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igotanidea · 1 year

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Tired (cheshire verse) : Jason Todd x fem!reader

Still, a part of Cheshire!verse. Other parts are: Cheshire cat, That damn gala and Five years later (previous to Tired)

This story took a bit of a turn because of @miraculous-panic. You wanted to know what happened between Dick and reader, so there you go. that was not planned so thanks :D

So, long story short, my dead almost-boyfriend turned out to be not-so-dead real-time boyfriend

Crazy, right?

Happy ending for everyone, rose petals, doves and all that shit used at the end of any cliché rom-com.

Well.

It was not so simple.

Ever since Jason came back from the grave (which apparently was five years ago, he just simply forgot to leave a memo on that) he’s been acting…. Different. More violent, more aggressive, more impulsive I daresay. He completely let go of the old “no killing rule” and just went full on, dealing with the criminals in his own way.

Sure, neither Bruce nor Dick nor any other member of the batfamily approved of that and that was the reason he was cast out. Not that he cared. About them. It was teeny-tiny different with me. And after some time it actually started to get problematic.

I mean, how can you be the so-called hero and date an anti-hero? How can you (yes, I mean myself) work with the bats (fuck, Batman himself) and be ok with your boyfriend getting all bloody with the literal blood of people. (even if they’re the bad ones)? How can you deal with the fact that the same arms that gets to hold you every night some nights and hands that write love letters on your skin are also used to point a gun to someone’s head.

You can’t. Not in the long run.

So, given that, I tried to fight for him. I knew he was dealing with the anger issues, that the Lazarus Pit left him changed, but I refused to let it consume him. I was really doing everything. Never pushing him, just being there, showing him different ways, throwing hints to help him get back to the old ways. He never listened. Not that I blamed him after everything he’s been through.

Most of the times, I dealt with it by myself, but from time to time I just wasn’t able to process all those contradictions in me. I was becoming a fucking hypocrite, losing myself in all this mess of vigilantism and relationship. Those were the times when I stayed at the manor with Dick, Tim and Damian, letting them help me with thoughts. Usually by distracting me. Dick would do his most crazy acrobatics in a show-off manner only to make me smile, Tim would talk about the random facts he found on the internet and Damian… well, Damian would just sit next to me, not saying a single thing, giving me space but just his presence was enough. Yeah, me and Damian had a very deep bond even though no one would guess it.

It was that one patrol with boys that got me spinning. We were doing our rounds in one part of Gotham, Bruce leading the operation, while Red Hood was riding solo on the other. It was like a race against time since we had to save some people taken hostage and exposed to some sort of enhanced neurotoxin (suck on that, Crane with your fear gas) which would soon turn them into a freaking zombie. Luckily, we were fast enough getting to the secret lab in time to turn the tables around and once again safe the day. Yay! Hurray! Bats to the rescue. But, it wasn’t really like that.

“Y/N?” Dick noticed me standing in the corner of the room, eyes fixed on one point in space, absentmindedly running my fingers against the counter full of some crazy medical accessories “Hey, are you all right?” his voice became concerned when he realized what might be going through my head.

“No.” I shook my head “No. I don’t think I am, Dick…..”

“You’re thinking ‘bout him, right? About Jason?”

“Yes… I….” I took a deep breath “I don’t know what I’m doing Dick. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I save people, but at the same time let them die, not stopping him. I stick to the moral code that Jay break every night. ….. I….. I……” I felt like I was suffocating

“Hey, hey. Breathe.” Dick reached an arm towards me and squeezed my hand gently “you’re spinning”

“How…. How can I not? the second I think about everything he’s been through all the rules and codes are becoming blurry. Fuck, I love him Dick…..”

“I know. And right now, I need you to calm down, ok?”

“I’m trying to, but……”

“Grayson. Y/L/N.” oh, thank God for Damian. His cold and collected self was like a heaven send. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at my shaking figure but did not say a word. He knew. “You’re staying at the manor tonight, Y/N.” this was not a question. Damian Al’ghul Wayne was way above asking.

“You know you are a tyrant, right Damian?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, Y/N.” where the hell did Tim came from “you know you shouldn’t be alone in a state like this. Remember what happened last time?”

“I’m sorry what exactly happened last time?” Dick was suddenly far more stern than before

“NOTHING! NOTHING! Don’t you dare saying a word, Tim!”

“We’re gonna find it one way or another” Damian smirked and Dick scoffed.

“SHUT UP! Just shut up all of you! I’ll stay!” I cried out “you know I’ll stay…..” the second part was said in a softer manner “really, thank you for putting up with me.”

“Hey, anytime, sunshine” Dick smiled putting arm around me and leading me out to the exit.

***

Two hours later, I still could not sleep. Too many thoughts has been running thorough my minds. So, instead of laying I was in the kitchen, crouched on the barstool, elbows leaning against the counter and with the cup of chamomile tea in hands. I hated chamomile, but Alfred always said it helped you relax, so why not try?

“Why are you up?”

“Shit! Dick! I almost burned myself! We’re in the house you don’t need to sneak up on me!”

“Sorry” he flashed a smile “force of habit. Why aren’t you in bed? You look tired.”

“I am.” I sighed deeply “ my crazy brain however does not seem to be.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about? I’m trapped into one of the most cliché scheme. A hero falling for a villain.”

“Hm. I don’t know. Do you think you are a hero?” he laughed

“Dick….”

“Sorry, Y/N. Though I would make you smile.”

“Not this time, Boy wonder. Not really in the mood.”

“Sorry. But if you don’t want to talk, how about a hug from your favorite bat?”

“Do you think you are my favorite bat?” I raised an eyebrow

“I don’t think. I know. Now come here. “ he extended his arms and I was more than eager to dive in his embrace “does it make you feel better.”

“I don’t know. It definitely reminds me of our childhood times. Those when I was still learning the vigilante shit and you were always there to protect me.” I muttered

“And I always will.” He assured “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Do you have someone specific in mind?” I couldn’t look him in the eyes, fearing the answer

“No. No one specific. Just anyone who would dare so.”

“Hate to break it to you, Dick, but I’m old enough to stand up for myself….”

“But….?”

“But it feels nice to have you.”

“You’re like my little sister, Y/N.” he ruffled my hair and I scoffed but smiled lightly

“Are you two comfortable?” a grumpy voice of another person who was apparently sleepless disturbed the moment of silence between me and Dick.

“How the hell did you get in?!” in a matter of second Damian was standing in the kitchen, followed closely by Tim, both of them with their stern face expression.

“Hello, Jason” Dick smiled

“I said….” Damian repeated only to be ignored once again.

“What the fuck are you doing with my girlfriend, Grayson?!”

“Oh, that is just great” I hissed and rolled my eyes. The last thing I needed was possessive Jason, still in his Red Hood suit facing his brothers

“I think you should leave, Jason” Tim tried to take precautions to avoid bloodbath between his older brothers

“And why would I do that, huh?”

“Um. Cause you are not welcomed here?”

“Damian!” I hissed. That was harsh, even for him.

“I think we should all just calm down and …..”

“Cut it, replacement! Why is she here? Are you keeping her captive or something?”

“Now you’re just being paranoid, Jason.”

“Paranoid, sure. I finished ….. “ he shook his head not really wanting to finish this sentence “and came straight to her. Do you even realize how I freaked out when you weren’t there?” his pained gaze landed on me “and then it clicked. You must be at the manor. So I came, and I saw you with Dick and …..”

“Ugh….” Damian hissed

“you know I was trying to make her feel better after she broke on the patrol! Because of you, you idiot” Dick hissed and took a few steps towards Jason so now they were angrily looking at each other

“Once again….ugh. What were you two doing?”

“ Talking!” I yelled and finally got their attention making the four boys quiet for a second. “we were talking. And then hugged. That’s it! You are all insane! Yes, Tim, you too! And now, if you all excuse me, I’m going to bed. I;m done with all of you. Have a good night, gentlemen.”

“Y/N….” Jace called to me, guilt and regret In his voice and in his whole posture

“No, Jace. I’m really, really tired. We’ll …. Talk tomorrow. Or not, I guess.” I looked onto the floor “and I’m pretty sure your yelling and screaming woke up Alfred. And possibly Bruce. So good luck with dealing with them.”

***

“Morning, Y/L/N”.

“Ah! Damian! What the fuck!” the youngest Wayne was standing right above me. It was definitely not how I expected to wake up.

“did you sleep well?”

“GET OUT!”

“You know, you should really answer your phone. It rang like twenty times in the last ten minutes. Bet it’s Todd.”

“Yeah, thanks for the head up, Damian.”

“You know, I’ll be more than glad to help you with that little problem with him….”

“I’m serious Damian, get out!”

“Fine, I’ll deal with him without asking you.”

I groaned. My head was killing me after everything that happened last night. All the emotions and doubts coming back. But, if Jason was blowing off my phone that means he sneaked past Bruce and no one got hurt in the process.

“Y/N?” he picked up after the first signal

“Were you expecting someone else?”

“No really, but with our line of work you can never be sure.” He chucked and that made me smile “Did you sleep well?”

“Someone made sure my night was quite eventful.”

“yeah, I’m… I’m sorry about that, love. I guess I got a bit carried away…” I could tell he was scratching his head in embarrassment

“A little?”

“Ok, fine, a lot! I’m sorry. Just seeing you with dick….”

“Jason.” I propped myself up and sat on the bed “come on. I’ve known him forever. He’s like a brother to me. You know that. Nothing could ever happen between us. I saw him in too many shaming moments. Did I ever tell you about that one time I caught him trying yoga and not being able to untwist himself out of a very complicated asana?”

“You did. But I can never get enough of that” he laughed wholeheartedly “I’ll take every story like that.”

“As much as I love to hear you, Jay, I’m sure you didn’t call me to talk about Dick.”

“Oh, hell no. Out of everyone in that manor, you are the only one I’m interested in.” I felt a little blush on my cheeks “Hey, listen, Red cleared some business and is going to have a quiet night. I was thinking…. We haven’t seen each other a lot lately so maybe you could meet me at our rooftop?”

“We saw each other last night when you encroached the manor”

“You know what I mean”

“And you do realize it’s highly disturbing when you talk about yourself in third person?”

“Precautions, honey. Are you absolutely sure it’s a safe line?”

“I was till now.”

“What changed?”

“I heard interference in the back, just give me a second to deal with it….”

I rushed out of my room (still in my pj) to Tim’s and after a little bangs and words spoken in angered voice was back on the line.

“Sorry, Jay. It was Tim, who apparently got bored. But he won’t be eavesdropping on us anymore.”

“What did you do to him?” Jason laughed

“Nothing permanent.” I shrugged even though he could not see it. “However, I think boys can do without me one night so I’d love to meet you. I missed you Jay.”

“I missed you too, baby.”

“And since when it’s our rooftop?”

***

Jason’s POV

I might have lied to her. I did not exactly secured the Red’s business. And now, when I was waiting for her with that helmet on I started to wonder if my goons people could do without me. But I promised her. I promised her some time alone and I wasn’t going to break it. She’s been neglected and abandoned by me way more than it should have happened. God, I did miss her. I missed making her smile, seeing her laugh. Just being with her. It was like my entire being craved her, both physically and emotionally.

“Hey there, stranger.’ oh, there she was, also in her gear, landing softly and quietly on the roof behind me

“Hello, kitty. I’m sorry but I’m waiting for someone.” I smiled taking a step toward her

“Hm, really? Red Hood waiting for someone?” she raised an eyebrow “usually it’s the other way round. Must be someone special then."

“She is. She truly freaking is.” I grabbed her waist and pull her closer to me, breathing in her scent. I had no idea how she was doing it but she always smelled like the ocean. Fresh and intoxicating.

“So, it’s a she.” She hummed and sneaked her hands around me making me melt into her touch “Lucky one.”

“What about you, Cheshie? Are you just wandering around out of loneliness?”

“Maybe. I mean, there is that special one, but we have been passing each other of late.” She pouted “he’s been occupied.”

“Sounds like a loser.”

“Nah. Just busy man with busy schedule. But he promised me he’ll be there tonight.”

“That’s no excuse. A girl like you deserve all the time in the world.” I removed my helmet staying only in the mask.

“Is that so?” she smiled almost unnoticeably.

“I’m sure.” I leaned in, our lips inched apart and I was just burning to kiss her, but she was still keeping her distance. I did not want to force anything, so just waited.

“How about we wait together than, Hood?” she moved slightly up and I took the hint.

“I can work with that.” Finally. Finally our lips met. Her soft one pressing against mine. Fuck! We’ve been kissing so many times before but every time if felt like the first one. She was intoxicating, a poison running in my veins. The kind of poison I never wanted out of my system. I needed more of her so I grabbed her chin lightly deepening the kiss and tightening the grip on her waist to pull her closer to my chest and further into my arms where she belonged. Soon enough my mouth moved to her neck biting on her soft spot.

“Ja….”

“Shhh, baby, use the code name.”

“Nah. I don’t think so” much to my surprise she pushed my away. My boy wouldn’t like me to call someone else’s name. I bet your s/o wouldn’t either.”

“So, you’re the faithful one, huh?”

“It’s only fair to the person I’m in love with.”

“In love, huh? Lucky bastard.”

“Don’t know about it. He’s the type who can get any girl he wants. Maybe he’s just with me because of praxis.” She looked down, dispirited.

“Baby” I lifted her chin up “believe me, I only got eyes for you.”

“What happened to the code names?” Y/N tilted her head in that cute way

“Fuck that. Don’t care anymore. Now, let’s get out of here. I promised you some good time, didn’t I?”

***

Holy shit, he lived up to his word giving me the best time ever. All of his attention and affection I missed for so freaking long. His soft touches and lips lingering on my skin, kissing it from time to time.

Ok, I don’t know what you thought about, but being a vigilante and dating one messed up anti-hero make you enjoy little things.

So, during our time alone, those little moments we get to steal, we were just cuddling together, enjoying a good book. Nothing fancy, and yet it brought us closer together than anything else in the world. Jason was leaning on the bedframe in one of his safe housed, my head on his chest, eyes closed, legs intertwined, his right hand holding the book, while left traced patterns on my skin. We simply enjoyed each other presence and warm, not being Red Hood and Cheshire, just Jason and Y/N, our mask discarded and tossed somewhere on the floor. This may have not been the safest, but neither of us seemed to care.

Honestly, I have no idea how this peaceful evening/night turned into a soap opera. One moment I was falling asleep , feeling loved and secure in his arms and the second someone was banging on the door rushing inside.

“Roy?” Jason sprung out making sure not to drop me onto the floor in the process. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry, Jace. There’s an emergency. We need you like right now.”

“But….” He hesitated looking at me.

“Go! I’m serious. Go! I’ll wait here. Just…. please, don’t kill anyone. Please.”

“I love you, Y/n. “ he pulled me in and kissed me softly, his lips lingering on mine, not ready to let go “I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise.”

***

He was back an hour later. With blood on his hands and it got me spinning the same way it did last night in the manor. Only this time I decided to confront him about it. I should have predicted this would get angry very fast.

"But I fucking love you!"

"YOUR LOVE HURTS!" Oh, damn. I said it.

"Wha... What?" the brokeness on his face seemed to transpire straight into my heart. Just for a second I saw the same little boy I knew before. Little Jason, who craved love and affection and for some crazy reason could never get enough of it. All that shortage was still there.

"Your love.... hurts." I managed to say, but the last part was almost inaudible.

"Hm." he muttered acting so much like Bruce, quickly covering for his moment of weakness

"What?" there were so many words hidden behind that "one "hm" and I caught herself mentally preparing for a hit from him. It was coming.

"You're giving up on me then?" he hissed "you know, for someone who tried to be so different than Bruce and took so much fucking pride out of it, you two are awfully similar."

"Are we really?"

"You don't see it now. But he gave up on me after my death as well. Never fucking coming after Joker to revenge me. It was like....."

"Like he never wanted you." I finished looking straight into his eyes and that sparked something in him.

"'Cause you never really wanted me either, did you?" he hissed taking a few steps towards me and pushing me into the wall with all the force he could get. Which was a lot. I didn't even wince at the hit but my eyes grew wide "You were just playing around, ready to jump into Dick's bed, huh? Cause everyone wants a fucking hero!" he shook me violently.

"This is not fair, Jay. It's so not fair......" I whined. Now he was hurting me.

"Fuck!" finally he realised that his own anti-hero instincts were working against him. Against me. Against us, if there were even still us. Due to that realization he released the grip on my shoulders making me fall to the ground because my legs were shaking.

"You say it like I wasn't fighting for you for the last half a year. I did. You can't deny that."

"Y/N, I'm...."

"I know. You're sorry. That's the thing with you, isn't it? You do some stupid shit. You apologize. And then it starts again. I'm tired, Jason. I'm really, really tired. You dare to put the words in my mouth saying that I don't love you. That I don't think you're worth fighting for. So tell me, why am I not enough for you to go back to your previous self? Not the unhinged....."

"Monster?"

"I never said that." I looked down.

"You didn't have to."

"STOP TRYING TO GUESS WHAT I THINK!" I yelled like never before and took him by surprise. "If I didn't love you, If I thought you were a monster I would give up so long ago. But I didn't. Because I love you more than anything and you fucking know that!"

"And you know I love you Y/N. You do, right?"

"But we're not good for each other, apparently. And I....."

"For what it's worth, I never wanted to put you through it. It's just all this anger inside me" he cupped my cheek resting his forehead on mine. "You can't do it, can you?"

"No. No, I don't think I can."

"It's ok. I get it" his hand moved to the back of my head, the other resting on my waist pulling me closer.

"Do you really?"

"No."

I sighed deeply opening her mouth but he cut me before anything was actually said.

"Stay with me. Just tonight. Please."

"Jaybird......"

"Please. One last time."

"And then it's over?"

"And...." his voice broke and he had to pause before continuing "and then it's over."

***

Jason’s POV

I knew she wasn’t sleeping and neither was I. However, none of us dared saying a word to each other, instead choosing to lay in the bed in complete silence. She was the little spoon and I was holding her (or maybe to her) with desperation I’ve never experienced before. Please, don’t leave me. Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone again. but all those thoughts were selfish. She needed someone better. She deserved someone better. Someone who wouldn’t drag her through hell every night. Someone who would hold her gently, making her feel safe and taken care of. Someone who was not crazy and did not have Lazarus Pit in his veins. Someone nice. Aka some loser, who could never love her the way I did, but would keep her out of the trouble. Red hood, fuck – I was the rood hood! So, I was the one who would always bring trouble to her. Someone could kidnap her, hurt her, kill her, because of me. And what was even worse, she did not deserve to be dragged all over social media as the hero who gets involved with vigilante. The public would eat her alive for hypocrisy. And as much as I knew she wouldn’t say a word about how much that would be killing her inside, I needed to safe her from that.

But I still wanted her in my crazy, messed up life.

She was my lifeline and I loved her so fucking much.

I loved her brain and her body. Her hair and her slightly snub nose. Her hair and her eyes. Her soft skin under my fingers and the way it felt against mine. Her lips. Her sense of humor, her intelligence and the way she always made me feel loved. Even if I never deserved it. I loved the way she was bantering with demon and replacement showing her fluent sarcasm. I loved how she kept her cool and how collected she was during patrols. After all, I might have spied on her a few times. I loved how she was letting me hold her warm, soft body and snuggled into my chest. And now, I was about to lose it all. Loose her. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!

***

I felt like crying, but parting was the right way to do. We tried to make it work and yet, failed. I couldn’t fall asleep again, instead focusing on his hands gently rubbing my skin and his unusually steady breath on my neck. Almost as if he was trying to convince me that everything was going to be fine. We were going to be fine without each other. Big fat lie.We both know this would leave a scar forever. Another one to add to the collection. We couldn’t be together but we also could not be apart.

Now that I said it, it seemed like we were replaying some crazy Shakespeare drama. Romeo and Juliet? Holy shit. If you cut that little romanticism part and the families who tried to keep young lovers apart everything fit. Ironically, even the dying part.

Jason’s breath hitched a bit and he held me closer as I closed my eyes. Please, don’t let me go. I begged silently in my mind. Please, fight for us. Fight for yourself. For…. Me. Sad truth however, he was the one who already gave up. Not me.

I don’t know how and when but we both feel asleep in each other arms. Maybe it was because it was still familiar. Thank god, Jason was far more exhausted than me so I woke up first. Otherwise we would get back into the same spinning circle of apologies, promises and hurt.

Being a vigilante I caught the moment instantly and used it to wriggle out of his arms. It was killing me. I was the only person around whom Jason was able to let his guard down and actually rest and now I was going to pull the rug from under him. From my boy.

But he already knew I would.

I picked up my small bag, quickly gathering all the stuff and kissed the top of his head .

“I love you Jason Todd. No matter what I always will.” I whispered before turning around and sneaking out the window. I didn’t want to use the creeping door to avoid waking him and starting this whole circle of convincing again.

***

Third person POV

When he woke up she was already gone, the only sign she was real in the form of messy pillow and her lingering scent on the sheets.

“FUCK!” he groaned in frustration throwing a fist into the wall. He lost her. Again. This time probably for good.

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geneticdriftwood · 20 days

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I just finished reading green arrow 2023 and I’m thinking about a pre-nu52 dickroy au set shortly after bruce returns to life and dick goes back to being nightwing, but with lian’s current backstory mixed in. the timeline is pretty much standard pre-boot canon, with the major exception that lian “died” like a month before bruce did, and then got yoinked around through time and space, eventually landing in gotham.

so at the time the story starts, she’s ~14 and running around alleytown doing vigilante stuff as cheshire cat, and befriends damian, who’s ~12-13 and struggling to adjust to life with bruce back. they end up working an investigation together (damian doesn’t tell anyone about this) and end up accidentally teleported to a secret base on a distant planet. cue wacky home alone style alien base sabotage hijinks! but they’re gonna need to get home eventually, so they hack some comms to send a coded message back to dick where damians like “richard come pick me up also btw im here with lian she has blue hair and says she’s your niece”.

meanwhile dick is struggling to figure out how to be himself again now that bruce is back, and is still helping out too much in gotham while repressing his conflicted feelings about everything. he and roy aren’t really talking, because a month after roy’s daughter died, dick dropped everything and got sucked into gotham as batman and wasn’t there for roy at all. and there were reasons for that! bruce was dead! but roy did everything to be there for dick when donna died, and this is part of a pattern of dick’s, and there’s a lot of hurt and they haven’t talked about it at all.

but suddenly lian is alive and with damian on an alien planet! naturally dick and roy go on a rescue mission road trip (kory helps with space stuff), and in the process are forced to actually work through all their many years of built up issues. so they’re having vicious arguments and opening up about grief and working through painful memories, all while fighting their way through an alien jungle full of giant carnivorous bugs or something. and we cut between that and little cameos of lian and damian doing fun spykids-but-with-aliens antics! (and eventually we get a happy ending where dick commits to choosing roy & lian & damian & himself over bruce & gotham.)

#listen I just think having lian alive and just chilling in gotham is such a wild decision and needs to be explored #and this way I can stick to the preboot timeline and add a whole bunch of angst #I think lian is 15-16 at the time of ga2023 but this is happening earlier #very curious if anyone else finds this idea interesting #I have some dialogue written and like half of an outline so far #I need to get through more of my preboot self-assigned reading before I can write most of this tho #fic planning #wips #lost and found au #<- thats my working tag but I need to figure out a better title #dickroy #roydick #lian harper #<- im not maintagging otherwise but I think ppl who follow those might enjoy this #mine: dc

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stuffedwalrus · 2 months

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Little damian and duke bonding thing

TW: Internalized transphobia

“I..” Damian hesitates, something that makes Duke's mouth snap shut with an audible click. “I am not who you believe me to be. I..have deceived you all.”

“What?” Duke breathes out, intending to stop at that one word. He didn’t, however, instead continuing with a slight tilt of his head. “You get a new cat? A new secret identity? Wait, no, don’t tell me! You’re a clone.”

Damian, much to Duke's relief, rolls his eyes so hard it looks like it’d hurt on anyone else and scoffs at him. “Don’t be ridiculous, Thomas. This is serious.”

“Right, yeah, sorry. Keep going.”

“Tt” Damian sends another quick glance towards the exit, most likely assuring that no one was around to hear what he clearly needed to say and, frankly, it’s highly unlikely anyone would be. Damian had found him in a corner of the mansion not even Alfred frequented more than a handful of times throughout the months. A quiet, secluded, area towards the back of the manor with tall windows that overlooked the backyard and all the eerie land around the manor. The doors, made of large solid slabs of mahogany and forged years before even Bruce was a thought help in keeping the room hauntingly silent, allowing it to go relatively unnoticed.

Duke is starting to think that finding his shoes in here was a lot more deliberate than before, as Damians eyes slowly did another sweep across the sitting room.

“Hey, I really am sorry…about making it silly. Whatever this is seems important to you and I—”

“Shut up, Thomas. You're making me regret this.”

“Right, right. Carry on.”

Damian takes one more glance around the room before leaning his upper body closer towards Duke, a grave expression on his face.

“I am…not a boy.”

“Oh.” Duke pauses, whole body going still while he processes the new information. “You’re…not a boy?”

“No.” Da-they mutter, looking away. Duke hums, shifting his body weight from where it had settled at the tips of his fingers. He wills a few shadows away, the one he naturally creates when he gets the urge to hide, and looks to his…younger sibling with something he hopes looks like empathy.

“Okay, not a boy. Cool, that’s cool. I’m not, either.”

“What.” Dami(?) says flatly, looking at Duke with a mix of emotions that he cannot pinpoint. He thinks he sees contempt somewhere in there, though. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I-” Duke cuts himself off, looking back and forth between D and the door. “I mean I’m not a boy either. I haven’t really told anyone in the family, kinda wanted to feel stuff out first, y'know but. Yeah.” He finishes lamely. It’s clear D is not impressed if the look on her(?) face is anything to go by. They don't say anything immediately, which causes a swirl of emotions to fill Duke's chest but finally, after a few tense minutes, D speaks.

“I refuse to sit here and be mocked by you, you insolent-”

“Whoa, whoa. Who’s mocking you?” Duke asks, genuine confusion flooding his brain. He thinks back on his words, wondering what it is that possibly could’ve been misconstrued. “I’m not mocking you?”

“Then what are you doing?” D hisses, shoulder tight with something a little too closed in to be anger.

“I’m…trying to relate?” He says like a question which makes D curl up tighter. “I just- I’m not a boy. You said you weren’t and I…thought it’d make you feel better if you knew I wasn’t fully one either?”

“You were born a girl too?”

“I-what.” Duke blinks, eyes widening as he looks to D with scrunched up brows. “No? I was assigned male at birth…were you not?”

Suddenly D…Damians(?) face heats up as he(?) averts his eyes from Duke. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Damian do that and it’s kind of freaking him out. “Did I not just tell you such?”

“I..I thought…wait so are you trans or not?”

“What’s trans?”

Duke blinks at the kid. Once. Twice. Realizes they’re fully serious. He suddenly rises from his seat, feeling the need to pace around while he tries to process what it is exactly that he’s missing.

“Okay…okay. You said you aren’t a boy-”

“Correct.” Damian murmurs, looking to Duke with open weariness and a little bit of annoyance.

“That you were assigned female at birth-”

“Yes, Thomas we’ve established.”

“But…we all know you as a boy.”

Damian physically curls up on himself now, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He rests his head on his knees but doesn’t look anywhere near Duke.

“I…I was told to, by mother, when I first got here.” He explains but not really because that is, in no way, shape or form, an acceptable explanation. Luckily he continues. “I was told it’d be better to tell father I was a boy, in case there may be any issues with me being heir due to my gender. After I cut off all connections to mother and the league I...remained a boy. I feared revealing such information may cause my path to redemption to suffer…”

“But?” Duke prods, gently, brain making connections seconds ago but needing the words straight from Damian himself.

“But..” Damian does finally look at him now, though it's brief and filled with something so so heartbreaking before it’s immediately covered up by that classic Wayne Family Wall Building. “But…I…had grown quite comfortable portraying myself as male. It was…nice. I had never given much thought to who I was before I came here but…if I had had a choice…I believe I would have chosen to be a male from the very beginning.”

He shoots another glance at Duke, immediately averting his eyes down to the bright green fuzzy socks he adorned. “Though I am aware that is a foolish desire. I am a girl…I cannot escape that.”

Duke thinks he hears Damian mutter a small “no matter how hard I try” under his breath but doesn't think too hard about it because he's far too busy taking in a big breath. Letting it out. Doing it another time for good luck and sanity.

“Okay…can I tell you what I thought was going on?”

Damian raises a brow but gestures at him to continue.

“I thought…that when you told me that…I was gonna have a new sister or something.”

“I am not new. I was always your sister.”

“You’ve never been my sister, Dami. I thought you were trans but, like, the other way at first. “

“ I..still don’t know what that means.” Damian mutters, still clearly upset by his lack of knowledge about something. Anything, really.

“It's..it's you, I guess. It's when someone is born as one gender but realizes they're actually another gender. Or no gender, that works too. Or both genders. Or, really anything. Like, all the genders but not all the time? I'm that, I think? Look-” He cuts himself off, finally sitting back down on the couch next to Damian. “If you were technically born a girl but you're a lot more comfortable and happier being a boy then…well no one's gonna tell you to go back to being a girl.”

Damian looks at him suspiciously, eyebrow raised to the high heavens.

“You're pulling my leg.”

“I'm not. I wouldn't. Not about this.” Duke reassured, placing a hand in the space between him and Damian. It doesn't quite reach the other boy but it's there if he wants it. Needs it.

“You are.” Damian insists, sitting up straighter and shooting a disapproving look at the hand. “Grandfather would never allow such a…a delusional existence.”

“It's not delusional. It's real and it's completely valid and…and super cool and…shit I am not made for these speeches.”

“I'll say,” Damian snorts, hands crossing over his chest.

“What I'm saying is you don't have to be a girl if you don't want to. If you want to keep being a boy then be a boy. We'll all accept you, dude. It's all good.”

Damian doesn't say anything, instead sitting almost completely still and silent for a good five minutes. Duke was about to shake him before his head suddenly snapped up, looking towards Duke's direction.

“I want to be a boy. If I am truly allowed to choose…I choose this. I choose to be Damian.”

“Cool.” Duke nods, smiling. “That's cool, dude. Glad you're learning new things about yourself.”

“Yes. It is...good. And you're sure father will not be upset?”

“Nah. When Tim came out as bi Bruce went on a whole deep dive learning all about the community and making sure he was super inclusive. If anything he might be too supportive.”

Damian snorts and Duke silently pats himself on the back for this big bro moment of his.

“Though, quick question.” Duke says, mind raking through every bit extra thought in his mind. “Why...did you tell me? Before anyone else? Before Bruce or Dick?”

“Well…” Damian hesitates. He's been doing that a lot these past few minutes. It should freak Duke out but right now his brain is fried and stuck in protective older brother mode. Every hesitance is just an added weight to his already cracking heart. “You're the most accepting of strange situations and people and I assumed you'd be the most…okay with my lies. Nor would you use it as blackmail against father or Grayson. You're good, Thomas. I….I needed good.”

“None of the others would do that to you.” Thomas says first, placing a hand on Damians shoulder. “They're jerks sometimes but they're not monsters. They're yo-our siblings. They'd let you come out on your own time.”

Damian doesn't say anything and Duke doesn't make him. They sit in silence for a few minutes before Damian's body slowly starts to tilt to the side. He lands, gently, onto Duke's shoulders, his head resting perfectly on top.

“I'll have to let them know eventually. They'll want to let the public know and I'll need a good cover story to hide why they were unaware of the truth.”

“You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. For however long you don't want to do it. This is your thing, not theirs. You can tell them and we'll never tell the press or Gotham and you'll go on just like how you are. All your shit says male, anyway. Not like we'd have to change anything there.”

“I guess.”

“And medically everything can be covered. Bruce can make, like, a thousand NDA’s. You might get some pills or some shots or some other stuff. Nothing crazy. Nothing anyone will look down on you for.”

Damian hums, mouth pressed shut.

“And, hey,” he nudges Damian to look up at him, making sure their eyes meet. “I'll be right there with you if you want. No matter what anyone says or how anyone reacts, I'll always be in your corner, okay? Always.”

“I—” he cuts himself off with a quick yank of his head and a hidden sniff. “Thank you, Th—...Duke. Thank you, Duke. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Dami. Anytime.”

#little idea i had #I AM NOT A COMICS READER #I RECENTLY GOT INTO THE FANFICS AND I THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE CUTE #Sorry for any inaccuracies I just like sibling bonding #damian wayne #duke thomas #I don't think the league is transphobic but i needed plot #tw internalized transphobia #tw slight sexism #batfam #ficlet #not a fully fleshed idea #pls no hate i know its ooc I just wanted to write this pls y thank u

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elvesandlanterns · 1 year

Text

Ghost Helpline part 17 - Aftermath

Violet spends the next week stuck inside. It wasn’t bad. Dad washed, clothed and feed her teleportation sickness away. She sleeps in his bed and he sends her to sleep with fairytales. Violet doesn’t know what she’s supposed to learn from these stories, it’s nice tho.

Violet doesn’t remember being a baby, maybe she never was one? This softness with her new dad leaves her wanting. Violet would like to beige that if she ever was a baby that she had been held like this - as if she was something precious.

Funny enough her bed rest has her brothers divided. Violet lies about and blames it all on a summoning gone wrong. Brad doesn’t correct her.

It leaves half of her brothers to tiptoe around her as if she’s going to go feral at any moment. The other half yell, they’re angry. Konstelacio isn’t sure which she hates more.

Brad shuts himself away from everyone except Chad and Ziyad.

Billy hugs her and tells her everything about his mission. Almost everything he dances around something. Something important, he calls Batman a dick twice. It makes her feel better about lying.

Klarion gives her an amulet and drags Charles over to tell her about their night out.

Dandy … Dandy doesn’t take it well.

“SOMEONE should have been with her!”

“Brad SHOULD have called me!”

“We should be HOME! Not here with all these these … !”

“You know how I feel about humans.”

Every days another fight.

Konstelacio sneaks out the window.

—- —- —-

It’s been a week since the commotion on the Watch Tower. Six days since they started developing an injectable cure for Vampires Fog. Five days since his talk with Tim. Four days since his kids have begun to mercilessly tease him over more frequent phone use. Three days since he read Nightwings report on the pink vampire. Two days since Constantine had contacted him with an update. They had some more info. One day since he called Clark asking him to schedule a JL meeting.

Six hours thirty two minutes and 54 seconds since Vlad last texted him.

Bruce debated sending him another cat meme to hurry up the process.

He knew he shouldn’t be worried, apparently his only daughter had gotten the flu. And much like Tim, when they got sick they got really sick.

Bruce sent him- her- them! Bruce sent them flowers. Hopefully she would get better soon. It was painfully obvious that Vlad loved his children and her getting sick had him stressing out.

Bruce debated inviting the Masters family over for dinner.

The kids would bully him relentlessly.

Alfred would love it.

—- —— ——

The entire week has been strange to Damian. For some reason his father has been texting the head of their new neighbors relentlessly, much to his sibling’s amusement. Damian doesn’t understand why father and him suddenly “need” friends. The whole act was a waste of time, Jon was enough friendship he needed anyway.

Damian stalked into the backyards tree line. Today was good day to paint damian thought as he set up his easel. Just a sunny quiet day with no distractions.

Wwhhhooossshhhh!

That, that was probably just some animal on the property. It wasn’t uncommon to see bunnies or cats skittering around the areas of estate that still resembled a forest.

Wwwwhhhhoooshhhh!

Damian followed the sound deeper into the tree line.

Wwwhhhossh!

That didn’t sound like an animal anymore. If anything it sounded like it was coming from above…?

Damian turned his head towards the sky.

It was just a girl. How disappointing, Damian had hoped to find a big cat.

She was sitting on a tree branch, swinging her legs like she had no trouble in the world. Tch- she probably doesn’t. No doubt she’s one of his new neighbors.

Wait … hadn’t she been sick recently? What was she doing out here? What was she thinking climbing that high?!

“Oi! Imbecile what are you thinking? Get down from there! “

Her head whipped around to face him.

He knew that face, he’d drawn it several times for the league files. It was missing the scar and golden eyes. But he knew that face.

He knew that face… Konstelacio ?

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howdoyousleep3 · 3 years

Note

where’s that hc about bucky learning to touch 🤲

I was hoping someone would notice that tag and hit me up. Thank you, sweet pea. This one is special to me, one of many. ❤

Bucky doesn’t say much about what happened to him after the fall and before Steve was miraculously given a second chance at a life with him. Steve is thankful for that. The details he does know come from Bucky’s therapist and from files that have been scrounged up over time, ones Steve can’t stomach through, ones he hands to Natasha and asks only for the information she finds pertinent.

Steve is sure he’d die of a goddamn broken heart if he knew every detail of Bucky’s 70+ years of brainwashed torture.

What he needs to know about Bucky is constant and will never change: this is James Barnes, the one in the same Steve spent his entire life falling in love with, Steve loves him now more than ever, and he is going to live every day he’s gifted with in this life for Bucky.

There are things Steve expects after Bucky joins him and the others back at the Tower, things Bruce has helped him comprehend in such a volatile predicament.

“It could take months, years even, for him to come back to you in full. And honestly, Steve...I would be ready for the possibility of him not returning to you in full. This may not end up being the Bucky you knew and grew up with. He needs therapy, needs patience, needs reminders of his life before, of who he was and is. This won’t be easy, Steve.”

Anything for Bucky.

There are things Bucky took to right away and other things that took much longer for him to enjoy or remember. Steve is with him every step of the way.

Sleep was one thing that Steve thought would be a struggle. After only one month of sleeping on the floor in the corner of his bedroom, Steve able to hear him tossing and turning and breathing heavily through his own bedroom wall, it took one afternoon nap on the couch to make him want to move to his new bed. While nightmares continued, Bucky slept albeit in small increments and sometimes through the day, but he slept.

Steve thought that would take years.

Crowds were another story. Crowds came with trust and Bucky rightfully didn’t trust others easily. He barely trusted Steve at first. It took time to get him out of the apartment, baby steps, one step forward and two steps back. They started with walks at dawn, fewer people, gave a shot at stopping for coffee on the way home a few times.

“It’s a Venti here, Buck,” Steve had tried to explain and Bucky huffed. “Why are things so goddamn complicated now? Just want a coffee, a—”

“I know— a black coffee with too much sugar. I got it.”

They’re working on interactions with others and the anxiety that comes with crowds. That one will take time.

What hadn’t taken time, and what startled everyone in the tower beyond belief, was Bucky and affection.

Steve may not know much of what Bucky has spent most of his life enduring but he at least had the assumption that what Bucky went through shouldn’t make him want any kind of touch from another person. Steve wrongfully assumed that any sort of gentle or soft touch wasn't something Bucky would like.

Bucky had spent the past 70+ years walking this earth as a killer, a robot, a machine, an assassin. He surely spent decades thinking he wasn’t worthy of anything, let alone love. He had been touch-starved, void of the tenderness and closeness Steve knows Bucky deserved and craved underneath the brainwashed parts of him.

It took time for Bucky to remember who Steve was to him. While he had recognized him immediately, remembering him but not how, it took months for Bucky to remembered the capacity in which he did so.

And Steve waited.

And waited.

Steve was gifted with small moments along the way, on this journey of Bucky remembering both himself and who Steve was to him:

“You...you were real small once,” Bucky said, factual with no trace of a question, hands in soapy water as he handed Steve a plate to dry. Steve had merely hummed. “Yeah, was...was maybe half the size I am now. Real small.”

“Could fit both’a my hands right around your middle…”

It had been a long while since Steve blushed like that.

Bucky standing over Steve’s sleeping form, heaving chest visible by only the filtered moonlight, Steve mumbling out a, “Buck, wha—?” before Bucky whispered, “You...you’ve been inside of me.” Steve sat up.

“I have,” Steve breathed, on cautious ground, shakier when Bucky then whispered, “But you like it better when I’m inside’a you.”

When Steve had swallowed audibly, nodded his head wordlessly, Bucky had turned and left the room.

It took months of moments like those to compile together, to form the picture of what Steve once was, what he yearned to continue to be, to Bucky. All of these moments, these memories, came to a head so unpredictably during yet another movie night. Knees knocking, fingers brushing, small touches that Steve absolutely soaked in, had gotten used to, had relearned.

When a glance towards Bucky had the wind knocking its way out of Steve’s chest, the familiarity of that look a bone-deep ache—

Bucky was going to kiss him.

A look full of determination and want, lips parted, eyes a bit glassy. Steve didn't dare move, had let Bucky come to him for fear of scaring him away. The moment their lips touched was the moment Bucky started crying. It had only been a short brush of their lips but Steve barely breathed, barely moved. Bucky had pulled back with wide, wet eyes, shaky breaths. “Buck, it’s okay. It’s okay. Everything’s alright, sweetheart,” are the words that easily slipped from his mouth, unable to stop them in a moment of progress that satiated his entire being.

That was the moment that changed everything. It was a startle to everyone involved. Steve had been ready to wait years, this entire life, for the moment he could touch Bucky again, could show him that physicality he knew his Buck craved. After that night on the couch it was as if the floodgates had opened—

Bucky remembered and wanted.

Regardless of where they were or what was happening, he wanted to be touching Steve: soft kisses on the cheek and lips, laying his head in Steve’s lap as he read, lacing his fingers between Steve’s during meetings, an arm wrapped around Steve’s waist between bouts of sparring. He’d trace patterns onto Steve’s thigh as he watched Steve draw, press against the line of his back while he cooked dinner.

Steve was floating on a cloud, was in heaven, never happier. It was perfection.

But what Bucky wanted, Steve couldn’t provide, couldn’t meet. Steve was only one man, couldn’t provide Bucky, whom touch had been stolen away from for decades, with everything he wanted. And that was okay, something Steve accepted, because there were other people Bucky could turn to that Steve trusted.

“I’m sure you all know why I asked you to meet with me,” Steve started, choosing a time Bucky was napping to meet with the rest of the group that either lived in or frequented the Tower. “Bucky has shown us a new side of him, has made some progress I think it’s worth discussing with everyone, since we’re all...we’ve all been affected...”

“Uhh, yeah— your Barnes-y boy has been all over me lately. I’m almost offended that everyone else is here to talk to Cap though. Thought he was just comin' onto me.”

“I have to tell you, I didn’t...I know we talked, Steve. But I’m honestly shocked at Bucky’s progress. It’s baffling.”

“I haven’t minded it. He lets me braid his hair.”

“Wait— y’all are getting touches?”

It was a group effort, supporting Bucky in this way. It was an adjustment, Bucky never prompting and questioning before touching or requesting touches— he just went for it. He was quiet still, not shy, merely observant. And just like he nudged at and leaned against Steve until his hands were on him, he did the same to others.

“I just ask that you show Bucky grace during this time. It’s a delicate situation. I need to know if you don’t want his touch or don’t wish to give him any kind of touch. I think it would be best if it came from me instead of from you in the moment.”

Natasha was who Bucky went to for scratches. Steve thinks it’s the nails. Steve also thinks Nat is Bucky’s favorite to go to for touches, even over him, but Bucky refuses to admit it.

When Bucky wants mindless touches, when he wants tickles and scratches, he goes to her. She naturally took to Bucky’s need for touches, the first occurrence one that came without hesitation. She’ll braid his hair, let him turn his head right where he wants her head scratches, naturally reaches for his back or shoulders to run her nails across when he saddles in close to her.

Thor is one of Bucky’s favorites too. Steve isn’t sure if it’s because of his strength or because of his warm and accepting demeanor but Bucky gravitates towards Thor often, mainly for neck and shoulder rubs. One, “James, my friend. You musn’t be afraid of asking for touch with me. I will always be willing to assist,” and that was all Bucky needed to feel comfortable walking over to Thor and nudging at his hands.

He puts his head on Bruce’s shoulder as soon as he can, likes sparring and playing hide and seek with Clint, enjoys putting his feet in Sam’s lap. Tony took some warming up to, but even then Bucky spent many hours in Tony’s lab, Tony guiding his hands, showing him what to do and how to work different machines, the two of them tinkering on his own arm.

Bucky kinda turns into the Tower kitty cat, wandering around quietly, napping in the sun, snacking, demanding affection from anyone he crosses paths with and trusts.

Everyone had their form of touch they shared with Bucky and Bucky absolutely blossomed under this form of support. Steve is forever grateful to be surrounded by a group of understanding individuals.

And every night when he lifts the comforter and feels the solid line of Bucky’s warm form against his side, the arm that now easily and inevitably slips around his waist, the familiar lips that always press against his temple, shoulder, and cheek, Steve is reminded this day was for Bucky and that the one they’ll wake up to will also be for him.

"I love you, Buck."

"Mhmm love you too, pal."

Steve doesn't even mind that Bucky spends his nights snoring in the crook of his neck, hot breath wafting over Steve's skin, hands grabby even as he dreams—

This is heaven.

#askK #fluffy lub #recovering bucky #found family #avengers 2012 #this is one of a million i have of these #i rarely share like...canon-ish thoughts because i assume people are going to tear them to pieces lol #but i've been sitting on this one for a while #my tense might be way outta wack here lol my bad #tower of god

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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

BBQ at the Kent's

Clark invites his friends over for a quiet BBQ at Ma's farm. It just doesn't go quite how he expected.

Masterlist

........................................................................

Clark had invited his closest friends and their underlings to a BBQ at Kent farm. So what if his closest friends, all happened to be from the Justice League. Kent Farm was a perfect location. It was out the way so if power mishaps it was unlikely to be observed by anyone passing by. It was a large space so could hold lots of people. Especially as his friends seemed to have a habit of collecting underlings like Pokémon, in particular Bruce. AND it wasn't Wayne manor which despite what Bruce says isn't always a relaxing place to be.

Ma was catching up with Alfred and Lois which was good, Alfred deserved a medal as well as the chance to relax. The teens and kids were mucking about/chilling in the house, and he could catch up with his colleague slash friends and relax.

What he may have miscalculated though was his little sister returning home to see Ma. She knew about him and his 'side job'. She had also, very early on, figured out his friends ‘side jobs’ too. Working it out was a breeze according to her, they weren’t particularly discrete in the beginning (according to her at least). She had covered for him and saved his bacon more times than he would willingly admit. Hell, she's covered for him to them and covered for them without them knowing. She’d provided so many alibis and removed evidence that they hadn’t thought about. The issue though, with his sister turning up, was more that THEY a) didn't know about her and b) didn't know that she knew and finally c) she could quite easily give them all a run for their money.

___________________________________

Walking into her family home she found a swarm of teens lounging around the living room. They were all chatting and talking over each other that they didn't notice her enter. Raising an eyebrow, she spotted Conner, who was currently wrapped around another boy with dark hair.

"Hey Mini Bale! Nice look you got going. Bet it's driving the old men mad and completely beats the plaid shirts and starched suits. Is Haybale out in the yard?"

Conner jumped, causing the others in the room to stop chatting, and looks to see his sort of aunt smirking at him across the room.

"Hey M, didn't know you were coming too? Yeah Clarks out back. Ummm….. why are you here?"

"This is my home too Mini Bale.” She deadpans him, “I was planning to surprise to see Ma as not visited in person for a while. I don’t need to tell Haybale every time I visit, he isn’t the boss of me.” Conner’s aunt pouted before gaining a glint in her eye, “What I wasn't expecting to see was Haybale having a "small gathering” here and not invite moi! But alas it is what it is."

The glint turning into a smug look with a dangerous edge as she took in the room.

"Auntie M!!!", the call distracted her from the room suddenly as Jon ran in from the kitchen and launched himself into a flying jump to hug with the women standing in the room. "Straw stack!! How are you doing sweetie? Made any new friends?"

While Jon dissolved into conversation with his Auntie, Tim took the opportunity to quickly assess the newly dubbed Em. She was well dressed, the sort you don't often see on farms and would be better placed in the city. Her clothes were expensive, the type he often could see board members wearing when relaxing. Even with Jon holding her attention she seemed to have clocked him studying her and nearly everyone else who was watching her interactions. Leaning into his boyfriend he queried.

"Em? Does she? Is she? Who???"

Conner chuckled at Tim's confusion, as well as the mystified faces of the others there.

"Tim, guys, I'd like to introduce you to Clark's sister, and my sorta aunt and Jon’s definite Auntie, Marinette. M for short. And before you ask Tim, no she isn’t like him. She *does* works with Max Kante in developing high tech material and gadgets since well she grew up with Clark and wanted to help him cope with his powers… She and Max created MiracuTech as a result. It’s her brainchild though really, M doesn’t really need Max."

"Mini Bale stop!! You’re dramatizing it. I need Max just as much as he needs me, our skill set complement each other. We couldn’t make half the stuff MiracuTech does without his input.” Marinette blushed, “Max says hi by the way and to tell you to pop by the office. He wants to test his new “creation” with you. Not that that offer will remain if you keep speaking of him like that. But it does remind me, how are you finding the glasses?"

It was Conner’s turn to smirk at his friends, and they could suddenly see the family resemblance in the pair.

"They're are awesome M. Like the play back function is brilliant. I've recorded so much blackmail."

His friends paused and a shiver went down their spines recalling all the incidents that have happened since Conner got his latest sunglasses.

"Fab feedback. I'll let Max know.” Taking as glance around the room, “I'm gonna take a wild guess as say Battle Barbie, Fishtails, Greedy Gonzales and Moody & Broody are out back with Haybale and Ma, Mini Bale?"

That again caused the room to freeze, being siblings with Clark kinda made sense that she would have known his identity, but for Clark to tell her about other identities was worrying. Conner tilted his head and looked at his sorta aunt as if trying to work out what she was planning.

"Yeeeeah, what are you up to M? I'm pretty sure you promised Clark you'd not cause mischief when you met everyone."

"I deny ever making that promise. I have evidence to back up that claim too. Plus, the amount of shit Haybale has caused me cos of his moral compass and lack of impulse control makes it fair game. Though I do support his altruism.” She paused debating what she would say next, “To set the record straight what I *actually* promised was that I would *consider* not causing *too much* mischief. And I have considered it and think that I'll survive this course of action. You’re not the only one with playback ability. Thanks for the info Mini Bale. Let's catch up more later!"

With that she ruffled his hair as she walked past him out to see her dear older brother.

"You've spent too much time as a cat M!" Conner called as he tried to sort out his hair. The room erupted as she left the room. Confusion, mild panic as to whether their identities were at risk and answers were demanded from Conner and Jon. Tim whined at Conner’s comment, "Cat?! We've got to keep B away from her!"

___________________________________

Out in the yard, Clark was relaxed surround by what he supposed was the founding JL members. He'd heard his sister turn up and cause subtle chaos amongst the teens in the house slowly dreading her announcing her arrival out here. Ma would be thrilled to see her. He was too, sort of. Just not in front of everyone. Kon-El was right with her spending too much time as a cat. And Tim was right as well. He'd have to keep Bruce away from her, she'd be just his latest type.

"HAY BALE! You're holding a party for little ol' me?! How delightful of you."

Clark cringed. He still hated her nickname for him.

"Lois! Ma! You both look lovely as ever! Oh, it’s been too long since I've seen you in person."

Marinette swooped past Clark to the ladies and gave them huge hugs before quickly falling into conversation to catching up with them, thankfully ignoring Clark allowing him some time to deal with his friends.

"Why is Marinette K from MiracuTech at your farm Clark?"

Barry quickly asked, staring at his sister with stars in his eyes. Ok maybe it wasn't just Bruce Clark had to worry about.

"Yes, why is the Guardian, Lady Fortune, at your home?" queried Arthur looking at Clark with confusion and slight apprehension.

"MiracuTech… Guardian," Diana quickly put together gasping, looking at Arthur who had cottoned on to her implications as well, then back at Marinette.

"Guys! Please! Cool it, M I hope," Clark quickly glared at his sister, who was grinning manically knowing the trouble she was causing for him, "can answer your questions and Barry, M, Marinette, is my sister. Why wouldn't she come here? Though this wasn't planned visit that I was aware of."

"You have a sister."

Bruce stated, as Diana and Arthur wondered off talking in hushed tones. Clark could hear that they had figured out one of her 'other' identities but was content that they wouldn't add drama for the moment he redirected his attention back to Bruce.

Clark sighed tiredly, "yes, I have a sister, Bruce. Who likes to keep her personal life private. Which is why you guys have just found out about her and not before."

"Is she Kryptonian?"

"Bruce!! you can't ask Clark that!!" Barry exclaimed, not really surprised by his bluntness but still Alfred was about, and he was ‘Bruce’ currently so social etiquettes, and all should be observed.

"What can't Moody & Broody ask Haybale, Greedy Gonzales?" Marinette enquired, a picture of planned innocence, as she snuck up on them. She gave Clark a side hug and a ‘knowing’ sibling smile.

"M… please… stop with that nickname. Bruce was just asking if you were adopted as well."

"Fine!" She rolled her eyes, "Boy Scout it is then. Moody & Broody I'm not adopted. Ma and Pa had me as a 'Surprise! you're pregnant’ a few years after they'd adopted Boy Scout here"

Bruce frowned at the names she'd been given them. While she just gave a facade of innocence, she held a glint in her eye that destroyed the illusion along with the names she was giving everyone.

Ignoring Clark and Bruce, Marinette turned to Barry to discuss his work at S.T.A.R labs and potential collaboration with MiracuTech. Clark internally groaned as he watched his sister get animated about some sort of tech project she wanted to discuss.

Bruce observed the interaction. It was clear that she knew more than she was letting on. Though he had done research on his peers to know their weaknesses and strengths, Clark having a younger sister never came up. How he had hidden her was impressive, unless it was herself who had hidden her existence from him… That was worrying causing Bruce to deepen his frown as he watched Barry and Marinette chat.

Clark joined in frowning at the pair, but because of how was Barry flirting with his BABY sister before he started to groan as it seemed to go completely over her head. She still seemed to be oblivious to those around her liking her slightly more than friendship.

"M! Ma's told you before no business talk at home."

Laughing back at him his sister nodded "We’ll have to continue this discussion another day maybe Greedy Gonzalez, when Boy Scout isn't being all boy scout-y and acting like a golden child."

Seeing an opportunity Diana butted in and 'subtly' tried to guide Marinette to where she was sitting with Arthur. "Lady Fortune, it's an honour to meet you in person. My mother has told many a tale of our mutual friends’ legacy"

"M is fine. Lady is much too formal for my liking right Ms Prince? Our friends have told me much about your mother as well Battle Barbie. But I must say I'd be more interested to hear about your curator work at the Louvre" Allowing herself to be led away.

___________________________________

Bruce gave Clark a patented batglare, "She knows." Clark rubbed his neck before back at Bruce.

"Yes. She knows. She's my sister. It's kinda hard to hide learning how to manage superpowers from family you know. It was her and Pa that helped find solutions to manage the powers. Lead glasses… her idea."

Growling at Clarks response. "She knows ours. You told her"

Taking a deep breath, "No Bruce.” Clark sighed out, praying to the god’s his sister cared for, for the patience to deal with his paranoid friend, “I didn't. She's smart. Ridiculously and stupidly smart but that's aside. She *knows* who I am. She follows my career, like I do hers. She knows who I work with, like I know who she works with. And who my friends are. The info is all there to work it out. She's also got me out of tight spots as an alibi way too often. I'm pretty sure this is opportunistic revenge for it. Especially for all she did before Lois *knew*"

"Oh god it was her calling you at the watch tower that made you pale. Not Ma Kent!!" Barry cackled, "She's the one you're scared of!!"

"Ssshhhhh Barry! Yes! She terrifies me. Much more than little sisters should. You do realise she has covered all your butts more than you think too. Remember she is a tech genius, she works *with other* tech genius’s and we, sometimes in a rush in the early days, forgot about cameras and visuals lining up."

Barry paled at that. Bruce on the other hand looked intrigued. Of course, her problem solving, and detective skills would attract him. "How long has she known?"

"Mine, since forever and never told anyone. Yours, as she has never said anything directly, I’m going to guess since we worked together the first times. I don’t really know for how long, but it’s been since the early days. You don’t need to worry though; she understands the need for secrets and how to keep them. This,” Clark says waving his hand around, “is her way to letting you know she knows without stating it. It’s definitely her subtle form of revenge on me for having to hack large corporations and delete footage or claiming that I was with her visiting so couldn’t get caught out.”

Clark turned to Bruce all serious, “Don’t antagonise or integrate her. Please Bruce! She can and will break into the Batcomputer and cause it to run slow and force your phones and alarms to only play baby shark.”

“So, she’s the one who helped you hack LexCorp to get the evidence required for your latest article”

“That’s what you got from that?! That my genius *baby* sister sometimes, might, maybe, help gather evidence to take down corrupt businessmen and politicians?! Not the fact that you shouldn’t wind her up!!”

“Well I know your tech skills aren’t up to scratch and though there was potential for Lois, it doesn’t really fit her MO so its nice to know how you truly do it. Do you think she would tell us how she hacked into JL main computer and the bat computer? Or be willing to assist in building better protection.”

Clark stared at Bruce, and was about to respond, but before he could Diana caught his eye as she knelt before M holding her hand. Stars in Diana’s eyes while Arthur looked like he was going to faint.

He groaned. Now, Diana!

His baby sister was really trying to stress him out with all the potential shovel talks he would need to make. The shimmer in her eyes when she briefly caught him looking at her suggested that she may be more aware that she was letting on. With the headache she was causing him, he would need a drink after all this.

Thankfully, before Marinette could cause more chaos with the Atlantean and Amazonian, her phone went off resulting in her slinking off to deal with what sounded like guardian issues from his eaves dropping giving what he thought was breathing room.

“Are you ok Arthur? Do I need to talk to M?” Clark enquired to his friend, hoping his sister hadn’t caused too much trauma for his friend.

“She can hold both sides of the balance and not succumb to the pressure or temptation. A true soul and so young. You let this all happen to your younger sister?”

Ok so she had caused some trauma for the Atlantean after all. He was certain it was related to the cat as well as the bug.

“Let is a strong word, Arthur. Forced is more appropriate. M is more stubborn than Bruce at times. And at 14... yeah hormonal teenage younger sister in Paris. My hand was forced.”

Diana and Arthur choked looking at Clark in horror, “14!?!?!”

Both Bruce and Barry raised an eye at him in judgement. Like they’re ones to talk with how young they let their mentees join the field.

“It is decided. She will be traveling with me to Themyscira and to Atlantis when Arthur puts on his ‘big boy pants’. She requires extra support in this matter.”

“14? Extra support? Diana, what are you talking about? She is in her 20’s not 14. You can’t kidnap Clark’s sister, Can she?”

Barry looked perplexed by the situation. Unsure on what they are talking about. She seemed to be fine and had survived years without assistance and knowing about their identities. Going to Themyscira and Atlantis would not help with that.

Staring at Clark with an unnerving intensity, Bruce answered Barry’s questions.

“She was one of the Parisian heroes. Their leader from what Diana and Arthur are suggesting. She started her extracurricular activities before even we officially did, much younger than we were and Clark didn’t stop her.”

“Oh.... Wait?! You didn’t stop her!!”

Clark was really regretting this BBQ. It was starting to feel more like an interrogation on his big brother skills, a judgement on his mentoring capability NOT a relaxing escape with friends.

“It would explain why Clark was so insistent of a some of the support protocols now,” Bruce mused. “She didn’t let you help and forced you stay away, didn’t she? Your powers, if you got akumatised, had the potential to cause a global disaster and the magic could have hurt you out of costume.”

“If you knew this, why are you giving me grief! And Diana, you can’t kidnap M. She has a support network already.”

“I didn’t. You just confirmed it. And more support can never hurt.”

Damn bat with his detective trickery and throwing his own arguments back in his face. Groaning in response Clark looked at his friends,

“Fine. You can ask but it’s HER choice no forcing it ok.”

After some grumbled agreements they all agreed.

___________________________________

“I hate you,”

“I love you too, Hay Bale.”

Marinette grinned at her brother with a cup of tea in hand. His friends had finally departed more than one had managed to get him to convince her to exchange numbers. She’d agreed to visit Diana when back in Paris to arrange a visit to Themyscira. It scared him how quickly after the initial interrogation and worry they all accepted her. She was bound to provide them so much blackmail on him. Clark was dreading his next JL meeting.

“You did this on purpose.”

“Not really. Ma knew I was visiting her this month. The fact you were here with everyone was just a perfect opportunity which I took up.”

Clark stared at his sister. None of her nervous tells were showing so wasn’t lying to him, not that she would. She hated secrets, and she carried so many with so many implications if they were revealed. As a result, she hated liars if there was not true reason for them.

“Fine. You do realise I have so many shovel talks now to dish out?”

“What?”

“Did you not see the heart eye’s Barry was giving? Or how Diana was constantly trying to get close? And once Bruce had assessed that you weren’t a threat, kept trying to engage you in conversation about detective stuff?”

“Oh, So, errr, they aren’t like that normally to friends?” A faint blush was making its way across Marinette’s cheeks. “I like wasn’t aware. Can I blame miraculous side effects?”

Clark laughed at his baby sister, yeah as clever as she was, she remained her wonderful blissfully ignorant self on flirting which he adored.

“Nah, they aren’t normally that friendly. Didn’t think you noticed and sure let’s blame the kwami, they caused some of this drama any way. I vote for Plagg and Trixx for being at fault.”

#maribat #maribat au #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x ml #dc x mlb #marinette x clark #siblings #platonic #marinette x superfam

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thimbil · 3 years

Text

Having some thoughts about the references and inspirations used for the Bad Batch’s designs.

So Boba Fett is my absolute favorite character and Temeura Morrison was perfect casting. I went to see the 2008 TCW movie in theaters because I was so excited to see him again, even if he was animated. You can imagine my disappointment. Whoever was on screen was not Temeura Morrison. You could sort of see a resemblance if you squinted and didn’t think too hard about it. They replaced Temeura with Racially Ambiguous G.I. Joe. If I didn’t know better and someone told me the animated clones are space Italians from the moon of New Jersey I would buy it. One Million Brothers Pizzeria and Italian Bistro. Not that there’s something wrong with being space Italian, I just don’t think it’s the right choice for the Fetts. The design got slightly improved by season 7 but it still bugs the hell out of me.

I did eventually get into the show later and (of course) got invested in the clones. Unfortunately, they were largely sidelined by the Jedi storylines. Out of the two new main characters created for TCW, Ahsoka definitely got more development and focus than Rex. When they announced The Bad Batch, I was excited to see a show specifically devoted to the clones… at least that’s what it said on the tin. We have all seen what lurks beneath those stylish helmets.

Jango Fett, you are NOT the father.

So who is?

Based on interviews with Filoni, it sounds like the Bad Batch was a George Lucas idea. And like all his ideas, it’s super derivative. The original trilogy directly lifted elements from sci fi serials, westerns, and samurai movies, more specifically Kurosawa films like The Hidden Fortress. For The Bad Batch character designs, the influence is obviously American action and adventure movies.

Now let’s get specific. Bad Batch, who’s your daddy?

Hunter

Sylvester Stallone as Rambo in First Blood 1982. That bandana has become an integral part of the iconic action hero look. You see a character wearing one and it’s a visual shorthand for either “this character is a tough guy” like Billy played by Sonny Landham in Predator 1987, or “this character thinks he is/wants to be a tough guy” like Brand played by Josh Brolin in The Goonies 1985 or Edward Frog played by Corey Feldman in The Lost Boys 1987.

Hunter’s model is closest to the original clone base. If you look closely you will see the eyebrows are straighter with a much lower angle to the arch. His nose is also not the same shape as a standard clone like Rex, including a narrower bridge. It’s certainly not Temeura Morrison’s nose. Remember what I said about space Italians? It didn’t take much to push the existing clone design to resemble an specific Italian man instead of a specific Māori man. The 23&Me came back, and Hunter inherited more than the bandana from Sylvester.

Crosshair

The long narrow nose, the sharp cheekbones, the scowl. That’s no clone, that’s just animated Clint Eastwood. Not even Young and Hot Clint Eastwood from Rawhide 1959-1965. With that hair, I’m talking Gran Torino 2008. The man of few words schtick and family friendly toothpick in lieu of cigar are pure Eastwood as The Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns A Fist Full of Dollars 1964, For a Few Dollars More 1965, and The Good the Bad and the Ugly 1966.

In a way, this is full circle because the actor Jeremy Bulloch took inspiration from Clint Eastwood for his performance as Boba Fett in ESB.

Wrecker

In an interview Filoni lists the Hulk as an (obvious) inspiration for Wrecker. Ever seen the old Hulk tv show from 1978? Well take a look at the actor who played him, Lou Ferrigno. Would you look at that. Even has his papa’s nose.

You could make the argument that Wrecker was influenced by The Rock, an appropriately buff ‘n bald Polynesian (Samoan, not Maori) man. But look at him next his Fast and Furious costar Vin Diesel and tell me which one resembles Wrecker’s character model more.

Tech

Tech is a little trickier for me to place. If he has a more direct inspiration it must be something I haven’t seen. That said, his hairline is very Bruce Willis as John McClane in Die Hard 1988. His quippiness and large glasses remind me of Shane Black as Hawkins from Predator 1987. In terms of his face, he looks a but like the result of McClane and Hawkins deciding to settle down and start a family. Although, Tech’s biggest contributors are probably just everyone on TV Trope’s list for Smart People Wear Glasses.

And finally,

Echo

Oh Echo. Considering he wasn’t created for the Bad Batch, he probably wasn’t based on a particular character or movie. But if I had to guess, his situation and appearance remind me a lot of Alex Murphy played by Peter Weller in Robocop 1987. However, Robocop explored the Man or Machine Identity Crisis with more nuance, depth, and dignity. Yikes.

The exact tropes and references used in The Bad Batch have been done successfully with characters who aren’t even human. Gizmo from Gremlins 2: The New Batch 1990 had a brief stint with the Rambo bandana. I could have picked any number of characters for Defining Feature Is Glasses but here is the most cursed version of Simon of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Suffer as I have. Marc Antony with his beloved Pussyfoot from Looney Tunes has the same tough guy with a soft center vibe as Wrecker and his Lula (also a kind of cat). Hell, in the same show we have Cad Bane sharing Cowboy Clint Eastwood with Crosshair. I actually think Bane makes a better Eastwood which is wild considering Crosshair has Eastwood’s entire face and Bane is blue.

So we’ve established you don’t need your characters to look exactly like their inspirations to match their vibe. So why go through the trouble and cost of creating completely new character designs instead of recycling and altering assets they already had on hand? Just slap on a bandana, toothpick, goggles, and make Wrecker bigger than the others while he does a Hulk pose and you’re done. Based on the general reaction to Howzer it would have been a low effort slam dunk crowd pleaser.

But they didn’t do that.

So here’s the thing. I like the tropes used in The Bad Batch. I am a fan of action adventure movies from the 80s-90s, the sillier the better. I am part of the Bad Batch’s target audience. Considering what I know about Disney and Lucasfilm, I went in with low expectations. I genuinely don’t hate the idea of seeing references to these actors and media in The Bad Batch. I don’t think basing these characters on tropes was a bad idea. If anything it’s a solid starting point for building the characters.

The trouble is nothing got built on the foundation. The plot is directionless, the pacing is wacky, and the characters have nearly no emotional depth or defining character arcs. They just sort of exist without reacting much while the story happens around them. But I can excuse all of that. You don’t stay a fan of Star Wars as long as I have not being able to cherrypick and fill in the gaps. This show has a deeper issue that shouldn’t be ignored.

Why do the animated clones bear at best only a passing resemblance to their live action actor? In interviews, Filoni wouldn’t shut up but the technological advancements in the animation for season 7. So if they are updating things, why not try to make the clones a closer match to their source material? Why did they have to look like completely different people in The Bad Batch to be “unique”? Looking like Temeura Morrison would have no bearing on their special abilities and TCW proved you can have identical looking characters and still have them be distinct. In fact, that’s a powerful theme and the source of tragedy for the clones’ narrative overall.

Here’s Filoni’s early concept art of Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter. (Interesting but irrelevant: Wrecker seems to have a cog tattoo similar to Jesse’s instead of a scar. Wouldn’t it have been funny if they kept that so when they met in season 7 one if them could say something like “Hey we’re twins!” That’s a little clone humor. Just for you guys 😘)

None of these drawings look like the clones in TCW, much less Temeura Morrison. Let’s be generous. Maybe Filoni struggles with drawing a real person’s likeness, as many people do. But he had to hand this off to other artists down the line whose job specifically involves making a stylized character resemble their actor. Yet the final designs missed the mark almost as much as this initial concept. Starting to seem as if the clones looking more like Temeura Morrison was never even on the table. It wasn’t a lack of creativity, skill or technical limitations on the part of the creative team. I don’t think there is an innocent explanation. They went out of their way to make the final product exactly how we got it.

This goes beyond homage. They could have made the same pop culture references and character tropes without completely stripping Temeura Morrison from the role he originated. It was a very purposeful choice to replace him with more immediately familiar actors from established franchises and films. It wouldn’t shock me if Filoni, Lucas, and anyone else calling the shots didn’t even think hard or care enough about the decision to immediately recognize a problem. And I don’t think they believed anyone else would either. At least no one whose opinion they cared about. Those faces are comfortingly familiar and proven bankable. They are what we’re all used to seeing after all. They’re white.

Lack of imagination, bad intentions, or simple ignorance doesn’t really matter in the end. The result is the same. Call it what it is. They replaced a man of color with a bunch of white guys. That’s by the book garden variety run of the mill whitewashing. There’s no debate worth having about it. For a fanbase that loves to nitpick things like whether or not it’s in character for Han to shoot first or Jeans Guy in the Mandalorian, we sure are quick to find excuses for clones who look nothing like their template. Why is that? If you don’t see the problem, congratulations. Your ass is showing. Pull your jeans up.

#star wars #the bad batch #unwhitewashtbb #wrecker #crosshair #tech #hunter #echo

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snowstark · 3 years

Note

This has been done to death i know BUT I'm a sucker for it - thoughts on Tony working on Bucky's arm

this one will always be a fav headcanon of mine dear god i'll never get enough of it also fuck civil war that never happened in my universe, this blog is a massive the-avengers-all-live-together-yay vibes zone.

They're both idiots.

No, really, they are. Bucky starts to have some arm problems in the middle of the week, at 9:33 AM on a sunny Wednesday. It's not like he's being stupid on purpose, though. At least, he wasn't, at first. He just really doesn't know what to do. It isn't anything special, just phantom pains. Or something. It'd scared him the first time, but now he's just used to it.

Tony notices Bucky wincing in pain during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He makes it a point to ask Steve to ask Bucky to pass him the mashed potatoes, or to ask Clint to ask Nat to ask Bucky whether he could set the table for dinner (and he can't lie, it's kind of a funny, endearing sight to see none other than the Winter Soldier setting the dinner table for the Avengers). Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, Bucky grimaces every time he moves, and Tony notices. Obviously, he's gotta do something about it.

Tony's not sure whether no one else cares, or if they're all just too dense to notice (probably the latter). He almost wishes that other people would notice, because, well, he and Bucky, they're not exactly on the best of terms. The guy did murder his parents, after all.

But Tony can't just sit there and watch someone in pain. He knows how that feels—to be watched and have them do nothing about it. His hand creeps up to the arc reactor in his chest unconsciously, tapping absentmindedly until he catches Natasha staring. He quickly drops his hand and excuses himself to the lab after that.

It goes on for another week. Tony can't help but feel pent-up energy bubbling in his gut. Why can't the stupid arm fix itself? Oh, right, because it's a shitty arm that HYDRA gave the guy to make him a murder weapon, an asset to their operation. And Tony's just sitting here and letting him be in pain.

He can't take it anymore. He sends everyone who might interfere (Steve, Clint, Natasha, Thor, Bruce... yeah, everyone who might interfere meaning all of them) out to get shawarma for dinner and directs JARVIS to guide Bucky down to his lab.

And when Bucky enters the lab, he feels faint. A bit light-headed. He's not sure whether that's from fear or anger or just nerves.

Bucky's face is stony and expressionless. It's a bit too similar to the Winter Soldier for Tony's liking, and he has to tell himself that appearances aren't everything. He still has a heart, doesn't he?

So, taking a deep breath, he says, "C'mere," and gestures to the seat. Bucky doesn't move. Tony frowns. Bucky doesn't move. And then Tony realizes what's wrong. He doesn't really know what happened, doesn't really know what Bucky went through, but he was told enough to know that chairs that looked like this brought up bad, bad memories— "That's okay. Um, you wanna sit on my stool instead?" He pulls out his stool as he speaks.

Bucky moves.

When Bucky sits, his hands are twitching into little fists, even the metal one, despite the pain that he has to be feeling at the actions. Tony pretends not to see it. He doesn't like his scars, and no one points it out, so he gets it. He knows what not to say.

He doesn't end up talking at all, really. He helps fix Bucky's arm, and the man sits still and quiet, just like Tony expected him to.

Tony lets him go after figuring out the problem with the wiring. The moment Bucky leaves, he begins to pull up a scan of the arm and work on a new, better arm. It should feel weird, that he's making a new arm, quite possibly a weapon, for someone who murdered his mom, but he doesn't... it doesn't feel weird. This is what Tony does. Tony tinkers. Tony fixes. Tony creates. Tony helps.

The next time Bucky finds his arm hurting, he goes down to Tony's lab by himself. It nearly scares Tony shitless, because the guy didn't even turn the lights on while he waited on the stool, but he tries not to show it.

He tries for a light, easy chit-chat this time. A conversation. "So, how're you feeling?" "Do you have a favourite colour?" "Do you like cats? You seem like a cat person."

Bucky answers. "Good." "Green." "I like cats."

It's progress.

Tony continues to works on the new arm design. He wants it to be good. He takes his time.

Bucky comes down to see him again. He turns the lights on this time. He even plays some classical music, which isn't really Tony's thing, but he figures Bucky wouldn't really want loud AC/DC music playing. He knows that the smallest of things like certain sounds can be a trigger.

Chopin's Nocturne op.9 no.2 floats through the air gently as Tony tinkers away at Bucky's arm. And before Bucky can leave this time, he shows him the new design, nervously.

Bucky stares. And keeps staring. Tony wonders if he made a mistake, until Bucky says, slowly, voice low and raspy in a way that sends shivers down Tony's spine, but not from fear, "This is for me?"

Tony tries to keep it casual. He doesn't want Bucky to feel like he owes him anything. He knows the guy also feels terrible about the whole I murdered your parents while I was brainwashed thing. He can suck it up. For Bucky. "Yeah, big guy," he says, even nudging him lightly. Bucky stiffens, and then leans into the touch, which makes Tony's mouth go dry with shock and—and fondness. He's like... a big teddy bear. Wouldn't even hurt a fly. Yeah, Tony's pretty sure Bucky Barnes is scared of bugs. Hastily, he adds, "It's not—it's not completed, or anything, but I just wanted to show you because it wouldn't be such a hassle like the one you have right now. Um, nanotech, and it won't be such a heavy clunky thing—"

Bucky's arms fly towards him, cutting him off, and pull him into a hug. A big teddy bear hug.

Tony freezes, stiff from shock, before he melts into it. Cautiously, he wraps his arm around Bucky. He smells good, like wood and leather.

"Thank you." Bucky's voice comes out raspy again, and this time, there's emotion in it—a lot of it. "Thank you."

"I've gotcha," Tony assures, because he does. This is nothing, it's all easy stuff, to design an arm for Bucky, because Tony cares. It's not a big deal.

But to Bucky, it is.

Touch-starved, he clings onto Tony harder, tighter, until Tony eventually says, "You wanna watch me design it? You can tell me what you think as we go, even."

Bucky finally pulls back and nods. "Yeah," he says, softly. "Yeah, okay." And he sits on his stool.

Tony works, and Bucky watches.

ask me for my thoughts!

#tony stark #bucky barnes #winteriron #tony/bucky #tony x bucky #winteriron headcanons #my fics #my headcanons #thoughts ask game #THIS TURNED OUT TO BE SO LONG #AND FOR WHAT #PLSSSS i just love tension sm

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Note

Can you please do like a sequel of Shut Up where Bucky and the reader team up against Sam????

Oops...

Warnings: fluff!!

Word Count: 1438

a/n: Sorry this took so long! It took me a while to think of a prank that wasn't too terribly mean...

Shut Up!

Masterlist

"Y/N." Bucky whined, his hands holding tightly to one of your own. "We have to do something to Sam!"

You laughed at his childlike behavior. Ever since your first date with Bucky, which went surprisingly well considering how nervous the both of you were, Bucky has been pestering you about teaming up against Sam.

Rather than responding, you pulled out your phone, quickly playing the video of Steve in his Captain America suit rattling on about patience.

"We need a plan first." You laid back on your bed, pulling Bucky along since he still held your hand.

"One: why do you have that video so readily available? Two: I have a plan." He smiled maniacally. "Turn him into a bird."

You scrunched up your face. "One: for moments like this, duh." You answered his first question.

I am definitely 100% in love with her. Bucky's thoughts ran wild.

"Two: I already made you a cat. You need to be more creative." You laughed at his pouty face.

How is he so perfect?

"Like what?" He bounced on the bed, fully embracing the childlike temper tantrum.

"I don't know. We could make Friday only call him Bird Brain for a day. Or make it so Redwing only responds to being called 'toy plane'." You thought about random prank ideas, trying to think of something that would bother him, but still be funny. Bucky looked at you fondly as you listed ideas.

How is she so perfect.

"I've got it." Bucky grinned smugly earning a raised eyebrow from you. "Can you make it so he can only say song lyrics?"

You thought to yourself for a minute before finally nodding.

"Embarrassing song lyrics?" He added, the mischief clear in his eyes.

"Now you're talking. What are you thinking? Early Jonas Brothers? High School Musical? Hannah Montana?" Your smile grew with each new artist you listed.

"Perfect. Now we just have to think of a way for him to eat something we give him."

Bucky was pacing, clearly deep in thought.

"Actually, I didn't need to make you eat that cookie. I could've just turned you into a cat with the flick of a wrist." You grinned at his wide eyes.

"What? Why then?"

"Because. It was more fun to see how paranoid you were about eating anything I gave you."

Bucky pouted, although he had to admit it made sense.

I am definitely in love with this man. You shook your head, trying to clear the thoughts.

"C'mon. We've got to make a plan."

You worked your magic on Sam on a day when you knew everyone would be around the compound. He was minding his own business, trying to watch a movie when you and Bucky suddenly appeared.

"Hey, Sam. How you doing?" You asked with a fake air of innocence.

"I'm hot. You're cold. You go around, like you know-" He instantly burst into song, eyes widening. He threw his hands over his mouth, trying to prevent anything else from coming out.

You played it cool, but the twinkle in Bucky's eye easily gave away your prank.

"What's going on? This can't be happening. Don't tell me it's a song!" Sam switched songs, eyes narrowing. He continued singing, despite his clear protests.

"Oh, it's a song." You grinned, leaning into Bucky who wrapped an arm around you.

I love her so much.

Sam shook his head in response, leaving the common area. He figured it would only last a few hours, so all he had to do was avoid people talking to him.

What he didn't account for was Tony's "impromptu" team building night. In reality, you suggested to Tony that maybe the team needed more time together not fighting anyone, and he ran with the idea.

"Alright party people! What should we play first?" Tony gestured to the massive table filled with various board games.

"I've always loved clue!" You grinned, knowing what would come next.

"Clue it is! Who does everyone want to be?" Tony questioned, laying out the various pieces.

"Who will I be? It's up to me. All the never ending possibilities, that I can see." Sam immediately burst into song, surprising most everyone around the table.

"Oh, I wouldn't say never ending, Sam. I think there's only six!" You patted him on the shoulder, a wide smile on your face.

"What did you do?" Steve asked, eyes narrowing in on you and Bucky.

"Oh, don't worry Cap. It'll only last another..." You glanced at the clock, "four hours." Bucky hid his face in your neck to prevent himself from laughing too obnoxiously.

I love him so much.

"Games and a show. I like it." Nat winked at you, always a fan of your pranks since none were ever directed at her.

"What was he even singing?" Clint stared at you, again unprepared for Sam to answer in song.

"Cause we rock. Camp Rock. We rock, we rock on." Sam glared at you, the expression really not matching the joyous music filling the room.

"He can only sing songs from Disney Channel Original Movies or people who were once on Disney Channel." You smiled to yourself, happy with the limits on the spell. "I do believe the last two were from Camp Rock."

"This should be an interesting night." Bruce shook his head, never one to understand the draw of practical jokes.

"That's an understatement." Steve shook his head. He finally had you and Bucky getting along, so of course you'd do something like this.

"Moving on." You pointedly glared at Clint, knowing he was about to bring up Budapest again. "Let's play a team game next."

"Charades?" Bucky suggested, trying to keep it simple enough.

You all split into two teams, Sam being sure to put himself against you and Bucky.

"Sam, you're definitely going down." You goaded, trying to draw out another song.

"Hey now, We no longer wait around. My team's stronger like weights now." He started rapping, or as close to rapping as it gets on Disney.

"Oh my God. That's even better than I expected." You laughed so hard, tears sprung up in your eyes.

"Disney raps now?" Tony questioned, also laughing at Sam's embarrassed face.

"Yes. Lemonade Mouth. An underrated film, honestly." You nodded, completely serious only earning more laughs from the team.

I. Love. You. Bucky's thoughts were written across his face, but somehow went unnoticed by you.

"That's okay, Sam." Bucky grinned. "Nobody's perfect."

"Everybody makes mistakes. Everybody has those days. Everybody knows what, what I'm talking 'bout. Everybody gets that way."

You couldn't stop the smile from forming you your face, although rather than laughing at Sam's embarrassment you were now just enjoying Bucky being happy.

I. Love. You.

"I hate you both." Sam cleared his throat, no longer used to the sensation of speaking.

"It was Bucky's brilliant idea." You smiled at him. I love you.

"Well, it was Y/N's brilliant execution." He pressed a kiss to your nose. I love you.

"Dear Lord. I can't take this anymore." Wanda erupted, in a similar fashion to the night you turned Bucky into a cat. "I get it. You two love each other. Now, please! Learn how to control your thoughts!"

You and Bucky were wide eyed, stares flitting between Wanda and each other.

"You love me?" Your voice was soft showing how unsure of yourself you were.

Bucky nodded before voicing a similar question. "You love me?"

"Oops..." Wanda hid behind Vision, trying not to draw anymore attention to herself. Thankfully, all eyes were on you and Bucky.

"I really, really do." You whispered, eyes solely focused on Bucky.

Bucky pulled you in for a kiss, heart bursting with joy. He never thought he'd find someone to love him, let alone someone as incredible as you.

"I love you." Bucky whispered against your lips, kissing you between the words.

"I love you too." You kissed him right back, heart fluttering.

"I liked it better when they were constantly fighting." Sam muttered under his breath, earning a punch in the arm from Steve.

"Let them be. They're in love." He sighed with a happy smile. He couldn't help but think about how much Bucky deserved to be happy.

"I don't know if this is the cutest or grossest thing I've ever seen." Nat commented, eyes still focused on you and Bucky's whispered words and soft kisses.

"Grossest. Definitely the grossest." Clint added on, needing to jump out of the way as you and Bucky took off for your room, paying no mind to the many teammates laughing at you as you passed by.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @madewithsebstan

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #marvel fic

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barnesandco · 3 years

Text

Little Hands (II)

Series Masterlist

You, Bucky, and Anastasia pay Bruce Banner a visit.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2021. Word count: 1836. Square filled: “You don’t wanna know.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: More Sad Child. Needles, fear of. So much overthinking.

A/N: Gosh, I’m so glad I got this chapter edited in time. I hope you like it and I’m sorry for skipping out on y’all last week! To make up for it, there’ll be two updates this weekend, so look out for the next chapter tomorrow! Lmk what you thinkkkk

The Avengers Compound is every bit as spectacular as you could have possibly hoped, and yet you’re unable to fully appreciate it because of the sheer absurdity of the situation. Your hand is in the vice-tight grip of the supposed daughter of your neighbor, who happens to be an Avenger.

Said neighbor is pacing back and forth in front of you as you sit in Bruce Banner’s laboratory, with Anastasia beside you while you wait for Bruce to arrive. Ana is remarkably calm, her young features – the round cheeks, still-wet eyes – made mature by her abnormal silence. Something about her makes you think she’s used to this kind of tension. Something about her screams war-child. Perhaps this grip she has on you is the first demand she has made in a long time, the only tantrum she has ever been allowed to throw.

While you aren’t particularly experienced with children, you think you want her to feel safe with you, because it seems she hasn’t been elsewhere. Ana’s eyes flit around the room in the only behavioral indication of her youth – a childlike curiosity, shining in the face of this fancy, new place that gleams like a toy store. Every now and then, her gaze jumps back from the alien appearance of the lab to her father (?) who seems intent on wearing a hole in the tiles with his pacing.

It is beginning to wear on you: both Bucky’s pacing and Ana’s steadily increasing anxiety. He hasn’t said a word to her since he opened the envelope, only asked that you accompany him to the Compound seeing as Ana won’t go alone with him (You would have gone with him even if that hadn’t been so. Though the nature of your relationship is ambiguous at times, the strength of your friendship is not. You’ll figure this out. You won’t leave him alone). Clearly, there is some unspoken memory that has him convinced the claim in the letter is plausible. Neither of you would be here if it wasn’t.

Bucky doesn’t talk too much about his past. He has offered a few of the shattered shards of his past reflection to you in the few night-caped moments you have hammered on his door upon hearing shouts across the hall. Between that, and what you know thanks to Black Widow’s file dump, the big Avengers’ in-fight in Europe last summer, the consequent resolution to the Accords, and Bucky’s publicized pardon, you can guess at the traumas that lurk in the depths of him.

They’re traumas that are closer to the surface of his eyes now, pulled forth by this new life, this little soul that has no business with such dark things, and the implication that this holds. Ana, innocent as she may be, is an insinuation of what else might have been unwillingly torn from Bucky.

You don’t want to think about it, because it hurts to do so, because you care for him, in many, many ways. It seems that Anastasia is also starting to tire of it. With every step Bucky takes, her hand tightens on yours. Fortunately, soon, the door to your left opens, and Bruce Banner enters his lab.

He's appropriately disheveled for this hour in the morning. Under his pristine lab coat, one of his shirt buttons is done into the wrong buttonhole, but his eyes are alert, frantic even, though you get the feeling that this is a man always on the edge of escape.

Bucky lets out a breath he seems to have been holding at the same time as his shoulders tense. “Thanks for coming so early, Doctor Banner. I wouldn’t have called if—”

“You never call, so I know it must have been important. But it looks like I’ve kept you waiting anyways,” Banner says, his eyes widening as they move from Bucky, to you, to the little girl at your side. “What’s the matter? You know I’m not a medical doctor, right?” He asks, putting a work bench between himself and his visitors.

Bucky clears his throat, and doesn’t quite know how to say what he needs to. After a few more seconds of hesitation, in which Banner waits patiently, Bucky extracts the envelope containing the fateful letter from his pocket, and hands it over.

The furrows in Doctor Banner’s brow multiply spontaneously, and when he looks up, Bucky gestures with a subtle nod of his head to Ana. He has yet to explain your presence, but you think Doctor Banner is a smart man. It won’t take more than Anastasia’s tight hold on you for him to put two and two together. Sometimes, a scared child is just that, no matter how unusual.

Most of their ensuing conversation is held at a lowered volume, set by Bucky, probably out of courtesy for Ana. You can hear snatches and phrases, most of them confirmations of things you had expected and some, not so much. Lobby security cam footage… fingerprints… paternity test… serum… blood sample…

By the end of it, some facsimile of a plan seems to have evolved between the two men, because Doctor Banner turns away with a smile and you, taking it as a welcome, stand and approach him. He rounds his desk and shakes your hand, exchange introductions though he hardly needs one, and then, he crouches, the way Bucky had, and offers Ana his hand.

“Hi, I’m Bruce.”

“Ana.”

Bucky steps forward. “Anastasia—” the name is clumsy on his tongue, because he’s scared. You can see it, and you hope he knows you are, too, but you’ll stand with him regardless, “—Bruce is going to check that you aren’t sick.”

“I’m okay.”

“We need to be sure.”

“Okay.”

Banner pulls out a chair, and you’re about to sit Ana down on it, when she pushes you gently into it, and sits on your lap. You can do nothing but wrap your arms gently around her, so she doesn’t fall. The apology in Bucky’s eyes is melted with a sympathetic smile. It’s alright. A child developing an inexplicable affection for you is not the worst thing to ever happen to you.

Ana is warm and a comfortable weight on you, and you hold her as loosely as you can, feel the movement of her chest against your arms with each breath. Her hair is a mix of wool-thick and silk-soft against your chin, smelling faintly of the sugar-sweet strawberry scent found in children’s shampoos. Someone took care of her.

Someone she isn’t asking for. What kind of child doesn’t ask for their mother, past the initial, momentary heartbreak? How has she come to terms with the apparent change in custody, when the new custodian hasn’t?

Whether Bucky is to be the new guardian has yet to be determined. You can see Bruce pulling out a syringe and preparing a vial. You wonder if she’s scared of needles. Bucky flinches at the sight of them, even now. He’s said that his disdain for the cold clinicism of medicine dates back to long before Hydra. Medical equipment reminds him of worrying that his best friend was going to die. It’s the fear he has harbored longest, longer than his fear of war, of gunshots in the dark, of blood on his hands.

Ana shares it. When she sees the needle, she screams, and Bucky lunges forward to help you hold her in place. She’s so, so much stronger than you thought and while you can hold her limbs, her head thrashes about, and so does her torso, making it impossible for Bruce to get to the inside of her elbow.

In the chaos, your eye lands on a trinket on a nearby desk, sitting there like a peace offering, literally beckoning to you. “Hey, Ana,” you whisper-yell, trying not to get hit in the jaw by her head. “Do you like animals? Cats? I have a friend who has lots and lots of cats, and I could take you to see them.” It’s working. You’re out of breath, but she’s quieting. Most little kids love cats. You love cats. “I think Bruce has a toy cat. See, over there?” You dare to lift an arm to point at the maneki-neko on the table. Ana stills. Her eyes follow the hypnotic movement, and the syringe at Ana’s elbow does its job.

When the bandage is put on, you and Bucky let go with twin nervous chuckles of relief and disbelief, and Bruce puts the vial in a machine. Ana hops off to approach the desk, and bats at the paw waving at her like a mirror of it.

“We should have the results soon. I think the others are starting to wake up, if you want to say hi,” Bruce says, taking off his glasses and wiping them on the corner of his lab coat.

“Maybe later,” you say, seeing that Bucky is hardly in any position to converse casually with his teammates right now. Not to mention, it’d be a lot of work to explain Ana, especially before having any sort of confirmation of who she is.

Bucky pulls out a chair next to you while Bruce opens a laptop a few counters away, and an x-ray machine lifts its head behind Ana, who has moved on from the lucky cat, and is stroking the leaves of a flowering plant.

“Peace lily,” Bucky says, startling you. You look at him, the bags under his eyes, the way he almost looks his age right now, and fight the urge to hold his hand. “It’s the first flower I bought for my apartment. I put it in a community garden after a nightmare about the war. Didn’t feel right for me to have it.”

He's talking about the Second World War. The war always refers to his first war. You think he’s talking about peace, and not the lily, after what he’s done. After what he was forced to do.

“It’s not your fault,” is an automatic response, and never enough, especially for the war, because at least he was in his own senses, even if he was drafted. It always elicits a self-deprecating laugh, but right now, he’s too tired for even that.

Right now, he can only watch as the x-ray camera follows Ana around the room, from the peace lilies, to an Amazon elephant’s ear, to a strange sculpture made from Coca-Cola cans glued together by what looks like spider-webs.

Too soon, Bruce calls you over to his work station. You follow Bucky, one eye on Ana.

“She’s yours,” Bruce says, and Bucky inhales sharply. Now, you do take his hand, stroke the metal ridges with your calloused thumb. “But she has disproportionately more of your DNA than her mother’s.”

“What does that mean?”

Bruce wrings his hands. “She’s not a complete clone, but nearly a genetic copy. 80% of a clone, if you will.”

Bucky is growing increasingly uncomfortable, shifting next to you. “How’s that possible?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

#SSB2021 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #reader insert #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel #mcu #fanfic

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dessarious · 3 years

Text

What Makes a Family? Pt17

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

“I’m sorry, what?” Marinette tried not to laugh at Bruce but it was actually funny to see some of her own idiosyncrasies mirrored in him.

“It’s a rather long story. Why don’t we sit?” She led Cass over to the couch to sit, not letting go of her. Now that they were together she was going to make sure her twin got the affection she deserved. Bruce sat on a chair across from them still looking like he was waiting for an attack.

“What was that comment about a magic wielding narcissist about?” Marinette sighed. She really hated explaining this.

“I won’t go into details because until you’ve been through an attack it won’t seem real anyway. Short version is Paris is being held hostage by a man with a magical artifact and a god complex. I’m one of the people trying to stop him.” Bruce just blinked at her for a moment and she could almost see him trying to gather his thoughts.

“And the comment about Cass being your Black Cat? What did that mean?” He sounded so tired. She could commiserate.

“I really am sorry to just drag you into this and I wouldn’t have if I didn’t believe it was absolutely necessary.” Cass actually hugged her without prompting that time and even Bruce’s expression softened. “The artifacts we use are called the Miraculous. They’re all about balance. I wield the Ladybug Miraculous of Creation, it’s opposite is the Black Cat Miraculous of Destruction. While I had a partner that used that Miraculous he was nowhere near as in tune with it as I am with mine and it creates a power imbalance that isn’t sustainable. As soon as I found out about Cass, I was certain she was my other half. The person actually meant to be my partner. If you’re willing of course.”

“Not leaving you alone.” Marinette smiled fondly at her little sister.

“You may very well want to rethink that position once you meet Plagg.” They both looked at her in confusion and jumped when a new voice broke in.

“I’ll have you know I’m a delight to be around. You just don’t appreciate my personality.” She rolled her eyes at the Kwami floating in front of her.

“Yes, obviously I’m the problem.” They were about to snark back at her when Bruce spoke up.

“What is that?” Plagg opened their mouth to answer but Marinette beat him to it. The last thing she needed was him going off on a tangent about how wonderful he was.

“This is Plagg, Kwami of Destruction and Bad Luck. They are what gives the Black Cat Miraculous it’s powers.” Bruce was eyeing the creature warily but Plagg was busy studying Cass. After a minute their expression softened.

“Yeah, she’s definitely one of mine.” Then they just burrowed into Cass’s hair and started purring.

“Her life is not your fault Plagg. And you said you could protect her from the worst of her innate bad luck now right?” They just nodded. Marinette wasn’t sure what to make of this attitude if she was being honest.

“Plagg’s a big softy when it comes to their Chosen. Especially when they’ve been so badly mistreated.” Tikki made their entrance and Cass was watching them with interest. Bruce looked like he was fighting off a migraine.

“And this is Tikki, Kwami of Creation and Good Luck. They are what power the Ladybug Miraculous.”

“It’s very nice to meet you both, even if it’s a bit of an adjustment. I can help you get rid of that headache if you want.” Bruce actually flinched at the offer and Marinette struggled not to laugh. Tikki actually rolled their eyes.

“Like father, like daughter.”

“Hey! That’s not fair. I didn’t have anything against magic itself. I just thought I was a terrible choice for a hero is all.”

“You called me a talking bug-mouse.” Tikki’s drool tone matched their glare.

“I opened a box and you popped out. How was I supposed to react?” Tikki held the glare for a few more seconds before they both dissolved into laughter. It was a running joke between them especially since her parents found out. Her Papa had broken a chair trying to jump away and her Maman had tried to hit Tikki with a rolling pin. Luckily the Kwami had seen it coming in time to phase through it rather than being smacked into a wall.

“And the Lazarus Pits?” He really didn’t sound like he wanted to know.

“Plagg caused the extinction of the dinosaurs. The Pits wouldn’t even be a challenge. Tikki also thinks I’m capable of returning them to their natural state without them, but that’s only theoretical at this point.” Tikki and Wayzz had both tried to explain the process but it was incredibly complicated.

“Natural state?” The question came from Cass and Plagg decided to speak again.

“The Pits were made from hot springs that were believed to have healing powers. The people who made them were trying to enhance that but did not understand the powers they were using. All magic comes with a price.”

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

@moonystars14 @ladybug-182 @elmokingkong @smolplantmum @jessigurl-design @trippingovermyfeet @its-salty-bug @whydoexamsexist @scorchdragon88 @alenee13 @lil-1254s-blog @sturchling @random-fandoms7 @fandom-writer642 @chylou34 @thewitchwhowaited @junarvion @laurcad123 @hakoirii @aestheticnpoetic @aegyobutpsycho2 @sassakitty @swiftie-miraculer13 @miraculous-simmer7 @peachedpocky @misslenamooney @shamefullove @user00000003 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @galla02006 @thestressmademedoit @toodaloo-kangaroo @trinity-1002107 @alessialeone6997 @i-shizen @necromancerflight @astoriaandromeda @devils-wrath

#bio dad bruce wayne #marinette dupain cheng #cassandra cain #plagg #Tikki #bruce wayne

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squiddybeifong · 3 years

Note

Can I ask for the batsiblings reaction to Damian pacing so much he wore a hole in the floor? Doesn't have to be a fics, maybe headcanons?

Sorry for the rather long wait. Kinda wanted to make this a fic

Here's the floor pacing fic

On Ao3 here

Alfred hadn’t outwardly reacted to Damian’s obvious lie as to why he had paced the floorboards uneven, but the butler absolutely took action for amending the tripping hazard in the boy’s room. With the floor repairman on the line and a measuring tape in hand nothing was amiss, of course.

Dick had already kept him up-to-date with the gossip about the two Titan birds, so Alfred hadn’t been surprised whatsoever. His position in the family meant that he’d watched the awkward budding romances of most everyone who’d called the Manor home. Damian being frustrated at his feelings for a teammate was nothing compared to a (very grown) Bruce being moody after Selina rebuffed his kiss while ‘on the clock’ or Dick’s increasingly creative attempts at sneaking around with Kori before the ‘no dating metahumans or aliens’ rule had been lifted. Honestly, watching the pun-laden flirting that Steph ladled out to both Tim and Cass on a near daily basis was more awkward than his youngest ward taking his repressed emotions out on the floors.

Unfortunately for Damian, the butler arranged for the floor repairman to show up during the day. Most notably, the repairman arrived at exactly the specified 1:35 p.m., not wanting to be late when called upon to fix anything belonging to Bruce Wayne.

Why Robin had believed that (like everyone else in Gotham) this worker would be fashionably late, he didn’t know. What Damian did know was that he hadn’t heard Grayson open the door. Nor had he heard his brother head up with Alfred and the repairman into his room. And he especially didn’t hear as Alfred slyly mentioned that he believed Dick’s gossip was coming to a head, if the worn path in the floor meant anything.

No, Damian heard none of it. Not when he was busy brushing BatCow and making sure that every square inch of the barn was properly ventilated so she couldn’t possibly overheat in the approaching summer weather. So when the youngest Bat stalked into the Manor, he’d been all but ambushed.

It didn’t take a detective to realize why he’d been pacing so much. Even without Alfred’s confirmation, it was unlike Damian to avoid going back to the Titans early if he could help it. Batman hadn’t looked up when Robin had elected to stay another week when they were in the BatCave, but his siblings sure had. And while Bruce didn’t outwardly ponder about how intense things had to be for Damian to go out of his way to avoid a certain someone, this new information had Dick positively enchanted at the prospect of his baby brother being in love.

“I’m not in love with Raven,” Damian hissed out.

Jason snickered as he reclined in his seat, his face full of mirth at the flustered crack in Damian’s voice. Cass was sitting upside down with her legs resting on the couch’s back, her smile wide as she took in her youngest brother’s irritated, embarrassed body language (nevermind the barest hint of an actual blush on his face when vehemently denying any feelings he had towards his fellow Titan).

Babs’ smile was wide and cheerful as she pointed out, “Who said anything about Raven?” Duke perked up from his spot next to Cass, immediately adding on, “Yeah, Dami. We thought you were just falling for her?”

Steph snorted, “Falling over those footprints in the floor, more like it.”

Tim laughed behind his gulp of his coffee, sleepily (and loudly) drawling out to the blonde, “A Robin and his Raven. Guess you can say they’re a real pair of lovebirds, huh?”

Damian glared at them all, fighting the urge to pinch between his eyes. Why were all the Bats at the Manor? Shouldn’t they be on patrol instead of bothering him?

Jason clicked his tongue and rested his arms on the table. He met Dick’s gaze, saw the way his older brother’s eyes brightened up with mischief and scratched at the streak of white in his hair. Deciding that messing with Damian was by far the most fun he’d have in the Manor that morning, Jason asked, “So, Lil’ D… What’re you gonna get your girlfriend? Can’t come back empty handed.”

“She’s not my--”

Babs interrupted him, nudging Tim with her elbow, “Do not tell me he wasn’t planning on getting her anything.”

Steph lazily rested on the chair’s edge. The blonde leaned over to rest against Jason’s shoulder, her fist pressed to her face. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek; it wasn’t likely she’d be much use for knowing how Raven would want to be wooed. She had heard of her but she had yet to actually meet Damian’s mystery crush, after all. She let out a hum, “What does Raven like? It’s gotta be something personal!”

Damian clicked his tongue as his siblings were suddenly oh so chatty at Spoiler’s suggestion, their unwanted ideas filling the room.

“What if he paints her something?”

“Doesn’t she like old books? Maybe one of those first editions that Alfred was thinking about donating last year?”

“Wait a sec-- Dick, isn’t she goth? B did get that set of obsidian jewelry at the last gala.”

“Hell, if we’re going that route I’m sure Selina has some nice rings somewhere--”

“Maybe something that isn’t stolen, Tim.”

“Just be honest with her.”

The room went quiet at Cass’ simple instruction. Still in her Orphan suit from her early morning patrols and reclining in her inverted spot on the couch, the brunette somehow kept a serious face as she stared at Damian upside down.

Seeing that no one was going to add-on to her suggestion, Cass blew some of her bangs out of her face and shrugged, “You like her for a reason.”

Brown eyes slyly glanced around the room, gratefully falling on Babs as she piped up, “Cass is right. I really don’t think Damian of all people would fall for someone who’s all about dating mind-games.”

Ignoring Damian’s exasperated lie of “I haven’t fallen for her!” in the background, Steph slumped down on the couch next to Duke. Her face was contemplative, “Then maybe we should invite her here?”

Dick let out an excited laugh the same time Tim clapped his hands and grinned at their resident computer whiz, “Babs could absolutely get her up to speed on patrolling Gotham for a bit, right?”

The redhead looked excited at the idea. Pushing her glasses further up her nose before they fell, Babs teasingly asked, “What is it about Gotham and bird-based superheroes?”

Duke shrugged, a hand cradling his chin in thought. “Not sure, but Dami obviously won’t confess if we’re not around to kick him into doing it.”

Jason clicked his tongue at the possibility of the youngest Bat listening to them and raised a brow Dick’s way, “Any chance at all that she’ll make the first move?”

Irritated at the topic, Damian turned on his heel and retreated to the kitchen. Ignoring the chorus of “C’mon, Dami” behind him (and planning on fighting Todd later for the childish boos that the antihero was aiming at his back), Robin set about grabbing some snacks for his pets when he heard two sets of footsteps approach.

He bit back a groan as Dick practically skipped into the room, Cass on his heels. “What now?”

Nightwing let out a laugh at his brother’s sneer, “You do know that we’re only trying to help, right?” He took a few pears from the fridge and handed them to Damian, knowing that they were BatCow’s favorite. Hearing as Cass opened the cabinet doors to find where the rawhide bones and cat treats were stored, Dick pressed on, “I know she already knows me but it might be easier introducing everyone as a segue into talking to her about other things…”

Cass let out a quiet snort at his suggestion. She shook her head and offered a better idea, “Alfred first.”

Dick tilted his head, nodding in agreement a moment later. He ignored the violent way Damian was cutting up the pears and said, “That’ll probably be for the best. Living with the Titans is one thing; we gotta ease her into our particular brand of madness.”

Tossing aside the stems and peeled off stickers, Damian sulked, “None of this is necessary.”

Cass hid her smile with her hand. Dick hummed out, “You don’t want your girlfriend to meet your family?”

“She won’t be my--” Damian couldn’t say the potential title just yet. He clicked his tongue, “Just because you all think I have feelings for her doesn’t mean she’ll reciprocate.”

The older two visibly paused at his words.

Her head tilting in concern, brown eyes studied Robin for a moment. Damian glared at Cass but she ignored him. Dick leaned against the wall, the worried furrow in his brow betraying his nonchalant stance. He spoke out the obvious, “Do you really think she’s not interested?”

“She thinks I’ve been avoiding her--”

Cass shrugged, “You have.”

Damian continued as if he hadn’t heard her, “--so I doubt any feelings she may have towards me are positive right now.”

Dick let out a hum, “You didn’t answer the question.”

Ophan’s suit somehow didn’t shine in the kitchen’s fluorescent light as she crossed her arms, “Yes or no?”

Damian bit the inside of his cheek. It was quiet in the kitchen for a moment as he thought over all the moments he and Raven had shared, the comfortable quiet pauses between crimefighting, training, and avoiding their teammates’ noise. She never seemed to dislike his company, but she was stoic enough that he could never tell if her heart leaped into her throat whenever she noticed that they were alone.

He suppressed a jump as Cass entered his personal space.

Olive eyes were reluctant as she poked his cheek. “You’re not stupid,” She figured it was progress when he didn’t try to swat her hand away, but she couldn’t keep the beam off her face at the boy’s blush. A hint of smugness crept into her voice, “So she is?”

“I don’t know.”

Cass looked to the Manor’s main entrance, knowing that in half a week’s time the entire structure would be full of lights, flowers and who knew what else B’s planners would bring. A spring gala with flowers and enough hidden corners for a pair to get lost in the crowd.

In other terms: the perfect setting for a first date.

She met Dick’s gaze and grinned at the knowing look on his face. His hair nearly fell out of its bun as he let out a whoop, wrapping an arm around Damian. Thoughts of finding Raven a gala-ready dress (and maybe a matching suit) in mind, Dick couldn’t keep the excitement out of his movements.

Ignoring the aggravated yet cautiously hopeful way Damian shrugged off his brother’s arm, Cass clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Only one way to find out.”

#damirae #damian wayne #dick grayson #cassandra cain #batfam #my writing #asked and answered #mistkissedmoon #g o d it's been a While hasn't it? but I really hope u like it!!!#but yeah. batfam is gonna batfam if dami's got a crush. a whole lotta teasing at his expense *but* they are gonna try to help #but its bc they loooooooooooove him. he's the baby bat ofc they gotta get cheesy with it #I was thinking of headcanons but this gives me an excuse to write a first date/gala shenanigans so #I figured why not? I've been slacking in producing ridiculous damirae fluff

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Snapchat Memories and Dead People | The Avengers

Hey my lovelies. As per usual, I can only write when I'm in crises.

Today I woke up and was assaulted by Snapchat with a video of someone I miss laughing; someone whom I know I will never hear laugh again. I think I've watched the video about a hundred times. It's the stupidest fucking video. But the laugh isn't stupid. It's just heartbreaking and fleeting— like the video— and it feels like when the snap memory disappears then he will too and I needed to do something with my thoughts to keep from feeling like I'm going to disappear too.

I hate Snapchat, and I hate missing him, and I hate death, and I hope you all like this piece.

Synopsis: Peter with a camera is either the best or worst thing to ever happen //OR// Snapchat is run by the devil himself

Characters: Peter Parker, James Rhodes, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes (mentioned: Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Vision, Steve Rogers)

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death (nothing graphic), general spoilers of the movies (duh), feelings

Word count: 1.1k

They’re Avengers.

They’re the toughest of the tough.

They’re Earth’s mightiest heroes.

And they’re all huddled around Peter Parker— a teenager, sixteen, just barely an Avenger himself— because he’s the one with a Snapchat and so he’s the one with the video of Tony laughing.

It’s nothing professional— just a flimsily shot picture much too zoomed in and shaking in Peter’s unsteady hands— but he’s there and somehow his laugh is so clear that it’s like it’s coming from right next to them. It’s like Tony’s there too, laughing once more over whatever it is Rhodey had said. They can’t remember anymore— not even Rhodey himself. But they— Earth’s mightiest heroes— are all sure for one long moment that if they turn around then they’ll see Tony, death be damned.

So they don’t turn around— because death be damned or not they don’t want him to leave again.

“That laugh used to drive me mental in the labs. Could never think when he was around.” Bruce doesn’t finish his thought— now he can’t even go back in to get his research because it’s too quiet.

“It was even worse in the air. I’ve never heard another person laugh while getting nuked at.” Rhodey adds. He leaves out the part where he hasn’t flown since he died because he’s afraid of the silence.

Everyone else just hums because the video has restarted and Tony’s laugh is like a command— listen to me while you still can.

They do. For once, they do.

After the fifth loop, Rhodey breaks the reverence. “You got anymore videos, kid?”

Peter does. Peter has a lot of them.

The next video is worse— it’s better. They’re not sure what it is but it’s Clint who talks first this time. After all, it's only fitting when it’s his best friend on the screen this time.

“Kid is that—” he can’t even finish his thought— he doesn’t think he ever had one.

His eyes are locked on the flashes of red hair that twirl and twirl and twirl across the screen. It’s like flames lapping at the camera, so close that Clint takes a breath that is echoed through every other person next to him. He feels like he’s going to get burned— he feels like he’s dead too. Dead people can’t be burned, though, and his entire body is definitely on fire. How the Parker boy had managed to capture one of the rare moments of Natasha dancing he has no idea but he’s never been more willing to pay a teenager for his phone.

“Yeah.” Peter’s voice is airy, not quite as rough as Clint’s, still lost all the same. “This was at the movie marathon we had last summer. Well— five summers ago, I guess.”

No one answers when he trails off. They’re all too busy thinking about time. Too busy thinking about death. They’re Earth’s mightiest heroes and not even they can stop either of the two. They all may as well be sixteen too because that’s how they feel. Scared and tired and sixteen.

Peter— scared and tired and actually sixteen— swipes to the next video.

“So the woman turns the turkey into a cat and the audience laughs? That is funny?”

Wanda flinches so hard that she bumps into Sam. The soldier doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t either. Usually she would apologize but not today. She can’t find it in herself to say sorry these days, not when he’s alive and Vis isn’t. It has nothing to do with Sam— nothing to do with her— everything to do with how little she cares about the minor inconveniences of life when all she’s done is obsess over the major inconvenience of death.

“Yes, essentially. It’s easier if you don’t think about it.” Wanda mouths over her own words as they come— she remembers that day vividly.

It’s all she thinks about sometimes.

“What shall I do instead?”

By this point her heart has stopped— the only thing keeping her upright is the love of her life captured on the tiny screen of Peter’s Iphone. She didn’t even hear him taking the video when it happened. She had been too engrossed in Bewitched and in the man next to her. Some people have tried to tell her that he wasn’t a man but the facts are there. The facts being death. He’s dead and only living things can die so he was alive and he was a man and—

Holy shit why is she thinking about this right now!

“Laugh, Vis. You should laugh!”

Wanda walks away. She runs away. Because it doesn’t take being a witch or woman or alive to remember what’s coming next and she doesn’t think she can handle hearing him laugh. She can’t decide if this is an inconvenience of life or of death— or if she’s just a coward. Someone will hear Vis laugh today but it won’t be her.

Peter swipes again and this time it’s not a video.

It’s a picture.

It’s Bucky Barnes. But Bucky Barnes isn’t dead. He should be. By all means Bucky Barnes should be dead. As dead as his best friend, Steve Rogers, is. But he’s not— clearly. A lot of things that should be, aren’t, though. Like how if Peter had only held his thumb down longer then Bucky could have heard Steve tell him it’ll be alright again. It should be a video.

But it’s not a video— it’s a picture, one of Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers with a timestamp of two months ago sitting in the top corner. They’re hugging and if Bucky squints he can see Bruce in the background. Even if he couldn’t see Bruce he would know that moment anywhere. He will always remember the day Steve left, and then came back, and then died. Well, no, he died a few weeks later. But he may as well have died that day.

Bucky didn’t die that day either but he feels like he did so he may as well have too. He may as well be back in Austria with how little he still understands of the world and of Steve Rogers. And of photographs that should be videos. He’s one hundred and six, in a thirty year old body, but no better than a sixteen year old with an okay camera and quiet footsteps.

It’s not Peter’s fault, though, so he pats his shoulders with a huff. “Good shot, kid.”

Maybe it’s better it wasn’t a video anyway, because no matter how many times he hears it he knows that it won’t be alright.

Lies are still lies when they’re told by Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Death is still death— death is still unstoppable— when it comes to the toughest of the tough.

And even the Avengers get Snapchat memories at the worst possible time.

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elareine · 3 years

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If you could, can you please write JayTim or RoyTim (whichever one you want) trying to be romantic and woo Tim (maybe with some puns, I love puns), but Tim is a bit oblivious towards it, because the other is so cool, therefore they must be trying to make friends and be nice with him and nothing more. So when he does finally realize its an italicized "Oh" moment.

Hi lovely!! Thank you for waiting so patiently for this fill. I... ended up making it JayRoyTim, I hope that's okay? It just fit so well, but I can totally write something else with JayTim or RoyTim for you if you want :)

Also, it turned out to be about pick-up lines more than wooing, sorry. I might’ve gone overboard with googling the puns. It's long enough that I put it on ao3, too. What's your username on there? Then I'll gift it to you.

if you were a transformer (you’d be optimus fine)

“Well, here I am.”

Tim looks up, utterly confused. “I didn’t call for you, but… that’s… great?”

Roy waggles his eyebrows. It looks faintly disturbing. Redheads should maybe not do that. Or, actually, Tim revises mentally, thinking of literally every other redhead Dick ever dated—that’s just Roy. “What are your other two wishes?”

“Coffee and some silence to finish working this case?”

Roy looks weirdly deflated at that, but he does get him some coffee. Tim soon forgets about it.

—

(“How’d it go?”

“Does obliviousness run in the family?”

“Yes. Yes it does. Have you met Bruce?”

“…okay, fair. Your turn next.”)

—

“Jason? What’re you doing here?”

Sure, Jason and Roy have been spending a lot more time in Gotham lately. Something to do with a case, Tim assumes. Maybe even with the one that they worked on together in Star City five months ago?

Anyway. They’ve been around, is what Tim is saying. Not at the manor, but at Tim’s apartment and his workspace, cause apparently it’s not worth rebuilding their safe house after it went up in flames, and Bruce and Damian are too often at Dick’s place. He’s not exactly surprised to see either of them anymore. (Pleased, yes. But not surprised.) However, Tim has no fucking clue why Jason is currently grinning at him from the other side of the library desk.

At least Tim has the good sense to check his name tag before he gasps: “Jason?”

“Oh, hey, Tim.” Jason’s grinning. “Guess you figured out my new job, huh?”

“Yeah.” Tim shakes his head. “Color me surprised.” So this is what Jason’s spending his days doing. He’s gotta be shadowing someone, right? Tim’ll ask him tonight.

“I’ve always liked this place.” Jason’s gaze is far away for a moment. Tim badly wants to know what he’s remembering. Then the older man seems to come back to himself and gives Tim a weird—maybe angry?—look. “It’s a good thing I’m a librarian, too, cause I’m totally checking you out.”

“Alright, I can take a hint.” Tim grabs his book and demonstratively walks over to the self-service scanners. Really. How rude.

—

(“Are you telling me he managed to resist you in your cardigan?”

“Apparently.”

“Aww. C’mere, babe.”)

—

So Roy blows things up all the time. No, really, Tim now totally understands why Dick was so happy when he heard the duo is camping out at Tim’s place for a change. His older brother even gave Tim a thumbs-up, for God’s sake. He must’ve known.

Cause yeah, there’s at least one explosion every two days. Or Roy dropping something cause he’s too focused on what he’s thinking to remember what his hands are doing. Or something dropping on him. Jason seems used to it; he just catches whatever it is or laughs at Roy. Tim… is starting to learn to do the same, actually. Whatever Roy comes up with at that moment is usually worth it, and besides, he’s kinda adorable.

Aaaaaaanyway. (He’s using that word a lot in his own thoughts right now. Almost as if he’s avoiding thinking about something. Hmm.) Tim’s not surprised when Roy walks into a room, stumbles, and slaps a hand over his eyes with a dramatic exclamation.

Tim, in shorts and not much else cause he got drenched in pollen earlier, just raises an eyebrow. “Alright, Roy?”

“Nope.” Roy’s hand is still covering his face, but Tim can still see his grin underneath. “I’m gonna need your name and phone number for insurance purposes.”

“Roy. You have both of these things,” Tim explains slowly, wondering if Roy sustained a brain injury or accidentally dosed himself on something. “And why insurance?”

“I was blinded by your beauty.”

God. Sometimes Tim wonders about the original Titans and their socialization for the two dudes if this is how they think making friends works. Then again, Kori, Donna, and Dick probably appreciated constant compliments about their beauty. It all makes sense. Roy must be so used to it that he even uses those same methods when someone unexceptional like Tim is around.

He smiles gamely. “I’m looking forward to hearing that phone call. Must be almost as great as the time Bruce tried to convince his insurance company that Clark dropping on his car wasn’t an act of God because God is demonstrably not a Kryptonian. Neither was the giant ape punching Clark out.”

Roy drops his hand at that. “…Batman did what?”

—

(“You were doing so well, too.”

“I knoooow. How much more obvious can we get?”

“I dunno, but I intend to try.”)

—

“Do you like Star Wars? Because Yoda only one for me!”

“Haha. No. Star Trek or die.” Tim’s answer is automatic. He’s had these discussions soooo many times with Kon before. Of course Jason also goes for the space cowboy soap opera.

Besides, Jason’s boyfriend is standing right next to him. He doesn’t mean to sound flirtatious with Tim. Or maybe he does, and it’s just good fun? Or maybe teasing him? Tim can’t figure it out, but he knows he doesn’t like the weird hollow feeling he gets in his stomach when he thinks about it, so he changes the topic.

And makes both of them sit down to watch some classic Captain Kirk, of course.

—

(“Should I be insulted by that pick up line?”

“Nah. There aren’t that many lines that imply a polycule, though.”

A kiss. “Alright.”)

—

One of the things Jason and Tim have in common is their predilection for motorbikes and fiddling around with them. Not that makes them unique in the batclan; Tim has never spent days quietly working side-by-side with Dick, though, the way he does with Jason. They started out with separate projects. Then Jason saw this vintage Ducati at an abandoned warehouse he was about to blow up and, well… Would be a shame, right? Tim just happens to have had one of these before—regrettably lost to one of Harley’s exploding baseball bats—so he offers his expertise.

It’s not because it means bending over the engine with Jason, closer than they ever are, their hands brushing when they hand each other instruments. It’s not.

Roy doesn’t join them. He’s too polite to say so, but he finds normal cars and bikes boring af. Doesn’t stop him from popping his head into the garage and whistling when he sees that they are shirtless and covered in grease. It’s a damn good look on Jason, so Tim can’t fault him for that.

Roy follows it up with a: “Are you a parking ticket? Cause you got fine written all over you.”

Tim can’t help it; he blushes at the suggestive tone. Those two never stop flirting with each other, do they? So far, he has managed to avoid stumbling over them while they’re making out (not that they’re making that easy—the kitchen? Really?), and he’d like to keep avoiding that, thank you very much. He’s already feeling guilty enough for his fantasies as it is.

“Uh. I should clean up,” he mumbles and flees.

—

(“Dammit.”

“…do you think that was a rejection?”

“Nah. He was definitely checking me out before you came and fucked it up.”

“That’s saying something if you noticed it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”)

—

So Tim has magically acquired cat ears and a very fluffy tail. Don’t ask. They’re gonna go away in eight hours, and until then, he’s gonna stay in the cave and work himself to distraction. Jason seems intent on keeping him company, though.

(It’s nice. Tim loves hanging out with Jason—that’s not the problem. The issue is that Tim is looking ridiculous, and Jason is being nice about it, and none of this is helping his stupid crush go away.)

They’re absently chatting about nothing until Jason says: “Kinda a pity you’re a cat, though.”

Tim looks up. Huh? Admittedly, he never pegged Jason as the type to go for catboys (though maybe… he did hang out with Kyle… perhaps it’s just that he definitely doesn’t go for Tims), but that’s still a weird pronouncement.

Jason is grinning. “If you were a chicken, you’d be impeccable.” He pauses. “Wait. Like even more than you already are. Uh.”

Tim sighs. Great. And now Jason is making fun of him again. “Whatever.”

—

(“A chicken?”

“Shut up. I panicked.” A sigh. “He was so cute with these ears.”

“…yeah, he was.”)

—

“You must be tired. You’ve been running through my mind all night.”

“I’m not tired,” Tim says automatically. Why does everyone keep asking him that tonight? Surely the shadows under his eyes can’t be that bad? He used concealer!

Something in Roy’s expression softens. “Aww. C’mere.” He pats the space on the couch next to him, and when Tim sits down, Roy pulls him half of on top of him and into a hug. “Relax for a bit, little bird.”

Tim sinks into the embrace, boneless all of a sudden. Roy just has that effect on him. Tim vaguely remembers thinking of him as his oldest brother’s cool friend and then Jason’s cool boyfriend, kind of a fuckboy but clearly good for Jay.

Now? Now, Roy just makes him feel safe.

—

(“So you spent the night on the couch just so he could sleep in your arms?”

“Yeah. Totally worth it.”

“Duh.”

“I just wish we could do that with him every night. Bet he fits perfectly between us.”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“We might have to up the ante or switch tactics.”)

—

They’re talking about their favorite books—Tim doesn’t read as much as Jason does, but they discovered a shared love of sci-fi weeks ago—when Tim says: “Actually, that book kinda reminds me of you.”

“Oh?”

“Overly dramatic but good.”

Jason makes an offended noise, and Tim grins.

“I’m not sure which part I should argue about first.” Jason pretends to think.

Tim is always down to tell Jason that fuck his self-perception—Jason is a good man, one of the best Tim knows; that also feels too revealing right now. Instead, he gets up from their comfortable position on the couch and grabs the first stack on the table, carrying them over to the shelves to replace the gaps. “What kind of book would I be?”

“Babe, if you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

“Annoying and no one reads it?” Tim asks without turning around, trying to ignore the babe. That’s. That’s gotta be a slip of the tongue, right? Force of habit from spending so much time with Roy?

“No, fine,” and the emphasis is clear this time. Jason continues before Tim can reply: “Though if we’re talking books…”

Tim whirls around. “Save it. You don’t have to make fun of me just because I—“He swallows down the words.

Jason looks alarmed. “Tim—“

As if he can smell trouble, Roy chooses that moment to enter the room. Tim has barely heard him approach, Jesus. He doesn’t want to have this argument in front of Roy, though, so he just stands there in the middle of the room. Jason, too, has stopped speaking.

Roy, of course, takes one look at the awkwardness and decides to make it worse. Or more confusing.

“Did you just come out of the oven?” he asks.

“As this isn’t Hansel and Gretel, no, I didn’t.” Tim checks his shirt, just in case this is an actual conversation opener and not just a weird attempt at a distraction. “Do I have soot on me?”

“Nope.” Roy shakes his head, and he’s smiling that smile again, the one Tim is startled to recognize, the one he thought is reserved only for Jason— “Because you’re hot.”

And finally, Tim gets it. “Me?”

“Yes, Tim.” Roy’s moving in closer. “You.”

There’s a soft touch to Tim’s shoulder, and Tim whirls around, expecting Jason to be mad, cause his boyfriend is—is hitting on Tim, right, that’s what’s happening, Jason can’t be happy—

Jason is smiling down at him. His hand is still resting on Tim’s shoulder, but it slides down to his collar bone, a gentle presence as he murmurs: “You’re so beautiful that you made forget my pick up line.”

Oh. Oh.

Tim says the first thing he can think of: “Are you a raisin?”

Jason starts grinning. “I’m not even gonna qualify that with an answer.”

Tim smiles back. “Cause you’re raising my hopes for a kiss right about now.”

And he gets one. And then another, and then Roy joins in, kissing Tim’s neck and then his mouth and—Yeah.

They’re too busy for any more pick up lines right now.

#elareine writes #jayroytim

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