#Actually this scenario would create a good opportunity for Bruce to reflect on how he was treated by his family

[wesavegotham]

Obviously I have no idea where Tom Taylor will be going with his Dark Knights of Steel elseworld, but the first book pushes the idea that Bruce, despite being a bastard (he's the illegitimate son of late Queen Martha and Jor-El in this) should inherit the throne one day since he's the only one related to the original monarchs of the kingdom, and I can't help but imagine Bruce sitting one the throne one day and he swears to himself to only sire "trueborn children" so no biologically related child of his would ever suffer from growing up as a bastard like he did...and then Damian is introduced to him.

[stxphxn-strange]

what? a beautiful wedding? pt 2. 

a/n: the college au wedding fic shenanigans continue! read pt 1 here

“On what?” Stephen asked. “Christine why do you seem nervous?” 

“Let’s go in, you should have a drink and get comfortable. We can talk more inside,” Anthony suggested. 

Christine led the way, the bright name and number on the back of her hoodie (which was actually Hope’s) as much of a guide as Christine herself. 

“What’s the status of Rhodey and T’challa?” Stephen asked, taking Anthony’s hand. 

“Their pining is infuriating me,” Anthony replied. “Lots of flirting on the drive over.” 

Stephen hummed. “If they aren’t together by the end of the night, is it so wrong to help them out a little? Give them a push in the right direction? I’ll even push them into our bathroom if they need a quiet space to sort their shit out.” 

“Noted,” Anthony said with a smirk. “I don’t know what they’re waiting for.” 

“They’re both too independent and proud, sort of like another couple I know,” Christine quipped. Evidently she’d been listening to their conversation from where she walked in front of them. 

Stephen smirked at his friend. “In due time, Christine.” 

Anthony looked from Stephen to Christine, trying to read their suddenly guarded expressions. He had a suspicion that they were discussing a proposal, as all of their friends were on the edge of their seats waiting for the couple to get engaged. Anthony smiled, briefly reflecting on his own proposal plan that Pepper and Rhodey were helping him with. Speaking of which—

“How is Pepper?” He asked urgently. 

“I think she went to take a nap,” Christine replied. “I gave her my room key and told her to lay down, I didn’t know what else to do.” 

Another wave of guilt consumed Anthony. “This is—”

“I won’t have you drowning in self doubt on the day of my wedding,” Christine interrupted. “All you’re trying to do is care for your friend, that’s all any of us are trying to do. Stephen, please make sure your boyfriend understands that.” 

Stephen nodded, wrapping his arms around Anthony immediately. 

“You guys are so affectionate and cute,” Christine said. “I’m really glad you’re here. I’m happy everyone is here.” 

“How do you feel?” Stephen asked. 

“I’m still nervous, but it’s more of an excited kind of nervous,” Christine replied. “I love Hope so much, and I really can’t wait for all of this hype to be over so I can just say she’s my wife.” 

“You know that the hype is going to last probably into tomorrow, right? Especially with our friends being the way that we are,” Stephen teased. He looked past Christine at the Odinson siblings, who were filling a confetti cannon… in the middle of the lobby. 

Stephen quickly snapped a photo and sent it to the groupchat. 

Hope wrote back immediately: “I didn’t just see a t-shirt or confetti cannon, did I? … Fuck it, if you need more confetti I know where to find it.” 

The Odinsons dashed off towards the elevators, confetti cannon in tow. Anthony watched them leave, a small smile on his face at the chaos unfolding around him. 

“Today is going to be good,” he said, to no one in particular. 

“I really can’t wait,” Christine added. “I had some time to kill when you guys got here, but I should probably finish getting ready, y’know. Go make someone sick with your cuteness, and I’ll see you later okay?” 

Before they could answer, Christine hopped up and hugged her friends before running off. 

“What do you think is going to happen tonight?” Stephen asked, taking a sip of his seltzer. 

“One of us is going to get too giddy and serenade his boyfriend during the reception,” Anthony replied, winking at Stephen. 

“That was a one (1) time thing, baby. I don’t sing,” Stephen said. 

Anthony held up his phone. “This video from my sister’s wedding shows otherwise, my love! And if you don’t sing, I might. I’m in that kind of mood.” 

“Pep’s calling,” Stephen said. “That karaoke video stays between us, Anthony.” 

Anthony picked up the phone. “Hey Miss Potts, I was actually just about to call and see how you are.” 

“Christine noticed that I was hungover when I showed up, so she gave me her room key and told me to take a nap. Now I’m awake and I can’t stop thinking about her and how caring and sweet she is, and I just want to be with her,” Pepper lamented. “Have you seen her?” 

“We were just with her, but Pepper wait a minute. Are you still in her room?” Stephen asked nervously. He began to chew on the inside of his lip as a mildly disastrous scenario unfolded in his mind. 

“Yeah, where are you guys? I feel like I just shouldn’t be sitting in here,” Pepper said. “I have this letter that I wrote, I was thinking I’d just leave it somewhere so she’d at least know how I feel. Is that a bad idea?” 

Stephen quickly pulled Anthony close to his side, kissing him softly before whispering: “I have a bad feeling about this. We have to stall Christine.” 

Anthony nodded. “Create some kind of distraction.” 

A loud noise, almost akin to a roll of thunder, filled the space before Stephen could finish sending a text. Even still, he seized the opportunity to ask the group about what it was, hoping that a game of detective would give Pepper more time to collect herself. 

On FaceTime, Pepper jumped at the noise. “What should I do, guys? I want to be a good friend, I really do, but I want to be more than that all at the same time.” 

“How do you think she’s going to respond?” Anthony asked. He had no idea how such a confession would go and was genuinely curious about Pepper’s expectations. 

From somewhere behind Pepper, the door opened and Christine walked into her room. 

“Hey, how do you feel?” She asked. 

Pepper shrugged. “A little better, my headache went away.” 

“Okay good. I just came to get my dress, are you ready to head to the garden?” Christine asked. 

Pepper nodded, sadness drifting onto her face. 

“Oh shit wait, are you on the phone?” Christine asked. 

“It’s just us,” Stephen replied. “Hi again, sorry about the confetti cannon.” 

“Carol and Val are helping Bruce wrangle the Odinsons, I think they’re watching a movie or something,” Christine said. 

She left the room and Pepper turned her attention back to her friends. Another door squeaked as it closed, and Pepper seized her moment to say: “What am I going to do? It’s not like I can just say ‘Christine I know you’re my best friend but I love you as more than a friend’ you know? Not on the day she’s supposed to get married!” 

“Wait, you do?” Christine was almost whispering, holding her wedding dress in a garment bag. “Is that true?”

[notyetneedcoffee]

Soul Seer, Pt. 3

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: None this Chapter, but later

Author’s Note: Takes place right after Avengers 1, with time travel elements and hints of Infinity Wars. Does NOT follow cannon after Avengers.

* * *

Banner and Stark popped up from behind the server banks like a pair of meerkats when the door opened. Steve Rogers entered the room, a stern expression already locked on his face. Stark leaned casually on the wall, cleaning his immaculate nails with the screwdriver in his hand. “Hey Cap, you come to let us know that it’s dinner time, ‘cause you didn’t need to bother. My stomach is getting louder than when big green wants to redecorate.”

“No.” Steve fought to not roll his eyes. “Tell me you’re not doing what I’ve been told you’re doing.”

“Okay.” Tony shrugged. “We’re not.”

“Tony.”

“What?”

“Are you hijacking the SHIELD surveillance on Loki?” Steve frowned.

“Hacking.” Stark corrected. “It’s hacking. And it’s not about Loki, it’s about (Y/N). Having Reindeer Games rattling around in her head has got to be tough enough, I’m not going to hand her over to SHIELD on a silver platter, too.”

“What do you mean?” Steve took in the concerned look on both their faces.

“Now that they know she has this ability, and that she’s got all that knowledge from Loki in her mind,” Banner interjected. “You don’t think SHIELD would use any means necessary to assure her participation.”

“Like, say using footage of her crying and breaking down – a totally normal reaction when you’ve had a GOD shoved in your brain – to prove that you’re unstable and should be committed against your will.” Tony spat.

“You know it’s not beyond them.” Bruce sighed.

“So, you’re just going to turn the camera’s off?” Cap crossed his arms. Not liking the idea, but understanding the dilemma.  

“We’re going to fake it.” Stark shrugged. “Jarvis has been recording them for the last several hours. He’s created innocuous scenarios of them in discussions, reading, so on, to replace anything that needs to be replaced.”

“Currently, we have created a time delay of three minutes by stretching out the records by a few seconds at a time. That way we can still monitor what’s going on, but what goes on to the SHIELD monitors is controlled.” Bruce finished.

“And you’re confident this will work.” Steve asked, leaning against the desk. “They won’t be able to tell?”

“They’d have to beat Jarvis’ programming and they can’t.” Stark confirmed. “So, you going to rat on us, Cap?”

“No.” He sighed. “I’ll take a turn monitoring. This needs to stay as quite as possible. How are you going to let (Y/N) know?”

“That’s where Thor comes in.”

* * * * * 

Loki sat across the room, sipping on a cup of tea and holding yet another book. He spent more time watching your sleeping form out of the corner of his eye than reading, but those who watched would never know. Even though he placed you in the Dreamless Sleep, the urge to guard over you possessed him.

It took conscious effort to maintain the mask of passive indifference. How was he to mitigate the risk of someone, a mortal no less, knowing his inner most thoughts and memories? He looked at you, internally smirking at the irony that the very reason he felt the urge to protect you was the same reason he would normally kill you.  

A Midgardian mortal.  The Norns must be laughing their asses off.

Still, Loki admitted to himself, your ability to adapt impressed him. Your grasp of the situation, and the danger, impressed him as well. When you asked to be put back to sleep, he knew it was not physical fatigue you sought to remedy. Your walls were crumbling.  

The door opened. Loki did not hide the deep frown.

Thor’s bulk filled the doorway. He approached his brother cautiously, noting your sleeping figure on the bed, as he held out a book. “Brother. I’ve brought you something from home.”

“Your home, not mine.” Loki sneered, yet he snatched the book out of his hand.  

“I have spoken with Father about the information you shared here.” Thor sat across from Loki.  

“And?” Loki outwardly looked disinterested, but he knew the information would greatly impact his fate. Thor did not immediately answer. When Loki flipped open the book to avoid looking at his brother, he understood why. A new inscription had been written on the inside of his favorite tome.  

Written in Thor’s sloppy Vanir. “The iron one has diverted the eyes of the shield so the little one may cry without fear. Your secrets and hers will remain safe from now till two days hence.”

Loki looked up. “What does Odin say?”

“He was,” Thor sighed, “unmoved. However, Mother convinced him to reflect for a night before making any decision.”  

“She wishes to make her opinion known.”

“Mother is...” Thor shrugged.

“A force.” Loki grinned.  

Thor returned his grin, but it fell away quickly. “I will return as soon as I have news from Odin. We have convinced the powers here not to make a decision until we have a declaration from Asgard. It could be a few days. In the meantime, stay well, brother.”

Loki nodded. “Thank you for the book.”

As soon as the door closed he moved silently to it. Tracing the frame with a touch of his magic to seal the room from any sound escaping, he stood back and waited for someone to rush in. Nothing happened. Magically he rid himself of the clothes he wore, replacing them with soft silk pants and a tunic. Again, no one rushed in. He moved to you, waving a hand over your body clothing you in much the same way. He waited. No one intruded.  

Stark was true to his word.  

Loki sat beside you, smoothing back your hair and waking your from the Dreamless Sleep. Your eyes opened slowly. The feeling of rich silk on your skin made you smile. Then you realized it was not how you fell asleep.

“Did you change my clothes?” You asked quietly, a little shocked.

Loki smiled. “Yes, pet. With magic. I assure you, nothing inappropriate took place.”

“Magic?” You sat up. “And I missed it?”

“You will have plenty opportunity.” Loki’s long delicate fingers cupped your face. “Stark has managed to blind SHIELD from seeing us for a short time. Your words appeared to have an impact.”

“Oh.” You breathed, just staring at his strong angular features. The wick sharp eyes looked back, turning soft and sorrowful. “Oh. So we’re...” Your chest felt tight. The tension behind your eyes made them burn. “We’re actually alone.”

“I have cast a silence spell on the room.” Loki stroked your cheek. “Even the men posted outside would not hear the loudest scream.”

“What if I can’t stop?” You whispered, feeling as if a storm surge continued to grow over you like a tidal wave from a disaster movie.  

“I will be here.” Loki pressed his lips to the skin of your temple.  

It began with silent tears, a trickle of wetness trailing down your cheeks. Soon your lungs would not expand to allow you to breathe. Panic sunk its talons into your chest. Fire burned in your throat. Too many pains, too many aches, tried to claw from your heart at once.  

Loki held you to his chest, whispering quiet assurances to you. “Breathe, my pet. Let it come. You are strong. It will not break you.”

Pain, fear, anger, betrayal boiled up and ate at your throat like acid. Your fingers wound in Loki’s strong grip. “Fuck!”

A sad, rueful chuckle escaped his chest. “Most apt.”

“How? Fuck, Loki! How do you live with this?” You cried. It wouldn’t stop. Wave after wave crashed into you, stealing your breath and wracking your body. Time lost meaning.  

Somehow the room turned dark and you found yourself laying on the bed, curled against Loki’s chest. You held a damp linen handkerchief. The horrid, overwhelming emotions settled. It left you exhausted, raw. Tears still escaped from your tired eyes.  

You tipped your head up, seeing Loki’s face calm and passive. Except his eyes held the evidence his own tears. Dropping your head back to his chest, too tired to wonder how you ended up in the position or to question why it felt so comfortable, you buried your face against his chest.  He wrapped himself tighter around you.

“Why?” Your voice was hoarse. “Why do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Hold on to it all.” Taking a deep breath, it shuddered upon release. “For so long.”

Loki lay silently for a long time. You could imagine he was arguing with himself about whether or not you deserved an answer. So, you decided make the argument for him.

“Loki,” You began slowly. “I know you would never, ever, entertain the idea discussing such a thing with anyone, especially a mortal.” You felt him tense slightly. “But for whatever reason, I was able to help you. It came with a cost, though. I’ve been in your head, and survived. Now, knowing what I know of you, it puts us in a difficult situation.” You took a deep breath. “You can either trust me and have someone, for the first time ever, that really understands. Or you can doubt me and kill me for what I know.”

He lifted your face, to stare into your eyes. Something unidentifiable burned there. The feelings radiating off him were deep and too complex to pin down. Finally, Loki pressed his lips to your forehead and spoke, his voice thick and deep. “I vow that you shall not die by my hand, though what you ask is not something I can answer yet.”

“Fair enough.” You sighed, relaxing back against him. “What time is it?”

“Your breakdown lasted approximately four hours.”  

The absurdity of the way he answered made you giggle.  

“Are you alright?”  

“Yes.” You wiped the last of your tears away. The giggle felt good. “I need to laugh.”

“You need to sleep.” Loki tried to hold you against him.

“No. Tell me a story, something funny, something embarrassing about Thor.”

He sighed, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “Very well. When we were young, Thor took a liking to this particular daughter of one of our father’s generals...”

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, but Loki brought tears of laughter to your eyes and recited tales told to him by Frigga until you drifted to sleep.  

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