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inknopewetrust · 3 years

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In Another Universe (Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader)

Summary: If Thanos’ destruction wasn’t enough, being blipped into another universe was worse. After finding yourself in the universe of We Can Be Heroes, you must maneuver your new life and relationships while trying not to dwell on the one you lost.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader (We Can Be Heroes)

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Some descriptions of violence, nothing extreme.

A/N: *Gif not mine.* Thanks so much for requesting this @jupitersmoon167 ! I just have to say—not only did I love writing this, but it’s like a whole ass fic in one. Request are currently OPEN, see request guidelines in bio for details!

In an instant, the world you once knew was gone.

The last thing you remembered was the sensation of fear. But it was ethereal, painless compared to anything you’d ever experienced before. Fighting with Nat was worse than the affects of Thanos’ snap, well, for you anyway.

It wasn’t until you woke up in a world that felt so incredibly familiar yet so incredibly foreign at the same time that you realized what ever event the snap set off, it wasn’t one that brought peace to anyone.

“Y/n! Come play with us!”

The moment of relapsing memory was broken by the sounds of children running and shrieking in the park. The sound was strangely comforting because it reminded you of home, of the little one you had to let go, and the found family you may never see again. But the little girl that screeched your name from across the park on the metal bridge reminded you that there was something good in this world, even if it wasn’t your own.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

The voice sounded beside you on the other side of the tree before you even managed to budge from your leaning stature against it. Nothing Missy ever did went over Marcus Moreno’s head. He watched her like a hawk, as if his eyes were glued to her every movement but you couldn’t blame him. Missy was his life. He did everything for her.

“Don’t approve?” You quirked your head to the side with a smirk that you knew Steve would have said it reminded him of Natasha. Natasha, Steve, Tony...

“Well she doesn’t know you like we do. I think it’s best if she keeps her distance. Not to mention for the safety of the other kids...” Marcus trailed off as his gaze tracked from your own to the playground and the group of Heroic children that littered the place. It was chaotic, but normal? You didn’t know what was normal or not anymore so in truth, you felt it didn’t even matter.

“I don’t hurt children. I would never hurt a child.”

“How are we supposed to know that? What have you done but lie to all of us to make us believe you wouldn’t kill us all right now?”

“Are you trying to make me angry, Marcus?”

Your eyes narrowed as you crossed your arms over your chest. You knew they didn’t trust you. You knew they had a hard time believing your story, even after a year but yet they continued to let you go on missions. They continued to invite you to group luncheons and trusted that you wouldn’t sell their secrets to their enemies.

“Testing your patience.”

“If you didn’t trust me with your daughter, why did you let her eat the food I brought? Why do you let her come to headquarters-”

“Because The Heroics are family. This whole thing-” He rose his hand and gestured to heroes and their children gathered and played around them.

“-is her life as much as it is mine. You came here from some “world” that we’ve never heard of that apparently looks a lot like this one. You are the stranger here, not her and especially not at headquarters.”

Marcus huffed in aggravation and stalked away from the tree and to Anita who had been set up at a picnic table not far from the playground. Anita watched her son make conversation with the newest Heroic and shook her head in a brief and tiny fashion as her son walked toward her with a plume of invisible smoke coming out of his ears.

“You shouldn’t be so rude, give the girl a break. She’s lost everything and everyone she’s ever know and I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t a brilliant fighter. The training she could give all of you is worth more money than we spend in a year fighting aliens.” The look on Anita’s face was critical of Marcus. The son she knew, the one she raised was not cynical or mean. He was kind and loving and a father who would have wanted Missy to have strong women in her life.

“She doesn’t belong here. She isn’t a Heroic and she doesn’t need to talk to Missy any more than she does already.”

“But does she seek out Missy at headquarters or does Missy seek out her?” Marcus couldn’t recall if Missy’s interactions with you were brought on by his own kin. He found the girl hanging upside down on the monkey bars with Guppy below her jumping up to try and touch the long, black locks of his daughter. She looked so carefree, so full of joy until she flopped back onto her feet and turned her gaze toward the tree, almost ready to yell. Marcus followed her eyes only to notice you had gone, like a ghost, and Missy was seeking you out.

In The Heroic Headquarters, you often wandered the halls aimlessly, minding your own business as your thoughts were filled with the events that happened exactly one year before. It was already your one year anniversary in this new world. But my God, or to whatever God was out there, you missed your old life. Even if life wasn’t exactly the most glamorous before Thanos arrived, you had found a comfortable family in Natasha, Steve, and the others who stayed behind at the Avenger’s Facility in New York. Natasha was your sister in all things but blood and you would do anything to see her again. Steve had been the one to lean on when your memories of Russia, of that room, of the little one you had to give away, came flowing back in waves too ample to deal with alone. They were everything to you, everything.

And now you sat alone in an office you were sure was once a broom closet and lie in wait for the other heroes to come, visit, to extend a gracious hand to someone who is hurting but it never came. Every day that passed made that more clear. Even the materials they gave you were sub-par to the advanced ones that scattered the offices of the Heroics. You wondered how this world’s technology was so different from your own and no one knew of it. This multiverse, this time continuum that has taken place is far beyond any knowledge you claimed to have. It took nothing to image Tony or Bruce having an absolute field day with all of this.

“Ms. L/N?” A knock alerted you that a visitor had in fact found your small, grungy door in a vacant hallway.

“Come in!” Who were you to ignore a visitor when all you could think of was the family you’d never see?

Anita Moreno cracked the door open and popped her head in with a smile. She quietly closed the door behind her as she took a seat in the broken desk chair situated across from your desk. You wheeled as best as you could from behind the computer to give her a small, welcoming smile.

“What can I do for you Mrs. Moreno?”

“Please, it’s Anita. You’re a Heroic now, no need for the formality.”

“I’m not-” It wasn’t a chuckle that sounded with your denial. It was a stone-cold denial of being a Heroic because it erased what you really were, an Avenger.

“You are here. You are here.” Her tone wasn’t offended, but re-assuring in her proclamation. Anita could read people like books and you doubt you evaded her abilities by being from another universe. She was far too skilled to let people and their problems fall under a radar.

“I have a request for you, well two to be exact.” She looked up from her folded hands expectantly waiting for you to nod, allowing her to continue on.

“First, I have a mission for you with Ms. Vox and Marcus. It’s nothing too concerning but it needs to be taken care of. And for my other request, I’d like you to help train Missy.” You were sure if you had been drinking anything from water to vodka that it would have found itself all over Anita, but you managed to stay mum and concealed.

“And Marcus approves of this?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“Going behind your son’s back and letting his precious daughter train with a woman he sees as a weapon? My, Anita. You have taken me by surprise, I must say.”

The elder woman smiled slyly as if she were getting away with a far more terrible crime. Missy was just as important to her as she was Marcus. Anita was not going to let Marcus’ prejudice against you prevent Missy from looking up to an accomplished and heroic woman as yourself.

“As long as Missy comes home with no scrapes or bruises, there should be no problem. You can use one of the rooms here and I’ll make sure his card can’t access it. I’ll bring Missy in when she’s done with school, leaving about an hour for her to work with you.”

Anita rose to her feet, preparing herself to leave the room but instead, she turned back around, looking you dead in the eyes and for once, looked like someone who cared.

“I don’t know what your world was like. I don’t know who you were there or the family you left behind, but this is your world as much as it is mine, Missy’s, or Marcus’. He shouldn’t be so cruel. I see how you look at the girl, like she’s special. She is. But I couldn’t help but think it was something more...” She trailed off her speech just as Marcus had that day at the park. Like mother like son you suppose.

“Did you have a family? A child—I mean?”

For the first time in your life you were speechless. Was it that obvious? The longing? You never spoke of the child, not even to Natasha or the others because it was far too painful to recall. The Red Room was traumatic enough and by barely escaping to save the life of a child you so desperately wanted only to give it away to protect its life was worse. You didn’t know where she was or who she lived with now. Her life was an illusion to you if you could craft one. That alone broke you, chilled you to the bone. You held her for two minutes before they took her from your arms to give to another and it would be the one thing you would always regret.

“You don’t have to answer-” Anita backed away from the question when she analyzed your reaction. But she was the only one who cared enough to get to know you and that opportunity for connection was slipping away.

“Yes.”

“Yes, I did. I don’t know her name or if she’s... if she’s alive anymore but I did. I had to give her away. She would be ten.”

“Oh I—I am sorry, I didn’t know.”

“No one does.”

Anita could only nod and attempt to leave again but was halted by your voice.

“Thank you for coming here.” She nodded, acknowledging the difficult transition she knew you were having.

“When is the mission?”

“Two weeks. I’ll, um, bring Missy tomorrow. I’ll send a message about the room later today.”

She left with a twist of the door handle, leaving you with the thoughts of the girl who you tried to, but never could forget. But Missy helped to fill that gaping, vacant hole in your heart. After the first week of pure hesitancy, Missy came running in every day after school with a wide smile, bragging about the grades she received, the friends she had, and the way her father always put her perfect grades on the fridge when she got home.

Missy let you into her life without you asking for it. Even with the distance you tried to give her in order to protect yourself from any kind of unintentional attachment with the girl, she melted it with a look in her kind, young brown eyes and her shining smile. Missy treated you like the adult and role model she wanted, not some foreign alien that the Heroes treated you as.

“How do you know how to do all this stuff?”

Missy was stretching on the red mat while you built an obstacle (of sorts) but only half of her attention was on the task you had instructed her to do. It was the second week of your daily training with Missy and she was disappointed to hear that tomorrow, you would be off on a mission, therefore her favorite after school activity would have to wait.

“I was a spy for many years and I had been in this academy of women fighters.” That’s the only explanation you could give her without truly telling her what happened to you in Russia. The horrible, wicked people who experimented and forced you to become a weapon on behalf of the state.

“And what about your old team? How did you meet them?” She sat up now on her knees in an anxious, excited inertia.

There was an initial hesitancy with that question, though you had to ask yourself why. Why, after a year of being in this new world, were you still not willing to be open and voice your story to someone who wanted, someone asking, for it. But what did you have to lose but divulging in this girl’s questions? Nothing. Heck, Nat would probably be proud that you let your guard down enough to make a connection in the first place.

“I met them through-”

You didn’t even get passed the fourth word when the door to the training room slid open and a very, very, angry Marcus charged in with Anita on his tail. She looked pleadingly at you as he grabbed his daughter off the mat on the floor and grabbed her bag from the highest stack of mats to his left.

“Marcus please!” Anita tried to plead with him but he did not listen.

“No! I told you I don’t want her anywhere near her and what did you do!?”

Marcus tossed the bag to Missy who barely caught it in her trembling hands. She had never seen her father break the cool façade he wore on the daily.

“Dad-”

“You go with her. I am not going to have this conversation with you now, but when I get home, you better believe that we will be having a long talk about this.”

Anita wrapped her arms protectively over Missy and practically dragged the girl out of the room while Marcus stood with his hands splayed on his hips in anger. Maybe if it were another universe you would have found it just a little adorable.

“I had my suspicions that this is where she was. Three days ago when my card denied me access to this room I knew someone was lying to me about it.”

“Marcus, you’re over-“

“I am NOT OVERREACTING!” He shouted with a blazing fury. His eyes were filled with nothing but a fatherly rage.

“I asked you to not go anywhere near my daughter and here she is training with you like some—some prodigy! She is my daughter!”

“You think I don’t know that!? Do you really think I am that stupid to not notice the girl is your daughter? She’s just like you!”

“If she was just like me, then she wouldn’t have run off every afternoon with a deadly stranger.”

You shook your head at him with petty laughter.

“You are the most ridiculous, most annoying, and most PRETENTIOUS PERSON I HAVE EVER MET!”

Rage continued to boil up his body like a pot of water. Had Marcus ever met someone he found as infuriating as you? No. Had he ever met someone like you? No. Had he ever been slightly curious about you? He wouldn’t answer that question. Besides, now he was playing protective dad and he never had been given a reason to trust you.

“If you had a child, I bet you would feel the same.”

You think he meant it as some sick burn but he had no idea, none of them did. So your brows lifted at him as a smirk graced your face knowingly.

“If you cared for a second to get to know me— you would know the answer to that question.”

More than a deadly spy, though none of them ever cared to know more than what your profession suggested.

You left the room in an abrupt haste following the confession. A part of your conscious still wasn’t sure whether or not telling everyone every little detail about your past was a good idea, let alone a safe idea. But every night you thought of the family you disappeared from; how you wished you could have told them everything about your past before they disintegrated into dust around you. If you couldn’t do it then, maybe you could do it now.

The next day happened to be the mission Anita had set up for Marcus, Ms. Vox, and yourself. While Marcus waited in uniform with the singing siren pacing the room, he was sure you weren’t going to walk through those doors. One side of him felt that you were the kind of person who ran away after exposing some deep secret, the other thought maybe you just quit. But when you waltzed in with your weapons and uniform perfectly pressed, he couldn’t make eye contact.

If it weren’t for Missy’s dotting on your character that previous evening, he probably would have still been angry. But there was little doubt in his mind that Missy would lie about someone she trusted, so maybe he could give you a chance. That belief quickly turned when you wouldn’t speak to him or even look him in the eye five hours into the mission that had you all stuck in a building across from an increasingly suspicious studio apartment. According to Anita, this is where technological weapons were being stored and the mission was to identify the weapons and alert headquarters so they could send an extraction team. Unfortunately the view was poor and between the three of you, only three pieces of equipment were identified.

“I think we should try and sneak in.” The suggestion came from Ms. Vox who appeared a bit eager to be on an incredibly serious mission. Marcus tried to look at you for an opinion but you gave him no audience.

“If we go in, someone needs to stay behind to keep guard.”

“Maybe I could keep guard and you both can go in?”

The proposition was most unwelcome. You and Marcus, together, on a mission that was possibly deadly, and you still wouldn’t look each other in the eye.

“Or I can go with one of you?” Ms. Vox’s voice was straining but she walked on egg shells to get an answer. Be the bigger person, be the bigger person.

“Marcus and I will go inside. Vox wait down the hall from the door and you need to press the call button on the watch if you see anyone. If we are not out of the apartment in five minutes, alert headquarters and let them bring in the team.” It was a demand and no questions were asked as Ms. Vox rose first to leave the room, followed by you, then a concerned but unquestioning Marcus.

To the building across the street and down the hall, no words were exchanged between the two of you. You both kept quiet as the room came closer and all weapons were drawn in protection.

“You take the left and I’ll go right.” Again, he didn’t question it but he did nod, meet your eyes in understanding.

For starters, the apartment was entirely open concept. The floor was lined with rows of computers; all had been wired to one another and their screens were a blinding blue. You looked up at Marcus as he rounded the row nearly three yards in front of you. The look he returned was unsettled by the scene.

“What do you think they’re doing here?”

“Beats me. I’ve never seen anything like this before.” And it was true—he truly hadn’t. Most of the time missions were against some alien breed, certainly not old junkie computers from his childhood. You lowered your gun for a brief moment, pressing a key on the closest keyboard and all the computers went black. The light from two sets of comms were the only light in the room until a stream of three, then four, then five lines of green invaded from the window. Slowly they crept on the floor until the met a black boot and trailed up the targets body.

It took no time for you to realize what it was.

“Get down! Marcus get down!”

You practically barreled into him as fast as you could, wrapping your arms around his torso as his swords went flying in the opposite direction. Gunfire erupted around you both as you scrambled to drag his body with yours to a corner away from the windows.

“Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

All you could illicit was a nod in combination with a panic gaze. It would take four minutes for the rest of the Heroes to arrive and find the two of you. But whatever happened in Marcus’ brain the moment he saw you tumbled towards him in his moment of peril, changed the dynamic.

It first began as complete acceptance into the team. No one questioned your actions and your abilities were praised just as much as the others. Marcus didn’t keep his distance, but also allowed Missy to continue lessons after school because he trusted you. You saved his life and if it weren’t for you, he would have never seen Missy again.

After about a year of acceptance, Marcus attempted friendship. He would ask you to do things, outside of work, especially when they involved Missy. Bowling, Pizza nights, ice cream runs, game nights; they all became normal after the first few times of pure hesitancy. Although you weren’t entirely comfortable with the idea because of how he treated you in the past, you could tell it was an honest effort. You also would be lying if you said you didn’t have any fun doing those things.

In your fourth year in this new universe something else happened—something unexpected. Instead of what had become a usual game night, Marcus asked you on a date. Your initial reaction was to say no, laugh at the attempt, and return to the monopoly game (yes, you did find it strange that this universe had many similarities to the other). But the “what if” question lingered after minutes of contemplation so you said yes. And you would be lying again if you said anything other than it was “the best date you had ever been on.”

And somewhere in that fifth year of living, Marcus asked you to move in with Missy and himself, and you said yes. Finally, a family of your own that wouldn’t disappear at the snap of a finger. Every day you thought of what Natasha would say to you if she knew about this. One part of you wanted to believe that she would be surprised but proud, while the other believed she would laugh and call you soft. In reality she would have responded both ways.

Every morning you woke up to a man who looked at you as if you held the world in your hand. How you went from enemies to lovers was beyond your comprehension but you didn’t want to question it further. The way he would hold your hand on difficult days, smile at you from across the table, kiss you goodnight, love you until you believed you couldn’t be loved anymore. It was those things you didn’t have in that other world that you just held onto with a tight grip now.

As Marcus readied lunch in the Kitchen, you helped stack new books on Missy’s bookshelf with her. The girl had grown so much over the years and was making her way into becoming the leader Marcus, and Anita, wanted her to be.

“I left a box out in the hall, do you think you could get it?” Missy asked as she admired the cover of a fantasy book in front of her. She looked up with her big brown eyes that reminded you so much of the man in the other room that you couldn’t deny her anything.

“Sure. Be right back.”

But you never came back.

Because you woke up with a jolt on the dirt ground of a forest you hadn’t seen in years.

Wakanda.

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itsmespicaa · 3 years

Text

Regrets

Summary: A deeper look into Cassandra Cain's life after the Anti-Life virus struck the whole Universe and her interactions with her family.

(Alternatively: Cass gets the hugs she deserves in DCeased)

Note: The art I drew for this fic is here.

Read this on AO3

There was no time to lose.

There was still so much...life in this building. So much to protect. Cassandra is beyond glad they‘ve all decided to stay—these children...are not like her. Or Jason. Or even Gordon-

"Jim," he sighed, wistful and...sad. Eyes briefly lost in what was no doubt a shrapnel of memory that cuts and pricks deep into your chest, pushed aside to focus on the present—to survive—no matter how painful it digs into your soul. She understood. He glanced at her and smiled. "Jim’s fine, Cass. We’re all family, right?”

These children needed them, and...perhaps a part of her needed them too. They all needed each other now, one way or another.

Nights are...the worst.

Sleep has never come naturally for her, even before...everything. Before their whole world fell apart. She was not unfamiliar with loss, but this- there was no time to mourn or- or even breathe. No time to look back and realize just how much was taken from them.

Survive. Move forward. Survive, kill, survive. Keep each other safe.

Her mantra—the only thing that mattered now.

She did not allow herself to think of Barbara‘s kind eyes, or the last time she heard Dick laughing in the manor. She did not think of the fistbump she shared with Tim on their last patrol together.

She did not allow herself to think about Bruce, of the comforting weight on her shoulder after another successful night a few days ago. An easy night—quick and simple. So...different from the nights now that her chest ached and ached-

Nor did she allow herself to think about Stephanie, who wasn't even supposed to be in Gotham now. Her mother too...surely...?

(But Batman was supposed to be invincible, and yet, and yet—)

No. No time to look back. No time for hope or questions with no answers.

Nights are the worst.

Beyond the stillness of the night, beyond the quiet of the sleeping children...the monsters lurk and scream. She could hear them, clear as day—sleep did not come to them...so nor would she.

Instead, she sat in a corner—not too close that she could be spotted instantly, but close enough to aide should anything happen—silent and watchful over the children now in her care. It soothed her, seeing them so peaceful. Their innocence not yet fully stolen from them.

A night without one of them waking up from a nightmare was all that she asked for.

"Cass."

She did not turn to the voice. As she waited, her brother finally came to sit beside her, knees drawn up to his chest as if to mimic her.

On a better day, she would‘ve smiled at this.

She didn't smile.

"You really should rest," murmured Jason after a while. "I‘ll watch over them tonight. We need to be in tip top condition if we plan on protecting them."

Facing him, face impassive, she signed: You? Sleep?

A huff, eyes dim. "Touché."

They sat there, side by side, watching the faces of those more vulnerable than them for a long time, the noise from beyond the walls momentarily cut out as her focus zeroed in on the children.

"I buried them," said Jason suddenly, breaking the fragile peace. Cass does not stop, doesn‘t have to ask who he meant.

"I should‘ve told you sooner, but with everything going on..."

Words were never her allies, and they weren't one now. Cass swallowed the lump growing in her throat, along with whatever words she was about to say.

I know, she touched her cheeks twice instead, trusting in her brother to see it.

Jason definitely noticed, because the next moment he was slowly wrapping an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. Like a puppet cut loose from its string, Cass melted into his side, finally allowing herself a small moment to just-

Mourn.

She and Jason were never as close as her and Tim, but they understood one another, possibly better than most in the family. They would spent rare moments reading together in the manor‘s library, comfortably co-existing. Now-

No more words were spent that night, the two of them silently supporting each other as they accept their new reality. She did not move to wipe the few drops of tears tracking down her cheeks, and Jason said nothing.

How cruel is it that the ones to survive are the people who had touched death before?

...Damian? Alfred? Her hand moved as she looked at him, mouth pressed in a thin line. The only ones left. And their youngest sibling. The expression that reflected back at her was just as grim, but the lines on his face were noticeably lighter, and Cass can tell from the loose grip on her shoulder—from the set of his jaw that it was not a bad news.

"Both are still alive in Metropolis last I checked yesterday," he said, fingers picking at a loose strand on his jacket—nervous, "and hopefully they’re with other heroes too. I...try not to check too often. Gotta save the energy of the car, y‘know?"

And I‘m scared to know, was unspoken, but she heard it. Saw the fear in his creases, the anxiety in his sunken eyes.

The regret.

Cassandra understood. There were regrets she would have to live with now too.

She nodded, looking back at the children again. A sense of tranquility finally settling in her chest, the anguish she felt not completely extinguished...but there was only so much she could bear at a time. These children are her priorities now, her new family, and...

Little brother, she tugged and signed at Jason before resting a hand on his back. "Keep you safe," she emphasized each words, tugging on his red hoodie—now splattered in different shades of red.

That...startled a laugh out of him. A small quirk of lips, but Cass saw it as what it is and beamed too, subdued as it was.

"I don‘t know about me being the younger brother," he chuckled softly, "but I'm glad I have a kick-ass sister like you. I have your back too, Cass. Always."

She would not lose any more of her family if she could help it. New or old.

Even if she had to sacrifice herself.

Her mother. She was-

Cassandra watched as the children exit the bus and can’t help the bittersweet smile tugging the edge of her lips.

She was a hero.

In the very end, she died a hero. Protecting the life of innocents and...her family.

Her heart felt too heavy to maintain it however, and after making sure all the surviving children are accounted for and comfortably settled in their new home, she wandered over to the newly chiseled statue the Green Guardian—Ivy had bestowed upon them as a token of respect. A gift.

She stood before the likeness of her mother, her last moments playing over her mind like a broken cassette.

Her eyes burned and she blinked, rapidly.

"Hey."

The white-haired lady. Moved with quiet grace almost as good as her. Almost.

She nodded back in lieu of a reply.

"Complicated parent issues?"

"...Yes."

A sigh. "Same."

They stood there, side by side, both lost in thought as they gazed upon the legacy their parents have left.

"Despite everything..." whispered Rose, "We still love and miss them, don‘t we?"

"She was...not a good mother," began Cass, trying to find the right words to describe the turmoil of emotions warring within her. "But she loved me. And I...loved her. In the end...that‘s all that matters."

A curt nod. "I get it. Really.

"I know loss is inevitable now," continued Rose, hand seemingly wanting to reach out before pulling back abruptly, "but...I‘m sorry you had to see that yourself. I‘m here if you want to uh- talk and all that. Or even just my company."

Cass was...touched. It was a sweet gesture, considering they haven‘t had much time to get to know each other before arriving here.

Smiling quietly at her, she pointed at herself and signed: Conversation. Not good. Rose‘ sign language skill isn‘t on par with hers or Jason, but it’s enough.

She smiled back, laughter in her voice: "So we won‘t have to speak. I can be a good listener when I need to be."

At that moment, Cass decided she liked this girl. Suddenly grateful to have her here—that her brother had her too.

It was probably that thought that prompted her to get her attention, her hands moving quickly: You. Jason. Happy?

Surprisingly, that brought on a small blush on Rose‘s already rosy cheeks, and Cass‘ smile widened.

"We- haven‘t made it official or anything but...yeah. Yeah, I think we are." Rubbing the back of her neck, bashful eyes cast downwards in a rare show of vulnerability, she reminded her so much of Stephanie that she had to bite down her lips to keep it from wobbling.

Instead she gave her the warmest grin she could muster, focusing on the person in front of her now. "Good," she said, before pulling her in for an earnest hug.

For a while Rose just stood there, letting Cass do all the work—but then she grasped her back just as tightly, finally realizing that the hug was for Cass herself as much as it is for her.

They both lost their parent, now truly orphans like everyone else, and Cassandra‘s...grateful she wasn‘t alone for this.

"I see you two are bonding already," came a familiar voice.

Lo and behold, Jason appeared from behind them with a smirk. He and Rose exchanged a look and before he even turned to her, Cass already knew what he was about to do.

She returned her brother‘s embrace, accepting it for what it was. I‘m sorry, his body screamed—sad, sad, sad. Sad for...her.

Standing toe to toe, he dwarfed her in comparison, and Cass was all of a sudden struck with the memory of the last time she hugged their father (Bruce, not Cain. Never Cain.) A sharp twinge of pain swiped at her chest, a simple wish that...she could‘ve hugged her mother too.

Physical affection did not come easy to Jason either, but Cass knew he was tired of regretting, tired of letting people go when everything you loved could be taken from you at any moment and...she felt the same.

Regrets seem to be the only constant in their life now.

After pulling away with a playful shove, she pointed at Jason then Rose, tapping her two 'K' hands together. Take care of her. She glared pointedly at Jason for a few seconds before her face broke into a smirk.

A cheer of laughter erupted from the three of them at Jason‘s indignant 'Of course!' sign.

It was definitely the highlight of her day.

---

Weeks later, when night fell and the world ran a little slower, Cassandra watched over them all as she always had.

Her small family is safe now—her brother and sister-in-law somewhere outside of prying eyes but still near enough for her to reach (Jason had reassured her himself). The marriage itself was nothing as fancy as the movies she watched with Tim and Steph had shown, but it was...festive. Magical. Beautiful. Ivy had gifted them with beautiful garlands and flower chains that grew from the earth, vibrant roses uncurling at every corner to celebrate their union—a symbol of hope that could flourish amidst the dreariness of their reality.

The sheer joy she felt and saw from the two newlyweds was enough to assuage her constant state of alertness. She kissed both of their cheeks and hugged them close, lips pulled wide on the happiest moment she had felt in a very long time, a comfortable warmth curling in her chest. Their happiness was infectious.

Yet now—

"You should rest, kid."

She wasn‘t the only one restless.

"...Jim. Rough...night?"

A puff of cigarette. "Something like that."

Silence reigned over the living garden, the stars above brighter than it had ever been.

"You were close with my daughter?" asked the Commissioner all of a sudden.

"...Yes." Her reply was careful—while time had done its magic, a balm to gaping wounds on the soul, their memories of Barbara were still fresh on both of their minds. It still...hurt, and no doubt even more so for him. "She was my...mentor. She was like...like a..." Mother, she did not say. Before Shiva, before Bruce truly stepped into his role as a father.

But Jim picked it up nonetheless, nodding to himself. "Good. That‘s- really good."

For once, she genuinely wondered what the aim of their conversation was.

"We might not be close, Cassandra," he watched the puff of smoke that formed around him, casual and honest, "but you‘re Batman‘s daughter, and my daughter...knowing her, she undoubtedly loved you too like one. So that's more than enough to make you family."

Nodding, already connecting those particular dots together, she tilted her head. And?

"And I would do anything to keep my family safe," he turned to her, pain in his eyes reflected in her own. "But you understand that more than anyone else, don‘t you?"

Cass looked away, his intention finally dawning upon her.

"I- don‘t want to lose them too," she whispered to no one, her fear carried over in the silence of the night, the huge vines and trees providing a shelter from the horrific wailing of the monsters lurking just outside the garden walls.

They‘re the only ones I have left, she did not say.

Instead of a reply, Jim squeezed her shoulder in solidarity.

Cass is eternally grateful he did not try to console her with empty words.

"SHAZAM!"

Electricity and raw, undiluted power surged through her, tingling in her veins with the telltale sign of ancient magic.

Fury. White, hot blistering fury.

She did not waste a blink at the corpse now lying beneath her, eyes already roaming to find Jason who- no.

No.

Rose knelt beside him, sobs rocking her frame, every inch of her body screaming pure sorrow and Cassandra reached out, denial on the tip of her tongue- before a hand stopped her.

Damian.

Now an adult, creases wrinkling his forehead so much like his father. He shook his head, still gripping her arm and unwilling to let go. Cass could push him away despite his strength, especially with her newfound powers, but—but she didn‘t.

Cassandra Cain, blood daughter of Lady Shiva and David Cain, adoptive daughter of the Batman, fell to her knees and hung her head in her palms, holding back the agony clawing at her inside out. Hollow, hollow, empty.

No.

She promised-

What good was all this power if she couldn‘t even save her own family?

No tears came forth despite the stabbing wound in her chest, an ugly rage building up in the back of her throat, threatening to lash out with the pulsing energy in her fingers.

"Cass," Damian‘s soft plea snapped her out of her haze of red and self-destruction, and she finally looked at him, truly looked at him—his locked jaws, the tremble masking his own shock and anger, and- she blinked, vision clearing. Stopped.

Nothing could bring him back. Not her anger, nor revenge.

She stood up to her full height, Damian on her elbow, and locked eyes with Constantine standing right across from them, hoping the daggers she sent him from her gaze alone is enough to convey the amount of hatred she felt at that moment and floated over to Rose, her cape billowing behind her.

Someone else needed her now—move now, mourn later. Rinse and repeat.

---

The last remnants of warmth lingered in Jason‘s crushed body as she gingerly carried him out of the pocket dimension, and Cass felt her resolve weakening for a brief second, her powers slipping and she- nearly dropped to the ground. No one noticed, everyone lost in their own thoughts at what had transpired in so little time.

Her grip tightened.

Flying over to an area she knew was designated for the ones who...passed, she laid him down as gently as she could, brushing away a strand of hair on his forehead with light fingers, despite how heavy it felt to lift them. Wiped away the blood on his face with care, her movements mechanical like the time she had to dress a corpse of a dead boy they had failed to save.

Then she waited.

And waited.

Jason wouldn‘t want to be by himself. All alone.

She sat there, waiting.

When Rose finally dropped noiselessly beside her, Cass stood up and walked away, giving them the privacy they deserved. Ignored the silent tears wrecking the younger woman, and the instinctive need to console and support her.

Let her grieve, she reminded herself.

Her youngest brother stood behind a large boulder just outside the area, gaze pointedly directed at the ground.

"Cassandra."

She stopped right by him, shoulder to shoulder, facing the opposite direction. Waited.

His fist clenched tightly, teeth scrapping harshly against each other- "If I had known this would happen, I would never have—"

Gloved fingers grasped his shoulder tightly, and his mouth clicked shut.

"Please. Do not blame yourself," she murmured, calm and quiet, so unlike the weight dragging her down to the earth, burying her under. The magic that coursed through the blood, singing and wild, untamed as the raging sea.

Her fingers trembled.

She did not cry.

"I wish...I wish I could have talked with him more before. Know this Jason better," spoke Damian again after a long pause. It was an admission, hushed, voice laced with a regret so potent, it was impossible to dismiss.

So much regrets. Always. Always, always.

Finally, he turned to her with his cowl taken off, the pain in his eyes open for the world to see, for her to see, and she-

"I‘m so sorry, Cass," he whispered, broken, "I‘m so sorry."

Maybe it was his understanding, the honesty a huge contrast from the young, haughty boy who would hide his emotions behind a wall of anger and righteousness all those years ago. Or maybe it was the way his hand hovered beside him, a language as natural to her as breathing itself. Whatever it was...it unraveled the last string keeping her together, and she—

Not again.

Somewhere between then and the ground, her mask had been pulled down, and Cassandra finally let the weight in her heart crush her soul to dust, Damian‘s arms somehow around her and holding her close. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her tears creating a wet patch on his shoulder.

It was so tempting to call upon thunderstorms and lightning to put an end to all their suffering, an end to the anti-life once and for all—but she didn‘t. That was not their mission. Instead she let her eyes run dry, heaving quiet sobs into her brother.

The last two siblings held each other, grief and sorrow amplifying the desperation Cass felt growing within her.

It was a necessary sacrifice, she would know later.

But all she felt then was the despair of losing another family. The only one she had since their whole world turned upside down.

Damian was a solid weight that kept her grounded, and she was...thankful. Rose deserved to be supported now, rather than have another mess of emotions thrown onto her lap after all.

She felt her not-so-little brother bury himself into her shoulder and knew he needed this too.

It wasn't fair. It wasn’t fair.

...but nothing was.

Later, they would give Jason a proper burial. Later, they would be there carve the loving words of the life their brother had led. They would pay their respects, just as he did for their late father and brothers in the cave.

Later, they would continue to fight for humanity.

But for now-

"Damian," her voice cracked, too soft, too strained even for her ears. "I‘ll keep you safe. I promise."

A finality. An oath.

Not just to herself, but to Jason—whom she had failed. To their father, who entrusted the Bat mantle to the both of them, in his own ways. If it meant him surviving...

Damian froze and she knew what he wanted to say: Please don‘t make promises you can‘t keep.

But he didn‘t. Instead, he breathed out just as solemnly, the timbre of his voice octaves lower than it was a lifetime ago:

"...Right back at you, Cass."

#batfamily #cassandra cain #jason todd #damian wayne #dceased #dc comics #rose wilson #fanfic #Spica writes #oh look! :D i finally posted my fic ahaha

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get-your-fics · 4 years

Text

First Impressions

Request: “Hi! My request is for non-con Bruce Wayne. Basically the reader is mean to him, like bullying him and he finds a way to take advantage of her or something thank you :) it’d be great if it was smut” from @heimdoodle

Pairing: dark!Bruce Wayne x reader

Warnings: Smut, non-con oral, underage drinking, playboy!Bruce Wayne

“Please, (Y/N)!” your best friend Grace Blomdahl’s whiny voice pierced your ear through the phone speaker. “I’m begging you, come party with us just this once?”

You sighed. You had been at this for what felt like hours. “Okay. Fine, Grace. You’ve twisted my arm.”

She squealed. “Yes! It’s going to be so much fun. I promise, you’re not going to regret this.”

“Already too late,” you muttered under your breath.

And that’s how you found yourself being dragged by Grace through a crowd of writhing bodies in a club you didn’t know the name of wearing a dress too short and too tight to your liking and heels that you could barely walk in. The whole place reeked of sweat and alcohol, and the stench made your stomach churn.

You stopped at a table full of people you didn’t recognize. “(Y/N), these are my friends.” They all waved at you. She went around the table, introducing them one by one before landing on the final occupant. “And this is Bruce Wayne,” she finished.

You turned your head to lock eyes with a boy with dark hair, pale skin, and fine features. His was the only face that had a sense of familiarity attached to it. You had never met him before, but you had heard plenty about him - how he liked to take girls out, play with them, and when he got bored, dumped them like they were nothing. The corners of his pink lips curled into a sly smirk, and the weight of his heavy gaze was suddenly too much to bear, like it was scalding you. You looked away before he could burn you anymore. He was definitely someone to watch out for.

You knew you were in for a terrible night when a boy named Tommy Elliot handed Grace a drink and whisked her off to the dance floor. You spent most of your time squeezed in between two girls you didn’t know at the table. Eventually, everyone had gotten up to dance or get more drinks, leaving you alone.

“You’re not gonna dance?”

You snapped your head to see Bruce sitting at the other end of the table. You hadn’t even realized he was still there. He seemed to blend into the darkness of the club like a shadow. It was the first time you had heard him speak all night, and his voice was smooth like silk.

He quirked a brow at you, and you realized you hadn’t yet answered his question. You shook your head. “I don’t dance.”

He rose from his seat, the legs of his chair scratching against the polished floors. He walked over and sat down next to you. The sudden proximity made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “Do you drink at least?”

You shook your head again, and he chuckled, deep and low. “So you don’t dance and you don’t drink. Why are you here then?” He leaned closer to you, a wide grin spread across his face. “For the entertainment?”

You grimaced. “Why do you care?”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I was just asking a question. No harm, no foul.”

“The only reason I’m here is because Grace forced me to come.” You stared straight ahead of you at the dance floor. You could just barely make out the top of Grace’s head as she bobbed along to the blaring music. “Now why don’t you go back to leaving me alone?”

The smile on his face disappeared. “God forbid I try to start a conversation.”

You whipped your head around to sneer at him. “Do you think I don’t know who you are?”

He cocked his head. “And just who am I, (Y/N)?” He put heavy emphasis on your name.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You think you’re better than everyone. You think you can do whatever you want just because your family owns Gotham City.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You felt silly spouting such venom to someone you had just met.

He drew his brows together, and his lips twisted into a frown. An expression of sorrow and pain etched its way onto his face, but in the next second, it vanished. “Right.” He scooped up his drink and stood up. “I guess I won’t bother you anymore then.”

You sat there by yourself, feeling foolish and dumb, but you told yourself it was for the better. You’d heard the stories; whatever Bruce had wanted with you, it couldn’t have been good. He was just trying to manipulate you and make you feel bad for him.

You shook it off and stood up, resolving to leave. You had had your fill of the nightlife for sometime. You texted Grace on your way out that you felt sick and had gone home. She probably wouldn’t even notice you weren’t there until the morning.

“We missed you last night.” Grace’s voice sounded weak and groggy over the speaker. You expected she was hungover from her usual antics.

“And by ‘we’ you mean ‘you,’ right?” you joked, unlocking your mailbox in your apartment complex.

“Oh, come on! I’m sure if you had made more of an effort with the others that one time, they would love you just as much as I do.”

Your thoughts briefly veered off to Bruce and the conversation you had had that night, how you had basically spurned him without even hearing what he had to say. You dismissed your guilt. You reminded yourself that he was bad news. You didn’t just get a reputation like his by accident.

“Why don't you come with me to Emma’s house party this weekend?” Grace asked, and to convince you even further, she added, “She has a super nice house just outside the city.”

You chewed on your lower lip as you dug your mail out of your mailbox. You’ve had similar versions of the same back and forth over and over again. She never gave up until you gave in. “Okay,” you agreed, if only to get her to shut up sooner.

“Great! I’ll take you shopping after school tomorrow.” You could hear the growing excitement in her voice. “See you then!”

“Bye, Grace. See you.” You hung up as you got in the elevator. You only hoped you wouldn’t run into Bruce there.

You shuffled through the various envelopes as the elevator took you to your apartment’s floor. You swear your heart stopped in your chest when you held in your hands an envelope from Gotham College of Architecture and Design. The elevator binged as the doors slid open, drawing your attention, and you stepped out. As soon as you got inside your apartment, you tore the envelope to shreds, desperate to read its contents.

You had dreamed of going to GCAD for so long. It was a very prestigious school because of its renowned faculty, and practically everyone who graduated with a degree was guaranteed a lifelong, successful career. Although your parents had assured you that you exceeded the standards to get in, you were still nervous. Your entire future was at stake.

You unfolded the letter and read the neatly printed letters. Your heart sank in your chest. You had been waitlisted. Although it wasn’t a definite no, chances were, you were going to have to look elsewhere. The first tear fell down your cheek, and you wiped it away. It was followed by another, and another, until it was like a torrential downpour of water down your face.

You slowly fell to the floor and curled up into a ball, the letter crumpled up and discarded. You would have to find a way to tell your parents when they got home. You knew they would be supportive, but no matter what, it still hurt. And it would for a while.

Come the weekend, you were still hurting. Normally you would know better than to drink away your pain, but the wound was still fresh, and every drink someone set in front of you, you downed without wincing.

Next thing you knew, you were in the living room of Emma Hseuh’s sprawling mansion, surrounded by faces you didn’t know and voices you didn’t recognize. The last time you had seen Grace was when you both did shots of tequila before dancing on the coffee table together, but that felt like hours ago, and since then she had disappeared into the air like smoke. You figured she must have ditched you again.

You staggered your way past couples sloppily making out and two kids smoking weed to get to the bathroom. You were definitely feeling it now, and you weren’t sure if you were going to puke your guts out or piss your pants. You ended up just splashing water on your face to regain your composure, and when you left, you nearly bumped into Bruce leaning back against the wall in the hallway.

He smirked and pushed off of the wall. “Just who I was looking for.” His eyes widened as you nearly fell flat on your face from the force of bumping into him, and he caught you before you could. “Are you okay?”

He righted you back on your feet, and you pushed him away. “What do you care?”

He laughed at your very drunken appearance. “God, you’re shit faced. What happened to not drinking?”

You scowled. “I thought I told you to leave me alone,” you slurred, your eyes barely open. “Are you following me now?”

The amused expression on his face dropped. “What did I ever do to you? Did it ever occur to you that you’re the one who thinks she’s better than everyone, and that’s why you’re so set on being mean to me?”

You stared up at him, wanting to shrink down into nothing. You were so convinced that he had an ulterior motive behind his actions that you contorted and twisted every interaction you had into something sinister. “I’m sorry, it’s just... After all the things I’ve heard about you...”

“Most of the time, (Y/N), you’ll find that rumors are just that - rumors, born out of jealousy.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and smiled down at you warmly. “Is there any chance we can start over? Let bygones be bygones?”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the way he was looking at you, but you nodded. “I would like that.”

His smile grew. “Great.” He draped his arm over your shoulders and started leading you down the hall. “Why don’t we go somewhere we can be alone?”

He took you to a thankfully empty bedroom. You sat and talked for a while about your life - your hopes, your dreams, your ambitions, where you were and where you wanted to go, everything and nothing all at once. You started to sober up, and you found yourself surprisingly enjoying his company. He was the first real and genuine person you had spoken to all night, and you wanted to curse yourself for ever thinking otherwise.

“So what’s the deal with Grace?” he asked you eventually. “You guys seem like such good friends, but you’re so... different.”

“We grew up together. Our parents are old family friends.” You looked down as you fidgeted with the patterned bedspread. “We used to be so close, but in high school, we started to drift apart. She made friends with those people,” you pointed to the door where everyone was outside, “and, well, you can tell I’m not the partying type...”

“I don’t know. I saw you dancing, and you’re not nearly as bad as you think you are.”

You both laughed. “What about you?” You hugged yourself and looked up at him. “I thought you were supposed to be some hotshot, playboy, Casanova. Why aren’t you out there with the rest of them right now breaking some poor girl’s heart?”

He grew oddly serious. “Because I’d rather be here with you.” You inhaled sharply as he cupped your face in his hands. “Usually, girls fawn all over me when they see me. But not you. You’re the only girl to have ever rejected my advances. You’re different, special.”

He leaned in to kiss you, but you put your hands on his chest to stop him. “Is that all I am to you?” You pushed him away enough that you had room to breathe. “A prize to be won?”

“What?” He furrowed his dark brows. “No, of course not.”

“Well, then maybe some rejection would do your ego good.” You shot up and stormed toward the door.

“What about GCAD?”

His voice made you stop in your tracks. You felt goosebumps rise on your arms. You turned around, shoulders raised and fists clenched, and saw him sitting there with a pleased smirk plastered on his face. “Do you think I don’t know about that?” He leaned back on his hands. “You got rejected, didn’t you? That’s why you’ve been drinking so much.”

“I was waitlisted, not rejected,” you corrected him through gritted teeth. “And how do you know about that anyway?”

“Well, it’s funny.” He looked at you with a shit-eating grin. “I recently just joined the admissions board.”

You swore you were seeing red. You charged at him and grabbed him by the collar of his neatly pressed shirt, wrinkling it. “You did this, didn’t you? You got me waitlisted!”

“Calm down.” He chuckled and pried your fingers off of him effortlessly. “It’s amazing the things you can get if you just throw enough money at them.” He stood up. “I may be able to convince the rest of the board to let you in, for a price, of course.”

“You’re just as bad as everyone says you are,” you spat. “Even worse, actually.”

He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “If you’re done running your mouth, you might put it to better use.” He grabbed you by your chin, forcing you to stare straight into his eyes. They were impossibly dark and empty like the void of space, drawing you into them. “Do what I say, and you’ll be rewarded.”

You tried to jerk away from him. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Because I always make good on my promises, and I’m promising you, (Y/N), you’ll get what you want if you do what I want.”

You felt hot tears sting your eyes as they leaked down your cheeks. You wiped them away with your hands, desperate to preserve what little dignity you had left. “Please, don’t do this. Don’t make me do this,” you whispered.

“I’m not making you do anything. You’re doing this of your own free will.” He threaded his fingers through your hair and yanked, causing you to yelp. “Now, get on your knees. And don’t make me repeat myself.”

You glared at him, and if looks could kill, you were sure he would be six feet under. You absolutely despised him, and even though what you were about to do made you sick to your stomach, getting in to GCAD meant the world to you. You would do anything it takes.

You slowly lowered yourself to your knees, refusing to make eye contact with him on your way down. You sat up eye level with his crotch, awaiting his next instructions.

“Good girl,” he cooed condescendingly, and you resisted the urge to bust his kneecaps. He removed his hands from you and unzipped his fly. His cock sprung free from its confines, hard and aching. “Go ahead. You know what to do.”

You tentatively wrapped your hand around his length, giving his shaft a few uneasy pumps. He hissed with pleasure and bucked into your hand eagerly. You continued to stroke him, but he grew impatient. “Don’t be shy.” He buried his hand in your hair again and moved your head so the tip of his cock pressed between your lips. “Bite me, and you’ll regret it.”

You licked the head of his cock. His precum felt like acid when it hit your tongue. You swallowed your pride and gave him a few more kitten licks before taking him into your mouth. You went as far as you could without choking and used your hand to stimulate what you couldn’t reach.

He growled and used his hand in your hair to bob you up and down his length faster. “Come on, you can take it.” He thrust into you at the same time, and you gagged each time he hit the back of your throat.

Your eyes widened, and you pressed your hands against his hips. He ignored you and continued to use you for his own pleasure. Your throat burned, your jaw ached, and saliva dripped out of your abused mouth and down your chin. You inhaled through your nose, but it was never enough to inflate your lungs fully. You felt like you were on the verge of passing out, though you doubted he would care if you did.

“Look at me,” he demanded. He tugged on your hair ‘til your scalp hurt, and you stared up at him. “I want you to watch me when I cum.”

His thrusts grew spastic, and he guided you up and down his length frantically. “You’re mine now,” he grunted, his voice weak with arousal. His cheeks were flushed, and his dark eyes were clouded over with lust. “You belong to me. I own you.”

He pulled you until you took him in fully, your nose touching his pelvis. He shot his hot cum down your throat in spurts with a wanton groan. He removed himself from you, and you collapsed onto the ground. You sputtered and gasped for breath, your face bright red and your hair mussed. You hacked until you coughed up his cum onto the hardwood. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and sobbed. You had never felt more violated or defiled in your life.

Bruce recovered from his climax and glowered down at you. “You were supposed to swallow like a good slut!” He reached down and grabbed you once again by the hair. He hauled you up, and you cried out. “Oh, we’re not finished yet. Not by a long shot.” He grinned venomously. “If you want to get in to your dream school, (Y/N), you’re going to have to earn it...”

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #dark!bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #Gotham #gotham fanfic #gotham fanfiction #gotham imagine #batman #young bruce wayne #batman fanfiction #batman x reader #batman x you #batman y/n #dark!fic #fanfiction #fanfic

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crewhonk · 5 years

Text

Bet (1/4)

Summary: Through a series of bets made between the two of them, new literature teacher, YN YLN, gets closer to old physics teacher, Bucky Barnes

Words: 2K

Pairings: BuckyYN, Stony, Samtasha

_____________________

“Well, It’s likely not an accurate storytelling of Native Canadian culture, is it? I mean, Boyden was a white dude writing about native Canadians and profiting off of them when there are people that the money would actually help and be earned by someone who actually knows how deeply the wendigo legends can affect people.” Michelle said without raising her hand, and YN looked up from her place at the front of the class, a smile spreading over her face in pride.

YN YLN was the newest addition to the staff at MidTown high school, and she was nothing short of a breath of fresh air. The young Literature teacher had only graduated from university a year and a half ago, taking a gap year to see the world before settling down in her home city of Queens, New York. She challenged her student in a way that they hadn’t been challenged by previous teachers— some of the things Michelle and Peter would tell her about previous English teacher, Brock Rumlow was revolting.

Sure, he did only teach Literature on the side of his PE classes, but nevertheless.

“Brilliant, Michelle.” She winked at her smartest student and Michelle couldn’t help but flush with pride, sinking deeper into one of the many couches YN had thrifted to fill her class with.

“Now, before you all start packing up, I want you guys to know that all ten of your journal entries about ‘Brave New World’ are due this Friday. Yes, Eugene, this Friday.” She hummed, catching Flash grumble to his sidekicks. Flash’s head shot up and seeing YN already staring at him, he flushed and shouldered his backpack.

When he bell rung, YN packed her things, waiting for the last student to leave before grabbing her keys and locking the door behind her and heading her way to the staff room. She greeted a few of the ninth graders sitting on the floor outside of her class and stepping over their bags and walking down the way.

“YLN!” She heard a familiar voice call and she turned quickly to see Natasha Romanoff shutting the door to her honours history class and jogging to catch up to her. Natasha had proven to be a huge help in helping the younger teacher settle into the hustle and bustle of the school, and had also come out to be a very possible close friend.

“How was your weekend?” She asked, falling into step with the younger teacher.

“Boring, honestly. I just marked papers and binged ‘The Legend of She-Ra’ again.” She replied, and rolled her eyes playfully at the scoff that came from her friend.

“You’re such a nerd it’s almost painful sometimes. Listen, there’s a barbecue at Sam and I’s place, and we’re inviting the whole staff. Its a beginning of the year tradition— you have to come.” Natasha smiled as she pushed open the staff room door. YN made a noise and walked in ahead of her and turned before she saw who was in the room.

“I don’t know, I have a senior year class that’s giving me their journal entries for the book Rumlow made them read over the summer— which was ridiculous. Literally, how are you okay assigning homework over the holidays? And a book that complicated and expecting decent results? I’ve never met the guy but I’m happy he was fired.” YN ranted, and Natasha looked on fondly.

“Listen, You’re new to the staff and you’ve barely met anyone but me and Sam and Steve. This would be great for you to do.” She begged and YN rolled her neck and turned away from her, eyes landing directly on the group of men crowded around a table and laughing loudly.

Steve Rogers (Humanities), had his arm resting on the back of Tony Starks (Chemistry) chair— according to Natasha, it was pretty common for teachers to start relationships with each other here. Her and Sam Wilson (he also taught history) had been dating around two years, and Steve and Tony, guessing by the rings on their fingers, had been married quite some time. Sam glanced towards the door and upon seeing Natasha, shot up and made his way over to her.

YN would have looked away as he kissed Natasha in greeting if she had been looking in the first place. Next to Steve sat the tall, beefy, brooding James Barnes. His long-sleeved shirt seemed about ready to tear at the strain his arms were having on it. His hair was tied into a bun at the nape of his neck, and a healthy amount of scruff seemed to have grown over the weekend. He was bantering back and forth with the other Physics teacher, Bruce Banner on an article that had come out on Sunday and while he seemed to be relaxed, he also seemed to be deeply amused by the way Bruce was getting so fired up over the subject.

“Hey, Earth to rookie.” Sam’s voice broke her gaze away from Barnes, and without giving herself time to blush, she smiled up at Sam who seemed to be glaring at her already.

“What did I do?” She asked immediately, and Sam only rose an eyebrow.

“Someone tells me you’re thinking about bailing on this weekend feast? Did she forget to tell you this was an un-skippable event?” He explained and YN rolled her eyes, walking over to the coffee machine and filling her mug again— only adding two sweetener before taking a sip.

“Someone must have forgotten that I have 300 journal entries to grade over the weekend.” She replied, cocking her head and looking at Natasha who only looked pleasantly annoyed.

“So, let me get this straight. You’re going to stay home this weekend and skip a traditional barbecue to grade some homework that the teacher from last year left you?” Sam asked incredulously.

YN pretended to think for a second before nodding and saying “Yep!”

“Dude, just give them all 80% and they’ll be happy.” He groaned, a slight whine entering his tone which happened to amuse YN more than anything else.

“Yeah, and break Michelle Jones’ heart? I don’t think so.” She replied, and YN let her gaze flicker once more to the table in the corner by the window, heat flooding her body pleasantly when she saw James Barnes already looking at her. She watched as he held eye contact before letting his eyes drift over her form and taking in her outfit (flowing skirt and tucked in blouse) and heels before looking at her again and smiling kindly.

“He’s going to be there, too,” Sam said, a smirk on his face that could almost rival Natasha’s. YN fought a sheepish smile and looked up at the couple and back to James, who had already dove deep back into conversation with Bruce.

“I’ll, um— I’ll think about it.”

__________________________

YN was in the middle of shepherding her kids out to the courtyard for a class when she literally ran into James. He was running, already, and YN was amazed by his reflexes as he turned and caught her halfway through her fall. His arms were secure around her waist, and his eyes were wild with excitement— maybe less from their sudden proximity and more due to the fact that there was a group of teenagers behind him holding something that looked vaguely like homemade bottle rockets.

He pulled her to stand, and found himself getting more and more nervous the longer he looked at her this close.

“Im— um, I’m James Barnes.” He said, his voice strong, but nervous. He held out a hand and prayed it wouldn’t be as sweaty as he thought it was as she slipped her own hand into his. He was warm— the sudden heat made her arm hair stand on end, and he fought a shiver as the chill of her own palm rocketed down his spine. “But everyone calls me Bucky.”

“Come on, Bucky, let’s go!” A dark-skinned girl just behind him smirked and he whipped around in surprise before seeing who it was and pointing a finger down at her.

“Watch it, America. I’m not afraid of taking that rocket away from you.” He said sternly, and she held her bottle protectively to her chest, sticking out her tongue playfully before retreating back to her friend group (who was laughing hysterically) consisting of Kate Bishop, Teddy Altman and Cassandra Lang (Scott Lang’s, (Biology) daughter). Eli Bradley and Rayshaun Lucas, who was in her class but also part of that friend group were giggling to each other.

“I’m YN YLN.” She smiled, taking her hand away and shoving it in her skirt pocket to hide the way it shook nervously. In her other hand was ‘Three Day Road’ and on her shoulder was the ratty satchel that looked like it had seen better days.

An expression of Overdramatic recognition flooded his face and he started walking towards the back entrance of the school beside her, their kids trailing behind them like lost ducklings.

“The same YN YLN that would rather skip out on the barbecue and grade than have fun with her peers?” He teased and she laughed, throwing her head back. He ignored the way she went off balance and stepped closer to him. He definitely ignored the way their arms brushed for the fraction of a second.

“You heard about that, huh?” She joked, pushing the doors open and taking a breath of fresh air. They walked across the schools back entrance road and made their way to the expanse of yard beside the track ring where the new gym instructor, Thor, was running laps alongside his students and helping their form and encouraging them with the largest smile.

“I did, and I think you should come. It’s going to be fun, I swear on my life. You’ll be able to meet a few of the kids and everyone is bringing their dogs, so it should be great.” He stopped and told his class to walk a little further to the opening— somewhere safe they would be able to shoot off their rockets.

YN turned to her class and told them to get comfortable as she dropped her bag at the place at the base of the tree they had stopped by.

“The dogs make it even more convincing.” She quipped, now holding her book with both hands and looking up at Bucky. The students on the grass around them were watching them with rapt attention, soaking up this new interaction and getting ready to spread the gossip around the halls during lunch.

“You’ll be able to meet Charlie,” He smiled, bouncing on his toes like an excited child. YN rolled her eyes and decided it would be in their best interest if she played along.

“Who would that be?”

“My mastiff. He’s the biggest cuddle bug.” He smiled, and YN repressed a smile that mirrored his own.

“I don’t know, Mr. Barnes—“ YN said uncertainly and he looked back to his class (not to hide the fact that he was blushing) who were waiting for him fifty feet away. He jumped with an idea ad ran to them, grabbing one purple hole hoop and jogging back, placing the hoop in the middle of her class and smiling at her.

“I’ll make a bet. If I get a bottle in this hoop, you have to come this weekend. If I don’t, you can stay at home and grade.” He smiled and YN just smiled and shook her head, sitting down against the base of the tree and squinting up at him.

“Fine. Now, go do your job, Barnes. You’re being inappropriate.” She chided half-heartedly and he shoved his hands in his pockets and strut away. She looked back at her class who were already watching her with the most amused expressions.

“What?”

“I don’t know if this reminds anyone else of Mr. Wilson in sophomore year trying to get with Miss. Romanoff?” Eli piped up and the rest of the class seemed to remember the story fondly, murmuring to each other and glancing back to Mr. Barnes who was setting his rocket station up. He looked focussed and determined, and YN felt her heart flutter with hope.

“Turn to page 108, please everyone.” She said, cutting off the chatter and waiting for everyone to do so. She nodded to Michelle in front of her and asked her to begin reading. Just as Michelle opened her mouth to begin, a plastic soda bottle landed dead centre in the middle of the class. There was a crowd of ‘whoop!’s’ and YN spun her head to look over at Bucky Barnes, who had two fists raised in the air and the brightest smile on his face.

“See you at Wilsons, YLN!”

________________________

PART TWO

#bucky barnes x reader #plus size!reader x bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes au #Bucky Barnes series #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes fic #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes x you #teacher!bucky #teacher!au #teacher!YN #professor!bucky

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years

Note

Request: romantic Tony Stark x fem!Reader with the song Some Enchanted Evening by Ezio Pinza (from the musical South Oacific).

A/N: I really really love that song!! Ugh it’s so beautiful. Here is a link for the song. Requests are open and I am definitely wanting to do more of these little song prompt type things. Give me a pairing or an x reader and a song and I will try to make magic

***

New York was hosting its annual charity gala for the city. Being that the Avengers called New York home, they didn’t really have a choice but to make an appearance. Tony sat at the team’s table with Rhodey, Wanda, Bruce, and Clint. The rest of the team was mingling with familiar faces and notable figures from all over the city.

Soft music came from the cellist sitting in the back corner of the room. Aldermans, politicians, philanthropists, and even the Mayor herself. Everyone wanted a chance to talk to the heroes who regularly saved the world from destruction.

Tony looked around the room to see where the rest of his teammates were. Thor and Sam were standing near a table of aldermen, chatting with them idly. Natasha and Steve were talking with the mayor at her table. When Steve noticed that the Iron Man was looking in their direction, he nodded for Tony to join them.

Tony rose to his feet and button his suit jacket. Before he so much as stepped out from his seat, his eyes caught a bright red dress.

Some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger, You may see a stranger across a crowded room

You stood with a senator. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his dark blue dress pants. You were smiling so brightly, a few curls hanging down around your face. You held a glass of champagne in one hand. Your other hand moved as you spoke.

There was something about you, whether it be the way your smiled or the way you seemed so animated, so lively, that made Tony unable to look away. He was captivated by this stranger. Rhodey called his name, taking Tony’s attention away from you.

“You good, man?” Rhodey asked him. Tony nodded and messed with one of his cuff links. As he moved out and around the table to go to Steve and Natasha, he looked back to where you had been but no longer were. For some reason, he felt the need to see you again, to properly meet you. He felt like maybe he should search the room until he found the woman with the obnoxiously bright smile, maybe ask around and figure out who she was. But he shook his head at his thoughts and pushed them away.

And somehow you know, you’ll know even thenThat somewhere you’ll see her, again and again

The next time he saw you was at one of the upscale bars in New York. He didn’t see you at first. You were more towards the back of the bar with a group, sitting around a circular booth. Tony sat towards the middle at the largest booth in the bar. He was surrounded by friends, celebrating Thor’s ninth Earth birthday. Tony and Bruce suggested that instead of trying to figure out when exactly he was born, they used the date that he had first come to earth.

Clint was in the middle of telling a story of his first few missions with S.H.I.E.L.D. when Tony heard you.

Some enchanted evening, someone may be laughingYou may hear her laughing across a crowded room

His attention was pulled away from Clint’s story at the sound of laughter. It was rambunctious and airy, a heavenly sound that, for some inexplicable reason, made his heart race. He was stuck staring at you for close to four minutes before you looked in his direction.

You had felt his eyes on you for a while but didn’t try to find who was staring at you. You immediately knew who he was. Who wouldn’t? You gave him a gentle smile and nod of your head. Your friend next to you noticed this interaction and nudged your shoulder, making you look to her.

“Go talk to him.” She encouraged.

“Tony Stark?” Your eyes widened with disbelief at her words. “No way.”

“Y/N, come on!”

“He’s sitting with his friends, Y/F/N.” You told her. “I don’t want to barge in like that.”

You returned to the conversation your friends were having, taking a sip of the fruity drink in front of you.

And night after night, as strange as it seems, The sound of her laughter will sing in your dreams

Three days later, Rhodey noticed a change in Tony's behavior. He was often times he'd zone out in the middle of conversation, his mind wandering somewhere else while those around him spoke. With Friday's help, Rhodey was able to find out that Tony had recently been researching soul mates.

Rhodey found the billionaire in the lab within the Avengers Tower. It was past midnight and he had been down there nearly all day.

"Tony, you need to go to bed. Get some sleep, man." Rhodey moved towards the desk Tony was in. He placed a hand on the back of Tony's chair.

“I'm busy.” He muttered, reading the screen to his laptop.

“With what?” Rhodes looked down at the screen, briefly skimming through the article. He furrowed his brows together. “How to tell if you’ve met your soulmate? Tony, what the hell are you looking at stuff like that for?”

“I-I saw someone, Rhodey.” Tony’s voice was quiet and weak. He was tired, exhausted even, from all the research he’d done, all of the late nights spent searching for scientific explanations for what was going on. He'd seen the same woman two times in less than two weeks. What did that mean? Did it mean anything? “I saw her on two separate occasions.”

Rhodey looked down at his best friend, confused.

“Okay.... What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Tony leaned forward and ran his hands over his face then back through his hair. “Do you believe in soulmates, Rhodey?”

Rhodey sighed gently, pulling a chair up to Tony’s side.

“Why do you ask that?”

“Because I.... I feel....” He trailed off, shaking his head. He leaned back in his seat, resting his arms along the arms of the chair. “I want to know who she is, Rhodey. It’s been a week and I can’t stop thinking about her, about this chick I don’t even know.“

Rhodey said nothing for a while. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“What if that means she’s suppose to be someone important?”

“I think that if you really think that soulmates exist, if you think that there’s a chance this woman you’ve seen twice is meant to be in your life, then I think she’ll show up again.”

Who can explain it? Who can tell you why?Fools give you reasons, wise men never try

The third time Tony saw you was in the lobby of the Avengers Tower two weeks after he had last seen you. You were standing near the front desk with a trio of women. You were dressed in black dress pants, a white button down, and a black blazer. The outfit was simple but to the Iron Man, you looked amazing.

Tony broke away from his teammates to approach you. He didn’t even realize what he was doing until it was too late. His feet were in charge and his thoughts were gone.

The three women you were chatting with caught sight of the Avenger approaching them. They instantly quit paying attention to you to give him flirty smiles and fix their hair. You turned to see who they were gawking at. Your lips parted with a quiet gasp as Tony stopped right in front of you.

His eyes were on you, searching your features. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, your cheekbones. He needed to know if there was some sort of sign maybe that you were important, that you meant something. New York was too busy for coincidences, right?

“Hi.” A little smile tugged at his lips.

“Hi.” A shy smile of your own crossed your mouth. When he didn’t say anything and only stared at you even more, you figured you’d talk. “Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Stark?”

He blinked at the name, pulled from his trance-like state.

“I do believe so. Would you like to go with me to dinner tonight?”

“Tonight?” You raised your brows, looking down at the watch on your wrist. “It’s nearly six o’clock.”

“A late dinner.”

You watched him curiously, trying to figure out his motive. You cocked your head to the side just a little, clasping your hands together in front of yourself.

“But you don’t know my name.”

The smile fell from his lips as he thought that you were going to turn him down. Damn it. He was such an idiot for even thinking you might be his soulmate, something he wasn’t even sure he believed in.

Sensing his disappointment, you held your hand out for him.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He shook your hand carefully, chocolate brown eyes boring into yours. “That’s a beautiful name.”

Some enchanted evening, when you find your true loveWhen you feel her call you across a crowded room

Seven months later, Tony was in a happy and satisfying relationship with you. You filled the hole inside after he lost Pepper. You gave him a reason to take care of himself, to sleep more often and to try to eat actual food. You didn’t like that he went on just coffee for days sometimes when he was having a rough time. You always asked him if he’d eaten when you see him. If he hadn’t, that’s the first thing you do.

He admired how motherly you were, how gentle you were with him. You had patience for days and were able to put up with him and his antics well. You enjoyed his tinkering and encouraged him, but only if he did so healthily. You learned pretty quick that often times he’d get lost in his work. You didn’t mind this, but you didn’t like when it kept him from rest or from mingling with his Avengers family. It was healthy to socialize sometimes.

Tonight was your first night at an event with him. You had somehow been pulled away from your Avenger and were thrust into a conversation with Natasha and a man you didn’t know. You didn’t care to pay attention to the topic. You were too eager to find Tony.

Your eyes flickered around the room in search for him. You spotted him with Steve and a few strangers across the large ballroom. You excused yourself from the conversation with Natasha and the man, and ventured across the room towards him. However, half way to the table you were stopped by a man. He was handsome, sure, and his suit was expensive and nice, but you weren’t interested. He didn’t care that you’d declined his offer to join him at his table. He was too focused on your breasts and giving you meaningless compliments.

“Excuse me.” You spoke through your teeth, glaring at the man as you tried to move around him but his hand latched on to your arm.

“I gave you a compliment, woman. You can’t just walk away from me.”

You turned your head to look in the direction of your boyfriend, still tugging your arm away from the aggressive man.

“Tony!” You called his name.

The second he heard the distress in your voice, he was crossing the room, pushing through the crowd and ignoring anyone who tried to stop him.

The man let you go upon seeing the billionaire approach.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, his eyes finding you. “You okay, pumpkin?”

“I’m fine.” You moved to his side, hooking your arm around his. You glared sharply at the man who dared to grab you. “He grabbed my arm.” You muttered quietly, brushing your fingers against the expensive fabric to his suit.

“Good evening.” Tony held the man’s gaze. Tony had the amazing ability to give someone a smug, sarcastic smile without really trying. “I’m Tony Stark.”

“I know who you are.”

“Oh, good. Then you’d know not to put your hands on Ms. Y/L/N.” Tony gestured to you. “Especially when she doesn’t want you to.”

The man turned to walk away, mumbling curse words under his breath. Just then, Peter popped up behind you two.

“Hey, guys! What’s up?”

“I need a favor, kid.” Tony turned to face the Spider-Man. “You see the big guy behind me wearing a jacket two sizes too small?”

The kid peeked around Tony’s shoulder to look at the man. He snickered and nodded his head.

“Go annoy the shit out of him.”

“Tony–,” You tried to protest but he was having none of it.

“It's okay, Y/N. I've got this handled.”

“Why me, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, furrowing his brows together.

“Because I think Barton’s had too much to drink. He’d start a fight. I just want him annoyed.”

You watched the young Avenger move towards the man. You leaned against Tony, putting your hand on his arm.

“You’re terrible.” You looked up at him with a smile on your lips.

“I know.” He sighed mockingly, turning his head to meet your gaze. Brown eyes looked you up and down, admiring your silver silk dress. “Have I told you how absolutely stunning you look tonight?”

“Just a few times.” You rolled your eyes at him with a smile. He’d at least doe so a dozen times from the time you left the Tower to the time you arrived at the party.

Then fly to her side, and make her your ownFor, all through your life, you may dream all alone

Four years later, you found yourself sitting on a blanket on the beach with Tony behind you, his arms wrapped securely around you, holding you against his chest.

It was the Fourth of July and the Avengers decided to gather on the coast to watch fireworks.

You looked over your shoulder to Tony. As a firework crackled and exploded in the sky, the colors reflected in his eyes. You smiled softly at him, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He looked down at you, a peaceful smile crossing his lips.

“You know, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” He kisses your cheek and then buried his nose in your neck. He could stay like that forever, with you in his arms. Everything was right for once in his life. You��d brought him peace he never knew existed. You brought happiness and control into his dim and chaotic lifestyle. You were the puzzle piece he had been missing, the piece that completed the puzzle.

He shifted a little, his arms tightening around you. As he moved, he could feel the little black velvet box resting in the pocket of his pants. He was going to propose to you, he was ready to settle down and live a life with you that he’d only dreamed of.

He smiled at the thought and rested his chin on the top of your head, his eyes watching a purple and blue firework explode in the sky.

“I love you, pumpkin.”

Once you have found her, never let her goOnce you have found her, never let her go

Taglist: @tone-stark @wayward-dream @coolgeekywolf @trenchcoatedwings @jennylovelyheart

If you want to be added my Tony taglist let me know :)

#requests #queenxxxsupreme #tony stark request #tony stark #tony stark x reader #iron man x reader #iron man #iron man request

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jediknightgoofball · 5 years

Text

One Last Thing // Steve Rogers

READ AUTHOR’S NOTE

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: Steve x reader Word count: 1,381 Warnings: None really

**A/N: This post does contain very minor plot spoilers for Endgame, so if you haven’t seen the movie yet or you don’t want to ruin the experience for yourself I would advise you to keep scrolling :)

Also, I normally don’t write imagines for Marvel, but watching Endgame just rejuvenated my love for Cap so here we go.

A small smirk covered your lips as you examined the new suit given to you by Tony. While your knowledge on quantum physics was as limited as the percent of body fat on Steve Rogers’s body, you knew that its kinetic fibers would protect you in your attempt at time travel. The concept had always frightened you, as you harbored a genuine fear for the unknown, but those stones have to be located if it means bringing back your friends. Your family.

Besides, you looked good. Who would have thought that red and white complimented each other so perfectly?

“Lang,” You greeted the older man with a tilt of your chin, crossing your arms as you watched him wring his hands and scratch at the back of his neck. He hardly spared you a second glance, mumbling incoherently to himself. You pressed further. “Scott.”

His startled green eyes met yours, jaw popping open for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. You rose a brow in disinterest as he straightened his posture, puffing up his chest to appear more stereotypically masculine. “Hi, yes. It is I, Scott Lang: an emotionally stable man who could defeat Thanos in his sleep. I just wanted the rest of you to feel like you had a shot before I went and finished the job myself, thus I came to you for help. I’m very strong.”

“Dude, cut the crap.” You demanded half-heartedly, gaze softening. “This will work, okay? You’ll get to see Hope again, and we can get rid of that purple bastard for good.”

“I know, I know.” He returned, almost sounding defeated before the battle had even begun. “I guess I’m overwhelmed by, just, everything. So much is happening all at once with so much at risk. One wrong step, and I could ruin this for not only myself but everyone.”

“Scott Lang, you are the toughest Ant-Man I know—”

“—there are other Ant-Mans?!—”

“—and you’re not gonna screw up anything, because we’re all gonna be covering each others’ asses out there. We’re a team. A family. We’re all in this thing together.”

“She’s right, Scott.”

Ignoring the tremor that ran through your body at the sound of his voice, the corner of your lip curled upwards as Steve Rogers, Captain America, joined the two of you. He met your eyes briefly before focusing on Scott, his cheeks now carrying a faint pink hue. “We are a family, and families stick together. It won’t be any different for us. We’re gonna go back in time, get to those gems before Thanos, and bring back our friends.”

“God, you guys are good together.” Scott uttered before giving much thought to his words. The compliment caught you off guard, as you choked on your breath while Steve’s face became a deep shade of red. Scott’s eyes widened as he attempted to save himself. “Oh, I didn’t mean it in that way, of course! I was just trying to say that you’re really good at those motivational speech things. You knew that, right? God, maybe I should permanently stitch my mouth shut.”

“Yeah, why would we—”

“How about we just get back to the others?” You suggested, sending a tight-lipped smile to convey your need to evade this conversation topic.

“Great idea!” Steve agreed a little too enthusiastically, the excitement in his tone making you jolt in surprise. Shaking off what may have been the worst interaction in your life, you led the two men back to the rest of your friends.

“We ready to do this?” Natasha wasted no time for pleasantries as she lifted an eyebrow in question. “I know I am.”

“Sure, why not?” Scott responded, nervously, but you could tell from the newfound determination on his face that he was ready.

“Let’s do this.” Bruce said.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.” Clint stated, a hard look in his eyes from all the pain he had endured due to Thanos.

“Hell yeah!” Rocket cheered. “Let’s get this dirtbag, once and for all.”

Thor tipped his head back to chug the soda in his hand before crushing the can and releasing a belch that caused even you to crack a smile. “I’m with the Rabbit.”

“Well, majority rules.” Tony pointed out, an edge to his tone that hid his true levels of excitement to be working with the team again. “Let’s go save our friends, and hopefully the world.”

Natasha guided the temporary remaining members of the Avengers to the Quantum Portal. Your friends followed her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. Something was holding you back. Or someone.

“Actually, Steve,” There was a waiver to your voice, and you silently cursed yourself for waiting so late to do what you were about to do. The man stopped in his tracks and looked back at you, brows furrowed in question. You sighed shakily, suddenly hating the way feelings made you feel. Your spoke quietly so as to not alert the other seven people who will definitely tease you about this once everything is back in order. “Can I talk to you about something for a second?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Everything alright back there, you two?” Tony shouted, but the dryness in your throat made you unable to speak above anything more than a whisper.

Steve took note of this, probably because he’s never seen you in such an emotional state before, and answered for you. “Yeah, we’ll be over there in a minute.”

“Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven, fifty—ow! What the hell, Iron Moron?!”

“Don’t make me get a muzzle, because I can make that happen.”

Steve shuffled into your line of sight, his calm and reassuring baby blues giving you the courage to catch your breath. “What is it?”

In a terrifyingly accurate Lang-like fashion, an avalanche of words tumbled from your mouth before you could organize your thoughts. “Okay, so, this one thing has really been bugging me that revolves around the two of us. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it ever since we met, but, obviously that never happened. I guess it’s because of these stupid walls I put up to block out anyone who I find myself even the sligh—”

Steve’s touch was gentle yet persistent. Kind yet urgent. Loving yet determined. His lips were soft and warm, like a field of flowers on an enchanting summer day. His hands held your face in such a way that anchored you to him. The two of you became one as he drew your body in closer, your hands finding a place to rest on his chest. Every emotion running through your bodies could be felt within the embrace.

The urgency of the mission.

The secret fear you held for its outcome.

The doubts you hid to be a strong leader for your teammates.

The ambition to bring back your friends.

The passion you held for one another.

As you parted for air, your eyes remained closed. After pushing back the desire for any chance of happiness for yourself, you had finally fought those inner demons to find love. You finally had him. You wanted to bask in this moment of self-glory in his arms for eternity, but even a couple more seconds would suffice.

Rowdy cheers and applause were what forced you to open your eyes to the genuine smiles on the faces of those you loved. Seeing them celebrating in a time such as this lightened the weight on your shoulders, as living a life like yours required you to seize every moment of laughter that you could.

Steve’s smile widened upon seeing your happy expression. He brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, before slightly shaking his head in bewilderment at the sight before him. “You ready to go restore humanity, doll?”

“Always,” You kissed his pink cheek, your smile falling the slightest bit as you said your next words. “Just don’t die on me, Rogers.”

“And you be careful.”

“When am I not?” You winked, poking his nose.

The two of you rejoined the team in the Quantum Portal where you would be sent back to the past. You locked eyes with Tony across the way, who flashed you a quick thumbs up and a wink.

From that point forward, you all began the mission to save your friends, and hopefully the world.

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kumeko · 5 years

Text

rumour has it

Prompt: wonderbat, meet bruce’s kids, animated universe

Characters/Pairings: WonderBat, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne

A/N: Written for the WonderBat Valentine Exchange, for Shieldmaiden. Since I technically did “meet alfred” prompt

already, I picked the longer fic idea. Also, I know a mish mash of different animated versions of batman and I’m assuming that Cass is in one of them. Though I did not put Jason because I really don’t care for him.

Summary: Every single one of Bruce’s kids had the same question to ask Diana about her relationship with Bruce.

…

i. Dick

“Wonder Woman, huh?” Robin landed softly on the roof next to her and if weren’t for his words, she would have barely heard it. Bruce had taught him well. “Don’t often see you in this neck of the woods.”

Diana spared a glance at the boy next to her—the teenager looked short for his age and she wasn’t sure if that was a late growth spurt or if all of this late night crime fighting was taking its toll on his health. Another thing to ask Bruce about. “I don’t often have to meet with Batman in his home.”

Robin cocked his head. “Right, the Justice League. You always meet in your headquarters, right?”

“Yes.” She scanned the roof tops once more. No matter what time of day it was, Gotham looked grim. Even the sunlight reflecting off the glass windows during the day couldn’t make it seem above board. Now that it was night and everything had a layer of darkness over it, it didn’t take much to imagine the crime running virulent on the streets below. No wonder Bruce was reluctant to leave this place.

She had already heard of Clark’s disastrous attempt to help out. This was a city that didn’t want to be saved.

“As you can see, he’s not here right now.” Robin leaned against the rail next to her, looking down at the city lights. “But I can take a message.”

Diana laughed, struck by the pure brazenness of the child next to her. She could see why Bruce was having a hard time with him; it was hard enough to watch Green Lantern, Green Arrow, and Batman interact in their headquarters as is. To have that repeated at home too? Pure torture. Perhaps that was why Bruce constantly looked dour.

Though, next to this Robin, anyone would look depressed. The smile on his face hadn’t left once through out their entire conversation.

“Can you now?” Her lips curved into a grin and she gently rose in the air. “Then tell him he owes me one. I’ll collect later.”

Robin’s eyes sparked curiously but he didn’t say anything. No doubt he’d grill Bruce later and it was a pity she couldn’t witness that.

-x-

ii. Cass and Tim

Thwack. Slap. Thud.

Diana didn’t have to enter the training room to know exactly what those sounds meant. She had trained with the best of them and by now could identify just what moves made each sound. A kick. A punch. They all sounded one sided and when she opened the door, it didn’t surprise her to see Robin crash into a post with a sharp groan.

On the other end of the room, Batgirl crouched in a stance, a hand in front of her, palm facing out. As the door creaked, she spun around, still in a stance until she spotted Diana. Then, just as quickly as she had turned, her eyes widened in surprise and she stood straight in attention.

Truly, despite all the magic and death and rebirths Diana had seen, the most amazing miracle was how much expression a mask could show. The white eyes, though firmly fixed to cloth, somehow seemed to stretch and shrink with the wearer’s mood. Perhaps she should get one herself, just to see what it’s like.

“Cass, what are you—” As Robin slowly stood up, he followed Batgirl’s stare until he saw Diana. His eyes scanned her up and down several times before he finally squeaked, “Wonder Woman?”

“Yes?” Diana chuckled; she had forgotten what it was like to be with the younger heroes. It had been ages since Donna had left this stage. “You can continue.”

“No, no, that’s fine.” Robin quickly brushed his clothes and cape for any speck of dust before standing stiffly next to Batgirl. “What brings you here?”

“I just needed to ask Batman something.” It was strange, she had seen Robin interact with Superman before and he hadn’t looked half as rigid as he did now. Was this an image thing or maybe she just hadn’t spent enough time with heroes that weren’t in the league? “But I guess he’s not here.”

Robin made a great show of looking around before quickly shaking his head. “No, he’s—”

Batgirl signed something, her fingers running through a series of shapes. Processing them, Robin turned back to her. “He’s with Superman right now, something about a toy and a giant robot?” He trailed off, rubbing his head. “Maybe Oracle could patch you through?”

“It’s fine, it’s not important.” Turning to Batgirl, Diana smiled. “Your stances were great. I could hear it.”

Batgirl blinked. “You…hear…” After starting and stopping a few times, she gave up and started signing with her hands. Quickly, Robin translated. “You could hear it?”

“Yes. When you’ve fought enough, you can hear it.” Diana slid into her own stance, her arms extending out. “Do you want to hear?”

“Oh.” Robin swallowed, his head bobbing up and down faster than his adam’s apple. “Yes, that would be awes—” Reading Batgirl’s next series of signs, he frowned. “You want to what?”

“Spar?” Diana guessed with a grin. She’d heard about Cassandra Cain, about the girl who was more weapon than human. With her upbringing, she had a taste of what that could be like. How hard it was to read a motion and not think of what dangers it posed.

At least, judging by Batgirl’s eager nod, she seemed to be learning what it meant to be human again as well. While she was sure it wasn’t all Bruce’s credit, it surprised her a little. Even Robin’s demeanor surprised her. The lone wolf of the justice league had a surprisingly warm family.

“There’s no way,” Robin scoffed, laughing awkwardly as he rubbed his neck. “I mean, you’re Wonder Woman, and we’re sidekicks at best and—”

“And what better way to learn?” Diana extended her arms, shifting her feet until her weight was centered. “Even if you have Batman, I’m sure I can teach you a thing or two.”

Robin bit his lip, looking torn. Beside him, Batgirl tugged on his sleeve insistently. “Come Cass—”

She took off her mask, her dark, sweaty hair tumbling around her shoulders. Dropping the apparel, she signed something furiously.

“But—”

“Yes. Do.” Cassandra glared at him and despite her halting English, her expression spoke more than enough words.

“Fine, fine, got it.” Robin held out his hands in front of him in surrender. Picking up his staff off the ground, he held it in front of him. “We accept.”

Despite his hesitation, his expression was just as determined as Cassandra’s and Diana nodded in approval. Good. “You can both come at me together.”

“We have to,” Robin answered depreciatively. Next to him, Cassandra signed something and his ears turned red. “Cass! I can’t just ask that!”

“What?” At Diana’s question, Robin’s skin flushed a darker red and she raised a brow. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Robin squeaked, his voice high. He quickly slid his own stance, his staff close to his side. “Let’s just fight. Now.”

-x-

iii. Damian

“This is not your cave.”

Diana looked up and found the latest Robin perched on a ledge above her. Batman’s cave felt more like a rabbit’s burrow than a bat cave, with multiple tunnels in and out and ledges upon ledges for vehicles and supplies.

And now, sidekicks. “I would not keep a cave.”

“That’s because you don’t have anything.” Gracefully, Robin leapt off the ledge and tumbled through the air before landing softly on his feet. His mother’s teachings were well-honed in his body and Diana remembered a much younger Cassandra Cain. If she had been a blade, he was a dagger.

And if Bruce was hoping he would turn out like Cassandra, then he had his work cut out for him. It was hard to change someone who did not want to. Who did not see the problem.

Standing up, Robin crossed his arms. “You have a primitive island and even that doesn’t want you anymore.”

“I was told that you lacked manners.” Diana’s brow furrowed, involuntarily frowning. “Shall I teach you some?”

“Manners are for guests and you are not one.” Robin glared back, completely unintimidated. Despite his cheerful red and green colour scheme, he looked more like a hawk than a robin.

She wasn’t sure if she should be surprised or unsurprised that Bruce was actually this Robin’s father, unlike the other adopted sidekicks. Not for the first time, she was glad that Cassandra Cain and Dick Grayson were the heir apparents. Gotham might never be saved but she could only see it completely destroyed if left in this one’s hands. “Where is Batman?”

“My father is out.” If possible, his glare deepened. There was a small dagger in his hand and Diana blinked. Just when had he pulled that out? “I don’t know what you’re planning with him, but—”

“Okay, okay, hold it right there.” Dick Grayson leapt out of a nearby doorway. His hair was in a disarray and his suit was rumpled, as though he had sprinted out of a business meeting to get here. Catching Robin’s hand, he shook his head. “Let’s not threaten Wonder Woman.”

“Grayson.” Robin turned his glare up. “Do not get in my way.”

“We’ll deal with your daddy issues after.” Dick sighed before smiling up at her. “Sorry about that, he’s a little overprotective.”

“A little?” Diana raised a brow, a finger tapping on thigh.

“A lot,” Dick corrected easily, successfully worming the dagger out of Robin’s hands. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure to teach him some manners.”

Robin growled, annoyed. “I already know my manners, and I will not allow father to be taken in by—”

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Dick pressing his hand against Robin’s mouth. “We really don’t need to hear the rest of that.” There was a loud chomping sound and he winced. “And he bit me.”

iv. Bruce

Diana wasn’t sure if she liked the space tower more than the old headquarters on earth. There was something distant about the structure now, something out of humanity’s grasp. Still, she had to admit it had a nice view.

It seemed Batman agreed because he was standing next to one of the floor length windows, staring down at Earth. Quietly, she came to a stop next to him and gazed down at the bright blue-green orb. “I didn’t think you were one to take in the view. No matter how nice.”

“I’m not,” he admitted easily, still staring out.

How very like him to not explain himself. Diana chuckled. “You know, I think your family has the wrong impression of us.”

Batman didn’t say anything but she could tell she had his attention now. When they first met, she didn’t think she could learn to read him so well, this man who didn’t quite seem to know who he was. Only who he wasn’t. He wasn’t Bruce the billionaire player. Nor was he the stoic, cold-hearted anti-hero he liked to paint himself as.

He was something softer than either, something quieter. But it would take him longer to realize what she could see. “They think we’re dating.”

“Ah.” His posture straightened, his shoulders tense, and she could read the hesitant question on his mind.

Later, she would tease him about it but right now the moment felt fragile. She grabbed his gloved hand. “I don’t know what has taken us this long.”

His lips curved up and he laced his fingers through hers. “It is a nice view,” he agreed, and she laughed.

#justice league #bruce wayne #batman #wonderbat #Wonder Woman #dick grayson #damian wayne #cassandra cain #tim drake #fanfic

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autumnhobbit · 7 years

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If you have time / still want to, I'd love to see some fluffy Tim & Damian being brotherly in public. Maybe at a party or some kind of WE event where the media is watching them all closely so they have to play nice? Or the media hassling one of them and the other coming to the rescue?

Turned out kinda less-fluffy than I’d maybe meant it to be—it’s set in a time period wherein they’re still kind of not-good with each other. But hopefully you’ll enjoy. :)

“Tim.”

Bruce’s urgent hiss made Tim snap his head up from the technically-illegal champagne he’d been halfheartedly eyeing all evening in the vague hope that it might make the party slightly more tolerable. His eyes widened; his adopted father’s tie was missing and his shirt collar was askew, and he was about as non-death-related frantic as Tim had ever seen him outside the cowl, so he stuck the champagne flute somewhere behind him onto what he hoped was a table and hurried over to Bruce.

“What is it? Is it a vill—what…” Tim stopped short with a slight gasp now that he was up close. “Is that…lipstick?”

Bruce flushed. “None of your business,” he grumbled awkwardly.

Tim bit his lip so hard he was surprised it wasn’t bleeding, but it was worth it because he knew if he weren’t stifling, his whacked-out grin/grimace would rival Joker’s.

“It’s about Damian!” Bruce insisted, clearly trying to change the subject.

Tim sighed. Of course it was. “What did you do?”

“Well…I…see, I was simply having a conversation when I was,” he coughed, “interrupted, and sort of…invited to the east corridor…”

Tim buried his face in his hands. “It was Selina, wasn’t it.”

Bruce’s lack of an answer was an answer all its own, and Tim shook his head, not removing his hand from his face. “Why. What does this have to do with anything.”

“If you would let me finish…” Bruce half-growled. Tim made a show of setting his jaw, and Bruce sighed, some of the irritation going out of him. “Selina and I were in the hall, and I didn’t see Damian until he was right up close, and by the time I’d gotten straightened up and called him–”

“He’d run off,” Tim finished, sighing.

“Yes. And now I can’t find him anywhere.” Bruce seemed relieved that discussion of his embarrassment was over.

Tim blew out another breath, his bangs flipping up for a moment before flopping back over his eyes. “Fine,” he said flatly, yanking off his jacket and thrusting it at Bruce. “I’ll find the gremlin. But you’re probably going to have to have a talk with him where you explain that loving Selina doesn’t mean you’re invalidating his existence, if you two lovebirds are actually planning on seeing each other again within the next six months.”

Bruce accepted the jacket with a bit of confusion. “Damian thinks that…”

“Yes. Duh. How could he not. You know how he is,” Tim sighed, not willing to discuss it at length. He only knew because Dick had mentioned it at one point during one of his long rambles of his worries for Damian, and he didn’t like to think about it too much. It was hard to hate the little brat when he actually acted his age for once; especially over something he should in no sane universe have reason to worry about.

“Are…are you sure you’re okay with doing this, Tim?” Bruce asked, and Tim cursed internally, because he could practically hear Bruce’s brain coming back on and realizing–oh, Tim doesn’t like Damian and might not be able to handle him, or want to. “I can come with you…”

“No.” Tim bit his tongue again at how harshly the word came out. “…I’ll be fine,” he forced his voice to ease off some, turning to meet Bruce’s irritatingly repentant eyes. “Besides, he’s upset with you right now. I might have better luck getting him to come back.”

Bruce nodded, subdued. “Alright. But…why did you need to take your jacket off…?”

“Because if I know the little snot–and I do,” Tim sighed, “finding him will either involve scaling architecture that’s not meant for climbing on, or crawling.”

____

In the end, it took him a little over an hour to find Damian. And he was not at all sure he would have been able to find him before morning if he hadn’t happened to walk past a large china cabinet at the exact moment a small, squeaky sound came from it; a sound that suspiciously resembled a childish, sniffly snore. Tim froze, and then slowly turned and crouched down, very gently eased one of the cabinet doors open a crack. The faint light from the nearby ballroom revealed Damian’s tiny shape, curled up into a ball with his knees beneath his chin. He was fast asleep, with tear streaks drying on his little brown cheeks.

Tim silently eased the door shut again and hung his head, trying to psych himself up to try and extricate the boy from the cabinet without losing any limbs. Finally, he grabbed the door handle and carefully opened both the doors, cringing the entire time and praying that the light wouldn’t wake Damian up. It didn’t. Damian slept right through it.

Tim dropped his hands onto his thighs, now staring at Damian asleep in the cabinet, in plain sight. He cautiously roved Damian’s suit with his eyes. He couldn’t see any obvious weapons…but it was Damian. There were all sorts of places one could hide weapons in a three-piece-suit, even if it was tiny.

Well. His options were to get Damian out himself, or go and get Bruce and risk him waking up. And while waking him up would have the pleasant side effect of Tim not having to gently finagle the little brat out of the cabinet, he was 100% in favor of more interactions with Damian wherein Damian was either unconscious or silent. So, Tim very slowly reached in and slid his hand underneath Damian’s arm, trying to get a firm grasp in his armpit. Damian didn’t stir, so he repeated the process. He paused, took a deep breath, and then gently tugged Damian out of the cabinet and towards him.

Damian stirred, shifting his head and making a soft noise of discomfort, and Tim gulped, pulling him all the way into his lap and quickly securing him so he could still, holding his breath.

Damian’s left hand came up clumsily, flopping slightly, and ran up the side of Tim’s neck—Tim tried very hard not to instinctively panic, because alone in dark hallway with tiny assassin touching neck(!!!)—and then patted his cheek for a second, not so much affectionately, but more like Damian was trying to figure out who he was. Tim was pretty sure he’d pass out from oxygen starvation soon, but he was honestly scared to move.

Damian’s hand eased off his face, hovering for a moment. Then, it flopped down onto Tim’s shirt front and fisted in it. Using his grip on the shirt, Damian pulled himself up a bit more and pressed his face against Tim’s chest, rubbing his cheek against Tim’s shirt. Then, he leaned his head against Tim’s shoulder and slowly stilled again, breathing soft.

Tim’s jaw dropped. Was…was Damian nuzzling? Him?

He sat there in shock for probably five minutes, just unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed. What the frick. The little snot probably did it to Dick all the time. That was probably why he did it to Tim in the first place, come to think of it. He probably thought Tim was Dick.

An easy mistake to make, when nobody else ever even pretends to give a care about his feelings, an annoying voice in the back of Tim’s head spoke up. Tim shook his head, dismissing the thought. Well, if Damian thought he was Dick, maybe he could take advantage of that fact, because there was no way in hell he was going back out into that ballroom cradling Damian bridal style like some kind of baby. He carefully hefted the kid up and shifted him around, finagling him so he was resting on Tim’s back. He pulled Damian’s hands up so they were placed near his collarbone, a good distance away from his trachea, thank you very much, and clasped them together, hoping it would be enough to keep him on. He then grabbed under Damian’s calves, and pulled him up firmly onto his back as he stood. Damian’s head lolled forward into his shoulder, and his hair tickled Tim’s cheek, but his hands seemed fairly secure, so Tim set his jaw and marched back towards the ballroom and Bruce. He fully intended to demand an immediate return home and a very rare collectible Star Wars model as his payment for retrieving Damian unscathed.

He slipped into the ballroom on the edges, hoping to avoid too much notice. He spotted Bruce on the other side of the room, chatting with Commissioner Gordon, and made a beeline towards him, just short of charging at ramming-speed. He slipped up beside Bruce and tugged at his jacket with his free hand. “Here. Fully-functioning with no holes or leaks. Can we go home?”

Bruce glanced down with what looked like the beginnings of a very stern reprimand, but upon seeing Tim his eyebrows rose nearly into his hairline. “Uh….of course. It’s late for you boys anyway.” He nodded towards the Commissioner. “If you’ll excuse me.”

The Commissioner took a very long swig from his glass to (badly) hide his grin. “Of course. Have a good night,” he said amiably. Bruce nodded politely and then wrapped an arm around Tim, his hand resting on Damian’s back. Tim followed along obediently.

“Do you want me to take him?” Bruce asked, once they were out in the parking lot.

Tim shook his head. “Nah. He’s not that heavy. And I don’t want you waking him up.”

“…Alright,” Bruce allowed, after a suspiciously long moment, and Tim shot him an irritated side-eyed glance at the paternal pleasure in Bruce’s voice. It didn’t remotely mean he liked the little brat. He was just carrying all the weight of the household, as usual. Besides, Damian was warm against his back, especially outside in the sudden chill. His half-snored breaths brushed Tim’s hair against his ear.

Tim slowed down when they reached the car, and allowed Bruce to lean down and gently ease Damian off of his back. Damian made a snuffling noise, re-positioning himself against Bruce’s chest this time. Tim cringed at the sweaty spot on the shoulder of his shirt where Damian’s cheek had been pressed. He slid into the front seat without a word, pointedly ignoring Bruce as he carefully buckled his son into his seat and brushed his sweaty bangs back from his small face, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Tim adjusted his tie as Bruce climbed into the front seat and closed the door, started the car with a rumble.

“Tim.”

“Huh,” Tim said, not looking up.

“Thank you for finding Damian and bringing him back safely. I appreciate it.”

Tim huffed. “Whatever,” he said tiredly.

He stiffened when Bruce’s hand touched his head, but didn’t resist or respond when he was lightly tugged to the side and a kiss was placed against his temple, the closest part of him Bruce could reach. He didn’t respond, but his posture loosened a bit. Solely out of exhaustion, of course. He stared out the window as they drove, listlessly watching the streetlights flash by.

He wasn’t sure exactly when he fell asleep, only that he woke up a bit when Bruce was tucking him into his bed. He sluggishly rolled his eyes–he was in high school, for crying out loud–but he was too tired to put up a fuss about it, and promptly fell asleep with the ghosting sensation of Bruce’s hand in his hair.

____

The following morning, Tim got out of bed at around 9:45, as was fairly typical of the mornings after charity balls. He wandered downstairs to find food, still half-asleep.

When he stumbled into the kitchen, Bruce was nowhere to be seen—probably at WE, or down in the Cave—but Alfred was at the stove, and Damian was sitting at one of the barstools, lightly kicking his dangling legs. “Morning, Master Tim,” Alfred said. “And how was the gala last night?”

Tim groaned, dropping into the barstool furthest from Damian and burying his face in his folded arms.

“That bad, Master Tim?”

“I’m just glad it’s over, Alfie,” Tim mumbled, not moving his head. He felt Alfred’s hand give a gentle pat to his hair, and a plate was set down somewhere on the table next to him.

“Well, on the bright side, you were in this morning’s newspaper,” Alfred said, his voice warm, and Tim’s head shot up. “What?”

Alfred picked up the newspaper from atop the breadbox and set it down in front of Tim. The front page’s headline was graced with a photograph of an exasperated-looking Tim with a very innocent-looking Damian snoozing on his back, with “WAYNE HEIRS ARE TALK OF POLICE DEPARTMENT BALL.”

Tim gritted his teeth. He had hoped he would have been able to avoid being seen, but of course he couldn’t. There were tons of press at that stupid ball. He glanced very cautiously at Damian, who was stone-faced and avoiding his gaze.

“I must say, I will have to send a token of my gratitude to the photographer,” Alfred said cheerfully. “I have wanted a good picture of both of my youngest grandsons for a very long time.”

Tim bit his lip and dropped his head into his hands. He couldn’t be mad when Alfred played the grandfather card.

He sat there in that position, and didn’t move for a while. Eventually, a plate was set down in front of him, and he tipped his head up to give Alfred a faint smile as a thank you. Alfred returned it and brushed his bangs back from his eyes, giving him a quick kiss on his forehead before straightening.

“I’ll be upstairs fixing the light fixture in Master Dick’s room if either of you need me,” Alfred said to Damian and Tim. “Enjoy breakfast, and please behave.”

Tim nodded but clenched his jaw, feeling like he was about four. He swirled his spoon around in his cream of wheat. At least Alfred hadn’t fixed him eggs.

He glanced over at Damian, who in fact had no breakfast left, but was still sitting on the barstool and swinging his legs and decidedly not looking at Tim.

“Look, it won’t happen again,” Tim said, sharp but tired. “Bruce just asked me to find you, so I did.”

Damian kept swinging his legs, his gaze fixed firmly on the tabletop. “Tt. Of course it won’t. Pennyworth and Father are pleased, so you have no reason to.”

Tim shrugged and went back to his cream of wheat. If it were a normal day, he might have taken Damian’s haughty statement for what it was, but as he sat there eating, his stupid brain turned the sentence over and over and actually considered it. Was…was Damian actually disappointed that he had no chance of it happening again?

Or is he upset that you never treat him like he matters, because he wants you to?

Tim pressed his lips together tightly. Why did his stupid conscience always have to come to these probably-incorrect-but-still-surprisingly-effective conclusions. And why did it always have to be when he had the least amount of willingness to try to actually talk things out.

He didn’t want to say anything, but not saying anything felt wrong, and he really didn’t feel like having a long, angst-filled conversation with the demon spawn. He tried to tone his voice a bit jokingly, and remarked, “I have to say, I like you better asleep.”

A beat.

“Me too.” Damian mumbled. Tim almost slammed his head against the table in frustration. Goshfrikkin–it was a joke. While he was in the midst of self-loathing over that little bungled interaction, Damian spoke again.

“You are a…suitable pack mule, Drake…for your purposes, I suppose.” He humphed. He grabbed his plate and hopped off the barstool, wandering to the sink, placing his plate inside, and marching off without another word. Tim watched him go, with more than a bit of trepidation and some regret. Someday, they really would have to talk all this out, if they ever wanted their interactions to stop being such a mess of repressed emotions and intense issues. But for now, that was going to have to be as close of an ‘I don’t entirely hate you’ as they could get.

(Ao3 link here.)

#tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #jim gordon #selina kyle #replies #tantum-cobalt #batfam #dc #fic #my fic

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kelleyschorn · 6 years

Text

Kelley Reviews: Avengers Infinity War

Hello and welcome to my first official review! I will be doing both book and movie reviews on this blog as well as maybe an occasional website or album review. The style in which I will be reviewing is basically what I think worked, what didn’t work, and how I think they could have done better and/or theories about the sequel if said work is part of a series. With that being said, there will be SPOILERS in this review!!! If you haven’t seen the movie, see it, then come back. So without further ado, here is what I thought of Avengers: Infinity War.

Getting right into it, this movie was highly anticipated by the world and by me. My friends and I drove an hour away to see it on opening night because it was sold out in College Station and had been sold out for weeks (before it was even released!). So I will say that I am a bit biased because I love Marvel movies and have seen and loved every single one of them (with obvious exceptions like the 2008 Incredible Hulk, but, seeing as they don’t even use the same actor we can all take a blind eye to that mess). All this being said, let’s get in to the fun part of this review—what I liked about it.

WHAT WORKED

Character. Character, character, character. This has always been one of Marvel’s strengths and they did not disappoint. Building on every little detail from they’re previous works; they had an amazing cast of heroes lined up for this movie. I’ve got to admit that going in, my expectations were that this movie would be a complete mess due to how many characters they would have to juggle, but I was pleasantly surprised by how masterfully they handled their humungous cast. I liked that they did groupings, similar to how Stranger Things S2 strengthened its characters with groupings, and similar to what Marvel did in Civil War. They paired up characters we haven’t seen together before to give us a new view of them then we’ve seen previously. For instance, we finally get to see Dr. Strange interact with some of the main crew aside from his cameo in Ragnarok. Pairing his narcissistic personality with the equally hotheaded Tony Stark and then throwing Peter Parker into the mix to give Tony something to care about was a great move. Also I feel like Tony Stark as a character is the strongest person. So much has happened to him from the first iron man, so much pain and loss that I feel a bit stressed out every time something new is added onto that. Admittedly, the Thor and Rocket pairing could have been a bit better but it was still entertaining nonetheless.

I’ll also take a brief moment to recognize and appreciate Thanos. Marvel has been criticized in the past for having weak villains but the writers put extra care into giving us Thanos’ back story and motivation as to why he is the way he is. Again the genius of Marvel, because we already know all of the heroes and they need no big long-winded introduction, we get to spend that time on Thanos, which I think was the right move. Speaking of the right move, fun fact: the reason Thanos wanted to destroy half the universe in the comics was so that he could impress and get with a sexy skeletal persona of death. The storyline they made up for him in the movie was much less random and more believable so good job on that Marvel!

I also loved the way that they set everything up as being two years after Civil War and all that has happened to the team since then. The tension with Tony not wanting to call Steve and then seeing how the rest of the Avengers have all still been working together across the world despite everything that happened. I want to set aside a brief moment to appreciate the relationship we see between Wanda and Vision. I shipped them so hard in Civil War and I freaked out when I saw their scene together at the start of the movie. Good job Marvel, I appreciated that.

Another thing that really worked for me were their transitions and the plot. I know that plot is a pretty vague and all-encompassing term to use but I’ll explain. A quick word on the transitions, they were simple, words on the screen about which location we were entering. Short and sweet and it got the point across without interrupting the story—I’d say that’s a success. Now we’ll talk about the plot. When I say that the plot worked what I mean is that Marvel’s writers successfully balanced a huge cast of well-established characters, the introduction of a villain we’ve only seen glimpses of, and multiple new locations all without confusing the viewer and, in my opinion, every element was pulled off well. I’ll make this comparison. The Last Jedi, which came out last December, also had a large cast of characters and a lot was attempted with the plot: (Soft Spoilers ahead, skip this bit if you haven’t seen TLJ!) the Finn and Rose side adventure and love connection, the Kylo and Rey force connection, the Rey and Luke relationship, the growth arc for Poe, the final battle at the end. A lot happened and it felt rushed confusing and jumbled in a lot of the movie. In contrast, with just as many plot elements and more characters, Marvel managed to create a seamless story with great transitions.

WHAT DIDN’T WORK

Thor’s eye. If you saw Ragnarok (which I hope you did if you saw Infinity War), you obviously saw Thor’s eye get dramatically slashed out by Cate Blanchett aka Hela in the epic brother sister showdown at the end of the movie. At the start of Infinity War, we see Thor rocking his Odin-like eyepatch only to be quickly replaced with a new glass eye given to him by rocket. Why. Why would Marvel even go through the trouble of taking out his eye in the first place? I thought the new haircut and eye patch were a good look for him personally and the glass eye felt like a huge and useless copout. Speaking of Ragnarok, where was Tessa Thompson the Valkyrie? And Corg for that matter? They fly off with the rest of Asgard at the end and aren’t seen or heard from in Infinity war. Are we to assume that they died with the rest of the Asgardians in Thanos’ attack? After some digging, I found that Joe Russo, one of Infinity War’s co-directors, said that Valkyrie escaped with the other Asgardians on escape pods during the attack. It is likely that in the next Avengers movie, we will find out more about this.

Bruce Banner. Something weird was obviously up with the Hulk in this movie and to me that spells foreshadowing for the next movie. That I didn’t so much have a problem with, the thing that bothered me about Banner in this movie were some of his lines. Specifically the scene with him and Shuri. I get that she is supposed to look like this super genius with her advanced Wakandan knowledge but even in Black Panther it was hard to buy. Putting her up against Banner, who has been proven to be hella smart in previous movies and trying to make him seem dumb just fell flat came off as cringe-worthy and unbelievable.

Finally, the deaths. Suffice it to say—I’m not worried. It’s public knowledge that both Spiderman, the Black Panther, and the Guardians of the Galaxy have more movies lined up for the future. It is also known that Chris Evan’s has said that he is officially stepping down as Captain America after the next Avengers. So as far as who died, it might have been more effective to kill off some of the heroes who have been around a while. Make us sweat a little. For those reasons, the deaths were less effective for me emotionally because I didn’t believe them. Although I will say that when Peter Parker died, that shit was sad!

WHAT’S NEXT?

We already know that we are in for a Captain Marvel Introduction based on the end scene and I also predict that the Hulk is going to have an important role in the next movie given that he refused to come out of Banner in this one and we still don’t know why. Shuri, who we don’t really see what happened to her after she’s thrown from her lab, might become an interim Black Panther in her brother’s stead—this apparently happens pretty often in the comics. Black Widow also survived and I’m hoping that the writers will touch on her and Banner’s previous romance in the next movie. Honestly I think it will come down to Dr. Strange. Yes he disintegrated but remember he did say that there was only one way that everything would turn out alright—this has got to be the way. Maybe at the end of the next movie we will come back to when Strange was sitting on the rock with the time stone and this whole thing was his vision of how Thanos won but was ultimately defeated and then he opens his eyes and is like “alright, let’s do this.” Sort of like a Twilight Breaking Dawn part two kind of ending.

Overall, I loved this movie. Marvel’s writers never cease to surprise and amaze me. It was epic throughout the entire movie and I cannot wait to see the next one. Thanks for checking out my blog. I’d love to hear your take on the movie and what you think will happen in the next Avengers! Leave a comment, email me, or hit me up on twitter to join the conversation and let me know what you thought of Avengers Infinity War!

#avengers #infinity war #avengers infinity war #avengers infinity spoilers #movie review

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get-your-fics · 5 years

Text

Violent Delights - Chapter Two

Something Rotten

Summary: Bruce Wayne is addicted to a lot of things to distract from his dark urges, but his addiction to you might only increase them.

Pairing: dark!Bruce Wayne x reader

Series warnings: Violence, language, smut, rape/non-con, stalking, kidnapping, underage drinking, drug use, torture, abuse

CHAPTER ONE

Usually when I woke up, I rarely had any clear memories of the night before. I could remember going to the Towers, downing drink after drink, dancing under bright lights, and then waking up in my bed. There was a start and an end, but everything in between was hazy and blurred together, like a movie on fast forward.

But when I woke up this morning, I could remember every last detail of my interaction with you.

In fact, my imagination was running rampant all night because of you. Normally, what little hours of sleep I got a night were dreamless, and when I did dream, my mind was plagued with nightmares. But last night, my dreams were haunted by the sweet scent of your perfume and the feel of your soft, warm skin against mine. Sometimes, it was snippets of the conversation we had in the club, and other times, it was you laying bare on my bed beneath me, your legs spread and your skin flushed and shiny from sweat. Your hair fanned out around your head like a halo, and you stared straight up at me as breathy moans escaped from your parted, scarlet-painted lips. I guessed it had been pretty convincing, because my black, silk boxers were stained with cum when I woke up. Shame; they had been my favorite pair.

Another strange thing I noticed when I woke up: I was alone. I had collapsed onto my made bed last night with all my clothes on. I couldn’t remember the last time I had returned from the club on my own. I usually always took a girl home with me, whether I was particularly interested in her or not. Even if I had to chase her away in the morning, it beat trying to fall asleep alone only for the night terrors to come, tossing and turning as fearsome shadows terrorized my thoughts and jolting awake, dripping with sweat and my throat hoarse from screaming.

Alfred was out all day running errands so he couldn’t lecture me, and since I woke up in the afternoon, it wasn’t long before Tommy’s limousine pulled up in front of Wayne Manor. I lazily dressed in something similar to what I was wearing last night - blazer, tank, jeans, and dress shoes - and climbed into the back. I crawled past some girls I didn’t know and fell into a seat between Tommy and Grace.

“There he is!” Tommy clapped a hand on my shoulder and flashed me his bleached white teeth.

“Late as usual,” Grace hissed with a roll of her brown eyes.

“I’m surprised you were able to get out of bed at all today,” he teased me. “You were pretty messed up last night.”

“When am I not?” I laughed.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” Grace looped her arm through mine and snuggled up to my side. “I don’t think I could handle being around these idiots without you.”

I suppressed any sarcastic remarks that threatened to slip out and gave her a forced smile instead. She liked to think she was better than the rest of them but indulged in all the same bad behaviors. She rested her head on my shoulder, and I looked over at Tommy. His gaze shifted from Grace up to me, and he quirked an eyebrow. I merely shrugged my shoulder not occupied by Grace’s head in response.

The limousine started with a jerk and teared out of the long driveway leading to the manor. Pregame shots, as Tommy liked to call them, were passed around, and by the time we pulled up in front of the club, some of the girls were already tipsy. We piled out onto the sidewalk, smoke and the smell of cannabis wafting out of the limo behind us, and strutted past the long line of people waiting to get into the club. Most of them recognized me and tried to get my attention by frantically waving their hands in the air or hollering at me, but I ignored them. The bouncer gave me a firm nod and lifted the rope sealing off the entrance, allowing us to pass through.

The lights were a highly saturated magenta when we walked in. It was the same, usual environment: deafening music that made it impossible to hear one another without shouting, overwhelming heat that hit you like a wave and made it hard to breathe, the smell of perspiration and alcohol and cheap perfume mingling in the air. I could see how someone could despise it. I would have if I didn’t depend on it the way Grace depended on her mother’s Xanax prescription and Tommy depended on his bags of fine, white powder.

We made a beeline towards the booth I always had reserved for me. We sat down, Tommy’s arms slung around two of the girls tagging along with us, and not even a second later, two bartenders came over to us bearing drinks. Fruity cocktails for the girls, straight whiskey for Tommy, a vodka soda for Grace, and of course, a martini for me. Some of the girls muttered thank yous as the bartenders walked away, and I stood up, drawing the beaded curtains back so I could see out onto the dance floor. My mind couldn’t help but turn onto thoughts of you and whether or not you would heed my advice to come back.

“Hey, Bruce.” My head snapped behind me to see Tommy addressing me. “The girls want to dance.”

I looked down to see several empty glasses on the table in front of the group of girls. They were drinking fast, much to Tommy’s pleasure, I was sure. “Let’s go, then.” I gestured with a tilt of my head in the direction of the dance floor.

With my permission, the girls rose from the booth and headed towards the dance floor, Tommy in the middle of them. Grace got up and grabbed my hand, dragging me along with them. We merged with the crowd until I couldn’t tell the girls in our group apart from the regular clubbers. They all had forgettable faces, but not you. I could still remember the way the lights hit your features and every single freckle and mole dotting your skin.

Grace draped her arms around my neck and pulled her body close to mine until her breasts were pressed against my chest. She swayed her hips to the rhythm, her crotch rubbing against mine in the process, and stared up at me with half-lidded eyes. I absentmindedly rocked to the beat, my shoulders bumping into the people around me as I did so. I looked over her head at the crowd surrounding me, which was easy to do considering Grace was a good amount shorter than me even in heels.

A girl with bleached blonde hair and spray tanned skin approached me. She grabbed my arm hanging limp at my side and slung it around her shoulders. She batted her lashes clumpy with mascara at me as she moved seductively to the music. Grace noticed the girl and narrowed her eyes at her until they were mere slits. She started to grind up on me more aggressively like a dog trying to mark its territory.

I was too busy scouring the crowd for you to acknowledge their pointless feud. I wasn’t really interested in either one of them anyway. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of you and seeing you again. I tried to search the sea of inebriated clubbers for your face, but I could barely see beyond the immediate cluster of dancers around me since I was stuck in between Grace and Miss Fake Tits.

Finally, Grace got sick of her shenanigans. She grabbed the girl by her bony shoulders and gave her a firm shove. “Back off, will you?”

The girl stumbled back, and if it weren’t for the bodies behind her that she crashed into, she would’ve fallen in her platform heels. “What’s your problem?” she sneered in a high-pitched, whiny voice.

The two started to bicker back and forth, but I tuned them out. Perhaps a gentleman would’ve broken up the catfight and tried to sort things out in a calm and levelheaded manner, but I was self aware enough to know I wasn’t a gentleman. I seized the opportunity to duck out of the little cluster and put several bodies between me and them before they could realize I was gone. I let out a sigh of relief when I could no longer see their heads, but my satisfaction was short lived. I still had a girl to find.

I elbowed my way through the crowd, shimmying between gyrating clubbers and shoving past girls whooping like a clutch of hens. There were already too many faces to count, but when the lights started to strobe, it made it even harder to see if yours was among them. “(Y/N)!” I shouted over the blaring music, the vibrations shaking me to the core. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)!” The heat was starting to get to me, and the thin material of my tank clung to my back and my dark curls stuck to my forehead.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed my shoulder, and my stomach fluttered with hope that you had heard me calling your name. But then the hand whirled me around to reveal that it belonged to Tommy. “Bruce, you vanished on us again! What are you up to?”

“I’m...” I began, but my words trailed off and melted into a frustrated groan. “I’m looking for the girl I was talking to last night. I was hoping I would see her here again.”

His dilated eyes got so large I thought they would pop out of his skull. “No way! You’re still not over her? She must really be something if you still can’t get her off your mind.”

“It’s not that, it’s just...” I bit the inside of my cheek as I thought of an excuse. “Once I set my sights on a girl, I can’t let her get away. Somehow, this one slipped through my fingers.”

“Right.” He winked one bloodshot eye at me. “It has nothing to do with how bad you’ve got it for her.” Suddenly, his expression changed, and he furrowed his brows. “What did you say her name was?”

“I didn’t.” I clenched my jaw. I had been trying to keep him and Grace as far away from you as possible, but that was pretty useless now seeing that I couldn’t even find you. “Her name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

His jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Wait, are you serious? (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” he repeated.

I looked at him quizzically. “Yeah, that’s her name.”

His eyes twinkled with mischief, and a chuckle fell from his lips. “Bruce, she went to school with us!”

I raised my brows. “Really?” My eyes lit up with renewed hope. “Was she in our grade?”

“Yeah, but I can’t blame you for not remembering her. She was pretty quiet back then.” His lips curled into a smirk and he elbowed me in the side. “Who knew she would turn into such a fox, right?”

I would’ve chewed him out if I wasn’t so relieved. If Tommy knew you, that means other people had to know you too. Maybe I could start asking around to see if anyone knew where to find you. “Do you know where she lives? Anywhere she visits often?”

Tommy pursed his lips, and after a second, shook his head. “No, man, sorry. I don’t really know what she’s up to these days.”

I cursed under my breath. “Did you need something, Tommy?” I asked, the exasperation evident in my voice.

His face went blank before his eyes flickered with realization. “Oh, right. Some of the girls wanted to leave early, and I just wanted to make sure you could get a ride home.”

I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll just call my town car.”

“Are you sure? You could come with us.” He leaned in close so only I could hear. “There’s enough girls for the both of us. I don’t mind sharing.”

Suddenly, Tommy was yanked back. Two girls appeared at his side, tugging on his arms. “Come on, Tommy! What’s taking so long?” one of them said, slurring her words. I could tell by their droopy eyes and the way they wavered on their feet that they were completely wasted. No doubt they had enough alcohol in their systems to let Tommy do whatever he wanted to them.

I stared at them with disgust. “That’s all right. You guys have fun without me.”

He shrugged. “Your loss.” He snaked his arms around the two girls. “Come on, ladies. Let’s go.”

He led them towards the exit and melded in with the crowd. I got fed up with all the noise and the heat and retreated back to the booth, desperate for an escape. When I got there, the curtains were down again. I parted them with my hands to reveal Grace on the other side.

“There you are, Bruce.” She was laying sideways on the booth with her head propped up by her hand. “I was wondering where you went off to. I thought I would wait here until you came back.”

Shit. Now, part of me was regretting not leaving with Tommy when I had the chance. At least they wouldn’t notice if I snuck away. “Sorry. I stepped outside for some fresh air.”

“That’s all right.” She swung her legs over so she was sitting upright. “Why don’t you sit down?” She patted the seat next to her, her intentions written all over her face.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna go get a drink.” I started to turn away.

“I got one for you right here.” She picked up a martini off of the glass table and held it out to me.

I stared down at the green olive bobbing up and down in the clear liquid with disdain and contempt for stealing my way out. “Oh. Thanks.” I faked a smile. “That was very considerate of you.”

She smiled proudly up at me. “Anything for you, Bruce.” She patted the seat next to her again excitedly. “Sit, I insist.”

I frowned. I didn’t like being told what to do, but I hated looking like a buzzkill more. I snatched the martini out of her hands and sunk into the booth beside her. If I had to talk to her, at least I could get drunk while I was doing it. Maybe even gather some more information on you.

“Grace, can I ask you a weird question?” I began tentatively.

Her round, doe eyes widened slightly. “Yeah, of course.”

I took a sip from the glass in my hand, the sting as the gin slid down my throat followed by a warm sensation pleasing to me. “Do you remember (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

She tilted her head to the side and took her bottom lip between her teeth. “The name sounds familiar. Maybe she went to Anders Prep with us?” She squinted at me. “Why?”

My mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water for a moment before an excuse popped into my head. “Apparently she’s one of Wayne Enterprises’ newest partners. Alfred was nagging me about getting to know her earlier.” I tried to keep my tone as casual and nonchalant as possible. “Do you know anything about her? Maybe like where she lives?”

She started to shake her head, but then her already large eyes grew to the size of saucers, if that was even possible. “Wait, she was that girl you were talking to last night, wasn’t she?” Her forehead creased with worry as the question I had asked set in. “Are you looking for her?”

I blinked rapidly and stuck my tongue in my cheek. “She lost an earring last night, and I found it. I was trying to give it back to her.” The lie came surprisingly easy to me.

However, it wasn’t enough to get rid of her suspicious gaze. “I’d be happy to return it for you.”

I dismissed her with a wave of my hand. “That’s all right.” I took a long sip of my martini. “Maybe I won’t worry about it.”

The loud music blasting from the DJ booth filled the lapse in our conversation, and I avoided the skeptical looks she was giving me. “I don’t know where she lives,” she answered after a while, “but I do remember she was kind of a nerd. She kept to herself, didn’t really have any friends. I saw her eating lunch in the library by herself one time.” She stuck her nose in the air. “She was sort of weird, and I guess now she’s a sleaze.”

I clenched my jaw, and my knuckles turned white from gripping the stem of my martini glass so hard. I resisted the urge to throw the contents of my drink on her. “Good to know.” I loosened my hold before I could crush the glass with my hand. “I definitely won’t worry about it now.”

A pleasant smile came over her features. “Good.” She leaned forward until her face was inches from mine and ran her hand down my chest. “I don’t know what I would do if you left me to chase some random girl.”

Left you? We’re not even together! I caught her hand with mine at my hip before it could move any lower. “Tommy took the girls back to his place.”

She twisted her wrist in my grasp so she could interlace her fingers with mine. “Finally, now I have you all to myself.”

I gulped the rest of my martini. “Maybe we should leave too.”

She draped her leg across my lap. “Your place or mine?” She pressed her lips to my cheek.

“How about neither?” I put a hand on her shoulder in case I needed to push her away.

“Good thinking.” She slid into my lap. “Why bother going anywhere when we can do whatever we want right here?”

She crashed her lips against mine. My whole body tensed at first, but I forced myself to relax and enjoy the way her lips moved against mine. At least she would be a good distraction, maybe even make me forget all about you and what happened last night. I mean, according to you, I did it once before. Why not do it again?

My eyes fluttered closed, and I ran my tongue along her bottom lip. She parted her lips, and I slipped my tongue into her mouth, quickly gaining dominance. I could taste the vodka soda she had been drinking. She moaned and shifted so she was straddling my hips. Her hands cupped my face and pulled me closer to her. She started rolling her hips into mine, and my hands drifted down to her hips. She buried her fingers in my hair and nipped at my bottom lip.

I tried to lose myself in her and the way she was kissing me, but everything just felt so wrong. Her lips moved clumsily and sloppy against mine. The vodka on her tongue tasted bitter and sour. She tugged on my dark locks too harshly, and she dry humped me like a dog in heat. Nothing about her turned me on in the slightest, but you? You would know what to do with those plump, cherry lips of yours, and you wouldn’t even have to touch me to get me hard. Whether I liked it or not, I couldn’t get you off my mind, and I had to do something about it rather than waste my time on girls obviously inferior to you.

I separated from her and shoved her off of me. She fell back onto her elbows next to me and stared up at me. Her red, swollen lips were parted in shock, and drops of sweat ran down her face, leaving streaks through her orange-tinted foundation. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, her voice laced with venom and embarrassment.

My hands curled into fists at my side, my nails digging into my palms. “It’s not what’s wrong with me,” I seethed through gritted teeth. “It’s what’s wrong with you.”

I shot up abruptly, and her brown eyes flashed with fear. Her skin turned a few shades paler, and she scooted away from me on the booth almost like she was scared to move under my intense gaze. Seeing the frightened expression on her face was the closest she had gotten to making me excited all night.

I stormed off before I could do anything I would regret.

CHAPTER THREE

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x you #dark!bruce wayne #playboy!bruce wayne #gotham #gotham imagine #gotham fanfiction #gotham fanfic

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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Whats Nightwing and Deathstroke's dynamic? Why does it make you wince? Im not very familiar with it.

Nightwing and Slade actually have a really interesting and compelling dynamic in a lot of ways, that can be really good when written well and really terrible when not. My biggest issue is it is that its not sexual in the comics (Slade is a good thirty years older than him) or in other adaptations that have a version of it, like the Teen Titans cartoon. But fandom being fandom, Dick/Slade is a bigger ship than like, half his actual canon ships, so any new take on it always comes with a big sigh at all the new Dick/Slade shipping that’s gonna crop up or have a resurgence cuz of it. And I’m annoyed enough with YJ right now that I’m not giving them the benefit of the doubt that they’ll do anything new or interesting with it that’s worth having to wade through pages of new Dick/Slade noncon in the months afterwards. Its a ship that generates a lot of non-con fic in particular, or at least my old favorite, ‘dubcon’, with the dubious part of the consent referring to the fact that it usually involves mind control or brainwashing, both tropes that show up a lot in their interactions anyway. (Not that there’s anything dubious about this NOT allowing for consensual anything, just that people love to call it dubcon because….fuck if I know).

But anyway….in the comics, Deathstroke is a mercenary who’s one of the Titans’ earliest and most iconic enemies. Though at various times and depending on who’s writing him, he’s sometimes an antihero and even a semi-trusted ally of the Titans (usually with Dick specifically), other times a villain but with his own personal code of honor that means he won’t help the Titans or other heroes but he’ll refuse to take jobs that would pit him against them, and other times he’s full on remorseless and sadistic villain who hates them all and wants them all dead.

He also had three kids, his son Grant (the first Ravager), his younger son Joseph (Jericho) and his youngest, their half-sister Rose (the second Ravager). Basically, the first time he interacted with the Titans was when the supervillain group HIVE put out a contract to have the Titans all killed. Slade turned them down cuz of his personal honor code and how young the Titans were, but his son Grant accepted the contract in exchange for HIVE giving him superpowers to help him fulfill it. The process didn’t work right though, and when fighting the Titans, Grant’s powers overloaded and killed him.

Slade blamed the Titans for this, and vowed to finish the contract and kill them as some twisted way of honoring Grant. He doesn’t do Logic so good, well no, its more like he doesn’t really do parenting so good, as in he tends to have fuck all to do with his kids 364 days of the year, but then something bad happens to one of them and suddenly he thinks he’s Dad of the Year and going 0 to Homicidal in six seconds flat is the way to make up for all the times he’s let them down or screwed them over, instead of just…not Doing That.

So Slade recruited a young meta named Tara Markov (yup, that one) and trained her as his apprentice specifically to help him get revenge on the Titans. At his prompting, she joined the Titans as a spy for him, feeding him intel and plotting against them in one of the best known comicbook storylines of all time, The Judas Contract. It was up there with some of the X-Men’s best known stories like the Dark Phoenix Saga and Days of Future Past. (In the 80s actually, the Titans comic book was almost as popular as Uncanny X-Men at the time. Like way more than the Justice League. They were DC’s big hitters, popularity wise - specifically the lineup that for the most part was centered around Dick, Donna, Starfire, Beast Boy, Cyborg and Raven, with other members like the original Titans and later ones like Pantha and Wildebeest coming and going at various points in the 80s too).

Ultimately, Tara made her move and betrayed the Titans, enabling Slade to kidnap each of them one by one and turn them over to the HIVE….all except for Dick. In the meanwhile, he was approached by Slade’s ex-wife Adeline Kane - who has an equally all over the place dynamic with Slade, like sometimes she’s his worst enemy and other times she’s manipulating events behind the scenes to help him without him knowing, because she still loves him…it basically just depends on who’s writing her, same as with Slade. Also, Kane is Adeline’s maiden name, she’s distantly related to Kate Kane aka Batwoman in some extremely complicated manner I can never remember, but that’s mostly just trivia. I can’t remember a time its ever been relevant to a story, and it has nothing to do with Slade’s interactions with Dick.

ANYWAY. Point being, so Adeline, who blames and hates Slade at this time for their son Grant’s death, along with their other son Joey, seek out Dick and offer their help rescuing the Titans and defeating Slade. Joey is a metahuman as a result of Slade’s altered DNA (he has regenerative powers and is actually immortal, due to experiments the army did on him while he was a soldier). So Joey was born with powers although they didn’t activate until he was a young adult. His codename was Jericho and his power lets him possess peoples’ bodies. He’s also mute, and I’m half expecting him to show up in YJ fairly soon. If not this season then hinted at by the end of it. Also wouldn’t surprise me if they had plans to have him be gay in the YJ universe. He’s a character who was coded as gay practically from his debut. Joey/Dick is actually probably Dick’s oldest and most enduring slash ship, for the record.

So Joey works with Dick to rescue the Titans and defeat Slade, who’s captured and goes on trial for kidnapping the Titans. Joey ends up joining the Titans in the aftermath, and Adeline’s yay good, this was my Sekrit Plan all along, I did all this solely in the hopes that you would end up a superhero and have positive influences and not end up a murdering douchebag of flexible morality like your dad cuz fuck that guy, am I right Titans?

Did Adeline really just do all of that because she wanted her son to have more friends? Like…idk honestly it could go either way. Like….it IS the kind of thing she would do, tbh, so its as likely she was telling the truth as it is she just wanted to screw Slade one last time to avenge Grant and then was like hey if I take credit for my kid ending up a Titan now, I could probably play the “you owe me one” card later if I ever need to. Addy does like handing out “you owe me one” cards, just to be safe. Never know when you might need one.

The thing all this has to do with Dick is like, so it basically ended up being Dick versus Slade in the big finale, while Joey was rescuing the others and helping them face off against Tara. And for whatever reason - with multiple takes on this offered by multiple writers in the decades since - something about Dick just stuck with Slade and he’s had a kinda fascination with him ever since. Like he’s always talking about how much more he could teach Dick than what he already learned from Bruce, trying to convince him he’s got a killer instinct that Bruce just suppressed and its holding him back, blah blah, like saying he’s good, but Slade could make him great, so he surpasses both Bruce and Slade. TBH, he spends WAY more time obsessing about Dick and getting Dick to join him than he bothers paying attention to his own kids.

It really isn’t inherently sexual though, its a weird kinda pseudo father/son, pseudo mentor/mentee type thing. And its not entirely one-sided, because Dick at various times IS…tempted? Kinda? Like whenever Dick’s having some kind of crisis of conscience, or he’s pissed at Bruce or is questioning the effectiveness of superheroes or why they do the things they do or what does it all matter blah blah blah like omg I love you Dick, I really do, but sometimes you are such a drama queen, my god, blast some My Chemical Romance, experiment with drugs and chill out already, its not that deep. (LOL I kid. Well mostly). But point being, every once in awhile something happens that puts Dick in a funk and makes him second guess himself, and he spends like….a month being convinced he should reinvent himself as the anti-Bruce, that’s the solution, and this usually sends him in search of Slade except he’s always like ‘OH FANCY MEETING YOU HERE, THIS IS TOTALLY RANDOM AND NOT ON PURPOSE’.

And Slade likes to take any opportunity to try and convince him like BE A BAD GUY DICK, KILL PEOPLE FOR MONEY, ALL THE COOL KIDS ARE DOING IT. Except inevitably Slade does something that pisses Dick off and Dick snaps out of it and is like NO, IM A HERO AND THIS IS BAD, I REMEMBER NOW AND I’LL NEVER JOIN YOU, YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD I HATE YOU! And then they fight again, but with swords, not words, and then they’re like crap, we’re too well matched, this is going nowhere, you’re a worthy opponent, the only one I can truly respect, blah blah and then they call a breather and Slade’s like hey kid, wanna grab a beer and Dick’s like yeah but only if you promise not to kill anyone. And Slade’s like ugh fine.

And then Slade’s all, look kid, its been fun but its time you went home to your real family and your real life, this isn’t you, you’re a hero, I can’t try and turn you into something you’re not, its Wrong. And Dick’s like….umm yeah, I know, I literally JUST said that, how hard did I hit you? And Slade’s like NO SHHH, DONT TRY AND ARGUE, GO, YOU GO NOW, GO ON, LIVE YOUR LIFE, YOU DONT BELONG HERE IN THE DARK WITH ME, YOU’RE ONE OF THE GOOD ONES, GO BACK TO YOUR OWN KIND.

And Dick’s like no seriously dude, I already called my dad to come pick me up, what are you even on right now, are we having the same conversation?

Slade, sobbing paternally: I HAVE TO LET YOU GO, ALL I EVER DO IS HURT MY KIDS, I’M A TERRIBLE FATHER, ITS NO WONDER JOEY HATES ME.

And then Dick awkwardly slips out while Slade’s mid monologue, with his head thrown back yelling up at the sky and shaking his fists like WHY GOD WHY IS THIS THE WORLD WE LIVE IN WHY - because the thing about Slade is he’s actually even MORE of a drama queen than Dick, he just hides it better. Most of the time. But seriously tho.

Anyway yeah, this is like…a pattern with them basically. And Slade’s like, you’ve inspired me, I see in you the man I could’ve become, maybe even that I can still be, and he like doubles down on his personal honor code and becomes a Mercenary With A Heart for a couple years and even helps out the Titans every now and then (basically just whenever Dick’s in trouble and he goes on a killing spree, like NOBODY IS ALLOWED TO MURDER MY KIDS BUT ME - also by this point in time, Joey had died because Slade literally killed him, I forget why, it was a dumb story, but its okay Joey came back, its not like his name is Uncle Ben. But yeah, killing his kids is kinda a thing with Slade too, and he’s very proprietary about it).

And then he falls off the wagon and is like fuck, I forgot how much I like murder, ugh, you should have never tried to make me change, THIS IS WHO I AM, and Dick’s just like….I literally do not know where you’re getting these conversations from, like am I there when you think we’re having them, am I just blacking out…do I need to see a doctor??? And Slade’s like YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU EVER MET ME, GRAYSON, FROM NOW ON I AM THE TITANS’ MORTAL ENEMY and runs off all dramatically while Dick’s like…..wut, and all the other Titans are like srsly, dude, what is WITH you too, and Dick’s all I DON’T EVEN KNOW, HE’S JUST LIKE THAT.

In all seriousness though, ultimately my take on their dynamic is that for Slade, Dick’s a combination of seeing himself and Grant in Bruce and Dick’s dynamic, and its like….all about his regret and missed opportunities. Like, he tends to be super judgey of Bruce and critical of how he trains (and raises Dick) and passive aggressively like *I* would never do that and Dick just kinda lifts an eyebrow and is all, you’ve literally killed two of your three kids.

But like, Slade kinda views himself as the anti-Batman and thus Dick is inadvertently cast as Grant, but its like Slade can never decide if he thinks Bruce is actually holding Dick back from his full potential and he wants to push Dick the way he thinks Bruce refuses to, or if like, he blames Bruce for getting Dick involved in this life, the same life that got Grant killed, and wants to protect Dick from Bruce and from the same thing happening to him. So its this weird mix of Slade manipulating Dick sometimes and pushing him way further than even Bruce ever does and saying its for his own good, but also randomly mixed in there are these bouts of extreme protectiveness, and there’s like zero rhyme or reason to which he is on any given day and there’s never any way to predict where Slade will land and so it always fucks with Dick’s head in a big way, he’s like…I’m getting whiplash.

And then on Dick’s end, like, the thing about Dick like I’ve mentioned before is he’s a huge people pleaser? Like he’s a very empathetic caretaker type personality who sinks a huge amount of his identity into being everything for everyone, to the extent that he tends to lose sight of himself in the process, sometimes. And he’s also a perfectionist who was raised with the most demanding father of all demanding fathers ever, and has a lot of abandonment issues and insecurities that Bruce’s mutant power is to trip over and set off in the worst possible ways.

And so I think the reason Dick keeps seeking Slade out every now and then is not because he ACTUALLY wants to ever take Slade up on his offer and genuinely become his apprentice or partner and like, turn his back on how he was raised. I think the point of it for Dick is the fact that each and every time he ends up affirming for himself no, wait, this ISN’T actually what I want, I just needed to be reminded of that, to remember that. That he always pulls himself back before going too far. And at the same time, I do think on some level he likes that Slade is this kinda constant in his life, that at the end of the day Slade is like…so fixated on his potential and his achievements and his worth as a fighter and a hero, because like….Dick Grayson is a person who craves validation but will never ask for it ever.

And he’s one of those people who everyone is just so USED to liking without even thinking about it that it never occurs to them when talking amongst themselves about how great he is, that they forget to say this to his actual face? And so he never hears it? And never asks for it, because gasp, then people might think he’s needy, and that would be bad, so he mostly just goes and sulks in his apartment about how nobody likes him and he’s terribad. Except for Slade. Slade always compliments him on what a good fighter and what a good planner and what a good leader he is, so hmm wonder what he’s doing. He hasn’t committed any crimes in six months and I can’t find any reason to track him down and bring him in? Ugh, that asshole. Okay, ummm, I guess I could tell him I’m thinking of turning evil again, I haven’t done that in a couple years, he’d probably buy it.

And then later Bruce is pacing around the Batcave wrathfully shaking his fist, like “Damn that man and his sick hold over my son, if only I knew how he keeps getting his hooks into you!”

And Dick basically shrugs and plays games on his phone. “He mostly just tells me I’m special, and that’s nice to hear.”

Bruce, still pacing and ranting and fist shaking: “What kind of evil genius is he, how master a manipulator he must be to be able to get inside your head and upend your normal views of right and wrong, to make you entertain these ideas of working with him, learning from him…”

Dick: No its seriously just the saying nice things about me bit. I like that.

Bruce: If only I had a code word or phrase I could use to snap you out of whatever brainwashing he seems to be able to affect you with any time you come near him, perhaps some kind of alien tech….

Dick: You could try “I’m proud of you, son.” I mean if you’re taking suggestions.

Bruce: There’s also the possibility of a magical component to consider, blast, I hate working with magic so of course he WOULD do something like that, ugh I suppose I could ask Zatanna or Jason Blood for help there…

Dick: Cool cool, well this has been a fun and productive chat as always, so you keep doing…all that…and meanwhile I’m gonna go ponder my fixation on father figures who are 100% more committed to obsessing over their failures as a parent than like…actual parenting of their actual kids.

Bruce, ten minutes later: Dick? Where are you? DID SLADE GET TO YOU AGAIN? RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE? CURSE THAT MAN AND HIS UNNATURAL SKILLS, HOW DOES HE DO IT??!?

Anyway, that’s Slade and Dick. There’s also the whole Renegade thing, when Dick asked for Slade’s help in infiltrating the Society of Super Villains in his fake villain identity as Renegade, with you know, lots of Slade trying to corrupt him and also trying to murder any supervillains who looked as his not!son the wrong way.

And then there was the time Slade brought his daughter Rose to Dick to train and said he couldn’t teach her himself because his track record with training his kids and them not ending up dead is like, not good, and he’s superstitious or something? Idk, I forget his logic, it was probably bad though.

And Slade was like, I only trust you to be a competent teacher for my daughter, I want you to teach her everything you know! Except for like, being a hero. None of that nonsense. I FORBID you from trying to make my daughter into a hero or the deal is off. (The deal being that if Dick did this, Slade would not do crime in Dick’s city for a year).

And Dick was like, you got a deal. I will train Rose but there will be NO trying to make her a hero, I swear. /he said while crossing his fingers behind his back because duh.

And Slade was like okay, fine, you got a deal, I will absolutely still do crime and be villainous but only in every place except for Bludhaven specifically. /he said while crossing his fingers behind his back because duh.

And then Dick tried to make Rose a hero and then Slade blew up Bludhaven and that was definitely a thing, so…yeah.

In summation, Slade and Dick are weird but also very interesting but also if we get another rehash of the Renegade/apprentice arc aka the Teen Titans cartoon adaptation of that story aka the single most popular Dick Grayson fic trope of all time, like….I swear I will probably get a brain bleed.

#Anonymous

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