#but yeah let bruce be old and thriving!

[dracaelus]

Not enough writers exploring the idea of bruce retiring from batman and becoming the bats new tech guy once lucius fox dies/retires. Like, bruce is actually pretty good at coming up with new gadgets and incorporating new/alien technologies into the bat stuff so really, I think it would be really cool?? Also, he could help oracle on his free time, and I feel like this would work really well with his paranoid and controlling tendencies, and he would be thriving in a job like this. Not to mention that he would still be helping the league with strategies, research and the diplomatic stuff, so no need for him to stop working with them. And he still has his charity work as bruce wayne.

So my point is, while of course we can all agree that everything bruce does as batman is important, I wouldn't say that activelly being on the field is the most important of his tasks, especially by the time he gets old and has dozens of allies doing it with him. I mean, he already trained a lot of heroes to work in gotham and there's a few of them who are just as skilled as him, some who are even better, so really, him retiring from that and focusing on his other duties as he gets older feels very natural and a much more compelling plotline to follow than just yk killing him off and then having the batfam fight about who's gonna take the mantle (i don't even think someone needs to)

[igotanidea]

Performance review: Bruce Wayne x reader

(my first Bruce Wayne fic, yay! Side note: my fave real life is Bale for sure, but feel free to imagine :D)

Imagine:

Being both Bruce's employee (management position!) and his girlfriend.

It's not a secret thought, you two were very open about it, taking action before the rumors got as much as a chance of arising.

Or rather - you forced him to be open about it, before the rumors got as much as a chance of arising.

Seriously, you didn't need people gossiping about you reaching your rank through the bed.

He didn't like it at all, having a Batman-kinda feeling that it would bring trouble onto your head.

***

And yeah, a week after the reveal you get an invitation for a performance review.

"What?!" she cried out in frustration reading line after line of the delivery "Those old men in worn out, out-of-fashion suits think they can just call on me like that? Pricks." you rolled your eyes.

"It's a routine thing, honey. You don't have to stress about it." Bruce muttered, standing behind her, wrapping arms on her waist, trying to placate her as much as himself. "Besides, I'd love to see you thrive under the pressure."

"More like squirm under the watchful eyes of those voltures."

"Don't sell yourself short." he nuzzled nose into the back of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of freshly perfumed soft skin.

"You do realise they look at me like I'm an incompetent slut just because we are together, right?"

"That's not true."

"Oh, honey, with all your Batman skills and intuition you can be so blind to social cues."

"I'm not!"

"You are, Brucie boy."

"Don't call me that!"

"You know you love when I call you that." she teased him mercilessly and to keep his face straight and not succumb to the sudden need to prove her his prowress as a man and not "Brucie boy" he decided to drop it. They didn;t have time for bedroom fun when she was about to be judged as a employee by a bunch of biased old-men.

"I'm gonna come with you to that meeting." he stated

"What?! You cannot do it! You're the CEO and my boss and my boyfiend all in one! You'll be excused on personal reasons and being partial!" she exclaimed, dropping the letter to the floor, trying her best to reason with Bruce. His presence at her 360 assesment could only cause trouble.

"Oh, you think I'm gonna let you in the room full of men without me present?" Bruce took a step towards her, towering over her. "Not a chance."

"The average age in that room would be like 60 and that's with me lowering it." Y/N sighed deeply, knowing well enough that once Bruce made his mind there was no argument - logical or unwaranted - that could change it.

"I'm coming. It's been decided. No one - you hear me- no one - exclude me from making decicions in my own company. This one included."

Oh boy....

This was no good at all....

<to be continued?>

[propheticpanickingnerd]

Jason's time in the league except he knew Damian.

Like yeah I know Damian is a test tube baby and got aged a bit faster or something but imagine this.

Talia, no matter how mischaracterised, develops a soft spot for Jason while he is catatonic. She is also a mother and has been/is undeniably in love with Bruce. No matter how much it sounds like she only loved Bruce to produce the perfect heir, they were in love, even if it was just once. She, mother of Bruce's child, raising him to be strong, the way she know how, ready to let him be free and meet his father, shall he desire. That same mother finds Jason, the dead son, of his grave, wandering, his mind never fully there, and decides to heal his injuries and help him heal.

Maybe that wasn't the plan, at first, maybe she never expect to be mother of a child not biologically related to her. Maybe by the way she was raised or by the standards that surrounded her. But now? As she watches her child, because Jason is her son, murder is professors because he finds them unworthy of breathing. Maybe then she realises that motherhood was something she wished for, maybe living peacefully. She wouldn't, though. Maybe in another time, but now? She had her father to manipulate while watching her children thrive.

Maybe they could've been in a life without blood, but the doubts it. The kids are attracted to danger, most likely, they love saving. Albeit their methods bloody, she knows it won't last long, with her beloved so close.

Maybe she lets Jason go back to Gotham, followed by a couple Shadows under her and her sons command only. She calls every week, checks in, asks what his plans are, how the bat is doing. Maybe she lets him yell at her, his frustrations wild, that she knows can only be pleased with blood, that she knows makes his opinion of his family twisted. Never of Talia, no, maybe he never called her mother, but she is sure he would never let her see him this way otherwise. Maybe it's because she saw him at his worst, once, but maybe, maybe she can dwell on maybes, for once, and hope that Jason does consider her his mother. Even if she could never replace his late mother, at least letting her help him with his plans is the most she can ask for.

With that, she understands Gotham, instead of being through reports, news, old tales from her beloved, it's from her son. Soon, it would be from both of them.

For now, until Jason creates his big reveal, finishes his plans, deals with whatever issues he wants to deal with, she will let him have Gotham to himself. She will keep her father away. She will continue doting on Damian, as she will tell him stories of her beloved, The Bat, and let his eyes shine. As she could not preserve her sons innocence, but she could try to ignite their hopes.

[inthememetime]

Cursed necklace DPxDC AU

Vlad is a 24yr-old student who dies in college...in the early 1900s. Since then, he has haunted the University of Wisconsin by virtue of his his old necklace.

He likes the school- and the students like him! Since photography became accessible, students, teachers, staff, and visitors alike have been trying to get photos with him, students bribe him to help with homework (after all, he's been auditing classes for a century), mainly with cheep beer, fried cheese-related foods, and (since some kid introduced him to the Green Bay Packers), Packers memorabilia.

The students leave the game on for him, and the brave ones turn the lights off and leave a spot open for him in the hopes of seeing the Wisconsin University ghost up close and personal. (If they combine this with cheese sticks and beer, it's a near guarantee).

In general, he's a beloved figure. But then the Fentons start college there. At first, it's cool! These humans have made machines to let them listen to him (with some translation errors), they're building a portal to the GZ, which means he can have other ghosts to talk to, again, and they're fun!

Oh. Wait. They're being kicked out because they tried something unethical. Oh well! Somebody just turned on a Packers game, and he can smell the cheesesticks already.

Little does he know, the Fentons have created their prototype thermos. Until his necklace (and due to the lack of ambient ectoplasm), essentially his core is in there.

For 15. Long. Years.

Danny- not as Phantom, just Danny- finds the box and, with the curiosity of a 9-year-old opens the box. Soon, he's contaminated, despite his new buddy trying to keep him safe. And dies. Yep 9 year old Phantom.

BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! See Damian was a TWIN! Bruce is, when he tracks down said twin, Very Displeased by the lack of safety measures, and takes his other biological son (and his son's sister who is only 12 rn) home with him.

Bruce does NOT know about his hitchhiker; a centuries-old vampire ghost. He also doesn't know Danny's dead. More under the cut!

Clark gets mind controlled and tries to start a fight. Tries being the operative word here, because his 9-year-old is fighting a grown Kryptonian. And winning.

Plasmius steals cheese a lot, turns TVs to Packers games, and is generally a nuisance. Constantine is called.

Constantine has a new best friend because holy shit, a real ghost who's willing to talk to him! He can get so much info!

Bruce: Can you get him out of my house? Plasmius: Where Danny goes, I go.

Danny: Hey, can I have this? *eats a blob ghost in front of everyone*. *shares half with Plasmius*

Constantine is both horrified and curious. Clark gets punted across state lines by a vampire ghost who was Not Happy his kiddo got in a fight. Jason gets therapy a la a 12-year-old girl, a 9-year-old half-dead kid, and a centuries-old ghost.

There's enough ambient ectoplasm to thrive on, so Plasmius can roam and Danny can start learning powers. Vlad starts teaching Jason on the sly too.

Danny starts talking to bats, cats, rats, and a snake Damian rescued. Damian takes him to break into zoos to see what else he can talk to. Bruce is tired.

Plasmius uses his doubles for housework purposes in exchange for cheese from Alfred. Alfred abuses this shamelessly to drag Bruce up from the cave and make him eat.

Jasmine is Aggressively Normal. To the point where they're considering therapy, but then she gets kidnapped, talks to Harley, and embraces her alter identity as The Mindflayer.

Ok fine, she admits that is a little villainous. Maybe she can be Wraith or something? "Look, it seems you guys are being a little too upset about-", " Jazmine, you turned the Joker into a vegetable." Jason: YEAH she did! C'mon, we're going to have some fun, kids!

Just- Bruce thought he was getting two kids from an abusive household. He did NOT sign up for 2 half-dead OP kids, a cheese and football-obsessed vampire ghost, and a...NO, Danny, you CANNOT keep the giant green hellhound. Damien, stop encouraging him!

[sil-and-seals-blog-something]

So, I both fell asleep mid-writing and lost what I had written. But, I love that the “Clockwork can’t properly stalk Danny” headcanon is spreading through prompts.

It is some beautiful imagery. Just those three gossiping. I imagine that the gossip is a mix of big things (what villain scheme were thwarted this week), Danny’s Fenton Luck things, and mundane things (like something a Yeti cub did recently, or what interest one of Danny’s kids pick up).

It’s absolutely Clockwork’s influence. But, they usually go on those trips to be a little weirded out, so Danny wants to ensure that they get the full experience. You can’t do that if you tell them what they’ll be seeing.

Yeah, Alfred is definitely the one in charge. It also makes sense that he’d ensure that Danny was suitable, considering Bruce’s dating history not being the best.

They absolutely thrive with each other. The shared pettiness, the care, the numerous children between them, absolutely thriving. Their children are also thriving with their two dads who keep each other in check. The reveal on them actually dating would probably go like

Damian: Father, I implore you to reassess your relationship with my other father. This is starting to be unbecoming of you.

Bruce: *feigning confusion*

Jason: What he means old man, is that you and Danny clearly like each other to the point that you’re basically dating but you both are the only ones left oblivious to it. Ask him out already.

Bruce: -

Tim: Yeah. He’s basically our stepdad at this point but it’d be awkward to call him that without you two dating.

Bruce: Danny and I are already dating.

Dick: What? What do- What do you mean by you’re already dating?!

Steph: Yeah! There’s been no change in how you two acted with each other but you both were clearly oblivious from the start?! What do you mean you are already dating him?

Cass and Alfred already knew. They let the two have their fun.

(I don’t know how Danny’s side of the reveal would be because I imagine the Batkids would either A- assume that Danny’s friends/family knew, B- be so stuck in trying to figure out when the two actually got together and forgot to mention it to anyone, or C- Cass and Alfred)

——

Conner would absolutely adore being on that project, and Tim would love working on something like that as well. Conner because he probably wishes he had something like it when he was first made, and Tim because he’s helping people like his best friend and because he knows how much this means to Conner. Danny offering Conner the same understanding and care throughout it all is just wonderful.

I love that their described like that. The funniest thing is that one of those Himbo Dads could be an eldritch horror as well (if we include the eldritch!Danny stuff)

Yes, full family project! They have so many family members who’ll be with them soon. Everything must be ready for them! Also, Fright Knight is enjoying getting to train the family. He’s never had such an extensive array of a royal family to take care of, but he’s thriving, he loves it!

What if instead of Bruce, Danny was Damian's father but only Ra's knows.

Like every thing goes according to canon but then around the time of Damian's creation Ra's finds out about the High King of the Infinite Realm and decides that an heir from him would be far superior (whether Ra's actually means Danny or mistakes him for Pariah Dark im unsure) and somehow manages to get some of his DNA

The problem is that Thalia is insistent on using her beloved.

Now, in order to keep his daughter's cooperation he simply switches the samples while she is unaware. (Or maybe he adds Danny's dna afterwards with or without Thalia's knowledge so Damian is both Bruce and Danny's son)

Now years later something happens causing Damian and the batfam to find out that he is, in fact, not the blood son.

Maybe its when he first gets there and Bruce runs a paternity test that turns up negative, poor baby Damian would be so shocked and confused and Bruce may not be the father but he's not just gonna kick this stabby 10 year old out onto the streets. He definitely wouldn't feel comfortable sending him back to the LoA, naybe they can help the kid find his real father

Or in the case that Bruce's DNA is also used maybe the batcomputer can only register Danny's side as Lazarus water so thing just pass as canon until something reveals Damian's connection to Danny.

IDK, maybe they meet somehow and ghost instincts recognize the familial bond. Maybe Danny occasionally works with or even joins the JL sometime after Damian shows up so now the Batcomputer has Danny's DNA on file to check against should the need to run Damian's blood come up again.

I imagine Danny's well into adulthood here, and there could be the potential for Spirit Halloween

(Im not likely to write this so imma just, @hdgnj @omnicrafts @nelkcats @nerdpoe @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @ailithnight, any of you got additions or thoughts)

[ellana-ravenwood]

“My fake boyfriend is a billionaire ?!” - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : After a few shitty weeks of everything going wrong, you somehow find yourself faking a relationship with the one and only Bruce Wayne. 

That’s it. I did it. After 3 years posting stories on this platform, I finally succumb to one of the biggest fanfiction cliché of all time haha. The infamous fake boyfriend trope. And I really hope you will like it : 

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

The Gap Year of Disaster

Today, you were an utter mess, and you couldn’t care less.

You know, this kind of days where you wish you would just have stayed in bed ?

Where everything goes wrong and you just want to hide under your blanket and pretend you don't have any responsibilities ?

Well today…Today was most definitely this kind of day.

It was suppose to be your first day at an exciting new job and you were so psyched about it, that you hadn’t been able to sleep all night. 

You finally fell into a deep slumber during the very early hours of the day, and…

Of course you woke up late ! You didn't have time to take a shower, or to do your make-up nicely or even to brush your hair. But worst of all you didn't have time to get coffee !

When you got out with your bike….it was pouring outside. Ah but of course, because when one thing goes wrong everything has to follow. Everything WILL go wrong. Murphy's law or some stupid things like that !

It's in those moments you wish you had a car ! Because when it rained in Gotham…It felt like Noah was ordered to built another ark !

So, sleep deprived, soaked, in a bad mood and looking like a mess, you managed, by some miracle, to arrive at your job on time.

Only to discover that this wasn’t at all what you were expecting. It was NOT what was promised to you, which was experience in an exciting workplace and a way to make the most of it. 

Instead, it was a desk job where you ran errand for everyone. Amazing. 

This was supposed to be your first try at “real life”, this was why you took that gap year from college. 

“I want to find myself, find who I really am !” You told everyone around you, ignoring those who were negative and telling you you should finish your study first. 

Now, as you were stuck in a tiny cubicle with an endless list of coffee orders you had to get for everyone else, you felt like maybe they were right, and that this wasn’t quite the way you were going to “find yourself”. 

Then again, wasn’t it through hardship that this sort of things unlocked ? Wasn’t it with great determination and knowing how it was to struggle, that you were going to thrive ? That’s what they said in TED talks dedicated to “success”...

So far in your life, things had been rather normal. Not particularly easy, but not hard either. You grew up in a small town in New Jersey, no troubles on the horizon. You then moved to Gotham for college as you had a scholarship for Gotham’s University, and as you were about to start your third year you sort of questioned wether or not this was your path...

One of your favorite professor told you to maybe take a gap year. A few semesters off, to think things through. Taking advantage of it to do some soul searching and try to know what you really wanted and...It sounded wonderful ! 

That’s when you started to have job interviews in many different fields, and it took you three months to finally find something. Three very stressful months of wondering how long you could live off of your measly savings, and wether or not you’d have to move back in with your parents (anything but that !)...Not a very good start to that gap year for sure. 

And when you landed what you thought was going to be a great job, things definitely were looking up ! Ah, but the fact that you were chosen while you had NO experience and such, should’ve been your first warning that this was too good to be true. 

You were trying to stay positive though. Maybe it was only for the first day ? Maybe their coffee person was sick or something ? It’d get more interesting later ? Yes. Yes let’s keep a positive outlook on everything. 

Except right now, as your entire morning was made of you walking up and down the building (the elevator was not working, but of course), to the coffee shop at the corner of the street, and bringing back orders for people, you didn’t feel in the mood to try and stay cheery. 

And the worst in all that ? You didn't even get ONE cup for yourself…This “real life” thing was not starting very well. 

And so here you were, during your lunch break, looking like a mess, bag under your eyes and still wet from the rain (your trips up and down the street for coffee runs not helping drying yourself off), your morale at its lowest..And…

"That'll be 3 dollars and 50 cents for the large latte with triple espresso shot, m'am."

Catastrophe. 

Proof that things could ALWAYS get worst. 

As you were looking through your bag, you couldn't find your wallet !

Did you leave it at home ?! Maybe. 

People at your work gave you the money to buy them coffee (and not a single tips, bunch of cheapskates). And you didn’t notice you were missing that oh so essential part of your daily life...Your credit card. Or any type of money. 

Damn it ! 

“Um, excuse me miss, that’s 3,50 please ?”

“Oh yes yes, um, you know what I just-” 

“Here, miss, you dropped this.” 

As you were about to explain that in fact, you didn’t need coffee (even if when you asked for it you might’ve mentioned it being a question of “life or death”), too embarrass to admit you didn’t have the money to buy it, a...very handsome man handed you a twenty dollars bill. 

You were a hundred percent sure this wasn’t yours. You never carry lose cash like this. A quick look to his kind deep blue eyes, and soft smile, and you realize...

Oh. Great. A total (very handsome) stranger took pity of you. 

You probably looked even worst than you felt. You were about to say this was a mistake, but before you could, he gave the bill to the barista, and left with a last smile to you, taking his own cup of coffee away with him. 

Damn. You didn’t have time to say “thank you”. He vanished as fast as he appeared, disappearing in the crowd of the busy coffee shop. 

“Here’s your change, m’am.” 

“Ah you know what ? Keep it buddy. Thanks for the coffee.” 

“Wow, thanks !” 

You were pretty sure that barista never had such a big tip, and it oddly made you feel better, to make someone else’s day like that. Your grandma did always say that you found true joy from helping others...

Oh, yeah, ok, you just helped someone out, why was the universe so angry at you ?! 

As you turned around and started to leave, almost at the exist of the shop, mood a little better after this nice encounter with a (again, handsome) stranger, and the barista, you see him. 

Him. One of the reason you sort of decided to take a gap year. 

Him. 

Your ex-boyfriend, Eric, who cheated on you with your friend Monica. Needless to say, it wasn’t a good memory. And you hadn’t seen neither him nor her since you left college, especially not since you heard they actually got together. 

Your FRIEND. With your BOYFRIEND. And it went on for a while, before you finally discovered it (that day was as shitty as today...). 

Oh. And of course Eric wasn’t alone. She, was there too. The one you thought was your friend, and who stabbed you in the back like that. Both of them discarding you like a dirty old sock. 

Great. Really. Awesome. This day was going from “bad” to “please kill me.” 

“(Y/N) !” 

He looks surprised to see you, although also a little pleased. And it makes you want to punch him in the face. You don’t care if it’s because he wished things ended another way, they both betrayed your truth and then never even tried to talk to you again afterward. 

You’re not sure you would’ve forgave them, but at least, it would’ve shown they still cared about you in a way. Nobody chooses who they’re going to fall in love with (that, you’d soon discover for yourself). But she was your best friend. And he was with you for over a year. 

She’s a little more awkward than him, and smiles, clearly embarrassed. You always knew she was a bit of a coward, if she wasn’t, she would’ve face you, right ? 

And that’s when it happened. The decision that would forever change your life.

In this great moment filled with despair and awkwardness.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw that nice stranger who paid for your coffee. The handsome one. He didn’t leave the shop, but instead went to seat at a table that was a little further away than the rest of them. 

His eyes were glued to his phone, and you thought : “Well, fuck it, all this can’t get any worst right ?”

You were sort of hoping that, since he had been nice with you once and offered you those twenty dollars without knowing you (although you were very aware it was probably just pity), maybe he could help again ? 

Maybe it was the fatigue, the fact you were getting sadder and sadder, that you had a terrible day, and that you just saw two people you loved and who threw you away like you meant nothing (oh but not before being super fake to you, pretending they WEREN’T cheating behind your back)...maybe it was a combination of all of that, that made you act crazy. 

But here you found yourself, sitting at that stranger’s table, and saying, as he looked up from his phone clearly surprised : 

“How are you guys ? As you can see, I’m great.” 

You don’t dare to look at the handsome stranger, and hope he’ll be too stunned to say anything, and you can make your ex-friend and ex-boyfriend feel embarrass enough they’ll leave quickly. But then Monica says something that makes your heart skip multiple beats : 

“You...You know Bruce Wayne ?!” 

You turn to the man who gracefully paid for your coffee, and your eyes go wide. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. How did you NOT recognize him ?! Of course. Chiseled face, beautiful blue eyes, a suit that was definitely worth your entire year’s salary, a very charming aura...

Your hazy mind full of “fuck this day” didn’t register that THE Bruce Wayne, was the one who helped you out. How did you miss that ? His face had been plastered everywhere in Gotham for the past year, since he came back to the city, in fact. 

You hear yourself wish with all your might to be struck by lightning this instant, as the two assholes who hurt you so much are looking at you expectantly and are not about to live (of course, they just met celebrity BRUCE WAYNE !! Could someone be as unlucky as you were today ?!)

And that’s when you hear a chuckle, a beautiful deep chuckle, and finally turn to look at Bruce. He smiles at you, and takes your hand, saying : 

“Honey, who are your friends ?” 

Your brain go full “ERROR 404″, not quite able to grasp the fact that THE Bruce Wayne just ran with what you were trying to do. How ? How was this possible ? You initially went to sit with him in the hope that Eric and Monica would see you were totally ok and with a hot date, not quite sure still yet how you ever thought this was a good idea and...

It was turning out alright ?! 

HOW ?! 

“Oh um, I’m..Eric. And this is my gir...This is Monica.” 

What a piece of shit. Not even brave enough to call her his “girlfriend” when he cheated on you with her for months and months. You glare at him, unable to stop this gut reaction. 

And that’s something Bruce caught. 

In fact, as soon as you sat down, avoiding looking at him and nervously looking at those two people, Bruce sort of knew you were in an uncomfortable situation. One that made you take an irrational decision. 

And oh, he didn’t like the look Eric and Monica gave you. Like they felt superior as they caught you in a bad moment. Bruce hated, people who thought they were superior to others... 

And you clearly seemed in distress and in need of help so...He ran with it. 

Bruce had to pretend to be someone he wasn’t enough that it felt natural, to run along with what your hazy mind thought was a good idea. 

“Nice to meet you, are you friends with-” 

Damn it. He realized he didn’t know your name. Quick thinking saved him, and he managed to keep his tone even, as to hide his hesitation : 

“My love ?” 

His hand around yours felt warm and reassuring, and you still couldn’t believe that, not only a total stranger, but THE Bruce Wayne was helping you out like that. Especially after you had such a bad day. 

Him calling you his “love” made your exes feel very awkward, and they shake their head “no”, suddenly pretending they’re very busy and have to meet up with someone. They leave the coffee shop, clearly stunned, whispering things to each others that you knew were probably : “how did she get a guy like him ?!”

You can’t help but glare at them some more...But then your hand feels cold again, and you realize Bruce let go off it. Well. Duh. Of course he would. 

You turn to him, your feature softening, and say : 

“Are you an angel ?” 

Ah yes. Your defense mechanism. “Humor”. 

He chuckles, and says : 

“Well, I’m afraid not. My butler would think this is very funny. But thank you.” 

Awkwardly, you rub your neck, your free hand nervously turning your cup of coffee clockwise in your palm. You don’t really know how to end this, what : “thanks for that” and leave ? 

“Thanks for the coffee. And for um...Saving my ass, just there.” 

He smiles, and wow hello white teeth and charming dimples ?! 

“You’re very welcome. They looked like they were jerks.” 

“Haha oh you have no idea.” 

“Glad I could help.” 

“Thanks again. Really. This means a lot, especially since we don’t know each others. Well, I know you. Everyone in Gotham does haha. And ok I’m going to leave now, my lunch break is almost over and I don’t want to make this even more awkward.” 

You start to rise up, but he holds you back by catching your sleeve, and says : 

“Actually miss…?”

“(Y/L/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Miss (Y/L/N), you are kind of saving my life right now.”

“…I am ?”

A flash blinds you. Not a lightning, a camera flash. You turn, just in time to see a guy hastily hiding a camera and running away. 

“What the...” 

“A paparazzi. Good timing, for once.” 

“Huh ?” 

You wish you had some witty come back, or would just know what to say. But you’re confused. And this has been a really weird day. 

“I am sorry if this will seem forward, or like I helped you wanting something in exchange. But I promise I will make it worth your while if you just sit back down and listen to me for a few minutes.” 

You sit back down. More because you’re unsure your leg can still support you in this moment, than because he asked you to. With a smile he continues : 

“Thank you. So. Let me explain a little, and again, sorry if this is too forward. If you don’t want to help of course, I would understand. I’m about to ask you something rather odd, I guess. And I’ll clear things up with paparazzis. I also promise I did not help you with your “friends”-”

“They’re not my friends.” 

“I figured that much. And I promise I didn’t help you with them and ran with whatever you were trying, just so I could ask you this.” 

“Ask me what ?” 

“Well, you see…it’s arranged marriage season.”

“What ?”

“Every year, every single rich family try to make me marry their single daughters. It’s a very tiring season, but I’ve never been able to avoid it…I thought about having a fake fiancee before but could never find the right person.”

What he says does not register with you. His clear proposal doesn’t hit your brain. And you just stare at him, waiting for him to keep going. But he doesn’t, and by the way he looks at you, you slowly starts to understand where he’s getting at. 

You gasp, now pretty sure this is all a dream (or a nightmare) and say : 

“And I’m the right person ?”

“Well, yes. You seem to be a...“normal” person.”

“…Thanks.”

“In that case it’s good. It’s very good. It means that if I’m dating you, a woman that has nothing to bring me, then it must be true love.”

“Wow, stop with the flatteries already mister Wayne, I can’t handle it…”

Ah, your slight wits are back. Good sign that you’re regaining your senses. Everything that happened in the last ten minutes still feel like a bad dream, but you’re back in reality now. 

“No no no, I didn’t mean it in a demeaning way ! But it’s just, you’re not rich, and you’re not famous or have political ties. You’re just a regular person. So they won’t think I’m trying to trick them, even if I am, do you know what I mean ?”

“Gotcha. My broke ass person cannot bring you any value, so it must be love and not just an arranged thing they can break. Cool.”

There’s a slight silence. And you find it a little fun, to play a little bit with the famous Bruce Wayne. He seemed so confident and cocky on TV, you never thought you’d be able to make him look so guilty. 

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

He says, clearly meaning it. But you shake your head and smile at him (and oh why does he feel his heart tightening slightly at your smile ?), and reassure him instantly (you feel a little bad, actually, to mess with him while he did just really do a huge favor to you while he had no obligations to) : 

“Haha, just messin’ around with ya Mster Wayne. I’m not bothered by it, it’s the truth. I’m really broke, and I don’t think you could find more “regular” than me right now. So, and because you really did save my ass from an extremely displeasing experience back there. And also because you allowed me to see those assholes’ face of surprise and “how did she manage that ?!”, tell me more about your plan, and let’s see if I can help you back.”

And so Bruce starts to explain to you how, every year, this beginning of Fall is the worst time ever, as it’s a moment where everyone seems to want to marry off their daughter. And of course, Bruce Wayne is a good “party”. 

The plan was fairly simple. You’d fake a relationship with him, so he could avoid all of this, and in exchange...Well. You’d gain a lot in exchange. 

This is how you started to really feel like you had fallen into a “romcom” by accident...You and Bruce, became an actual living trope. 

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

“And then when the “marrying season” is done, you can break it off.”

“I ?”

“Well yes, I can assure you you’ll gain quite a rep if you break up with me haha.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure you like that sort-of overly confident side of him. But you can see something behind his eyes, like a slight unsureness as he looks back at you, trying to see if you’ll agree or not.

“I don’t really need a “reputation”.”

Breaking up with THE Bruce Wayne himself. For sure people would talk about it a lot, and maybe it would help open some doors for you ? But you felt a little odd taking advantage of this like that. 

Seeing that he hadn’t convinced you quite yet, he adds : 

“Of course, I will pay you.” 

What kind of Pretty Woman sort of nonsense was this ?! You were about to protest when he added, realizing how he sounded : 

“I mean, you ARE doing me a great service. You ARE going to have to act, you know ? An...actual job ? And I will be honest with you, it won’t be easy, to find yourself in the public eye. I think it definitely justify a salary.” 

Put that way, you had to admit that, well, yeah it sort of did. Especially since you knew how crazy tabloids were about Bruce Wayne. Becoming his “girlfriend” would definitely put you on the front lines. 

“And it would truly help me tremendously.” 

Your grandma always said it : “True joy comes out from helping others !” So. What if you benefit from it a little ? If it helps you financially, and you can get a little network out of it ? First rule of Alchemy (what a weeb) : “equivalent exchange” ! Plus, he did really help you with your coffee, but also with Eric and Monica so...

And hey, this gap year was meant to help you find what and who you wanted to be. Help you go through this little twenty-something crisis. And this ? Living a literal romantic comedy cliche by faking being someone’s girlfriend ? Well, it definitely felt like the kind of adventure that could help you figure things out.  

With a smile, you finally nod and shake his hand, not knowing quite yet in which mess you actually put yourself into...

Briefing. 

Like every “secret mission”, this one too needed a “briefing”. 

A little meeting to put all the rules down, and the goals too. 

And here you were, feeling very out of place in a huge conference room in the biggest and tallest building in Gotham : “Wayne Tower”.  

The concierge stared at you for a very long time, when you said you were there to see Mister Wayne. No “nobody” like you ever called for his boss. 

Suspicious, as it was his job, he called security on you...Until it was finally cleared up that you DID have a meeting with Bruce Wayne ! 

Both the concierge, and the security guys, stared at you as you left to take the elevators they indicated to you, wondering who the hell had the kind of credentials to go all the way up there to see their boss ?! They didn’t recognize you from anywhere, not a model, not a famous politician or CEO, just...A regular person ? 

That was odd. And they noticed, it was odd. Which you assumed was what Bruce was aiming for, but it felt so awkward, to walk through this huge hall under their scrutiny. 

You finally arrived on the right floor, and oh look, some more staring. 

From his secretary, this time. She was used to see women coming to see her boss. But they’d usually wear Prada, and have plunging necklines full of pearls and fanciness. They weren’t...like you. 

You felt like it was easy, to know that you were just a “normal” person. You were definitely not wearing any designer clothes, and you were pretty sure the way you carried yourself made you super obvious. 

Hence all the staring. You could clearly see in her eyes, that she was wondering who the hell you were... 

She had her answer when Bruce came out of his office, and made a gesture as if he was going to throw his arm around your waist, and kiss you (which made you downright panic). But then, he looked awkwardly at his secretary, and instead just shook your hand. 

Something that DID NOT go unnoticed by his secretary. 

You saw how her eyes widen, and how she clearly hitched to take her phone out and call everyone...and you realized Bruce did this awkward thing because he knew his secretary, and her tendency to be a little gossipy. 

You’d discover later, in fact, that he hired her entirely because he knew if he said something, she would pick up on it and it would help him control rumors and such. Clever. 

For the moment though, he took you to a large conference room with huge windows. 

“I’m sorry for the weird “hello” back there, I wanted Shirley to think I was embarrassed to display affection to you in front of her. Usually, I do not mind at all. So doing it would make her think that-”

“I’m someone special to you.” 

“Exactly !” 

He smiles widely as you understood his plan (not sure how you felt about it, then again, that’s why you were here for, making sure you knew where both of you stood in all this), and then tells you he’ll be back in a few minutes. 

You have time to feel anxious and stressed before he finally comes back. 

“Sorry for the wait.” 

“Oh no, I bet you’re a busy man.” 

“Yes well. Anyway. Let’s get to it shall we ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ok. So. I thought we’d settle sort of a little contract, so neither of us ever feel uncomfortable ?” 

“Sounds good, mister Wayne.” 

“Yes well first, please call me Bruce.” 

“Only if you call me (Y/N).” 

Oh and you two were still on the path of “romcom cliches”, with this conversation. He smiles, nods, and continues : 

“Ok, then I thought we could-” 

And so your fake relationship started, with some little ground rules. Like he could only kiss you after you gave him permission, if you ever felt overwhelmed everything would be called off, etc etc. 

Most rules were in your favor, to be honest. And WOW the paycheck he was going to give you for this little farce...Hey, maybe this gap year was finally gonna get interesting ?

Meeting the Little Buddy. 

It was sort of necessary. By then, Dick had been his son, officially, for a few months. He wasn’t calling him “dad” yet (and Bruce didn’t particularly want him to, at the time...ah but everything change one day, right ?), but they were already family. 

And it was a needed step. 

It wasn’t in the little “contract” you made, and honestly you could’ve refused to meet him but...Well, you liked kids. In another life, it felt like you could’ve been a teacher (A/N : AH, like in this story ;) : “Can you be my dad’s girlfriend, please ?” ). 

And you’d feel awkward, to fake a relationship and not ever meet his boy. 

The first time he saw you, it was at the Wayne Tower, and his eyes widened as he exclaimed : 

“Wow you’re so pretty ! Are you Bruce’s girlfriend ? You’re too good for him, you know.” 

You could feel your heart melt, how adorable this little guy was, right ? You chuckled, and almost full on laughed as you saw how vexed Bruce was by the comment. 

Not that he thought he was too good for you, no, he was just a little unhappy his son was stealing the show, and thought he couldn’t land someone like you...Oh but that, you couldn’t guess at the time, of course. 

“Nice to meet you, Dick. I’m (Y/N). And...I’m not really his girlfriend.” 

“Can you be mine then ?” 

You laugh again. You and Bruce had decided to tell him the truth, Bruce assuring you that kid was good at pretending too. You answer : 

“No, I’m saving him from marriage proposal.” 

“Oooooh !” 

Good at pretending. Dick had no idea what you were on about, but he was very good at acting as if he knew. 

It’s only way later, that he finally got it. By then, he already accepted you as : “his dad’s girlfriend”, and even knowing the truth, there was no way to change his mind. And to be honest, out of everyone, little Dick Grayson was probably the most aware of what the situation truly was. 

He had a knack, to notice how people felt. 

A “family” outing.

Two months in, and it was going GREAT. Faking a relationship was actually pretty easy. All you had to do was hanging out with him (and he was very nice to hang out with), and when a paparazzi was around, quickly kiss his cheek, or hold his hand, or let him put his hand in your hair...All those cute things new couples do. 

Today was one such small date. 

You could see Bruce was nervous, though.

After hanging around with him that many times, you started to know him a little better. Started to know he wasn’t really that persona he portrayed publicly.

He was actually quite a dork. What a pity, nobody else would ever know his real self...Yet, it made you happy you were one of the few in on the secret.

“Ok, out with it mister, what’s up ?”

He looks at you with such surprise in his eyes, as if it was the first time someone guessed what he was feeling...and, well, yes. It was. It was the first time someone who wasn’t Alfred got it. Someone realized something was on his mind. And asked him about it, didn't just ignore and move on. Actually cared to know. 

“I-Um...”

“Well ? Come on, I think literally nothing can surprise me by now, given you know, I’m faking a relationship with a billionaire, and it’s like, my job now.”

He smiles, and he couldn't possibly know how soft his look was, as he gazed at you.

“I...well, people don’t quite believe in us because-”

“WHAT ?! With all the “dates” and kisses and lovey dovey shit we did ?!”

He chuckles at your reaction, loving how honest you always were, and adds :

“The problem apparently is that you weren’t seen with my son yet, so many don’t believe we’re serious.”

“Oh...”

You met Dick. Because it felt like a necessary step to yours and Bruce’s scheme. And you knew he knew this was all fake...But neither of you wanted to confuse the boy in any way so he was kept mostly out of the plan.

“I talked to him, and it’s actually really up to wether you’re comfortable with it or not. I know he wasn’t part of our contract, and I should’ve probably thought about it, I’m sorry. But um...If you’re ok with it, we could..Do things with him, too ?”

Bruce is really nervous; And you’re pretty sure no one but you (and maybe Alfred) ever saw him like that. It’s kind of...sweet. But you let the silence linger for too long and he hurries to say :

“You really don’t have to ! It’s ok if they don’t think we’re that serious and I get some proposals. I can manage ! You’re still a great help right now. It was just an idea. Dick is a very social kid, he would go along with anything and loves to do activities outside. He would be fine. But if you’re not then we can-”

“No. No no it’s...It’s ok Bruce. The few time I saw him, Dick did seem absolutely a peach to be around. And I always have fun with you, so sure, let’s organize a little something and show those bastards we’re totally real.”

You chuckle a little, your smile and carefree face making his heart skip a beat, for some reasons...Bruce also decided to ignore how happy it made him, to know you were always glad to be with him, and instead, he smiled and settled a date.

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

And here you were. In one of Gotham’s biggest park, opening a basket full of delicious sandwiches made by the one and only Alfred. Pretending to have a great family outing.

“Hey, hey look !”

Dick was absolutely amazing, at acting as if you were really a thing. As if you were really a “family”. Right now, he was doing flips and cartwheels, demanding your attention with avidity.

Bruce made sure to always hide his face from pictures (he was GREAT at noticing where paparazzis were hiding, a life of practice, you assumed), as he wanted to keep as much as he could his son’s privacy (especially after he made all the headlines when he lost his parents).

It was quite adorable. And...You were really having fun.

Dick was such a lively kid, and he was full of talents. The food was good, and it was so comfortable around Bruce. It felt so natural.

This wasn't all that bad. To fake being a family. A good use of your gap year, really. 

You purposefully decided to ignore the glint in the boy’s eyes. The way you sort of suspected for him, this was getting real, and not only pretend.

You and Bruce purposefully ignored it, actually. And you both felt shitty for it. Because not only were you risking to break that little boy’s heart when it was all over but...It was too hard to accept that maybe, maybe he was right.

And that all of this ? Might’ve not been as fake as you’d love to repeat yourself.

First Official outing. 

First gala. You were terrified. So far all you had to do was hang out with Bruce in the afternoon, there and there. It mainly consisted in him buying you coffee, and keeping the addiction to caffeine real, while talking about anything that would come to your mind. The conversations between you two was always fluid and pleasant. 

Or you’d go out with him and Dick, to do some fun things like mini-golf or catching a movie. Nothing too big and scary. It was mainly just you guys, no one else. 

It seemed like he knew where the paparazzis would be (most likely because he was “anonymously” tipping them off himself), and he’d take you on random short dates when he had time in between his work, slowly fueling the rumors Bruce was not a heart to steal anymore. 

And that he was dating a “commoner” ! (He hated this name for you, while you really didn’t mind that much). 

And this gala, was what made it completely official. Finally. It was your idea, to take things “slow”, and hang out with him and his son BEFORE hanging out in public areas like this. 

It was clever, really. To make it seems like you were trying to “hide” your relationship by being low-key, to then finally announce everything in public like that, at such an event. 

Bruce went to get a drink for the both of you, and you were looking around you, horrified at the mere idea that someone would come talk to you. 

But for some reasons, nobody seemed to dare. Maybe Bruce made sure that people would leave you alone ? Even as if you were clearly the talk of the evening, all eyes on you, and not even trying to be subtle ? 

You knew he did the same with little Dickie. That he made sure he was safe from the paparazzi and that no unsolicited journalist would come around him.

Thinking of it, where was the little one ? Usually, according to Bruce, whenever there was a gala he would spend his entire time near the food table, eating as much as he could, and he would come home feeling nauseous because of it...Haha sounded like Dick alright. That kid was so-

Oh oh.

Who was that sleazy looking gal talking to him ? He seemed so uncomfortable, yet too polite to brush her off...Oh no, she wasn’t one of them, was she ?

Without thinking twice about it, wether it was your place to do what you were about to do or not, you resolutely walked towards them.

“-Think it’s because he relates to you ? As both of you lost your parents in horrific situations, you know ?”

“I-I don’t know m’am.”

When you saw Dick’s distressed face, and his eyes slowly filling with tears, there was no doubt in your mind.

This woman was not supposed to be there, and was definitely not supposed to talk to that child...

This woman was a - shiver of disgust- tabloid journalist.

Your blood boiled as you saw her take a picture of the teary eyed Dickie, and you were standing protectively in front of him before you could even think about it. When you felt the boy clutch to your sleeve, hiding behind you and holding on for dear life, you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

“Can I ask you why you’re talking to that boy, please ?”

“What, it’s illegal to talk to fellow guests now ?”

“Lady, you’re well in your thirties. He’s eight. You have no right talking to him. Not only is it weird, but I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, and pray tell, what am I doing, lovey ?” 

“You’re trying to get a story out of him. And you should be ashamed of yourself. He’s eight ! And from what I heard, you were asking some very disgusting things back there !” 

“I-”

“Shut up.”

Your words came out harsh and determined, and the woman was so shocked she stayed silent for a while. You crouch down to Dick’s level, and ask : 

“Are you ok, my little buddy ?” 

He nods weakly, and then burst into tears as he launches himself in your arms, clinging to you tightly. You turn your head towards the woman, glaring at her so fiercely she doesn’t dare to take a picture of the scene, even as she knows she could sell them for a golden price. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself. He’s just a child !” 

The woman was about to say something else, something you knew would fuel your anger further, when Bruce arrived, and it was clear from his face that he was not happy. 

A quick look to you holding his crying son in your arms, and to the lady with the camera in her hands, and he understand what happened. With a cold voice you never heard him use before, he says : 

“I suggest you leave the area now, before I force you to.” 

There was something almost scary, in his demeanor. Almost like...No. Impossible. In any case, you didn’t worry about it much, drawing soothing circles with your hand on Dick’s back, trying to calm him. 

People around quickly stopped staring as they met Bruce’s assassin glare. It was not secret, that he was very protective of his son. And of his new girlfriend, apparently. 

You picked the little boy in your arms (Dick, at the time, was still so tiny), and Bruce comes closer, trying to soothe him too. And it really looked like all this was real...

Dick fell asleep in Bruce’s arms shortly after that, and was still there when it was time for the gala official pictures. Not wanting to wake him up, for once, Bruce allowed people to photograph the boy, as long as they did not frame his face. 

He laid his free hand on the small of your back, and just like you got used to those past months, you pretend to be head over heels for him and have one of your own arm around his waist.  

“Would you please allow me to kiss you on the cheek, for the cameras ?”

His question is so sweet, softly whispered in your ears. And you felt like a tease tonight, and maybe a little tipsy too. You tell him : 

“On the cheek only ? Let’s give them a show no ? Let them forget about what happened with Dick.”

Of course, you’re only joking, but there’s a light in Bruce’s eyes you haven’t seen before and...It disappears quickly. He chuckles, of that low chuckles that would charm anyone in the world, and says :

“I don’t want to force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to. Actually kissing me, I realize, might be too much.”

You know he caught on your joke, but you can’t brush off that light in his eyes that ignited when you suggested to kiss him...You don’t know why, and it feels you’re not controlling your own words, as you hear yourself say :

“Oh because kissing you would be such a horrible thing wouldn’t it ? Oh my, you’re only one of the handsomest man in Gotham, a rather attractive fella, how could I handle kissing you ? So disgusting !”

Your tone is teasing, and a little bit challenging. He catches on that, too. He answers : 

“But I am merely here to serve. I will do as you wish. You only have to say the words.” 

His smile fills your vision. His face. And the way he softly holds your waist, even as his other arms is carrying his son (the man was BUILT). And you think...Well, fuck it ! It was time for the first (fake) kiss, right ? 

Right here, in front of the cameras, where everyone was seeing you. Making it go full circle. Making it “official”. 

“Kiss me then, if you dare.” 

You simply say. Releasing a breath you were unaware you were keeping in. And he feels his heart squeeze, and as if he’s sweating a bit. When was the last time he was nervous about kissing a woman ? 

He couldn’t remember. 

And then he kisses you, the flashes of cameras slowly fading away as his lips melt onto yours. 

Wow. What a perfect, and nice, first kiss. 

As fake as it might be.

Your room. 

Your room at Wayne Manor was bigger than your entire apartment. 

You and Bruce decided that sometimes, so you wouldn’t raise any suspicion, you’d sleep at the Manor. Paparazzi were so on top of everything, it would seem weird if he was in a “committed relationship” and you never slept at his place. 

So Alfred settled a room for you. 

Oh. Alfred ! You met him not long ago, and he was the best ! 

It felt like he could magically guess what you wanted when you wanted it, and magically appeared with that warm cup of tea you craved, or that meal you’ve been thinking about all day. 

But beyond that, he was genuinely nice and made sure to make you as comfortable as possible. He showed you around, and his conversation was so pleasant ! 

You could actually see a lot of Bruce in him. Or, rather, it was evident that Alfred had raised Bruce most of his life, because they had a lot of similar mannerism, and were both kind and caring (Ah, imagine if Superman knew what you thought of Bruce, how crazy it’d sound to him eh ? But of course, that you’d discover way WAY later). 

You never went to explore much when it was time to go to bed, too afraid to get lost. This place was huge, and you never quite had a good sense of orientation. 

One could only wonder, what would you have discovered if you ever dared to wake up during the night, and explore his home ?

Build a Bear. 

Sometimes, Bruce really had to wrack his brain for original date ideas. Ever since he came back to Gotham, his dating days consist of pretending to sleep with every model in the World. 

He’d take them to fashion shows, to galas, to charity events...All very public places, unsuitable for a “serious” relationship like he was hoping to make yours and his pass for. 

Enter : Clever little Dickiebird, who always had an idea (and who might’ve been the best wingman someone like the Batman needed...that, of course, he’d discover it way, WAY later) :

“You can take her to a build a bear !” 

“Build...a bear ?” 

“Yeah, you know. You go and you make your own teddy bear !” 

“I do know, I took you to get Chester - the name of Dick’s favorite plushie toy now, and maybe with which he slept-. But...For a date ?” 

“What ? It’s cute and intimate !” 

“Huh ?” 

It has been a long time, since Alfred Pennyworth had to hold his laughter in that hard, and try to stay impeccably neutral. And there, faced with his master Bruce, who was known as the “ultimate womanizer”, the “perfect playboy”, and who was currently taking advice from his eight years old son...It was really hard to keep a straight face. 

It was also incredibly adorable. Especially how Bruce seemed to genuinely listen to the little one, unaware that he seemed actually way too interested for things just to be for his “fake relationship” to be more convincing. 

Not that Alfred was going to tell Bruce anything. 

“Dick, you know (Y/N) isn’t really my girlfriend, right ?” 

The way the boy talked about taking you to a date, felt to Bruce like he was forgetting this was all fake. And it was important to remind him.

But Dick had to invoke all the efforts in the world to not roll his eyes as to say : “sure she isn’t”, by now, it was oh so obvious to everyone but you and Bruce that there was a very real thing forming between you two. 

Instead, he said : 

“But you’re suppose to make the public really believe it right ? If you take her to build a bear, I can assure you they will think you guys are the real deal.” 

Bruce pondered this for a little bit, and realized that his son was right. It did seem like a cute and intimate date to bring your girl to, even if she was your fake girl...

Ah. Bruce forgot his own words. “Dick is great at pretending.” He is. He really is. Just like right now, he was pretending his idea was completely innocent, while he knew it would bring you two ever so closer. 

That whenever you’d see those bears you were going to build in your home, you’d think of one another. And remember fondly of the memory. 

And oh. Oh that boy was right. 

Your bear was sitting proudly on your couch, and every time you saw it, you remembered how clumsy Bruce had been, filling his own bear up. And how cute he was, carefully thinking of his options. 

And every time Bruce saw his own bear, that Alfred, for some reason, settled in the Batcave on the “trophy shelves” (and for some reason Bruce didn’t take it off of it...), he couldn’t help but think how he had genuine fun that day. 

Genuine fun, for the first time in what felt like ages. And how your smiling and giggling face didn’t seem to leave his mind, whenever he saw that bear...

Conniving traitors. 

“We both agree, he’s in love with her right ? He’s just too dense to realize it.” 

“Oh yes, young Master Richard, he definitely is. And he is dense, at times.” 

“Should we do anything ?”

“No more than what you’re already doing.” 

“Which is ?” 

“Which is continuing to push them in the...Right direction.”

“Oh ! I get it ! I’ll keep going Al’!” 

“And I’m sure you’ll make miracles, young master.” 

Dick’s smile to the old butler was so pure and happy, that Alfred had a hard time keeping his composure once again. 

And oh. Oh how he wish they were right, and that his Master Bruce would FINALLY allow himself to be happy... 

Rumors and Truth 

Bruce was just a tiny bit older than you. 24, according to his wikipedia page. 

And you couldn't help but be a little jealous, as you were looking at the page to re-enroll yourself in Gotham’s university, knowing he was done with college.

Then again, he was obviously a genius and would’ve been done faster than you anyway, even if you were the same age, since he finished his PhD just the year before, while most people don't even START their doctorate until they're around 23/24. 

Mmmm. Made you think. Was this just yet another rumors about the man ? 

Maybe not, after all it was proven he started college at age 14, and in Ivy Leagues ones, all across the world. 

From Cambridge, to Oxford, without forgetting La Sorbonne (A/N : by the way, this is canon haha, Bruce really did start college that early and went to many different places, and honestly, is anyone surprised ?). 

This wasn't really something you absolutely couldn't believe, compared to other crazy rumors about him. And you knew he WAS smart. 

By then, you couldn't count how many things were circulating about him, and how hard it was to know the truth from just plain old rumors. 

He had over a thousand lovers, he had MORE than one PhD (impossible, right ?), he had died once but survived somehow, he was part of a cult, he often lost his status as a billionaire because he gave so much money to charities and such, but his companies meddled in so many areas that his bank account was always filled more and more…

Honestly that last part didn't really surprise you. You saw him gave his money away to things he cared about (like education and medical care) without a second thoughts, so the fact he constantly oscillated between "billionaire" and "multi-millionaire" didn't really surprise you, not when you knew him like you did now. 

You totally trusted the rumors that said that by now, he gave away more than he currently owned. It sounded like him alright…But how to know the truth from the downright crazy ? Did he really have a PhD or was this just an addition to how special and different Bruce Wayne was in Gotham ? What kind of PhD did he have anyway ? 1000 lovers, really ?!

So many questions. And not a lot of answers. Even if you grew closer (as friends, of course), Bruce was still somewhat of a mystery to you. 

He never really tried to dismiss rumors, even the bad ones (unless they touched his son). Which made you wonder if they were true or not. And you really, really, for some reasons, wanted to know more about him...

“Is something the matter ?” 

He asks. Oh goddamn you, day dreaming on one of your regular “coffee date”. 

You shake your head, sipping on your drink and say : 

“Was just thinking about...Tabloids.” 

“Ah.” 

He frowns. For understandable reasons.

“I was just thinking about wether some rumors were true or not.” 

“What do you think is not true ?” 

“I don’t really know, and you never really say a rumor is false so it’s hard to know.” 

“Do you want to know anything in particular ?” 

Bruce knows it’s dangerous, to let you enter his private life like that. There’s a reason, after all, why he never dismisses any rumors. 

It helped build his fake persona, and take away any suspicions that he might be the infamous Batman. 

But he felt weak, around you. As if he just wanted to please you, no matter what. Sometimes, he felt dangerously close to just tell you : “ask me anything and I’ll tell you the truth”, even if it meant revealing his night activities...

Crazy, right ? 

He knew it was. And that he shouldn’t let it happen. Yet here he was, asking if you wanted to know something. Craving your attention. It felt so unlike him. But...You seemed to unlock a certain part of him. 

The one that didn’t die with his parents, and remained hidden. The one that was the old little Bruce, full of hope, honesty and happiness. Full of wish for the future...Even if he knew there was none. 

“How was college, for you ?” 

You hear yourself asking, really wondering if it was true he was 14 when he started, and if it was...How different you guys were, right ? You were 21 right now, and taking a gap year after two years of college...When he was your age, he had already finished a master (or even maybe two). 

"My college years were actually pretty boring, and unlike some rumors say, weren't particularly wild. I was really young."

"Ah, I heard the rumors."

"Those are true, I'm afraid haha."

"Afraid ? You're a genius !"

Which is why you found, more and more, his "himbo" persona to be odd. WHat was Bruce Wayne trying to hide ? Mmm…

Bruce recognized that look in your eyes. The look of someone who was onto something, and it was too frightening to let it happen. So he said :

"Yes well, I feel I missed a lot, during those years. Which is why I make it up now hahaha !"

His boisterous laughter seemed genuine, and totally fooled you. You couldn't always be on top of everything eh ? And this, did answer your question about his himbo persona…Oh, Bruce was good.

And he knew it. He trained for years, to make sure nobody would ever even suspect him to be Batman.

But he had to be careful with you. He knew it. It was obvious. You weren't that easy to fool…

The Day Batman saved you. 

The fact he had to be careful with you was confirmed not long after. When, as Batman, he came to your rescue.

He should’ve known, that even with a voice changer, and a mask covering most his face, plus a demeanor that was completely different from his usual one, you’d still get suspicious...He should’ve known because he, by then, knew you quite well. 

But, what ? Was he suppose to just let you get mugged ? 

He couldn’t. 

Even if in the grand scheme of things, it would’ve been better, and he would definitely intervene if it got too rough...He couldn’t. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt, or feeling distressed.

He knew this was stupid. That he shouldn’t get so attached. That muggings weren’t really his area of expertise, that to stop them, he had to hit the big bosses. He knew. Small thugs weren’t his target. He had a much bigger vision. And rationally, he should be somewhere else right now. 

Yet he couldn’t resolve himself to. Because, and that was a dangerous thought and feeling, he was in l- 

“Why are we spying on your girlfriend ?” 

Dick’s voice takes him out of his reveries, good. It WAS getting dangerous. Still keeping you in his field of vision (you were slowly going back to your apartment, a few minutes still, and he could leave to do other things knowing you were safe and sound in your home), he answered :  

“We’re not spying on her, we’re making sure she’s safe. And she’s not my girlfriend, you know that.” 

“Oh yeah ? We’ve been following your “totally not girlfriend” since the night started, awfully looks to me like we’re um, you know, stalking her.”

“We’re not.” 

“Suuuuuuuuuure.” 

Bruce gives an annoyed look to his son, who had way too big a smug face right now, and says : 

“The night is calm, if something comes up we’ll go. But right now, it’s alright. And it has been made official, that she and I are a couple.” 

“Fake couple.” 

“Fake one to us, not to the public eye.” 

“Ooooooh !” 

Connections were quickly made in the boy’s head, and he understood why they were following her. After all, this was Gotham. And if THE Bruce Wayne had ONE known lover...Well, it was easy to know it’d attract some nasty business. 

Dick was about to make a smug remark of which he had a talent for, when it happened. He pointed at you, fear in his eyes, and Bruce focused your way again. 

“Stay here.” 

“What why ?! I wanna help her too !” 

“Because she’s too smart not to put two and two if she sees you with me. She knows us in our day lives. She’ll recognize us for sure, if we’re together.”

“Oh...”

“Just stay still, ok ?” 

“Ok.” 

Without a second thought, Bruce jumped down in the street down below, under Dick’s worried eyes. If anything happened to you, he knew his dad would never be the same again. 

And he knew he couldn’t bear to lose yet another person he cared about. Even loved. Yes. Yes Dick loved you, as if you really were part of his family...

The months of “faking” family outings made it so. Your worst fear happened. Dick was getting attached, hardcore. And he really hoped you and Bruce would figure out you were actually in love with each others before the end of your “contract”, and before his sometimes very dense dad would decide to let you go...

For now though, he was anxiously looking at Bruce making his way to you, after he spotted a suspicious group of men genuinely stalking you. 

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

“Hey pretty girl, can we talk ?” 

You stop in your track, turning around, cursing yourself for not having the instinct to just take off running. Oh. But you can see at least one of them has a gun. You can’t run faster than a bullet... 

“Ah it is you, isn’t it ?” 

You don’t answer, knowing what they mean. Bruce sort of warned you against this. But you didn't take his warnings seriously, and here you were, going home at night, something he definitely told you not to do. 

You just couldn’t sleep that night, and needed a walk...And here you were. 

“You’re gonna come nicely with us, right ?” 

“I dont’ think so.” 

Uh ? You’re pretty sure that weird robotic voice wasn’t yours. Even if that’s exactly what you wanted to say. And that’s...oh wow. 

That’s when you see him. Batman. 

Immediately, the atmosphere grow even tenser. And you can see the thugs who wanted to take you with them fearfully looking at him. 

“This has nothing to do with you Batman, leave us alone, we didn’t do anything wrong !” 

“It has everything to do with me. Leave.” 

“We have to-You don’t understand. We have to take her to-” 

“Nowhere. Leave.” 

Even if he was protecting you, you had to admit that, that dude was frightening. He had his back to you, and even then, he looked so intimidating and tall and broad...

Bruce was tall and broad too. But he was soft and sweet, not scary at all.

“OH MY GOD LOOK OUT !!” 

One of the thug had a gun pointed at Batman. Right at his head. He didn’t have the time to enforce his helmet yet, and if he shot around his mouth, he was done for...

A rock coming out of nowhere hit the thug right in the face. 

Coming out of nowhere ? To you, maybe. But Bruce knew that this was little Dickie’s doing. “Robin always has Batman’s back”, he said often...

For the time being, the one taking his gun out being knocked out triggered a “fight or flight” reaction in the others, and as two took off running (and were mysteriously hit by rocks too, knocking them out), three decided to attack Batman. 

Bad move. 

Very bad move. 

In a matter of second, it was over. 

He turns to you, and it’s hard to discern any emotions with his lighted eyes and mask. He asks : 

“Are you alright, (Y/N) ?” 

“How-How do you know my name ?”

“Well, you’re Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend, right ?” 

There was no hesitation in Bruce’s voice as, as soon as he pronounced your name, he knew he messed up...but he trained himself to think quickly. And this “fake” relationship was a perfect excuse, of course. Everyone in Gotham knew about you two, by now. 

“Oh, right, ok.” 

You seemed a bit disappointed, and Bruce couldn’t quite understand why...

It only hits him later, as he was going to bed, why you looked like that. And it made hi heart beat widely. Because he was pretty sure that it was because you sort of hoped Bruce talked to “Batman about you...Oh...Oh this was getting dangerous. 

But of course, Bruce had a reputation to be the one funding Batman’s gadget (a really good cover for the fact he was actually Batman). So they’d know each others...

But right there and then, as he just saved you, you felt so stupid, hoping that Bruce would’ve talked to you to Batman. Why would he ? How the hell would your name even show up in a conversation between Bruce Wayne and Batman (but oh, if you knew you occupied his thoughts many times, and who he really was, maybe you’d feel less bad ? It was, in a way, Bruce talking about you to Batman, right ?). 

You smiled weakly and shyly at this impressive being in front of you, and thanked him one more time. He nods, smiling too (oh ?), and bid you farewell. 

Ah. But Bruce didn’t notice your eyes go wide, as he took off with his grappling hook, and you caught the side of his face in a certain light...

Fake ?

"You know, he smiles more when you’re around.” 

Dick tells you once, you look at him curiously, as he continues : 

“And before you say it’s “all pretend”, let me tell you there’s a difference between this smile and the fake one. Look, that’s how he pretend.” 

On that note, he looked at you and smiled widely, exaggeratedly, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. And it was so like how Bruce portrayed himself in public, that it made you chuckle. 

It also scared you a little. 

Not because there was a possibility Bruce did smile more around you, but because as that little boy was being silly, and now imitating his adopted father further and oh so perfectly...You felt a surge of love for him. 

And that wasn’t good. 

Because the day, which was coming soon now, you’d have to “dump” Bruce Wayne, you wouldn’t be able to see that little one again...why would you ? 

It’d be too weird, right ? Someone like you, once “broken up”, would have no reasons or ways to ever interact with billionaire Bruce Wayne or his son ever again. 

That little boy was the sweetest child you ever met. He suffered a great loss so early in his life, and there he was, making you laugh and being nice by saying you made his dad genuinely smile. 

It hurt, to know that one day, you wouldn’t see him again. That he’d grow up, and you wouldn’t know what he became. 

You were sure he was destined to become a great man, and you wished you could see it...No. No this was bad. This was so bad. 

“I mean it you know.” 

His little voice brings your attention back to him. 

“I think you make him happy. With you, it feels he can be himself. He laughs more, really laughs. And it’s often that he tells me “oh this makes me think of (Y/N)” and calls you. He doesn’t need to call you for the fake relationship thing, right ? Yet he does. That means something. I think he likes you.” 

You shake your head, smiling at this little boy’s wild imagination. No way. No way was THE Bruce Wayne falling for you in any way. Were you guys becoming real friends ? Sure. But it definitely stopped there. Right ?

Oh but if only you knew Dick had a knack to see this kind of things, and to guess people’s real feelings. If only you knew, that yes, Bruce was starting to fall for you...It would make the next episode way less painful for you. 

“Catch me dead before you catch me catching feelings” - You to yourself, a few days before starting a fake relationship with THE Bruce Wayne. 

“Fuck you” - You to yourself, almost six months in faking a relationship with Bruce Wayne. 

This was...bad. 

Soon enough, you and Bruce will break this entire deal off, you will “dump” him, and you’d go on your separate ways. And...

This was bad. 

Why ? WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST HANG OUT WITH THIS AMAZING CHARMING MAN AND THAT’S IT ? Why ? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GET OUT THERE AND CATCH....

Catch...

Catch those body shivering “feelings”. 

Not just for Bruce though. But for the little buddy too. 

You felt yourself fall for Bruce slowly, and as if it was completely out of your control. But you also felt like if Dick wasn't in your life anymore...You wouldn’t feel whole again. Like he was sort of your son, too, by then. 

This was so bad. How did you get yourself in this mess ? What was that FIRST rule you gave yourself when all this started ? 

Right, “Catch me dead before I catch feelings”. Damn it. 

Thanks GOD the “marrying season” was finally coming to an end. Both you and Bruce settled you’d wait a few weeks after it to make your break-up official, so nobody would be tempted to cancel any wedding plans to try and force their daughter onto him.  

And it couldn’t happen soon enough. 

Being around him now, faking being in love, was torture to you. 

Kissing him knowing he felt nothing. Holding his hand in public while you knew in your heart he was just putting a show still. And hanging out with him feeling that you had absolutely no chance of this ever evolving...

It hurt.

It hurt so bad. 

And you were slowly hoping you never agreed to being his fake girlfriend. Being a living cliche, the money and the fame were REALLY not worth the heartache. 

So not worth it...

The end...?

"Well mister Wayne, it has truly been a pleasure to be your "girlfriend" haha. Seriously, I had a lot of fun, and a little revenge on life. You know, I saw Eric and Monica not long ago. They tried to become my friends again, knowing I was with you. It was great, to ignore them like they ignored them. You’re right, they’re really not worth it. And honestly I still don’t think we’re even after they hurt me like they did but...In the end, they looked so outraged. Win-win, really. Thank you very much."

"Thank YOU, for playing along and doing more than you bargained for. You really saved me a lot of hassle and…I had fun, too."

Your taxi was pulling in front of the Manor, and honked as he parked. Clearly, not a very patient driver.

"Well, see you around, Bruce ! If you're not too busy, you know…I kinda consider you a friend by now ?"

"Me, too."

Bruce lied. A "friend" ? No, it couldn't cover and explain all his feelings for you. A "friend". How ridiculous.

As you walked away, giving him a last smile, Bruce felt a pang in his chest.

A painful and yet happy one. A longing one. One that told him that "friend" wasn't what he wanted to be…Not anymore…

But was there really a future for you and him ? Probably not. His nightly activities would get in the way. You deserve more than the life he could give you. Being his "fake" girlfriend, you only took part in his public matters. Part in a fake world full of nice things, that was far from his actual life.

"Friend", he wished he could be more to you than this.

But he knew.

He knew that for your own good, he had to stay away. And oh, oh how he wished he could be more than just your "friend" or "fake" boyfriend. 

Yet he watched as you walked away. Without doing anything. 

He watched you leave, and felt the hole in his heart expand a little more. But didn’t try to catch you, or stop you from leaving. 

And your taxi was already far, now. On its way to Gotham. 

"So you gonna run after her oooor…??"

Dick's little voice takes him out of his reveries.

“Mmm ?” 

“(Y/N). Are you gonna run after her, or stand there looking like a sad puppy for the rest of your life ?” 

“I do not look like a sad puppy.” 

“Yes you do, and you know it. Come on dad, why are you doing this ?” 

This was the first time Dick called him dad. Which didn’t go unnoticed to Bruce. It meant...It meant something was definitely happening. He felt it in his heart. Something that was dangerous. Oh so dangerous. 

Hope. Like the “old Bruce” had. Hope. Full of it. Before his parents were murdered in front of him, for no reasons. Meaningless. 

Hope. 

To have a family again. Ah. But...Being with you was impossible. And Dick would be enough. He would. He was already enough... 

“How long are ya gonna torture yourself exactly ?” 

That boy was too smart for his own good. Bruce said : 

“I’m not. I just...I can’t be with her.” 

“I cAn’T bE wITh hEr !! ...Why ?!” 

“You saw what happened, when it was made official we were together. She almost died.” 

“And you saved her. Your point being ?” 

“Dick...”

“Don’t -he takes a mock Bruce voice- “Dick” me mister ! You’re afraid to be happy, and I won’t have it. You gave me another chance to have a family. A dad. And I’m not about to let my dad punish himself for feeling good. You told me yourself my parents would like for me to be happy. Well yours would too, you big idiot ! So now, you listen to me.” 

Dick, meaning business, jumps on the stairs’ bannister to sort of be on eye level with Bruce, and says, pointing his finger at him : 

“You take one of those fancy useless sport car, and you run after her. Capish ?” 

There’s a moment of silence. During which Bruce is unsure of what to do. And then...Then he smiles at his son. 

His son. 

“Capish”, he simply says, and he rushes towards the garage’s entrance, under Dick’s happy look. 

Success. 

Bruce’s car was leaving the estate, when Alfred joined Dick at the front door. 

“You did it, Master Richard.” 

“I hope I did !” 

“Oh you did. You did. Thank you. Thank you for taking care of my son...”

Dick turned to Alfred, who couldn’t keep a straight face this time. Small tears gathered in the old man’s eyes, and sweet little Dick did not hesitate one second before jumping into his arms and giving him one of his famous “Grayson special” hug. 

It’s real. 

Back to square one. 

You. A bad day. Looking like a mess (this time not because of the rain, but because you cried a lot). Your gap year almost over and still not knowing who you were. With no coffee, but at least, you had a tub of ice cream. 

You already missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred. 

You couldn’t believe those six months of “faking” would end up meaning so much to you, and feel so devastating as they ended. 

You wish you had never met Bruce. And that you’d been ridiculed by Eric and Monica, that your life would still be pathetic...Pathetic maybe, but at least, your heart wasn’t completely shattered. 

You don’t hear the hurried knocks on your door, at first. Entranced by your own sadness. It’s only when they become loud and insistant you react. 

You really hope it’s not a journalist. They sort of tried to talk to you so many times, since you “dumped” Bruce...You knew he made sure that they’d stay away, but some were particularly persistent. 

Including that awful woman from the charity, who was asking Dick those horrible questions. “Vicky Vale”, was her name, apparently. What a witch. 

Clearly, the knocking wasn’t gonna go away, so you stood up, settled your tub of ice cream on your coffee table, and went to the door, ready to fight if need be. 

But there was no need for fights. 

At least, not in the literal sense of the term. 

“Bruce ?” 

He seems out of breath. Incredible, given how in shape he was. He doesn’t really leave you any time to say anything else, as he blurts out :

“I was wrong.”

He blurts out out of nowhere, and you’re even more confused. Before you could ask what was all this about, he adds : 

“I was wrong. When I said you were the right person because you were “normal”. You’re everything, BUT “just a regular person”. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever met. You decided to help a total stranger just because. I know I helped you before, but it doesn’t compare to what you did for me. Especially on a matter that seems so silly to me now. You put yourself in a very awkward position for someone you didn’t even know. In front of the public, for a guy like me. You knew I was a “playboy”, and that I could very well use you. Yet you still put up with it. You accepted my son, even as you didn’t have to. Even as, just like me, you are so young. You were nice to Dick, even if all you needed to do was pretend. You’re...You’re...You’re just something else entirely. It feels like you know me, the real me. Like you can read my very soul. Like you’re the only one for me. I’ve known for a long time. I ignored it because I was afraid of what that meant but...but a certain little one made me realize this was time. It’s time to move on. It’s time to allow myself to be happy. And so, here I am.”

Was this...it ? The point of your gap year ? To discover that finding yourself...Meant finding your soulmate ? 

It sounded silly. While at the same time, not. Because you felt it. You felt it deep within you. From the moment Bruce handed you that twenty dollars bill, fate was in motion. 

You meeting Eric and Monica wasn’t bad luck. It was the opposite. It was the Universe’s push towards your real Destiny. 

Towards Bruce. 

“You’re not saying anything. Is this bad ? Or does it mean I blew your mind away ? I’m clearly hoping for the latter...”

Over the months, you discovered how huge of a dork Bruce Wayne could be. Even as if there was often a darkness right behind his smiles. Deep within his eyes. You discovered he wasn’t always this cocky arrogant man he portrayed himself to be while in public. How he was actually pretty funny and oh so empathetic. How...How so many things, the list seemed endless in your mind. 

And it only added to everything, that he looked so unsure. And so you smile. You just smile at him. And everything you feel is in that smile. 

You don’t even realize you’re holding each others now, and that you’re kissing...

It’s not pretend this time. 

A real first kiss. 

Though maybe all your kisses until now weren’t as fake as you pretended them to be. 

In any case, this, right now, is a real kiss alright. 

A real one. 

Full of all the pent up emotions. Free of all the fear and hurt you both felt as you realized you were in love with the other one, yet you thought things were all “fake”. 

Because it wasn't fake. It wasn’t. 

“I love you.” 

You don’t know who said it first. You, or him. You felt so in sync, that it didn’t matter. What is sure, is that you both said it. Before you closed the door to your apartment, leading him in. 

Before you spend the night in each other’s arms.

Bruce not even thinking about going out as Batman..

For the first time in years, he decided to fully embrace being happy. 

“You always told me my parents would wish for me to be happy, well yours too !” Dick said. And oh, he was so right.

By the way, I’m Batman. Surprise. 

“It’s not like I didn’t know, you know.” 

“Huh ?” 

Oh. Oh the delight to see that surprised expression on Bruce’s face. It was quite a rare one, really. And as he finally gathered the courage to tell you who he really was, risking losing you in the process but wanting to show you his full self...

It was particularly delightful. 

“Busted you on that night you saved me. As if I wasn’t going to recognized that jawline.” 

“Wait, really ? I really thought you bought my lies !” 

“Well now, you know not to underestimate me.” 

“I...Do.”

A natural smile reaches his face, and he approaches you, pulling you to him, and laying a soft kiss on your lips. Feeling fully accepted and loved, like never before. And he could see you-

“Oh NO EWWWWWW !!!” 

You pull away from Bruce’s kiss (noticing his slow grumble, displeased to lose  your warmth), and look at little Dickie (your son too, now !), staring at you two, looking disgusted. 

“Get a ROOOOM !!” 

This makes you laugh. A lot. And oh. Oh how would you ever guess, in that moment, that one day, this “get a room !!” said in such a disgusted tone would be the trademark of your children (SIX OF THEM) whenever they’d see you and Bruce display any sort of affection to one another ? 

You couldn’t guess, of course. But even in that moment, as you softly laughed, in Bruce’s arms, while looking at your son now making exaggerated noises and acting silly, you knew this...

This was what you’ve been looking for during this gap year. 

This was who you were. 

Right there. 

At the heart of a loving family, even if right now, it was just the three of you (four, let’s not forget Alfred !). 

The end. 

_________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you liked it ? I feel particularly nervous about this one haha. Don’t hesitate to leave a little comment and reblog :),  It’s always greatly appreciated, and encouraging :D. Thanks in advance, and see you soon with a new story ! 

[parkers-gal]

unplanned pt. II

- warnings: cursing, babyness

- wc: 1.3k

The last year of college was a bit of a bumpy ride, but eventually you and Peter graduated and got your degrees. Only Peter moved on to his job; you were on maternity leave. 

It was strange. Odd, out of the ordinary, abnormal. To you, at least. There was life inside of you, growing and evolving and thriving. Another heart beating because of you and Peter, because of your love (albeit it's also because of your carelessness, but that was entirely neither of your faults). The amount of nights you laid awake in the dark just caressing your stomach and whispering to the unborn child were countless, and Peter often scolded you for doing such things because "you need to sleep for you and the baby." 

Only now, you didn't have to do that. There was no baby inside of you anymore. Instead, he was resting peacefully in Peter's arms as you rested on the hospital bed next to him. It had been a good three hours after the birth process, and you seized the opportunity to rest and leave your child with Peter, sweet and gentle and caring Peter.  You weren't sure if he was still crying — he was when you drifted off to sleep — but you were fairly certain he was still teary. 

When you woke, Peter kissed your forehead and gave you Anthony -- that's right: Anthony Benjamin Parker was the newest addition to your small family. You couldn't wait for Tony and May to meet him. His eyes sparkled just like Peter's; held galaxies you could get lost in and ocean's you could drown in. Though fresh and a bit chubby, you could already tell which of the features were more like yours and which were most like Peter's. The thought made you smile; you created life. 

"Peter?" You whispered, holding the baby. 

"Yeah?" he whispered back, watching the interaction between you, a brand new mother and her  baby. 

"Do you wanna let everyone in? I know May and all the Avengers have probably been waiting for awhile." 

"Actually, it's just May. I told the Avengers to go home because one: they took up the entire waiting room and two: they grabbed too much attention."

You giggled at Peter's slight ramble before nodding. "Yeah, that seems like a better plan. But at least let May in."

"Of course." 

Two minutes later, you heard a gasp just as Peter entered the room with his aunt, and she rushed to sit by your side, gazing at the sleeping baby, watching him take every breath, his small chest moving up and down comfortingly. 

"Aww," she squealed. "Look at the little baby," she dragged out the final syllable. Peter's cheeks grew a blush and his hands had gotten clammy. "What's-" she started hesitantly. "What's his name?" 

You looked up and directly at Peter, and he smiled softly at you, grateful and lovingly. 

"Anthony Benjamin Parker," he said with a smile. 

May stood up straight, looking at Peter as she silently made her way over to him. She engulfed him in a hug, her embrace all too familiar with Peter, and she lightly cried into his shoulder. 

"He would be so proud." 

***

About two days later, you were discharged from the hospital. Peter was holding the baby in his car seat and you were empty handed except for the small duffel bag. Happy's car was waiting by the curb, and Peter and you both got into the backseat and into the view of Happy's excited and intrigued eyes. 

You smiled, turning the seat so Happy could glance at the newborn, and he let out a happy exhale he was holding in.

"Agh," he turned around and started the engine. "You kids grow up so fast." 

Peter and you laughed and buckled your seat-belts. Peter blindly grabbed your hand when the car started moving, and he kept it in his lap intertwined with his own through the entire ride. 

Once arriving, George, the main security guard, took your bags to his room, but not before expressing his congratulatory messages to the both of you. 

"You ready?" Peter asked, still holding your hand. 

"Yeah," you sighed out happily. "I'm ready."

Into the building and down the corridors and hallways you went. The avengers were in the lounge-room — all of them. They were waiting for the two of you, excited and happy and nervous but above all, loving.

Peter opened the double doors, dropping the duffel bag next to the small table beside one of the couches, and he grabbed your hand again as you brought the car seat into the room. 

Nat gasped and Tony turned around and ended whatever conversation he was having with Bruce and Thor. 

"Is that the little guy?" Nat asked, and Peter nodded. You were too busy gauging their reactions to respond correctly 

"What's his name?" Steve asked after a few seconds. 

"Anthony Benjamin Parker," you told them this time. 

Tony seemed to have stopped breathing all together, but Bucky and Strange and Steve and Clint were all looking at him, almost as if they were happy for a son, proud for him like fathers. Right in the moment, you couldn't read Tony's facial expressions, and you suspected Peter was the same. Was he honored? Starstruck? Happy? Shocked? It was practically a mixture of all four. 

"T-tony?" Peter said. "Are you okay?"

"You know," you spoke up. "We had been discussing baby names for months, and.. we felt it fitting if he was named after someone as important as you, Tony."

"Kid," Tony whispered, his head hanging down as he bashfully wiped his eyes. "I don't know what to say," he admitted. Everyone stood in silence for a few moments before Tony made his way over to the two of you across the room. Sloppily and eyes watered like a garden after rainfall, he pulled Peter into a hug, and you got dragged in as well. 

"I'm honored..." he trailed off, letting go. "And proud. You two are going to be great." 

Peter glanced at you nervously, a blush heating his cheeks once again. 

"I think so, too," Steve said. 

"I also think the two mini heroes will be great," Thor agreed. 

"C'mon!" Nat motioned you two over with her hands. "I wanna see the little babe!" 

Turn after turn you watched them all from the safety of Peter's lap — on the couch, the two of you were seated. It had been a good hour of each Avengers holding, cradling, and rocking the newborn. Steve was undoubtedly the most emotional, Natasha was the longest, and Loki was the most uninterested, though you suspected he was secretly excited. 

When the baby started crying, you found it was probably time to feed him, so you told Peter quietly before kissing his cheek and getting up. Peter watched you maneuver and stride to his child, your child. He couldn't help but smile, and he had to look to his lap to hide it as best he could. 

You were heading out of the lounge-room, and Peter assumed it was just because you were still new to the whole breastfeeding process. Wanda went with you just in case you needed assistance, and Peter was left alone with the heroes. 

"You know," Peter started, grinning. "You're all grandparents now." 

Steve gasped, and heads whipped around to look at him. "I'm too young to be a grandpa!" 

"Too young?" Bucky laughed. "You're like- 100 years old." 

"I was born 100 years ago, but I didn't age. I'm still young!" 

"Oh Jesus, Steve," Bruce laughed. 

"Is that your way of telling us we're old?" Sam looked at Peter, one eyebrow raised. 

Peter's soul practically left his body, his face turning a ghostly white as his eyes bugged out of his head. Tony laughed at the reaction, and so did Strange. 

"No!" he exclaimed. "I swear I didn't intend for that-!" 

"Calm your tiddies, Pete," Natasha laughed. 

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Human (Natasha Romanoff)

Human: Chapter 1

A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC. For the sake of this fic we’re going to pretend that the Battle of New York lasted quite a few hours.

*This is my first ever fic and I wrote it at 3am so bear with me

WARNINGS: swearing; mentions of weapons; violence; panic attack; anxiety; my crappy writing; and I think that’s it (lmk if there’s anything I should add)

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012:

The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in my brain before my eyes even opened. I didn’t need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am— the same time I've woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of my life. I no longer need to wake up this early, yet it’s a habit so deeply engrained in my framework that it’s seemingly unbreakable. I roll out of bed and make my way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math I figured that I got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that’s more than usual. I started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, “Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?”

The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of me and responded, “I wouldn’t mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I was here.”

“Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?”

“You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight.” I slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat. 

“Then we’d better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment.” He simply chuckled in response and I could already feel my patience wavering.

Two Hours Later:

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?”

“Yeah, it’s a mouthful. Trust me I know.”

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there’s no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus.”

“It’s technically an extra-governmental spy agency-“

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not joining,” I said, cutting him off.

“So, you’re just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn’t seem like a great life.”

“Better than the one I lived before.”

“You aren’t the person to live in hiding. You’re the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it.” When I didn’t respond he continued, “I’ll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you’ll know where to find me. You don’t have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight.” With that he slid off the stool and left my apartment, leaving me with nothing but my rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:

It had been four months since Director Fury came to my apartment in Barcelona. We’d kept in contact and he hasn’t given up on me joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. I'm living in my third apartment since then. Wow…those landlords must really hate me. I was watching the seven o’clock news when I saw something that made me choke on my Cheerios. “An alien invasion?! What the fu-” My Cheerio-muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of my burner phone. “Hello?”

“Eight, you watched the news recently?”

“Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?”

“Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes… aliens. I’m forming a team of…extraordinary people to help protect against these threats and they could really use a hand to finish off this fight.”

“I may be weird as hell but I ain't ‘extraordinary’, Fury. I don’t wanna join your band of misfits.”

“Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don’t wanna join once the battle is over, you can go right back to France and I’ll stop bothering you about joining.” After a few seconds of silence I agreed. 

“Fine, but I’m not gonna change my mind. Wait, how do you know about my jet?”

He gave a hearty laugh and said “I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now.”

New York, New York; 96 Minutes Later: 

I flew my jet into the city, making sure to take out a few flying Chitauri in the process. We don’t need to talk about how I got my hands on a German jet that can fly 2100mph. I saw a few interesting characters standing in a circle fighting off an endless sea of aliens. I maneuvered the jet and— wait…is that guy wearing blue tights? Is this what Fury meant by extraordinary? Whatever. I landed in the street about 20 yards away and killed the engines. I hopped out and started jogging towards the group. A couple of them turned around, probably wondering who the hell the chick in the black uniform is and— whoa that’s a beautiful woman. After realizing my steps had literally faltered in a mini gay panic, I slowed to a walk and said “Y’all need a hand?”

“Depends on whose hand it is,” replied the redheaded source of my panic.

“I’m a friend of Fury’s. He practically begged me to come save your asses.”

“Fury doesn’t beg,” she said in a doubtful tone.

“Not typically, but I'm just that awesome. If you don’t believe me then call him up but I’m gonna go kill some aliens.” With that I took off down another street where there was a group of the repulsive bastards. After unloading all of my magazines into Chitauri bodies, I switched to my swords and daggers. After another hour or so of fighting, there were no more aliens in sight. I started jogging toward the rich dude’s tower when I saw said rich dude falling through the rapidly-closing portal. I stopped next to Mr. Blue Tights and the buff blonde guy with the hammer when the big green dude grabbed Mr. Rich Dude from the sky and landed next to us. The green guy yelled, waking Mr. Rich Dude up with a start. “What the hell? What happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me. Except for her, she’s pretty hot,” he said nodding toward me. Just then the redhead jogged over to us and eyed my blood-soaked form from head to toe. 

“See something you like, Red?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I'd be classified as a sadist if I liked the sight of that much blood,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Yeah that’s fair.” She shook her head at me with a small smirk. There was barely a second of silence when Mr. Rich Dude spoke up. 

“Anybody want shawarma?”

Three Hours Later:

I had gone to the Triskelion after the band of misfits apprehended Loki. Agent Hill showed me where to park my jet and directed me to a room so I could shower and stay the night if I wanted to. I had put on black jeans, a white tee, and a black jean jacket, all of which had been in a to-go bag in my jet. I was toweling off my hair when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door to see none other than the one-eyed-wonder standing there. “What can I do for you, Nicky?”

“The Avengers are being debriefed in Conference Room 6B in ten minutes. You should come.”

“The Avengers? Is that what you’re calling them? That’s cute. But I'm not an Avenger and I don’t want to be an Avenger, so no thanks.”

“You should come anyway.”

“I don’t actually have a choice, do I?”

“You know me so well, Eight,” he said with an amused grin.

I walked into the conference room and the Avengers were already there. Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Natasha Romanoff—whose names I learned from Hill— were scattered around a large table, along with Fury. Romanoff eyed me from where she was standing and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. I squinted my eyes and wiggled my eyebrows in response, and I could see her stifle a laugh. “What’s your name?” She accompanied the question with a blank expression, which made me feel oh-so-special. 

“That’s a very personal question, Miss Romanoff. Let’s slow the pace, please.”

“You know my name but I can’t know yours? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The world isn’t fair, Miss Romanoff, and I love a good mystery.”

“If you two are done flirting, we have business to attend to,” interjected Fury.

“Right, my apologies, Nicky.”

“Don’t call me that, Eight.”

After an excruciating 43 minutes and 27 seconds, Fury finally let us leave. I was so close to freedom when that unbelievably sexy voice called to me. “Eight!” Romanoff hastily walked towards me in an effort to catch up.

“Yeah?”

“Is your name actually Eight?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“It amuses me, Red.” There was a brief silence during which both of us were trying to figure out if the conversation was over. 

I was about to leave when she continued, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, no. I’m going to stay the night, steal some really expensive jet fuel, and then leave in the morning before Fury can get up my ass about joining his little team.”

She rolled her eyes and responded, “Why won’t you join the Avengers? And why won’t you tell me your real name?”

“It’s just not my style. I’d rather fly solo.”

“You ignored my second question.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint and stop asking.” With that I turned around and started walking away, but a hand on my arm stopped me dead in my tracks. Alarms started going off in my head, and I'm pretty sure Romanoff was saying something to me but I was too caught up in the memories of beatings, punishments, and psychological conditioning to register it. After a few of the longest seconds of my life, the white of my vision cleared up and the voice telling me ‘physical contact is strictly forbidden’ faded into the background. My heart was still hammering in my chest and I was trying to keep my breathing steady despite the inevitable panic attack trying to drag me under, I regained my neutral expression and said. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you okay?” She had a concerned expression and if I wasn’t so blinded with anxiety, I would’ve appreciated how cute the furrow of her eyebrows was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna turn in. It’s been a long day.” I turned around and walked back to my temporary room at a brutal pace. As soon as the door closed behind me, hot tears raced down my cheeks and I lost the ability to breathe. It was gonna be a long night.

3:21 am:

I finally managed to calm myself down and stop the panic attack after almost four hours. Well, I passed out because I couldn’t breathe but it did calm me down. Trying to sleep would be pointless, so I decided to leave before anyone woke up. I didn’t really have much to pack so I grabbed my duffel bag and left the room. I made it to the corridor attached to the landing pads and ran into the one person I really didn’t want to see. “What are you doing out and about, Red?”

“I’ve got places to be and things to do. Were you just going to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager with a rebellious streak?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually. Do you need a ride? Where are you going?”

“Madrid. Fury said I could hitch a ride on another plane that’s headed for Germany.”

“Well I’m going to France if you wanna ride with me. My jet will get you there a lot faster.” She studied me for what felt like way too long, probably debating if I would try to kill her or not. You know how spies are with their trust issues.

“What the hell, why not?”

And that is how I ended up in a jet with “Candy Shop” playing over the speakers and Natasha Romanoff in the copilot seat yelling at me to, and I quote, ‘slow the fuck down.’ “Why would I slow down, you psycho?! That’s the whole damn point of this thing!”

“Where did you even get a German jet this fast?”

“Germany.”

“No shit Sherlock. How did you get it?”

“I went to Germany, stopped in at the local speedy-jet dealership, and walked out with this beauty.”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism, you know? You’re only being like this to keep me from seeing the real you. You built walls. You want everyone to think you’re fine when in reality, you’re falling apart.”

“Okay…um…there was no need for that, Dr. Romanoff. I can find my own therapist, thank you very much. And don’t go pretending you’re all healthy in the head, Miss Assassin.” It was quiet for all of five seconds before we both burst into laughter.

Madrid, Spain:

I landed the jet at the local S.H.I.E.L.D. base and killed the engines. Romanoff and I removed our headsets and I stood to help her get her bags. “Welp, I’ll see you around I guess.” I really wasn’t good at this type of thing. Or any social interactions, really. Twenty-four years in a cell will do that to you.

“Will I? See you around, I mean?”

“Um, I don’t really know, honestly. I’m not part of S.H.I.E.L.D. so we won’t just run into each other or anything but…”

“Why won’t you join S.H.I.E.L.D.? I mean what else are you doing?”

“Ohhh, I see. You just love me so much that you don’t want me to leave. You’re gonna miss me so much-” I was cut off when she threw her backpack at my head. “Hey! You’re lucky I caught that! Freaking crazy woman.”

When our laughter died down she said, “Well I should probably go. Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. Hitchhikers are always welcome aboard my beloved jet.” A small smile appeared on her face and she stepped forward to give me a hug but she must’ve seen my body go rigid because she stepped back. She might’ve said something but the voice in my head was too loud for me to understand her. I don’t know how long it was before I unfroze but when I did, she was gone. I walked to the front of the jet and started the journey to France.

[perperam]

OKAY I saw your Instagram post things and I just want to know what are your headcanons for that universe?? Is there any specific AU you imagine the Instagram AUs happening in or do you have specific rules for your own ideal version or

somehow, surprisingly, you're not the only one to ask this !!

okay so funny story at first I literally just drew the instagram things bc I thought yeah harley would be so loved by all of internet generation gen z college kids (as an internet gen z recently graduated undergrad myself)

but then as I made the posts more and more intricate with the comments and stuff it kinda...grew into something bigger? like they actually have a particular AU for them now!! so that's fun

here's what I'm thinkin I want in my social media AU:

world building wise:

neither of them are really "heroes" but they aren't outright supervillains either—like they're anti-heroes that dont give a shit about corporate & capitalist culture

aka they can, have, and will continue to steal from big market names and threaten CEOs, but will also pool money to pay small business and support local folks

much like the vibes of the harley quinn animated series, harley and the rest are literally Just People and go to coffee shops and just hang out in public (the fuck is GCPD gonna do for them drinking coffee, send em to Arkham??)

this makes them really well liked by Gotham's general public

also because ivy has and will kill rapists and bad men on sight and harley has on more than one occasion been linked to crimes where abusers have mysteriously turned up dead or beat to a pulp with a blunt object suspiciously shaped like a bat or sledgehammer

there's this specific tattoo shop harley really likes that she goes to whenever she wants a new piece done, and because of her instagram they've become the most popular place in Gotham, in fact if you go there on any given day you have a 25% chance of seeing harley

also I wasn't kidding when I said harley really would have her own psychiatry clinic and continue to treat people (mostly college kids and criminals) for free because harley says fuck the US health care system and helping others would be really fulfilling to her

harley advertising on her instagram story: hey yall I'll be having a trauma processing session tonight at my clinic please stop by if you want to make an appointment or listen to my lecture

oh also harley has a podcast and the episodes vary from "workout routine" to "breaking the glass ceiling of female supervillains and the male gaze in crime" to "why stealing is sometimes okay" to "studying for the mcat and quick tips" to "perhaps marx was right" to random tangents that go on and on and on

pam on the other hand is not only a feared ex-supervillain but now a revered member of Gotham's city-revitalization planning committee

in between heists for rare floral specimen she plans climate protests and tree-planting events and in general does her damn best to try and bring some sort of green to Gotham in a "legal fashion" (a news source once said this and ivy almost killed the news anchor on the fucking spot from how much rage pumped through her veins in that moment)

characters & dynamics wise:

harley and ivy have been living together and literally married for like, a year now by this point

selina is over so often she might as well be living at their apartment

the gotham city sirens and the batkids are besties!! as they should be (this used to stress bruce out to no end but after the third family dinner dick planned with "aunty harls and pam" he had to eventually give up)

in fact jason and harley often get involved in stupid shenanigans and dick is almost always there with them and literal seconds from being implicated in their scheme somehow

jason is often at harley and ivy’s apartment and can greatly relate to harley in many different ways (from growing up in a crime riddled neighborhood to having intense trauma courtesy of the joker and ivy finds it endearing that he trusts harley enough to let people in (and there is a visible, tangible change in him after he starts getting closer to harley, everyone can feel how much happier he becomes)

harley and ivy are 28 and 32 respectively but because ivy literally has the interests and name of a 90 year old everyone just teases her by calling her "grandma pamela"

the batkids refer to them as aunty harley and aunty (sometimes grandma) ivy and ivy fights every time for a different name but just gave up sometime after tim joined in

ivy and tim get along really well, surprisingly

also alfred literally loves pam because she helps the plants in bruce's neglected green house thrive and ivy really enjoys his company because he's on the same wave length as her and "knows when to shut the fuck up and just bask in the quiet unlike literally all other men"

I think I want babs and dinah to be dating bc have you seen their chemistry and dick and kori to be dating bc again have you seen their chemistry but I'm kinda torn and in between and idk

bud and lou are great cuddle bugs and ivy secretly loves it but pretends she hates it to harley's face bc a girl's gotta save some semblance of dignity right

details:

harley has adhd and you can't convince me, someone with adhd, otherwise

harley has both shitty tattoos that she gets for no other reason other than that it's funny or that she hyperfixates on them super hard for half a second and suddenly there's art on her again and ivy's just ?? when she gets home. she also really meaningful tattoos that she has multiple consultations about

she had two ribcage tattoos before the joker, got three tattoos commemorating him during their (highly abusive) relationship which she immediately covered with new ink upon leaving him, and gets a lot of patchwork style tattoos down her arms and thighs

she has a giant flower tattoo going down her entire spine and it's ivy's favorite thing ever

ivy actually also has a (singular) tattoo and it's a diamond with a stem and leaves as if it were a flower

it's still very much a work in progress but since multiple people have asked me about this I thought I'll dump all my thoughts here

[animebookworm16]

Who Are You? - Angst

For @j3ssisam3ss

This is my angst piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25 Childhood Friends

It was the middle of winter in Gotham when she showed up. A tiny girl everyone guessed to be about three. She never spoke or made a sound, but she often smiled, even on the coldest nights. The little girl would just curl up to whoever had taken her that day and smile. At first the other homeless believed she'd never make it to spring. But the little girl was full of surprises. Not only did she survive the worst of the winter, she thrived once spring arrived.

Everyone knew she had a name, no one knew what it was, but they knew she had one. They also knew she was old enough to know it. Surprisingly, no one ever tried to give her a new name. Sure she got nicknames. More nicknames than a toddler could ever hope to keep track of, but somehow she did.

The little girl grew. As all children must. And the older children and adults always made sure to enunciate whenever she was in the area, hoping to teach her how to speak. They all banded together, like they always do for the especially young kids, and kept her away from the worst of the drugs, gangs, rogues, and the overall darkest parts of Gotham.  She grew, and most people started calling her Pixie. Their little fairy caused laughter and mischief wherever she went. Even still she rarely spoke, her words as few and far between as they were, were always impactful to whoever she spoke to.

When Jason Todd started living on the street, everything changed. Pixie stuck to his side like glue. She laughed, she started talking, Pixie acted like the entire five years she had been living around Gotham she had been solely waiting for Jason to show up. The ones who raised her would have felt jilted if it hadn't been for how happy the little girl looked. Two years passed and the two ten-year-olds rarely left each other's sides.

Then Jason stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile and Pixie was finally picked up by CPS.

Pixie had to be strapped down by CPS so that she wouldn't hurt anyone. Luckily for her, a young French couple had been passing by when they saw what they were doing, and demanded to adopt the young girl. CPS didn't want to deal with the girl for much longer and agreed. When Tom and Sabine found out she didn't have a name, they quickly named her Marinette Dupain-Cheng and decided her birthday would be the same day they adopted her. 

The newly named Marinette was quickly taken out of Gotham and out of the country as the couple returned to Paris.

She never knew that Jason had been adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Jason was picked up by Batman and quickly adopted by Bruce Wayne. Before long he had taken up the mantle of Robin and was fighting crime.  He looked everywhere for his friend but no matter who or where he asked, no one had any idea. As the months passed, Jason lost hope for ever finding Pixie again.

He would never know that she had been picked up by CPS and adopted by a Parisian couple and taken back to Paris.

In Paris, Marinette always appeared happy, and her new parents were always busy but tried to make time for her. Marinette had taken to wandering Paris. She wanted to be familiar with her new city, even if Tom and Sabine didn't always agree with her new habit.

When she started school, Marinette stayed quiet. Friendly, but quiet. This made her a prime target for the mayor's spoiled daughter Chloe. Marinette allowed it to happen and did nothing to change the status quo. three years passed in this way until suddenly Marinette was seated next to an extremely outspoken girl named Alya, who would absolutely not stand for the status quo, so Marinette filled that space, doing what she'd always done since she'd come to Paris molded herself into what everyone around her wanted. The same day she met her new deskmate, and self-proclaimed bestie, Marinette also became one of the two heroes of Paris, fighting an emotional terrorist who thrived on negative emotions (and just being from Gotham made her a prime target). Marinette became Dame Nuit, with her partner Mister Bug.

She listened to everything Plagg told her, especially the warnings and consequences of using the Black Cat Miraculous.

For the next four years, Marinette would fill every mold she was placed in. The hero, the Guardian, the class president, the perfect baker's daughter, everything. 

Then the consequences started showing up. Marinette knew she had to wrap up Hawk Moth and Mayura quickly. She started pushing it so much that Mister Bug called her out one night and in a single moment of weakness she told him what was happening. What her Miraculous was doing to her.

Mister Bug immediately wanted her to stop and let him give the Miraculous to someone else, but Dame Nuit shut it down saying that even if she stopped now, the damage was done and nothing would change that. In fact, using the Miraculous, while it had started the process, was actually slowing it down. Mister Bug cried when she told him that.

Together they redoubled their efforts to bring Hawk Moth and Mayura down. Of course, Mister Bug insisted on bringing in more permanent heroes, under the guise of keeping one of the two things Hawk Moth was after out of the fight. Dame Nuit then argued that it should be the Ladybug because it's the one that can fix everything which just left them going in circles. But even still she conceded to his request for more backup.

Within six months, Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur had been stripped of their Miraculous and Paris was free to feel their emotions once more. All the Miraculous were returned and Marinette and Adrien revealed their identities to each other.

Adrien stuck to Marinette's side and became an unofficial brother. He helped her as the build-up of chaos in her soul took a physical manifestation, and began to destroy her 

A year after Hawk Moth's defeat Marinette's entire class was granted a trip to Gotham City.

Marinette would have laughed at the irony if she didn't know it would probably be the last place she saw. It was strangely comforting to know that the city that held her most precious memories would also be the place that would hold her last.

In Gotham, Jason grew into a young man. He discovered the woman he thought was his mother wasn't. He tracked down his real mother, then got beaten half to death by the Joker only to be blown up by one of Joker's bombs.

Jason died.

Then Jason was revived by the Lazarus Pits and trained by the League of Shadows. He grew to hate Batman and wanted nothing more than to see the end of the Joker. 

Years later, Jason would return to Gotham only to find he had been replaced and that the Joker was still running free, and alive. Jason tried to kill the new Robin, a kid named Tim Drake, Batman, and the Joker. He managed to end none of them.

Bruce convinced Jason to stick around and one thing led to another and Redhood became part of the Batfamily patrol rotation. He doesn't stay in the manor but he does drop in at least once a month for family dinners at Alfred's request. On the weekends, Jason would take Tim out and teach him how to spot a sniper, an assassin, what different guns look like when someone is trying to hide them, and most importantly, how to defuse a bomb. It becomes a bonding time for the two, but Jason still calls Tim 'Replacement' but now as a term of endearment.

He never forgets Pixie and she is one of the few things that kept him sane during the worst of the Pit Madness.

Then Damian shows up and Jason has no idea how to deal with the tiny Demon Spawn. It's rough going for a while but they all found their ways of bonding and before long they are one large dysfunctional family. 

When Jason turned eighteen, he, Dick, Tim, and Damian welcomed a French class to Wayne Industries for a week-long tour. And that is where he thought he saw someone he would never see again.

Without his permission, Jason called out to her, "Pixie?" It was barely a whisper, but she heard it.

Her head whipped around and she stared at him, "Jason?"

He wanted to say it was a happy reunion. And it kind of was. They hugged. Her class and his brothers stared. Then the tears started. Pixie was smiling but tears were streaming down her face.

One of the other students came over and asked her in French if she was okay. Pixie shook her head and the blond boy asked if there was somewhere she could rest. Jason offered to show them a room. The three of them sat in a quiet room as Pixie cried. She kept leaning into Jason and he wasn't about to stop her. After who knows how long, Pixie dried her eyes and haltingly told Jason what was going on. She told him, how she'd been adopted and went by Marinette now. How she was dying and no one besides Adrien, the blond, knew. How she probably wouldn't make it out of Gotham.

Jason's first reaction was to want to hurt something. His second was to hold Pixie as close as he could and never let her go. Jason cried. 

For the rest of the week everywhere that Pixie went, Jason was close behind. The other Waynes noticed and on the fourth day of their stay, invited Pixie and Adrien to join them for dinner.

There, a not-so-subtle interrogation went down, asking Pixie how she knew Jason. At which point, even Pixie's failing health allowed her to spill so many childhood stories about Jason that even they couldn't resist her knowledge. In return, Jason told Adrien stories he had collected about her as a toddler and little kid. It was the brightest smile Adrien had ever seen on Marinette, and the first real smile Pixie had given Jason all week. He could almost pretend that she wasn't dying.

After dinner Pixie said, "Jason, did I ever tell you about the dream I've had ever since I was a little girl?"

"What dream Pix?"

"I've always wanted to stand at the very top of the Wayne Industries building at dawn, and feel the wind at the top of the world."

"Really?"

Pixie smiled a soft sad smile, "Yeah. Do you think we could do that tomorrow?"

Jason suddenly realized what Pixie was talking about, and had to fight a lump in his throat to answer, "Yeah. Pix. Yeah, we can do that."

Adrien and Pixie stayed the night that night. That morning at about three, Jason woke them up and took them to the top of Wayne Industries. Pixie stood as high up as she possibly could. Adrien and Jason watched her with tears in their eyes. Before long, they were joined by Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin, who all wanted to make sure she wouldn't fall. Jason didn't have the heart to tell them they couldn't stop what was about to happen.

As dawn started to creep up on them, Adrien broke down sobbing, begging Marinette to fight a little longer. When the light hit her head, Marinette closed her eyes and smiled. They all saw her start to fade.

Her hands went first. Like dust. As the light increased so did her fading. Before she faded completely, Pixie walked towards them a peaceful smile on her face. Jason was crying now too. His Pixie looked like a ghost.

And as she faded completely, everyone on that roof heard her say, "My name is Jeanette. It's so nice to meet you!"

[bigskydreaming]

I love an absolutely unreasonable amount of things about Robin: Year One for something written by Chuck Dixon (and have decided to just go with the conclusion that well, even broken clocks are right twice a day, it is what it is).

But one of my favorite aspects about it is the little throwaway detail that Talia was the one ultimately behind Shrike’s little assassin finishing school for street kids, and my ensuing headcanon that this is the REAL source of conflict between her and Dick, assuming Dick also found out about her role at some point later on.

For Dick, its that like, wow, Vengeance Academy was reeeeeeeally not fun for me, thanks T, but also there’s the unsettling awareness that given where he was emotionally and mentally at the time, it came far closer to swaying his mindset to its way of thinking than he cares to admit. With this translating into his eternal grudge match against Talia. 

Its 50% personal (he’s like hello, I was freaking TEN okay, I was kidnapped off the streets after running away and forcibly drafted into bootcamp for tween murderers-in-training, hi, yes, I would like to file a grievance complaint, why is that surprising) and 50% ideological in the sense that even all the way back then, it wasn’t like he was oblivious to the appeal Talia and the school’s way of thinking held, and the vehemence of his pushback against it and everything it represents and everyone involved in it is more than a little bit a forceful point to reject it in defiance of that very same appeal.

For Talia, its that she thinks Dick is an idiot and its a bit about wounded pride, for pretty much those exact same reasons. Talia is not her father, and is more than willing to approach things very differently than he does. Every operation she’s in charge of or AU where she runs the League, the result is a very different creature than what results of Ra’s being in charge. But despite those differences, it is important to note that Talia DOES in and of herself still believe most of the same ideology the League adopts and teaches in turn. She stays not because she HAS to but because she believes in its end goals, in its methodology. Their way of thinking is not without merit, in her eyes, and much of her worldview in terms of how she views power and what one does with it if one has it....she’s not just PRETENDING to think that way to play nice with the League.

Its what frustrates her so much about Bruce - that he can’t see the merits of her approaches, her own ideology, that he refuses to consider that there might be something to her way of things. Or more accurately, its not that he refuses to consider it, its that he DID consider it when he was younger, and discarded it as something not for him, a notion he rejected with deliberation. But as much as this is frustrating to Talia as it so often is what comes between them, she respects it because she respects HIM. She doesn’t like that he won’t bend on this subject, but she can’t precisely say she DISLIKES it either, because someone who could be made to give up his own ideals and accept hers simply because she wanted them to is not someone who would have ever captivated her interest as long as Bruce has.

But that rejection of her own worldview and methods is one thing to see coming from someone you respect and even admire for the steel of their own convictions, a peer, a rival....and another thing entirely to see coming from a ten year old brat that in Talia’s eyes, she was actually trying to HELP, in her own way, by taking this clearly vulnerable and unprotected child (given that there was no one to STOP Shrike from taking him off the streets) and giving him the tools he would need to not only survive in this world but even thrive. She, by way of Shrike, took a kid she saw as likely to just be swallowed whole by the streets and forgotten, and was trying to give him a way to make a difference, live a life of significance, from her POV....and Dick essentially spit on that and said no thanks and also fuck you.

From Bruce, she’ll take that, because she feels he’s earned that right of forceful defiance by way of the long, arduous journey he voluntarily took to become the man he is with intent.....a journey she’s been witness to more than a small part of. From Dick though, there was no way she was EVER going to see his rejection of what she and her perspective had to offer him as anything less than a slight she would not tolerate.....because she wasn’t about to view a ten year old as her peer, as an acknowledged rival the way she does Bruce.

So its that thing where you refuse to accept that a kid might have a point for thinking or wanting what he wants, because you’re the adult and you know better dammit, you have life experience and he still has baby teeth. Ungrateful, know-nothing little brat.

And the thing is, both Dick and Talia are just so freaking STUBBORN that they’ve refused to ever loosen the reins on their particular view of each other, cast eternally in amber from the second they were each respectively made aware of the other’s role or presence in that long ago aborted experiment known as Vengeance Academy.

They still view each other through that same lens, and likely always will, because its just a grudge match for the ages now, they’re each completely certain they were RIGHT to do what they did and feel what they felt about it, and they’re not budging on that. And nothing else about the other or how the other has changed or what they’ve become since that time, even though its been over fifteen years in comic book time since that happened, like....nothing else about the other, no new information or perspective on the other is even filtering through or getting past that initial formed response....because they’re not ALLOWING it to. 

They’re both like.....yeah whatever, that’s cool and all, whenever the other does something new that contrasts with their view of them and the expectations they hold for how they’re likely to act at any given time based entirely on those events of fifteen years ago.....

But its in a distracted, offhanded sorta way like they’re not even paying attention to whatever that new action or behavior was, its not even really REGISTERING with them.....because they’re both just like, look, before we pay any attention to literally anything the other has done or accomplished in the last fifteen years, first we gotta settle up on this little matter of Vengeance Academy and the fact that I was RIGHT, and we’re not going ANYWHERE until they fucking admit it.

Bruce: Don’t you two think that maybe, just MAYBE, its time to let that go and perhaps form a new opinion of each other based on, oh, I don’t know....the present day?

Dick and Talia, still deadlocked in a glare: STAY OUT OF THIS BRUCE.

[fandomwriterstuff]

Quarantine Queen

Darcy was, for all intents and purposes, an extrovert. She thrived on being around people, engaging with them, all that jazz. So when Dr. Doom’s minions released a pathogen that led to the entirety of Manhattan being quarantined and sick with an extra-strength virus, she started going stir crazy.

She lived in an apartment building not too far from the Avengers Tower (where she worked in the labs). However, she barely left the tower and only slept in her apartment. She never had food stocked in the fridge. Just vodka in the freezer and some microwave meals stacked behind it.

So, when everything went into lockdown while she was asleep, she panicked.

Can I go to the grocery store? I don’t have any food.

She’d sent it in the tower group chat, hoping the resident Avengers would know more about the situation than she did.

Tin Man: What do you mean no food? You’re the one always making us come to family dinner at the tower.

She rolled her eyes and sent back: Yeah, at the tower. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a meal in my apartment.

Tin Man: I’ll have JARVIS order essentials to be sent to your apartment with no-contact delivery.

HawkDaddy: I got the sickness, please send me soup.

Darcy frowned. It had only been a day since the quarantine started, how did he get sick so fast?

Tin Man: I only send delivery to my favorites.

HawkDaddy: :(

Darcy laughed and rolled her eyes. Her friends were so weird. But then again, she was friends with a bunch of super people. She couldn’t even make friends in her apartment complex because she was never there.

She ended up pulling her knitting supplies out from under her bed to make a Mjolnir-themed sweater for Thor. There wasn’t much work she could do from home since Jane was also not in the labs.

She knitted and had Ted Lasso on in the background on the TV until six, when there was a knock on her door. She startled, dropping a stitch, but quickly recovered and hurried to look through the peephole. Nobody there. She opened the door a crack and looked around, nobody was there. But when she looked down there were about forty bags of groceries in front of her door.

She shot a text to the group.

Holy Mjolnir. That is a lot of groceries.

She added a picture of the mountain of brown paper bags in front of her door.

Tony: You’re welcome, kiddo.

Darcy smiled. Tony could be very thoughtful sometimes. As she started hauling it all inside she took a look at what ‘the basics’ meant. It included oat milk, various canned goods and frozen vegetables, toilet paper and feminine hygiene products (her favorite brand of tampons… was he a mind reader?). He’d even sent her over a tin of brownies.

So, Darcy made it a hobby to be a homebody. As long as she could pass the time, she would be okay. One day turned into two, two into three, then it had been a week, two weeks, three weeks since the quarantine started. It took Darcy three weeks to realize a few things. She’d barely changed out of her pajamas in over a week. She hadn’t showered in nine days. She hadn’t ingested anything but coffee and Ritz crackers for six days. She hadn’t answered Jane’s video calls in three days. She’d been ignoring the group text for two, as it was starting to give her heart palpitations. She hadn’t even moved from the couch to go to her bed last night and woke up with a sore back.

She didn’t notice any of this, of course, until she got another video call. Thinking it was Jane, she just swiped it, but instead of swiping to end it, she accidentally swiped to answer it.

“Fuck!” She shouted as her phone slipped from her hand and onto the rug.

“You know a ‘hello’ would have worked, too,” so that was definitely not Jane’s voice.

“Tony?” she asked as she picked up the phone and looked at the man’s face. She wished she hadn’t though, as he immediately raised an eyebrow at her.

“Have you looked in a mirror like… At all in the past several days? That crust looks several days old, mamacita,” Darcy looked down at her sweaty t-shirt and mens boxer shorts self-consciously. “I mean your face, darling. Have you washed it recently?” His tone softened and that’s when Darcy realized something was wrong. Tony wasn’t soft with her. Sarcastic, sassy, nosy, that’s how she’d describe their relationship. But it was never this sincere.

“Hold on,” her voice was scratchy with disuse and she left her phone face up on the coffee table as she hurried over to her bathroom sink.

Shit. She looked like a wreck. Her hair was a greasy mess piled on top of her head. She couldn’t remember the last time she washed her face. It was a miracle she wasn’t developing acne. After she thoroughly scrubbed the grime off her face, she went to change into other pajamas, but she was thinning out. It was weird. She couldn’t find anything that fit right on her body so she just threw on a pair of blue gingham boxers and one of Tony’s stolen band t-shirts.

“That’s a little better,” Tony spoke when she came back to her phone. “Though I would suggest getting in the shower sometime soon.” She rolled her eyes at that. Maybe.

“Why did you video call me?” She pondered as she settled back down into her couch, feeling a little cleaner.

“You haven’t answered my texts in days. I’m allowed to worry about my friends, Darcy Lewis,” he raised both eyebrows at her and she winced. “I know this quarantine has been hard on everyone, but it’s also okay to not be okay. You’re used to being around people 24/7. You even said yourself that you never eat alone.”

“I’m fine,” she shrugged. “Just used to socializing and doing work. I’m not used to sitting still.”

“Are you sure that’s all? Jane said you haven’t been answering her either.”

“Jane snitched?” She gasped and narrowed her eyes. “Who else?”

Suddenly the man looked very innocent.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he spoke calmly with a lilt to his voice.

“Who else told you they’re worried about me?” Darcy wanted to cross her arms but she was stuck holding her phone.

“Jane and Thor, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Steve-”

“How the fuck? What would they know? I don’t socialize with them outside of the tower so how the fuck would they know something was going on?” She spat, feeling a little defensive and teamed up on.

“You haven’t answered Jane’s calls, so she and Thor are concerned. Clint hasn’t seen you on X-Box live since the first week of quarantine, so he asked about you. Natasha seems to just know things, so she asked me to check in on you. Bruce knows what it’s like to have to be alone all of the time and was wondering how his favorite extrovert was doing. And Steve-”

“Go on, I’d like to hear this,” Darcy muttered. She’d had the biggest crush on Steve for the longest time, but they didn’t talk much since he didn’t work in the labs. They only socialized at family dinners and movie nights.

“He hasn’t heard you blast music in like six days,” Tony said with a quirked eyebrow. Darcy sputtered.

“What does that even mean?” She asked, throwing her free hand up.

“He lives next to you?” Tony said it like a question.

“I thought he lived at the tower,” Darcy frowned, eyeing up the wall she shared with the neighbor she’d never met.

“You- you didn’t know you lived next to Steve?” Tony asked exasperatedly. He shook his head and Darcy felt her cheeks heating. She wasn’t the most observant at times, and they’d been in quarantine for three weeks. It’s not like she was going outside. Plus, before that she was barely ever here. “This is a new level of unobservant. For someone who works in science, this is shocking.”

“It’s not that shocking,” she sputtered, scratching the back of her head. “I was barely ever here before all of this.”

“Fair, but still. For someone who has a Steve-radar, you probably could have figured it out. I mean,” he sighed. “You have the same commute. You work in the same building. When you leave movie night you go to the same place.”

“Yeah but usually I go to ang with Jane first,” Darcy felt like she had to defend herself. “I gotta go, I need to take a shower,” and with that, she cut him off and hung up with a huff. Who did he think he was, her father? Jeez.

As she stripped out of her fresh pajamas (probably not so fresh anymore since she’d been sweating nervously under Tony’s interrogative tone), she noticed even more how thin her fingers were looking, how cold she was. That was probably a bad thing.

However, the thoughts flew from her mind as she stepped into the hot spray of water and just leaned into it. It was nearly a religious experience. Or, it would have been, if she didn’t know that gods were just aliens. She took way too long in there, shampooing twice and just letting the hot water pour over her pale skin. She hadn’t been able to go outside and tan at all this summer with Jane being near a breakthrough and now with the quarantine.

All she’d done was knit and watch TV and cook. She finished Thor’s sweater and decided to knit one for all of the resident Avengers. Thor’s was maroon with little gold Mjolnirs all over it. Bruce’s was cream with little chemical structures all over it (she didn’t think he would wear a shirt with the Hulk all over it). Tony’s was black with a red and gold iron man helmet on the front and “I am Iron Man” on the back. Natasha’s was red with little knives and guns all over it. Clint’s (obviously) was purple with bows and arrows all over it, and “Legolas” on the back (Legolas was his favorite archer, how could Katniss or Merida even compare to an immortal elven archer?).

She was working on Steve’s now. He wasn’t all “apple pie America” in his free time, but she still wanted it to be cute and on theme. It was navy blue with a very complex eagle and waving american flag on it. Darcy was struggling, but she would be finished with it soon. She’d been knitting her whole life, her grandmother had taught her when she lived with her for a while.

She’d send them all out once they were done.

When Darcy finally exited the shower, fresh and smelling like roses and strawberries, she noticed she had another missed call from Jane and a few texts in the group chat. Her heart rate started ratcheting up. She could smell her deodorant in the air as she started sweating slightly. She licked her dry lips. Since when did she get anxious about group chats?

She took a look and smiled softly at her friends’ names.

Nat: I’ve come down with something. I blame Clint.

HawkDaddy: I was sick THREE WEEKS AGO. Why do you blame me?

Nat: You have a guilty face.

HawkDaddy: [download image]

Darcy quickly clicked on the attachment and giggled at Clint’s pouting face. She didn’t think before responding.

You know better than all of us that pouting is not going to sway Natasha’s opinion.

There was suddenly an influx of messages, and then Darcy remembered that she hadn’t responded in several days.

Nat: She’s right, you know.

That was the most normal response. Darcy had a feeling Natasha was the most emotionally intelligent one at the moment and didn’t want to make Darcy feel bad about falling into a depression hole.

HawkDaddy: Marceline the Vampire Queen has returned to us!

Tin Man: I think if anything, Short Stack is Princess Bubblegum.

Here’s Brucey: Darcy is Finn. She’s out here saving all of us all the time. Welcome back :)

Darcy smiled at that one. She’d convinced Clint and the scientists to watch Adventure Time.

America’s Ass: I am so confused.

America’s Ass: [download image]

Darcy laughed as she clicked on Steve’s gif. It was Lemongrab screaming ‘unacceptable.’ She didn’t know which was funnier: Steve not knowing what was going on and actually picking a gif from Adventure time, OR Steve having watched Adventure Time on his own and trolling them.

Alien of Thunder: My lightning sister has returned to the glorious group chat!

Alien of Thunder: This is cause for celebration!

Darcy sighed and smiled at her friends’ antics. Her anxiety had leveled out and she was feeling better than she had in days. First, she got to see Tony’s lovely face. Now she got to text with her friends.

However, it was time to finish Steve’s sweater.

“Friday,” she called out to the speaker in her living room. “Play ‘The Final Countdown,’” Darcy grinned a shark-like grin as she sat in her recliner and got her needles out. She could do this.

It was two more days before she called Tony again.

“What’s up stranger?” He asked when Darcy’s face popped up on the screen.

“I need to have something delivered to each of you. Can you help?” She looked over at the pile of sweaters wrapped in brown paper.

“Yeah, sure. Bruce did some tests on Steve and he seems to be immune due to his super DNA. He can pick it up and deliver it,” Tony was fiddling with a machine and Darcy nodded.

“I’ll text him then, thanks Tony!” And with that she hung up. Though she quickly shot a text to Steve.

I have a mission, should you choose to accept it.

While she waited, she decided to deep clean her room. Nothing would help her get out of her quarantine depression like summer cleaning! Once the entire apartment was vacuumed, mopped, dusted, and Lysol’d, she checked her phone again. Steve just replied.

Hit me with it.

She chuckled and sent back a picture of the stack of presents and the caption: I made something for each of you guys and I need help delivering it.

A moment later she sent another text: Tony said you were immune to the virus so I was wondering if you would help.

It only took a few minutes for Steve to reply.

Sure thing, Darcy :)

She smiled, he was genuinely one of the kindest people she’d met. He was just her type, too: tall, strong, he could swear like a sailor (not that he would let Tony know). While she was pondering her crush on the American icon, a knock sounded on her door, startling her out of her daydream and making her heart rate soar.

Hurrying over to the peephole, she let out a sigh of relief. It was Steve.

When she opened the door he looked down and smiled. When Darcy looked down, she noticed her outfit: a pair of black leggings (thankfully she had decided on pants that morning), and a “HULK SMASH” t-shirt with green and purple tie dye. Well, no use being bashful, she smiled gratefully at the man and let him in.

“I guess since you’re immune you’re allowed to come in,” she quipped and Steve chuckled.

“Thanks,” he rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “What did you make?”

“It’s a surprise,” Darcy winked and Steve felt a blush creep up his neck. “I can’t tell you because I made you one, too. You can’t open yours until everyone else has theirs, too. Okay? And no peeking at theirs. And don’t look in the group chat until you open it. Got it?”

“That’s a lot of rules, Darce,” he was smiling, standing in her newly cleaned apartment and in her personal space like it was totally normal and she hadn’t been isolated for nearly a month.

“I know, but it’s an important mission,” she loaded his arms up with little brown packages and sighed when he went to leave. He turned back to her with a curious look on his face. “It’s nice being able to see somebody in person,” she shrugged and he nodded sagely.

“Well, after I go see everyone I should self-isolate for a few days to make sure I’m not carrying any germs, but maybe after we can get together and watch a movie?” He cocked his head and smiled that winning smile at her.

“That would be lovely,” Darcy couldn’t help but return his smile, and hurried to escort him out. “No peeking!” She called as he laughed his way to the stairwell. He was such a good guy.

Darcy waited anxiously as Steve made his way to the tower and the other Avengers’ abodes. It was taking a little while though… Maybe he had walked? Darcy was nervously scrolling through her Instagram feed when the first message popped up.

It was a picture of Clint’s sweater.

HawkDaddy: Oh Em Gee, Darcy. It’s PERFECT.

Darcy felt warmth blooming in her chest at the sentiment. She loved giving to people. She thrived on happiness.

She kept quiet as the pictures started coming in. Tony was next, and then Bruce (probably working in the labs together with their N95 masks on).

Tin man: Short Stack, you’ve outdone yourself.

Attached was a photo of the sweater (front and back) compared to his actual face plate. It was pretty good, if she did say so herself.

Here’s Brucey: This is perfect, Darcy.

Bruce had actually included a selfie of himself giving a thumbs up. It made a giggle bubble up out of her chest. Nat was next, including a picture of her sweater next to her favorite knife and a handgun with the message: They are very realistic, I’m impressed.

That was a good compliment, and it went straight to Darcy’s head.

Thor was next, and he sent a picture of Jane absolutely drowning in the large sweater, and then a close up of a tiny knitted Mjolnir.

Alien of Thunder: A most excellent representation of my hammer, lightning sister. I shall wear it with pride.

Last, she waited for Steve to get home and open his.

When it finally came in, Darcy giggled at the image of Steve wearing a knitted sweater with an eagle and a billowing flag, hands on his hips. It was a sight to be seen.

America’s Ass: I’ve never worn a more appropriate sweater.

Darcy finally wrote in the group chat: Quarantine phase I: Darcy gets bored and knits everyone a sweater.

She was met with ‘LOL’s and laughing face emojis. Life was good for today, nothing dark on the horizon, she’d made her friends happy, and she had an upcoming movie night with Steve.

Darcy settled in on her couch and got ready for a night of Adventure Time.

Darcy spent two days in her post-sweater-delivery happy mood. Two excellent days where she showered, ate three meals, did a workout, messaged all of her friends. But reality set in. She didn’t know when she’d see them again. She didn’t know when she could hug Jane or go back to work. She hadn’t talked to Tony or Pepper but she was still getting her biweekly paychecks. She felt guilty about that. She felt guilty that she wasn’t brainy enough to help fix the virus or strong enough to have fought Dr. Doom’s minions.

So she was laying on her side on the couch listening to sad music on day three after the delivery. She hadn’t showered or eaten yet and it was four in the afternoon. Her phone buzzed and she ignored it, content to wallow in her Star Trek fleece jumpsuit. Her phone may have buzzed a few more times, but Darcy didn’t pay attention. She was busy having some time to herself.

She did just that for another three days, and took notice again of her slimming figure.

“Who knew depression holes and not being hungry would be the thing that finally helped me lose weight?” She asked the universe.

Darcy had gotten another shipment of food and supplies, but she didn’t Lysol down her door or clean each item before using them this time.

And she would pay for it.

She woke up on the sixth day after the sweater delivery feeling oh so tired. Figuring it was due to the lack of sustenance and exercise, Darcy decided to make herself some toast. She barely made it out of her room before the dizziness hit her.

Darcy sent a text to the group.

What are the symptoms? Help a girl out.

She started getting responses immediately.

HawkDaddy: Fever, body aches, fatigue

Nat: Dizziness, lessened appetite

Tin Man: Runny nose, sinus congestion, vomiting

Darcy gulped from her position on the floor (she sat down in the doorway when she started getting dizzy).

How many do I have to have before I have to go see a doctor?

She groaned as she sent the message and pulled herself up, trudging into her kitchen. The thought of ingesting anything nauseated her, so she made her way back to the couch, where she promptly fell asleep.

She woke up at noon choking on her own snot.

“Fuck,” she got the word out before she stumbled into the kitchen to blow her nose. After she’d friction burned her nose by using napkins as tissues, she slowly walked back to the couch (thanks dizziness) to check her phone. Three missed video calls from Tony, one from Jane, and a lot of texts.

America’s Ass: Are you alright, Darcy?

That was not in the group, it was a separate message, so Darcy answered that with a message before looking at the group.

I woke up super tired, super dizzy. Was awake for five minutes before I passed out on the couch. Woke up a disgusting mess and had to blow my nose with napkins because I don’t own tissues. So no, probably not.

Then, she checked the group chat. It was basically a conspiracy theory contest to guess what had happened to Darcy over the past few hours. Had she passed out from sickness? Gotten annoyed and started ignoring them? Fell down the stairs? Gotten kidnapped?

She shook her head and looked down at Steve’s next text.

I’ll make you some soup. Drink lots of water and get lots of rest.

She smiled at the sentiment. Steve was really sweet. She did what he said and grabbed a cup of water before retreating to the couch and scrolling through her Facebook. She kept getting group texts, though, so she put her phone away and threw on some mindless TV.

Darcy woke up to a knock on her door. It startled her, but she figured it was probably Steve. Nobody else would risk coming into contact with another human being. Darcy shuffled over to the door in her fleece pajama pants and birthday hedgehog t-shirt (a classic pajama day outfit) and looked through the peephole. She was right, Steve was awaiting her.

“Hey Darce,” he smiled down at her when she opened the door. “How are you feeling?”

“Like garbage,” she muttered. “Please, come in,” he stepped inside with a Tupperware full of noodle soup. “Oh my god, you really made me soup?” She looked up at him with wide eyes and he smiled bashfully.

“Friends don’t let friends get sick and not have soup,” he laughed and Darcy turned, misty eyed, towards the kitchen. People didn’t often do nice things for her, that was her job.

“You’re a lifesaver, Steven,” she spoke once she’d gotten control of her emotions and ushered him towards the kitchen table. “Come, sit with me,” she groaned as she lowered herself into the chair. The body aches were coming in waves.

“How are you holding up?” He asked once the two were sitting and Darcy had a full bowl of steaming soup in front of her.

“Well I think I’ve definitely got the virus. Either that or I’ve got a serious case of the flu. But I got my flu shot this year so…” She trailed off and shrugged. Steve frowned and reached over to press the back of his hand against her forehead. She tried not to act startled at the contact. It had been… Some amount of weeks since she’d touched another person.

“You do feel warm, do you have a thermometer?” She shook her head at his inquiry and the frown deepened. She didn’t like making Steve frown.

“Is it even worth going to the doctor?” She sighed and slouched into her chair. “It’s not like they can do anything but tell me to ride it out.”

“They could always prescribe you something for the symptoms,” he shrugged, looking thoughtful. “Something for the dizziness and aches.”

“Maybe, I’ll consider it,” she took a careful spoonful of soup and frowned. “I can’t taste it. Why can’t I taste it?” She took another spoonful and looked up at Steve with wide eyes. “Is that a thing?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been keeping up with the news since it doesn’t really affect me,” he trailed off with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll ask Tony.” He whipped out his smartphone and shot a text to Tony, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“I’m so sad I can’t taste your soup,” she was full of woe. “This is a travesty,” she whined and set the spoon back down. “I wasn’t even hungry and now I can’t taste anything?” She looked up at Steve with a pout.

“You should still eat, Darcy. I know it’s not super pleasant, but you need fuel,” he offered her a sympathetic smile, and gestured for her to take another bite, which she did (albeit slowly and with less excitement). “Tony said loss of smell and taste is a common symptom,” Darcy stood abruptly, ignoring the dizziness to find her lighter and light the ocean scented candle that had been sitting on her counter for a year. She lit it without preamble and then leaned in to give it a good sniff.

“Awe, come on,” she bemoaned, looking at Steve with that rumpled kitten look that made him want to wrap her up in a blanket and cuddle her.

“No scent either, huh?” He asked and she nodded, blowing out the candle before returning to her soup. “You’ll get through this. I’d be happy to drive you to the doctor if you’re not feeling well enough to drive,” Steve offered and Darcy was struck once again by how kind this man was.

“You’re too nice, Steve. Someone’s going to snatch you up one day,” she winked conspiratorially at him. He flushed, and she smiled inwardly. “Though, I don’t have a physician. I just go to medical at the tower.”

Steve hummed in understanding. It made sense for her, she lived, ate, and worked in the tower. No need to find a physician elsewhere when she could get treated at the state of the art facilities right nearby.

“To the tower then?” He asked as Darcy took the last few bites of her soup.

“To the tower,” she confirmed.

“Would you like to go now?”

She thought for a moment.

“Let me change and grab a mask from Tony’s most recent grocery drop. And then I’ll be ready,” she wanted to rush, but moving too fast had her head spinning. So, she shuffled over to her room, one hand on the wall at all times to keep her precarious balance.

Once she was in a pair of comfy leggings and a warm sweater (this one was violet), she threw a beanie over her slightly dirty hair and slapped a mask on her face.

“I’m ready,” her voice was muffled and Steve raised his eyebrows.

“It’s summer, and you have a fever,” he was nearly chiding her and she pouted. Unfortunately, the look went unnoticed past her mask.

“I’m chilly,” she finally said and he got that worried look again.

“Come on,” he held his arm out for her to take and she latched on gratefully. The dizziness was getting to her. “I texted Tony and asked him to have someone ready at medical for us,” he spoke softly as they headed for the elevator. It was a short ride down, and not too long by the time they made it to the tower.

“Short Stack, you look severely overdressed,” Tony was also wearing a mask, maybe two by the looks of it. He eyed their linked arms and quirked an eyebrow. “What’s that about?” He wasn’t one to mince words.

“Tony, now is not the time,” Darcy grunted through her mask. “I am freezing, I am dizzy, I sneezed into this mask more than once. I need Steve to help keep me from falling over. Are we good here?” She narrowed her eyes, attempting to get her frustration across without the lower half of her face. It worked.

“Right as rain, follow me,” Darcy could see his fingers flying over his fancy phone, but couldn’t tell who he was messaging. Her phone wasn’t vibrating, so it was unlikely to be the group chat.

When they made it to medical, Steve helped Darcy into a chair and then stood there for a moment, looking out of place.

“You’re welcome to stay and sit, Steve. You could also go explore the tower or something but I am unlikely to stand up without assistance again,” she spoke quietly, and he gave her a little smile before sitting down next to her.

“Not much for me to do in the tower, what with everybody being home from work,” he shrugged. “I have been going a little stir crazy.”

“You and I both. I miss Jane and her crazy science benders. I miss all of the scientists, actually,” Darcy frowned, picking at her fingernails (a habit she’d picked up recently). “I miss family dinner nights,” she muttered and Steve nodded in agreement.

“You do make excellent dinners, and it’s nice having some off-time with the others,” he added and she smiled with her eyes.

“Thanks, Steve-o.”

It looked like he wanted to say something else (she could tell because he didn’t need to wear a mask), but doctor McCoy walked in.

“You look tired, doc,” Darcy commented. There were red lines around where his mask sat on his face, and his usually fiery eyes were dulled.

“It’s been a long few weeks, Lewis,” he countered and she nodded. “Captain Rogers,” he nodded to Darcy’s escort and the super soldier nodded back.

“Bones has been dealing with me since I moved to the tower. For all sorts of things,” Darcy explained their familiarity.

“You come here a lot?” Steve asked with a concerned laugh.

“I get into a lot of lab accidents. One time Thor hugged me too hard and bruised my ribs. Clint once fell out of the vents and onto me and gave me a head injury. For someone as robust looking as I am, I am quite fragile,” she shrugged at Steve’s bewildered look.

“Well you are only human,” Doctor McCoy noted before getting into professional mode and taking her vitals.

“Why are you called Bones?” Steve asked when he was taking Darcy’s temperature.

“It’s a nickname his college roommate gave him, you tell him doc,” Darcy smirked and the good doctor rolled his eyes.

“My wife got everything in the divorce. I got nothin left but my bones,” he sighed dramatically before announcing that she had a fever. “What other symptoms are you having?” As they got into the nitty gritty, Steve reclined in his chair and watched with interest. It seemed like Darcy had friends everywhere. In medical, in the labs, with the security team and the Avengers. Hell, he’d even seen her bring coffee down to accounting before.

“I’m gonna be straight with you, Lewis,” the doctor sighed, looking down at his notes. “There’s not much I can do for this virus but treat the symptoms and hope you ride this out. You can take this for the fever, and this for the runny nose and sneezing,” he looked up at her as he passed the post it note over. “Not much I can do for your taste, smell, and dizziness, but I’d suggest keeping in contact with your resident super soldier in case something happens,” he eyed Steve up at that, and the other man nodded his agreement. “Drink lots of water, invest in some gatorade. Don’t drink it straight, mix it half and half with water. It tastes gross but it’s better for you. Get some rest, and I suggest finding a show to binge watch until you’re feeling better.”

“Any recommendations for that, Doc?”

“I highly recommend Star Trek,” he murmured with a smile.

“And any recommendations on how to stop being so fucking depressed about this quarantine situation?” She was half joking, and the doctor chuckled.

“Damn it Lewis,” he shook his head. “I’m a doctor, not a therapist,” it actually made her laugh, and Steve was disappointed by how muffled it sounded from behind her mask.

“I’ll have to find one of those, then,” she laughed as she went to get up, holding onto the back of the chair. “Thanks for these, doc,” she waved the paper in front of her and latched onto Steve when he offered his arm again.

“Take care of yourself,” he called as the two left the room.

“He seems like a swell guy,” Steve commented and Darcy hummed.

“He is. He deserves better than what he got, but it is what it is,” she shrugged. “You ready to head home, soldier?” She looked up at him and he got the feeling she was smiling.

“Sure am,” he replied, and when they got back Darcy shooed Steve off for a little while so she could take a bath and clean up.

“Want to come over for a movie later?”

“As long as it’s not The Hunger Games again,” Steve laughed and Darcy smirked, now that her mask was off.

“What, Clint’s favorite is getting to you?”

“I’m just curious how he gets to pick every time,” Steve emphasized as he made his way to the door.

Darcy only shrugged.

“We pick based on arbitrary things. Who ate the most pop tarts this week. Who wore the least amount of yellow. Who won the prank war. Etcetera,” she shrugged.

Steve only rolled his eyes before he waved and left.

Darcy sagged. Walking around and being peppy had exhausted her. Since when did she need to recharge after socializing. When this was all over, she’d need to reacclimate to her extroverted life.

They watched Star Trek that night (the one with Chris Pine) and Darcy stayed sick for four more days. She was avidly enjoying the group chat and her Netflix subscription since she couldn’t focus enough to knit and couldn’t do much else. Steve came by often to hang out or share meals with her. Sometimes they just sat on the couch and talked. It was nice getting to know him better. She’d always had a surface relationship with him. Not in a bad way, but they were both always busy.

When she was feeling better, she knitted him a pair of comfy socks and baked him some molasses cookies in thanks. He said it wasn’t a problem, he liked spending time with her. She blushed profusely but insisted he take them.

Darcy sometimes felt so unbearably lonely and sad, feeling stuck in her own home was hard. But she checked herself and reminded herself that she was very lucky. Not everyone got to hang out with a super soldier on the daily. Someone who couldn’t get sick. It was hard to remind herself that she had it better than a lot of people. But then again, a lot of people didn’t live alone and had their families to be around. It was weird. She wasn’t sure if she should be grateful or guilty.

She talked about her conflicting feelings with Steve a week after she got better.

“I just don’t know whether I should be grateful that I have you, and that I’m not alone, or whether I should feel guilty that I still feel stuck here and lonely when I do have you. Or on the third hand, whether I should be feeling some sort of way that I haven’t picked up a new skill or started working out in the past…” She trailed off and started counting her fingers. “Nearly seven weeks?”

Steve nodded.

“Nearly seven weeks,” he said with a sigh. They were both hoping the brains of the operation would have figured out a cure or a vaccine by now. She knew they were close, but it was so hard to figure out something when you had to be so careful of working around others. “But you shouldn’t feel bad, Darcy. I mean, I feel guilty that I am not being affected the way everyone else is, but I’m still alone a lot. And I am grateful to be around you so much. I have to quarantine for everyone else’s sake in case I can carry the virus,” he shrugged. “It’s a tough situation and it’s been hard on all of us. But that doesn’t make your feelings any less valid.”

“You’re very emotionally intelligent for someone who is like… mentally around thirty,” Darcy smiled softly and Steve huffed a laugh.

“Thanks, I think. I just spent a lot of my young adult life being left out of things and having to deal with them on my own, with only Bucky,” he sighed. “You have to learn to deal with the emotional and mental side of things when physically you’re like… Five foot two and a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

Darcy let out a little laugh.

“Not relatable, dude. I mean yeah, I’m five foot three. So pretty close. But I haven’t been under a hundred pounds since middle school,” she gestured vaguely at her chest. “When I got the girls, it added like five pounds minimum,” she shook her head good naturedly and Steve chuckled.

“I couldn’t even imagine being a woman in this day and age,” he sighed.

“I couldn’t imagine being a tiny ball of rage and righteousness in the thirties and forties,” Darcy countered and they shared a laugh.

Darcy had been counting. It was July when it all started. It would be September 20th on the morrow. But Tony had texted in the group. Some students at Oxford had come up with a vaccine and were working on it with a group of American doctors and scientists.

Darcy got vaccinated in November and was back at the tower (without a mask) by December.

“Jane!” Darcy squealed when she saw her tiny boss tinkering with a machine.

“Darcy!” Unlike previous encounters where Jane would ignore her for a machine, the scientist ran over to Darcy and they embraced each other.

“Can I get in on this group hug?” Clint climbed with supreme agility from the overhead air vent.

“Naturally, you jack-booted thug,” Jane said with misty eyes and a wavering voice. The two women were suddenly enclosed in a big circle of biceps.

“I have notified Sir of the group hug. The others will be here shortly,” JARVIS spoke and Darcy giggled, happy to see all of her friends again. Soon Tony, Nat, Bruce, and Thor were all joining in. Steve walked in on it and Darcy had an idea.

“Have y’all ever heard of a cinnamon roll hug?” She broke away from the group to grab Steve’s hand and pull him towards the commotion.

“Never.”

“Nope.”

“Sounds interesting.”

She nodded at the responses. She could make it work.

“We did it in college for team bonding. Everyone hold hands and stand in a straight line,” they did as instructed, and Darcy smirked. Thor would love this.

“Thor, start rolling in. Like a cinnamon roll,” Darcy instructed and Thor rolled into Jane, hands still holding. “Now Jane, follow. And everyone roll into it,” soon they were a big circle of hands and torsos and giggles. “Now let go of your hands,” she waited a moment before giving the final instruction. “Now, hug!” They were a mess of giggles by the end of it, but with Thor at the center smiling like a dork and everyone else shaking their heads and smiling, it was worth it.

“I don’t know how you come up with this stuff,” Steve commented once it was just he and Darcy. Jane had run off to get a piece of equipment.

“I learned a lot in college, just not about anything important,” she laughed and Steve smiled down at her warmly.

“Darcy?” He asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Mmhm?” She hummed, making her way towards him.

“Now that we’re out of isolation…” He trailed off as she came to stand closer than arm’s length away from him. “Would you want to get dinner with me?” He gave her that shy half-smile and she couldn’t help but beam up at him.

“I would love nothing more.”

[sarahzstories]

✨Interview with Princess and Narry✨

✨*A/N This is in the format that Niall, Harry and Princess are having a sit down interview with someone for a magazine. I have a Part 2 ready if you are interested, also feel free to send in questions you want the three of them to answer! Enjoy!*✨

Q: How did you really meet? And when?

Niall: At a Christmas party in New York about what like eight years ago?

Princess: Yeah they crashed my aunt’s party and Harry ran into me and spilled a drink all over me.

Harry: It was an accident and I have apologized several times since it happened.

Princess: That’s true he does apologize every year on our friend-anniversary.

Q: Is there a group chat?

Princess: Yes duh.

Harry: It’s called the Three Amigos.

Niall: I love dat it’s been da same name since we made it eight years ago.

Q: Who is the most annoying in the group chat?

Harry: Me

Niall: For sure Harry. He’s da bloody worst at sending incomplete thoughts instead of just thinking about what he’s tryin ta say and sending one long paragraph.

Princess: He just tells us things as they pop into his head is all. It’s not annoying.

Niall: She’s jus sayin dat cos she’s nice.

Harry: No she’s saying that because she does the same thing just not as much as I do. Remember that time she was trying to tell us she ran into Orlando Bloom at Starbucks?

Niall: Bloody hell that was such a shit show of a text conversation.

Princess: I was star struck! I couldn’t form complete sentences!

Q: What are yours names in each other’s phones?

Niall: Harry is jus saved as H an Princess is saved as Princess wit da crown emoji an a heart.

Harry: Niall is the Irish One in my phone and Princess is Bestfriend and it has a sparkle and heart emoji next to it.

Niall: *rolls eyes*

Princess: Oh Harry is saved under Little Lanky Baby with a red heart and Niall is My Little Irish Marshmallow with a clover emoji.

Harry: What? Are you serious?

Niall: Have Ya never noticed our contact names when she sends screenshots?

Harry: I’m not lanky?

Niall: Are ya havin a laugh mate? Yer arse is lanky.

Princess: You really are and that’s okay! Everyone loves it!

Harry: I don’t know how I feel about this...

Princess: You’ll survive.

Q: When do you three actually become as close as you are now? Was it instant?

Harry: I think it was maybe a month after we met. We got really close very fast because we talked all the time.

Niall: I agree, it was pretty fast we jus clicked and I think it was like after a month or so that we invited her to a show and after dat it was like we knew each other fo ever.

Princess: Texting and talking on the phone really helped speed up the getting to know you process. They’ve had a key to my apartment since like six months after knowing them. We all just meshed really well and it’s been great.

Q: Have you ever been in a fight? If so what was it about?

Niall: Oh god...

Harry: Yes. One fight and I don’t like to talk about it. But it was about my debut album details getting out before I was ready.

Princess: He’s so sensitive about this subject but yeah only one so far and it only lasted like three days so wasn’t too bad.

Harry: Wasn’t too bad? It was horrible. We didn’t speak for 72 hours.

Niall: It was all a misunderstanding type thing cos Harry over reacted and got mean and then just didn’t know how to fix it.

Princess: He didn’t overreact. He was right to be mad at me.

Harry: I’m not getting into this.

Niall: It’s been years mate let it go it’s okay you got upset at her, no friendship is perfect, even ours.

Harry: You wanna talk about how you also got mad at her the same day? Or no?

Niall: Jesus Yer in a mood today, m’fine talkin bout our little fight cos it only lasted a day and it was cos I blew things outta proportion.

Princess: Once again it’s fine we are allowed to be upset with each other. Next question?

Harry: Yes. Let’s move on.

Q: Is jealously an issue between the three of you?

Niall: *looks at Harry*

Princess: *also looks at Harry*

Harry: Excuse me, may I help you two with something?

Princess: Wanna talk about getting jealous?

Harry: I don’t get jealous.

Niall: Are ya fuckin jokin? Yer arse is the reason why we have ta have a group calendar so no one gets more one on one time than the other Ya knob!

Harry: That has nothing to do with being jealous. I like to be organized with my time that’s all.

Princess: That’s all? You sure?

Harry: I’m sure.

Princess: So it’s not because one time you realized Niall and I had seen each other three times in one week without you?

Harry: I mean three times in a week is a lot.

Niall: Yer ridiculous mate jus admit ya get jealous whenever P hangs out wit anyone besides you.

Harry: I’m choosing not to respond to that.

Q: Who’s the most protective?

Princess: It’s a toss up between the two of them.

Harry: I’d say i get more protective while Niall is the first to want to fight anyone who makes P feel uncomfortable or makes her cry. But I’m the one who wants to just prevent it at all costs.

Niall: what he means is he would rather P never leave da bloody house.

Harry: It would make it easier...

Princess: I get protective over them as well though!

Harry: *looks at Niall*

Niall:*looks at Harry*

Princess: What? Remember that time I yelled at that man who was trying to take pictures of us at the beach?

Niall: I mean yer right, ya can get protective an are always the first ta tell paps to fuck off.

Harry: She can be very ferocious when she wants to be.

Niall: *laughs*

Princess: Both of you are assholes.

Harry: I didn’t say anything!

Q: Was it easier being friends when Niall and Harry were both in the same band?

Princess: Yes I mean it wasn’t as chaotic trying to figure out what dates work best to see who but also it was a whole different type of chaos when I’d go visit them while they were in One Direction.

Niall: Ya it was wild as hell when she’d come cos we were literally always doin somethin fo tha band either all five of us or dey would separate us into groups and it would be Harry and I and the rest of da boys and we would be shootin promo or even recordin a bloody album!

Harry: It was always her getting shoved in a backseat with us in a car or getting little fifteen minutes breaks to talk and actually see each other between whatever the hell we had to do the days she was on tour with us.

Princess: But the shows were so much fun, but I’d honestly say getting to visit them while on their solo tours is better than when they were in One Direction simply because they get more down time and it’s not always go go go like it was back then.

Niall: I agree, when we get to the venues of our shows we don’t have ten thousand things ta do before the show so we get to chill and hang out.

Harry: It’s really such a different world going on tour now than it was when we toured with One Direction.

Princess: But I honestly would put up with the craziness of visiting them while in One Direction still if I had to.

Niall: Is she-

Harry: Hinting that she wants a One Direction reunion tour? Yes.

Princess: What? That’s not what I meant.

Harry: Mhm...right.

Niall: *laughs*

Princess: *rolls eyes*

Q: Okay but really who do you enjoy hanging out with more?

Niall: *looks at Princess*

Harry: Hmm...

Princess: Is this just a question for me? *raises an eyebrow*

Harry: I have the most fun with Princess.

Niall: Same. Harry makes me wanna smack em upside da head too much when it’s jus tha two of us.

Harry: I could say the same thing about you, you little hobbit.

Princess: I don’t have a favorite. I get asked this all the time on my Instagram and I feel like no one believes me? But I truly don’t have a favorite to hang out with and actually like it when it’s all three of us together.

Q: How do you deal with dating while being so close to the boys? Does it get weird?

Harry: Threats. Lots of threats.

Niall: Oh please we aren’t tha most threatenin set of blokes H. It doesn’t get weird tho cos P doesn’t really date do ya Princess?

Princess: I go on dates yes, I haven’t been in a serious relationship is a while but it’s not weird, everyone I talk to knows I’m friends with Niall and Harry.

Harry: I’d like to think we have more than just a regular friendship...

Princess: I mean yes it’s a bit different. But I let them know before it even gets to us going on dates that the two of them are a massive part of my life.

Niall: Same goes fo us though, I tell the people m’interested in bout P and the fact she’s one of the main people in my life and most of em are fine wit it.

Harry: Everyone who knows me knows about my relationship with Princess and knows that nothing comes before it. She will always come first, like it or not.

Princess: He is so dramatic i swear he makes it sound like I’m the only person in his life that he’s like this with, it’s the same with his family. Not just me.

Niall: Harry is dramatic though but it’s true, everyone that even tries ta get wit H knows three things for sure and it’s that he loves a good Gucci suit, loves his family and his friendship with Princess is untouchable.

Harry: Oh now who sounds dramatic?

Princess: We are going to be single forever aren’t we?

Niall: We could do one of dem packs about getting married if we are single when we are thirty.

Harry: I’d rather not marry you when I’m thirty that’s when I’ll just be starting to thrive.

Niall: Oi! Then when? Ya wanna be so old ya won’t enjoy it?

Harry: You’ll enjoy it no matter the age it happens you knob.

Princess: How about sixty? Still young, I mean look at Bruce he is thriving!

Harry: *rolls eyes* you’ve been dying to bring up Bruce Willis haven’t you?

Niall: Deal.

Harry: I guess I can agree to that.

Q: Favorite thing about each other?

Niall: I’d have to say I enjoy Harry’s opinions, he doesn’t sugar coat em he knows I don’t like all that fake ass stuff so he tells it to me straight.

Harry: You’re quite welcome for always telling you when you’re being an asshole.

Niall: Ya gotta ruin every moment don’t ya? Anyways I’d say my favorite thing bout Princess would be...her ability to jus know what I need and when I need it.

Harry: It’s kind of freaky how she does that though right? The texts are the creepiest.

Niall: Right? Like when she can jus sense ya’ve had a bad day so she sends ya Dis heartwarming text and yer jus like how the bloody fuck did she know??

Princess: I just know you both so well! I can’t help it.

Harry: It’s great love, we love it.

Niall: doesn’t make it any less creepy though.

Princess: Well I’d say my favorite thing about Niall is that he has this ability to make everyone around him instantly feel comfortable and like at home if that makes any sense?

Harry: I can agree, he’s very good at making everyone around him feel at ease.

Princess: And my favorite thing about Harry is he has this weird way of knowing how you need to be comforted. Like he knows when to just hold your hand, when to pull you in for a hug or just when you grab you and hold you. It’s lovely.

Niall: Ah yeah dis is so true. Always tryin ta hug me.

Harry: Well I don’t see you fighting me off.

Niall: Oi yer arse didn’t answer what yer fave things are bout us, do ya not have one?

Harry: I love Niall’s sense of humor, we both have the same type of lame humor and laugh at the stupidest stuff. My favorite thing about Princess is probably how she just gets me and lets me be me.

Princess: *sniffles* Can we move on?

Niall: Way ta go got er all watery eyed now.

Harry: I’m not the one who asked the question! I just answered it. You got her all emotional too you knob.

Q: Have you written any songs about your friendship?

Niall: Yeah Harry have we?

Harry: *rolls eyes* yes.

Princess: Go on, just tell them.

Niall: Yeah H jus tell em. Get it off yer chest.

Harry: You’re in such a mood today. Fine. I wrote meet me in the hallway about when Princess and I had a fight.

Niall: And...

Harry: I wrote Adore You with her in mind about her effect on the people around her. That she has no clue she has.

Princess: What about you Niall?

Harry: Yes hobbit what about you hmmm?

Niall: I wrote the Tide while thinking about her when she was datin that one arsehole.

Harry: And?

Niall: Fine you arse I also wrote Mirrors about her as well.

Harry: Oh and if you’re wondering about One Direction songs the main one we wrote about our friendship is Drag Me Down.

Niall: S’pretty obvious though, s’fo her and da whole fandom really.

Princess: That is my hype song. So damn good.

Q: What’s a memory the three of you cherish?

Princess: Oh that’s a good one!

Niall: S’gotta be when we all went ta Cabo fo a week like three years ago and we jus laid in the sun by the beach all day and got drunk off wine at night an it was one of tha most relaxing vacations I’ve ever had.

Harry: That was a great trip.

Princess: Mine is when we had our first sleepover at my tiny ass New York apartment. When we did face masks and ended up passing out on my bed watching Will and Grace. I think that next morning is when I really realized you two were going to literally be my humans forever.

Harry: Oh the good ole days of our sleepovers and trying to squeeze onto your loveseat. Mine is the time when Niall and I had to go get you from the bar when you got too drunk on a Monday night.

Princess: That’s your most cherished memory? Really?

Harry: Yes, because that was the first time you ever used us as your like emergency contact and the first time we had to come save you. You weren’t super wasted, Niall and I just had to make sure you got home safe and it was nice because you kept telling us how much you loved us.

Niall: Now we always gotta come save er, member that one time we had ta crash her date wit dat golf dude?

Princess: Oh god

Harry: That was fun! He was a proper dick.

Princess: Next question?

Q: This is the last one, who said I love you first out of the three of you?

Princess: It was Niall

Harry: I know everyone is gonna be shocked to hear it wasn’t me.

Niall: I mean yeah it was me. M’not ashamed of it. I was tellin P bye and was like love ya and she said love you too Ni and then Harry got all mushy an was like, what did ya say H?

Princess: He said and I quote “if we are saying we love each other I want to be involved because I love you too!”

Harry: Sounds about right.

Niall: That was like what three months into the friendship?

Harry: Yeah five or take a few weeks.

Princess: Now we say it all the time!

Harry: So that’s it then yeah?

Interviewer: Yeah that’s it! Thank you so much for your time this was so fun.

Niall: It was fun gettin ta hear what people wanna know bout the three of us. Hope it wasn’t borin.

Princess: Us boring? Never.

[miss-choco-chips]

Good influence, bad influence.

Tim is one of those, and he gets the other one. Guess which is which. Ft a murder kitten, two oblivious birds, a divorce-preventing baby and a murderous mother.

(Thanks to @the-quiet-carrotcake who helped me think this through on chat and gave me ideas (THANKS BABE), and tagging @animemangasoul because they understand my need to ALWAYS include Kon when writting about Tim.

This sat on my wips for so long now, so I’m not even proofreading it. Just take it away, please)

-----.-----

-Are you sure I can’t just stab her?

-Really sure.

-How much?

-Like, 100% sure.

-You told me once it’s impossible to ever/

-...be 100% sure of something, I know. Which is how you know I mean it now.

Damian puffed his cheeks. Tim was sure that, in his mind’s eye, he looked dignifiedly annoyed. In reality, it was adorable. But since Damian currently held his right hand hostage, and was probably holding onto his dagger inside his pocket with the other one, he didn’t want to risk pointing it out. He just tugged him away, swimming through the masses, as Damian had called them upon entering the ballroom.

-But why not? 

It was as close to a whine a sound as the kid could make, which upped his adorable factor another notch. 

-You’d get blood on your suit, for one. And then, my mom would kill you.

A little shudder at the mention of Janet Drake, though the kid composed himself quickly- I wouldn’t let a single drop fall on me, cousin. I’m not an amateur.

Since Damian would have used another, more offensive word not so long ago, Tim ignored the pointed look he got when he said ‘amateur’. Also, the use of modern slang was something he was painstakingly drilling into him, so he was quiet proud when it bore fruits.

-Also, you’d draw attention to ourselves. And that woman didn’t even do anything worthy of such a reaction.

-She dared touch me! Treated me like, like… like a kid!

Pointing out that he, in fact, was one wouldn’t go well, so Tim’s mind offered an alternative route. 

-You don’t know? -he blurted out, feigning surprise. Damian looked up at him, eyes squinting suspiciously, and there, very well hidden (but not enough he didn’t notice) a little hesitancy.

-Know what?

Tim let go of the little, calloused hand, and placed both of his on the slimmer shoulders, bending down a bit to be face to face with his charge for the night. The blond wig and round glasses weren’t enough to hide Damian’s almost aristocratic features, but they sure managed to misdirect someone about his bloodline. No one would be able to tell he was Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul’s son, which was kinda the idea.

It had been a chore, to put the disguise in the proud boy, but Tim had been the one to achieve it when he dressed it as a training exercise: they had to make it through the party without its host, Mr Wayne, recognizing him.

Easy peasy, or so he had told mother when he assured her she could go make business with aunt Nicole and leave them be. He hadn’t calculated… well, other people.

-About Mrs Stingdom’s homeland.

Damian was too dignified to look over his shoulder at the lady in question, but Tim could see he wanted to.

-She’s a gothamite -he pointed out, because as Tim had suggested, he did his homework about who was attending to the party. A bit, at least. The story of so many boring socialites was too much to bear.

-She married a gothamite -he explained, doing his best to look stern about Damian’s apparent misinformation-. She’s actually from another land, which is why she pinched your checks. In her culture, it’s a sign of utmost respect towards people under ten years old who are still considered to be superiors, despite their age.

It sounded far fetched, even to his own ears, but he was playing into Damian’s social incompetency and his arrogance at believing himself above all others, which is why the kid nodded slowly after a few seconds, eating the whole lie in one bite.

His bespectacled eyes bore into his, brows furrowed. His hands went to Tim’s, still on his shoulders, a little unsure.

-Should I expect more of this… cultural difference? So I won’t be underprepared, should anyone else wish to pay me their respects in a new manner?

Sensing a chance to prevent a future stabbing, Tim was quick to nod. Mom was going to be so proud!

----.----

A little later that night, a new issue arose. Since Tim was pretty busy handling the seven year old, he had to forgo his usual Wayne-party routine, which was basically to find one of the sons and hide with them for the rest of the night.

Of course, neurotic bastards like them wouldn’t take a change in routine go like that. Because Bruce has instilled paranoia and curiosity on them like Alfred did with manners, and sadly, the last one’s teachings rarely showed up.

-Timmy! Here you are. I was worried, since you never approached us. Aww, who’s this kid? You made a friend?

He groaned internally. Dick, and behind him he could spot Jason, eyebrow arched at the novelty of Tim not looking for them immediately. He wanted to, thrived in the chance to spend even a few minutes with his idols, but duty calls, and his mind didn’t like the possibles outcomes would Damian and the Waynes meet.

-Hey, Dick… Jay. Good evening -he smiled politely, hand clutching tighter Damian’s. Don’t notice, don’t notice, please don’t notice.

To his immense relief, none of them seemed to find anything noteworthy in Damian’s face, which… was also kinda disappointing, despite him wishing for it. Like, yeah, the wig and glasses were good misdirect, but really? He would have noticed the similarities with Bruce despite them, and those two were supposedly detectives…

-Stop being so formal, kid -grumbled Jason, big hand making a mess of Tim’s styled hair. He would have complained, but… Jason’s voice and hand, okay? He was a weak teenager. Don’t judge him- Know ya since y’were  half that heigh, and lighter than my jacket.

Tim’s hormones ignored the comment on him being small, and  focused on the mental image of the mentioned jacket, most likely leather and well worn. 

…This was so not the time for  fantasizing. 

A tiny, calloused hand slapped Jason’s away, which promptly changed the mood.

-Don’t touch my cousin, you/

But Tim had prepared for this outcome, so his own hand rose just as quickly to cover Damian’s mouth.

At the word ‘cousin’, both heroes looked very interested. Tim was under no delusions, well aware Bruce and each of his adopted children had made their own background checks on him and his entire family, so they would know Damian’s claim to familiarity to be a lie, but they also couldn't really call them out on it without making it obvious they investigated him.

His head was already hurting for all the social maneuvering he had to do to keep out of trouble, and now, adding two concerned birds and one murderous kitten, it was even worse.

This was going to be a very, very long night. But both mom and Nicole had asked him, so he wouldn’t try to get out of being a (as) good (as possible) role model.

---------------.----------

Tim winced, muscles locking in a poor attempt at not showing it. From the look Conner gave him, at the other side of the room where he was being chewed out by Lex, he failed miserably at hiding his pain; which, in turn, enraged his mom even more.

-What. Did. You. DO?!

The hand not currently held by his mother went to his ear, protecting it from the almost demonic screech. He could see Auntie Nicole doing the same, sitting with Damian on the couch, sharing tea and cookies as they watched the whole show. The nine year old showed a surprising amount of sympathy towards Tim’s injuries, for someone who had been harshly trained since birth and had recently begun a career as vigilante (not that Tim was supposed to know about it, though). Or was it pity because of mom’s rage?

-You told me no tights and spandex! Never said anything about a mask and a hoodie, and Conner and the guys really needed my help with strategizing -he defended himself, because even if he shouldn't know about the waynes being heroes, he had been Conner’s friend since he found and subsequently freed him from Lex’s secret lab, which in turn warranted mom’s rule against heroing that he had just broke-. And don’t yell at me, I can hear you perfectly fine.

-I’M NOT YELLING! -she lied, tightening the bandage, scowl growing in power-, AND MASKS WERE IMPLIED AS A NO! Also, what are those if not thighs?

-Skinny jeans!

-They are indecent, that’s what they are!

On the other side of the room, Kon seemed to be having a less exhausting time than Tim. Lucky bastard, Luthor had less experience in parenthood, hadn’t yet reached the Scolding Mastery level.

-Hey! Auntie Nicole dresses like that -he points to the woman, who raises an eyebrow- and you don’t tell her anything! Look at her cleavage, you can almost see her bellybutton! 

-Leave me out of this -asked the woman, taking the teapot to refill Damian’s cup; he, in turn, handed her the cookies platter.

Ignoring her best friend, Janet snapped again- NICOLE ISN’T MY STUPID FOURTEEN YEAR OLD SON, WHO IS NEVER SEEING THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN!

-What light of day? This is Gotham, we don’t have sunlight anyway. And I’m not stupid, my IQ is higher than everyone’s in this room.

-IT SURELY LOOKS LIKE YOU ARE FROM WHERE I’M STANDING, HERE, RE-BANDAGING YOUR ARM!

Tim sighed, locking eyes with Conner in solidarity; or he wanted to, but the smug bastard’s scolding was over and he and Luthor had joined the Al Ghuls in their tea party.

-Come on, mom. This’ but a scratch.

-YOU GOT SEVEN STITCHES!!!! I can’t believe this.

She barely got her son out of vigilantism by monitoring his Wayne-Interaction and threats of boarding school and then he went and befriended a group of teen heroes and threw all her hard work straight to the trash. No, he skipped that part, he went directly to the dumpster and burried her good intentions under a pile of shit.

But really, she couldn’t very well make him entirely responsible of this, not when he got carried away by Conner’s ‘do the right thing’ speech. And Conner had came into their lives because of…

In blind rage, she finished her patch job on her son’s arm and turned in a flash to face Lex, whose face went quickly from amused to scared.

-WHY DID YOU THINK IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO HAVE A KID WITH SUPERMAN?

Sensing she was done with him, Tim went to sit by Kon, who moved a bit on his individual couch so they could share it, though it was a very tight fit.

-Clone -he corrected helpfully, TTK bringing Tim his coffee cup closer.

-Did I stutter? And I wasn’t talking to you, was I?

Nicole seemed like she was having the time of her life right now- So hey, listen, between you and LITERAL SUPERMAN, who was the one on the receiving end when you pictured yourself having a kid with him? Like, who was getting it? Because, pal, odds aren’t in your favor, you know.

-Don’t be stupid, dear -huffed Janet, looking at her friend’s green eyes and calming don infinitesimally- If he was actually getting it, he wouldn't have resorted to having his kid to get his attention.

-IT’S A CLONE, AND I ABSOLUTELY DIDN’T MAKE HIM TO GET THAT ALIEN’S ATTENTION! He’s my enemy, not my lover, what is wrong with you people.

-Am I a divorce-preventing baby? -asked Kon to Tim, raising an eyebrow. The other kid just shrugged.

-Looks like it. Not like Uncle Lex had any other way to keep Superman from leaving him…

-I’m right here.

-I know, Uncle Lex. I love you, but you need to rethink your choices. If the man wants to go, let him go. Kon doesn’t need any brothers. I can’t deal with more of him, one is more than enough.

[obligatorynasty]

The Weight of the Knife, Part 1: Edgeless

— Sequel to I’ll Be the Fight to Your Flight, Baby. [Read on Tumblr | AO3]

Part: [1] [2] [3] | Read on: AO3 | WC: ~10k | Please excuse any typos.

Main Tags: BadBoy!Tony, Highschool AU, NFF, Angst, TW:Mentions of Blood, TW:Abuse, TW:Graphic Depictions of Violence, TW:Bullying, TW:Underage Drinking and Smoking, Bruises, Choking, [Read all tags on AO3]

Dedicated to @starker-stories, whose love for this AU kept me motivated to write more.

~*1*~

When Peter crossed the threshold into the Stark mansion, the first image that etched itself into his mind was the painting that hung in the foyer. It was massive; nearly covering a two-story wall from ceiling to floor. Adorned with an ornate frame, it stood out from its modern surroundings – partially due to the happy visage of Howard Stark and the even happier young Tony – but mainly due to the large white sheet draped over half of the frame. Peter could tell from the gentle feminine hand placed atop the young Tony's shoulder that it was his mother, Maria Stark, who was obscured. It was hard to fathom – covering a painting in such a blatant way – but watching Tony completely ignore it was even harder. The image was so ingrained that the impact Peter felt was nothing more than a diluted normalcy to Tony.

So Peter didn't bring it up. Instead, he made small talk about the twelve car garage and the unbelievable size of the chandelier that hung in the dining room. He remarked about the mansion’s eerie spotlessness; a feeling like no one lived there or, as Tony clarified, like a dozen house staff maintained the property. He chatted about the practically untouched furniture and how the polished marble tiles squeaked beneath their sneakers, echoing against the high ceilings, as they hurried to the lab. 

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here, Tones?” Peter asked, each new step into the mansion scratching at his latent anxieties.

“Definitely not but that just makes it more fun, doesn’t it, baby?” 

Tony delivered the line with a heap of charm and that signature bad boy grin. He was so nonchalant, never bothered and always teasing. Sometimes Peter couldn’t believe he was dating the infamous bad boy; the fearsome fighter; the unhinged delinquent; Tony – fucking – Stark. Yet, in their six amazing months as a couple, Peter has had the pleasure of seeing him more as the remarkable genius, the hilarious car singer, and the loyal friend. Sure, Tony was a bad boy through and through but Peter had given him the space to be anything other than that and, so far, they were thriving because of it.

“Maybe it’s more fun for you, but I’m stressed. I’m anxious. I’m-” Peter was stunned into silence when Tony ushered him into the lab. The workspace was a sharp contrast to the rest of the house. It was cluttered; multiple workbenches and desks scattered with complex machinery and technological marvels. “I’m in heaven.” Peter sighed dreamily.

Tony laughed, leaning close, whispering in Peter’s ear a very flirty, “I know something else that could take you to heaven.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Tony!” Peter giggled, jumping away from his boyfriend, his face flushed pink. “We’re in your dad’s lab !” His laughter trailed off as he wandered the room. His nerd senses were on overdrive and his attention to everything else was waning in the face of all the robotic spectacles and hologram capabilities. 

“You’re right.” Tony threw his hands up in surrender. “Wouldn’t want to get caught in here.”

“Exactly,” Peter nodded, brows furrowing in focus as he examined a circuit board that seemed to be forgotten in a pile of desk clutter. “Are you sure your dad isn’t coming home any time soon?”

“I’m sure enough." Tony smiled, stepping forward to hook his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “But let’s stay focused, sweetheart. I promise I’ll show you around more next time.”

“Okay,” Peter pouted, ditching the circuit board and falling out of his tech-obsessed trance, allowing Tony to lead him to the large hologram screen at the center of the room. 

“Plus, we have that thing at your place later,” Tony said as he began navigating the screen with small flicks of his hand. “I just need to find one thing on this computer and then we can go to the... what exactly did Auntie call it again?”

“Our six month anniversary dinner extravaganza,” Peter punctuated each word with grand hand gestures, all coated in sarcasm. “Catered by chef May ,” Peter joked, mocking his aunt’s voice. “Why she thinks we care about things like that is beyond me.”

“Oh?” Tony glanced at his boyfriend with a raised brow and a sly smile. “But I got you a gift, baby.”

“No, you didn’t!” Peter laughed, playfully pushing against Tony’s shoulder. “You said we’d celebrate a year. You said that.” He paused, eyebrows momentarily knitting in concern, “Wait, you didn’t actually get me something, did you?”

“And what if I did?”

“I would obviously fall into an empty-handed panic.” Peter feigned terror, emphasizing his jest by throwing a dramatic hand against his forehead before letting his expression drop into a small pout. “But, really, did you get one?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but it’s not like I need a gift in return.” Tony stopped searching the console, glancing at Peter with suggestive eyes. “You can just let me fuck the lights out of my virgin boyfriend and we'll call it even.”

“Tony! Oh my-” Peter blushed, covering his face and laughing into his hands as the embarrassment bubbled within him. “O-Okay, first of all, MJ says virginity is a construct.”

“And as usual, she’s right,” Tony joined the laughter, shaking his head as his focus drifted back to the computer. “Virginity is a construct – and with all the shit we’ve done, calling you a virgin just wouldn’t do that mouth justice, sweetheart – but still, it doesn’t stop me from wanting to fuck you until you’re a mess.”

Peter froze, his cheeks going a deeper red at his boyfriend’s candid words and his mind running through memories of their most fervent makeout sessions. Like the time Tony used Peter’s mouth – just fucking used it however he wanted. Or the time he naively wondered how his boyfriend managed to last for so long and Tony proceeded to edge him for an hour. And Peter still got goosebumps whenever he thought about that time in Tony’s backseat when he first learned what frotting was. Fuck , he could go on forever but the soft touch of his boyfriend’s hand smoothing through his hair pulled his focus.

“I know we’re joking and shit but- will you...or I mean, do you want to?”

And Peter could tell by the way Tony averted his eyes, speaking so nervous and low, that the question was serious. So, for a moment, he considered if this was the right time to say yes; if this was the right time to go all the way. Yet, he struggled with that phrase – that right time and the inherent importance it somehow held. As if sex was a special frontier that he needed to cross with care. It was strange because although this type of sex was new, being sexual was not; being close to Tony was not; being intimate was not. There were far more important milestones to worry about, so why was his heart thrumming so loud at the mere thought of answering?

“Okay,” Peter finally spoke, solidifying his answer with a smile and a nod. “How about during the break? I-Is that okay?”

“Wait, for real?” Tony perked up, his expression beaming. “I mean, no pressure, baby. You don’t actually have to if you don’t want to, but if you want to – like really fucking want to, not some my-boyfriend-wants-to-so-I-want-to bullshit – then yes. Hell yes. The break is fucking perfect. It’s-”

“Okay, don’t get too excited,” Peter giggled, leaning against Tony’s shoulder and breathing in the older boy’s scent to calm his nerves. “I want to, so I’ll have to p-prep and stuff, but yeah- last day of school is in two days so we’ll have time this weekend to – I don’t know – focus on it, or I mean- um... fuck , talking about it like this is weird.”

Tony pressed a kiss to the top of Peter’s head, “First rule of fucking: Don’t do any fucking until you can actually talk about fucking.”

“Good tip,” Peter crossed his arms and grinned. “Should I credit Pepper or Bruce for that one?”

“Wow, excuse you,” Tony shook his head, mirroring Peter’s grin. “It was actually Rhodey. His dad taught him about sex stuff and he taught me.” His smile faded then, “I mean, it’s not like my old man would teach me anything about that shit anyway.”

Peter’s expression fell solemn, “The important thing is that you learned it, right?” He slipped a gentle hand underneath Tony’s leather jacket, rubbing comforting circles into the small of his back. “If it makes you feel any better, ever since we started dating, May won’t shut up about safe sex. Every morning, when I’m trying to have a peaceful breakfast, she’s there talking about condoms or lube or – oh my god – ‘anal cleanliness’ and I’m just mortified in front of my cheerios.”

“Glad to hear Auntie has been advocating for me to get my dick wet.”

“Oh god,” Peter shook his head, gripping his sides from laughter. “Do not say Auntie and dick wet in the same sentence!”

Tony laughed, “I was just- oh shit, hold up, I found it,” Tony focused on the screen, quickly moving to transfer the file to his phone. 

Peter leaned in to get a closer look, “Found what exactly?”

“The file I need to upgrade Jarvis.”

“Wait, why do you need your dad’s file to upgrade Jarvis?”

“It’s less of an upgrade and more of a key... well, it’s not really that either,” Tony explained. “My dad has this elaborate dynamic encryption protecting the Stark Industries file system and, where Jarvis is right now, he doesn’t have the processing power to brute force the encryption before a new key is set.”

“Oh!” Peter joyfully interrupted, “And this file will give Jarvis access to the encryption key, which would, in theory, give you access every time the encryption algorithm changes to a new key.”

“Fuck, baby, you really know how to turn a guy on.” Tony playful bit his lip and wiggled his eyebrows at Peter.

“Tony!” Peter blushed, rolling his eyes with a smile. “Seriously.”

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” Tony laughed, turning his attention back to the downloading file. “But you’re almost right. This file is the encryption algorithm so by having Jarvis learn this, he should be able to learn not only how to break in, but also how to predict any improvements made to it.”

“So you’ll never be locked out of Stark Industries again.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Now that’s something to get turned on about.”

Tony raised his brow and turned towards Peter, placing a gentle hand on the younger boy’s hips. “Am I making you hot and bothered, sweetheart?”

“Maybe a little,” Peter softly spoke, bracing himself on Tony’s arms as he was hoisted up onto a desk. “What are you going to do about it?”

“What am I not going to do?” Tony playfully whispered as he stepped between Peter’s knees, wrapping his arms around Peter’s svelte frame, pulling their chests together and closing the gap between their lips.

Whenever they kissed, Peter was reminded of their first. He was reminded of how nervous he was; how bashful; how shaky. Sitting in his bedroom with his face cupped in Tony’s hands, feeling that heated closeness and the warm breath tickling his lips. Their first kiss was tender, slow, and full of emotion. It was so different from the kiss they shared now.

This kiss was frantic and hungry, filled with emotion but fueled by lust. Their lips crashing together like being apart was agony and their hands exploring every inch of exposed flesh, just aching to dip beneath hems and seams. Peter had gained confidence in kissing, even when open-mouthed and graced by tongue. Threading his fingers through Tony's hair had become commonplace and moaning into Tony's mouth was a thoughtless eventuality. A few months ago, he would have cringed at the thought of making such needy sounds but now, he reveled in it. 

Not a lot made him nervous these days. His stutter was practically gone and his skittish nature seldom made an appearance. Something about facing his bullies head-on just changed him. He was the picture of courage, dauntless and bold, the most fearless…

Oh fuck. Peter was dragged from his thoughts by the electric sensation of Tony’s hand on his nipple, pinching and rubbing at the tender nub as the kiss became rougher. Tony tugged Peter’s bottom lip through his teeth, pleasantly groaning at the satisfied expression on the younger boy's face.

Peter gasped, dipping his head down to hide his surely flushed cheeks and clutching at Tony’s leather sleeves like they were the ground that kept him from short-circuiting. “T-Tony, th-that um - that’s-”

“What is it, baby?” Tony gave a smug grin, bringing a hand up beneath Peter’s jaw, gradually squeezing as he guided Peter’s gaze to his. “Go on, tell me.”

And all Peter could do was whine, shakily and through a strained breath. The lightheaded rush of being choked and the mere presence of Tony’s touch making him bulge in his jeans. His hands trembled where they grasped and his eyes yearned for more. So Tony gave a final hard squeeze before pulling his hand away, opting to grab a handful of Peter’s curls. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“T-Tony, I-I’m- um ...i-it’s-” Peter stuttered, falling back into his nerves like they were never really gone. “It’s g-good.”

“There you are,” Tony whispered, a mischievous smile working its way to his lips as he grazed his fingertips against the hardness just beyond Peter’s zipper. “All nervous and cute just for me.”

The only response Peter could muster was a high-pitched Mhmm and a slight pull on Tony’s sleeves, making the older boy lean in for another kiss – and holy shit was it a really fucking good kiss.

So good that the Jarvis alert was background noise and the click of the door handle was their first indicator that Tony’s dad had arrived. The sound made Tony’s shoulders go rigid as he recoiled away from Peter, quickly closing the hologram console before glaring at the door with tension in his eyes. 

Howard stepped into the room, dressed in slacks and a button-up shirt with rolled sleeves and a loose tie. His face was cast in a five o’clock shadow. His eyes were dark – darker than each swig of whiskey from the glass he cradled in his left hand. “So this is your newest boy toy, Anthony?” He shook his head, “I’ve got to say, I’m underwhelmed by this one.”

“ Don’t call him that.” Tony practically growled, his voice taut and his tone a bit deeper.

This was the first time Peter has ever seen Tony and his dad interact. It was shocking – petrifying, really – enough to kill all arousal and compel him to absolute silence. 

Tony was seething, even more than usual, but Howard just laughed, short and belittling, “Of course, you would be more passionate about a slut like this than the company. Predictable as ever, Anthony.”

“Fuck you,” Tony spoke through clenched teeth. 

And from his place at Tony’s side, Peter could tell that the older boy’s knuckles were starting to lose color from how tightly he balled his fists. He could see that Tony was shaking beneath that leather like a boiling pot, brimming with fury and rage. He knew that Howard’s spiteful baiting was bound to make that anger boil over. 

Howard audibly tsked, downing the remaining whiskey in one large swig. And for a moment, the room was still, filled only with the sound of breath and the tick of a clock, when suddenly, it wasn’t. Howard spiked the glass against the floor. The shattering glass and subsequent splay of shards against tile cut through the lab and shook Peter to his very core. The erratic behavior eroding any doubt Peter held about Howard’s presence; imposing and threatening as it was, like watching a carnivore tear through his dinner. 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Howard asked, his voice deep and menacing. 

And Peter thought that would be it. He thought Tony would boil over with anger, yell at his father for speaking to him like that; for acting like that. He thought Tony wouldn’t stand for it.

He was wrong.

“Nothing,” Tony shook his head and grabbed Peter by the wrist, radiating a feeling that Peter knew all too well. The fearsome bad boy was scared ; so scared that his hand began to tremble where it gripped; so scared that he started towards the lab doors with Peter in tow. Tony – never lost a fight – Stark was so scared that he was choosing flight and that alone was terrifying.

Without so much as a glimpse in his father’s direction, they rushed towards the doors. Nearly there, nearly escaped. Yet, in those few seconds, in those few breaths, in those few strides, Peter learned what made Howard Stark so dangerous.

“Always a coward, just like your mother.”

Tony flinched, his muscles tensing and his grip tightening on Peter’s wrist. “Don’t talk about her like that.” He spoke low, scared but provoked, thrashing in his father’s trap.

“Like what? Like the waste of space she was?” Howard scoffed. “All she did was birth a useless criminal son and left when she couldn’t deal with the pressure of raising you.”

And it was like throwing a grenade into a bonfire.

“She left because of you!” Tony exploded, screaming loud enough to rival the impact of the shattered glass.

Slap!

It was faster than Peter could process but the echo of Howard’s hand connecting with Tony’s cheek rang in his ears. Fear and anger ricocheted through his body like lightning in a bottle; yet, he could do nothing but watch. Watch how quickly Tony was shaken from his anger like a knife whose edge had dulled. Watch how unapologetic Howard was; how sickeningly pleased he was with Tony’s prompt obedience. Watch firsthand just how twisted Tony’s life at home was.

It was silent for a few heartbeats, then Tony gripped Peter’s wrist even harder than before and pulled him out of the lab. Walking with urgency and leaving behind the callous laughter of his father. 

“Tony,” Peter whispered, his fingers feeling prickly as the feeling started to fade from the pressure of Tony’s hold. “Tony, um-” He struggled to speak as he was practically dragged towards the front door. “Tony, my hand, you’re-!” He tried pulling against Tony’s strength but to no avail. So he planted his heels when they reached the foyer and the force of Tony’s momentum caused them both to trip forward. “Tony!”

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Tony screamed, grabbing Peter by his upper arm and looking at him with the same frustrated expression that he showed his father. “We need to fucking go!”

Peter’s eyes went wide, a twinge of fear bubbling in his chest before anger overtook it. “You were hurting me!” Peter snapped back, yanking his arm away and marching passed Tony, heading towards the car. 

“I- fuck , Peter, I didn’t-” Tony frustratingly ran his hands through his hair, following Peter into the garage. 

“Don’t,” Peter interrupted, raising his palm.

“Why didn’t you just say something?!” Tony yelled, still fuming as he slid into the driver’s seat. 

“I tried too!” Peter yelled back, slamming the car door on his way in and training his eyes out the window, trying to ignore the tension and the dull pain of the bruise on his wrist. “Can you just drive me home?”

Tony inhaled sharp, “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“That-!” Tony stopped himself and took a deep breath, finally dropping his tone. “Whatever.”

“Great, now you’re whatever-ing me,” Peter mumbled, crossing his arms and gripping his sides in a self-hug. He could feel his emotions in his throat, shaking and threatening to burst, and as he leaned his head against the window, he bit the inside of his lip to keep them at bay.

“If you don’t want to talk, then we’re not going to talk.”

“I never said that I didn’t want to talk.” Peter sniffled – fuck , he thought, as a single tear managed to escape. “I-I just don’t appreciate you t-taking out your anger on me.”

“I’m not!” Tony snapped again.

Peter’s voice was shaky, “T-Then why are you still yelling?”

“Because-!” Tony had a vice grip on the steering wheel, his face a blend of anger and fear and regret. “Because he fucking says shit just to get under my skin and he calls you all these fucked up things and ignores that you’re there and just fucking-” He paused, dropping his forehead against the wheel as well. “I just...”

The sight of Tony struggling made Peter’s heart hurt, but the sound of Tony’s sadness went beyond it. “You just?”

“Nevermind.”

“No, Tones. Don’t do that. Talk to me. I’m-”

“Drop it, Peter.” Tony started the car, ending the conversation like Peter stepped on his toes.

Then, they drove in silence. An awkward and deafening kind of silence – filled with the hum of Tony’s engine and whoosh of the passing scenery – but deafening nonetheless. The peeved energy radiating off of the older boy was familiar but, this time, it wasn’t remedied with silly lip-synced rock ‘n’ roll. No, this was different from those times. Peter couldn’t help but feel tense and, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop the way his body shook beneath that fact.

When they arrived at the apartment, the air in the car was so stifling that stepping out into the evening breeze was jarring. Peter tried on a smile, holding the car door open as he spoke, “Are you still coming in for the dinner thing?”

“No.” Tony kept his response short with his lips pressed in a hard line and his eyes fixed on the windshield. “See you at school tomorrow.”

And Peter parted his lips but no words came. So he shut his mouth and the car door, watching from his place on the curb as Tony drove away. For a short while, he stood there, inhaling deep breaths to stave off the tears, but soon, the patter of rain gave him cause to walk inside. 

The apartment was filled with the savory scent of pizza and the sounds of the evening news. It was warm and bright and there was confetti trailing from the front door to the dining table. Taped to the entryway wall was a sign, printed on multiple sheets of white printer paper, that read ‘ Happy 6-Month Extravaganz ’ with a sloppy letter ‘A’ scrawled on a sticky note at the end. 

And Peter didn’t know much more his heart could take.

“Hey boys, I ordered pizza! You wouldn’t believe the fight I had with the office copy machine! It was-” As May rounded the corner and saw the look on Peter’s face, she paused. “Oh, Peter, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Peter shook his head. “This all looks great, thanks Aunt May.” He smiled but even he couldn’t deny the feeling of wetness against his cheeks – he blamed the rain.

“How about some pizza?” May gave a small smile, moving to pull the sign down. “We can eat and watch some movies together. How’s that sound?”

“No, I’m- I’m tired and I’ve got- um, homework to finish up,” Peter sniffled, involuntarily using his sleeve to wick away his sadness. “So I’m just going to go to my room. Night May.”

~*2*~

“Okay, I’m just going to say it,” MJ shook her head, tossing her books into her locker, staring her best friend squarely in the face. “You look like shit.”

And Peter, whose eyes were puffy and whose shoulders were slumped and whose only form of expression came through exasperated sighs, gazed at MJ with tired eyes, “I know.”

“What happened, dude?” Ned questioned, slamming his locker closed and moving to put a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“A lot,” Peter dropped his forehead against his locker. “A lot happened.”

“Want to talk about it?” MJ offered, her eyes shrouded in sympathy.

Peter sighed, slowly shaking his head, “Not even a little.”

“Well, well, what do we have here?” It was Natasha’s voice, like nails being hammered into Peter’s sanity. “Why so blue? Did your psychotic dog run away?” She laughed, “Maybe for some other twink? Or – what did Loki say? – plaything , right?”

“Nat, stop,” Clint grabbed her arm, trying to pull her away from Peter’s group.

“No,” Natasha resisted, shaking her arm free, a smirk perched on her lips like she was invincible. “Didn’t see Tony with you this morning either. Did he get tired of his bitch?”

“Nat, fucking chill,” Clint whispered under his breath, trying once again to pull her away. “She doesn’t mean it guys. We’re sorry. Come on, Nat!”

“ Sorry? I’m not fucking sorry. ” Natasha scoffed, “Looks like he’s all alone today, maybe we should text Loki, see what he thinks about that.”

“Are you done?” MJ interrupted, glaring at the pair of bullies with her arms crossed.

“Not talking to you,” Natasha sassed, rolling her eyes at MJ. “I’m talking to bitch boy over here.”

Peter inhaled slow, calming the nerves that sat at the back of his mind. “Text them,” He challenged, lifting his forehead from his locker and turning to face Natasha with a bored expression. “Do it. I dare you. Go ahead and see what happens.”

And Natasha, with all of her brazen snark, was taken aback by Peter’s abnormally quick response. “Whatever, you’re not worth my time.” 

“ Whatever, you’re not worth my time. ” Peter mocked, his face unfazed despite the speed of his anxiously racing heart or the force of his grip on the seam in his pocket. “You’re not worth my time, Red.”

“Dude,” Ned held back a laugh, but MJ had no such control; her laughter pulled the attention of curious hallway students, including a guy Peter has never seen before. He was tall and a bit muscular, sporting a denim jacket and staring at Peter with a confidence a bit too reminiscent of Tony’s. It was weird, like locking eyes with a much more smiley and bright version of Tony. Why was this guy staring at him like that anyway? Peter didn’t have the energy to question it; besides, all his attention should be on not getting beat up again.

“Nat, stop fucking around, let’s go,” Clint didn’t give in this time, placing a firm hand in hers and walking away with her in tow.

“Fuck you, bitch. Stark can’t protect you forever!” Natasha’s final words, topped off with a flip of her middle finger, as she disappeared down the hall.

Peter gave a relieved sigh, hand over his heart like he narrowly escaped death, “I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Well, don’t,” Ned laughed. “That was fucking awesome, dude. Very Tony Stark of you.”

“Guess that’s what happens when you move up the food chain,” MJ joked. “Suck Tony Stark’s dick for protection one time and the whole school becomes your bitch.”

“We both know he’s sucked that dick more than once,” Ned smirked, bumping his arm against MJ’s.

“Please stop,” Peter rolled his eyes and started towards the lunchroom, “Let’s just go eat.”

MJ laughed, moving to walk beside Peter, “Where is Tony today anyway?”

“Yeah, he’s usually at your locker before lunch starts,” Ned added. 

“Like I said,” Peter sighed. “ A lot happened.”

“Oh, okay, fair enough,” MJ shrugged as they entered the lunchroom. “No further questions.”

“Well, I have a question,” Ned interjected, following behind Peter to the lunch line. “What the fuck are we doing for the break?” He posed the question with urgent eyes. “Because, and I don’t want to alarm anyone, but we have got to be the only juniors without spring break plans.” 

“Oh no, not that.” MJ feigned surprise, her eyes bored and her voice monotonous but not even her eye roll could stop Ned’s enthusiasm.

“Oh no is right, MJ! Peter, are your cool friends doing anything?”

“My cool friends?” Peter squinted as he grabbed a tray and moved down the line, unimpressed by the high school food but too exhausted to complain.

MJ snorted, “He means the big buff trio.”

Well, even Peter had to smile at that, “You mean Steve, Sam, and Bucky?”

“MJ, that codename is for private correspondence only,” Ned joked. “But yeah, have they roped you into any plans yet?”

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged as they exited the line, surveying the lunchroom for Steve’s table and locking eyes with a waving Bucky. “Let’s go ask.”

“What?” Ned’s eyebrows flew upward. “You’re bringing us to sit with Steve Rogers?”

“I guess I am,” Peter gave a small grin. “I’ve got to introduce my cool friends to my new friends eventually, right?”

Ned dramatically gasped, “When did my best friend become so smooth?”

“He was always this smooth,” MJ laughed, following Peter to the table.

“Hey Peter,” Bucky smiled, gesturing to some empty chairs. “And MJ and Ned, right?”

“Yeah,” MJ said as she sat. “Nice to finally meet you guys.”

“Likewise,” Steve said before shooting Peter a skeptical look. “Hey Pete, where’s Tony?”

“Not sure,” Peter clenched his jaw, biting on the inside of his lip to stave off his lingering emotions, preparing himself to make excuses. “He’s probably just skipping today. No big deal.” He waved away any hint of sadness, replacing it instead with an over-enthused – and clearly forced – smile. “Anyway, we were talking about spring break, right Ned?”

“Right,” Ned said, blinking a few times before shaking his head. “Right!” He dropped his hands against the lunch table, pulling everyone’s attention – leave it to him to always have Peter’s back. “Spring break is next week, guys. Do you have any plans?”

“Well, me and the guys usually visit my family’s beach house,” Steve answered.

“How big is the house?” MJ asked.

“Oh, the house is huge,” Bucky assured. “If people doubled up in the beds, it could probably sleep like twelve people.”

“Did you guys want to come with us?” Steve offered. “We could make it a party. Tony could bring his friends too. What do you think, Pete?”

Peter was distracted, idly pushing food around his lunch tray and staring into the abyss of students. His mind wandered through yesterday’s events, silently wishing they never happened. He wondered where Tony was; where Tony had been all morning. It was like him to skip classes but never lunch. It was the only school period they shared. What was happening?

“Peter!” MJ snapped him from his thoughts. “You there?”

“O-Oh, what? Sorry, um- what were you-?”

“Spring break party at Steve’s beach house with all of us and Tony’s crew?” MJ summarized. “That sound good?”

“Yeah, probably,” Peter nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“Great, then I’ll ask my parents if we can use the house and let you guys know what they say on Friday.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Ned excitedly said.

And the conversation went from there. Planning about what food to bring, what alcohol was the best, what games they would play. Some great mingling between mutual friends that Peter was barely present for. He was so in his own head that he didn’t realize who was approaching the table.

“Hey.”

Peter lifted his head, surprised to find that the voice belonged to the guy from the hallway, who was pulling up a chair to sit beside him. “Um...hey?”

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Definitely not kid .” Peter raised his eyebrow. “Who’s asking?”

The guy laughed, “My name’s Quentin – Quentin Beck – and I saw you, in the hallway, telling that girl off and I knew I needed to introduce myself.”

“Wait. That girl? ” MJ interrupted, looking just as confused as the rest of the table. “You don’t know who Natasha Romanoff is? Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m new here. Just transferred today. Nice to meet you guys,” Quentin was courteous, making eye contact with each person at the table before focusing his attention solely on Peter. “Especially you, kid.”

“Peter,” He introduced himself, feeling a bit uneasy with the unfamiliar attention.

“It suits you,” Quentin gave a bright smile. “Your shirt is also pretty funny.”

Peter furrowed his brow, so unsure about what shirt he threw on today that he had to glance down. Peaking between his unbuttoned plaid shirt was his ‘ if you believe in telekinesis, please raise my hand ’ t-shirt. A classic. Peter let out a light huff of breath that ended in the smallest of smiles, “Thanks. It’s actually my favorite one.”

Quentin gave a small laugh of his own, looking at Peter with adoration, “Suddenly, it’s my favorite too.”

“U-Um...you look good too,” Peter clumsily reciprocated. “I mean, your jacket is really cool.”

“You’re really cool,” Quentin shot back with a grin.

“O-kay!” Ned loudly interrupted, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get back to the spring break plans.”

“Agreed,” MJ nodded, staring at Peter with the strongest what-the-fuck-are-you-doing look. “Peter, do you think your boyfriend would mind driving?”

“ Boy friend, huh?” Quentin smirked, not looking away from Peter for even a second. “Glad to know we’re teammates, Peter.”

The line made Sam and Bucky burst into laughter. “Steve, you need to take some notes,” Bucky joked, smiling at Steve, who laughed as well.

“And you better be careful, new kid,” Sam warned, pointing towards the cafeteria doors. “Tony is literally coming this way.”

Peter perked up, surprised to see Tony sauntering towards them. The bad boy’s presence brought the lunchroom to a grinding halt and only when he made it to Peter’s table, did it resume. 

“Move,” Tony spoke directly to Quentin.

“Um...no,” Quentin snorted, seemingly unbothered. “Don’t be a dick. Just get another chair. I’m talking to Peter.”

Everyone, even Peter, was stunned by Quentin’s blind confidence. Tony, however, was immediately set off. “ The fuck? ” Tony cursed as he grabbed Quentin by the jacket collar and effortlessly yanked him up from the chair. “It wasn’t a fucking question.”

“T-Tony! Stop,” Peter promptly stood, pulling Tony’s hand away from the denim. “He didn’t mean it.”

“What?” Tony gave Peter an incredulous look. “Who the fuck is this guy to you?” He moved forward, shoving Quentin back a step. It was all the cafeteria crowd needed to be fully tuned in. Enraptured by the actions of the notorious bad boy and what seemed to be his latest target: a very confused Quentin Beck. A second shove had people whispering, but a third had them outright rowdy with their phones primed to spread the brawl to everyone in the school.

“Tony, stop it !” Peter snapped, his voice low but serious, immediately compelling Tony’s focus. “Hallway,” He demanded before walking off.

Tony tsk ed but followed with his hands shoved in his pockets and anger lingering his eyes. All the way to the empty hallway, where Peter now stood, arms crossed and disappointed, “What is going on with you?”

“Who the fuck was that?” Tony fumed.

“Nobod- wait, no, I-I’m asking the questions,” Peter stressed. “Why are you so on edge?”

“You know why.”

“Actually, no. I really don’t.” Peter pointed out. “You told me to drop it , remember.”

“Not that- fuck, that’s not what I meant.” Tony let out a frustrated sigh.

“Then what did you mean, Tony? Because skipping out on dinner really sends a clear message.” Peter could feel a sting in his eyes. “I’m so confused and hurt and I was looking for you all day today and you finally show up but you’re not even here for me. You just came to cause trouble, didn’t you?”

“No, Peter, that’s-” Tony stepped forward, grabbing Peter’s hand. “I am here for you. I only ever come to this fucking place for you.” He shook his head, “I didn’t want to fight, I just- Why would you even think that?”

Without warning, the lunchroom doors swung open and Quentin emerged, “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“Yes!” Tony yelled, in sync with Peter’s very annoyed, “No.”

Peter pulled his hand from Tony’s, “Did you need something, Quentin?”

“Oh, um- I just wanted to say sorry for what I said in there,” Quentin seemed apologetic, looking at Tony with remorse in his eyes. “I didn’t realize that you were Peter’s boyfriend. I overstepped. Sorry, man.”

It appeared a sincere apology, but Tony remained silent.

“Tony, he’s apologizing ,” Peter emphasized.

“So?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Peter whispered, shaking his head and moving towards the lunchroom doors. “I don’t want to talk anymore. Skip the rest of the day for all I care.”

And Tony did just that.

~*3*~

When Peter said skip all day, he didn’t think Tony actually would. He was convinced that, despite the tension, his boyfriend would follow their normal routine. On a regular day, Tony would be there within minutes of the buses leaving, ready to drive him home. So Peter stood outside the school, hopefully waiting for his boyfriend to pick him up. Yet, as the minutes ticked by and the school became emptier, Peter realized that Tony wasn’t coming.

Left with no choice, Peter started the walk home, just as he’d done countless times before; trekked the three miles whenever the weather was nice or he missed the bus. After all, getting driven around by his boyfriend every day would make him lazy. There was no harm in putting feet to the concrete, exercising his legs, inhaling some fresh air. No, the harm started after the first two blocks, when the sky decided on rain and not just any rain – no, this was soak-through-a-backpack , fuck-you-Peter kind of rain.

And Peter nearly screamed, his frustrations pooling as he dashed to take shelter beneath a storefront awning. In the cover, he dropped his head into his palms, convinced that the universe hated him. He didn’t have an umbrella, he didn’t have anyone to pick him up, and no matter how much optimism he tried to muster, he knew an hour-long walk in the pouring rain would break him.

Beep!

A car horn close enough to Tony’s that Peter’s whole body experienced a wave of happiness but, as he lifted his head, the wave dissipated. The car wasn’t Tony’s or MJ’s or Steve’s. Just an ordinary sedan that he was set to ignore, but then, the windows rolled down.

“Well, if it isn’t Tony Stark’s plaything.” It was Loki, parking the car against the curb and stepping out into the rain with vengeance in his eyes. “Where’s Stark?”

Shit. Peter tensed, “Fuck off, Loki. Tony’s on his way.” A bold-faced lie – one he wished were true; one he hoped appeared as true.

“Is he?” Loki smirked deviously, moving closer and closer to Peter, “You see, I received a quite interesting text from Natasha today.” He cracked his knuckles, “What was it you said to me that night? Touch me again and I’ll have him break the other one ?” He recalled, standing inches away from Peter. “Now, that only works if you actually have a him , doesn’t it?”

Yeah, the universe definitely hates me. Peter thought, inhaling sharply as regret seeped through his body and he backed against the brick of the storefront. The very thing he tried so hard to contain swarming to the surface: fear. “Don’t come near me! T-Tony will find out! H-He’ll know, he-”

“There’s the Parker I know,” Loki smirked, grabbing Peter by his collar, “Once a scared little bitch, always a scared little bitch.” He gave a dark laugh as he slammed Peter against the brick with one hand. The other winding into a fist and poised to deliver a punch.

And Peter closed his eyes, relaxed his jaw, and prepared for the inevitable, a pit in his stomach from knowing Tony wouldn’t be saving him. He wanted to cry.

“Hey! Get off of him!” 

A perfectly timed interruption that stopped Loki in his tracks and filled Peter with a thankful relief. It was Quentin, emerging from an expensive, tinted-windowed sports car and bolting towards them without hesitation. With his fists balled and ready to defend, he promptly stepped between them, shoving Loki back a few steps.

Quentin’s serious eyes were striking, especially when paired with that confident grin and the way he hovered his fists like a trained fighter squares up for a brawl. Or the way he pulled off that denim jacket and draped it over Peter’s head like he was protecting something important. Or the way he so reassuringly affirmed that Peter would be fine, so hold this for me, kid. I’ll handle this.

And Peter would be lying if he said it didn’t remind him of Tony.

However, what happened next was nothing like the notorious bad boy. Quentin wasn’t a violent fighter. Though Peter appreciated the protection, the way Quentin fought was boring. He didn’t seem to enjoy the conflict – in fact, he only threw punches when Loki threw them. He was clearly trained but instead of a self-serving show of brutality, he leaned toward ending it as cleanly as possible. In the end, Loki stopped the fight. Not because he was dazed or bruised or bloody, but because Quentin’s resolve was stronger.

And much like Natasha, Loki left Peter with a warning before driving off. “Sooner or later, you’ll run out of assholes to protect you, Parker. And you and I both know that a scared little bitch like you can’t protect yourself.”

Quentin exhaled, winded from the fight and thoroughly soaked with rain, but smiling bright nonetheless. “Hey, Peter! Do you need a ride somewhere?”

Maybe the universe didn’t hate him after all. “Y-Yes!” Peter spared no time in rushing to Quentin’s car and following him inside. “You’re a lifesaver, Quentin.” He said as he shed his wet clothes, denim jacket first, plaid long sleeve second.

“Beck.”

“Hm?”

“My good friends call me Beck.” Quentin smiled, slicking his wet hair away from his forehead.

“Oh,” Peter nodded. “Beck, then. ” He sighed, leaning back against the seat, thankful for the heat pumping through its vents. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“No need to thank me. I’m just glad I showed up when I did,” Quentin gestured to Peter’s wrist. “Before he could do anything else.”

Peter flinched, covering his bruised wrist like he was caught doing something wrong, “This was- um...yeah, I’m glad too.”

Quentin furrowed his brow, “Who was that anyway? And that Natasha girl too?”

“That was Loki,” Peter sighed, “They’re my... enemies , I guess?”

“Enemies?” Quentin gave a soft laugh, “That’s pretty intense. What’d they do?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

“No, I don’t like getting too much into it,” Peter shook his head. “I was duped and Tony helped me. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Tony helped you, huh?” Quentin repeated, clearly annoyed. “Then where was he just now?”

“He was just busy today.” Peter was making excuses. Again.

“Too busy to protect his boyfriend?” Quentin scoffed. “If you were my boyfriend, I would protect you all the time. No matter what, even if we had some stupid argument at school.”

Peter’s eyes went wide at Quentin’s sentiment, “We weren’t arguing. We were just-”

“I’m not blind, Peter,” Quentin interrupted. “I heard you both fighting in the hall. Tony seems quick to anger and, honestly, you don’t deserve that.”

Peter crossed his arms and stared out the window, “And how do you know what I deserve?”

“I don’t, but I know you don’t deserve a guy that would leave you stranded in the rain.” Quentin sighed, “Look, I can tell you’re upset, so I’ll drop it for now, but at least think about what I said, okay?”

Peter glanced over to Quentin, whose eyes seemed so genuine that he felt bad for being annoyed. “Okay,” He nodded, relaxing his arms, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so peeved. “Um...so, your car is... nice.”

“Thank you. It belongs to my parents,” Quentin gave a bashful laugh. “I couldn’t find my bus stop this morning and when I finally got there, I missed the bus so I took the car.”

“Without telling them?” Peter rose his brow.

“Without telling them,” Quentin slowly repeated with a grin. “I’m definitely going to be in some deep shit so let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” He pressed a button to the right of the gearshift, “Seat warmers,” He said as he pressed another button, switching on the radio and filling the car with the low hum of rock music. “Surround sound and–” Another button. “Self-driving navigation. Put your address in and we’re all set.”

“Wow, this is my first time in one of these,” Peter mentioned as he inputted his address on the touch screen. “There. Did that work?”

“Perfectly.” Quentin nodded as he started the ride and the car pulled away from the curb. “Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy your warmed butt. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Peter almost laughed at that one – almost – instead, he took the advice. He relaxed, soaking in the warmth and peacefully listening to the radio mixed with the pitter-patter of the rain. But then an AC/DC track played. “Can we skip this one?”

“Not in a ‘Shoot to Thrill’ kind of mood?” Quentin asked as he skipped the song.

Peter shook his head, leaning forward slightly, “It’s not that...it’s other stuff.”

“Does this other stuff wear leather and have a surprisingly high grip strength?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, “By the way, sorry he did that to you.”

“No worries,” Quentin shook his head. “Let’s not talk about him. I want to know more about the kid, Peter Parker.” 

“I am not a kid,” Peter lightheartedly complained. “We’re probably like one year apart.”

“I know but you get so worked up over it,” Quentin grinned. “I can’t help it.”

Peter sighed but smiled, “Fine, what do you want to know?”

Quentin beamed, “Do you have any hobbies?”

“Comics, I guess,” Peter answered. “I have a collection up in my room.”

Quentin gasped, “Can I come in and see it?”

“Sure, I guess.”

And when they arrived at Peter's apartment and ventured into his room, talking about comic books turned to playing video games for a few hours. And that turned to homework together and raiding the fridge for snacks. Chats about sharing interests turned to lending comic books, which very quickly turned to hey, Beck, do you want to come on our spring break trip? Somehow, it all turned Peter’s awful day into something a little brighter.

“Thanks for hanging out today, Beck,” Peter flashed a quick smile, leaning against the door frame.

Quentin smirked, “And thank you for the comic book. I promise to bring it back with all its pages and exactly one unidentifiable snack stain.”

Peter laughed, an honest laugh, “Sounds good.”

“Wow,” Quentin smiled, moving his hand to gently tilt Peter’s chin upward, “Your laugh is really cute, Peter.”

“W-What?” Peter blushed – what the fuck? blushed? – he pulled away, quickly laughing it off like one big joke. “My laugh is actually quite manly.”

“Anything you say, kid.” Quentin gave Peter one last smile before turning to head down the hall. “See you tomorrow!”

“See you!” And as he closed the apartment door, Peter scoffed but there was no denying the smile on his face; no denying that Quentin’s company had cheered him up.

Just as Peter turned to head to his room, the door opened again. It was May, “Hey Peter, who was that boy in the hall?”

“His name’s Quentin,” Peter answered. “He gave me a ride home today.”

“He was here until now?” May glanced at her watch. “It’s past seven. What about Tony?”

Right. Tony.  

Peter sighed, the flurry of negative emotions washing back over him at the mere mention of his boyfriend’s name. “What about Tony?” He mumbled, stalking into his room like the moody teenager he was.

~*4*~

The next morning was just as rough as the last but, at least, the sun was up today. Peter rode the bus to school, thankful that the ride was quiet despite the rumors that were starting to brew. According to a very frantic text from Ned this morning, students were starting to gossip about his relationship. The question at the center of speculation: are Tony and Peter breaking up? And it hurt to not know if that speculation was justified. After all, they had been arguing a lot and tensions were high.

Peter sighed as he stepped off the bus, ready to resign himself to another day of sadness, but then a voice called out to him that made his chest feel tight.

“Peter!” It was Tony, leaning against his car in the parking lot, smoking and gesturing for Peter to join him. He seemed less angry today, less brooding. The sight filled Peter with joy, but he was reluctant to show it. He was still upset. He was still confused. He was still hurt, but none of that could stop his feet from carrying him across the lot. “What?” He asked, crossing his arms, keeping his eyes on the pavement.

“I want to talk,” Tony said, flicking his cigarette away. “Can we?”

“You ditched me yesterday,” Peter whispered, unsure why his hands started to tremble in his pockets. “It was raining and I had to walk and-”

“ You told me to skip,” Tony interrupted. “Why didn’t you take the bus?”

“Because I didn’t think you would listen to me,” Peter sighed, shaking his head. “I waited for you.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” Tony let out a frustrated huff of breath, dragging a hand through his hair.

Peter bit the inside of his lip and turned on his heel, “If I’m bothering you, then we can just-”

“Wait, no!” Tony reached out, grabbing Peter by his wrist.

The same bruised wrist as before. Peter flinched at the contact, inhaling sharp through his teeth as a dull pain erupted up his forearm. “L-Let go!”

Tony’s eyes went wide, releasing his grip immediately. “Sorry! I’m sorry, baby, I forgot-”

“How could you forget something that you did!?” Peter snapped, clasping his bruised wrist in his hand, holding it to his chest. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Peter,” Tony’s voice was unsteady, frantic, worried. He reached out again, a gentle hand in Peter’s, but the younger boy just yanked it away.

“Don’t touch me.” 

Tony paused, slowly closing his hand and stuffing it into his pocket. “Okay, but please, baby, just talk to me, I didn’t mean-”

“No,” Peter shook his head, once again starting towards the building.

Tony followed, keeping his hands to himself but unrelenting in his pleads. “Please. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, baby, just stay and talk to me.”

“Stop calling me that,” Peter fumed, irritation dripping from every word. 

Tony jogged forward, stepping in front of Peter to halt his strides. “Okay, okay , but I really just want to talk. I want to fix this, I-”

“I told you no,” Peter repeated, stepping around Tony without even looking him in the eye. “The bell is going to ring soon. I have class.”

“Peter,” Tony reached out again, grabbing almost desperately at Peter’s hand.

“I told you not to touch me!”

“I don’t know what else to do-!”

“Is there a problem here?” All of sudden, there was Quentin, fearlessly interjecting with one hand pushing against Tony’s chest and the other hovering in front of Peter in protection. His shoulders rigid and his body braced for a clash more intense than their last.

Tony scowled, his eyes cast in a dark and threatening glare, “Move the hand before I break it.”

“He told you not to touch him.” Quentin challenged, ignoring the warning and shoving his hand harder against Tony’s chest.

And Peter watched with a sinking feeling as Tony grabbed Quentin’s wrist and fingers like he was leveraging to snap the bone. “Tony, don’t!” He yelled, louder than he has in a while and Tony must have taken notice because he released Quentin without question.

But then Quentin scoffed, putting two and two together, “You’re the one that fucked up Peter’s wrist, aren’t you?” He laughed low, his tone unsurprised, “And you left him in the rain to get beat up?”

“What?” Tony squinted, “What the fuck is he talking about, Peter?”

Peter shook his head, panicking, “Quentin, stop, you don’t have to-”

“No, he should know that because of him, you almost got the shit kicked out of you by that Loki guy.” Quentin asserted. “I’m glad I was there to take you home.”

“He took you home?” Tony’s voice went stagnant, coasting somewhere dark that had Peter struggling to find the words to respond.

“Yeah, I did,” Quentin boasted. “I was there to protect him, to spend time with him, to get his mind off all the stress you put him through.” He said, stepping back and throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “So, don’t worry, I’ll be taking him again today.”

Peter froze, staring into Tony’s eyes and feeling a swarm of guilt in his stomach, “I didn’t- um, Tony, we didn’t do anything-” He pulled away from Quentin, “It was just-”

“Was he in your room?” Tony asked, tone unchanging.

“Yes, but-”

Tony closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through clenched teeth as his hands balled into fists. Anger was radiating off of him, billowing into the air and making it hard for Peter to breathe. Yet, as Tony opened his eyes, his fists relaxed and his fury seemed to wane as he brought his hand up slowly, threading his fingers through Peter’s hair, “I’m taking you home today.”

And Peter understood that it wasn’t a question.

“Okay.”

~*5*~

After school, the tension had grown beyond control, especially now, as the spring break group convened for a quick meeting – meaning Steve, Sam, Bucky, MJ, Ned, and Tony were hit with the surprise of Quentin’s invitation all at once. To make things worse, the sheer pressure emanating from Tony was making the atmosphere unbearable.

“So,” Steve began, smiling at the group despite the clear unease. “I’ve got good news.”

“We got permission to use the beach house!” Bucky blurted out, beating Steve to the punch.

“Steve’s parents said we can have it for the week.” Sam added, “Monday through Friday.”

“Like they said,” Steve shook his head, playfully putting his hands over their mouths. “Before I was so rudely interrupted. We got the okay from my folks.”

“Yes!” Ned exclaimed, shaking Peter by the shoulders, probably trying to relax the mood. “Spring break!”

Steve laughed at Ned’s enthusiasm, “Is he always like this?”

“Always,” MJ assured. “So is everyone clear with what they’re bringing?”

“We’ll handle the drinks,” Bucky gestured to Sam, Steve, and himself.

“MJ, Peter, and I will get the food.” Ned gave a thumbs up. “But someone else needs to get stuff to light the grill.”

“I can handle that,” Quentin offered.

“Perfect,” Steve nodded. “Tony, you’re friends are good with getting the music set up and the games, right?”

“Yeah,” Tony shrugged. “Happy’s bringing his car.”

“I’m bringing mine,” MJ added.

“Me too,” Quentin and Tony said in unison, only adding to the tension nagging at Peter’s insides.

“Having four cars is perfect,” Ned interjected, laughing awkwardly. “Everyone will have legroom.”

“Sounds good to me.” Steve smiled, waving to everyone as they dispersed. “See you all on Monday!”

No one lingered – not that Peter blamed them – the conversation was strained and uncomfortable. He was relieved that Quentin didn’t start something as they exited the school. Maybe it was because Tony was so silent and Quentin wasn’t the type to start a fight on his own. The walk to the parking lot was quiet, even quieter was the drive to Peter’s apartment. Another awkwardly silent drive with Tony’s unease imposed on the atmosphere.

As Tony parked the car against the curb, Peter opened the door before saying, “Do you want to come in?”

“No,” Tony said, keeping his car running and his hands on the wheel.

“We should talk now, Tones,” Peter closed the door. “I’m sorry about what Quentin said.”

“Which part?” Tony stressed. “The part about Loki, or that he brought you home, or maybe that he was in your fucking room ?” His voice got louder and louder with each word.

Peter’s voice caught in his throat, “W-We didn’t do anything.” 

“How long was he there?”

“I don’t know...until May got back,” Peter shrugged. “We just played video games and did homework. I lent him a book,” His hands were starting to tremble again. He hated it. “He’s my friend.”

“Sure, a friend ,” Tony scoffed.

“What are you trying to say?”

“You let him touch you,” Tony seethed. “You couldn’t stand me touching you but you didn’t seem to care when it was him. What the fuck happened to I’m yours, but you’re mine too , huh?”

“Nothing happened to it!” Peter was starting to panic. All of their conversations had spiraled out of control, escalated beyond what they should have been, and this one was no different. “I was just upset with you and he was nice to me so I didn’t think about it. I didn’t mean to-”

“I wanted to end this shit today.”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat, so scared by the vagueness in those words that his whole frame began to shake. “W-What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Tony shook his head. “Get out of my car.”

“What?”

“I said get out.”

“Tony.” That came out more pitifully than Peter wanted and – oh no – his vision began to blur behind tears. “I don’t like him,” His voice was distorted and breathy and on the verge of sobs, but somehow, that didn’t stop him from getting angry. “You’re the one that started this!” He yelled, looking up to combat his tears. “You’re the one that got mad first! I was trying to talk to you about your dad and you-”

“I don’t want to talk about him!” Tony snapped, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “Why don’t you get that? Why can't you just fucking let it go?!”

“Because he hit you, Tony!” Peter snapped back. “He hit you and I couldn’t do anything and I could tell you were scared and that-”

“Peter, stop! Just fucking stop!” Tony dropped his face into his hands. “This isn’t something you should worry about.”

“Tony, I’m your boyfriend ,” Peter stressed, wiping at his tear-stained cheeks. “How can I not worry? It happened in front of me and I-”

“Can you just get out?” Tony lifted his head, his expression was blank but his eyes were wet, so clearly filled with tears of his own.

“But Tony, I-”

“Peter, I’m serious, get the fuck out of my car.”

“If that’s what you want then fine!” Peter fumed, throwing open the car door and stepping out. “Be that way!” He yelled before slamming the door shut and turning towards his building, not bothering to glance back, even when the roar of Tony’s engine disappeared down the street.

As he ambled into his building and up the stairs, Peter wondered if this was what it felt like to be at his wits’ end; to feel utterly crushed by the weight of his emotions; to feel his heartache and be at a loss when trying to fix it. He stepped into the apartment, surprised to see May’s shoes by the door and hear her bright greeting. Right, it was the weekend, she was home earlier than usual. 

“Peter!” May was stunned when she laid eyes on her nephew, rushing over to pull him into a hug. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” Peter started to break down. “Things just keep getting worse and we keep arguing and I-” He sobbed, “I don’t know what to do!” And the tears he so viciously tried holding back fell freely and he was hopeless against them. 

“Okay, calm down,” May rubbed gentle circles into Peter’s back. “Come sit down,” She said as she guided him to the couch, where he continued to cry. Where he continued to weep as she headed into the kitchen and prepared two cups of tea. Continued to sob as she grabbed a box of tissues from the linen closet and calmly sat, waiting for the tears to run dry. And once they did, she finally spoke, “Now, explain.”

“Tony hates me,” Peter’s voice was hoarse. “All we’ve been doing is fighting with each other and Quentin made it worse.”

“The boy from the hall?”

“Yeah,” Peter sniffled. “He’s my friend but Tony thinks I like him and we’re fighting about that too now.” He sighed, taking a sip of tea before continuing, “And everyone’s going on that trip to Steve’s family’s beach house. And it’s just going to be the worst, Aunt May.”

“What were you fighting about before Quentin?”

“I-” Peter hesitated, “It was something that happened at Tony’s house.”

“And what happened?”

“Something bad,” Peter mumbled, placing his mug on the coffee table.

“I’m listening.”

-

Read Part 2: Here.

[fugandhi]

Why We Rise (A Meditation on Humanity)

by Adam Kenichi Wekarski

The time has come for me to write about Christopher Nolan’s Batman Trilogy (and why it is the most important cinematic franchise of our time). *Please purchase & view the franchise in it’s entirety prior to reading this independent essay. Spoilers are No Fun for Anyone. SUPPORT The STORYTELLERS*

Although it’s a story derived from a comic book, this is not a movie franchise to be taken lightly (or for granted for that matter). Christopher Nolan’s film, “Memento” was the first work he had accomplished that I had ever seen (back in the Blockbuster days - ahem, VHS RULES!) and it is still spinnin’ my mind after all this time. Christopher Nolan ALWAYS delivers some form of ground-breaking excellence in his work - his ‘Dark Knight’ Franchise is no exception.

When one thinks of Batman, it’s very easy to consider the various forms (literature, animation, cinema, video games, etc) of said character (God Bless You, Adam West! R.I.P., Good Sir!). SO many INCREDIBLE & [BEYOND] TALENTED folks have, not only performed as the character, but have helped in shaping this character’s Monumental & Positive Imprint on contemporary society (worldwide).

I still believe Christian Bale is one of the most under-appreciated performers of our time. I first saw him in the Dark Comedy, “American Psycho” (DUDE! Holy Smack-a-RONi! Totally Bonkers & Viciously frightening). I still can’t believe he did not receive an Academy Award nomination for that performance (for shame, HollyWould). As much as I love Tim Robbins (SHAWSHANK, BaBY!), Christian Bale is one of the greatest actors of all time (100% WITHOUT A DOUBT). He plays Bruce Wayne PERFECTLY (TOTALLY the BEST Bruce Wayne OF ALL TIME! DONE! NO ARGUMENT! END-ALL-BE-ALL..”..Been there, Done that - got the album, Bought the Tee-shirt..NEXT” (Ricky Gervais, The Office [UK]). CHRISTIAN BALE DESERVED AN ACADEMY AWARD FOR “The Dark Knight Rises” - I’M SAYING IT - HE DID SUCH A PERFECT PERFORMANCE in (Yeah ALL Caps) this entire franchise. I need to address that because so many folks seemed to be swept-up in their own distractions as viewers (Yeah we get it, he disguised his voice with a growl - get over it, ya’ll). He seems to be a good person (‘seems’ being the operative word) & I’ve read about his efforts in his life off-screen (You are a Good Man, Sir) when the cameras are not around. I have a belief that it’s good for people to appreciate those ‘moments-of-truth’ more often (just one person’s opinion, take it or leave it).

Speaking of ‘moments-of-truth’ - This story (spanning across three EPIC films) is the ultimate moment-of-truth for Sir Christopher Nolan (Why Not?; He actually is CBE apparently; Respect) and his AMAZING Production TEAM’s collective efforts. So many people put their well-being on the line to make these stories happen (some even, their lives, Rest in Peace) and I believe this franchise deserves ALL of the Success & Recognition & Praise (and honestly, Time) for the awe-inspiring efforts put forth (in regards to cinematic storytelling). This is a franchise for the fans (due to how well it honors the source material & simultaneously manages to elevate the art-form).

Bruce Wayne is one of the most important modern characters of our time. Not since the days of Jesus Christ, himself, has there even been someone who sparked a universal impact (sorry ‘Supes’ - You & Ol’ ‘Batsy’ are Tied in my book) upon average people worldwide. Granted - Bruce Wayne is NO Jesus (there can only be one), however, his life’s journey is a true Test of Faith, which is a universal lesson that I firmly believe Jesus Christ was attempting to spread in his message of good faith towards one another.

Bruce Wayne (played by Christian Bale & Gus Lewis, respectively), as it is now [mostly known], was born an heir to The Wayne Family, an age-old empire in modern society (Gotham City, U.S.A.). In Christopher Nolan’s particular take on this (now-classic) SuperHero story - Reality is the cinematic setting.

“Batman Begins” is Nolan’s homage to Richard Donner’s “Superman”, having been THE standard for comic book movies (since the late 1970’s if I’m not mistaken). Having obviously been a fan of Donner’s work (Gee, who isn’t?) - it’s an obvious source-of-influence for the first installment in Christopher Nolan’s Perfect Epic.

When I had first discovered the news that Christopher Nolan was Warner Bros. Studios’ choice for a brand new Batman reboot - I have to admit I was VERY optimistic. After having seen “Memento”, and his work with that incredible team - I was very, very optimistic that for ONCE the Batman universe was going to be actually depicted like it is in the comic books (at least the ‘80s Batman Comics - Hello Dark & Gritty Vibes). Considering the mental intensity of “Memento” (and how linear-storytelling-need-not-apply) - I was absolutely curious to see how well the story would finally be done on-screen (with all due respect to Tim Burton & Joel Schumacher & All previous efforts achieved in the known story-telling community). After all is said and done, this franchise is a ‘Grand Slam’.

Christopher Nolan’s version of Milton “Bill” Finger’s (Bob Kane took all of the credit for Bill’s work; for shame) story of Bruce Wayne/Batman is the most inspiring work I’ve seen achieved on the concept (and characters) to this day. With the initial tone set in the first film - we find a young Bruce Wayne as a child - simply playing in the Wayne family’s garden with his best (& childhood) friend (and one of the most important characters in the franchise): Rachel Dawes (played by Katie Holmes, Emma Lockhart, and Maggie Gyllenhaal, respectively). Bruce & Rachel establish the innocence of childhood (and of our main protagonist) with the playful phrase, “Finders Keepers” which is followed by young Bruce falling into an old dried-out well (which then traps him into a slight crevice, filled with Bats).

As we discover in this story, the symbol of Batman has a rather deeper meaning to Bruce Wayne than what had been initially expected (unless if you’re a fan of the comics). When the first film starts to take form, we find Bruce Wayne lost in the depths of ‘hell’ as an adult man. Having been an heir to a Family’s Kingdom (so-to-speak), Bruce Wayne had lost his Mother & Father; Martha & Thomas Wayne (SUCH Good People) at a tragically-early age, having their lives taken by a lost soul in the dark of night (a reality known, all-too-well, by our own collective experiences as a contemporary society).

Martha & Thomas Wayne establish the core values that help shape Bruce Wayne as an Individual. Their Leadership, their knowledge, their wisdom, their love (their faith). All of their finest attributes shine a light on how the community - the city of Gotham (and their actions as people) help shape said community. Without their Faith, Bruce Wayne’s immediate world probably wouldn’t have even been established for him (perhaps). It is that faith that is the driving force of this franchise, and the greatest tragedy of this film is, indeed, the blatant & cold-blooded murder of Martha & Thomas Wayne. Ya know, they were really good people in terms of their contributions to their household & community & their lives, and they truly cared about their impact on the world (in a greater sense).

With such care, they made important choices (that had an effect on everyone in Gotham, regardless of outlook). Choices that made a necessary difference in, not only their home, but in their overall world. Gotham may be fictional, but I will let the fantasy play and I will acknowledge the tremendous amount of detail put into these stories that went unnoticed in the initial ‘life’ of this franchise’s release. Having said that - Unless if memory serves inaccurate, this film received a lot of unwarranted criticism for the realistic depiction of modern violence (due to the UNGodly public shooting(s) that have been taking place in our country; I acknowledge the real-life tragedies, but also acknowledge the importance of artistic vision). I say unwarranted due to the fact that Christopher Nolan managed to hold up a mirror and we need to pay close attention (and look beyond the glamour & simulated violence), and this was accomplished well-before Todd Phillips’ incredible film “Joker” had been produced (which drew plenty of inspiration from Nolan’s signature style and Heath Ledger’s actual development of said character; Joker’s Journal).

At the core of this story is Faith.

Faith is what was instilled in Martha & Thomas Wayne (and their lessons with Bruce as a boy). Alfred Pennyworth (played Beautifully by Sir Michael Caine in a Nomination-worthy performance for Best Supporting Actor in my humble opinion) is the reinforcement to protect the Wayne Family’s Honor & Good Name. On the surface, Mr. Pennyworth is Bruce Wayne’s Butler, however, when he’s not maintaining the Wayne fortune, he is ‘the guiding light’ (no pun intended) in Bruce Wayne’s Journey (despite the efforts of various opposition). While Rutger Hauer (rest his soul; “BLIND FURY”!!! YES!) had set the tone for what was to come later in young Bruce Wayne’s life (at the funeral for Martha & Thomas Wayne) - it becomes abundantly clear that Bruce Wayne has quite the journey ahead of him in his life (with plenty of whom have pre-developed plans & agendas to seize Wayne Enterprises for their own gain).

Bruce Wayne, born of a Mother & Father, heir to “the throne” (as it were), and thriving billionaire, one day decides to leave it all behind. It’s a moment of internal crisis for our protagonist due to the severely traumatic act of witnessing the death of his own parents (while almost being murdered himself). I know a lot of people think Kal-El (aka ‘Superman’, aka ‘Clark Kent’) is the end-all be-all of Superheroes (myself included), however, after a retrospective look back at Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy it becomes abundantly clear just how much credit this franchise did NOT receive from the critics & the artistic community (Hi, Academy. I’m lookin’ at ya’ll). Despite the worldwide acclaim, I believe this franchise was well ahead of it’s time in terms of the most important aspect of the entire achievement - The Story.

This is a franchise fully-devoted to the story and that is a significant contributor to the success of this version of Batman. I grew up watching old reruns on TV of Adam West & Burt Ward going around and ‘CLEANING-SOME-CLOCKS’ as it were (POW! ZAM! KLAM! CHOWDAH!), and I always hold that version near-and-dear to my heart because I still think the early 1960’s version of Batman was really fun & really awesome & an absolute delight. Plain & simple. ..Granted - as time continued and the characterization of Bruce Wayne (and his alter-ego “Batman”; His Armor; His Protective Shield) had advanced & developed into a new ground (conceptually-speaking). The core values of who Bruce Wayne is, where he comes from, and Why he does [what he does] did not truly become profoundly-realized for me until I’d say when the Animated series (1990’s! DUDE still one of the best Animated Series I’ve ever seen; like ‘a fine wine of cartoons’). “The Mask of The Phantasm” is still one of the best Batman stories I’ve ever seen - Such an incredible origin story for Bruce Wayne - and definitely one of the best animated, full-length features I had ever seen as a kid (Not to discount Tim Burton’s gothic-induced-dream-like version of the knight’s tale).

With Christopher Nolan’s contribution to the overall storyline of Batman - we truly have a Masterpiece Trilogy before us (as audience members). Nolan’s take on Batman is truly like no other (even surpassing efforts that preceded the franchise) in that he actually provides a glimpse into what it would look like if the fantasy actually became a reality. Christopher Nolan achieves that goal (Ten-fold) with this trilogy.

In the first film - what we know about Batman becomes hyper-realized with the emphasis on Bruce Wayne’s life in modern-day America (Gotham City being the quintessential metropolitan All-American city). An America that has succumbed to an overall tone of darkness & hopelessness (with the reality of tangible corruption & streets of truly deadly conditions) which has reached a pinnacle-of-suffering for the good people of Gotham (and perhaps, rippled outward into the rest of the world).

Jim Gordon (played PERFECTLY by Gary Oldman, one of the finest performing actors ever to be on screen), a symbol of Gotham’s defeated Law Enforcement, patrols the streets of Gotham City each night. Jim Gordon is one of the key individuals that Bruce Wayne reaches out towards (in his pre-Knight regalia) in the first stages of ‘Batman Begins’. Jim Gordon was the person who wrapped the coat around (a young) Bruce Wayne’s shoulders after his parents had been needlessly-murdered right before his very eyes. Jim Gordon was the one who kneeled to Bruce’s level, acknowledged his loss, and gave him that moment of kindness & warmth & honest-to-God decency. He acknowledged Bruce’s sorrow & loss with grace. He gave him a moment of simple human decency & kindness for the sake of kindness itself.

Jim Gordon’s kind gesture is merely a moment in time, which made all the difference for a young kid who just needed someone to simply be there for him. A moment that showed Bruce Wayne that Goodness & Human Decency can & does still exist in the world despite a traumatically-life-changing tragedy. Jim Gordon’s simple, nearly effortless act, is a sign that people Do honor good faith (and people who truly deserve it) and the good Do get rewarded.

I really like the character Bruce Wayne. I think he’s a better character than most that I’ve ever seen, especially since he actually has character. It’s a shame that people can not see beyond the surface to find the deeper meaning of this story. Bruce Wayne’s [incredible] journey takes place all over the world. When we find him in ‘..Begins’, he is locked up in the ominous mountains of Bhutan. His home now a desolate wasteland of an existence due to his loss. His tragedy (despite Jim Gordon’s act of kindness) had lead him astray and brought him across the other part of the world (only to discover what it truly means to suffer in poverty & hunger & pain & strife & darkness without any means of comfort). As the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Bruce’s path is the ‘path-of-most-resistance.’ Rather than succumb to a frivolous, meaningless, and hollow existence - Bruce Wayne took the path rarely taken. He chose his own path, to earn his own personal truth, his own story to be lived & known (and eventually discovered by Gotham City).

When Bruce meets an unusual individual by the name of ‘Ducard’ (aka Ra’s al Ghul; aka Liam Neeson; Also played simultaneously by the honorable Ken Watanabe, respectively) in his own ‘personal hell’, Ducard feeds into Bruce’s fall from the path of grace (and his spiritual confusion). Ra’s al Ghul/Ducard is only interested in one thing: controlling Bruce Wayne. As Ra’s al Ghul is the quintessential ‘Handler’, or ‘Hypnotist’ of Bruce Wayne in the training period for Bruce Wayne’s spiritual journey - it becomes evident with each effort from Wayne that Ra’s al Ghul represents The Devil (aka ‘The Prince of Darkness’, ‘Satan’, ‘Lucifer’; The ‘Shadow Side’ of Saturn; See “Yikes!”; See “YOWZA”; See “Hide Yo Kids, Hide Yo Wife”; No Disrespect To The Coven; See Not My Lord; See God Protect Me).

From the moment we first-see Ra’s al Ghul - he is shrouded in darkness - lurking in the shadows within each unseen corner of the world - the proverbial serpent of the shadows (so-to-say). In a manner of speaking, Ra’s al Ghul is merely one of many faces throughout the story that showcase the forces of darkness in this particular cinematic legacy (from the depths of darkness, here to possess the living). Ra’s al Ghul attempts to indoctrinate Bruce Wayne (in Bad Faith) in the Bhutanese abyss; a wasteland for the damned (and where the death of hope thrives amidst the stone-prison-walls). Despite Ra’s al Ghul’s efforts - Bruce Wayne not only proves to be the most-prominent under-study of the cult (while being initiated into a secret society; a clandestine fraternity; a subversive order of assassins following an ancient practice (unknown & unseen by the blissful light of day).

Bruce Wayne’s prominence during his training cycle with ‘The League of Shadows’ (an appropriate title) shows us that he surpasses even Ra’s al Ghul’s expectations: showing how the student becomes the teacher (by upholding an authentic approach to having a Personal Moral Code & Justice & Ethical Values). Bruce Wayne is not only faster, stronger, and smarter than Ra’s al Ghul - Bruce Wayne is also wiser. Due to Wayne’s parents (and his friendships) he truly is ‘the shining example’ of true justice that Ra’s al Ghul has yet to achieve in life (due to his obsessive wrath).

Having destroyed the League of Shadows’ initiation grounds & temple of darkness - Bruce Wayne LITERALLY SAVES RA’S AL GHUL’S LIFE. ‘True Colors’ does not even begin to define such a moment for our protagonist (that’s a true sign of Mercy).

Despite Bruce Wayne saving Ra’s al Ghul’s life, afterwards the dude STILL tries to come back and kill Bruce AND Gotham City (Showing how The Devil has No Mercy for Anything, Anyone, or Anywhere and is just flat-out unwilling to acknowledge when something good actually does happen). Granted, at the end of “Batman Begins” we discover how Martha and Thomas Wayne were murdered as a direct result of Ra’s al Ghul & The League of Shadows (and their hatred for all things Gotham City & Western Civilization). It’s a diabolical reveal that the devil holds nothing sacred in the sanctity of human life. The devil will literally kill an angel after having been saved by said angel. In fact, Bruce Wayne’s own personal brush with death is (tragically) a common concern of not only Alfred, but Lucius Fox (played exquisitely by one Morgan Freeman), a former Board-Member & former colleague of Thomas Wayne (prior to his passing).

Bruce shows us that good people typically make a lot of good friends and have good people looking out for one’s best interest (no matter their walk of life). The most awe-inspiring truth of Bruce Wayne/Batman is that his ‘best interest’ is preserving & honoring the good faith of his community and the people in his life (including his ancestors, mind-you, as well as the herculean guidance of one Alfred Pennyworth). Without friends - life goes nowhere - that’s a universal truth. Bruce Wayne nearly died so many times in this trilogy and I don’t think people appreciate that aspect of these movies. This is an individual who literally put his life on the line to save the soul of the city he loves (wanting nothing other than a good, normal, & happy life). I know people only fixate on ‘the How’, but I think ‘the Why’ is the most important element of Bruce Wayne’s fictional example.

Bruce Wayne (as all of us) exists for a reason. His life (albeit fictional) does have an important purpose in the grand scheme of things (as one puts it).

Of course, this reason is emphasized (more & more) by his best friend, Rachel Dawes (among others). It’s a shame that Katie Holmes did not portray Rachel Dawes in both of the first two films, however, I found it to be very impressive [just] how smoothly Maggie Gyllenhaal performed as the character. It’s one of the rare instances in which a character is portrayed by two different performers who both managed to bring an equal amount of dignity & respect to said character. Katie Holmes & Maggie Gyllenhaal should both be applauded for their contributions & performance(s) as the grown-up portrayal of Rachel Dawes.

Rachel Dawes is the positive-female-influence in Bruce Wayne’s life (complimentary to that of Alfred Pennyworth’s positive-male-influence; or non-gender-specific-neutral-influence? Sure, why not) that is necessary to develop his respect & honor towards women (which is a necessary element of chivalry). Chivalry is not dead in America: The examples set before us can be found within our own real-life society (I shall go into that more later..).

More important than Rachel Dawes’ positive influence on Bruce Wayne is her genuine friendship (since their childhood). Rachel is not interested in taking advantage of Bruce or using him for her own personal gain. Rachel Dawes genuinely cares about Bruce Wayne and how well the quality of his life (as well as the life of the community) have grown. Rachel Dawes shows Bruce what is occurring in the streets of Gotham on a daily basis. Rachel is living, breathing, working, and seeing what has become of Gotham City - a limping giant of a once-prominent-city (Modern-Day America in a nutshell). Rachel Dawes reminds Bruce Wayne of the importance of Good People Taking Ownership of One’s Community. She reminds him that life is not only about one’s own personal pain, but alas, the collective pain of which a community must endure & resolve (as a said community) with good faith; “It’s not about who you are underneath, it’s what you do that defines you.”

In the second act of Nolan’s Cinematic Epic, “The Dark Knight” - Bruce Wayne encounters the tangible result of Newton’s Third Law: for every action there is an equal (or greater) reaction; hence ‘The Joker’ (played enormously by the late Heath Ledger; Rest in Peace).

The Joker is the response to Bruce Wayne’s actions in the first act, and in every way, he is Bruce Wayne’s exact opposite (albeit opposites, their life paths are balancing on the same proverbial axis of existence). Bruce Wayne is a reflection of light while The Joker is a product of darkness (Negative Energy, Pessimism, Hate, Evil, Unhappiness, Pain, Suffering, Misery, Torment, Violence, & Trauma). While Batman is the answer to corrupt forces in Gotham City - The Joker is the reaction to The Bat-Man.

The Joker is the continuation of opposing forces attempting to infiltrate Bruce Wayne’s life & community (as would a specter in the shadows, a spider in the darkest reaches of lunacy; a.k.a. the absence of faith, the inversion of angels; i.e. Demons, Demonic Entities, Dark Deities, etc). The Joker represents everything evil in society - everything sick, everything sad, everything hurt. To The Joker (and the fools before him) - society is an infestation, a plague, a result of toxicity & corruption (especially the light of which darkness cannot fathom). Batman is the antithesis to Joker’s Chaos. Batman is the collective honor & balance of civility & justice & good faith quantified into one symbolic rogue.

Heath Ledger’s performance of Joker was nothing short of awe-inspiring artistry & workmanship (WorkPERSONship?). His passing was a needless tragedy and although his performance garnered him numerous accolades - I wish he did not have to die in order to attain it (It should have been him accepting the award - it should have been him). Without a doubt, an equal to Joaquin Phoenix’s performance (if not Superior) - I still acknowledge Heath Ledger’s ground-breaking performance as a perfect triumph of Acting (although I think the character is absolutely distorted on all accounts; despite Joker’s persuasive wit).

Many people like to compare Joaquin Phoenix & Heath Ledger’s performance(s) as The Joker (folks compare everything in life), and I think both performances stand strongly on equal ground. Total Perfection. No doubt about it - and one kinda goes with the other if you were to align the vision side-by-side. Of course I love me some Jack Nicholson in Tim Burton’s “Batman” - I think he gave an undeniably frightening & charismatic performance just as Ledger & Phoenix (proof of the character’s universal & artistic appeal). Although Heath Ledger’s performance shall always be praised as a definitive milestone in Acting on Film - I still think the character is a twisted f**k (pardon my American).

Not only does Joker attempt to destroy Bruce Wayne’s personal Faith, but also everyone he cares about in his life, and everyone in the entire city of Gotham, USA. The pitiful tragedy of Joker’s existence is the sad truth that he lacks good faith in not only himself, but the people of Gotham, and the one individual who is genuinely trying to make a good difference in the world: Bruce Wayne.

It is a tragedy & a disgrace to humankind that Rachel Dawes & Harvey Dent (played by the Always-Excellent Aaron Eckhart) died in vain (as Thomas & Martha before them). It’s a sin that the Joker did what he did to everyone in Gotham City. It’s unGodly that so many human beings had to lose their lives, needlessly, just because of one individual’s own loss of innocence, and more specific, his loss of personal faith in his life (and in the world, of which, we live). The reason why Joker is dangerous is because he is the quintessential ‘mass shooter.’ He is the terrorist. He is the result of a society that has forgotten him. He is the reason why so many people struggle & suffer in contemporary society - not because he caused it, but because he fed into it - preying on the life force of humanity & destroying the efforts of truly good people who kept striving to save the soul of humanity (within the framework of a struggling eco-system).

If Bruce Wayne did not have friends he would have been dead in the first act of the story - that is a fact. When Dr. Jonathan (Not ‘Frasier’) Crane (aka ‘The Scarecrow’) had attacked Batman (in ‘Begins’) with the weaponized hallucinogens, Bruce Wayne was almost killed. If it was not for Alfred Pennyworth & Lucius Fox, Bruce would have been dead in the streets of Gotham. The consistent importance of Friendship is quite evident when thinking of Bruce Wayne’s network of acquaintances (both in ‘high’ & ‘low’ places) in the city of Gotham. This also applies in the opposite, with Bruce becoming an important (and powerful) friend to certain individuals of Gotham City (in return).

Friendship is a universal quality of humanity that should be cherished & honored. Friendship, like everything, requires effort. Bruce Wayne’s life requires effort even though he is a “billionaire playboy” - he still has struggles just like anyone else, and he shares the struggle with his friends (since they became a sort of surrogate family; more like extended-family; legal & spiritual guardians). Bruce Wayne is a fictional example that no one is free from life’s struggle and life’s personal challenges & lessons (no matter the ‘advantages’ or ‘upbringing’). It’s a sign of brilliance on behalf of the conceptual team behind the vision of The Dark Knight Trilogy. I know a lot of people focus on the action sequences and the drama of the theatrical dance of Light & Dark play out on screen in the form of the Batman & the Joker, but beneath the surface is a sincere sociological & political commentary (and spiritual message).

The Light & The Dark (i.e. Positive & Negative, God & Lucifer, Heaven & Hell, Angels & Demons, the Good & the Bad vibes, The Upward Infinity & The Downward Spiral, etc, etc, etc): it is at the fundamental core of our collective balance of existence; Life as we know it to be. It is my humble understanding that the eternal balance is a necessary process, it requires effort on both sides. Both Light & Dark must cooperate to preserve the equinox-of-existence (just one person’s opinion based off of observation & objective analysis, take it or leave it).

The death of Bruce Wayne’s best friend, Rachel Dawes, was not only a tragedy in Bruce’s life, it was a tragedy for innocence. She was so angelic & kind & giving & honorable & brave - her Faith is what helped Bruce remember his childhood innocence (before he was robbed of said innocence), and her last words (which were concealed from Bruce due to desperate-times-call-for-desperate-measures; see Alfred Pennyworth), she continued to spread the message of Good Faith in Humanity despite the fact that she was needlessly murdered. A defining attribute of Rachel Dawes’ character is one-in-the-same as Martha and Thomas Wayne - the Belief & Faith in Humanity despite the monumental heartache & loss (and yes, trauma & death).

If one recalls the time in the first act when Alfred was bringing Bruce Wayne back from the mountains of Bhutan - Alfred briefly mentions how Bruce Wayne’s ancestors’ tireless efforts to keep their community alive (even at the worst of times) nearly made them bankrupt. It was their tireless dedication (their faith) that paved the way to set a foundation for future generations to prosper (while honoring the efforts of said ancestors). Although their example did not improve Gotham’s economic prosperity overnight, the murder of Martha & Thomas Wayne set the wealthy of Gotham into action (as the story goes).

Bruce Wayne comes from a long lineage of helpers. Helpful People who are Good. People who want to see the best results out of humanity’s efforts (as a whole). People who believe in the power of the individual, and the social end-result of one individual’s tireless faith (and life choices).

Although Bruce Wayne’s ancestors are not the focal point of Batman, they are his bloodline & family’s history which in it’s own right deserves to be honored & respected (I know this is a fictional character, but roll with me here, people HahaHA).

Yes, “The Dark Knight” consists of nothing short of complete Mayhem, and YES, The Joker may make ya pee a little bit (just a little), and maybe even laugh (the writing is pretty damn genius in my humble opinion). I acknowledge that “The Dark Knight” should have been nominated for Best Picture (Double that for “The Dark Knight Rises”), and I acknowledge that Christian Bale should have been nominated for Best Actor his final performance as Bruce Wayne/Batman (I think he was snubbed, but hey I’m not in the Academy, so what do I know, right? HahaHA).

Speaking of “The Dark Knight Rises”, I still believe it’s the best Batman movie of all time. I understand (and have heard) many folks say “The Dark Knight” was a better movie, however, I believe (on the contrary) that not only is the third act of Christopher Nolan’s masterpiece a testament of cinematic storytelling - it is a testament to just how AWESOME we are when we perform at our best. When we work together, we are at our best (as a country, and as a people).

“The Dark Knight Rises”, at it’s core, is a cyclical nod to everything that was established in the first act of the trilogy (a perfect Full Circle), and of course, is the conclusion of Batman. Every lesson in Bruce Wayne’s life, every struggle, every enemy, every friend - every aspect of Bruce Wayne’s life is interwoven with Gotham City (and the people of Gotham) as he & his friends defend Gotham City (and everyone in it). In “The Dark Knight Rises”, Bruce Wayne has become a Hermit; locked away, half man, half mythos, in an air of mystery & fascination (among the ones who still speak of the elusive figure; a fading memory of a silent guardian). And as a hermit, Bruce has become deeply reclusive due to the Joker’s killing spree in Gotham City nearly a decade prior (while exploiting the sick minds & lost souls who stand for nothing [and truly fall for anything]).

While an average person would possibly accept Bruce Wayne’s physically-defeated, emotionally-scarred,  and spiritually-damaged condition - Alfred Pennyworth (God Bless ‘em) does what any individual of Good Faith would do - he encourages Bruce. He sees Bruce as a human being, not as a symbol. He cares about Bruce Wayne’s life, his well-being, his overall fulfillment, and Bruce’s personal happiness. He chose to honor the pact he made with Thomas Wayne to protect the family fortune (most importantly, Bruce). Alfred Pennyworth has his own fascinating & rich history from his own backstory (having been a soldier in his younger years). Fact of the matter is, Alfred never stopped being a soldier at heart. He is True Blue; a true man of the cause; a true Englishman, a true American, and overall a true HUMAN BEING. He is a True Believer of preserving all that is sacred & righteous in our world. He is a Saint and he is a blessing (in contrast to Ra’s al Ghul’s curse-like presence; working in Bad Faith; a destructive force; almost the polar opposite of Alfred).

One thing I love about the final film in Nolan’s titanic, artistic, commercial, & cinematic effort is just how well the Production had managed to pull off the third act (having so many characters and SO much exposition) especially considering the factors that most wouldn’t even consider (i.e. Budget, Lights, Sound, Wardrobe, Set Design, making sure everyone’s hitting their marks, making sure all the stunt-work is safe, making sure it’s all coordinated to the “T” - the amount of brain-storming, conceptualization, the marketing, the pre-production, the principal photography, the post-production, etc etc etc). Movies that require so much of the cast & crew do not always work well, but Warner Bros. & Nolan’s Team somehow managed to actually pull it off. They did what no one else could do - they made Batman real. Christian Bale made Bruce Wayne real. He made Bruce Wayne truly Human (even if just for a moment).

In this day & age (with everything that just happened very recently in our very own United States of America) - one could find a jaw-dropping parallel to what happened when ‘Bane’ came to Gotham City (played ferociously by the envelope-pushing Tom Hardy; see “Bronson”, so gnarly) to what had happened to our own U.S. Capitol.

Bane is the darkness (cloaked with brute force) that feeds off of the fear of humanity. Bane is a product of The League of Shadows (with Hardy’s vocal performance being a nod to UK & Ireland Bare-Knuckle-Boxing Champion, Bartley “King of The Gypsies” Gorman), and was actually ex-communicated from the league (so the story goes) by Ra’s al Ghul (himself). Word around the campfire is that Bane is a force of nature (more destructive than known before) and will stop at nothing to ‘fulfill the destiny of Ra’s al Ghul.’ Bane is a result of fringe-Cult-Mind-Control-Indoctrination (a life devoid of pure faith & free-will entirely; typically due to some possible form of sincere trauma and/or loss and governing authority; aka The Darkness).

The legend of Bane is more rumor than fact. He is just as elusive as Batman, and just as evil as Joker (if not more). Bane’s physicality brings Bruce Wayne to his knees in the third act of Nolan’s 3-piece work-of-art, while also providing all of the intellectually-driven rationale (totally psychotic) behind his Madness & Apocalyptic ambitions. Bane is a real-life-threat to Bruce Wayne & Gotham City (and The American Way). Bane represents the overall threat to our way of life (as a humanity). Bane is everything wrong with world leaders & corrupt forces (cultivated into the most toxic physical form); like a deranged & disfigured Churchill who lumbers about (as a lion in a den) in the underground infrastructure of Gotham City’s sewage system (almost as a warped, drug-induced, Shakespearean Emperor). Bane is a deadly force of nature, fueled entirely by the sickness of bad faith; coerced into his own psychosis by probably the most complex & frightening character of the entire series - Talia al Ghul (a.k.a. ‘Miranda Tate’, played unnervingly-well by one Marion Cotillard [the child played by Joey King, respectively]; her performance sends chills up the spine upon numerous viewings).

While introducing Batman & Gotham’s new enemies, some of Bruce’s new friends in the final (and most epic) installment of Christopher Nolan’s Batman storyline are Officer [Robin] John Blake (played exceptionally by Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and a Wild-Card-Femme-Fatale character by the name of Selina Kyle (a.k.a. ‘Catwoman’, performed very well by Anne Hathaway). Joseph Gordon-Levitt shines as young Patrol Officer Blake - also having been an orphan, like Bruce Wayne, and a true believer in the purpose of Bruce Wayne (Batman) in Gotham City. Unlike Bruce, however, Robin is not a billionaire & Robin was not born into a life of privilege. Despite his brief backstory, Robin Blake, like Bruce Wayne, has Faith in Humanity. It’s why he puts on the uniform (speculative subtext). He does not have the luxury to become Batman, so just as Jim Gordon does - He works with what is given to him. He applies himself within the structure already established within Gotham (despite the restrictions & limitations of said structures of society). He, like ‘Serpico’ before him (see Al Pacino) is a regular Cop who just wants to do what the Law is supposed to do: To Protect & To Serve the good people of Gotham City.

Selina Kyle, on the other hand, is on a path between The Light & The Dark (on a sort of ‘spiritual tight-rope’ between the two paths). Selina’s life path is one of constant survival and constant running. As a ‘Cat Burglar’, Selina Kyle is a flat-out Crook. Her tough exterior conceals what truly is underneath her mask - a person who, too, has faith in humanity (proof that the ones who wander are not lost). Unfortunately for Bruce Wayne, as previously-mentioned, ‘Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures’ - and Selina Kyle’s desperation put Bruce directly into the hands of Bane & The League of Shadows (at a truly disturbing moment in the film). While forces of The League of Shadows’ (combined with a few of Wayne Enterprises’ own ‘bad seeds’, i.e. Daggett, Stryver, etc) disseminate chaos throughout the plot of “The Dark Knight Rises” (by destroying the city of Gotham and exiling Bruce Wayne across the world into a pit of hell) - all of the friends Bruce Wayne has made start to band together to organize a resistance with the surviving members of local (and once-established) authorities. The honor, the people, the community of Gotham City, and the overall driving spirit - the collective faith of the city (as a whole) had been damn-near destroyed entirely in this film. The resistance was born from those of whom are still faithful to their city and the rights of every individual who resides within.

Between the clandestine operations of Robin & his fellow law enforcement officers (all trapped underneath Gotham due to The League’s devastating terrorist attack), the United States Federal Government (and necessary agencies) & Wayne Enterprises (with ‘Miranda Tate’, Lucius Fox, etc), and the awe-inspiring action-sequences in this grand finale - there is no denial that the final installment of The Dark Knight Trilogy is the most realistic & visceral revolutionary epic set in modern-day America. It’s funny when one stops to think that this was all originally based off of a comic book character published by Detective Comics in the late 1930’s. It’s astonishing to think of just how far this fantasy story has evolved throughout the years.

Bruce Wayne is more than a comic book character. Bruce Wayne is a symbol of humanity. That is his ‘superpower’ - his Humanity. He is more than just a person fighting crime to honor his family’s faith & heritage - he is honoring the faith of humanity as it stands today. After all of the corruption & loss & trauma - Bruce Wayne never lost faith in what we have in life (even after losing so many loved ones and frequently having his own life in harm’s way). As he strives to defeat the darkness of Gotham (by striking fear into the hearts of those who prey upon the fearful), the force of darkness continues to rise to attempt to destroy & defeat The Light (Futility at it’s finest).

The greatest villain of all, Batman’s most incredible threat throughout the entire trilogy is actually Talia Al Ghul (Ra’s al Ghul’s daughter & heir to The League of Shadows; the true leader of the cult). She is the one who almost destroys Gotham City (if it wasn’t for Bruce Wayne and everyone who stepped up to do what was right to defend the city).

Although Talia does not fight Batman physically - she is the only villain who ever slept with Batman & exploited him with complete intimacy (seducing Bruce Wayne in a seemingly romantic moment in the film). Talia (still known as “Miranda” by this point in the story), appears innocent & sweet upon first glance, however with multiple viewings of the film, one begins to understand the disturbing nature of what Miranda/Talia is and is Not saying in Bruce Wayne’s presence (a brief glimmer of her spiritual void). Talia al Ghul truly is Ra’s al Ghul’s daughter and her light has been completely stamped out by the fact that she, not Bane, was the one who came out from the pit of hell (as it is revealed in the climax of this epic conclusion). The Devil lurks in many forms - in this particular case, Talia al Ghul displays the darkness as it exists in feminine form. Marion Cotillard was the most over-looked performance of the series (in my personal opinion) and I think as much as Tom Hardy does not get enough credit for his, at times, somewhat Macbethian performance (albeit not as flamboyant as Joker, but even more deadly) - I believe Talia al Ghul is the greatest threat to Gotham City in this trilogy (sorry, fellas).

While magnifying the character of Talia al Ghul, one must acknowledge her natural ability to be a ‘Wolf-in-Sheep’s-Clothing.’ She is the deadliest threat to Humanity due to her belief in a necessary demise of Gotham (seeing Gotham City as a hotbed of hypocrisy & imperialism). Talia al Ghul has no problem burning the barrel over a few bad apples (if that makes sense). While Talia is the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, she was also simultaneously dictating every strategy for The League of Shadows behind closed doors. She is the ‘Queen’, ‘The Head of The Serpent’, The Leader of ‘The Hive.’ She is the quintessential ‘Wicked Witch’, The ‘Bad Girl’, the ‘Goddess’, Kali, Baphomet, etc etc etc). She is an individual, born into a pit of darkness, and exposed to a potentially-life-shattering amount of trauma (based off of the staggering display of complete psychosis; albeit tremendously stealthy & downplayed under her facade of congeniality).

Talia al Ghul is the mastermind who inherited the crown from Ra’s al Ghul’s ‘throne’ (if that makes sense). She is a product of trauma, suffering, & loneliness, but more importantly, a severely sick individual who needs some serious mental & emotional help (more than Joker & Harley Quinn combined) and is the deadliest foe of all (due to her intellect & internalized rage & female fury & her knowledge of all things Gotham & Bruce Wayne/Batman). Talia al Ghul, like Batman, is a force of nature; especially due to her complete cutthroat tactics and inversion of personal Faith in Humanity. Talia al Ghul initially comes across as a meek & angelic person, responsible for the credibility & success of Wayne Enterprises. Her entire life, however, has been dedicated towards the infiltration of Gotham City, USA, and she is the only character in the film who is truly superior to Bruce Wayne in terms of sheer will-power (He caught up to her in the end though). What saves Bruce Wayne is his network of friends (Alfred, Jim Gordon, Lucius, Robin, Selina, etc), in addition to his mind, body, & spirit (once they attain alignment).

I don’t know what others have said, but I think Robin & Catwoman were actually done brilliantly in “The Dark Knight Rises.” Robin was a pleasant surprise for me as a viewer (truth be told; although I thought Ryan Gosling (GOS!) would have made an amazing Robin in ‘The Dark Knight Rises’; much respect for Joseph Gordon-Levitt), and Selina Kyle/Catwoman is fascinating due to her being the wild card of the last film (that truly helped level the playing-field; Girl-Power).

Catwoman, unlike Batman & Robin, is a big question mark throughout the majority of the last film. Her presence is just as elusive & threatening as Talia’s, however, Catwoman (unlike Talia al Ghul), underneath it all, is a Good Person trapped in a bad situation. That is a common thread in this storyline - Good people being in bad places (i.e. Jim Gordon, Lucius Fox, Rachel Dawes, Harvey Dent, etc). On the flip side of the coin - there are plenty of bad folks in good places amidst Gotham’s corrupt forces (i.e. Dr. Crane/Scarecrow, Carmine Falcone, Judge Faden, Detective Ramirez, Detective Wuertz, etc). It’s a reality known all too well in our modern society.

When one observes the overall arc of Bruce Wayne’s transformational life experiences in Nolan’s Comic Book Epic - I have to reiterate the notion of duality consistently interwoven within each one of these films. Light & Dark - Good & Evil - Positive & Negative - the eternal dance - it is the driving force of this franchise (as Bruce is the quintessential “Light Worker” - not that I’m soliciting ‘New Age’ [or ‘Old Age’ for that matter] ideologies, just a matter-of-saying). Bruce Wayne symbolizes The Light of God found in human form (at the very core and most-primary form of what Natives call, “The Great Spirit”, respectively), of which must seize the day to tame the night. Bruce is the epitome of a Capricorn/Aquarius cusp (Western Astrology/Zodiac) - in full force - bringing the water to those who are thirsty, bringing food to those who are starving, and healing the suffering of a people by means of very serious mental, physical, and Yes, Spiritual Work & Seriously Visionary Goals. Bruce Wayne is the Light while Bane is the Darkness of Humanity (the brute force, the inversion of light); the absence of faith. Although he does indeed have an inherent belief within his bones (and muscles reminiscent of mountains), Bane is still dependent on man-made ideologies & approaches (entirely based in the material world). The League of Shadows are attempting to summon the fires from hell in order to bring the dark prince into Heaven to seize the light (again, futility) to fulfill the devil’s ultimate lie (talk about a God-Complex..Oh me, Oh my) of Superiority (‘Can’t we all just get along?’).

When examining Talia al Ghul’s presence as a double-agent mastermind - her reveal is one of the most important plot twists of the series. Talia being a hidden “mole” within the resistance of Gotham City during The League of Shadows’ Hostile Takeover sets off Martial Law in Gotham - which sparks an uprising in the city that eventually saves Gotham (due to the efforts of a network of people who utilized adaptability & effective methods of coordination & action). Bane is to Batman as Talia is to Catwoman (just as Harvey is to Rachel; Duality; Gemini, Twins). What’s so incredible about Selina Kyle is her purpose in the story as a symbol that people CAN & DO redeem themselves despite having a checkered past (something a good amount of folks have in this day-and-age, myself included). Although the clandestine efforts of Gotham’s resistance had been futile due to the fact that Talia al Ghul was hiding in plain sight (a stroke of genius on the writing), Selina Kyle was the defining individual that tipped the scale in favor for Gotham City (and more importantly, Humanity as a Whole). She had an opportunity to leave Gotham and have a clean slate, but she had a personal moment-of-crisis... That’s because she has a soul, and in her soul, she knows, by faith & intuition, that humanity needed her help (one could speculate). She went back & risked her life (God bless her), which was a full circle nod, of which, echoed the sentiment originally planted within the first film: The moment when Rachel Dawes asked a younger Bruce Wayne, “..What chance does Gotham have if the good people do nothing?”  (Edmund Burke; ‘Thoughts on the Cause of the Present Discontents’ [1770], regarding the nepotism of a monarchy).

Talia al Ghul is a highly-complex character (next to Bruce Wayne) in the series due to the potential life she may have lead as an orphan born in the pit of hell (shot in the jaw-dropping landscape of Jodhpur, Rajasthan, India). She is also the most tragic due to the fact that she literally has an opportunity to leave her life of pain & suffering behind to be with Bruce Wayne, but succumbs to the ‘Shadow Side.’ ...You know something is ‘rotten in the state of Denmark’ when she would rather destroy the world than have a ‘happily ever after’ with Bruce Wayne. Her spirit fell back into the proverbial pit of despair & darkness (without ‘The Light’) that she had escaped from (in a metaphoric sense). Bane, like Scarecrow before him, is merely a pawn in the worldwide game of Chess (‘all the world is a stage...’). The tragedy of Talia is that she is someone who was born into darkness and literally had to pay for the sins of her father (as her mother did, tragically).

Talia al Ghul is the most heart-breaking villain of the trilogy simply due to her life being a complete tragedy. One begins to ponder if she had a romantic evening with Bruce Wayne simply because she had felt the cold winter of loneliness for too long, or if she desperately (just for a moment) wanted to be one with God’s Light & a person’s gentle embrace (although I don’t know I might be wrong - she was probably like “Hey, it’s either Scary-Ass Bane or six-pack abs Bruce Wayne. HMMM. Let’s tip the scale on that one - HAhaHa, I digress). Regardless of reasoning - Talia al Ghul’s complexity is probably no match for the intense unhappiness she carries with her. It’s no surprise due to the fact that her mother’s absolutely unGodly demise (so sad) was the catalyst that sparked her mission from Hell (with her hound-of-hell on a leash, aka Bane). As much as I may condemn Talia al Ghul & Bane - I want to reason with them. I want to listen to them and I want to let them know that America is not a bad place, and we are not a bad people. I want to find a common ground, and extend the olive branch (as the saying goes) in order to help heal their pain & misconceptions of Americans and Humanity (as a whole), without having to give my (or anyone else’s) life in the process.

I have a belief that if Talia al Ghul was given a fair & ample opportunity to have a better life in America - she would have taken it (if she had not been so deeply-programmed with hate). I have the understanding & more concrete belief that it is due to her life-long journey of trauma-based-indoctrination as the main culprit as to why she simply won’t cease & desist from committing further acts of wrath upon Humanity. Talia al Ghul could have put just as much effort into the healing as the killing (but she fell back into that spiritual pit). I know why she hates. She hates because she weeps, deep down inside in her soul at night (when no one is around), for her trauma & her unbearable internal pain. She hates because she is repeating the pattern of trauma that may or may not have been applied to her mind, body, and worst of all - her soul. She hates because she had hatred put into her (since being a small, innocent child) and she put that hatred out into the world (a severe lack of comfort, love, care, family, and yes - Faith). Although symbols of lightness, darkness, duality, and representations of sins & faith are all spread across this monumental achievement in film (without having to shove a Cross in someone’s face) - at the very core of this film is, again, the importance of faith in humanity despite our individual & collective tragedies (and shared injustice). The importance of striving, no matter the odds, no matter the pain, no matter how dark the night.

I believe the BEST moment in the entire story was the moment Bruce Wayne climbed out of the pit to save his people. He could have easily died a painful & shameful death in that ancient prison (while watching his city & country being destroyed by an insane fringe cult; a militia of madness; a false liberation). A lot of people seem to overlook just how incredible & truly powerful that moment is in “The Dark Knight Rises.” Tom Conti (a perfect performance of an apathetic mentor-like figure; complimented brilliantly by one Uri Gavriel as the exiled Medical Doctor of a Monarch) & Christian Bale’s overall dynamic in the entire pit sequence was a masterful stroke of storytelling (tying back to the first film, putting Bruce Wayne back where he first began). It’s fascinating to find Bruce Wayne, with a severely-injured body, having to rebuild himself and strengthening his spirit to rise out of the pit of despair - the pit of personal hell, the unforgiving pit of Time (Capricorn; Saturn; Kronos; “The Task-Master”, “The Reaper”; Reward or Punishment; Karma; The Lord of The Rings). The moment of truth comes when Bruce Wayne discovers (through numerous attempts) that it is his spirit that must rise to seize the light - without vanity, without any fancy gadgets, technology, tricks up his sleeve, or any clever contraption (or vehicle) to assist him in the process. This was a moment for Bruce Wayne and Bruce Wayne alone. This is what we call our moment to “Shine” as an individual being...  our independent spirit. Bruce Wayne had to learn what it meant to climb out of the pit of hell and abandon his fear (as the child in the legend had done; Talia al Ghul).

The pit can represent many things to many different people. The eye of the beholder truly does apply to this (as well as any) story. For the individual to think & feel for one’s self - and to also believe in one’s self. The pit can be a literal prison - or it could be a wealthy kingdom. I know (from personal experience) the feeling of being at the pit of one’s own existence. I know what it means to be a prisoner trapped in one’s own body (due to unwanted pain & suffering & hidden trauma). I’ve learned the plight of humanity and the experience of suffering in the night (I’m just like everybody else). I have been there. I have known the darkness. I have known what it means to “dance with the devil under the pale moonlight” (as the expression goes). I’ve known what it means to defend the innocent from evil, thrusting myself into danger to save family members from toxic masculinity & extreme violence (since being a little boy). I have known the darkness, which is why I kept searching for my own personal truths & answers (which ended the day I had a near-death experience & literally saw The Light of God; 100% Serious). I have known all of these things, but I also know that the people who put that hurt into me had that same hurt (if not worse) put into them...  That’s the paradox of trauma. The original source goes so far back it’s pointless to trace - which is why I look FORWARD in Life. I no longer dwell in the weight of one’s misery & spiritual darkness - I seize the light by choosing a good life (to fulfill my own purpose).

At the risk of my own humiliation & embarrassment (and at the delight of those of whom feel actual glee out of my personal struggles & suffering; God knows who you are), I can acknowledge that I am someone who has lived “in the darkness” before. I have known what it means to suffer and toil without the light of God in my life. I have abandoned my own belief in God before, and my own personal Faith before... it’s not something I am particularly proud of, and although I have survived various life experiences that made me plunge into the pessimistic side of life (having been mentally, physically, and yes - Sexually-Abused in my early childhood) - I reach out (in spirit) to anyone who may be reading my words, who has possibly fallen from the good grace of God (especially due to what has happened in our country). I, too, know what it is to lose faith in God & The True Light (as opposed to the Man-Made light). I know what it’s like to suffer & hate “The Believers” (my trauma came from a so-called “believer”).

You know, stories are more powerful than one may ever think (as well as Family, Friendship, Fun, and Faith). I have lived in my own personal hell before - I have ‘had it all’ and then lost EVERYTHING the following year. I have rebuilt my life SO many times (too many damn times), and I’ve learned one ultimate truth that I MUST share with everyone who is (and will be) alive to read these words...

..There IS A GOD. THERE IS A LIGHT. It may not be visible because we cannot see what lies beyond the veil of existence, but I assure you - Everyone is Alive for a REASON (and Individual Purpose). Women may have the divine gift of giving Life (RESPECT!), but we ALL have the gift of giving LIGHT (each in our own unique way). We all have a way to help heal and put something good into the world, despite our shared pain & trauma, as a people. We all deserve to be happy and have a decent opportunity for a healthy & happy existence (ESPECIALLY with our modern-day world; unless if folks start committing crimes and harming others and whatnot). I believe we are all at our best when we cooperate & coexist with one another (despite our individual differences). The Light does not need to shine out The Darkness just as The Darkness shall never overthrow The Light. We can live in a spiritual Harmony. We do not have to walk the same path. We do not have to share the same spiritual beliefs. I just think we CAN share this world (as I believe we are truly alive in what is known as the Garden of Eden).

We do not have to destroy ourselves to prosper. We can live among one another (with dignity & respect & honor). I’m not always happy to see that people willingly practice certain principles & “values”, but who am I to judge? That’s why God is here... It’s a tough lesson to accept, but it’s true. I should not judge someone just because they worship darkness - because at the end of the day that’s between them and their purpose in life - not mine. I have walked the line, but I never learned from others shouting in my face - I learned from listening & civility & patience & yes - Faith. That’s the purpose of the light - not to drown out the dark, but to work together (as Santa Clause & Krampus do), as a balance of necessary elements that will always be present in our own reality. We, as a contemporary society, have lost touch with the natural way of the world (well, a good amount of folks anyhow). We, as a humanity, have become so vain that we do not even know which way is Up & Down anymore - which way is truly Left & Right. We, as the soul of humanity, have suffered in the darkness for far too long (due to those who wish to control our individual light). We, as a country, MUST help one another climb out of our collective pit of despair - our sociological prison (cultivated through the last aeon), our ‘darkness.’ It has happened before and it can happen again - and to all of my fellow beings of whom shall always carry within us, The Light of Goodness, the love of God, and the wisdom of The Light - I say to thee: RISE.

I give Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy a PERFECT 10 out of 10! The most inspiring superhero franchise of all time (in my opinion). Bruce Wayne & Gotham City show us that Chivalry is NOT dead in The United States of America (despite our challenges). Christopher Nolan’s Cinematic Achievement is victorious in it’s final conclusion: Gotham City IS worth Saving, as our very own Humanity - and Yes - We can all have a better way of life without having to sacrifice our own lives in the process. We can rise to fulfill our individual & collective destiny (as decent human beings) and have, not the life we need, but the one we DESERVE.

*This is dedicated in loving memory to everyone who has lived & died in service of The Light..✝️

“I see a beautiful city... and a brilliant people, rising from this abyss... I see the lives, for which I lay down my life: peaceful, useful, prosperous, and happy... I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendents (generations hence)... It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known...”