#two face only kidnaps Bruce to make his idiot take a break/get away from his crazy kids

[mkarchin713]

When Two Face finds out that the bats are suspicious of Danny solely because he’s helping the poor kid out, he decides to call his bestie/secret crush Bruce to vent.

….

Harvey: -I mean seriously Bruce, you adopt a kid and no one even blinks anymore, I do it and now everyone thinks the kids a future rogue.

Two Face: Yeah, Harvey won’t even let me have Danny restock the goons fridge, he is so paranoid it will turn into a slippery into villainy.

Harvey: Danny is too wholesome and sweet for crime Two Face, the kid got a job for the sole purpose of paying rent that we don’t charge him.

Bruce: then what do you do with the money?

Two Face: we set up a college fund for the kid. He’s damn smart Brucie, ya should have seen him fix that espresso machine. Hell one morning we woke up to him elbow deep in the car and now it doesn’t make that erk-erk noise anymore

Harvey: I always thought it was more of an eek-erk than an erk-erk

Two Face: oh don’t you dare start on that again Harv, we flipped a coin and I was right, just accept it.

Bruce: how is this my life.

Coffee-scented kisses

Tim fell in love with a barista. At first he had wondered if it was simply a mistake, to transfer his love for coffee to the person who produced it, but slowly he realized it was a little more than that.

Danny, the new barista, didn't really criticize him when he ordered 8 coffees a day, as long as he was on shift. He also didn't ask him about his health insurance every time he ordered Death Wish, and even made sure to make small talk every time he delivered his coffee.

It had only been a few days since he was hired but Tim fell in love with his small talk, his care, and of course, his coffee.

Then, when Danny was suspected of working with Two Face he was heartbroken. The boy was probably innocent, but he couldn't get out of his head that nothing in Gotham was simple, everyone kept secrets, including himself. So he made up his mind to stay away from Danny, for his sake.

Danny, for his part, was Harvey Dent's assistant and a part-time barista, he just wanted to distract himself and Harvey was strangely sympathetic after telling him about running away from home. Kind of like a guy you stay with during the vacations, but more permanent.

The halfa started to worry when the cute boy from the cafe stopped coming, maybe he was in danger? Danny couldn't help but worry, but when his coworkers told him Tim was coming in on other shifts he wondered if the boy was avoiding him.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompt no 31 (part 7)

Danny was having a rough time. His world had been destroyed by his idiot parents and now not only is he left to grieve almost everyone he loved alone, he was deaged to a small child and was forced to take care of a de-aged infant Ellie!

He never changed a diaper before, and while he's still mostly a fourteen year old mentally hewas mentally regressing at a rapid pace due to whatever Vlad shot them with before he died. Ellie is entirely a baby, not a thought behind those icy blue eyes. It was only a matter of time before he started acting his age whether he liked it or not, he needed to find safety for the both of them before that point or else they would be stuck running around the crime capital of the world at night as a toddler and a baby respectively. Even if their powers weren't shorted out they were going to get kidnapped.

So when he saw one of those bat people he only hesitated for a moment before he ran up to them and declared that they were his new Mommy. The bat lady was dressed all in black with nothing showing, the only thing that really stood out was the yellow bat symbol on her chest. She seemed to panic to a bit, trying to persuade him to go home.

He looked up at her with his big watery blue eyes, "But you are my home mommy. Don't you want us?" He asked, chin wabbling as he raised baby Dani up near his face, hoping thier combined cuteness would break her resolve.

It seemed to almost work but someone jumped down to the ally they were in and interrupted. A lady in purple said something about him, "Fitting the profile" but Dannys mind was gone at that point, replaced with the mind of a child. One that was adamant that the vigilante was his mom.

Unbeknownst to Danny, Oracle had heard everything from the beginning and patched the others through. The whole chat was in chaos trying to figure out who this kid was and how in the world someone mistook Cass in costume as thier mother.

Bruce thought raising kids and teenagers was hard, but this toddler got into everything! They kept pulling him away from the columnar trees that he insisted on trying to climb only for him to somehow get almost to the top once before crying his heart out. Someone had to get a ladder and get him down. At least he never tried to climb the tree again.

Another time he somehow got ahold of a jar of peanut butter and Bruce watched the kid shove his fist into it and lick his hand clean before repeating the process.

The baby was a saint in comparison. She didn't do much except cry. Cass had gone somewhere out of the city (probably to avoid this situation) and the boy has not taken it well. Alfred, bless him, has kept the child under control ever time he needed to while making it look easy. Bruce was jealous.

Bruce gets called dad two weeks in and bluescreens for a solid five minutes.

[ships-bynoa]

The Titans are almost back, bitches. aka 3x06

Guys, literally every time the titans are together-or even paired up-the episode gets ten times better, but in 6 episodes there is simply not enough Kory and Gar. I can easily forget that when I’m basking in the episode they are in, especially when they’re giving us family dynamics.

Kory:

“You’re not mad that I left. You’re mad I came back.” Kory’s face tells us Blackfire is right on the money, and who would know her better than her sister?

So, Kory, oh boy. Our girl is on edge. She is slowly unraveling and is super vulnerable and raw with Kom around and little sister is going to exploit it and her guilt, which I think she’s carrying a lot of. So far their dynamic has been fascinating because there’s so much to read between them and so many accusations being flung back and forth, from both. From Kory; you sense guilt and even contempt and from Kom there’s envy and resentment, but also there’s a sense of idealization for her older sister, too, which of course, with younger siblings, there always is an element of that. And as an older sibling, there is always an unspoken and sometimes spoken responsibility placed on them for their younger siblings. Parents often don’t realize it, but they can create a lot of tension within siblingships by assigning roles.

They remember home and family very differently, which is often the case, too. Kom was often thrown in the pit and to that, Kory attributes her sister’s constant rebellion as the reason, and yet, Kory herself was a bit of a rule breaker, sleeping with her guard, Fiddei.

Kory was being suffocated by the laws and customs of her home planet; one could say she rebelled by going on a mission, to escape her duties. Home did neither of them any favors because while one rebelled because she did not fit in, the one who did fit in was dying inside, surrounded by little robots and becoming one herself. Being told what to eat, wear and who to love or be friends with is yikes.

I was thinking Kom began her game of manipulation in the bunker, but she really started before that when she sent Fiddei to bring Kory home when she probably intended to kill him all along. After all she would’ve castrated him if she’d had the chance to for sleeping with Kory in the first place. Shortly after Fiddei’s death, Kory flamed out. No powers. Emotionally wrung out from the news her family was dead and now the culprit is here. These two know each other very well and know exactly how to get underneath each other’s skin. Right now Kom is getting underneath Kory’s and our girl is losing patience fast. 

I’m wondering when exactly Dick will tune into Kory’s anxiety-ridden state and step in to support.

Ultimately, I just want to see what truly happened to the girls on their planet and how we have the versions we have now. Like, Kory said to Rachel, “No one is born good or bad, we are defined by our choices.” I get the feeling Kory has given Kom so many chances to make a different choice and has become disillusioned, meanwhile Kom believes nothing she does will give her the respect she feels she deserves anyway, so she may as well blow shit up, figuratively and literally. At least then she’ll have Kory’s attention.

Gar: 

Gar losing it on Dick was so cathartic and yet he could’ve gone much further, considering Dick abandoned him last season to go jail and hallucinate Bruce. It ultimately led to Gar (and Conner) being kidnapped and experimented on by Mercy. It’s actually all the adults fault this happened, but as the leader promoting his family everywhere he goes, he needs to keep his eye on the ball. He would know if he spent five minutes at home with them that Gar is struggling. Last season Gar was #OperationSaveTitans and this season he’s #ThisFamilyIsDying. He’s doing what the adults should be doing, or at least leading the charge on it. He’s the glue, but who will hold him together?

He’s carrying too much emotional responsibility and Dick’s dismissal, because he is fully locked into Gotham and being Batman, makes me mad. Get your head in the game, Grayson. Gotham is going to eat your family while you retread the nostalgic steps of your past.

We all know Dick’s not good at expressing himself emotionally, though he’s usually forced to express something when talking to or being confronted by Kory, so I was proud of him for giving Gar the floor to speak. I just wish Gar spoke about himself, but then again, he needs more time and consistent offers to be heard. I’m happy Dick followed up the conversation up with a bonding/training session. There was definitely pride in Dick’s face because Gar really has come a long way in this group, but he needs MORE SCREEN TIME. I’d like to see the two of them out in the field together the way we’ve seen Kory this season with Gar and Conner. 

I wonder if Gar losing control is the start of all his trauma bubbling up to the surface, will being in Gotham, hunting down a friend be too much?

As a side, has the CGI tiger face gotten worse?

Kom (and Conner):

First thing’s first, what music are we thinking Kom listens to? Probably the kind of music she can break your tailbone to, like, Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole and Jay Z, or Prince, Jimmy Hendrix, Stevie Nicks and Led Zeppelin? Rihanna?

Kom is absolutely a villain this season and if she isn’t, what a waste that’ll be. A mastermind at mind games (see, her picking up the chess piece), who is going to drum up Kory’s paranoia and anxiety around her being there. Trying to kill her suspicion by guilt tripping her while simultaneously being a do good-er to the group, feigning interest in helping the Titans to earn her way in, a tip from our boy, Conner.

She says she wants acceptance and I believe that’s absolutely true, but she doesn’t know how to get that without using power, so she’ll continue to covet acceptance through and with power because according to Kory, she’s always been a climber. Add to that, being born the cursed child and the only royal member born without the gift of fire, something that differentiates them from the common folk, being too frail to participate in the same games as Kory, having a speech therapist be her only friend while being the object of ridicule and you have a villain origin story nicely set up.

I really enjoyed Conner and Kom’s exchange. The boy lit up when he spoke about seeing his family happy and it made me light up. He’s so genuine and has a big heart and Kom is going to take advantage of it, that’s not to say she won’t develop real feelings for him, but she can like him and still use him.

Conner’s “you have to earn your way into the family,” is perhaps an internal and personal struggle he has from sharing blood with Luthor. I think it may come from an insecure place because he was made a titan as soon as he woke up and no one questioned it, but as he’s only half of superman, he’s constantly trying to prove his usefulness for good, which losing Hank has rocked, leaving him vulnerable to Kom’s recognition for his otherness. Their otherness.

She gave us insight into her mind, but also she has likely seized an opportunity to use the vulnerability against Conner and to her favor by making him her kindred. Outcasts. Will she gain influence over him? He’s still young and learning, and trusting, too.

Her interest in him felt layered, ignoring the ugly customs of sex servants, she was also observing Kory’s relationships and ranking them in her sister’s life. Her being able to determine who may have Kory’s interest (which Kory gave away with her vulnerable display of worry over Dick’s welfare in front of Kom) will surely come into play at some point, right? After all, Kom did kill Kory’s last lover/royal guard. This may be me projecting. LOL.

Romantically, I’m waiting to see how they play it before I decide if I like it or not, but so far, they have a nice chemistry. Friendly.

Dick (and Barbara) :

What a lovable dumb ass. 

I was so happy Kory lost it on him and called him on his lone ranger shit, at least when it’s her, even when he’s being an idiot, he’s still listening. “Let’s go.” and I thought it was hilarious that he tried explaining himself, but when Gar called him out, he got all huffy with, “Excuse me, young man.”

Gar asking Kory not to have words with Barbara over Dick getting shot was so funny because Dick’s face seemed to ask the same when she asked how it happened. We love a protective Kory. I’ll be looking at him when it’s his turn to reciprocate.

I don’t like him dismissing their concerns about his personal safety and how it affects them, it’s like he’s learned nothing after running off alone to battle Trigon, or rather has unlearned his lessons of S2. I’d like to see some more permanent emotional growth from him by this season’s end. In his current state, he’s not an exuding leader. He can’t be when he’s still wrapped up in Bruce and all things Gotham. He’s not tuned into Kory’s anxiety, or Conner’s grief and insecurity, or Gar’s emotional burden. 

He’s started making it up to him, but he has much to do in taking Gar’s concerns and emotional needs seriously.

I’m not even going to try and work out the timeline between Barbara and Dick and Dick and old Titans in San Fran and S1. But it doesn’t bode well that Dick’s dream with Barbara ended in a nightmare. 

I wish they’d never did the whole Dick and Dawn relationship in S2 because they’re basically repeating some of the beats in showing us how they don’t work as a couple, only his relationship with Babs makes a lot more sense even though I don't care. Dick has unfinished business with that relationship, Bruce and Gotham and I can only hope he’s wrapped it up for good by this season’s end. I want to see relaxed, smiling and happy Dick in THE PRESENT. I still Babs will be the one to notice and point out Dick's feelings for Kory.

Barbara (outside of Dick) is being downplayed a little, no? Dismissing Dick’s suspicions about Jason when he arrived, showing no knowledge of Jason’s visits to Crane and then taking the bait and moving Crane after he got a light beat down. A commissioner who was also a very capable vigilante is tricked by a recording and goes to meet “Bruce” on her own. I really enjoyed that she could hold her own and the fight scene was really good, but it was a bit baffling that she fell for that ruse. So far, she’s not entirely good at her job.

Dick’s a distraction in his own right and her feelings clearly get in the way, which is why she keeps asking him to leave the precinct and Gotham; because she’s pining a fantasy and he’s ruining it. Lastly, I really like the way Savannah plays Barbara.

Why’d they do that to Tim?? :(

Overall, it was a better episode and I enjoyed it more than latter episodes, but they’re not quite there yet for me. I’m  still waiting for Team Titans.

[itsmeevie01]

A Moment in Time- Ch 11

MASTERPOST

wow, this took a while! in all honesty? it was the effort it took to get back inside Tim's head. moving on, please check the A/N at the end, for the rest of the going ons and comments on the...cannon compliance. or lack of, therefore. a warning? I threw cannon out the window before I started. oh! and this ch mentions kind of vague suicide? so, if that's a trigger, skip the headlines about Adrien. (don't worry, I haven't killed him..yet)

While Marinette was giving Adrien a heart attack, across the ocean, the girl was also giving Tim Drake one.

It had been almost 24 hours since he had heard from the very prompt Marinette. After their last email, he had gone to bed. When he had woken up the next day, he had lunged for his computer only to find that his inbox sat empty. When he had checked it again after his first coffee, Tim was again disappointed.

After that, he had set his inbox to notify him if something from his friend came in.

Now, as he sat in his car after work, Tim anxiously hovered his finger over the email icon. He had stayed late to distract himself and had fallen asleep at his desk.  It was 11 at night, and his phone had gone off with a call from Alfred. The butler had been trying to get in contact with him, concerned that he had been kidnapped again.

Hesitantly, Tim thumbed his way into the drafts of his email and looked over the top one.

 From: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

To: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

Marinette,

I apologize if you feel that I have overstepped in the past 24 hours. I truly did not intend to find out from Jason. I had intended to ask you when you came for the Gala.

I know that we usually average 2-3 emails a day, but I wanted to give you some space to process if you needed.

I look forward to you joining us in Gotham, in a few weeks. I know that with all that is going on with Hawkmoth, you must be relieved to leave the city for some time. Alfred will probably reach out, but I was wondering if there was anything we could do to make your stay more enjoyable? Times around the galas are always a bit hectic, and I don’t want to make your life any more difficult. On another side note, will you be traveling alone? International travel can be quite hectic, especially if you are flying somewhere new.

It turns out that my father’s company likes to throw curveballs, and I will be flying to Paris in the next week. If you have time, maybe we could sit down and talk?

I was reading back through our emails and realized that you may not have heard. Jason and Gina have left on some sort of adventure. The only thing that they said was that we should start checking Italian news. Do you have any idea what that may be about?

I hope to hear from you soon.

-Tim

P.S. is the offer for the super coffee recipes still open? Those coffees are sounding more and more appealing.

After hesitating one more time, Tim hit send and watched as the message disappeared from his screen. With a sigh, the teen turned his car on, and made his way out onto the late-night streets of Gotham.

When he rolled out of bed the next morning, Tim blindly reached for his phone. Before he could open his email and look for a message from Marinette, a notification caught his attention.

ITALIAN GANG EXPOSED AS ROOT OF GOTHAM DRUG ISSUE

Rolling his eyes, Tim opened that headline. There the story went into more detail and the young CEO was able to see his older brother’s fingerprints all over the discovery. At the end, it mentioned two ‘biker vigilantes’ who had ridden through town and mostly done what they could to defend those who needed help. The author noted that the duo was gone by the time the gang had been brought to justice. It was rumored that they had been the ones to take the gang down.

With a roll of his eyes, Tim sent Jason a screenshot of the story and a good job, before flipping to his email.

There, sitting at the top of his inbox was…nothing from Marinette. A frown worked its way onto Tim’s face as he refreshed his email again. When nothing came up, he moved to his computer. As he navigated to the French news site he had bookmarked Tim reminded himself that there were heroes in Paris and that there was nothing to worry about.

He quickly revised the thought as he looked at the top headline.

ADRIEN AGRESTE MISSING.

The next one read very similarly.

GABRIEL AGRESTE CLAIMS SON RAN AWAY! IS HE HIDING THE INNER BEGINNINGS OF SCANDAL?

With a click, Tim opened another news site based in Paris.

A MOTHER’S SUICIDE. A SON’S DISAPPEARANCE. A FATHER’S ABUSIVE NATURE. AN UNFILTERED LOOK AT THE AGRESTE HOUSEHOLD FROM AN INSIDE SOURCE.

Worry settled in the pit of Tim’s stomach. If there were legitimate news sources running this kind of thing, something must be going on. Marinette hadn’t mentioned anything about the boy, and most likely they weren’t friends. Hell, they probably didn’t even know the other existed. He tried to brush off the headlines as the media overdramatizing things again. However, his gut just wouldn’t let him.

With a sigh, Tim opened a separate tab and set up his computer desk for the long haul. He was going to dig into the Agreste kid. After he checked on Marinette.

It had been a lot easier to find what he was looking for than he expected. Within the first hour, Tim had tracked down the people Adrien was close to because of his father and moved onto the boy’s school friends. When he had pulled up the school the missing teen attended, Tim froze.

It was the same Lycée that Marinette attended.

In a flurry of typing, Tim pulled up the school records. There was Marinette. A few familiar faces. And then…there! in the same class was the missing blonde boy. As the young vigilante stared at the class roster, Tim felt his stomach sink. Adrien and Marinette were in the same class.

While Bruce had shrugged off the worry that Tim had, the teen knew that he had a valid concern. There was a sinking in his gut, a tightness that he couldn’t explain. All Tim knew was that this connection between Adrien Agreste and Marinette was going to change the situation in Paris, drastically.

It was at three in the morning when Tim’s email box binged.

The teen’s head was resting on the keys, his arms slack at his sides. On the screen, where the cursor was blinking a line of unintelligible letters was running. As the bing went off again, louder, and Tim jerked up in surprise and blinked owlishly at the screen.

He had begged off patrol in favor of looking into a ‘case’. He had spent the entire evening camped out at his desk digging further into all things Paris. On one window, he had the files he was compiling on the names that kept coming up, while in another he monitored three different news sites known to report on Akumas. In one of the windows that was hidden behind piles of rabbit holes, was a file with one line typed

         MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG

As understanding ran over his face, Tim opened a new window and clicked into his email. There, waiting for him at the top of the inbox was an email from Marinette. 

From: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

To: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

Tim,

 I am so sorry that I disappeared! One of my friends had a family emergency and I have been spending time with him helping with the fine details.

I appreciate the apology, but I can’t really blame you when Jason was being an idiot. It feels good to know that you now understand why and how Jason and I know each other. As for my older brother, last I heard, he was coming back to Paris on his way to Germany. He promised to be back in Gotham in time for the annual Holiday Gala.

You mentioned that you were coming to Paris before the Gala? Is everything ok? I would enjoy meeting you if there is time. Of course, much of my schedule will be revolving around finals, so maybe an ice cream break would be in order? Let me know when you arrive, and we can make plans!

That reminds me, I won't be on my computer much and I've been enjoying talking with you. If you want, you can text me at XX-XXX-XXXX-XX.

Have a good day,

~Marinette

P.S. I was going to send you the coffee recipes, but it would be better if I gave them to you in person!

Tension ran out of Tim’s shoulders as he reread the email. Marinette was ok, she didn’t hate him. but, as the teen reread his friend's (were they friends?) email, he realized that there was something off with her email. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but the young vigilante chalked it up to his exhaustion.

With a sleepy smile, Tim clicked out of his email and stood from the desk. A moment later, he was tumbling into bed. For once, he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

As Bruce Wayne climbed the stairs to the upper levels of the Manor, his eyes caught on a computer bag that had been left in a nook off the stairs. With a small smile, the billionaire picked up the bag and collected the notes that had been left from whenever Tim had last worked there. it was late, and the teen had begged off patrol tonight to work on his own projects in preparation for his trip to Paris. At this time in the early morning, it would be hit or miss whether he would still be awake. Many times, when Bruce would check on Tim, the teen was passed out at his desk or on his bed surrounded with projects.

Bruce knew that Tim was working himself to the bone before his trip to Paris. The teen had dug into the supervillain problem that Jared Stone’s niece had mentioned to him. Bruce really hoped that Tim hadn’t put together that Jason was related to the girl, because that could cause problems within the family. Not because of the actual connection, but the secrecy that he and Jason had used to handle it.

With sending Tim to Paris there was a certain media risk. The only reason that Bruce was willing to risk the media was the fact that his son was the most informed on the supervillain situation. That, and there was actual clean-up work that needed to be done after finding corruption in their Parisian office.

As the billionaire cracked open Tim’s door, a smile crossed the man’s face. The teen was curled up in bed, his desk cluttered with work, his computer still running. His shoes were kicked off to the side, and his skateboard was leaning against the wall by the closet door. At the end of the bed was his carry-on, open and partially packed. At the top of the bag, just visible from the door was a box that had been wrapped. In Tim’s (surprisingly elegant) script was the name ‘Marinette’. Bruce studied the box for a moment, before shaking his head and nothing to ask Tim in the morning.

Leaving the door cracked, Bruce stepped into the space and put his son’s bag and cacophony of papers on the top of his dresser, where he would look when it was time for him to pack his bags in the morning. With one last glance at the sleeping teen, Bruce closed the door to let the boy sleep.

Skater Tim? Skater Tim.

hiiiiiiiii! I'm back! what did you think of the look back into Gotham? I wanted to do something that would look at things from outside the little bubble of Mari and Tim, so we got some Bruce time. am I keeping Bruce as a good dad? yes, I am. I think that *technically* Tim didn't get adopted (I looked it up, but dudes, I got every version of yes and no out there. if ANYONE KNOWS FOR SURE, LET ME KNOW.). ANYWAYS I decided that I was throwing out any and all cannon early on, so if you know what the official version is, lmk, but it's really only so that I have references to work off of for character references.

now that we are expanding the miracusquad, should Tim get a Miraculous? which one? also, the reason that Mari is kinda...distant, is because she is planning on how to kick hawkmoth's ass.

Luka is getting his miraculous soon! will I actually follow cannon for once? Nobody knows!

tag list!  @moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh @m0chick0furan @susiej1118 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @sassakitty @remy-289 @solangelo252 @corporeal-terrestrial @woe-is-me0�� @toodaloo-kangaroo

[elwenyere]

A Very Small Grease Fire (and Other Human Disasters)

(Thanksgiving ficlet for the Stony and Avengers fam; also on AO3)

The Avengers didn’t have the best track record with Thanksgiving. The first time the dinner had ended in disaster, it had been Steve’s fault. One rainy fall Sunday, just months after the Battle of New York, Steve had been picking at a bowl of mint-chip ice cream, feeling tired of getting looks of sympathy about the holidays and absolutely exhausted by feeling sorry for himself. If Bruce and Clint hadn’t chosen that particular afternoon to ask him whether there was anything special he wanted for Thanksgiving – raising the question with just enough gentleness to make Steve’s jaw tighten – he probably would have said, “I’m a sweet potatoes guy” and left it at that.

Instead, Steve had been seized by a spirit of mischief. Putting on his most morose poker face, he had proceeded to invent a series of Depression-era dishes, from “Hoover Rolls” to “Poor Man’s Potatoes,” the recipes for which he concocted out of the blandest ingredients he could imagine. By the time he was in the process of describing his third Crisco-based dessert, Steve was sure he had gone far enough to reveal the joke; but Bruce and Clint had continued nodding encouragingly and jotting down notes.

The results had been borderline inedible. And even though the sight of Tony doubled over with laughter when Steve finally fessed up had thawed out a part of his heart he hadn’t even known was still on ice, the experience of eating a holiday dinner in which half the dishes tasted like over-starched socks forced even Steve to admit that the prank had been a bit of a Pyrrhic victory.

The second time…well, Steve would have said the second time was his fault too – though he supposed the rest of the team would blame the extremists who tried to kidnap the governor. Clint had just started basting the turkey when the “Assemble” alarm went off, and the team had to pile in the Quinjet to deal with a hostage situation at the capitol. It should have been an easy job – in and out with plenty of time to take the butter for the piecrust out of the freezer – but then one of the extremists had pulled the pin on a grenade just yards away from a state senator’s eight-year-old son, and four hours later Steve was waking up in the burn unit at Walter Reed hospital with the anguished sound of someone shouting his name still ringing in his ears.

“You fucking idiot,” the same voice had greeted him, and Steve looked up to see Tony sitting by his bed, the lines around his eyes drawn tight over a surgical mask. “You’re supposed to be a tactical genius, and you haven’t learned a single new method for containing explosives since basic training in 1943? I’m going to equip your suit with goddamn ballistic plates.”

“Tony,” Steve managed, feeling a halo of pain radiate up his scalp. “Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?”

Steve thought he saw something mist across Tony’s eyes, but he couldn’t be sure. The more fully he became aware of his body, the more he noticed the pull of his skin cells contracting in uneven loops around the burns on his torso, and it was taking a considerable amount of energy to keep Tony’s face in focus.

“Everybody’s fine but you, Steve,” Tony assured him. “And the doctors said you should be able to move to the general floor in a few hours. So shut those baby blues and let the serum do its job, because there’s a whole team of keyed-up superheroes waiting to see you, and they’re emptying the hospital vending machines fast enough to cause a run on the Frito-Lay factory.”

Steve had drifted in and out of consciousness for a while after that, finally waking up long enough to eat a holiday dinner of contraband take-out, which Natasha had smuggled into the hospital using only Thor’s tendency to knock over delicate instruments and Bruce’s oversized jacket.

“When you sign up to be an Avenger, no one warns you about doing overtime as a falafel mule,” Bruce had mused, leaning back to let Natasha steal a fry off his plate.

“I still think we could have gotten that eighth kebab if you’d been willing to consider pant legs as additional real estate,” she told him.

"You should all be eating stuffing and pumpkin pie,” Steve grimaced. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here on Thanksgiving.”

“Listen, Cap,” Clint replied, waving a dolma at him, “if you’re going to apologize for anything, apologize for the purgatory potatoes you tricked me into making last year. At least this year we have food that doesn’t have the texture of fast-drying cement.”

“Those tubers had truly been abandoned by the gods,” Thor agreed solemnly. “But I maintain that the Big Band Banana Pie was actually quite delicious.”

“Just don’t make the third-degree burns and hypovolemic shock a holiday habit, Rogers,” Tony put in. “Some of us are trying to watch our blood pressure.”

Tony had leaned over to adjust the settings on Steve’s bed as he spoke, and by the time he finished, a dull tugging sensation across Steve’s chest had loosened – the pain subsiding almost before Steve could register that it had been bothering him.

So that was why, after two years of throwing wrenches in the Avengers’ Thanksgiving plans, Steve was determined to make sure that year three went off without a hitch. He’d drawn up an elaborate plan for maximizing the utility of the Tower kitchen’s two ovens and seven burners and for optimizing the team’s various culinary skills. The operatives had been briefed the night before, and by 10:30 AM on Thursday, Steve was fluting a pie crust, Bruce was stripping fresh thyme leaves into an herb blend, Clint was whipping up a roux for the mushroom gravy, Thor was mashing potatoes and parsnips in an industrial-strength metal vat, and Natasha was dicing carrots and celery with a speed and precision that felt vaguely unsettling.

After checking the team’s progress against his itinerary, Steve turned to the next task on his own list: bringing Tony Stark his emergency coffee. Bruce had just made a second pot, and Steve poured some into the largest cup he could find: a purple novelty mug, featuring a drawing of the Hulk and the words “You Wouldn’t Like Me Without My Coffee.” He paused to tuck a few biscuits into a napkin (Tony’s relief at sighting fresh coffee sometimes opened up a narrow window during which Steve could feed him breakfast without being noticed), and headed down to the lab.

He found Tony standing with both arms braced against his worktable, designs for what looked like the paneling of Steve’s uniform projected in front of him. Steve cleared his throat, and Tony whirled around, the slump of his shoulders morphing into a graceful lounge by the time he was facing Steve.

“I was just about to come up,” he said. “I have a few finishing touches left here and then I’m all yours, Cap. Give me everything that can survive being the tiniest bit overcooked.”

Steve walked over to put Tony’s coffee on the table and then felt his breath catch in his throat when Tony reached out and took the mug from his hand instead.

“There’s no need,” Steve responded to cover his reaction, flexing the hand that had brushed Tony’s as he let it fall back to his side. “We’ve got the schedule covered for now. I was actually hoping I could talk you into a snack break.”

He waved the napkin of biscuits experimentally.

“Are you cutting me from the Thanksgiving roster, Rogers?” Tony asked. “Just because one time I set a very small grease fire – which I contained almost immediately, by the way.”

“The vase I broke when I sprinted into the kitchen would beg to differ,” Steve smiled. “But it’s not that. I just wanted to do this for you: a big dinner and sitting down with family.”

“For me?” Tony blinked at him. “Why?”

Steve started to cross his arms across his chest before realizing that he would risk crushing the biscuits. He settled for clasping his wrist with his free hand instead, widening his stance slightly and taking a deep breath. Come on, Rogers. Take it on the chin.

“Because I wanted to tell you that I woke up in this century alone,” he said, “and that you were the first person stubborn enough to make sure I wouldn’t stay that way. Now I wake up to a kitchen full of people who tease me about my lists but who know why I need them – who will eat dinner rolls that taste like soggy chalk just to make me feel at home.” He paused. “People who stay by my side for eight straight hours at the hospital.”

Steve looked up and caught Tony’s eyes, his heart rate picking up speed as memories of those same eyes flashed through his mind in quick succession: tearing up with laughter over a plate of cornstarched bananas, pinched with fear over a surgical mask, narrowed in concentration over the remote control for an adjustable bed.

“Romanov has an awfully big mouth for a spy,” Tony said with a rueful smile.

“I think it was a tactical leak,” Steve acknowledged, “to motivate her mark. She knew I needed a push. Because I’ve messed up the past two years, and I needed to tell you: pretty much everything I’m thankful for in my new life is here because of you.”

Tony was staring at him, his eyes darting quickly across Steve’s face as if JARVIS were scanning it for data. Steve held up under the silent scrutiny as long as he could before letting out an explosive breath.

“Anyway, sorry to interrupt you,” he said quickly. “You’ve got work to do, and I’ve got to go make sure everything’s on track upstairs. I’ll uh – I’ll have Bruce come get you when dinner’s ready.”

He started to make an about face toward the door, but Tony caught his arm and held him in place.

“Give a guy a goddamn minute, Steve,” he said softly. “I’m having to do a major cognitive reboot over here. It takes a while for the operating system to come back online. Just…sit down? Let me show you the new flame retardants I’m adding to your uniform.”

Steve complied. And as he watched Tony run through the specs, gulping coffee and nibbling absently at the biscuits, he realized that he knew what Tony was saying even before Tony finally spoke the words: “I’m thankful every time you wake up.”

[anika-ann]

What I’d Never Say or Do (Had I Been in My Right Mind) - Pt.1

We Both Break Free (…if We Make It on Top)

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2, part 3)  

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count (Ch1): 2050

Series summary: A story in which you officially come back from the dead, Tony with Natasha decide to take the blame for the whole mess and organize a party with unexpected party crashers and Bucky should consider thinking before speaking.

Fic title applicable to Tony, Natasha, Steve and his soulmate (aka the Reader), Bucky and his sort-of-buddy Matt Murdock and possibly few more.

Ch.1 summary.: In which Natasha and Tony go mad.

A/N: This series will be just a smaller thing, snippets set around The Age of Ultron (and later, Endgame). Later will be referred to as WINSoD because the title is a monster.

Warnings (ch1): mention of death and resurrection, mention of superntural creatures (see Errare Humanum Est), language, fluff

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Tony Stark was a ridiculously theatrical person.

While that was no news to anyone who knew as much as his name at least, but he still managed to outlive the legend, the reputation that preceded him.

He left you standing by the door, walked in to gain the undivided attention of the person inside the office and wanted you to reveal yourself in the exact right moment – a moment he trusted you to recognize.

Well. You assumed with a revelation like yours, it was rather hard to keep the drama away. But leave it to Tony Stark that he would blow it to proportion just to have fun.

“Tamara, darling!” the billionaire howled, the door opened only for a crack, so you could hear the reaction. You rolled your eyes, sighed and nervously looked around. The department was empty safe for the woman in the office, but it still made you feel uneasy; probably the effect of having to hide for the past weeks to avoid detection that could lead to a major scandal.

“Oh god, what happened?” Tamara asked, sounding as horrified as annoyed.

“Why do you assume— okay, that’s fair. How’s you hubby doing?”

“Alright,” the poor woman answered, clearly suspicious. “I more or less cleaned up the latest mess, so I’ve been coming home early…”

“Yeeeeah, about that. I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?” Tony offered cheerily.

“Bad news. Always. Let me just sit down-- no, no, don’t let me sit down, I have a feeling I’ll wanna pace irritably.”

That caused the corners of your lips to turn up. You were starting to like this woman already.

“I’m gonna need you to deal with a major scandal worthy of your skills.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere and I assumed as much.” Now you officially loved her – and you saw why Tony did too. Sass and snark; Tony’s language. “So, care to elaborate?”

“Nah, I’ll give you the good news. You’re gonna get some help. I brought reinforcements. She doesn’t have much experience with PR-” Try none. “-but I’m pretty sure she’ll be the one all the questions will be aimed at.”

“Oh my god, Anthony, did you get a woman pregnant?!” the woman hissed, not bothering lowering her voice. She sounded… kinda pissed. Which was reasonable, given the fact Tony Stark was happily-not-single with one amazing Pepper Potts.

“What? No! I have Pepper!” he opposed her, having the nerve to be offended. You smirked, hoping Jarvis caught that one line too. “This is all on Capsicle-“

“Captain Rogers got a woman pregnant?! What the-“

You felt like this was the moment.

“No, Mrs…. Tamara,” you said it the end, realizing Tony never told you the poor woman’s last name, and entered the room. “But his soulmate sort of came back from the death.”

Tamara was a middle-aged woman, with blonde medium-length hair and huge majestic glasses, business suit in a bloody-red colour and lips perfectly shaped in an “O” as you demonstrated the problem at hand.

“Holy. Shit.”

Leave it to Tony Stark he would flee the moment an actual explanation was needed, letting the others deal with the aftermath of his dramatic tendencies. To be fair, this was more of your drama, so…

“Good. Looks like introductions are not needed. I’ll send you the necessary data. Have fun.”

He strode through the door, winking over his shoulder at you and sending an air kiss to Tamara and you nervously smiled at the woman, your awkward side showing when you raised your hand to a reluctant wave before you could realize a handshake would be more appropriate.

“Uhm. Hi…”

The blonde blinked several times, shook her head with an incredulous chuckle and stuck out her hand.

“Hi. I’m Tamara, Antony Stark’s cleaning service. What can I do for you?”

Oh yeah. You’d get along just fine.

…

The story was simple and yet enough to make at least two Avengers very much hated.

Tony and Natasha, perhaps from some residual guilt of which you weren’t sure where was coming from, were determined to be thrown to the wolves of public.

Apparently, it had been all their idea – to have Steve and you kidnapped in the first place by the bomb enthusiast psycho. They had caught something fishy, been aware of it for a long time and opted for drawing the something rotten within SHIELD and company out by leaking early info on where you and Steve would be going to dates for several nights in a row without your or Steve’s knowledge. Perfect bait with nearly perfect surveillance background and safety measures.

Predictably, it had gone to shit and while you had never been blown up to death, which was something Steve had had zero clue about, you had been recovering from your life-threatening injuries for weeks in a hidden facility of top-secret location with way too much security. Still without Captain America’s knowledge.

Admittedly, this tale was a PR nightmare in making, not to mention a complete bullshit. Yet, the Avengers (sans Steve so far) unanimously approved of it. Tony and Natasha would be the first to blame, while the rest would reluctantly admit they knew as well and they had all kept it from Steve.

“You can’t be serious,” was all you managed to come up with, Steve sitting on the couch next to you while the rest of the team, the part that was momentarily on Earth, gathered around you to break you the news. This was what they came up with? “People will hate you.”

“And their hearts would still bleed for their golden boy, who would forgive us in time, especially since we offered his girl a job and an apartment she can’t quite refuse.”

“Wait, what kind of a job?!” Steve snapped, waking up from the deep thoughts he had fallen into with this stupid talk.

“The non-dangerous kind, Steve, calm down, please,” Natasha cooled him off flatly, but you could see her sincere gaze when it met with Steve’s. We wouldn’t endanger her, not again, it whispered. Steve’s shoulders slumped.

“What kind of a job?” you echoed, still worried. You assumed the apartment Tony mentioned was a place in the Tower, not bothering to ask about that part.

“PR. Unless you want to deal with your old job of which I have no doubt your best buddy would give back. I’d just like to remind you how the public reacted to you dying.”

Right. You wouldn’t mind a little privacy and safe space. You liked your old job, but it didn’t seem like an option now. Except… this was crazy.

“But they will still hate you. It makes you guys terrible friends and teammates. Frankly, it makes you kind of… terrible people,” you said slowly, taking time to examine everyone’s face.

“She’s got a point,” Steve agreed, wheels in his head clearly turning in a lightning speed.

“Meh. You should know what Fury’s up to during his ‘the end justifies the means’ periods – which is non-stop. I wouldn’t worry about that,” Natasha shrugged it off, pursing her lips a bit.

“Wasn’t it you who said you weren’t sure how to get her back to the world without having to explain she was literally led by an angel from Heaven?” Clint reacted to Steve, who sighed.

“Yes, of course, but this-“

“-is perfectly believable,” Natasha interrupted him, raising an eyebrow before beckoning to Tony and herself. “Me and Tony came up with the operation – a spy and a billionaire with questionable conscience. We pulled the rest of the team into the charade. This can work.”

“I can’t say I’ll enjoy this,” Bruce entered the conversation for the first time, surprising everyone. “However, it will allow you to walk the streets freely – with uncomfortable questions, yes, but it is a reasonable deal for us.”

“Steve? Thoughts?” the spy turned to him again.

Your soulmate observed his team for a long time, just like you, watching each of them individually, trying to read them as he himself was conflicted and undecisive. Finally, his eyes settled on you, a hint of an encouraging smile on his lips.

“Doll? How do you feel about that?”

The softness of his voice, the actual freedom he gave you when it came to this decision warmed your heart and made you shudder at the same time. You had no doubt he had come to a decision; but the final step was on you and you only. He would be affected too, of course, but this was your life that could turn upside down for like… what, the third time since you had met him?

You worried your teeth over your lower lip. “I mean… I’d really appreciate not having to hide in here all the time, but… I don’t want people to hate you, guys. I feel like I caused enough problems-“

“No, doll,” Steve whispered, his hand covering yours and squeezing firmly as he locked his gaze with yours and didn’t let go. “I’m not asking about them. I’m asking about you. They are clearly willing to do this.”

“Are you?” you questioned despite being confident about his answer.

“Do I love you?”

That caught you off guard. “Huh? That’s not what I-…?”

What did that even mean? Did he love— come again? How was this about his feelings towards you all of sudden? Was it time to question them? God, you hoped NOT.

“That the newest version of asking whether the sky is blue, doll,” he explained with a lop-sided smile and you released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

Idiot. Sap. Sweet-talker.

“You’re such a sap.”

“You love it,” he hummed confidently. You smiled despite your better judgement. You loved him. And yeah, you loved this silliness too.

“I do.”

“So… are we doing this? Together?” His smiled grew a little wider, the twinkle you adored appearing in his eyes and you couldn’t but squeeze his hand back.

“Yeah. Together.”

“Jarvis, send Dum-E with some insulin shots,” Tony cleared his throat and you felt your cheek dust with a blush, roughly pulled out of the haze Steve managed to put you in once again. “We’re all having unhealthy sugar rush.”

The captain rolled his eyes. “Har, har, Stark. Are you guys really okay with this?”

Clint huffed. “It’s not like people will start planning our assassination more than they do already.”

“Tamara might,” Natasha opposed, amused.

“Ah, poor Tamara, I better bring a wine with me when asking…” Tony mused, scratching his goatee.

You turned to the red-head spy, not happy about being out of the loop.

“Who’s Tamara?”

Tamara, the head of the PR department for Tony (and sometimes for the Avengers too, because those two clients, so to speak, often came as a package deal), was currently starring at you speechless when you told her the tale of what actually happened and what lie they had decided to feed the public.

The silence lasted long enough for you to start worrying.

“Are you alri-“

“Angels are real?!” she burst out, nearly making you jump out of your skin with the sudden exclaim. You placed your palm over your chest to keep your racing heart inside your ribcage.

“…yes. But so are demons, shapeshifters, witches and so on, so…”

“Not a good thing to go public with. Got it. I understand the cover-up now. Though people being able to be resurrected would be enough on its own even without the… creatures. My my… we have a lot of work to do.”

“I’d imagine,” you agreed, not having a clue how to do this and where to start.

The woman looked at you over the rim of her glasses, her smile kind, in the Stark contrast to her loud cry only few second ago.

“…you don’t have any experience with PR at all, do you?”

“Nope,” you admitted, accenting the P and looking away, ashamed that Tony threw you into this without giving you anything helpful.

Now Tamara had to deal with the scandal and with you trying to help. That woman was worthy of some serious pay raise (though you had no doubt Tony paid her enough for her to own a villa or something, exactly as much as she deserved for dealing with his shit).

“I’m gonna kill Anthony, I swear…. Okay,  let’s get this shit on the road. Also, Jarvis? Tell Antony to get the freakin’ wine ASAP.”

Oh yeah. You would actually adore Tamara, you were sure of it.

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Part 2

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Here we go! The final part of the series. Admittedly, I’m not sure about quality of this thing, but I’m trying.

Chapter titles are taken from the chorus of Les Friction’s What You Need

Thank you for reading ♥

(I’ll be tagging my Errare Humanum Est taggies, if you don’t want ot be taggged anymore, let me know)

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Chaos and Bloodshed Already Haunt Us

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Tim and Jason get kidnapped by Black Mask. Jason is too sacrificial for his own good.

Tim has been waking up tied to chairs in strange places since he was thirteen, to the point where he has been kidnapped more times than he’s been to Chuck E. Cheese. When you’re a Wayne kid and a batkid, you learn to accept regular kidnappings as a part of life, just like taxes. Is it so unreasonable that Tim would prefer to wake up in his own bed, for a change? First things first: take stock. Assess the situation. Go from there. Before he’s even opened his eyes, Tim feels for what he’s pretty sure is regular rope keeping his hands tied behind him. Unfortunately, even rope can hold a bat when said bat has no weapons to bail them out, which Tim doesn’t. His utility belt and bandoliers are missing, and any spare tools he has hidden on his person are impossible to reach with the way his arms are wrenched behind him. His fingertips are already tingly, going on numb. “Red? You up?” Tim opens his eyes at the familiar voice. Jason is tied to his own chair across from him, a mirror of Tim’s own situation. The room itself is small—gray walls, cement floor, unmarked crates stacked along the walls. Jason’s helmet is off, exposing the domino he wears underneath. Tim’s mask hasn’t been touched either. “Do you remember what happened or do you need the recap?” Jason asks.

It’s blurry at best, but Tim remembers enough. “Intel mission on Black Mask, right?”

“Started out that way. We got here and I figured out that Sionis was selling weapons to Intergang so we blew the whole shipment to hell.” “You figured it out?” That doesn’t sound right, as fragmented as Tim’s memories are. From the throbbing in the back of his head, he must have been hit pretty hard. “You calling me a liar?” “I ain’t calling you a truther,” Tim mutters, fiddling with the rope that’s been cutting off circulation in his hands for what must have been at least an hour. He can’t get Jason and himself out of here in this condition. “Did you—" “Already signaled him.” Good. Bruce will send someone to bail them out of this in no time. They just have to hold out until then. “Oh, good, you’re awake,” a chilling voice speaks from behind Tim. “You have no idea how bored I was waiting for the party to start.” Fingers touch Tim’s shoulder and he jerks away. Jason, unbothered by the newcomer, snorts. “This is what you consider a party? You need some fucking friends.” Sionis ignores the jab. He passes Tim and goes straight for the camera set up near the left wall, just far back enough to fit both Tim and Jason in frame. Very, very bad sign. He turns it on, the red light blinking. “You making a movie?” Jason says. He’s snarky, but Tim can see the fear lurking behind his eyes. Roman ignores him and adjusts the camera so it points at himself. “Hello, Batman.” Tim’s eyes snap up to meet Jason’s. “In case you were wondering, this is a live feed you’re getting now. And don’t try tracing it, you’ll just waste your energy. You’re not the only one who has talented technicians on his side.” He leans in closer to the camera, his mask nearly touching the lens. “In the spirit of clarity, let me be clear: this, right now? This is a gift. This is my warning to you to stay the hell out of my business, otherwise you and your precious lackeys will have to answer to me.” He moves out of the frame and zooms in on Tim’s masked face, then Jason’s. “Lucky for me, I found a couple of your birds messing with my shipment, and they so graciously volunteered to help me set an example.” He steps aside and gestures to a tray of tools, each one more horrible than the last. Most of them are still coated in blood from his last victim. Tim gulps. Sionis peruses his collection, which gives Tim the chance to catch Jason’s attention. He jerks his head toward the camera, mouthing, Tell them where we are. Jason nods, and Tim looks back at Sionis. “You think I haven’t been tortured before? This is just a workout.” Is it true? No. He’s terrified, actually. But Jason needs time to signal Bruce through the camera, so Tim will stall for as long as he can. “Bold words, kid.” Sionis picks up a knife, tracing the edge of it with his fingertip. “Just makes it more fun for me when you break.” He comes closer and grabs Tim roughly by the chin, pressing the knife against his cheek uncomfortably close to his eye. “I’ll bet I can make you cry.” “Hey, Blackie,” Jason calls, ripping their focus away. His eyes are narrowed, mouth twisted. “Did you hear the one about the rich dude who wore blackface?” Sionis tightens his grip on Tim’s face. “Do tell.” Stop talking, Tim tries to convey telepathically. Don’t make this worse. “It was universally agreed that he was a piece of shit.” “You should learn to keep your mouth shut when someone’s holding a knife to your baby brother’s face.” To prove his point, Roman digs the knife in, slicing a thin line down all the way to Tim’s jaw. Tim inhales sharply at the sting. “Baby brother?” Jason repeats. “You really are an idiot.” He doesn’t look at Tim, keeping his glare solely on Roman. “I barely know the guy. He follows me around, thinking I walk on water or some shit, but trust me. He’s a pain in the ass. You’re doing me a favor, really.” Sionis pulls the knife away from Tim’s face. Tim releases a breath. Sionis approaches Jason now, his knife still raised with Tim’s blood staining the steel blade. “Someone’s mouthy today.” “If you think this is mouthy, you should have heard your mother last night.” Sionis plunges the knife into Jason’s knee. Jason locks a scream behind his teeth, his face contorting in pain. “Try walking on water now,” Sionis hisses. He yanks the knife out, blood splattering on Jason’s legs and the floor. Tim looks nervously at the camera, its red light blinding ominously. Is Bruce watching this from the other side, agonizing over having a front-row seat to this display? Or is he already gone, on his way to rescue them? Tim hopes it’s the latter. “You think—think I haven’t been stabbed before?” Jason pants, his teeth gritted through the pain. “That was child’s play.” “Is that right?” Sionis looks over his shoulder at Tim. “Then maybe we should get a second opinion. What do you say, kiddo? Want to match your brother over here?” “Thank god,” Jason says. “Go over there and stay, if you wouldn’t mind. Your breath smells like dog shit. But I guess you are what you eat, so.” Roman punches Jason in the face so hard Tim can hear his teeth clank from here. He does it again two, three times, until blood streams from Jason’s nostrils and spills over his lips. Tim pulls frantically on the ropes binding him, tries to do anything, but he’s held tight. “Now, that,” Jason says, spitting out a mouthful of blood and what looks like a tooth, “was better. Still amateurish, but at least you’re not a fuckin’ sissy about it.” “Hood,” Tim snaps. “Please, shut up.” Why are you doing this? “Why should I listen to you? You’re the one who got us into this mess in the first place, replacement. This is your fault.” Jason’s words are snarls and his eyes burn with a tangible hatred, all directed at Tim. But Tim knows him too well. Not everyone wears a literal mask like Sionis does. Roman reaches for his tray and picks up a new blade, this one with large, jagged teeth. “By all means, keep talking, Hood. See where that gets you.” “What, are you going to stab me? Go ahead. The little shit deserves to feel guilty.” Sionis poises the blade at Jason’s shoulder, digging the tip in until Jason hisses. He leans in close, grabs Jason’s jaw with his other hand. “I know you’re not stupid. You think that if you act like a big enough asshole, you can save the runt from me.” He pushes on the knife, slowly sinking it into Jason’s flesh, ridge by ridge. “I’m very okay with that.” Roman twists the knife and Jason screams. Tim closes his eyes but he can’t cover his ears; he can’t tune out his brother screaming in agony, and he almost wishes that he were in Bruce’s position, watching this through a video feed. At least then he could turn it off. “Stop, please,” Tim begs. “He didn’t do anything, it was all me. It was my idea to blow up your shipment. I ruined your business, not him. Just—hurt me, take it out on me. Not him.” Sionis releases the blade, leaving it sticking out of Jason’s shoulder. “Told you I could make the little bird cry.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim has never felt so powerless in his life. It feels like it goes on for hours, the blood and the screaming and the sickening sound of torn flesh. It only gets worse when he escalates to the snapping of fingers, the crackle of knife through bone. He hits Jason so many times there’s more purple riddling his face than clean, unmarked skin. And every time Sionis so much as looks at Tim, Jason does something new to pull his attention back like a wasp on a string. He provokes the sadistic bastard with vulgar comments, snotty complaints that belong more in Damian’s mouth than Jason’s. And Tim can’t do anything but watch. He doesn’t know how long it’s been when something crashes behind him, which he assumes is the door. Roman barely has time to drop the blowtorch he’s holding before a batarang strikes him in the center of his mask, knocking him out cold. Jason doesn’t react. He hasn’t lifted his head in so long it puts Tim on the edge of panic, just quiet groans and grunts through every new injury inflicted on him. “Tim!” Dick is at Tim’s side in an instant, already working on the ropes binding him. “Are you okay?” Bruce is tending to Jason, putting a field dressing on one of his many open wounds while he talks to Alfred through his earpiece. He’s telling him to call Dr. Thompkins and tell her it’s an emergency. As soon as his hands are free Tim is lunging up from the chair, only for Dick to grab him by the shoulders and force him back down. “Hey, hey, slow down. Where are you hurt?” Dick lightly prods around the cut on Tim’s face, which is undoubtedly going to need stitches, but Tim couldn’t care less. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Jason, who lets out a groan when Bruce accidentally jostles his broken arm. Tim shakes his head, swallowing thickly. “He didn’t—he didn’t do anything to me. He didn’t touch me at all. Only Jason.”

[ranger-jedi-knight]

This Little Angel Part 2

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201565/chapters/59881333 Taglist: @chocolate1721 @tiny-goddess-of-chaos @amayakans @cutechip @more-or-less-human-i-guess 

Ok, so here’s the much requested second chap!! I hope you guys enjoy it!!

Mari was excited as she looked around the private jet Bruce was taking them home on. She kept looking up and down at her sketchbook as she sketched a few things from the inspiration. Harley and Joker were on the plane too, Mari and the others had a moment of surprise when Joker had taken all his make-up and what not off leaving him looking very normal. Not that they couldn’t blame him. They can’t exactly petition Paris to give her custody back over to her criminal parent JOKER. So they had to look normal. Harley was going by her real name Harleen and Joker was going by Jack.

It may have been illegal to forge some documents but it was for the better. She was in all rights Harley and Joker’s daughter. But, no one outside of Gotham was going to accept that. So, they may have asked Babs and Tim to hack and make official paperwork saying that she was adopted at age 3 by Jack and Harleen Quinzel. Then have it known that at around age 10 she was kidnapped and trafficked resulting in their divorce.

Even Gordon agreed to it since he knew how much Harley and Joker cared for her. Their worried attack to search the city when she first disappeared was proof of that! And having her back, they were sure Joker would return back to normal, doing more innocent attacks, using the venom only on HUGE heists that happened less and less. Becoming more of a nuisance than a real big baddie.

And they could only do that if they had official US documentation of Mari’s adoption to them. So, they did a little illegal hacking to do it. But no one outside of their group had to know that. Mari reached down to pat her purse as they crossed into France, getting closer to Paris. It was the next day so no doubt her class was going to be in class. She did wonder tho if classes were easy today for everyone because of the trip.

She suggested it, but she wondered if Bustier would follow it.

They soon landed at the airport and both Chloe and Damian took one of her hands into theirs. She was so glad that Bruce had come with and let Damian join. They exited the plane and got their suitcases.

Chloe’s driver was there already and took them to the hotel where they were all staying. Mari was to stay in Chloe’s suit as a neutral place while that whole case went down. Gordon was sharing a room with Joker and Harley to keep them in check, which he doubted they needed but better to be safe. While Bruce and Damian had their own.

After dropping their bags off, Bruce, Gordon, Harley, and Joker went to the French Police and child services to deal with the case about Mari’s future. Meanwhile, Mari and Chloe went to the school to tell them due to a case they wouldn’t bee in class for some time. But they would keep up with their studies while the case went on.

Damian decided to go with them but would stay in the car-limo actually. Mari took a deep breath when they stopped in front of the school. She gave the two a small smile when they squeezed her hands. The two slowly slid out of the limo and made their way into the school and up to Principal Damocles’s office. It was a quick thing to inform him of what happened and about a case being opened.

So Damocles agreed and understood that they wouldn’t be in class and just said to either put their work into Bustier’s mailbox in the school or to give it to him. Now it was time to face Ms. Bustier and tell her. They reached her classroom and Mari raised a hand to knock. Bustier opened the door and glared at the two girls before pulling them into the classroom.

“Girls, I don’t know what has gotten into. First, you purposefully miss the flight home for attention, and now come to class late? What do you have to say for yourselves? It better be good otherwise I’ll be sending you to the principal’s office,” Bustier said annoyed and the two shared a dumbfounded look while the rest of the class laughed.

“Ya Marinette, I can’t believe you’d stoop so low like that!” Alya shouted before looking at Bustier once more. “Also, Ms. Bustier, Marinette sent Lila horrible texts this morning. They should be sent to the principal’s office for bullying!” she yelled and the class shouted their agreement. “Oh really? Girls?” Bustier was fully glaring at the two now.

“I can prove that Lila lied there. I haven’t touched my phone all morning since I turned it off when I got onto my flight home this morning and turned it on when we got off,” Mari said pulling out her phone to show a tweet she made from Gotham time of 2 am getting onto a private jet and then making a tweet at 11 am getting off the jet and into Chloe’s limo. “See? You’d see that for the time it took to fly, my phone was off, the exact time that I ‘supposedly’-” she put in air quotes “-sent horrible texts to Lila. even you know that you can’t do anything on a phone while flying,” she finished and Alya grumbled and glared at the girl, somehow thinking she was lying still.

“As for that flight thing and late,” Chloe said looking at her nails not even bothering to glare at Bustier, “you guys left us in Gotham even tho Mari’s reunion with her parents was very public. Not to mention you didn’t even headcount. So really, you’re too blame for that,” Chloe said and Bustier opened her mouth but Chloe cut her off with a raised hand. “And for the late, we just arrived an hour ago in Paris and had to drop our bags off. We just came here from Damocle’s office saying we won’t be in class for some time due to a case being opened up that we’ll be a part of. Now, we ought to be going,” she grabbed Mari’s hand and started walking out before glancing back in with a smirk. “You guys should be expecting some suits to show up later too~!” she called out smirking before leaving.

Bustier glared at the door, planning on talking to Damocle’s at lunch about their behavior.

They entered the limo and Mari leaned against Damian’s shoulder as they went to the hotel and stayed there.

The following week is hectic, to say the least. Mari is going between talking at family court and facing akumas and ignoring her ex-friends and parents. Tom and Sabine didn’t appreciate Mari saying that Lila indeed lied to them when they asked about where she was. They also didn’t appreciate being investigated along with their workers, friends, and customers. They thought they were star parents and didn’t deserve this.

Before court, they tried guilting Mari into not suing them or her friends. Chloe and Damian had to pull her away before she caved with her lawyer threatening them. As it was, they informed the judge of it, and the Judge was not amused at that. It was tough, so very tough, but in the end, the Judge decided that Mari was to stay with Harleen and Jack in joint custody. While they were separated, it was clear they loved and missed their daughter. Meanwhile, Tom and Sabine had to pay for it. They were banned from adopting kids until they took some classes and had proven they would take care of and love a child correctly and not work them.

After that, it was time to focus on suing her classmates for harassment and the school for negligence. Now that would take longer to deal with. The family court only took 4 days to deal with it. She could only sigh at the break she got between it after finishing the family case. They gave her the next day to rest before jumping into the next cases against students and the school.

Tho, that had her giving another sigh of relief as a few classmates agreed to the terms easily when they were told off by Jack and Harleen about how they should know her from the 6 years they’ve known each other. And then Bruce coming in to serve Lila papers for slander. That had the whole class shouting as then another lawyer came in with all the other celebrities she’s lied about suing her.

Ladybug sighed as she landed in an alley nearby after defeating the Akuma. She leaned against the wall and slid down as her transformation died. Her head fell back against the wall with her eyes closed. A gasp ringing thru the air had her eyes flinging open tho.

She looked around and her eyes landed on Joker and Harley standing at the entrance. “Mama? Papa?” she called and the two came to her and kneeled down in front of her. “What are-did you-?” she cut off, worry filling her veins.

“We know now sweetie. We followed Ladybug to see how long this has been happening and if you were in trouble at all,” Harley said cupping her daughter’s cheek and Mari leaned into the touch with a sigh.

“This has been going on since I was 13. I’ve tried figuring out who Hawkmoth is but I’ve been having trouble. My partner hasn’t been any help tho,” she said softly and watched as her parents got angry.

“And this whole time you’ve had to deal with those idiotic sheep called classmates the whole time?” Joker demanded and Mari bit her lip.

“Just for the last year or so when Lila appeared,” she explained watching as her parents got more upset.

“Please calm down tho!” Tikki called floating in front of them causing their anger to dissipate a bit as confusion went thru them.

“Who are ya?” Harley asked, sticking a finger out pocking the paw Tikki held out.

“I’m Tikki, Marinette’s Kwami! I’m what allows her to transform into Ladybug,” she explained and the two slowly nodded. So once that confusion was clear she elaborated on her first comment. “You two need to calm down tho. Hawkmoth can feel any negative emotions and feed off them! So far only two people have fought him off and I’m sure Mari wouldn’t want to fight her parents,” she explained and the girl nodded her agreement.

“I don’t wanna fight you, mama, papa,” she said as Harley then pulled her into a hug that Mari returned. Joker stiffened tho causing the two to pull back to look at him worried. Mari gasped when she saw the outline surrounding his eyes. “Papa!” she cried out.

“Oh, so your that punk-ass bitch terrorizing everyone. Well, listen here, mothy. You are an insult to villains everywhere. You hide away and make others do the work for you. You make children fight your battle, you punk-ass bitch. So let me say this, the reason I’m upset is because of you terrorizing my daughter while facing the stress of her classmate’s harassment. The moment I find you, Mothy, I’m going to make you regret everything you’ve ever done. And don’t you try saying that I can’t. Do you know who I am? I’m the Joker, Clown Prince of Gotham. Oh yes, you have heard of me. Then you know I don’t make light threats. I will make your life a living hell. Do I make myself clear?” he asked and cackled when a pure white butterfly flew away hastily. “Well, he won’t try bugging me anymore,” he said and a sudden laugh left Mari’s lips.

Her parents looked at her fondly as she laughed. “Why don’t we head home now, sweetie?” Harley suggested and Joker nodded agreement. The two help Mari up and make their way to the hotel they were staying at.

“Since you know now. I’m Ladybug, I’m also the guardian of the Miraculous. I....I need to defeat Hawkmoth before I can leave,” she said softly when they reached their room and the two nodded understanding.

“Of course, sweetie. We’ll stay here as long as it takes,” Harley said as Joker hummed as they sat down on a couch.

“What if Batsy could help?” he asked and Mari hummed in thought.

“It could get done quicker,” she admitted and Joker nodded.

“That’s what I thought. Let me go talk to someone,” Joker said standing up and leaving the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ladybug stood at the top of the Eiffel Tower. She tilted her head slightly when she saw movement. Two people soon landed in front of her and she tilted her head. “Batman, Robin,” she greeted and the two nodded to her.

“So your Ladybug,” Batman said and she nodded. “What did you need help with? You seem to be doing everything very well,” he commented and Ladybug shrugged uncomfortably.

“Well, that may be. I’m not a detective. I don’t know how to figure out Hawkmoth’s identity. So I need your help to do that. I’m done with Paris. I want to leave,” she said and the two nodded slowly. They could only guess that she was done with Paris in her personal life seeing as everyone has the greatest respect for Ladybug.

“Ok, we can help with that,” Batman said with the smallest of nods.

“There’s something else,” she said, trailing off as she looked off into the distance.

“M’Lady! You didn’t tell me we would be having company~” Chat purred out leaning in close while glaring at everyone. Ladybug frowned as she pushed Chat away from her, earning a growl from him.

“That’s because we,” she pointed between him and herself, “never had anything planned. This was a planned meeting between myself and Batman and Robin,” she said glaring and Chat was angry at that.

“Oh really? Is that any way to treat your partner, m’lady?” he demanded and Ladybug scowled.

“You haven’t been my partner in a while, Chat,” she spat his name out. “You stopped being it when you decided flirting and whining was more important than defeated the Akuma’s,” she said and Chat scoffed.

“Please, your cure will bring everything back,” he said and Ladybug gnashed her teeth together as she stomped up to Chat and slapped him hard across the face.

“I don’t care that my cure can bring everything back. We shouldn’t rely on it. What if that battle is the one Hawkmoth wins? He does his wish. There’s no telling what will happen. Except that those people who are dead will most definitely stay dead. And because of your lazy ass, I now how to protect you as well which means that more people can get hurt or killed. Did you know that people remember dying? They remember that moment. They are traumatized by that moment. They cannot ever forget that moment. And that is all on you!” she shouted angrily.

“So what!?” he demanded and everyone was silent at that. How could they respond to that!? Ladybug was shaking in anger. She had a terrifying expression on her face that somehow was both ice cold and encompassed all seven levels of hell angry.

Chat didn’t even get to react.

Before he knew it, he was on the ground tied up and sore all over.

“Chat Noir, I hereby proclaim you unfit to wield a Miraculous. As Guardian of the Miraculous, I hereby reclaim you’re Miraculous of the Black Cat. You are unworthy and will never be able to wear or use a Miraculous ever again,” Ladybug said ripping the ring off of Chat to reveal Adrien Agreste underneath the mask. Ladybug snarled at him as he cried out. A red mark similar to the one of the box, formed on his chest and hand, burning.

“No! You can’t do that! He’s all I have left!” he shouted reaching out when Ladybug untied him.

She slapped his hand away. “No, I can do that. You’ve shown yourself to be incompetent in being a hero. You only have yourself to blame,” she said turning away. “Let’s go,” she said swinging off, not even seeing if the other two followed. She landed on the balcony leading to her parent’s room, leaving the two vigilantes confused. Mari stumbled into the room and collapsed onto the couch with a groan as she transformed.

“Mari?” Robin asked causing her to groan once more as she looked up at them blearily.

“You followed,” she mumbled before planting her face on the couch once more.

“Mari needs to rest now,” Tikki said flying up to look at both Batman and Robin. The two looked at her shocked.

“Who are you?” Robin asked.

“I am Tikki, Kwami of Creation. I’m what gives Mari her powers,” she explained and the two nodded. “But go, she needs to rest. What she did exhausted her, it’d no simple thing for a Guardian to ban someone from ever using a Miraculous again. We’ll talk in the morning,” Tikki said and the two nodded, heading to their room.

In the morning, they did talk.

In the morning, Mari learned that Robin and Batman were Damian and Bruce Wayne.

Within the week, they had taken down Hawkmoth and revealed to the world that Gabriel Agreste was a terrorist.

Adrien revealed himself as Chat Noir which brought about mixed responses. No one really respected Chat, at least not the people that he needed to. Especially when they learned he was stripped of the Miraculous. For all the harassment, endangering, and enabling he’s done, along with not feeling guilty about just outraged that he was being punished, he was going to a school for troubled kids and put on record as a harasser. He would be going to juvie for 6 months tho first before being sent out of Paris to the school. His father’s company tho, the courts would decide what to do with when he turns 18. But who knows how it’ll look like when Adrien is 18.

Mari felt a bit bad but knew it was for the best. Lila was the next worst off. Lila had piles of lawsuits. She was banned from France as a whole with everyone knowing what she’s done. She was going to a military school for troubled teens in the hopes she’d get better. She’d stay with her grandparents who were no-nonsense. She’d also have to pay for all the suits which would be hard considering not many people wanted to hire her.

The rest of the class had it off easiest. They only had to pay a fine and do a bit of community service. Damocles was demoted and sent to classes to see if he could possibly return to being a principal. Ms. Bustier, however, was fired. She didn’t handle the situation well at all, and only ever listened to one side of the argument and pressured students. So she isn’t allowed to teach kids anymore.

The class tho, they felt they lost the worst.

They realized just how amazing Mari was to them. And what they did to her in return for that kindness? They treated her horribly. Only Chloe was able to talk to her. But they all got to see how well she was settling into her new life in Gotham. It was hard to miss really.

She was dating Damian Wayne and got an internship with Bruce Wayne to help start up her business as MDC. She was called the Angel of Gotham. Chloe joined her there and lived with Mari and her parents.

And she looked so happy back home in Gotham.

They were never making it up to Mari, no matter how hard they tried.

Ok, so here’s the second part!! I hope you like it. Sorry if the ending seems a TAD rushed. I wanted to give you guys this and i was losing steam on it, mostly a headache comin in goin ‘HAHAHA U THOUGHT UD WRITE?! THINK AGAIN AHAHAHAHAH’. Ya, so that’s why. Anyways, until next time! -Love Willa <3<3<3

[iselsis]

Pieces

Summary: Jason Todd accidentaly breaks one of those stupid antique vases, and Bruce is going to kill him as soon as he finds out.

The vase fell to the ground with a splintering crash and broke into a million tiny pieces.

Jason slapped a hand over his mouth to hold back a panicked scream. He- He hadn’t meant to, he’d just turned around too fast and his arm had bumped into the table with the ugly and probably ridiculously expensive vase had gone straight over the edge.

Jason couldn’t stop the tears that welled in his eyes and spilled over, the first tears he’d cried since his mom died, and they were all for some stupid vase. Shit, Bruce was going to kill him for this, and if he didn’t do it himself, he was just going to toss Jason back onto the streets and let Gotham do it for him. It had only been a few weeks since Bruce had kidnapped him, but Bruce and Alfred had been so nice, and it was so weird, but that was all over.

Bruce was going to see the broken glass and flip his shit, and then he was going to deal with Jason the way Jason had been expecting him to for weeks over backtalk and being caught stealing food. Bruce had never hit Jason, and for a blissful day and a half, Jason had thought that maybe if he stayed out of big trouble, then Bruce wouldn’t hit him at all. As soon as his guard had come down, though, he’d gone and screwed it all up.

He was going to get a beating from Batman, and then he was going to be kicked back to Crime Alley, marked by the media as Wayne’s foster kid. If he didn’t die from internal bleeding or a cracked skull from the beating, he’d never last the night.

Unless Bruce never found out.

Jason inhaled sharply and quickly scrubbed the tears away. He had to work fast, and he couldn’t let Bruce or Alfred catch him being upset, because then they’d ask and there was no way they wouldn’t notice.

Jason pulled off his hoodie and spread it on the floor, then started snatching up the largest pieces of glass and throwing them onto his makeshift body bag. In his haste, he cut himself on a sharp edge, but he hardly noticed except to think that he’d better not get blood on the carpets too.

“Jason?”

Jason yelped and jumped up, throwing himself between Bruce and the broken shards of their relationship. He hadn’t even heard the man approach, but he was only twenty feet away.

That was such a stupid move. He could have played nonchalant, slid his hoodie over the glass, and just pretended that he was really interested in the carpet or something. Bruce would have bought that! He was a total clueless idiot! But no, Jason had just gone and panicked worse than he had when he’d been caught stealing Batman’s tires, and even Bruce would be able to read the guilt in that yelp.

It didn’t even make sense to be more scared now. Bruce wasn’t even wearing his reinforced gauntlets that would have let him cause more damage and longer like he had when he was Batman, but somehow the thought of Bruce – not Batman, not the Dark Knight, Bruce who bought him clothes, and books, and always asked Alfred how much Jason weighed and if he was gaining enough weight fast enough when he thought that Jason wasn’t around, and smiled at him like a creep whenever he walked in on Jason reading in the library – beating him made him feel sick in a way the threat of his father and Batman never had.

Bruce frowned and stepped closer. Jason did his best not to flinch and further show his guilt, but when Bruce reached for him, Jason stumbled back, directly onto his hoodie and the glass beneath it. None of the glass cut through the thick material, but it cracked damningly under his weight.

Bruce didn’t look down at Jason’s feet, just reached forward again, eyes zeroed in on Jason’s hand. Jason backed up again, but only made it half a step before crashing into the small table behind him.

“I’m sorry!” Jason cried and dropped to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and covering the back of his head with his hands, his eyes clenched tight shut so he wouldn’t have to see the blows coming.

“Jason!” Bruce exclaimed, and Jason felt an ugly sob building in his chest. Bruce was so mad, he was so mad….

There was a second crack of glass as Bruce must have stepped in it, meaning he knew not just that Jason was hiding something for sure, he knew that it was the probably priceless vase that had been in the Manor longer than Jason, and he might have hurt himself and gotten even more mad at Jason, and he was right there.

Jason sniffled pathetically, but he couldn’t stop crying, which was stupid, because crying always pissed his dad off more, but he just couldn’t stop.

There was another slight crunch of glass as Bruce shifted his weight, and Jason could literally feel the heat emanating from Bruce’s body.

“Please, I’m sorry! It was an accident, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Jason cried, pressing back as far as he could.

Huge hands wrapped around his thin wrists and effortlessly pulled them away from Jason’s head. Oh god, Bruce was going for a kill shot. Jason was going to die and even though he’d always expected to die young, he wasn’t ready. He had dreams, kind of, and plans, and half of Sense and Sensibility left to live for.

Bruce pressed both of his wrists into one hand and held them above his head, and Jason could feel the shift of air as the other hand reached for his face.

Warm, calloused fingers lightly touched his jaw and tilted his head. Jason flinched down, but Bruce made a soft, gentle noise that was so out of place that it shocked Jason long enough for Bruce to tilt his face up. So I can see how mad he is before he let’s me have it, Jason thought in dread.

“Jaylad, you’re hurt,” Bruce said, but that wasn’t true and it didn’t make any sense because Bruce hadn’t hit him yet.

“I’m sorry,” Jason sobbed, pleading with his eyes for some mercy.

Bruce frowned severely and let go of Jason’s wrists and chin. Jason ducked back down and threw his hands back over his neck and head as he heard Bruce stand slowly.

Jason felt the air shift again and braced for the contact, but it came as one hand braced carefully against either side of his rib cage. Jason had just a moment for confusion before he was lifted into the air and tucked against Bruce’s solid, warm, relaxed chest.

“Sh, sh, Jaylad. Everything’s okay,” Bruce hummed and turned around to face back the way he’d come. “Let’s go take a look at that finger.”

“What?” Jason whimpered thickly, keeping his arms tense between his chest and Bruce’s.

Was Bruce just going to carry Jason to the front door and chuck him out? That would be better than being beaten and thrown out, but his heart twinged in what felt like physical pain at the idea.

“Jason, I’m not mad at you.” Bruce rubbed a firm circle in Jason’s trembling back, but it didn’t hurt at all. It felt nice, way too nice for someone who was about to kick him back to the streets. It wasn’t fair for Bruce to be so nice. It wasn’t fair. “And if I were mad at you, I still wouldn’t hurt you. You’re my son now. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

That- That didn’t make any sense, and Jason felt like his head was spinning. If Bruce hadn’t been holding him, then he might have fainted.

“B-but-” Jason choked out around his tears.

“But nothing,” Bruce said, a hint of Batman’s steel in his tone. “If anyone hurts you, I will beat them up. You are mine, and I would never abuse you like that.”

“But the vase-” Jason’s voice hitched, but he had to say it. “I b-broke that vase, and it probably cost more than I do, and, and-”

Jason was jostled as Bruce’s chest jolted with a burst of laughter.

“Jason, I should be thanking you for breaking that,” Bruce told him, stopping his back rub to playfully ruffle Jason’s hair. “I’ve always hated that vase. It was an ugly eye sore that my Great-Aunt Edna bought at a yard sale for two dollars. Alfred would never let me throw it out.”

Hope sprung in Jason’s chest, and he sat up as best he could in Bruce’s arms. He had to see Bruce’s eyes, he had to be sure.

“You’re really not mad?” Jason whispered.

Bruce smiled softly and shook his head.

Jason’s breath caught on another sob, this one of utter relief instead of complete despair. “You- I can stay? You won’t kick me out?”

Bruce’s smile turned into a serious frown. They reached the empty kitchen, and Bruce opened the door without answering. Jason’s heart pounded wildly in his chest every moment that Bruce didn’t answer, but he didn’t dare press.

Bruce set him on the island, putting them nearly eye to eye. Bruce was still taller and so much broader, but it was the closest thing to equality they would get, and it settled Jason’s nerves just a bit.

Bruce took Jason’s chin between his fingers again and forced him to look into his dead serious eyes. Jason was transfixed by the intensity of Bruce’s gaze, even though he had no clue what going to happen to him next.

“Jason Peter Todd, I will never kick you out, do you understand me?” Bruce said, with more power and conviction in his tone than Batman. “I will never throw you out. When you leave this house, it will be because you are an adult and you want to, and even then, you will always be welcome to come back. I am never going to hit you or kick you, or abuse you in any other way. You are my son, and this is your home. You are safe here.”

Jason sat there in complete shock. He completely and totally believed that Bruce meant it – for the moment at least, because his dad had said that he’d quick drinking sometimes so seriously that Jason had really believed him, and he’d heard his mom say that she was going to quit for real this time so many times, but he’s sure that for the moment they are in, Bruce really, really means it.

The fire in Bruce’s eyes toned down and he placed a small kiss on Jason’s forehead before letting go. “Now, let’s get that cut cleaned and bandaged, then I’ll go clean up that vase. Do you want the Batman and Robin bandaids, or the Justice League baindaids?”

 Jason had wandered off in almost a trance after their talk, his fingers freshly tended to with a Robin and a Wonder Woman themed bandaid over the cuts on his fingers. Luckily, the cuts hadn’t been deep. Still, it bothered Bruce that Jason had been so panicked that he’d so desperately tried to hide his mistake. Bruce would definitely have to keep an eye on Jason to make sure that he didn’t try to hide injuries after patrol – if he ever actually came on patrol.

Bruce would much rather have Jason stay home and safe at the Manor instead of joining Bruce on patrol. Batman didn’t need a Robin so much as Bruce needed his son to be safe.

Jason had thrown himself so fully into being Robin that Bruce couldn’t stand to take it away. Not after agreeing to train Jason had finally settled some of that roiling anxiety in Jason’s eyes that Bruce had been sure would send him running back to the open mouthed grave that was Crime Alley.

The events of that past half hour, though, shed a bit of light as to why that anxiety was there in the first place. Jason didn’t trust Bruce to mean it when he said that he wanted Jason to stay permanently. He had months before Jason would be even a little bit ready to hit the streets. Maybe Bruce could convince him by then that he didn’t have to be Robin and risk his life to earn his place in the Manor.

Failing that, he could convince Jason that he and Batgirl were in desperate need of technical support. He could give him enough training on running comms and hacking cameras that he would know enough to feel useful, and then Alfred could get “sick” and need Jason to fill in for him. Jason responded well to praise, even though he tried to hide his blushing and smiles behind his hands and blustering attitude. While that as a less preferable option, it would keep Jason out of harm’s way long enough for Bruce to hammer into his thick little skull that he mattered to Bruce beyond just what he could do for him.

He was still musing on that and sipping his coffee at the kitchen table after having dumped the dustpan full of blue and white shards – because he did know how to use a broom - into the trashcan, never to be spoken of again, when Alfred came into the room.

Dammit, he’d forgotten to throw out-

Alfred picked up the bandaid wrappers from the counter and wordlessly stepped over to the trashcan to throw them away. When he saw inside, he stopped.

“Master Bruce, why are the remains of a Kangxi vase in the trash can, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked, giving him a pointed accusatory glare.

Trust Alfred to be able to know what dynasty or era, or whatever the hell Kangxi meant, a pile of broken glass had come from by sight.

Bruce took a long sip of his coffee. “That is some worthless knock-off my Great-Aunt Edna bought at a yard sale and Jason is never to think otherwise.”

Alfred’s irritation softened, and he sighed with mild, but fond, exasperation. “I suppose I acted too soon in bringing out the more breakable antiques. With Master Dick’s departure, I had assumed that they would be safe.”

Bruce felt a mild twinge of sadness at the mention of Dick’s sudden absence, but he pushed it down. He’d already made those mistakes, and he would not make them with Jason.

“With our boys?” Bruce scoffed. “I doubt they’ll ever be safe.”

Alfred sighed and threw the wrappers into the trashcan. “I was afraid of that.”

[somedrunkpirate]

AO3 Writing Tag

Name(s): Somedrunkpirate  Fandom(s): The man from uncle, The Witcher, Good Omens, Inception,  Where you post: Ao3  Tagged by @iamanonniemouse Tagging: @theheirofashandfire (good luck lmao) 

Most Popular One Shot (by kudos):

This year: You’re a dream, darling, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, T, 11k

There are two very important facts: 1) Aziraphale is dead. 2) None of this is real.

-----

Crowley’s throat tightens. “My angel,” he says. “My best friend. He’s dead, you know.”

Aziraphale blinks and then blood drains from his face. “No, no. Crowley. No. I’m here. I’m right in front of you.”

“I know,” Crowley says. “Isn’t it amazing, what a dream can do?”

Of all time:  On The Matter Of Touch, Good omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, T, 9k

“On the matter of touch,” Crowley begins, waving his teaspoon in what he hopes passes for idle curiosity. “Thoughts?”

---

For two ineffable husbands, they don't really touch each other much. Here is a story on why that might be.

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But Illya lives there, deep in the past, it’s the only way he gets through the day.

Favorite story you’ve written so far:

This year: The Golden Ocean, TMFU, Napoleon/Illya, 85k This story taught me to write for myself in the best and worst way. It is so hard to keep writing a prequel if it doesn’t receive a similar amount of feedback as the initial story. But I worked through it and got it done, for myself and my beta who supported me all throughout. And in the end, it’s probably my most original story I’ve written. 

Of all time:  A Lover’s Lament, The Witcher, Geralt/Jaskier, M, 25k I think this story really shows how I’ve learned to become a better writer over the last couple of years. It’s densely packed with original lore, worldbuilding, fun character interactions and has a plot that reveals more about the characters on a second read. It also has an original female character that I feel is my first 100% successful 3d side-character who has a whole story of her own outside of the main ship plot.  Honorable mention: Cold Frost and Sunshine, TMFU, Napoleon/Illya, 50k What initially started as purposefully the most trophy thing I’ve ever written (it’s a Hockey AU, for crying out loud), turned into an actual honest exploration of therapy and recovering from mental illness. I still get the occasional comment on it from people who said that the mental health parts really spoke to them, or that they even showed passages to Real Actual Therapists because it verbalized what they were feeling. This is the fic I always return to when I feel like my writing is worthless. Even the fic that I intended to have no deep value from the start, ended up being meaningful to people. It helps to remember that. 

Fic you were nervous to post:

You’re a dream, darling, is a story where the main character experiences intense dissociation and believes his reality is a dream. I am very aware that this is an actual thing that people experience, and I wanted to make sure I was careful and respectful when handling the topic. I based the story on what I had researched and what I experienced once myself while having a bad reaction to medication + being high (really be careful with weed and adhd meds folks). I was so nervous to post it, and worried that I hadn’t trigger warned it clearly enough or something. But in the end I’ve received a lot of positive feedback from people who experience dissociation, and that meant the world to me! 

How do you choose your titles?

Nine times out of ten the title is just kind of There, sometimes before I write it even. If not, I usually take inspiration from a line somewhere in the fic. Only once I needed to consult the poetry gods. 

Do you outline?

Does daydreaming the story a bunch count as outlining? I usually have some vague ideas about upcoming scenes and possible endings, but for my larger fics those ideas get thrown out and I flail around for something else. I think Lover’s is so succinct because I had most of it already in my head when starting, whereas with Drowning Deep I had no clue what had actually happened to break the characters apart until like chapter three. So I guess it depends on the fic and whether I have to due to a big bang sign up or something. 

Complete

51 fics (556k). This year: 9 (180k) 

In-Progress: 

The Angel of Greenwich: A good omens detective story set in the 1920′s, 22k. In The Dark We Travel: Geraskier (the witcher) sci fi au, 28k.  They’re both on a hiatus because pandemic times are fucking with me, but I’m chipping away at them and could use the encouragement.  Coming Soon/Not Yet Started:

Tragic Superbat alternate universe shenanigans: Clark gets switched with Alternate Universe Clark, who has been in a relationship with Bruce for years. Bruce falls in love with AU-Clark while also trying to get his Clark back (who he is convinced still hates him). 

Amnesia Jaskier with magical powers: Jaskier gets kidnapped and made into a powerful sorcerer, but the process removes all his memories. Geralt finds him completely dependent on the same mage that kidnapped him, and has to convince him that 1) Geralt is his friend and 2) Jaskier is not a dangerous monster, as the mage has convinced him. Very tragic all around. 

Original femslash idea, Stern Orc Woman with golden heart and ADHD Monk. Can only end in chaos. 

The Bullington Club: an original idea of a group of idiot lords looking for treasure and taking their longsuffering servants/guards with them on the ride. Aka that thing that completely got out of hand brainstorming with @theheirofashandfire

[kneamet]

Angel of cards (13/16)

Trigger Warning: no.

Summary: Joker, Mr. J, anarchist psychopath, Tom Hiddleston. He had many nicknames. Joker was Gotham’s most dangerous and insightful man, with sharp makeup and horribly memorable scars on his face in the form of a smile. He was absolutely crazy and deadly. No one knows his real identity and everyone is afraid of his cruel jokes. But what happens when he becomes obsessed with an ordinary girl?

She belongs to him. No one can take her away from him. Even The Batman.

Chapter thirteen: the Hospital

"Dear Bruce,

I'll be honest with you... I'm going to marry Harvey Dent. I love him and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. When I said that if Gotham didn't need Batman anymore... we can be together... I wasn't lying. But I'm sure the day will never come when you don't need Batman.

I hope I'm wrong. And if so, I'll be there. But as a friend. If you have lost faith in me, please keep your faith in people.

With everlasting love, Rachel, " Bruce whispered the last sentence softly, resenting the loss. There were gentle tears in his eyes. The hand clutched the paper on which the love words were written.

Why Rachel? Why her? Why exactly the love of his life, and not... someone else? Why did the Joker say this address and not some other address? Why did he name the place where Harvey is?

"Alfred?" Without taking his eyes off the window, his right eyebrow slightly raised, but still with an emotionless, steely voice that had an anxious and trembling note in it, Wayne asked.

In his peripheral vision, Bruce could see that Alfred had entered the room, dressed like a string. He couldn't see his expression or feel his feelings, but he knew that his beloved butler was also deeply sorry.

"Yes, Master Wayne?" asked Alfred, in his usual voice, with a hint of regret in it. He knew how much his master loved Rachel.

"Is it my fault?" Bruce asks with a sigh, feeling the paper get wet because of his sweaty palms from the fear of responsibility. "I was supposed to inspire good... not madness and death, " Wayne's always calm voice faltered. His jaw trembled slightly. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"You inspired good, but you spat in the face of the Gotham mafia. Did you think there would be no consequences?" Alfred asked, still holding the bottle of wine in his old hands, which Bruce would probably drink in one gulp. "Life always gets worse before it gets better," he sighed again and stood up from his comfortable black chair, turning to Pennyworth.

"But Rachel, Alfred," he countered, raising his voice slightly. It was too much to bear. Will Bruce be able to cope with such grief on his own? Would the general darkness swallow him up?

"Rachel believed in what you stood for. Gotham needs you, " the butler said in a reassuring old voice, moving closer to his master. He just looked down.

"Gotham needs a real hero," a real one. Not like him. Gotham needs someone who can always defend their rights and protect Gotham in a truly legal way. "And I almost let that psycho blow him to hell," Bruce whispered softly, referring to the Joker.

Wayne's hand, which was already holding the piece of paper with the love and voluptuous words, only tightened and tightened. The Joker. This blood-pumping and frenzied lunatic who only thinks about how to destroy Gotham.

And what about his equally beloved Blake? The same person who could always support him when Rachel was away? And if Rachel, he sighed, could be subject to that darkness, he didn't notice it for Blake.

Still, what does this fucking nutcase want with his best friend's niece? Bruce licked his parched lips of honey that had become wet from the tears of the meek.

He must understand everything.

***

"She wanted to wait for me," Harvey mumbled, gripping his aching knuckles tightly. He could still see the pleas and screams of his beloved as she died. Rachel. He opened his mouth slightly in annoyance, pulling his lower jaw forward. Will he be able to live without everything now?

First, the Joker took away the first ray of light in his life — Blake. His beloved niece, whom he adored with all his kindred love. Would he have been able to break into the ranks of prosecutors if he hadn't been there? Hardly.

The second thing the Joker took from him was Rachel. His favorite, his sweetest girl, for whom he was willing to do anything. Exactly the same one. The one who always supported him, helped him.

He didn't listen to Gordon's useless talk. Even aside from the fact that he was a very nice person who really felt sorry for him, Harvey didn't want to see him right now. His obsessive and mumbling behavior only irritated him and injected more anger.

"I'm sorry about Rachel," he said suddenly, after a long silence that lasted about a mortal two minutes. Dent choked on his breath. "The doctor says you have a terrible pain, but you don't take your medication. That you refuse... from a skin graft, " knowing that it would not entail anything good, Gordon said quietly. Harvey only stifled a guttural growl. Idiot. Idiot. What kind of mumbling creature is this?

"You remember that name... what you gave me... When did I work for you?" Dent asked, turning to face Jim, who was standing with his head down and his brown-and-green cap in his hands.

He could see the flash of fear in the commissioner's eyes, but immediately suppressed. Is he afraid of him? But why? What's there to be afraid of? These burns on the second half of the face? Or what?

"How was it, Gordon?" he asked in a more severe voice, squinting his right eye.

"Harvey, I am..."

"Speak up," Harvey said in a steely and very stern voice, feeling an uneasy shiver run down his spine. He knew the nickname. Knew. "Speak up!"

"Two-face. Harvey is two-faced."

"Why hide who I am now?" the man asked, baring his teeth and swallowing.

"I'm sorry," Gordon said in a low voice, only clinging more tightly to himself. He didn't like being shouted at, even though he'd seen a lot of things in his life.

"No," came the steely reply again.

***

Damn Moroni! The Joker thought furiously. His thoughts were now just a hailstorm of thoughts and a chaotic chaos that couldn't calm down. He licked his dry, bland, cold lips with a rough tongue. He was walking briskly toward Harvey Dent's room.

Oh, yes, the very man he had almost killed, and whom Batman had saved just in time. What a good boy he is. He would have to do it again somehow, and arrange a soft and favorable game for his favorite toy.

Although to be honest, Batman was eerily boring. That mumbling, stern voice and thoughts that he couldn't even properly show and say. Were you sure he was Bruce Wayne, the son of rich parents?

The Joker clenched his fists. His nostrils flared wide and he drew in a sharp breath. He resisted the urge to grimace. He likes the smell of the hospital. Medical supplies and equipment. Terribly. It's disgusting. Antiseptics for surface treatment, autoclave, hospital food, quartz, and the patients themselves, who apparently rarely wash, also had an unpleasant smell.

The Joker pressed the black plastic doorknob, pushing open the white door and entering a room that was clearly designed for premium guests. He chuckled, licking his painted lips again. Sloppy.

He quickly looked around the room, trying to find something that could be used against him. His quick and deft eye caught only a small silver tray, but he was unlikely to be able to defend himself with it.

The Joker sat down on the brown chair next to Harvey's bed. What beautiful burns the fire had left him, the Joker grinned. It definitely suits him. And how he hadn't done that to himself before. He stifled a small laugh.

"Hi," the Joker drawled, grinding his teeth together and making an unpleasant sound. Harvey, of course, woke up. The man saw the body of the injured patient tremble slightly and suddenly Harvey turns his head, shuddering slightly and trying to stand up.

"You know..." the Joker drawled again, prolonging the intrigue, until suddenly he noticed the terrible look of his interlocutor. Why is he looking so surprised? Oh, yes, the nurse's costume. In general, he liked it.

The Joker, or rather Tom, always liked to dress in women's suits. He felt to the bottom sometimes... more complete, or what? Yes, I suppose so, considering that it was only his mother who took care of Tom at the time.

He pulled back his fake red hair, trying to mess it up even more. Although it would seem that much more? They were already in a very sloppy state.

"...I don't want any hard feelings between us, Harvey, " the Joker curled his lips in disdain, slightly pinching his nose and frowning. "When my angel..." The Joker liked this savage look of Harvey, who was ready to tear anyone up for his favorite girls in the form of Blake and Rachel. But now that neither one, that is, Harvey, nor the other, that is, Bruce, has a favorite, how will they cope now?

How good it was that he had an angel of his own.

"Blake!" said Harvey loudly. The Joker grinned imperceptibly and raised his hands in the air, as if admitting the truth of the other person.

"...my angel was kidnapped ... " the Joker continued, taking great pleasure in Dent's anger. "...I didn't kidnap her. More precisely, I kidnapped her, but not to kill her. I'll do you a huge favor... My angel, or yours, or maybe Bruce's, Blake, is still alive. And I confess from the bottom of my heart, I'm being a gentleman to her," he saw Harvey's displeased face.

What doesn't he like? His niece is alive and well, she is happy to spend time with him, what is the problem?

"By the way, I didn't detonate those bombs," the Joker said quickly, as if trying to get off the subject, raising his hands again and licking his lips. To be honest, it was not pleasant for him to go without his favorite gloves.

It's terrible to look at your scars. They're so awful, Tom thought, suddenly breaking into the Joker's thoughts. Go away, Thomas! You're in the way! And didn't the Joker tell you that it's not exactly the right time to show up? Yes, and that very moment of obsession.

"These are your people. Your plan!" accused Harvey loudly, trying to rebel again, but the Joker only let out a nervous laugh, after which Det immediately stopped moving, froze with his eyes wide open.

"Do I look like someone who has a plan?" the Joker asked in an insistent tone, arching an eyebrow. He chuckled. However, suddenly, his eyes widened and he quickly jumped out of the chair, lowering his shoulders down and taking quick steps towards the door.

Harvey asked when the Joker was already out the door, but still not closing the door. The man just smiled reassuringly.

"My angel will miss you, I know, but I promise I'll beat the crap out of her and she'll be my wife," the Joker said unctuously, watching as Harvey's eyes began to grow larger. He tried to do something again and began to move quickly, trying to free himself and stand up. Suddenly, a door slammed. "Goodbye, Harvey-ee-ee," the Joker sang.

The man began to walk quickly towards the main exit. Now the fun begins. I wonder if the media will like this show? But he didn't want to think about it now. His biggest concern right now was his angel. Oh, how she must have missed him... Hungry and bored for sure. Well, he would help her.

And now we need to kill Harvey Dent.

[currentfandomkick]

Bio! Dad Strange Part 9

Jason returns, may be a 2 parter to cover tim getting kidnapped and the aftermath. Will let you know at the end. We are getting to Marinette dealing with Ladybugging soon.

Marinette wasnt sure what to think this year. She met The Barry Allen last year. She also figured out 2 heroes pre-flash revelation and two more after—in her defense Hero Stalker’s old theory on The first Robin did Batman in. it is not her fault 5 founding members have the multiple-persona game of a booger.

She was also Tetch (Mad Hatter. Doesnt deserve the name) and Mr. J’s, Jerimah’s, last victim before they died. Then some idiots revived Jerimah. She hates his cult a lot, okay.

Everyone was on high alert and trying to keep her inside. The thing is, she hates being inside. She’s inside for designing, sure. Research? She’ll live.

But 24/7 inside time?

Never a good combo with her.

Rose’s plants may be snitches, but they seemed to agree on the over coddling. She’s ten, can break phones by tapping them, and is defiantely more off her stickers than on at the moment.

The one on her was uring her into some alleyway. If she was reading the movement pattern right, a gang fight.

Lovely, she usually did these with some sort of supervision but they were all being rude and she needed time outside.

She checked her belt, a few pairs of ball weights tied together with one chain each to make bolas clipped to back. She has a taser in hand, and a few rubber bullet loaded gun on one hip and a stun gun her size in the other. She had a packet of zipties and rope up each sleeve. Easy to giftwrap and humiliate bad people, like Batman does.

She blinked once when she saw—new player? In a bright red full face helmet that looks horrible. And he’s holding that gun make all wrong to max out usage. Ugh, amatuers.

Some part of her groaned about a potential run-in with Batman and his new Robin—she was pissed about Tim not telling her still—and decided this was as good an anger management as any. New vigilante, maybe the sirens would help him find a team.

She snuck up behind a few members, quick to grab the guns and move them out of reach. No need to give anyone playing possum an easy out, right—she saw a mix of her people in with the gang. She needed to teip this guy up before he hurt the RKC street kids and honoraries tangled up in this.

“Hey helmet, if you’re gonna shoot them you’re holding the gun wrong.”

Helmet turned to see her. She didnt grab her usual harley-knock off outfit for helping today. She wanted to be Pixie Pop for a bit. And if the Rogues forgot that she’s Pixie well, better for her, right? Pixie just wore her hair like Tinkerbell and wore a bit of green.

The guy he was aiming at made to run.

Marinette grabbed a makeshift bolas and threw it at his knees. She recognized him from one of the RKC hit lists—human trafficker. He fell with them wrapped around tight and defiantely injured bith his knees with how the weights hit him.

“I, Pixie Pop?” Weird, no one had seen her as Pixie in two years. How’d he know it was her?

“Yeah. Havent been around much lately.” She threw another bola at another guy. “You new?”

“Talk after i kill these guys.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, because really?

She threw a knife to screw his aim into non-lethal on one guy. “Kick their ass first, some RKC are in here.”

Helmet oddly did as she said, switching from guns to—is that. A. Sword?

She twisted to punch the guy sneaking up on her. Helmet threw a sword and landed it in his shoulder.

“Thanks!”

“Holy shot you’re really here this time.”

“Did you get hit with feargas as a baby or something?” Her partner being prone to dellusions and good with weapons was a bad thing.

“Just came back from the dead is all.”

marinette hit the guy going for helmet with her stun gun.

“That’ll do it!”

Helmet turned to one of the guys, gun at the ready. She had a feeling Helmet needed a lot of help, or else one of Rose’s agents would be down.

“If you know about pixies, you should know she got an upgrade to having some trust dust.”

Marinette walked over to the guy, letting her tracker plant take a look. The flower bloomed and he got a face full of ‘filter-less pollen’ that’s as close to a truth serum as Rose could make. After all, people can turn sides.

“Truth pollen?” Helmet was staring at her closely.

“Yep.” Marinette turned to her victim. “Are you helping the traffickers?”

“Does infiltration and killing them count as helping?”

Helmet stared at them then.

“Which team?”

“HKT ma’am. How did you get rose to give you one of those?”

“Think for a minute who she gives these to.”

“Comanding officers of the the RKC reconn and interigation but there’s only 15 and i met them all when i joined in the fall.”

“Im the summer help when theyre not puppy gaurding. Now, i have to do zipties on the traffickers, think you can help?”

“I lost coordination from the pollen.”

“Of course you did.”

Marinette turned to see Helmet staring at her. Like she should be dead, not the new revival guy.

“Good enough.”

“I thought only Poison Ivy could do things like that.”

“I have a badass team, well, when they aren’t going overboard. One week kidnapped and suddenly im made of glass.”

“Pixie you are what, ten?”

“So? Two of my best friends went missing becuase no one stepped up, one of them resurfaced as an idiot a year later but still.”

Helmet stopped then. “Two?”

“Hero stalker went after our big brother vanished.. he came back as an idiot.”

Helmet paused. “Hey, you check the others and i’ll help you drop off the good ones at a doctor or something.”

“Zipties are at the ready. Mind doing your share?”

Helmet did as she asked, working with her until all was squared away.

“Okay, my tracker gave off a signal to the RKC to gather our guys here, and—why are bleeding?”

Helmet looked up at her then. “I am?”

“... you’re coming with me since i dont know if you need a transfusion, but i know a guy who can help.”

“I’m driving.”

“On what?”

“Motorcycle.”

Marinette let him walk her to it, and she got on first. He ‘drove’ them while the plant told her when to turn. They ended up at her dad’s clinic as ‘Mr. Smith’. He was so grounding her.

“Smith, i need help,” she tried.

Her dad came out and paled when he saw her carrying Helmet. Before he passed out he let her take it off. “Red hoodie... oh god he said he was revived.”

Her father worked out the blood bags while she checked the wound, bullet still in there. She got it out with tweezers. No major damage to the muscles and shit. How many scars did he have? Pre or post revival?

When he came to she turned to her father and said one thing.

“So this is my new brother. Dont try to get out of it, he kept me alive when i was comstantly pixie, and you said if he was in a bad place then you’d take him in, no questions asked.”

Strange sighed, nodded, and went back to fixing Helmet up.

The next day he was forced moved into an extra room by hers. Somehow there was already clothes his size and style in it.

“Pixie...”

“Im determined and my honorary aunt is a cat burglar.”

Helmet hugged her.

“So for the documents, what do you want to go by?”

Helmet said he didnt want it to be obvious, given who he was before.

“Its not like you were robin.”

“I was.”

“.... i know two robins now, pre-robining. What is my life?”

“ you are ten, calm down. And you knew dick?”

“Met him as Nightwing, not very friendly. But uh, remember hero stalker?”

“The idiot who followed me and B?”

“Yeah, so funny thing, it was a thing that he wanted to be Robin when you went off from Gotham, and then he somehow managed to convince bats to take him on.”

“That Child is Robin.”

“Will be another hero soon if he knows what’s good for him—he’s too easy to make.”

“Wait, you know who he is-is or—”

“I know 5 secret identities and want to lodge a formal complaint about heroes having no secret identity game.”

“Youre ten. I refuse to let you deal with legal things.”

“But illegal is still on the table?”

“I am a vigilante, of course it is.”

“Good, so can we tlak about how dumb Supes secret id is? I photoshoped glasses on as a joke and looked at my file and knew.”

“Wait have they found you yet?”

“No? I dont think so. Not the mom and step dad or father one yet.”

“But its.”

“I know, but i can keep multiple secret identities. They cant handle one. What is this bull they drop in my lap? No masks for two of them, and the three with cant even manage a basic gait switch?”

“I am so glad you noticed too.”

“Also we need to intervene with Hero Stalker.”

“Does your father know-know or...”

“Knows i know, but knows im not telling even in death.”

“Fair. So, heads up i am going to yell at the JL after killing B for impact.”

“How about beating him up instead and kidnapping Hero Stalker? Bats is fine just needs an adult working with him.”

“Maybe. If my mind wasnt so fucked i’d send the Dick a text or something about this, but i think he hates me so that probably wouldnt work.”

“We have planning time, that’s what my house arrest is good for. Now name.”

“... i want to go by Jay.”

“James work?”

“Sure.”

“James “Jay” Smith then. And we are fixing your vilagante outfit.”

“What’s wrong with it.”

“Your helmet has a nose. And the who this is shit for discreet armour. I’ll get a rant in fifteen on armor history from a fashion obsessed friend and make something for you using that, ok?”

“Do i have a choice?”

“I am your little sister offically. resistance is futile.”

—

So the long awaited return of Red Hoodie/Red Hood/Jason Todd.

For refrence (as age is weird here) Jason looks 14/15 here, but due to dead years is technically 18

Tim is 12

Marinette is 10

Dick is 20something.

Bruce is 30something

Heads up, this will be a two parter for this summer. As i love the next part but need sleep.

@ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @emeraldpuffguide @dast218 @weird-pale-blonde-person @mystery-5-5

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Downfall Of Us All: Chapter 9

Downfall Of Us All

Chapter 9 

AN: Things are going to get dark from now on, if anyone has triggers feel free to skip to the next part. Thank you to @jtargaryen18​, who helped me write this story and I credit her with co - writing this story with me.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Breeding, 

The police officers were in the front of the car and they were on their way. Tony was trying not to think worst case scenario. Something was off. Happy wasn't dead. He'd get to the bottom of it. Where the hell was Pepper? "Today is your first day at the compound?" he asked Lilia, When she nodded, he asked, "What do you do?" "AI engineering," she said with some confidence. That got his attention. "So, you're the new addition to the AI team? Huh."

"Yes, I have two engineering degrees and two medical degrees, I graduated from MIT." Liliya know explained quietly, Tony nodded as they reached the police station and were shown to the morgue. Where the hell was Pepper? He looked at the morgue attendant who gently pulled the sheet away, revealing the battered and beaten face of Happy. He felt like someone had punched him, he felt sick. Happy was really dead. "It's him, it's Happy. How did this happen?" Tony asked quickly, he wanted to know exactly what had happened to his friend. "That's what we're trying to find out, Mr Stark. We'll keep in touch with you and try contacting Miss Potts." Olivia reassured gently, Tony nodded numbly at her words. Lilia gently led him away and was relieved to see that a car had parked up to pick them up. Tony gave Steve and Natasha a grateful smile, as the four of them drove back to the compound in silence.

"Do you think Tony's ok, Bucky?" Sophie asked quietly, she was sweating from the training session and was trying to block Bucky's punches. Bucky sighed quietly, truthfully, he didn't think Tony was coping very well with the fact that one of his few friends had been murdered. He wondered where Pepper was? Sighing, he shook his head and gave Sophie a sad smile. "I don't think so, doll. Tony's gone through a lot this year, he saw Peter disintegrate in front of him, and then Pepper didn't want kids with him. It's been a rough year for him," Bucky said quietly, and swallowed. "And in 2016, he found out HYDRA used me to kill his parents in 1991. That's how your father got injected with the super-soldier serum, HYDRA wanted more Winter Soldiers." He explained grimly and sighed. "I've hurt so many people, Sophie. I don't know if I'll ever be able to make amends to atone for what I've done, but I want to." He said firmly, Sophie smiled. "I think you've already making amends, Bucky. You're considered a hero, and you've saved lives," Sophie reassured, as she looked at the uneven bars. She'd always loved this piece of equipment and had many female gymnastic heroes for this apparatus. "Are you going to show off your routine, that won you a gold World Medal, Soph?" Grace asked excited, proud of her sister. Sophie laughed and nodded.

Hopping up on the lower bar, Sophie mounted the bars, spinning then kipping up the top bar. A pirouette gave her momentum and then it was all flowing from there. Sophie went along from one move to the next, the entire routine as much a part of her as breathing. From Jaeger and then to Pak Salto, keeping her legs straight, keeping her toes pointed. Oblivious to the small crowd that had gathered to watch, she got ready for the big moves at the end. Adding an extra twist to the end of her dismount, she managed the landing without stepping out, caught off guard by the applause at the end. Bucky hadn't been able to take his eyes off her. Between dancing with her last night, to watching her twirl above him, he was fascinated with her. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she'd looked but had no idea what to say and the moment was lost when Clint, who stood behind Grace, winked at Sophie. "Hot stuff, but could you take down a man with those moves?" he challenged her. What he actually did was get the attention of both sisters, Grace giving him a playful shove back. "Let's find out," she told him. Sophie followed them back to the mat and Bucky grinned, watching Clint face the prospect of going against both of them. "Not what I was looking for, but okay," he joked. Then he looked to Bucky across the mat. "Help a fellow out?" Bucky shook his head, folding his arms across his chest and watching the two women begin to circle the archer. Clint winked at Grace. "You'll take it easy on me, right?" "When did I agree to that?" Grace told him, fighting a smile. Sophie came at him first and Bucky was proud to see her using moves he'd shown her. Grace followed suit until the sisters were circling him, making him really work for it as she fought off one and then the other. He blocked punches, he took Sophie's legs out from under her. It was Grace who caught him off guard, catching him with an elbow to throw him off balance. Sophie went in with Natasha's scissor takedown and Clint was flat on his back on the floor. "Damn," he called, staring up at them in a daze. "You're fast learners, I'll give you that." "I'll say," Natasha told them, no one having noticed when she entered the gym. "Sophie that was perfect." Sophie turned to smile over her shoulder at the spy, pleased that she'd nailed it that time. "How's Tony?" Bucky asked Steve as he approached. Steve shook his head. "Happy's gone and then he got more bad news on the way back from the morgue." "What happened?" Bucky asked concerned.

"Pepper sent him divorce papers, his lawyers are dealing with it but it's hitting him hard." Steve said quietly, everyone froze at his words as Tony entered with a dark haired young woman that had red highlights in her hair. "Everyone, this is Lilia Dumitrescu who will be with the AI team and will be working with Jemma, and Helen Cho." Tony announced smoothly, but everyone could tell he was near breaking point. Clint stepped forward to console him, but he quickly left to go in the direction of the lab. Everyone watched him go in silence, before Lilia spoke up quietly. "He's been quiet since we've come back from the morgue, he's only spoken twice.," Lilia explained quietly, her grey eyes concerned. "I'll go check on him, see if he's alright." Clint said quietly, nodding in thanks to the young woman who nodded at him.

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While Clint went to talk to Tony, Sophie and Grace with the help of the team decided to cheer Tony up. So, they decided to make him a cake. "Jarvis, what are Tony's favourite cake flavours?" Grace asked, and Sophie had wanted to do something for Tony in thanks for him saving their shop. If Tony hadn't bought their shop, then they would have lost their mother's business. It would have devastated them, if that had come to pass. "Mr Stark enjoys a tiramisu, and his mother's chocolate cake with a salted caramel frosting. Miss Drăgoi," Jarvis said kindly, Grace nodded as she and Sophie began baking the cake. "Is that chocolate cake?" Bucky asked hopefully, Sophie laughed while Grace smiled at the dark haired young man that was making Sophie like her old self. "Yes, a chocolate cake with salted caramel filling. We wanted to do a cake for all of you, and Tony." Sophie explained softly, when they saw Grace coming out looking sad. "Clint, Peter and Steve are with Tony. He's not doing great, Pepper's signed the divorce papers, and apparently she wants the Malibu house," Grace said quietly. Peter looked sad at hearing this, while Sophie and Bucky exchanged a grim look of understanding. Lilia looked saddened at what was happening to Tony and looked at Natasha who looked troubled.

Clint and Steve were both carefully helping Tony out of the room, after he confessed that he'd been tempted to have a drink. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "I can't stop being Iron Man, I can't. It's who I am, and I lost Pepper because she didn't understand." Tony said finally, tired and exhausted. He missed Happy.

"What happened to Happy?" Clint asked, still trying to catch up with everything. Peter tucked away his phone. Tony glanced up from there he slumped in the chair. "I don't know. At the moment, I don't know. I don't even know where Pepper is." "When's the last time you saw her?" Steve asked quietly. "When she slapped me across the face yesterday in front of most of you," Tony told him. Then his expression perked up. "I tried to call, and she didn't answer but considering that she'd divorcing me, I didn't think too much of that." Clint and Steve exchanged a concerned look. "Then she didn't show up at the office this morning," Tony rambled on. "Wait…" Pulling out his phone, he combed through the screens frantically. When he stopped, his eyes widened. "Happy was her driver last night when she left. Nothing new there. No one has heard from either of them since," Tony told them. "Happy is…" "Right." Steve glanced at Clint. "Where was she going?" "I don't know." And he looked sad he didn't know, calling Pepper's assistant. "Hey, Carmen, it's Tony. Where's Pepper?" Tony's face drained of colour and he stood. "When's the last time you heard from her? Hey, it's okay. We're going to find her, Carmen. She's been so upset with me being a total idiot that she's probably tucked in somewhere to recover from it. Okay? I'll be in touch soon. Thank you." "Shit, her assistant hasn't seen her since before she was here," Tony told Steve. Steve nodded, springing into action. "Tony, why don't you stay put in case she shows up or tries to make contact. We'll see what we can find." "Steve, she's okay, isn't she?" Tony sounded uncharacteristically scared. "We'll find her," Steve assured him, leading Clint and Peter from the lab. Bruce was heading towards them. "Bruce, Pepper's missing. Can you stay here and keep an eye on Tony?" Bruce's eyes widened in alarm. "I thought they were getting divorced?" "That's also true but right now, we don't know where she is." "Maybe she's just… upset?" Bruce offered. "Hope so," Steve said, leading Clint and Peter back to the living area of the compound. They found Bucky, Sophie, and Grace in the kitchen, working away on something. Nat sprawled over the sofa in the living room, watching television. "Nat," Steve called. Rising from the couch, she made her way into the kitchen to meet them. "What's up?" "Pepper fought with Tony in front of last night, here at the compound," Steve began. "She went out to the car, Happy was driving. Happy's body has been located. No one, including Pepper's assistant, has heard from her since." "Nat, take Bucky and Sophie and find out everything you can about where and how Happy was found," Steve directed. "Comb the car for any detail on Pepper's whereabouts." Nat nodded, Bucky patted Sophie on the shoulder, tipping his head towards the oven. "It's almost done, she told him. We can finish it later." "Clint, you and Grace go check out Pepper's office, her apartment, everything. See if you can find any trace of her." Clint nodded. "Get ready," he told Grace. "What about me, Cap?" Peter asked, looking eager to help. "You're with me," Steve informed him. "Let's go." "Right," Peter said. "I'm with you. Okay." Dashing around the counter, he hugged Sophie then Grace. "Be careful guys." Sophie and Grace exchanged a glance. They were heading on their first Avenger mission.

"We'll be careful Peter, you take care of yourself and Steve." Sophie said reassuringly, Peter nodded and left with Steve while she said goodbye to Grace and Clint. She hoped Pepper was alright.

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Clint and Grace drove to Pepper's apartment and parked outside the expensive building. Grace would guess that this condo apartment costed at least, millions of dollars. She and Sophie could never afford to live here, even if their business did pick up wealthy customers. They walked up to Pepper's floor, and saw the penthouse was untouched aside from the bedroom. There were clothes on the bed, but something felt off. "This feels staged, I don't know why but it feels fake." Grace said quietly, Clint nodded in agreement as they looked around and found a letter. It was addressed to Tony, and it was in Pepper's neat handwriting. Grace read it, while Clint searched around for any hint of where she could have gone. 'Dear Tony, Our marriage hasn't been working ever since you said that you wanted children, and I'm not ready for that commitment. Plus, I don't think it's fair having children while you're with the Avengers, it's too dangerous. I'm going away for a few months, to get my head cleared until the divorce is finalised. I hope you have a good life, Tony. Love, Pepper.' "We'll give this to Tony and the others, let's go check out her office." Clint said quietly, Grace nodded and they both left the penthouse silently. Grace couldn't help but get a sense that something terrible was about to happen. They drove to Pepper's office which was in Stark Tower and were shown to her office. Nothing was out of place, but Clint saw that someone had recently used the computer recently. The last log in, had been 11:30 PM and that had been to book a reservation at a hotel in England, called the Lanesborough Hotel. She'd bought one plane ticket with first class, and he sent this information to Tony who sighed quietly. "I'll tell the police what we know, thanks Clint and Grace." He said quietly, and hung up. "Poor Tony, he must be heartbroken," Grace said sadly, her blue eyes sympathetic as they left the building and got in the car. "Yeah, he really loved her. This doesn't make any sense, why would Pepper leave Happy and go to another car?" Clint said thoughtfully, as they drove back to the base.

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Bucky, Natasha and Sophie were searching the black limo that Happy had been found in and found nothing so far. Sophie couldn't help but feel like something was missing. She'd been searching under the car seat, when she used one of the gloves to pick up a Stark iPhone. It was still charged, but there were at least fifteen voice messages. She cautiously pressed the button, and her blood ran cold at the voice speaking. It was a Sokovian accent. "Hail HYDRA and the Red Skull!" The voice declared, before five gunshots echoed, and she heard someone slump to the ground before the voicemail cut off. She walked to where Bucky and Natasha had been searching and held out the phone to them. Bucky saw she was trembling, and her voice was a whisper. "I think it was HYDRA who killed Happy, Nat and Bucky."

Natasha's eyes narrowed, stretching out a gloved hand for the phone and slid it into an evidence bag. "Let's get this back to the compound and review everything on it." Bucky shook his head. "So, they killed Happy because Pepper was their target. Are they going to hold her for ransom? What is it they're after?" Natasha's gaze cut to Sophie and back. "You think they want us? Grace and myself?" "Fuck," Bucky muttered. "Maybe," Natasha told them as they finished sweeping the car. "You were hidden well here in the city and your parents knew that. I know it's hard to learn everything they kept from you all these years, but they had a reason for hiding things. If you didn't know, you wouldn't go looking." Sophie nodded. That felt right. Their mother, in particular, had been so overprotective of her girls. "Just help me do something," Sophie asked them both. "Help me protect Grace. After learning what she went through, I'm just afraid… what if they want her back? Bucky wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she welcomed the comforting weight of it. "We're not going to let them take Grace. Or you. Try not to worry, doll." Natasha smirked, turning back to dive into the car. When she didn't come back out quickly, Sophie and Bucky exchanged a glance. "Did you find something else?" Sophie asked. Nat rose from where she'd been digging beneath the driver's seat, holding up an empty syringe. Pulling out another evidence bag, she tucked it away. "Come on," Nat told them. "Let's get back."

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Tagging list: @jtargaryen18​, @sapphirescrolls​, @marvelfansworld​, @queenoftheunderdark​, @nomadicpixel​, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​, and @kitkatd7​ and @my-favourite-fics​

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

Black Coffee: Part 2

Summary: Coffee aroma surrounds you as you prepare for a long day of studying in your favorite coffee shop. Your focus is shattered by a handsome stranger demanding a very large favor-pretend to be his girlfriend. Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader Warning(s): Cursing. Innocent fluff. Word Count: 1,466 Beta Reader: My darling honey bun, @supersoldiersruined-me Notes: I wasn’t planning on making this a series...and yet there are now 4 parts to the story in my drafts. ;) 

Previously:

“You have to come tonight. If you don’t, Sam will never let me hear the end of it.”

“Hold the phone, dude. I was just trying to get my morning coffee, not get kidnapped by some strange man…” An attractive and pleasant smelling strange man.

“Let’s not exaggerate, doll. A rooftop barbeque with the Avengers is hardly kidnapping.”

Your eyes go wide. You know who the strange cute man is. How did you not see it before? If this was Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, they had to have been-shit.

“I had coffee with Captain America and Falcon. Cool cool cool.”

Bucky smirks at your nonchalance. “Does that mean you’re willing go eat ribs with me tonight?”

“I guess I could use a study break.”

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

The large, cozy booth right in front of the picture windows at the coffeeshop Quay 4 had been occupied most of the day. You had set up all your vast array of study materials when a handsome stranger had interrupted your schoolwork. The materials had been hurriedly shuffled away when two of the man's friends had arrived expecting to meet his girlfriend.

You now knew the man was none other than Bucky Barnes. His two friends had been Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson of the Avengers. A handful of hours after the initial encounter, you were still trying to wrap your head around it. Literally. Bucky had even drawn you a diagram.

Your notebook, highlighters, pens, and sticky notes were all strewn about the table once more. You ached to put them back into the organized rows you’d had them in earlier before your morning had gotten turned upside down. Each time you went to grab one of the writing utensils, it seemed it was the one Bucky needed to snatch up to add to his diagrams and notes.

“So right around here I pulled Steve out of the river,” He circles violently on the makeshift timeline. “And then the whole civil war thing. But I don’t fully understand what happened there.” He uses a red pen to scribble multiple question marks a bit further down the line. “Then there was this stretch here in Wakanda and now I’m better.”

He looks up at you hopefully.

“So…after the river you were back with Hydra for a bit?”

“No no no. I went to Bucharest!” He taps the notebook at a point on the timeline where a purple circle is drawn. “Remember the nice plum merchant? But I definitely didn’t bomb T’Chaka in Vienna.”

“Is that purple circle supposed to remind me of the plums or the bombs?”

He tosses the highlighter across the table before burying his head in his hands. “I give up. This isn’t gonna work.”

“Cut me some slack, Bucky. I’m trying to fabricate an entire relationship in an afternoon and your life isn’t exactly the easiest to memorize.”

“I know. It’s fine.” He meets your eyes with his piercing blue ones. His brows are knitted tightly. “Just forget the whole thing. This was horribly stupid for me to ask you.” The hurt in his tone makes you wish you could take back the impatient rant before it had tumbled from your mouth.

He’s dejected. His shoulders slump as he finishes the dregs of his second black coffee. You’d like to give up. It’d be easier to call it a day and go home, leaving the strange and stunning man to figure out the dilemma without you. Something compels you to do otherwise. The man in front of you was one of the most feared assassins turned superhero. He didn’t look like one. He was soft, eager to please, and fiercely loyal to his friends. In the handful of hours spent together in the coffeeshop you’d already seen a glimpse of his complexity. Any annoyance you held prior fades into compassion.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Bucky,” you begin hesitantly. “While all your past is certainly important to who you are now, it maybe isn’t the most important for our relationship.”

“Meaning?”

“I got the gist of what you’ve been through. It’s a shitstorm.” He chuckles darkly. His laughter brings a smile to your lips. “Our meeting and relationship all started a month ago. That’s what you’d said to your friends. What’s current Bucky like?”

“First of all, doll. You don’t need to do air quotes every time you say our relationship. I’m in on the ruse, remember?” His posture seems lighter than before; less deflated. “You make a good point though.”

“I’ve been known to do that from time to time.” You say with a smirk.

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

As it turns out, you and Bucky have a lot of things in common. He’s incredibly jealous you’ve gone back to school for a graduate degree. He misses learning and spends a lot of free time at the public library. He’s currently teaching himself what he insists is introductory mechanical and electrical engineering. You were shocked you’d never seen him there and more surprised of the subject matter he’d chosen to read.

You both have dogs. Bucky’s is a large (after seeing some photos, you correct him to extra-large) fluffy mutt of some type. Her name is Ruby. She’s combat and therapy trained. You also have a mutt, but more medium sized. His name is Rufus. He is not combat trained and instead prefers to assault your face with kisses and storm the borders of your bed.

Bucky Barnes is a gentle soul. He may present a hard, sarcastic exterior but beneath all that he’s a giant teddy bear. He claims to be an excellent breakfast chef, will inhale a pint of butter pecan ice cream, and often has conversations with Banner about some of the new scientific developments of the modern age. He speaks fondly of his teammates. His “found family” as he calls them. When dusk starts to creep its way over the river, you’re excited to meet them all. You had already texted your next-door neighbor to make sure Rufus would get dinner and be walked. You swallow the last of your anxieties, pack your backpack, and make the walk with Bucky towards the tower.

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

“School during the summer? Sounds like torture to me.” You’re nibbling on some delectable ribs courtesy of Sam Wilson. You’ve settled into an enjoyable conversation with the grill master himself, Clint, Bruce, and Natasha. Bucky’s over by the snack bar with Steve and Tony.

“That’s grad school for you. This is the end of my first year. One year more and I’ll be done!”

“Would you ever do a doctorate?” Bruce asks.

“I think this program is more than enough for now.” Bucky had silently joined you at your side; Ruby trotting closely behind him.

“Don’t convince her to do more school. I hardly see her as it is.” He jokes convincingly and leans in to quickly peck your temple. A flush rises from your chest to cheeks. You two hadn’t discussed physical affection. How the hell had you forgotten such a crucial detail? It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, the patch of skin where his lips had planted seemed to ache for more. All of you did. You clearly didn’t have your head on straight. Bucky, despite being a stunning physical specimen, was still a stranger. You thought he was hot. Of course. There was no way you could have actual feelings for a man that just this morning had plopped himself into your life.

The barbeque hadn’t been what you expected. Tony should have been the cocky asshole you’d seen on the news. Steve should have had a stick up his ass. Natasha should have been cold and Russian. Was Russian even a personality trait? Everything you thought was wrong.

The Avengers carefully crafted personas for television and the press were shrugged off here in their home. Steve cussed more than anyone on the team. Tony, while still a bit too sure of himself, was one of the most generous hosts you’d ever met. Natasha teased Peter like a mother. Sam had given you such a large hug when you entered you thought your ribs would never recover. Everyone was so loving. You may make it out of this date with the fake girlfriend gambit still intact.

Bucky hands you another plate of food. You were near full to bursting but the food was delicious. Sam had not only made multiple racks of smoked ribs but chopped brisket, pulled pork, and a handful of different homemade sauces. This plate had a pulled pork sandwich, potato salad, and baked beans.

“Pulled pork with no coleslaw, spicy not sweet sauce, and the German potato salad not regular.” The two of you had remembered to run over both of your preferences for the usual backyard barbeque spread. Even so, you were proud Bucky had remembered. You said a thank you and speared a potato.

“Anything for you, darlin’.” His palm trails down your back, squeezes once at your hips, and disappears. He’s returned to his conversation with Steve. Your skin was on fire. Sure, the sweltering July heat contributed, but this heat stirred from deep inside you. How the hell had this doofy idiot managed to weasel his way into your heart in such a quick period of time? The sickly-sweet pet names would usually have you nauseated and here you were nearly swooning.

Your revere is interrupted. The contents of your plate go flying. The previously conversing group scream and run in terror. Chaos has ensued. You hear the deep boof from Ruby before everything is muffled. 

Darkness.

[flightfoot]

We’re The Same ch. 2

AO3/FFN

Oh yeah, a little background on Maya; her father's an assassin, and also an abusive asshole. He went after Damian, torturing him and taunting him into killing him (apparently. I haven't gotten my hands on that comic unfortunately). So Maya went after Damian for "revenge" supposedly, saying that she'd kill him after he'd finished his redemption quest, but that she'd help him in the meantime because he CLEARLY needed help.

...yeah, she's never killed anyone before, and it was really blatantly obvious that she wasn't going to go through with it even then. She was just paying lip service to what she thought she was "supposed" to do. Later once they've pretty much finished the quest, she ended up being the one to comfort Damian when he believed himself to be irrevocably stained with blood, forgave him, declared herself his sister, and gave him a hug.

I wish I had more material to draw from for Maya, I like what little I've seen of her.

Disclaimer: This is a Lovesquare fic, with Identity Reveal, Hawkmoth Reveal, and Hawkmoth Defeat. It is NOT a salt fic.

Thanks to @mini-minou for betaing!

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Damian peered up at the manor in front of him. Huge, imposing –

“How quaint.”

– if you didn’t happen to grow up as the prince of a society of assassins and the son of a billionaire, that is.

He took stock of his surroundings. There were cameras at the gate, but ONLY at the gate it seemed.

“Tt. What brain-dead simpleton designed this security system? Does the owner REALLY think this will be sufficient to catch any criminal infiltrating the place? Idiot.”

He launched himself onto a rooftop, getting a better angle to see the whole manor.

Two things stood out from the new vantage point; an open window that seemed to lead to a boy’s bedroom, and a weird patch of wall that wasn’t quite flat. To the casual observer it might appear to just be some strange design on the wall, perhaps an artistic choice.

Damian was NOT a casual observer.

He narrowed his eyes. “Things just got a little more interesting.”

He swung over to the patch of wall, running his fingers over it. Grooves spiraled across it, fitting together in just such a way that…

“I see. So this patch of wall is some sort of covering that can expand and contract. Now why would a perfectly ordinary, everyday citizen – well, aside from being rich – have one of these?”

There was nothing more he could do with that patch of wall. Time to investigate the window.

Swinging back around the manor, he took a better look at the room… and its occupants.

He narrowed his eyes. Seems I wasn’t far off about the spirit of the cat.

Inside a boy typed away at his computer, looking up news reports about Robin. Not a huge surprise, seeing as how the boy was almost certainly Chat Noir.

Slightly MORE surprising was the tiny black cat-like creature stuffing his face with cheese.

Seriously, how was he even eating that much, that cheese was bigger than his entire body?!

Oh wait, magic. Stupid question.

So he’d almost certainly found Chat Noir. Not exactly why the tracker had disappeared, but he had a start.

Time to do a little digging.

He brought out his phone and got to work.

Hm. Seemed like this mansion belonged to Gabriel Agreste, a world-famous fashion designer. He’d been reclusive ever since the disappearance of his wife nearly a year ago, only making a handful of public appearances. Judging from what little he could dig up, he seemed like a rather cold man who didn’t put up with anything he considered nonsensical or silly, such as when he was called into a game show without apparently having agreed to it. Damian actually agreed with his displeasure at being tricked into participating, but his tone and body language… it was a little too familiar for his liking.

There wasn’t much info on the wife, Emilie. Apparently her maiden name was Graham De Vanily. Her family owned a studio called Graham films. From her few public appearances, it appeared that she’d gradually been getting sicker and weaker over the months before her disappearance, though there was no news of her being diagnosed with any illness.

And then there was the final member of the family, Adrien Agreste, AKA Chat Noir. A fourteen year old model, he had plenty of professional photos and lots of celebrity appearances.

Damian’s eyes narrowed. 

Plenty of celebrity appearances… but little outside of that. Not until a few months ago, when he started going to public school. Then he started being tagged in other people’s photos, being talked about as a friend. Before that the only person his age who seemed to know him on a personal level was Chloe Bourgeois, and it took only about a minute of research to figure out that she was a stuck-up rich brat. It was always possible that his personal life was just kept private before this, but… well, Damian’s instincts were telling him that something was very, very wrong here.

Time to get a little more hands-on. Luckily the security of the mansion was ABYSMAL. Seriously, if Gabriel had lived in Gotham, both he and Adrien would have been kidnapped dozens of times in the last few years.

He didn’t need to make much of an effort. A few minutes after he’d put down the phone and started surveilling the mansion, a woman – judging by her appearance, most likely Nathalie, Gabriel Agreste’s assistant, opened the door. The little cat creature disappeared into Adrien’s shirt, likely to conceal himself from her, and Adrien left the room. Luckily for Damian, he left the window open.

He quietly alighted in the room. It was huge and had a lot of stuff in it, but nothing of interest, except-

He followed his nose. And wished he hadn’t.

“YUCK!”

So that cat creature had an entire hoard of the stinkiest cheeses that Damian had ever smelled in his life. And judging by how huge the stash was, he ate a LOT.

He swiftly closed the cabinet door. If anything else was in there, it wasn’t worth sacrificing his nose to find it.

His next discovery was a little less nauseating to his senses.

Damian pulled out a photo from the trophy where Adrien had hidden it and several other similar photos.

So the flirtations weren’t just banter then. Great, he’s lovesick.

Damian rolled his eyes and put the photo back. It was always a pain to deal with couples on a team, they were always making googly eyes at each other and being gross and NOT concentrating on the mission.

There wasn’t time to investigate much else – not without risking discovery. He planted a few bugs and cameras and moved on, entering the air duct.

He pulled up the floor plans of the building to use as a map… and soon frowned. The floorplan differed slightly from what he’d seen from the outside, especially with that strange covering. Not TOO big a surprise – that covering was obviously meant to conceal SOMETHING – but the size of the difference was pretty staggering. It seemed like at least a 500 square foot room had been secretly added to the mansion and NO ONE had noticed.

But even that didn’t explain what he saw in front of him.

He frowned. Now where was THIS little fork in the road supposed to go?

The duct split, one piece of it following the regular floor plan, as shown in public records, and the other decidedly NOT following that, instead curving steeply downwards.

A secret place that – judging by how long and how steep the ductwork was – lay underneath a mansion? If it was some sort of cave he should get Bruce to sue for copyright infringement.

It was not a cave.

A huge chamber stretched before him. It looked almost like a mausoleum, with its high ceiling, ornate windows, and general over-the-top atmosphere.

A cult, perhaps? They were fairly common – WAY too common – in Gotham, but he’d been hoping to maybe not run into them as often elsewhere.

He should have known better. Sheep existed everywhere in the world.

Still, if it was a cult, it must be a small one. The walkway wouldn’t be able to fit more than one or MAYBE two people, and the “island” at the end of it wasn’t exactly huge. Speaking of which…

He walked to the end, peering at the closed pod. A human-sized pod that was obviously supposed to be the focal point of the room underneath the manor of a millionaire who he strongly suspected wasn’t Father of the Year, when his wife had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Yeah this boded well and wasn’t suspicious in the slightest.

He prepared to hack the pod to open it up, or at least to get information on what was inside, but discovered there was no need. There was no security on it, it only required a button press to open.

Seems like Gabriel Agreste hadn’t thought to include any contingency measures for someone breaking into his lair.

The pod doors opened, revealing pretty much what Damian had expected.

Because of COURSE Gabriel was keeping his “missing” wife in a pod underneath the manor. Naturally. Why wouldn’t he? That’s a perfectly normal thing for a perfectly normal man to do.

Question was, was she alive and in some sort of coma or suspended animation, or dead and being kept preserved?

He examined her closely, checking her for signs of degradation and any sign of life. If she was breathing it was so low as to be undetectable, and her heart rate also appeared nonexistent. However, while her vital signs were missing, she appeared to be in good health otherwise, with no sign of rot or decay at all.

Suspended animation it was then.

After taking a picture, he closed the pod. If she was in suspended animation it may still be possible to revive her. He didn’t want to be responsible for more death.

A small insect flew by – a white butterfly.

What was a butterfly doing here? Then again, what was ANY of this doing here, especially the foliage.

Wait… a white butterfly – like the one that had been released when the akuma was purified.

A butterfly emerged from a cocoon on a nearby branch. Dozens of similar cocoons hung nearby.

A reclusive millionaire who was hardly seen out of his house, two massive rooms that didn’t appear on the floor plan, one of which housed his supposedly missing wife, and dozens of the same type of butterfly that Hawkmoth used to create his akumas?

It was possible that Gabriel Agreste wasn’t Hawkmoth. It was also possible that Damian would spontaneously grow wings and decide to become an opera star. Both possibilities seemed equally likely.

Might as well set up some cameras and bugs and then get out of here. If Gabriel descended the elevator, he’d have trouble leaving without being spotted. Wouldn’t be a problem if Gabriel was only down here for a short period of time, but if he wasn’t…

Swiftly he returned to the duct, heading back to the surface.

As he crawled around the vents, he left numerous bugs everywhere he could without leaving the vent, along with tiny cameras at each vent opening. When preparing to break into the lair of a supervillain, it paid to be prepared.

He shot off a quick text to Ducard, telling her to meet up with him at a certain rooftop he’d spotted that had some good cover. They needed to exchange notes.

It was time to take down a supervillain.

[sick-raven]

Ghosts of the past - Chapter 1

Batman fanfiction

Characters: Jonathan Crane, OC - Miranda Bradbury, Bruce Wayne, John Constantine

About: Miranda Bradbury moved to Gotham for a few reasons - to enjoy her career as an assassin, and to face her fears. Who else should help her with hallucinations that follow her than the fear expert Jonathan Crane? However, the doctor-patient relationship is very unstable one as both of them have to fight with their past, their present, and Batman.

Author note: I was trying to figure out some fancy way to describe the story. It's just a porn with a plot about two sick freaks. Enjoy.

Fair warnings: Suicide attempt, rape mentions, nsfw, violence, light bdsm

Status: Finished, will post next chapters when in mood.

Can also read at AO3.

Chapter 1

It was a dark evening in Gotham. Now, every evening was dark, but in Gotham with its never-ending mist of smog, it was especially dull and uncomfortable. Street lights wouldn’t break the darkness, windows only shined TV light out and painted pictures of entertained families, or dining families, or, as most common in Gotham, arguing families.

Gotham was also loud and Terry Borrows hated that fact. They’ve never got used to constant car noises – revving of engines and horn honking that all coming back twofold in echoes bouncing from walls of thin streets. Annoying, headache causing. Terry would rather listen to their boss shouting all day.

They were hyper focused on the noise. On their check-up doctor said it’s nothing weird and then asked for payment in amount of Terry’s two-month salaries. Thief.

That’s when they heard it. Soft, almost silent ding. As if you try to get attention at the wedding table and you hit the crystal glass with a spoon. Once. Carefully. It sounded almost magical in this grey place.

Ding.

Terry stopped. At the end of the narrow street they saw a shadow. It was a person kneeling next to something on the ground. Terry didn’t see any details, but dread climbed on their back. This is Gotham. Terry should run. It doesn’t matter what were they witnessing, the logical thing is to…

Ding.

The person looked his way. Every little move was followed by that soft jingle.

And then Terry realized they can’t move anymore. The jingle dinged louder. And louder. The sound vibrated through the streets catching them right by the soul. Terry realized they can’t breathe. Their heart was racing like crazy and their head hurt from wave of sound around them.

The person… a woman… walked straight to Terry, bringing the sound with her. In the dark Terry recognized a scarf on her face and… oh god… bloody knife in her hand.

Run! They tried to move their legs. Nothing.

The sound. The fear. The knife.

Finally, Terry’s body gave in and they fainted. They didn’t see the woman touching their neck for pulse. Nor did they hear the sound stop as the woman left without hurting them.

In the street, there lay another body.

***

Miranda Bradbury really liked Gotham. She felt like a character in gothic romance. Darkness, never-ending mist and bad weather, creepy architecture and constant danger. She enjoyed Gotham since she’s moved here two weeks prior. This city was crazy. Mental even! During the time period she tried to adapt to her new environment, she’s already seen the clown terrorizing city, the Riddler enslaving a whole block and some maniac with knives kidnapping people trying to lure in the Bat.

Oh, yeah. Batman. Before she didn’t understand. How can the police just let mask vigilante on loose? She understood after two days. This city…

This city also ruined her business right away. She moved here, opened a toyshop and that was it. The empty place flourished under her care, filled with toys, decorations and joy. The shop was in pretty good part of town, and yet – no customers. Too late she found out this used to be a toyshop of some crazy guy – calling himself the Toymaker – who tried to kill the city with explosive teddy-bears and sentient Barbie dolls.

Yes. This city was mental.

And she loved it. She always tried to blend in, be the grey mouse in her warm turtleneck and messy brown hair. After witnessing crazy punk-rock fashion of this city she realized she stood up more like this. At least she can pass for naïve outsider. That’s always a plus in her line of work.

The fourth day and finally two guys entered her shop. They looked around with deep uninterest in their eyes. Walked through isles touching stuffed toy here and there or picking up a toy car and putting it back two seconds later. Miranda waited patiently at the counter, small smile on her lips.

They finally stopped in front of her. She suspected they are twins as their expression were the same – dull and bored. They were dressed like gangsters from twenties. Gotham was weirdly stuck in time.

“G’morning, lady,” said one of them despite it being deep afternoon. “We’ve come to talk.”

“How much?” Miranda asked.

“Excuse me?”

“How much?” she repeated not losing her patience. She adored the confused looks. “This isn’t my first rodeo, gentlemen. How much is the protection fee?”

“Straight lass, huh?”

“Partially,” Miranda joked. “I hate beating around the bush.”

“Don loves people like you. Right to bus’ ya know? It’s ten percent if you don’t want’cha place to burn.”

Miranda overlooked the empty store. Ten percent of nothing is… probably not suitable for Don Falcone, one of the mafia leaders of the city. Before setting the shop, Miranda made her research on the city’s bad guys. Always ready. Don Falcone won’t care, he will just want his cash. She started to think she underestimated the marketing. Be better PR, Miranda, it’s not that hard.

“Tell me, friends,” she started with a nice voice, “how does Don Falcone feel about illegal businesses?”

***

Miranda moved to Gotham for various reasons. One of them was the fact she was constantly on the move. She’s never spent anywhere more than two years. The last city she was in was Star City and that didn’t go well for her with all the supers around.

The second reason was that she’s always heard about Gotham as this sick place. The city corrupted by illness eating itself out like a wounded animal. That intrigued her and she felt as if this is the proper place to hide and never be found. And if she is, it will be probably in the dumpster behind some chemical plant. She could live with that future in mind.

The third reason… the main reason she wasn’t afraid to admit, she just didn’t want to deal with it… was him.  Professor Jonathan Crane. Miranda took years of stupid, non-working, useless therapy to end up here. Her… could she even call them fears?... were crippling. And she needed the best. Jonathan Crane was the best. The fear specialist with shady background. But that’s Gotham for you. You might do inhumane experiments on your students and don’t get your licence revoked.

Miranda should probably be afraid of someone like that. Ridiculous idea. He was still running decent psychiatric office and all reviews threw him five stars. She will be careful. She just really needed help.

This was the part she hated. Explaining. She sat in front of the professor. He was fairly young for the title. Miranda’s looked through his files too, though he has been careful keeping most of the information hidden. Star student, at least he used to be. Those climb the leader fast. He wasn’t even forty yet, his ginger hair hid possible grey hair very well. He was watching her with his intense blue eyes and almost never blinked. He waited for her to get everything out. Miranda hated those stories. Repeating them again always made her feel crazy. She probably was.

“It’s complicated. I will try to make it short.” Now, Miranda, where is your hate for beating around the bush, huh? Just tell the nice doctor you are a fucking madwoman.

The professor was silent. Waiting. Even sitting he was very tall, and she noticed his fingers being thin and bony, just like his whole appearance.

“I have a problem. I’ve seen tons of shrinks about it already. Most of them gave up on me or drugged me to no avail. The thing is I have this weird… I don’t know… Phobia. Causing me panic attacks, crippling me.”

“That is not uncommon for deep fears,” said the professor. Miranda wondered how can shrinks be so calm. If someone told her they are crazy, she would probably joke about it right away.

“Yes, I know. I was told that hundred times already. There’s a catch.”

“Do tell.”

Miranda shuffled in her chair. No matter how many times she has talked about this it still made her uncomfortable and she felt like an idiot. But she had to fight this. Or she might…

“It’s ghosts. I panic around ghosts.”

The professor opened his mouth to say something, but Miranda quickly stopped him.

“No, I don’t believe in ghosts. That’s nonsense. I just call these things ghosts. It’s like… hallucination I keep having. They appear and it’s like someone caught my heart and pulled it out of my chest. I feel dead. I cannot move, I cannot act, think, anything. But according to all the doctors, I am sane.”

“When do these ghosts appear?” Professor didn’t even flinch. Nor blinked. He heard crazy talk daily why should she be any more interesting?

“They first appeared a little over a decade back. This is when the first attack happened. Then I got a charm, see?” She touched her necklace. Simple round silver ball that jingled softly when moved. “It keeps them away. When I take this off, I see them. I get attacked right away.”

“May I see?”

She held the pendant firmly. “Sorry, I don’t take it off on the first date.”

Her joke created tiny smile on his face. “Understandable.”

He asked more questions and she tried to answer as truthfully as her crime record allowed. By the end of the session she felt like dried out sponge.

“Don’t be afraid, miss Bradbury. We will figure this out,” professor said when she was leaving.

“Funny you say that. I can’t really feel the fear,” she smiled and that ended their first meeting.

***

Terry Borrows way lying in the hospital bed. They hit their head during the horrid night which caused a mild concussion. The doctors were also worried about their heart because it showed signs of arrythmia.  It disappeared a day after the incident, but everyone was head over heels with this situation.

“They keep me here because they want to blame it on me,” wrote Terry to their friend. “Because they have nobody else for the murder.” Terry believed that. This wouldn’t be the first time Gotham has fucked them over. At least they survived. Witnessing murder first hand was like being sentenced to death.

So, they were bored on the hospital bed, half asleep, half awake, back hurting from cheap bedding. Eyes closing and opening again just to see how far the sun has moved or whether the food was ready.

Closing. Opening. The sun was setting.

Closing. Opening. Darkness.

Closing. Opening. Shadow.

Terry’s heart nearly stopped. They shouted by surprise. They are definitely going to die now!

“Terry Borrows,” said the shadow with a deep voice. “I have few questions for you.”

Terry was struck by fear. The rational part of their brain wanted to scream. They didn’t. They watched a man dressed as giant bat and their voice trembled.

“Y-yes?”

“What did you see at the crime scene?”

“I already told the police everything.” There was panic in their voice.

“Tell me.”

“There was a woman, she killed someone. She had some sort of mask. She… ah!”

The door opened. The nurse stepped between the doorframe, looked at Batman and then strategically left closing the door behind her. Terry swallowed a curse.

“Continue,” demanded Batman.

“The sound. It was the sound that made me faint.”

“What else can you remember?”

“The jingle. She was jingling like some fucking Christmas tree.”

“What about her movement?”

“What about it?” asked Terry. Batman just waited to let them figure out what he means. “I don’t know. I saw her just for a few seconds. She was hidden in the shadows.”

“Thank you, Terry.”

“You are welcome?” answered Terry unsurely. Then the door opened again, and doctor stormed in ready to shun the uninvited guest.

But he was already gone.

Chapter 2