#though nothing he could come up with would hold a candle to Bruce ‘God of torture’ Wayne

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

Yeah, people like to think that (adult) Jason’s snarky, cutting, and unapologetic post crisis characterization and the (mostly) “watered down”, docile personality he’s had from N52/rebirth onwards are irreconcilable, and that the shift was just an editorial decision with the intent of marketing him as a “likeable” hero.

While that last part might be true, have they considered that textually it makes perfect sense that being consistently in contact with an abuser just does that to a person. Wears them down until they feel like nothing but a husk, without any discernible direction or opinions of their own. If it isn’t completely burnt out yet, they (consciously or unconsciously) suppress that part of themselves that thinks independently either for self-preservation or to keep the peace. Considering anyone, even “mentally strong” people could fall victim to mental abuse, it’s actually pretty realistic imo.

[nevereverthem]

Gotham : Season 1 Episode 2

Okay... Two weeks later I'm finally watching the second episode... I'm NERVOUS guys!! The more I learn about that show, the more I'm growing unhinged over the characters and the plots like AH!!

Breathe, breathe... Aaaaahhhh. Let's go.

OH MY GOD!!

The little montage of the previous episode!! So cool!! And it starts with Oswald's voice, which is a plus. 🙄 Yeah, I know. 🙄

Bruce, in the living room, in the dark, and a candle. Way to be dramatic...

What is he... WHAT!? You're tryna see how long you can hold your hand over a flame before it's too much or before you burn and die, you stupid!? Jim told you to "be strong", not to turn into the Human Torch!! That's the story of his life, boy hesitated between two superheroes. 🤣

Alfred coming in though. x) Bruce immediately getting up and moving away from the candle like he's been caught masturbating. 🤣 Yeah sorry I thought about that. 😭🙃

"blabla my bloody ass..." I can't help with how Alfred talks. I LOVE it. 🤣🤣 It's just... I thought the rich family and butler thingy would mean incredible politeness... NOPE! x)

Bruce, hand behind his back. Bro, you're not subtle!! You could have just nonchalantly put both your hands down like nothing happened. People don't ask if there's no clue. x)

A "terrible liar". No shit! x)

"Come on, show me." Aaww, Alfred tryna be soft. 🥹

OMG!! How Alfred got angry so FAST!! Man's also emotionally struggling... Bruce lost both his parents and now he's doing things like this, hurting himself... Alfred doesn't want to lose him too... 🥲

When I see the skyscrapers of Gotham... It looks like it's gonna be a fancy party or whatever... and you're in a dark alley in the streets with Selina. Not complaining though. 😌

Oh! A necklace... 🤔

The homeless whatever program... Sounds suspicious! 🤨

Selina being called "Cat"! Of COURSE!

WHAT!? What are they being jabbed with, damn it!? And the dude just shot the older guy left!? What on heart!? Run Selina, RUN!!

"Oh, fudge!" Like, we drug/kill people, but we don't curse. That's called manners. 🤣😭

The guy thrown through a window, dear GOD! Enjoy your dinner. 🙃🥲

Jim's face when he discovers the homeless guy that's been shot...

The military plate. 😱 That hits hard for Jim. Like it's become personal, you know.

Selina, watching... I mean it's her episode! And, she's got a thing for stalking, watching.

Harvey with the coffee "I bought you one but I dropped it." Just shut up! 🙃

The officer assumes that the "homeless junkie" jumped through a window!? Man!! I hate those assumptions!! Someone threw him, you dick! These cliché!

"You're not a bad guy, you're just a bad cop!" Jim got up to drop bombs!! 💥😱

Jim starting a fight with the other cop damn. X)

Harvey dropping HIS coffee is KARMA!! 🤣🤣

At the GCPD,

You see, the guy's not high!! He was assaulted!!

[I'm 5 minutes in and I've already written that much so you either bear with me or just go read something else. 'Cause it's gonna be a long ride!]

"Nobody gives a crap about us!!" So true...

"We're grown ups. We're smarter than you." STOP YOUR BULLSHIT!! You piss me off Harvey!! Am I gonna like him at some point or not? 'Cause your age doesn't determine your intelligence!

Harvey says that he's gonna "beat the truth out of him"!? What is that??

WHAT!? Harvey is such a damn hypocrite!! Jim tells him that he can't beat a 16 year-old down, so Harvey brings up the "not long since you put a man in the river". You're an ASS!! (and Jim did not do it 🙄)

Jim is a "pain in the arse" because he wants to do his job correctly!? Okay, right!! Tell me Harvey's gonna get better. 😭

OMG Jim pushing Harvey away! The reaction of the 16yo guy! x)

An officer, "Hey, watch the shoes, clown!" and Harvey just punches him!? I... Are the cops in Gotham all... yeah yeah, it's the city... 🥲 Harvey needs to sleep RIGHT NOW! "Shift's over." Damn right. 😅

Aaaaahhhhhh!! That's the scene!! Oswald tryna stop a car!! I'm already screaming!!

The WALK!! My little disabled baby. 🥹🐧 (I'm allowed, I'm disabled too)

The guys stopping, then moving, then stopping, then moving again... You can already see the shift on Oswald's face...

The song they listen to is nice though. Don't know what it is but appreciate.

Dick! Spraying Oswald in his face! Bro. Just hand him deodorant idk.

I have a thing for the way Oswald talks. Complete sentences with specific chosen words... The sound of his voice... Melting! 🫠🫠

A beer? Oswald drinking a beer is so odd to me. That goes with the "frat boys-ish" cliché then. Rure dicks who drink at any time. ~ I suppose.

"What the hell happened to you anyhow?" -> "It was my own fault. Foolish arrogance lead me astray." You see what I'm talking about!? 😍🫠 Or is it just me who lacks english skills? 🤔

"I'll be back." (I had to. x))

All it took was for the guy to tell him that when he walks he looks like a "penguin" and that was it! The shift bro!! How he stabbed the guy with the broken bottle. Damn it! I already knew about that scene but in context it's WOW!! Plus, the fact that he was already called "penguin" before he got his leg injured... And now the way he walks because of it adds to the nickname... Dude's had ENOUGH!! Then again, these guys were dicks, but I don't condone their execution dude! 😅🙃

💥 INTRO TITLE 💥

I mean, right after that scene is such a good choice!

"I thought you were with the program." The fact that their chief is in all this is AH. And the... "It's not like I can order you to break the law but... This is Gotham." 🤣😭 That city's cursed my boy!

AAAAHHHH!! Edward peeking through the glass door!! I'm hyperventilating again!!

He's always so giddy with excitement, it's so refreshing! Yeah, I know how it turns out... But let me appreciate just sheer enthusiasm. 😌

Btw, Harvey looks so done, while Jim is intrigued. x)

The "old Arkham Asylum". Here, we're talking about the real things, damn it!!

"Thank you, Ed." And he stays there... Of course, who decided that 'thank you' would also mean 'now you shall leave'? 🙄 Neurotypicals... 🙄

Arkham's been close for 15 years!? 😱 Suspicious again? Not so closed I guess...

Harvey asking if Fish Mooney is still mad at them... 🤣🤣 Wanna bet?

The band playing at her club is 🔥🔥.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Imma melt every time I hear french. 🫠🫠

Falcone!! Btw, how Butch immediately saw the change on Fish's face and got up! That's his job I know, but he genuinely looked concerned.

The face of the waiter though. His smile! Is he onto something or does his job amuse him that much? Like, "serving the Mob, how exciting!" x)

"Men who are about to die are very honest. It pays to listen to them." Lmao, me instantly thinking of Oswald in the previous episode. Btw, is Falcone always gonna drop these quotes? I'm all for it!

The Waynes and Falcone were sort of linked!? Oh crap. The two balanced each other... Huh, interesting. 🤔

Oh, the Maroni family...

"I never lose sleep over my enemies. It's my friends that keep me awake." SEE!? 😱😱 The man is dropping insane quotes each time he speaks!!

How Oswald metaphorically spat on Fish when he talked to Falcone. Dude tried to save his ass all the ways he could. x) 🥲

FISH!! Why ya lying? Why ya fucking lying? Blabla "deep love" blabla "respect" blabla "like a father"... Falcone's not buying it. He surely isn't that stupid.

Fish about her love life. 💔

Oooohhh that's why the waiter had that smile. 🤣🤣 He sleeps with Fish, right, right.

What!? WHAT!? The man gets beaten up in the middle of the club... I...

"Thank you for being honest with me. It means a lot to me. It shows wisdom and humility." -> Translation : "If you betray me, you'll end up like that guy (and/or) I'll break everything you love."

Aaww Oswald's picture. He looks so innocent. (He's not x))

Gertrud!! Renee and Crispus though.

"A woman!? You're sure?" Hum.... NOPE. x)

"GCPD?" "Like that, but honest." I can't argue with that. 😅🙃

Butch, I like the blue tie. ☺️

Fish swearing she's gonna kill Falcone some day soon. Damn! I know he dies, but is it her doing? 🤔

"I just wish that Penguin was still alive." OMG 🤣🤣🤣🤣 "I didn't make that little punk suffer near badly enough." Well... Disabled for life is enough in my knowing opinion... 😅

OMG Oswald 🤣🤣 driving the car of the guys who took him hitchhiking and that he killed. 🙄

Where did he put the bodies though? 🤔

Oswald renting a van? "I'm not fussy." Hum, liar. But in your current state it's clearly enough. 🙃

The bodies are in trash bags? Man! Where did he get the bags though? 🤔

Btw, Oswald drives with his bad leg!! Doesn't that hurt?

OMG, the kidnapped kids waking up! 😱

Aaaaahhhh Harvey walking in, all heart-eyed for Fish, internally asking for mercy. 🤣

Jim still doesn't buy their bullshit and I appreciate it SO MUCH!!

"Guess you misjudged me." Nope, nope dude. You couldn't kill Penguin. She was right. But they don't know... Yet. 🙃🙄😅😧

"You're just a little sinner like the rest of us." Why does it sounds like she's trying to flirt with him? 😭

Still this "... no one cares to know." That infuriates me!!

Aw, Barbara and Jim. 🥰

"Can't believe the system is so corrupt."

"You have no idea."

"What do you mean?"

OOPS. 🤣🤣🤣🤣 Jim's face. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Jim, you're a terrible liar!! At least you can't lie to Barbara. She sees right through you!!

OMG how she called the newspaper just like that! AWESOME. 🤣😎

"Don't do it again." - "Yes, boss!"... Jim's breathing just after, like... They had fun I think. 🙄🥰

Gotham at night is always so different damn!

The guy who sells the drug : "I gotta stand up for what is right here."... Dude... You don't care about the children... You're asking for more money to run away and cover your ass...

"The doll maker doesn't tolerate failure..." The implications of his name sounds so creepy. 😭😭😭😭

"You didn't call the Gazette, but did your girl call the Gazette?" Harvey, deduction, on point at least. 👌

"You gotta learn to control your woman." SHUT UP RIGHT THERE YOU- AH!

"Kinda like her the way she is." Aw, green flag again.

Harvey'd talk about women, just... Yeah shut up.

OMG, the "bad guys" put on an act for the detectives, I can't. You know, the woman looks very cliché respectable... but she's not. 🙃

The guy in the corner holding a gun to the man in charge of the 'shop'... OMG x)

Each time I hear "Arkham Asylum" I can't help but think about Jerome... I CAN'T WAIT!! Okay... Calm down... I'm wet... Wait!... What was that? 🙄 (Btw, I know Jerome is like 17 - 18 when he's arrested... but the ACTOR was 21 at the time, so it's okay!! Not being disgusting here, thank you.)

"[...]The Wayne Foundation is planning on reopening the old place again." WHAT!? That was THEIR plan?? Okay, I'm out, I'm out. x)

OMG that was so COOL!! The whole speech and then the hint : "Nobody's safe!" Lights out, shooting! 😱

How Harvey yells "JIM!!" Corrupted cops, arguments, but still a partnership somehow. 😌

The owner erupting from under the table. x)

JIM!! GUN!! And his FACE. The determined gaze!! 🫠🫠

Jim shot the old guy in a snap of a finger!

He fell down the hole... Where does that lead to?

Rescuing these children at least!

OMG The Mayor, plus Harvey, Jim and their boss, plus the children in front of journalists. "[...]We will take care of you as if you were our own children[...]" BULLSHIT!! They are homeless children that you didn't care about before... But now it's on the news so it's important... Ladies and gentlemen, here is the truthful representation of society and politics! 🙃🙃🙃🙃

Oh, my bad, they're taking the kids off of the streets and taking them elsewhere. At least they're doing something... Selina's expression though. That looks like massive arrestation, not a caring program... But hey... Benefit of the doubt. 🤷‍♀️

A toast? Fuck you.

Foster homes for the "cute, undamaged" ones... And "correction facilities" for the others... WHAT ON EARTH!? Benefit of the doubt MY ASS!!

"I see you're using the child snatchers as a pretext to lock up children... without a trial." 💥 JIM! How I LOVE YOU! ❤️ Ain't afraid of no politician! The guy fooled a Mob boss. Ya think he's gonna let a Mayor alone?

"Thank you my friend. Valuable input. Most refreshing." I... I can't deny the Mayor's response is amazing. x) Amazingly infuriating, but on point!

OMG Alfred at the GCPD.

Aaww, Alfred is asking Jim for help concerning little Brucey. 🥹🥹😭😭

"Never had a child before." - "Nor me." x)

"Tea time, should we say." Is Alfred english? The man says "bloody" and talks about "tea time". I swear it's as cliché as that!

Bruce, the desk is so big compared to you. (Height jokes, I'm also very petite, mind you)

Is Bruce listening to METAL!? DUDE!! And those drawings? Man's entering his alternative phase. 🤣🤣 I'm ALL FOR IT! I know his parents were murdered and it's all dark, but let me fantasize.

Selina asking to talk to Jim Gordon!! Girl's been listening. Girl's tryna get a way out of juvi.

Aw, is it her mother in the necklace pendant?

Oh no! Don't let it hang off your pocket! You're gonna lose it. 😭😭

Selina's already went to juvi apparently, got some experience.

OMG!! Actually made me GASP!! The snatchers in the bus!! 😭😭 Selina instantly recognising the lady and the man. 😭😭

The Mayor's angry... Angry he's gonna look bad on the news yes. 🙄

For once, Harvey's right about hitting the drug seller guy!! Jim's standing still, watching. He's got his approval.

"He doesn't like it when I beat people, but for you he has no objection, why is that?" OMG Harvey, EXACTLY!! Jim's breathing gives it away though, can't say he likes it.

"Math. The lives of thirty children versus one scumbag." JIM!! 😮 Please, is he using the word "scumbag" to mimic Harvey? 🙄

"So I can beat you [...] and Saint Jim won't interfere." PLEASE 🤣🤣😭😭

When the man starts giving informations and Harvey wants to beat him again, Jim stops him. Jim stays Jim. 😌

Shipping containers? Really, human merchandise...

Selina hiding on the bus. OBVIOUSLY. Not subtle though. Duck your head, you stupid! 😭

Honestly, she couldn't have hidden efficiently. That's not realistic. The woman should have seen her!

Anyway, got out, hid under the bus. Fair.

The dude's really like "meh, miscounted, we have enough kids anyway." High five! I... Filthy little... AH!

Selina running away... She technically shouldn't have been able to escape... But again, there wouldn't be a story if she hadn't. 🙄

OMG the logo!!

Trident Intercontinental shipping... Really!?

"My eyes. She scratched me!" OMG the payoff!! Selina told the little boy to "go for their eyes" which she did!! AWESOME!!

OMG, she's got fucking CLAWS in place of her nails damn it!! 🩸🩸

Okay... Guy's been shot. RIP. I mean, you were working in children trafficking, so... No RIP. Go to Hell.

Bitch's searching for Selina... When is Jim gonna come to the rescue!? With a bunch of cops I hope...

Just, her ripped skinny jeans and leather jacket... 😌😌

Oh no, the necklace!! BUT, another payoff!! The necklace has been hanging for dear life on the edge of her pocket since she got on the bus!

"You are a very naughty little girl." Ok. 🙃

JIM!! I KNEW IT!! BABYYYYY!! Whack her!

Selina not wanting to say her name. Again. Meh, at least your wish was granted, you got to see Jim Gordon. x)

Harvey's here too, obviously. Is it just the two of them? Seriously!? There is no squad for rescuing a bunch of children!?

Yeay Harvey got the other bastard! At least he did that!

Oh, Wayne's manor! Alfred. Jim. And tea. 😉

Bruce : No sleep. When he does sleep he has nightmares. Burning, cutting himself... Brucey baby no 🥺🥲

No psychiatrist. That's the rule...

Alfred wanting to live up to Bruce's parents expectations for his education. 🥹 "Trust him to choose his own course."

"Sounds like a recipe for disaster." 🤣😭 JIM.

"He wants you to talk some sense into me." Aaaaahhhh Bruce eavesdropping!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣 Cackling, rolling on the floor. I know it's supposed to be sad, but I can't help it!

Alfred said "bloody" again! I swear! I'm gonna count them! x) 3 in 2 episodes for now.

"Alright, Bruce. Talk to me." - "I'm perfectly fine." Yup. That's the response of someone who's not doing well. I mean look at him. 🥲

"Alfred's a worrywart." Bitch. x)

Aaaaahhhh "Talking to someone can be very helpful." - "You must have seen terrible things in the war. Does it help you to talk about what you saw?" - "Yes, a little." - "You're not a very good liar." BOOM!! That exchange!! That's the second time in the episode that someone tells him that. I can't. x) Patterns guys. Patterns!

"I'm testing myself!" What did I say at the beginning, huh!?

Bruce grabbing a biscuit and sitting on the couch. I love when eating is used as a "fuck you/no thank" device. x)

Alfred standing in the corner. Cutie butler. 🥹

AaaaH Bruce talking about the children, talking about money... and Jim saying that what they need is someone to care for them, like Alfred does for him. Well played Jim, well played!! 😌🥹

"There must be something I can do." Oh. Callback? He couldn't do anything for his parents. Now he wants to do something whenever he can? 🤔😭

Oh, they were given clothes then! Right!

"After all this, you're sending us upstate?" Selina's so right! One more trauma for these children and now juvi. Yeay. 🙃🙃🙃🙃 STUPID!

She's 13? Bruce is 11. Huh!

Oh... Her mother is nowhere to be seen, legally considered dead... Another mystery. 🤔

"Go get him (Gordon), or I'll say you touched me." I... Oh My... Ah! She... Ok... Ah... "James Gordon... I'm gonna scream in about three seconds..." SHE IS AH!

Oswald aaaahhhh!! 😌😌

I was wondering when we were gonna get news from your whereabouts...

Laying on the van's floor... Is he wearing borrowed clothes from the man he rented the van from or... Is it the clothes of the dudes that he killed? Could be possible. I can't.

Baby? Your makeup is smudged.

OMG, Gotham's map!! Falcone. The Mayor ("oink"). Wayne. Harvey. Jim (stooge lmao). Fish (Bitch!) with the bloody knife! x) OMG that's someone who's got a plan! 😱😱

His phone ringing, how he got up though. OMG! He kidnapped the guy who was driving!? How did he... OMG!! Oswald!! Why did you... Ah!

Oh MY GOD!! How the guy's mother thinks it's a trick from her son! Like she isn't even trying! Oswald sent a fucking video and asked for 10,000$. He is even willing to lower the ransom. And the woman still isn't buying it! "Well that's disappointing." 🤣🤣🤣🤣 That's peak morbid comedy! x) "She didn't believe me. You must be quite the scamp." RIGHT, huh? How far must you have gone before, that your parents don't even bat an eye at your kidnapping, thinking it's a joke and not even doubting it a second!?

And, Oswald's smile. PLEASE!

Ah, Selina, here finally comes JIM GORDON. 🎉

"I've been watching you. You're friends with the boy. You're not like the rest of those folks." Jim immediately looking around, judging his own colleagues. Damn right girl! x)

"The boy? Bruce? What do you mean you've been watching me?" X)

I love that she's 13 and already got people around her finger. x)

She knows about Mario Pepper being a patsy. Jim is impressed, confused and worried. 🤣🤣

"Could you get me out?" - "It's possible." Jim bargaining. x)

"I saw who really killed the Waynes. Saw him clear as day."

Aaaahhh that's right! She was right there, hiding! Not to get killed herself! 😱😱 Did she actually saw what he looked like? I mean, Bruce saw him up close... Maybe Selina has other informations... details Bruce didn't notice... 🤔 We'll see...

OMG!!

It took me 4 hours to watch the episode & write down my reactions. I press the pause button so much, rewind too! It is so WORTH the time! 😌

Will we hear about the "doll maker" again? 🤔

Oswald got me thinking... He killed a man for a sandwich. Then killed a man for a car and kidnapped the other for money.

Btw, how did he do that, like... The guy should have had physical dominance, right? Let's say Oswald's got secret abilities!

But please! Does this mean he killed before? Like, the old fisherman wasn't his first? 🤔

Btw, that's some elaborate map/planning board that he's got there. That's so amazing seeing where he is now, and knowing what he's going to become later... That's some climbing the ladder of (criminal) success!

Where did he get all the pictures though? Newspaper, magazines??

Anyway...

Building, building, the second episode and more mysteries... and problems. 🤣🤣

Edward seems so innocent for now, that's... Ah!

Okay stopping now.

If you've read that far, THANK YOU!! 🫶💕

Looking forward to the next episode. 😌😍

[woahajimes]

Have you ever wondered how Damian would handle an instagram account? 

For starters, Damian doesn’t even know he has an instagram account. It’s until Bruce answers a question at an interview that Damian finds out he has an instagram account. Bruce had created it for him, for god-knows-what reason. Yet Damian has to act like he has known all along, that he has an instagram account. 

Once Bruce gets him settled into a username that very literally is just Damian’s name as the son of the billionaire, Damian does absolutely nothing. He doesn’t follow anyone, he doesn’t post anything. He doesn’t even  have a profile picture. For all everyone knows, Bruce Wayne could have lied and that account is just some rando’s. 

And months pass, Damian’s account is the literal same every single day, and trust me, people have checked. Damian couldn’t actually care less about his instagram account, the only reason he hasn’t deleted the app completely is because he rarely even uses his phone. He just carries it around in his pocket when he’s out as Damian Wayne. 

It’s almost a year, and Damian is out with Dick, they’re getting lunch or something. Dick has ordered a burger, Damian stuck with a veggie option. And they’re about to start eating and Dick takes out his phone, snaps a picture. 

“What are you doing?” Damian asks him. 

Dick stares at Damian. “It’s for my instagram story.” And then he starts typing some caption or something. 

And even though I, op, don’t have younger brothers, I do have a younger sister and I can tell you that little siblings copy like, everything you do. And I know we’re talking about Damian, but still. Damian took his phone out and he snapped a picture, Dick in the shot as well. He posted it in his story, he didn’t put a caption. 

And then later that day, Damian remembered that he hadn’t saved that picture he took. So he opened the instagram app and he saw a little circle around his empty profile picture. He decided that he liked it. It went from purple to pink to orange to yellow to orange to pink and back to purple. 

So this became a routine of his, after all, it would cost him next to nothing. To take a picture and post it on his story. It would keep the little ring around his profile picture. And he’d get replies to his stories and he’d get tagged in pictures and he’d get thousands of followers and he’d get tagged in comments and new requests and all those things that famous accounts get. 

And it’s not like the pictures ever made sense. The first week they were things like the cover of his sketchbook, or this plant he found in the garden. Maybe it was the map on his wall, or alfred the cat and titus. He wouldn’t even take time with these pictures. He’d just remember every day about the little circle around his default profile picture and he’d grab his phone, and  he’d take a picture of the nearest thing he could find. He never bothered to write a caption, nor put a song, anything. 

And as time passes, the logic of the pictures becomes blurry. Why would the heir of the richest man in gotham post a picture of a crack on the pavement? 

But sometimes, people doubt that Damian even takes these pictures. Because sometimes they’re pictures of gotham at night, when the sky is pitch black, starless. And this one time, Damian is out on patrol, the sun is rising, he still hasn’t gone home. The sky reminds Damian of the little ring around his profile picture. So Damian sets his phone to record automatically and so it records towards the sunset. And because Damian would place himself against the light, the figure would look pitch black, a plain shadow against the sunset. So Damian sets his phone and he takes his cape off, he has his grappling hook, but he’ll use it once he’s out of the camera shot. And then he gets the video going (his phone is leaning on a plant pot, there’s another building that ends nearly as the camera shot begins. So Damian swings from where he set his phone, to the other building, and he just. 

Jumps. 

He’s jumping headfirst and he’s whooping loudly, laughing almost. He’s done this so many times yet something is just nicer. 

it was awesome. 

And he posts the video, but silences it. Nobody can see Damian’s uniform, nor his mask. For all they know, Damian hired someone to jump, or maybe he even threw a mannequin or something.  

That was the only video Damian posted on his story. The rest, every other day, theRE were just pictures. 

We skip time a bit more and Damian was with Jon, when he still lived in hamilton. They were by the tree they were always at, and Damian was taking a picture of the bark of the tree. Because bark. 

And Jon just stares at Damian. “What the h are you doing?” 

Damian shrugs. "Just taking a picture.”

Jon snatches the phone from him. They’re close enough friends. He goes to the camera and holds the phone up straight, he sets it to the front camera.

“My mom does this all the time,” he says. “She calls them selfies.” 

Jon snaps a picture. Then he checks it. He’s smiling, Damian is not. “You’re so lame! Did nobody ever teach you how to smile?” 

Jon snaps a second picture, Damian’s still not smiling. Third picture, Damian’s expression moves a bit, but it's just him rolling his eyes. 

“Come on, Damian! SMILE!” Jon takes another picture, he checks it. Damian’s smiling dramatically, he looks like Jon looks in family pictures he doesn’t want to take. He’s not smiling with his teeth, his eyes are practically closed, his nose is scrunched up. If anything, he looks more disgusted than happy. “Ugh, we’ll just try another day, i guess.” 

This became a sort of routine. Every day they saw each other as civilians, Jon would take a selfie with Damian. Sometimes he smiled, if he was in the right mood. It didn’t really matter, Damian never posted those pictures on his story. 

Now we take Damian’s fourteenth birthday. This, Damian decides, is a much better way to spend his birthday than the last one. Bruce isn’t there, but his brothers are, his best friends also are. Alfred and Jon, Dick, Tim, and Jason. They’re eating strawberry cake, with the ‘happy 14th!’ in pink frosting and everything. It is now his first option, thanks to Alfred.

Anyways, they’re slicing the cake, Damian just blew out the candles. Jon takes his phone out, the one he got when he turned eleven. He doesn’t have an instagram account, Lois wouldn’t let him, but Jon still takes a picture of everything. 

Alfred asks Damian for his phone, so he can take a picture. Damian shakes his head, yet he takes out his phone. He’s at the head of the table, he puts his phone on the front camera. He hands it to Alfred. 

“Jon likes to call them ‘selfies’,” Damian explained. He showed Alfred. “Here, you take them like this.” 

Damian took his phone back from Alfred, he stretched his arm with the phone. He called out Tim’s name, and all of them looked up. 

“Smile!” Damian snapped a picture, he grinned. He looked at the picture, he liked it. Alfred was grinning, like in that picture in which he’s with Bruce when he was little, and they’re both laughing at something.

Damian decided that this picture was too nice for it to go on his 24-hour ring. Besides, he had already put a picture of Jason helping prepare the frosting. He didn't need two stories in the same day. 

So he drafts the post, and there’s the option to edit the image, but Damian skips it. It’s nice as it is.

He posts it, he doesn’t write a caption.

taglist: @hauntingsonofrobin @bikoncon @catxsnow @screennamealreadyused @thesporklecat @thesesickfics-justmakemesick andd i think i got it all idk 

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Lazy Mornings - 1

Lazy Mornings:  A Captain America Fanfic

Lazy Mornings Masterlist | More Small Gods

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:  2361

Warnings: Mentions of injuries.  (smut on series)

Synopsis: Steve Rogers has trouble taking time for himself.  When his friends set him up with a person with a very unusual skill, perhaps he can learn that the quiet moments are just as important as everything else.

A/N: Reader is a minor god.  Idea expanding on the one in my fic Lazy Sundays though it’s a completely different story (just same minor god x steve).

IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED IN THIS LET ME KNOW.

Chapter 1

Steve was on edge.  The Avengers had just come to the end of a very long, and very grueling mission.  With the lack of sleep, niggling injuries, and stress of battle, that would have been enough to have him anxious and exhausted just by itself, but Tony had insisted that they have a party to unwind while Steve still had government agencies to liaise with, paperwork to fill out, and people to question.  So instead of getting his work done so that he could sleep off his injuries and actually unwind, he had to be ‘on’ as the public figurehead of Captain America for a bunch of strangers while he was still running on less than four hours of sleep and had a cracked rib.

As he made his way through the large, open room, Steve became aware of a strange phenomenon.  The people around the door were in full party mood.  People were dancing, talking animatedly, and playing games of darts.  But as Steve moved through the room, the mood got more relaxed.  There was less dancing and more just talking and sharing drinks.  The level of the music dropped so it was more muted and even though the song never changed it somehow felt like it went from an upbeat dance number to a soothing ballad.  The light changed in the room too.  Closer to the elevator bright-colored disco lights cutting through the dark.  Whereas, by the windows, there was a soft diffused gold light, almost like early morning light coming through a gauze curtain.  By the time Steve reached the couches that were set up on a platform against the windows on the far side of the room, everyone was just lazing back on the couches, casually drinking in the soft light.

Thor, Bruce, Wanda, and Clint were all sitting together with you.  Steve didn’t recognize you, but the soft glow in the room seemed to both highlight you and make you seem like you were in soft focus. You had a slightly ruffled look like you’d woken up recently from a very good sleep.  Clint was practically curled up next to you like a cat.

“Steven!”  Thor boomed, making everyone near him jump in surprise.  “Come here, I have someone I wish for you to meet.”

Steve tried to hide the frustration that suddenly bubbled up inside him.  His friends had been trying to set him up with people for months and months now.  He’d been on countless blind dates with people he had nothing in common with, and even more dinners with surprise guests he was forced to be on with.  He hadn’t expected it from Thor and he resented the fact that even after such a grueling few weeks he needed to now play a round of the dating game.

Thor got up and approached Steve, clapping him on the shoulder as he gave your names.  He leaned in, bringing his lips to Steve’s ear.  “You may feel the urge to pull away.  Resist it - for me.”

Steve sighed and nodded as you looked up at Thor.  “You’re not staying?”  You asked.

“Not tonight,” Thor answered.  “I wish to celebrate.”

You gave him a small nod.  “Well, you know where I am if you need me.”

“I do.  Thank you,” Thor said, letting Steve go and heading back into the party where Tony was talking animatedly with Hill.

Steve took a seat near you.  Clint looked up at him with hooded eyes, like Steve had just disturbed his sleep, but not enough to properly wake him up.  There was an odd feeling of lethargy around the couches.  Not in a bad way exactly.  Just an overly relaxed sleepiness that made Steve wonder if they’d been partaking in marijuana before he’d gotten here.  Along with the sleepy-looking Clint, Wanda had her legs tucked up under her and was staring absently out the window, while Bruce was relaxed back with a goofy looking smile on his face.  It strangely had the effect of making him want to get up and leave in case he’d forgotten to do something.

“So what do you do?”  Steve asked as he resisted the urge to go back down to the office and get his work done.

You smiled and shook your head like you found the question funny.  “I like to paint,” you say.  “And I make a mean breakfast.”

Steve looked at you puzzled.  He’d never come across someone who answered that question with their hobbies rather than their job.  He wondered if you didn’t have one and were embarrassed or if you did something you didn’t think Steve would approve of.  The thought you were a HYDRA agent passed through his head and he looked over at Thor.  “How do you know Thor?”  Steve asked and Wanda started to giggle.

“We run in similar circles,” you say.  “Though I admit, I do not know him well.”

“She’s not HYDRA, Steve,” Wanda giggled.

That knowledge made Steve relax a little and you smiled at him.  “You’re holding a lot of tension, Captain Rogers.”

“Please, call me Steve,” he said.  “We’ve been on a mission for weeks now.  It takes a lot of me.  Everyone really.”

You placed your hand gently on his forearm.  He normally didn’t like when strangers invaded his personal space like that.  He’d had a fair amount of sexual harassment since becoming a supersoldier.  However, there was nothing even flirtatious about the moment.  It was genuine and kind and made him relax even more.  “It can be hard to let it go,” you said.  “But you are done, and now you can take the weight off your shoulders.  No need to carry it tonight.”

Steve tilted his head.  “Are you a therapist?”

You chuckled again.  “I guess - of a sort,” you said.

Steve was perplexed by the vague nature of your answers and couldn’t help thinking people were hiding something from him like this was some big trick.  Though he couldn’t see any reason why Thor of all people would be the instigator of such a trick.

“Will you relax, Steve?”  Wanda chided.  “She’s just a girl Thor thought you’d like.”

Steve tried to do as he was told.  He had to admit that it wasn’t easy though.  You definitely had a calming influence.  Despite the loud music and drinking happening in the rest of the room, at the couches, it was like a slumber party.  Bruce looked as relaxed as Steve had ever seen him, his whole body open and still as he talked calmly.  Clint dozed on and off, waking to join in on the conversation and then dropping back off to sleep again, while Wanda was giggly, and about an hour in she said she was going to go to bed and paint her toenails.

Whatever it was that was affecting the others, Steve could feel it too, but in the middle of what was a raging party, Steve was unwilling to completely relax.

“You don’t like it here much, do you?”  You asked.

Steve shrugged.  “I don’t mind a party sometimes, but no… not today.”

“I bet it’s been a long time since you’ve had a home-cooked meal,” you mused.  “Would you like to come back to my place?”

“No,” Clint whined as Steve balked.  “Don’t go.”

“I don’t… that’s probably not a good idea,”  Steve said.

“I meant for dinner, Steve,” you said.  “I promise, no funny business.”

Clint sat up and stretched.  “You should do it, Steve,” he said.  “Live a little.”

Steve looked at Clint and Bruce who were both nodding in approval.  He sighed and gave a small shrug.  “I guess I’m coming then.”

You got up and offered your hand.  “Come on, I won’t bite.”

He let you lead him out of the Tower and down into the street where you flagged down a cab.  “I don’t usually do this,” Steve said, as he sat in the back with you.

“I know,” you said.  “That’s why Thor set us up.”

“You’re not…” he stopped, not sure how to ask the question that was swirling in his mind right now and have it not come out as either offensive or judgmental.  “Are you a sex worker?”

You smiled and shook your head.  “No.  I like my bed though.”

“Why are you being so vague then?”  Steve asked.

“I can tell you if you really want to know,” you said.  “But Thor thought you might fight it more if you knew.”

Steve tensed up and shifted away from you a little.  “Do the others know?”

“Oh, yes,” you said.  “And I know you don’t know me well enough to trust me, but I promise what it is, won’t hurt you.  I’m not evil or malicious.  I am not here because I have to be or I’ve been paid to be.  You truly have just been set up with a woman.  And I am that.  I like you and I just want to take you somewhere you can relax and just enjoy a comforting meal.  That’s all.  If you don’t trust your friend on this, just say.  I’ll tell you.”

Steve looked you over, trying to see the lie or the trick.  All he could see was genuine kindness.  He gave a nod.  “Okay.  Will you tell me eventually?”

“Of course,” you said.  “When we’re both sure of how we feel about each other, I’ll tell you.”

The cab pulled up at a block of apartments on the upper west side.  It was a large pre-war building, the kind that has been romanticized in hundreds of films and costs more than most people could dream of earning to live in.

He followed you in and the two of you rode the elevator up to your floor quietly.  The tall ceilings and recessed walls of the hall brought him right back to his childhood.  You let him into your apartment and for a moment Steve felt like he’d stepped into a storybook.  The light was soft and diffused, filling the room with a hazy golden luminescence.  The furniture all looked inviting and cozy, the deep soft-looking couches all had cozy mink throws on them and a collection of fat plush cushions.  There were a few large bookshelves both filled with a mixture of books and board games.  Your TV was large but not obnoxiously so, and your coffee table was littered with candles, magazines, and books.

“Get comfortable,” you said as you headed into the kitchen, leaving him alone in the living room.

Steve took a moment to look around your apartment.  There was something about the room that reminded him of the way he and Bucky decorated.  You had a different taste to either man.  Steve was more into straight lines and dark wood, and Bucky like black and chrome, whereas you seemed to lean more into creams with splashes of color here and there.  However, like with him and Bucky, you had a mix of old and new.  Steve liked to keep things from his past whether they be actual things he had owned or just items that reminded him of his mother or times with Bucky.  The things you owned seemed to go back further than what he owned, but there was a lot that seemed to center around the nineteen-twenties.  Though they didn’t stop there.  There were items representative of various decades littering your apartment.  From depression-glass bowls to porcelain animals from the sixties to a lava lamp and a small collection of Pez Dispensers.

Steve noticed a copy of the Hobbit that looked remarkably like the copy he got when it came out.  Picking up several books he noticed that many were first editions.

He went and sat down more confused about who you were than he had been before.  You came out with a tray and placed it on the coffee table in front of him.  Each was laden with pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and fresh fruit.

“It’s a little late for breakfast,” Steve said, looking at you with his eyebrow raised.

You shrugged.  “I’m good at a few things, but this is the one that’s quickest,” you explained.  “Otherwise we’d be up for a few more hours while I cooked.”

“Breakfast food it is,” he said and started to eat.  You took your plate and sat back, crossing your legs under you and balancing your plate in your lap.  “You have an interesting collection,” Steve said, gesturing to one of your bookshelves.

“Thank you.  I try not to get too sentimental about what I keep and let go,” you said.  “I know it’s a little eclectic but there are some things I just can’t let go of.”

“How long have you lived here?”  Steve asked.

“A long time. Practically forever,” you answered

Steve wanted to ask you what you did for you to be able to afford living here but knew that would meet the same vague answer - so he let it drop and ate.  The food was good.  Warm and sweet and full of fat.  It wasn’t long until Steve began to feel sleepy and content.  You took the plates back away and when you returned to the living room, Steve was practically asleep on the couch.  You came over and gently touched his arm.

“It would be more comfortable in bed,” you whispered.

“I don’t… I never sleep with women on the first date,” he replied, sheepishly trying to fight the drowsiness pulling him down.

“I have a spare room if you want it,” you said gently.   “Though I just mean sleep.”

Steve stood slowly and followed you down the hall.  You opened the spare bedroom.  “This is my guest room.”

“And your bedroom?”  He asked, part of him wondering if you’d drugged him.

“The end of the hall,” you replied, taking a few steps toward it.  He followed you down and as he stripped down to his undershirt you changed into a soft pair of pajamas.

He climbed into the bed with you and you wrapped him in your arms.  As he drifted off to sleep, he thought how strange it was that he felt as comfortable as he did right now.

// NEXT

[wrenhyperfixates]

To Fall in Love

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Loki embraces an autumnal Midgardian tradition to tell you how he really feels. Warnings: major fluff, maybe a bit of angst if you squint A/N: Just some self-indulgent fall fun with everyone’s favorite trickster god! :) P.S. does anyone get the play on words in the title? Titles are not my strong suit, but I’m pretty proud of it 😂

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiantfavs​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​

Disclaimer: Picture not mine. 

The crisp fall air tickled your nose as you reached up to grab the bright red apple hanging from the tree. Even on your tiptoes, it was just a wee bit too high for you to get.

“Loki,” you called to the god at the next tree over. “I need help again.”

“I’m starting to think that you are doing this on purpose,” he replied with a sly grin.

“What? Me? Never.”

That was, of course, a flat out lie. There were plenty of other apples you could reach for yourself, but you enjoyed it when Loki picked you up. Even though the whole team had come on the trip to the apple orchard at Peter’s request, and there were plenty of tall heroes to help you reach, you called upon Loki every time. You loved how his muscles flexed under you as he lifted you with godly strength. With the extra boost from Loki, you were able to wrap your fingers around the apple.

“Ok. All good up here,” you called down to him.

“Are you sure? Perhaps I should just keep holding you and save some time. Unless you were not planning on calling me over again in the next five minutes,” Loki teased, squeezing you tighter.

“Ugh, you’re ridiculous.”

“Oh, yes. I’m the ridiculous one,” he joked with a roll of his eyes, finally putting you down.

“Fine, I’ll just ask Thor next time,” you laughed.

“No,” he whined, pulling you back to his chest. “My little mortal.”

“If you two lovebirds are done being sickeningly adorable,” Tony interrupted, “the rest of us are moving on to the next set of trees.”

You and Loki sheepishly broke apart and told him you’d be along in a few moments. The two of you weren’t dating yet, but there was definitely something there. Late nights spent in each other’s rooms, just talking. Reading sessions on the couch in the common room, your hands distractedly playing with his hair as his head rested in your lap. It was all great, except you still longed for more. At least with these group activities, being out like this with him, you were able to pretend that you were together.

“Hey. Are you ok?” Peter asked as you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just can’t reach.”

In reality, you were feeling a little down, having remembered the complicated situation between you and Loki. Not saying anything was agony, but to make the first move was to risk losing him all together. You didn’t want to ask him for any more help with apple picking because, despite the fact that you enjoyed being with him, it hurt a bit too much right now.

“Don’t worry. I can help with that,” he said, looking around to make sure no one was watching before shooting a web. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Look, kid,” said Tony, ducking under a low-hanging branch. “I know things are frustrating, but you might as well go for it. If I know Reindeer Games, he won’t be letting you go.”

“But you don’t really know him.”

“Point is, you’re a catch, and everyone can see that you two are in love with each other.”

“It’s true,” Peter chimed in. “Even I noticed.”

“Well, love is a strong word, you know,” you sulked, kicking a rock. “But yes, ok. I like Loki. Are you happy now?”

A dull thud made you turn around to see Loki standing behind you, mouth agape, his bag of apples dropped to the ground. You all froze in place, waiting to see what would happen next. Peter and Tony kept looking between you two, expecting something romantic to happen.

“I think I should go,” you mumbled, running off to where Nat and Bucky were a few rows down.

“Wait!” Loki called after you, but it was too late.

“Well great going, Rock of Ages,” Tony admonished. “I had it set up all nice for you and you screwed up big time. Don’t they call you silver-tongue?”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter gasped. “So he fumbled. Happens all the time.”

“No, spiderling. As much as it pains me to admit it, Stark is right,” Loki lamented. “I have messed up and now I must make it up to them.”

“That’s the spirit!” Peter cheered, grabbing Tony in a side hug so he couldn’t get away. “We’ll help in any way we can.”

“Now wait a minute,” Tony protested. “I didn’t agree to-”

“Excellent news,” Loki interjected, cutting him off. “I know just what you can do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mr. Loki! This idea is so cute!” Peter exclaimed, elbow deep in pumpkin guts.

“I am glad you think so. I just hope they like it too.”

“I, for one,” Tony added, overdramatically gagging as he scooped some pumpkin seeds out, “am not a fan.”

“But Mr. Stark,” said Peter. “This is fun.”

Loki tuned out Tony’s next sarcastic quip, which Peter was too optimistic and happy-go-lucky to pick up on. He waved his hand to clean up the mess a bit, nervously peering out the door to make sure you weren’t going to walk in and ruin the surprise. Even though he’d enlisted Thor and Bruce to keep you busy baking apple pies, he was worried you’d see before he could properly ask you out. He knew you loved all things fall and anything that had to do with what you referred to as “spooky season” but was still worried this wouldn’t go exactly as planned.

You hadn’t talked to him since yesterday when he’d fumbled after hearing your confession. He’d tried to say something to you, but you quickly made an excuse and ran off, so he resolved to wait until he could enact his plan.

“Now for the really fun part, spiderling,” he said, brandishing one of his daggers.

“Um, yes. But that’s not usually what we use to- Oh ok, never mind. You’re already going for it.”

Loki cut into the pumpkin, skillfully wielding his chosen tool and carving out the first letter. He beamed proudly as Peter commended his precise work that even earned him a “not bad” from Tony. Once the next four pumpkins were done and set up, the God of Mischief shooed his companions away, after thanking them, of course, and asked them to send for you.

“Loki?” you hesitantly called, walking into the darkened room. You felt around for the light switch, but flipping it did nothing, and you huffed, crossing your arms. “If you’re going to jump out and scare me, it’s not funny. I might punch you if you do, you know. Don’t underestimate me, Laufeyson.”

You walked in a bit farther, still being cautious. Just as your eyes finally adjusted to the dark, a light appeared halfway across the room. Another one lit beside it, then one at a time, three more to the right of it. The now glowing jack-o'-lanterns spelled out “DATE?” much to your surprise. You jumped a little as Loki appeared out of the darkness, and a bunch of other candles around the room suddenly sparked a flame.

“I apologize for not doing this sooner, but I was simply too shocked and afraid. But I am over that now,” he said, presenting you with a bouquet of flowers. “So, my little mortal, what do you say? Will you go on a date with me?”

“Ok, first of all, you don’t have to apologize for anything, Loki. I’ll admit, I was a little hurt, but I did the same as you, really. Second,” you continued, accepting the flowers and smiling widely. “this is incredibly cheesy. But yes. Yes, I would love to go on a date with you.”

You shyly placed a kiss to cheek, causing a deep, crimson blush to spread across his cheeks. He gently squeezed your hand and looked deep into your eyes, love burning in his heart and touch.

“I cannot tell you how happy that makes me, my little mortal.”

Then he pulled you in for a deep, passionate kiss, one that you returned with just as much feeling, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands found your waist. As he held you, he smiled against your lips. It seemed that his plan had worked, after all.

[choco-glow]

Day of the Dead (Robin)

April 27th.

The bed shifted, creaked as Bruce dragged himself up out of the comfort of his way too expensive (and totally worth it) mattress, followed reluctantly by an equally exhausted Selina. He insisted she use the bathroom first, taking that time to rub his face and scalp, forcing himself into an alertness that he didn’t feel…and Bruce ignored his constantly buzzing phone. He could hear Alfred puttering around in his own room down the hall, Damian’s near silent footsteps alongside his dog’s as the youngest Wayne limped down to let Titus out. Tim…Bruce sighed, knowing that Tim one of two places; passed out in the chair in front of the computer down in the cave, or passed out on the couch in the library, his laptop on the floor.

Either way, he was sleeping, most likely, and Bruce was going to take advantage of that.

“Hey.” He glanced up, and the smile on his lips was small, but real; she looked so good leaning against the doorway in nothing but her underwear and one of his old band tees, tousled hair sticking to her forehead from her shower, a sweet smile on her face, those familiar green-blue eyes always so dark in the morning. Bruce dragged himself upright to wrap her up in his arms, hugging her tight, and Selina melted against him, nuzzling his cheek. “Bruce…”

“Thank you for staying…” He murmured, gratitude thick in his voice, and she patted his bicep, popping up on her tiptoes to kiss his nose.

“Of course, sweetheart. Go wash up and get dressed, I’ll head down and help Alfred with breakfast?”

“Selina, you don’t have to…” She shook her head, chuckling, and he chuckled back, ignoring his impulse to just turn away and go brood. Brooding wouldn’t help today…

“I want to. I know what today is…and why it’s so hard.” He ducked his head, swallowing his next word, and she cupped his cheek. “Bruce. I mean it. Jason…” He lifted his head, blue eyes tired but crinkled from a weary smile.

“I miss him.”

“I do too. Go on. We’ll be waiting for you.” He nodded, and after a lingering kiss, despite Cat’s aversion to morning breath, Bruce let her go. The shower was hot enough to wash away some of the pain from his shoulder and upper back, and after washing up, he carefully redressed the bandage on his thigh, then pulled on a pair of old jeans and a tee shirt. It was Saturday, thankfully, so Bruce didn’t have to worry about a suit, and making his way down the stairs, he was glad to see visitors…especially these visitors.

Four years…four years, he’s been gone now. His heart twinged, but Bruce didn’t have to hold up a mask around Dick, who hugged him tight as soon as his first Robin saw him, nor around Barb, who he knelt to hug as well. Steph looked a little lost, a little nervous to be here, and Bruce hugged her too, whispering thanks to her as he’d done to the rest, and if Steph hugged his waist a little harder, her voice a little thick…well, Bruce wasn’t going to tell.

“Father, Alfred the cat is most worried about you.” Bruce paused as he set Steph back on her feet, turning to face Damian, who was holding his purring tuxedo cat and looking concerned…and Bruce couldn’t help the tiny, choked sob, because Damian looked so much like Jason at that age, his whole being focused on “comfort father”.

“So I see. May I hold him?” Damian nodded, and Bruce gently took the cat, smiling as Alfred bumped noses with him and settled on his shoulder, purring deeper still. “Thank you, Damian…”

“This is an auspicious day; we need all the comfort we can receive…” He murmured, and Bruce hugged his youngest tight, tears spilling over now…and Damian hugged him back, clinging to him tight.

“That’s…that’s true…c’mon everyone, we better get into the kitchen before Alfred the butler and Selina yell at us.” He murmured, and Dick chuckled while Barb smiled and took the lead. Damian pulled away from the hug, but not from Bruce, and they walked in hand in hand, taking comfort from one another. Jason’s photo, the last one taken two weeks before he died, was sitting on the counter, as always, with a candle lit…and the new addition of a tin can with the label meticulously soaked off, full of dandelions, and Bruce paused by it, lips twitching up in a fond smile.

“Master Bruce, I hope you don’t mind…I wanted…well…I remember Jason making those bouquets for us when he was a child…” Alfred murmured, and Bruce just pulled him into a hug, tears running hot down his cheeks now.

“I can’t think of a better thing…It’s perfect. Best bunch of flowers that’s ever entered this house.” They all shared a laugh at that, though Selina, Steph, and Damian looked a little confused, and it was Dick who explained, his voice warm and fond as he remembered all the times Jason would prowl the Wayne grounds, plucking dandelions and purple clovers, filling an old coffee can or tin can full to the brim and bringing them back to the house to share, his smile bright and happy.

“…At first, we offered him the flowers from the garden, and Jason just shook his head, looking scared, and said that he got in trouble for pulling those. No one cared about the wildflowers.”

“Oh, what a sweetheart…” Selina breathed, and Bruce and Alfred settled at the table at last, which prompted Dick to pass them the plate of pancakes and motion to fill up.

“He really was…c’mon, let’s eat, best way to remember our boy.”

“Here here! And whatever we do, avoid Buzzfeed today.” Barb raised her OJ in a toast, and Bruce closed his eyes with a sigh.

“God, I hate Buzzfeed…”

“Same here, old man. Same here.”

—-

Six months I’ve been back, and not a Bat to bother me. Jason settled in for a quiet Saturday morning, and ignored cable for a change; he knew what was going to be all over the news today, and he, for one, didn’t want to hear yet another poignant portrayal of his death. At least Bruce wouldn’t be out in public today; he’d learned that from running through the old news stories from the last few years, and frankly, Jason was grateful for it. It…meant that Bruce at least care enough to mourn him. Even if the goddamn Joker is still alive…

He sighed, and pushed away the anger he still felt at that fact, and pulled out his guns, then pulled up YouTube on his TV. He scrolled through his usual recommended list, feeling…restless and a little out of his element; it was the first death day he’d spent back in Gotham, and his normal goofy favorites just…weren’t going to cut it. Then he saw the one video he didn’t expect to see.

Buzzfeed Unsolved: Jason Todd, Wayne or Robin?

A grin split his face.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

—-

“Welcome to Buzzfeed Unsolved. I’m Ryan Bergera, and this is Shane Madej. Today, we are covering the mysterious deaths of two important people in the deadly metropolis that is Gotham City…or are we?”

“Wait, what?”

“Jason Todd Wayne, the adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, and the second Boy Wonder, Robin, both of whom disappeared the same day, April 27th…and have never been heard from again.”

“Ryan, you said it was one murder!”

“And therein lays our mystery, because the more you hear details of the case, the more you wonder if these two boys were really the same person.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh…I smell a conspiracy!”

“Shane, you smell lunch.”

“And a conspiracy! C’mon, out with details, gimme something, Bergera.”

“Hold your freakin’ horses, dude, lemme go over things…” Jason watched with unconcealed delight as he disassembled his pistol, cleaning each part as Ryan laid out the admittedly sparse facts of the case; of course, Jason knew the truth, but he was frankly somewhat impressed with the story that Bruce and Alfred had concocted. Of course, they couldn’t say the Joker beat him to death with a crowbar and blew up a building on him ( and even Bruce couldn’t have guessed that Talia al Ghul had stolen his corpse from the morgue, gave them an equally beaten dead kid to bury, and dumped his ass in the Lazarus Pit). But the story of Jason being killed as a hit out on the Wayne family was all too likely.

Batman had a lot of enemies.

Bruce Wayne had a lot more.

“No one was ever charged for Jason’s murder…here’s the last video of the press conference where Bruce explains things.”

“…Jesus, he’s barely keeping it together…I know he’s a billionaire, but he’s got a lot of heart…poor guy…”

“Yeah…I know we tend to fuck around on this channel, but…this kid died. Pretty badly, from what the evidence shows.”

“Man…so, you said there were theories, right?”

“Yeah, and they only get worse from here.”

“Well, we started the program with a dead kid; can’t get any worse than that.” Jason paused the video and just…stared at Bruce’s face, the tears on his cheeks, his exhausted appearance…and sighed a little.

“Sorry Dad…”

—-

“Theory number one: Dick Grayson killed Jason Todd out of jealousy. It was rumored that the brothers didn't get along and Dick and his father didn't have a good relationship when Jason came to the household.” Jason’s eyes narrowed at that one; whoever thought up that crock of shit had another thing coming. Sure, he and Dick had bickered like brothers, but at the end of the day, Dick was his brother from another mother. Even now, even with everything that had happened…Jason missed those hugs something fierce.

“I mean, that’s a pretty cut and dry one…”

“So it would seem…but if you look at the interviews, there’s nothing in Dick’s demeanor that shows any resentment or anger. And both Jason and Dick were orphaned at early ages and adopted by Bruce, so…”

“Yeah, I dunno. It’s cut and dry, but…at the same time, it doesn’t really make sense.”

“Especially given that Dick every year celebrates Jason’s birthday; I mean, killers can be weird, we know that from the last several seasons, but…I dunno. It doesn’t really fit.”

“Probably some asshole detective looking to close it up.”

“Probably…”

“On to number two!”

—-

“Bruce Wayne killed Jason Todd. This was, actually, the first big conspiracy theory to hit the web. Thankfully, it quickly died when people saw just how devastated Bruce was for months after his death, but apparently there are still some trolls on public forums who accuse Bruce Wayne of killing his son.”

“…That’s utter bullshit. Fuckers.”

“Right there with ya, buddy. Right there with ya. Onto three?”

“Please.”

—-

“Jason isn't dead, because of sightings of a homeless boy who wandered all around Crime Alley and looked exactly like Jason Todd. He was completely battered and bruised and suddenly disappeared after a year in the streets, likely due to a trafficking ring.” Jason raised an eyebrow at that, and turned his AK, Shane and Ryan’s incredulousness a comfort. He wasn’t sure why he was still watching this, but…it was kinda nice. Nice to have people be pissed off for his sake.

“Jesus Christ, Gotham, y’all are so dark.”

“May be why their superhero is Batman, dude.”

“STILL. Could this one have some merit, though, since he was an orphan?”

“This one is one of the strongest theories to date, because Jason was from a place called the Narrows, not far from Crime Alley, and according to Wayne Enterprises official documentation in their family museum, Jason had had issues with drugs and abuse, though to what extent, only the family knows. It’s a pretty ugly idea, but…it’s possible.”

“I think I’d rather be dead, Ryan, than go through that.”

“Same. Same…”

—

“Now. We move onto the disappearance of the second Robin, who vanished the same day that Jason Todd supposedly died. Possible theories of the disappearance of the second boy wonder—”

“Ryan. Ryan. Buddy. Champ. Are you implying, really, that Jason and Robin are the same kid?!”

“I’m just reading the script!”

“You wrote the script!”

“…I may be implying that they’re the same, yes.”

“I KNEW IT.”

“You don’t know shit.” Jason started laughing, and paused to get himself a fresh beer, ordering pizza while he was at it. Alright, this wasn’t so bad after all…

—

“He is hiding. Some say he hid from Batman, and some say Batman is hiding him from others. They don't know what, though. Some even say he quit the job.”

“Alright, I’ll bite, who’s ‘some’.”

“Paparazzi, conspiracy theorists, Alex Jones, etc…”

“Ah yes. The enlightened crowd.”

“Pftt…This is the weakest one, so we’ll go ahead and lay out the second theory while we’re at it. The second Robin died. After Robin stopped appearing with batman for an entire year, the same time Jason Todd died. This used to be a widely spread theory, until people realized maybe talking about the death of a boy in a terrorist attack for a conspiracy theory after his father broke down in public isn't the nicest thing to do.”

“And this is your theory.”

“This…is the strongest one I think, and the one that has the most emotional punch. But let’s be real; if the second Robin was indeed Jason Todd, then his Batman HAS to be Bruce Wayne. And c’mon. We’ve all seen the nightmare surrounding THAT theory.”

“Uh, yeah. No thanks, I do not ever need to write another “But the butts don’t match” article ever again in my life.” Jason snorted at that, cracking up laughing, and when he googled “The Butts don’t match”, he had to pause his boys because the ensuing hyena laugh had him flat on his back for ten minutes, absolutely losing his shit.

“Oh Christ, I love the internet…”

—-

“Next theory. He’s a kid, he took a break from vigilante-ing to do something else.”

“Now see, I like this one; that’s like, the most wholesome version. I hope this is the real one, but…”

“I know, man. I know.”

“Sigh.”

“Sigh.”

—-

“Almost there. Some people believe the second and the third Robin are the same, although many people disagree, considering witness reports that they looked very different, and the Robins were very distinctive in their fighting style and personalities.” Jason snorted at that, shoveling a slice of pizza into his gullet, and even the boys were looking a bit annoyed at that theory, Shane more than Ryan.

“Question.”

“Yes?”

“How the hell do they know about fighting styles?!”

“Gotham City Police.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense now.”

“Also, apparently Commissioner Gordon likes the third Robin more, which tells me they’re definitely not the same.”

“Yeah, if anyone other than Batman would know, he would. What’s next?”

“This one is kinda great, but also a bit outrageous.”

“Ooooh, juicy. Spill the beans, Bergera!”

—-

“Some even believe that the second Robin is now the infamous Red Hood. Gothamites have been known to try to stalk the dude but it's never successful, and supposedly, even the Batfam won’t bother him.”

“I mean, that’s a cool story, but how true is it?”

“Considering the guy wears a red freakin’ helmet with eyeholes and no mouth, who knows how true it is?”

“Still a nicer story than the butts. And hey, Red Hood is pretty chill, man, I think he’s probably the best thing to hit Gotham in years.”

“You’re a Hoodie!”

“The fuck is a ‘Hoodie?”

“Red Hood groupie.”

“Uh, hell no, I just think he’s cool.”

“Uh huh…Well, folks, that ties up our deep dive into the murder of Jason Todd, and the disappearance of the second Robin. To date, this case remains…Unsolved.” As the quiet music that ushered in the ending screen and credits, Jason sat back, working his second slice of pizza, and chuckled a little to himself. If only they knew…well. His people knew who he was; old man Falcone figured it out the second day Jason had been home. The Narrows had welcomed their boy back…And they weren’t gonna tell anyone. They didn’t trust Gothamites, they didn’t trust the Bats…which was why Jason had carved out his place here again, with gunfire and brutal justice. They trusted him.

He turned YouTube over to something mindless, and padded over to the window, feeling the sunshine, weak though it was, break through the clouds and warm his skin. Jason leaned against the familiar brick, and opened the window, letting in a rush of cool air, reminiscent of spring.

It was good to be home.

[thatonedildonamedfrancois]

“This Town” Damianette Songfic

Waking up to kiss you and nobody’s there

Damian reached over to her side of the bed, only to feel nothing but the cold mattress. A pain struck him straight to his chest. He had forgotten once again.

Right.

He missed her. He just couldn’t help himself, even if it was his fault.

He was the one who let her go, he shouldn’t be reaching out for her, but he found himself doing things he shouldn’t be doing quite often ever since she left.

The smell of your perfume still stuck in the air

He groggily got up, having spent another night out drinking. The smell of her favourite perfume hit him, making him wince.

Oh God.

How he wished he could go back to when he’d smell it from the crook of her neck when he hugged her. He still remembered when she first bought it. He was with her, hell, he even picked it out.

It's hard

He got up from his bed with great difficulty. Ever since he let her go, Damian has been stuck in a depressed state. He had trouble doing the easiest of things. Eating, sleeping, laughing. He couldn’t bring himself to do them and if it wasn’t for his family, he wouldn’t.

Yesterday I thought I saw your shadow running round

He was completely off balance ever since he broke things off. He followed a strict schedule. He’d sleep in till the afternoon, wake up, train, go on patrol with his family, go drinking, come back in the early morning and sleep. Rinse and repeat every day since she left.

Yesterday was no different. He’d done the same thing as he did every night, but something was off, he felt in in his gut. As he was heading to the pub, he could’ve sworn that he saw her shadow swinging from the rooftops as she had done countless of times with him, but when he looked up he saw nothing. Not even his brothers that he knew followed him every night. Just the sight of that shadow made him drink even more the night before.

It's funny how things never change in this old town

Even before he knew her, Gotham had been infested by villains. There were so many there that they probably beat the number of rats that were hiding in the sewer system. Damian would actually compare them to those rodents but rats learn from their mistakes.

Now, this place is no different. Criminals practically on every street corner. The only difference is that he had changed and everyone knew it. Nobody, not even Bane, dared to approach him. No one wanted to go near the Ice Prince, not when he had just lost his Princess.

So far from the stars

He remembered when they would lie down on the rooftops and look up to the sky hoping to see the stars. They never did, there was to much light pollution, but they tried and they loved it more than anything. Those quiet moments together are some of the things he misses most.

And I want to tell you everything

God, how he wished he could talk to her. He wanted to tell her about the time Jason tripped over his own foot right before jumping from a rooftop or about the time Tim was complaining about being so tired even though he’s been drinking coffee only to realize that he bought decaf. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her and how he longed to have her in his arms. How he regretted letting her go.

The words I never got to say the first time around

During the entire three years and a half that they dated, Damian never said I love you. Not once. I admire you, sure, but never I love you. She knew it though. He went out of his way to make sure that she did, but he never said it and fucking hell, how he regretted it. He knew that she longed to hear him say those words, just like she did, but he never could. He didn’t try hard enough.

God, he remembers when she said it to him. He felt like he was on cloud nine for weeks after. He had just gotten back from patrol and she was sitting on his sofa, Titus’ head on her lap. Damian knew she was tired yet she stayed up to see him so, before coming back home, he had bought her her favourite cookie box. When he gave it to her while pressing a kiss to her forehead, she looked up at him with the warmest smile in the world and told him she loved him. It had surprised him, obviously, but after she said it, he couldn’t get his hands on her fast enough.

And I remember everything

He remembers that night just like he remembers everything about her: their first meeting, her favourite coffee shop, the time he asked her out, her favourite flower, their first date, her favourite restaurant, their first kiss, her favourite sweet, the time he realized he might love her, their first time.

Everything.

And it played on loop in his head like a broken record player.

From when we were the children playing in this fairground

Hours later, Damian wandered around aimlessly for a while before coming across a park. Once more, the longing he felt came back ten times stronger.

When they first met, they were both ten years old and in this very park. He had just gotten taken in by Bruce and was being forced to socialize and hang out with kids his age. She was on a trip with her parents and got lost. From the moment she bumped into him, they were practically attached to the hip, mostly by force. She forced him to take her email so that he could keep helping her, much to his annoyance. She messaged him so much that when she didn’t, he’d get worried. Slowly but surely, she had grown on him and he wasn’t planning on letting her leave.

But that was a long time ago.

Wish I was there with you now

He wished he could go back to when they first met and slap his younger self, telling him to stay attached to this girl and not be a brat. Telling him that she’s the best thing that ever happened to him and to savour every moment they have together before he ruins things.

If the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you

He remembers her first televised charity event where she auctioned off some of her creations. He had grabbed her by the hand and taken her to the dance floor where he planned to ask her out. He twirled her and dipped her, making sure she laughed since he knew she was stressed about the event and hadn’t taken any time for herself. They’re dancing was caught on tape and the video was trending for a while, even more so when people found out they were dating.

Drive highways and byways to be there with you

Fuck it

He was so done with himself being the overprotective alpha when he knew fully well that she can take care of herself. Hell, she could take him, the entire Batfam and every criminal in Gotham with just a look. Imagine if she was trying.

His dumbass had decided that she was in to much danger with the League and the Joker constantly trying to get him, so he broke up with her. But now, he’s done with that stupid ass decision of his. So he hacked her phone and found out where she is, hopped into a car and drove off to her.

Over and over the only truth

He knew it now. He knew it more than anything. He loved her and he was going to tell her. He had to try to get her back, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t try.

He loved her.

Everything comes back to you

Everything he knew was connected to her. His entire life could be tied back to her. So when he drifted into a parking spot in a bar that he had gone with her after every exam they had, he had already planned what to say to her.

I saw that you moved on with someone new

As he walked in, he saw her. Well, he couldn’t miss her. She lit up every room and had a sort of aura around her that made people look at her. Also, she was dancing on a table.

He stood and watched her until her song ended before making a move towards her, but before he reached her, he saw someone else lend her a hand helping her get down.

In the pub that we met he's got his arms around you

They had come here countless of times together. This was their place. Damian was the one that broke things off, telling her to move on, but he couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Here was this random guy with dyed blue hair holding his princess in his arms in their pub.

Who does this guy think he is? Her boyfri- oh...

Damian stood there looking at them. He saw her laugh and smile as if he didn’t exist. As if they never happened. He knew that he broke things off months back, but it still hurt like hell watching her with this guy. How did she move on so fast while he was still stuck in a depressed state? Then again, she always was good at hiding her real feelings.

Please don't cry. Please don't cry. Please don't cry.

It's so hard

Please don't cry.

He couldn’t look at them anymore and stormed out. He got into his car as his eyes started to blur and drove off as fast as he could. Pain like nothing he’s felt before erupted through his chest.

Dying hurt less than this. Fuck.

So hard

Fucking hell. I'm crying.

He eventually had to pull over since he couldn’t see. His face was soaked with tears and he couldn’t see two feet in front of him. He went out and sat on the hood of his car trying to calm down, but every time he’d close his eyes, he saw her and that wretched blue haired boy.

And I want to tell you everything

He wanted to tell her that he had done a mistake by letting her go. That he finally realized how stupid he was. That she was right, like she always is, and that she can take care of herself. He wanted to tell her that they are a team and can help each other. He should, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it at the moment.

The words I never got to say the first time around

He needed to tell her that he loves her more than he needed to breathe air and with the way he was hyperventilating, it really was a necessity.

And I remember everything

He missed her so much he could practically taste her cooking and smell her favourite candles aroma through the air. He knew his brain was playing tricks on him, but he let himself close his eyes and reminisce back to those moments.

From when we were the children playing in this fairground

He opened his eyes finally being able to see and looked around. On his right, he saw a deserted playground.

Obviously, it’s two in the fucking morning.

To his surprise, he actually saw two kids running around in the playground. The longer he stared the more he realized that they weren’t actually there. He was imagining it. He was able to see through them, but what unnerved him the most was that it was obviously his younger self with the love of his life.

Wish I was there with you now

He stared at the illusion for a while, letting himself remember how those moments felt. He remembered being happy, but he just couldn’t for the life of him remember how that felt now. But he sure as hell is going to get that back.

Right fucking now.

As if the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you

As he drove back to the pub, a plan formed in his head. He knew exactly what he had to do to get back in her good graces and he was going to make sure that he stays there.

Drive highways and byways to be there with you

He was most definitely speeding. If he were to race Flash right now, he wouldn’t win, that’s for sure, but he would surely give him a run for his money. He was easily going fifty over the already high limit of the highway and he was pretty sure that police were going to start coming after him soon. But he didn’t care. Correction, he couldn’t care. He was too preoccupied with his plan to worry about the police. Also he was driving a car that clearly belonged to his father, making it even less likely that the police would even bother to stop him.

Over and over the only truth

God, he loved her. He truly needed her in his life otherwise he’d be lost. He didn’t care how dependent that sounded because he knew that it was true.

She was his soulmate.

Everything comes back to you

As he drifted in a spot for the second time that night, he knew that he couldn’t walk out again without talking to her this time. His brothers would surely make fun of him for it.

You still make me nervous when you walk in the room

Damian stormed into the pub, more determined than he was for anything in his life. He spotted her once more. She was still standing next to the blue haired man. Just at the sight of him, he felt his heart clench. He wasn’t going to back down, even if she had someone new in her life. He had to tell her how he felt.

It’s now or never.

Them butterflies they come alive when I'm next to you

As he approached her, he felt butterflies in his stomach. Hell, he felt the whole damn zoo. God, he was nervous.

He gently tapped her shoulder and waited for her to turn towards him. At the sight of him, her eyes widened in shock.

“Can I please talk to you? Maybe somewhere more quiet?” he forced out.

She stared at him for what felt like an eternity before she nodded slowly and let him lead her outside.

Over and over the only truth

Everything comes back to you

And I know that it's wrong

That I can't move on

But there's something about you

Okay, tell her now. You may not have another chance.

“Okay, I’m going to start from the main reason as to why I’m here. I love you. So much. So much so that I swear to god that I have trouble breathing when I think about the depth of my love for you. And, god, I was such an idiot for not telling you when you deserve to be with someone who would shout it from the rooftops.

I know that idiot could’ve been me, but that’s another reason as to why I’m here. I miss you. I miss having you in my arms and waking up to you next to me. I miss going out on missions and kicking ass together and telling you everything and just being with you. I miss you.

Look, I came here earlier and I saw you with that blue haired guy in there and how you were laughing the same way you used to laugh with me. Which makes me believe that you’ve probably moved on, but I need to tell you that I haven’t been able to even look at another woman. I can’t try to be with someone else when I had been with you. You are the one who I’d be willing to change everything for. You are the one. I don’t know how else to put it into words other than this. You’re my soulmate.

I didn’t come here expecting you to suddenly run back into my arms, but I just wanted to tell you.”

If the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you

By the end of his monologue, they had attracted all the eyes of those in the pub and those in the parking lot. He hadn’t realized that he raised his voice. He felt them scrutinizing him but he couldn’t care less, not when she still hasn’t said something.

She just stood there looking at him silently, taking his words in. She approached him slowly still staring at him. As she cupped his face gently, she whispered to him:

“All I’ve ever wanted was for you to open up to me. I love you too, Damian.”

They both leaned forward, meeting halfway, which caused the cheers of those around them.

Damian had longed for this kiss for months and now that he finally had it, he wasn’t going to let it be short. He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled against her lips.

Everything comes back to you

Everything comes back to you

He drove her back to his, no their house. As they crossed the threshold of the house he turned back to her and smiled. It was only as he kissed her for the second time that night did he realize that they have an audience.

His family stood in front of them all of them wearing smiles on their faces. Alfred spoke first, quickly followed by the cacophony of the rest of the bat-fam.

“Welcome back, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Should I prepare the ingredients for tomorrow morning’s breakfast? Will it be another Marinette special?”

So what do you think? I’ve been working on this since december and I’m finally happy enough with it.

@2sunchild2

... idk who else to tag

[awkwardbluefish]

Moments Captured in Time

Bruce was tired. Exhausted really.

Despite the burning behind his eyes and the damp drapes of curtains that were his eyelids he continued to work, continued to gaze at the luminescent blue screen before him. It was quiet in the cave, yet the migraine continued to pulse behind his eyes and tighten in their sockets. Some would argue Bruce wasn’t really working, they’d be right in a way. Technically he was working, but the only reason why was in avoidance of something he did not want to go through.

Sleep. He was avoiding going to sleep. Because Bruce knew when he let the curtains fall and the false peacefulness usually bought by darkness then the nightmares would kick in. The memories would burn, flickering in his head like a burning candle despite how desperately he tried to make it to stop. He didn’t want to remember that night. He didn’t want to remember the boy he had failed, the boy he told himself he would protect. He didn’t want to remember the night he had failed his own son, just because he wasn’t fast enough, because he wasn’t clever enough.

For a second, he closes his eyes, let his shoulders sag. The memories begin like a broken record and his heart burns because he knows he was too slow. His heart thumps in the cage he calls his ribs as the visualising begins. There was nothing left that night, nothing left besides a broken boy. There was nothing there of that building but ash and smoking debris. His chest aches because he remembers there was no pulse but checking anyway. He remembers broken ribs shattering under his palms as he pumped, desperate for a single breath. Desperate for five more minutes with his Robin, his son. It hadn’t have worked, his boy remained dead. He stayed a corpse, a life snuffed out far too soon by a psychopath. He was gone.

“Bruce,” the voice forces his eyes to peel a part, cracking them open to see a darkened screen. A sigh escapes his lips as he rolls his shoulders, hearing the bones crack and groan like a hollowed-out house with only the abandoned ghosts left in those walls.

“I’m working Alfred.” His voice is rough, low, as if it’s been through a grinder and barley made it out. He’s not working, a plain as day lie. Alfred doesn’t say anything to that, staying silent.

Bruce forgets sometimes that he isn’t the only one who lost Jason that night. He’s not the only one mourning the boy’s loud absence. He brows wrinkle but no words escape chapped lips. He won’t apologise. Cant. He’s the reason Jason’s gone. He doesn’t deserve to cry, to mourn, when it’s his fault.

“I see.” His father murmurs, and the sadness behind his words slice at his heart, leaving a gaping wound that bleeds sluggishly. Bruce stares at the dark screen as Alfred sighs and in the reflection of a crystal-clear screen he can see the sagged shoulders, the weary tilt of the brow. Out of all of that he zeroes in and the thin envelope cradled in his fingers. Bruce doesn’t ask but Alfred answers. “Master Timothy gave this to me. He noticed you were upset and believed you would enjoy this.”

The envelope lays on the keyboards. Bruce doesn’t reach for it, lowering his head as he thought of the small and brilliant boy. The boy who wiggled his way into his life, made himself such a home that Bruce couldn’t even bare to imagine forcing him out off. He’s failed Tim. Not like he’s failed Jason, god forbid, but he hasn’t been kind to the boy as of late. He’s snapped at Tim, the ocean eyed boy who gazed upon Bruce with such awe he never quite knew what to make off it. He’s taken his grief out on him, the kid that absolutely adored him. That loved him.

“He’s a good kid.” Alfred says. He doesn’t stay after that. But the words echo in Bruce’s head. He knows the words left unsaid. Don’t lose him too. Don’t push him away like you’ve done with Dick.

Eventually Bruce reaches out, lifting the envelope into dried up and broken skinned fingers. Carefully, gently, he opens the letter, watching as paper breaks as it clings to glue. Carefully he pulls the slim piece of something out of the paper cage, breath catching and throat clamping tight as the picture shimmers in the dim lights of the cave.

It was Jason. It was Jason, in his bright costume, alive and happy. It was Jason laughing, his wiry and far too thin arms wrapped tightly around his stomach, doubled over and Bruce can hear his laughter, loud and booming echoing in his ears. Its Jason, laughing at Bruce. Bruce, dressed up as Batman, egg yolk slipping down his cowl. The lighting of the alley shadows his features but Bruce knows he’s smiling because he knows this moment, remembers this moment. It had been nearing Easter, and Dick had created a competition that night to see who could egg Batman the most. Jason had caught him by surprise and Bruce remembers, despite the slimy yolk sliding down his back, cold and thick, he had been so proud of this boy for the surprise attack.

Tim. He had taken this photograph.

Bruce licks his lips, ribs caging in his heart tight. His heart is warm, blood bubbling in his veins. A small laugh breaks free from his lips, his eyes crinkling and heart clenching. He cradles the picture, a moment frozen in time and he smiles, pretending there wasn’t tears clogging up his eyes. A hand cradles his lips and he ducks his head, caving in on himself. In this picture Jason was alive. In this picture Jason was happy. In reality he was neither.

Swallowing down the tears he blinks his eyes, revelling in the fact it was just a tad easier this time despite the tears dampening the curtains even more. He shakes his head, unwashed bangs tickling his forehead. Body aching, heart hammering he forces himself to his feet, photograph clutched gently in his hands. The walls that usually held him up, made him strong, made him invincible, made him Batman, collapse in a pile of debris. Moment by moment, they fall. Salty drops fall down his chin, drenching a grey, sweat damp shirt.

Steadying himself he presses his palms to the black leather chair, focusing on breathing. Vaguely he realises he’s trembling. There was a rawness to it, like the pain was still an open wound, all of this forced out of him by a picture. The sobs were stifled at first as he attempts to hide the grief from the world, from himself, then, overcome with the wave of emotions he just breaks. All the defences he built up those upcoming weeks wash away by salt tasting tears. It was pathetic, the picture he was painting, one of grief, loss and broken devastation.

He had to pull it together. He had to see Tim. He needed to know if there were more, he needs to see these moments frozen in time. He needed to see Jason alive, even if it was just through a picture. He inhales sharply, unfolding himself from the curved form over the chair, picking up the debris of his walls and building them up all over again. The shutters come down; his emotion being walled off behind a mask of coping. He’d wear it around Tim, he had too. He just had to keep it up a little bit more.

Slowly he focuses, roughly scraping his balled-up fist against his cheeks, ridding away the evidence of his loss. Tim took this photograph. Could he have more?

He finds the boy resting on the couch. His face is scrunched up, eyes screwed up, creating wrinkles as he bites at his lips between his mutterings. He’s sitting there, mouth moving a mile a minute as he shifts through contents in an old shoe box. Bruce can’t make out the words, he never could when Tim murmurs like that, voice trying to catch up with his mind. He never minded it though, knowing this was how Tim sorted through his thoughts. He never does it during a stakeout, fingers always taking over and tapping along his knees and up his thighs so Bruce never had a reason to complain.

“You’ll draw blood,” Bruce’s voice echoes in the room. His voice is thick, deep and absolutely wrecked with grief. He swallows, tries to force a smile to his lips when the startled boy jumps, much like a startled cat. It falls short, watching Tim’s eyes fill in panic as he zeros in on the picture still clutched like a prized possession withing Bruce’s fingers.

Tim opens his mouth and Bruce can see the impending apologies about to spew from his lips, so, he steps forward. His lips clamp shut, tight as a clam and Bruce fiddles with the white edged border around the delicate photograph. God forbid, he was scared. He shakes his head and he knows he looks absolutely terrible and wrecked and he knows Tim can see it and he knows he thinks he’s done something wrong. But he hasn’t. Tim has done something absolutely perfect.

“Do you have more?” He asks and his chest burns but it’s nothing compared to his throat, coals stuck in the back of it.

Tim gazes at him, analysing. Then he nods, small and soft. His small, frail body shuffles over, cradling the shoe box tight to his chest. When Bruce doesn’t move, too scared too, he pats the cream cushion next to him, not meeting his gaze as he stares into the box with acute determination.

The weight shifts when he sits down and a small smile twitches at his lips when Tim’s raised along with the pillow. The boy isn’t bothered, smiling his small triumph when he finds whatever it is, he’s looking for. Carefully he pulls it out and holds it to his chest, eyes flickering to Bruce’s desperate expressions and nodding. He licks his lips, holds out the photograph at arms length.

Bruce nearly snatches at it, afraid that it would disappear into thin air. Despite the urge he’s slow, fingers twitching hesitantly a second away before Tim gently, forcefully, passes it to Bruce. His gaze flickers to the other picture, lips twitching by the way Bruce crinkles the edges with his grip. He makes no move to take it away and Bruce is grateful, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give Jason away again.

It takes a while for him to look at it, watching Tim give an encouraging nod at him that contrasts with the terror hidden behind those ocean orbs. He was scared he was doing something wrong, that he’d just hurt Bruce more. He could see the hidden worries behind those eyes. He was scared Bruce wouldn’t like it and Bruce could not stand that look on his childs’ face. He smiles, numb as it is, and trails his own blue piercing eyes to the photograph lying on his palm.

His eyes rake over the picture, devouring all the little details in a second. Despite that all he truly makes out is Jason, his boy alive and happy. There’s a huge grin on his face, mouth full of glimmering teeth. The domino covers his eyes but Bruce is brought to tears at the mere thought of how bright they are, how bright they were.

Any resolve crumbles and the pictures tumble out of his hands. He reaches out, desperate to cling to reality. His arms cradle around the boys’ shoulders, bringing him to his chest with a yelp muffled into his shoulder blade. Limbs are everywhere, bones digging into his thighs, arms and chest. A nose is pressed deep into his breast but it was nothing but good. The tears begin sliding down his cheeks again and Bruce was always and ugly crier but at this moment he couldn’t care less. Gently he cuddles the boy to him, burying his face into coconut scented locks, swallowing thickly, coals burning in his throat and his chest as he cries. He makes no sound, chest heaving and he feels oh so small hands weaving themselves around his back. His boy hugs him back, hesitant and nervous and Bruce brings him closer, having half the mind to place the brown shoe box digging into their waists on the crystal coffee table.

“Thank you,” he murmurs and the boy he manhandled onto his lap stiffens in surprise and if that doesn’t hurt Bruce than he has no idea what will. “Thank you, Tim, these are brilliant. Thank you for showing me.” He whispers, like it’s a secret only Tim is allowed to hear. The boy slackens in his hold, slowly and then he’s digging his cold nose into his shoulder blade and Bruce is laughing, tears streaming down his cheeks, eyes staining red the more the tears willingly spill.

“You can keep them,” Tim murmurs into his chest. Bruce’s voice is too wrecked, too broken to even speak. He swallows around the coals logged in his throat and manages to hum. Tim hums back and Bruce chuckles wetly, hearing Dick whisper in his ear about Tim being a Bruce translator.

“I’m so proud of you,” his words crack as tears begin to dry and crust on his cheeks and stubbled chin. Tim hums again, seemingly content with the silence. “I knew you knew our secret. But taking pictures of us? Absolutely brilliant, little ninja. You’ve done good. So good.”

Bruce says nothing after that, not when the arms tighten almost painfully around his waist, not even when his shirt dampens. He doesn’t tell Tim this is the first time he’s willingly cried in front of anyone without resistance. He doesn’t say this is the first time he’s laughed, smiled on the day of Jason’s death. He doesn’t tell Tim he’s the only reason why Bruce is keeping together. He doesn’t tell Tim he’s the glue keeping this small and broken family together. What he does tell Tim, is that he loves him.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Intruder (It’s The Avengers)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

ONE SHOT

Warnings: mention of ghosts and intruders. No Ghosts were harmed in the making of this fic though I’m pretty sure the ones in my room were shocked at this piece of fic. I can feel them scrunching their nose at me right now.

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

One Shot: You are alone at home and hear a noise...

Almost forgot to mention the reason for this one-shot. (Belated) Happy birthday @nygmobblepot-trash

Word Count: I cannot believe myself and my desk. All this time its been holding stuff when it could have been helping me write stories like throwing cash money at respected strippers in the da club. Yup, my readers are those lovely strippers and their comments and love are their services for me. Does this make sense?

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

Somewhere in the dark, a pair of eyes watched you reading some book in the library, sitting under that one bulb illuminating the desk where you sat alone, lost in those yellow pages. Your one hand kept over the book while the other rested on your face, your little finger playing along your lips.

Click.

A sound came from some unknown source. You inhaled a lungful, never blinking away.

Click-click.

You blinked and looked up, turning to see outside the door of the library. Nothing but darkness said hello back. Not thinking much about it you went back to the book, taking your little finger under your teeth and leaning back in the chair on an angle.

Click.

Click-click.

This time your ears were sharp, your head tilting quickly in the direction of the sound. Straining your auditory nerves, you kept looking in the direction of the door for a good while.

Click-click.

That's it. I'm checking it out.

Old experiences and a lot of late-night crime and horror documentaries had taught you to be discreet when it came to weird noises of the night. But what you figured out yourself was that a book would not be the most suitable weapon against whatever was lurking out there. So, picking up Rhodey's trophy kept in the showcases of all the awards collected by the Avengers over time, you pushed your slippers over to the carpeted floor while slowly moving out of the warm space.

The clicking sound now echoed through the compound. So did the sound of ducks quacking in the pond outside; quite possibly at the stray cat that you'd brought home once and tried to hide from Tony. Ultimately you had to leave it outside when it scratched Vision for turning off his body heat because little Mew Mew didn't want to get up from his lap. In Vision’s defence, he’d lost a bet against Pietro and had been dared to that.

The fact that everyone else was out of town was not helping with every little tinker of noise you were hearing or your mind was making up.

Friday. I still have Friday. She'd take care of me if there was an intruder, right?

You wanted to ask her so bad. But the fear giving away your location in the dark was too much of a risk right now.

Maybe it's a mouse.

Click click click.

Yeah, it's just a mouse looking for some chee-

A cold chuckle came from the lounge along with a faint glow, freezing you in the open corridor that led to Bruce and Tony's lab. A crack of lightning lit up everything around you before the thunder rumbled, sending jolts to your already weak heart that saw a figure pass lounge- from the kitchenette towards the dorms- with a candle in its hands.

Had you not forcefully been made to exercise to strengthen your muscles you could've sworn you might have peed right there out of sheer fright.

There's someone out there. THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE FREAKING LOUNGE!!! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! OH MY GAAAHHHDD!! SHIT SHIT SHIT SH- Wait. If there was an intruder Friday would have warned me right? But she didn't say anything. *Gasp* Did they-did they kill Friday?!

Queue lightning and thunder!

Oh my G-no no no I'm sure Friday's alright. Oh God oh God oh God oh God! Okay okay okay breathe. Yes, breeeeeathe. Good. Good. Now, if it wasn't an intruder and Friday is okay does that mean it's a ghost?

Just when all those thoughts were running inside your head like a freight train, a figure in the shadows lingered behind you, getting closer by the second at an incredibly slow pace.

Oh FUCK WE HAVE A GHOST IN THE COMPOUND!

The figure in the dark behind you was nearly over your shoulder when you felt your hair rise in anticipation of the presence behind you. And like any bad horror movie, your reflex worked to turn you around with the trophy pointed outwards at...nothing.

N-no one's there. Okay, I'm clearly creeping myself out. What if...w-what if it's a friendly ghost. What if it's a Casper? I'm sure we can check that out, right? You asked your inner voice.

Do you want to die? 'Cause that's exactly how you die, came the reply.

Oh, come on! We can't possibly hide from a ghost anyways. And I'm sure Mr Stark has equipped the compound with something against ghosts. Hopefully.

Your inner voice chuckled.

What is he? A daddy of fourteen kids?

...dude.

Yeah, I know the answer to that question. My bad, she shrugged.

A door creaked somewhere in the dorms, bringing you back to reality.

Maybe we should check it out, your inner voice suggested, making you question its sanity.

Aren't you supposed to protect me against danger?

Ay, she sharply pointed at you, I'm also supposed to satiate your curiosity. So, this time the cat might just, I don't know, die.

Wow, you are a nasty one, you implied at your inner voice.

It's ookay, she cooed, you can call me a whiney whore. We both know who is the only one working whenever we see someone that bedazzles you.

Snorting at her, you made your way towards the lounge.

Friday isn't even lighting up the corridors.

The distant roar of thunder was unsettling and the patter of raindrops over the glass part of the roofs and walls did not help when you strained your ears for the slightest of discord.

From the edge of the doorway, the kitchenette seemed empty under that faint blue hue of lights under the slabs that lit up for the nightcrawlers looking for water in the wee hours of the night or early mornings. Many times a couple of them have scared each other for looking like ghosts under that dull blue glow.

The sofas were vacant as well, painted in colours being thrown in their direction from the big screen that you very well remember turning off the moment Steve had dragged a very reluctant Scott and Bucky out and not letting them watch the last fifteen minutes of The Witcher finale.

Maybe I didn't turn it off.

Maybe the ghost likes Geralt of Rivia, your inner voice called out. Or Yennefer, if they're adventurous.

Thump!

You jumped where you stood, the grip on that trophy tight. The noise had come from the dorms followed by a low grunt.

Casper doesn't grunt like an a-an angry demon.

The sweat collecting on your back was now making a trail down your spine, adding a chill when the cold wind brushed itself against you, coming from a door left unlocked or a window left open.

You know what, you breathed in, fuck this. If this is how I die, I'll at least be haunting my own family.

You started walking silently in the lounge, turning to walk towards the dorms where light filtered out through a partially opened door.

What if it's not a ghost, your inner voice tilted her metaphorical head in innocence, what if it's an intruder. A man at that.

You stopped five feet short of that door, everything going blank at the worst words your insides could've have spoken.

I...should hide then. Right?

You were about to turn around when you heard muffled footsteps come from the end of the corridor and the doorknob to Scott's door suddenly twist to be opened with a ghastly creak.

Cursing in a muted rhythm, you dashed inside the very room you were trying to avoid- which was your own.

Two huge strides and you were skidding on the other side of the bed, clearly missing the candles kept on a table right in the centre of your room. Wait what, your adrenaline-induced brain shot itself out to bring back the frames you missed.

Before the ten thousand four hundred and seventy-one theories could take a better form inside your head, the door to your room let out a groan, stopping your heart.

You laid yourself on your stomach to be as much out of the view of the intruder as you could.

The door clicked close. Footsteps walked away from it towards the centre. A sigh followed.

It is an intruder.

Your veins wanted to freeze over. Your heart was already shouting 'NOPE' and your inside wanted to come out.

A ruffle made you slide a little to peek from the corner of the bedside. A figure stood with its back to you in a black trenchcoat, unbuttoning the fabric tortured by the rain.

He's distracted, your inner voice shouted from your shoulder, now's our chance.

On your knees, you stepped out, positioning yourself low right behind him.

Gloved hands brought the cap of the trenchcoat down before going for the shoulder shrug to remove it.

Now!

Raising your weapon of choice over your head, you aimed for the loose strands of raven hair that suddenly were turning away to bring forth green eyes watching you in horror as cold pale hands blocked your attack- but not your rage-filled shriek- and forced you halfway over the bed.

"What in the hell are you doing?"

Loki's hands still held you down, his wet strands gracing your fear-burned cheeks with water droplets.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! You are supposed to be out on a mission with the rest right now?!"

Your voice shook but the anger you were feeling could be seen in your eyes by the God.

"Leave that," Loki commanded, pointing to the trophy still in your hands.

"No!" you spat back. You couldn't. The shock had frozen your hold.

"I said leave it."

"No!!"

"Were you really going to use it on me?"

"Of course I was going to use it on you!" you scoffed and raised the fiery embers just a smidge in your tone. "I was going for the spot and wanted to make sure you were shivering on your knees when I was done."

"Oh my God," a tired voice came from outside your door, making you both dilute the confusion and fire to look in that direction.

"I go out for five minutes to find ribbons and flowers and this is what I get back to. Give me a fucking break!"

You furrowed your brows at the door.

"Is...is that-"

"Yeah," Loki answered, never taking his eyes off the door, which clicked open with an annoyed Clint entering the space.

"Why do you guys have to talk like that during normal stuff," he mumbled, closing the door, "do you know how many times you've given me a heart atta-"

He stopped short. His eyes absorbing you lying halfway on the bed with Loki over you, his hands wrapped around yours, keeping your arms over your head while his legs locked yours in place. What was worse for the man was you looking at him with suspicion.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"

"She tried to blow me."

Clint's eyes went three times wider, his jaw on the verge of falling.

"You were supposed to be out! I thought you were an intruder, you idiot!!"

Clint's hand came up as a sign to apply the breaks at this entire conversation.

"You thought he was an intr-oh ohh OH!!! Okay." He finally breathed, trying to feel his heart by placing his hand on his chest. "It's okay. It's okay."

"Now, am I an intruder?" He asked you, his eyes going soft, his hold loose.

"...no," you replied softly, letting go of the hold on the trophy.

Placing his knee on the edge of the bed, he pushed himself up, bringing you with him by your hand.

"Why didn't you guys tell me you were here? I nearly shat my pants!"

Loki and Clint exchanged a look, clearly hurting you for not knowing what was going on.

Clint sighed, lowering his head.

"Well, you weren't supposed to know till the next-" Loki looked down at the watch on his wrist- "twenty minutes. We were supposed to take you somewhere."

"Where? And why?"

Loki stepped aside to show you a small mountain of gift-wrapped boxes kept on the table in the middle with a balloon tied to the one at the top- the floating green thing spelling out a very obvious greeting.

Loki smiled at the unadulterated shock rushing over your face as your eyes grew wide and a muted gasp left your parted lips.

"Happy birthday."

[thebluenebula]

So todays my birthday so I figured I'd write a birthday fic for Ashleigh. I really enjoyed writing this. This take place about three to six months after she arrived, so she is much more comfortable around the Batfam.

Masterlist

The Day After (Coming Soon)

Birthday

I sat at the breakfast table, reading todays paper. I never really read them. I just skimmed through them until some picture or crazy headline caught my eye. Bruce sat across from me.

"So." He loudly said.

I looked up from the paper. "So?"

"Sunday."

"What about Sunday?"

"It's your birthday."

"Oh." I was genuinely shocked. It didn't feel like a year had passed. I guess when a lot happens, you don't notice the time go by.

"I was just wondering what you wanted to do for it?"

"I don't really want to do anything." I explained.

"Really?"

"Yup."

"No party?"

"Yep."

"You're only eighteen once Ashleigh."

"And I'm quite content not to celebrate it."

"Alright." Bruce looked a little disappointed. "How about a gift, what kinda gift do you want?"

"Gift." I looked at Bruce with genuine shock. "Bruce you've literally given me everything I could have ever needed in the last six months."

He grinned. "Thats my job."

"I dont need anything else."

"I know you don't need anything, but so you WANT anything?"

"How about my own house?" I joked.

"If you want one." Bruce replied, deadly serious.

"No." I quickly responded. "I'm not going to get kicked out am I?"

"Of course not."

I sighed with relief. I may be about to be eighteen but I'm in no way prepared to be on my own.

"If I was going to kick out any of my kids, don't you think Dick and Jason would already be gone."

"What's this about me getting kicked out?" Jay asked as he walked in.

"Don't worry Jay, I'm not kicking you out. Yet." Bruce assured him. "Just making a point."

"Wait," Jay leaned against the table. "I understand why your using me as an example, but why would you want to kick out Dick?"

Bruce shivered. "I have heard him say things I never wanted to hear any of my kids say."

"God." Jay yelled and slammed his head into his hands. "I'd repressed that memory."

"What happened?" I cautiously asked.

"Well there was this one time Dick and Wally were fu-" Jay began to explain.

Bruce elbowed him. "She does not need to know. No one needs to know."

I looked at the two curiously. I wonder what Dick and Wally got up to.

That night before I lay into bed, I looked at the photograph on my locker. Siobhan, Sean, and I. We all looked so happy. It felt odd, this would be the first year I'd have a birthday without Sean, and the first in years without Siobhan. I grabbed the photo and lay into bed.

That Friday I was lying on my floor, texting Cassie. "Artemis seems crazy."

"She can be, thats why her and Jay get on so well. So it's your birthday Sunday. 🎉🎉🎉" She text me.

For a moment I wondered how she knew, then I remembered that it was on my Pixtagram account. "Yup."

"You doing anything for it?"

"Not a thing."

"No party?"

I wish. "Not much of a party person."

"Dick or Steph will through you one regardless."

"Bruce made Dick promise not to and I don't think Steph even knows."

"Wait you didnt tell them its your birthday?"

"Nope. Only Bruce, Alfred, and Kate knows and I'd  rather keep it that way."

"Okay, mind if I come around tommorow? We can just hang out or something to not celebrate you're birthday."

I giggled. "That'd be awesome."

"How's 12 sound?"

I yawned. "That'd be awesome. If it's alright, I'm going to go to bed."

"Goodnight Ashleigh. I'll text you in the morning."

"Night."

I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Cassie text me the next morning and we confirmed are meet up. A little after one Cassie arrived. We got to togetehr with a couple of the other kids and played video games and chatted for hours. Cassie had to leave in a bit so the two of us headed up to my room.

I sat down on my swivel chair and Cassie plopped onto the bed. "So any idea what Bruce is getting you for your birthday?"

"Nothing, I think."

"Nothing?"

"Well he asked me what I wanted but I couldn't think of anything else I could want"

"Maybe you could ask for a car and give it to me." She joked.

"You can fly though."

"It would be a tad questionable if I FLEW to school."

"Point taken."

"Speaking of gifts," Cassie pulled a wrapped box out of her bag. "Since I won't see you tomorrow."

"Cassie you didn't have to."

"I wanted to."

I took the box from her. "Thank you. Do I open it now?"

"I'd prefer if you did." Cassie said. "You can't imagine the amount of thought you have to put into getting a gift for the child of a billionaire."

"I'm not picky." I explained, then pulled off the wrapping paper. A photo frame. A blue frame surrounded by little clouds and bats. "Cassie, its adorable."

She smiled. "The clouds were already there but i stuck the bats on cause... you know."

"Yeah, I know." I smiled. "I love it."

"Well I seen that you had that photo by your bedside and thought you might use this frame for another. Maybe you could put like a picture of everyone in in it or something.

"I don't have a picture of everyone in the house together. That'd be nice."

"That's it!" She exclaimed.

I jumped. "That's what?"

"Your birthday gift. Ask Bruce for a picture of you all together."

"I'd love that but I'd have to blow on a hell of a lot of candles for that wish to come through."

Cassie laugh was interupted by a ding from her phone. She checked the phone. "Diana's outside, I've got to go."

"I'll walk you out."

We headed down to the entrance. Cassie opened the door and prepared to leave. "I guess I'll see you again Ashleigh." She said as she stepped out the door.

"Cassie."

She stopped and turned. "Yes?"

"If you aren't busy tommorow... maybe you like to come around."

She smiled. "I'd love to."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'll remember to bring those extra candles for the wish."

I laughed. "I'll need them."

"I won't forget." She promised. "I'll see you tommorow then."

"One other thing, when is your birthday?"

"Why?"

"So I can remember to get you that car."

She giggled and walked down the steps. I wonder if Bruce would actually let me buy her a car.

I got up early the next day and to my delight. No big deal seemed to be made of my birthday. Dick, Bruce, and Alfred wished me a Happy Birthday but that was it. Everyone else seemed clueless to it.

Around eleven Cassie arrived and her, Carrie, Harper, and I ended up in the den playing video games again.

About one Bruce dragged me out of the den. "What's up?" I asked him.

"Someones here to see you."

"Who?" I asked as we stepped out into the hall.

"Hey Ashleigh." Kate stood just inside the door. Arms open.

"Kate!" I hugged her. "I didn't know you were coming today."

"Thought I'd surprise you, considering it's your birthday." She ruffled my hair. "Happy Birthday, by the way."

"Thank you." I smiled. "How'd you know?"

"I always know."

"Bruce told you?"

She nodded. "Bruce told me."

"I felt it was necessary." Bruce added.

Kate held a box. "A little something."

"Thanks but you didn't have to."

"I know, Bruce said that. Which is why I distinctively ignored it."

Bruce scoffed. "I shouldn't be surprised."

Kate looked to Bruce then back to me. "I'll hold on to it for a little while."

"Sure." I looked to Bruce skeptically.

"Follow me." He said.

I followed Kate and Bruce towards the Dining room. "Where are we going?"

"I just want to say, that this was primarily Dicks idea." Bruce said.

Oh no. I already knew what this is. I put on a smile as we walked through the doors into the dining room. It was decorated to the nines with birthday banners and other colorful decorations. Sometimes I hate Dicks insistent to go over the top with everything.

"Happy Birthday!" Everyone yelled as I entered. I smiled at the large gathering of people. To say I was uncomfortable was an understatement. But just for a second. Before, when I had parties, it fwlt like a lot of the smiling faces were just that, smiling face, no genuine emotion behind them but not this time. This time the smiles held happiness, love. I could feel it

All the nervousness I should feel, melted away. I don't know of it was Kate's hand on my shoulder or the smiles of my family and Cassie.

I was quickly tugged to the table by Steph. In front of me sat a large chocolate cake. On it, there had to be about fifty candles. "I told you I wouldn't forget." Cassie smiled.

"Come on!" Dick shouted excitedly.

"Can't we just skip that part?" Jay moaned.

Dick ignored Jay's remark and burst into song. "Happy birthday to you!"

Dick was quickly joined by the others, even Jay mumblwd along. After the song was over, I blew out my candles. Downside of so many candles, took quite a few blows.

"So what'd you wish for?" Steph asked.

"She can't tell you, that ruins the wish." Dick said.

"I didn't wish for anything." I said. "I have everything I could ever need."

Damien scoffed. "Corny. You sound like Grayson."

Cassie nudged me. "Do it."

"Fine." I sighed. "I did wish for something."

"Anything." Bruce said.

"I wish for... a photo. Of all of us. Together."

"That's all?"

"That's all."

"That's doable." Bruce turned to the kids. Jay and Damien in particular. "Isn't it."

Jay sighed. "Just this once."

Damien scoffed. ""Yes, as Todd said."

"I shall get the camera." Alfred stated.

"No need I have one here." Steph said, handing a camera to Alfred. "I have been capturing every moment of this."

"At this point, I'm surprised you don't take pictures of us sleeping." Tim remarked.

"Maybe I do."

"I'm double checking the locks in my door tonight." Duke commented.

"I'll always find another way in."

"You are the creepiest blonde I've ever met." Jay said. "And thats not a low bar."

"But you love me for it."

Jay sighed. I turned to Alfred. "You're  not going to be in the photo?" I asked.

"Someone must take the photo."

"I can take it Alfie." Cassie said.

"I will allow you to take this photo, Miss Sandsmark, on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Never refer to me as Alfie ever again."

"Fiiine." Cassie snagged the camera. "Now go join them."

"Okay," Bruce said. "Tallest to the back."

Dick, Kate, Bruce, Alfred, and Jay stood at the back in that order. Damien, Babs, me, Harper, Carrie, Duke, Steph, and Cass stood in front.

Dick picked up Damien. "Let me go Grayson!"

"Chill out." Dick said as he placed Damien on his shoulders. "Don't want you cut out of the photo.

"This will suffice." Damien huffed, pretending to be upset.

Steph turned to Cass. "Pleaaase."

"Sure." Cass lifted Steph onto her shoulder.

Bruce smiled at his children and place an arm around Alfred. I felt Kate place her hand on my shoulder.

"Say cheese." Cassie said.

"Cheeese!" We all shouted as Cassie snapped the picture.

We all walked over to her. "How's it look?"

She through an arm around my neck. "Smile."

I looked at the camera in surprise as Cassie snapped a picture. "What was that about?" I asked as Cassie let go of me.

She shrugged. "You needed a photo of us."

She handed me the camera. I looked at the photo of us. Cassie looked perfect but I had a look of absolutely confusion plastered on my face. I smiled and looked at the family picture. Everyone looked perfect in it. Even Damien and Jay were smiling. The camera was quickly passed around everyone as they looked at the photo.

Afterwards we cut the cake. I could tell by the way that Cass and Steph watched me as I took the first slice, that they had baked it. "Best cake ever." I said after I took a bite. The two girls had huge grins plastered across their faces. The cake was quickly devoured by everyone.

A pile of gifts sat on the table from each of the Batfamily. I figured I'd open them later and we went to play party games. For a moment I thought they be boring but the look on Tim's face when the donkey tail ended up pinned to his back, courtesy of Steph, proved me wrong.

Eventually we all lay up and watched some movies. By eleven everyone was clearly knackered. I could barely even keep my eyes open. Carrie was sound asleep against Bruce and most of the others weren't far behind. I was almost asleep when I felt a small weight on my shoulder.

Cassie looked half asleep as she leaned against me. Maybe she was asleep, just with her eyes open. I couldn't tell.

"Is she asleep?" I heard a voice ask from behind me.

I looked over my shoudler. Diana stood in the open doorway. "Diana." Bruce slid out gently from under Carrie and stood up. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I knocked. I assure you." She said. "No one answered, so I let myself in."

"Sorry, Miss Prince, I was preoccupied." Alfred stated.

I hadn't even noticed Alfred in the armchair in the corner. Jay was curled up beside him and appeared to be sound asleep.

"No worries Alfred."

"You've come to pick up Carrie. I assume." Bruce said.

"Yes. I'd leave her here but I promised her mother I'd bring her home tonight."

"Of course."

I shook Cassie. "Wake up."

She looked up at me groggily. "Huh?"

"Diana."

She sat up straight and looked to Diana. "Oh hey."

"Time to go."

Cassie stood up and stretched. "Sure, I'll juat grab my bag, i think it's in the kitchen." She turned back to me. "See yah Ash, and Happy Birthday."

I smiled. "See yah."

Cassie and Diana left and I looked back at the TV. I didn't recognise the movie that was on. I didn't even know who picked it. Slowly I drifted off to sleep on the couch.

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Family - 30

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1941

Warnings:  Pregnancy, smut (MF, breastplay, vaginal sex, lactation (but not as a kink and not much of it))

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family.  When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 30: Home Remedies

Natasha and Rebecca only stayed in the medbay overnight.  They were home within a day and we quickly went back to normal life.  Things were getting hectic now with three infants and two toddlers but we still outnumbered them and we had the benefit of having staff to help.  Not just the nannies but cooks and cleaners and people to do laundry.  It meant we were free just to take care of the kids and for those still working, they had that too.  With all of us, we had this rotating wheel of people ready for midnight feelings, diaper changes, bedtime stories, trips to school, baths, and playtime.  No one was exactly well-rested, but no one was exhausted either.

One thing that was becoming increasingly clear though, Rose, Rebecca, and Sarah adored their older brother and sister.  All three infants’ gazes went automatically to where Riley and Pietro were in the room.  When they were fussy, it only took Riley and Pietro coming over and talking to them or playing with a toy in their line of view for them to quiet again, and when Rose and Sarah reached six weeks old and began to smile, they always had one for their big brother and sister.

Riley and Pietro still generally found the babies a little boring and thought they needed a little too much attention, but they were generally doing okay with the new babies in the house and as the babies started to be able to a little more, they began to warm up to them.  We each tried to make sure we spent proper quality time with each of them one-on-one at least once a week so that they never felt like they were neglected or overlooked by anyone.

The last big thing we were all waiting for was Edwin to arrive.

Unfortunately, he had other plans.  As my due date came and went I became more uncomfortable and exhausted.  I just wanted him out but he was determined to stay put.  I tried a few natural remedies.  I was eating spicy food and drinking raspberry leaf tea.  The others were ready and available to give me a massage whenever I asked.   I was walking the kids to school, and spending a lot of time doing yoga and swimming, (even if that meant taking Riley and Pietro down to the pool with me).  I even had Tony take me on long drives, making sure to hit every bit of bumpy road in the Tri-State area to try and get things going.  I was having sex every night and often during the day to try and get labor started, and on the day after Edwin’s due date I called in my prize from Sam and we had a marathon sex session while the kids were at school where he made me come to the point I ended up tapping out exhausted - but still that kid was determined to stay put.

At forty-one weeks, they were talking about me having a cesarean, and considering I’d had one with the twins, I really wanted to at least try a vaginal birth.  Especially given the recovery time after surgery and the fact we would then have six children to worry about.

I was desperate and stressed, which was doing nothing to help the situation because my blood pressure was going up, which only made Doctor Schroeder more adamant that if it didn’t happen naturally soon, it would have to be a c-section.

I came home from an appointment distraught.  Doctor Schroeder had told me that I would need to come in the following day and if my blood pressure hadn’t gone back down then it was time to intervene.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Steve said as our group came through the door.  “I’ll take you up and give you a nice relaxing massage, and you can have a nap.  We’ll get that blood pressure back down.”

Tony looked at me apologetically, like he was blaming himself for what was going on, and he rubbed my back.  “Sorry, honey,” he said.  “Of course it’s the one that’s related to me that’s causing all the trouble.”

I shook my head, and Bruce patted his shoulder.  “You heard the doc,” he said. “These things happen.  El knew there was the potential that she’d have to have another cesarean.  It’s no one’s fault and it’s better he gets here and everyone is safe and sound, right?”

“Right,” I said with a nod.  Of course, that was true, but it didn’t make me feel a whole lot better.

Steve led me up to our bedroom and dimmed the lights.  I stripped down naked while he lit some candles.  “See if you can sleep after this,” he said.  “The kids will be back from school when you wake up, and we can take them down to the pool together if you like.”

“I’ll try,” I said, and sat down in the special massage chair Tony had got for us.

“Shea or Mango?”  Steve asked.

“Shea please,” I answered and he came over and sat down on a stool behind me and began to slowly massage my back.  I relaxed in the chair as best I could, letting the chair support my head, chest, and arms as Steve worked out my tension and rubbed the body butter into my skin.  FRIDAY played a gentle calming song over the speakers and gradually I began to relax completely.

“You ready to try and nap?”  Steve asked as I began to doze a little.

I nodded and he helped me up and led me over to the bed.  I climbed in and he pulled away from me.  “You're not staying?” I asked.

“Just going to wash my hands, sweetheart,” he assured me.

I pulled my body pillow in under my knee and hugged it.  Steve washed his hands and stripped down to his undershirt and boxers before climbing in behind me, spooning me from behind.

He placed his hand on my stomach and I moved it up to my breast, he began to slowly and gently massage it and I hummed and pushed my ass back against his crotch.

“Thought you were gonna sleep,” he whispered against my ear.

“That will help me sleep,” I joked.

He chuckled softly and ghosted his lips up my neck as he began to apply more pressure on my breasts  “Will it now?”

“And maybe it might get the labor started.”  I rolled over to face him and looked into his eyes.  “That would fix all of this wouldn’t it?  If I go into labor then we don’t have to worry about my blood pressure.”

“You don’t have to beg, sweetheart,” he said, gently.  He caressed my cheek with the back of his fingers and I leaned into his hand.  “It’s not a chore.”

I shook my head.  “Sorry.  I’ve been out of control lately.  Even more so than my usually high libido.  It feels like I’ve been making it a chore.”

“Then let's make it special,” he whispered and leaned in and kissed me.

It was deep and tender, his lips gently caressing mine.  His hand returned to my breast and slowly massaged it, making me moan softly into his lips, and push myself closer to him, so my large belly pressed against his taut abdominal muscles.

He kissed down my neck, sucking softly on my skin.  I ran my fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck as I held him to me, relishing in the warmth of his body.  He moved further down and as he reached my breasts, his hand came to rest on my cunt.  I hummed softly as his tongue circled my areola and flicked over my nipple.  He closed his lips around it and began to suck.  His cheeks hollowed as he suckled at my breast.  It sent an ache through me, settling in at my core and making my muscles clench.  I moaned and my cunt flooded.  Even taking into account how much I loved my breasts being stimulated, and how sensitive they were right now due to how close I was to giving birth - there was something different about the way this felt.  It was like my core muscles tightened in response and something pressed down inside me, while at the same time my breast felt like pressure released in them.  I moaned and pushed up against him more.

He pulled back and wiped his mouth.  “You must be so close, El,” he whispered.  “I actually got something then.”

I felt myself turn a bright red.  “Oh god.  I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for. It’s natural and normal,” he said, drawing me back closer to him.  “It tastes sweet.”

“Yeah?”  I asked.

“Mm-hmm… it’s beautiful,” he said and latched back onto my breast.

I tensed but it felt so damned good.  His fingers began to work my clit and soon I was moaning and shuddering under his attention.  My cunt slicked his fingers as they moved up and down my folds and circled over my clit and my breast leaked just a small amount as he suckled on them.

“Steve,” I moaned, arching my back a little on the bed.  “Steve, I need you.  Please fuck me.”

Steve leaned up and kissed me deeply.  I could taste the sweet colostrum lingering on his lips and moaned softly, letting him guide me onto my side.  He pushed his boxers down and spooned me, pulling me flush against him and wrapping his arms around me so I was completely engulfed by him.  He started to slowly rut his hips so his cock slid up and down my folds and teased my entrance.  I leaned my head back on his shoulder, my lips slightly parted, and as he brought his lips to mine he sunk his cock slowly inside me.

I moaned into the kiss and he slowly began to fuck me.  His hands roamed over my body, massaging my tits, holding my throat, rubbing my clit.  It was like I was falling apart slowly.  A soft buzz crept through me, traveling through my veins, and spiraling down to my core.  I rolled my hips with him as he thrust in from behind.

Gradually my orgasm built inside me and pressed down.  My muscles clenched and my cunt fluttered and with a moan, I came.

“That’s it,” Steve praised and kissed my neck.  He picked up his pace a little as he chased his own release.  I gasped and moaned louder, clenching around his cock.  His hands tightened on my breasts and he tugged on my nipples.  I mewled loudly and another orgasm hit, stronger than before.

Steve’s groaned and kissed me again and with a deep thrust, he came, spilling inside me.  He slowed his thrusts as his cock pulsed inside me and caressed my cheek with his thumb.  I hummed happily into his lips and as he slipped out of me, a tight pain spread around my midriff.  I curled forward and whined.

Steve immediately started rubbing my back.  “Did we do it?  Was that a contraction?”

“I think… might just be a Braxton Hicks of course,” I said as it quickly passed.

“Alright,” Steve said, kissing my shoulder.  “Try and sleep.  Either way, you need the rest.  If it’s started we’ll know soon enough.”

I nodded and closed my eyes.  “Thank you, Steve,” I whispered.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he soothed.  “And I’m not going anywhere.”

I smiled and as I drifted off in his arms, I hoped that what would wake me up would be my labor pains.

// NEXT

[spnwriter]

Maybe he doesn’t want to take the chance.

AN: there is a slight sexual theme to this one, it’s talked about but nothing graphic. just a warning. <3

I  should have known better. Hunters don't get the apple pie life. We don't get a happily ever after. Dating isn't something hunters get to do. I was only hunting part-time, trying to get out of the life but it's never easy. I grew up in it, my dad had me hunting as soon as I could hold a gun. After he died, I killed the werewolf that killed him. Unfortunately, the whole pack came after me so I didn't end up getting out. I slowly started to taper off how often I took cases. So I figured I'd try to date, have a semi-normal life...it wasn't working. I had been seeing this amazing guy, Mikey. I hadn't told him what I do on the side but, I have a feeling he'd take it well. Things were going swimmingly. I really thought that he could the reason I get out of the life. No such luck, I got home from a hunt and found a skinny little blonde on top of him. And just like that my happily ever after goes up in smoke. He said it was because I was never around. He had needs that I couldn't cater to so I broke his nose before getting in my car. I drove as fast and as far as I could before the tears started blinding my vision. I pull over on the side of the road allowing the sobs to take over my body. I actually thought he loved me. He said he did but then again, everybody lies. I just so happened to be on the other side of one this time. I suppose it's some kind of cosmic karma for lying as much as I do in the hunting life. I slam my hands against the steering wheel as anger fills my body. How dare he? We were together for a year tomorrow. I didn't hunt that often, in fact, I was hardly gone at all. Maybe a couple of days once a month. Dear God why me? Why can't I be happy? A sob wrecks through my body. I tried to hard. I tried to have a 'normal' life. I wanted that, why can't I have that? My thoughts drift, I wonder if it'd be uncalled for is I went back and shot him? I mean like in the knee or something...

. “Maybe a little.” a gruff voice says from behind me. 

  I jump turning around to stare into familiar ocean blue eyes. 

  “Cas! You scared the shit out of me!” I snap at the angle in my back seat as I wipe the tears from my eyes. 

  “My apologizes, I heard your prayer and wanted to check on you.” Cas explains looking at me through the rearview mirror.

“I didn't pray.” 

  “Not in the normal way no but I did hear you.” Cas sighs placing a hand on my shoulder before we arrive at the bunker. 

Sam and Dean are sat at the library table. They both look up at us when we appear in the room. 

  “What happened?” Sam asks standing quickly to rush over to me. He inspects my body for injuries, gently cupping my jaw in his hands as his eyes scan my body. I reach up grabbing his wrists. Sam and I had always been close. Since I met him the younger Winchester and I got along well. Alright, alright I may have a small (massive) crush on the tall hunter but who wouldn't? Sam is such a sweetheart, so caring and eyes on the eyes. I know he'd never like me back so I settle for being his friend. I'd rather have him in my life in a  platonic way than not at all. These three men around me have always been there for me. They're my family. This is where I had planned on going before Cas zapped me here. I knew this was the place I could get my head back on straight. Heal and not be judged for it. 

  “I'm not injured Sammy.” I whisper as his eyes soften at the notice of the dried tears on my face. 

  “Mike cheated on her.” Cas exclaims “She was in her car crying, she prayed.”

“Cas!” I sigh “Come on.” 

  Sam is quick to wrap his arms around me, holding me tight. He places a gentle kiss on my cheek before whispering “You deserve so much better. I'm sorry he did that you.” 

  “I'm going to kill him.” Dean exclaims loudly before grabbing his gun and walking towards me. 

  Sam lets me go as I say “Hey if anyone gets to shoot his ass it's me.”

Dean is quick to replace Sam. He wraps his arms around me. “I'm sorry Kid. I know you loved him.” Dean whispers kissing the side of my head before walking back to the table. The thing is, I didn't love him. I liked him but, I could never love him the way I love Sam. No one could ever hold a candle to the younger Winchester. I suppose that's why I was with Mikey in the first place, to get over him but, it didn't work. I just kept comparing them and I ended up getting heartbroken anyway.

Sam takes my hand in his, leading me to his room. He shuts the door behind us as I flop on his bed. He laughs lightly before taking the spot next to me. He turns his head towards me asking “Do you want to talk about it?” I frown looking at the ceiling. 

  “I'm starting to question my choice in men. I ended up being destroyed physically, emotionally and I don't understand. Love is supposed to heal you but it doesn't do that for me. I've been cheated on more times than I can count, I've been replaced with someone better, I was lied to by the person I love. He said he loved me. He didn't though. Love fucking destroyed me. In the end I'm left wondering if I'm good enough. Maybe I too blind to see the real me. What if the real me isn't good enough? Maybe love does heal but I'm just not good enough? Maybe I'm the reason he cheated and chose someone better, prettier, thinner. Maybe I'm the reason he didn't love me. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's all my fault.” I vent, allowing my insecurities to show. 

  “Y/N, look at me.” Sam says voice gentle

. I turn to face the hazel eyes I love so much. He frowns at me placing a hand on the side of my face. 

  “You are not the problem. It isn't your fault he cheated. You didn't do anything wrong. You are an amazing woman. You are a beautiful, kind strong woman. He just didn't see it. It's his fault, not yours.” Sam whispers. “As for him picking someone 'better' I don't think it's possible. Yeah, she may have been thinner than you but, that doesn't make her better than you.” “He said he did it because I was gone too much. He had needs that I couldn't meet...” I hesitate not wanting to voice what I was actually thinking about what Mikey had said. Yes, Sam and I were best friends and yeah we had talked about sex before but never alone. It's always been with Dean present. Mostly because he's the one who brings it up. I really don't want to have this conversation with him but at the same time, I really need to voice this stuff. I can't let it sit in my head and overwhelm me. 

  “Was he trying to imply that you didn't meet his needs...” Sam asks, confusion in his voice. 

  “I think so...I don't know I really didn't stick around to hear an explanation.” 

  “A  relationship isn't all about sex Y/N. If you weren't meeting his needs he should have talked to you about it not cheated on you. I mean if he got off he shouldn't have any complaints.” 

  “By that logic I should have been the one having complaints.” I joke, not thinking that I just admitted that Mikey never got me off in our entire almost year relationship. 

  “Wait, you're telling me he never got you off? “ Sam sits up suddenly causing me to follow his actions turning my body to face him. “Like ever?”

“Kind of an awkward conversation Sammy.” I blush

“No, no, you brought it up. I want to know.” 

  “If you really must know no he never did,” I admit.

“You guys were together for a year.” Sam utters, obviously trying to wrap his head around the new information he'd just been told. 

  “Believe me, I know.” 

  “Did he never go down on you or something?” Sam asks, unashamed of how personal of a question that was. 

  “Sam!” 

  “Come on, we've known each other forever. We can talk about sex. Especially when it's bashing you ex douche bag.” I give in, knowing I can't really say no to him. I sigh before bringing my legs to sit with them under me. 

  “Once and I didn't...you know so he figured I didn't like it...truth is it was awful.” 

  “So foreplay consisted of what?” Sam asks moving to sit against the headboard. 

  “Nothing really. Some dry humping, light fingering but only enough to make sure I was ready for the main event.” I shrug. 

  “You're kidding me right? Did you ever give him head as foreplay?”

“Yeah, all the time.”   

“And yet he wouldn't go down on you.” 

  “I don't know, the sex was never amazing.” I sigh 

  “Yeah sounds like it.” Sam huffs “So what? You had to finish yourself off?” 

  I nod “Usually after he'd gone to bed or in the shower.” 

  “So you haven't had an orgasm that wasn't given to yourself since you've been with that asshole?” 

  “Hum, I guess not.” I hadn't really thought of it like that to be honest. 

  “How did you survive?” 

  “A bit dramatic Sam but, I had toys to help. Was quite fond of my vibrator for quick but if I had the time...I dragged out the Bruce.” I admit, not knowing why I couldn't stop the word vomit coming out of my mouth. Sam's eyebrows shoot up as he observed me. 

  “And Bruce is?” Sam asks licking his lips. 

  “Oh that's my nine inch dildo.” Was I really about to talk about my toy collection with my best friend and secret crush? Guess I am.

  “And it was bigger than Mikey?” He asks eyes not leaving mine

“Oh yeah by a lot.” I don't look away from his eyes. What the hell is going on? 

“So he was small and bad in bed?” 

  I nod still not looking away from the hunter before me. Something in the air as we stay looking at each other. Something in his eyes I haven't seen when he looks at me. No one says anything as we just openly check out each other. 

  “So...why did you stay with him?” He asks, voice soft.

  “Honestly?” I pause finally breaking eye contact, eyes trained on my hands in my lap. “I was trying to get over a guy that'd never feel the same.” 

  “How do you know he'd never feel the same?” 

  I looking up  “I'm not good enough for him.” 

  “Maybe he thinks the same...and that's why he never showed any interest?” 

  “Why would he think that? He could have anyone he wants?” I ask understanding we're dancing around our feelings. 

  “Maybe the woman he wanted was with someone else and he thought he'd never get his chance.” 

  “Maybe the guy she was with messed up and he does get his chance after all.” “What if he's scared to take that chance?” I can see the hesitation in his features as he eyes me. I smile slowly crawling over to sit in front of him. 

  “Maybe he doesn't have to be the one to take the chance.” I smirk before climbing in his lap, legs on either side on his slim hips. His hands grasp my hips quickly. “

Y/N.” Sam starts looking down at me. 

“D-did did I read the situation wrong?” I ask suddenly insecure at my bold assumption that it was, in fact, me he was talking about. “Not at all...I just want to make sure that we are on the same page here.” The fear leaving my mind as I understand he wants us to be opened about our feelings rather than continuing to dance around them. “I'm in love with you. Have been since that salt and burn two years ago.” I smile “Dean was hurt and couldn't go with you, it was the first hunt we did just us.”

 Sam smiles “Yeah, I remember that hunt. I dragged it out so that I could spend more time with you, but when I realized I loved you is when you almost died on that werewolf hunt...If Cas wasn't there...” 

  “Don't think like that Sam. I'm alive.” He doesn't respond instead he presses his lip against mine. We both smile into the kiss before he pulls away resting his forehead on mine “I love you.” “I love you too.” 

  “Be mine?” 

  “I always was.”

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 29

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 29 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 29/? SUMMARY:  The Doctor’s death is looming on the horizon and Elise is growing every  day. What the Doctor doesn’t know is that he has 200 years to teach Elise all he knows. Amy, Rory, and River let Elise in on their secret,  because River knows she will keep it. What will Elise do when he’s gone?

Amy, Rory, the Doctor, and Elise stepped out of the TARDIS into what looked to be a hotel.

“Let's go to Ravan-Skala, he says. The people are six hundred feet tall. You have to talk to them in hot air balloons and the Tourist Information Center is made of one of their hats, he says. I'm sorry, but I don't see any huge hats,” Amy told him.

“Amy, Beaky, this could be the most exciting thing I have ever seen.”

“You're kidding,” Rory said as the Doctor ran up the staircase.

“How can you be excited about a rubbish hotel on a rubbish bit of Earth?” Amy asked.

“Because, assembled Ponds and Elise, this is not Earth. This has just been made to look like Earth. The craftsmanship involved. Can you imagine?”

Elise loved her father, but she had to admit he had some weird interests.

They made their way back to the reception area where the TARDIS parked.

“What? Then where are we?” Amy asked.

“I don't know,” the Doctor said, “Something must have yanked us off course. Look at the detail on that cheese plant!” He walked over to the plant and sniffed the leaf.

“Right, but who would mock up an Earth hotel?” Rory asked.

The Doctor picked an apple from a bowl sitting on a table and tossed it in the air. “Colonists maybe, recreating a bit of home, like when ex-pats open English pubs in Majorca.” The Doctor took a bite of the apple.

“Thought you didn’t like apples?” Elise asked him, a smirk on her face.

“Oi. Hush you! Whoever did this, I am shaking his/her hand/tentacle.”

Rory walked over to a wall of pictures. “Have you seen these? Look at the labels underneath. Commander Halke, defeat. Tim Heath, having his photo taken. Lady Silver-Tear, Daleks.”

Amy joined him. “Bruce Barnes, other people's socks. Tim Nelson, balloons. Novice Prin, sabrewolves. Royston Luke Gold, Plymouth? Lucy Hayward, that brutal gorilla. Doctor, what does it mean?”

“I don't know. Let's find out.” He rang the bell on the desk and three people appeared.

One was a woman holding a chair leg, another was a man holding a lamp, and the third was some type of alien holding a white flag.

“Blimey, that was a bit quick,” the Doctor said.

“We surrender!” the alien said.

“No, it's okay, we're not…” Rory told him.

“We surrender!”

“We're nice.”

“She's threatening me with a chair leg!” the Doctor said, pointing at the woman in scrubs.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Oh god, we're back in reception,” the man said.

“We surrender!” the alien repeated.

“I've never been threatened with a chair leg before. No, hang on, I tell a lie,” the Doctor told them.

“Did you just say, it's okay, we're nice?” Amy asked Rory.

“Okay, I need everyone to shut up, now,” the woman said.

“Rita, be careful, yeah?” the man said.

“Their pupils are dilated. They're as surprised as we are. Besides which, if it's a trick, it'll tell us something,” Rita rattled off.

The Doctor smiled. “Oh, you're good. Oh, she's good. Amy, with regret, you're fired.”

“What?” Amy snapped.

“I'm kidding.” He turned to Rita and made a telephone gesture, mouthing, “We'll talk.” The Doctor turned to the alien. “I take it from the pathological compulsion to surrender, you're from Tivoli.”

“Yes. The most invaded planet in the galaxy. Our anthem is called Glory To Insert Name Here. I’m Gibbis, by the way.”

“You with the face, Howie, you said you were surprised to be back in reception.”

“The walls move. Everything changes,” Howie explained.

“You, clever one. What's he talking about?”

“The corridors twist and stretch. Rooms vanish and pop up somewhere else. It's like the hotel's alive,” Rita told him.

The Doctor walked over to the radio and turned the music off. “That's quite enough of that.”

“Yeah, and it's huge, with, like, no way out,” Howie said.

“Have you tried the front door?” Rory asked.

“No. In two days it never occurred to us to try the front door. Thank God you're here,” Rita deadpanned, causing Amy to laugh.

The Doctor soniced the doors before opening them. “They're not doors, they're walls. Walls that look like doors. Door-walls, if you like, or dwalls. Woors even, though you'd probably got it when you said they're not doors. I mean, the windows are…” He pulled back the curtain to reveal more bricks. “Right, big day if you're a fan of walls.”

“It's not just that. The rooms have…things in them,” Rita said.

“Things? Hello! What kind of things?” the Doctor asked, “Interesting things? I love things, ask anyone.”

“Bad dreams.”

“Well, that killed the mood. How did you get here?”

“I don't know. I'd just started my shift. I must have passed out, because suddenly I was here.”

“I was blogging. Next thing, this,” Howie said.

“Oh, I was at work. I'm in Town Planning. We're lining all the highways with trees so invading forces can march in the shade,” Gibbis explained, “Which is nice for them.”

“So, what have we got? People snatched from their lives and dropped into an endless, shifting maze that looks like a 1980s hotel with bad dreams in the bedrooms.” The Doctor took a Rubik’s cube from his pocket and tossed it. “Well, apart from anything else, that's just rude.”

They made their back down to the first floor landing.

“We'll pop back to the TARDIS, I'll do a planet-wide diagnostic sweep, and then we'll have a sing song,” the Doctor told them.

They stopped when they realized the TARDIS was gone.

“Where's the TARDIS? You parked it there, didn't you?” Amy asked.

“What's a TARDIS?” Howie asked.

“Our way out. And it's gone,” Rory said.

Elise opened her mouth to say something, but the Doctor hushed her again.

Suddenly, the radio started up again.

“Okay, this is bad. At the moment, I don't know how bad, but certainly we're three buses, a long walk and eight quid in a taxi from good,” the Doctor said pacing, “Are there any more of you?”

“Joe. But he's tied up right now,” Rita said.

“Doing what?”

“No, I mean he's tied up right now.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rita, Gibbs, and Howie led them to the restaurant.

The man in question, Joe, was tied to a chair. The room was filled with dummies that stopped laughing as soon as they entered the room. Their heads turned towards the group and Elise grabbed onto to Rory’s arm.

“It’s okay,” he told her.

The Doctor walked up to Joe. “Hello. I'm the Doctor.”

“We're going to die here.”

“Well, they certainly didn't mention that in the brochure. Is Joe there? Can I have a quick word?” The Doctor grabbed an empty chair and sat down in it at Joe’s table.

“Oh, it's still me, Doctor, but I've seen the light. I lived a blasphemous life, but he has forgiven my inconstancy, and soon he shall feast.”

“Well, you've been here two days. What's he waiting for?”

“We weren't ready. We were still raw.”

“But now you're what? Cooked?”

“If you like. Soon you will be, too. Be patient. First, find your room.”

“My room.”

“There's a room here for everyone, Doctor. Even you.”

“You said you'd seen the light now.”

“Nothing else matters anymore. Only him. It's like these things. I used to hate them. They make me laugh now.” Joe started laughing. “Gottle o' geer. Gottle o' geer!”

The dummies joined Joe in laughing.

“You should go. He'll be here soon,” Joe told him.

“I think you should come with me.” He grabbed a luggage trolley and used it to wheel Joe back to the reception area. “Why you four? That's what I don't understand. Aside from all the other things I don't understand,” the Doctor said. He turned off the radio again.

“What does it matter? Sooner or later, someone will come along and rescue us. Or enslave us,” Gibbis said.

Elise thought the alien was rather pathetic. Living your life in constant fear? No thanks, she’d already done that in her first few years of life.

“First, we find the TARDIS. Quick thing before we go. If you feel drawn to a particular room, do not go in, and make sure someone else can see you at all times,” the Doctor told them.

“Joe said, he will feast. Is there something here with us?” Rita asked.

Joe started laughing again.

“Something to add, Joe?” the Doctor asked him.

“Here comes a candle to light you to bed. Here comes a chopper to chop off your head. Chop, chop, chop, chop.”

“Can we do something about him?” Howie asked.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Soon, they were wandering around the hotel.

Gibbis was wheeling Joe, who had his mouth taped shut. “Personally, I think you've got the right idea. Times like this, I think of my old school motto. Resistance Is Exhausting,” Gibbis said.

A man in his underwear with a whistle around his neck stepped out of room 158.

“Hello,” the Doctor said.

“Have you forgotten your PE kit again? Right, that's it, you're doing it in your pants!” the teacher yelled and then went back inside the room.

Behind them, Howie was staring at a door.

“Hey! Don't!” the Doctor yelled, but it was too late.

Howie opened the door to reveal several girls.

“Oh, look, girls, it's H-H-H-Howie!” the blonde said.

“What's loser in K-K-K-Klingon?” a brunette asked.

“Shut the-the-the d-d-d-the door!” Howie stuttered.

The Doctor closed the door as Howie looked embarrassed.

“This is just some m-m-messed up CIA stuff. I'm…I'm…I'm telling you.”

The Doctor put an arm around his shoulder. “You're right. Keep telling yourself that. It's a CIA thing, nothing more.” They ventured up the staircase to the next floor.

Amy knelt down and picked up a couple of pieces of paper. “Look.”

There was a loud roaring noise.

“Okay, whatever that is, it's not real, yeah?” Amy asked.

“No. No, I'm sure it isn't, but just in case, let's run away and hide anyway. In here,” the Doctor said.

Gibbis, Amy, Elise, Howie and the Doctor ducked into one of the rooms.

“Where’s Rory?” Elise asked.

The Doctor ran out of the room. “Rory, come on!”

“There was a…”

“Come on!”

Elise turned around and gasped.

There were Weeping Angels.

Elise backed away from them, not blinking, until she bumped into her father. Their last encounter had been less than pleasant. At least River at had been there.

“Don't blink,” Amy said.

“What?” Howie asked.

The lights flickered and the angels moved closer.

Elise whimpered. The Doctor could feel her shaking as she tried to press herself closer to him.

“Amy, get back!” the Doctor said, grabbing them.

The lights kept flickering, but the angels didn’t move.

“Why haven't they got us yet?” the Doctor asked. He stepped out behind Elise and walked towards them. He reached out, but his hand went through the angel.

“Amy, Elise, they're not real,” he said.

“What?” Amy asked.

“They should have got us by now. Amy, look at me. Focus on me. It's your bad dream, that's all.”

“I don't even think they're for us,” Rory said.

They all looked and saw Gibbis hiding in the wardrobe as something stomped slowly down the hallway.

The Doctor walked towards the door.

“Doctor, what are you doing?” Amy asked.

“I'm sorry, I just have to see what it is. I just have to see.” He looked through the peep hole. “Oh, look at you. Oh, you are beautiful. Oh, dear. I think it's going after Joe.” The Doctor opened the door and went out into the hallway. “Leave him alone!” He took off running.

Elise started to go after him, but Rory grabbed her. “I have to help him!” she told him.

“We can’t afford to get separated in this place.”

“But…”

“The Doctor will be fine. Just like he always is.”

Rory and older Amy’s words echoed in her head.

The Doctor and his ever faithful daughter.

[saunteringhusbands]

“What are your thoughts on me?” Jason looks down at Roy who begged the question while tying his shoes. Jason opened his mouth, though nothing came out, as he wasn’t quite sure what it implied. Roy rose up, locked eyes with the other boy. Looked to his lips then back up, studied those blue eyes and waited. 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” the response was gravelly. He turned his back on the red-head to put on his jacket. 

Roy grabbed at Jason’s hand and tugged. He spun him around and took a step forward, holding the other man in place. “You know exactly what I mean.” 

Jason stared down at their hands, eyes transfixed on how perfectly their fingers tied together. Roy was right. He knew exactly what he meant. He couldn’t answer yet, though, the words weren’t there and any spoken would simply be forced. He leaned forward instead, squeezed the hand he was holding and parted his lips and fell into Roy. And one could say that was an answer enough for Roy. He smiled into the kiss and moved his arms to embrace Jason. Both consider it the start of their life together.

Not much time passes, some months, maybe a year maybe two. They’re shopping downtown, in some furniture store and Jason is looking at plates. He’s holding a blue one in his hands, inspecting its ridges. Roy looks up from a selection of hand cloths to focus on Jay. He smiles softly. 

“What are your thoughts on moving in together?” Roy asks, stalking over. 

Jason raises an eyebrow, ponders slightly, and bites his lip. He eyes the atrocious, bright orange wash cloth in Roy’s hand. “Fine,” he starts, “but only if I’m in charge of the decor.” He tears the cloth away and gives Roy a kiss in place of it. It’ll simply have to do.

They’re walking through the park. It’s warm, that first solid week of spring when all signs of winter are out of sight, out of mind, and the flowers begin to bud. They’re hand in hand, strolling down the sidewalk path. Neither is really talking, save for simple phrases, lines about the weather and a bird over yonder and what they’ll have for dinner. Things are good for them right now. 

Roy takes mental notes of the dogs. He turns to Jason, ever so suddenly. The corner of his lip rises and he looks down at the ground thoughtfully. 

“What are your thoughts on getting a dog?” 

Jason chuckles. They spend the rest of the afternoon spit-balling names back and forth. They spend the following day picking out chew toys and a leash and collar and harness and food bowls and a bed at the local pet store. By the weekend they’re at the shelter, wandering up and down aisles of kennels. They find a pitbull named Raptor. Jason chats with the receptionist and fills out adoption papers. Roy sits with the dog on the ground, covering him in kisses, scratches, and belly rubs. Jason smiles at the sight.

They just finished dinner, a roast chicken with mashed potatoes and corn. Jason cooked the majority of it, and he does the dishes now, scrubbing away at their plates and setting them aside to be dried. He hears Roy enter the kitchen and teases him with a comment about having to do dishes alone. No response. He rolls his eyes and shuts the water off, drying his hands, ready to say something else, but Roy beats him to it.

“What are your thoughts on marriage?”

Jason’s jaw drops the slightest bit. He turns around. Roy is knelt before him on the ground, a look of pure wonder on his face. One hand is caressing an open box, revealing a simple gold ring. The other reaches out for Jason. He grabs that hand, pulling Roy up. There’s a foot of space between the two and neither’s quite sure what to do. One is holding on anxiously, awaiting an answer he’d hoped would come without thought. The other is terrified. His mind is going a million miles a minute. He loves Roy. He’s sure he loves Roy. Yet, there’s still a tugging, a fear. 

It doesn’t matter. It can’t possibly matter. From their last four years together, Roy has given Jason everything he could ever possibly need; every ounce of solace, every kiss, every hug, every dance, every smile. Life with Roy is comfort. It’s serenity. It’s everything he’s never had, everything he’s longed for.

He collapses then, into freckled arms, an embrace. “Yes,” he relieves. “God fucking yes, Roy, god do I want to marry you.”

They spend the night covering one another in kisses, drinking the finest wine their cupboard could serve them, straight from the bottle. They make plans. They aren’t in a rush, but they are in love, and perhaps there isn’t much of a difference. 

Their wedding is small. Immediate family and friends only. Alfred walks Jason down the aisle. They marry and eat cake and Dick gives a speech about each of the grooms and they spend the night dancing to a shitty playlist put together by Tim. Oliver and Bruce try to outdo each other with wedding gifts. And at the end of the night, when it’s just the pair of them, Red Hood and Arsenal, Robin and Speedy, Jason and Roy, they hold one another close and talk in soft voices, breath entwining, much like their bodies beneath the sheets. They speak of love and promises. 

Months later. Roy is working at the dining room table, clicking away on his laptop. Jason is in the living room, rereading Hamlet for the umpteenth time, twisting his wedding ring around on his finger. He loves that damn ring. Once so afraid of the weight it might bring, he’s been met with the utter opposite. He finds relief in it all. In having someone to hold onto when the nights get long, look forward to on the stressful days, lounge with when the outside world is gray and he’s in need of a day off. They work together. Everything aligned so perfectly, fit so snugly, like pieces of a puzzle. 

Jason’s never been happier.

He looks up now and is met with the image of Roy standing in the door frame, laptop in his hands still.

“What are your thoughts on a house with a white picket fence?”

They move to the middle of the country, far from both Gotham and Star City. They hang up their capes and never touch a weapon again. Their days open up and begin to be spent painting the walls of the house. Their nights are spent cuddled up on the couch, Jason reading aloud to Roy and Raptor, exposing them to worlds they’d never before tasted, never even thought to step foot in. 

With bliss comes rain and when it rains it pours. They just had a big fight. Each party said things he didn't mean, and though they both know they weren’t coming from truthful places, neither is ready to apologize just yet. 

They sit side by side on their bed, a few feet between them. Both stare absently at the wall. They won’t go to bed angry, it’s something they both agreed on. Still, this waiting game doesn’t seem to be going anywhere and it’s getting late. Roy has work early the next morning, Jason an appointment. 

It’s half past one when Roy breaks the silence. He gnaws on his cheek, straightens his back, bows his head and looks at his husband out of the corner of his eye. 

“What are your thoughts on kids?”

Jason’s shoulders drop, all pent-up tension released in a single second. He crawls across the bed and falls into Roy’s lap, wrapping arms around a slender waist. They stay up late dreaming up a family. 

Jason doesn’t make it to his appointment that day. Roy calls in sick to work.

Over the course of the next few years, they adopt three children, who they love as much as if they were their own. Their house becomes chaotic, the good kind. Jason cooks family meals and cleans up and gets the kids to school. Roy works as an engineer for some company and comes home every day to his husband and children. 

When the kids are asleep, and the house is still, and the night is a haven in opposed to a battleground, Jason and Roy still snuggle up on the couch for Jason to read aloud to his husband, their dog at their feet. It’s a particular night. Jason’s back is against Roy’s chest, Roy’s fingers are running through Jason’s hair as he reads Picture of Dorian Gray. There’s a candle burning on the coffee table, and a small, warm lamp is turned on from its place on an end table, but besides that, the house is dark, it’s sleepy, it’s homey. Roy trails kisses down Jason’s neck.

“What are your thoughts on me?” He begs, a whisper.

Jason smiles. It’s been twelve years since he was first asked that. He remembers his response to it then: a passionate kiss, a skipped patrol, a night in bed together. He had been young, full of fear, yet lust, yet a deep, growing love for this boy before him. And now, today, tonight, he sits with twelve years of experience in his back pocket.

He’s fallen in love with Roy. With his hands, freckles, eyes, cupids bow, back dimples. With his corny jokes, useless inventions, stupid catch phrases that aren’t catchy in the slightest. With his mannerisms, the essence of him, the ins, the outs, the very existence that is Roy William Harper.

Jason’s heart swells, it’s warm, his head is an eruption of butterflies and he simply thinks to himself, “I love him.”

“My thoughts, Roy Harper, love of my life, father of my children,” Jason starts slowly, taking small breaks between words, as if sounding it all out, warming up to the water before jumping in head first. “Are that I love you, and that you complete me.”

Roy buries his face in the crook of Jason’s neck. “God, I fucking love you.”

They fall asleep there, on the couch, a tangled mess of limps and a book discarded to the floor. They awake the next morning to their children bouncing atop them. They spend the Saturday as a family. Roy plays a board game with the youngest two while Jay helps the eldest with a history assignment in the kitchen. In the midst of it all, they exchange a look, a knowing look, a loving one, one which promises so much, one which reads, ‘we’ve made it.’

[banashee]

 Second Time is the charm

 "Oh God, who's dead or dying?"

 Tony turns around, spatula in his hand and a confused look on his face.

 "Huh? No one is dead or in the process of getting there. I'm just cooking."

 "Yes you are. Which is why I'm asking."

 "Rude, Pepper." he gestures with the hand holding the spatula, accidentally flicking sauce in her general direction. "Oops, sorry 'bout that."

 Pepper looks at him, unimpressed. She does that a lot. Then, she dips a finger into the drop of sauce on the counter top, and in an spontaneous boost of bravery, tastes it. To her credit, she manages to keep a mostly straight face, even when her insides shrivel up at the sensation - there is a whole lot of salt and little else. Probably a bit of an burned aftertaste, too.

 Tony, however, is well practiced is reading her micro expressions - they've been friends for too long.

 "That bad?" he asks, and Pepper just looks at him, very very flatly and then nods.

 "Who are you planning to feed this to, and what horrible thing did they do to deserve this?" she asks, getting a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water from the fridge dispenser.

 Tony sighs, waving the spatula around as he talks, splattering sauce around the kitchen once again - Pepper tries to side steps the mess.

 “This was supposed to be a test run. You know the wedding anniversary is coming up and I was gonna surprise Clint with a nice dinner at home. He cooks all the time and I wanted to return the favor, but, well.” he waves at the half burned and over salted mess on the stove. Then, Tony dips a spoon into the pan to taste it - his face scrunches up in disgust and he drops the spoon into the sink and nearly dumps the pan after it, making a gagging noise and glares in the general direction of the ruined dinner.

 “Maybe not. Unless giving your partner food poisoning is considered romantic these days. Even then… Okay so this was a shit idea.” he grumbles, clearly annoyed and more than a little disappointed.

 Pepper has been typing on her phone ever since she learned the reason for the cooking attempt, making thoughtful noises. Now, she quickly walks over to stop Tony from making any harsh decisions right now. Gently, she grabs him by the shoulders, stirring him away from the stove. He lets her, and her next words are firm but reassuring.

 “Stop. Don’t move. Help is on the way.”

 As if on cue, footsteps come closer to the kitchen. A familiar voice says,

 “Please tell me nothing caught on fire.”

 And another sighs, “Oh dear.”

 In the doorway stand Bruce and Steve, clearly expecting the worst and prepared for everything. Tony would be offended but as it is, they’re his best hope right now. Pepper may be a good moral support, but she hates cooking, so he is actually happy to see those two.

 “Not yet but I’m working on it.” he quips back, grinning brightly for a few seconds with one of his million dollar showman fake smiles. Then his face falls.

 “Please help, I’m about to throw this whole thing out the window.”

 Pepper leaves them to it, with a small smile and a kiss to his cheek she turns to the door.

 “You got this. Just don’t attempt doing this alone on the day and you’ll be fine.”

 Meanwhile, Bruce inspects the concoction on the stove with a mildly curious expression that he’s often wearing in the lab, mainly when something unexpected and slightly concerning happens and he wants to see how it’ll work out. Steve, in good foresight, pulls out more ingredients from the refrigerator.  

 Both of them taste the sauce, despite Tony’s warning protests. They taste it very, very carefully and it’s a testament to their friendship that they do so - neither of them spits it back out but the cringe is enough.

 “Okay, let’s start neutralizing the salt for one.” Bruce decides, and who would have known that heavy cream and honey help with that - so does the stretching of the liquid. In the end, the three of them manage to salvage the meal, and even more so, are able to enjoy it despite the burned bits they need to pick from their plates.

 A little while later, when they clear the table and get to washing up, Steve says,

 “Let us help on the big day, alright? Just to be safe.”

 “Please do.” says Bruce, and Tony huffs a laugh as he stands in between them.

 “I hate you both.” he claims, but the fact that he’s got one arm wrapped around each of them and the happy smile on his face betray him. Pulling his friends close, he adds, “Really tho, thank you. I would totally screw this up otherwise.”

 “We know, that’s why we’re here.”

 “Oh, fuck you!” he scoffs, but they’re all laughing.

 *+~

 On the morning of the second wedding anniversary, Tony wakes up to a text message from Clint.

     ‘On the way back rn, debrief on base after. Might even make it home on time! :) I Love you’  

 It brings a happy smile to his face, even early in the morning before he’s had coffee. This mission had come up last minute as always, and the possibility of them having to spend this day apart had been quite high. As it looks now, they might at least have a nice and quiet evening together, and it’s more than they could have hoped for.

 Tony types a reply,

     ‘Good morning beloved, that’s great news - you better get your ass over here asap, I miss you ;)’  

 Then he opens up another chat, his ongoing conversation with Natasha which for about 60%, consists of memes and links to obscure YouTube videos.

     ‘Hey-o, can you please let me know when you guys are wrapping up at HQ? Possibly distract Clint if you finish early? Gotta prepare a surprise. Should be done around 7-ish.’  

 Her reply comes almost instantly.

     ‘Sure thing. Happy anniversary :)’  

     ‘Thanks, Itsy-bitsy. You’re the best :)’  

     ‘I know.’  

 The day passes surprisingly fast, then. One moment, Tony is relaxing on the couch, drinking coffee while Lucky sprawls happily over his legs as he scratches the good spot behind his ears and then, his phone alarm goes off that tells him he’s got a cooking date with Steve and Bruce. And because these guys are amazing friends, they show up on the door to the penthouse just in time for the three of them to start preparing a nice three course dinner.

 It’s fun, and with the “adult supervision” Tony finds himself perfectly capable of doing this.

 Once upon a time, this would have been impossible.

 “Tony, you’re one of the smartest people alive and you have many talents - but cooking isn’t one of them.” he’s been told on more than one occasion, and it’s been true for most of his life. But things are different now - he wants to learn. He wants this small part of everyday life.

 Those last few years, he finds himself happier than he can remember being, possibly ever, and it feels simply amazing to have this - this life, this love. This      family    .

 Just as he’s put the main course into a low oven to keep warm, the door opens just in time for him to enter the hallway, and then Tony gets pulled into a embrace and lifted off his feet for a moment.  He holds on tight, then he pulls Clint down for a proper kiss to welcome him home.

 “Hey there.”

 “Hey yourself.”

 The two of them take their time in greeting each other, and despite being apart for only about a week, it feels like they haven’t seen each other in forever. And it’s their anniversary, for fuck’s sake. They’re allowed to be as sappy as they damn well please - at least until Lucky interrupts them because he’s tired of waiting and jumps up on Clint until he’s slobbered all over his face and happily demands cuddles right then and there.

 Dropping his duffle bag to the floor, Clint asks Tony what he would like to eat and it causes him to smile knowingly.

 “Can I cook for you?” he asks, and Clint looks at him, blinking.

 “Right now? I mean… Don’t take this the wrong way Babe but is that… Safe? We can just order something in if you want.”

 “Trick question, I already did. Well, I had help. So it won’t send us into the hospital if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

 “Wait, you-” Clint steps closer to him, gently placing his hands on Tony’s upper arms as he smiles at him. There is something soft in his eyes, and Tony falls in love all over again.

 “You made an effort to cook something for today even though you almost never do?”

 “Yeah, I- I wanted to do something nice for today, and I didn’t know when you’d be home so I didn’t book anything. Besides, you cook and bake all the time for us, for      me    , and well. I appreciate that a lot and I just wanted to do this for you. I had help, but yes. Come on!” He pulls him into the dining room, which he’d actually decorated. Nothing big, just a few candles and a bouquet of flowers but it does look nice.

 On the table, there is a large bottle of Asgardian mead, a gift for them that Thor left before he went to spend the weekend with Jane in New Mexico.  It’s strong, and more than even the two of them can finish in one evening. But it’s good, and they know it.

 The dinner is relaxed as always, and they enjoy each others company and the conversations - anything and everything they can talk about, and while Clint fills him in on the latest SHIELD gossip and rumors, some of which leave Tony laughing hard enough that he almost chokes on his mead, he tells him what has been going on back home, including the first dinner mishap and how their friends had saved his ass.

 In the meantime, Lucky has made himself comfortable under the table, chewing on one of his giant treats.

 They’re just starting on the main course - steaks with garlic potato casserole and roasted asparagus, when Clint says,

 “This is really good, Tony. Thank you. For the effort and for doing this.” He smiles, and reaches over with one hand, which he happily takes and squeezes back.

 “I’m glad you like it. And it makes me think that I should do this more often, since, well, you do it all the time. Seems fair to do my part, you know.”

 “You do other things all the time. It’s just… Both of us do different things, and that’s okay with me. I like to cook, you build and fix stuff.” He shrugs. “Love languages and all that.”

 A while ago, they’d talked about that for a bit, and it’s true. They show their love and affection in different ways sometimes, and that’s okay - they know and recognize these things by now, and it only helps them understand each other better.

 “Well, cooking is kinda fun.” Tony says then, and a big smile spreads all over Clint’s face.

 “We could do that together if you like. I could teach you and we could try new recipes!” He’s clearly excited about that, in this familiar and almost childlike way of his, and it’s all Tony can do to agree. God, he loves this man so much.

 By the time dessert is on the table, they share that and a pot of coffee and have moved their seats even closer together, ankles hooked around each other.

 “Oh hey, I’ve got a surprise for you, too.” Clint says then, as if he just remembered but he pulls and envelope from somewhere on his person which makes it clear he’s been waiting. The envelope is thick and slightly off-white - clearly good quality paper. Curiously, Tony opens it up.

 There is a card, and it looks handmade. Sturdy, structured paper, and two birds on the front - parrots on a tropical island.

 On the inside, there are just a few words written, in Clint’s familiar large scrawl, but it makes him smile widely.

     ‘Voucher for two weeks vacation on Bora Bora. All responsibilities back home are covered’     it says, followed by a time frame,       ‘Happy anniversary. I love you’    and a lopsidedly drawn heart.

 “Aw, that’s great! Thank you. How did you manage that all is covered?” Tony asks, beaming at Clint - it’s been too long since they actually had any time off without being interrupted via The End Of The World. And they’re in desperate need of a break and some alone time.

 Clint just grins. “Magic and good friends.” he says ominously, and leans close to Tony, pulling him into a soft kiss as he runs one hand through his dark hair.

 Once they break apart, Tony takes both of Clint’s hands in this, and despite being happy and content he looks a little bit nervous - there is no need to, he knows, but still. Clint seems to catch on to it, looking at him with his head crooked slightly to the side.

 “So, uh, dinner wasn’t the only surprise I had for tonight.” Tony says, and takes a deep breath.

 “This is kinda ridiculous, given for how long we’ve been together already and especially how that happened, but. I was wondering, would you like to marry me agan? Sober and properly this time?”

 The answer comes almost instantly, in the form of another long kiss and an enthusiastic “Yes, of course!”

 It takes them a while to let go of each other again. But they happily continue drinking coffee and eating chocolate mousse, simply enjoying the time together.

 “Same day?” Clint asks, pragmatic as always - neither of them is great at remembering important dates - two different wedding anniversaries would be too much for people like them who were to forget their own birthdays if it wasn’t for JARVIS and teammates who know them too well.

 “Yes, please. Everything else would just call for a disaster.”

 “It would. And hey, we can avoid Fake Elvis this time!”

 Tony laughs out loud. “I’m sure he will be heartbroken.”

 “Oh well.” Clint shrugs, grinning. “He’ll live.”

 *+~

     Prompt No. 54: “Can I cook for you?”  

[vaguekiwi]

Under a Violet Rain: Chapter 4

Silk Curtains

Read on AO3

Chapter Warnings: Brief non-con (about a thousand words in, it's a dream, all in italics, and separated by break lines if you want to skip/skim.) Some symptoms of anxiety/long-term stress.

Full Text Below:

It took three full days for Peter to be satisfied with the contract Tony’s scribes produced. Being in his uncle’s office with Tony and a handful of aides from Ferrum left Peter feeling drained and uneasy. It didn’t help that Peter felt so alone; for every inch he eked out for himself, Tony was able to negotiate a mile. And Peter wasn’t stupid, at the end of the day all of this was given to him by his -

By his fiancé.

God.

If Tony really wanted to, he could flaunt some steel and put an end to any of Peter’s whims. But it seemed to satisfy the man to let Peter retain just a bit of control. So while Peter struggled to show he was smart enough to keep up with legal jargon, Tony sat on the other end of the desk and pulled the strings and dictated what was finally written down, all the while his own men whispering in his ear. No one was on Peter’s side, that was a reality etching itself into his chest and exhausting his stamina.

The long days meant Peter didn’t get back to his nook in the library until late the night the contract had been finalised. He was surprised to mount the steps and find Bruce there, mulling over two books and glancing repeatedly out the window.

“Still studying the rain?”

Bruce jumped but smiled warmly when he recognised Peter. “I probably seem like an idiot now,” Bruce laughed, “but I don’t suppose the Prince of Arachne has any light to shed on the subject.”

Peter shook his head and sat down, pulling his own stack of books and quills from underneath the bench. “My uncle used to say there’s no shedding light on the whims of dark clouds,” he said. Bruce smiled at that, seeming to repeat the phrase in his head, mulling it over.

“That’s not a bad answer,” he conceded.

“It was never quite good enough for me,” Peter answered and Bruce nodded at that too, a silent claim to understanding, a mental kinship between them.

“Did Tony come around to your terms?”

“The ones that mattered,” Peter admitted, wondering how much he should say about Tony around this man. But Bruce didn’t press the subject of the man in the castle.

Instead he asked, “how are you - umm - holding up, with everything that’s happened?”

Peter’s tongue lodged in his throat and he hesitated, shocked that anyone form Ferrum would bother to ask this question. He must have looked offended because Bruce hastily added, “I don’t mean to pry, it’s just - our invasion was so fast. So I was thinking, in just a couple months you’ve lost your family, your country, probably some friends.”

“Right,” Peter nodded and swallowed. He thought of his pillow, always damp in the morning where his cheek had been. And the negotiations of the past couple days, how flushed and ill he felt through it all. But what was he supposed to do? Tell this - this foreigner - this friend of Tony’s - I’m crying myself to sleep at night and constantly think I’m going to throw up but mostly I’m fine.

No, that wasn’t an option.

“It’s been as hard as you would expect,” Peter answered evasively. Lit by a dozen candles and the moon outside, the light shifted in the library and Peter turned his eyes out the window. It was drizzling, but he couldn’t tell what colour it was. Thinking about his uncle and his lost kingdom, the power he had never appreciated when he’d had it, Peter felt grief climbing in his throat. For a moment he cursed Bruce’s presence, because otherwise he would have felt comfortable weeping alone in the library. But then, Bruce had as much right as anyone else to be there. Bruce was the first person to ask of Peter’s welfare, something had to be said for that.

“Peter?”

Bruce sounded genuinely concerned, and that made everything worse somehow.

“I’m sorry,” Peter stood up sharply, throwing his books away in haste, “I’m just very tired, I’m going to bed.”

He didn’t say goodnight as he hurried back down the steps. Bruce didn’t call after him. He sprinted between the library and the castle and to his rooms, slamming the door shut and collapsing onto his bed.

Only then did he see the citrine splotches on his sleeves, it was a yellow rain. That always felt strange to Peter, it made the world feel tired and pallid. But Michelle had loved yellow rains - yellow and black. She always thought black was nice because if there were unsavoury or mixed stains on their clothes, they could use black to blot it out.

Peter could imagine the black of her armour and the damp spots, the violet rain had not shown up but the red of blood was thicker than sweat or water. Blood stained different from rain. There had been blood on her stomach and trickling down her temple. A wound to the gut must have been incredibly painful, but still she used her final moments to get to Peter.

Had his uncle been in pain?

Peter didn’t know; he hadn’t been there. Uncle Benjamin had left to negotiate peace, armed with an offer to let Tony keep the half of the country he had already sieged. The king had just wanted Arachne, the remainder of it at that point, to be left in peace. It was Peter’s understanding that his uncle had died that day; seeking an end to what he deemed senseless violence.

Peter sniffled and put a hand over his mouth to smother his sob, not wanting to cry too loudly. He couldn’t let this become a habit. It would not do to let himself cry at night because soon even the bedroom would not be his alone.

—

Peter cried out and arched his back to seek a relief that didn’t come. Tony’s mouth stifled his shriek of pain as the man pushed in merciless, hard, too fast.

“Plea -!” Peter whined and panted for breath, “s-slow down,” Tony’s grip on his hips just became tighter, pressing splotchy bruises into his thighs.

“Don’t deny me what’s mine,” Tony whispered against his neck and bit down until Peter sobbed, “you belong to me, right? In sickness and health. To love, cherish, and obey?”

Peter ached and shuddered but didn’t argue. He swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded.

“Yes,” he whimpered.

“Good. Now shut up and let me finish.”

—

Peter woke up feeling cold and sick, dawn slanting through silk curtains he hadn’t bothered to draw. The nausea wasn’t new; the nightmare was. Peter swung his legs over the bed, chest heaving for air. He winced as clenched muscles loosened and his body untangled itself from the bed.

He changed as quickly as he could because of the cold. Peter hesitated with the closet door open, his eyes darted to the window and a cloudless sky. Then he picked out a woollen grey cardigan and drew it tight around his shoulders. Ned and Michelle had bought it for him a few years ago. Putting it on now felt cosy and soft, and it had a smell that he couldn’t place - the smell that his home was meant to have, maybe.

Peter went sluggishly to breakfast. Tony was halfway done when he arrived, and didn’t say anything when Peter entered. Peter took his seat, thinking about the Tony in his dream. It felt like there was a new current of energy between them, something unfamiliar and frightening. What was that, fear? Did Tony feel it too?

“Peter?”

Peter tore his eyes from his plate to look at Tony, whose eyebrows were raised. Peter didn’t like that look, the curiosity without any of the anger or ferocity. It felt too playful for such a monster.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, “what did you say?”

Tony’s cheeks fluttered, half a smile.

“I asked how you slept … I take it not well?”

“Looking forward to keeping me up all night?” Peter snapped and Tony’s eyebrows flew down, drawing together tightly.

“I’m sorry?”

Peter’s head throbbed, a sharp pulse right behind his eyes that made them water.

“I’m sorry - I didn’t - I just meant -” Peter’s voice faltered in his throat.

“Are you feeling ill?” Tony asked, ostensibly offering a way out, an explanation for such an inappropriate outburst. But Peter just shook his head.

“No, I’m sorry I just - uhmm …” Peter felt heat flushing his cheeks even though he had nothing to apologise for between the two of them, “could I go into the city today?” He blurted out.

The request must have caught Tony off guard, because he ducked his chin a little bit to focus on his plate.

“Into the city,” he repeated, he drank a big gulp of coffee, “for what?”

So I can breathe! Peter wanted to gasp but he just said, “I think it would be good for me to … exercise a bit more.”

Tony didn’t seem satisfied with that, he sat back and folded his hands in consideration. Peter supposed he couldn’t blame him, it was a flimsy justification and there were plenty of potential risks, with Tony not knowing what was going on in Peter’s head these days.

Peter was resigning himself to a day of feverish writing in the library - anything to get his energy out - when Tony clapped and stood: “okay, you can go.” Tony held his hand out and Peter took it, letting Tony pull him to his feet. He tried to ignore the way touching Tony’s hand made his palm flare and prickle in pain. Tony steadied him and looked straight into his eyes, almost like a challenge to see if Peter would look away.

“You want to get out for a while, away from me? Fine, I understand.”

Peter’s protests faltered on his lips when Tony went on, “but you’ll bring one of my men with you as an escort.”

Peter nodded hurriedly, an elation setting into the back of his head at the freedom of the day ahead. Surely once he was out of Tony’s presence, once his stomach wasn’t coiled at every turned corner, surely he would feel better then.

Peter was about to suggest maybe Bruce could come with him but Tony was already waving to someone at the door.

“Beck, can you accompany Peter?”

Peter’s eyes flickered to the blue-eyed soldier; he was with Tony often. Had been at the library a few days ago and often in the office. He was someone Tony trusted. Beck inclined his head in agreement, and turned his torso slightly to face Peter.

“Have fun, Prince Peter.” Tony’s hand squeezed his shoulder a bit too tightly, “don’t do something you’ll regret.”