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rose-and-thorn-fanfics · 2 years

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THE DARK KNIGHT FANFIC: Joker x OC (Part 10)

Lottie Wayne stepped out of the shower, fresh and clean and ready to put on the dark red evening gown she had gotten the previous day. She put on a spray of Miss Dior perfume, and carefully wrapped her upper arm's cut in a sterile bandage. She had the speakers in her room blasting her favorite radio station. Britney Spear's song, "Criminal" came on, and she laughed at the coincidence. Unhooking the gown from one of the racks in her closet, she twirled around the room, making her way to the mirror. Lottie mouthed out the words to the song as she slipped the dress on over her skimpy lingerie. The gown was a classic yet revealing shape, and shimmered like dark garnets crushed on sensual velvet that cascaded to the floor. She struggled to fasten the metal clasp at her lower back.

Sighing, Lottie turned off the music, so Bruce could hear her calling him. "Bruce! Could you help me zip up my dress?" Lottie shouted.

Bruce opened the door of her bedroom and peeked in. He was dressed in a crisp black suit with a black tie and white dress shirt. Seeing his cousin struggling with the clasp, he strode across the room confidently. "Here, allow me."

Lottie stopped fidgeting, waiting as he closed the metal clasp and hook, making the dress cinched at the waist. He looked at the bandage on her arm, and his jaw tightened. "Are you sure you're feeling up to this party? After everything that... happened. There's no shame in spending the evening watching tv in your room. Nobody would expect you to show up after your traumatic encounter." Bruce said, deeply concerned.

"This will be good for me." Lottie said. "Seeing so many lovely people gathered will help cheer me up and get my mind off this morning. Plus," Lottie said playfully, "Tv shows are crap these days. Like where's the suspense? Where's the style?"

"You've had plenty suspense already," Bruce said, keeping his serious expression. "But I understand. Maybe you can meet someone nice at this party. The guests are all Gotham's elite."

"You're really trying to find me someone? I'm already in a romantic relationship with TWO people. Isn't that plenty? Plus, high society in Gotham means absolute bullshit." Lottie said pointedly.

Bruce relaxed a bit. "Well, suit yourself." He checked his watch. "Party starts in an hour. "I'm going to hang out with some friends, will you be ok here? Alfred should look after you."

"I'll be fine! Go have fun with your friends!" Lottie said. She could only assume he meant women.

"Alright." Bruce left, closing the door behind him. Lottie sighed. She hoped this party was everything people had been hyping it up to be. She smirked fondly, thinking of Maya hacking the security cameras just to watch. 'I love that bitch.'

Lottie left her room and waited, staring out the window at Gotham's night sky while guests began to file in. She played a game with herself, trying to figure out how much money each guest had based on their formal attire. Soon, the bright room was full of chattering people. She searched the crowd for familiar faces. Seeing Rachel, she approached the glamorous brunette, enjoying the looks she got from everyone. "Hey!" She said, greeting Miss Dawes.

Rachel smiled, setting her glass of champagne aside. "Lottie! What a nice surprise. You look lovely in your dress!"

Lottie spun around, so Rachel could see it from all sides, savoring the attention. Two tall men saw this and made their way across the room towards Lottie. "Hey, gorgeous." The blonde man said smugly. "I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting you before."

Lottie smiled innocently, masking her irritation. "Oh? Well I-"

-Helicopter whirring drowned out the rest of Lottie's words, as a black helicopter landed on the platform outside the glass doors. Stepping out of it were women on either side of Bruce Wayne, dressed in mini dresses. Lottie rolled her eyes, laughing to herself. 'What an entrance,' She thought. 'So typical of my cousin.'

Bruce entered the crowd, asking where Harvey Dent was. Upon seeing Dent, he made a speech, which to Lottie sounded more like him roasting Gotham's DA. When the speech was over, Bruce walked off with Rachel Dawes, and Lottie was reminded of the presence of the man next to her. 'Shit. Can't a girl look good without attracting some dickhead who only cares about money?'

The blonde man leaned in. "You truly truly look stunning. Would you happen to be Lottie Wayne, Bruce's cousin?"

Lottie inched away. "Yes. That's me. I just wish my boyfriend could be here to enjoy the night with me." She sighed. 'If this man doesn't beat it I'm going to have to resort to less subtle ways of discouraging him.' Lottie looked around for Bruce, but didn't see him amongst the crowd of guests.

"Well, I'm sorry you're boyfriend can't make-" the elevator doors opened suddenly, and there was a loud bang as a shot was fired. Lottie craned her neck and pushed through the crowd towards the sound. Her suspicions were confirmed, as the Joker with several armed men in clown masks entered the penthouse. 'Oh look, there he is.' Lottie thought, fingering the bandage on her arm. 'I guess my boyfriend did make it.' She looked to her left and noticed everyone in the crowd (including the blonde man) had retreated back several steps. She reluctantly followed them, weighing the consequences of getting seen looking comfortable with the situation at hand. She wouldn't want Bruce to assume anything incriminating.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we are tonight's entertainment!" The Joker said, walking across the room. He bit a rose off its stem, chewing vigorously. "I have one question, where is Harvey Dent." He emphasized the t in "Dent" like it was its own word. The Joker walked towards the crowd, asking certain people if they knew where Harvey was. Then he noticed Lottie, and approached her licking his lips. "What have we here-ah?" He grabbed Lottie, pulling her close and ripping the bandage off of her arm, revealing the J shaped wound. Lottie flashed him an urgent look, worried Bruce was watching. The Joker just laughed at her expression, dragging her out in front of the crowd. Lottie thought about faking distress, but realized Bruce must've left, as he was nowhere to be found in the crowd. "Hmm... Lottie-dottie, why don't you tell this group of, uh, lovely people that if they don't tell me where Harvey Dent is, I'll make an example of this man right here!"

Lottie watched him approach an old man in a tuxedo. The man replied, "We aren't intimidated by thugs like you!"

The Joker's expression changed suddenly, his eyes flashing with hatred. "You remind me of my father." He said, holding a knife to the man's face. "I hated my father!"

"Ok, stop!" Rachel Dawes stepped out from the crowd.

The Joker turned in the direction of her voice. "Well, hello beautiful." He strode across the marble floor towards Rachel. "You must be Harvey's squeeze. And you are beautiful." He said mockingly.

Lottie giggled, enjoying the spectacle. 'I hope he makes her regret interrogating me on the car ride about my relationship status.' She thought.

"You look nervous, is it the scars?" He said, grabbing Rachel's face and forcing her to look at him. "You wanna know how I got them?" The Joker asked. Rachel's eyes darted frantically, but nobody made a move to help her. The Joker began telling her a story, one that Lottie had heard him tell before, about having a beautiful wife, who liked to gamble and got her face carved. Lottie didn't know the real story behind his scars, but she enjoyed the many narratives he told that she could only assume weren't 100% true. "Now I'm always smiling!" The Joker finished, only to get kicked in the crotch by Rachel. He staggered back, laughing in between wheezes. "You've got a little fight in you. I like that."

Lottie noticed the dark figure of batman push through the crowd. She yelped, trying to warn the Joker, but nothing came out, her throat felling tight.

"Then you're going to love me!" Batman said in a deep voice. He aimed a blow at the Joker, and they began fighting.

#batman the dark knight #batman oc #batman fanfiction #heath ledger joker #joker #joker x oc #lottie wayne #ledger!joker fanfic #the dark knight fanfic #the dark knight #joker fanfic

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gothamundernightlight · 3 years

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MCU Hot Take/AU Theory - long post, be warned!

Just because Endgame is being picked on again, I thought I’d share my perspective because why not. Gifs aren’t mine, credit goes to the talented creators on this app.

Neither Natasha nor Clint should have died on Vormir…because neither of them should have been on Vormir.

I never really understood the reason for splitting up the teams the way they did in Endgame, and here’s why.

Aside from what has already been acknowledged on Vormir, the right people were all on the wrong missions. If you think about it, by sending Nebula to Morag, they had to address Thanos all over again, by sending Thor to Asgard, he was forced to address all of the trauma and grief he was suffering in the worst possible circumstances, Tony messed up and let Loki get away, and then Steve got recognized on the base dedicated to him (shocker!).

It’s at this point that I bring up a line from the first Avengers movie. “This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.” Natasha says this to Clint, and I really wish the writers had thought about that more going forward. Clint and Natasha were trained spies, and we almost never saw them act like it because the films were too busy making them keep up with the rest of the team superheroes. Why not just use their OG skill sets rather than give them new ones to provide additional character development? (Looking at you lullaby Nat 👀)

So here’s how I would’ve done it. Thor should’ve gone to New York with Scott, Tony, and Rhodey. Thor, who has had the most experience with Doctor Strange, whom they were expecting to find, would have done just as good a job at convincing the Sorcerer Supreme of handing over the Time Stone. Rhodey would not have looked out of place in that lobby so he wouldn’t have had to rush away in fear of being caught and then not been knocked over by an angry Hulk. Scott goes with him, and Tony gets the scepter, and flies away without being caught by Captain America.

Rocket and Clint should have gone to Morag. The two of them are very good at sneaking around and taking out people clandestinely, so they should’ve been getting the Power Stone. Also the dynamic between Clint and Rocket would have been absolute comedy.

Natasha and Nebula could’ve paired up for Asgard. Thanos could have noticed two Nebulas at once again, still leaving the big fight at the end, and as two women, they would’ve probably gotten along well enough to make the movie actually pass the Bechdel test.

Now back to Vormir. Steve and Bruce. Putting the Red Skull on Vormir is a choice I could respect, but then making it so Steve would never interact with him on screen was a mistake. The fact that a Nazi gets to live and Natasha didn’t will never sit right with me. So Natasha is never there. Steve interacts with the Red Skull, who then gets to taunt him with the emotional trauma of needing to sacrifice a life to save those he cares about, only for Bruce to call bullshit and sacrifice himself instead, and gaining something he’s hinted at wanting since the first Avengers movie.

But wait. Maybe he doesn’t have to die. The Hulk made Bruce somewhat immortal in canon, and in the sake of someone needing to die, they could’ve become one person and thus given Professor Hulk a far better origin. Steve also doesn’t go back in time and get a nostalgia kick that ruins his character development and most importantly, Natasha doesn’t have to die at the expense of a character who’s sole existence in the MCU has historically been propped up and motivated by his fellow female characters.

(I might actually write this as a fic if I ever get round to it, and these are just my thoughts, I’m sure many of you disagree, but I don’t give a shit)

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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I Saw It Coming When You Threw The First Punch

Batmom x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Violence

Author's Note: I honestly feel like I get my irritation from people out by writing stories where the characters punch people. I live vicariously through my characters. Enjoy! -Thorne

Getting the call that his wife had been taken into GCPD custody was not one that Bruce had ever expected to receive. Not in a million years. And yet, low and behold, Gordon had called sounding apologetic that she’d been detained after a physical altercation at the gala she’d hosted earlier that evening.

Which was absolutely baffling to him, because the only person more anal retentive about screwing up at a gala than Alfred, was his wife. So, something must’ve seriously set her off if she’d hauled off on somebody. And Gordon had made it quite clear that it was his wife that threw the first punch, though beyond that, he didn’t know what else had occurred because she’d invoked her rights to the company lawyer and to remain silent, simply staring at the wall while the other officers tried to get a story out of her—Bruce knew she wouldn’t crack. Other than him, his wife had a reserve that no man, alien, or god could break. He’d never say it, but he was envious of his wife’s willpower.

He arrived rather quickly with all four sons in tow, knowing that the sight of the entire family would probably help her chances of getting out and they waited patiently to be escorted to where she was being held.

When they arrived at the interrogation room, they saw her sitting there with crossed legs, hands placed palm down on the table. Her eyes were closed in what Bruce recognized as her deep meditative state; the one she used to fight off telepathic control from enemies—she was probably recounting what happened that night.

“What are the charges?” he asked Gordon and the older man sighed.

“Simple battery and public disturbance.”

Bruce hummed lowly in his throat and gazed at his wife. “How do you see this playing out for her?”

“If the woman she keelhauled doesn’t press charges, there’s possibility of probation with community service.”

He had to play naïve. “And if she does?”

Gordon met his gaze. “Then you’re looking at your wife going into lockup for a year.”

Bruce let out a sigh. “I’ll call our lawyer then.”

“I’ll give you and your wife some privacy,” he replied, hitting a button on the keypad beside the door, and the glass went dark while the glowing red button recording the room turned off.

“Thank you, Gordon,” he said, and the detective waved as he walked off, closing the door to the interrogation room behind him. Bruce looked at his sons. “Let’s go see what set your mom off tonight.”

***

The door to the room opened but she didn’t open her eyes, still under the cold water in her retreat.

“(Y/N),” someone murmured and though the voice was familiar, she didn’t come to yet.

“(Y/N),” they repeated a bit firmer. “Come back up.”

Ever so slowly, she allowed her mind to come back from the deep waters and she opened her eyes, smiling at her husband and sons.

“Good evening family.” Damian immediately sprinted to her and buried his face in her neck, and she laughed, running a hand through his short dark hair. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“You are in trouble,” he murmured and pulled away to look into her eyes. “We will do whatever you need, Umi.”

(Y/N) snorted. “Don’t worry about me baby. Knowing Little Miss Martha May, she’s not going to press charges over our spat.”

“I think simple battery is bit more than a spat, mom,” Dick worried, brows furrowing in concern. “What did you two even start fighting about?”

Her eyes darted to the glass then to Bruce and he said, “Gordon turned off the cameras.”

“Mom,” Tim started, and she looked at him; he held up his phone screen. “I just assured that you’re protected here.”

She nodded and let out a sigh. “I knew I should’ve just walked away but I couldn’t help it. She just set me off like a match to gunpowder.”

“What’d you guys even duke it out over,” Jason questioned, and she sighed again, recounting the night.

***

“You’ve thrown another wonderful party, Miss Wayne,” Lucius murmured, handing her a champagne glass.

She grinned widely, thanking him. “Thank you, Lucius, I try.”

“Clan couldn’t come tonight?”

“You’ve always been perceptive about us, haven’t you?”

“To use your words, I try,” he laughed, and she nodded.

“Patrol started early tonight,” she said inconspicuously, eyes shifting around to glance at who was walking near them. “Besides, most of them only come to these to appease the crowd.”

“Ah, yes, I forgot that you’re the only one who actually enjoys these.”

“Only when Bruce and the kids are here,” she corrected. “It’s easier to bullshit when they’re here to pick up the slack.”

He barked a laugh and she chuckled in return when someone walked up to them. She turned and immediately grimaced at the old classmate of hers.

“(Y/N), such a beautiful party you’ve thrown tonight,” the woman greeted, though it was laced with cheerful fakeness.

She plastered a smile on her face. “Good evening, Marianne. I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

“Oh, you know me, I’m always up for a party.” Her eyes drifted around. “Where is your husband? I wanted to thank him for the gift basket he sent after my operation.” Marianne gave her a sarcastic smile. “Isn’t it rather off for a host to avoid his own party?”

Note to self, yell at Bruce for sending her a gift.

“He had to work late tonight. So did the boys.” (Y/N) matched her smile. “I’m sure they’d be delighted to know that you thought of them though.”

Something shifted in Marianne’s eyes. “Oh yes, the children you have.” She leaned in close and murmured, “You know I’ve been hearing some rather negative rumors about yours and Bruce’s decision to adopt orphans rather than have some of your own.”

(Y/N) blinked, not sure if she should be shocked or unimpressed. “Really? Care to enlighten me?”

Marianne waved a hand. “The major one is that you simply took pity on the strays because you were barren.” She felt like she’d been slapped across the face and her jaw dropped as she gaped at the woman.

Apparently, that was all the ammunition that Marianne needed because she offered a sympathetic smile an placed a hand on (Y/N)’s arm. “Oh, you poor dear.” She patted her arm again. “You should’ve come to me instead of adopting orphans. I would’ve been happy to be a surrogate for you.”

(Y/N) shrugged the hand off her arm and reached up, pulling the silver teardrop earrings from her ears. “Yeah, those orphans aren’t mine, not biologically.”

She pulled off her diamond wedding rings and handed them and the earrings over to Lucius who took them and stepped back.

“But you know what they are?” she glowered at Marianne and seethed, “They’re my sons.”

The next thing anyone knew, the two women were rolling on the floor, their hostess throwing punches that seemed to make everyone wince when they connected to the woman’s face.

***

“And all I remember was being escorted down here,” she finalized, eyes drifting to Bruce’s.

He simply stared at her for a moment before he let out a heavy sigh and put his face in his hands. “I’m proud that you defended our family, but at the same time, I’m disappointed that you let Marianne set you off.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, so you’re taking her side?”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Bruce shot back. “If she decides to press charges, you’re going to be in lockup for a year.”

“She’s not.”

“You don’t know that, (Y/N).”

“No, I do,” she blinked and leaned forward. “If Marianne doesn’t want me to ruin her image with shit she did when she was a teenager, she’ll keep her mouth shut and take the blame for this.”

“What’d she do, Ma?” Jason questioned curiously and she turned her attention to him.

“Enough that’ll disgrace her image amongst every elite this side of the globe if she tries me anymore.”

Before anyone could say anything, the door opened and they turned, seeing Gordon walking in. “Good evening, Miss Wayne,” he greeted, and she smiled.

“Good evening, Jim. How’s your night so far?”

He chuckled. “Not too bad. I got to detain my favorite socialite and listen to all my officers speculate what she did.”

(Y/N) lifted her hands palm up beside her shoulders. “I live to please, Jim, you know that.”

“I do.” He walked over and handed her a few papers. “When asked if she wanted to press charges, Marianne Walters declined. She instead gave a rather detailed statement that she instigated the fight and threw the first punch.” He stared at the busted lip she had. “Does that match what happened?”

She quickly looked over the papers and nodded. “Yes, that’s true.”

Gordon sighed. “Do you wish to press charges?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No,” she smiled. “There’s no reason to make a fuss about this.”

“…Miss Wayne, you and Miss Walters are all over the news.”

She shrugged. “And people have very short memories. They’ll forget about this.” She handed back the papers. “Send this to my lawyer and she’ll handle it with the prosecutors.”

“You think they won’t press charges despite Walters?” Gordon asked and she nodded.

“Oh, they won’t,” she said then looked at the clock. “Am I free to leave? It’s been a long night.”

Gordon let out a heavy sigh and nodded. “Yes Miss Wayne, you’re free to leave now.”

(Y/N) rose. “Wonderful.” She looked at her sons. “Boys, let’s go.”

They followed her and Bruce stood from the table, standing beside Gordon. “Thank you, Jim.”

Gordon grunted. “I know (Y/N) threw the first punch.”

“You do?”

“Of course, I do.” He huffed. “And I don’t blame her either.” He watched (Y/N) laugh at something Dick said while the others groaned around him. “You’ve got a good woman, Bruce. Good wife. Even better mother.”

Bruce looked at his wife and let an easy smile cross his lips as she pulled them all into hugs. “Yeah…yeah, I do, don’t I.”

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stxleslyds · 3 years

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LET’S TALK ABOUT BATMAN AND ROBIN #20 (2011).

And the issues that followed that story (Batman and Robin vol.2 #34-37)

DC and the fandom really let Bruce get away with what he did to Jason in that issue. DC because they had Jason go back to Bruce a few issues later to finish their story and the fandom because this moment in comics isn’t talked about enough which has led people to believe that the the concept of “batfamily” as it is in fandom belongs in canon.

This type of moments in stories should make a bigger impact on comic relationships and fandom’s perception of said relationships. From where I am standing Bruce’s actions in that issue are right on the edge of unforgivable and they could have used them as a key moment for Jason to finally move on from all Bat related bullshit without thinking that he had to stay and finish the job (of getting Damian back).

Making Jason move on so easily from that situation really makes it look like if Batman is physically, emotionally, or mentally abusive to his children then it’s not that much of a big deal, it’s just a subplot to a bigger story.

And that is something that happens repeatedly in current comics and it’s disgusting.

Anyway, now that I am done with my rambling, I will start talking about the issues that I mentioned.

Batman and Robin (2011) #20 – Written by Peter Tomasi.

For a little context, this issue is set after Damian’s death and Bruce is looking for ways to resurrect him.

And in this particular issue of this run, Batman recruits Jason Todd between the events of RHatO vol. 1 #18 and #19, that’s why in the cover of the issue the name of the run is changed to ‘Batman and Red Hood’.

A bit more context is that in issue #18 Jason finally recovers from the injuries that he got when the trap that Joker had put on his helmet detonated, and Jason was also having an existential crisis after the Joker convinced him that he was always present in Jason’s life and that he shaped the man that Jason had become (If you want to read more about that and the times' Joker has played with Jason’s mind, I have this post in which I talk all about that).

Good, now I can finally talk about this hellish issue.

Bruce asks for Jason’s help because he wants to take down some marksmen and women that are based in Ethiopia that might or might not have been the same people who took on the job of looking for Damian when his mother had put a bounty on his head.

One would imagine that Bruce calling Jason for this job means that he would let Jason kill some people, bounty-hunters that are money-driven enough to kill children seem to be the kind of people Jason would have in his black list, but Jason is smart and he knows that Batman won’t let him kill so he asks why is Bruce asking him of all people to join him on this mission, Batman replies with “Because I am seeing red”.

If you, like me, don’t understand why Batman would ask the Red Hood to stop him from killing some very shady people then don’t worry, Batman was lying, he didn’t ask Jason to go with him to beat some bounty-hunters, he has ulterior motives.

I will give it to Tomasi, he wrote Jason as the smart cookie that he is because Jason doesn’t stop picking up on the weird technicalities of the mission, and I will go as far as to say that Jason never truly believed that Bruce was being honest about the true nature of their mission. Smart Chonky, I miss you and love you.

Once they get to Ethiopia Bruce starts setting the rules of engagement (don’t shoot to kill, only hands, knees, and elbows), and off they go. Bruce even makes a comment about how it “feels like old times” and Jason is all happy and warm that Bruce invited him to beat some baddies and he also brings up the fact that Bruce stayed by his side while he was recovering from his injuries, very lovely stuff that will soon mean nothing (and that should have meant nothing because Bruce and his lies had resulted in Joker knowing all of their secret identities and messing with all of them in horrible ways, but the Bat can get away with that too).

Here is part of Bruce’s speech about trust and his lies, “You don’t ever need to thank me, Red Hood, for a family always looks out for each other” to which Jason says, “Yeah but a family also needs to earn each other’s trust” and Bruce continues his speech with, “comes a time when having to keep earning someone’s trust stops and you hope the people you’ve put your faith in will always have your back no matter what”.

Batman, everyone, master detective and master manipulator.

As Batman is talking manipulating Jason he beats every bounty hunter almost effortlessly because he had brought some bat-gadgets that were going to make the fight really easy. And as the fight is over in what looks like a minute Batman and Red Hood get on the Batmobile ready to leave Ethiopia… or not.

Jason is very aware that Batman didn’t need him for that so-called mission so he starts to ask more and more firmly about the real reason as to why Batman brought him to this place.

Batman brought Jason back to Ethiopia, but most importantly back to the Magdala Valley because he wants to see if Jason going back to the place where he died will make him remember how he was resurrected.

Yep, talk about having messed-up parents. Bruce is positively the worst at this moment, but it gets worse.

Jason is rightfully pissed off, he says, “You lied to me, this wasn’t about taking down those mercenaries. You wanted to bring me here, to the worst place in the world and here I was starting to believe all your crap about trust and faith...”

To which Bruce says, “I thought bringing you here could jog your memory, maybe retrieve a detail buried deep in your subconscious that could help piece together how you came back to life so I…”

And my man Jason really continues his thought process only to later tell him how much of a piece of shit he truly is (I love this Chonky, go Jason show this man that he ain’t shit).

“…could apply it to getting Damian back. Yeah, I get it. Did it ever occur to you I might like keeping whatever the hell happened to me buried deep? If you cared about me, you wouldn’t want me to dredge up the one thing I’ve been trying to forget. I don’t want to remember the most horrific day of my life all right? You may like wallowing in your tragedies, Bruce, but I’m done looking back!”

Jason, bravo, tell him exactly how you feel! Any sort of good human being would surely accept that they crossed a massive line and that they should ask for forgiveness next, right?... Right?

No. And that’s because Bruce is a horrible human being, I am sorry but it had to be said, this man has zero empathy for Jason and he proves it when he says the following.

“If you cared about me and what I’ve lost, you’d want to dredge this up! Don’t you see, there is a chance you can help me erase one of the worst days of MY life, Jason! You can give me the greatest gift of all and help me figure out how to bring my son back”

Fuck Bruce Wayne. This man has no right whatsoever to talk this way to Jason, no matter how you see this situation, the whole thing is fucked up. Bruce puts his needs above Jason’s feelings and he diminishes Jason’s position as his son because Bruce only refers to Damian as his son. This whole thing is incredibly nasty.

Here we should have had the point of no return for Jason and Bruce’s relationship, although if you are like me, you might think that the point of no return happened way back in Batman (1940) #650 when Bruce decided that saving the Joker by throwing a batarang at Jason’s neck (how did he know that Jason would survive that, I have no idea, maybe Bruce can see the future) was a better option compared to Jason finally killing the clown. Because that’s the thing, Jason was going to kill the clown but Bruce didn’t let him because he didn’t want more blood in Jason’s hands, I laugh until this day about how stupid Bruce’s thinking was there.

Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that Jason should have said bye-bye to Batman and all related Batman crap from this moment on. It would have been perfect but DC can’t help themselves and Lobdell’s self-insert-Jason really wants to be part of this amazing family so, no luck for Jason or us.

If you have read my latest post about Joker getting under Jason’s skin or read issue #18 of RHatO you know the context of what Jason says next.

“Yeah, and how about me? How about the gift of not knowing that the Joker manipulated my entire life, huh? The clown tainted everything, the good, the bad, hell my life’s even been tainted by you!”

Yup, Jason was going through it, and he had talked about these feelings with Bruce previously in issue #17 of RHatO, he had asked Bruce if he thought that Joker had created him and Bruce said, “No Jason, He didn’t make you, I never did either. You made you” and Jason was extremely thankful for that. And now, here we are, these feelings are being brought up again but in a very different situation.

Them arguing becomes a physical fight and after Jason asks Bruce “why are you making me stand in the exact same spot he beat me to death?” He replies this “Because I want to watch Damian grow up damn it! Damian earned that right! And I want to give it to him!”

This conversation only gets worse and Bruce’s most horrible side comes to light, like, I understand that Bruce wants Damian to be alive and all that but he is saying all the wrong stuff to Jason. I feel like as the reader I am being told that Bruce values Damian more than he ever did Jason because he is willing to put Jason through his own personal hell for Damian but refuses to see the reasons as to why Jason doesn’t want to do it. Bruce is being incredibly selfish and he is not caring enough about Jason to notice that he is hurting him. He even doesn’t notice after Jason says, “I was ready to stand by your side and you’ve thrown it all away!”

It is incredibly sad but it's also a bit of a look into what Bruce will do to Dick in Nightwing vol. 3 #30. It has the exact same vibe in both issues, Bruce going completely berserk on his children and telling them that he “trained them to be better”.

This issue ends with Jason punching Bruce several times and Bruce taunting Jason by telling him that he might as well continue because he is “still standing”. The levels of manipulation that Bruce had going on here weren’t as high as the ones in Nightwing #30 but he sure was a little bitch every step of the way.

Jason, being smart, doesn’t take the bait and tells Bruce that he is leaving and he is taking the car.

Wouldn’t this have been an amazing moment for Jason to finally rid himself of all Batman-related events and bullshit? How did DC miss this amazing opportunity to make Jason Todd/Red Hood a character that can stand on his own and with his own rules?

The potential that was wasted when they made Jason go back to Bruce and help him get Damian back in issues 33 to 37 of this same run is immeasurable. And just like Joker being able to get under Jason’s skin, him going back to Bruce and the “family” for plot purposes harmed Jason’s characterization greatly.

Batman and Robin (2011) #34-37 – Written by Peter Tomasi.

Whatever kind of respect I held for Tomasi because of the way he wrote Jason in #20 is now gone. Issues 34 to 37 have Jason fighting alongside Batman and him being all buddy-buddy with him.

Now, let me make something clear, Bruce wanting to bring Damian back to life/from Apokolips is absolutely fine with me, a father fighting for his son’s life can always make a good story, the thing is that at this point in time not only the events of Batman and Robin #20 have happened but so have the events of Nightwing #30.

So, Bruce going through all of this for one of his kids (that keeps being brought up as if he were his only son) after he emotionally manipulated Jason and Dick makes this story very bitter.

But I understand what DC is doing, you know? Here is how they manage to make this story as bitter-sweet as possible. In issue 34 of this run, Dick shows up in his Spyral get-up and offers his help in getting Damian back, because the kid meant a lot to him but Bruce can’t have Dick helping him out along with Barbara and Tim because Bruce has everyone convinced that Dick is dead. So, DC was like “here is this big brain idea, let’s have Jason, Barbara, and Tim helping Bruce get Damian back”. And that’s exactly what they did.

They dragged Jason back to Batman-related crap after he was manipulated, insulted, and punched by the man that is supposed to be his father. And this issue is also happening after Jason had such an immense existential crisis that he decided to have his memory wiped so he could cleanse himself on any doubt that the Joker had manipulated his free will.

How on earth are we supposed to believe that Jason is dumb enough to go back to Batman after all that? Does DC and its writers read their own material? Do they check if the characters that they are planning on using have contradicting narratives?

It’s so messy, the opportunity that DC, Tynion, Tomasi, and Lobdell got to make Jason his own man and his own character was completely wasted, just for a Batman event!

And it isn’t like Jason’s participation in getting Damian back was crucial, it really wasn’t, if I am planning on taking a team of heroes to Apokolips for a rescue mission, Jason, Barbara and Tim wouldn’t be my first options. Jason was put in that book only so they could have someone making snarky comments and for Jason to be like “Bruce we are family, we will always have each other’s backs” I mean, who is Jason supposed to be, Dom Toretto?

Here are some of the moments that seemed the most out of touch for Jason in these issues.

Batman and Robin #34

In issue 34 Bruce gives a long speech about him not wanting to hide things anymore from them (like he did during the events of Death of the Family) and that he wants a new start because they “have been broken long enough” so from that moment forward “good or bad, the truth rules”.

The audacity of this man, my god, how dense can Bruce be? “we’ve been broken long enough”? YOU have broken your relationship with these people time and time again! As you are standing there talking about the truth you are hiding the fact that Dick is alive and well somewhere far away because YOU sent him on a very dangerous mission after he died and you manipulated him.

THE AUDACITY OF THIS PIECE OF SHIT! Am I becoming an anti-Batman blog? I think I am and quite honestly, I am having the time of my life. Fuck this guy.

But back to the issue, after Bruce says that the truth is all that goes now, Barbara basically says that she doesn’t believe him, that all it takes for Bruce to go back to lying is “another situation that justifies you going dark on us in more ways than one” HA! You go, girl! But he is already hiding something from all of you.

Jason being himself supplies a situation like the ones where Batman lies to them in order to get them to work for him, he says, “or bringing me to Magdala Valley on a sightseeing trip to reminisce about the good old days of crowbars and explosions”, ah yes, sure, Bruce did all that back in issue 20 and now it is brought up as an afterthought… how wonderful.

Bruce, of course, lies to their faces when he says “I promise that nothing gets held back. We speak our mind no matter what the cost” to which Jason says “Unconditional truth now and forever, Bruce, otherwise this is all a load of crap”.

AND IT IS! IT IS ALL A LOAD OF CRAP CHONKY! RUN, RUN LIKE THE WIND!

Man, what a mess, poor Dick. He had to wait there and watch his father lie his ass off. And he really wanted to help Bruce get Damian back. Even after Bruce told Dick (as well as Barbara, Tim, and Jason) that he had to go to Apokolips alone Dick still helped Bruce in other ways, Dick really is the MVP, what a man, I love him so much!

(I really needed to show my love for Dick right then and there, sometimes you just have to do it. Dick Grayson is, after all, the greatest comic character to have ever been created).

Batman and Robin #36

First of all, seeing Jason and Barbara wearing the Robin symbol really makes me laugh. It’s just weird to see Barbara wear it, it almost feels like it’s something that shouldn’t have happened and in Jason’s case, well, the last time he wore it he died and it’s kinda funny to see beefy and tall Red Hood wearing a Robin symbol, it’s just funny not a critique.

What I am going to critique from this issue is that after they (Jason, Barbara, and Tim) go to Apokolips and find Bruce they say, “You’re here in this hellish place for your son, Bruce” and Jason continues that with, “And we’re here for you”.

Ah, the irony. Of all people, having Jason say that to Bruce is wild. This man has done nothing for Jason and here Jason is, in Apokolips, of all places, to help a man that does not deserve it. This is proof that Jason is a good man but its also proof that he is an idiot in the New 52, I am sorry but come on, writing Jason this way after what Bruce did to him in issue 20 seems like DC is confirming the fact that even though Batman does the most horrible stuff to his kids, he can still get away with it because his kids still love him all the same.

I understand, loving your parents when they are flawed but Bruce had been written at this time like an abusive father, and he was written like that towards Jason and Dick, so it is not a good look. Bruce saying that he promises that he won’t do it anymore isn’t enough DC, make the man pay for being that way, make his kids stay away from him for a while (or forever).

And here is the other thing, I say that Bruce is Jason and Dick’s father but DC doesn’t, they only acknowledge Damian as Bruce’s son and they do it because the New 52 timeline is non-existent. After all, they deleted a lot of history from these characters, I think it’s fair to assume that Bruce never adopted Dick or Jason and that both of them were Robin for a very short time. What I am trying to say with this is that not only is Bruce getting away with being abusive but he is also getting away with being an abusive father. Because Bruce is their father, at least I see it that way, he isn’t just his friend/mentor/tutor he is their father. He used to be before New 52 and that’s not something that we as the readers are ready or want to let go of.

All in all, Jason didn’t do much in these issues thus confirming (to me, at least) that the only reason he was invited to the party was because they couldn’t use Dick. And that’s an insult to Jason’s character, it would have been better if Jason didn’t appear in this story and he actually had the chance to do something else, like go back to being the proper Red Hood, an anti-hero that does what Batman won’t do for Gotham and its people.

#jason todd #red hood #batman and robin #batman #robin #dc comics #batman and red hood #dick grayson #nightwing

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stanknotstark · 3 years

Text

Toxic + Toxic = Healthy

Summary: You and Loki break up. Both of you deal with it uncharacteristically. Loki sleeps with girls that look like you and you mess around with Thor in retaliation. It’s all very healthy stuff here.

You and Loki had had an unceremonious falling out a couple weeks ago and called it quits on the relationship you had built. You had been dating for 6 months but Loki had started an argument about how you didn’t love him, that you lie to him, that you probably sleep with men behind his back. Everything was false, of course, you’d never do that to Loki and it hurt that he even thought that. So, you told him that you need some time to think and Loki having to have the last word said maybe breaking up is the best option. You agreed and while you saw the shock in Loki’s eyes at your agreement you were too pissed to care and left.

What makes it awkward is that you both live in Stark’s tower and still have to interact with each other. What makes it even more awkward is that the rest of the Avengers walk on egg shells every time they’re in the same room as the both of you.

You’re taking it like a champ, you feel. You only cry about it when you go to sleep at night, in the privacy of your own room. Sometimes when you spar with your teammates you might hit a bit harder than necessary. You even manage to speak with Loki civilly. On the outside it would appear that you’re completely fine with the break up, but on the inside and behind closed doors you’re literally falling apart. You’re sure the only person who realizes this is Natasha because that woman sees everything.

You almost lose your composure the first time you see Loki bring a girl back to the tower. It’s only been three weeks and he’s already whoring around. You’re livid, he claims to love you then gets over you in three weeks? Bullshit.

What you fail to realize at first is that the girl he brings to the tower kind of looks like you. It isn’t until you’re in the kitchen eating breakfast that you realize this. She comes in, only wearing one of Loki’s too large t-shirts and enjoys a bowl of cereal with you.

You don’t get mad at the girl, you’re mad of course, but she’s not the problem. She doesn’t know what happened between you and Loki. She has no idea you even dated Loki. So you talk with her like you would any stranger. With a happy smile, a joyful voice, and morbid curiosity about having a new person in the tower.

“It’s really cool to see the tower from the inside. I always look up and imagine what you guys live like.” The girl says with a smile at you.

You smile back, “It’s pretty laid back, honestly. Nothing too exciting happens around here.”

“That’s what it looks like,” The girl laughs a light laugh, “I doubt I’ll ever come back, Loki said it was a one time thing, but I’m happy I got the chance anyways.”

You squint at the girl when she’s not looking at you because she’s eating her cereal and question everything. Loki doesn’t do one night stands. That’s what the god had told you the first time you both fell into bed together. He had explicitly stated. “If I bed you, I mean to have you forever, I do not play games when it comes to courting.”

You hum at the girl and truly look at her. Her hair is cut at about your length and although the color is a tiny bit off it’s still in the same general shade as yours. Her features are vastly different from yours but her body shape is almost exactly like yours too.

At this conclusion you’ve thought of three things. One, Loki is trying to make you jealous. Two, Loki is showing there are many other girls just like you he can use. Three, Loki is still hung up on you and has really bad coping skills.

You bring you mug up coffee to your lips as you ponder over your conclusion and raise your eyes when Natasha walks into the kitchen. She raises her brows at the girl, with a glance to you, who introduces herself as Nat reaches in the fridge and pulls a carton of eggs out.

As Natasha waits for her pan to heat up so she may cook her eggs she questions the girl.

“What is it you do?”

“Oh, I’m an accountant for a small company here in-” The girl stops and looks at you, concerned when you start choking on your coffee, “-are you ok?” She asks, you nod still choking a little but get it under control.

“I used to be an accountant, I started out with a small company based in Colorado then moved here when Stark offered me a better job.” You tell her.

“Oh! I just started my job seeing how I just graduated, but it’s my dream to work for someone as significant as Tony Stark.”

You smile and nod, “I’ll put in a good word for you, see if we can get you a promotion you can’t deny.” You say, glancing at Nat who is smirking devilishly at you. You truly do want the best for this girl but at the same time you’d like to see Loki squirm with his one night stand working in the same tower he resides in.

The next time it happens is two days later. This time you’re in the common area with Bruce, teaching him how to play Minecraft at night when the elevator dings. You both look up and see Loki ravishing some poor girl on the elevator’s wall. They let out small moans and gasps. Then Loki turns and looks out the elevator to see you and Bruce staring at them, game completely forgotten.

You’re sure Bruce is wide eyed and blushing like crazy, you can’t see his face seeing as he’s turned towards the elevator. However, you control your face and look bored with a raised brow at Loki.

“My apologies, I thought I had pressed my floor.” Loki says.

The girl he was just basically eating up giggles and pokes her head around his body to look at you two.

“We’re really sorry!”

They both pull from each other but don’t truly stop touching, they’re just in a presentable position now. Loki pushes his correct floor number and you watch as they disappear in the elevator.

When Bruce looks at you he’s not blushing or wide eyed. He actually looks a bit green in the face.

“You ok?” You ask, confused.

“It’s wrong of him to do that to you. He’s smart, has to have his floor memorized. The only way he’d hit this floor was because he knows you’re here.” Bruce says with a sigh, the green hue in his face receding.

You chuckle, nodding to the controller in Bruces hand so he can continue harvesting his wheat.

“It’s ok, he’s always been really bad when it comes to coping skills.”

Bruce watches the TV as he harvests wheat but gives you a glance with a raised brow.

“The women he’s bringing to the building look like me. Or at least the first one did for sure, I wasn’t really looking at this one. The last one even had the same job I used to have.”

Bruce frowns at the TV then realization dawns on his face. “Now that you mention it, this girl did have the same characteristics as you...”

You hum with a small smile. “Loki is going to be Loki, I’m just trying my best to get over him and move on.”

You watch as Bruce pauses the game and looks at you with an evil grin. You’re a little shocked because you’ve never seen the doctor show any emotions like this. His eyes are far away in thought, but he smirks with malicious intent.

“What if you dated one of us? Not really, but in public you would kiss and hug, hold hands do all the couple stuff in front of Loki?” Bruce asks.

Your face must be shocked because Bruce chuckles.

Breaking from your shock you smirk back at the doctor. “And just who would I date?”

Bruce thinks for a second, “Well Loki....” Then you see a sinister look come over his face. “Thor.”

You gasp and slap Bruce on the shoulder, “That’s evil, Bruce!”

Bruce chuckles and shrugs his shoulders with a now timid look on his face.

“I live with a bunch of people that have perfected getting under each others skin, I’ve picked up on how to do it too.”

“I’ll talk with Thor later. Tell him of your nefarious plan, it’s genius!” You say relishing in the fact that you’ll be able to break Loki’s heart more, the god deserves it you justify.

You talk with Thor and kickoff the plan right away. The next morning, Loki actually comes in and has breakfast with his one night stand across from you at the table as you enjoy staring at the newspaper, waiting on Thor to come in. They’re being sickly cute, feeding each other, giggling, and just overall making you want to throw up. You know Loki is truly nothing like this, he’s just putting on a show for you.

When Thor walks in he gives a big good morning, throwing you a smirk Loki misses because he’s too busy kissing ass to his girl. Thor makes coffee for you and brings it over to you. When he sets it in front of you he says, “Just how you like it!”

Then Thor leans down and takes your lips into his. Thor really puts on a show and brings a hand up to caress at your jaw as he delves into your mouth with his tongue. When he pulls away you’re breathless and look up at him with adoration. Both the gods really know how to use their mouths...and tongues for that matter.

You lick your lips and look at the girl Loki brought home when she makes a remark.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones who got lucky!” She giggles.

You smile at her, glance at Loki who is glaring daggers into you, then look back up to Thor as you raise your coffee mug to him and say, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Thor smiles down at you and offers to make you breakfast but you decline saying you need to help Tony with something. Before you leave the room Thor pulls you into another kiss, lets you go, and slaps your ass as you walk away. You give a small yelp and giggle. Enjoying every second you feel Loki glaring at you before you leave the kitchen.

You spend a few hours with Tony just talking as he works on his suit. You came down here to hide and be happy at the whole situation that had just happened. Tony laughs uncontrollably when you tell him what’s going on.

“This is either gonna turn into amazing make up sex or a really big argument.” Tony says, wiping a hand over his face, smearing it with oil.

You laugh as you sit on his work table, swinging your legs.

“As long as he hurts just as much as I do, I don’t care which one happens.”

“That’s toxic.” Tony states without malice. “But so is Loki so it kind of cancels each other out, right?” He asks, throwing you a devious look tapping his wrench to his chin as he does.

“Ya, we’ll go with that.” You say, jumping from the table, getting ready to leave the lab.

“Thanks for letting me hide for a bit.” You say.

“Anytime!” Tony says over his shoulder as you leave.

You’re walking down the hallway to your room when Loki materializes out of nowhere and pins your to the wall. His left hand pins your waist to the wall, his right hand is balled in a fist and rests on the wall next to your face. His face is inches from yours, absolutely livid.

“You play with fire without thinking about the consequences, sweetheart.” Loki spits out the nick name you used earlier.

“What? You didn’t expect me to fight back when you started fucking girls three weeks into our break up?” You ask through gritted teeth. “You were supposed to be in love with me Loki, if you were really in love you would have waited a bit longer.”

Loki’s face turns to regret before he gets angry again.

“You could have went for anyone other than my brother, you can’t act like you’re holier than me.”

You scoff and push at Loki who doesn’t budge. “You started it when you brought home girls that look like me. Making me think I was expendable, replaceable.” You say, your voice cracking when you say replaceable. “I may act like I’m fine all the time but my heart is in pieces Loki. You decided to take my heart and step all over it like I meant nothing to you!” You begin crying.

Loki furrows his brows at your tears, like he actually cares that he’s the one who made them fall.

You close your eyes so you don’t have to look at his face anymore. Silently crying there. You feel Loki wipe your tears with his right hand, his left hand keeps you pinned though which is smart because if you could break his grip you’d run from the situation. His right hand stops wiping at your tears when they stop falling and slides his hand down till it’s cusping your neck.

“That was not my intention.” Loki finally says in a soft voice.

You open your eyes and frown at the god. “So it was just you trying to cope in a really bad way...” You say, deflating in his hold but leaning into his hand. You haven’t felt his touch in weeks and your body is practically craving it. You hate that you react like this.

Loki gives a sad smile. “We are a concoction of toxic chemicals. We may not get a happy ending...” Loki whispers, his thumb caressing your jawline where his hand holds your neck, his eyes roaming over your face, “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re worth every second.” Loki finishes, closing his eyes and kissing you.

You lean into the kiss, tasting Loki and losing yourself in his mouth as he dominates your weak fighting with tongue. His left hand comes up to grab your hair and pull at it causing you to gasp into his mouth. He practically swallows the gasp and moans. His right hand squeezes your neck then drifts down over your breast, making sure to flow over your nipple, and then grabs your hip in a bruising grip and pulls your body to arch into his.

When you pull from his kiss you look into his eyes and see nothing but love and lust. Then it changes to a frown and insecurity.

“Did you sleep with him?” Loki whispers, not sure he wants to know the answer.

“No.”

Loki sighs and uses both hands to hug you into his body, burying his face in your neck. When he pulls away to look at you you see the love there again.

“I love you.” He says sweetly.

You smile up at him, “I love you too.”

#loki x reader #angst #loki #reader insert #my writing #toxic + toxic = healthy #my thoughts on this is that this is SO toxic #but i wanted to write this situation and didn't know how to handle it without some toxicity #come on loki would be a TOXIC ex #he would constantly remind you why he is better than anyone you date #flaunt that he's completely fine even when he's not #at least pre ragnarok loki would

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marisandini-chu-blog · 4 years

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Bruce Wayne is a Simp for Bad Bitch

OmG I can’t believe I’m writing the obvious but the idea is in my head and I need a place to word vomit.

Okay, so it occurred to me that Bruce has a more serious and intense relationship canonically with three women, as far as I know; Andrea Beaumont, Talia Al’ghul, and Selina Kyle. All of whom are the epitome of Bad Bitch with the capital B. (Yes, I’m ignoring Rachel Dawes from Nolanverse. The only thing I like about it is the Iconic Joker. No batman movie is good enough without the Batfam.)

Why do I raise this point, you might ask? Well, that’s because I want to rant that Bruce, my boy, my man, my childhood comfort character is actually a SIMP?!?!

Like... I’m just... urgh.... okay... I am very vocal for a healthy relationship with commitment and based on mutual love and respect. So the fact that Bruce has only bad, iffy, or casual relationships really want to tear my hair out. And why my heart don’t want to ship with any of them, even though BatCat is one of my favorite pairing!

I am a WonderBat shipper because I love watching them in JLAU as a kid and even though I’m not slash shipper unless it’s canon, SuperBat made much more sense to me. Heck even a threesome with the Trinity would have been healthier relationship rather than whatever Bruce had with the three of them and here’s why:

You might not have heard of Andrea, but she’s canon from the Timmverse movie called Batman and the Mask of Phantasm which is A REALLY GREAT MOVIE. Totally recommend. One of the best Batman movie at all times (Yes, I say Batman movies not Batman Animated movies). Has great plot twist and good pacing. so Spoiler Alert! Andrea was Bruce’s fiancé, making her possibly Bruce’s first love, before his journey and possibly could have stop him from becoming Batman (I would say he’s a simp in this case, but he would have had a much more happier, healthy household so it’s not bad thing) if she hadn’t disappear for being a Mob Boss’ Daughter!!!

I repeat, a mob boss’ daughter.

And she came back only to be a mask avenging assassin that went toe-to-toe with Batman.

And she could have choose to stay with Bruce but she didn’t because she choose vengeance over him. Like.... Bats, you should stop with the “I am Vengeance” routine you’ve got going on because she does it better than you ngl.

So she left and I cried at the end of that movie because trauma wasn’t enough, you put heartbreak after heartbreak to my boy. Thanks DC.

Then there’s Fucking Talia Al’ghul which is a no brainer why she’s not Bad but BAD. Like, Talia groom Jason, supervise Damian’s harsh, brutal, and abusive training, control Damian through the implant spine to kill Dick, orders Damian execution before regretting it, DRUG BRUCE when CONCEIVING DAMIAN!!! And that’s only the top of my head.

And if you want to blame it on Morrison’s writing, THAT’S FINE. We’ve bitched about Tom King’s writing enough to know it’s valid.

But, BUT, bUt... it needs to be address that even before Morrison, Talia CHOOSE to stay in the League of Assassin. People can tell me that she’s a complex character that’s loyal to her father but love Bruce and that her upbringing makes her complicated or whatever. Nuh-uh. You don’t get to make Talia helpless when it suited you. Talia is a fucking Bad Bitch (TM). She’s been taught to do whatever the fuck she wants according to her belief and ideal. At some point, Talia knew she wanted to be in position of power in the League rather than staying with Bruce.

But it’s canon that Talia, if I remember correctly, doesn’t like Gotham or Bruce’s mission. She thinks being a hero is beneath them or whatever. And doesn’t understand why Gotham is special to Bruce. So yeah, you might not agree how Morrisons write her. But do not fucking tell me she’s not a character who will not be willing to do what she thinks it’s necessary to get what she wants, including training her son as an assassin. I mean, she likes being the Demon’s Daughter in the league. She may not agree with her father but Talia wants to give Damien what she wants. Power.

Talia loves Bruce. That’s a fact. He’s probably the only person that makes her feel like she’s a person instead of the Demon’s Daughter. Bruce has a knack for that. To make people want to be better, even just a little. Talia could have chosen him, if she wanted to. The fact that she helps him so much when fighting against her father numerous times is proof enough.

I'm highly suspecting the reason she stays is because she knows Bruce would always forgive her (SIMP ALERT) unlike her father who would straight up stab her if she ever betrays him.

I’m not saying there’s no love for her son, I’m just saying if she even looks at the batfam funny than I will raise my flamethrower on that bitch’s face. Because you can’t rely on Bruce on that. That man would give bullshit excuse for her or want to handle her himself because your “history” with her makes you entitled.

Aaaah, don’t you just love it when there’s a great villain you can hate on so much?

I'm not saying she can't be a good person. Pre-morisson made Talia more of an anti-hero. But I do like Talia "I'mma cut a bitch" al'ghul. It's just... I like ruthless Bad Bitch like her. Though preferably she could have balance it with more of her maternal side through Damian.

Okay, I’m getting off tangent. Now comes to my favorite girl. Catwoman. Selina Kyle. The famous ship of all Bruce’s relationship sans SuperBat.

I... am conflicted the most about this.

See, Selina is one of the few people who understands Bruce. Who was there when he needed a shoulder to rely on. Someone who doesn’t take Bruce’s shit, and one of the constant person in Bruce’s life.

But not... constant enough. Which is a theme of her, even in her fursona... I, I mean PERSONA, PERSONA!!!

Anyway, I love seeing these two broken people. One handles it with violence and vigilantism, the other through thieving with a Robinhood-esque thing going on. So of course they get each other. It always helps that they try to make each other better. Selina taught Bruce to be okay of being selfish of wanting to be happy, and Bruce believed there’s good in her that makes her feel she’s not a hopeless case, y’know? It’s even canon that in one universe, they’re married and have daughter, Helena Wayne. So... yeah? Happy end! (Until they died but that’s non issue here at the moment.)

Then Tom King (Urgh, him again) wrote Bat proposing to Cat, and by the time they’re about to be married. Selina left him at the altar.

So yeah.

But then they get metaphysically? Figuratively? married after the Flashpoint which they turn Thomas Wayne into a villain (At least make him from alternate universe instead of timeline!!!) and kill Alfred (WhYYYYYY?! Bruce suffered enough why do you go kill both his fathers dammit!!! Let the goddamn butler rest in peace). And basically Selina and Bruce promise each other forever. Which is sweet. BatCat Forever, am I right???

Yeah, here’s the problem. (And I’m just nitpicking here, okay). For all Tom King’s character assassination of Bruce, he did Selina right in one thing. Which is the fact she doesn’t like being tied down by anything.

If Talia puts importance in power. Selina puts importance in freedom and her self-independence.

I remember as a kid watching BTAS, that Selina didn’t want a relationship with batman if it meant changing who she is. So when Selina left the altar, I wasn’t surprise at the news. Then she actually agreed to marry him, only this time, she didn’t need a judge or a paper to make the marriage legit, y’know. And I thought, yeah that’s so her.

But the thing is Bruce. Accepts. Her. Every. Single. Time.

Without a single thought. She asked, “Do you still want to get married?” and he asked “When?”

Even though it’s not the first that Cat leaves him hanging.

Tell me he’s not a simp for that.

It’s great that he accepts her for everything she is. But I’m conflicted because Selina stays static. She stays with the cat theme in the fact she doesn’t want to held back by anything. She takes what she wants. She loves who she loves. And no one was gonna change her. But then where’s the character growth?

Is it regressive of me to think Selina should be ‘tied down’ or express commitment when she never has been tied down before even though she loves Bruce?

Is it not-feminist of me to think Selina has to change herself for a man?

I just don’t like the fact Bruce and Selina enables their masked persona. Their relationship is strongly base on their cat-and-mouse chase. They nicknamed each other “Bat” and “Cat” for God’s sake. Even though yes, it’s canon that “Batman” and “Catwoman” is their real selves and their civilian life is their masks. Heck, she didn’t go for the altar because she believed (though manipulated) that making Bruce happy would make Batman insufficient, or losing him entirely (Thank Tom King for that).

That would be true, and stay true if not for one thing. Which is some thing what Bruce has that Selina doesn’t:

The Batfam.

Bruce’s real identity isn’t just the Batman anymore. He has to be a single father with growing children he never plan to adopt but did anyway because they needed each other. He can’t use his batman persona to be a father at his house, but he will when training them to be his partner. His family became the strength to Bruce’s fight for Justice.

Bruce is the Batman, but he’s not everything who he is. Selina is supposed to be part of the batfamily yet sadly, I haven’t read or watch anything that has her interact with them in a positive way or actually bond with them. Heck, when Alfred inform the proposal to the batfam they were shocked and thought it was a bad idea even (And they’ve known her for almost half their life by the way.)

The fact that Tom King implied Bruce was never happy or wasn’t happy enough without marrying Cat when his Batfam should be the source of his pride and joy?! Apparently family means nothing to Batman. Woah DC, what a great message you’re sending here.

I guess that’s why, I was a bit iffy when Selina “marriage” with Bruce isn’t official. Because she commits to the man but she doesn’t say she’ll commit to the family (though I suppose it could be imply or I just forget stuff). The batkids are grown up enough that they don’t really need a maternal figure, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need more emotionally available people in the family. And that I haven’t seen much of her taking effort to bond with the people that’s the most important to Bruce.

It just makes her want to commit to Batman instead of Bruce Wayne, in my eyes I guess.

So yeah, that’s why Wonderbat and Superbat makes more sense to me. Because they’ll make an effort to be THERE for the family and they’ll be just generally be a healthier relationships because, again, emotionally available so they might talk when they have a problem instead of running off the altar when you think a Happy Batman is Bad Batman. But no, DC have to make Bruce is a simp and his life edgy.

Anyway, I might be wrong in some things because, you know. Canon becomes a blur to me after a while.

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melancholymaz · 4 years

Text

Enceinte (3)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Now at 16 weeks in your pregnancy, The avengers have been taking the Uncle and Aunty role with pride, With your nursery being built and painted. But it’s game night and what better way to do that than have the avengers have a sleepover?

Warnings: Sad!Nat turns into Soft!Nat and couldn’t help but end it in domestic!Avengers. Swearing and Bucky and Steve cheating at Uno. Also talks of parents disowning their child.

Y/S/P = Your sexual preference

A/N: Here’s part 3! I am so deeply sorry it’s taken this long! Enjoy!

Deciding to live in the compound while pregnant has been both a blessing and a curse. Unfortunately with your parents having disowned you when you came out as Y/S/P, you didn’t have very many people to tell, besides a few friends and cousins, To which they were ecstatic.

The positives are that Nat doesn’t miss a thing as her and the team have decided to only go on missions unless necessary. So now they can be there for milestones or help if you ever need it. Even Carol has decided to stay until her niece or nephew is born. You and Natasha have both been reading pregnancy and baby books and even Tony had the two of you sleep in a spare room temporarily as him and the team combine your room with the vacant one next door for the baby’s nursery which is now ready to decorate. In about 3 weeks you’ll be having your gender reveal, as you and Nat had agreed you were far too excited to wait to see if your baby was a boy or a girl. Despite it being your first pregnancy, Your 16 week baby bump was very much noticeable, and now you didn’t look like you ate too much the night before, like you did when your bump was first starting to grow.

You’ve been keeping as active as you could, doing mild workouts during the day to keep as fit as you can. You’ve noticed your skin has become a bit more clearer, as the ‘pregnancy glow’ makes it’s mark. Sometimes you’ll have random blood noses, which is normal as Dr Cho had to convince Nat a hundred times, but it didn’t make them any less annoying. Warm baths and back massages had become your best friend as your bump starts to grow, If your back pain is bad now you dread the pain that is to come. You’ll even become dizzy at random points during the day, and it’s handy having the avengers around to easily catch you if you start to sway.

You’ve started wearing maternity clothes, to which Nat loves. Your choice in bras have become different thanks to your ever growing breasts, and she loves finding new ways to take them off as fast as she can. The only thing she loves to pout about is the fact you’ve started sleeping on your left side, as now it’s rare she gets to see your face as you both lay in bed together. That doesn’t stop her from rubbing and talking to the baby every night though.

Finishing up in the gym for the day, you wipe your forehead to rid the sweat and take a swig from your drink bottle, taking a breather before you say goodbye to Steve and Bucky who are both training together. Making your way to Your’s and Nat’s bedroom, you pass Wanda and Carol in the hallway, who asks you how you were feeling and if you needed anything, much to your gratitude.

As you enter your room you immediately notice somethings wrong. You hear a sniffle before a soft cry, and you notice it’s coming from the nursery. A frown settles on your face as you walk in and you can’t help the feeling of your heartbreaking a little. There Nat sit’s in the middle of the empty room crying, staring up at the half finished Winnie the pooh themed wall mural Steve has started, making sure to leave a spot blank to paint the baby’s name when you and Nat have decided on one.

“Babe? What’s the matter?” You ask, slowly coming up behind her, placing your hands on her shoulders, softly peering at her face. Her puffy eyes look up at you and she gives you a small sad smile. “I thought I was the one that was supposed to be emotional.”

“I’m sorry, I just came in here to see the mural but then I couldn’t help but think how surreal all of this is. I mean I never would have thought 2 years ago that you’d be my girlfriend much less pregnant with our first child. I mean all my life I thought I’d never have kids much less a partner. I used to have nothing, and now I’ve got this job... and this, family that couldn’t love us any more.”

“It does seem a bit crazy doesn’t it.” You say softly, lightly massaging her shoulders as she lets a few more tears fall. You know the best thing right now is to just comfort her and let her have her moment.

“I am so incredibly lucky to have the team, and you, and especially our baby. Everything I’ve ever wanted right here and I don’t know how or why I deserve it.”

“To be quite honest with you my love I think we’re the lucky ones. To have someone so loving and forgiving like you is definitely rare. Beans going to have the most protective and playful mama, and I think I can speak for the team when I say there’s no one that could ever replace you. You deserve all of this, The team, the family and most importantly me and our baby.” You tell her honestly, placing her hand on your bump.

“You think so?” She asks with so much uncertainness.

“I know so.” You smile, to which she returns.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Nat replies, the soft smile on her face as she looks up at you.

“Yeah, multiple times.” You smile. “Now come on, we’re gonna go have a shower and go see the team, It’s game night.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“This game is bullshit!” Sam screams, slamming his uno cards on the table before standing up and kicking his chair. “He’s cheating!! There is no way he can win game 5 times in a row!! He just picked up 4 cards!”

“Stop being a sore loser.” A smug Bucky says, taking joy in his friends rage.

“Stand up and clean out your pockets.” You demand, also annoyed at your friend. Bucky does as you say with a smug smile on his face, pulling his pockets from his shorts and jumper, proving he didn’t cheat. When he sit’s down however, you catch something in the corner of your eye and you shake your head with scoff when Steve subtly high fives Bucky under the table. Nat must have seen it to, because she too shakes her head and speaks up.

“Steven, my lovely captain.” Natasha says albeit too sweetly.

“Yes Nat?” He replies, probably too quickly to come off as nonchalant.

“Would you like to stand up and empty your pockets too?” I finish instead, smiling at the blonde who looks at Bucky then stands and does the same, which ends in him pulling out roughly 10 cards from his sweatpants pocket.

“Are those Bucky’s Cards?” Wanda asks, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“...no?” Steve replies. “They’re mine?”

“Steve is that or is it not Bucky’s cards?” Carol asks this time, her face stern, which you know is making Steve slightly panic. You see Bucky staring at Steve, almost daring him to lag on him.

“Okay fine. Buck and I made a deal that I would help him win because he always loses and he’s sick of Sam and Y/N always winning.” Steve confesses ashamedly, Bucky’s eyes widening in betrayal.

“I KNEW IT!!” Sam yells. Nat just stares dumbfounded, meanwhile Tony, Rhodey and Bruce just watch things unfold shaking their head in disappointment, Wanda and Carol stand up and start packing up the Uno cards as they both know no one will want to play after this. You, however, stare at Bucky with betrayal and hurt.

“You always say you want me to win! This is discrimination against pregnant women.” You joke, to which Nat laughs behind you.

“I think he wanted you to win so the baby will be named after him.” Rhodey inputs.

“Definitely won’t be now.” You say to which Bucky frowns. “Sorry pal lost your chance.”

“What-”

“Yeah because we all know the baby’s gonna be named after me.” Tony interrupts Bucky, pouring himself a drink at the bar.

“Jokes on all of you, we’re not naming the baby after any of you.” Nat replies, smiling matter-of-factly after nearly everyone looks at her offended. “You all suck.”

“Besides me.” Carol says, sticking her hand up.

“No definitely you.” Is Rhodey’s reply, causing Carol to throw the uno cards at him. Everyone begins to move into the common room, deciding to chill before someone picks a movie.

“Speaking of the baby, what’s the update?” Steve walks in, handing Wanda the chip bowl, who thanks him quietly.

“Well, Bean should be starting to hear sounds now hopefully, muscles are getting stronger and should be having coordinated arm and leg movement.” You explain, the team listening attentively.

“And Bean is now the size of an apple!” Natasha quickly adds.

“Seriously can’t wait to be an uncle.” Tony says, scratching his greying goatee. “How are you wanting to do the gender reveal?”

“Well so far it’s just gonna be all of us, Pete, Clint and his family, Fury, Sharon and Maria. Thor too if he’s back in time from Asgard. We’ll get Dr. Cho to put the respective colour in a big balloon and we’ll have like mini games and just have a fun time with all of us.” Nat explains. The team nods, and you can see Tony’s gears in his head rolling, probably just promoted himself the event planner.

“There is to be no one invited without our permission.” You direct to Tony, who just nods.

Just an hour later you and the team have all set up mattresses and blankets all over the common room, deciding to have a sleepover all together. Bruce and Rhodey as an exception as they believe they’re “too old” to have sleepovers. You and Nat set up on the end of all the mattresses, in case need to go toilet during the night. You’re surprised everyone agreed to do it, considering they’re the earths mightiest heroes.

As the end credits of the fourth movie rolls around, you look around to see everyone but you and Nat have fallen asleep. You move back down and start to wiggle around to find a comfortable spot, but end up failing miserably.

“You okay babe?” Nat asks, lightly rubbing your back after you groan for the third time.

“Just can’t seem to get comfortable.” You mumble back, trying to fall asleep.

“Would you like me to go get your new pregnancy pillow?” She asks laying her head on your shoulder, to which you nod softly. Nat gives you a kiss on the cheek before she stands and steps over you to go get your pillow from your shared room. When she comes back a few minutes later, she helps you position yourself and when you finally find a comfortable spot, you can’t help but sigh in relief.

“Thank you my love.” You mumble, already drifting off.

“Go to sleep Malysh, I’ll try to not keep you awake while I say goodnight to Bean.” Nat whispers, already moving down to talk to your bump. You hum in goodnight before you drift off into a deep slumber.

Malysh = Baby

#natasha romanoff x reader #imagine natasha romanoff #black widow #natasharomanoff #natasha x reader #Natasharomanoff x fem!reader #avengers x pregnant!reader #avengers fluff #avengers x reader #avengers x y/n

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scrawnydutchman · 2 years

Text

A conversation Between Bruce Wayne and Peter Parker

Bruce: So . . . what made you want to be Spider-Man anyway?

Peter: Heh . . . “want” is a strong word. I never wanted this. Don’t get me wrong, the sticking to walls and tingle thing are cool, but . . .it’s not worth what it cost to get here.

Bruce: How do you mean?

Peter: I lost my uncle one night. It was my fault. After I got my powers I went to earn some money in a fighting ring and lied to him about it. He tried to teach me about responsibility and . . . I threw it back in his face. Then, a while later, some goon with a gun robbed the fight promoter who ripped me off. I could have stopped him . . . he literally ran right past me . . .but I didn’t. I thought it served the cheap bastard right.

But then my uncle Ben was murdered that night. I tracked down the killer, and--

Bruce: --It was the robber.

Peter: Heh. You really ARE the world’s greatest detective. Yeah. It was him. Every night since I can’t help but think . . . If I had just gotten my head out of my own ass for one second my uncle wouldn’t have paid the price. If only I had actually listened to him. Well . . .ever since then I figured . . . from then on I’m not going to let chances to do right pass me by. Great power, great responsibility, yadda yadda.

Bruce: I know a bit of what that’s like.

Peter: You do?

Bruce: When I was 10, my parents were shot down in front of me by a man with a gun.

Peter: Jesus

Bruce: Since then I made a vow to rid my city of the filth that took my parents lives. I would make criminals too afraid to pull the trigger and ruin families again. I dedicated my wealth, body, mind and soul to my cause. I think you and I are very much alike.

Peter: . . . All due respect, Bruce, but . . . I don’t think we’re very similar at all.

Bruce: Oh?

Peter: . . . I mean yeah, we both suffered loss and became superheroes because of it, but . . . .the difference is what happened to me was my fault. You were just a kid.

Bruce: I was powerless to stop my parent’s death. I trained myself to attain power to assure it would never happen to anyone else again.

Peter: What about you? I mean . . .you’re going on and on about “dedicating your life to the cause” but . . . do you not do anything else? Do you party? See any women?

Bruce: I do as Bruce Wayne, yes. It helps maintain my cover.

Peter: Yeesh.

Bruce: What?

Peter: Forget cover, man. I’m not Peter Parker by day to throw enemies off the trail, y’know? I have a life outside of this gig . . . or at least I try to have one.

Bruce: How’s that working out for you?

Peter: Better than you would think. I mean yeah, my boss is a cheap asshole, things get testy with my girlfriend sometimes and this stuff really puts a damper on my college studies, but like . . . . at least I have something.

Bruce: What’s that supposed to mean?

Peter: You let your trauma rule your whole life. You don’t make any moves unless it serves “the bat” to do so. Don’t you wish you could have, like . . .a girlfriend? And I mean a REAL girlfriend, not just a fling to “maintain your cover”.

Bruce: . . . .Sometimes . . . There’s this cat burglar I sometimes recruit as my alley. What we have is . . . fun, in a non conventional sort of way.

Peter: When you say cat burglar you literally mean a hot girl themed after cats, don’t you? HOO BOY, I know a thing or two about that. Okay, so . . . don’t you ever wish you had more than what you have with that lady?

Bruce: I’m satisfied with how things are.

Peter: Bullshit. C’mon, man . . . . maybe some time you should trust her a little more. Take it from me: keeping your secret identity from the people you love can be a real BITCH and generally makes things harder. You’d be doing yourself a favor by letting her into your life.

Bruce: You make it sound so easy. Just a second ago you were talking about how hard it is to find a balance between Parker and Spider-Man.

Peter: Oh boy, is it. Sometimes I feel like giving up altogether. But man . . . . great responsibility isn’t the only lesson I took from my Uncle Ben. He wouldn’t want me to be a paranoid weirdo who thinks he’s not allowed to be happy. And . . . not that I know anything about your folks, but . . . if they really loved you, I don’t think they’d want that for you, either.

Bruce: Hmm . . . You’re a better man than me, Pete. For all the loss you endure you somehow find a way to maintain that chipper attitude. Y’know . . . there’s a madman I put away every once in a while. Calls himself the Joker. He’s convinced that all it takes is one bad day for someone to be as bad as him. But you . . . . you’ve endured more than many will experience in their whole lives and you somehow find a way to maintain yourself. I wish I had that strength.

Peter: You could if you wanted to. Making things better for yourself is a choice, Bats. None of us are a slave to anything. I could abandon everything I stand for tomorrow if I really wanted to . . .and sometimes I do want to. But I choose to keep going. Because nobody decides what Spider-Man OR Peter Parker is, but me. They can beat me to near death, take my loved ones, do any number of awful things to tare me down . . .but I’m in control of who I am. Not them. You could do the same if you wanted, Bruce.

Bruce: I made a promise. I’m sticking to it.

Peter: Fine. That’s your choice too. But y’know . . . if ever you decide to break that promise for your own happiness . . . I think your parents will get over it. See ya around, Bruce. Best of luck with the kitty cat.

Bruce: Hey, Pete. Y’know, earlier you told me that what it cost for you to become Spider-Man wasn’t worth it. Maybe your uncle ben wouldn’t be too upset either if you decided to retire. And maybe . . . he doesn’t blame you for what happened.

Peter: hmm . . . . guess we’re sorta alike after all. See ya, Bats.

#marvel #dc #batman #spiderman

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yellowocaballero · 4 years

Note

hi i know it's been the hottest of seconds but director's cut for the prophetic spring if you're still doing these? 👀

Sure! I’ve spoken a lot about the prophetic spring, but I’m fairly certain I could give some meta information about my intense life-long obsession with Tim Drake. Dude has been showing up in my fics since I was 14.

But actually, the ficlet I wrote ages ago might be more interesting? So here it is. Exploring a dynamic that was WAY underserved for how important it is: the Steph, Cass, Tim dynamic!

No CW that haven’t appeared in the prophetic spring, but specific mention for drug addiction and drug depiction, as well as references to molestation, abortion, torture, and suicide. Story under the cut.

Tim stared down into the toilet bowl. It was a little yellowed. He needed to clean it.

He stared at the small baggie of pills in his hand.

He visualized dropping it into the bowl, flushing it. Possibly mutating an alligator, or giving the race of mole people that lived in the Gotham sewers a nice surprise.

Tim sighed, and pocketed the drugs. Maybe tomorrow.

A month after the incident with a runaway foster kid and a, in retrospect, kind of embarrassing fake fight with his older brother, Tim got a text from an unknown number. To make matters worse, it was at an insane hour of the day - noon.

Texts from strangers were hardly uncommon. Tim had an extensive contact network, growing larger by the day, but he had set up a Google Voice on his computer so they were all routed through a program there. Being bothered at all hours of the day on his phone was hardly his idea of a good time. The only people who really had his real number were his bullshit ‘friends’ and his asshole ‘family’. He hadn’t even given his number to his ‘friends’ - he had given it to Kon under strict confidentiality, and then Kon had given it to all of Young Justice. Asshole.

405-555-1998: dropping by in three hours so make sure ur presentable :)

As Tim had just woken up, most of his brain was occupied by a single whuh?

Just as his mind swirled in sleepy confusion, his phone buzzed again.

405-555-1998: B1706XQE45

The code checked out. It was an ally, not an unknown or an enemy.

Tim groaned, covering his eyes with an elbow. He needed coffee.

****

The coffee was a new thing - rather, it was something he had drunk plenty of growing up, because there had been nobody around to inform him that coffee was bad for developing brains. Growing up completely unsupervised was probably why Tim was a drug addict now. He could totally blame this on his parents never loving him.

Not a drug addict, Tim thought to himself anxiously as the coffee sputtered into the extra large gallon pot. Just someone who...uses drugs...in an unhealthy way. Substance abu - substance user, who just used it maybe as a bad coping mechanism. Not that Tim had good coping mechanisms, but it was better than sawing off heads or becoming a drug lord. When you thought about it, it was either being a serial killer or doing drugs, so logically it means that he should do more drugs to decrease the amount of fun little murders he does -

Tim made toast.

The coffee was a new thing, because he was trying to use it to replace the drugs. He had cut back. The stupid little sorority that called themselves the Birds of Prey had been talking to him about it. He had agreed to try. It was best to set expectations low, so he couldn’t disappoint. Actually, Tim loved disappointing, maybe he should set them higher. Maybe he could make inspirational speeches about how he was a good guy now? Ha ha.

The three hours had been a deft move. The texter knew noon was his average wake-up time at best, and the three hours gave him enough time to sober up if he had been high or drunk at the time. Tim didn’t like to start popping the minute he woke up, but - well, sometimes he did. Or sometimes he was awake at noon because he had been on an all-nighter drug binge. They hadn’t given their name, either, which meant that it was somebody who he wouldn’t want to see.

He could bounce, escape to some corner of Gotham until they gave up. Except he had the sense that whoever had gone through the effort to get his number wasn’t the type to give up. Almost nobody Tim knew was the type to give up. His ‘friends’ and his ‘family’ never gave up. On anybody but him.

A voice in his head, not quite yet suffocated, sounding altogether too much like the Replacement, echoed in endless attempts to get him to come back. Oh, whatever. Kid was a try-hard. He needed better taste in made up families.

Over the next three hours, he debated his tactics. If he wasn’t escaping and the texter was playing the buddy card, then the situation probably wasn’t dangerous. He strapped in his armor under the baggy pyjamas that he never took off anyway, and spitefully made no effort to control his hair. He did put on make-up, an old hand from keeping CPS off Bruce’s trail - man, he should have pretended Bruce was molesting him, that would have been funny as fuck - to hide the bags under his eyes. No use looking pathetic.

He hid a few more weapons around his apartment. He anxiously checked his phone, staring not at the new texts but at Harley’s offer sent a week ago. He still hadn’t replied. He didn’t know what to do with it.

As if he could ever feel safe sleeping under the same roof as her?

As if he ever felt safe anywhere?

Maybe he had nothing to lose. That was the greatest part about this, the most wonderful aspect of what he had done to everybody in his life. When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. That’s freedom, or so Janis had always told him. She knew what she was about. Overdosing on heroin at 27 - that was understanding what it meant, to have nothing. To be free. He was almost jealous.

At two on the dot, a polite knock echoed through the apartment. Tim looked up from where he was relaxing on the couch, with all of the possible entry points in his line of sight. That wasn’t a knock he had memorized, and he had memorized everyone’s knocks.

Nothing for it. He’d have to get rid of them as quickly as possible. Maybe he can pull the insane sociopath schtick again; that had always been effective in ditching his parents. Tim sighed, walked over to the door, swiped his thumb against the keypad, undid the three deadbolts, and opened door only to see -

Stephanie Brown, hands propped on her hips and smiling widely. Cassandra Wayne, standing right behind her, serene as ever.

Tim closed the door - or he tried. Steph had expected the move, and the minute he had opened the door her foot had jutted out and blocked him from closing the door. Effortlessly, she wrenched it back open and stepped into his apartment, forcing him to press against the wall and scowl as insane women infiltrated his space.

“Wow,” Steph said loudly, “this place looks like a wreck!”

Tim groaned.

***

The thing with Steph and Cass was this:

How to describe it?

The sister he had never expected, the best friend he had never thought he would have. Cass was his twin, Robin’s shadow, the other side of his mountain. Bruce had adopted Cass barely five months after he became Robin, and Tim had unabashedly resented her for stealing Bruce’s attention so quickly. He had always liked her more, but Bruce had liked everyone more than Tim, so maybe it was no surprise. She was sweet, kind, gentle, and no trouble. Tim wasn’t any trouble either, but he couldn’t be the rest of it if it bit him in his ass.

Robin was the brain. Cass was the muscle. They were a team so closely linked, conjoined at the hip, that Tim couldn’t remember a patrol ever done without her. Bruce had let them start patrolling alone at fourteen (“You didn’t let me work alone until I was fifteen, and I was an assassin,” Damian had spat), and they had been an unbeatable team. Robin’s hand-to-hand was weak, but nobody ever got through Batgirl. Batgirl struggled with technical knowledge, reading and writing and investigating and chasing down leads, the only area where Tim had ever excelled. Together, they had almost been as good as Batman. Sometimes, Tim had let himself think that they might be better.

They had been so similar. Everyone had always said so. They’re both so quiet, the Justice League had said. Emotionless little freaks, the Rogues had said. Neither of them blink, their schoolmates had said. But there had been nothing to say, not between them: they could have a conversation without words, without even Sign. Cass had known every twitch of Tim’s body, had understood him down to his core. Nobody else ever had. Everybody had always called Tim inscrutable and impossible to understand - but to Cass, Tim had been an open book. She knew every inch of him. And she had loved him anyway.

And Steph! When Steph had found them when they were fourteen veering on fifteen, and from then on it was as if she had always been there. She was so big, so smiling, so much, and she had never apologized for any of it. Nothing scared her. To Tim, that was the perfect vigilante - somebody who was scared of nothing, who never hesitated, who was good.

Not even Bruce could intimidate her. When Tim was fourteen, he had thought that was the most amazing thing in the world. Bruce intimidated everyone, but Steph had just stuck out her tongue and kept badly backflipping off roofs anyway. Through twin convincing, Tim and Cass had convinced Bruce to give her a chance, and Spoiler had slot into their dynamic perfectly. She was their best friend, always.

She wasn’t good at hand-to-hand at first, but Tim had improved by then, and they could cover her. She improved faster than he had, and judging from the reconnaissance footage Tim had frantically consumed after he came back to life, she was amazing now. She was wickedly smart, practical and down to Earth. If Tim was better at hacking into a computer, Steph was the one who found the post-it note with the password stuck under the desk.

But more than any of that, she had brought the social skills. She had brought the calming presence, the sweet hand to victims and civilians, and her good humor was infectious. Steph was good with people. She was a born leader. Resilient. Brave. Everybody liked her. Everybody loved her. Tim had. She had loved him too. She could have done so much better than Tim and Cass, weird little societal rejects, but she had chosen them as her family.

It had been the three of them. For as long as Tim’s life had meaning, for as long as he had been loved, they had loved him. Tim had grown up alone, in a world of one, and they had infiltrated it. They had expanded it, and they dragged his life into more than just Tim. Into Tim-and-Cass-and-Steph. Into Robin-Batgirl-Spoiler. Into meaning, and love.

Tim hated them. And he wanted them to suffer.

“That’s the Stephanie Brown I remember,” Tim sneered, closing the door behind him. Steph had quickly thrown herself onto Tim’s couch, clearly somewhat surprised at how comfortable it was, and Cass had perched daintily on the arm. Cass had always refused to sit like a normal person - she would rather sit on the backs of sofas, or on the arm, or perched on chairs like a bird - “If I had known you were coming I would have jumped cities.”

“We would have chased you down and you know that,” Steph said cheerfully, like she said fucking everything. “Besides, if you had known we were coming you would have gone into witness protection. You’ve been avoiding the fuck outta us.”

“Wonder why,” Tim said, injecting as much mean-spirited sarcasm into his voice as possible. “I need more coffee, don’t go through my shit.”

The apartment was small, and the kitchen had a cut-away wall where he could see through into the living room. Stephanie hated nothing more than being ignored or looked down upon, and if he dismissed her and didn’t react then she’d grow infuriated with him and leave. He couldn’t fight with her, because if it came down to a battle of rhetoric or emotions she’d win single-handedly. She was so good with words. Cass...had no weaknesses.

Which was inconvenient, because it was Cass he absolutely had to get rid of as soon as possible. She was very emotional, and more than a little sensitive. Especially to rejection. If he was cruel enough to her, she’d start crying and leave. There was only one problem with that.

As he jammed more grounds into the machine he watched the girls out of the corner of his eye. They weren’t talking or whispering to each other, both fully aware of how well Tim could read lips. They weren’t even having one of those body language conversations they could only have with each other, aware that Tim could crack that too. Instead Stephanie was casually sprawled on his couch, looking for all the world like a middle aged dad watching the football game, looking around the room. Cass, as usual, was zoning out. Or, of course, looked like she was zoning out - Tim could tell that she was waiting for something to happen, and was preparing herself for it.

Shit. Tim fought the urge to gnaw on his fingernail. Cass was going to be a problem.

He risked another glance backwards. She could see him, so she knew. Fuck. He had never been on the other side of her mind reading. It was fucking inconvenient. Psychics should be shot on sight.

The coffee sloshed into the biggest cup he could find in his kitchen, and Tim began draining it immediately as he leaned over the cutaway. He kept the cup held up to his face, obscuring it. Face covered, everything under the elbows covered - best he could do without preparation.

“This little field trip sanctified by Sgt. Brother?” Tim asked, sipping the scalding hot coffee. Not hot enough. He needed - he needed - they’d see -

“We’re nineteen, we don’t need his permission for everything we do,” Steph said, amused. So she was going to speak for Cass - hardly unusual, as whenever they were all together Steph tended to be the only one who spoke - but seeing as Tim was Tim then it was definitely a strategy.

“He lets his precious baby sisters knock on the door of drug lords for fun?” Tim sneered.

“If they’re incompetent and retired, sure!”

Tim gritted his teeth. Don’t rise to her bait. Don’t. She was the best person in the family at getting a rise out of their enemies. He didn’t stand a chance.

“What do you want?”

“We thought we’d take you roller skating at the rink,” Steph chirped.

Tim stared at her.

“Or the pool,” Steph said, faux-thoughtfully. “Or just the mall?”

Fuck this. Tim headed for the door, ready to walk out of the building barefoot in his pyjamas. He tugged at the doorknob, only to find that it wouldn’t open.

Tim breathed in through his nose, then out through his mouth. There were other exits. He was not trapped. Had his apartment always been so small? He could have sworn that it was bigger.

He turned around slowly. Stephanie was grinning at him, twirling what looked like a small plastic cylinder. Tim recognized it instantly - fancy League tech. Overrides all electronic locks and controls them. They all used it to trap perps and heighten their fear tactics. Tim jammed his thumb on the keypad. Nothing happened.

Cass glanced at Steph, and made a small motion. Tim couldn’t interpret it. Why couldn’t he interpret it? Did they have a new code? It was Cass. When nobody else had understood her, Tim always had. Now they had their own language, one that Tim couldn’t interpret anymore. Tim was lost in translation, always drifting.

“We aren’t bringing you in,” Steph said, just as light as ever. No trace of pity or caution or gentleness in her voice: just relentless cheer. “Literally all we want to do is talk. Play a board game, maybe?”

Tim’s eyes flickered to the hidden panel in the wall next to him where he had stashed a gun and a sword.

“Bro,” Steph said, “you really don’t want to escalate this.”

“Do you think you can take me?” Tim asked curiously, letting his hand drift to his arm. He shook his long pyjama sleeve down to cover his wrist. “That’s pretty cute. Last time I checked, you’re the shittiest at hand-to-hand in your team.”

But Steph just rolled her eyes. Shit, wasn’t he supposed to be ignoring her? He couldn’t, not so long as she kept pushing and pushing. Not so long as she was in his house. “Leave off. Just because Jay and I are the last people in the fam who weren’t trained in Mystical Ninja Arts doesn’t mean I’m incompetent. Hands in the air, by the way.”

Stephanie was overly sentimental. New tactic. He raised his hands slightly in the air, caught reaching for the weapon hidden in his armor. “Incompetent enough to let me die.”

There. Finally. Thank god, Tim thought he was losing his touch. The muscles clenched in Stephanie’s jaw, and just a twitch of her eye - banishing a bad memory. “Everybody’s been saying you’ve turned rude. I guess you’ve just been avoiding us because you don’t want to hurt our feelings, right?”

“I didn’t remember a lot when I was first resurrected,” Tim said casually, despite the fact that he had never told anybody about the first awful six months. Something about Steph and Cass just pried it out of him, like invasive surgery. Or an autopsy. “I remember everything about those six months, though. Homeless. Practically retarded. Brain damage does that to you, you know. I lived on the streets, did you know that? It was a miracle I lived through it.” He gasped, as if he was remembering something. “I slept on 34th street! You lived near there, didn’t you? Maybe you even walked by me.”

Steph went white. Cass’ expression froze. He was pushing hard, but these two wouldn’t react to anything less. Steph could trade barbs better than he could, even now.

“It’s a good thing Talia found me,” Tim continued. “She was the only one who cared.”

That did it. Steph tensed, leaning forward, and even Cass stiffened. “Is that what she told you? How can you believe her?”

Tim just shrugged, walking back to the kitchen and hiding his body language again. He took an extra loud slurp of the coffee, just to be annoying. “Talia never lied to me. She said that nobody cared enough to save me. And guess what!”

Steph’s jaw clenched again. She was a hot head. A fierce temper, an impulsive girl who jumped in feet first and sanity second. Woman, now. When had that happened? “Cut that shit out. We all know what you’re doing. You’ve been doing it to everyone. Did you think Connor didn’t warn us?”

Snitch. Tim slurped his coffee again. “Connor’s been telling everyone to give me space.”

“Yeah, everyone but us.” She stood up now, ignoring the flicker of a frown on Cass’ face, and folded her arms. A challenge against the world. Against Tim. It didn’t matter. “You don’t believe half the shit you’re spewing. You’ve never believed your own bullshit, Tim. You’re just saying it to drive everybody away. It’s not going to work on us.”

“Why?” Tim asked innocently. “You’re too thick?”

“Because we love you!” Steph cried. Tim rolled his eyes. As if he hadn’t heard that one before. “Saving Richie proved it, you aren’t as insane as you keep pretending you are. You know what you’re doing is wrong, you just don’t care.”

“Wow, you caught me.” Tim took another long swig of his coffee. It was making his hands jittery. Good. “Local genius aware of his actions. Call the press. Call Uncle Clark, he needs a scoop.” He arched an eyebrow at Steph. She hated that expression of his - she had always found it so aristocratic and pretentious. Joke’s on her, he was pretentious. “Do you mind if I go do a line? I’m not high enough for this conversation.”

If she had told him who she was, he would have done a line anyway just to spite her, and she knew it. “You don’t want to try,” Steph said stubbornly, “but you’re trying. You don’t want to care, but you care. You don’t want to feel it, but it hurts so much you can’t bear it. You can’t get anything past us, Tim. It’s always just been us. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Doesn’t that mean -

“What that means,” Tim said, and he found the words scraping his throat. He found himself talking a little louder than he meant to. The coffee, you know. Made you jittery. “is that you should have saved me. If you loved me so fucking much, you would have been anything other than useless. You’ve always been the most useless girl in the world, Steph. You couldn’t save your crook of a dad or your junkie of a mom. You couldn’t save your baby and you couldn’t save me. You’re ghetto trash putting on airs, and everyone can smell it on you.”

As soon as he said it, he tensed. He shifted his stance, ready to throw the coffee and spill the scalding liquid on her. Obscure her vision. It would take a second for her to vault the cover, so he could duck down. From there he could get the gun, shoot the window, jump out the window. She couldn’t win. Tim had the most powerful weapon in the world in his disposal and that was his infinite, burning hate. His hate for Steph and Cass burned him to the ground, and his world with it, and he was going to burn them to cinders because he couldn’t do anything else.

But Steph didn’t move. Cass got off the sofa. She walked up to Steph, and gently pressed a hand on her shoulder. She squeezed. Steph exhaled, long and shaking, and nodded at Cass. She walked into Tim’s bedroom - hey! - and shut the door.

Then Cass stared at Tim, and there was no more need for words. Not between them.

Tim vaulted the cut away wall, aiming for her feet first. Cass didn’t dodge - that would imply that she moved like an object moved. She moved like water moved - swift and supple, with such infinite grace and precision that it was like she wasn’t human at all.

But he had gotten better. He didn’t spend two and half years trained by the League of Assassins in crochet. Tim lashed out with a foot, she dodged again. He threw a punch, she moved. He feinted, clearly leaving her an opening, and she didn’t take it.

Bitch.

Cass shoved away his coffee table, sending it skidding across the floor and opening the floor space. The rug became their arena, tight and intimate, no room for maneuverability. Tim acted and she reacted, Tim lashed out a sweep kick and she jumped over it, Tim tried to grapple and she broke his hold. She never threw him to the ground, never pinned him. She just moved.

She was good, but not good enough to toy with him and win completely. The way to win against Cass was to leverage your height - Tim was taller than he once was, although that wasn’t saying much - weight, and strength against her. A couple good hits and she was down.

The issue, of course, was hitting her.

He got a hit in. It was much easier when she wasn’t even fighting back. She rolled with it effortlessly, taking the impact to gain a little space between them. She breathed deeply, sweat rolling down her neck. Tim used to take a cold compress and press it to that neck. She used to smile at him. Thank you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said.

“Too bad,” Tim said.

Fights weren’t like in television, long and choreographed extended scenes to entertain and thrill. When Ro - Tim was in a fight, a real fight, it was typically finished in less than a minute. The only way that a match can get long is if the other person was deliberately tiring you out - a risky strategy - or if you were of completely equal strengths with similar fighting styles. Or if it was a spar.

As Tim tried to hit her again and again, he realized that it was a spar.

No, not even that. It was a conversation.

Tim grabbed her wrist, and said: I want you to hurt. Cass broke the hold, telling him that he can’t. Tim leveraged the motion and kneed her in the back, telling her that the only goal of this fight was pain. Cass let the impact take her down to the mat, an incredibly disadvantageous position, but rolled out of the way just as Tim tried to exploit the opportunity. I’m not scared of you. Tim hit again, and again, and again, failing every time. I want you gone, Tim said, and this is the only way I know how to do it.

This is what Tim said: as much as I once loved you, I now hate you. The infinite depths of my love, my twin sister, how we moved in perfect sync. I hate it all. As much as I cared, I now hate. Feel this hate. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said.

They moved in perfect sync, even now. Cass couldn’t predict his movements before he made them, like she used to - his training was different now, developed and refined. But Cass knew the League of Assassins too, had been trained by them just as he had, and they were written into her bones when they were only carved into Tim’s. After his third patented Talia move, she adjusted to fit his style, and their fight metamorphosed into more of a dance. Like they used to.

“Why not!” Tim screamed, the stupidest possible thing to do in a fight, but Cass didn’t take advantage of his exhale. He lashed out a fist to cover the opening, but it was lazy and over-extended, and she dodged easily. “I’m going to kill you!”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tim desperately tried to call the green to his vision. It was so easy. All he had to do was tap into that rage. Talia had called it blood lust. Said it was normal, even good. But it wouldn’t come. Where was it? It was his only friend.

Desperately, Tim went in for another punch to the face - Cass’ jaw was the weakest part of her body, an old injury - but he over-extended again, and this time Cass took the opportunity. She grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, dropping him to the mat. She didn’t try to twist him around, instead landing him on his back. Bad move for her.

She kneed him in the chest, putting her full hundred and thirty pounds on him. She twisted his hands behind his back, pinning him, and Tim could do barely more than wheeze.

He looked at her in the eyes for the first time. They were infuriatingly calm. Her hair was tangled and clumped with sweat, but she wasn’t breathing hard. Her expression was placid and serene, as if she was watching one of her stupid fucking nature documentaries instead of pinning her brother to a hard and scratchy rug in a shithole apartment, three years after he was tortured to insanity and shot himself in the head.

So much time had passed. So much had happened, nasty and festering and putrid, and Tim had let it happen. He had made it happen. There was a rot in Tim, and it had eaten him up until there was nothing inside. If you cut him open, would it spill out? Would it infect her, infect Steph? Could he make them suffer?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass repeated. “So don’t be scared.”

“Scared?! I’m not fucking -” Tim wheezed, cut off by the lack of air as Cass pressed down.

“I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t mean to leave you alone. But I did. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to kill -”

Cass pressed down on his chest again, cutting him off. She had finally done the one thing nobody in Tim’s life had ever figured out: how to make him shut up. “You can be as mean to me as you want. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll stay.”

Tim wheezed. In that, maybe, Cass heard something, because she continued as if he had spoken. Or maybe she just wanted the chance to talk. It had been stolen from her for thirteen years, and it was valuable to her.

“You do not have to be kind. You do not have to hug me, even if I want you to. You do not have to be my brother. I know it hurts too much. But you are me. I am you. You do not even have to try for that. I do not have to give it to you. You have it.”

Tim couldn’t help it. He cried a little, and then he couldn’t stop.

Cass got off him, but she kept her promise. She didn’t hug him. She just propped him up against the sofa, holding his hand, and didn’t speak. At some point the door creaked, and he felt Stephanie next to him.

This is why, Tim thought hysterically, he had been avoiding them.

He knew this would happen. There was no hiding from Cass. There was no posturing, no pretending. She didn’t want anything from him. She never had. There was nothing he could say that would drive her away, because Cass did not listen to the words people spoke. She spoke only for clarity, when she could not afford for her words to be misconstrued, and for the comfort of others.

Cass knew that he had been lying out of his ass. Cass knew that he wasn’t as insane as he pretended, as cruel as he wanted to be.

He couldn’t make Cass hate him. Shit.

None of them said anything. Nothing needed to be said, not between the three of them. Cass might be having a silent conversation in Sign with Steph, but he didn’t care enough to open his eyes and look. When they had first met, it used to make Steph so mad that Tim and Cass were having ‘secret conversations’. She had poured over her dictionaries, learning as quickly as physically possible so she could keep up. Everything Steph had, she had worked hard for.

Steph was in college now. Premed. She wanted to be an ER doctor. Steph wasn’t a genius, she had to study hard. She wouldn’t be able to superhero in med school, so she was ready to hang up her cape for a few years until she achieved her dream. Steph said that she could do just as much good as a doctor as a superhero. She hadn’t always wanted it. When they were kids and Bruce used to ask her what she wanted to do when she grew up, in his awkward faux-dad way, she had always shrugged and said that she might be a nurse.

“Why not med school?” Bruce had suggested, between sleepy spoonfuls of oatmeal. She used to spend more nights at their place than at her own. Her mom hadn’t noticed.

Steph had just shrugged awkwardly, nibbling her whole-wheat organic toast that she would stare at suspiciously. Rich people, she would say, sighing. “I would never be able to afford it. And no way I’m smart enough.”

“You’re good enough,” Bruce said, which was the closest he ever came to praising somebody. “I’ll pay for it.”

Steph had gaped. Cass had eaten her Lucky Charms smugly. Tim had rolled his eyes. “An in-the-know doctor for the vigilante community would be invaluable,” he had informed her, pretentious and callous. “We could use you.”

“You deserve it,” Cass had signed.

“You have a bright future, Stephanie,” Bruce said, buckling under the panic of being a responsible adult. “I would hate to see you waste it.”

He would hate to see any of them waste their future. He had hated to see what Tim had become. He knew that. The last time he had ever seen Bruce, it was just to disappoint him. Bruce was the only parent he had ever had, and his standards were so sky high it was impossible to do anything other than disappoint.

The fact of the matter was this: he loved Cass and Steph more than he loved Bruce. He could hate Bruce. He could hate himself. But Cass and Steph…

Bruce had ear-marked a lot of money for Steph, both for whatever continuing education she chose and for her future. It had raised a lot of questions among the lawyer team, but ultimately she had been written off as another of his strays. Tim had left her a lot of money too. There probably wasn’t any point: when she married Cass she’d have equal access to the fortune. Rich people, Stephanie used to whisper in awe, looking at organic toast.

Cass was majoring in dance. She wanted to be a ballerina.

Tim’s future...Tim’s future…

“Or we can watch a nature documentary,” Steph said out loud. “If we all promise not to say a fucking word.”

Incredibly, unmistakably, irrevocably, Tim groaned. “Not the fucking bee one again.”

“I like the bees,” Cass said serenely.

“If you aren’t going to get out of my house can I at least smoke up?” Tim asked miserably.

“I brought gummy bears,” Steph said, chipper as ever, “which are way better.”

“I’m going to the fucking bathroom,” Tim grumbled, which everybody knew was as good as a yes.

“If you take anything I’ll know,” Cass said serenely, and also threatened.

“Fuck you, bitch.”

Steph and Cass high-fived, and Tim sulked angrily to the bathroom. He took a second to look at himself in the mirror - looking for Tim Drake, failing, as always - before opening it and grabbing his baggie of pills.

He looked at it. He looked at the toilet. He looked at the baggie.

He didn’t flush them. He put them back in the medicine cabinet. Tomorrow. He’ll do them tomorrow. Not today. He can hold out for 24 hours. It’ll be fine.

For a wild, stupid, insane second, Tim wondered if he could say that tomorrow too. If tomorrow he would look at them and say: maybe tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that…

If there was a future, for a fuck-up like him.

The faint strains of Cass’ stupid fucking bee documentary began playing through the thin walls of his shitty little apartment, and Tim turned out the lights of his bathroom and closed the door, locking it securely behind him.

#i write a lot of shit i don't post and i don't feel the need to post it a lot of the time #but sometimes im like. ah yeah that does exist maybe they'll care #my writing #tim drake #batman #batfam #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #do not FUCKING get met started on tim cass and steph im OBSESSED

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dalekofchaos · 3 years

Note

What are 10 things you think would improve WWE?

I’m making it 15 since I got worked up

Let the wrestlers craft their characters and matches, write their storylines and promos. Let the wrestlers BE the creative and be themselves. No more scripted promos from writers who have no idea what the wrestlers want and especially from soulless corporate writers who have no idea how to wrestle, telling the wrestlers what they should and shouldn’t do in the ring

Fire Bruce Prichard, Kevin Dunn and John Laurinaitis into the sun

Do not make it mandatory to keep the wrestling to one specific style. If you bring wrestlers from the indies, especially Japan or Mexico, then let them wrestle a Japanese or Mexican styled match

Let a woman legend like Trish Stratus, Lita, Molly Holly, Alundra Blayze or Wendi Richter handle the creative for the women’s wrestling. Honestly, ANY women’s wrestler legend would be perfect, I honestly would prefer it if the women’s wrestling was handled by SOMEONE who cares about women’s wrestling

No more micromanaging the announcers. Let the commentary sound authentic and let them call it from the heart. Michael Cole used to be good as an announcer. The way he called Mankind and Eddie becoming champions was as great as any of JR’s calls. Vince and that bucky beaver motherfucker Kevin Dunn, is what killed the announcing. So yes, no more micromanaging the announcing.

No more 50/50 bullshit booking

No more cookie clean goodie tooshoes babyfaces. It got old with Hogan and it sure as shit got old with Cena. Why do you think fans hated Roman’s babyface character? Why do you think fans quickly turned on Seth Rollins? This is why Drew’s babyface character got old fast. If anything, he should have been a tweener.

For the love of god, stop ruining everyone who comes out of NXT. Let the NXT wrestlers be who they were in NXT. Stop trying to ruin what was already perfect because Vince wants to put his mark on the wrestlers

Enough with the garbage comedy. Comedy does work with wrestling, but the way Raw and SMackdown has it, it’s the drizziling shits. While we’re on the subject of Raw, make it 2 hours again. People lose interest fast, especially if you pretty much intentionally made the show the absolute shits

Actually give a shit on the build up to your PPVs. There has been very little effort put into the feuds, storylines and the go home shows for the PPVs. Example, this year’s Wrestlemania lead up fucking sucked.

Replace the gimmick PPVs with classic WWF or WCW PPVs. Some examples. Replace Hell In A Cell with Halloween Havoc. Replace TLC with Starrcade. Replace Extreme Rules with The Great American Bash. Replace Elimination Chamber with War Games. Replace MITB with No Mercy. And replace Fastlane with No Way Out. Gimmick matches are only special if they are used as a blow off to a feud. Seeing them yearly no longer made them special and just made them another match imo.

Stop with the repetitive storylines and the poorly booked feuds.

Get rid of the generic logo belts and unify the Tag titles and replace the 24/7 Championship with the Television Championship. These are what I would replace the logo belts with these custom belts

14. Stop dropping storylines and pushes with a drop of a hat just because you got bored or have no idea what you’re doing

15. Vince steps down and HHH, Shane and Stephanie all work together to make WWE a better place

#WWE #Anti WWE #Anti Vince McMahon #Anonymous #Asks

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hailxhydra · 3 years

Text

the more you say (the less I know)

By @hailxhydra for @iwritedumbshit

via @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, Steve Rogers & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers

Summary: TONY STARK IS DEAD. The words were plastered on the front page of every newspaper across the world. Tony Stark, the resident genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist, was dead. Completely, irrevocably, unchangeably, dead.

Or was he?

After the events of Endgame, Peter Parker decides he has to go back in time to save his mentor’s life, finds out that Tony wasn’t everything Peter thought he was, and chaos ensues.

“You sure about this, kid?” Steve asked Peter, coming up from behind him to clasp his hand on his shoulder. Looking out into the crystal clear lake and the surrounding forest, Peter gulped, trying to get rid of that unsettling feeling at the bottom of his stomach bubbling up until it overflowed, and he broke down right in front of everyone.

“What?” he said, swallowing the lump at the back of his mouth. Turning to face Steve, he shook off the hand on his shoulder, which immediately went straight into the pockets of his black pants. He glared at Steve, though obviously not in a malicious way. He was met back with a blank stare. The impassiveness of it was relieving; Peter didn’t need any more emotion from anyone, let alone the person who had abandoned his mentor for years, without a goodbye, nor some contact information. The bleak, vacant gaze held a sort of comfort for him, being something steady, something that he could hold on to while all around him, there was chaos. It was a lifeboat.

“Look, we’ve all been there. Believe me, I know what it feels like. I was in ice for seventy years. I lost everyone. But I had people to help me through it. You do, too. You don’t have to do this.”

“What’re you trying to get at?” he blatantly asked, rolling his eyes and turning back to the lake, the calm lake, the lake that had absolutely no problems, the lake that was steadfast and balanced, the lake that was everything that Peter wanted to be. “Are you implying that I might do something? I can’t change what happened either way, what with the implications, plus, the Grandfather Paradox is a bunch of bullshit, it just creates an alternate timeline, like with blue robot lady one and two, and anyway, how would that work without any local quantum interference? It’s crazy, I mean like-”

“I’m not talking about the science behind it. I can’t know what you think, but, looking from the outside, it is pretty clear what you want to do. Now, I don’t know if anyone else realizes it, and maybe it’s just because we’re so similar that I would have taken the same line of action, but you have family here. People who care about you. Just, spend a few minutes mulling over your decision. You have to be completely sure before you do anything drastic,” Steve said, starting to walk away after he was done.

“You’re really big on monologues, aren’t you? It’s a very 40s vibe you give off!” Peter called after him, a smile gracing his face in this tough moment. Steve just made a peace sign in return, his back still facing him, and continued his conversation with Sam. He looked around, taking in the serenity of the lake house. Tony had bought it during the Blip, so Peter had never gotten around to seeing it with him. He quietly stepped inside, making sure not to make any noise as to give away his position. He wanted solitude, without anyone barging in every few minutes to check in on him, or to offer him some juice, or to whack his head with a newspaper (although that last one was mainly Sam and Bucky, and he didn’t know from where they even got the endless supply of newspapers).

The inside was nice. A change of scenery from the dark outfits everyone wore outside. Built almost entirely of walnut wood, the lake house served as a reminder that he would never get those five years back. The five years, in which everything had changed. He wondered if May had gotten dusted, too. If she had gotten married again, or had a kid. They didn’t have much time before the funeral to catch up, always being whisked away to talk to one person or another. He led his fingers across the panels of wood, taking in the peacefulness inside. Feeling a presence creeping up behind him, he swiveled around to punch the person in the gut. He widened his eyes when he realized who it was.

Bucky Barnes, aka the Winter Soldier, aka the White Wolf, aka the most dangerous man on Earth, was keeling over, hands on his midsection, looking like he was about to puke.

“OhmygoshI’msosorry,” Peter rushed, hands outstretched, but stopping in mid-air, as if he was rethinking his decision to help him up.

“Come on, kid. Why do you have to do that to a hundred-year-old man? Ever heard of ‘respect your elders’?” he groaned, stabilizing himself by putting his hands on Peter’s shoulders and lifting himself up.

Peter felt his cheeks heat up and turn scarlet before muttering a small, “I said I’m sorry.”

“What I came here to say was before you so rudely knocked me over, was that I think Bruce is firing up the machine. He wants you to suit up and get ready. It’ll be ready any time now,” Bucky said, giving a Chesire cat-like grin before turning away to talk to someone Peter didn’t know.

Peter laughed and shouted, “That wasn’t a good pun at all!”

Bucky looked back at him, gave him the middle finger, and yelled back, “I’m a hundred-year-old assassin, give me a break!”

Peter shook his head and turned to look at the suit in his hands. The suit itself was grey, with streaks of red running down it (the Avengers were very fashionable, to say the least). It had a leathery texture, but not quite leather; it was comfortable, yet effective at the same time. Most importantly, it would protect him from the quantum energy and radiation that came with time travel.

Looking at it, Peter felt unworthy, but, wearing it, he felt like he could do anything that he ever wanted. He felt like he was an Avenger. It wasn’t like anything else in the world. It was special. It was distinctly his, not anyone else’s; his.

“My wittle spidey is all gwown up now!” May exclaimed, smiling at Peter in his new time-traveling suit.

“May, I’m not a baby!” he pouted, stomping his feet on the ground, purposely acting immaturely. “I’m not your ‘wittle spidey’! I’m a grown-up kid!”

“Whatever, it’s fine. Just come with me. They’re all ready for your big superhero entrance.”

Getting there was a long hike. For some absurd reason, Bruce had decided to put the time travel machine smack in the middle of a dense forest, and it took quite a while, even in his super suit, to reach the destination.

“Peter? You ready?” Bruce (Professor Hulk) asked. He put his big green hand on his shoulder, and Peter felt something break there.

He suppressed a cry and said weakly, “Yeah.”

“You sure about that? One of us could do it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Bruce gave a soft smile and led Peter over to the launching pad.

“So what do I have to do again?” he asked.

“Just stand there. Make sure you’re holding the stones and the hammer. You need to return those things at the exact time they were taken. If you don’t, it’ll-”

“Create another timeline, I know. That’s all I have to do. Just return the stones. To the right time. Okay, let’s do this.”

He stretched out his hands and legs and went to go and stand at the pad. Surveying the crowd, he caught a certain someone’s eye. Steve took off his hat, bowed down, and smiled at him. He gave a small thumbs up to Peter, reassuring him that this was the right decision. Peter cleared his throat, nodded a few times, and gave Bruce the signal.

“Five… four… three… two… one.”

“How long will it take?” Sam asked. “I need a break.”

Bruce looked at his monitor in confusion. Typing something into it, he showed Sam the calculations. Sam just raised his eyebrows.

“I’m not some science genius. You’re going to have to explain it to me.”

“He was supposed to come back in two seconds. He should’ve been back by now.”

“What?” he asked, although there wasn’t anything he could do, and he knew that. Steve smiled a bit and turned around to face the wilderness. Unfortunately, this action did not go unnoticed by Bucky. He lunged towards him and pulled him up by the collar. He raised his eyebrows to his hairline and gave Bucky a bewildered look.

“What did you do?” he threatened. Steve gave a smirk and raised his hands, surrendering. He shrugged (which was really hard, given Bucky was still holding onto his collar), and slowly took Bucky’s hands off of him. Once they were completely off (and into his jacket’s pockets), Steve huffed.

“I did nothing, Buck. It was his decision, not mine.”

“Will you tell us where he is?” Sam asked, coming up from behind them. Steve simpered, looking Sam straight in the eye.

“No, I’d rather not.”

“I know you did something you little piece of-”

December 16, 1990 || New York City

The streets of New York City were bustling with people trying to do last-minute Christmas shopping, the shops illuminated with strings of Christmas lights. Although the rain dampened the mood (in more ways than one), the crowd hurried from store to store, trying to acquire the perfect gift for their friends and family, brightening the otherwise bleak scene.

The women, clad in their voguish outfits of pantsuits and tinted oval sunglasses, directed their tired husbands to different toy stores, presumably to buy a set of some knick knacks and trinkets for their children. The little boys and girls dragged their mothers and fathers to various windows, pointing at the numerous playthings propped up in the front.

The teenagers, dressed in baggy sweatpants and flannel jackets and too many chains to look good, looked bored as hell, and were smoking in some neglected corner in the adjacent alleyway. They laughed, sending puffs of smoke billowing into the atmosphere, seeming so carefree in that small moment.

Muffled conversations could be heard throughout the streets, though no one was paying much attention to the stifled voices, choosing to focus on the more fortunate aspects of life. A man, speaking into his phone in hushed whispers, hugged his briefcase tight to his chest and sent out panicked glances if anyone came in close proximity to him. A woman, an unlit cigar hanging from her mouth, clutched her handbag, a small purse dog whining in it, and grinned at any unsuspecting young man that came near her. A young couple, looking like they were physically connected to each other, walked along the jam-packed street, sneaking in kisses as if they weren’t allowed to be seen in public with one another. There were, in total, at least a few hundred people in that small street, all trying to get away from the stress of day-to-day life.

Although it was a lighthearted scene down on the streets below the towering skyscrapers, the rain poured down onto the throng of people, the immense clouds covering the full moon, giving the place an eerie aura.

In an alleyway off to the side of the square, Peter dazedly woke up, scratching his eyes, just recovering from the gripping experience of time traveling. He had returned the infinity stones to their particular places and time periods. The soul stone to Vormir in 2014, the Tesseract to that old SHIELD laboratory in 1970, the time stone to the Sanctum and the Ancient One in 2012, the power stone to Morag, the Aether to Asgard in 2013, and the mind stone to the oblivious Hydra agents at the Avengers Tower in 2012. So, as you can see, it had been a really long day for Peter.

He groaned and raised his hands, only to find them covered in dirt and some wet, slimy substance he couldn’t remember the name of. It wasn’t just his hands; the whole alleyway was covered in this substance.

“Ew,” he groaned, making sure not to be loud, so that the horde of people wouldn’t see him. That would cause multiple complications in Peter’s plan, probably resulting in him being sent to an orphanage because they couldn’t find his parents. It could also be more drastic and he could end up in some government facility because his name wasn’t on any of their rosters. He might also have been classified as an alien, and that would definitely thwart his mission.

The pitter patter of the rain woke Peter up from his delusional fantasy, and, putting his palms on the damp, muddy ground, he stood up. Tip toeing out of the alley, he surveyed his surroundings in order to make sure no one was watching him, and wandered out onto the street. People shouldered their way through the crowd, always looking behind their back to see if someone was following them. Peter did the same, though for different reasons than them.

He walked along the street for a while, getting whisked away by the crowd. There wasn't really a place to go for him right now, so he just wandered around, window shopping (though he had absolutely no money), trying not to think about the past Christmas he spent with Tony, eating food until they threw up, and opening the presents they gifted each other, Rhodey, Pepper, and Aunt May.

There were a lot of… characters on the road. Some of them smiled at him very creepily, staring at him as though he were something enjoyable to eat for supper, and others were confused as to why a child, dressed up in a weird suit without his parents, was solemnly walking along the boulevard - Halloween had passed two months ago, and it was now Christmastime. One couple was kind enough (or evil enough) to hand him a Hershey’s chocolate bar. Not those bite-sized little ones that Peter used to get from Delmar’s or that one grocery shop in Queens. This one was king-sized. It could’ve lasted Peter at least a month if he were back in Queens in his apartment.

A sense of dread overtook him. The mission. He couldn’t fail it. No, he had to prove to himself that he was ready.

But what if he wasn’t?

He pushed his way through the mob of people. They stared back at him, eyes wide in shock. He didn’t care. He sprinted all the way across the road to the other side of it, shoving away the people who got in the way. He reached the empty wall, feeling the bile rise in his throat.

He puked onto the wall. The people moved away from him. His heart pounded in his chest. Blood throbbed in his ear. Holding onto the wall, he sobbed. The world seemed to turn fuzzy, and everything he saw was distorted, as if he were in a VR game that was malfunctioning. The wall in front of him turned wobbly. Instead of a straight wall, it was now a curved structure. The ground underneath him seemed to give out. He was falling. He was falling to his death. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t call for help. No one wanted to help him. Another round of bile seemed to erupt from him, and he puked even more of his lunch onto the wall. The world was ending. The world was ending, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

He couldn’t save people from dusting. It was his responsibility to save them. People were counting on him, and he let them all down. He let Mary and Richard down. He let Ben down. He let Aunt May down. He let Mr. Stark down.

He could hear people in the distance, calling for help. He also heard an indistinct sound of laughter. A familiar sound. This sound, unlike the multiple other people screaming, he knew. He knew this sound.

“Mr Stark?” he mumbled from force of habit, pausing to throw up for the third time. All the sound ceased. The tears didn’t, though. They continued flowing in wet, fiery streaks down his cheeks. He could see the crowd make a partition, though his vision was seriously warped. A teenager, probably around his age, walked through the space. He could hear the crowd whispering and pointing at him, although the other man paid no attention. He had to squint his eyes to see him, choking back a sob. He couldn't embarrass himself more than he already did. He cried violently, and the man crouched down and cocked his head to the side. Almost, but not quite, as if he was observing him. As if he was some experiment in a glass cage.

He sobbed harder, and he retched, wishing something would come out so the man would move away from him. The man just tilted his head to the other side and squinted his eyes. He looked at all the other people and shooed them away, and they obliged. Peter and the man were left in solitude, a small sort of bubble forming around them, giving them some peace and quiet.

“How do you know me?” he asked in a low, menacing voice that made Peter cry even more.

“I don’t know!” he bawled. “I’m sorry!”

The man picked Peter up by the arm and looked him straight in the eye. He couldn’t see well through the tears in his eyes, but the man looked truly scary. He heard some shouts in the background, cheering the man on. He grunted and threw Peter onto the ground, walking away to his group of friends.

Peter tried to pull himself up, but, through his severe panting and sobbing, he could not sit upright. He then resorted to lying on the murky ground (on which there were some questionable substances). Gasping for air, Peter tried to calm down.

Key word: tried.

The tears never stopped flowing. The memories didn’t, either.

Memories of Mary and Richard. Of how his last words to them were, “I hate you!”’ before they boarded that damn plane.

Memories of Ben. Of how he died in his arms, bleeding out from the gunshot wound, while he couldn’t do anything to save him.

Memories of how he left Mr. Stark for five years. Five freaking years. And, just as he came back from the dead, Mr. Stark had to go and sacrifice himself for the universe.

Lying there, on the ground, the crowd walking around him to avoid stepping on the child, he fell into a deep sleep, unbothered by the disgusted looks thrown at him by the supposedly “posh” people of New York City.

#this is just chapter one #i'm going to add more at some point #i hope this is what you wanted!#ahhh i'm so excited #i hope you like it #peter parker #tony stark #time travel #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #ben parker #may parker #irondad #spiderson #endgame #avengers #avengers: endgame #i tried basing the sort of panic attack on ones i've had

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moving-accounts-uwu · 4 years

Text

Right Where You Were Meant To Be (Bucky x Plus-size!Reader)

Fandom: Marvel

Characters: Bucky x Plus-size!reader

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, body-shaming

Story type: One-shot

Word count: 2.7k words

Summary: Reader has a crush on Bucky the second she looked at him but she also has feelings of self-consciousness about her body and doubts she’d ever end up with Bucky or any guy like Bucky. That all changes one night at one of Tony’s parties.

(A/N: This is a cute little one-shot idea I had and just wanted to write out. I feel there aren’t many plus-size!reader stories so I wanted to make my own. I’m a chubby girl and felt like I needed some love, lmao. Any mistakes I take responsibility for, this story wasn’t beta read, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!!! Also, the gif isn’t mine, but he just looks so precious <3)

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It all started when you looked at him for the first time. He had just moved into the Tower, and you had just gotten the job as Tony's new assistant since Pepper had become CEO of Stark Industries. Because you worked in an environment with superheroes who were very fit and healthy, you had become self-conscious of yourself; whether it would be what you wore, the things you ate, or just how your body looked in general.

Being a bigger girl, it often took a toll on your mental health when you would notice the glances, the whispering, the judgmental stares, and how shopping for clothes in your size was difficult, and it made you feel like you had to lose weight to fit in and belong. You felt alone and isolated.

You didn't have any friends; you didn't even talk to many of your co-workers, and just kept to yourself a majority of the time. When Bucky moved in, you noticed he did the same. He didn't speak much to the rest of the team, he mostly stayed in his room, and only hung around Steve. Bucky was very fit, and his muscular body showed it whenever he wore tight-fitted clothing. You would never wear tight-fitted clothing for fear of having your plumpness accentuated.

After five months working for Tony and having a more friendly relationship with the rest of the team, you had built a few close bonds with some of the heroes. Wanda and Natasha were your closest girlfriends and would regularly have 'Lady's Nights' every Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Tony, Clint, Sam, and Steve were like your older brothers and would look out for you.

You and Steve made it a routine to do small exercise and yoga in the afternoons just after 4 o'clock. How this all started was because you wanted to accomplish small goals for yourself, as Sam told you to do to help with your mental health.

"Steve," You called out as you stepped into the Tower's gym, the one place you knew where to find Steve if he wasn't in the common room.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)! What's up?" Steve turned to face you as he held the punching bag still while he watched you walk closer to him, noticing you fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

"I just... I wanted to start doing light exercises, you know, to boost my endorphins, and so I have something to do in the afternoons when I've finished with work." It wasn't a complete lie, but it just sugar-coated the fact that you just wanted to lose weight to gain confidence in yourself.

Steve had agreed to help you; he wouldn't push you too much either because he didn't want you to strain anything and not push you out of your comfort zone too much. Both of you would exercise for an hour each day in the afternoons. This routine had been going on for six weeks, and you were enjoying it. You felt better about yourself each week when you would check your progress and write down how much you lost during the week; you were more confident than you were all those weeks ago before asking Steve for help.

During one of those afternoon exercises, you and Steve were both in the Adho Mukha pose with Steve wearing his usual tight t-shirt that you swore was a size too small, and shorts while you wore a loose, black tank top, and tight-fitted leggings that complemented the shape of your plump ass. You were so in the zone that you hadn't heard the gym doors open and the sound of footsteps coming closer to you. Bucky stood behind you and Steve, him getting an eyeful of your butt while he cleared his throat to catch his best friend's attention.

"Hey, Bucky! I didn't notice you were there. (Y/N) and I were doing some yoga, would you like to join us?"

You. Were. Mortified. You quickly stood up beside Steve and looked down at your feet, trying to avoid looking at Bucky after having your ass practically in his face.

"Uh, I kinda have to get ready for 'Girl's Night' tonight, but I think Bucky can keep you company." You nervously spoke, having your words jumble out quickly due to your inner-embarrassment. "I'll see you later, Steve!"

You bolted out of the gym as fast as your legs could go and made it up into your room without another incident. When you flopped onto your bed, you let out a loud, exhausted sigh before closing your eyes shut tightly. 'Why did I have to act like a nervous wreck? You didn't even let him talk for Christ's sake!' After beating yourself up over the little incident, you started to get ready for 'Girl's Night' with Nat and Wanda.

It was two hours into 'Girl's Night' and you, Nat and Wanda had, at least, drank four glasses of Kraken Rum and about three shots of Vodka. You were more relaxed and carefree, enjoying your time with your best friends while gossiping about an episode of Criminal Minds you all saw the other day together.

"Not gonna lie, I would love to have a man like Morgan. Have you seen his muscles? And how he kicks down doors like a badass?" You gushed.

"That is true, and I fully believe Morgan and Garcia should be together. They have chemistry and look so cute!" Wanda loved her Morgan and Garcia ship.

"Eh, I like to have a super cute genius but that's just my opinion" Nat took a sip of her fruity vodka drink while shrugging her shoulders.

"Of course you would, you're with Bruce and that's a little bias, Nat." You gently shoved your red-haired friend playfully.

You and Wanda giggled like school girls when Natasha scoffed before she pointed an accusing finger at you.

"Well, says you, (Y/N)! You practically drool whenever you see Barnes."

That shut you up quickly. 'How does she know?! Play it off'

"That's very funny Nat, but I don't know what you mean."

"Don't bullshit me, (Y/N). I've seen the way your cheeks get all pink and how your eyes are glued to him whenever he walks by. You're so smitten it's grossly cute." Then Wanda turned to you with a small smirk on her face.

"Maybe you should ask him to work out with you and Steve!"

Flashbacks of your embarrassment earlier that day made your face go pale. 'Absolutely not'. You shook your head furiously, staring at your two friends with fear. There was no way you'd have the guts to do such a thing, not after how you acted around him before. Plus, you didn't want him to look at you with disgust when he looks at you working out. You shake off all the negative thoughts before finishing off your last bits of rum.

"I think I'm going to head off to bed now, gotta wake up early tomorrow. Tony wants me to help him organize and plan a gala party to celebrate his newest project. And when I say to 'help him' I mean I'll be doing most of the work while he hides away in his lab with Bruce." You said before walking off and waving the girls goodbye.

2 weeks later...

You had most of the gala planned out. You had booked a cute catering company to organize some food dishes for everyone and even hired a group of people to decorate one of the large common rooms that would fit all the guests on Tony's guest-list. You had even bought a cute new dress to wear for the party. The party was starting that night at 7:30 and you would hopefully get everything done while having an hour and a half to spare to get ready.

When the decorating and planning finished, you quickly made your way to your room and got showered and changed. You stood in front of your mirror for quite some time, nitpicking every flaw you could see, judging your appearance because you knew how the other women at the party were going to look flawless and have every man swooping in for them. A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your negative thoughts.

"(Y/n), you ready?" Wanda's voice called from the other side.

"Y-yeah! I'm coming now." You dashed for the door to get away from the mirror so you can't put yourself down even more. Once opening the door, Wanda linked your arm with hers, and both of you walked toward the elevator.

Telling FRIDAY which floor, you both arrived just as a few of the guests were mingling around; drinking, eating, and chatting. You glanced around, hoping to see the familiar faces of your friends, spotting Sam, Nat, and Clint near the bar where Natasha was serving the drinks. Tony was standing next to Pepper and being an absolute flirt as always while Steve and Bucky were standing near a corner with drinks in hand. Before you could make your way over to the bar, Wanda told you to wait where you were while she goes to quickly touch up her make-up, disappearing before you could say a word. You stood there awkwardly and looked around, making sure everything was going swimmingly until you felt a presence behind you. A tap on your confirmed that someone was indeed behind you.

You turned around to see a group of two slender women and three muscular men staring at you with smug and cocky smiles on their faces.

"Can we get some more drinks? And make them with a little more alcohol this time." One of the men quirked an eyebrow, waiting for you to scurry off to grab their drinks.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not part of catering. I'm-"

"You certainly look it though, I mean, you're not dressed like you're here as a guest. The dress you're wearing looks like the other catering staff." A woman spat, her eyes narrowed at you. You started to feel self-conscious about your outfit now, realizing the color-scheme looked very similar to the catering staff.

"Plus, the dress isn't that flattering for your body hun. We can practically see your muffin top and panty lines with how tight that dress is on you." The other woman commented while she leaned to the side to glance at more of your plush figure.

A stinging sensation began to appear behind your eyes, feelings of doubt, and an anxiety attack began to make themselves known. So looked away from the group and quickly made for the elevator, shooting Wanda a quick text saying you weren't feeling too well. 'How stupid of me to think I even looked good or that I could fit in at the party.' By the time the elevator doors reached your floor and the doors opened, hot tears were falling down your cheeks as you tried to furiously wipe them away with zero results. The tears kept flowing down as you began to walk down the hallway to your room; quiet footsteps barely making noise as they followed you. Just as your hand settled on the door handle, a warm hand clasped onto your shoulder gently. With a yelp, you spun around with a jump to look at your "attacker", only to find a pair of stormy blue eyes staring at your teary eyes intensely.

Bucky's eyes held hints of concern and worry, but it was hard to see because he was good at hiding his emotions, and the fact that your eyes were blurry from crying.

"You okay, (Y/n)? I saw you leave the party quickly and noticed how fast your breathing was." Bucky had to look down at you because he was so tall, or was it because you were just very short?

"I'm fine, Bucky. I just don't do well in crowded places or with so many strangers. I got a bit overwhelmed but it's fine now." You weakly smiled but he could see right through it, he always did.

"You had a panic attack after speaking to a group of people, and judging by the looks they gave you while talking to them, I can only believe it wasn't a pleasant conversation." Bucky then brought both his flesh and metal hands to cup your face while he peered into your eyes more. "Tell me what happened, doll."

You sighed, you knew he wasn't going to let this go. Even though you both barely spoke to each other, he still cared for you like the both of you knew each other for years. Something about his calm voice and caring nature helped your nerves settle.

"They thought I was part of catering and asked if I could get them more drinks. I told them I wasn't catering, only for them to make snarky comments about my outfit and body. But it's fine, I'm used to having those comments made to me, I've dealt with those types of people all my life." Your hands gently held his and tried to move them away from your face but Bucky didn't budge.

"You don't believe them, right? I mean, I think the dress looks good on you. It shows off your curves and any man who doesn't get blown away is blind."

You gave a humorless laugh and shook your head at Bucky, looking down at the floor.

"You're just saying that to be nice to me, Buck. We both know girls like me don't belong in a place like this, or a party like that. You can go back to the party, I don't want to waste more of your time." You went to turn away when Bucky held your upper arms tightly.

"Not a chance, doll. I'm not a fan of crowds myself and was about to leave the party myself until I saw you run away. I'd rather spend my time with you and making sure you don't ever think that you don't belong."

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, his stare was intense with adoration and love while you stared at him in shock that he'd want to spend time with you. Before you could blink, Bucky leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours, his arms wrapping around you and caging you into a warm and gentle embrace. Your hands rested onto his firm chest while his hands rested on your lower back, just above your butt. At first, you were in shock but then you gave in to the kiss and snaked your arms around his neck, your fingers embedded into his long hair.

The kiss was full of passion, and so much love that you didn't think it was possible. When the need for air was too much, you both separated and looked into each other's eyes once again.

"H-how? Why me? We barely know each other!"

"Because, (Y/n), I've been smitten for you since I first laid eyes on you but didn't have the guts to tell you. Steve's been a punk and trying to get me to join your work out sessions for weeks but I was too nervous to do it." Bucky's cheeks tinted red as he chuckled.

"And why's that? I was scared that if saw me working out, that you'd be grossed out by my body." You explained, chewing on your bottom lip.

"I could never be grossed out, sweetheart. I love a woman with curves and plumpness to her. I was nervous that if I watched you work out, I would try to make a move on you too fast and scare you away. I didn't want that to happen." Bucky grabbed your chin and leaned in again, his lips almost touching yours. "And you looked downright sexy in those tights, they shape your ass well."

You gasped and lightly smacked his shoulder while he smirked at you. His playfulness coming through. You made the first move this time and got onto your tippy toes to kiss him. This is was quicker than the first but still held the same emotions. With so much strength you underestimated he had, Bucky lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he opened your door and carried you over to your bedroom. Both of you watched a bunch of movies in your room; many kisses were shared before you both passed out, cuddled up under your fluffy blankets, safe in Bucky's arms. Right where you were meant to be all along.

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Thanks for reading!!! <3 <3 <3

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pl-panda · 5 years

Text

Damienette aranged marriage: part 3

Whoa... Two parts in one day. Sorry if this one is worse, but yet again I wrote this instead of sleeping.

Warning: there will be some cursing from Jason, but can you really blame him? Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1

Damienette arranged marriage: Part 3

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“And why would you tell her everything?!” Jason screamed, still hidden behind Batman’s towering posture.

“Because she is my wife Todd!” Damian screamed. The silence in the room was thick enough that if the assassin swinged his sword, he would be able to cut it in half. Finally, Bruce was the one to break it.

“Fuck.”

This worked like detonating a bomb. Immediately, Red Hood, Red Robin and Nightwing pushed their way into the room and surrounded the two teens.

“You were gone for less than forty-eight hours!” Dick

“How did you manage to get married!” Drake

“You are just fifteen demon spawn!” Todd

“And who is she!?” Drake again.

Talia watched this whole ordeal with no small amount of amusement. That is until Bruce suddenly appeared next to her. His frown was downright scary even for her. “Explain. Now!” The growl was low and emotionless, but it was enough to yet again put the room in dead silence.

“Beloved. It is good to see you too.” Talia smiled seductively.

“I am not in the mood. Now talk!”

“Fine.” She dropped all illusion of niceness. “I made peace with old enemy of the League. Or even a shaky alliance. But to seal the treaty, an assurance was required.”

“And that assurance was?” Jason asked confused, earning a facepalm from Dick.

“The Royal Marriage. An heir of the League and future leader of the Order.”

“And that leader would be… her?” Batman asked, not fully convinced.

Marinette was standing there the whole time, greatly uncomfortable with the attention Bat Family was giving her and Damian. She did read a bit on them, but it was always Alya who never shut up about heroes. For the most part, she preferred talk about Ladybug, but lately there was slowly forming a rift. The aspiring reporter was falling into Lila’s lies, posting unreliable videos on Ladyblog. Rossi had it for Ladybug and Alya, together with the rest of Marinette’s class, was falling for her machinations. They still hanged out with Marinette, but there was this distaste forming around her. She was no longer their to-go person with personal problems, being replaced by Lila who was awful at helping others unless it benefited her. But now Marinette had more pressing matter than a pity little liar. She looked at Batman, then at the bat-kids and finally at Damian. They were all looking at her expectantly.

“Oh right! Sorry. I did it again…” She gave them a sheepish smile. “I am Ladybug, hero of Paris and Great Guardian of the Miraculous.” She stated. Most of the heroes (bar Damian who knew a tidy bit about the Order of the Guardians) were confused.

“Paris doesn’t have heroes. There aren’t even any supervillains there.”

“Excuse me?! How does nobody knows what is going on in Paris!” Ladybug shouted. “Ugh! Seriously?!”

Batman narrowed his eyes. “Forgive me, Ladybug, but the Justice League would know if there was a threat in Paris. So who are you really.”

“Then ask Green Lantern. He was the one who laughed at my plea for help.” She scowled, but then her demeanor changed. She calmed down and gave a sheepish smile. “But guess I should thank him. I can only dread what would happen if Superman was akumatized. Or Flash. Or anyone really. I don’t think I could win.”

Batman frowned. He would have a talk with Hal once he dealt with this. If there was really a threat like that, ignoring it was not only stupid, but dangerous. And the girl was at best Damian’s age. She was dealing with this for how long? The way she spoke suggested that she was in charge. A child fighting in a war all alone.

“For now beloved, it should be enough for you that the two of them are legally married.”

“Like hell!” Jason shouted at her, waving his gun. “They are fifteen. No court would accept this.”

“Actually,” Tim started, “under some laws they can be married. For example ‘The Personal Status Law of Muslims’ in Sudan sets the minimum age at ten.” He spoke like he was reading an encyclopedia.

“But we are somewhere between Nepal and China. I don’t think there are such laws here.” Dick said, but his confidence wavered.”

“Tt. First of why don’t anyone ask me or Marinette about our opinion?” Damian asked irritated.

“Shut up Demon Spawn. Adults are working here”

“If you don’t shut up, Todd, I will make you eat your dirty socks until you choke on the stench.” The young boy threatened. Marinette cringed at this, not really wanting to imaging such situation.

“The marriage stays.” Talia stated coldly. “Otherwise, I will not be able to stop League from going to war against Order of the Guardians.”

“You are their leader.” Batman pointed out.

“That may be correct, beloved, but I am but a regent. Only after Damian finally assumes the leadership, his word will be law. I do try to reform the league, but there is little I can do in this situation.”

“Bullshit!” Jason cursed. “You are just manipulative bitch.”

“Jason!” Dick hit the back of Red Hood’s helmet, causing him to almost tumble. “Language. There are minors in the room.”

“Don’t worry Mousier.” Marinette noted that the whole debate shifted to English. She learned it years ago when she first got interested in fashion. Some of the greatest fashion critiques wrote only in English and she didn’t want to be left behind. And other foreign critiques and designers were always translated into English. “After today, cursing is the least of my worries.” During the talk, Marinette pulled her yo-yo to check the situation in Paris. The good news were that there was no Akuma attack since her confrontation with Hawkmoth. Bad news: she was gone for over forty hours already.

“What exactly is the deal?” Bruce sighted. He loved his boys, but he could practically feel his hair graying. At least the girls didn’t go around marrying total strangers. “I want the full story Talia. Don’t even try to deceive us.”

“As you wish Beloved.” She smiled and sat back at her chair. Jason was about to hop onto where Marinette sat, but Damian ‘accidentally’ tripped him. Ladybug detransformed and Tikki flew out.

“What is this flying mouse?!” Dick screeched upon seeing a kwami.

“My name is Tikki. I am kwami, or if you prefer a small god, of creation and luck.”

“Okay… I’ve totally seen weirder.” Jason shrugged and Tim was too busy trying to plug in his pocket kettle to make himself some coffee.

“Ekhm.” Bruce faux-coughted to get their attention. “Begin Talia.”

“Many centuries ago, magic jewels bestowing extraordinary powers were created. These were... the Miraculous. Throughout history, heroes have used these jewels for the good of the human race. Order of The Guardians was responsible for protecting and distributing the Miraculous for the good of all humanity. Some time in the past, League has learned about the existence of this artifacts, more powerful than even Lazarus Pit. A secret war began between two organizations. There was a constant stalemate until the Order was mysteriously destroyed without a trace. We believed all miraculous to be lost until two years ago heroes and villains using them appeared in Paris. Initially, we ignored them, long since abandoning this war. But then, some month ago a temple of the Guardians suddenly reappeared with the Order in chaos. The League attacked, but they were strong enough to withstand the initial strike and turn it into a siege. In time, we would have succeeded and wiped them once and for all. But instead, the Guardians understood their situation and reached to us with agreement. A truce and alliance, in exchange for sparing them.”

“Yeah right! Only an idiot would take such offer!” Red Hood kept arguing with the Assassin woman.

“Or a strategist. Either way, the League wins. They no longer need to worry about threat, but this way they also get an ally.” Batman remained expressionless, but he kept sending Damian and Marinette side-glares. He wanted to know how they are coping with this. The girl was a bit shaken, but that was to be expected. He would talk more with her later. What surprised him was that Damian seemed to show concern for her. The kind he usually reserved only for his brothers and father.

“Yes. While our methods differ, the League and the Order have a common goal: prosperity for all humanity. But to ensure that neither side would go against the other, there needed to be a more tangible symbol of this union.”

“Marriage of the heirs. In the past such method was often used to symbolize an alliance. It symbolized equality of both partners and parties they represented.” Tim acted as an universal encyclopedia again, which Jason did exploit to tease him mercilessly while the others focused on the discussion.

“And let me guess” Dick frowned. “If they break the deal, it means war?”

“Yes.” Damian simply nodded. The memory of his mother’s threat hanging over the girl’s live was still fresh. Now that he got to know her better Damian was surprised that someone so brave and strong could at the same time be such emotionally unstable or open. It was almost refreshing. His family was awful with emotions and beyond that women only saw his last name. Many times he dealt with liars who tried to use him to get into the pockets of his father. But with Marinette he was sure that she was genuine with her feelings. He could not find any reason for her not to be at the moment, especially after she revealed her secret to him.

“So what? We are just supposed to roll with it? What will press think? You will give Alfred a heart attack Damian.” Dick rambled. Youngest Wayne decided to ignore him and turn to his father.

“While this might be a bit inconvenient, I believe it is the best course of action for now.” Damian spoke with cold and calculative voice.

“And what about you?” Batman turned to the girl, who for the most part lately was busy discussing something with the kwami in French. Bruce was proficient, but he was too focused on Talia and Damian.

“I… I accepted that my duty as Great Guardian comes with certain responsibilities. If this is what it takes to preserve peace, then I guess… I guess I will roll with it.” She smiled at Dick, almost daringly. Damian smiled too. Anyone who teased his brothers like that earned some points in his book. “But I can’t just leave Paris. For now it’s peaceful, but I don’t know how long it will last. And there are my parents… Oh Kwami! What will I tell my parents! Or my friends! Or my class! What if they reject me for this and I will be kicked from home, then I will not become a professional designer and I will never fulfill my dream and I will be forever lonely…” She unintentionally rambled in mixture of English and French while walking in circle and waving her hands. Damian grabbed her by her wrists to stop her before she accidentally knocked someone out and then cupped her hands with his. She was still talking random stuff, which made absolutely zero sense. Damn. She is cute when she is rambling. What!? He shut down the intrusive thoughts and focused on the girl… his wife.

“Calm down. Take deep breaths. You will not be alone.” He hoped it would work, but she barely slowed down. He sighted. Damian looked her deep in her bluebell eyes and she saw the two whirlpools of jade green he had. They were more prominent that Adrien’s. “Listen to my voice. All is going to be fine. We will not leave you.” This time, it did work and she calmed down.

Rest of the Batfam watched in shock how Damian has acted. It was most unusual for him to initiate physical contact at all, much less act this gentle. They looked at Talia, but she shrugged.

“I didn’t do anything if that’s what you think.” She smirked. “But I don’t think I needed.” Two newly-wed were just standing there, starring in each other’s eyes.

“Robin!” Batman finally got him to break out of this. “We gotta go. We will figure out exactly what to do later.”

“Fine. But we are taking Marinette with us.” Damian stubbornly stated.

“Yes. She should not stay here. And I have more questions for her.”

The flight to Paris was surprisingly fast. They traveled in perfect silence, but she felt rather uncomfortable with how everyone (bar Damian) sent her a suspicious glares. Finally, they landed around 8 PM on the rooftop of local Wayne Enterprises headquarter. She walked out first, happy to finally get back onto her home turf.

“Now there are some questions that needs to be answered.” Batman spoke.

“Uhm… Okay?”

“Stop intimidating her Father.” Damian scowled.

Bruce reluctantly nodded. “Maybe it would be the best to discuss it in private of my office.” He pressed some buttons on his glove and the bat-plane camouflage. Well, it was probably more of Bat-cargo plane since it could fit six people comfortably and still have much space free.

They got into the office, where Bruce had a total of five armchairs set around the coffee table. Immediately, Damian and Dick took two of them, leaving the head one for Bruce and one in between the two Waynes for Marinette. Tim didn’t bother trying to fight with Jason over who gets the last place, instead opting to just jump onto computer chair at the desk and activating a holo-screen. He quickly connected to Batcomputer and started to pull various files (mostly on Marinette and her close ones, but she didn’t see it).

“So tell me. What is our young couple planning to do now?” Dick teased them.

Jason was standing next to the alcohol bar, pouring several glasses of whiskey. Before Bruce could protest, he brought five and placed them on the table. His reaction to disapproving glare from the other adults was to just shrug. “What? They are married. I think underage drinking would be the least of the problems. Oh! That reminds me.” Jason grinned maliciously and pulled his wallet. He tossed something square and silver at Damian. “I don’t want any demon spawns junior running around soon.”

Once Marinette realized what was that and what was he implying she turned redder than Tim’s outfit. Damian scowled. “I have a sword on me Todd, so watch what you are saying. I might not have chosen her to be my bride, but I will not let you embarrass her just for your fun.”

Jason saw an opportunity and he would be damned if he didn’t take it. “Which sword are you talking about?”

Damian hissed like an angry cat and drawn his sword, lunging at his brother. Todd initially wanted to block the attack with his gun, but fine steel cut right through it. Seeing murder in Damian’s face he did the only plausible thing: started to run.

Marinette was inventing new shades of red with her blushing. Bruce gave her an apologetic look. “Please, don’t take his comments to heart. Jason is…” before batman could find a right word there was a sound of something crashing, followed by a painful yelp. In just a moment, Damian returned happy, his sword a bit bloody.

“Please tell me you didn’t kill him…” Dick begged. Marinette was not sure whether this was a joke or not, but the longer she stayed with the batfam, the less sane they appeared.

“Nah. But he didn’t look where he was running and toppled the stack of boxes and I ended up stabbing him in his left calf. He will live.” Damian assured them. And true to his words, a limping Jason appeared in the doors. He grabbed a fresh bottle of whiskey on his way to the armchair and slumped resigned. “Demon spawn!”

“Idiot!”

“Enough!” Bruce wanted to pull his hair out. “We came here to discuss a certain situation not stab each other. Marinette?”

“Yes monsieur Wayne?” She asked, still stunned with what happened. She had to admit Damian acter chiviliarus protecting her honor, even if his way was pretty violent.

“I was trying to ask you, what do you plan on doing now?”

“I… I don’t know. This all happened so fast…”

“It’s okay. I don’t think anyone would have a plan for such situation.” Dick reassured her

“Bruce does. It’s inside the safe in the batcave in folder labeled ‘Talia never gives up’.” Tim chimed in before returning to his research.

“Well, no one sane has such plans.” Dick tried to cheer her up. It did work even if just a bit. “But ask yourself what do you want.”

“Well… I would wish to finish my education and I always dreamed about becoming a professional fashion designer.”

“And how is this plan working so far?” Bruce inquired.

“Well, I do run a small internet boutique, where I take commissions and uncle Jagged refuses to wear anything that wasn’t personally designed by me.” She said casually.

“Wait a moment… Uncle Jagged as in Jagged Stone, the world-class rock musician?!” Tim suddenly shouted.

“Uh… yes?” She got confused

“But his only designer is the mysterious MDC! That would mean you are MDC!”

“Uh… yes?” Marinette had no idea why Tim acted like that.

“Oh god! Oh god! I got to meet MDC! Can I get your authograph?” He was suddenly next to her, holding a copy of the her first album cover she made for Jagged.

“Sure.” She signed it and handed it back. It read: ‘Good luck TD, MDC’.

Tim Fainted.

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Taglist (sorry if I missed you)

@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64

#fanfic #fanfiction #crossover #marinette x damian #order of the guardians #guardian!marinette #maridami #maribat #damienette #maribat au #league of assassins #arranged marriage au #batman

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