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lostandsearching · 3 years ago

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Her Loss

Pairings: Maria Hill/Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff/Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff/Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N is forever searching for her, the half of her soul that will free her form the pain in her heart. But what does she do when the roads fork into different paths and into different arms. How does she differentiate from true love and fleeting lust? Can she find the arms of her destined or will she simply doom herself and let them slip through her fingers.

Warnings: WandaVision elements used, swearing (maybe?)

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Here’s chapter 3 and we’re following our favourite little witchy! Just a shout out to @theperfectlovestory for being so patient and reading through my chapters. If you ain’t read her work, you’re missing out! As always, reblogs and feedback are welcome. Enjoy :)

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Tossing and turning, she shifts around in bed uncomfortably. Having been able to sleep the night before, exhaustion catching up to her, she is faced with another restless night. Her sleeping has improved over the months. The nights she cried to sleep was no longer a regular occurrence but she still had her difficulties.

The bed was always too unfamiliarly empty no matter how much time had passed. There was no weight by her side causing a dip in the mattress, no strong arms wrapped around her waist encasing her protectively and no cool body to nestle herself against. Her empty bed serves as just another reminder of everything she’s lost. The fates had been cruel to her, delivering her time and time again into loving arms only to rip them away from her far too soon.

Having accepted that sleep will not welcome her tonight, she looked towards the wall clock on her right. ‘It’s only four but I guess I can enjoy the quiet and watch the sunrise for a little while’ muttering to herself. She clambers out of bed throwing on a large dark blue jumper, his jumper, and a pair of jeans careful not to make any noise and stir the children next door.

She loves Clint’s children dearly and wholeheartedly. They accepted her, a stranger, as family without hesitation or fear of her abilities. Little Nate went so far as running to her with the widest grin on his face to proudly proclaim that he’s also named after her brother. This only brought happy tears to her eyes as she engulfed him in a hug. Yes, she loved them dearly and she couldn’t be more grateful to the retired archer and Laura for opening their home to her but sometimes it was too much.

The happy shrieks of laughing children reverberating off the walls, the gentle and loving touches between Laura and Clint, the pure love and pride in Clint’s eyes as he took in his family at the dinner table would sometimes be unbearable for Wanda. This was supposed to be the life she had with him. A home, he had secretly bought for them, in a place called Westview with two children at least. They would have dinner together as a family, watch their children grow up like no time has passed at all, even go trick-or-treating wearing silly family costumes. Her life would have been filled with love, laughter and warm embraces but he was gone, taking her dreams along with him.

Wanda quickly threw on her slippers and crept as quietly as possible out of the farmhouse, trying to avoid rousing the slumber of the ever attentive Hawkeye. He may need hearing aids but Wanda would bet anything that he wore them to bed to avoid being taken by surprise. One misstep on a creaky floorboard would have him rushing out with bow and arrow in hand, ready to protect his family from any intruder, only for her to flounder a lame excuse at her sneaking around at an ungodly hour.

Lady luck was on her side it would seem and she escaped the confines of the home without incident. She is instantly greeted by a cool and gentle breeze caressing her skin. She sits on the steps of the home looking up at the clear night sky as the sun teeters on the horizon, teasing the darkness with a warm glow. She lets her mind wander back to over a year ago, to the events that unfolded after her return from the now dubbed Blip.

One moment she had Vision’s lifeless body cradled against her as she sobs, only to be suddenly greeted by a strange man calling her to arms, Vision’s body nowhere to be found.

“The fate of the world needs you to come with me now if we are to have any hope in defeating Thanos” and with that he opened a portal and passed through, Wanda nipping at his heels.

She thrust herself into the chaotic battlefield, remnants of the destroyed compound strewn about, with only one goal in mind. He took the love of her life, he took her life and he’s taken her home. Thanos has taken everything from her and now she’ll make him pay.

She flew in engaging Thanos, bombarding him with all the rage coursing through her veins. Angry, red wisps encase the tyrant threatening to rip him apart but as she was within a hair’s breadth away from finding her revenge, hell fire reigned from the skies knocking her off her feet. The battle for the gauntlet waged on being passed from Avenger to Avenger in hopes of getting it to some rickety van in the distance.

When all hope seemed to be lost, the gauntlet fixed around Thanos’s hand once again with an arrogant line about inevitability escaping his lips, their one and only chance arrived.

“Stark! Now!” a sound shouts commandingly before a woman encompassed in light crashes into the purple titan throwing him back. In the few moments after the order, Tony flew into action and disabled the gauntlet remotely allowing it to fall from Thanos’s hand and to wrap itself around the ready fist of Captain Marvel.

“Yeah, I don’t think so” she retorts with a head tilt and a cocky grin painted on her face. ‘Snap’ the battlefield is once again being covered in ash but it is Thanos’s army that is falling to dust with himself crumbling soon after. Being exposed to gamma radiation in space for years and receiving power from the space stone made her more resilient to the after effects of using the infinity stones. Painful as it was, she would recover.

Wanda on the other hand wasn’t sure she would recover herself. Not only had she lost Vision and her home, in what felt like a matter of fleeting moments, she lost the chance at avenging him by her own hands. ‘He’s gone, this will have to be good enough’ she finally relents to herself.

It was only after the battle had ended, when Bruce and Captain Marvel, she later learned, had been tended to that she found out the true price of her, and the half the universe’s return. Natasha Romanoff had given her life in exchange for the soul stone, she gave her life so the world could be set right.

The icy cold Black Widow had held her at arms-length after Wanda had entered the older woman’s mind at Ultron’s behest. At the battle of Sokovia Wanda tried to remedy her mistake and prove herself but lost her first home and the life of her brother, Pietro, instead. Clint quickly took it upon himself to care for the young witch and urged Natasha to give Wanda a chance. He believed she already paid a heavy price for her mistake, she doesn’t need to be punished anymore.

With many gruelling training sessions under the watchful eye of the Black Widow, a tentative bond slowly grew, one of mentorship and then eventually friendship. Natasha grew to care for Wanda like a younger sister, although she would never out rightly admit of her fondness to the other Avengers. Wanda learnt to appreciate that the harshness delivered in Natasha’s training had served to keep Wanda alive, to give her the tools to protect herself from their dangerous job.

She had lost another loved one, Natasha on a planet and in a time she couldn’t reach, she needed to get one of them back. She approached the only man she knew that would have the unending finances to find Vision’s body. Although she still doesn’t trust Tony Stark, his hubris being the reason for her parents’ death and then his pride being the reason she was locked away in the Raft like an animal, she believed that his intentions were only ever good, even if his methods were questionable at best. He swore on his daughter’s life, much to the surprise of Wanda only having learnt of Morgan, that he would find Vision for her. She will try to trust him once more.

The compound needed to be rebuilt and Stark needed to build another time machine so that the stones could be returned to their original time, cutting off the branches, at least that’s what was explained to her.

It took no time at all, considering Stark’s wealth and that the world was also eternally grateful for the return of their loved ones, for the Avengers compound to be rebuilt. Surprisingly, especially to Stark, she continued to stay at the cabin whilst the new time machine was being built. She couldn’t possibly go back to the compound with both her love and her sister being gone.

“Please bring her back, I can’t lose anyone else. I don’t know what I’d do” she pleads with her arms around the super soldier. She pulls back from their embrace, tears threatening to fall.

“I’ll bring her back Wanda, whatever it takes” Steve promises with finality and with a gentle squeeze of her hand, he steps into the portal.

Wanda stood there with bated breath, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself. She squeezes herself tightly as if holding back a terrible force and its impending explosion from within, should Steve fail. It isn’t until Bruce speaks that she tempts fate by opening her eyes, fixed on the platform once more.

“5…4…3…2…1. Ha! It worked!” he yelps, fisting the air with joy.

Wanda couldn’t believe the sight in front of her, Steve kept his word. Forest green eyes land on hazel green ones. She wasn’t too sure what happened, one moment she was standing and the next moment, she was crumpled on the floor sobbing. She finally let the tears free fall, allowing the anguish, loss and small reprieve to wash over her. ‘She came back, someone came back’ a mantra repeating itself in her mind begging to be believed.

With all the agility and grace attributed to the Widow, Natasha leapt out of Steve’s arms to engulf the younger woman in hers. As is always in the Avengers’ lives, the joy of a win is forever marred with sorrow at the cost of gaining it.

The compound having already been built, Wanda finally returned with Natasha by her side. The Avengers home was no longer filled with mirth as it once was, trauma, loss and exhaustion hangs heavy in the air. Clint had chosen to stay at the compound temporarily, with his family, to spend time with Wanda and Natasha. Tony and Rhodey chose to retire, Captain Marvel had long since returned to space but promised to visit when she was in the galaxy, Thor chose to leave the Avengers to join The Guardians in space and Vision was gone.

It was a week after Natasha’s return, a week at the compound that Wanda finally got the call she so desperately needed.

“Hey witchy, how are you liking the new digs?” Tony jokes. Wanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes as anger began bubbling beneath the surface.

“I am not in the mood for your jokes Stark” her thick Sokovian accent slipping past the cracks of her control.

Tony lets out a heavy sigh before responding. “OK kid, this isn’t a social call. I promised I’d find him but I don’t think you’re gonna like what I’m about to tell you” he tries carefully.

Her eyes are consumed with whirls of red while her hand holds the phone in a vice-like grip. “Where is he Stark?” she says through gritted teeth.

“I tried to get his body released to me this morning, but they refused. I could spend every dime I have and liquidate all my assets, they still won’t let him go claiming that he is government property since he signed the Accords.” frustration clear in his voice.

“I will get the best lawyers on the case but it will take time be…”

“Where” she interrupts with a bite in her tone.

“S.W.O.R.D”

After the events of meeting Hayward and seeing what he had done to Vision, Wanda knew she had two choices. She opted for the latter. She called Natasha as soon as she left S.W.O.R.D’s offices making her way back to her car.

“Wanda, what’s going on? You ran…” Before she could finish her questioning, she is interrupted by Wanda’s broken voice.

“S.W.O.R.D have Vision’s body and they wouldn’t let me take him home to bury him. They’re tearing him apart like an OBJECT! He gave his LIFE and they won’t even let what’s left of him find PEACE!” her anger is replaced by breaking sobs wracking through her body, ending her ability to speak any further.

“Come home now. Clint and I will fix it” She commands calmly and confidently.

Just as Wanda was the female assassin’s younger sister, she was also the archer’s daughter. No-one messes with the two deadly assassins’ family and escapes unscathed.

True to the Widow name, Natasha seduced and hacked her way into S.W.O.R.D’s data server and extracted details on questionable S.W.O.R.D activities including Hayward’s isolated server with files and data on his less than legal proclivities.

Clint, being true to his ethos, was crawling through S.W.O.R.D ventilation shafts, planting well placed audio and visual recording devices, courtesy of Stark himself.

With all the pieces at hand, Natasha only needed the perfect person for the execution. Her love for Wanda saw her doing the unimaginable for the first time. She asked for help.

“Maria, I need you to do something for me. I need you to get Vision’s body from S.W.O.R.D. Clint and I have all the data you’ll need to make it happen” her steady voice not betraying the pounding in her heart.

“Why would I get on S.W.O.R.D’S radar exactly?” Maria responds emotionlessly. She would have done it without question of course, but she can’t let Natasha know that. After all, she has a reputation to maintain.

“Because I will owe you a favour” Natasha retorts through clenched teeth. A pregnant pause fills the air before Maria responds.

“Send me everything you have and give me 48 hours” without another word, Maria ends the call and Natasha releases a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding.

Maria, always a woman of her word, saw to it that 48 hours later Vision’s body was being returned to Wanda at the compound under S.H.I.E.L.D escort. Wanda may not have given her lover the death that he asked of her nor the vengeance that he was owed, but she could give him the burial that he deserved and the farewell she needed.

All the Avengers, including Rhodey, Tony and Thor, returned one last time to pay their respects, to honour their fallen ally and friend. Wanda laid to rest the love of her life and yet another piece of her heart.

“You know, you still aren’t as quiet as Nat” he teases taking a seat on the step beside her. “Penny for your thoughts?” he gently prods.

“Thinking about him” Wanda whispers, still unable to say Vision’s name since the funeral. “Thinking about what you, Nat and even Tony have done for me since”

He turns to look at the young woman and sees not only pain in her eyes, but a steady determination that wasn’t there before. He keeps quiet, allowing her to gather her thoughts without interruption.

“I think…no, I know I’m ready to go home Clint” she says with growing confidence. She finally turns to face the archer. She sees time, suffering and loss etched on his aging face but those are all muted by the brightness in his blue-grey eyes full of love and pride.

Wanda has survived the loss of her parents, her brother, her first home and her lover. She’s tired of surviving and she is finally ready to go home to start living.

“I’ll tell Nat so she can get a jet ready and prepared for you” and with that, they spend the last few moments together, sitting in silence and basking in the warm glow of the sunrise full of hope and gentle promises.

Chapter Four

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jasontoddiefor · 5 years ago

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Title: Robin’s Requirements Summary: The name’s Robin,” the kid said with Dick’s smirk and Jason’s accent. Bruce felt ice crawl up his veins. He was going to throw up.Robin number three wasn’t human and Bruce didn’t know how keep going after Jason’s death. They make it work (after a rough start). AN: I decided to put up all the chapters I’ve posted of this story so far in proper order on tumblr since some people prefer reading here. Here’s the AO3 link to the story! I update weekly!

Chapter 1

Summer in Gotham was almost unbearable. The smoke and ashes lingering in the air mixed with the heat radiated from the asphalt to create an atmosphere that made it difficult to breathe or even just move in. In-between the tall skyscrapers and the houses squished into spaces much too small for them, you got the closest you could be to the experience of boiling to death without actually dying.

Winter may freeze your limbs, break away one finger after another, but summer’s heat, similar to the blast of an explosion, burned away your skin.

The summer nights appeared to be the much kinder, softer counterpart to the day time for the poor creatures who had to make their way through dark alleys.

It was a farce.

Gotham wasn’t kind, she hadn’t been in a long time.

The coolness of the darkness lulled you into a false sense of security. You were exhausted already, scared of the shadows too maybe if you weren’t used to them, or if you knew what lingered beyond them, but at least death didn’t await you in the sun’s divine punishment.

A logical but wrong assumption.

Grim hunters stalked the dark, waiting for you to slip up, to make a mistake.

Or at least, they used to be there to sink their teeth into you.

For the longest time Gotham had been protected by three guardians, predators, but nowadays you only ever spotted one of them, and if you did, you were better off to slice your own throat, or so they said.

Nobody had ever attempted to deny that meetings with the Bat could get bloody, especially if you provoked him. Still, they didn’t used to look like a war zone, entrails spread over the grey asphalt as empty eyes judged you for all the horrors you committed. The Bat used to be kinder, more forgiving, more understanding.

He wasn’t anymore. He had broken like Gotham had so many decades ago.

He still protected the weak, the needy, the helpless, but he no longer fought for the damned.

Instead of being their ferryman, he brought them directly to hell. It wasn’t death, not yet, but by the time he was done, you would wish for it.

People wondered what had changed right up until the Joker nearly choked on his acid laughter in the Bat’s arms, laughing about little songbirds cut up so badly you couldn’t tell the red of their feather coat from their blood.

It made sense then that the Bat would start to lose control. Everybody knew that the little Robin was off-limits. You try to could hurt and maim him, or break him for sure, these were the rules of the streets, and if he wanted to fly through them, he had to acknowledge them, but only ever as long as the Bat was your actual target.

You did not target Robin, Gotham loved him.

(There was a price to be paid for his death.)

“Duke, honey, it’s time for bed!”

“I know, Mom! Just five more minutes!”

Duke Thomas considered himself to be a regular ten-year-old. He loved video games, Star Wars, his Mom’s cooking, his Dad’s jokes, and, above everything, Robin Spotting. It was so much fun to stay up late, hoping to catch a glimpse of that colorful uniform or hear the joyful laughter.

Duke had actually seen Robin once too, on his fire escape. The hero had smiled at him and then put his index finger on his lips, indicating for Duke to be silent. Caught up in his excitement, Duke hadn’t even been able to speak to the hero or do anything but stand at his window, jumping up and down. He had watched as Batman caught up with Robin and the duo had flown away, Robin pretty much glued to Batman’s side.

The alley beneath Duke’s window was dark and dirty, but the heroes had been able to light it up.

And now Robin was gone.

Duke couldn’t believe it.

The police hadn’t said anything about Robin’s disappearance. Duke checked the news every day when his parents weren’t watching him too closely, lest they start thinking he wanted to watch those instead of his cartoons, hoping to hear about something interesting that wasn’t economics. However, the papers had plenty to say about Robin. His Mom called them ‘gossip rags Duke was better off not paying too much attention to’, but he had read them regardless.

The papers claimed Robin was dead, said that the Joker had killed him.

Duke was sure they were lying.

Robin was magical, Robin couldn’t die.

(But the Joker rarely appeared to be human either.)

Maybe somebody just had to remind Robin that he was still needed here. Duke sometimes got so caught up in his thoughts, he forgot to do his homework. It was probably something similar for Robin

“Duke, lights out!” His Dad said when he passed by Duke’s room.

“Just one more minute!” Duke pleaded, not even looking up from his desk.

“Alright, alright.” Dad laughed. “But you have to tell me what you’re writing.”

He entered the room and stepped closer to take a look at the sheet of paper Duke had been writing on, but Duke quickly pulled it to his chest to hide his scribbles.

“No! You can’t see it! It will take away the magic.”

You didn’t show your parents the letter for Santa either, or it wouldn’t get to Santa. Of course, the latter wasn’t real, but Robin was. And honestly, there were rules about this kind of magic – his parents should know them.

Dad just raised his hands in defeat, still smiling in amusement.

“Okay, buddy, but tomorrow you have to share with the class.”

Duke frowned, unsure whether that would be enough time for Robin to get his letter.

“Later,” Duke yielded. “Once I know it worked.”

Dad’s smile softened and he patted Duke’s shoulder.

“Only one more minute, then bedtime. You have school tomorrow and I don’t want to get another call about you falling asleep in class.”

Duke huffed, but couldn’t hide his happy smile. “That was only once!”

“Once enough. Sleep well, kid.”

“Night, Dad.”

Dad walked out of Duke’s room, closing the door behind him so that Duke was staring at the Justice League poster pinned to the wood. Batman needed Robin, so Duke would remind the short hero that he had to come home.

He quickly finished his letter, packed it in transparent cover, and hid it away in his Super Secret Special box. It was actually just a shoebox he had painted yellow and orange and decorated with plastic gemstones, but Duke loved it. Then he turned off the light and crawled into his bed. Duke took his alarm clock from the nightstand and set the alarm for a few minutes before midnight. He wasn’t sure whether twelve o’clock really was the right time, but it seemed very important in a lot of movies, so Duke figured if he had to choose, he might as well go with this time. If he succeeded, he’d maybe write to the police as well, tell them how to contact Robin since the Bat-signal only worked for Batman.

Falling asleep when he was so nervous turned out to be a chore. It felt just like the evenings before his birthday when he could hear the blood rushing through his ears and it kept him awake for as long as possible.

Duke managed to sink into sleep sometime after his parents had gone to bed as well. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d drifted off right until his alarm rang again and Duke woke up startled. Tiredly, Duke crawled out of his bed and put on his socks to minimize the sound he made. He picked put the box and began tonight’s journey.

When he opened the door, he winced at the jarring sound. Even if he tried to be as slow as possible, the door refused to stay silent. Duke halted to listen if his parents still slept. His father’s snoring turned out to be a rather practical way of measuring it. Thankfully, his parents also didn’t wake when Duke stole the house keys out of his mother’s purse. With his box in hand, Duke sneaked out of the apartment and headed towards the stairs leading up to the rooftop.

The air inside the staircase was stuffy, receiving no circulation whatsoever. On tiptoes, Duke walked past the doors of his neighbors, being exceptionally careful when he passed the apartment of Ms. Norrington. She was, in the words of his usually calm and kind mother, a mean old witch, except she hadn’t said witch, but another word starting with a ‘b’ that Duke was too frightful to repeat. The old lady and her ugly little dog always watched Duke and his friend with her mean big blue eyes, especially when they were carrying toys. In Ms. Norrington’s opinion, there was nothing more terrible than children playing and having fun. One of these days, she wouldn’t even wait until Duke had made a sound, she’d just snatch his football away as soon as she would spot him. Therefore Duke needed to pass her without alarming her.

One step, another, a third and a fourth and Duke had done it. Victoriously, he rushed up the remaining staircases to the rooftop. If his parents knew that he was up here, they’d ground him for sure. None of the kids in the apartment block were supposed to go upstairs because the fence surrounding the roof hadn’t been fixed in ages and someone could get hurt or, even worse, fall off the roof when playing.

Duke thought it was stupid. He wouldn’t ever be dumb enough to fall off a house. However, that hadn’t stopped the adults from locking the door between Duke and his goal. But for that purpose, Duke had snatched his mother’s keys. His own keyring only had the keys for the front and backdoor, one for his bike and one for his Cousin’s home. His mother, on the other hand, did possess a key for the top door.

The lock was rusty and the key wouldn’t turn properly when Duke tried to open it. Duke bit on his tongue in concentration as he twisted the key multiple times until finally, after what felt like ages, the door clicked and opened.

Duke slowly closed it behind himself again, as to avoid the wind pushing it into the lock again with a loud BAM! Certainly, old Ms. Norrington would wake from that. Duke would just have to hurry and be finished before she managed to get out of bed, put on her pink shoes, ugly old and gray bathrobe and made it to the door.

Gotham was an ugly city according to the news, but Duke had long since learned not to trust them. Sure, the city could be a bit cleaner, but monuments like the shining WE building or the green Robinson park in the distance were signs that Gotham wasn’t as shitty as people claimed. The breeze here up on the rooftop was quite enjoyable too. They should tell their landlord to repair the fence quickly so that Duke could play Batman and Robin with his friends up here. That would be way cooler than going to the playground. Here they would be up on a real rooftop and didn’t have to pretend the monkey bars were the top of the Crystal Palace. Thinking of his two heroes, Duke reminded himself of his mission.

He looked around for the best spot to put his letter and settled on the water tank. A short ladder was leading up to it and so, with his box secured under his arms, Duke began to climb. He slipped nearly once or twice, but always managed to catch himself at the last second.

Once he reached the top, he allowed himself to sit down just to catch a quick breath. He was working on a schedule after all.

Duke set his box down next to him and took off the cover, revealing his letter to Robin and his most prized possession: a Batarang.

He’d found it in the trash a while ago and ever since he had the supreme right to always play Batman if he wanted to. He hadn’t told his parents about it because he knew they’d take it away, even if Duke didn’t take it outside his room usually. Why would he? He didn’t want it to get stolen by others!

Duke reached for the Batarang and then traced its edges with his fingers. It was still sharp, if he wasn’t careful he’d cut himself.

Duke didn’t have a Bat-signal, but he also didn’t want to attract that much attention. He was sure that if he just scratched something in the wooden surface of the water tank, Robin would spot it sooner or later. With the sharp side of the weapon, Duke began to scratch a big R into the wood. He made sure his carvings were deep enough that they’d be seen from above.

Then, with as much might as Duke could measure up, he rammed the Batarang through his letter into the wood so that it wouldn’t just fly away when left unsupervised.

There, his work was done.

Content with himself, Duke allowed himself to observe Gotham for a little while longer, forgetting Ms. Norrington for a moment. He wouldn’t get a sight as neat as this one again in a long while.

Duke climbed down from the water tank and returned inside. He made it past Ms. Norrington’s door and slipped into his apartment and room, his parents still sound asleep and none the wiser of Duke’s little adventure.

Yawning, Duke pulled his blanket over his head. It was sad that he had to give up his Batarang, but maybe he’d get a new one once Robin returned. And Duke didn’t mind playing other heroes.

After all, now it was really just a question of time.

Beneath him, the city was wide awake, even during such late hours. He should probably return to the Cave for tonight, he didn’t have any supplies besides the one lone Batarang. While he was sure that his wit alone would suffice to support Batman, a utility belt filled with all kinds of tricky equipment would be immense support, never mind much more fun.

He was already on the move, heading home for the first time, when Gotham started screaming for help. Her shouts spoke of fear, of a terrified mother scared for her children’s safety.

Somebody was threatening her - who?

Batman wouldn’t approve of it, he was sure, but generally speaking, it wasn’t his job to listen to Batman. He was there to support the Bat and, more importantly, keep Gotham safe. He couldn’t do that from the Cave.

With a wild grin, he jumped from the rooftop, executing a perfect landing on the balcony of the next house. Quickly he moved forward, making his way through the cold September air to come to Gotham’s aid.

He was Robin.

He had been born for this.

#dc #batman #bruce wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #Alfred Pennyworth #fanfic #robin's requirements #dc comics

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themusicplayedherlife · 6 years ago

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I Know What You Did

pairings: Bruce Wayne x Reader

characters: Reader, Bruce Wayne, Dinah Laurel Lance, Diana Prince

word count: 1428

warnings: simple injury, implied sexual content (like a line or two), but just fluff, like dumb amount of fluff

a/n: @forevans and i did another fic trade/challenge and this time i got bruce wayne and the prompts: [text] I know what you did last summer… + “On a scale from, ’I can sometimes make important phone calls without crying’ to ’I have a stable job with a steady income, a spouse who loves me, a dog, and two kids who are screwed up minimally at worst’, how much of an adult are you?”

forevans prompt w/ chris evans: counting our time in dog years

Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised that after keeping what you did a secret from him, that it would come up sooner or later, especially when he enjoys the extracurricular on his off time. To your defense, he had waited a whole fucking year to bring it up and you had allowed yourself to fall into false security.

A rookie mistake.

Batty Bat 🦇: I know what you did last summer.

Batty Bat 🦇: I wasn’t going to mention it because I thought there was no reason to, but you’re doing it again, aren’t you?

Y/N ❤: Doing what? Having fun? Cause I am having fun!

Batty Bat 🦇: I can teach you better than those instructors, you know?

You look over at your companions and send them a glare that they disregard with a smile—traitors must have let it slip somehow.

Batty Bat 🦇: I’d be helping you every step of the way. My hands guiding you, pushing you.

Batty Bat 🦇: Don’t you want that?

You feel the ghost of Bruce’s hands on your hips, caressing and teasing as they draw closer and closer to your aching—no! No. No. No! He’s playing you! Trying to psych you out and you won’t let him!

Swatting away the thought, you send him one last text and hand your phone over to Diana to start strapping yourself into the harness.

Y/N ❤ : What are you talking about, babe ?????

“Why don’t you come clean?” Laurel asks, crossing her toned arms over her chest.

“Because,” you start, grunting when you tighten the harness properly like you were taught last year, “he’ll know how much it bothers me that I can’t beat him.”

“I think he knows that already,” Laurel teases.

“I think it’s admirable that you want to better yourself,” Diana says with a smile as you make your way over to the wall with colorful handles. “But I wish you’d be doing it for yourself.”

You think back on the day Bruce first took you climbing and how horrible you were at it, and how he had found it cute that you couldn’t pull yourself up. That ass! He’s the superhero or vigilante or whatever! You’re just a regular old office worker that happens to occasionally help him and his team with their activities when you have time, and only if a computer is involved.

“I am!” You answer back, carefully placing one foot on the handle and then gripping another, pulling yourself up. “If I get better, then I beat Bruce at something for once and that—that would make me happy.”

Laurel laughs. “I just don’t understand why you only practice during the summer. If you had kept up training all of last year, this year you could’ve most likely been able to keep up with Bruce, maybe even go rope free.”

You keep yourself concentrated on the handles, only making sure to grab onto the ones that you know are sturdy enough to hold your weight, but it doesn’t stop you from answering her. “If it’s not Wayne Enterprises taking up my time, it’s the Wayne Foundation. At least during the summer I can take a couple of days off and force Bruce and Lucius to cover for me—” you squeak, losing your footing for a moment. Regaining your balance with the cheers of your friends, you let out a relieved sigh.

But your relief is short lived, another misplace and slippery hand has you pushing away from the wall and, while for a moment you might think you’re safe because of your harness, you’re coming loose from the only hold you had. Before Diana can catch you or any of the instructors can rush over and help you, you’ve already landed on the padded floor, and on your wrist.

“Are you all right?” Diana asks as soon as you sit up with a wince, checking you for injuries.

You try waving her away, but a burning pain prevents you from making any sudden movements. “I think I sprained my wrist.”

Laurel and Diana both share a look, staring at eachother for what seems like forever until Laurel backs away with a sigh. “I’ll call Bruce.”

“Did you not fasten the harness?” Diana scolds you, helping you up. She tells an attendant to call for a car, and they rush to the front to do so.

You cradle your injured hand to your chest. ”I thought I did. Guess not.” Giving Diana a cheeky smile, you say, “At least, I didn’t fall on my head, right?”

She rolls her eyes.

You’re putting on your jacket when you hear footsteps rushing into your room. Thinking it’s Diana or Laurel, you turn ready to chastise them for running, only to come short when you see it’s not either of them, but Bruce looking disheveled in a plain button up and jeans.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him, completely surprised to see him here of all places. Isn’t he supposed to be at the fundraiser you had scheduled months ago?

He takes long strides to reach your bed in record time. His dark, blue eyes aren’t on you, but on your arm that’s been wrapped up and bandaged. “You didn’t get hurt anywhere else?”

“No, I—“

“Are you sure? Did they look you over properly—“

“Bruce—“

“I can have them transfer you to a better—“

“Bruce!” He snaps his gaze away from your arm and to your face, you reach for him with your good hand and he leans down close enough for you to caress his jaw. “I’m okay, babe. I promise. In fact, I can go as soon as the nurses come back with the discharge papers.”

He sighs and leans into your touch, trapping your hand between his jaw and his larger hand, but a smile breaks through his worried expression—his radiant smile full of love and adoration that is only reserved for you in your moments of privacy. “On a scale from, ’I can sometimes make important phone calls without crying’ to ’I have a stable job with a steady income, a spouse who loves me, a dog, and two kids who are screwed up minimally at worst’, how much of an adult are you? Really?”

You know he’s only teasing, and so you let out a scandalizes gasp and twist your hand free from his hold. “Excuse you?”

He lets your hand go, but not without an affectionate squeeze. “Trying to one up me? Really?”

“Hey! It’s just not fair that you’re good at everything, Bruce. I mean look at you, Jesus,” you say, rubbing your free hand all over his well toned stomach and trail a finger up to his chest where he once again traps your hand over his heart. “Good looking, athletic, rich, and smart? Not to mention kind, generous, charismatic and brooding all in one? How is that even possible ?”

He chuckles and presses his lips to your forehead. “Only you get to see all those sides of me.”

You quirk an eyebrow and wiggle your ring finger in his hold. “I would hope so, I didn’t say yes just for you to shut me out.”

“Never,” he says, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “Now, as soon as you heal, no more sneaking off to rock climb in secret. We’re doing it together next time. Deal?”

You pretend to think about it before sending him a small smile. “Deal.”

After being discharged and saying goodbye to Diana and Laurel, who have decided to stay to enjoy the perks of a fully funded trip, you and Bruce get in a car that’ll take you home.

“How did you get here anyway?” His expression morphs into that of him wearing his dark knight mask—stoic and you know he’s hiding something. Except, what would he be—your eyes widen. “Oh my god. You followed me didn’t you? That's how you knew what I was doing last summer, isn’t it? You followed me last year too!” And here you thought he was taking care of the company! Who’s the responsible adult now?

“I didn’t mean to. The boys wanted to go on a trip and I thought coming here would be fun. You never even told me where you were going, so I was just as surprised as you when I saw you at the gym, and in the climbing area no less. Figured you were trying to keep it a secret.

You groan, throwing your head back. “I’m calling off our wedding.”

He chuckles and kisses you softly, gently. “I love you too.”

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #reader insert #bruce wayne #batman imagine #bruce wayne one shot

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jakkosisle · 6 years ago

Text

The Battle For Lordaeron: Part V - Momentum

By the time Jakko and Spritzie made it to the Southern Courtyard, there were plenty of Horde, but no Alliance. Jakko tapped a random dreadguard on the shoulder. “Yo - where’s the Alliance?” he asked.

“They haven’t reached us yet.” the dreadguard replied. “Last I heard, Windseeker Durja and his forces managed to intercept them. They’re buying us time to prepare.

Jakko nodded and jogged over to where Spritzie was - chatting up with Soozee as the latter powered up her void-buster mech.

“There you are.” Spritzie said as she twirled her rifle. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Jakko said as he withdrew his swords. He spied Johriah riding up and down the line atop his deathcharger, addressing his troops.

“Stand ready! The Alliance will be here any minute now!” he shouted.

It was then that a pair of large bats flew towards Johriah on the battle lines, morphing back into troll druids. “Da Alliance be comin’!” one of them shouted.

“Where’s Durja?” Johriah asked.

“Dead. His entire force got wiped out.” the druid said. “We da only ones who got away.”

“He held ‘em back as long as he could.” the other druid said. “But…Lady Proudmoore is wit’ dem! She be powerful and she be pissed and she be comin’ our way!” the other druid panicked. The death knight slapped him with the flat of his sword.

“Get a hold of yourself, man!” Johriah barked. He turned to the rest of his platoon. “Do not lose heart! We still have the advantage here! This is where we shall stand our ground! For the Horde!”

“FOR THE HORDE!” the crowd echoed.

The Horde army waited nervously for the Alliance to arrive, checking and rechecking their weapons. Then, the Alliance poured into the courtyard, charging into the Horde lines. The Horde charged right back. The two armies clashed hard in the middle of the courtyard.

Spritzie was in the thick of it, cutting down Alliance troops with her shotgun, howling in fury. Her riverbeast, Bruce, was impaled by Alliance pikes - a death that did not go unavenged. She spared the animal’s body a brief glance before whirling around on the Alliance and firing more. Sorry, Bruce, but I don’t have time to grieve you. Right now, mama’s got a battle to win…

Elsewhere along the front, Soozee laughed maniacally as her void buster decimated the Alliance soldiers. Humans and dwarves fled before her as the mech hounded them with bullets and void bolts. Soozee paused in her megalomania to check her mech’s readings - the Void Buster had never been pushed this far before, so she worried it might overload. But according to the readings, everything was operating within acceptable parameters. Satisfied that there was no immediate danger of that, she resumed her maniacal cackling.

As Jakko disemboweled a particularly unlucky kaldorei ranger, he paused and looked around, taking stock of the battle. He could see massive explosions of fire and ice on the other side of the courtyard - Jaina Proudmoore, no doubt. Jakko had no intention of getting that close to the legendary mage - she was someone else’s problem as far as he was concerned. Despite Proudmoore’s presence, the Horde was holding the line surprisingly well. Maybe this battle could still be won, but Jakko remembered what happened last time he got his hopes up. He was still ready to grab his sisters and make a break for it the moment things go tits up.

And it seemed that moment was upon them, as a large, dark portal suddenly appeared on the Alliance’s side of the battle, elves leaping out and joining the fray, along with several gnomish war machines. “Oh fuck, are those what I think they are…?” he muttered to himself. And sure enough, the way they ‘glowed’ black, as oxymoronic as that sounds, made it impossible to mistake the newcomers for anything else.

“Void elves…” Soozee growled as her mech stomped up to Jakko’s side, confirming the druid’s fear. Her machine’s wrists twirled and its claws flexed, ready to grab something. “The Alliance must be getting desperate if they’re calling in THEM. Damn the High King, he doesn’t realize he’s playing with fire!”

This was bad - between the gnomish ordinance and the void elves’ unnatural powers, the Horde forces were getting torn to shreds. If somebody didn’t do something about them and soon, it wouldn’t be long before the Alliance breaks through the defenses and wins.

Jakko had to do something.

“Keep those void suckers away from Spritzie! I got an idea!” Jakko said as he morphed into a bat and flew off.

“Roger that!” Soozee said as her void-buster’s engines revved up. She’d been meaning to study the ren’dorei for months now, and this was the perfect opportunity to ‘collect some samples.’

“Peekaboo!” Tendalel shouted as he appeared behind a tauren that Marbelma had been locked in melee with, thrusting both daggers into the massive creature’s spine before it fell over like a great felled tree. “Hey kid - miss me?”

“Tendalel?” Marbelma asked. “What are you doin’ here? I thought SI:7 was done with this battle.”

“SI:7 was, but not the ren’dorei.” Ten answered. “After you guys started assaulting the main gate, Alleria herself rallied the void elves together to form a cavalry force, should things go tits up.” He then looked around the courtyard. “Which evidently, they have.”

Indeed, even with Proudmoore by their side, the Horde wasn’t budging an inch. The Alliance was beginning to run out of steam and the attack would’ve failed. But with the timely arrival of the ren’dorei, the Alliance forces had been granted a second wind. They’ll yet win this fight!

It was then that Tendalel noticed a large, modified goblin shredder charing into the ren’dorei forces, trying to grab someone in its claws. He patted the young dwarf on the head. “Keep your head down, kid.” he said as he disappeared into shadow - he’d always had a talent for stealth as a blood elf, but the talent was taken to new heights by his recently-granted powers over darkness.

He leapt onto the mech’s back and ripped off a panel, looking inside at all the internal circuitry. “Okay, uh…..This looks important!” he said as he grabbed a red wire and ripped it out. The mech didn’t cease its assault, but the canopy DID open to reveal its goblin pilot. Awesome, now he just needed to climb inside, kill the pilot, and presto - no more mech. He climbed up the mech’s back…

Only to get hit by a void bolt its pilot had somehow conjured. The force of the impact knocked him off the mech and tumbling across the ground, but the rogue was quick to recover. The goblin turned her mech around to stare him down.

“You, my friend, have just volunteered to be my new test subject!” the pilot shouted. Tendalel didn’t know what that meant, but it probably wasn’t anything good. This was confirmed by the machine gun on the mech’s wrist unloading on him - he ripped open a spatial rift to get out of the way and into cover behind a fallen pillar.

“You think your void powers will save you?!” the goblin shrieked. “Well, you void elves aren’t the only ones with power over the Void!” she fired a round of missiles at the pillar, obliterating it. Ten leapt just before the missiles detonated, but he felt the blast area tinged with an energy that he was, by now, intimately familiar with.

“Were those VOID missiles?” he shouted back.

“Yes!” the goblin replied.

“I didn’t even know you could MAKE missiles with Void!” Tendalel shouted.

“Of course you don’t!” the goblin replied. “I’ve been studying the Void for YEARS! I had to WORK for my power over it, while you were just HANDED your power on a SILVER PLATTER!”

“I sense a bit of jealousy.” Tendalel said.

“You void elves are like children with guns!” Soozee replied. “You’ve no true RESPECT for the Void’s powers!”

“I respect it enough to know how to do this.” Ten quipped before disappearing into another spatial rift.

“Hey! Stop doing that!” the goblin demanded.

While Soozee was keeping the void elves busy, Jakko flew up to the bastion where Stoneheart landed. The hippogryph was still there, and even still had those five bombs attached! Perfect! He morphed back into his troll form and mounted the beast and snapped the reigns. The feathermane cried before hopping off his perch and flying back to the courtyard.

Jakko flew over a crowd of void elves firing void bolts at the Horde forces where he dropped one of the bombs. The bomb detonated in a shower of fire, shrapnel, and bits of purple goo that used to be ren’dorei. The druid cheered. “Take that, shadow-suckers!”

Satisfied with having taken a good chunk out of the ren’dorei’s numbers, Jakko flew over to rest of the Alliance front, dropping another bomb, this time on the regular Alliance infantry that were coming in Spritzie’s direction. Another detonation and bits of armor and gore erupted into the air. “Spritzie! Get outta there!” Jakko shouted.

“No!” Spritzie shouted back. “If I run now, they all died for nothing! I’m seeing this through to the end!”

The ground shook with the force of the explosions that killed the ren’dorei and Stormwind footmen. “Up there!” someone shouted, pointing to a hippogryph up above them. It dropped a third bomb on top of a dwarven steam tank, destroying it. “Is that friendly fire from one of the Teldrassil riders?”

“That’s no night elf…” Marbelma growled. It was that troll that escaped her during the bombing run. The one that killed Cinderwing. Seems like he decided to finish what he started. She looked around, looking for an elevated position - she spotted a wall that was partially collapsed. Perfect!

She ran for the collapsed wall and started hopping up. One wouldn’t think of dwarves as being particularly agile climbers, but one doesn’t survive long in the mountains without being sure-footed. The dwarf hopped, skipped, and jumped her way up the pile of rubble onto the battlements, where a squadron of undead archers were giving the Horde covering fire.

Marbelma swung her hammer in a wide, horizontal arc, blasting a wave of fiery light at the archers, reducing them to ash before they even realized she was there. She stood on top of the bastions and watched the hippogryph. “Come on…come on…” she muttered as she conjured a hammer of light in her hand.

…Now!

She tossed the hammer at the hippogryph.

Jakko’s little bombing campaign was going well enough. He only had two bombs left though, so he had to choose his targets-

CLANG!

A glowing hammer flew out of nowhere and struck Stoneheart right on the head. The unconscious hippogryph began falling like a brick, towards one of the walls that separated the southern courtyard from the rest of the city. The hippogryph landed on the wall with a crash, skidding across the floor until finally slowing to a stop halfway along the wall.

Jakko growled out a few choice curses in goblin. He took he landing hard and nearly everything hurt. He rolled sat up and rolled his shoulders trying to soothe his aching muscles. He checked on his hippogryph. “Stoneheart?” he asked. “You okay?”

He wasn’t okay.

Stoneheart’s beak hung open while his eyes fogged. He checked his neck for a pulse, only to find the neck was broken. The flying hammer didn’t knock him out. It killed him. It killed a noble beast that had been serving him since the Cataclysm.

“Sorry, buddy.” he said as he closed the beast’s eyes.

Piksap. Marbelma heard that word before. The first time she heard this troll said it, she thought it couldn’t possibly be him. But after hearing it again, clearer this time without the din of battle to drown it out, it was unmistakable.

For the first time in years, her blood ran cold.

The troll stood up and looked over his shoulder, staring down the dwarf paladin, who now had her hammer out. “…Okay.” the troll said in decent common In a goblin accent, no less. No doubts now, he was definitely the one. “I get it. I kill your hippogryph, you kill mine. So, we even?”

“Not even close!” Marbelma shouted. “Ten years ago, you ruined my life! And now, as a reward for my faithful service to honor and duty, the Light has blessed me with this - my chance for revenge.”

“…The fuck are you talking about?” the troll asked.

Marbelma forcefully removed her helmet and tossed it aside, staring down the troll with a hate-filled glare.

As soon as the dwarf removed her helmet and revealed her face, his mind suddenly flooded with memories. Memories of a far more evil life.

It was back when he was a rogue, long before he heard Shirvallah’s call. He’d been hired to assassinate a captain of the Ironforge Mountaineers. He infiltrated his cabin in Dun Morogh and killed him. Two more dwarves bore witness though, so Jakko had to kill them too.

…And there was one more dwarf. A girl. Couldn’t have been older than twelve years old. Scared out of her mind, seeing the big scary troll standing over the corpses of her family. Paladin came in out of fucking nowhere, and Jakko bailed. It was one of his messier jobs.

…It was her. That same girl. Ten years older and clad in armor, but there she was.

“Just my luck.” Jakko commented aloud. He pulled down his hood and face mask, figuring that he should return the dwarf’s courtesy and reveal his own face. “I always figured one of my previous mistakes would come back to bite my ass one day. Gotta admit though, this isn’t quite how I pictured it.”

“Funny, because it’s exactly how I pictured it.” the dwarf replied. “You and I, meeting on the field of battle where you and your damned Horde finally meet your end by MY hands…”

“…Have you been practicing that speech in front of a mirror?” Jakko asked as he pulled out his swords.

“I’ve been practicin’ it for ten damn years…” the dwarf snarled before charging.

#Jakko #Marbelma #Spritzie #Roniaar #Soozee #Tendalel #World of Warcraft #Wyrmrest Accord

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lintskukka · 7 years ago

Text

Silent Nights and Rooftops

Summary: Bruce Wayne is patrolling the streets of Gotham and notices a familiar thief.

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A/N: This takes place before Bruce's meltdown.

It was a regular night. Bruce was armored in his gear given by Lucius Fox, patrolling over the streets of Gotham. Alfred was couple blocks away waiting him inside their car like a normal parent would wait their teens from friend’s house. Tracing Ra’s al Ghul had so far been fruitless. To spend time Bruce went on his regular patrols. They would make him better, he would make sure of it. He had to be on the field, focus on the mission no matter how much Alfred disliked it.

Just couple days ago he had interrupted some thief’s mission to steal from Penguin’s armed thugs. The thief nearly walked into their trap but they had managed to escape as Bruce fought with the thugs.

The mission had failed in that regard. Alfred had been mad at him for saving the thief but Bruce knew that no-one deserved to die. He had learned that the hard way. He did not regret his decision but he was afraid that the thief didn’t regret their decision either and would try again. So Bruce had kept tracks of Penguin’s movements in hopes of encountering the thief again.

His plan so far wasn’t success so Bruce had left to roll around the rooftops trying to spot any criminal activity. It was not like he was trying to wipe out all crime, well not yet anyway, but he needed something to do to get his mind off from Ra’s al Ghul.

He also was wondering how Selina was doing. They had kept their distance and Selina’s life choices were… questionable and he had said couple things to her that he later regretted. Selina had her own life to live, Bruce knew and if she wanted to keep her life separate from his then so be it. Bruce would respect her decision. But no matter how much he tried to focus his attention on somewhere else his thoughts always seemed to return to Selina.

Alfred had noticed that too and loved to tease Bruce about it. Bruce tried to solemnly focus on his new mission to protect his city, the one that he loved so dearly, but young minds are a curious thing.

Bruce had to shake himself to the current moment. It was silent night but it was still unwise to stand about on rooftops and not focus on your surroundings. Alfred would scold him on that most likely.

“Alarm went off just few blocks away from your location, Master Bruce.” Alfred announced through their com link.

“I’ll go take a look. Will the police arrive soon?” Bruce asked as he moved from roof to roof.

“Not likely. As far as I know it is only a small pet store, nothing valuable in there.” Alfred reported.

Bruce arrived to the crime scene. He saw that the door was left open and from there a small figure sneaked outside. The figure was dressed in black and carried a backpack. Bruce figured the burglar hided the stolen property there.

“I see alone figure, not carrying any weapons as far as I can see.” Bruce said. He guessed that the burglar must be either really small adult or a child, most likely one of the many street kids of Gotham. Many of them survived only through pilfering some stuff from here and there.

“As far as you can see?” Alfred snorted.

Bruce stepped down to get closer to the small burglar. It was too dark to see the person’s face but they were making their way quickly first to the nearby fire escape and then to the roof opposite to Bruce location.

“I’m going to follow them to see where they lead me.” Bruce announced to Alfred and then jumped after the burglar. He had to admit that they were moving fast and being extremely agile. Jumping between buildings is not exactly an easy thing to do and even though Bruce was used to it by now he still made some mistakes. This burglar that he was following was clearly a pro at this.

“They are good, Alfred. Seems that they know their way around the city’s rooftops.” Bruce told after getting closer to his prey. So far the burglar hadn’t noticed that they were being followed which was something that Bruce didn’t want to change.

“Seems like you could make a new friend in them then.” Alfred remarked sarcastically.

Bruce rolled his eyes but decided to stay silent. The burglar had stopped without any visible reason making Bruce believe that they had noticed him. Then the burglar removed their hood and mask, tucked them inside their backpack and opened their arms to embrace the night air of Gotham in a very familiar way.

“Selina?” Bruce asked out loud, surprised. It seemed that even when they were somewhat avoiding each other they still kept running into each other.

“Ah, not again.” Alfred sounded tired.

Bruce should have guessed since he first saw her leave the pet store. She was probably getting stuff to her pets. The small size, the agile movements… it was obvious.

Selina kept standing still, arms wide open letting the wind ruffle her messy brown hair around making it seem even wilder than usual. Then she took a step forwards and disappeared from Bruce’s line of sight.

“Well, are you going to go after her?” Alfred asked.

“No.” Bruce said still looking at the spot where Selina previously stood.

“I take that as a yes then.” Alfred said.

Bruce sighed and yielding to fate he approached the spot that Selina just occupied. He saw no trace of her which didn’t surprise him. Selina knew her way around the city. She didn’t know that she was being followed she was still too quick to be easily tracked.

Bruce returned to the pet store and saw alone police car in front of it. He doubted that they would be able to catch Selina.

��Anything else for me, Alfred?” He asked.

“No, it’s a quiet night. Maybe we could go back to the manor and get some sleep for once.” Alfred proposed knowing what Bruce would answer.

“Sure, it sounds good.” Bruce said after a short silence surprising Alfred.

Selina, as always, had tossed Bruce off his game. His normally rational mind seemed to lose all of its ability to function every time Bruce even caught a glimpse of those brown curls or that playful smile. More often than not she just appeared, teased him and then disappeared without a trace. Bruce knew that he should find more about what Selina currently did with her new-found partners but he just didn’t have the heart to do it. Penguin was much bigger threat anyways, Bruce tried to tell himself. Besides Ra’s was still out there. They were petty excuses of course but they served their purpose. Bruce knew that sooner or later he would have to stop lying to himself and just have an honest discussion with Selina. Who they are, where do they stand and why do they keep coming back to each other but tonight wasn’t that night. Tonight he went home with Alfred and tried his best to ignore the growing restlessness inside him.

A/N: Honestly I don't even know what this even is. It has been in my drafts for months so I just wanted it out there. I probably had a point starting this but boy if I remember it anymore.

#pairing: i'm gonna be here whenever you need me #universe: gotham #category: television #type: fic #mine: writing #mine: all #mine: gotham

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cinnamonskull · 7 years ago

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Noticed that you haven't been posting a lot of fanfic recently (not complaining or judging because LIFE), but just lettin' you know that I love your fics and can't wait for more!

This made me very happy, anon! You’re right, life has been eating away at my soul as of late, and I haven’t been able to really write much (including missing out jaytimweek WAH).

I debated even sharing this, but since you inquired, here’s the opening of a fic I was working on for jaytimweek:

last chance to lose your keyssum: Tim loses his memory. Jason runs out of excuses.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Tim commented quietly from his corner of the room. He watched Jason drop his leather duffle on the ugly, floral bedspread, abused springs protesting loudly under its weight. It sounded dirty, the kind of sleazy noise a person would expect to hear at a pay-by-the-hour motel.

And then Jason unzipped the bag with steady hands to pull out a shiny black handgun.

Tim’s mouth went dry.

Green-blue eyes flicked his way for only a moment before Jason scoffed, his fingers deft and skillful as they twisted in a silencer at the tip of his gun. “Yes, I did.”

The events of the past two days were still an anxious blur in Tim’s mind. He remembered few concrete details on how he ended up in Las Vegas with Jason, a gun-toting, snarky asshole with the kind of face that made Tim want to bite the back of his hand.

At least, he said his name was Jason. Tim couldn’t remember if that were true or not.

He did know some things. He knew his name was Timothy Drake-Wayne. He knew he worked at Wayne Enterprises for bleak stretches of time, attending stuffy, drawn out meetings, the Millennial mouthpiece for one playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne.

But he also knew Bruce’s secret, and he worked alongside him and others to fight crime in Gotham City as Red Robin. He could picture Dick’s sleek, acrobatic fighting style, knew the exact shade of Steph’s blonde hair, could feel the silence that followed Cass around like armour, hear the impatient tone of Damian’s voice.

But this Jason? Tim had no memory of him at all.

“You think I’m a flight risk?”

Jason ignored him, checking for ammo before snapping the clip back into place and cocking the gun with an ominous slide of metal springs. He turned away from his duffel to stalk the length of their room, which was only big enough to fit two full beds and a bulky TV from the ‘90s. When he got to the window, Jason eased back thin, ugly curtains with his gun.

“We’re more than an hour from the next town, and there’s nothing but desert and darkness between the mile markers,” Tim tried again. He already knew there was no point in arguing, but old habits made him try.

Jason laughed again, low and derisive, and flicked the curtains back into place. “Got it all figured out, huh?” He tucked the gun into the holster beneath his jacket, twisting slightly so Tim could see the strong curve of his back. “We got a regular Wonder Boy on our hands.”

The reference irked Tim, made his skin crawl thinking about the things Jason knew about him – and all the things he didn’t know about Jason. The first thing he’d done when he’d come to, soaking wet on the tiled bathroom floor in some swanky hotel room, was call Bruce.

“I’ll tell you more when you’re home,” Bruce had said, his voice placating. There was a long pause before he’d added, “You can trust him.”

“But–,” Tim had tried to argue.

“Leave it,” Bruce said, his voice more clipped than before. “You don’t need to know anything else right now.” He promised to check in on them in the morning, and then promptly hung up.

Clearly, Bruce had chose his words carefully. The reason why felt important.

“I’m just saying the probability of me trying to escape is low. I don’t think…,” he trailed off as Jason double backed toward his side of the room.

He paused at the foot of Tim’s bed and smirked. “You have a history of not thinking things through.”

There was a memory scratching at the back of Tim’s mind, the shadowy presence of Jason occupying a similar space, in another time. How many hotel rooms, how many nights spent together working some case?

The way Jason moved unnerved Tim, made him feel raw and wrong. Tim had no doubt Jason knew exactly what he was doing; he clearly had the training and experience to handle automatic weapons with precision; he knew how to lean over the front desk with hooded eyes and a low voice and to ask for a room with a view of the highway; he knew how to count the number of missing keys hanging behind the hungry-eyed clerk, how to count the steps from the manager’s office to the their room, how to keep his back to the wall and his eyes on the door at all times.

Tim’s unease went beyond Jason’s obvious confidence. There was the familiarity in which he moved around Tim that felt significant. The way Jason’s body seemed to unconsciously bend toward Tim, their bodies two blades of grass in a high wind.

How well did they really know each other?

It was noticeable when Jason hesitated, the way his jaw ticked as he studied Tim sprawled out on the bed beneath him. His eyes flicked up and over, catching on the curve of Tim’s shoulder before settling somewhere just to the left of his ear. He didn’t say anything as he moved closer, his thigh heavy against the edge of the mattress.

Tim forced himself to lie perfectly still, tilting his neck up so he could meet Jason with defiant, untrusting eyes.

In response, Jason rolled his eyes and reached behind Tim’s head quickly, flickering off the only source of light in the room. And Tim was glad for the swift darkness, the way it swept through the room like a current, hiding sudden burn on his cheeks.

“There you go again. Not thinking.”

Jason sounded far away again and Tim squinted. When his eyes adjusted, he saw that Jason had retreated back to the window without making a sound. A purple, neon glow outlined his profile as he peeled back the curtain again.

“Well, if it bothers you so much, I could keep not thinking in another room.”

Jason clicked his tongue. “Nice try, Bird Boy.”

“Just trying to figure out why you’re so intent on babysitting, is all.”

“Ohh,” Jason snorted to himself, annoyed. “Yeah, that’s me. Babysitter-for-hire with a bolo in my bag and personal penchant for leather jackets. Mommy bloggers really go for that shit.”

“Then what?” Tim grit out with a huff of frustration.

“I don’t know.” Jason’s eyes remained focused outside the window as he spoke. “Maybe it’s because we just pissed all over the cartel’s ivory carpet in Vegas not even 24 hours ago, and this motel is full of lowlife criminals just looking for someone to sell out for some quick cash or a cheap fuck.”

There was a pause, and Tim heard a car roll through the parking lot, tires crunching gravel. The red and purple neon lights cut against the sharp angles of Jason’s face.

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking I don’t know you, Tim.”

Jason kept his eyes trained on the road and smiled.

#kk writes #jaytim #jason todd #tim drake #last chance to lose your keys

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kneesheee · 7 years ago

Text

Stark Sibs

Noelani

WARNINGS: MILD VIOLENCE

It was a regular day in the tower as Selene sat around and watched movies in the common room. Her siblings including the recently added Pietro Maximoff Stark all surrounded her under piles of blankets and pillows and snacks and drinks.

Their dad was at a UN meeting discussing possible proposed additions to the accords. The kids were slightly sad considering it was a movie night and they were still slowly engrossing Vision and Pietro into modern movies and classics. They were a family that sometimes talked in movie, television, songs etc. quotes.

It really was peaceful moment in the tower for the young Starks. Then the renegades had to ruin it.

Immediately upon entering, Wanda tried her best to get the attention of Pietro and Vision. It broke her heart that her twin wanted nothing to do with her, but he had been watching from Olympus and he hadn’t like what he saw. No, she needed to make up for her actions and apologizing and begging for his and Vision’s attention won’t help. She needed to go to Tony himself.

Clint Barton stood to the side feeling uneasy as he gazed upon his newly discovered son. After being properly threatened by Francis, Laura, Tony, and F.R.I.D.A.Y., Clint thought it’d be wise to keep the information to himself.

Sam sat to the side watching the children all tense as Wanda continued to try to get close to her not-twin brother and Vision. He had blinked and missed the moment when Selene produced a small dagger. He didn’t know what to think about the look in her eyes as Wanda’s hands started to gleam red as her emotions grew wonky.

Scott stood close to the doors ready to escape the first second trouble brews. He had and currently has enough issues going on surrounding what Stark’s children dubbed renegades or his daughter’s, Selene, favorite idiotic bag of dicks that I cannot possibly wait to see fall from their makeshift pedestals for me to torture and kill and drown in their stupidity. He lost his daughter, he lost the girl, and he lost his hero title. He didn’t want to take the chance to lose his mind-or his life.

Bucky watched the proceedings as they slowly took a turn for the worse. Stark’s daughter (the little red head) and his son (the platinum blonde one) both wore snarls on their faces as Wanda drew closer. He could clearly see the distress coming off the android (Vision, they called him) and he didn’t doubt for a second that his siblings didn’t notice it either.

A growl escaped from the young dark skinned one. The Prince of Wakanda. It put them all on edge even Wanda who stood still at the sight of the electricity running up the boy’s arm. His eyes glowed with power and Wanda didn’t know if she would be able to take him on. Before a sneer crossed her features and she moved her hand to make him leave her alone, but a dagger flew dangerously close to her face being stopped only by the thrower’s will.

“Touch him and I will kill you,” Selene stated without emotion. Her eyes grew dark as she gazes upon Wanda. “I believe both of my brothers have constantly rebuffed your advances and more or less told you the only road to redemption with them is to apologize to our father.”

If anything, Wanda’s sneer grew fiercer never mind the small stab of fear she held. But she was Wanda Maximoff. She was the Scarlett Witch. She was handpicked by Captain America himself. She was an Avenger and she would not let a little girl frighten her. Especially not the child of Tony Stark.

“Why should I apologize to him when he murdered my family? When his murder bot attempted to murder my Pietro?”

Natasha knew things were about to go to hell when she saw the smirking playing on her daughter’s lips. Selene looked so much like her. James did also. If it weren’t close to impossible, she’d wonder if her doppelganger somehow managed to conceive them on their own. Like Queen Hera from the Grecian myths. Natasha remembered plenty of times the small mantra Tony used to say when he was close to collapsing with exhaustion. Stark men were made of iron. Maybe she’s just being biased, but her two children. Her beautiful baby girl and baby boy may look like her, but they were everything of what the Stark name represents. What she’d lie down and kill to have again. No, the elder Starks men may have been made of iron, but Tony and all of his children were made of diamonds. Beautiful under light, fragile in one look, expensive as hell and belong in bulletproof glass cages. It made sense for Tony to hide them from the world. He wanted to protect them even when they know how to hold their own. Even when they knew how to pick their battles. And boy, did they pick them and win. Like a true Stark in all but blood. Though she only known the children in whole for a few months, knew of the twins to be her children for two weeks, she’d help Tony kill anyone that dares look at them wrong.

She didn’t know she had spaced out long enough for Selene to have Wanda pinned to the ground. Natasha saw the way Selene could move in battle and noticed how she still seemed to hold herself back. She could remember a conversation she had with Thor and Bruce about Selene. How she was leader of the Stark Siblings only to be met with gentle headshakes.

“Selene’s a lot like Tony. She doesn’t trust herself to make the right call. She feels like she’d go into a battle and makes a plan and it’d go wonderfully. But she’d feel like she still did something wrong. If they came out with more injuries than just a few scrapes and bruises. If someone died or was injured. She’s not afraid to give her input, but she’s not the leader. She flat out refused and laughed in our faces when she was asked,” Banner had stated.

“Aye. If you want to pick a leader out of them, it’d be James. A brilliant warrior with a heart of gold. My Torunn tells me great things about him when inquired,” Thor agreed smiling a bit at the thought his daughter. He had taken her to Asgard as soon as he gained her trust to introduce her to her people. It was a joyous occasion especially when Sif (the strongest female warrior he has met) broke into tears at the knowledge of her. Even when his brother Loki looked upon her and declared her the most beautiful being across the nine realms whose beauty only rivaled their mother.

“He’s every bit of the good man and leader that I thought Steve was. I didn’t necessarily approve of Tony teaching and training his kids to be heroes. I was glad I didn’t voice or show my disapproval to Tony. He was doing a good job with them. Honestly, I saw them in the labs more than the training rooms. Then I learned the truth about their origins and saw them fight in one of the stimulation rooms. James led them like a good leader. Francis and Torunn seemed to be his second in commands. Pym is their tech expert. Azari helps them remain calm and keep a clear head. Selene was Iron Man mixed in with you and Captain America. She sometimes derailed from the plan, but you couldn’t tell until the end when they commented on how it went. She kept everyone’s spirits high. But she fought like a bat out of hell. Pure strength and strategy.”

The conversation gave Natasha a lot of perspective when it came to the group and she could easily see their dynamics. They weren’t a team. They were a family in more ways than the original Avengers could ever comprehend. Though Selene was still a leader in her mind. It just showed when her dark side came out.

“You do not scare me, little girl. No matter what kind of powers you have,” Wanda continued not noticing the growing tension in the room. A burst of magic had Selene flying away, but she managed to flip mid air and just sit there. Wanda turned back towards Pietro and Vision not minding the dagger that flew back inches from neither her face nor the look shared between James and Selene.

Then Selene started laughing. A laugh that was filled with so much hatred that a shiver went down Steve’s spine.

“That sounds familiar. Where did I hear that from? I think it was something like I cannot control anyone else’s fear. I can only control my own. Tell me, Wanda, what do you call you actions against my father? When you stirred up his fear of losing those he cared about and he saw the Avengers dead? Hm, you control that fear of his. Or when your magic crept into his room every night and plagued him with nightmares so bad that he had to move out of his own home? You can’t control anyone else’s fear, but you did a damn good job at controlling my dad’s.”

Wanda turned back to Selene with a look of annoyance in her face. She was tired of Selene constantly bringing up Wanda messing with Tony’s head. Steve already forgave her for her actions. He let her atone for her mistakes, so what the point of constantly bringing it up. She asked Selene this aloud and watched as Selene’s lip curl up in disgust at her words.

“Steve doesn’t care about you. Allowing you onto the team was for strategy he said. No matter that you unleashed the Hulk into a city of innocent people. Controlling Uncle Bruce’s and Hulk’s fear of losing control,” Selene snarled. “No sweetie, I don’t where you got in your head that he gives a damn about you. He only cares about himself and Barnes. He hated Hydra. He fought against them for many years, yet in a single day or two... he outright forgives you? No, he had plan. Get the world to forgive you for your actions so that when he found Bucky, they would do the same for him. Let’s not mention the fact that he also wanted to use you for Bucky. Captain America doesn’t care for you. You are nothing.”

But Wanda was no longer paying attention to her. She only had eyes for Steve whom flinched at the heartbroken and betrayed look in her eyes. Steve had wanted Selene to stop talking. He was close to walking over to the young girl and making her, but he couldn’t seem to make himself move. It figures that any child of Tony would follow in their father’s footsteps, but he wouldn’t accept the bullying they were giving. He had hoped that Tony would have raised them better than him, but alas he could only hope. It was, however, a good thing he was around. He could teach them about respecting the adults around them.

“Steve, is that true?” Wanda’s broken voice pushed through his clouded thoughts.

“Of course not, Wanda. I’d never betray your trust like that,” he told her. But you did, the traitorous part of his mind whispered.

“You’re a lying liar who lies,” Selene stated unmoved.

Wanda nodded albeit a little dazed before she moved away from Pietro and Vision. ��I-I need to go lie down,” she muttered before walking back towards the elevator.

The Stark Siblings said nothing though Pietro did look worriedly over to elevator. “Go, Pietro. She is your blood sister. You care about her and we care about you. Go comfort her,” Azari told him before paying attention the movie. Pietro sat for a few more moments before Selene stood up and threw him into the elevator with an “And don’t come back until you stop moping”.

Then grabbed Vision and threw him in the elevator also. “Let her know how you feel. She is in fact an adult, so she needs to have this conversation like an adult.”

Steve turned towards the Stark Siblings to let them know how he disapproved of their behavior when he noticed Natasha walking over to the couches and got settled to watch the movie.

“What’s this?”

“The Underworld movie series,” James piped up before stuffing his mouth with popcorn. Clint made his way to the group and sat on the floor in front of Natasha. Sam sat in one of the available arm chairs and Scott sat the furthest away from Pym he could get without being too far from the screen. Bucky cautiously made his way over and Steve noted how every child gaze immediately snapped to Bucky. Steve opened his mouth to berate them for the rude way they were treating Bucky just because their dad had a few screws loose in his head when they all shifted around to make room for Bucky on one of the couches beside them.

Steve made his way over to sit beside Bucky when all the children shuffled around again and there wasn’t any more room left for him except on the floor. He scowled at the disrespect, but said nothing as he sat on the floor in front of Bucky.

Everyone noticed how tensed the children were. They all noticed the scowls each of the children wore, but they said nothing because the children said nothing.

Then the Lang family walked in. Little Cassie squealed excitedly and raced over to Selene and jumped into her lap. And didn’t that break Scott’s heart. Selene looked fondly at the little girl before raising an eyebrow at her mother and looking pointing at the TV screen.

“It's no worse than seeing her dad hurt her Uncle Tony,” Maggie said sarcastically without even sparing Scott a glance even when he flinched from the jab. Francis snorted from his spot beside Selene and just stuffed his face with more popcorn. He looked up when his notmom-mom walked into the room. He really needed to figure out what to actually call her. She didn’t say anything as she walked over and placed his baby half-brother into his lap. Nathaniel smiled up at him and Francis is manly enough to admit that his heart melted into a puddle of adoration. Cooper and Lila crawled into James’ and Torunn’s lap and settled in to watch the movie.

“If they have nightmares, they’re sleeping with you tonight, Francis,” Laura told them as she walked into the kitchen with Maggie while her husband Jim walked to join the group and sat on the floor in front of Pym. Francis shook his head amused, but said nothing as he continued to watch the movie.

The Siblings were still tensed as they sat quietly and watched the vampire lady, Selene, kick ass on the screen.

“She’s definitely my inspiration,” Selene piped up. “We even share a name.”

James being the little shit he is replied with a, “I thought mom was your inspiration.” Selene glared at her brother and pointedly ignored the stare she got from her mother.

“My mother’s dead,” she deadpanned. She took no notice of the Natasha’s subtle flinch. Natasha suddenly gets children and her masks start to slip. “But trust me, if she were alive; I’d have a lot to say to her. None of it necessarily nice.”

James scowled at his sister. He knew what she was doing, but he shook his head and returned to watching the movie.

Tony walked into the room head buried into his StarkPad. He didn’t notice the occupants, but he vaguely remembers F.R.I.D.A.Y mentioning that his children were having their movie night.

Steve’s hearts skipped a beat at the sight of Tony. Honestly all of the renegades felt a flutter at seeing him. He avoided them like plague; he let up on them keeping their distance from the children. Though Steve felt that it was because he wanted to see them bully Wanda. It was a stupid thing to do and Steve had every intention to talk to him about it, but Tony never stayed around for too long.

Without looking up from his StarkPad, Tony stated, “Selene, can you please stop buying out thrift shops and turning them into your personal closets? Francis, you’re archery range in Wisconsin is finished. Torunn, Thor and Loki have managed to fit the doorway to Asgard on your floor. Azari, I’ve gotten in touch with Storm. She’s willing to meet you. I haven’t given her all the details though, so you can give her the truth if you want. Pym, your dad called. He sent over some schematics for you and Hope to look over. And James, your holographic watch is finished so you can do whatever with the shield unless you plan to keep it.”

Selene rolled her eyes before turning back to the movie. Everyone else noticed how the tension seeped out the siblings as they continued to watch the movie.

“Tony,” Steve called out breathlessly as he jumped up. All of the siblings’ eyes landed on him especially Selene and Francis. They eased the children off their laps. Tony froze his spot. Tension leaking out him in waves. He hurriedly made his way over to Tony before he was roughly thrown back into a wall.

Everyone turned to see Selene floating in the air again with a trident floating ominously beside her. Her hair flowed like the red sea and her green eyes turned stormy. “Don’t take another step,” she stated and it was an echo of other voices merging with hers. Cassie was huddled protectively into Jim’s arms as water rushed into the room. Laura and Maggie rushed into the room with their pants soaking wet and drops of water on their shirts. They didn’t know what to say as everyone look at the champion of Poseidon.

“What makes you think that you have the right to approach our father?” Selene questioned. “After you mercilessly tore him down, used his money and resources to find the murderer of his parents and didn’t tell him. After you shunned him for the creation of Ultron when your little princess, Wanda, was responsible for his birth? After you continuously berated him for not owning up for his actions when he was the one covering for all of you after every battle? When he sign the Accords to do exactly what you constantly asked him to do? After you’re little friend Scott over there climbed into his suit? You know how dangerous that was for both of them? Maybe it was after you decided to throw a fucking truck on his mentee, Spiderman? After your little girlfriend Natasha decided to let you go and Uncle Rhodey took a hit to the suit after your friend Sam dodged in the pursuit to get to you? After Clint over there had the gall to reference to Uncle Rhodey’s fall when Dad visited them? Was it after you had the nerve to try to lie to his face about knowing about his parents’ murder? Or maybe it was after Bucky tried to rip out the arc reactor? No, I think I know when you decided you had the right.”

“Selene,” James warned, but his voice was drowned out as the water continued to rush into the room forming a hurricane under her. When the water dropped from the ceiling like rain and burned on impact to Steve’s skin as she kept her eyes on him. Selene paid him no mind though she did feel the subtle shifts in the air as Francis tried to reign in his anger in.

“You’re scaring the kids,” Francis struggled out and waves of water caressed the children before carrying them out of the room. Another wave rushed over to her father and gently pushed him away from the room and eased away the panic attack that was building up. A part of Selene felt disgusted for using her powers to manipulate her father in such a way, but she would not let any of them see him in a moment of weakness.

“It was right after you went from bashing the shield his father made you in his throat to bashing it in his arc reactor and leaving him for dead in Hydra base in Siberia where he nearly froze to death for three hours if it weren’t for Vision and FRIDAY.” Selene’s words cut deep and all the adults in the room eyes cut towards Steve.

Francis’ anger seemed to escape his hold and before anyone knew it, the platinum blonde haired teenager was giving off a glowing light. The middle of his forehead had the crescent of the sun and moon like the Queen’s necklace from the movie Twitches. His eyes were like staring into an eclipse as gold and silver arrows and bow appeared on his person. There was a distinct howling of a wolf as his eyes landed on Steve.

“Thank Poseidon that Dad didn’t rely on the arc reactor to live anymore,” she deadpanned. Maggie, Jim, and Laura stared in horror.

The two champions’ energy seemed to feed off each other. James and Torunn both knew they needed to separate the two before someone ended up burnt to a crisp or drowned from the inside out.

Before they could make their move though, a familiar voice called out to them, “I am Groot!” The two champions’ whipped around to face the small sapling. “I am Groot,” he said again and the champions looked properly shamed. The auras faded away from around them and the two fell unsteady on their feet. James and Torunn help steady them.

“You gotta stop overusing your powers, ‘Lena and France,” Torunn scolded. She carefully placed her younger sister into the hands of their adopted step-dad. Selene smiled tiredly unashamed at her sister before cuddling into her step-father’s arms. “No promises, T. Hey dad.”

Peter look down fondly at his stepdaughter before shaking his head. “I’m not even going to ask. Mainly because I left my weapons on the ship.”

A laugh bubbled out of Selene and she relaxed even further. She turned her head to the side to see Francis pouting at being carried by Aunt Gamora like a damsel in distress but everyone’s afraid of Aunt Gamora so he didn’t say anything.

“Dad?” Natasha questioned. Her eyes went wide and she began to scrutinize the man. What did she see in him to have children by him?

Apparently, Steve decided to ignore everything and try to get his words out. “Fucking Christ, you think I don’t know that? I was- I was fighting for our freedom-“

“You were fighting for control, Rogers, don’t lie. Every action you made was based around having control of the situation. It was the reason you didn’t sign the accords. The reason you chose not to share the information about Zemo. The reason you never told Dad about his parents,” Azari spat, “you dragged your best friend into a problem he didn’t even need to be in, and he ended up in exactly the same situation he would have been in had you just taken up his damn offer at the start. But no- it had to be your way. Everyone called Dad a control-freak, but you, Rogers, you take first prize.”

“Rogers? As in Steve Rogers?” Peter questioned aloud as he turned towards Steve. There was a look in his eyes that no one but he children could place.

A flash of something crossed Gamora’s face before Francis was placed down. Selene was placed right beside him. Her infamed smirk crossed her features. “Oh, yes, dad. It’s him and the rest of idiotic bag of dicks that I cannot possibly wait to see fall from their makeshift pedestals for me to torture and kill and drown in their stupidity. Thinking that they were entitled to dad’s presence.”

“Who are you,” Scott questioned hesitantly even as Gamora pulled a sword out of nowhere. The raccoon began muttering under his breath something about made us leave our weapons but she could bring her blade.

“Peter Quill. Star-Lord. One of the Guardians of the Galaxy. Husband to Tony Stark. Reinforcements for the battle against Thanos,” Peter stated but his eyes stayed on Steve. Steve, who looked a little heartbroken and mad, to hear that Tony went and got married to someone else.

Someone else would’ve commented, but at that moment the wall exploded.

#tony stark and his children au #tony stark imagine #not steve friendly #notstevefriendly #not team cap friendly #post ca:cw

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theexperiment-hq-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

Clark Kent / Superman, played by Lee

OOC Info

Name: Lee again

Age: 21

Pronouns: all any

Triggers: (redacted)

Second Choice Character: n/a

Discord: (redacted)

Muse Name and Alias: Clark Kent, Kal-El of Krypton, Superman

What is your primary canon(s) for this character? Superman: American Alien comic

Approximate Age: 29

OTPs, BroTPs, NoTPs: My main ships for the character are Clex, Superbat, some Dick/Clark fun and ofc him and Lois. Big BroTP with Bruce and other League members. NoTPs n/a

Give us a bulletpoint outline for what your character’s history might look like:

Home planet of Krypton destroyed, Kal’s parents Lara and Jor-El we’re scientists who saw the coming destruction but ultimately were not listened to by their people or the council of Krypton. In a last ditch effort, they sent away their newborn son in a small space capsule pre-programmed to Earth’s coordinates. Knowing Kal would grow stronger and more powerful there than the home population. Hoping to ease the burden of him being an outcast since he’d be a “god to them”.

He crash landed in a field in Kansas, near the small rural town of Smallville. Adopted by Martha and Jonathan Kent, a couple previously unable to conceive and praying for a miracle child. Kal, who they named Clark, was their miracle. Martha quick and stubborn enough to easily convince Jonathan that instead of calling anyone, especially the government, they needed to protect this child. Hide the evidence that he came from space.

It soon became evident as Clark grew that he was far from normal. A toddler lifting furniture, never getting sick, thankfully to worrisome parents, unable to be harmed.

In early elementary school aged, Clark had his first accidental flight. Shooting through the roof of their farm home and in a panic Martha grabbed on to his ankle, propelling them both up. It’s only when she nearly slipped and fell that Clark managed to get more of a handle on himself. Her talking him into attempting to get them to move down, only resulting them both dropping. Luckily no one was seriously injured. Next instance with flight had him stuck hoovering above their fields. Jonathan enlisting the help of a neighbor with a small plane to swoop over and retrieve their son. Spurring some cuter moments of trial and error between the father and son until Clark learned to have a better grip on this particular ability.

He had a near idyllic childhood, parents who loved and supported him, space to run and roam and grow on the farm. But was haunted by his differences and the secrets he had to keep about them. The feeling of being so alien compared to the rest. But after lashing out on a mirror in a drive in, his father’s speech on “not being a jerk” hit home deep in Clark. Someone had put the effort and work into making that mirror, delivering it, hanging it up. And he’d destroyed it and a wall in a matter of a second. He didn’t want to be a jerk. Even if he was sort of miserable.

As a teenager, a string of brutal murders took place in Smallville. A good handful in the town new that Clark was special, and applying that small pressure for him to find the culprits, to help, weighed on him. But when he’d found where they were, Clark didn’t go to the police with the information. He showed up himself instead. A confrontation that ended in him for the most part accidentally melting the arms off one of the criminals. Three criminals were put in intensive care, describing their attacker as “a demon with red eyes”.

Shortly after highschool, Clark won a free plane ride. Taking it as a chance to finally get out of Smallville and “spread his wings” a bit. The plane crash landed in the ocean near a party boat of Bruce Wayne’s. Only Bruce wasn’t on board and Clark was quickly mistaken for the elusive birthday billionaire. Slipping into the role for a weekend trip until they docked, Clark met and mingled with a gaggle of ‘Bruce Wayne’s fake friends’ one even being Oliver Queen. Having a brief (and drugged) encounter with Deathstroke before slipping away once they made landfall.

In college, Clark was accepted into an internship at the Daily Planet. Their first challenge assignment being a summit meeting of Bruce Wayne, Oliver Queen and Alexander Luthor. He scored inside scoop interviews with Queen, Luthor and Bruce Wayne’s then young ward, Dick Grayson. Being inspired in a multitude of ways to really step up in the world. As well as discovering Batman’s secret identity…and stealing his cape. Teaming up with Lois Lane and her exclusive on Bruce Wayne to write a Global headline

Superman’s first major appearance / superhero adventures clad in an acquired batman cape, goggles, helmet and a House of El painted bullet-proof vest. A vest that didn’t fool Lois Lane. Clark had his first notable bad run in with Parasite, who when thrust into the bay shrunk back to a man that muttered one thing “Lex Luthor” spurring a tension filled interaction that would set the tone for his future relationship with the cooperate powerhouse and arch-nemesis.

It wasn’t until he was 24 that Clark ever heard the word Krypton. Flying out into space after an argument with some friends, he was picked up by some members of the Green Lantern Corps. They didn’t give him anymore information outside of that. Later, when a space mercenary, Lobo came into town was when Clark finally discovered more about his home planet and true origins. As well as showcasing the true extend of his strength and powers to the world. Thereby solidifying himself as a Global figure and hero.

Justice League formed in order take on a greater threat to mankind (Darkseid?) Superman spends his days busy juggling his duties as Superman and maintaining his career as a journalist for the Daily Planet.

Interview (Must be answered in character, third person, including both narrative and dialogue. Answer these as if you’re responding to a roleplay reply. Feel free to write as much as you like, but make sure there’s at least a good paragraph for each.)

What would it take for you to switch sides? (hero to villain; villain to hero; neutral to either) “No.” Sound. Resolute. He had to be. “As long as there is life in my body, i will try and do what i feel is right. I owe it to humanity. To be their beacon.” The shine of the alien fabrics catching light on his symbol. It’s more than just an S. “But more importantly, i owe it to my parents. Both sets. To help shape and be apart of a better world, one that won’t fall victim to Krypton’s many mistakes. And to be the good person Ma and Pa raised me to be.” Clark cleared his throat, trying to distract from the strong and seeping emotion he felt when thinking of his parents. His birth planet. His home here on Earth.

How would you describe yourself? How would your friends describe you? How would the public describe you? “It depends on who in the world you ask. But i like to think that most are able to see what i do for what it is. To look over the ‘what ifs’ and see me for my actions. The world may not always agree with me, and i may not always see the clearest picture for what it is. But I will *always* do my best. For truth and justice. For the little guy. Like it or not, i’m a symbol for something bigger than just one man could ever be.” He distantly realized he wasn’t looking anywhere in particular anymore. Lost in his own answer. In trying to layer it with as much of his truth as possible. Blinking and a soft smile as he came back. “As for my friends? Well they’ll call me a big caped idiot. A boy scout. A dangerous one at that.” a lightness of his features while he thought of Bruce. As much as the man and his darkness, the depths of it, scared him. He was also a quiet inspiration. And an ease to his mind. Someone to keep him in check should Clark ever lose sight of what was right. “I seem to recall being called an obnoxiously caped loser in good nature a time or two. And myself? Well i’m just..i’m just a man with a lot a free time, trying to do one good deed a day.”

If you could gain any superpower/swap your superpower for another, what would it be and why? Clark looked down at his hands at this question. Wasn’t sure what to say. He had all the power anyone could want. And well, most of his life he hadn’t necessarily wanted them. Growing up, what he wanted most? Was just to a regular kid. *Normal.* But he was expected to answer. And as a member of the press himself, he knew how frustrating it could be when someone glossed over your questions. “I think.. I think i’d want Diana’s badassery. Does that count?” A small, apologetic smile.

What is a secret you have never told someone? If there was one choice in your past you could change, what would it be? What should he say here? A secret he’s told no one. Not his identity, a good handful of people know. That feeling he remembered all too well, how close he’s come to doing what was easy instead of what was right. To crumbling under the weight of everything awful he’s seen in this world. In others. That dangerous notion of taking matters into hand in a way that no person should. He just stared back down at hands again. The power, strength he knew was behind just about every cell in his body. *I never asked for all this.* “A secret? Sometimes..in dark moments, I worry that Luthor and others were right. That my being here and standing up so boldly only further inspired some of destruction and villains we see today.” A choice in his past to change. *Maybe..maybe working more with the police during the hostage situation in smallville. The way he permanently scarred those men*. But they had deserved it. Perhaps underestimating Luthor. Barging in hot headed when he should have thought things through. “We all make mistakes. All anyone can do is learn from them and look forward.”

If you had one day where you could do anything you want, free of consequences, what would you do? Clark gave a longing sigh. A happy look as he contemplated that. “I think i’d take Lois out, someplace nice. Quiet. And we’d be able to relax. Maybe a bubble bath and a book. Resting easy without worrying about well, the weight of the world. League responsibilities. Super-villains and alien invasions. To just be able to be a regular guy for a day. Now that sounds nice."

Extras

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