biological irondad #found family #marvel #iron man #spider-man

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l1ana · 6 years ago

Text

Imagine being able to hold Thors' hammer

Summary: Yeet, idfk I'm in a car thinking this up so yEAH—

———

You were the main one to usually tidy up after the messes that the rest of the avengers made in the tower; that included repairing destroyed parts of it. After all, it was the least you could do to repay Tony for letting you in as one of the family. Unfortunately, being let into the family also meant being the main target for idiot or cruel pranks cast upon you by the rest of the team. It was hard to get used to at first, but you eventually made way to accept that everyone were just as goofy and carefree on the inside as they were on the outside— They never meant you any harm.

Today was no different. Long story short: some idiot tried to attack the tower, lots of collateral damage to the tower, you going to clean up the tower. “[Name], you know I have money for a reason, right?” Tony asked, walking underneath the ladder you stood on with a coffee mug in hand. “Yeah but fixing things is my specialty. Consider it a second hobby besides helping you guys kick the shit out of bad guys.” “Language.” Steve groaned, relaxing into the couch. A smirk graced your face. “Figured you'd say that.” Tony took a seat at the dining room table.

“That guy was... Tough.” Clint exhaled an aggravated sigh. “Yeah, tell me about it.” Natasha added. “Are you all okay? I can fix you some cup of tea if you'd like.” You said, waving your hand upwards to have a multitude of tools make their way to the walls and initiated the cleanup. “No, no, [Name]. It's quite alright.” Bucky dismissed, still wondering how you could be in such a happy-go-lucky mood after what the hell just happened.

You reached your left hand downwards, expecting one of your tools to fly into hand. “Uhhh, I can't seem to find my hammer. Can someone get an extra from the closet?” At those words, an idea popped into a certain gods mind. Now he sure enough wasn't the mischievous type compared to his brother Loki, but Thor did enjoy teasing you as much as everyone else did. Clint stared at him with that knowing look in his eyes, fully aware of what the deity had in mind. It was quite obvious to everyone what Thor was thinking, and most of them groaned in dismay or laughed in agreement.

“You honestly can't find any other way to act smooth, can you?” Tony remarked with a sip of his drink. Unlike the others, the capabilities of Thors legendary hammer Mjolnir hadn't been leaked to you at all. And since you hadn't the slightest clue to whatever Thor was brainstorming, this only worked to his favor. “Of course he can't. The only way he knows how to is by telling his long tales of being a god and whatever.” Sam stated with a wave of his hand. To elaborate on what they were saying— Thor may have developed a small l̶a̶r̶g̶e̶ liking towards you. Just a little bit. But honestly, he wasn't the only one.

“You guys just can't leave the poor girl alone for one minute, can you?” Wanda laid back into the recliner while making said comment. “Hey, I'm not the one thinking it up.” Bruce waved his hands around in defense. “Nor am I.” Clint added before doubling with a, “But just in case, 30 bucks saying she'll hold it.” Que the loud and obviously ticked off groans from Steve. “That's a really low move,” He grumbled, throwing his left arm atop of his face. “..... 50 saying she will.”

Bucky threw a pillow at his companions stomach, scolding him for indulging in this idiot plan to make you swoon for Thor. “10 on her not holding it.” Until giving in himself for why not sakes.

Before they knew it, the team was all making quiet bets deciding whether or not your palm could properly wrap around the handle of the legendary hammer without falling. The good news if you couldn't hold it was that Thor could catch you —due to the weight of the hammer knocking you off balance and sending you quickly gravitating towards the floor— in one arm and his hammer in another, looking dashing and being seen in your eyes as ‘hero’. And even if you could hold it, to which he HIGHLY doubted, he'd be getting paid. It was a win-win on either side.

Snickers and moans, followed by a few discouraging comments courtesy of Sam, flew around as Thor aproached the ladder you stood at with Mjolnir behind his back. “[Name], I have the hammer you seek-” Once he turned his eyes up, he immediately dragged them back down to the floor with a crimson stroking his usual pale skin, not wanting to come off as ungentlemanly for staring at your rump. A cough came from his mouth as you opened a free hand and held it out, expecting the hammer to be set into your palm. “Thank you Thor.” Oh goodness your voice was like catnip to a catnip-starved street feline. He absolutely adored it with his entire heart and soul. Almost made him feel bad for what he was about to do. “E-ehem! You're deeply welcome, my dear [Name].” He said, pulling his weapon from behind him and holding it by the base, setting the handle within your palm. His head clocked back towards the team, who either gave a look of affirmation or one of disagreement to his action.

Thor sighed, his fingers releasing grip of the iron block and opening his arms out, ready to catch you.

Nothing happened.

It went dead silent in the tower, the only sound being you hammering the nail into the wall to finish hanging the picture. The amount of jaws that dropped was immesurable. Thor turned his head round to witness the shocked expressions written over his team mates faces. Oh yeah, they looked like all hell had been loose. Deciding to dart his gaze upwards to where they all directed their sights, he joined the rest of the avengers in this awestricken state.

There you were, twirling the hammer in your hand innocently as you wiped the sweat glands forming on your forehead. “There we go. Good as new.” You remarked with a chirp, pushing the picture frame to be straight and neat. You slid down the ladder as the tools fell back into your small toolbox, the top closing itself instinctively with a satisfying snap. “This is quite the odd modeling for a hammer. But nevertheless, thank you for the help. If I had moved, it might've been raining wrenches and iron bits, heh.” A gloved hand, your hand exactly, scratched the nape of your neck as you giggled nervously. Due to your close-eyed grin, you were unable to catch glimpse of Thors' undescribable expression that painted his face.

“I’ll get going to the outside now. Y-you all have fun!” With that you dashed through the living room on your way to the balcony, opening your eyes and taking notice of everyone's faces. “What's wrong? I can always lend an ear if need be.” You chuckled, leaving them all in wake of those words.

“She held it.” Clint was the first to speak up amongst the group, putting a wall between the quietness. “She actually held it.” His mouth was wide enough to stuff and entire pie in as he said that. “She actually held it.” Sam took a long hard stare at his drink, eyes furrowing. What the hell was in it? He wasn't drunk right now, right? Oh well, whatever was in it -or left in it- was gone, down his throat. Natasha just smirked in a know-it-all fashion, retorting “That's what you all get for underestimating the power of [Name],” “Aka the power of unrelenting kindness.” Wanda and Nat did a little fist bump. “Name's worthy... Totally didn't see that coming.” Steve said sarcastically with a smug look. He already foresaw the hammer within your threshold long ago after witnessing what a charismatic young lady you were, always willing to help whenever.

“See, this is the part where I wake up because I know I did not just let a 200 go to waste.” Tony said, pinching his cheeks. Everybody was stuck in conversation, dishing out surprised comments or bragging about the money they got simply from the bet. However, Thor wasn't making any comments at all. No gasps, no inhales, nothing. Just nothing. It was blatantly obvious that he was the most stunned of all. Bruce smirked. “What's the matter Thor? Someone finally picked up the claimed ‘unholdable’ hammer and now you're quiet?”

“To be honest, [Name] is probably the worthiest of us all.” Peter said. “I mean, she has a heart of gold. Literal gold.” He fawned over how much of a sweetheart you absolutely were. Pietro nodded in agreement. “She's a gracious girl with nothing but purity within her.”

It goes without saying that this whole idea of ‘worthy’ didn't define as much to everyone as it did to Thor. So many roads were being laid out before his very eyes revolving around you. This had so many different meanings, so many different futures. You could take place as a ruler of Asgard. You could possibly transend and become a goddess. The head attached to the mop of blonde hair was sent into a ditzy. He was in this state of rethinking literally everything that's eved occured in his life. His emotions were a mix of shock, rage, joy, and so much more— all of them swirling n him and creating a feeling he didn't even know existed. There was no way to even give it proper words. “Hey, Thor.” Rhodney snapped his fingers, eliciting the other to awaken from his daydream. “Oh, yes?”

“So, whatcha gonna do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“[Name] held your hammer. This obviously means something besides the fact that she's boiling with love to spread.” Bucky said. “Isn't there something more to it...?”

“I have to marry her.” Thor said without hesitation. “What?” Everyone in the room perked their heads up. “Asgard must be ruled over with those the hammer deems worthy, and [Name] is without a doubt worthy.” Oh how Steve was happy that he didn't pull the hammer off the table that time when they were all drinking. “Awww, so you finally get a shot to kiss wittle old [Name]y-waymey.” Tony mocked, making fake smooching noises. “He wasn't ever going to make a move on his own, I think it's good that the hammer got involved.” Pietro commented.

“Jeez it's blazing hot out there.” Speak of the devil, there you were, emerging from the outside with sweat running down your body, your clothes almost soaked in the substance. “I could use a drink right about now.” Waltzing your way to the fridge, you bent down and picked out a small glass of water, chugging it down in one gulp and releasing an ‘ahhh’ of satisfaction.

Thor felt something hit his head; A pillow. Glaring at the one who threw it, the god sighed at Clints childish act yet got the message. He inhaled, mustering all the courage he could and walking up to you. “Uhm, lady [Name], I could really-” “Hey Thor. Here's your hammer back.” You turned and greeted, opening his palm to place the hammer in it. “W-wait, you knew this was mines...?” He asked questioningly. “Yup. You always walk around with it after all,” A light laugh emitted as he took the time to process this. “It's pretty light for a hammer that only gods can pick up. Does that make me a goddess?” Everyone overhearing this in the living room snickered. No doubt about it, Thor was going to go crazy.

“Wellll, I guess since it's your hammer, that technically makes me your goddess!”

thor.exe has crashed

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natashaashleymarvelromanoff · 5 years ago

Text

I’m so glad you’re back - Chapter 10

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8 chapter 9 chapter 11 Chapter 12 chapter 13 chapter 14 chapter 15 Epilogue

One by one, each Avenger jumped from their time and destination they had collected the stones from, joining each other in the quantum vortex.

It doesn't take a few seconds before they are all their normal size again and landing on their feet onto the platform of the time machine in the hangar.

Once they land, they all deactivate their quantum bands around their wrists, the nano armour retracting from their bodies returning them to their normal suits. The air starts to fill with happiness and laughs as the team started talking to each other and realised they had the stones and started to give each other high fives and hugs. They'd done it! But the celebrations the team had started were soon cut short.

Natasha watched as her friends embraced in hugs and told each other welcome back. But no-one had taken notice yet of her, and the absence of one of their own. Except for nebula, she wasn't celebrating like everyone else, instead, she was looking around and saw her upset face.

Falling to her knees, a loud bang echos in the room at the sound of her legs collapsing. Suddenly everyone stops and whips their heads in her direction. They all fall silent as they look at her face, there are traces of tears on her cheeks, her eyes reddened. It's after Tony sees her face that he notices that there is one less person in the room than before they left. Clint wasn't stood beside her.

“Natasha? Wheres Clint?” Tony calls out to her, worried about his friend he immediately steps over to her and bends slightly to wrap an arm around her shoulder. At Tony's question, the rest of the Avengers start to move their heads around and shifting their eyes side to side trying to find the archer among their group, even looking around the room in the furthest corners in case he had landed in a different spot or had possibly arrived before them. But alas, he wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Once the group had finished searching the room, they all turned back to Natasha, waiting for her answer, the braided redhead carefully reached her arm outwards to the group, her clenched hand opened, her fingers slowly uncurling, revealing the orange infinity stone.

“Th- there-there was a price. A soul for a soul.” she could barely even whisper her words as she finished speaking.

Watching as her head dropped and she started to silently sob, Tony shut his eyes and held onto his friend tighter as he accepted the truth. Clint was gone.

The rest of the team watched Natasha and tony with sorrow in their eyes. Of course, thor rhodey and bruce’s reactions were more emotional than the others in their team. They had been friends for years, they had met his kids, his family. Scott and rocket were also saddened at the realisation. And nebula remained indifferent. They may have only known him for a short time, some of them only a few days, but he was their teammate. And today they lost him.

It took a few minutes for her to stand up and move, but with Tony's help, he helped her up onto her feet and led her away from the time machine and took her to her room to be alone.

The rest of the Avengers took a moment to mourn as Tony took Natasha. Rhodey, Bruce, rocket and Scott changed out of their suits and into normal clothes and went to sit outside near the lake. Nebula had wondered off, distancing herself from the team so they wouldn't suspect anything, using the teammate's death as an excuse to exclude herself. After taking Natasha to her room, Tony left to join the boys on the deck to talk about their fallen friend. Each sharing a different story about him.

Tony mentioned the first time Clint took them to his house, and that he thought Laura and the kids were agents, which made rocket laugh at Tony's stupidity to assume that the kids were agents.

Bruce only had stories from their time between the battle of new york and Ultron. Going on missions together, patching everybody up when they were hurt.

Of course, rocket had only just met him, but the racoon did share his thoughts about Clint. And that he was genuinely sorry about his family, and that he respected the archer.

And Scott, well Scott only really had memories from the incident from the accords. Teaming up, then getting arrested together. In the end, he and Clint had taken deals, both having to wear an ankle monitor for 2 years. It was a crazy thought to him. Ti was 7 years ago but to him only 2.

After the 4 boys had finished sharing, they make their way back inside the compound and into the workshop.

But when the boys were outside, Thor had gone to see Natasha. She had taken care of him for years, always making sure he was okay, keeping him on the right track. He knew how she must be feeling, she lost a friend, a man that was practically a brother. Now it was his turn to comfort her.

Knocking on her door, he waited until he could vaguely hear the soft voice of his friend telling him to come in. gently, Thor pulled the handle down and pushed the door open. Making his way in, he saw Natasha sat on the edge of her bed, staring into nothing, her hands in her lap.

walking over to her, the blonde god slowly sits next to her, the mattress dipping as he did. For a few seconds, he's silent, unsure of what to say, but eventually, he tries his best to comfort her.

“I spoke to my mother”

His words gain her attention, she didn't expect it. Natasha lifts her head slightly to look at the blonde.

“You did?” gently thor nods his head at his friend. The hint of a smile making its way to his lips.

“I miss her so much, she knew who I was straight away, she always knew what to say and what to do”

This makes Natasha smile when he mentions his mother's maternal instinct.

“I bet she did. Us moms always know what to do.”

“If she was here, I know she would do a better job of comforting you as you said, mothers always know what to do, especially to make you feel better. I know Clint was your oldest friend and I'm deeply sorry about him and I will remember him forever for his bravery.”

Turning to face his friends, thor reaches out his arms and pulls her into a hug, practically engulfing her frame with his. But she didn't mind, Natasha just returned the hug, grateful for the comfort.

“Thank you, Natasha, for being there for me always.” Natasha meant a lot to Thor, she really did. She was one of the only people he kept in contact with after all these years, and after losing his people and last of his family she comforted him and practically became his family, she was like a sister, and her son his nephew.

“Your basically my big brother Thor, ill always be there for you,” she said back, her nose quietly sniffling.

“And I, you. I know if Clint was here he would demand I look out for you and have your 6, and when we get everyone back, ill make sure to tell his family that he will forever reside in Valhalla for his sacrifice and that he was the best of us.”

Slightly pulling away from their hug, thor stretched his neck to the side and gave a gentle kiss to Natasha's cheek.

“ in all honesty Natasha, I can't help but be glad you came back. As awful as it sounds.”

She took no offence to his words, she knew he felt guilty to say it considering her return came at a price.

“It's okay Thor, I know what you mean. We fought when we were on vormir, em and Clint. Neither of us wanted each other to do it, and for a few seconds, I thought it was gonna be me. I jumped and then the idiot jumped after me. But in those few seconds when I was falling, all I could think about was James.”

At the mention of her son, her eyes start to water. She hadn't realised before when she and Clint were on vormir how serious it actually was. She would have died. Gone forever. She would have never seen her baby again.

“I'm forever in his debt. Even now he's gone. He gave his life to save mine, to save everyone. So I could see my son again, I can't imagine not seeing him, the thought of not being there for him. Clint gave me another chance at life today. He's a hero,”

“Yes he is.” thors heart nearly broke at her words, she talked about not being able to see her son anymore, and that Clint has saved her again. He couldn't himself imagine her not being here either. Natasha had been such a constant these past few years, both her and his nephew.

Natasha wiped the tears that had fell from her face, finally calmed down. After making sure she was okay, Thor and Natasha both left to join the rest of their friends in the workroom, where Scott, Tony, rocket and Bruce were now constructing their own gauntlet.

……

Standing in the back of the room, Natasha watched as the genius, hulk and racoon worked to insert the infinity stones into the iron gauntlet. Thor and rhodey were stood on her left also watching the three work, but nebula was nowhere to be seen and hadn't since they got back.

Natasha had noticed nebula had been absent for a while, but just put it down to her wanting to let them have their time to mourn.

Everyone minus the blue cyborg watched tensely as the metal hands of the machine picked up each stone and place them into the gauntlet one by one, it was nervewracking watching them attach to the metal. rocket, tony and Bruce watched up close to the glass as the machine placed the last one. With all 6 stones now attached, the gauntlet let off a glow of power.

“BOO!” the sudden fright make tony and bruce jump a mile. All rocket could do was laugh at them for jumping at his joke. nothing was going to happen when they placed them in the metal of course, but rocket couldn't help himself, it was too much of a good opportunity.

With the gauntlet assembled, the rest of the team suited up.

It was time.

“You saw what those stones did to Thanos, they almost killed him. None of you could survive that.” Bruce knew he had to be the one to do it. It was just logical. He couldn't let thor do it, even with his persistence he wouldn't let the god try. Bruce knew Thor had felt enormous guilt from not killing Thanos the day of the snap, Thor was still mentally trying to heal and move on, he wasn't in the right shape of mind. Not to mention he had a race of people he had to take care of.

Walking over closer to him to speak, Natasha put her hands on her hips, like a mother scolding her child and looked up to reach the green man's eyes.

“How do we know you will?” the braided redhead was obviously concerned, she didn't want anything to happen to her friend, not after just losing her oldest one.

“You don't. But the radiation’s mostly gamma. It's like I was made for this.” not fighting his words anymore, Natasha nodded. There was no stopping him and truth be told she knew he was right. She knew none of the rest of them wouldn't be able to take that kind of power. If it was going to be any of them that had a chance of coming out of this alive. It was Bruce.

The 6 other Avengers spread themselves around the room, Natasha was kept shielded behind Tony and his virtual shield whilst also holding her soldiers rounded one, tony suited up in his nono tech iron man suit.

Scott kept by the door and activated his helmet for extra protection. Thor and rocket stood opposite to Natasha and tony, also shielding themselves from any blows the stones may cause, and just in case, thor held Mjolnir and Stormbreaker in defence.

And in the middle of the room, Bruce stood holding the iron gauntlet, waiting to put it on. Once he was sure his friends were protected from the more than likely blast, he lifted his left arm holding the glove up and guided it to his right hand.

The small metal glove moved and adjusted itself to fit bruces hand as he glided it inside. The once human-sized glove was now able to fit his larger one.

Once on, the stone's power raced through bruces arm and body, making him scream in pain and fall to his knees. The stones were powerful, more powerful than anything in the universe, and now it was coursing through his veins.

Inbetween his screams he could hear his teammates telling him to remove it. Begging for him to take it off. But he refused. He could do this.

He had to do this.

Raising his right gloved arm, Bruce took a deep breath, in and out so gently. He bent his ring finger and thumb towards each other, placing the tips against the other. All it took was one slight movement and then...

Snap.

--------

Once they had returned to the facility, nebula had swiftly made her exit from the strangers around her. She supposed they were the people the traitor was on a team with. Once the rest of them had discovered one of their own had died, she took the opportunity to leave and separated from them, giving them a reason to believe she was mourning. She didn't know if the older version of herself had known this man properly, but even if she did or didn't, her absence would be assumed as a sign of mourning.

But unbeknownst to them, she wasn't their nebula. The blue cyborg avoided the teammates as best she could whilst they gathered out near the lake and also when they built the gauntlet. She kept an eye on them to make sure they wouldn't follow or suspect her as she made her way to the quantum time machine.

Before she had jumped, she had taken the particles and suit off her doppelganger and gave them to her father. With the help of his minions, he managed to create more of the particles so he could use them to come to the future. Now all she had to do was activate the machine, allowing Thanos to arrive in 2023.

Once she knew they were all occupied with the green monster and the gauntlet, nebula made her way fro the hangar, retracing her steps to find the room.

Walking over to the machinery that filled half the space, nebula got up close to the control panel, she was unsure of which button to press at first, but she was smart, this is what she had been trained for years for. But in the end, it wasn't that hard to figure out. To her right was a big red button. She couldn't help but sigh and roll her eyes.

Terrans are unbelievable, she thought.

Just as she hit the button, nebula felt a surge of power pass through her body. And travel through the rest of the building.

The green monster.

He did it.

But it didn't matter, because after a few seconds of activating the machine, the sanctuary II was transported into their air space. The massive, dark ship hovering above the building.

Thanos was here.

…..

Once Bruce had clicked his fingers, the power was too much for him that he almost passed out at the energy surging through his arm and body. Each of his friends ran over instantly as he fell, disregarding their shields, rocket, rhodey, and Tony worked to take the glove of his now damaged and charred arm. it looked smaller than the other, the power had obviously taken its toll, so Natasha and Thor tried to keep him awake. But Scott walked towards the window instead, his attention taken by something outside.

As lang got closer to the glass, he noticed it looked slightly brighter outside, as if the clouds had gone away to let the sunshine through at the act Bruce had done. Then he heard something. chirping.

Scott had been at this exact window before Bruce had snapped. Before they even asked for Tony's help. When he first arrived a few days ago. But there had been no birds there before.

And here, right in front of him, there were two birds chirping away as if nothing had happened.

Scotts face lite up in realisation, a huge smile gracing his face.

“Guys we did it.”

The rest of his team turn to look at him as he shouted out. All in slight disbelief.

Then a buzz started to ring out.

It was a phone, turning her head Natasha looked in the other direction of Scott towards the sound of the vibrations. Leaving thro to help Bruce. Step by step she walked over to look at it. Picking up the small object and Holding it in her hand she turned it over in her fingers to see the caller ID.

Laura.

Natashas breath caught in her throat as she looked at the picture and read the name that was saved in Clint's phone. He still had her saved after all these years, there was even a little heart next to her name.

Since Scott and Natasha were occupied on opposite sides of the room, The rest of the boys carried on to help Bruce with his arm and also had slight celebrations behind her, but Natasha could only focus on the phone.

It rang out a few more times before Natasha could answer. Swiping her finger along with the touch screen button, the mother answered the phone, slowly bringing it up to her ear.

Natasha held her breath. It couldn't be anyone else calling this phone. It was Clint's phone, and it was lauras number. It was Laura. She was calling him, Scott was right. They brought everyone back. She could just about hear the sound of lauras voice worry down the phone a voice she hadn't heard for years, but before she could respond, the compound trembled with the force of a hit.

And then everything went black.

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