#means he has to keep reminding Bruce he’s Bruce without giving the game away

[avayarising]

Bruce must genuinely be more concussed than he thinks though if he thinks Jason is a hallucination but still can’t stop himself from interacting with him and sobbing over him. (Emotional lability is a common symptom of concussions.)

He’s genuinely, seriously vulnerable and it’s freaking Jason out. He’s rambling and crying and Jason has already had to redirect him twice to stop the identities falling out in front of the paramedics. Bad enough that Jason (broken ankle, dammit, this wasn’t supposed to happen) tried to stand up out of the paramedic’s grasp when he realised just who it was they were pulling out of the back of the car and onto a stretcher, face pale and lax and bloody. Bad enough that he forgot himself enough to say “Dad?” – quietly, but loud enough for the paramedic to hear. Bad enough that when the paramedic asked “That your dad, son?” he was still too much in shock to do anything other than nod. (Bruce wasn’t supposed to be hurt. Bruce didn’t get injured, not like this. He was all-powerful, larger than life, a superhero. He couldn’t be taken out by some stupid car crash. When Jason didn’t even know he was there.)

Bruce was blinking and hazy-eyed when they brought Jason, splinted ankle and all, in to the ambulance and settled him next to the stretcher. Just play the part, Jason told himself. He probably won’t recognise you anyway.

“Jason…”

So much for that idea.

–––––––––––

Bruce has a brief memory of a truck coming out fast from a side road and a motorcycle swerving to avoid it, directly towards them. He remembers thinking I can’t do anything about this. Then a memory of a skid, the world outside the window blurring, and then the sky, framed with an edge moving past him with people jabbering at each other around him. He thinks for a moment and parses that one as him being pulled out of the side of the car by… some people.

Now he’s… in a vehicle. An ambulance.

He should get up, get back to work. The Mission… no, he’s Bruce Wayne right now, isn’t he?

Someone is being wheeled in and strapped next to him. It’s his dead son.

He knows it isn’t, really. But he can’t help himself. He smiles, tears in his eyes. Jason. His son. As he could have been. If he’d grown up. If Bruce had been able to save him. Bruce hadn’t saved him. If he’d only been quicker, had stopped the shipment sooner. His Robin –

“Hey, hey, stop. Bruce.”

Bruce, yes, he’s Bruce Wayne, he’s not –

“Hey! It’s OK, I’m here, you’re – you’re going to be OK.”

And Bruce knows it’s a hallucination, but it’s his son, and he can’t help but smile through his tears.

Prompt:

Brucie Wayne gets into a mild accident in public (read-got hit by a car). And Batman would just walk it off (“it’s barely a bruise”), but Brucie obviously… can’t.

So he has to suffer the ordeal of having civilians call paramedics, getting fussed over, and having-

Having his dead son get into the back of the ambulance with him.

Oh- oh no. He must have hit his head worse than he thought. He thought he was past this…

[iam93percentstardust]

Prompt: tony can’t get enough of Steve’s strength and Steve loves it bc he’s still quite self conscious of his body? 💚

I realized halfway through writing this that you probably meant for a canon-compliant fic, but I was already so deep into the worldbuilding for this little science fiction fic (seriously, you don't even know how much unnecessary worldbuilding I did) so I kept with it

Also on ao3 here!

~

“Steve!” Tony hollers through the communicator. Steve glances up from the board game he’s playing with Natasha and Clint and over at where the communicator hangs from the ship’s wall. He still doesn’t really understand the technology behind the communicators even after a year of being awake, but they’re hung all over the Avenger’s Shieldand he won’t deny that they’re useful.

“I’m here,” he says at a normal volume, knowing that JARVIS will easily pick up what he’s saying and transmit it to Tony. Tony’s just being loud because he’s always loud and because he’s down in the engine room of the ship with all its noises from the conversion of stardust into energy.

“Great! I need your muscley goodness down here like yesterday.”

Steve hides a smile and stands, passing his pieces off to Clint, who’s losing worse than either Steve or Natasha. “Here, you can have mine. Not sure how long I’ll be down there.”

Clint’s eyes narrow and Steve tries not to fidget under the cybernetic enhancements. When he went into the ice nearly three hundred years ago, mankind didn’t even dream of space travel, at least not realistic space travel, and now they’ve got colonies on galaxies as far away from their own, it makes his head spin. Humans have peace treaties with over two thousand alien civilizations. And mechanical body enhancements, meant to augment humans for travel and work and sometimes sheer entertainment, are as common as breathing. But Steve, with his serum-induced enhancements, is somehow still the odd one out.

“You know,” Clint says, “you don’t have to help him out if you don’t want to. Tony means well but that doesn’t mean he can’t be abrasive sometimes.”

“I don’t mind,” Steve says truthfully. Everyone else on this ship seems to dance around his non-cybernetic enhancements—and around the fact that he’d been frozen in the ice caps, now stretching as far south as Florida, for three hundred years—but Tony never once seemed to care. He’s thrilled about Steve’s enhancements—no one else on the ship is quite as strong as Steve is, not since Thor joined the crew of the Milano—both because of what Steve can help him with and because of what the serum means for scientific advancement, though Steve hasn’t let Bruce or Yinsen take any of his blood yet.

He heads down into the belly of the ship, pausing once at one of the portholes to look out at the stars flashing by them. It still amazes him that humans have achieved all of this (and horrifies him that they achieved this but left their own planet behind).

Tony’s “lair” (as Clint calls it) is located at the very bottom of the ship. It’s here that Tony holds his court, making sure that the engines that run the ship are still intact and running smoothly, tinkering with other projects that the other crewmembers give to him, and designing improved systems for the Shield, whether that’s comms, mechanical, or even medical. Tony does it all. According to Natasha, Tony, who’s one of the few nonhumans on the ship, was once a member of high society on his home planet, Aur’a, but left it all behind to join the Shield and travel the galaxy.

Steve opens the door and is immediately met with a wave of heat. It’s always hot down here. Tony says it’s because of the celestial energy, that stars run so hot that even residue energy is still too hot for unenhanced humans to handle. Fortunately, neither Steve nor Tony are unenhanced, and Steve would be willing to bet that the reason it’s so hot in the engine room today is because Tony is working with raw stardust.

The copper pipes running the room are too close to avoid bumping into for someone as large as Steve, so he doesn’t even bother trying to avoid them, letting them brush against his skin as he follows the sound of Tony humming. When he’d first joined the crew, he’d been worried about Tony complaining that Steve couldn’t move around the engine room without knocking something over, but Tony has never once complained, only just made easygoing jokes about bulls in china shops and told him that the pipes are built to withstand forces a lot stronger than Steve. It had gone a long way toward helping him feel comfortable in the space and now he spends a lot of time down here, talking with Tony about the mechanics of the ship, even though a lot of it goes over his head.

He ducks underneath one of the pipes and rounds a corner to find Tony sitting on a bench, carefully chipping at a speck of stardust on the benchtop in front of him. Tony once told him that it only takes a miniscule amount of stardust to power the ship for an entire week, which is good because stardust is difficult to mine. Tony’s goggles are perched on top of his nose, giving him an owlish appearance. Steve finds it adorable, but he waits until Tony is done with the chisel before walking over to drop a kiss on top of his hair.

The rest of the crew doesn’t know that they’ve been seeing each other for a month. After their first kiss, Steve had asked if it would be okay to keep it quiet a little longer. Steve’s brain is still firmly convinced at times that they’re in the forties, so the idea that he can date a man and have it be as accepted as dating a woman is still a little foreign to him. Tony had been more than accommodating though, which is only one of the reasons Steve loves him so much.

“Oh!” Tony exclaims, clearly startled. “Didn’t realize you were already here.” He turns, pushing his goggles up to his hair. “Did you get even more muscley since the last time I saw you?”

“Tony, you saw me this morning,” Steve says amusedly.

“Right you are, Capsicle, but I still stand by what I said,” Tony shoots back with a cheeky wink. He runs his hands over Steve’s biceps, making a low purring sound under his breath. Steve just barely manages to hear it over the sound of the engines, and it makes him smile.

Sometimes, he still feels self-conscious about his size. Spending most of his life looking and feeling one way only to change in only seconds had been disorienting, and he hadn’t had much of a chance to get used to his size before he’d been thrown into the war and then frozen in the ice. Tony’s always good to talk to though when he needs someone to remind him that this is okay, that he isn’t taking up too much room just by existing. Somehow, he always manages to get to the heart of Steve’s insecurities and allay them.

He indulges in Tony’s warm touch for a little longer before asking, “So what did you need me for?”

Tony perks up, spinning on his heel and picking up the speck of stardust with his bare hand. “I need your help opening the converter door so I can toss this in. Something must have gotten damaged during the battle with the Hydra’s Scales, because it’s not opening for me.”

“Huh,” Steve says, following Tony through the warren of copper pipes toward the energy converter. He has no idea how Tony knows where he’s going without a map. Steve still sometimes needs a map and he’s lived on this ship for a year. “That’s not something you can fix?”

“Not with what I’ve got on ship. I’ll ask Fury if we can stop in Knowhere later this week. They’ve probably got what I need.”

“Wow, Tony Stark admitting he can’t jury-rig a solution from his lab. Hell must have frozen over,” Steve comments, grinning when Tony turns to scowl at him.

“You shut your mouth,” Tony growls.

“Or what?”

Tony’s eyes turn dark and heated. He slinks closer to Steve, runs his fingers up Steve’s chest, and purrs, “Or I’ll shut it for you.”

Steve’s brain shuts down. “Uh…”

“But not right now,” Tony says abruptly, tweaking Steve’s nipple through his shirt. He spins back around and marches off, leaving Steve floundering in his wake. He gapes after him for a second before hurrying to catch up.

“You,” he says, carefully bumping Tony’s shoulder with his—he doesn’t want Tony to drop the stardust after all—“are a menace.”

“That’s me: mechanic and professional menace,” Tony says cheerfully.

They stop beside the energy converter. Steve can immediately see what Tony means by there being something wrong with it. The converter is made out of some sort of transparent material—Steve doesn’t know what—so he can see right in to where something is twisted in the converter itself, partially fusing the door shut. Even Tony, with all his abilities as an Aurum, can’t reach into an active energy converter without burning his hand to ashes, and the converter has to stay active or they’ll be dead in space, so they’ll have to stop somewhere where he can make the necessary repairs.

“See?” Tony says. “I need someone who can muscle that open for me.”

“Well, I’ve definitely got muscles.”

“Mmm, yes you do,” Tony murmurs. Steve wonders if Tony’s thinking about the same thing he is: that time he pinned Tony to the walls of their shared bunk and—well, now’s not the time to be thinking about that.

He grabs onto the wheel and wrenches it to the left. Tony sure hadn’t been kidding; the wheel doesn’t budge at all. He applies more of his strength, muscles bulging. Under the squeal of metal, he hears Tony’s breath catch, and he grins saucily at him. Tony sticks his tongue out and gestures at the wheel again.

“Come on, Captain Crunch. Put your back into it.”

Steve, having no idea what Captain Crunch is supposed to be a reference to, makes a mental note to ask Tony about it once they’re done here. For now, though, he uses all of his strength and slowly—so slowly—the wheel turns, protesting the entire way. Eventually, he gets it open, letting another blast of heat into the engine room. Tony tosses the stardust in. It flares in the heat of the converter, setting off beautiful gold and purple sparks. Steve closes the door. It closes a lot easier than it opened. Tony hums thoughtfully at it.

“Well, that narrows things down,” he says, once the door is fully closed.

“What, that it was easier to close than it was to open?”

“Mmhmm. Only a few things that could be. Probably need to tell the One-Eyed Pirate though that we have to stop on Xandar instead of Knowhere. I don’t think Fujikawa will have what I need. Steve, don’t let me forget to tell Fury the course change.”

“Got it.”

“And thanks, by the way. Definitely couldn’t have done it without you.”

Steve glows at the praise. Maybe it’s silly, but it’s nice to be reminded that even in this oversized, clumsy body out of time, he’s still able to do some good. “Happy to help,” he says honestly.

They head back to Tony’s little work area, Tony eagerly chattering on about the project he’s working on for Natasha. Steve listens, fingers itching for the drawing tablet he’d left in the galley with Natasha and Clint. Tony is lovely when he’s animatedly talking about his inventions. Steve has half a dozen folders saved on his tablet, filled with nothing but different poses of Tony.

Tony leans up against the workbench and pulls Steve in, looping his hands around his neck. “Now, where were we earlier?” he hums, eyes dark.

“Careful,” Steve warns, bracing himself with hands on either side of Tony’s body. “I might crush you.”

“You might,” Tony agrees, though he doesn’t sound concerned at all. “And I might like that. All that coiled strength pinning me down? Oh, honey, yes.” He shivers, a small delighted smile curling his lips up.

“You just like me for my body,” Steve accuses. It isn’t the truth and he knows that. Tony loves him for many reasons; Steve’s strength is only one of them. But it’s fun to tease his lover and Tony is always happy when he does. He frequently worries that Steve is too serious.

“Yes, darling, that’s exactly it.” Tony kisses him lightly. Steve lets himself lean into Tony’s body a little more, grinning when Tony shudders against him.

He pulls away, tucking his head against the curve of Tony’s neck. “Thank you,” he breathes. He doesn’t know how Tony always knows when Steve is feeling self-conscious about his body, but he somehow does and he always comes up with something that’ll help.

Tony strokes his hair. “Anytime, darling. Anytime.”

[miraculous-trinity-leo]

Whacky Gotham, Goofy New York, and Chaotic Paris.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Chapter 5: Then Let The Games Begin

•—–—–·†·–—–—•

Soooo, the Batfam is panicking, Gotham's confused as to why Iron Man is flying over Gotham like a madman, and Maria is with two of Gotham's Sirens (but only Ivy and Harley know this) having a wonderful time playing with Bud and Lou.

Let's start with the Sirens.

Harley is watching over Maria and Tikki as they sleep with Bud and Lou, Ivy walkes over to sit next to Harley, handing her a cup of tea.

"So, what's the diagnosis?" - Ivy

"She has some sort of trauma, has class issues... and handles more than she should, but still does everythin', on top of bein' a hero. She's been through some sh-t Pam." Yeah Harley may have found out Maria's a hero (if the tiny god and magic were anything to go by).

"Is she alone?" - Ivy

"No, thankfully, she has supportive parents, and friends that aren't little sh-ts. I think they're also heroes, she also has a lot, and I a mean A LOT of pent up emotions, she doesn't show anythin' negative, only positive things. She seems to shrink in on herself if she thinks she does somethin' wrong. Pam, we both know there's a limit to how much crap a person can take before they snap, and she's such a sweet kid. There has to be somethin' we can do to help her Ives." Ok she found out alot, but in Marias' defense, they have trustworthy souls, and they were the only other people (besides her friends) that she talked to about it, yes she had her Maman and Uncle to talk about hero stuff, but for the stuff her class does, she only ever vented (without being negative) to her friends.

"Her class is visiting the Botanical Gardens in three days, and it's a 2 part tour, so we can see just what's going on. If it's bad then we scare them a bit, if it's bad bad... they can handle a few slightly poisonous plants right?" - Ivy

"God I love the way ya think Ives, do ya think she can stay with us? I mean look at how cute she is with Bud and Lou... Oh my god, she's cuddlin' dem, and ya gave her a flower crown, how'd I miss that?! Where's the camera?"

Harley took a picture to remind her of this wonderful moment. As Ivy and Harley looked at the picture, they both promised to keep Maria safe, and maybe become sorta kinda-ish parents to her while she's in Gotham.

•—–·Now back to the Bat-Chaos Bat-Cave·–—•

Tim took over the chair and was now searching the possible locations with Jarvis, Damian was sitting on a different chair, trying to act cool, but he wouldn't stop looking over at Tim, to see his progress. Bruce was talking over the comms with Tony. Dick and Jason, weren't helping (they kept feeding each other worse and worse ideas of what could have happened to Maria). Then they heard Jarvis speak.

"I have found the most likely area Ms. Dupain-Cheng would be in. Her phone died about 56 blocks away from her hotel, if we don't count kidnapping, or murder, she would have thought about asking for directions, but may have decided not to considering the city she is in. So that leaves us with a possible 15-25 mile radius from her last known location. I think it best to divide into groups of two, have Oracle stay and update you if anything on security, and or traffic cameras happens. Bruce will be with Tony, Dick will go with Tim, and Jason will go with Damain to search within the area. Stephanie and Cassandra will search around a 5 mile radius near Wayne hotel." as Jarvis continued to explain the other details, the Batfam began to suit up, Batman met up with Iron Man, and they took the North area, Nightwing and Red Robin took the East area, while Red Hood and Robin searched the South. Steph and Cass were on foot in civilian clothes, searching the West area they were assigned.

They searched for the whole day, and came up with nothing. Until Oracle saw a video from a traffic cam around 9pm, 15 blocks away from where her phone died. She called it in and everyone went back to the cave. Once everyone was at the Bat-Computer, Oracle pressed play, the cameras didn't have sound, and it wasn't close enough to see if she was ok.

They watched as she went to an overgrown parking lot and sat down. She was looking down at the ground, and that's when they spotted two figures round the corner and spot her. They watched as the two figures approach Maria, and saw the startled reaction she had. They realized it was Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy that were talking to her, then they saw Maria collapse. They watched as Harley made sure she was ok, looking over to Ivy before looking back to Maria and picking her up. The last thing they saw, was Maria being carried away by two of Gothams' most dangerous rouges, but now they knew where to look next.

•—–· Back to Ivy and Harley ·–—•

Harley continued to take adorable pictures of the children.

"God, they're so f-ckin' cute!" - Harley for the 20th time

As Ivy continued to watch while caring for her plants, Catwoman walked in.

"Hey girls, got the stuff for movie night, so what are we- Holy mother of cats! He adopted another f-cking child didn't he! Where the hell does he keep finding them?! 7 was ment to be the god DAMN LIMIT!!!" - Catwoman

Maria jumped at the sudden shouting and may have accidentally summoned a yo-yo (one made useing creation magic and protection magic) before saying.

"Tikki where's the akuma?! How long was I out?! Forget it Tikki spot-" she then realized she wasn't in Paris, and seeing a new face, she also realized she just spilled her secret to another person within the same day... kinda

"Fffffffffffudge sunday that fell on the pavement!" - Maria shouted in baker profanities

"That's not how ya curse sweetheart. It should go more like-" Harley was cut off by a vine Ivy had summoned.

"Harley, cursing makes the plants sad, you know this." - Ivy said removing the vine

Harley just walked over to Maria and whipsered it in her ear.

"You're supposed to say it more like this, ' ..... .... ... .. ....... .. ... .....' ok?" - Harley ended with a big smile

"... I will never see this world in the same frickin' light ever again." - Maria

"ehh close enough." - Harley

"Can someone please tell me, WTH is going on here, on our special girls day off?!" - Catwoman

"She is a new member of the Sirens as of today, and as a member, she's unda our protection, so effective immediately." - Harley

"Cool." - Maria

"Harley." - Ivy

"Wut... first things first, if she is going to join, she needs to be very flexible, know how to fight, and be incredibly intelligent." - Catwoman

"She beat Ed's @ss with a gun pointed at her, and solved every riddle with ease, so I'm positive she'll be an amazin' addition to the team." - Harley

'God she sounds like a new mother now' "But we don't know how good her flexibility is." - Catwoman

"I know, hey Maria, ya wanna do some tricks with me, of course we need to stretch first, but do ya wanna give it a go?" - Harley

"Sure." - Maria

Ivy and Catwoman sat down on a couch a few feet away from where Maria and Harley stood in the empty part of the building. They started out with stretches, and to Catwoman's surprise (and Harley's delight) Maria copied Harleys streches perfectly.

"Ok, now that that's done, we'll start with some cartwheels, then move on to flips, then handsprings and so on." - Harley

Maria gave Harley a nod... and they were off... literally, Harley did a cartwheel into a handspring, and a few backflips, Maria executed it flawlessly. Harley did some more complicated gymnastics tricks, and Maria did it, Harley did triple backflips going into a cartwheel, into a summersault, and Maria did that perfectly as well. This went on until both Harley and Maria were slightly out of breath, both having massive smiles on their faces.

"Ives, please let her join, she's like a mini me." - Harley then hugged Maria and they somehow both tripled in cuteness as they both did puppy (or Puss In Boots style) eyes at Catwoman and Ivy.

"Sure Harley." - Ivy said walking over to give Harley a small kiss on the cheek.

"Okay... but she doesn't have a costume yet, and she still has to think of a name for herself." - Catwoman

"Is a mouse good, like a mouse themed costume, that or a Turtle themed one. What do you think Harley?" - Maria

"Mmmm, I like that with the mouse you can always toy with Cat, ya know, cat an' mouse stuff, turtle seems... weird even fawh Gotham, so personally I would pick mouse, just because of the cheesy jokes you could do." - Harley

"Very funny, ok then, give me a moment."  Maria then reached out her hand, her eyes then started to glow an icy blue, and a small portal opened in front of her, she reached in and pulled out a small pendant necklace. After she put it on a small mouce appeared and greated itself, Marias' eyes going back to normal after closing the portal.

"Hello I'm Mullo, nice to meet you all."

"Omg omg omg, It's soooo f-ckin' CUTE!" - Harley

"Best to assume all of them are extremely cute Harls." - Ivy

"What the Hell did I miss in the week I was gone?!" - Catwoman

"Ehh, not much, oh but Iron Man did fly aroun' Gotham a few times earlier this mornin' like a madman." - Harley

"Oh sh-t." - Maria

"Maria are ya ok? That was ya first official proper curse in my presence." Harley said looking over to the girl.

"He's gonna kill me." - Maria

"Wait, what do you mean Marigold?" - Ivy

"... He's my Uncle, and I never got to text him I was ok, since my phone died before I met you." - Maria

"Hey, I'm sure he'll understand, now what are we watchin'?" - Harley

"I think we have more important matters other than movies at the moment!" - Catwoman

"Ok, Me Myself and Irene it is." - Harley

"No! You basically kidnapped Iron Mans' NIECE!!!" - Catwoman

"Technically, she fainted and us bein' the good Gothamites we are, decided to take her with us, to make sure she was a-okay." - Harley

"I'm ganna need more than just a six pack of soda to get me through this... Just put the movie on already." - Catwoman

Catwoman sat at the far left end of the couch, next to her sat Ivy, then Maria, and then Harley, Bud and Lou by their feet. All of them sharing one big blanket (Becuase if Iron Man did show up, or any of the birds, then Maria was in a protective burrito and they may not see her right away) and they started the movie.

•—–·–—•

"Oh god, the poor cow." - Maria

.........

"Hahahaha, he stuck a whole f-ckin' chicken head in that guys @ss" - Harley

"The poor chicken." - Maria

"Maria you don't want to see this part." - Ivy then lightly covered her eyes for the ehem, chicken extraction.

.........

"Anyone up for another movie?" - Harley

"That depends." - Ivy

"Any suggestions Cat?" - Harley looked across to the other end of the couch to see Catwoman already sleeping.

"She took her cat-nap already? Seriously?" - Harley

"... What about Pirates of The Caribbean?" - Maria

"I'm good with that." - Ivy

And they started the next movie, Maria was happy, it felt like when her maman and papa would sleep with her when she made a pillow fort. It was a loving atmosphere, it felt safe, and nothing could ruin it. Marias' eyes became heavy, and she leaned her head on Harleys' shoulder, falling asleep after a few minutes.

Ivy paused the move looking over to see both Harley and Maria sleeping, soon Ivy also fell asleep in the comfortable silence.

…………………………

Around an hour later Maria woke up in a panic, she had a nightmare, and kept looking around frantically for someone with tears running down her face.

"What's the matter hun?" - Harley said looking around to see if someone had gotten in. When she looked back at Maria she saw that she was crying.

"What happened?" Harley asked in a kind voice that was filled with motherly love.

"I, just *hic* had a bad dream that's *hic* all, I'm fine." - Maira said trying to wipe the tears away.

"You're ok, I promise nothin's goin' to happen to ya as long as Ivy and I are here, ok hun?" - Harley hugged Maria, and she could feel the girl let out a few more sobs, and quick breathes.

"Thanks Maman." Maria didn't even realize what she had said, it just felt natural for her to say it.

"You're welcome hun." 'Omg I'm gonna cry, she called me maman!' Harley rubbed small circles over Marias' back, and began humming until she fell asleep, she continued to hug Maria until she also fell asleep.

•—–· Back to the Chaos Bat-Cave ·–—•

"What do you mean she's with two of Gotham City's Sirens?!" - Tony

"Tony, calm down, I'll call Selina, she can talk to them and get this all sorted out." - Bruce

"Your fiancee is a Gotham Siren too?! Why didn't you tell me?!" - Tony

"Why isn't she picking up? And unlike some people, this family doesn't like outing our secret identities... on live TV." - Bruce

"Oh well excuse me for not keeping my secret identity a SECRET!" - Tony

"I'll try calling her one more time." - Bruce

"Bruce, it's 3am. Who in their right mind ever stays up this late.... aside from this family." - Tim with a giant coffee mug in hand.

"... I'll just call her one more time." Bruce then connected it to the Bat-Computer so everyone could hear.

•—–· Back to the Sirens ·–—•

Catwoman's phone is ringing like crazy, waking everyone up, including a tired, annoyed, and confused Selina.

"Wth does he want at 3 in the morning?!" - Selina

"Just answer it so we can keep sleepin'." - Harley still hugging Maria

"I'm putting it on speaker, so you lot can testify against his @ss in court, for disturbing the peace."

•—–· Over to Batsy ·–—•

"Selina I need to ask-"

"WHAT THE F-CKING HELL DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND ABOUT A GOOD NIGHTS REST!" - Selina

"Oooooh, she sounds pissed Bruce." - Jason

"I'm sorry to call you at this hour, but we need to find a girl that looks just like every single one of my other kids." - Bruce

"Bruce... I thought we agreed that 7 kids was. the. f-cking. limit." - Selina

•—–· Back to the Sirens ·–—•

Selina looked over to Maria before muting the speaker.

"Do you want them to know you're here Kitten?" - Selina

"... I'm tired, I haven't had coffee, I have no filter, so f-ck it, act like you never saw me today, and let them drown in chaos. " - Maria

"I think I like filter less Maria." - Harley

"Okay." Selina shrugged her shoulders and then un-muted her phone, putting it back on speaker mode.

"Where was she last seen?" - Selina

"She was last seen with Harley and Poison Ivy, I want you to see if she's still with them." - Bruce

Selina looked over to Maria and Harley, both of them shook their heads with mischievous grins.

"I've been with them all day, and I haven't once seen a girl that looks like your kids. Now can I go back to sleep, and forget this ever happened?" - Selina

"WHERE IS MY NIECE!!!" - Tony

"Oh, hey Tony, didn't know you were there, don't know who, or where your niece is, but good luck trying to find her. Oh and Bruce, I'm shutting my phone off so you don't keep calling till the butt crack of dawn. And congrats it's now 4am. you owe me a lunch date, uh-ba-bye." Selina then hung up her phone and turned it off.

"That went pretty well if you ask me, now I'm going back to sleep." - Selina

•—–· Back to Batsy ·–—•

The room was silent for a few minutes before Jason spoke up.

"Does that mean that Pixiepop ran away and is even more lost now?!" - Jason

"Oh god, what do we do, what if she got hurt?!" - Dick

"What if she got kidnapped?!" - Jason

"What if she's with a big time Gotham Villain?!" - Dick

"... What if she got more coffee?" - Tim

"Oh Hell No" - Jason/Dick

"... Lets all go to sleep, and when we wake up, we'll head over to their base and double check. She could've just said that because I called her at 3am." - Bruce

"But my niece is still out there!" - Tony

"You're going to sleep Tony." - Pepper then dragged Tony to his room.

•—–· Back to Maria ·–—•

Selina went to a different part of the building, where Maria assumed the bedrooms were. Ivy had gone to the greenhouse to be with the plants, and now it was just her and Harley left on the couch, and she couldn't sleep.

"... Harley?" - Maria

"Yeah hun?" - Harley

"I can't sleep." - Maria

"Well, watcha wanna do till ya get tired?" Harley asked sitting up a little straighter to get a better look at Maria.

Maria gave a sly smile, and looked Harley in the eyes "Want to go free-running on the rooftops?"

"... Alright, but lets get some coffee, and a snack in us first." - Harley gave her a side hug, before getting up to go make the coffee, and grab some snacks.

After they had their coffee, they climbed to the roof of the base. Harley was in her outfit, bat in hand and ready to do some bonding.

"So, how does ya outfit work?" - Harley

"Like so, ready Mullo?" - Maria

"Yes Maria" - Mullo

"Ok, Mullo, Get Squeaky!" A bright light flashes, and when Harley could see again, Maria was in a dark gray suit, wearing black knee high boots, with a strip of pink at the knee, and black elbow length gloves with the same pink strip at her elbow. Her mask was a slightly lighter gray on the top part, and pink on the bottom. Her hair was pulled into two buns with pink ribbons that faded to gray, and to black at the very tip. Her jump rope around her waist forming a tail going just below the back of her knees.

"Just when I think ya can't get any more adorable. So what should I call ya?" - Harley

"You can call me Multimouse." - Maria

Soon they were racing and doing tricks off different roofs, they were really enjoying themselves. From one of the roofs they heard a commotion in one of the alleys, when they looked down they saw a man holding a woman at gunpoint.

"Not good, seems like he's got issues, probably lost his lover, most likely has additions to drugs and alcohol, and seems to be a little tipsy." - Harley

"I've got a plan." - Multimouse

…………

Multimouse droped a little way behind the guy, grabbing his attention while Harley got the lady to safety.

"You know there's a help center two blocks from here that would be more than willing to help you." - Multimouse

The crook just raised his gun to her trying to keep it steady as he spoke.

"Give me all your money little girl, or else I'll hurt you."

"1. That's not how you hold a gun. 2. That is no way to treat any girl. and 3. Instead of money, I'll give you my jump rope." - Multimouse

"Why the hell would I want your jump rope, that thing looks worthless." the crook lowered his guard enough as Multimouse pretended to hand over her jump rope, only to use it in a quick motion to dismarm the man, as Harley promptly knocked him out with one swing.

"Lets neva have ya at gunpoint again, okay hun? I'm afraid my heart can't take it." - Harley said while tying the crook to a lamppost.

"Sorry, but it was the best idea I could come up with at the moment, besides, any guy with a gun would feel like they have the upper hand if they're facing a random little girl with a jump rope, rather than Gothams' Harley Quinn with a bat." - Multimouse

"Sadly I'm just too popular with the kiddos on the street." - Harley

…………

They continued to stop a few more muggers on the way back to the base, and when they got back they peaked around the corner to see the whole Batfam plus Iron Man talking with Ivy and Selina.

"How much you want to bet we can get back out before they see us?" - Whispering Multimouse

"... Lets try hidin' in the kitchen." - Whispering Harley

As they tried to sneak by (still in their costumes) Selina just walks over and draggs them to the group.

"Here, now let me sleep!" - Selina

"Dang it Selina we wanted tah see just how long we could hide out in the kitchen!" - Harley

Selina did a double take now realizing they both went out.

"... You didn't." - Selina

"We wanted tah go free-runnin'! So what?" - Harley

"She could've gotten hurt Harls." - Ivy

"My suits magic, I am invulnerable to bullets, normal magic, swords, knifes, anything staby staby, and I can withstand any temperature in it." Multimouse said with a slight pout.

"Hold up, is she a magical girl?" - Red Hood in the background

When Selina let go both Harley and Multimouse went behind Ivy for protection.

"We can still make a run for it." - Harley whispered to Multimouse

"... Ok, I'll meet you on the roof." - Whispering Multimouse

Harley gave a nod as she slowly inched her wasy closer to the door that lead to the roof, as she saw Iron Man approach Multimouse.

"Please get out of your suit, we need to talk about why you're here-" - Iron Man

"Multitute!" - Multimouse

Harley then saw Multimouse shrink into dozens of tiny little versions of herself as her clones spread out in all directions, one of which was heading right for her.

"Wth, you never told us she could use magic!" - Red Robin

Harley picked her up, and slipped through the door without anyone noticing.

"That was great, but how do ya get back tuh normal size?" - Harley

"Simple, I just merge back with my clones." As she said this, all her clones came back, and she merged with herself, becoming normal sized again.

"Where to?" - Multimouse

………… So now The Batfam is trying to find many long gone Mini-Multimouses, and Harley seems to have disappeared with her. Harley and Multimouse are now running over the roofs, heading for Wayne Manor.

"So why are we going to Wayne Manor?" - Multimouse

"Because, Batsy will neva think of lookin' for us at his own home, at least not fawh a little while." - Harley

When they arrived at the Manor, Multimouse de-transformed as Harley knocked on the door.

"Ms. Quinn, Ms. Maria, pleasure to see you here, please come in." - Alfred

"Are any of the bat-birds here?" - Harley

"Ms. Barbara, Ms. Stephanie, and Ms. Cassandra are the only ones here at the moment." - Alfred

"Do ya think you can keep us bein' here a secret from Batsy?" - Harley

"Harley? What are you doing here with Maria?" - Barbara

"It seems that Ms. Harley and Ms. Maria are now playing hide and seek with the rest of the family." - Alfred

"Did someone say hide and seek?" - Steph

"Yes, so could we maybe try and keep this a secret from everyone else, please?" - Maria

"Sure, it was starting to get boring around here. We can all hide in the living room no one ever use. Barbara you show them the way, I'll get the food/drinks and boardgames." - Steph

"Is this alright with you Alfred?" Maria

"It's all right Ms. Maria, you can hide out in the old living room." - Alfred

"Thanks Alfie, ya the best." - Harley

"Thank you Alfred." - Maria

"Ok then, follow me." - Barbara

…………

In the old living room, Harley, Maria, Barbara, Steph, and Cass began to formulate a plan.

"Ok, so the best way for them to never find you is to have your phone off, stay away from any and all cameras, and show your face to no one." - Steph

"So, do you have anything in mind that you might want to do?" - Barbara

"Can we put them on a wild goose chase?" - Maria

Cass nodded to Marias' suggestion approvingly.

"I can hack a few traffic cams to help with that." - Barbara

"We can also throw in some useless hints, to throw dem even further off our scent." - Harley

"Good idea Harley." - Barbara

"Thanks, but how long do ya think we should make it last?" - Harley

"As long as Maria wants it to." - Barbara

"Then let the games begin." - Maria.

•—–—–·†·–—–—•

Chapter 5 complete. Hope everyone is stayin' safe, Rockin' those Positive Vibes, and havin' an absolutely wonderful day. BUG-OUT 🐞💮🐞

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜Tag List〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

1st Place★: @animegirlweeb ☕ , 2nd Place★: @jumpingjoy82, 3rd Place★: @zalladane, 4th Place★: @jayjayspixiepop, 5th Place★: @arty-shadow-morningstar, 6th Place★: @smol-book-nerd, 7th Place★: @irontimetravelflower, 8th Place★: @fandom-trapped-03, 9th Place★: @meme991001, 10th Place★: @buginetye, 11th Place★: @blackroserelina, 12th Place★: @jessigurl-design, 13th Place★: @adrestar, 14th Place★: @moon5608, 15th Place★: @little-bluestar, 17th Place★: @myazael, 18th Place★: @our-preciousss, 19th Place★: @wolf2118, 20th Place★: @nyx-in-line, 21st Place★: @kking13, 22nd Place★: @lunerlover2024, 23rd Place★: @moonlightstar64, 24th Place★: @corporeal-terrestrial, 25th Place★: @kashlyn, 26th Place★: @tbehartoo, 27th Place★: @heart-charming, 28th Place★: @solangelo252, 29th Place★: @t1dwarrior-of-earth, 30th Place★: @lady-phoenix-of-tardis, @lupagrimm

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 10: Light

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Light Rated: T A/N: This is just a fun silly story.

"Aren't we a little old for this?" Marinette wondered aloud, the three of them decided to move to Gotham city after they finished Lycée.

"We live in a world with superheroes, magic, and literal aliens, but you don't think there's anything spooky about Wayne Manor?" Alya cocked an eyebrow, Marinette shook her head.

"I hate to agree with Marinette," Chloe sighed, "but maybe getting in trouble with the local billionaire is probably not the first thing people do when they move to a new city".

"Hey, you're the one who said there was something off about them." Alya argued.

"I said one of them looked like his son who died a few years ago." Chloe reminded her. "Besides, when I met this person, he seemed bored by the whole thing. Probably counting the number of drinks he could down until it was over." "So you're just mad he didn't want to talk to you?" Alya joked.

"I think the only words he said to me were, 'do you have a light?' and nothing else." Chloe recalled. They both looked up to find that while they were bickering, Marinette was gone.  "See, Marinette thought this whole thing was so stupid that she just walked away and left us here." Chloe scoffed.  She would have been right, had Alya not seen Marinette climbing down the other side of the wall.

"What are you thinking?" Chloe hissed.

"Bring me back a souvenir" Alya called, before Chloe clamped her mouth shut with her hand.  

Marinette looked around the old manor house, as she felt the crunch of gravel beneath her shoes.  It was certainly the kind of place people thought of when they imagined a place that housed a literally bloodthirsty coven of vampires.  As she came to a pair of large double doors, she looked back to see that Chloe and Alya had gone back to arguing. There was no turning back now, as she pushed open one of the heavy doors and let herself in.

She didn’t know how to feel when she found out that the big, grand, old manor house was also dark and empty.    She also thought it was dark, but didn’t want to alert anyone by turning the lights on.  Marinette saw there was a candle on the side table, probably used because it smelled nice more than anything.  She picked up the candle and took a little whiff before lighting it with a small lighter she kept in her handbag.  Gently and quietly, she decided to explore the grand old house.  Maybe find something to prove to Alya and Chloe that she had been inside. Jason preferred to keep to himself in the library, Bruce and the others were away attending an event that he and Alfred were exempt from.  It means that he got to sit by the window and immerse himself in yet another slow burn gothic novel.  Most likely one involving a Byronic hero and the ingenue who is drawn to him like a moth to a flame.  At the very least, it meant an afternoon where he wouldn’t be disturbed by Bruce, Dick, Replacement or Demon Spawn.  His plan was cut short, however, when he heard the creak of the door to the library.  Jason took one look and saw that it wasn’t Alfred. For one thing, this person looked more like a small young woman.  Was she Replacement’s secretary? No.  For one thing she was dressed in casual clothes, and secondly she was carrying a small candle in her hands.  She carefully set it down on the library table, trying to keep it as far away from the other books as possible. Marinette set foot inside what looked like a library inside the house.  She set the candle down on the library table, and was startled to find that there was, in fact, someone in this house.  “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, Marinette swallowed as she tried to think of an excuse. “I uh, I’m here because,” she stammered, the man staring down at her raised an eyebrow. As if waiting for whatever excuse she came up with and knowing full well it would be a lie. “I spent the night here, and got lost on my way out.” Marinette spluttered, if they were anything like Chloe described, at least one of them would be the type to bring girls back here.  Though if Alya’s vampire theory was true, who’s to say that the girls who entered this house ever left.  Still, she had to give it a try. “Alright then, with who?” he asked, there was a smirk on his face, as if to say “this was going to be good”. Marinette’s mind scrambled for a name that Chloe might have mentioned, “Tim?” she said. “Was that a question or an answer?” the man asked. “Little Timmy the usurper isn't one to bring girls in.” “How would you know?” she asked, “I mean he’s one of the youngest CEOs in Gotham City, never mind the world”. So that’s how she was going to play it.  Jason was slightly disappointed, if she was going to lie about spending the night here she could at least make it sound believable.  She wore a pink bunny rabbit hoodie and a pair of jeans with some pink flats. It was cute but not flashy enough to make her excuse believable.   Besides, nothing and no one made their way in or out of Wayne Manor without Alfred knowing. “Well when you put it that way, why don't you tell me, what were you and Timmy doing last night?” Jason asked, the jig was up, he gave her points for creativity.  If she answered anything besides “watch in horror as Tim drank his 10th espresso” it was game over.  Instead she said nothing, because she didn’t do anything.    “So why did you really come here?” he asked, smirking down at her.  “Who sent you here? And this time, name someone who actually has a chance with a girl.” Jason joked. “No one, well,” Marinette stammered, she really didn’t want to throw Chloe and Alya under the bus. “One of my friends thought she saw you at a party, and thought you looked familiar.  Another friend thought you were a vampire, for some reason, I don’t know and…” Marinette realised how silly this was all starting to sound.  If she had any dignity left, she would run for the front door and consider moving to Metropolis and never show her face in Gotham City ever again. “You had me at ‘vampire’, so what, your friends want you to come back with a hickey?”  Jason asked, the young woman’s face turned beet red. “N-no, not exactly, just proof that one of them is right or wrong, I guess.” Jason found this absolutely hilarious, she wasn’t entirely wrong.  He just didn’t have the fangs or the shapeshifting powers. If someone could keep him in his next coffin by putting a rose stalk on it, that would be nice.  If he was going to be legally dead, he might as well have some fun with it. Chloe and Alya were pacing the outside of the manor, worried that someone walking past would think that they looked suspicious.  Moments later, they saw an elderly man hold the door open while Marinette skipped out the front door.  Alya and Chloe watched in amazement as she waved a little polaroid photo in her hand.  “Where were you?” Alya asked, “were you in the house or the pocket dimension?”. “It took me a while, but I managed to get you this,” she whipped out the photo for the both of them to see.  In her hand was a polaroid of the boy that Chloe had met at the gala, only this time he was standing in front of a mirror with no reflection.  Upon seeing the photo of the man without a reflection, Chloe felt faint, while Alya grabbed the photo for a closer look. “See, see? I was right”! she cheered. Chloe placed a hand on a nearby lamppost “This isn't something to be cheering about! We need to get out of here!” Marinette watched as they argued while keeping her real gift close to her chest, a little card that said “an invitation from a vampire to come back and visit sometime -J”.  Marinette smiled as she pocketed the note, listening to her friends bicker all the way home.

[colehasapen]

(ONE SHOT) I see ghosts in their smiles  DC

A03

Bruce never fully understood the relationship between Flash and Green Lantern. At a glance, they were so different that logically one would think that they'd fight more than they had, but that had never been the case; Barry and Hal had bickered, had argued, but rarely ever fought. Barry had been mild mannered and polite, while Hal was brash and confident, but these differences hadn’t driven them apart, in fact, it had brought them together. The two of them had been a pair on and off of missions, though many hadn't known the true extent.

Not until it was too late.

The Founders though, they’d all been well aware. They’d had a front row seat to the evolution of the relationship between the two of their more colourful members. They’d seen the two of them go from acquaintances to teammates, to friends, and then to lovers. They’d all teased them in their own ways, found them wrapped around each other in some way or another; they’d interrupted dates for missions, had stumbled across them in embarrassingly compromising situations, had even offered them their blessings, because despite everything, Barry and Hal were good for each other. Somehow, despite being the two most scattered members of the League, they managed to ground each other.

Barry and Hal had been a good pair, but Barry’s death had been the start of Hal’s downward spiral. Barry’s death had been a wake up call for them all, in the same way Jason’s death had been for Bruce; they’d all known, of course, that they were flirting with death everyday, but it hadn’t truly sunk in for a lot of them until Barry had sacrificed himself to save the world.

Now, they were both gone. Both dead; and despite all the differences Bruce had had with them - Jordan more so than Barry - he  misses them.

He misses the old Flash and Green Lantern, more than he ever thought he would. It makes the fact that there’s two new heroes in their place all the more painful.

Wally West and Kyle Rayner.

Bruce has known Wally since the boy was a lanky teen in yellow following his uncle like a cheerful, friendly shadow. He’s known the young man since he was a child, and it’s strange, seeing him in Barry’s place. It’s thrown all of them off balance, having one of the children they helped train standing among them. Wally’s the Flash now, a young man, but Bruce still looks at him and sees the child that used to come over every weekend to play with Dick.

Kyle Rayner doesn’t have that same history. For all intents and purposes, he had been a normal kid until the ring had chosen him and he’d become the last Green Lantern in the galaxy. He’s a nice enough kid, of an age with Bruce’s own boys, with a relatively clean record that paints an image of a friendly, easy-going artist with his head in the clouds. He’s good at what he does, despite learning it all on his own, and mostly competent despite how new he was at hero-ing. But Hal’s actions had proved that they had to be wary of Lanterns, proved that Bruce had gotten too complacent around his teammates, and he wouldn’t make that mistake again. Bruce keeps the new Lantern at an arm’s distance, close enough to stop if he loses it too.

Watching them together is like looking at ghosts.

"It's like watching  them all over again." Clark’s voice is nostalgic and sad, and Bruce very pointedly forces his eyes away from the two young men huddled together near the back of the cafeteria. Superman’s eyes are distant, but there's a light of understanding inside of them when he meets the other hero’s gaze.

Clark knows him too well.

Despite not answering verbally, Bruce inclines his head and grunts.

Wally and Kyle had been a couple no one had suspected, not with the way the two of them bickered. They’re both young, rash, impetuous, and it tends to lend to an image of two young cats hissing and spitting over territory; somehow, without any of them really noticing, the two youngest main roster members of the League had drifted together and meshed despite everything. The arguing had gone from genuine antagonism to something fun and easy that others often found amusing in darker situations.

Now, it wasn’t surprising to see them tucked together with some game or another, or surrounded by snacks in the common room. There had been plenty of talk between the older members of the League, those who had known about their predecessors’ relationship, about another iconic Flash-Green Lantern duo, to the point where Bruce almost decides to not put the two young men on missions together any more, just to avoid having to look at ghosts every day.

But they were good at what they do, and they work well together, despite their bickering, almost like they know instinctively what the other needs in the thick of things without needing to communicate. They tend to poke each other into going beyond their limits with well-placed quips and jokes, and they get the job done quickly and efficiently.

It really was like looking at Barry and Hal again, and maybe that wasn’t a good thing, considering Barry’s death had just been the start of Jordan’s spiral.

Clark offers him a sympathetic smile, “The kids are growing up fast.” The Kryptonian hums slightly, slanting him a slight look. “I always thought it would be Dick and Wally in the end.”

He’d thought the same too, but Dick wouldn’t appreciate his thoughts on it.

Bruce winces slightly, “Nightwing’s happy with Starfire and Oracle.” He says. He’d always thought the same, with the way his ward and Barry’s nephew had been as teens; he knew they’d tried it, had experimented together quite frequently, just like he knew they ended it on good terms as friends, because it was what worked best for them, in the end.

They’d been good together, but they’d decided they were better as friends and teammates, and Bruce would respect that choice. It was the least he could do, after everything he’d put Dick through.

Clark nods his head, right as a burst of laughter drags both of their attention back to where Kyle and Wally are sitting. At some point, Kyle had flipped his sketchbook construct to show whatever he had been drawing to the redhead, who had dissolved into cackles at whatever was on the page, snickering into his food. As they watch, the young Green Lantern grins boyishly, leaning forward to give the speedster a quick peck on the cheek before shoving a hand full of fries into Wally’s mouth and laughing himself.

Around them, the noise had drawn the attention of other heroes in the cafeteria, and Bruce doesn’t need to look to see that they’re all softening at the sight of the two young men.

“They’re their own people.” Bruce says finally, “Their own heroes.”

Clark nods, expression soft, “It’s different.” He admits, “But sometimes I still end up calling them by another name.” He shrugs, looking repentant, when Bruce frowns at him. “I called Wally, Barry the other day during monitor duty, because he said something that reminded me too much of him. I mean, it’s not surprising that he  would act like Barry - but it throws me off sometimes.” Clark looks sheepish, apologetic, “It’s strange, having Wally working with us. He’s a good kid, but-”

“-But he’s not Barry.” Bruce agrees with a sigh. “We always knew he would take over as the Flash after Barry.” Barry hadn’t exactly been quiet about it; he’d been so proud of his nephew, and would tell anyone who listened that Wally would become the Flash someday, that he’d be even better than Barry.

“I’d always hoped it would be because Barry retired.” Clark says sadly, “Have a few kids; they did such a good job with Wally. Maybe he and Iris would have managed to talk Hal into coming with them - Hal never could deny them anything, even if he tried to act tough.”

But they were all dead - Iris first, then Barry, and then Jordan.

“Kyle’s a good kid, too.” Superman continues, “Ernest, creative, even if he’s a little rough around the edges. The Lanterns would have loved him - probably would have taken him under their wings.”

Bruce grunts, and Clark slants him a knowing look. As much as he likes Rayner as a person, or how much he reminds him of Dick, he can’t trust him, not after Jordan proved to them how dangerous an uncontrolled Lantern could be.

“He’s  not Hal, Bruce.” Clark points out, “And Hal did the right thing, in the end - thanks to him.”

“Jordan proved that I was getting too complacent.” Bruce says blankly, “Every hero here is just one bad day away from becoming the very thing we fight.”

Clark sighs, leaning forward to press a kiss against Bruce’s cheek, there and gone. “My break’s over.” The Kryptonian says apologetically, smiling. “You should go home and get some sleep, Bruce. A full eight hours, at least.”

Another laugh rings out, and Bruce turns his head just enough to see that Wally had scooted his chair closer to Kyle’s, their knees bumping, and he’s moving to playfully pull the dark haired Lantern closer to press their lips together with a cheeky grin. The ketchup smeared across the artist’s cheek was proof enough of what they had been doing before.

It’s damningly charming, and sweet, but all Bruce can think when he sees them is that there’s a chance they could end up in the same situation as Barry and Hal. There’s too many ghosts in his head, too many skeletons in his closet, and two of them wear crimson and green.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Hi! I’m a big fan of your work!! I am looking for more but unfortunately I feel like I have read all yhe good Harry Potter docs on Ao3. Do you have any recs?

Sorry for the delay, I just know that whenever I make rec list it usually ends up taking a while.

With that, Harry Potter fics are a big genre. Just saying Harry Potter in general really isn’t that specific to me so this is across genres/character focuses/you name it.

Also, as usual, I’ve been on fanfiction longer and have amassed more favorites there. Some of these are cross posted to Ao3. Similarly, a lot are unfinished, this personally doesn’t bother me but if it bothers you take heed.

Also, you’ll see my embarrassing obsession with Tom Riddle. So, heads up for that.

Stepbrother (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, period piece, in which the two remind me a lot of Nabokov)

Cat Among the Pigeons (Tom Riddle/Lily Evans, Psycho-Pass Detective AU, in which I am a beta actually so my promoting this goes without saying)

Til Death Do Us Part (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Voldemort wins AU, which for me does very well with the concept of immortality and what exactly Tom is supposed to do after he wins)

This Tangle of Thorns (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, modern AH AU, a full on Nabokov inspired fic which I enjoy because Lolita)

Delusional (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, sort of. Harry wins the war, goes crazy, checks into a mental hospital. Or he’s not crazy and Voldemort is as unkillable as Palpatine.)

Harry Potter and the Natural 20 (OC insert, D&D inspired, shameless crack. I mostly enjoy the beginning of this but it makes me laugh enough to recommend.)

A Hairy Business (AU, Harry is a deer, he is literally a deer, that’s it. It’s funny.)

Animus, Anima (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time, gets stuck in Tom Riddle’s brain, and it turns out Harry’s responsible for every terrible thing that ever happened. This one was squicky even for me, very well done, but strap in.)

Addendum, He is Also a Liar (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Tom has an inexplicable ability to travel to the future, but only to this random little girl Hermione Granger)

Framed & Fractured (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry gets stuck in an evil painting back in time. Tom is creepy as usual.)

Trying for Eden (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time to lecture Tom into morality. It doesn’t work.)

Magical Mirrors (Luna Lovegood and Severus Snape, Luna and Snape stumble on the Mirror of Erised at the same time and strike up a conversation)

Aphelion (Hermione Granger/Loki, MCU crossover, Hermione and Loki strike up the world’s weirdest toxic friendship when Hermione’s young and attending Hogwarts, this leads terrible places as Loki slides into madness and despair)

Wandering Souls (Luna Lovegood and The Undertaker, Black Butler crossover, Luna meets and strikes up a conversation with the Undertaker)

Of Lies Most Beautiful (Tom Riddle, Hunger Games crossover, Tom wins the Hunger Games becaues that’s what he does bitch)

In Wonderland (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry ends up back in the past and decides to raise Tom Riddle. This goes so poorly that the pair almost get eaten by eldritch gods multiple times.)

Rumpelstiltskin, Guess My Name (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Female Harry travels back in time and offers to save Merope’s life/get her Tom Riddle Sr. the non rapey way in return for her firstborn son. Merope thought Harry was joking. She wasn’t joking. In the sequel, also linked, Harry kills Morfin.)

The Eyes (Harry Potter, AU, turns out “the power he knows not” is the power humanity knows not, Harry’s ability to see eldritch abominations and cosmic gods and thus bring them far enough into our reality that they eat everything. And I mean everything.)

Mirror Mirror (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry makes a huge mistake and stops Hulk in the middle of a rampage. This gets him abducted by octopus nazis.)

I See the Moon (Harry Potter and Bruce Banner, MCU crossover, Harry got brain damage from the war and wanders around the middle of nowhere. He runs into Bruce. He’s now Bruce’s only friend.)

You Will Be the Death of Me (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Despicable Me inspired, through a series of convoluted events Tom as the world’s worst father figure ends up raising Harry the sad adorable orphan.)

In Death, Standby (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter (sort of, the authro claims), Tom raises Harry, the only Tom raises Harry that I’ve seen done well because Tom is the world’s worst father. Harry thinks he’s a deformed snake until the age of three.)

Little Harry’s Mirkwood Adventure (Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley, Hobbit Crossover, one of the most Tolkien style crossovers I’ve actually seen and is very good)

A (Self-Imposed) Trap for a Fool (Ginny Weasley, turns out Harry Potter never existed, as in he’s a collective hallucination made up by the entire wizarding world)

McLaggen and From McLaggen with Love (McLaggen, a detective AU then a James Bond style adventure starring McLaggen, the greatest wizard who ever wizarded)

Tom Riddle’s Diary: on keeping devils in the summer (Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle’s antichrist orphan adventures involving exorcism and burning people alive)

and the fates sing (hold on, son) (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry is the son of Loki and like all children of Loki he is a wretched and cursed thing)

A Faulty Master (Harry Potter and Itachi Uchiha, Naruto crossover, Itachi after the massacre of his family has a run in with a master of death Harry, who is a creepy creepy man)

Eye of Reason (Harry Potter/Jack Frost, Rise of the Guardians crossover, due to the mythos surrounding his life Harry ceases to be a man and becomes akin to a god)

Flowers for a Ghost (Luna Lovegood and Itachi Uchiha, Naruto Crossover, Luna befriends a blind ghost)

Third Time’s the Charm (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Bruce Banner keeps trying to kill himself and MoD Harry is there to have himself a real good day)

Blind Faith (Bellatrix LeStrange/Tom Riddle, canon compliant, an in depth look at Bellatrix from the escape of Azkaban onward)

Cocktail Time (Rita Skeeter and Gilderoy Lockhart, Rita does an expose and autobiography detailing the descent of Gilderoy Lockhart and how he became what he became)

Fantastic Elves and Where to Find Them (Harry Potter, canon divergent AU, Harry thinks he’s an elf. That’s it.)

The Twine Bracelet (Colin Creevy, a look at Colin’s death) 

Legal Alien (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry visits New York and an alien invasion breaks out. Culminates with the best, dumb, joke.)

The Root of Desire (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Hermione travels back in time and tries to influence Tom. All this does is inspire his sexual awakening.)

Deadheads (Harry Potter/Godric Gryffindor, a romantic comedy of a kind, culminating in the best dumbest joke)

Give and Take (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Hermione tries to outwit Tom, it ends in despair)

The Road to Somewhere (Harry Potter, Spirited Away crossover, Harry as MoD is in the realm of the spirits)

Absolute (Harry Potter, Harry picks up a death note, he kills everyone)

Fortunate Son (Dudley Dursleys, years afterwards Dudley looks back and writes a memoir and expose about the abuse inflicted on his cousin)

Elective Affinities (Severus Snape/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time to discover his parents are assholes and things are more complicated than he imagined)

Juxtaposed (Bod, Graveyard Book crossover, Bod attends Hogwarts)

The Fire Omens (Tom Riddle and a look at WWII)

Broken Toys (Tom Riddle and his useless broken toys)

The Fine Art of Poisoning (Madame Zabini)

A Marriage of Convenience (Pansy and Theo get married)

Reparabilis (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom becomes a professor, he still destroys Harry Potter)

The Unforgivable Curses (Draco Malfoy, a look at the 4th year unforgivable lecture with Moody and the Slytherins)

Ugly (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy one sided Dudley/Harry Potter, Dudley’s fat, ugly, and creeps on his cousin)

Three Can Keep a Secret (Harry Potter, on secrets and secret keeping)

Caveat Incimici (Hermione Granger, on Hermione and her terrifying wrath)

Babylon (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry never gets rid of Tom)

Wonderful Tragic Mysterious (Luna Lovegood and Albus Dumbledore, Luna Lovegood time travels and becomes a young Albus’ neighbor)

In the Clockface, Weighted and Weary (Harry Potter/Ariana Dumbledore, Harry after DH ends up back in time in Dumbledore’s childhood and witnesses the beautiful Dumbledore family dysfunction)

Eternal Return (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry is reincarnated as Tom Riddle and as a result becomes Voldemort so that a Voldemort exists)

Like Pale Fire (Harry Potter/Godric Gryffindor, the Founders are resurrected and it turns out Harry had travelled to the past and become Salazar Slytherin, turns out the Founders were more complicated than people expected.)

12 Moves Sideways (Harry Potter and Light Yagami, Death Note crossover, Light becomes the Defense Professor, for once Harry does not figure out the mystery.)

A Very Young Girl’s Record of Her Own Impressions (Ariana Dumbledore’s diary)

Night Comes Early (Moody on war)

Little Witches (The Black family women and how it all falls apart)

Paved with Good Intentions (Petunia on finding a baby on her doorstep)

Emerald Serpent for Vanity (Draco and Nagini introspective)

Blue (Tom Riddle/Bellatrix LeStrange, Voldemort wins dystopia, Tom visits Bellatrix’s grave and is very crazy)

Eighteen (Hermione Granger, on Hermione’s betrayal of her parents)

Ouroboros (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, on what they’ve made of each other)

Not so Different (Scout, To Kill a Mockingbird Crossover, Scout reflects on the wizarding world’s raicsm)

Traitor (Hermione Granger, Hermione is captured by the Death Eaters and commits unspeakable acts to free herself)

Smashing Mirrors (Tom Riddle, introspective)

Twelve Dark Moons (Luna Lovegood/Tom Riddle, Luna becomes a captive of the dark lord)

Full Circle (Harry Potter, Harry wins and is miserable)

The Web of a Thousand Spiders (Luna Lovegood on the diary)

The Metronome (The fall of Lucius’ entire generation)

Understand (Hermione Granger and her betrayal of her parents)

Tea with the Headmaster (Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, the pair have tea)

This Grief Feeling (Hermione Granger and Severus Snape after the end)

After Innocence (The trio after the end)

Of Great Turmoil and Excess Stupidity (Sesshomaru and Hagrid, Inuyasha crossover, Hagrid decides to capture a demon for class)

What’s Left of Hope (Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, on preserving hope)

In His Keep (Severus Snape and Luna Lovegood, Snape informs Luna her father has died)

Wednesday (Petunia Evans, introspective)

In the Presence of Angels (Moody in WWII)

What He Grows to Be (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry Potter raises Tom Riddle in the past and it goes horribly wrong)

Being Cassandra (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Tom, and their strange AU friendship)

The Girl (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, a fem Harry Potter keeps accidentally appearing in Tom’s childhood)

Corruption (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom wins AU and female Harry slowly becomes corrupted)

One Night Stand (Tom Riddle/Lily Evans, a wonderful look on the first war, Tom Riddle, Lily Evans, the Order of the Phoenix, and terrorism)

The Voldemort Principle (Severus Snape, turns out Snape was Voldemort the whole time and Harry is a lying liar who lies)

Harry Potter and the mountain of pure diamond (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry has become an ageless god who travels worlds and decides to raise Tom Riddle. He’s disturbed when he realizes Tom is more of a person than he is)

A Road Less Travelled By (Harry Potter/Lucius Malfoy, Harry’s a veela, just read it, it’s amazing, I know I sound crazy but it is)

Transformation (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Draco gets eaten by the Forbidden Forest and then Harry gets eaten too)

Rock Bottom (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom gets trapped being defense professor and has a miserable time)

[yetanotherhiddlestoner]

                            The Asgardian and his Atlantean.

  (First time writing a marvel related story and and LokiXreader one at that. So forgive the way it is. I got bored one night watching Atlantis on Disney that I came up with this mixture of a story. Hope you enjoy I own nothing of marvels or disney’s. This story is also on my Wattpad -https://www.wattpad.com/user/HatterMoon )

Life at Stark Tower was good for you. All the Avengers loved you and they treated you like family. You loved helping out Tony the most with his suits and helping him advance the technology. This morning started like any other day, you woke before the sun had started to shine in the sky, you check your pendent. A couple more days before you need to be returning home.

You prepared breakfast for everyone, despite being told numerous times that you didn't need to do it.

You made sure to brew enough coffee for everyone as they all seem to need it first thing in the morning. You preferred tea to start your day, and so they have gifted you your own tea pot and tea set at Christmas.

The first to wander in was Nat, still in his PJ's with messy hair and rubbing her eyes, you chuckle silently. "Morning Nat. Sleep well?" She mumbled a reply, followed by the words "Need Coffee" One by one all the Avengers entered the common room, some more awake then others. "Tony where is Steve and Bucky?" Wanda asks as you take in notice that you are two short. "They left on a mission last night so for the time being it will just be us." Tony answers "Good Morning Y/N." Bruce said as he come to stand beside you. "Morning Bruce. I might need the lab later today to test out some test for healing drinks is that fine with you? "Hey I only borrow the Lab myself you best ask Tony since you know, he owns it" "I know but you are the one in there most of the time. It feels like I am invading  your space" "You can use the Lab Y/N. Do I need to remind you that you live here, you do not have to ask to use something." Tony said as he had overheard the conversation. You smile at him. Tony had become like a father figure to you over the years. "Thanks Tony."

It's not long before they all go off and do their own things, Clint goes to the shooting range, Natasha and Wanda go to the training, Bruce to the lab and Tony goes to the armory, leaving you to do your own thing. It unusually quiet this day. You so used to Bucky keeping you company while you wander through various jobs that need doing.

As the day went on you made your way down to the lab for a few hours, The Avengers went on a small mission, leaving you alone. As much as you hated them going on missions you enjoyed the quiet. You took note of the potions and ingredients and the ones that needed restocking.

"Miss Y/N. They will be returning shortly. I was informed by Mr Stark" "Thank you Jarvis, will they be requiring my assistance?"

"I am unsure Miss Y/N best to be prepared in case" You nod and gather a couple of jars in your hand and take them to the Med-bay.

"Hey kid we're home" Tony called out through the building. You make your way to them to see Nat and Clint heading to the med-bay, limping.

"There is a new stock of healing potions in there for you guys to try if you want." You smile and they nod at you as you continue your way to Tony. "How did it go Tony?" "Wasn't our best, wasn't as small as we had predicted." "That bad?" "You could say ,might be a problem in the future but not right now, also kid we have a new person for you to meet. They will be staying here for a while." He said as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Oh?" Now you were curious. "Yeah its Thor's brother, Loki. He will be arriving later today. If you want to join us in collecting him you are more than welcomed." "I might just do that. It has been awhile since I left the tower and I will be returning home in a couple days to grab supplies, So you will have to survive without me for about a week" Tony chuckles "You mean we have to cook our own breakfast? Oh no how will we survive." You roll your eyes at the sarcasm but smile. He pats your back as he walks out of the common room.

You head to your room and rest for a while, you slowly starting to feel the drain on your body. Closing your eyes you dream of your home, your friends and family.

A knock on your door alerts you to wake up. "Hey Lady Y/N, Stark told me to come and grab you." Only one person calls you by that nickname and its Thor so its no surprise when you open the door and see him there. "Please Thor call me Y/N. No need for formalities." "No. Lady Y/N we will be leaving soon, walk with me to the landing dock?" You nod and allow Thor to lead you to the Quin-jet. "So your brother is joining the Avengers?"

"Sadly no, he will be helping out on missions but will not be a Avenger. He is barely happy about helping us. He might even be able to help you in the Lab and with the suits." "I doubt Tony will allow anyone to touch his suits, do you remember the trouble I had when I fixed his suit the first time, I was all but grounded" "I am sure you could convince Tony to allow Loki to help?" "Ah the God of Mischief and Tony Stark agreeing on something. Is this not the same Loki that attacked New York?" You joke to the god of thunder. "The same one, I would like to think that Tony will one day sort of agree with him, he has done his time on Asgard and Father thinks this will help him amend the past." You stay quiet, you had not been here when the New York attack happened, that was the week Tony had sent you home to grab supplies, but he had filled you in on some of the details.

"Lady Y/N if you may" Thor says gesturing to the seat "We will betaking off soon." You smile and get strapped in to your seat. You stay quiet for the flight, everyone around is chatting between themselves, and joking. You pick up on bits and pieces here and thereof what they discussing.

"We might as well have a party for Reindeer games arrival." Tony says loud enough for everyone to hear. "Another party Tony? Must we, you know Loki won't like it" Nat says glaring at the male beside her. "Another reason to have it. He needs to get over it and show us that he is changing. So a party is the perfect way to do it." You sometimes wondered what went though Tony's head some days. He had to host a party for everything. He even held one for you when you finally agreed to help them. FLASHBACK It took a lot of convincing and asking for you to accept Mr. Starks offer to work for him. Some how your little secret was out in the open and now you had the richest man in the area, all but begging you to join his crew. "We could use a smart woman like you on the team. You would have your own room, hell I will even give you your own floor for your technology and gear." "Mr. Stark as much as I would love to join, I am afraid I will never fit in." "Why because your Atlantean? You do know Thor is a god, Bruce is the Hulk. You would fit in fine. I do not care what you are or where you come from."

You look at him and then look away to your garage filled with old Atlantean war machines. You could use a bigger place for them to be stored while you fix them up and get them back in the air. "Could I bring all this? I have worked to hard to give up" You wave your hands round the room. "Not to the tower, but I have a compound that we can store them at and you can go there and work on them whenever you need." "Alright Mr. Stark. I will accept." "Great and call me Tony. I will start arranging the transportation of your vehicles and your personal belongings. Please excuse me" You watch him walk out, a bit stunned at how quickly he got to setting everything up.

ENDOF FLASHBACK.

You feel Thor tapping your shoulder, you glance at him "Yes?" "We will be landing soon. Are you ok? You seem to be a bit distracted?" "Oh its all good Thor, I was just thinking." "As long as you are well Lady Y/N" A few moments alter you have landed and everyone has started leaving the Quin-jet. You look around you, nothing but grasslands for miles. Next thing you see a giant beam of light land on the ground ahead of you and in a flash it is gone, leaving nothing but a raven hair man in green armor.

Loki.

"Brother it is nice to see you again." Thor approaches the man alone. "Thor. I see you bought the whole team for this arrival. Couldn't trust me enough to come alone?" "It is not like that Loki. Do not start this" You watch the interaction between the brothers as does everyone else. No-one moves to greet him. "Come now Brother, there is someone I wish for you to meet." Thor looks in your direction. They make their way over to you. "Brother is is Lady Y/N." You bow a bit to Loki, knowing of his royal title, you have no choice but to. "Your Highness, nice to meet you" "Lady Y/N you do not need to bow to him." "Best you listen to my brother Mortal" Loki said with a smugness. You raise your head and you feel his eyes trail to your neck. You see the realization kick in once he sees your pendent. "You're Atlantean?"

[blancheludis]

@whumptober2021 Day 6: Bruises

Fandom: Batman Characters: Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth Tags: Hurt Tim, Injuries, Hiding Injuries, Self-Worth Issues, Protective Bruce, Lack of Communication, Bruce Tries To Be A Good Dad Words: 3.264

Summary: “Master Timothy, what is that?”

That is a bruise the size of Tim’s head spanning over the right side of his ribcage. A few ribs might be cracked but he can breathe fine when not training and it is good practice to avoid being hit in weak spots.

“I’m fine,” Tim says and wonders why anyone even bothers. In his parents’ house, being fine was a requirement and nobody had the time to keep asking about it

---

Pain blossoms through Tim’s chest as Bruce’s fist hits right where he bruised a rib the week before. Just barely, he manages to swallow a yelp and lets himself fall with the momentum, rolling over the floor to get back to his feet a safe distance away from Bruce.

Safety, of course, is an illusion with Batman after him, who has speed and strength and long years of experience on him. Bruce does not come, though, but stays where he is.

“Everything all right?” he asks, never letting his fists fall but looking at Tim with concern.

“Of course,” Tim replies with a grin he does not feel. It is hard enough to breathe. “Should have seen that one coming.”

Bruce nods and advances again. That is something Tim can rely on. He might not be used to people stopping to ask about his well-being, but the rules are the same wherever he goes. Be the best he can be at all times and appear perfect on the surface. The focus just shifted to include physical prowess as well as school work and social encounters.

Training is a gruesome affair. Tim needs every bit of it he can get but he has not had a chance to catch his breath in weeks.

Tim does not mind Bruce’s high expectations nearly as much as he sometimes did his parents. He is learning to be someone better than himself, after all, someone who can make a difference. Heroes do not stop just because they have some bruises.

He has still a long way to go until he can call himself a hero, but the lack of lectures makes him think he is being a passable Robin.

Rolling back on his feet, Tim makes sure his stance is steady as he raises his fists back up. He does not have to wait long for Bruce to come at him again.

This time, he makes sure to guard his right side more.

“I’m fine,” Tim says again when they are finished training for the day, and wonders why anyone even bothers. In his parents’ house, being fine was a requirement and nobody had the time to keep asking about it.

---

Tim flinches when he comes out of the bathroom and finds Alfred in the middle of his room, freshly laundered clothes in his hands.

It is too late to turn around and cover his bare torso. He has also learned by now that Alfred misses little, so Tim’s only chance is to be as casual as possible.

True enough, Alfred zeroes in on Tim the moment he notices his presence. “Master Timothy, what is that?”

That is a bruise the size of Tim’s head spanning over the right side of his ribcage. A few ribs might be cracked but he can breathe fine when not training and it is good practice to avoid being hit in weak spots.

One of these days he has to get good enough at fighting to stop being a liability. Until then, he will walk around with a few aches.

“Oh, that,” Tim says with all the cheer he can muster. “I tumbled off a roof.” And took several hits and kicks in the general region, too slow to properly defend himself. “I meant to ask for some bruise salve.” The lie falls easily from his lips, even though Alfred deserves better. It is just hard to forget that Alfred’s loyalty lies with Bruce and Tim really, really does not want to give anyone reason to complain about him.

Tim is not necessarily afraid of Bruce changing his mind about the adoption. He knows that is a definite possibility because Bruce does not have time for freeloaders, even though he never said so in as many words. It would suck, of course, because he is quickly getting used to Alfred’s warmth and proper meals and the way the house brightens when Dick comes to visit on the weekends. It is not the kind of family he has seen on tv, not even the kind he pretended to be with his parents during parties, but it is one he feels comfortable in.

No, what he fears is not being allowed to go out as Robin anymore. He already is nothing but a pretender, stretching to reach Jason’s level. He has looked up to Robin for so long he can hardly believe he has been let into this house and actually wore the suit.

Good things do not just happen. He has to work for them, has to constantly increase his efforts to stop anyone from noticing how inadequate he actually is. His parents prepared him for that, at least.

“Come,” Alfred says and gestures at the door. His stern look promises bandages and ice packs and a lot of questions that Tim does not want to answer. “I’ll help you with it.”

“Not necessary, promise,” Tim says and walks pointedly fluid, taking care not to show that his hip has been aching, too. “It barely hurts.”

He brings the bed between them, where he is further into the room’s shadows. Alfred notices too much, but Tim has learned to twist that, to put things in a light that better suits him. He does not actually like manipulating Alfred, who brings him hot chocolate and cooks his favourites on good and bad days, but if he gets benched he will not get better and then he is already halfway out of the door.

“It looks fresh,” Alfred says and stares at him rather than the discolouring. Too perceptive for his own good.

But Tim frowns and makes a show of prodding the bruise, breathing through the pain. “Must be the light. It’s only a little sore.”

He looks up just in time to see Alfred’s face smooth over from blatant concern to something far politer. “It’s all right to ask for help, Master Timothy.”

Is it, though? All the evidence Tim has gathered over the course of his life points to the opposite.

So, he grins and says, “I know. I’ll let you know if I lose a limb.” That is probably not even a lie because he has no idea how he would hide that. And, just because he desperately wants to stay Robin, he will not put others at risk just because he cannot let go of a pipe dream.

Alfred straightens, his lips pursed. “Don’t joke about that.” He puts the clothes down carefully on the bed. “Now, let me get the salve for you.”

Tim breathes out in relief once Alfred is done and hurries to put on a shirt. His blunder would not hold up a single second if Alfred had gotten any closer to him. Thanks to having been with Bruce for so long, he knows all about Bruce.

Then again, he knows all about lies, too. Perhaps Alfred thinks that Tim is doing well enough to deserve a second chance if he lets Tim’s lies pass. He knows better than to let his guard down, though.

 ---

This is the fourth time this night that Tim has stumbled over his own feet and now he almost fell off the rooftop, too. He really needs to get a grip on himself.

Tim pinches his hip, right where a new bruise sits. The pain wakes him up a little, but the blurriness in his vision does not vanish completely.

Bruce stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong with you?” His tone is low and a little restless, so Tim knows his patience is running out.

“Nothing,” he says with all the brightness he can muster, then winces inwardly. He is obviously messing things up, so he should not also pretend that he does not notice. The only thing worse than a fool is a fool who thinks he is helping. “I just stayed up late studying for a test.”

He should have studied. That would have been a better use of his time than thrashing around in his bed, wide awake while trying to sleep. But he passed out in English class the day before and while his teacher did not remark on it, he knows he is walking a thin line.

Bruce’s voice drops deeper still, which is never a good time. “You should have said something if you needed to stay home.”

“No, I didn’t,” Tim bursts out quickly. This is the last thing he needs. Staying home means not learning anything. Worse, Bruce might realize he is better off without this Robin and start looking for a replacement. “I’m just a bit tired.”

“You’re slow,” Bruce counters, shaking his head with what can only be disappointment. That is a definite strike. “That’s dangerous for both of us.”

Tim’s fingers dig deeper into the bruise. The words and pain together are enough to banish the sluggishness for now. Nothing but a reminder of one’s own uselessness to awaken the spirit.

“I’m sorry,” he says and makes sure the words are clear, even while he cannot quite meet Bruce’s eyes.

Bruce’s hand tightens briefly around Tim’s shoulder. It could almost feel like encouragement if not for him saying, “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

It is a good thing that Tim is a self-made insomniac. He is used to running on too little sleep. Usually, though, nobody was around to see him struggle. Now, he has to up his game because Bruce does not miss much. His parents, though, were good teachers in that regard. He will manage.

Stretching his limbs, Tim tries to ignore the heaviness weighing them down and does his best to be alert and helpful for the rest of patrol. Bruce does not complain again, so Tim guesses he does a good enough job.

 ---

As the ground rushes up to meet Tim, he follows instinct to curl up and brace himself for the fall. His arms protect his head and his ribs protest only mildly at the shock of impact. As he rolls, though, he hits something with his left knee, knocking what little breath he had left right out of him. He feels it bending the wrong way, the ligaments screaming for a long moment until everything snaps back into place and he comes to a standstill in some dank alley.

Tim lies there, just breathing, cataloguing the new bruises forming. The by now familiar pulsing in his ribs is joined by a more insistent stabbing sensation in his knee. That is the leg that was already messed up before. He thinks of all the things that might have gone wrong. Snapped ligaments, broken bones, luxated knee cap.

Unwilling to get up just yet, he just lies there. Once he moves, he has to deal with this, has to get up and put weight on his leg and decide how to hide this. Ribs are not essential and mere bruises are easy to ignore. Somebody is bound to notice, however, if he starts limping around.

With a sigh, Tim sits up and carefully pulls his left foot towards him. It hurts but not so much that he cannot manage. Nothing looks obviously broken, but it still feels wrong and Tim suspects he ruptured some ligaments. Which is unfortunate.

“Robin, where are you?” Batman’s voice comes to life in his ear. These days, he is always impatient, Tim has been that much of a disappointment.

He sighs, allowing himself another moment of weakness before he pulls himself together with ruthless efficiency. So much for having some time to collect himself. “I’m on my way.”

It is slow and painful, but Tim manages to get out of the alley and towards their rendezvous point. His movements are neither steady nor very fluid. Climbing the roof to meet Bruce is out of the question.

Before he can think about a way around it, Bruce speaks in his ear again, “What happened?”

Tim closes his eyes. Everything was going so well. He was managing things. If he had gotten a minute longer, he would have figured something out.

“I fell and – I hit my knee.” Admitting that alone makes the ache worse. He is not supposed to fall. Jason surely did not tumble off roofs left and right just because he was tired. “Nothing’s broken, probably, but –”

“Why didn’t you call?”

Tim knows how quickly Batman can move and still he flinches away when the dark shadow appears before him suddenly. Even if he were to fell, reality would probably rather bend than give Batman bruises. He barely catches the concerned look on Bruce’s face before he is kneeling down in front of Tim and prods his knee. Tim braces for pain that never comes for Bruce’s hands are more careful and gentler than he would have thought possible.

He does hear the small sigh Bruce lets out. “Let’s get you home so we can have a better look at it.”

Ice rolls down Tim’s back. He is here to be useful and, really, the one thing he really should avoid is being a liability. Robin exists to help, not to hinder Batman from doing his job.

“You don’t have to cut patrol short,” Tim says, desperation creeping into his tone, although he knows better than to show weakness like that. “I can get back on my own.”

Bruce stills, and Tim is so distracted by having done another thing wrong, that he barely hears Bruce saying, “You’re hurt.”

What does that have to do with anything other than Tim being a burden? “It’s not so bad,” he says. “Please?”

“T- Robin.” The almost slip has Tim’s heart missing a beat. Is this it? Is Bruce taking the suit away already? But then Bruce continues “Patrol can wait. You are more important.”

Now, that is a novel thing. Bruce even says it like he means it. Tim is aware that he is staring.

“I can manage,” he insists because he does not know what is happening and he hates when he is not prepared for something.

“I know,” Bruce says but it feels like they are talking about two very different things.  “But you don’t have to.”

 ---

All of Tim’s failings are laid bare. He has a bandage around a cut on his arm he had forgotten about the moment he got it. His ribs are taped. The x-ray of his knee is open on the screen behind them. A small crack runs through his knee cap, although, once he was done with his examination, Bruce declared that the ligaments are probably intact.

Tim is a wreck and he is not even thinking about the plethora of hurts he has gathered. No, Bruce does that thing where he collects himself before a difficult conversation and Tim knows how that will end for him. His usefulness definitely does not outweigh his faults.

“You were hiding injuries from me,” Bruce finally says. His gaze is heavy on Tim, who finds he cannot meet it.

“I didn’t,” he protests, despite knowing that particular fight is lost. “You noticed the knee right away.”

A shadow flickers over Bruce’s face as he likely notices the implication that Tim would have definitely hidden it if he could have. And will try to do so again if he is given the chance.  

“What about your cracked ribs?” Bruce’s voice is brimming with displeasure. “Or the extensive bruising?”

Well, the ribs have not really gotten better since Tim does not manage to let them rest. But the bruises have almost faded. And the new ones he has gotten are not quite as big.

“They aren’t bad,” he says because they are not. Bruises do not immobilize him or turn his brain to mush. He can still learn.

But Bruce leans slightly away from him as if to distance himself from Tim’s denial. “I did some of them.”

He almost sounds guilty, but Tim is quick to reassure him. “During training. I won’t learn if you hold back.”

Tim has problems ironing out his own faults, but he will not let Bruce blame himself for things Tim should have kept from happening.

“You won’t learn if you don’t take proper care of yourself,” Bruce argues with a quiet insistence that leaves Tim confused. This is not quite the lecture he was expecting. “If you’re too injured –”

“I’m fine,” he interrupts. And he is. There really is no other alternative.

Bruce sits back, realization dawning on his face. “So, every time you say that you mean the complete opposite?”

No, he does not. It means he is working on it. It means that he is doing his best no one else will find the cracks in his composure.

“Don’t throw me out,” Tim blurts out, sounding small and nervous and hating it. Robin has to be strong, an asset, not a scared kid. Nobody wants a child around.

“Tim.” Bruce inhales audibly and reaches out as if to pull him in but stops the motion just before he actually touches Tim. “I’m not going to throw you out. Even if you chose to stop coming out with me at night. You don’t have to meet any conditions to live here.”

That is a lie if Tim has ever heard one. Life is built on conditions, and who cannot do their part has to leave – or gets left behind. That is the first lesson he has ever learnt.

“But you need a Robin,” Tim says. With a tremble in his voice, he adds, “A capable one.” Deep down, he knows that is not him. But it is so hard to let go of this stupid dream.

Now, Bruce’s hand bridges the last inch between them. His skin is warm, a comfort Tim is not sure he deserves, but he leans into it anyway.

“I went for years without a Robin,” Bruce says without a hint of accusation. “And your well-being is so much more important than me having someone to chatter with on patrol.”

He sounds like he means it. Worse, Tim wants to believe him, perhaps more than he wants to keep wearing the suit. For years, he waited for his parents to come home for good or to take him with them at least. But he was never enough to keep them close. He just does not come first for anyone. He should not come before Gotham’s innocents.

And yet. That is the thing with dreaming. He has been offered a hand and now he wants to conquer the very heaven. Be helpful and cared for? Hope is a dangerous thing, but being unable to let it go might just be another failure of his.

“You don’t chatter,” Tim says because that is easier than to acknowledge what else Bruce said.

Bruce smiles and that is warmer even than his hand. “No, I don’t.” He quickly grows serious again, although the warmth stays. “You need to tell me when you’re hurt. And you need to take breaks.”

Tim nods. Anything to keep Bruce like this. Still, he says, “But I’m doing fine.”

Once again, Bruce sighs, but his expression never changes. “We’ll make sure you do,” he promises. “Now, let’s get you upstairs before Alfred has my head.”

He does not let go of Tim, helps him up the stairs, still so very gentle. And Tim, of course, vows to be better. But perhaps being better does not always mean hiding.

He has gotten a second chance, so perhaps he will try things Bruce’s way this time. Mostly. At least until his knee is all healed up. And then, he will see what happens.

[soulmate-game]

Part 1 … Part 2

“So, How was your first day of school in America?” Lois asked as her small family all sat around the table eating dinner. It was almost painfully ordinary, traditional. A married couple and two kids eating a normal dinner and talking about their day.

All of them appreciated that one piece of normalcy in their worlds of superheroes and villains and PTSD.

Marinette snorted, almost choking on her forkful of food. After managing to somehow swallow without causing herself discomfort, she smiled at her mother figure.

“Honestly? I know Jon could fly and I could teleport to school in practically no time at all, but somehow Damian still manages to seem more impressive.”

“Right?!” Jon agreed emphatically, leaning over the table towards her and almost getting his whole plate of food smashed against his chest. “Probably because helicopters are huge and look awesome, but we’re still just us when we use our powers.”

Marinette nodded sagely at that reasoning as if it was something actually serious. Tikki, who was sitting next to her plate with a half-eaten cookie, giggled.

“That makes sense. But be careful Kaalki doesn’t hear you referring to them as ‘not impressive—‘“ Marinette was cut off before she could even finish her sentence.

“Too late, I already heard that blasphemy,” the other Kwami’s voice carried down from upstairs, making Lois and Clark’s lips twitch up in amusement. “I’m a god, dear, I have even better hearing than Kal-El,” for some reason the little horse god always referred to the boys by their kryptonian names, but they didn’t seem to mind much. “Not as impressive as a helicopter, hah! See if I let you use my fabulous powers anytime soon, Guardian or no Guardian.”

Marinette just rolled her eyes. Technically she could just command Kaalki, but that was against her morals and the horse god would never keep her from responding to an Akuma attack anyway. This was just harmless teasing.

And it was really nice in contrast to everything they were used to dealing with.

“Okay, but besides the helicopter,” Clark pressed gently after everyone’s chuckles quieted down. His face was open with genuine curiosity, and a little bit of worry that Marinette caught onto instantly. “I know Damian isn’t always the easiest person to get along with or understand. Did the rest of the day go by alright?”

Marinette actually set her fork down on her plate, her smile turning a little gentle. “Actually? Yeah. When we first spoke I thought he was a stuck-up jerk like some of my ex-friends and a bully of mine from Paris. But he’s just not good with people,” Marinette’s smile turned even softer as she gazed down at the table, at some memory nobody else could see. “It reminds me of my friend Kagami, from Paris. She acts pretty similar. Really impersonal and prickly on the outside, but once you get to know her she’s the most loyal friend you’ll have. Her mom is really strict though, and Kagami never got to interact with a lot of kids her own age, so she still has issues figuring out how to behave around others sometimes,” Marinette actually ended up laughing a little, rubbing the back of her neck. “We uh, we actually had a crush on the same person back when we first met and it sparked a pretty rough rivalry for a while. Once we got past that though, we ended up being best friends.”

Jon snickered, trading knowing glances with their parents. They had already agreed that, unless Damian or Bruce told her themselves, Marinette would have to figure out the Bat’s identities on her own.

“That sounds very familiar,” Jon stated with a little nod. “Me and Damian fought when we first met, too. Legend has it that Dad and Bruce, Damian’s dad, didn’t get along right away either.”

It was Clark’s turn to snort. “I think it’s just a Wayne thing,” the man agreed, amused. “They don’t like getting close to anyone right off the bat,” Lois kicked his leg under the table for that pun, but Clark cheerfully ignored it. “It is pretty funny that you have a similar experience with someone completely unrelated, though. Maybe we should invite her over sometime? Do you know when her school’s next break is?”

Marinette sat up straight in her chair, her smirk wide and almost blinding at the prospect of seeing one of her closest friends in person again. They video chatted and called often enough, but it wasn’t the same. “Actually! Kagami told me that she’s going to Gotham next month for a fencing competition. She’s an Olympic hopeful, you know. She has to make a good enough impression in different national and international competitions to be selected,” Marinette was almost bouncing in her seat, looking like a female version of Jon for a moment with her vibrant blue eyes shining with rare unhindered excitement and her body unable to stay still from the energy.

“I heard that Gotham was holding the World fencing finals this year,” Lois remarked, but kept eye contact with Clark for a moment as the two communicated silently in a way even telepaths couldn’t copy. Marinette recognized the hesitance in their faces, and her bouncing stopped immediately. She knew why they would be reluctant to let her go.

“I know Gotham is dangerous and I still have attacks pretty often,” Marinette’s voice was suddenly soft, but firm in a way that the rest of their little family hadn’t heard from her much at all. It made Clark and Lois look at her, waiting for her to finish making her point patiently. “But self defense isn’t really an issue. Even without any powers, without transforming, I…” Marinette took a breath to steel herself before continuing. “I learned martial arts from Maman. And I’ve used the Miraculous so long that all the combat experience of the previous Ladybugs is mostly muscle memory by now. And Kagami is more than just a fencer, her mom’s trained her in all sorts of sword fighting her whole life. Trust me, nobody messes with Kagami and gets away with it easily,” Marinette actually looked down at her hands, watching as she essentially had a thumb war with herself to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.

“I don’t think physical attacks are what we’re worried about,” Lois admitted slowly, frowning. “I mean, yes, it’s a concern. But if I remember the dates for the competition correctly, I’ll be out of town for my first long distance job since you came to live with us. Clark will be at work during the day on the weekend, though maybe he can get a day or two off,” Lois gently worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a second. “I suppose, if Jon wants to go with you, it wouldn’t be as much of a problem if something happens…”

Oh. They weren’t worried about people attacking her. They were worried about her own mind. Which, after the last few months? Was perfectly fair.

“I don’t mind if—“

But, as life usually ended up, they were interrupted from their peace. Everyone jolted in their seats as the door was unceremoniously kicked down, and a man in his early twenties walked in carrying a mountain of boxes in his arms. Marinette blinked, no longer on guard since the rest of her new family immediately relaxed. But still, she was confused. Nobody said anything about having a visitor today.

“I know, I know. I haven’t been in touch for way too long, give us a little forewarning, blah blah blah. I brought presents this time though,” the man said, cheerful and casual and blasé. With the boxes on the center of the dining table, Marinette could finally get a good look at him.

He was probably about twenty four or twenty five, if Marinette’s ever-sharp eyes were correct (they hardly ever weren’t), and his hair was spiked up with a bit of gel, but not too much. Just enough to give it kind of a tousled-rebel look, and it was cropped close to his head on the sides. He had on a black leather jacket with spikes on the shoulders and slightly down the arms, with slightly baggy black jeans and a plain, worn red shirt. Dark black sunglasses rested on the top of his head, even though the sun had been down for a while.

He did not meet the usual Kent aesthetic of a charming, traditional nuclear family. He was more of an… oddly joyful punk. It actually gave her slight Luka and Jagged vibes, and made her relax a bit into her chair. Contrary to what most might think, Marinette had a bit of a soft spot for the punk rocker look. Most people, that she had met at least, who wore it on a regular basis were amazing people with great senses of humor and large personalities.

“Old man, I got you socks,” he called out with a lazy smirk, chucking the first small box over at Clark. The man caught it with a fond eye roll.

“You always get me socks.”

“Maybe if you stopped being boring, I’d get you something better,” the stranger mocked with good humor. “Lois, jewelry that you’ll never wear,” he handed the box over to the woman with significantly more care, before sliding over one of the bigger boxes to her as well. “And a new camera that you will actually use.”

“Hey, Wait a second, you know you don’t have to—“

“And for the squirt,” the man interrupted without letting Lois finish saying that there was no need to spend so much money. He tossed the last big boxes over to Jon one at a time carelessly, smirking the whole time that Jon playfully scrambled for them. “Video games, geeky shirts, and inside jokes,” he stated happily.

With the table now clear of boxes, he finally noticed the extra body. He blinked, making silent eye contact with Marinette for a tense moment.

“Okay, she’s too old to be a secret child. Did someone make another clone? Did Jon get a girlfriend that looks freakishly like a long lost Asian family member? What did I miss?” He asked, never taking his eyes off Marinette. Clark grimaced.

“If you didn’t break your phone so often, maybe we would have been able to tell you sooner,” the man said slowly, cautiously, with his eyes never straying from the stranger. “This is Marinette. Marinette, this is Connor. He’s… Jon’s brother,” the pause there was a bit odd, and Marinette frowned at the look on Clark’s face. It was like he didn’t know what to say at all, or how to say it. “Marinette is living with us for the foreseeable future. If we get the chance we might officially adopt her, so she isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Woah woah woah, what?” Marinette’s voice came out a lot squeakier than intended, the girl thoroughly whiplashed by this situation. It was hard to think straight. “I— we never talked about adoption.” Clark’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, not in as many words,” he conceded slowly. “It would be incredibly hard, and we wanted to give you time to settle in before asking. But… well, you’re officially an American citizen and we all feel like you’re family already. So…”

“You wouldn’t have to change your name,” Lois was quick to interject, watching Marinette’s face worriedly. “And you can say no. You’re already a Kent. We would just like to make it official legally, if and when you’re ready.”

“Okay, stop making the poor girl freak out,” Connor interrupted, eyes also on Marinette and gentle in their concern. He gave her a lopsided smile. “Ignore them. Clark never had great timing that wasn’t related to legitimate danger. So, sorry I didn’t get you anything,” he leaned back casually, thumbs hooked on his jacket pockets lazily. “Didn’t expect I’d have a new sister when I came back to visit.”

Marinette calmed down a little, but emotions still overflowed in her head, her chest still tight and the air feeling too thin. She offered Connor a shaky smile before standing up, looking over to Clark and Lois. “Um, I— can I— I’m tired.”

Clark sighed, nodding even as his face fell at Marinette’s state. “Yeah. We’ll talk about the competition some more in the morning, get some rest.”

The girl only nodded before making a hasty retreat up to her room, even forgetting to take care of her only half-empty plate. Tikki did her best to calm her bolder down from her place hidden in the girl’s hair, but it wasn’t doing much good. She just needed space, and time to try and process everything.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Aren’t you cold?” Connor’s voice made Marinette jolt, looking over at him with wide eyes. Nobody had ever followed her on her post-nightmare trips before. She wasn’t even transformed. She just sat, in her pajamas, on the empty terrace of her old home. It hadn’t been sold yet so she wasn’t worried about scaring anybody.

“I… should have expected you to be the other Superboy, honestly,” Marinette deflected with a weak smile before turning to look over the city again. She licked her lips, trying to calm herself down. “And yeah, I’m a little cold, but it’s no big deal. I’ll just go back home before it gets too bad.”

“You’re trembling,” he pointed out casually. And she was, her whole body was practically vibrating against the terrace railing. Marinette only gave out a pitiful laugh.

“That’s not from the cold.”

Connor only sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall behind them. Gave the girl a little space.

“What did… What did Clark and Lois tell you? About me?” Marinette decided to ask tentatively. Connor raised one brow, honestly a little surprised that she didn’t also have super hearing to go with her powers. It was slowly becoming more and more obvious that Marinette was not exactly like the other Kents, and Connor only liked the jumpy little girl more for it.

“As much as they could without feeling like they were crossing a line,” Connor admitted. “That they took you in after an accident during a metropolis attack a few months ago, when you had nobody else reliable enough to take care of you. That you’re not Kryptonian, but still special and knew about all of our identities already. But strangely enough they didn’t mention teleportation or the fact that you were a Parisian superhero, not that I’m really all that surprised.”

Marinette smiled, snickering a bit at that last part before sobering again. “Is it… weird?”

Connor silently examined the girl for a moment, she probably expected him to ask what she meant. And maybe if he was anybody else, he would have.

“To suddenly come home to a new person that I’m suddenly supposed to accept as a part of the family? Not really. In fact, you’re probably the most normal surprise I’ve dealt with in years.”

“But,” Marinette looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed and blue eyes swimming with uncertainty. “But I just show up out of nowhere, and you really just accept me? Just like that? I mean, you’ve known me less than a day and you just saw me teleport to Paris in the middle of the night— you aren’t worried at all? Or suspicious, or— you really just accept me just like that?”

Connor couldn’t help but chuckle, pushing himself off the wall to lean over the terrace railing with her. “You know, technically I’m only eight years old.”

Marinette flinched with surprise at the subject change, eyes wide. “Huh?”

Connor laughed at her confusion, rustling her hair a bit. “I’m a clone. I was made with Superman’s DNA, and that of another asshole we won’t mention. Don’t tell Lois I swore. Anyway, I was ‘born’ as a teenager,” he used finger quotations to show that he wasn’t exactly born normally. “With all the mental development and knowledge of a sixteen year old. Pretty much, anyway, but I was still a newborn,” he shrugged. “Clark wasn’t exactly thrilled. Jon was eight at the time, which is why Clark can never decide if I’m the older or younger brother, and he wasn’t exactly planning on another kid back then. Not to mention the whole ‘created in order to kill Superman if he ever went bad,’ and ‘might be a spy because I was made by his arch nemesis’ thing,” Connor waved his hand as if this blasé info dump didn’t actually matter. Marinette just gaped at him, which made it hard for the guy not to smirk. “Point is, Clark was suspicious. Didn’t exactly want anything to do with me. Can’t say I completely forgive him, but it’s mostly water under the bridge nowadays. Especially when we found out that I did have trigger words, and I was unknowingly dangerous. Don’t worry, those trigger words were erased ages ago. Anyway, Clark eventually got his act together. Gave me the Kryptonian name Kon-el, had me live with him for a little bit. We worked it all out,” Connor turned back to Marinette, taking his sunglasses off so he could look her in the eye properly. “I really don’t think a Ladybug is exactly threatening in comparison.”

Marinette was silent for a moment.

“You know I could throw you off this balcony, right?”

“Eh, I can fly.”

Another moment passed before Marinette couldn’t help it, and started giggling. Those giggles turned to laughs, which quickly turned into joyful bellows. Connor joined in, smiling as he laughed alongside her.

“But… you like it with them, right?” Connor suddenly asked, looking over at her. “I know Jon can be a bit overexcitable, and Clark is an annoying boy scout.”

Marinette just shrugged. “Well, it’s not too bad,” she said softly. “I mean, at least neither of them can die by getting crushed by falling debris. So that’s an improvement at least.” Marinette instantly went pale at her own words, slapping a hand over her mouth. Connor snorted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s the exhaustion talking. C’mon, let’s get you back in bed before Clark accuses me of corrupting you.”

Marinette just nodded, doing the world’s quietest transformation before opening a portal back to her room. She was already detransformed, Connor having one hand on her doorknob, when she spoke up again.

“Uh, Kon?” She fidgeted, not able to look up at him. “Thanks.”

The man just smirked, shrugging his leather-clad shoulders. “That’s what family’s for, right?”

Marinette smiled, huffing out a tired laugh. “By the way? I’m glad at least one of you Supers has a sense of fashion.”

“We heard that!”

Connor and Marinette broke back out into guffaws, and the girl couldn’t help but think that she was really grateful for her new family. Maybe she wouldn’t call Clark dad or Lois mom anytime soon, those wounds were still too raw, but maybe eventually. And she’d never had brothers before.

Yeah. This was nice.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 4

I don’t think this ended up as good as the others..? But this is the best way I could write this part. Why is this story turning out longer than expected? Geez I need to learn self control. At least this one was actually kinda fluffy.

@fantasiame @thestressmademedoit @amayakans @resignedcatservant @too0bsessedformyowngood @chocolatecatstheron @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @bigpicklebananatree @thezestywalru @bugaboosandbees @ironspiderstark @mikantsume @marinettepotterandplagg

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

i’m an idiot. i screw everything up.

Titans 3.03

still here, still doing this. these reviews take a fair bit of time that i cobble together across days (like, ten minute chunks during breaks, etc) and i tend to struggle to keep up with episodes as they come out. this means that by the time i’m done with one, most of my stuff is jossed (or geoffed in this case? idk) or outdated and the post sinks like a stone into oblivion. so! i’m going to change things up a bit with this one and write as i see the episode rather than collecting my thoughts later. in my experience with spn, that was a faster way to get them done. 

anyway. let’s see how it goes! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS ahead.

1. an auspicious start with some grave-digging!

digging up a grave and breaking open a coffin is some serious, back-breaking work--that dick did it on his own, likely straight after that fight with red hood, is a testament to the sheer intensity, stamina and discipline that he’s capable of. like, we like to joke about dick cooking cauliflower crust pizzas and making gar and rachel spar and memorise sun tzu--and despair at the obvious consequences of some of bruce’s parenting skills--but imagine crime-fighting almost daily without any superpowers, performing some of the most intense parkour in bulky, uncomfortable armour, doing detective work, pushing through every last barrier of exhaustion and then getting up to repeat it all over again the next day. dick probably thought he was going extra-easy on rachel and gar.

1.5. then again, dick probably had a hundred different easier ways to confirm whether jason was still buried or not, from using equipment to merely asking connor to have a quick look with his x-ray vision. but, no, he’s too caught up in confusion and terror, not really having come to terms with jason’s death in the first place, leave alone the possibility that he could be alive after all. he can’t possibly let the others know until he’s confirmed it himself, even if it means digging all through the night until his arms are jelly, thinking over and over again about jason’s eyes, jason’s voice, from behind that red mask. 

... besides, dick has good reason to believe that he could’ve been hallucinating. wouldn’t be his first psychotic episode, after all.

that just imbues this sweaty, desperate, fingers-scrabbling-in-gravedirt scene with that much more poignancy, and a fair bit of bone-chilling terror. dick is horrified to realise that jason’s grave is empty, but a part of him is also probably relieved.

1.75 (... also it’s curious that we’re never shown any of the team asking to see jason’s grave after they come to wayne manor. i guess it’s because the writers--and the audience--know that jason is actually alive, but these people don’t know that. i don’t know if it’s sad or infuriating or both that they’re barely shown mourning him.)

2. oh GOD the sheer TENSION in kory saying, “i don’t want to say it, but--” and dick quickly interrupting, “it was jason. i saw him,” and hank giving him this loaded sidelong glance. i love how dick’s precarious mental health from last season is still this big elephant in the room but at least nobody’s blowing up in his face and questioning his every decision yet

2.25. i love the relative matter-of-factness with which they’re discussing a possible resurrection. and, of course, ra’s al ghul is brought up and quickly dismissed

(still wouldn’t put it past this show to bring him up at the very last second as the real real mastermind)

2.5. “maybe they can bring donna back” OH KORY

2.75. didn’t they have this same conversation about killing/not killing rose last season? man, the og titans make me tired.

and i don’t know if it’s just hank, but there’s a definite in-group/out-group vibe going on with the og titans, where they’re not only ready to consider killing anybody who threatens the group but makes it difficult for new people to fit in. donna and kory got along well with each other, but the dynamics between hank/donna/dawn and gar/rachel/rose were somewhat strained, and with jason, they were really fucking terrible. it makes sense when you think about how the titans started and how they broke up the first time--both were fairly disruptive events, i’d imagine, in that they probably got together to break away from their mentors and strike out on their own, and when they split up, it was the first time they felt directly responsible for the loss of an innocent life.

but the titans that dick is leading now is explicitly about mentoring a young generation of heroes, about second chances and found family. dick definitely wants to reach out to him first, and i have a feeling he’s going to be forced to make some sort of terrible Choice later on in this episode. 

2.8. (honestly tho, this also seems like hank struggling with his own guilt re: jason; if red hood is not the kid that he failed, it’d be easier to fight him.)

3.

HANK NO

4. honestly this season is already ticking off so many things on my wishlist, but i really wish dick would sit down with the newer members of his team and trust them with important information the same time that he’s telling them to the other members. gar searching for help and reassurance from a man who just dumped all of his responsibilities on his son overnight and went AWOL is a sad sight

4.25. has it only been just 48 hours????? wow! jason’s definitely been planning the red hood gig for a long time now...

5. ezekiel, my man! shady looking guy gets into your cab without a destination in mind... no problem, get right in! said guy gets a call to go to the observatory when he’s barely even looked out of the window so far at gotham... yep, a damn tourist! i want more ezekiel in this show.

5.25. (of course jason has upturned table lamps all along the floor... we have to *gritted teeth* balance the TEAL with the ORANGE don’t we?)

5.5. “dick’s a fucking psycho--he could be following you right now.” hank... has no objection to that lol

5.25. hank, hank... this is bad-decision-palooza. i can’t imagine that hank actually thought that jason was reaching out to him for help, given that the last time hank and jason had any substantial interaction hank had been one of the people accusing jason of sabotaging the team. but for him to go seek out jason and go along with his demands without any backup, weapons or equipment? not the best idea he’s ever come up with.

(add to that getting into the swimming pool of a condemned gym... oh yuck.)

((yes, i have enough self-restraint to not cap his ass.))

(((cap his ass! HA!)))

5.5. do you think jason has bugs/monitoring equipment planted in wayne manor to monitor the titans, or remote access to the cave’s systems? wouldn’t put it past him.

6. oh man, hank came back before dick and the others could meet ezekiel! this is TRAGIC

6.25. i mean, it’s plot-convenient that connor was able to give so much information about the bomb from just looking at it once, but i also like to think it’s the luthor-side of him coming to the fore. it also reminds me of that (in)famous scene from the new52 run of Nightwing comics, where a bomb was attached to nightwing’s heart and luthor disabled it by killing nightwing (temporarily). it’s a neat little callback. 

6.55. “where i come from, you go after family? there’s no mercy.” BUT THAT’S THE PROBLEM ISN’T IT

6.75. i mean, dick’s making sense: this is a game, and they need to get it off playing out on jason’s terms. but having a member of his team in his face, doubting his reasoning and every decision? a very familiar sight. 

6.8. krypto with an a+ sense of humour? also a very familiar sight.

7. wayne enterprises... providing the military with... bombs that can be implanted in humans? a BIIIIG yikes. i guess it’s not too many steps above developing clandestine intra-dermal trackers and implanting them in your own sons, and bruce probably thought they could be used as part of negotiation tactics, but still... YIKES.

7.5. on the other hand, conner being asked to build a deactivation advice seems part of a growth arc that started from last season... he knows so much, but part of growing is learning, and part of learning is using what you know to create something new.

8. oh man, my heart broke at hank going “i’m an idiot... i screw everything up.” like. for him to go like this, after being brought down to such a low last season? struggling with pain and addiction and his relationship with the love of his life? it’s so sad.

9. oh, oh, oh! ronnie from schitt’s creek! i love her!

9.5. “one of jason’s minions” took his body out of the morgue... how deliciously morbid that he planned out his own death like this!

10. TALK TO HANK, DICK

honestly, tho, i’m quite impressed with dick here. trying to think beyond just the most alarming part of the crisis at hand, keeping his cool, delegating tasks, frequently touching base with different members of his team... well done. 

10.25.... whoops, spoke too soon. i’m genuinely confused here, tho. where did the van full of gold bars come from? why did they stop there and get out? how did dawn even know about this?

on the other hand, it’s cool to know dove has bulletproof feathers!

10.5. eh... curran walters isn’t really selling red hood’s menace to me so far. but then again, if titans version of red hood is vulnerable-kid-with-father-issues-trying-to-overcompensate, then yeah! yeah, it makes sense. 

11. “when bats have sex, they gotta have something to hang from” OH GOD HANK

... because i want smiley!gar on my blog :)

11.5. awww. i feel sorry for hank but NONE of these fuckers deserve gar except maybe kory

12. ohhh FUCK! look at jason being exactly one step ahead of the titans at every turn. nice.

no really, i love the building stakes and the building mystery - i feel like the deathstroke arc from last season should’ve been more like this. the flashbacks about jericho and rose came too late and after too much build up, which resulted in a very underwhelming and confusing season throughline.

13. HANK AND DIIIIIICCCKKK

“you’re doing your best by me. always have.” WAILING HERE

it also kills me to think that hank thinks that his imminent death is because of his failure to keep the team together (when he was clearly struggling with his own issues and was spiralling towards rock-bottom) and his fear that he will once again be the cause of the team falling apart. 

also:

14. “i grew up... you can, too. you just have to face your fear.”

yep, got scarecrow’s grubby little fingerprints aaaaalllll over this. 

14.25. nightwing’s got specialised batarangs! yay! (somehow i can’t see this universe’s dick calling them “wingdings”)

15. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

oh man, that was devastating. well done, show. fuck, well done, jason.

this is going to bring up all sorts of “if onlys” for the team. i can’t wait for some fucking aftermath. 

[iam93percentstardust]

Spirit Bright and Beautiful

Written for @starkbucksbingo and this means a bingo for me! See below the cut for bingo details

Also on ao3 here

~

He has a safe house.

Of sorts.

Not really a safe house. It’s an office space under construction, abandoned when the project ran out of money. Still, it’s safe and the important part is that it has a view of the tower and so James can see the Avengers when they’re coming and going. He can watch what they’re doing—not when they’re in the tower itself because the windows are tinted—but he can see when they leave and where they’re going. He never follows them, not with the Black Widow and the SHIELD agent on the team. But they don’t usually go far unless it’s a special event or a mission and if it’s a mission, James wouldn’t want to follow them anyway and if it’s a special event, he can usually watch it on the shitty TV he stole out of someone’s garbage.

James prides himself on being impossible to sneak up on. HYDRA’s training was good for that at least. So he hears the light steps coming up the stairs. He hears and he tenses because he doesn’t recognize those footsteps. He doubts it’s HYDRA—they’re usually heavier—and he doesn’t think it’s the Black Widow because he thinks he could count himself lucky if he actually heard her coming and she’s out on a mission right now anyway so that means it’s someone else.

Someone, who is apparently huffing and complaining about damn super soldiers who could do this without even breathing hard and—

A face with fluffy brown hair, big and warm eyes, and the most ridiculous beard James thinks he’s ever seen pokes its head around the corner.

“Freezer Pop?” the face asks and James suddenly recognizes it as belonging to Tony Stark, Iron Man, one of HYDRA’s do-not-engages long before he became a superhero. “Bucky Bear, you in here?”

He shouldn’t give away his position so easily. Then again, Stark is a friend of Steve’s and he remembers Steve. He’s not sure if he’s ready to see Steve again but he at least knows he’s a friend.

“What’s a freezer pop?” he asks, voice rusty from disuse. He emerges from behind one of the plastic sheets, flicking the switchblade he’d been holding closed. He doesn’t use guns anymore, can’t stand the sight of the things, and it’s not like he can’t defend himself with just a knife anyway.

Stark’s eyes dart to the knife, skitter away to take in the sight of the construction. “It’s a snack,” he begins and then stops, biting his lip to stop himself from saying anything else. James can’t help but wonder what he’d been planning on saying. “Is this where you’ve been staying? Cause I’ll be honest with you, this is…not great.”

James huffs out a laugh. “Better than the street,” he says and doesn’t say that he’s been on the street before.

Stark seems to hear it anyway though if the way his mouth twists is any indication. “It’s not like you’ve only got two options here,” he points out. “You could—”

“I don’t want to,” James interrupts, already feeling the panic creeping up on him. “I don’t—I could hurt—and Steve—”

He almost doesn’t see Stark move and his hand twitches for his knife before Stark stops only a few feet away from. The panic comes on fast and heavy then, overwhelming him. When did he sit down? When did he scramble backward from Stark sitting as well? When did—he tucks his head between his knees, screaming to drown out the static in his head.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to become James again but when he raises his head again, he thinks the light has shifted. Stark is still sitting there though, still a few feet away, silently tapping on a tablet. He looks up when James uncurls from his ball, putting the tablet down beside him.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Stark says quietly. “I know I can be an asshole but I really didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I didn’t think you did,” he rasps.

“I know you’re not ready. And I don’t really blame you. But Steve and the Murder Twins are out on a mission for the next two months and Sam is still in D.C. and Bruce and Thor are at their love nest in Greece that they think I don’t know about.” He rolls his eyes and the corner of James’ mouth twitches in a smile. “I’m just worried about you.”

And that—that’s just—“No one asked you to worry about me,” he points out.

Stark nods. “I know. But you can’t stop me from doing it anyway so here, I wanted to give you this.” He slides the tablet across the floor, stopping only when it taps against James’ foot.

He picks it up slowly, reminding himself that Stark wouldn’t kill him, not with a tablet leastways. “What is it?”

“Videos, mostly,” Stark says with a deceptively casual shrug.

“Of what?”

“The team. J says you’ve been watching us for a while and he’s pretty sure that you’re looking to see if it’s safe to come in, which I doubt you can figure out from watching the outside so I brought you this so you can watch the inside too.” He frowns. “That came out wrong. Look, I’m scared of Natasha too so I don’t blame you so I just thought maybe you’d like video of her throwing cereal at Clint because he drank all the milk.”

He unfolds his legs and stands up. “I’ll leave you to it. Just to warn you though, I’m coming back tomorrow with dinner. Gotta do something while I’m benched.” He taps his side like James is supposed to know what that means and then disappears before James can ask him either about his ribs or about the mysterious J.

~

True to his word, Stark is back the next day with something in a large paper bag that smells so good it makes James’ mouth water. He’s been eating mostly day-old sandwiches from the sandwich shop next to the office building he’s staying in and frankly, he’s tired of it but he’s not willing to go any further than right next door.

“You watched any of it?” Stark asks him, tossing the bag into his lap.

James fishes out two containers of what looks like spaghetti and a smaller bag of breadsticks. He sticks one of the breadsticks in his mouth so that he can avoid saying something when he nods.

Stark gives him an amused looks and then waits for him to finish swallowing before saying, “What did you think?”

…He doesn’t know what to say to that.

He’s been watching and he’s seen what Stark had talked about with the Black Widow throwing cereal at Barton. And he’s seen Dr. Banner trip over the god’s hammer and not even turn a shade before yelling at him about leaving his things in the halls. And he’s even seen Stark and Steve cheerfully bickering with each other—and that’s barely even a fraction of the videos on the tablet he’d been given.

He sees all of this but it doesn’t really make sense in his mind at the moment. Where are the fights? The arguments? The full-on hatred that expresses itself in sneers and glares?

“It’s fine,” he mutters. “Looks nice.”

Stark frowns but he doesn’t press the issue. For that, James is grateful. He still doesn’t have all of his memories back but he’s pretty sure that if it were Steve standing here in front of him, he’d be a lot pushier about this. Stark, though, Stark just sits down next to him and chatters about how much it sucks that he cracked two ribs and so he can’t be on the mission with everyone else. He doesn’t mind that James doesn’t do anything but sit next to him and eat his spaghetti. He talks enough to fill the entire room on his own.

It’s kind of nice.

~

The thing is, the Avengers are apparently nothing like HYDRA. They actively seem to like and trust each other. Their playful ribbing is nothing more than silly banter. Their light touches are warm hugs and not backstabbing embraces. They have movie nights and game nights and morning yoga sessions and in between it all, they hang out together and laugh and talk and love.

The thing is, Tony is warm and cheerful and lovely. James can’t remember the last time he thought that about anything, let alone a person. But as Tony comes over every single evening with delicious food—never homecooked because he says he can’t be trusted around a kitchen—and talks about everything and nothing all at once, James finds himself relaxing more and more around him.

The thing is, Tony clearly loves the team, treats them like they’re his family. He buys them extravagant gifts and goes shopping with Natasha and helps Bruce with dinner preparations. He spends hours in front of the TV with Clint, throwing popcorn at the screen during trashy soap operas. He poses for Steve’s art and he never complains when Thor hugs him just a little too hard.

The things is—if Tony can just choose who his family is, then maybe James can too.

~

“The team comes back next week,” Tony tells him one night.

James nods slowly. He knows. He’s been keeping track of the days ever since that first night when Tony had told him they would be gone for two months. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, they should be back in five days.

“What do you think?” Tony asks. “You’ve seen the footage. You know what we’re like. You ready to come out of the cold yet?”

It’s quiet for a long time. James’ stomach growls, reminding him that even though he’d polished off the serving Tony had brought for him, he’s still hungry. He had been eyeing Tony’s food up until this question (truthfully, he’s still debating tugging it closer to him; Tony never minds) but he wants to think about this first.

Tony waits for him patiently, still doesn’t push. He loves that about him honestly. He’s thought before that he liked it but he thinks now that it might go deeper than that. His…feelings for Tony as a whole might go deeper than that. And if that’s really how he feels, then he thinks there’s not a whole lot he wouldn’t do for Tony.

“Maybe,” he says eventually, still turning the idea over in his mind. “’m still a little scared.”

Tony nods and stands, dusting his hands off on his jeans. The movement startles James, who was expecting that Tony would be there a little longer yet. Did he say something wrong? Did he make the wrong choice? Did he push Tony away finally.

But then Tony reaches out a hand, holding it out for James to take. “Come on, James darling,” Tony urges. “Come home with me.”

James doesn’t really know where home is anymore but, as he grabs Tony’s hand and lets him pull him up and guide him out of the room, he thinks it might be with Tony.

Title: Spirit Bright and Beautiful Collaborator Name: iam93percentstardust Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26044267 Square Filled: G1 - Chosen Family Ship/Main Pairing: Winteriron Rating: G Major Tags & Triggers: Panic attacks Word Count: 2k

[screamting]

Winter in Kansas [80s AU] 2/2

previously: Bruce managed to sit on the bed for a full five minutes, hands held carefully in each other and breathing slowly, heart steadying, before he locked it in place.

And he left the room, footsteps quiet as he could make them on the carpet, and went back downstairs.

--

Clark wasn't there, but his parents were. Jon was in front of the TV drinking a cup of coffee while Martha hovered behind him, both talking about expected snow before they saw Bruce

“Hey honey, can I getcha something?” She asked.

--

Bruce’s mother had been dark-haired, like him, not blond and graying like Martha. It helped. Even if he'd been hoping to catch Jon.

“...I was wondering if I could ask some stuff outside?” he said softly.

Snitches get stitches. But these two knew. He was just entering the circle. Just confirming.

--

The two of them shared a look. Like they knew exactly what this was about.

Jon sighed and set his coffee down before getting it of his chair. “Sure, Bruce. Lemme just get my shoes on.”

--

Bruce nodded, waiting patiently and not making more sound than he absolutely had to for the few moments it took.

He saw the look. He knew what it meant, too.

At the very least, he wouldn't have to ease into this.

--

Once Jon had his dirty, mud-caked boots on and a thick jacket, he stepped outside and held the door open for Bruce to follow.

“So whaddya wanna ask about, son?”

--

Bruce followed, and stepped out into the field behind Jon.

He waited until they'd walked a little before speaking, hoping the crunch of his boots and the Kansas wind might hide his words from someone else.

“...how much can he hear?”

--

Jon turned to face Bruce and hesitated, his face hard to read.

“Pretty far last he told me. I don’t know the specifics.”

His voice was low too.

He gestured for Bruce to follow him. Lead him to one of the tractors, climbed on, and started it up, but then climbed right back down. He talked only loud enough for Bruce to hear over the constant rumble and shake of the machinery.

“More noise makes it harder for him as far as I know.”

The tractor was loud, but it didn't have the same bite as cars flying past on the freeway when trying to walk down the street. He could bear it.

--

“...so that's the only way to get privacy? Clutter the sound?”

--

“I wouldn’t think of it like ‘getting privacy’, Bruce. Clark isn’t trying to hear everything for the next mile. It’s just background noise for him. He tries not to pay attention to it. It’s only when he hears things that worry him that he pays attention, or his name.”

“... Think of it like… standin’ in the middle of a freeway. Your friend is right next to you talkin’, but not raising their voice. You can’t really make anything out unless you hear something like your name, or maybe ‘help’. Words you pay more attention to without even thinkin’ about it.”

--

...he listened, and nodded, but all the same--

All the same.

“...you called me a big name out east,” Bruce said. “When we met.”

--

“Yeah,” he shifted a little on the tractor to get more comfortable. “I know about Wayne Industries. Know what happened to your folks. Was all over the news.”

--

...he nodded, then. Okay. Jon had some context, then--

“I asked a girl out last month and three gossip rags picked it up,” he said. “...my friends tell me private stuff.”

And Clark could hear through walls.

--

Jon sighed, “Are you worried he’s gonna go around telling everyone everything?” He asked, sounding like he had this conversation before. “Before you knew about it, did he go around doing that?”

“He keeps everything he hears to himself.”

--

“That doesn't mean they trusted him with it,” he said. Looking down.

He wasn't… angry. And it didn't come out angry.

But he couldn't stop sounding tired.

Everyone, always listening in. Always hearing about him without him being the one to say it.

Even in Kansas. Jon knew. No chance to say things for himself.

--

Jon sighed, “No. You’re right.”

“... But it ain’t fair to blame Clark. He never asked for any of this. When it first started he used to lock himself in closets or hold his head underwater for… way longer than anyone was comfortable with. Don’t think he slept for at least a week.”

--

“I'm not trying to blame him,” Bruce said, and… he wasn't lying.

It almost surprised him. He wasn't trying to spare this man’s feelings.

“...I'm trying to find a work-around.”

--

“You know what the best work-around I’ve come up with?” Jon said, looking down at Bruce.

“Askin’ him when not to listen.”

--

Bruce looked up at him, expression confused.

Did Jon announce when he had private conversations?

--

Jon just shrugged down at him.

“Sometimes you just gotta take someone’s word.”

--

Okay. He would.

“That include taking his word he can't control it?”

--

Jon nodded, “I know you weren’t around to see it, but my boy went through hell just trying to deal with it. He’s a lot better, and I imagine he’ll keep getting better, but right now… that’s all you can really do. Take his word.”

--

The sharp parts of Bruce’s reply seemed to sail right over Jon’s head. Maybe the tractor’s noise hid the edges in his words. He didn't know.

If there wasn't any way to do it, though, then Bruce had… no other questions to be answered like this.

--

Or maybe Jon just didn’t have the energy in him to respond to it. He looked tired, like this song and dance had happened one too many times.

“That all?”

--

...he nodded. But still, he asked, “could I make a phone call?”

--

“Sure,” Jon said, and reached to turn off the tractor. But first--

“Bruce?”

--

Bruce looked up at him.

--

“... You could do my boy a whole lotta harm with the power you have. And while I can’t force you to do anything, I will ask that you keep this to yourself.”

And then he turned off the tractor.

--

“Mr. Kent,” he said, eyes and voice too steady for a sixteen year old. “I knew he was weird two months ago. I take care of my friends.”

He climbed off the tractor with him.

--

“I’m glad to hear that.” Jon said, and climbed off after him.

He lead him back inside and to the phone that hung on the kitchen wall.

--

Bruce thanked him quietly, and took the phone off the rack to dial.

He didn't have a tractor or anything else but the TV to hide his conversation, but still, he spoke softly into the receiver, enough that the Kents on the other side of the room wouldn't get more than a few snatches of conversation.

“...have the address already? ...okay. Thanks. Bye, Alfred.”

Hung up again.

Shuffled towards the couch.

“...I realized I forgot something, so Alfred’s going to send it in a few days,” he said, assuming that was fine but informing them out of politeness all the same.

--

“Okay.” Martha said, and did pass a look to Jon, who just gave her a nod.

They had a talk.

It was fine.

… There was still no sign of Clark.

--

Clark, he figured, was probably still in his room. He hadn't heard or seen anything to suggest otherwise.

So there was only one thing to do, in the handful of hours left before dinner.

He went to the guest room and dug through his bag, pulling out a clasped wooden box, folded with hinges, and headed to Clark’s bedroom door. And knocked.

--

It took a moment, but Clark did open his bedroom door.

The light was off and his eyes were a little puffy, like he’d been crying but stopped a short while ago.

He hesitated, but did step aside a little to let Bruce in.

“Hey.”

--

Bruce stepped in.

“So,” he said, skipping through pleasantries. “You are: stronger, faster, and have better hearing than me. And you can fly and reportedly burn people with your eyes.”

He sat on the floor without ceremony, and unhooked the box to let the game pieces all fall out, and reveal the pattern underneath.

“So, the next question is: do you know how to play chess?”

--

Clark flicked on the light out of habit whenever someone came inside.

“... Kinda?” He said, watching Bruce plop down on the rug. Like the question confused him.

--

Bruce nodded, starting to set up the chess board. “Kinda? You know how each piece moves?”

--

“Yeah.” He said, and sat down across from him.

--

“Cool. You fine if I take black?”

--

“Go ahead.” Clark shook his head.

--

Bruce took black and made the first move.

And they played chess.

--

Clark knew enough about chess to play, but he was by no means any sort of champion.

Eventually though, he did ask; “Are you mad at me?”

--

“Did you do anything I should be mad about?” Bruce asked, mostly focused on going easy on Clark and playing at his level.

He wondered if he could get this game to a draw.

--

“Be a freak.” He said bluntly.

--

“...” Bruce moved one of his pawns.

He has secrets bubbled up inside of him that he doesn't need to pour out. They aren't his to give. If he can find distaste in Clark overhearing secrets accidentally, he can't console himself in spilling them full-knowing.

So instead, he says, “I've met worse people.”

--

Clark just sighed, like what Bruce said didn’t mean anything.

But he didn’t say anything and continued to half-heartedly play chess. After each move he would pull his arms into himself, hugging them, like out of the two he was the most vulnerable even if it was anything but.

--

...Bruce watched. Saw Clark tugging his arms in on himself. Saw him curled between moves.

“...what are you so scared of?” he asked. Finally. When it was clear things weren't getting better.

--

“Everyone,” he said.

“... After the- the shooting, and whenever I’d do something that no real person should be able to do, Ma and Pa would sit me down and remind me that I needed to keep it to myself. That I had to be a ‘normal human teenager’, even if it was just an act, because what if someone told the wrong person. What if they came swooping down in helicopters to drag me out of the house and go seal me in some secret underground bunker somewhere to stab me with needles.”

“And I try. I try but it’s hard. I run too fast and hear too much. It’s like I’m constantly holding my breath and I can never breathe because if I did someone will hear and drag me away.”

--

….

Bruce nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “...that's…”

God.

God.

He hadn't expected to hear that.

Hear that fear out of Clark’s mouth. The same raw level of fried nerves that knotted in his shoulders and let him wanting to scream, but unable to.

“...I…” God. Fuck. He's spent one day in Smallville, away from Tommy and the pap, and he's falling apart like Gotham was a mould desperately trying to help him hold his shape. “I'm scared of everyone, too.”

--

Clark was trying not to cry again. His eyes were glazed over. He wiped at them before anything could come out and looked over at Bruce.

“Why?” He asked, confused.

He didn’t know of all the things his friend was scared of.

--

To be fair to Clark, it was a very long list.

“Everyone in Gotham knows me,” he said, face the same carefully controlled expression he usually had when he was trying to explain something on their homework, or when speaking to the teachers and adults. “...and they know what I'm worth. I wasn't kidding about kidnappings. They've happened before.”

“...I bribed someone when I was ten. To stay with Alfred,” he continued. “...they wanted to take me away. There's a lot of people who are counting down until I'm eighteen and have access to the money. A lot of people want it.”

“...I just want my family back. And to not feel like every street I walk down’s going to have a mugger with a gun on it.”

...he looked up, and met Clark’s wet eyes with his own, darker, exhausted ones.

“...it sounds nice. To have a friend I don't have to worry about being shot.”

--

Clark finally managed a little bit of a smile.

Friend.

“... Sorry. I didn’t realize having so much money would be such a problem. But it makes a lot of sense. To me that whole… life… just, they show it on TV like it’s anything but a problem. Don’t have to worry about the crop doing well or the cows dyin’ to depend on whether you’re gonna have to cut corners and stuff.”

“I try ‘n do what I can with what I have to help out. Heavy lifting. Lookin’ for engine problems where Pa can’t see. That kinda stuff. I tried to convince them to just let me fly to Gotham too, to cut on bus faire, but they said no.”

He made his move and swallowed.

“I wanna help people, Bruce. That’s why I went to that house and ended up…”

Clark didn’t finish his sentence.

“But whenever I do I just get scolded. And I’m scared that someone will find out it’s me, and then that’d be the end of it.”

--

Bruce listens.

He's still watching Clark’s eyes, and his mouth, and he can't imagine this boy doing what they say he's done.

“Kent,” he says, with steel in his tone. “I would've given anything for someone to get in the way and burn the man who killed my family’s arms off.”

--

Clark smiled a little.

Validation.

…

“I don't regret it. At all. If it happened again I'd do the same thing. Even though I'm scared of being taken away. It'd be worth it, I think.”

--

Bruce picked up one of the chess pieces he'd captured and threw it at Clark’s head.

“Don't be stupid.”

--

It connected but Clark just let it.

“Huh?”

--

Bruce gave him a glare, though it wasn't a particularly intense one.

“You can't do it one time and get taken away so the next guy has a clear shot,” he said. “So next time, don't get caught.”

Geez.

--

He blinked, “So like… do it and run? They'll still see me though and tell the cops.”

--

“No, like don't do it so they know you're an alien,” Bruce said, like it was obvious. “As much as they deserve their arms burned off, it might get suspicious.”

--

Clark gave him a look. “As soon as they shoot me and I don't die they'll know something is messed up.”

--

“Then wear a mask,” he said, leaning forwards, an odd light in his eyes. “Be so alien they can't imagine you're who you really are.

--

Clark looked a mix of shocked and excited. “Like… a comic book hero?”

--

Bruce wasn't sure what the expression on his own face was. “Sure?”

--

… He made his move and didn’t say anything for a few minutes.

“I used to pretend I was one when I was little. I think that’s why I learned to fly before, y’know, all the other stuff.”

What kid didn’t want to fly?

--

...Bruce looked down at the board and quietly moved his piece, too.

“...I lied to you before. About where I'm going when I'm eighteen.”

--

Clark looked up at him but definitely wasn’t mad.

“... You know where you wanna go?”

--

“...I wanna learn how to hunt people down,” he admitted, head low.

--

“... Like… a detective?”

That didn't seem bad or even a little out of character for Bruce.

--

…

“Maybe,” he said. He didn't really have a word for what he wanted.

But Clark used to pretend he was a comic book hero…?

Bruce dropped his gaze again.

“...I found a cave, when I was a kid,” he said. “I fell inside while walking. I used to pretend I lived inside it. A monster. Who would come out and hurt the people who deserved it.”

…

“It's stupid, now.”

He was stupid.

But he was still going to go.

Going to find someone dangerous and powerful, and say teach me how.

--

“That's not stupid.” Clark said, taking his turn.

“... Well, maybe the eating part. But wanting to track people down and make them pay isn't stupid. It's what we're doing now kinda. Looking into the Court of Owls.”

--

“...yeah,” Bruce said. Nodding. “...do you think we’ll find them?”

--

“... I’m not sure, honestly.” Clark admitted. “I feel like we’re finding something deeper but I dunno if it’s the Court of Owls.”

“Just gotta keep diggin’ to find out.”

--

...Bruce nodded.

He took a breath.

“....you're in check, by the way.”

--

“Oh.”

He made his move.

…

“You’re going easy on me.” He smirked.

--

“Yep,” Bruce said, moving a piece on the opposite side of the bored and giving Clark time to escape. “Don't feel bad. I've been playing Tommy for years. Only recently started to give him a run for his money.”

--

Clark huffed, “I don’t feel bad. I know you’re way out of my league.”

It took him a few seconds, but he made his move.

--

...he moved another piece.

“...does that bother you?”

--

‘Maybe a little,’ Clark thought.

But Bruce didn’t even like guys. He knew that after seeing what happened with Tommy.

“Nah,” he said instead with a smile. “I’m just glad you put up with the redneck from Kansas.”

--

Bruce huffed.

“What's that got to do with chess? You guys not play board games out here?”

--

Clark gave him a look.

“Do Kenny ‘n Pete look like they’d play chess?”

--

“Kenny ‘n Pete look like they play tic tac toe,” he said.

--

Clark let out a laugh that could have melted a room.

“Yeah, basically.”

…

“God. I’m sorry about them.”

--

Bruce gave him a confused look.

“...that they have big mouths?” He said. Because, yeah. He was sorry for that, too.

Or was it a flawed intimidation tactic? Hazing?

Not speaking to him for half the day?

--

“Yeah. Big mouths and I think they were just trying to throw you off. Maybe they were kinda mad I made friends back in Gotham and then brought them with me? They’ve been my friends for a long time. Probably know more about me than my parents in some cases.”

--

“They shouldn't have thrown you under the bus like that,” Bruce said, and that was all he could say about them without saying anything cruel.

He moved the chess piece.

--

“Yeah I’m-- I’m pretty pissed at them right now.” He sighed, watching the board.

“Really thought you’d hate me.”

--

“...” yet again, he found himself asking, “why?”

...Clark kept saying that. ‘I thought you'd hate me.’ Why was he so certain? Why…

--

… Clark shrugged.

“I dunno. I’m not a super interesting person or anything and then you throw the whole ‘alien’ thing into the mix. It’s just-- it seems easier to just… hate? I dunno.”

He made his move.

“I’m dumb.”

--

….yeah. Bruce nodded. “Yeah. You are, huh.”

He moved in kind.

“...I take care of my friends.”

--

Clark smiled.

“Me too.”

Made his move.

“So just let me know if you need to move something really heavy.” He joked.

Kinda.

--

Bruce nodded.

“I'll get you renovating the manor grounds in no time.”

“Check, by the way.”

--

He scoffed and watched it happen.

“That a job offer, Mr. Wayne?”

--

“...I can pay ya under the table, but it might damage my reputation,” he said.

--

He looked confused, “Why would that damage your reputation?”

--

Bruce looked up. “...it's black market activity,” he said. “Which is fine on a small scale, but if I was paying someone I’d have to report it.”

--

“Oh, I see what you mean.” He snorted.

--

…he managed a smile about it. “Yeah. I don't exist on a small scale.”

--

Clark didn’t say much to that, and made his move.

… Eventually their game would end and it would be time for dinner.

--

Bruce would go downstairs, and eat with the Kent family for dinner. And--

...and try to not feel strange. Or an outsider. But… it wasn't impossible, in a strange way.

...he knew Clark’s secret, too, now. And it made it easier to slide into a place like this.

Insular.

--

Maybe things were easier for now. They did certainly seem easier for Clark’s parents, and as they started to sit down around the dinner table Jon would ask; “Everythin’ good now, gentlemen?”

And Clark would look over at Bruce and then smile a little and nod.

--

Bruce nodded, “yessir,” and…

It was nice. Even with knowing Clark might hear anything.

Somehow, he still felt a little more free.

--

They had a nice dinner. Jon asked Bruce things occasionally, mostly about how Gotham was, how he liked it. He didn’t ask about parents or business. Just typical kid stuff like school and how it was going. They avoided talk of Clark’s incident completely.

Things around the Kent house were extremely ‘normal’ considering. It was like… bizarre interlaced with normal, and now that Bruce was in on it they didn’t need to worry.

After dinner Jon asked Clark to come help him get one of the tractors out from a mud hole it was stuck in, and if Bruce watched he would see Clark lift the front up and simply back the whole thing up.

--

...and Bruce would watch. From the porch, regular, hot tea in a mug. And he would watch Clark lift the tractor and say nothing.

His friend was an alien. And he wasn't sure, exactly, why he was taking it so well.

...when they came back in, they watched TV and got ready for the night. And… Bruce wondered, faintly, if Clark would hear if he had a nightmare tonight.

But he didn't.

Not tonight.

--

Clark could, but… Bruce had nightmares semi-frequently. It wasn’t polite to encroach on that or bring it up, so he didn’t.

Trust that he’ll give you privacy.

That morning the sun would rise and the day on the farm started even earlier. Jon was up and out of the house before the sun was up and when it did finally rise breakfast would start to be made.

Bacon and eggs with toast.

…

When Bruce came down Clark wouldn’t be there.

--

Bruce found he hadn't been given a time to wake up, and so he woke on his own--fatigued still, but only in the way of waking up in new places--with the clock saying an hour earlier than when he usually woke at school. It was still a dark, and he lay in bed, enjoying the ability to not have to get up immediately. He started his way downstairs when he began to smell food and an unusual amount of sun (in other words: any amount of sun) hit his windows.

“Good morning, Ms. Kent,” he began with, obviously. “...Clark sleep in?”

--

“No I think he’s up already.” Martha said. “He likes to sit on the roof when the sun comes up. He’ll come down soon now that you’re up.”

“How d’you like your eggs?”

--

“Scrambled dry,” he said, and… didn't have to question how Clark would know he was up.

“Okay.”

--

Martha nodded and cracked open the eggs for his breakfast. “You sleep okay?”

There was a small thud on the front steps before the door opened and Clark came inside wearing little more than pajama pants. It would be the first time Bruce had seen him in less than two layers.

It became obvious why.

He was… kind of jacked.

He didn’t look cold either despite the temperatures outside.

--

...what the fuck.

But Bruce kept his mouth shut. His heart sped a little, but slowed again a moment or two later.

“...morning.”

--

“Mornin’.” Clark mumbled, scratching his stomach and instantly rooting in the fridge.

Two cups.

“Y’want OJ or milk?”

--

For eggs?

“Orange juice,” Bruce says, watching him.

--

Clark shook up the OJ and poured Bruce a glass before handing it over to him, but he went for milk.

“Mind puttin’ some bread in for toast? ‘N get the butter out, please.” Martha said, and Clark did as he was asked without complaint.

Martha plated Bruce’s eggs and handed them over, then pulled the towel off the plate in the middle piled with bacon. “Help yerself.”

--

“Thanks,” he said, startled out of his observations for a moment, and--

He was watching two things, a little lost in them both, but at least they were all in this one place. Just--on one hand, caught in the mundanity, in a mother asking her son to pull out the toast and bread, and on the other hand, a small thing in the back of his mind which informed him that Clark’s stomach muscles twisted every time he moved his arm.

He waited until he was joined at the table to even think about eating.

--

Clark made some toast and put it on a plate for them to grab from and by the time he sat down too his eggs were finished.

Sunny side up.

He thanked his mom as he sat down and started to dig in.

“Just cover the bacon back up when you’re done, I’m gonna run out and help your daddy.” Martha said, taking a sip from her coffee before leaving the two eating on their own.

--

Bruce started to eat as Clark joined him, thanking Ms. Kent again, and…

…

“You always sleep without a top here?” he asked, losing his shit completely with a straight face.

--

Clark was busy shoving a strip of bacon in his mouth. “Uh-” He chewed and swallowed.

“Yeah. I like the sun on my skin when I get up.”

--

Oh. Okay. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, so he just--nodded and got his own piece or two of bacon.

And kept eating.

“...plans for today?”

--

Clark shrugged a little and put some ketchup on his eggs before breaking them up. “Dunno. Usually I hang out with Kenny ‘n Pete on my days off, but…” he glanced up at Bruce.

“Not feelin’ that anytime soon.”

…

“Thought about just… flyin’ around for awhile. Haven’t been able to do that in Gotham. But that’d leave you here unless you’re fine with coming.”

--

Bruce was ready to tell him he was fine with just reading a book for a while, but--

“...with coming along for flying?”

--

“Yeah. I’d carry you. Like, it’s fine if you’re scared though. It’s pretty weird. But figured it was impolite not to offer.” Clark said, pushing runny egg mess on his bread and eating it.

--

Bruce stared at him like he was crazy.

“Take me flying,” he said.

--

… Clark grinned with a mouthful of toast and a bit of ketchup on his lips. “O-kay.”

--

He was stupid and (buff, and Bruce wanted to lean over with a napkin and shove it on Clark’s lips to get rid of that dumb ketchup) absolutely intentionally being dense, because who didn’t want to fly, even if you had to be carried?

But instead, he said, “Shut up and eat faster,” and started shoveling his breakfast down in kind.

--

Clark grinned and did just that, shoveling his food down and eating toast and bacon before standing up and chugging his milk.

Shirtless.

He put the plate in the sink and wiped his mouth with his hand.

“Dress warm, it gets cold.”

--

Bruce felt something in his stomach flip, and he nodded, running back upstairs to tug on his winter boots and add on another layer and his heavy coat. Clark’s borrowed winter hat. His good gloves.

And he was ready.

--

Clark got dressed too and then met Bruce back downstairs a moment later. He opened the door out to the porch, stepped off the front step and… float there, spinning around as if in water to face Bruce with his hands in his pockets.

“Piggyback or in my arms?”

--

“Arms,” Bruce said, not wanting a piggyback--he was sixteen, not a kid, after all. It didn’t matter if Clark could carry him fine.

--

“Okay.”

Clark hovered close again and reached out, hand going around Bruce’s waist and pulling him close. He pressed himself against Bruce and locked his hands around the small of his back. Waited for Bruce to position his hands how he wanted.

… He might have been enjoying this a little too much.

“Ready?”

--

...somehow, Bruce didn’t realize he was going to be held like this in Clark’s arms. He knew they’d go around him, but--face to face, he guessed he hadn’t expected, and found his face close enough to smell Clark’s neck as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders securely.

Even through his heavy layers, he could feel Clark’s body, unusually warm against him.

Despite having just drunk orange juice, his mouth was dry. He told himself it was nerves.

“Ready.”

--

Clark smiled at him and then looked up.

And they started to rise, slow at first. Clark kept his grip firm and make sure Bruce didn’t slip, and soon they were over the roof of the the farmhouse. He started to fly away from it, legs angling as if to ‘push’ away from the farm.

Over the empty fields.

--

Once they were up in the air, Bruce… forgot.

He forgot about a lot of things. About how he was sort of uncomfortable being this close to anyone, or how he was fully clothed and Clark was half undressed in his PJs, or what was going on back home.

There was nothing under his feet. It was just-- a moment. A moment of disorientation, and realizing the air was cold and sharp with wind, and how empty the air was around him. That flying was just falling interrupted.

And Clark’s firm chest against his own was the only thing the world that felt stable at that moment.

He wanted to see the fields. The farmhouse. The long shadows, stretching over the yellow, frost-bitten fields.

But before that, before getting lost in wonder, staring-- he tightened his grip on Clark, and held himself close against him.

--

It was nice to be held so tightly by someone who wasn’t his mom or dad. He couldn’t even recall a time that had ever happened before. He kept people at an arm’s length for his own safety, and even when he did let them in there was still that fear of rejection. But last night Bruce had insisted and insisted that he wasn’t mad, that they were still friends, that it didn’t change anything.

When he got to the point he wanted and started to fly backwards gently, to really get in the whole view of the farm, he looked back down at Bruce with that award-winning smile.

“Whaddya think?”

--

“It’s big,” Bruce called back over the wind.

But he couldn’t… think of anything else to say about it. And maybe the new-day sun in his eyes said enough. The way it hit his ghost-pale face in the way it never could reach in Gotham.

There weren’t skyscrapers here. The long shadows ran only along the ground, far, far below them, cast by regular-sized objects, not buildings made by giants.

And the sky was in every direction he looked.

Big.

Blue.

Beauti--

--

Maybe looking back on this day when he was older would be when he said he started to love Bruce Wayne, but right now he still didn't quite realize it. Even as he looked down at the other boy rather than the scenery, watching how the light illuminated his pale skin and tired, sharp eyes. There was a fierceness to Bruce he had never seen from anyone else. Fierce and ironclad in everything he wanted to be.

“Yeah, it is.” Is all he said though, and would slowly continue to hover backwards, getting further away, then go a little left towards the trees that marked their property.

You could see the roads. The buildings in the distance. Cars driving along. Birds flew beside them a safe distance away.

And somehow Clark shined just like the sun, curls blowing in the wind and arms secure around Bruce's waist.

--

Bruce didn’t say much while they were up there, focusing on breathing in the cold wind and staring down at all the world below in a way he’d never really been able to before.

Not like this. Alone and secure, without airplane walls around him.

(Even if he wasn’t alone at all.)

...but Clark would still be able to hear his heart beat, strong and excited with the world below, pressed against his bare chest with just the coat between them.

...but Gothamite he might’ve been, Bruce still could only stand the cold against his face for so long before his cheeks started turning pink and windburnt.

--

Clark might not have been able to feel the cold like Bruce, but he could see it.

“Gonna start going down.” He warned, and did just that. A slow descent left and down…

… and they were back on the porch, feet touching down.

--

A little wobbly, Bruce pulled away once his feet touched the floor-- not because of anything bad, but because as soon as the wind wasn’t rushing him anymore, he realized he desperately had to wipe his nose, or it would drip out everywhere.

“Tissue,” he mumbled.

--

Clark was… a little hesitant to let go, but as soon as Bruce pulled away he let him go.

“... Oh! Yeah, c'mon.” Clark said, arm leading Bruce back inside.

There was a tissue box right by the door.

--

Bruce hid his nose in his face until he was able to get to the tissue box and snatch one out, blowing his nose.

“Danks,” he said.

--

“No problem. I forget that's a thing that happens.”

Clark's skin hadn't changed even a little.

Chalk that up to another power; resistance to cold.

--

Bruce noticed Clark’s immunity, but didn’t say anything about it really. He just focused on blowing his nose, and once he was done, rubbing his cheeks to warm them up again.

“...you never get sick or stuff, either?”

--

“Uh,” Clark began as he walked to the kitchen to make something warm for Bruce.

“Not since I was little. Mom says when I was a baby I struggled a lot. Like I couldn't breathe. But I don't really get cold anymore. I can't get burnt. Can stick my hand right in a fire and nothing. Can grab hot pans.”

“It's like--” he shrugged. “Invulnerability?”

--

...Bruce had honestly just been wondering if Clark was affected by bacteria at all, but… that was a lot more than he’d asked for.

“...not anything?”

--

It was nice to just… talk about it with someone. Sure his friends knew, but… they always asked him weird questions about it. Like if he looked at people naked.

“Well getting shot hurt, but other than something like that? Nope.” Clark put on some water for tea.

--

...Bruce didn’t question it, even if he did watch Clark a little longer, lingering.

...he realized now that he looked at Clark, that… he didn’t have any marks on his skin.

Not a mole. Not a freckle. Not a paper-thin scar.

And he’d been shot.

“...I can’t tell at all,” he said, maybe a little breathless, watching Clark’s back as he filled the water.

--

“Revolver hit me here--” he said, turning and pointing at his face. “Shotgun hit me here--” he pointed at his arm and chest.

“Gave me a black eye and broken nose and a lot of cuts. But they healed pretty fast. No scars or anything.” Clark shrugged. “Worst anyone's been able to do too me. I've fallen out of trees and moving cars and jumped out of two story windows and mostly been fine.”

He gave a sheepish smile.

--

Bruce found his arm going up to his neck, fist tight, and tried not to think about the hole that he’d seen punch through his mother.

He had scars on his arms right now. He had cuts healing right now. And Clark had jumped out of buildings and been shot and leapt out of moving cars--

“Why did you jump out of a moving car and a two story window??”

--

Clark laughed, “Well the car thing was I saw a dog and I was like… five. Really gave my folks gray hair for that one. And I jumped out of my bedroom window when they grounded me once and didn't quite have flying down yet. But I landed okay!” He gave Bruce a dumb grin and thumbs up.

--

Bruce buried his face in his hands.

--

Clark just laughed again and pulled the kettle off the stove to pour them both some tea.

“Genius alien from beyond the stars.” He joked.

“Really though I’m just…” he shrugged. “Just a kid on a farm who can’t get a date or pass his driving test, or… y’know.”

--

He didn’t know. But he nodded anyway.

“Yeah,” he said. And he wanted to say he was just normal, too.

But he could get a date, and wasn’t a farm kid, and could drive, just not legally.

…

“...wanna be lazy normal and just watch some TV?”

--

“Hell yeah.” Clark grinned and handed him his tea.

--

...the first day or two had been rough, but it grew easier with each passing day.

The Kents didn’t ask him about his family. They just… brought him to the table. Clark did alien things, and human things, and mostly reading-and-TV things.

They had a Christmas tree, and bit by bit presents appeared under it as the Christian Holiday grew closer. And, to Bruce’s relief, one such present arrived in the mail with a little bit of time to spare.

He’d been invited to Christmas parties before, but he’d never really celebrated with his family that he could remember--what he did remember was mixed up with Chanukah somewhat, with how young he’d been at the time. And though he was fairly sure the Kanes celebrated both, they only really invited him for things like Pesach and Sukkot.

So it was… the first time he’d really seen a family Christmas in person, rather than through every movie and pop culture magazine in the world.

...it was much quieter than he’d been led to believe, when the day finally did come, and he wondered, briefly, how the Kents had managed to tell Clark about a magical flying man in the sky when he was a child, or if they’d let him know Santa Claus was a fictional character to avoid accidental alien imprinting.

--

The day Christmas arrived there was a bit more of a set time to get up, but things still moved the same as they had been.

The sun rose and Jon tended to the cows, but then would be inside for the remainder of the day unlike his usual sparse appearances throughout. They made pancakes for breakfast and waited until everyone was sat around the table together to eat.

After breakfast was time for presents, a few under the tree for Clark, some for his parents, and…

Martha handed a little box to Bruce too.

--

...it was nice. It was still approximately like a regular day, which was a little strange, but it was nice. He ate the breakfast with his usual appreciation and followed to the livingroom around the tree once it was done, watching.

Bruce took the little box with a quiet ‘thank you,’ and smiled. Most of the gifts around the tree were for Clark, but that was fine.

...After a bit of confusion, Bruce had brought his presents down a day or two before. One for Jon. One for Martha.

Two for Clark--one of them being the little package that had arrived in the mail a few days earlier.

The first three presents Bruce had picked out while in Gotham, asked Alfred to purchase and wrap, and had brought them on the train himself on the way to Smallville.

He hoped they were fine.

...for Ms Kent, before knowing her name, he’d gotten a blue sapphire necklace with matching earrings. Not especially expensive, so it wouldn’t feel condescending or she couldn’t find things to wear them with. Not so cheap it looked bad coming from him.

For Jon, it’d been a little easier.

High quality black leather gloves with a matching sidebag.

… and for Clark, he’d… for the first present, he’d simply gotten him an autobiography of one of the muckrakers who’d lived through the mob wars of the 20s and 30s.

...it was the second present, in a much smaller box, that had Bruce anxious.

--

Jon and Martha kept insisting that he didn’t have to get them anything of course. They were very impressed by the gifts though, Jon giving a rather genuine smile and Martha leaning over to give him a hug in thanks.

Clark really liked the book too, and it actually took him a moment to put it down and pick up the second present that Bruce had given him.

“Another one?” He asked, a little surprised while pulling off the wrapping.

--

Bruce nodded and… looked down a little.

...inside the box, there were what looked to be hearing aids. Pale, thin, and mechanical.

“...they’re sound blockers,” he said softly. “...you said Gotham was too loud for you. And what you said about three miles, I figured…”

…

“You don’t have to use them.”

--

Clark clearly didn’t know what they were before Bruce said anything, but then the realization hit him.

“... Oh. Wow, Bruce.” He said, pulling them out. “That’s… really cool.”

“How do you put them on?” He asked, already trying.

--

Oh.

Bruce brightened a little, and shuffled closer, sliding until their knees knocked together.

“Here,” he said, taking the first one from Clark’s hand and brushing away his hair to get a good view of his ear.

He slid it in carefully, looping the hook that made it appear so much like a hearing aid over Clark’s ear.

“No one should question it, since it looks like a regular thing.”

--

Clark leaned in closer to help him and… maybe kinda stayed there a little longer just so he could be closer to Bruce while he helped put them in.

“This is really cool.” He said again, voice quiet.

“Finally gonna be able to sleep.” He laughed, a little joking and a little not.

--

Bruce smiled a little, glad Clark liked them so much. “They working?”

--

He went quiet and focused, a smile spreading over his face. “I can’t hear the cows.”

Martha looked like she might start crying.

--

Bruce grinned wide, something warm spreading through his chest.

“You like them?”

--

“Yeah. I really do.” Clark grinned.

…

He leaned over and pulled Bruce into a hug.

--

For a moment, Bruce was startled, freezing up in the sudden hold.

...then, he leaned into it, closing his eyes, and finding himself melting into the hold.

--

… Clark found he really didn’t want it to end, but… his parents were right there. So it had to. But while it lasted he held Bruce tight and whispered out another ‘thank you’ before pulling away.

“Wish you woulda had those when you were younger.” Martha smiled and Clark laughed.

“Yeah, really.”

--

Bruce smiled and edged away from Clark again, opening his own present quietly while the others talked.

...he felt a little better, now, knowing the gift was well received. That it wasn’t a bad idea.

...soon enough, though, January would come, and the hearing aids would be really put to the test as their return to Gotham grew closer.

--

Bruce’s gift was… less impressive, but…

“I know it ain’t your style, but…” Clark grinned.

It was a baseball cap.

A baseball cap with ‘SMALLVILLE’ embroidered across it.

“Least it’s somethin’ to remember us by.” Jon chuckled.

--

Bruce sighed deeply, eyes rolling up to the ceiling, and flipped the hat up to destroy his hair style by putting it on.

“You know what, Kent,” he said. “At least it’s not John Deere.”

--

Clark grinned and roped his arm around Bruce to give him a side-hug.

…

January would come eventually though, that was for sure. Clark would hug and kiss his parents goodbye and they would tell Bruce they loved having him, to come back any time. He was always welcome in their house.

Then it was a bus ride back to Gotham and Clark definitely packed his new hearing aids.

--

...he wasn’t sure why he was the one struggling to not get emotional once the Kents drove away, and he found himself in the bus seat, staring at the seat in front of him.

...but he was. For the first few minutes as the bus pulled out of the station, Bruce just… curled up in his seat and worked to keep his breathing steady.

And they headed back to Gotham.

…

He wouldn’t wear his ‘Smallville’ cap with him as they reached their destination late the next day, though. He’d return to the borrowed snow cap, and hide the ‘smallville’ one deep in his bag so that it couldn’t be seen.

...and as they returned to the dorms, he had a weight of dread in his chest that he wasn’t unused to, but…

It hadn’t been there the last two weeks.

And knowing Clark could hear his heartbeat just made him more anxious, now, about keeping secrets.

[fvckthebatboys]

Who Do You Love More pt 2

Pairing: Batfam x Batsis!reader

Words: 1575+

Requested: Kinda

A/N: hey guys. i know I keep saying that i’ve come back multiple times but i am just constantly getting fucked over by life. but here’s this to say sorry

You had managed to avoid your brothers and father the rest of the night and, so far, all of this morning. All you had to do was hide until your next game this afternoon. Before you reached your room last night, you had managed to grab enough food and drinks to last you until then. Thus lowering your chances of seeing the other inhabitants of the house. Sitting on your bed scrolling through your social media, you couldn’t help but think back to last night and the conversation you had with your family. That was the first time in god only knows how long you heard the words ‘I love you’ come from your father. You had finally heard the words you craved to hear for so long. So why didn’t you feel better? Why were you still so upset and hurt? Maybe because actions truly do speak louder than words, the rational part of yourself reminded you. That words can't wipe away years of actions screaming at you that they don’t care? A knock on your door broke you from your thoughts.

“Mistress Y/N,” Alfred’s calm voice rises in volume as he opened the door.

“Yes Alfred,” turning to face the only person in this damn house you know actually gives a fuck about you.

“Your presence has been requested in the dining room for lunch.”

“I already ate Alfred,” a sigh escaped you as you answered him.

“One of those cup noodle things does not count as having lunch. Plus you have a game tonight do you not? You need to eat something heartier than that if you want to play well.”

“They’re down there, aren’t they Alfred?”

“Yes Miss Y/N.”

“Then I’m going to stay up here.”

“Suit yourself,” the man exited your room, closing the door behind him.

You returned your focus to your phone, not wanting to continue your thought process from earlier. Ten minutes later and another knock on your door came. Rolling your eyes, you stood and walked to the door.

“I told you already Alfred, if they’re down there then I’m-” your voice caught in your throat as you threw the door open only to find Jason on the other side of it.

“Hey kiddo,” in one hand a plate of food and a drink in the other. “Alfred said you wouldn’t come down, so I came up.”

You tried to quickly shut the door on him, but his damn reflexes were too good for that. He smoothly slid his foot into the doorway, stopping the door in its tracks, all without spilling the food or drink.

“I told Alfred I’d eaten already so just take it back downstairs,” your eyes stayed locked on the carpet.

“You can’t avoid us forever Y/N. We live in the same house.”

“Yeah, well I can sure as hell try,” turning, you walked back to your bed.

Sitting back in your bed, you grabbed your headphones. Plugging them into your phone you picked a playlist before placing the buds in your ears. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Jason set the plate and glass down on your dresser. Watching as the door shut behind him, your gaze fell to the food. With a sigh, you stood and grabbed the food. You weren’t sure why Jason had been the one elected to bring it to you. But you really didn’t care. You ate the lunch and set the plate back on your dresser. After an hour or so, you heard another knock on the door. Before you could even ask who it was, it opened to reveal Alfred.

“Miss Y/N, might I have a word with you,” he entered the room and shut the door behind him. You nodded as you took out your earbuds. “Could I sit?”

“Of course.”

“I want to apologize,” Alfred spoke as he took a seat on your bed beside you.

“Alfred you have nothing to apologize for,” you were stunned by what you heard. Out of everyone in the manor, he was the only one you could talk to. “You’ve done nothing that warrants it.”

“But I have Miss Y/N. I have allowed Master Bruce and those boys get away with abandoning you. I should have never let your relationship with them get to this point. You all used to be so happy. I miss those days Miss Y/N. The days where you were all a family.”

“Alfred, please don’t think yourself to have any blame in this. They chose this. They chose to distance themselves. I just gave up. I couldn’t take the rejection anymore so I stopped trying,” you could feel the tears well up and slowly make their way over your cheeks. It hurt to say all this, but it also needed to be said to someone at least. As you spoke, you felt a small weight disappear from your shoulders and your heart. “I hated the reminder that a city comes before his own family. Before the people who used to mean the world to you. I get the family business is the vigilante lifestyle, but couldn’t they have still supported me? Couldn’t Gotham go a few hours here and there without them?”

Unbeknownst to you, five figures stood on the other side of the door, listening to your conversation. All of them thinking of how they could make things go back to the way they were before.

“I have to get ready for the game today Alfred. Thank you for actually listening.”

“No need to thank me. Shall I drive you there?”

“Yes please.”

“Very well. Let me know when you are ready.”

“Okay. Thank you Alfred.”

He smiled as he left your room. Over the next half hour, you got dressed and got everything you’d need together. Pulling on your cleats, you grabbed your soccer bag and headed for the stairs. When you got to the foyer, you saw Bruce and your brothers. You tried to sneak past them, but got caught.

“Y/N are you ready,” Dick questioned.

“For?”

“Your game. Father is taking us,” Damian looked to you.

“You’re going? Again?”

“Is there a problem,” Dick asked.

“Why?”

“Because we should’ve been doing this all along,” Bruce spoke up. “We shouldn’t have let things get as bad as they have between us. We do love you Y/N, please believe that.”

“Why should I? You haven’t been there for years Bruce,” the use of his first name brought many unreadable emotions to the man’s face. “So I’m sorry if it’s hard to believe that you care. That any of you care. For years you put this god forsaken city above me. I’m sorry I didn’t want to be a vigilante like you guys, but I guess that’s the only way to get your love. Cause you haven’t abandoned them. Hell, you love three men who aren’t even your own kids more than me. I cannot wait to leave this fucking city.”

You pushed past the stunned men, but before you could get very far a hand grabbed your arm.

“What do you mean leave,” you could’ve sworn you heard Bruce’s voice crack as he asked the question.

“I got offered a spot in the national team and I accepted. I leave as soon as I graduate.”

“Why didn’t you tell us,” Jason spoke up.

“For the same reason we’re fighting about right now. Because you wouldn’t care.”

“But you’d be leaving, for who knows how long,” Tim’s voice came from behind you.

“And if you hadn’t known you probably wouldn’t have even noticed I was gone.”

“Y/N please. We want to make things better,” Bruce’s hand on your arm tightened ever so slightly.

“Why now? Why is it that all of a sudden you actually give a fuck about me? I’ve been fine without you guys for years now. So why?”

“Because I didn’t realize until recently just how much I, we’ve, screwed up when it comes to you,” and this time you heard the crack in Bruce’s voice clear as day.

You wanted to turn around, but you knew that if you did you’d want to forgive them. It wasn’t that you wanted to remain on bad terms with the five of them, but the pain of all the rejection and years of being invisible still feels so fresh to you. Ever so slowly, you turned back to face them. The looks on their faces screamed how much they truly wanted to fix their relationship with you, even Damian who barely showed any emotion at all. Looking into the eyes of your father, the tears you’d been fighting so hard to hold back for so many years fell one after another down your cheeks. Sobs wracked your body as Bruce quickly pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around you in an embrace you’d missed more than anything. The hushed ‘it’s okay’s and ‘I’m sorry’s didn’t do anything to quiet your crying. You were then passed from Bruce to Dick then Tim then Jason then Damian, your only blood brother. With a ‘tch’ his arms opened wide for a hug. The first hug you’d ever had from the boy. This only made the tears fall harder as you pulled the boy into you.

“Now enough with all this crying bull shit, you’ve got a game to win,” the gruff voice of Jason came from your left.

“Righ,” you pulled away from Damian and wiped at your eyes. “Let’s go.”

[catxsnow]

HANGING UP THE COWL T.D.

Request:  Can you please do a Damain(or tim) x reader where the reader( who was a vigilante) is forced to retire because fight with Joker gone wrong. The reader being stubborn still wants to fight but has to come to a realization in the end they cannot fight on the field.

Warning: Joker’s usual antics, angst

A/N: I did Tim for this just because I thought it flowed a little better with him! Thanks for sending this in I hope you like it! 

I’M ALMOST CAUGHT UP ON WRITING REQUESTS 

Word Count: 2k

You knew the Joker never played by the rules.

He was the bad of bad's, crazier than anyone, and didn't think twice about killing anyone that got in his way. Well, you had gotten in his way, lots, and that didn't end well for you.

After knowing what happened to Jason and Barbra, you should have known that anyone was at the Joker's will to get traumatized next. Jason died, Barbra paralyzed, you didn't think that anyone could get it worse than them. You had gotten off lucky - and that was saying something.

Joker had gotten you when you didn't expect it. After weeks of tracking his moves and trying to figure out what he was up to next, you weren't even slightly aware that he was watching you the whole time. The second that he put his 'plan' into action, you were there. It was stupid to go alone - and it was more stupid to think that Joker was actually going through with something that made sense.

It was a trap for you, and it changed your life forever. Joker had taken away your life - maybe not as literal as Jason's - but he had taken your ability to be the hero you always were. You were lucky, Barbra was trapped in a chair forever, you were only there for a couple months. He had broken you just enough that you would never be able to continue your life along Batman.

Your knees would have a permanent brace for the rest of your life. No amount of surgeries would ever bring you back to your feet, which meant you could never play sports, be a vigilante, or partake in any part of life that you once craved. You weren't the same, and everyone saw it. Tim saw it.

Tim Drake was with you through it all. He watched as you tried to keep yourself together, get strength to become healthy, and cry yourself to sleep at night. He was the one that found you in that warehouse and the one to stay by your hospital bed every night. Tim wasn't going to let you out of his sight.

The two of you were dating far before the incident had happened. You knew that if you could make it through your darkest time with him, you could make it through everything. That didn't stop your arguments though. You wanted to get back in the game, you wanted to prove that you were just as good as you once were.

Tim never wanted to see you in that suit again. He didn't want to be reminded of what happened to you or that it could just as easily happen again. He knew that you would never be back in the shape that you were years ago, as much as you wished you could be.

Thousands of dollars were spent on surgery's, replacements, anything that would help you. And a lot of it did, it helped you with day to day movements but nothing as strenuous as working with Batman. You still tried. You tried so hard to keep doing your job. The city needed you, and you could barely help yourself.

Trying to be the hero you once were and failing hurt you more than Joker ever could. Tim watched as you broke yourself down every day trying to do what you used to. He didn't want you to give up, but he couldn't watch you fail anymore. It broke his heart.

Every time you tried to go back out there, it only lead to more pain, more knee problems, and more surgeries. You tried to keep fighting in the streets of Gotham but it was doing you more harm than good. Bruce tried to get you to quit, he was tired of having to see you in recovery because you couldn't move like you used to.

The two of you used to be unstoppable. Every mission that you were on together had always been a success. Even Bruce was shocked to see how incredible the two of you worked together, it was like you were made just for this. Being partners on the field had sparked your dating life.

Part of you felt that maybe if you could no longer be his partner against crime, he wouldn't feel the same way for you anymore. This was Tim you were talking about, he was never like this, yet it still struck fear in you. That was part of the reason you tried so hard to get back out there - you wanted things to stay the same with him.

Dick was far past concerned about your health. He was the one who had to save you when you were down and the one to bring you back home only to be bedridden for weeks again. He knew you couldn't keep this up any longer but he didn't dare try to tell you that. Not after the reaction that you had given Damian.

Damian tried to stop you from going out there again. You were healed rather well but it was only months ago that you weren't. He was ready to put you on your ass if that meant that you were safe at home. Damian learned that you too, were good with swords and knives. You didn't mean to stab him, but he also learned his lesson not to get in your way.

"Baby," Tim called for you. It was just the two of you down in the bat cave. Tim was hunched over the computer while you were trying to train like you used to. He froze in his spot when he heard you cry out, followed by a loud thump. You were on the ground, arms covering your face but obvious frustration rolling off you.

The brace on your knee stood out like a sore thumb. It was bulky, ugly, and refrained your movements half the time. You were so tempted to take it off but you knew too well that you wouldn't make it three steps without it, much less trying to practice your fighting.

It was killing you not to be able to do simple training anymore. You felt weak, like you couldn't do anything on your own ever again. Tim babied you even though you were as healed as you were ever going to be. He just wanted what was best for you.

Tim knelt down beside you. His hand barely grazing your back before you pushed him away and abruptly stood up. For a while now, you had the bad habit of pushing him away. You knew that he meant best, but you didn't want his pity. You just wanted things back to where they were.

"(Y/N)," Tim tried again. Defeat was evident in his voice, he was tired of this routine. You trying to do the impossible, getting hurt, and Tim trying to comfort you when you only pushed him away. He was tired of seeing you push him away when he was only trying to help you.

"I can do this!" You shouted, unsure if it was to convince him, or yourself.

"No, you can't" Tim's voice was soft, devastated. You had barely caught what he said, but the words rang loudly through your mind. Even he believed you couldn't do this. The one person you always relied on, the one person who held you tight and promised everything would be okay, didn't believe you could.

Truth be told, you knew this. Deep down in your heart you knew that you would never get back to your place as a hero. Part of you always knew, but whether it was sheer stubbornness or determination, you never gave up. You didn't think Tim would give up on you either.

"I'm tired of seeing you hurt about this. I want you to be back like you were, of course I fucking do. It's been years that you've been trying, years of being so fucking brave. It's time... it's time to realize that maybe you're out for good."

"No," you harshly spoke. You refused to believe that you were supposed to give up. Tears stung at your eyes at the idea of it all. You were supposed to be just as good as Batman one day - maybe take on the mantle yourself. Those dreams were ruined, everything in your life was ruined because of the Joker.

Tim reached out to you. He pulled your close before reaching up to wipe the tears that fell down your cheeks. There was nothing more that he hated than seeing you like this. Tim knew that you were going to struggle lots after the incident, but he also knew that he would never give up on you.

"I love you, more than anything or anyone. I hate seeing you like this, I hate seeing you get your hopes up just to be disappointed again. All I want for you is for you to be happy again, and you're never going to be able to do that until you accept that this legacy isn't possible anymore.

"Even if it was, how long would it last? Weeks, months? A year? The Joker knew just how to break you, and if you keep trying to get back at him like this... he's going to win. I know you want to get back at him, but this isn't the way," Tim tried to reason with you. He was trying to be gentle about this, but it didn't make your heart ache any less.

"I-I," You stuttered over your words. Tears fell faster down your cheeks and you felt like an absolute mess in front of your boyfriend. He wasn't give up on you, he was trying to find you another way - just like he always did with that big brain of his. "I feel like if I give up on this I'm giving up on everything."

"You know that's not what's happening," Tim assured. He pecked your lips and pulled you into a tight embrace. Just the touch of him calmed you down. For years he had been the one watching over you, making sure that you were safe. You loved that about him, you loved everything about him.

"Look, whatever you choose to do, you know that I'm gonna be there, right beside you," Tim promised. He was trying to stay strong for you, but seeing you like this nearly brought his own tears. "You know what's best for yourself, it's your choice."

"I need some time, Timmy," your voice was muffled from being tucked into the crook of his neck. "It's just, it's hard going through this."

"Maybe talk to Barbra, she's the one person that really understands what you're going through," Tim offered. You had talked to her several times about what had happened to you. You always went to her with a strong headed idea that you would continue her legacy. Maybe this time, she could give you a different kind of perspective of what you should do.

"I love you, Tim," You sighed into his skin once more before pulling away to look up into his eyes. As always, they held reassurance and love for you. "You're the best thing to happen to me. I couldn't have gotten through all this without you."

"Of course you could have," Tim half smiled. "You're the strongest person I know. You were always meant for great things, I knew that from the moment I met you. Hang up the cowl, live a life that the rest of us are never going to get the chance to have."

"You're my life, Tim. No matter where you are, I'm there," you told him. "Even if I decide to hang it up, that doesn't mean that I can't help. Barbra helps Dick all the time, god knows where he'd be right now if it wasn't for her. I'm gonna be by your side for the rest of your life, it's just a matter of how."

"As long as you're there, I don't care how."

[andromedia5]

For the writing prompts, could you do BatCat for 13?

She came and went. That was her whole thing, that was the basis for everything. That was just how she was, just how they were. It was just Selina being Selina.

He couldn’t fucking stand it. And yet he understood it. He knew her, knew why she needed to feel like she could always leave. It was so he couldn’t leave her. Which broke his heart into about a million pieces.

Bruce tugged at the eyes of his cowl. He was going to have to ask Alfred about putting some padding or something to stop it from digging into his brow. His old one hadn't done this. Just because Lucius didn’t think the previous model was perfect didn’t mean it hadn't worked. Well, kind of worked. It’s not like a small concussion was that big a deal, he was only twenty one.

He didn’t have much to do tonight. Crime had gone down slightly in the last few weeks and he suspected that the general opinion of Gotham’s underworld was that if they waited him out, The Batman would go away. They had held off on anything major, leaving him with just a few low level thugs. All low level except her.

As much as he probably shouldn’t, Bruce admired Selina. Much of the initial awe at someone his age who could and did do things for themselves has worn off years ago but now as Batman. . .

He had gone halfway around the world, getting training from Cain, discipline from centuries old tests of indurence, and a God knows how many dollar suit, designed by one of the most brilliant men he knew. And Selina, true to form had side stepped the work, ignored or stole the resources she’d need and ended up being better then he was anyway. She was really good at this. Selina, or Catwoman had gone for simplicity and style over anything else. She wasn’t going out looking for a fight like he was. Her goal was to be in and out before she ever had to bare her claws. That didn’t mean she backed away from a fight when he showed up.

Bruce had tried reasoning with her at first. Tried to talk her out of this.

‘Just give me the necklace, Cat. You can walk, I won’t try to stop you,’

She hadn’t even answered, he just heard the crack of her whip and felt it wrap around his ankle. That had been when she pulled. Hard.

His head had smacked against the floor (hence the concussion from his first mask) and his vision separated before the two Selina’s morphed back into one and he jumped to his feet. She was laughing, and flipping backwards into slow backbends, dodging the lasers as they moved.

Cat got up gracefully at the entrance to the museums gem display, standing under the skylight she had cut a hole in, her dark tan skin glowing in the moonlight.

‘Shit’

“Let me help you Selina,” he had called out, feeling awkward and second guessing the cape. Was the batsuit, or whatever they were calling it too much? It felt like too much. Especially when she looked like that.

“Bat,” she called out, climbing up to the ceiling, “I appreciate the offer,” from where he was standing it looked like she was smiling. Why was she smiling, this was a robbery? This was a robbery, why wasn’t he stopping her?

“But I don’t need your help,”

That was the last time he had let her go (and he had let her go, no matter what Alfred had said as he held the ice pack to his head). It’s not like he was going to hurt her for real. Fighting with her didn’t bring the same frustrations of feeling more like a kid playing dress up then a white knight or whatever he was supposed to be. Fighting with Selina was . . . a game, kind of, he wasn’t sure exactly. It was confusing, she was confusing and he felt sixteen again every time, because she was infuriating.

And he loved every second of it.

Which is why he noticed when it had been weeks since he had seen her. On a rooftop, at a gala, in a bank, a jewelry store. He didn’t give a damn where, but if he went one more night without her trying to steal something-

That sounded bad. Bruce didn’t want her to break the law. But he wanted her to sneak into the manor late at night, wanted her to perch on the arm of his chair and ask about any scratches like they hadn’t come from her. He could act the part of the playboy but it was still Selina he wanted there in the morning.

Bruce sighed and checked the time. It was almost four am. She wasn’t going to show up. He should probably loose the cape.

It was too early when Alfred woke him up, afternoon sunlight pouring through the the windows as the drapes were pulled back by his very clearly sadistic butler who turned on the shower, told him to stop sulking and go shave, turned an abrupt 180 and left the room muttering something about teenagers. Bruce would have shouted back a reminder that he was an adult but the fact that he currently had burrowed into his covers to avoid the daylight seemed to hurt his point.

The rest of the day was filled with Alfred trying to fit all the calories he missed by sleeping through breakfast into one meal (he could live with protein powder but it didn’t belong in orange juice) and being quizzed on board members and their wives. Because on top of everything a bunch of people he didn’t care about were coming to his house.

If Carter Hearst didn’t stop talking about his newest secretary like she was a piece of meat he was going to stab a steak knife into his own thigh. Or the shriveled old man making his way through a bottle and a half of scotch. Both would work. Bruce was trying to silently communicate to Lucius a message to save who ever this woman was and have her work for literally anyone else, when he saw her.

Barely a second and it was only a glimpse of the side of her face before she disappeared back into the crowd but everything in him knew it was Selina. He didn’t even realize he was craning his neck till Lucius’s foot connected with his ankle disapprovingly. Right, yeah, people.

“You’ll all have to excuse me,” he said, grinning broadly trying to really turn on the charm, do anything to get him out of the table. She was not slipping through his fingers like this, not when he hadn’t seen her for months.

“I see an executive I really do have to talk to. You all know how it is, I’m sure.”

“Which executive?” Lucius asked, feigning interest as the old man tried to keep the laughter off his face. Bruce glared and desperately tried to think of a name off the Wayne Enterprises directory.

“David Clemonte,”

Lucius took a sip of his drink and rubbed his beard thoughtfully “I could’ve sworn I remember Daniel telling me he wouldn’t be able to attend tonight,”

Was there a way of him faking a medical emergency that would require him to get to Selina? No, right?

“Ahh no, he was referring to the benefit in July. My mistake,”

Bruce was able to manage a forced chuckle before he all but sprinted away. She was out one one of the balconies that opened from the ballroom. He ran a hand through his hair and walked out to join her.

“Cat,”

Selina turned and everything in his stomach tightened. She had her hair pulled up to one side with a clip and earrings made of tiny gold strands brushed her shoulders. Her dress was black with straps crossing back and forth over her back and two slits in the skirt up her thighs.

“Hi,” she said in a way that made it very clear he had been caught staring. “Nice party, don’t really know anyone but I guess that’s what happens when you gatecrash,”

“I don’t either, not really,” he pointed out, taking a sip of her champagne, which if he was being honest, he preferred a thousand times over to the dark amber whiskey he had drank with the board. “These things are boring when you’re gone,”

Selina looked uncomfortable but laughed it off, and it sounded fake and hollow “Yeah well, I am kind of your only friend,”

“That’s not why I missed you,”

She turned away from him, staring out at the garden “I’m sorry,”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he didn’t know why she was. It’s not like they were . . . she didn’t owe him anything.

They were silent for a moment before she turned to him, took her glass out of his hand and tipped her head back, finishing it off with so little class it made him smile.

“Do you ever feel a kind of deja vu? Ever since,” Selina’s eyes flicked upwards to the roof and she smirked, “you know. Like we’re starting again but we both know we’ve done this before,”

“Groundhog’s Day,”

Her brow furrowed “I’ve never seen that movie,”

Bruce rolled his eyes “Okay, this and Star Wars, really?”

“Why would I watch boring movies? I’m pretty.” she teased and everything seemed to fall back into place. “Besides not all of us grew up with movie theaters in our house.”

“I know that,” he said sheepishly.

Selina snorted, that weird little snicker she did every time she had him beat, but she was smiling.

“What do you know?”

“I missed you,”

[blushing-starker]

Having a boyfriend that's a natural rule breaker becomes even more tedious because now it's two people conspiring together, itching to shatter social norms. Sure, they won't pull the fire alarm stunt to get out of a quiz (that's more Rocket and Groot's style), place mirrors on front steps to confuse Fury and nearly give the principal a heart attack (Loki with an exasperated Thor and cackling Hela) or hire a mariachi band to follow hall monitor Alexander Pierce (Steve had joined Bucky and Sam in that one); they'd never sneak into the air vents, fill them with glitter so the haughty board of directors would be covered in pink sparkles when they cranked the ac (Clint and Nat).

Ok, they did help with that last one, buying the shimmering stuff from T'Challa's sister and slipping five jars into Clint's backpack, but they didn't actually go into the vents.

But that's not the point. The point is there are limits to their rule breaking; Tony's spot on the football team and Peter's participation in the art club too important to risk on something as silly as skipping a quiz. No, they thanked their best friends, unhooked the window lock and slithered out only after finishing and handing in the quiz. They weren't amateurs.

Still, Peter knows Tony literally couldn't have chosen a worse time for their impromptu lunch date. (Luckily, he'd expected this exact situation.)

"Tony, they don't even have bad food today. We could just wait until the bell rang to meet up and eat at the bleachers. Like we always do a day before a big game."

His boyfriend swivels around, hooks nimble fingers into his belt loops to pull Peter closer, never once stumbling even while walking backwards. The grin he shows is manic, just this side of wild to let Peter know this isn't about haunting nightmares and bouts of anxiety. This is normal, too high on a feeling Tony Stark. Which means he won't head back to school unless Peter pulls out all the stops...

He's too exhausted from last night's art project to use up energy on the puppy eyes. So he sighs, tugs on the blue varsity jacket Tony loves to show off, kisses a dimple before turning this untamed creature around.

"Come on, I found a new route to that shawarma place with MJ and Ned last week." It sounds exasperated, but Tony knows Peter will do anything to keep him happy. Well. Not anything. There's only so many times they can discuss Star Wars before simply agreeing to disagree on whether Han and Luke are pan or bi.

"What, and you tell me this now?", Tony squawks indignantly from Peter's left side, freezing nose nuzzling into Peter's neck as revenge.

Like a robber caught sneaking into a vault, he raises his hands instantly before shoving Tony away.

"Hey, you were focusing on practice! If I told you, you'd bring Rhodey, he'd bring T'Challa and then Shuri would pop up and who goes where she goes? Bucky, which means Steve and Sam, who'd already be there thanks to Rhodey and of course Clint would somehow appear with Nat. We'd be together so Ned and MJ are gonna be teasing with Betty and half the guys in our grade have a crush on Nat, or MJ or Shuri or Betty or you. So what's the end result? The entire football, soccer, basketball and swim team eating shawarma a week before the games. I am not hearing Coach Coulson scold me for you guys breaking diet again. I'm already on his list, another situation like that and I'll have to run fifteen laps around the field."

"Oh come on, you can do those in your sleep." He could, but again, not the point.

"With a weighted backpack, Tony."

"Yeah, I can see why you wouldn't want that."

"Before cycling fifteen laps and then swimming fifteen laps."

"Jesus, why would he even do that?" Tony looks at him then, disgruntled at the thought of his boyfriend doing all that.

He shrugs, doesn't want to explain Peter had done it once when it all got too much and he'd needed to release the pent up energy. He hadn't noticed Coach watching him, ready to come help if he hurt himself. They'd talk afterwards, Coulson making him promise to never do that alone. Now it became a reward and a punishment. Peter won the art contest? Fifteen everything to focus his mind and not go jumping off walls in his excitement.

His students wolfing down a thousand calories before a game? Fifteen everything so Peter would at least "time it so it's not during the season, Jesus". To be fair to Peter, Tony participated in almost all the sports teams so scheduling was hard.

"Listen, just don't eat a whole animal, ok? We can split it, eat enough," he glares at Tony, pushing through even as the puppy eyes come out, "and then head to the movies. They're showing Aliens for a few days cuz of Halloween and I already texted the guys to come during lunch."

His boyfriend, smart and sharp and witty, just blinks at him. "But we have class after lunch."

"Technically, but I convinced Mr Pym to let the class out of lab so we could all hang out. It's the one class we share so now the whole group can see it together."

Tony stops, eyes wide and mouth open.

"You, what, planned this?"

"Yeah, something fun before tomorrow to take it off your mind for a while. Or, you know, not make it stand out as much. I know how focused you get, and it's really great, having that as a goal, strategizing and taking it seriously. But I also know it can be a lot, so I thought we should all hang out since each of us has something coming up and we aren't spending much time together. Which I get, responsibilities and family and school; I just missed it and I can't be the only one, right? So yeah, this was planned. Like, two weeks ago. When MJ found the new route, it was like a sign. And I really want you to relax and enjoy the whole, I have friends that care for me and a boyfriend that loves-"

He slaps a hand on his mouth, eyes impossibly wide and cheeks flaming. Tony and Peter stand immobile, the world reduced to beat up sneakers breaking the simplicity of yellow lines on black, a flickering neon sign telling them the shawarma place is open and two hearts slowly starting to beat again after that confession.

Ned would say it's romantic. MJ would bluntly remind them it's a bad idea to stand in the middle of the road even if they're saying I love you. And with good reason, since there's the telltale roar of a car bursting with teenagers, voices howling out the lyrics to an AC/DC song. And of course Peter notices the noise of rubber swerving against gravel, the screeching of old brakes and a few terrified shrieks harmonizing with a sharp wind blasting into him out of nowhere. Before he can react, Tony is there, wrapping his arms around Peter and shoving them both into the little patch of grass that grows from a crack in dirty pavement.

There's a moment where his whole world flips, tumbles until he screws his eyes shut and prepare himself for whatever the fuck caused that noise. But nothing comes. Only a sigh blowing a stray curl away from his forehead. But a sigh? Why would?

Tony.

He gasps, jolts upright and apologizes when that just serves to jostle his boyfriend further into the ground. His boyfriend who'd flip them so Peter wouldn't be hurt. Tony is peering at him through half shut eyes, discomfort clear on the grimace he tried to transform into a sheepish grin.

"So, you love me, huh?"

It's the stupidest thing Tony Stark has ever said.

"What the fuck were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt, you could have shattered a wrist, dislocated a shoulder, torn an ACL, bent a leg-"

"This is not what I expected. Also it was a three foot leap forward on grass, I'm fine, Peter."

"Or bashed your head, or busted an arm and then what would you do for the game tomorrow? Who the hell does that?"

"The guy you love, apparently."

"That's not the point, Tony, that's unimportant because you nearly got hurt. Christ, Coulson will slaughter me if there's a scratch on you, and then your mom would be sad and I'd be sad because, what would I do without you? And don't you ever do that again, I can't take it. I am not losing you, Tony. God, why would you do that, risk so much on-"

"On you? Babe, I'd do it again. Ok, not the right thing to say based on the whole face thing you got going on right now. But just hear me out. Don't, stop hitting me, ow, why are you hitting, how are you this strong, Jesus. Ow, stop it. Peter, for fuck's sakes, I love you, you animal. Now please let go of the jacket, it'll get wrinkles."

His hands unclasp the soft cotton, Tony falling back with a groan and Peter's unhinged jaw snapping shut after fifteen seconds of letting the flies in.

It's a wonderful thing, hearing the guy he's loved for so long say it back, say he loves Peter.

It's also fucking stupid since there's even more reason to not do stunts like that.

"You're an idiot. I'm in love with a guy that has one shared brain cell with Steve. You could have been hurt, Tony. And what would that have done, huh?"

His boyfriend sighs yet again, wraps an arm around Peter to push them from the ground and heads to the car where their friends are gawking. He waves them off, offers a "Yeah, I know I'm amazing, no, I didn't break anything, T'challa, yes, I can play, Jesus, Rogers, I can read you like a book. I appreciate the worry, Bruce; Nat, thanks for calming him down. Rhodes, excellent driving. No need to hog the seats, Sam, we need to settle in. Peter, you can keep cursing me out if you, yeah, see how it's nice being fun size when you fit in my lap in a car full of people. What, I'm not walking after that, I don't care if it's til we reach the parking. Let's go, Rhodes. Pepper, I'm fine. "

Clint offers a high five. Tony responds and that's that. Out of sight, Ned gives him a fist bump and MJ keeps on reading her book. It could just be his imagination, but Tony's sure she's smiling, approval clear on her face. He preens, glad to have her blessing, and settles his head on Peter's fluffy hair.

-----

When they're all laughing in a booth, smashed together and picking food off of everyone's plate, Peter nuzzles the crook of his neck, holds his hand and squeezes it. Tony smiles, lights up and shoves at Sam's face when the trio of best friends tease him for puffing his chest out when his boyfriend ever so softly says, "I love you."

"I love you, too." The table whoops and calls for another round of food and Coca-Cola, their family grinning at them and fondly teasing the new couple. Tony grins back, high on this feeling of warmth and happiness and safety and love.

And then Peter presses ice cold lips onto his neck and he lets out a shout, pain coursing through him when a knee slams into the table. His eyes water and through the haze of agony he sees their friends exchanging cash, some grumbling and others smirking. Rhodey and MJ, he notes, are the ones that win the most. They high five before pocketing the cash and ordering dessert.

Peter kisses his cheek, smile innocent and eyes wicked. It's his own fault Tony snatches an ice cube and slips it below his Nirvana shirt. He only has five seconds to lord his victory over Peter before there's ice cream being smeared on his cheek. They battle then, accidentally sending food into Wanda's lap, Clint's hair and Bucky's face.

In less than a minute they are all covered in shawarma and participating in the fight. Peter shrieks when Tony pulls him into his lap, gets chicken on the varsity jacket and tries to wriggle away. But Tony kisses him, tastes ice cream and joy, thanks whoever decided to give him a break and find this incredible person dozing on the roof of the school with Ned and MJ one spring afternoon. Peter kisses back and, at the same time, they say, confidently, honestly,

"I love you."

This is dedicated to @drarryismyshit07