#from scratch as a love letter to Bruce

[psalmsofpsychosis]

"The devil finds work for idle hands" but it's Alfred side-eyeing Bruce like "the devil finds idle hands multimillion dollar clean energy independent projects to fund"

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5

Part 4

After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.

Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.

“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.

Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.

“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.

Jazz gave him an amused look.

“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.

“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.

“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.

“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.

“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.

There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?

“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.

“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”

Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.

“Duly noted.”

“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”

“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”

Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.

“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”

Jazz gave him a wry smile.

“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”

Tim choked. Jason swore.

“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.

“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.

Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.

“What’s ectoplasm?”

“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”

“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.

“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”

Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.

“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”

“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”

Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.

“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.

Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.

“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”

“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”

“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.

“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”

“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.

“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”

Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”

Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.

“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.

“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”

Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.

“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”

“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”

Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.

“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”

She gave him a sad smile.

“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”

Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.

“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.

“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”

Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.

“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”

Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.

“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”

Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.

Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.

“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”

“Yep.”

“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”

“Sounds like it.”

“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”

Tim groaned.

“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”

“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”

Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.

“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”

Part 6

[hood-ex]

My brain made a record scratch sound as soon as I read Dick's inner dialogue in The New Titans #113.

"I’ve been fighting for so long. Have I forgotten what it is to live? Is that what came between us, Kory? Have I been immersing myself in work so I wouldn’t have to think of anything else? Have I been trying to control everything and everyone so things wouldn’t… slip through my fingers again. That somersault [the one he performed the night his parents died] was my rosebud, my last moment of real innocence. When that awful gunshot rang out, my childhood instantly ended. I was still in tears when he [Bruce] took me into his home. He gave me a new life. A good life. Maybe it wasn’t the kind of carefree child’s life I had till then, but it was thrilling and scary and fun. And even now I wouldn’t trade it for anything… except if I could just see my parents one last time to let them know how much I love them. And still miss them."

Because even though Dick admitted he would want to tell his parents he loved and missed them one more time, he didn't mention bringing his parents back to life, which immediately made me think of Devin Grayson's inner dialogue for Dick in Batman: Gotham Knights #14.

"You’re not an easy man to be close to, Bruce. As much as you may care about any of us, I know you’d trade it all in a heartbeat if you could have your parents back. And I’ve never really admitted this to anyone, but I don’t think I would. Trade, I mean. And I don’t think I’m ready to see your face if I told you that, which is why I’m never gonna send this letter. But I wouldn’t trade this for the world. Love, Dick."

Which then reminded me of this scene from Infinite Crisis #4.

[002yb]

So I see you subscribe to the Damian and Jason met in the League theory. Therefore, please allow to share this idea that won't leave my head - Damian matchmaking Jason and Dick. Just Damian noticing how much Jason loves romance novels and wanting Jason to have his own romance novel worthy relationship, and deciding Dick is the correct option to work with.

An AU where Jason stays with the League to watch over Damian as his guard and nursemaid caretaker. Damian being besotted because Jason's love for him is fierce and protective and his; because Jason is synonymous with kindness and safety. Jason's is a devotion that is unconditional. He's unapologetic about it, too.

There's no secret in how Jason makes sacrifices for Damian. The challenge he gives, the punishment he takes. Jason goes through hell for Damian. He brings the League to heel for him. Anything, everything, and more to protect this boy.

The love/hate/want Ra's would have for Jason, omg. But that's neither here nor there. Point being: Damian and Jason have a close relationship.

They soothe each other, though Damian doesn't realize what a comfort he is. It feels one-sided to him because Jason is so soft with him. Tough with his love, but patient. Gruff in his kindness, but generous and caring. He's too good for the League. That he stays with Damian, for Damian, is something that Damian struggles to reconcile most days because it indirectly says something about him.

That he's worth it: the love, the affections, the coddling. The safety. The kindness. That Damian must be good, too.

Damian being weighed down by the seeming lack of reciprocity on his end. Because he wants to take care of Jason, too. He wants to make sure Jason is as happy as his caregiver has made him.

It's on one of the rougher days at the League - where they're both beaten and bruised from a fight over the severity of Damian's lessons (where Jason intervened and lashed out on Damian's behalf when Damian couldn't do it himself - all bloodied hands and bruised skin; where Jason was taken to be reprimanded by Damian's grandfather and came back to their quarters limping, but with a crooked smile) that Damian concocts his plan.

Because it would be a routine: Jason reading to him. Damian's head rested on Jason's lap, Jason's fingers scratching through Damian's hair. The lull of Jason's voice drawing Damian to distraction or sleep.

And he would realize that it's not just a routine. It's a hobby. Because Jason is often reading in their spare time when Damian isn't demanding his attention.

So Damian fully listens as Jason reads about adventure and romance. Love stories that make Damian pull faces until his cheeks are pinched in retaliation.

But he listens. And he watches Jason, all the while.

And at some point, Damian resolves that he's going to give Jason a love like out of the novels. He'll find a man worthy - one that's everything of the men that Jason discreetly swoons over and is tickled by.

No one in the League fitting the profile Damian has built. No one anywhere being good enough, in fact.

Until Gotham.

Because, as it turns out? Dick Grayson is everything Jason has ever dreamed of. Funny thing is: he is. Because Dick is Jason's first love. Of course Jason was subconsciously attracted to similar qualities of the love interests in all the novels he read.

But Damian is clueless that it's not that Dick fits the profile he made - Dick is the profile.

So it's comically cute how proud of himself Damian is because there was never anyone other than Dick.

This is where the thoughts drop off, but maybe Bruce 'dies' and the ensuing grief/uncertainty/alienation prompts Damian to reach out to Jason via letter. And they correspond like that for a time. It both soothes Damian and makes his heart ache, but he's resolved to be strong like his caretaker, so he persists.

Dick noticing the consistency of the letters that come in/go out and the positive impact it has on Damian. They seem to ground him, humble him. It makes working with him easier and like that Dick and Damian start building a proper relationship as Batman and Robin.

The way these two would bond over being homesick. Because Dick isn't a stranger to missing people, places, and times they can't go back to. Just Dick becoming this support to Damian; a home away from home.

And it's when that comfort comes about that Damian starts talking about Jason - his beloved.

Which Dick is baffled by because what? Damian is ten.

Which Damian clicks his tongue at because that's his caregiver; his guard. Jason is most dear to him.

They talk about Jason. About what Jason sacrifices for him. About the letters. A slow unraveling of the more vulnerable parts of Damian because Jason makes him soft.

And of course Dick falls in love through hearing Damian's stories. Because Dick might not know this person's name, but he knows they're beautiful: passionate, brilliant, wicked, kind. They're brave in a way few are - steadfast morals and ironclad resolve. They're also endearing with what Damian describes as a sharp tongue and truly scathing wit, ornery and playful. It's clear that Damian's humanity was saved by them, kept safe by them.

The first time Dick and Jason interact being through a letter. It's not even directly addressed to him. It would be something Damian saved from prior correspondence and passes on to Dick who maybe loses part of himself to the cowl and is having a bad go of it.

So Damian gives him this letter that helped him when he was at a low point and Dick isn't expecting anything from it, but then he reads it and it fucks him up. It's soothing and encouraging; puts things into perspective and rekindles hope in his heart, warm and bright.

Dick adds a thank you note alongside Damian's letter the next time Damian mails something. When the reply comes: two envelopes.

The note Dick gets from Jason? Scathing. But in a tough love sort of way that puts a smile on Dick's face because wow, Damian wasn't joking about the mouth on this man. Still, he's charming. And so obviously kind - to write back like this.

It's something Dick should leave alone.

He doesn't.

He writes back, though it's only to talk about Damian - how he's doing, what he's been up to; this and this and this. Everything Dick can think of that Jason would want to know that wouldn't be breaching Damian's trust with him.

And this would be how Dick and Jason become penpals, of sorts. Texting would be easier, but there's something nice about a letter, too.

(Meanwhile Jason, at the League, heart racing because the romance of it, fuck!! ;//////; )

The correspondence persisting. While Damian's always at the forefront of both their thoughts, he's mentioned less. Instead they talk about what they can. Largely mundane until at some point they both realize their letters are pages long and filled with banter and inquiries and postscripts that are too lengthy for what they're meant to be.

There's this oddness to their relationship because they don't know each other's names or faces, but they know each other. And over time, they understand each other, too.

Which is why Dick picks up on how Jason might be homesick, too. Because he's alone in the League and his reason/purpose for staying has gone. More than anything Dick wants to tell Jason to run, to come to him them, but it's not his place. He sends pressed flowers, instead.

(The way Jason's breath catches when they fall from the letter and he realizes what they are. The tender way he'd admire it, smile soft and crooked. He'd hide them in the pages of his books, memories for him to cling to so he won't forget again).

Damian in the periphery, quietly smug but minding his business as he works in the shadows to bring his two most important people together.

Things being good for a time, only to fall apart when Jason's letters taper off, then stop completely.

Safety is a foregone thing in all their lives, but the reality that something might have happened weighs on them. Damian especially, since he's saddled with the regret of not bringing Jason with him from the start (though truth be told, Ra's wouldn't have allowed it).

Oh. When Talia first told Damian he was going, it was with the intention of Damian going alone for all the reasons - meeting his father, learning from Batman, being safe. Jason not being allowed to go even without Damian telling him to stay. And Jason being put in the position to take the fall for Damian being 'taken' from the League. And all the punishment/repercussions of that. Which just escalates over time and reaches a head when those letters get discovered ahhhhhhh.

Jason being used as bait to lure Damian back to the League. A foolproof plan because Damian is soft and seeing what's become of Jason after Damian left him alone is enough to break his heart.

So Damian's ready to give it all up. Only Dick and Jason aren't about that at all. Cue all the rescues and a joint throwdown with Ra's. Something something Dick's brutality and cruel passion piquing Ra's interest and earning some begrudging respect because it's something Ra's understands well. Which...leads to...a tentative truce?

Anyway, when everything is said and done, it's Damian and Jason crumbled to the floor and in each other's arms. It's Jason soothing in that way he does and it's Damian stubbornly biting back tears because he's never been so scared for someone.

And it's Dick walking up to them and Jason catching his eye and for a moment - recognition. For Dick. Almost for Jason.

They're all bloodied, bruised; gasping breaths and aching bones. But it's Dick's breath caught in his throat, his heart beating so hard in his chest that he feels faint. Blinking through the blood in his eyes because - it's Jason. It's his little wing.

(It makes sense. Who else would take on the League to protect another child soldier? Who else loves so profoundly? Deep and compassionate and gentle. Who else sparks hope like this but Robin?)

It was always Jason. Just like how for Jason, it was always Dick.

[rotten7rat]

Batfamily + Cooking

Alfred:

He's the main cook, and has been since taking the job as the Wayne's butler. Classically trained in the culinary arts, and thankfully stillvery much enjoys it, though not as much as he used to. He likes baking more than cooking, and has gotten more of a sweet tooth as he's gotten older. Leans more on your classic British dishes, but is always happy to try a requested recipe. Prefers to cook either alone or with competent help.

Bruce:

No. Cannot even be trusted to make a grilled cheese, he always burns them.

Barbara:

Pretty good. Very much a 'throw something together at 7:30, eat at 8' kind of person, but everyone is always happy to have what she cooks. If it takes hours to make then its not worth it. A teacher suggested once that being raised by a single father, she must do most of the cooking and cleaning, and after that she refused to learn how to cook out of sheer stubbornness.

Dick:

An excellent cook. I think it comes naturally to him, he didn't spend much time cooking growing up but once he taught himself the basics he can pretty much throw anything together. Its by no means a passion of his, but he does enjoy it. However, he doesn't cook often due to being too busy and/or tired, so he gets a lot of takeout or just has something quick or microwavable very often. But if he's cooking you best be there. Anything can be a social occasion and he happily accepts help in the kitchen. Not great at baking though, he always manages to over-cook or over-mix.

Cassandra:

I'm sorry but she will throw rice, water, and and an unseasoned chicken breast in the rice cooker and call it a night. Either that or she'll have a protein shake and seven eggs.

Jason:

Quite good. Unlike Dick, it doesn't come naturally to him, but he is a fast learner and picked it up mostly from Catherine, Alfred, and YouTube. That being said, would he prefer tortellini en brodo or four boxes of Kraft mac and cheese? Tamales or something quick and greasy from Bat Burger? Its always the second option. I think he often cooks as a distraction or just something to do, and just gives it to the single mother across the hall or throws it in the freezer to eat a week later.

Stephanie:

Decent. She'll see a recipe on TikTok and will try it instantly, and she's always excited to try something new. Works best with a recipe but decides just to wing it mostly. Cooking with her mother has become somewhat of a bonding activity. Really good at baking, especially things like brownies and cookies. However, she will also throw pickles, peanut butter and ice cream in a blender and swear it tastes fantastic. Is learning to cook more because everytime she sees Cass eating a boiled chicken breast she takes psychic damage. Trying to sneak meat alternatives into Cass without her noticing. It worked once.

Tim:

Not great. Will follow the recipe to the letter and will somehow still fuck it up. He mostly sticks to simple recipes that are hard to mess up, and also just doesn't have the desire to spend heaps of time in the kitchen. He does make a mean sandwich though, every time someone tries to replicate one its just never as good.

Duke:

Doesn't particularly enjoy cooking but he's fine at it. Not as bad as Cassandra, he will season his food, but prefers it to be quick and not complicated. Loves heavier foods like pastas and other carbs but doesn't have the patience or desire to make them from scratch so he uses jar sauces, frozen potatoes etc. Will put taco seasoning on everything.

Damian:

Good eventually. Doesn't cook a lot now, but when he was younger he had a kind of 'well obviously its not difficult, its just cooking' mindset. He was humbled. By Dick. I think when he's older he is much better. Will still follow a recipe so it is perfect every time. It isn't a hobby, just a task that must be completed, but he'll be damned if he's eating bland food, he will spend an hour preparing vegetable tagine. Nobody can help of even be in the kitchen with him while he is cooking, because they are breathing all the kitchen air and taking up all the room. Get out.

[idyllcy]

and baby, if you knew

word count: 2.1k || pt2 of saying we're just friends

warnings: mentions of the night before (?), morning after, hickies (?)

summary: oh the horrors of getting caught the morning after

You stare at yourself in the mirror, blinking incredulously. (Partially out of pure shock, partially because sleeping with your contacts on was NOT a smart decision on your end)

Holy fuck, Tim got mouthy with you.

You tilt your neck to brush your fingers over the hickeys, gawking at the way it trails down your neck and collar to your chest, the purple popping on your skin. Sure, you weren't half as pale as Tim was, but hello? You didn't even bring concealer. You weren't expecting him to take you to the Wayne Manor. 

"Tim." You swallow, grimacing.

Tim raises a brow, shirt pulled halfway over his head.

"How many hickeys did you give me? Do you have a whisk? Do you have ice? Are you secretly a vampire???"

"One question at a time, lovely." he mumbles. "Seven. There's a whisk and ice downstairs. I am not secretly a vampire, although I can see why you'd guess that."

You blink at him. "Do you have a collared shirt?"

"Just settle for one of my shirts for now." He pulls the shirt over his head, tossing you the other one in the bed. 

"Please tell me it's not sheer."

"It's not."

"Thank GOD you're rich." You mumble. "It's a blessing to have non-sheer white shirts."

"Yeah, I get that." He mumbles. "Come on. Alfred called us for breakfast a little ago."

"Which one of your siblings are here?"

"We'll see." Tim hums, shutting the door to his room. (All of them are downstairs, likely. They were probably having a post-valentine debriefing like they usually do. Bruce was not spared from it.)

You duck behind Tim when you notice everyone having breakfast.

"You said we'll see! Are none of them staying with the people they were out with last night?!"

"It happens every year." Tim hums, holding his hand out for you. "Come on. Don't do the walk of shame."

"Seriously. I run a stan account for you and live in my dorm. I'm practically a hermit." You deadpan. "I am NOT cut out to be meeting your family this early in the morning."

"Master Tim, young miss. Are you ready for breakfast? We are having pancakes."

"Just kidding I would kill for pancakes right now." You mumble, following behind Tim as he sits you next to him.

All eyes are on you as you adjust the collar of your shirt, the tag scratching against your skin, the hickeys on your neck visible. You thank Alfred as he places a plate before you, and you start at the chocolate chip pancakes. Holy shit, fuck the eyes on you, this was heaven.

"Alfred, do you have a recipe book?" You blink at him, eyes wide in admiration. 

"Which recipe would you like, young miss?"

"Oh, all of them if possible. I'd love to be able to cook half as well as you can." You hum, taking another bite of your food. "Do you have a digital copy?"

"Unfortunately, all of it is on paper or in here." He smiles, tapping his brain. "But I am more than willing to provide you with any recipes you may like."

"Mm!" You shove the last piece of the pancake into your mouth, swallowing as you get up. "Tim, do you have a laptop? I want to type a couple recipes down and transcribe what's on paper—"

"Pull open the drawer to your left." He hums.

You pull it open, blinking at him.

"There's a false bottom in it. One of my spare laptops is in it. The password is a combination of letters." He hums.

"With significance?"

"Yes."

"Oh, then I know an approximation, then." You hum, working your finger into the side as you prop it open, pulling his laptop out. "Is it our birthdays?"

"Wait, how did she–" Dick's cut off when you manage to open it on your first try.

"Alright. I'm gonna go! I'll be with Alfred if you need anything." You smile.

"She just?" Duke blinks incredulously. "Did she just hack open your laptop on her first try? Is she in compsci like you?"

"English." Tim grabs a couple pancakes, cutting off a piece of butter. "Creative writing, technically."

"Oh, is she making her own major?"

"Yes." Tim hums. "I don't actually know how she guessed that it would be our birthdays since I only changed it a little while ago. It'd be easier to open if it was just our birthdays combined. Maybe she was stalking me."

"Or, maybe all the years of running a Robin Twitter account finally paid off." Jason shrugs. "She's quite a big writer on the internet too, you know?"

"Yeah." Tim hums. "She's quite the character. Have you read her works?"

"I have." Damian speaks up. "Her writing resembles poetry, pulling on the strings of your heart and snapping them at moments you least expect."

"You've read her works?!" Tim raises a brow at Damian. "That's surprising."

"She resembles the poets."

"She'd love to hear that come out of your mouth for sure." Tim mumbles. "Anything else I should know?"

"She covered me for change once while I went to buy cup noodles." Cass mumbles.

"I'm mutuals with her on Twitter?" Steph points.

"Okay, that's not the point. Timmy." Dick deadpans. "Did you sleep with her last night?"

"Sex or just plain sleeping? Because we did both—"

"I DIDN'T GET TO GIVE YOU THE SHOVEL TALK!" Dick cries. "Okay, when a man and a—"

"Dick, I'm well over into the ages of a legal adult." Tim sighs. "Besides, I'm like seventy percent sure that you gave me the shovel talk when you first found out I was dating Ari in high school. Also, I got one from my dad and Bruce, so I think I'm good."

"Oh, right." Dick mumbles. "But still."

Steph pauses. "Does she want a whisk?"

"She was asking for one earlier." Tim hums.

"We'll go help." Cass mumbles, getting out of the seat, dragging Steph.

"Okay, Tim. Is she the one who was making you all red and blushy during Christmas?" Dick slides closer to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

"Yes." Tim sighs, batting Dick's hand away. "She was."

"How'd you ask her out?"

"Told her if she had nothing to do on Valentine's, then she could stick with me and I could plan a date." Tim reaches for another pancake.

"And she agreed?" Jason snorts. "Wow. She's way out of your league."

"Yeah, but at least I got B's absolutely insane ability to pull." He mumbles. "Pulled way out of my league, for sure."

"If you fumble her I fear the things that will happen to you, Drake." Damian clicks his tongue.

"Do I... know her?"

"Duke," Damian sighs. "You're smarter than this."

"He's messing with you right now." Jason pours himself another cup of coffee. 

"What's your relationship with her." Tim deadpans.

"She used to peer review my poems." He hums. "It didn't click until Damian showed me her information this morning, though."

"You just let them go through my girlfriend's personal information?!" Tim finally looks at Bruce, who only gives him a shrug.

"No harm in knowing a little more about your girlfriend."

"I swear, if you bring her in on the vigilantism—"

"That's not happening. I can promise that." Bruce glances at his almost empty mug. "Does she know?"

"She called me out for being Red Robin last night in the car." Tim sighs. "Besides, it'd be strange if she didn't notice immediately how similar Red Robin and I's voices are."

"She's been running your account for how long... now?" Bruce motions for Jason to pass him the coffee.

"Since middle school, so like..." Tim pauses. "Give or take seven years."

"That's a long time." Dick mumbles. "My longest-running fanpage is only six-ish years." 

"If you count the Gotham Gazette, then I've been running for the longest." Bruce snorts. "Is she the one?"

"I think she is." Tim smiles. "And if she's not..."

"Then I will personally see the end of your life, Drake." Damian grumbles. "I shall have mother adopt her and have her write poetry for me in exchange for a living space and food. She shall be the equivalent of a court poet except to mother and I."

"I honestly think she wouldn't turn that down." Tim grimaces. 

"Is she that desperate?"

"She's joked about sleeping with a millionaire to make some money." Tim grimaces. "Something something desperate situations call for desperate measures."

"She would love it in mother's mansion, then." Damian hums, sipping on his tea. "I shall have her write a poem for your death. It shall be my last mercy."

Tim grimaces. "What if she breaks up with me?"

"Then you're in the fault, obviously." Jason mumbles, looking at his phone. 

"So it's my fault regardless of what happens?"

"Listen, her tweets are unhinged. You can't say you like crazy girls and then get annoyed when you date one and she acts insane." Jason grumbles.

"He's got a point, Timmers." Dick hums. "I hope it works out for the best, regardless of the ending."

"Twenty bucks they are endgame." Damian mumbles.

"Alfred bet ten that Tim would pop the ring."

"Ugh, come on. You know no one out-bets Alfred." Dick groans. "Did he set up the jar?"

"He did. This morning." Duke hums. "I put my bet in too."

"Come on–"

"You can't say shit when you bet on all of our relationships and pretty much came out unscathed in all of them." Jason glares. "Shut it."

Tim rolls his eyes, surrendering himself to the idea that his relationship would get bet on. 

"Tim, can I marry your sisters?" You come out of the kitchen, eyes sparkling.

"We're dating." He sighs. "Pretty bird—"

"EWWWWWWW" A mixture of faked hurls and gags are heard in unison as Tim rolls his eyes. 

"Ignore them. Why do you want my sisters?"

"The hickeys are all," You pull your shirt down too to show your cleavage, the hickeys no longer visible, "gone! Your sisters are really good at this."

"Yeah..." Tim sighs, reaching to pull your shirt back up. "Steph isn't my sister, by the way."

"Oh, yes, I know." You smile. "After all, if she was, it'd be strange that you've dated her before." 

Tim chokes on the air at your statement.

"Besides, she's my mutual." You hum. "I also got Alfred's recipes, by the way." You hum, smile on your face. "I also got his chocolate chip cookie recipe, though I need to figure out what the secret ingredient is."

"A dash of vanilla extract." Tim lowers his voice. "Don't tell the rest of the family."

"Got it." You give him a thumbs up. 

"Do you cook?" Damian speaks up.

"I do! Mainly ethnic foods, since there isn't much of that here in Gotham." You mumble. "Got any good Chinese places?"

"Oh, there's this place on Seventh Ave and Jester." Bruce speaks up. "I used to get dim sum there. It's only open from eight to twelve, and you need to get in via reservation. Feel free to borrow my name whenever. Just make sure to invite me."

"Uncle Dan's, right?" You beam. "I went there a while back with another friend, but I miss like... the dim sum that's messy and chaotic in the morning."

"Oh, then try the one on Lightbeam." Dick pauses. "Ah, what was the other street?"

"Oh, that one's good." Duke agrees. "Sam Woo's Dim Sum and BBQ."

"I've had that too!" You smile. "They're good, just quite a while from the university."

"If you really want something good," Cass speaks up from behind you, "try Jin."

"Jin?"

"It's smaller, but it's family-run, and it's been doing business in Gotham for three generations already." Cass hums. "They're called Jin, but the Chinese character for gold. They're right by Gotham U too. On the corner by Circle K."

"The sketchy looking alley??" You blink.

"Yes, but their dumplings are to die for." She pauses. "And they sell in bulk if you want to boil any in your dorm."

"Tim, I want your sister."

"Pretty bird, we just started going out." He clicks his tongue. 

"Tim, if you break her heart, I will date her." Cass blinks.

"You can visit her when she stays in mother's mansion."

"Hm?" You turn to blink at Damian.

"Ignore him—"

"Should you and Drake break up, I have already arranged your living arrangements, should you agree to it."

"And what might they be?" You hand the laptop to Tim, pointing at the document you shared with yourself.

"With my mother. Your only job shall be to write poems and short stories to entertain her."

"Living and writing for the Talia Al Ghul? Count me in." You sigh dreamily. 

"Alright." Tim shuts the laptop after changing the password. "We're going to get going before her roommate calls the cops on her."

"Oh, right!" You mumble. "It was a pleasure meeting you all! I hope to see you again sometime?"

"Tim, send her number in the chat later!" Dick calls as Tim pulls you out.

"Sorry, they're quite embarrassing." Tim mumbles.

"They're warm." You smile. "I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." 

Tim sighs in relief at the look of fondness on your face. Right.

You'll be fine.

[scottsummersgal]

Album tag game - 6 albums you've been listening to, plus one track from each that you're especially fond of

Thanks a bunch for the tag @dontirrigateme :)

--

Tango In the Night (Deluxe edition) by Fleetwood Mac -> Everywhere - 2017 Remaster

This is my favorite song to listen to in the morning or whenever I need to get myself into a good mood. I just love how dreamy and upbeat it sounds.

Magic by Bruce Springsteen -> Girls In Their Summer Clothes

This song makes me feel so nostalgic. But in a good way! It really feels like the end credits of a coming of age film. The kind that leaves you with an epiphany about life.

Hold An Old Friend's Hand by Tiffany -> All This Time

Okay...it's cheesy and a little corny,,, but I'm cheesy and corny so it's to be expected.

When Did We Do That? by Letters to Cleo -> I Want You To Want Me

It's so catchy and such a 2000s song. It's perfect for dull afternoons when I need to feel energetic. I just...love it so much, it's so fun

Revolution Radio -> Bang Bang

Bang Bang is the first song I listened to. I saw the lyrics used in a video edit once and nearly spat out my drink because it was so evocative the sound was exactly my kind of thing. I love the punk sound so much! Honestly @executethyself35 @dontirrigateme this album kind of gives off your guys' vibes but not in a violent way! Just really energetic and punk rock <3

Love In The 4th Dimension by The Big Moon -> Cupid

I love this album and the way it sounds! The melodies, the instruments, the energy...it just scratches that itch in my brain and it feels so me.

no pressure tags: @caseofvatsixtynine @goneandbackagain @bast0gne @melancholictearz @1waveshortofashipwreck @love-studying58

[bonded-by-love-and-hatred]

Can't sleep so have some random lyrics from songs I associate with Jerome, Jeremiah, and Bruce.

Wayleska:

Try to tell you, "No"

But my body keeps on telling you, "Yes"

Try to tell you, "Stop"

But your lipstick got me so out of breath

I'll be waking up

In the morning probably hating myself

And I'll be waking up

Feeling satisfied, but guilty as hell, yeah

- One More Night - Maroon 5

Well, I have called you darlin' and I'll say it again, again

So kiss me 'til I'm sorry, babe, that you are gone and I'm a mess

And I'll hurt you and you'll hurt me

And we'll say things we can't repeat

Put your hand in mine

You know that I want to be with you all the time

You know that I won't stop until I make you mine

You know that I won't stop until I make you mine

Until I make you mine

It's hard to feel you slipping through (You need to know)

My fingers are so numb (We'll take it slow)

And how was I supposed to know (I miss you so)

That you were not the one?

- Make You Mine - PUBLIC

Valeyne:

My girl's a hot girl

A riot girl and she's angry at the world

Emergency, call 911

She's pissed off at everyone

Police rescue, FBI

She wants a riot, she wants a riot

And everywhere we go, she gets us thrown out constantly

But that's okay

'Cause I know, I know, I know my baby would do anything for me

- Riot Girl - Good Charlotte

I'm gonna get you to burst just like you were a bubble

Frame me up on your walls, to keep me out of trouble

Like a moth getting trapped in the light by fixation

Truly free, love it baby, I'm talking no inflation

Too many war wounds and not enough wars

Too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores

Too many sharks and not enough blood in the waves

You know I give my lover a four letter name

- Irresistible - Fall Out Boy

Valeskacest/twinleska:

I'm the paper cut that kills you and the priest that you ignored

I'm the touch you crave, I'm the plans that you made

But fuck all your plans, I'm bored

"And can't you hear that scratching?" I ask your eyes

- That Unwanted Animal - The Amazing Devil

You say you're a good girl, I say you're a liar (I say you're a liar)

How could such a good girl, love a vampire? (Love a vampire)

Kisses aren't enough, I wanna bite through you

I would never lie to you, I would never fool you

- your favorite dress - Lil Peep and Lil Tracy

Jerome:

Lifestyles of the rich and the famous

They're always complainin'

Always complainin'

If money is such a problem

Well they got mansions

Think we should rob them (rob them)

- Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous - Good Charlotte

Hard days made me, hard nights shaped me

I don't know they somehow saved me

And I know I'm making something out of this life they called nothing

I take what I want, take what I need

They say it's wrong but it's right for me

I won't look down, won't say I'm sorry

I know that only God can judge me

- The Young and the Hopeless - Good Charlotte

Aaaand I alternate these to whichever ship I feel like in the moment lol:

You're my enemy and my remedy

But if you're not gonna bleed for me, go (Go)

Said he likes crazy girls

But he hates when I act crazy

It takes two to toxic

You've been getting to me lately

I know I can be destructive in the things I do

Will hurt you, and might make you hate me

But I'll still love you

- Crazy Girls - TOOPOOR

Like some kind of sadist

I think that he likes to see the pain in my eyes

He knows that I'm lovesick

He kissed me and promised I will be alright

We both know it's bullshit

The longer I'm with him the less I'm alive

- 911 - Ellise

I have so many more, (literally an entire Spotify playlist dedicated to these three), ESPECIALLY FOR JEROME OMG ahem... Sorry. Not really. If you want more random lyrics lemme know and I'll make a part two!

[nikrei]

September Comics Round-Up

Did not make my schedule of one year per week but also 1967 had 17 titles to read so I think that's okay.

Action Comics (336-371) (1966-1969)

The superman understanding of the ancient Greek pantheon/mythos is the messiest bullshit i have ever seen. 1! Never acknowledges that wonderwoman exists! 2! Completely mixes up greek and Roman names for gods. 3! Sooo many randos get upgraded to gods usually Achilles but most notably just now: prometheus???

Superman (183-213) (1966-1969)

Okay one of the oddest conceits that they like to have superman do is, when he needs an emergency Clark Kent double, he finds a random amnesia patient about the same size gets them to dress up as him, and then afterwards cures their amnesia, which almost always wiped out their memories of portraying Clark Kent (i don't think it works that way??) Where is he finding all these people just wandering around?

Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen (91-117) (1966-1969)

Whelp, it's more Jimmy, nothing really new to say.

Superman's Girl Friend, Lois Lane (63-89) (1966-1969)

They are getting a bit more modern and experimental with Lois's fashion and hair and I'm really enjoying it. On the other hand I had to read, with my very own eyes, and editor letter response that said "everyone knows women can't keep a secret" in answer to why Jarvis gets to know Bruce's identity but Lois can't know Clark's.

World's Finest Comics (156-182) (1966-1969)

I think WF is #1 for number of "imaginary tales" but I particularly liked the one where the Kent's adopted Bruce after his parents death. Jimmy and Dick's friendship continues to delight.

Superboy (127-153) (1966-1969)

I love Insect-Queen Lana more than anything else going on in this run, lana's love of bugs and whole-hearted embrace of the weird body horror transformations adds such an interesting facet to her character I love her. Also it is extremely funny of them to deage ma and pa by editorial order via an alien tv director deaging them to please his possible sponsers.

Adventure Comics (342-376) (1966-1969)

This is starting to get a little bit plotty almost! I'm enjoying it a lot. I'm also enjoying that we are starting to get character building moments out of uniform. The Ghost of Ferro Lad story about had me in tears! However! Save me from anti-feminism sixties story that is supposed to be happening a thousand years from now.

Aquaman (26-43) (1966-1969)

Garth nickname collection: Little Sardine, Sardine, Tadpole, Little Minnow, Minnow. Orm has shown up! I'm really liking him actually his unknowing uncleness to aquababy is v cute and fun. Speaking of aquababy I am expecting him to die any day now I am constantly surprised that he's still alive.

Green Lantern (43-58) (1966-1968)

Loving the artist team on this honestly, everyone is so fluid and expressive, and Hal's waist is snatched all the time. The split into two bodies issue really made me fall in love with plain old Hal Jordan, he's just so good even/especially when he is just a guy. Also, I love it when Hal uses the invisible power lantern as a weapon.

Justice League of America (34-60) (1965-1968)

Same old justice league stuff. Issue 57 is one of the worst things I've read in a while and I'm so not surprised that it hasn't been collected in any trades (judging by its lack of digital colors)

The Brave and the Bold (58-81) (1965-1969)

1967 is truly a guessing game of "which flavor of racist will we be today?" Will we be anti-indigenous? Anti-asian? Anti-black (no, no then we'd have to admit black people exist, better scratch that and make it "anti-robot") I'm so tired they think they're being so progressive with these storylines about "look at how well this culture is assimilating! The mystic old ways of their people are at once the enemy and something to be revered. From a distance tho. Wouldn't want to get too close." Its not just a Brave and the Bold problem but a bunch of it just happened in a row in that title so this is where I'm complaining.

Doom Patrol (94-121) (1965-1968)

Okay I knew it would happen but i still cried when they died... literally took me two pages to go from "la-di-da" to tears damn..... Rita my darling I'll miss you!!! I can't believe that we don't get a reaction comic for Gar and Steve tho.... just bam, they're dead, it's over. People in the sixties u've really let me down by letting it end this way.... more people should have written in.

Hawkman (12-27) (1966-1968)

This continues to be really good! Despite being extremely 60s-brained they try as hard as possible to show katar and shayera as equals in everything they do, its not katar saving her every time (tho he does a lot of the time it is still 60s brained) recommended if you are interested in the hawks and thanagar!

House of Mystery (156-173) (1966-1968)

Dial H for Hero is a v fun little set up, and I am sort of obsessed with Robbie's little catchphrase/ exclamation "sockamagee!" They gave me one (1) issue where his friend who is a girl finds out his identity and gets to try out the dial herself, only to them have her bungle everything and lose her memory of it because she's "just a girl" I hate it here (the 60s). J'onn J'onzz continues in the backups and continues to boot be what i expect. He's investigating crimes now but he is also committing identity fraud to do it (impersonating a millionaire that he saw die)

Metamorpho (1-17) (1965-1968)

Rex <3 Sapphire forever i love them! They really go overboard on the 60s slang in this title to the point where I am really not sure that anyone actually talked like that. The way smaller titles bend over backwards to pretend superman doesn't exist for their plots to work is honestly a little endearing. Rex literally hanging out with the guy in JLA, but noooo aliens are mysterious and uncommon, and the president is Definitely gonna call Rex Mason about them. Not a huge fan of the love triangle introduced, and it gets down right bizarre at the end with a bit of a cliffhanger, but overall worth a read if you are into Metamorpho!

Teen Titans (1-13) (1966-1968)

Rereading because the titans are my darlings. I especially love the little bits at the start of the issue where they are just kids hanging out.

The Spectre (1-10) (1967-1969)

I really love Neal Adam's art it's got a really delicate touch and dramatic shading, and he does figures really well. Also a shout out to Jerry Grandenetti/Murphy Anderson for some truly inspired panel layouts and lettering stuff, you don't get a lot of this back in the 60s. They decided to tell an entirely different sort of story for the last two issues and it is not a neat transition tbh.

Showcase (73-80) (1968-1969)

Some fun character intros for the creeper, hawk and dove, bat lash (surprise fave, what a guy), and dolphin, and some other guys too.

Anywho, that's that for September! Here's how my spreadsheet is looking:

As u can see I have given in and decided to go back and pick up The Atom, so I have that to look forward to in October!

[dracoconcordia]

I'm probably the only person who thinks this but Nightwing probably should've ended up with a cat instead of a dog. My reasoning? Mostly biases. But imagine say cat being around 9 to 12, blind, and absolutely not friendly. When Dick tries to take her to a shelter where he learns they'll most likely put her down so he takes the cat home instead. At first he has no idea how to bond with his new pet, she's not like Alfred the cat, and he even gets scratched a few times. Slowly through research and patience Dick gains her trust. Also I think he would be fascinated by how easily she finds her way around despite not being able to see.

But the cat is still hates most other people though. Damian actually feels hurt when the cat hisses at him. He letter makes it his "mission" to win her over. Barbara and the feline do not get along at all. She gets very jealous of the cat but the moment she suggests/demands rehoming "that thing" Dick straight up tells her no and that this is his cat. (He fought very hard for this trust and he won't give it up.) They break up after that, probably. (From what I've seen she's pretty petty.) One day Bruce climbs into his apartment and is promptly attacked by the cat. Dick rushes into the room to find Batman holding the cat as far away from his as possible as his face bleeds from several places. That's when he knows that this is his cat and she'll fight for him like he would for her.

Most dogs love everyone but building that love with a cat is special.

[mr007pennyworth]

An Open Letter - 'To The Other Half Of Me'

Ship; Alf x Gareth @dontcxckitup

_

To my bravest captain, best friend, confidant and soon-to-be dearest husband, I do hope you come across this letter in the best of moods.

I have few words to describe the most recent year that has passed let alone the immense joy it has been to finally have you back at my side. After Thomas and Martha died, I feared the black that enclosed young Bruce, whom I have spent my life raising alone, would never cease to hover across the estate never mind our days. Now you have returned to me on the faith of many a prayer I may have made over the years it seems the gloom of Gotham may have finally lost its grip on us both.

I never have been much lucky in life, nor has the world been all that caring or loving either since that day I left you on the borders of Libya to face a mass of horrors and lies in Israel. I felt damned from that first car ride away from the base, knowing I was leaving you to a new fate of growing on your own, not knowing how much I longed to call you my love. Never knowing whether you would receive my letters or even wish to read them once I had gone, I could do nothing but simply try to make my feelings known line by line until I could return to England to find you. I held on to every correspondence with hopes I'd see you again, leave my bed every morning with them tucked safely in my trunk and the bullet you once scratched your name on in a pocket of my vest as we patrolled the borders.

My life at the point before I met you had become stale and I longed to return home for some sense of purpose again. Your presence in my life has brought colour and warmth to everything and every day I am grateful that you stood by my word and side all these years. You have added new meaning to my life and it has never felt this brilliant before.

Even now that I am no longer the man that once asked you to trust, and follow without question, asking you to understand that your safety was all that mattered and I wouldn't lead you astray, I once again ask you to follow me into the new life we have agreed to build together, knowing that the only thing that matters is what we want from here on out.

I promise to give you the life you always dreamt of, we will surely make one of the best power couples the world has ever seen, I can not wait to seek new adventures with you beside me as my husband knowing that a long-running army gag was indeed precognition to our future together. I apologise that this new world and realisation of my love for you came about after the death of your wife, I can wholeheartedly say that should she have been here today she would be immensely proud of the man you have become, as much as I am, despite what you have suffered through. 

Whether my heart is weaker, my legs are unstable and my mind has been damaged from years of abuse by my own hand or Thomas Wayne’s, I can swear on whatever God you care to name that my love for you will never falter in its intensity and grows richer every day that I awake to find you at my side. 

I apologise beforehand for my overbearing protective tendencies or my need to mother unto distraction at times, I have become so used to fathering Bruce that I just know my hand to guard you will lead before I can reconsider myself. I admit it will be difficult to step back and allow you to be our own man after so many years of being no less than your older brother in some of our most exciting yet dramatic times together. I can only hope my affections or my parenting will not drive you up the wall too soon before our wedding day. 

My love for you feels endless, enough so, that I have feared many a night drowning in the intoxicating sense of you, spending nights in my bunk with my heart wanting to tear itself from my chest with its screaming. You may find I have become rather more open with my affection after all these years, but now knowing it is reciprocated and with none to judge it is impossible for me to have any sense of control over it any longer. I may have been broken but I can promise you that we can repair the cracks over time. 

You have become everything and more of what I wished for you, from a scrappy second Lieutenant you have grown into a most intense and outstanding human being and I am honoured to say I had been the hand you agreed to hold both back then and as of now. 

You have flown to heights that no one could have ever predicted and it’s beautiful to see how invested you have become in the life you have built for yourself, I can only hope I can become an addition to that life that does not feel threatening. 

It is no use denying how much light you have brought into my life when even Bruce has come around from his childish dependency on me and begun to step forward himself now as a genuine businessman and he himself can not wait to be witness to our union and perhaps finally seek out a life beyond the city he cemented himself into at the death of his parents. 

I do hope the prospect of becoming a stepfather to him will not discourage you from making your own place in our lives in turn. I fear it would be impossible for me to set him free completely even if I have recently requested to be retired from my position as Head Butler of the Wayne Estates. 

I have amassed a wealth beyond imagination over the past twenty years of being under service to the house and with Bruce paying for mostly anything of the requirement for the grounds or himself I have had very little to spend it on but a few small niches and feel it is about time I seek to find ways to spend it not only on yourself but out in a world that I will be blessed to see at your side. 

As the day of our wedding grows closer, I hope you understand just how much your love means to me that you accept me even now after everything we have faced, knowing that we can become even stronger and face even more together once again, scars and nightmares aside, we can build something beautiful to enjoy until the end of our lives. 

I promise with every fibre of my being to be the soul mate you require to get through anything we may come to face, I promise to love you every second of the day and through every second of the night, I promise that I will fight to stand up for our marriage even when my legs have finally failed me or my heart grows unstable enough to be unable to follow you into danger.

It is with everything I am and all the years we have behind us that I promise you that I will be the only man in the world you will ever need. 

with all my love, adoration and admiration and soon to be yours forever

Alfred J Mallory-Pennyworth. 

[min-xiao13-exe]

Stay With Me CH-5

THIRD PERSON'S POV

Y/N operates the Quinjet with ease and maneuvers it to the Raft Prison. The staff looks disturbed to see the Earth's mightiest heroes locked up in cages and screaming in pain as they float through the hallways with a purple glow encasing them.

"Pay up Fury, I told you I could capture them," Y/N said as she walked up to Fury.

"Fine here's 10 dollars," Fury says as he hands Y/N 10 dollars.

"What's with you saying my undercover name, I thought you hated it" Y/N snickered, a sly smirk playing on her face

"You do my work and I respect you," Fury hands Y/N a purple envelope with the Avengers logo on it "Which is why you are now an Avenger, this is your recruitment letter, Enjoy"

"Now, what do I do with them?" Y/N asked as the boxes floated around the room

"Release the mind spell and let them gain consciousness. I want to talk with them" Fury said settling down on one of the chairs near Tony's cage

"It's called Panic Room and I might put you in one if you say the name wrong again" Y/N Threatened as the boxes started levitating along with her and started following her movements, she opened her eyes and they were White and were emitting purple glow which caused Agent Hill and Agent Phil to be on defence positions

"Ask your people to stay down Fury, I am not a threat unless you make me one" Y/N said in a low voice as everyone dropped their guns.

Y/N muttered something under her breath and the boxes broke, the glass turned to thin air as the touched the ground and slowly the Avengers were kept on the floor. Their tactical gear shoved away from them and suddenly Y/N stuck to the ceiling as the rest awakened.

The first one up was the Maximoff siblings, turns out they never were in the Panic Room, they were just asleep on command.

Then next was Thor, Loki, Bruce, Steve, Bucky and Peter. After them, Tony, Natasha, Rhodes, and Sam stirred a bit to wake up but were still crying as if being tortured.

"Oh for the love of God wake up!" Y/N said, exasperated by how much time the three people took and snapped to wake them up. The four Avengers jerked awake and looked around in surprise to see their surroundings changed.

"Good evening Avengers, sorry if this seems inconvenient to you but this was a test for a fresh Avenger to see if she was worth being in the group and as you can see, she has succeeded," Fury said as some agents and medical help surrounded the Avengers to treat any kind of injuries and weakness.

"Y/N Maximoff?" Tony asked as he got to his feet.

"Yes, her mission was to bring all of you here on the Raft, without a scratch on their body and willingly. Honestly, this isn't what I had expected but it was still perfect" Fury said as a voice above him whispered, "Hi Everyone".

A girl dressed in Black and Purple slowly crawled down the walls of the Raft Prison and stood behind Fury

"Meet Y/N Maximoff, Who is also known as Amysthyst" Agent Hill said while sitting on a desk behind Steve.

Y/N 's Suit slowly glowed purple and she started looking like a young college girl and sat down on an empty spot on the couch next to Wanda.

"So you're Y/N, How did you copy my webs? It is nearly impossible to do so!" Peter whined, Y/N slowly walked over to Peter and looked straight into his eyes as a Purple ring replaced his pupils, he slowly closed his eyes and one tear slipped through his eyelashes, Y/N whispered in his ears "My work is done" and Blue glow encased him. A panicked Tony Stark rushed forward "Leave the Kid alone! " " Stark, I am not a threat unless you make me one. I had borrowed half his abilities, I'm giving them back with a bit of my own as an exchange" 

Peter slowly woke up and looked around, the rest were looking with awe. 

"W-what? Why are y'all looking at me like that?" Peter asked as Tony checked his vitals. "I don't know if it's possible but kid you just might have got an upgrade in your body's system" "Which means what?" Peter asked looking at his arms and legs to see if anything had changed but he felt like something was not of his own

"Whenever I or Pietro had asked, you said it was too dangerous! This isn't fair!" Wanda said exasperated 

"It only works for some certain power combinations, you and Perry are overpowered individuals, and most likely the new powers would try to kill you because it competing for the first preference of your body's defensive approach" Y/N rambled on 

"So people get glowy eyes after this or what?" Steve asked looking at Peter with worry

"Not exactly, You can get all kinds of things," Bruce said 

"Ah Dr. Banner, You seem to know quite a lot! I guess Fury told you." Y/N said 

"But really what can you do?" Tony asked 

"Quite a lot but this isn't the correct place to demonstrate my capabilities," Y/N said 

"We can take you back to the compound, 

Fury has already counted you as a new Avenger so we can give you your room, space to practice, whatever you need" Natasha said 

"Fury, can I take them upstairs?" Y/N asked, Fury nodded in response 

They proceeded upstairs on the roof of the Raft Prison. A raging storm was there but neither of them got drenched. Y/N had built up a defensive shield around the whole group "Listen Up, I can teleport but I will lose a lot of energy so we gotta fly" Y/N said while they passed the Quinjet 

"We won't use the Quinjet?" Natasha asked looking puzzled

"Nope, I have a ride for each of you," Y/N said and pulled out a lighter. She gave it a shake and it started glowing purple as a bunch of Wakandan Ships cornered in "You have two choices, Either fly with me or with King T'Challa and General Okoye" Y/N said as sparks began to build from the lighter's flame which slowly grew into a large and beautiful bird with vibrant plumage. Its feathers possessed a brilliant shimmer, appearing as if they are aflame. The bird's body was graceful and elegant, with shades of fiery red, orange, and gold reflecting off its body. It took everyone quite a lot of time but everyone backed out, except Peter. He was too stunned by the appearance of the bird that rose out of a flame.

"Parker! Get on quick! Blaze doesn't like to wait!" Y/N screamed as the Wakandan Ship flew off and T'Challa came on comms "What is taking th spider so long?" "I don't know but I don't care. He's coming with me" Y/N pulled Peter up and set him behind her on Blaze and flew off.

Masterlist

[mkarchin713]

Bruce wasn’t sure he liked being a little brother.

Sure Danny was Alfred’s new son so they weren’t technically brothers, Bruce’s parents told him to treat Danny like family because Alfred was family. Bruce thought that should have meant Danny was his cousin and not his brother. Mom and Dad said they would explain when Bruce was older.

Danny was skittish at first. He acted like Boots, the kitten Bruce found in the forest behind the manor. The second he let Boots out of the cage he caught her in she run off and whenever Bruce tried to catch her again Boots scratched him. Mom told him Boots was scared and that she didn’t know Bruce was trying to help her. Bruce had to be gentle, quiet and patient and wait for Boots to come to him. Bruce followed his mothers advice and he and Boots became best friends.

Danny acted like Boots when Alfred brought him home he hid away and yelled at Bruce whenever he wanted to play with him. It had been Moms idea for him to treat Danny like Boots. So Bruce would find whatever room Danny was hiding in, sit down and read his book.

At first Danny just ignored him but after a while Danny got curious about Bruce’s books and started talking to him. Danny only really started talking with Bruce when he introduced his new brother to Boots. Danny asked if Boots was named after the constellation and proceeded to explain the story of Bootes.

After that Danny actually started acting like a Big Brother, or at least Bruce assumed that was what he was doing. Danny helped him with his homework and played games with him. Danny watched Grey Ghost with him and explained what the weird words meant.

Having a big brother was great, until Bruce started noticing things where different now.

Bruce knew his parents worked REALLY hard to help people and didn’t always have time for Bruce. Now what little time he had with his parents he had to share with Danny. Bruce even had to share Alfred.

Danny also never had to go to those boring parties his parents always threw. Bruce thought it was unfair. If Bruce had to be board than at least Danny should be there to make it less boring.

Sometimes Danny had “Bad Days”. Whenever Danny had “Bad Days” he refused to play with Bruce and hid in his room all day. What was worst was that Alfred would spend all day trying to make Danny feel better, leaving Bruce with no one to play with as ‘Danny needed Boots more’ on his “Bad Days”.

Danny always apologized after he had one of his “Bad Days” but Bruce would still be mad. Why did Danny have to have “Bad Days” anyway. And why did he need so much attention, when Bruce had a bad day nobody showered him with attention like they did Danny.

It felt like Danny was taking everybody Bruce loved away from him. Bruce didn’t want to share attention with Danny. He was tired of dealing with Danny’s “Bad Days”. Sometimes he wished Danny would go away so things would be like they used too.

Bruce shouldn’t have told Danny all that.

Bruce regretted it the moment he said it but he was too mad to care. Alfred had missed his school play because Danny was having a “Bad Day” and needed to take care of him.

Unfortunately Danny listened to him.

…

Danny had left a note saying he was sorry for “being a burden” and a “bad big brother” and “putting them in danger” whatever that meant. Danny didn’t even blame Bruce in his letter. That made Bruce feel worse than he did before.

Bruce had to find Danny. He had to say he was sorry. He had to let Danny know that he was the best big brother. Bruce searched the grounds of the Manor.

Bruce was so busy searching he didn’t notice the ground opening up below him.

…

Bruce was scared. It was dark. There where screeching flying things all around him. He didn’t know where he was. He just wanted to apologize to Danny and now he was stuck in a cold dark cave with monsters.

Bruce couldn’t help but cry.

Then, suddenly, there was a glowing green light. The light felt odd. It felt like (I’mHereLittleBrother/YouAreSafe/FollowMe) if he followed the light he would be safe.

And he was. The light had lead him to Danny and Danny had led him out of the cave.

…

Danny never told Mom and Dad or even Alfred why he ran away. He told them he had a “Really Bad Day” and “needed to find someplace no one could find him”.

Bruce never told Mom and Dad or even Alfred about the cave or the green light Danny made. It was a brothers secret.

…

Bruce wasn’t sure he liked being a little brother but he was always glad he had a Big Brother like Danny

Alfred was coming back from his shopping when he noticed a boy in an alleyway. The poor chap was thin, dirty and scared. He was probably even injured. Alfred couldn't just leave him there. He just hoped Thomas and Martha didn't mind.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

When it rains, it pours

A/N: Enjoy a very short, very aimless drabble. The weather has done nothing here other than be garbage, so I'm projecting :)

Tags: Jason Todd x f!reader, Jason Todd x you, Jason Todd x Reader, Jason Todd, Red Hood, Bruce Wayne, Batman, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Batfam, Batfamily, DC Imagines, Red Hood x f!reader, Red Hood x you, Red Hood x Reader, The Joker, Death in the Family, Lazarus Pits

WARNINGS: none <3

Summary: It rains, you and Jason cuddle

Word Count: 590

Thunder booms over Gotham City. 

Torrential rain floods the streets, and the flash flood warnings streak across your phone screen. Your open bedroom window lets in a cold breeze, enough to coax you out of bed and close it. 

Wrapped in your comforter like a child in a blizzard, you realize you’d woke up alone. The other side of the bed was empty, and when you laid your hand on the pillow it was cool. You glanced at your bedside clock, where the red letters glowed ‘7:13’. If it weren’t for the wispy gray light of a stormy summer morning, Gotham would still be dark. 

You pad out of your bedroom, the smell of coffee wafting down the hall and into your grateful brain. Gotham Daily news buzzes on the TV but the sound of rain on the covered balcony drowns it out. Trekking that way, you find the door cracked open and the gritty smell of cigarettes combines with coffee. 

Jason is on the balcony, leaned back against the bricks. His head is tipped back as well, cigarette between his lips and eyes closed. You abandon the comforter on the couch, and nudge the door open enough to step out, sidling into Jason’s broad body. His arm winds around you automatically, fingers squeezing into the flesh of your hip. 

“Good morning.” You him, lazily reaching up to pull the cigarette from between his lips. The drag you take elicits a cough, you haven’t smoked since college, but the burn down your throat warms you. 

“G’morning.” He answers, tipping your chin up to press a kiss on your lips. You return it easily, snubbing the cigarette on his ashtray and curling tighter to his body. 

“It’s cold out here.” You observe. “And you hate the cold.”

Jason shrugs. “Was goin’ stir crazy inside.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you venture on a limb. “You having nightmares again?”

Jason, to his credit, doesn’t react. His eyes flicker to you, catching onto the worry. “Not normally. Just last night, the, uh, thunder. Got all in my head for some reason.”

It wasn’t really surprising. Jason only smoked when the Pit-thoughts were intrusive, or when he was suffering through the worst of his post-traumatic stress. 

You slip around to his front, arms tangling around his neck. Jason responds automatically to your comfort, tucking his face into your neck and breathing in. 

“I love you.” You murmur, scratching your nails against the short hair at his nape. 

“I know.” 

Jason walks you backwards into the apartment, and you giggle when it leads to you both toppling onto the couch. He grabs your discarded comforter and wraps it around you both, wiggling around until you’re both comfortable. 

The sound of rain continues, echoing through the balcony door. Lightning flashes and thunder rumbles in the distance, but Jason seems to ignore it, more focused on finding the TV remote. He curses aloud as it clatters to the floor. 

“Goddamn remote…” Jason flops childishly back into the cushions, and you pillow your head on his chest. “I guess I… really don’t need it though.” 

His nose nuzzles against your crown, and you curl your fingers into his shirt. Warmth bleeds into your clothes, and the smell of rain permeates the apartment. The natural urge to sleep through these storms wraps around you both, and you doze aimlessly as it pours. Each time you drift back to awareness, the rain is still falling. 

So you follow, Jason safe beside you as the rain pulls you both under.

- - - - - - - - -

As always, if you enjoy please like/reblog and check out my links for more :)

Masterlist | Send me ideas

[batisms]

unsure  what  to  respond,  he  leaves  it  off  on  that  note.  if  it’s  a  serious  situation  or  not.  “i  understand.  it’s  not  like  we  have  really  discussed  the  idea  all  that  often  or  been  very  passionate  about  it.”  with  their  line  of  work,  not  because  he’s  a  person  who  dislikes  children.  he  loves  them,  even  though  he  does  feel  he’d  be  awkward  and  never  live  up  to  the  way  his  father  raised  him.  scared  of  failure,  scared  of  what  that  would  mean...  what  a  risk  it  would  be  bringing  a  child  into  their  line  of  work,  into  their  dangerous  world...  that’s  the  part  he  can’t  get  past  of  wanting  one.  that’s  why  neither  of  them  have  planned  on  it.  &  of  course,  selina  has  her  own  personal  reasons.  “it  wouldn’t  of  ruined  it,  honey.”

“chuckling..?  what  chuckling.  it’s  normal  chuckling.  i’m  not––  nervous,  selina.”  he  didn’t  even  notice  the  way  he  was  laughing  was  any  different  from  how  he  usually  laughs.  is  he  really  making  it  that  noticeable?  now  he  has  a  tic  of  not  looking  at  her,  picking  up  some  more  boxes  of  feminine  things  he’s  never  held  or  seen  in  his  life  just  to  fidget  with  something.  somehow  he  makes  himself  even  more  nervous  when  eyes  fall  down  on  the  letters  of  the  box  he’s  holding,  realizing  there’s  a ...  something  called  a menstrual  cup ...  in  his  hands  and  quickly  but gently puts  that  back  before  he  looks  insane  holding  it.  "i see." nodding to her reasoning, feeling sad now though that he sees why she's like that. "and that's okay. i'll help you with whatever you need." he smiles softly, "those girls, however. i think... should've taught you to use the softest option first." the pads, he means. he's a man but even he can see it doesn't make sense to guide someone to use a stick for their first time. or however he should describe a tampon. he would've given her better advice if they had known each other at that time. “you’re  right.  i  didn’t  read  it  correctly.”  so  he’s  not  sure.  he  can  hack  into  computer  systems,  he  is  an  engineer,   can  create  things  from  scratch  no  one  else  can,   he  has  studied  biology,  technology,  mathematics,  physics,  mythology  &  geography  but  can’t  seem  to  understand  what  a  pregnancy  test  box  is  indicating.  

“i’ll  just  grab  the  other  one  to  go  with  it.”  the  clear  blue  brand  he  saw.  which  he  leans  down  to  get  then  turns  back  to  selina,  seeing  she’s  drowned  the  other  one  in  grocery  items.  does  she  have  a  nervous  tic  now?  makes  him  pause  for  a  second  in  questioning  before  proceeding  to  simply  sit  the  clear  blue  one  in  the  seat  part  of  the  cart.  right  in  front  of  them.  “it’ll  be  okay,  selina.”  bruce  reassures  her  once  he  realizes  she’s  taking  it  even  worse  than  him  &  he  needs  to  be  the  stronger  one  for  her,  placing  a  hand  on  the  back  of  her  leather  jacket.  “of  course  we  can,  lets  go  get  the  ingredients.”  he  tells  her  to  try  and  get  her  mind  off  it,  gently  nudging  her  to  start  walking  out  of  this  aisle  and  back  to  the  bakery  one.

 ❝   well,  i  hope  it  is  something  that  we  can  take  lightly  and  joke  about.  it  can’t  be  anything  serious.   ❞   jaw  clenching,  she  refuses  to  say  the  wrong  thing  aloud  and  jinx  it.  something  of  a  forced  smile  tugs  at  the  corners  of  selina’s  lips,  as  if  to  reassure  the  other  that  everything  will  be  okay,  but  doesn’t  linger  for  longer  than  a  second  or  so.  her  hand  squeezing  his  wrist  gently  one  last  time  before  letting  go,  slender  arms  folding  across  her  chest.   ❝   i  guess  i  just  —   ❞   she  pauses  and  shrugs,  the  leather  of  her  jacket  brushing  against  the  tear-shaped  emeralds  dangling  from  the  dainty  strings  of  her  earrings.   ❝   i  didn’t  even  want  to  consider  this  possibility,  i  think?   ❞   ignoring  the  problem  seemed  to  be  working  at  first,  holding  onto  the  idea  that  it  was  fine,  nothing  to  worry  about.  it  was  easier.  it  still  is,  as  a  huge  part  of  her  is  very  much  in  denial  even  now,  but  after  what  happened  at  breakfast  when  the  smell  of  scrambled  eggs  and  burning  bacon  wafted  through  the  air,  she’s  figured  she  needs  to  face  the  chaos,  digest  the  complexity  of  the  situation  that  she  and  bruce  might  have  found  themselves  in.   ❝   and  i  didn’t  really  know  how  to  bring  it  up  without,  you  know...  ruining  our  morning.   ❞   she  needed  some  time  to  muster  more  courage,  and  besides  she  didn’t  want  to  stress  him  out  first  thing  in  the  morning,  especially  when  it  was  such  a  happy  one  —  the  two  of  them  giggling  and  working  on  the  crossword  puzzle  from  the  gotham  gazette,  a  steaming  cup  of  coffee  and  a  glass  of  orange  juice  in  front  of  them.

❝   bruce…  is  this  some  nervous  tic  or  are  you  losing  your  mind,  honey?   ❞   she  sighs,  slightly  annoyed  with  all  the  chuckling  that  he’s  doing.  she  shouldn’t  be  lashing  out  on  him  when  he  has  every  right  to  be  as  anxious  as  she  is,  and  she  knows  it  but  she  still  can’t  help  herself.   ❝   sorry,  i  just  —  well,  i  was,  you  know?  intimidated  by  it  all  and  embarrassed,   ❞   she  confesses  in  a  much  calmer  manner,  trying  to  get  her  emotions  under  control  and  apologize,  but  she’s  never  been  good  at  that.   ❝   when  i  was  a  teenager  and  this  thing  happened  to  me  for  the  first  time,   ❞   walking  by,  following  the  other’s  lead  with  a  hint  of  relief,  her  shoulders  somewhat  more  relaxed  because  of  the  illusion  her  husband’s  creating  of  having  this  mission  under  control,  she  taps  a  box  of  tampax  with  her  fingertip  to  indicate  what  she’s  talking  about,   ❝   i  thought  i  was  dying.   i  only  got  lucky  because  i  shared  an  apartment  with  a  few  older  girls  at  the  time  and  they  explained  everything  to  me,  got  me  all  the  necessities  and  showed  me  how  to  use  them  and  stuff.   ❞   she  was  too  young  when  her  mom  passed  away.  they  never  had  the  chance  to  have  this  conversation,  or  any  other  serious  conversation  that  a  teenage  girl  should  have  with  her  mother  for  that  matter,  which  is  partially  why  she’s  so  lost  now.   ❝   maybe,  but  you’re  the  one  who  reads  all  kinds  of  books.  you’re  way  more  educated  and  stuff.  you  know  answers  to  most  questions.   ❞   it’s  unlike  her  to  look  at  him  for  guidance,  but  she’s  so  utterly  confused  and  scared  now  that  it  seems  like  her  only  option.

holding  the  pink  box  as  if  it  were  a  ticking  time  bomb,  she  turns  it  in  her  fingers  and  examines  it  with  uncertainty.  her  head  dips  as  she  focuses  her  gaze  on  the  instruction  written  on  the  back  in  bold,  white  letters,  dark  hair  falling  over her  cheekbones  like  a  curtain.  a  protective  layer  so  bruce  can’t  see  the  multitude  of  emotions  that  are  currently  dancing  across  her  catlike  features.  her  eyes  fill  up  with  tears,  but  she  quickly  blinks  them  away.  it’s  too  overwhelming,  too  terrifying.   ❝   99%  accuracy?  well,  that’s  a…  lot,  right?  i  think  —  it…  yeah,  looks  fine.  but  does  early  result  mean  it  can  be  taken  as  soon  as  you’ve  missed  your  period  or  that  the  results  pop  up  super  fast?   ❞   she  mumbles,  stumbling  over  her  words  as  she  puts  the  cursed  item  in  the  cart,  eager  to  get  her  hands  off  it.  she  buries  it  gently  beneath  a  box  of  cereal,  a  jar  of  peanut  butter  and  even  places  a  bunch  of  bananas  on  top  just  so  that  they  don’t  have  to  stare  at  it.  it’s  childish,  she  knows,  like  closing  your  eyes  and  thinking  that  one  action  alone  could  make  you  invisible,  but  it  seems  like  a  better  option  that  just  leaving  it  out  there  for  everyone  to  see.  a  shaky  sigh  passes  from  her  lips  when  she  finally  lifts  her  head  up,  fingers  anxiously  combing  her  dark  locks  behind  her  ears.  it  feels  too  vulnerable  to  have  her  features  on  full  display  again,  letting  the  other  see  the  combination  of  fear  and  regret  etched  into  her  skin.   ❝   okay,   ❞   she  breathes,  straightening  up  but  one  of  her  hands  remains,  clutching  the  side  of  the  cart  tightly  for  support.  it’s  getting  harder  and  harder  to  keep  herself  together,  and  so  she  tries  to  lightheartedly  suggest,   ❝   maybe  we  could  grab  some  chocolate?  make  brownies  when  we’re�� back  home?  or  chocolate  chip  cookies?   ❞   as  if  chocolate  could  somehow  magically  fix  everything.  it  sounds  silly  even  to  her  own  ears,  but  she  still  smiles  up  at  bruce  and  hopes  he  agrees.

[ragingbookdragon]

I’m Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 7

Batfamily x Batsis Story

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author’s Note: Anyone order a part seven? Cause I got a part seven for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne

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

Ever since the meeting that night, she’d gotten more letters from her family than she’d ever received in twenty-one years. Not that she decided to read them. The first line from Dick’s letter was, ”I never wanted you to leave because of me. If only I’d known…”. She couldn’t keep reading, and she wasn’t sure if it were from guilt, sadness, or anger, but there was something there that she didn’t want to face.

It didn’t stop there though. They kept coming even if she tacked a return to sender on it and sent it back. She’d even labeled one and written, ”Stop writing me.” but that didn’t stop them. Wally texted her every other night on top of the letters and she wanted to strangle him through the phone.

She knew though, that if she could keep holding out for three more months, she’d be home free. Wherever home was at this point. Every city she kept thinking about had some type of vigilante and there was nothing that didn’t; eventually she decided on Coast City. Somewhere warm and sunny, and as far from Gotham and Central as possible.

Of course that little voice in the back of her head just kept telling her to talk to them, but she was going to be as stubborn against it as possible—but time was dwindling, and so was her resolve.

***

“Ophelia, have you seen the extra bag of espresso beans? I can’t remember where you put them the other week.” She waited for a response. “Ophelia?” she turned and frowned. “Why did I accept the manager’s position when I can’t even round up my workers?”

She walked out of the storage and wiped her hands on the rag at her waist. “Ophelia?” A giggle sounded at the counter and when she walked out, her eyes went wide at the sight.

Jason was leaning against the counter with that smile he used to use on the models at the galas. He smiled at Ophelia. “Tell me, what do you make better, the cappuccinos or lattes?”

“Well, I make a —”

“She makes a mean ‘get in the back and find my espresso beans’,” she grunted and both of them jumped.

“Melisandre!” Ophelia stuttered, pale cheeks flushing pink. “I thought you were in the back.”

“I was. Think you can go find the coffee beans you put away?” She shot Ophelia a stare that screamed ‘scram’ and the girl nodded, hurrying to the storage room.

“Aww, why’d you run the cutie off, Melisandre?” Jason queried. “I was going to ask her out on—”

“Can I talk to you?” she interrupted, voice barely containing her seething rage. “Outside.”

Jason shrugged and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “Sure, but be careful, people might get suspicious.”

She grunted and walked outside, listening to him follow and when the door shut, she turned around and hissed, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just getting coffee.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, Jason. We both know that’s a load of bullshit.”

His eyes narrowed and he noted, “You’ve really gotten comfortable using foul language. You know that, (Y/N)?”

She glared at him. “What. Do. You. Want.”

“You won’t answer our letters,” he shrugged. “Didn’t have a lot of options to talk.”

“And showing up at my job is the better option?” she griped.

“It was that or your house, (Y/N). Take your pick but you can’t have both.”

“Well, maybe my silence is supposed to be the answer to those letters. Did you think about that?”

“I did,” he nodded. “But after the third letter being rejected, I decided to go big or go home.”

(Y/N) growled. “Go home.”

Jason smirked. “No.”

“I’m not fucking joking here, Jason. I don’t want you coming here. Ever.”

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn,” he retorted then stepped forward and grabbed her wrist. “You don’t wanna talk willingly, fine. I’ll make you talk to me. And if I have to show up here every day, I will.”

“No, you won’t.”

Jason cocked a brow and tightened his grip. “You wanna bet? Because I’m not Dick and I’m sure as hell not Bruce. I don’t have a day job to get to.” He smirked. “I can do this all day.”

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek and thought for a moment then sighed and yanked her arm away. “Fine. Come to my apartment after five. We’ll talk there.”

“Thank—”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she interrupted coldly. “I’m agreeing for one meeting and then you fuck off back to Gotham City and leave me the hell alone for good.” She spun on her heel and started back for the door when his voice reached her, tired and pained.

“Do you really hate all of us? Do you really hate us like you make yourself think you do?”

(Y/N)’s feet felt like lead and she stopped, gazing at the glass door. “I don’t know, Jason.”

“Then let me help.”

“You can find the apartment on your own. I know you’re good at looking for homes.” She slipped in the café door, leaving him standing there shocked and hurt.

***

Sure enough, a minute after five o’clock, her doorbell rang and she called, “It’s open.” The door opened and shut, and she looked up from the little kitchenette, watching the way Jason walked into her apartment, gazing around the empty living room.

“Shit, do you live in a home or a prison cell?”

(Y/N) grunted. “Nice quip. Come up with that by yourself?”

He wandered into the kitchen, leaning back against the counter as she prepared dinner. “What’re you making?”

“Chicken marsala,” she replied. “You’re here to talk. Start talking.”

“Are you going to be a bitch like you were the other night or can I ask about life in Central the last three years?” she shot him a glare, warning him, but he paid it no mind. “You going to school?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I go to Central City Community College. Take classes all week at different times.”

“What are you studying?” he asked.

“For now, general studies, but I’m minoring in political science.”

“Planning on a four year after you graduate?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Her hands stalled for a moment. “I don’t have the money for a big school to get a bachelors.” Shaking her head, she chopped up the vegetables. “Figure if I can get a job in the area, I can scrounge up enough to start the process though.”

“Might take years,” Jason noted, and she nodded.

“Yeah, hard work usually does.” (Y/N) glanced at him. “What’s Cassandra like?”

He blinked, evidently not expecting that, though he recovered and smiled. “She’s great honestly. Kicks ass better than anyone I know.”

“Even Batman?”

Jason huffed a laugh. “I’m sure she could wipe the floor with each of us if she decided to not hold back. Her mom’s Lady Shiva and her dad’s David Cain.”

“I don’t know who they are but I’m assuming from the tone that they’re not exactly the best parents in the world.”

“No…they’re not.” He agreed. “David didn’t teach Cass how to speak so she’s been mute all her life.”

“I’ve heard the few interviews she’s given,” (Y/N) replied. “She’s very eloquent when she does.”

“Shakespeare’s influence. And probably Emily Dickinson.” He smiled. “I leave her a lot of books to read so I can be her favorite.”

She snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like you.” Sliding the cast iron skillet into the oven, she sat at the crappy metal dining table, Jason taking the seat on the other side. (Y/N) scratched at the table. “Does Bruce like her?” she questioned lowly, and he nodded.

“Loves her like she’s his own.” He her with cautious eyes. “Just like he loves you.” Jason watched the emotion flash across her face, quick as lighting, a deep sorrow, then she was humming.

“Well, that’s good then.” She cleared her throat and looked at the clock. “How’ve you been? I hear a lot about Outlaws.”

Jason chuckled. “Yeah, that’s my band of renegades. Me, Roy Harper, and Koriand’r.”

“Remind me, those were Speedy and Starfire, right?”

He snorted. “Arsenal and Starfire. But yeah, close enough.”

(Y/N) got up and pulled two glasses from the cabinet before going to the refrigerator and getting the lemonade. She poured them both glasses and sat back down. “How’d you manage to wrangle two of the Titans into your posse?”

“Kori willingly tagged along, and Roy won’t leave me alone,” he griped, sipping his lemonade.

“Mmm…and how does Dick feel about you stealing two of his exes?”

Jason choked on his drink, spilling it on the table and down his chin. “That’s not—” he coughed. “That’s not what that is.”

“Uh huh, sure it’s not.”

“It isn’t,” he glowered.

“Riiiiiiight,” she drawled out with a grin, then took a sip and set her glass back down. “Figured you’d get Cass along with you. she seems like she’d be fit for Outlaws.”

He shook his head. “Nah, she’d be better off with Tim and his Young Justice weirdos.”

“She non-lethal?”

“Mhm.”

They dwindled into silence until the timer went off on the oven and she pulled the skillet out and set two plates on the table. “You’re gonna feed me?” he asked as she handed him a fork.

(Y/N) scoffed. “Duh. I’m a bitch, but I’m a bitch with manners.” She smiled sweetly. “But you have to leave afterwards.”

“Mmm…can I crash on your couch?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Figured I’d try anyways.”

They ate in silence, occasionally speaking about their lives the last three years, and when the food was all gone and the lemonade drunk, he sighed and reclined in the chair.

“What?” (Y/N) questioned and he shrugged.

“Dunno…I’d like to do this again soon.” His teal eyes found hers. “It’s been too long since we were together.”

“Tread carefully,” she murmured, looking at the wall and he sighed.

“Sis, talk to me,” he begged. “Even if it’s just to tell me how much you hate me, just talk to me.” She didn’t respond and he sighed again, standing from the table. “Thanks for dinner.”

“…I hate that you all put Gotham and every civilian before our family.” Jason stopped dead in his tracks and turned, gazing at her, though she didn’t tear her eyes from the wall. “I hate that the only time I felt like anyone paid any attention to me was when we were at galas and even then, the attention was just for show. It didn’t matter because all anyone wanted to do was get the hell out of the manor and go on patrol. It didn’t matter because I wasn’t like any of you. I wasn’t a part of the real family.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “I hate that I spent more nights sitting in a dark and silent manor than spending them with my family. I hate that I never had a normal family growing up where we’d go for ice-cream after school and attend school performances. I hate that I got stuck with a bunch of siblings hellbent on giving every piece of themselves to the world and they couldn’t take one night off to have a family night to save their lives. To at least pretend to be normal.”

(Y/N) finally took her eyes from the wall and he felt his heart tighten as the tears slipped down her cheeks and she breathed, “I hate that I was born Bruce Wayne’s biological daughter and I’d give anything and everything I have to be someone else’s daughter and sister.”

Jason’s mouth felt dry, and he didn’t have single thing to say to her and she whispered, “Is that what you wanted to hear, Jason?” she blinked. “Because that’s what I feel every morning I wake up.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and she cleared her throat, wiping her cheeks.

“Yeah well, I’m three years passed sorry.” (Y/N) nodded to the front door. “You should leave now.”

Jason nodded but his feet didn’t move. For a moment, he couldn’t move them, then he sucked in a breath and started edging back to the door. When he neared the door, he pulled it open and paused, looking back at her. “(Y/N)?” she didn’t answer but he said it anyway. “I love you. More than you’ve ever known.” He sighed and stepped out, closing it behind him.

(Y/N) buried her face in her hands and sobbed alone at the dinner table.

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

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