#bruce: i am just trying to make sure you each have your own space. and that you feel secure in using those spaces.

[superbat-lmao]

That one WFA panel where all the batkids are sleeping in the living room and Bruce is like, “A house full of bedrooms…” (implied: and this is where they choose to sleep?)

It’s similar to this new generation of parents who were bedroom kids raising living room kids. Like, we have a ton of people who have spent their lives avoiding their parents/family members and common spaces in the house only to raise children that feel so safe in those spaces that their parents are honestly confused. They don’t realize how safe of a person they are for their kids and how that is the point of being in common spaces. Or that their kids could honestly want to be around them and not hiding in their rooms.

Bruce is literally a bedroom kid raising living room kids. He spent time in his room as a kid because the manor felt too big, too empty. It reminded him he was alone. But his kids seek out the common areas because it’s the only place that’s big enough for all of them. Could you imagine trying to fit all the batkids into a single bedroom, even if they’re enormous? People will still end up on the floor. But the sitting room has enough couches, chairs, and floor pillows for everyone.

Bruce thinks there’s something wrong with his kids rooms, that when they come to stay at the manor they barely use them. It takes a while for him to realize that if his kids wanted to be alone or needed space, they wouldn’t drop by the manor. He doesn’t need to keep offering to redecorate their rooms or remodel the family wing of the manor. He just needs to sit on the couch with them and enjoy it.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

the reader has each time that a member of her family tries to create a bond with her:I am not your pet, I never liked you, I don't care about you I won't wait for you. I hate you.

Yum, good soup!

They'll do anything to spend time with him. Bruce has never watched anime in his life, but you love *Ouran High School Host Club* and *Soul Eater*. With no choice, you watch with him, only for him to ask fifty or more questions. And you always end up leaving him behind in the dust. But he's trying; you're still his baby, even if you side with him like that.

Dick always wanted to help you out with your like a big brother should, showing you the way, but you growl like a wild animal if he gets close to curls. Sure, you let him put growth oil in your cornrows, but that's all he'll ever do. You avoid that man like he has cheese touch.

Jason hasn't been a teen in forever, maybe reading a comic or two and bonding with you about how stupid comics draw women or how ugly the super-realistic style is, just for readers to roll their eyes every time he speaks. Why is he talking to me? Come on, laugh at his jokes; he knows you, he's funny. Come on giggle!

Tim, you both are nerds. Why don’t you guys play some D&D? "Nah, I have my own party." Tekken 8? Nah, you prefer MK. Come on, just hang out with him! Geeks stick together, but for some reason, you’d rather play with random online players. He’s literally the superior player, and he’s way cooler and funnier, so don’t ditch him for your friends—he's a better rival!

Damian, please, oh, please let him hang out with you. Let him be a little brother; let him ride on your back. Let him play video games with you. Let him come to your room when he has a nightmare, but you refuse; you blow him off like the plague. Don’t tell him you’re not free—he tracked your schedule!

Stephanie, let's go shopping, paint each other's nails, talk about our crazy crushes, go shopping, and max out Bruce's cards. Oh, you're busy? That's cool. Wait, all your friends are hanging out together, and you're going to Chuck E. Cheese? Why don't you let her join? Oh, you guys were planning this and you don't have an extra space? Maybe next time you'll spend time with your favorite gal pal.

Cass will psychoanalyze all the shonen you've ever watched. Even if it's unrealistic and people don't scream for 15 minutes and suddenly get powerful in the show. Oh, Kengan Ashura! Tell her about the lore and all the fighters; please talk to her about it. She'll pose like the fighters and recreate the moves for you. Come on, just hang out with her. She won't talk, or she'll talk your ear off, but your face of indifference tells her you really don't care; you'd rather watch something else. Fine, Cass will watch it with you.

Duke, come chill with him. Sure, you guys have only had two conversations, and so what? You can't have more? Listen to Kendrick with him; why don't you both bond over not liking and hating on Drake? Schoolboy Q shit. He'll even play Doechii's Chromakopia is out. Let's rap to Sticky. You don't fuck with that? Oh, it's cool; he'll listen to whatever you like. He'll do whatever you like! You guys can watch Boondocks together and make random references that only you two understand. Let him give you a retwist. Let him be your brother, but you'd rather hang out with some loser from your school? What's that about?

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 3

I'm on a roll- don't expect it to last :)) but as of right now, Chapter 4 is done, Chapter 5 will be started, and I feel like each one will be longer and longer than the last- hope ch4 was just a one in a trillion thing

First || previous<< Chapter 3 >>next

Sleeping that night seemed to be a struggle on its own, nightmares plaguing your mind left and right. You’d fall asleep for 30 minutes and wake up, fall asleep for another 30 minutes and wake up again, and again, and again, giving up once you woke up at 03:33 am. No use in trying to sleep if you’re just going to wake up crying and gasping for air, heart pumping so hard you could hear the blood running through your veins.

You needed air, wanted something less stuffing than the four walls that seemed to close in around your shaking form. With bare feet, you made your way across the manor towards the garden. May as well try and do something productive.

The garden was loved and taken care of, once upon a time. The plants were dead, the trees dried beyond help, and the dirt may need to be changed as well if the roots have gone putrid and rotten, just to be sure. It’ll take years to bring the space to its glory, to how it looked in the painting, but you could feel it in your bones that it will be worth it.

Diverting your attention from the nightmares to the garden helped ease the shaking, the fear. The more you thought about the nightmares, the more you didn’t know which one scared you the most. Between relieving your mom’s death, accepting she was dead, that you’ll never see her again, that you didn’t even know where they buried her- and seeing Bruce as the one holding the gun, firing it at your mom, at you, and then laughing with glee, saying something you didn’t quite remember…  You couldn’t decide which one you hated the most.

Your eyes trailed the walls of the manor, up to the roof, and back down. You wanted to call him dad, hug him, have him come to your recitals and activities, and have him love you like Officer Gordon said he would. And yet, no matter how close he seemed to you, he was farther away than the moon. You hoped it was just your awkward self, that maybe your anxieties were putting ideas where there shouldn’t be any. Today’s breakfast only seemed to fortify said anxieties.

“When will I go back to school?” The question fell from your lips so quietly, and the silence it created made you sink into yourself. Bruce’s eyes had been glancing at you non-stop, but now they were fixated on you, non-blinking. He hummed, low and thoughtful. “You’ll be moved to online schooling. After what happened to your mom, I feel it will be safer for you to stay inside the manor for a while”

“For forever.” The shadows hissed in his ear, but Bruce simply cleared his throat, checked his watch, and left, Richard following soon after at the man’s nudging. Bruce will drive Dick to school. Your eyes remained on your plate as they left, remaining quiet for a while.

“Mama said I should make friends.” Your teary eyes met Alfred’s again as your lip trembled. “How will I make friends if I can’t go outside?” The older man’s hands were rubbing together behind his back. He felt as inexperienced as when Bruce was a toddler, as unsure of what to do as when he was with his father. That was a rare feeling for the man.

With a soft sigh and a shaky hand placed on the young kid’s shoulder, Alfred did what he did best. “I am sure you will have many opportunities to make friends, young miss.” He lied. You knew he was, and yet you held onto the hope. Bruce said it’ll only be for a while- so maybe, just maybe, in high school, you’ll have tons of friends.

You finished your plate, eyes still wet, but at least you didn’t cry. Your insistence to help Alfred was only met with a soft smile and a shake of his head, the man insisting on you enjoying the free time you have, telling you that perhaps you should go and buy some clothes, some decorations for your room.

Again, you mentioned the insanity of leaving a kid to buy whatever they wanted, but Alfred only laughed. “Can- is there a laptop I can use? Mama always let me on hers when we ordered something online. It’ll be easier for me…” You asked so softly, almost going into rambling as anxiety of sounding like a brat, like you were ungrateful for the phone, settled in.

Alfred didn’t even blink, no muscle on his face twitched as he only nodded, saying he’ll bring one to your room straight away. That was easier than expected. You were so used to your mom saying no, or bargaining with her for new shoes, and you understood- you didn’t have that much money, could barely scrap by… But the way the Waynes threw money around felt irresponsible. Does Bruce truly make that much money that he doesn’t have to worry about losing his home? What if he loses it all one day? Does he have a savings account? Your tummy didn’t feel good worrying about all that, mama always said that only adults should worry about money.

You don’t think your mom would like Bruce very much. That thought filtered through your brain for quite a while as you looked up how to take care of a garden and specific plants you wanted to see bloom. He was so cold, distant, creepy, and secretive. Your mother always dreamed of a loving man, strong but gentle. You never understood why she put up with the men she hung out with considering they were exactly like Bruce.

Alfred interrupted your musing as he knocked, opening the door only when he heard your voice. He left the laptop and its charger on the desk, and his only words were to inform you of the timetable for eating.  “But, of course, if you get hungry before then, you’re more than welcome to the kitchen, young miss.” And he left just as fast as he came, barely having the time to ask where your mother would be buried. You doubted Bruce would hold a funeral for her. Alfred just said he’ll look into it.

With a small huff, you went and plugged the charger into the wall and laptop before opening it. Bruce gave you the card to use, and if he can’t be bothered to go with you to stores, you can surely get whatever you want. He’s so rich, you can bleed him dry a bit.

In the end, you didn’t. You felt too guilty about buying clothes and things for the garden, so your desires for those shiny metallic watercolors and 360 markers were exchanged for a few sketchbooks and graphite pens. Your mother is rolling in her grave at how much you spent, you were sure, so you rationalized the guilt to simply wanting to perfect your skills before buying those fancy things.

You got the clothes a size or two bigger, just like mami did, so they’ll fit you for longer. Simple things, pajamas, socks, underwear, and a few pairs of jeans and T-shirts, things she’d buy for you since you were unsure of what you were supposed to get.

You hoped Bruce wouldn’t be too angry, he was a scary man now, and you dreaded to see him angry. On the garden side of things, you may have overindulged. From all the tools you got, to the kind of soil, to the types of flowers, to making sure you got beds for the plants. The soil outside truly looked beyond saving. But if he was okay with Richard’s desire for more gymnastics equipment, surely he'd be fine with this.

At lunch, you were informed by Alfred that Bruce and Dick won’t attend dinner. It didn’t surprise you, however, it still felt like they were avoiding you, and it still hurt. Perhaps this will be the new normal, the everyday occurrence. Maybe this was normal for them, you were sure high school and work kept them both busy… Will they ever have time for you?

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae Forgot the tags D: my bad

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Trying to do it Right (part 4)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

Danny was already asleep that night when there was a knock on the wall, waking him up. He didn’t even think as he rolled over to reply to Damian’s wordless question and knock back that he could come in. Glancing at his phone he saw that it was past 1 am, Damian must have had a nightmare to be calling at this time. But that was when they usually sought each other out now that they didn’t need each other as a constant back-up to feel secure.

Danny forced himself to wake up a bit more and move over as Damian slid inside and closed the door after him, making room for his brother in bed. “What’s the matter Akhi?” He asked softly as he offered his hand, Damian reached out and took his wrist. “Nightmare?” The slight movement of a nod just visible in the dark. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Damian didn’t respond right away but he didn’t shake his head so Danny lay still and silent and waited for Damian to carefully organize his thoughts before he spoke. Damian had been getting better at considerate communication but it often meant he needed to be given the space to think before he spoke.

“I dreamed you went away,” Damian murmured, his knife callused fingers twitching around Danny’s wrist. “I didn’t know where, but I knew you were gone, and you hadn’t been taken. You left us.”

Danny swallowed the lump in his throat only for it to settle like a stone in his gut as he reached over to cover Damian’s hand with his own. “I would never leave you Damian, I promise.”

“But you are drifting away, and I feel like you’re keeping secrets. You’re good at it, but we’re still twins. I’m not even sure but… Danyal are you keeping secrets?” Damian asked, and god he sounded so young and so vulnerable.

Danny opened his mouth to answer, to laugh it off and tell Damian he hates being called Danyal. But he was so serious, and the call back to the name Danny always associated with his assassin routes, his darker side, it made the lie catch in his throat. The silence stretched to long and gave away the answer. Yes, he was keeping secrets.

“Danny, please,” Damian said and the edge of desperation in it was to much. Danyal hushed him.

“Damian, we trust each other, right? And you know I would never do anything to help the league if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m… working on something, and I’m not ready to talk about it with anyone, not even you. But I promise it’s not anything bad, and I promise I’m not leaving. Please can that be enough for now?”

The silence stretched between them for a long time but then Damian nodded. “Yes, that can be enough for now. But be careful, you’ve always been too independent for your own good.”

Danny couldn’t help but laugh at the idea because it was true. The league of assassins could pretend to value independence all it wanted, it didn’t really. They really taught people to follow orders, and Damian had always been better at that then Danyal. “I know, I’ll be careful. Thank you Dami, I’m sorry I worried you.”

Damian gave an annoyed huff and shifted a little closer, muttering something that sounded dangerously close to ‘whatever’. Danny bit back a soft laugh and took a deep breath so he could speak without the amusement showing in his voice. “I am getting tired of keeping secrets though. I know that Dad wouldn’t be happy with me telling anyone about the bats so I won’t. But I’d like to tell Sam and Tucker about our history, leaving out everything about batman and stuff. Is that okay with you Dami?” He asked softly, it was both of their story after all. He would probably tell them either way honestly but he would feel a lot better if Damian agreed.

Damian paused as he considered it, Danny didn’t rush him, maybe if he did he’d be more likely to get the answer he wanted. But Damian would also be more likely to have second thoughts and bring it up to Bruce. “They’re your friends and you trust them. You can tell them. It’s not like a pair of normal children can do with that information anyway,” Damian grumbled.

Danny chuckled at that answer but nodded. “That’s true. Thank you, for agreeing and for trusting me. I know we don’t like to say it, but I love you.”

Damian huffed and muttered something Danny couldn’t hear but could guess was reciprocating.

Danny stayed awake for a while after that, even after Damian’s breathing evened out into the pattern of sleep. Danny should have known Damian would figure something out, but he had accepted not knowing for now. Danny would have to be careful, he knew that Damian wouldn’t forget but as long as Danny didn’t draw attention they were both very good at ignoring things like this. As long as he didn’t tell Father.

And if he did… Danny didn’t know, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it, he’d just have to trust Damian. Though his inability to fall back to sleep didn’t seem like a good sign.

The next day he was tired he woke Damian up and sent him back to his room so they could both get ready for school. He almost wanted to tell Alfred he wasn’t feeling well and stay home but he needed to talk to Sam and Tucker. With Damian catching on to his lie he needed to get everything set up as soon as possible more then ever and for that he would need their help.

Thankfully that day was an assembly for most of the afternoon, one of those stupid anti-drug things that were all too easy to sneak out of. It helped that the librarian was sympathetic to their cause and didn’t mind them hiding out in a back corner of the schools overly large library as long as he had plausible deniability. It was really the perfect chance to talk to them about what he needed from them in all of this.

They found a seat at a table near the back of the library where they couldn’t be seen from the door. They chatted quietly while the place cleared out, then most of the lights were turned off and the door was closed. Danny got up from the table for a moment and wandered around a little, just to double check that they were alone, pulling out one of his family’s gadgets to do a sweep for any bugs.

“What’s that?” Tucker asked as Danny came back to the table, sweeping the detector back and forth around them one more time.

“It’s a scanner,” He said absently.

“It looks like something the Bats would use,” Sam said suspiciously.

“The Colony does not have a monopoly on technology,” Danny scoffed before confirming they weren’t being listening to and pocketed the scanner again. “Alright, no one’s listening to us, I need to talk to you guys about something.”

“Are you coming out of the closet?” Tucker asked, probably trying to make a joke to lighten the mood but it fell flat because he was nervous.

“Tucker shut up,” Sam muttered, glaring at him before looking back at Danny. “What is it Danny? Whatever it is you know we have your back.” She said it with a firmness and a stubborn set to her jaw that said more then she realized. Danny knew they’d picked up on his… code switching, his flattery, and his duplicitousness. They knew him better then most people, they’d seen darker sides to him and probably knew that whatever was coming it was probably going to be fucked up.

“I’m tired of keeping secrets from you two,” Danny said folding his hands on the table. “I still have to keep some but I’ll start okay? And you’ll have an I Owe You for the rest of it, as soon as I think it’s safe to share.” Or as soon as he needed something else but he kept that to himself as he looked back and forth between Sam, who looked steadfast and sullen, and Tucker who was fidgeting nervously.

“You know the media story, about our grandfather being abusive to me and Damian, and that isn’t a lie but it isn’t the full truth. Our grandfather wasn’t just an old man, he was called the Demon Head, he was the leader of a cult called The League of Shadows. An organization that trained or included just about every assassin for hire on the market,” He leaned forward against the table, staring down at his hands. “Damian and I were groomed to be his heirs, trained from the time we could walk. He was better at the violence, I was better at the subterfuge.

“In the end it was my skills that saved us, carefully planting the seeds with mother and grandfather that even if father was… well Brucie Wayne, there was a lot we could learn from being temporarily under his care. About business, and the outside world, and if one of us could become his heir, well, just imagine what the Shadows could do with all that money and influence.” He fidgeted, rubbing the back of his foot against the opposite calf.

“I didn’t even tell Damian what I was doing because at the time, he believed grandfather. I mean, we were Children, raised in a cult! But I never intended for us to go back, and now Damian agrees. The league has made a few half-hearted attempts to get us back, but Father knows enough to protect us and his money and influence isn’t something even the LOA really wants to go up against so we’re safe enough.” He bit his lip, the silence was heavy around them for a moment before he looked up at them with fury in his face, a calculating cold anger he never showed openly.

“I don’t want to be ‘safe enough’. I want them to get the fuck away from me, and my family, I want to take everything from my grandfather till all he is is an old man, not the Demon Head. The Shadows have access to a sort of supernatural drug they use as a means of control but I don’t think they’ve tapped it’s full potential. I’m setting up a lab, underground and secret because even though what I’m doing isn’t illegal I think that’s only because officially no one in government knows this power exists.

“I don’t want you two any where near… any of this, it’s too dangerous. But I’ll be ordering a lot of equipment, and parts to manufacture my own and I can’t send it all to the manor or it’ll be too suspicious, or take me forever. I want to order some of the less suspicious items to your places, and to PO boxes around Gotham too, and when you can if you could pick up some of that stuff for me too it would help a lot. Please?”

The tension build and built around them till Tucker spoke. “Sooo who won the bet? Because he’s not ‘entering his villain era’, but he’s not not going to end up as one of Gotham’s rogue.”

The tension broke at Danny’s jaw dropped and he gaped at them with an expression apparently funny enough to make Sam laugh. “You were betting on me becoming a villain?!” he asked, his voice higher than he would have liked making Sam laugh even harder.

“Ya we were, I mean we know you’re a bit weird and spooky when no one’s looking. Sam thought you might be becoming a villain, I didn’t think you had the stomach for it,” Tucker admitted with a sheepish smile and Danny just had to laugh too.

“Well of which of you was the most wrong I’d say Tucker but I mean, neither of you was right so I’d say call off the bet?”

“Probably for the best,” Sam agreed with a shrug, though both she and Tucker looked just a little disappointed. “It’s not worth fighting over who’s More right or wrong.”

“Okay good, I hate it when you fight. But… will you help?” He asked anxiously.

“Of course we’ll help!” Sam said, seeming shocked he hadn’t gotten that already.

“Dude helping you take down some secret assassins sounds like the coolest thing ever!” Tucker agreed. “Even if all we’re doing is smuggling some parts for you.”

Danny blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the mistiness in his eyes about how lucky he was to have such loyal and brave friends. “Thank you both so much, I couldn’t ask for better friends.” He hadn’t told them about the bats, or anything about the pits, or his own death and resurrection. But he had told them enough and he felt so much better knowing they accepted him despite his past. He couldn’t be more grateful for the life he’d gotten to live since abandoning the Shadows, if not all of their teachings.

“Well Sam was ready to back you up even if you were going full rogue so I think that shows you what sort of friends we are,” Tucker laughed jerking his thumb towards Sam.

“Hey, I’m a ride or die bitch,” Sam said looking affronted.

“You’re parents would have a heart attack if they heard you say that,” Danny teased and from there everything seemed to go back to normal for a wonder.

With their help it took Danny six weeks to set up his lab to the point that he felt safe beginning experiments. There were more things he would need he was sure, but he could at least Start. Well he might argue that he had already started since he managed to track down some arcane texts that he had been studying in the mean time, leaning more about what was already known about… all this. Which really isn’t much honestly.

He couldn’t get access to most of the research the League had done on Lazarus water, but they hadn’t done much of it really, and with the work Danny and his family had done he had most of that information already. What he needed was information on magic, how to manipulate emotions in their essence, how to create containment measures for potentially volatile magical experiments, etc. He learned a great deal, and carefully copied a few of the magical protections into his lab protocols.

One of the books he read mentioned something else that interested him, something called The Infinite Realms which struck a cord in his mind. There was very little mentioned about it besides the residents there having a particular and unique connection to emotion but he immediately started trying to track down more books that had chapters on the subject since he couldn’t find any that were solely about the Infinite Realms. Unfortunately those books would take a while to arrive because they were rare and a little delicate.

Still he had plenty of things to keep him busy in the meal time, including smuggling the Lazarus water he’d hidden away ever since he realized he’d have to work on his own. He’d managed to smuggle away and stockpile a decent amount since then which was good. He hoped it wouldn’t take much before he was able to manufacture his own but he couldn’t be sure.

The first tests he ran were isolating the emotions that were in the Lazarus water and identifying what exactly they were. He wasn’t surprised that the largest components were rage, fear, and pain but he was surprised to find there were trace amounts of just about every distinct emotions in it. The largest secondary emotion was sadness but there were traces of joy, love, and pleasure in there too.

That changed some things, but not his immediate direction which was attempting to remove the emotions. He hoped that would make the waters much safer to use, and could be used to flush out the rage contaminating Jason at the moment. It was a pain-staking process isolating and drawing out emotions, exhausting too because like called to like and it often involved experiencing the emotion he was trying to remove. He was grateful he was so good at controlling his emotions.

Finally after it was all done he was left with… a lump of inert goo. A failure. He sighed and dropped his face into his hands as he quickly did some calculations and tried to convince his tired brain that this did NOT mean all his time so far had been a waste. He had learned something, the powers in Lazarus water were deeply connected to emotions, it wasn’t a chemical that gave them their power, it was the emotions, or at the very least it was the emotions that activated the chemical. He’d already suspected that emotions were the key, and now he knew for sure, he had a direction. He just needed to take a nap, and start again.

He went home well before his family came back from patrol as usual and slid into the cave, asking Barbra if she wanted to take the rest of the night off. He was finished studying and could take over if she wanted, he could take over. He wanted a distraction, something he was sure he was good at to rebuild his confidence, he’d been neglecting his work with the family anyway. Besides if he was lucky he would hear one of his family members swing into a wall and that would cheer him right up!

Barb agreed to let him take over and Danny spent the rest of the night chatting with his family in down moment, doing call outs and coordinating when it wasn’t. Seeing everyone come home safe made him feel much better, and he got to join them for the post-patrol snack, with a feeling of pride that he had been part of the reason they got cookies.

They all went to bed in high spirits and the next time Danny managed to sneak out to his lab he was ready to start over again.

The next thing that he wanted to try was Adding emotions to it. He didn’t really think that this test would be particularly helpful, the idea was that balanced the rage and pain wouldn’t stand out as much. He also hoped that with these additives he would at least be able to stretch the Water he already had while trying to create more. Despite those hopes he had a feeling that that wouldn’t be what happened, especially after his last tests, and that just made him want to find out more.

So he set up the protections just to be safe and then started, at least this time because he was adding rather then removing emotions it involved far less fear and pain. It did seem to be growing, with each emotion he added it swelled a little more, but it wasn’t staying the same consistency either. With every emotion it got thicker and more formed, and once he finished adding the hope… it opened it’s eyes.

He blinked at it.

Two small red eyes blinked back.

“Jesus Christ!” He yelped and flung himself back. The little thing made a startled trill and jumped into the air, tumbling away like a bumble bee before bumping into the invisible wall of the air. Aaand that is why we set up protections even when we think we don’t need them.

Danny edged forward again as the little creature he created bumbled around the invisible cylinder bumping into walls. Getting a closer look at the thing he couldn’t see any mouth at all, it was shaped a bit like a tadpole in it’s body with no visible features other then the red eyes. Red eyes would usually be sinister, but he could feel from this thing that it wasn’t evil, and he trusted what he was feeling.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” He said, reaching into the circle without fully breaking it. “I didn’t know what I was doing,” He said with a wry smile. It blinked at him and then hesitantly swam over to him in stuttering little motions. And that was what it looked like it was doing, it didn’t have wings, it looked like it was swimming through the air. He watched it closely as it settled in his hand.

It was the size of a large baseball, and it looked up at him, blinking with almost tangible innocence. Of course, it had only just been created. He sighed and stepped into the circle completely, holding it with both hands gentle as he examined it. It felt cool, and soft, when he squeezed it gently it made a sort of tinkling sound that seemed pleased.

“Does that feel nice,” Danny chuckled, rubbing its cheek and smiling wider when it closed one eye and leaned into his finger, starting up a hum that was almost a purr. “Oh Damian would adore you! I hope those books I ordered will say something about what you are and how to take care of you. I don’t feel right keeping you in this circle but I don’t know what you are yet. You’re just a little guy and I don’t think you could do any harm, but  I don’t know for sure and if something I made ended up doing harm I don’t think I could forgive myself. So you’re going to have to stay here for now okay? Just till I figure out what exactly you are.”

The gaze the little thing turned on him was utterly uncomprehending as it relaxed in Danny’s hands and he sighed. “I just really hope I’m doing the right thing.

[cetaceans-pls]

Brother I'll File Your Complaint Any Time

for @setsailslash i hope you had a really good day man you're always making mine better!!!!!!! i think you'll be somewhat delighted to know i wrote this over whatsapp 😌😌😌

JayBru, Inappropriate Behaviour in the Workplace, a very horny T-rating just for you kuro!! please enjoy!!

✒️👔🖋️

“Mr. Wayne, you have a meeting with HR coming up.”

Bruce looks up from his work, almost scowling. “Right now?” He’s only ever in the office before noon two days a week, with the tacit understanding that anything short of a national emergency should necessitate a meeting before lunch. It’s ten AM. There’s a reason he’s got lawyers working to lobby for 30-hour work weeks, god.

“In a half hour, Mr. Wayne. I’m reminding you now, so you have a little time. Here’s some coffee, and a cheese steak.”

Bruce smiles. “Janice, I may well kiss you fully on the mouth.”

Janice smiles right back. “This might be why HR wants to meet, sir. And as you well know, I'm happily married.”

Bruce accepts his treats, and gives her a god-honouring onceover. "And as you well know, I would also kiss Bryan fully on the mouth.”

He gets whapped on the arm and a giggle for it, and Janice leaves with a swish of long hair and the clack of heels. Bruce watches her go, and then looks down at his sumptuous meal.

“Time for a good time,” he murmurs quietly to himself, still smiling.

-

At exactly thirteen minutes past when they were supposed to meet, Bruce knocks on the door to the Head of HR, not waiting for a response before going inside. “You better have a damn good reason for ordering your boss to your office, Tedd,” he snarls, making sure he’s fully audible to the ten people working and milling closest by the office, before barging in and slamming the door shut.

Jason looks up with a smile that’s all all teeth. “And you’re late, Mr. Wayne!” he barks, so eavesdroppers (of whom there are so many!!) can hear, but much more quietly he’s getting up and unbuckling his belt. “This is with regards to some complaints lodged against you.”

“And what complaints are these?” Bruce murmurs, warm and smooth, coming in to get lodged up against Jason himself.

“Sexual harassment,” Jason lists out with a feral grin, immediately leaning down to gnaw into existence a vicious, purple bruise where it’s most most visible. “Public indecency. Lewd conduct. Take your pick, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce happily tilts his head back to give Jason ample ample space. “Longer rap sheet than the last meeting. When have I been indecent in public?” And Bruce slips a hand into Jason’s hair, gets a good grip for a good tilt, for a good angle so’s he can sow his own violet bruises. “Hello, Jason.”

“Hey, babe,” Jason says, enjoying his own mauling. “And that public indecency’s for that time last Thursday I got you screaming in the north entrance copy room. Someone put in a note for maintenance, seems like from a floor down it sounded like a rabid raccoon was loose up here.”

“Rabid is an extremely uncharitable thing to say about me,” Bruce says, unbuckling his belt and tugging out his shirt. “And I don’t believe they know what a rabid raccoon would sound like regardless.”

Jason’s already kneeling to tug Bruce’s pants down, taking a moment to kiss the straps of the sock garter on each leg. “Dunno ‘bout that, B, you were moanin’ and foamin’ in the mouth, and you sure were trying to bite my lights out. Rabid behaviour, if you ask me.”

Bruce tries to tip Jason over with his shoe (ineffectually). “See if I ever let you have me in public again,” he threatens (ineffectually).

“Don’t make threats you know you can’t keep, babe.” Jason’s up and tugging Bruce to his gorgeous mahogany desk, chosen specifically because the cheap pine shit he’d originally had hadn’t lasted very long under their combined, uhm, forces. “Didn’t sound upset in the slightest when you were getting your shit rocked and your, heh, tits Xeroxed, did you now?”

He doesn’t give Bruce much time or space to complain, leaning him over and rucking the shirt up a bit. It’s easily in Bruce’s top 5 looks; shirt and underwear and socks and straps, a little mussed and a little dazed (it’s before noon after all). “In fact, Mr. Wayne, it does seem like you’re being purposely obstructive to my investigation into your inappropriate behaviour.”

Bruce laughs loud enough to be audible outside the office (and he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t like being public-like!). “I believe I have grounds to complain about inappropriate behaviour myself, Mr. Tedd. I have this subordinate, see, and he looks at me extremely disrespectfully.”

"Disrespectfully how?" Jason asks with faux-politeness, unzipping his fly and already so hard it'd be dizzying in a lesser man. God, but Bruce should spend way way more time with no pants on.

"I suspect he's having extremely inappropriate thoughts about me," Bruce says mildly, reaching back with one hand to very gently run his beautifully manicured nails over where Jason's getting his own boxers damp. "I fear he's going to make physical contact one of these days. I can't imagine what he'd do to me if he got his hands on me."

Jason tugs Bruce's hand away from his dick (after he shiver-shudder-shakes a little over the feel of it), tugs it up so he can kiss them blocky stocky fingers, before pressing it down to the table. "That's no good, no good at all. I believe, Mr. Wayne, that I should give you some examples of things that you absolutely should report."

"I think," Bruce says, arching his back, "I'll need at least 3 examples."

Jason laughs. "Baby, I downed 2 Red Bulls for this. You might be getting more 'n 5."

-

It's always such fucking loud fucking, but everyone agrees that Mr. Wayne's been much much chirpier at work since Jackson started at the office a couple of months ago. Sure, it's inappropriate as all get-out, but Mr. Tedd broke the wrist of the fucking pervert in IT that would make sure to cop a feel or 10 any time he came by a woman's cubicle to look at her computer, so it's safe to say he's not saying yes because he can't say no.

Also, everyone in HR got gifted the latest Wayne Tech noise-cancelling earphones for, uhm, the Lunar New Year, and it's been strongly implied that it's Cool if people didn't want to use them during the more disruptive HR 'meetings', so.

So.

-

Mr. Wayne limps out an hour later, mussed to hell and back with bitemarks and bruises littering every inch of visible skin. There're alarming wet spots everywhere, what looks like smudged lipstick on his collar, and he looks like he's in pain.

If this didn't happen every week, Marica might be more alarmed. If Mr. Wayne wasn't smiling like a goddamn dope, Marica might be more alarmed. But her cubicle's close to the hallway leading to the Executive Suite; she's used to this.

Instead, she gets up and heads straight to the break room. It's all intricate rituals, is corporate life. Don't wear Nightwing merch (Mr. Tedd is a hater), keep the coffee pot topped up, be nice to the janitorial staff (or else).

Another ritual is this; after 'HR meetings with the CEO', Mr. Tedd will go to the break room, make himself a heinously sweet latte, and Talk Absolute Shit.

"Hey, boss."

"Marica!" He turns to her and smiles, somehow looking like he's got more teeth than her. "Man, have I got some hot gossip for you."

She makes herself a drink too. She's pretty sure he lies about half the things he spreads around the office, but no one's ever been able to catch him out in one. It really adds to the intrigue. "What's the latest?"

Somehow, there's even more teeth. "I heard," he tells her low and slow, "that Wayne's got one his lover secretly working for him. Salacious, right?"

Marica frowns at him (the guy who just did a lot of loving(?)). "Is that supposed to be a secret?"

Mr. Tedd's smile widens. "Hey, hey. It's not me, not plain ol' Jackson Petty Tedd. No, heard it's some young thing, young enough to be his son."

Marica frowns harder. "You're helping him cheat on his partner?"

Mr. Tedd holds his hands up in surrender. "That's a pretty serious allegation there, Marica."

Considering that he's got bruised lips and a bruised neck and, god help them all, he's still clearly cranked enough that you can make out the nipple piercings, Marica can't frown hard enough.

Mr. Tedd softens. "Promise that his hot young thing's okay with all this. C'mon now, you can trust old Tedd."

The shitty thing is that they really really can (sexual harassment cases have Cratered under Mr. Tedd's hot bright loving approach). Marica nods, sipping her coffee. "Who is his partner, then?" she whispers.

Mr. Tedd winks at her, holding a finger to his lips. "Not going to blab all the secrets in one go, otherwise you'll never have coffee with me again."

At that, she rolls her eyes and breaks into a bit of a smile. "I'll catch up with you later, sir," she says, moving towards the door, feeling refreshed (though perhaps not as refreshed as Mr. Wayne).

"Don't leave just like that, Mari! I'll tell you a little more! For one thing, did you know Mr. Wayne's really really into p-"

Marica closes the door behind her.

[reaperlight]

Eddie: It's really not like that. We're just friends!

Dan: That's weird too, you realize that, right?

Eddie: When Venom was dead...

Dan: Did you really miss having a homicidal voice in your head so much that you opened your home to a serial killer?

Anne: Dan, come on. It's not like that--

Eddie: Yeah. And well technically he invited himself in.

Dan: Just like Venom did, right? Buddy, you need therapy.

Eddie: Is that your professional opinion?

Dan: Yes.

Eddie: Well, yeah. I'm sure youre right. But not about them. I'll go to therapy. But they're staying. You got any good therapy recommendations?

Dan: For hopeless cases?

Anne: Dan...

Eddie: ...You know you've gotten kinda mean since you took that job at Imperium.

Dan: If you're willing to travel a bit, I know an excellent therapist based in Baltimore. Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He works wonders. Even for hopeless cases.

Eddie: Huh. Maybe I should check that out. Maybe Cletus and Frances would benefit from it too.

Anne: Eddie...

Eddie: What?

Dan: Anne... [*sighing*] I'll be in the car.

Eddie: Seriously, what crawled up his butt?

Anne: Eddie, you can't deny you've gotten awfully close to them.

Eddie: Well yeah, Venom is off working a lot. Saving the galaxy or whatever with Flash and here I am his house husband stuck between things, trying to find a new writing gig, while worrying out of my mind every time we separate that he's not gonna come home again... Why shouldn't I have friends of my own?

Anne: Maybe because they tried to kill you, they tried to kill us. That is like.. a thing that happened.

Eddie [cringing]: Well yeah. But that was before

Anne: So what's changed?

Eddie: I don't know. They're just real chill now. I think they were just lonely too. And just... didn't know how to make friends. I was thinking... Maybe... Venom's getting a pretty decent salary now. Maybe we could get a better place out in the country, more room for us. Me, Venom, Cletus, Frances, our cat, and we could have more space for Venom so he can adopt some more chickens... or maybe even... kids.

Anne [horrified]: Kids?!

Eddie: What?! Kids might happen. They did happen but I mean specifically of a human variety. That might be a thing that happens with my friends here, and those take up space.

Anne: [*still horrified*]

Eddie: It's just an idea. I have to run it by Venom and Cletus and Frances and Carnage. But in any case we could use more space. Especially if Venom's work friends keep crashing the place.

Anne: So there's no hypothetical scenario where you just... kick them out?

Eddie [annoyed]: Of course not. Why would I do that?

Anne: Eddie... You know I hate to be a downer but you do remember he's a literal serial killer?

Eddie: Yeah but like, he's really not who we thought he was. He's not Jack the fucking Ripper, he was just trying to avenge his wife. Also they've pardoned them now so that's all cool. Look, they're staying. They have nowhere else to go, Anne.

Anne: They're not your responsibility. You don't owe them anything.

Eddie: We owe each other a lot actually. They're my friends and they're staying!

Anne: Clearly since you're planning your life together with them. And buying him an engagement ring.

Eddie: It's not a--

[*Eddie stops and notices Cletus and Frances at the door gawking at them*]

Eddie: How much did you hear?

Cletus: Uh.. everything. Have we outstayed our welcome?

Eddie: No! Of course not.

Cletus: Because if like you want us to go--

Eddie: Hey...

[*Eddie grabbing his hand staring intently into his eyes while Frances and Anne trade disbelieving looks*]

Eddie: Never leave me.

Cletus [unsettled]: I... okay. But uh... you don't have to get me an engagement ring, Eddie.

Eddie: It's not an engagement ring. It's just a friendship ring, bro.

Sales clerk who looks suspiciously like Bruce Campbell: Actually, sir that is an engagement ring.

Eddie: What? But it's black and red. I thought of you, like...

Frances: It does look good on you. I hope you're not trying to steal my husband...

Carnage [manifesting outside of Cletus, wraithlike, and visibly amused]: We can all share, can't we? And he has two hands.

Cletus: [*is visibly flustered*]

Eddie: Okay even if its an engagement ring we can buy it like... as a friend, right?

Anne: [*is so done*]

Anne: So... you're dating Kasady now?

Eddie: What? No! No, of course not! We're just friends. Also he's married. I'm just buying him an accessory since he has terrible fashion sense.

Anne: Eddie, that is literally an engagement ring.

[ynbabe]

The dinosaur- Dick Grayson x Male! Reader- pt.1

Word count: 1,343

Genre: series

Warnings: lime, cursing

Pg rating: All 

Male implied

It had been a late night for you, your boss had made you stay back to help with the upcoming project, and since the holidays were around you had hoped that staying behind so late to help would fast-track your leave request.

You ran into your shared apartment and took a quick look at the clock,

3:00 AM

Man fuck Bludhaven and fuck your boss, you knew Dick would have been worried about you, that's what you liked about him, you weren't family but you  knew everything about each other, you had moved in about a year ago and had become inseparable since. But your weird hours and Dick's day job as a cop and his night outs as Nightwing, you never got to define your relationship.

Yeah, Bludhavens very own superhero was your ‘boyfriend’.

You turned on the tv so the house wouldn't feel empty, after all, you weren't trying to get robbed, even though your apartment was in a relatively safe neighborhood, you could never be sure... ‘Goddamit Grayson, your paranoia's rubbing off on me’, you thought cursing the vigilante. 

You made sure to shut the door behind you and turned on the shower, letting the hot water wash out the stress of the day, and letting you mind flow, finally being able to relax or so you thought.

The second you shut your eyes, you could hear the window shatter and multiple voices speaking up, fighting amongst themselves.

"Oh, this is so not happening right now." You muttered, wrapping a towel around your waist, trying to find something to defend yourself with, honestly the one time you forget your phone on the kitchen counter.

After frantically rummaging through the whole bathroom you could only find razors, Dick's emergency medical kit, and other toiletries, nothing that could help you.

So instead you decided to stay quiet and listen to their conversation, maybe they wouldn't notice you and you would be able to tell the cops as much as you could.

Quietly walking to the door you pressed your head against the moisture-laden door, trying your hardest to ignore the loud rush of blood through your ears and the heavy beating of your heart and focus on the intruders.

"-well we wouldn't fucking be here if you hadn't-" the deepest voice spoke up in a tone of annoyance, you assumed he was the oldest and by default the leader.

"Todd, I am not in the mood for your denial or your blaming and anyways we all know it's Timothy's fault." A far younger voice stated, why was a child breaking into your house? Was he being forced by the older one you had just heard? Did he know what he was doing? And Todd? Timothy? Why did those names feel so familiar?

Another voice scoffed in disbelief, "OH LIKE YOUR A SAINT DAMIAN-" he yelled in anger,

"tch"

"Don't 'tch' me, brat" he seemed angrier, you would be too, the way they fought they almost sounded like brothers.

Wait- brothers? BROTHERS! Dick had told you he had brothers, Jason Todd (you thought he was dead but it was just bat business), Tim Drake (the fucking billionaire, but I guess he did tell you they were all adopted by Bruce Wayne, which made it kind of awkward when you called him 'Daddy Wayne', IN YOUR DEFENCE- you didn't know yet) and Damian.

These were his brothers, you hoped, crossing your fingers, and not just a really unfortunate coincidence.

Finally gathering the courage to walk out of your hiding space, you took a deep breath and opened the door, making the arguing stop.

"Look at least Dick is out of the washroom now and he can help us- uhhhh your not-" Tim, you assumed, spoke up, looking at you shocked and making the others turn their heads to look at you. 

Suddenly feeling even more vulnerable under their stare, you couldn’t help but be terrified of these superhero-shaped intruders in your house.

"Well, at least he's moved on from redheads." Jason, snickered.

But before you could say anything, the tiny one pulled a knife from his hoodie and shoved it near your face, you hadn’t even see him move, making your brain blue screen in fear.

"Kids aren't supposed to play with knives-" You spoke before you could think, the inherent ‘Gotham sarcasm’ surfacing, but before you could finish the boy pushed the knife closer to your chin making you back up to the kitchen counter.

Jason was silently laughing and Tim look exhausted at the antics of the two, honestly, you wanted Dick to come home right now. Screw Bludhaven and its criminals.

"Damian put the knife down," the long haired teen instructed, receiving a dirty look instead of compliance, he turned to you instead, "Dick didn't tell us about a roommate. You are his roommate, right?" he asked trying to de-escalate the situation and since you didn't feel like being tortured by a ten-year-old, you skipped the sarcasm this time.

"Y-Yeah, look I'll call him right now." you reached behind yourself struggling to reach your phone on the counter with the knife still on your neck. 

"I swear to god, Grayson, if you don't pick up, I'm going to kill you," you mumbled to myself as the phone rang, switching it to speaker mode.

One ring, two rings, three- Jason raised his brow, oh come on Dick, I am not dying like this, four rings, five-

"Hey, Y/N/N, kinda busy right now", you could hear the wind rushing behind him and guessed he was probably on his way home, this wasn't the first time you both had spoken when he was 'working'.

"Your brothers pointing a knife at me," you squeaked out, making the man on the other side falter and curse. 

"God dammit, DAMIAN PLEASE PUT THE KNIFE DOWN." He yelled through the phone, making the tiny demon put back his weapon.

"Oh, so you'll listen to him," Tim grumbled.

"How many of them are there?" Dick asked through the phone but before you could answer, he jumped in from the broken window, winded, red-faced, pointing his phone at his brothers and hanging up.

"Nevermind- What the hell guys?" He complained as he passed you a shirt from the couch, you had almost forgotten that you were only wearing a towel due to the fear and confusion.

Jason finally spoke, "Well, Replacement here, had the marvelous idea of- well never mind, what matters is we need to hide from Bruce for a few days." Dick didn't look surprised but you were, you were very surprised and very much in need of sleep.

"Hey Y/N, I'm so sorry about this." He looked at you apologetically,

"Yeah man, no worries, I'm just gonna go sleep." yes worries, absolutely yes worries.

"Night"

"Night" you responded shutting the door to your room, finding your pants, and passing on the bed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 "Seriously, did you have to threaten Y/n?" Dick whisper-yelled at his siblings outside the room.

"Ooooh, don't you mean Y/N/N," Jason mocked Dick, making kissy faces towards Y/N's room.

"Oh grow up, Jason-" He tried to stop his brother but Tim joined in, "Et Tu, Tim?" He spoke dramatically to his sibling.

"Hey, why's Bruce so mad anyway, I mean there's not much that you can do to make him this mad," he asked his brothers as he set up mattresses and blankets in the living room, he had made Jason clean up the glass and Damian volunteered to board the window temporarily.

"Well, you see Harley set of-" Tim started explaining as he helped Dick with the mattresses, "and then Ivy," he continued, "Basically, the dino's gone," he said nonchalantly.

Dick almost accepted it normally, letting it settle before he shouted in surprise, "THE DINOSAURS GONE?" 

"THE FUCKING WHAT?!" came from Y/N's room.

[moider-time]

Don't be shy tell the public abt our Romeo and Juliet bruharvey au 👀👀👀

👀👀 oh y'all ain't ready lol tbh I doubt I'm gonna do this justice (and bestie I am so stealing some of your lines cause your writing?? so good)

Let's set the scene. We have the Dents (Montagues) and the Waynes (Capulets) who are at war in the streets of Gotham. Christopher Dent thinks he can try and step to Martha and her empire despite so many other people telling him otherwise.

Gilda and Harvey recently split and he's not really in the best mental space. Well he thought focusing on work was a perfectly good distraction but according to Ivy "trying to burn out your retinas by reading legal mumbo jumbo is not fucking healthy, Dent!" So Ivy and Martinez decide that he needs a night out so they drag him to a fancy dress party to de-stress. And that's where he sees him and knows he'll never be the same.

Now Bruce hasn't been on speaking terms with his parents for a while. Not since he saw his mama Martha shoot someone. He still remembers how their blood soaked the pavement, their chest stuttering as if not sure what to do. What hurt even more was seeing Martha blank-faced, not touched by the wriggling of the man in front of her. (This couldn't be the same woman who played Princes & Princesses with him - that dressed him up and made him feel loved. It couldn't be. Why is it her?)

So he leaves, gets a small apartment in well, not the best part of Gotham but it could be worse. He focuses on his passion for art and he's not struggling but his job doesn't lend itself to financial stability. Especially not when he has his babies to think about. He still keeps in touch with Harley and when she invites him for a night out with her and Selina and rightfully brings up him rarely leaving his apartment, he can't exactly say no.

So he makes sure Dick, Cass, Jason and Tim are tucked in, kisses them on the forehead, triple locks the door and heads out. He doesn't think he'll spend that long, just enough time to relax and spend time with his sister and friend. And of course it's at this party that he sees him.

Both Harvey and Bruce can agree that they never expected to see someone so pretty at this party. They see each other across the room but find it hard to push past the ever shifting masses so they can satisfy the attraction between them.

Harvey can feel the heat of eyes across his skin, his scars. He doesn't mind when people stare after all, there's no point in caring about something you can't change. He'll always be him, and people will always be people. And anyway, he'd rather have them judge the ones on the surface. The other ones; the scars he and Jessica shared from the tip of their spine to the belt of their waists, those were worse. Those were personal. Those you kept in the house.

When they finally meet, their eyes lock and their bodies graze against each other. Bruce acknowledged him with fascination instead of disgust. As if his scars were a physical trait out of the ordinary, like purple eyes or blue hair, but not inherently disturbing.

"I like your rings," he said, dropping his doe eyes to Harvey's hands. He hated them because they were silver. He started loving them again.

"Do you want one?"

Bruce smiled with his whole mouth, "Only if you take some of mine"

The music shifts so something soft and slow and as they swap rings, their bodies begin to sway and dance. Harvey carries Bruce's sapphire blue ring on a chain right above his heart. A silent promise of sorts. Bruce wears a small coiling snake with a white diamond as one eye and a black one as the other on his thumb and even then it's a bit loose. And doesn't that sight just leave Harvey breathless?

Neither of them know when they start to lean in, when their breath starts to mingle. Bruce, standing on his toes and asking if Harvey's ok with this. Saying it's alright if he isn't, that he shouldn't feel pressur- And Harvey leans down to connect their lips while they're moving to their own music.

Kissing Harvey felt like nothing else he could've imagined. Bruce had kissed a total of 3 people by his age of 29. Selina in middle school, bored and grumpy with having to act the damsel in distress in their school play. Oliver, when they were 16 and curious, scrubbing their lips until they bled and Khoa. The last lover, the love who outlived all Bruce was.

Harvey kissing him now undid 4 years of pain. It awoke romance from its graveyard sleep and spread something lovely and gentle but aggressive and savage in Bruce still. They floated through the music, not noticing or maybe uncaring of the footsteps approaching them. Bruce floated when Thomas dragged him out the door, a snake on his finger and whiskey on his lips. He hoped Harvey floated when Jessica did the same.

[gretahayes]

About your thing on Tim and Jason and "not making space for Jason to come back to the family," it wouldn't be Tim's job to make room for Jason. He's a kid, just the same way Jason is a kid. Both have bee through horrible experiences, they're STILL going through it, and it's not their job o be the adults.

If anything it's Bruce and Alfred's job to make room for Jason to come back. They're the adults and need to step the HECK UP and take some responsibility. Alfred especially needs to get his hands dirty and get in the game rather than stand back and let Bruce take all the flack.

Anyway, that's my two cents. I agree with you wholeheartedly and am still waking up from a late night, so I'm sorry if this doesn't make much sense. TLRD: Tim and Jason shouldn't make space for each other, because the actual adults should be setting those boundaries and creating a space for each of them

(This is like. Pre-reboot continuity. Okay? Okay.)

Honestly, honestly, honestly. Jason was an adult. He was an adult. And I'm not saying everything that happened to him was his fault, but everything he chose to do post-revival was. He was the cause of all of those issues. He kept actively sabatoging all his chances of reconciling with his family, half of the members of said family dislike him because of solely his own actions, and it's like. Because of his own actions, he couldn't be brought back into the family as a whole.

Sure, he could reconcile with Dick and Barbara and Alfred and maybe even Bruce possibly, but the batfam's always worked better as different family units than one big "happy family", and he'd lost himself the chance to be liked by Tim, Cass and most likely Steph as well. Coworkers is the best they'll give him. Him and Damian are- hmm. Didn't he shoot the kid?

Anyway like. Idk. Bruce and Alfred, for their many, many faults with how they've dealt with everyone else, this wasn't their fault. If Jason tried to put his best foot forward and attempt to not be an asshole and all, I'm sure he wouldn't have been shunned by everyone, and if he was, it would've been his own damn fault. He'd have to keep working at it to show he can be trusted, and he's trying, and take however long it'd take for him to be forgiven, if at all.

[staticscreenwriting]

HOME // Bucky Barnes

Request: Could you do a Bucky Barnes imagine where he blips but the reader is pregnant so when he comes back he meets their daughter? If not that’s totally understandable and I hope you have an amazing day/night 💕

A/N: Look, I love writing angsty Bucky. But I also love writing happy Bucky. Hope y’all love reading this ♥  Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

Join my taglist here! [additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Thanos being defeated was not the end of it all. It seemed like it. The grand heroic solution to all problems. The ultimate test before things got better. Before they got easier.

That was a lie.

Bucky looks across the vast area of the Stark’s estate as people, all dressed in black, mourn the loss of a dear friend, an idol, a husband, a father.

That word sends a wave of anxiety and fear through him. He knows he can’t run forever and really, he doesn’t want to. He just doesn’t know how to deal with — everything. How to be the man he needs to be. How to step up and not fuck this up.

Sometimes fear makes you do stupid things, really stupid things. Like avoiding the love of your life because you are too afraid of what she might think of you.

His eyes find (Y/N) as she leans against a tree, lips pulled into a sad smile as Sam rambles about one thing or another next to her. This isn’t right. Sam shouldn’t be the one cheering her up and trying to get her to smile. It should be him. If only he wasn’t such a coward.

People don’t talk about these things though. They only talk about those that had been gone now being back again. They talk about the joy of being reunited but not the fears, the sadness, the disappointment — and they sure as hell don’t talk about the guilt.

The guilt of coming back after 5 years to find out you missed so many important moments in the life of a child you never knew you had.

His eyes wander down towards the little girl holding on tightly to her mother’s hand. She has his eyes, his dark hair, his lips. She’s a spitting image of his younger sister. A Barnes through and trough.

Every time he looks at her his heart beats out of his chest in a way he’s never felt before. When they say that the love for your own child is an instant emotion, they are not wrong or exaggerating.

The moment he came back from oblivion and first laid eyes on her, it felt like his heart had known her all his life. He wanted to hold her and shelter her from all the bad things the world might throw her way. Wanted to kiss her little nose and read her stories and sing her silly little songs. He hated singing but for her, he wanted to do it. Just because that’s what dads do.

But fear is one hell of an emotion and above all, it’s terribly convincing.

He’d never had a particularly good example of a father. It was different times then. Different ways of raising your child. Fathers weren’t meant to show affection, they were meant to enforce rules and order. How could he ever be good at this? He doesn’t have a single clue how to do any of this.

And then there’s the fact that he’s left (Y/N) alone to deal with all of this. Every first has been forever taken from him. First breath, first cry, first word, first steps. Every little thing.

Would she resent him for it? For not being there when it mattered?

So he ran. He came back and he ran.

She doesn’t deserve this and neither does (Y/N). They deserve so much better.

“ It’s time Buck. “ Steve speaks up as he leans against the porch railing next to his oldest friend.

“ Are you still sure about this? “ Bucky asks, not taking his eyes off of his girls. His stomach feels like he’s swallowed a bag of bricks. Life was supposed to be easier after Thanos. This isn’t easy. This is just scary. And sad.

“ That, “ Steve says and nods his head towards (Y/N) and the girl “ that’s your second chance. I gotta take mine. “

Bucky turns to look at his friend trying to figure out what to say next but coming up empty. What do you say to that? Steve deserves to be happy. He deserves to be where his heart always has been. Does it mean Bucky thinks it’s the right choice? Not necessarily. But he understands. Had it been him and (Y/N) he would’ve crossed time and space to be with her.

Which is ironic to think because now all he does is avoid her. Because that’s the coward he is.

“ Alright let’s go. I’ll grab Bruce you do — whatever you gotta do. “

He dares to send one last look towards (Y/N) and this time she’s looking back with a soft eye and a timid little smile on her lips. None of which he is deserving of.

Steve let's go of Sam, parting with one last friendly slap on the back before turning towards Bucky.

Bucky's throat feels dry and rough and while his head is swirling with words he wants to say, none of them really make it past his lips. He's known about Steve's idea for a few days now, has had time to let it settle and come to terms with it. It still breaks his heart but sometimes that's what you do for the people you love. You support them on their path to happiness even if it hurts you in the process.

"I'll miss you," Bucky finally manages to say and he wraps his arm around his friend's shoulder. "You'll always be my brother."

"I know. I'll miss you too. But I know you're in good hands." Steve responds and lets his gaze wander towards the house, no doubt talking about (Y/N) and the kid.

"Promise me something, Buck." He says as he pulls away.

"Anything."

"Talk to (Y/N) and get to know your daughter. She's a Barnes through and through. And she loves you so much, they both do. Let them. Love 'em back."

"Kid doesn't even know me," Bucky murmurs, nervously glancing at the floor.

"What? You really think that? Buck, all we did for the last 5 years was try to keep your memory alive. For us but especially for her. We showed her pictures and videos and (Y/N) told her so many stories. She knows you and she loves you and for the first time in her life, she's living in a world where her dad is alive and present. Go, be with them. You guys need each other."

He's right. Of course, he's right. Steve has this fantastic ability to be right when it matters.

“And don’t do anything stupid until I get back!” Steve adds, making a small smile appear on Bucky’s face.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you. “

They embrace each other one last time before Bucky whispers another “I’ll miss you” and Steve tells him that “It’ll be okay, Buck”.

And then everything happens so fast. One moment he’s living in a world where his best friend is by his side and a minute later all of that has forever changed.

Bucky wipes his eyes with the back of his hand one last time before looking at himself in the mirror. He knew this moment was coming, Steve told him. He had time to come to terms with it and yet it’s a completely different situation now that it’s done. Parting with the only family you’ve ever known breaks your heart in ways you’ve never known are possible.

As he steps out of the bathroom something solid crashes against him and as he looks down, a pair of identical blue eyes stare back at him. He’s not been this close to her since he found out about her, keeping her at a distance. To protect her.

His arm was made to kill how could it ever hold a child and keep it safe?

She stares at him for a moment before a small “Hi” falls from her lips. It’s shy and timid and adorable and all Bucky wants to do is cuddle her to his chest and never let her go.

He doesn’t get the chance though as another little girl rushes past them and calls out to his daughter to follow her which she does.

“Who is that?” Bucky hears Morgan question.

“That’s my daddy, but I don’t think he wants to see me. Mommy says he needs time but —“

He doesn’t hear the rest of her words as the girls round the corner and get swallowed by the sounds of the other guests still mulling around sharing stories about their fallen hero.

But it’s enough. He doesn’t need to hear more. Those words are enough to rip his heart out of his rib cage, crush it up into a million little pieces, and spread it in the winds, never to be able to be put together ever again.

“Hey have you seen — oh Bucky are you okay?”

He doesn’t deserve her tenderness, her kindness, and her care, and yet she still exudes the same love she’s always held for him. Love he was never deserving of from the beginning.

It doesn’t matter at that moment though, who deserves what and who doesn’t. He’s too caught up in the breaking of his own heart. So he falls into her arms as silent tears slowly but surely make their way down his cheeks.

“She thinks I don’t want to see her.”

“Who does?” (Y/N) says as she gently combs her fingers through his long hair.

“My own daughter. “

(Y/N) pulls away slightly, holding onto his shoulders and looking deep into his eyes.

“Are you ready to talk about this now? Ready to stop avoiding me ?”

Bucky only nods and lets her lead him outside past the guests and down to the lake where it’s quiet and serene and life seems to slow down a little. She keeps holding on to his hand, his vibranium one, as they settle on a bench facing each other.

“ I missed you, Bucky.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He’s been told those words so many times and it’s still hard to believe in them. Even when he knows they’re true. There will always be a hint of doubt since him. Always.

“I don’t — I don’t want her to think I don’t love her. Or want to be with her. I do love her very much. More than I have ever loved another person, including you, and you are my everything. I’m just overwhelmed and — and scared.” He admits. It’s the first time he says those words to anyone but himself. It feels good. It feels right. But it doesn’t take the fear away or the guilt.

“James, she knows you love her. Not a day went by that I didn’t tell her how much her daddy loves her and wants to be with us. And it’s okay to be scared. I was scared and I only had to deal with a baby, not an opinionated 4-year-old. It’s okay to be scared but you can’t let the fear hold you back. You’re the bravest man I know. You laugh in the face of danger. What changed?”

“Stakes are higher this time. What’s losing my life compared to ruining my daughter’s?”

“You’re not gonna ruin anyone’s life, Buck.” (Y/N) exclaims and softly pets the side of his face. She’s always been so gentle with him. Such a contrast to the touches he was used to.

“I don’t know the first thing about being a dad. Mine wasn’t a very good example. I have been trained to kill, to cause pain. My arm is a weapon.”

“Your arm has shielded me from bullets and harm so many times. It’s held me close at night and wipes my tears when I was sad. Your arm is only a weapon if you use it like that. And all the other stuff, that’s not you anymore. You know this. “

He can see the treads now welling in her eyes too and it makes his heart twist and constrict in many painful ways.

“And I left you alone during all of it. Missed the last 4 years of her life and the entire pregnancy. How am I gonna make up for that, for leaving you alone?”

It feels like once he’s started talking he can’t stop. All his fears and worries flow from his lips like tidal waves in an ocean. Crashing against the shore of truth.

“You didn’t leave us Bucky. You were taken from us. We never blamed you for that. I know you wanted to be there. I never doubted that for a second. Look, I had 9 months to come to terms with my fears, you didn’t have any time to face them. I get why you are freaking out but uh — it’s time to step up. You know what makes a good dad? Being there when he can be. Showing he cares. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I can.” Bucky promises and smiles a smile of content. One of hope. His fears and his guilt aren’t gone. But maybe if she believes in him and Steve does, maybe he can be the man and the father he needs to be.

“Good. We really do love you, Buck.”

“As in present tense?”

“Of course. We never stopped. Now can I ask one more thing of you?”

“What’s that?” In the end, it wouldn’t really matter. Whatever she asks he’ll do it. For her, he’ll do anything.

“Can you kiss me? I’ve been waiting for 5 years to finally kiss you again. I can’t hold out much longer. “

He grants her not one kiss, not two. In fact, he loses count as they get lost in many many loving kisses. Maybe, Bucky thinks, soulmates really are a thing. Maybe there are people on this earth meant to find each other. Meant to go through hardships together and still find their way back to one another in the end.

Whatever one chooses to believe in. Bucky is certain she is his person in this life and the next and through whatever might come their way.

He’s sitting on the big red couch in (Y/N)’s apartment, nervously fumbling with the tassels on one of the throw pillows as his eyes wander around the room. There are so many pictures, hung on the walls and placed on side tables and shelves. His child’s entire life up to now, caught on film for him to relive if only in his mind.

There are pictures of him too. One of him and Steve in the 40s, laughing and leaning against each other in support. (Y/N) always said it was one of her favorites. “You’re so happy in it. That’s how happy I want you to be all the time.” She’s told him once.

Next to a picture of (Y/N) and their daughter is a picture of him. He’s sure it’s placed there deliberately. To remind everyone he is a part of this family, even when he wasn’t there.

He is here now though. The next picture put up will be one of all three of them.

The front door opens and a melody of voices echoes through the place. (Y/N)’s laughter and the sweet giggle of his little girl. It’s his favorite sound in the world, he decided then and there. Nothing will ever compare.

The girl rushes into the room then comes to an abrupt stop in front of him.

“Hi,” she says in the same small voice as she did at the Stark’s house. Only this time Bucky doesn’t just stand and stare at her, unable to move or speak.

This time he holds out his arms and speaks up.

“Hi, I — I'm sorry it has taken me so long. I don’t know what I was thinking. I love you, Darling. Can I hug you?”

She doesn’t say yes or no, doesn’t glance at his vibranium arm with hesitance of fear. She falls right into him, wrapping her little arms around his neck and cuddling into his chest. It feels like this is where she belongs, like this is where she was always meant to be. Like his arms were made to hold her and never let go. And maybe, Bucky thinks, maybe they were.

“I love you too, daddy.”

He liked being a sergeant. It’s a title that has always filled him with pride. It has nothing on the title of being a dad. That one means so much more. Fills him with a pride and love he’s never previously known.

For the next few moments, he gets lost in the feeling of holding his child. A perfect little girl who is part of him. The good. Only the good. It all comes together in her. No nightmares or guilt or fears. Only love. So much love. He holds her close to his heart, wishing he could’ve done this when she was just a baby. Feel her heart beat in rhythm with his. He places little kisses up and down her small face. On her chubby little cheeks and her cute bottom nose, making her scrunch it up and let out soft giggles.

It’s strange to be the man he is and act so gently with another human being. But it feels so right.

His eyes find (Y/N)’s across the room, filled with tears though this time they are happy ones. With an outreached hand he beckons her over and pulls her onto the couch and into the hug.

This is right. Nothing has ever felt this real. This happy. This perfect.

His girls cuddle into him with nothing but love filling their hearts. This is the life he wants, the one he has always wanted. The life he fought for. The life he will never stop fighting for.

Steve was wrong. They aren’t his second chance.

They’re his only chance.

His destiny.

His family.

His home.

TAGLIST:  @stayherefor-evermore  - @booksb4looksstuff​ - @captainofallfandoms - @charmed-asylum​

[sparkypantaloons]

A Storm

“I promise you.” Bruce had said. “If you come home, I will keep you safe. I will keep them safe. I will keep us whole. I promise.”

Tim is taken. Each of his family react differently.

There’s a rushing in Tim’s ears. Like a waterfall. It’s so loud he can’t see. Can that happen? Can noise affect sight? He doesn’t know.

There’s a hand on his back. Gentle, but firm. He thinks maybe someone is talking to him, but he can’t see. He can’t see anything over the rushing in his ears.

No, that’s not right. He needs to start again. Try again. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, covers his ears, takes a deep breath.

“Tim?” Is it Bruce? Someone’s hands are on Tim’s arms, pulling his hands from his head. The person in front of him is stooping slightly, so they can look him in the eye. “Can you hear me?”

“'m fine.” Tim says. But his eyes can’t focus, it’s too loud in here. “I just need, I… just need t’sleep.” He grimaces, the noise too bright for his eyes.

There’s more sound then. Voices he thinks, but he’s not sure. He can’t see who they belong to. Then there’s a hand around his ankle, gripping him roughly. He flinches in the hold, starts to struggle as his shoes are removed. Then his socks. What is going on?

His feet? What about his feet? He tries to speak, but it’s so loud in here, he can’t form the words. A forehead presses against his, green eyes bore into his own. Jason?

Hands hold his feet to the floor, press down. More talking. It could be shouting now.

The hands let go of his feet. Move to his face. “Your feet, Timmy. Concentrate on your feet.”

Tim opens his eyes. Jason is still there, his bright green eyes, searching and insistent. “'m home?” Tim mumbles.

“Concentrate on your feet, Timmy. What can you feel?”

Tim closes his eyes again. His feet. He can feel… wood. Wooden floor. Wooden floorboards and the thin gaps between them. The Manor floor. The Manor.

“Yeah, Timmy.” Jason says. His hands move from Tim’s face, pull the teenager into a bear hug. “You’re home. You’re home.”

~~

Leslie pushes her glasses back up her nose. Lets out a sigh. “It’s just going to take time, Bruce.” She says. She’s firm, as always. But there’s a softness in her eyes. A sadness. “Like all things.”

Bruce doesn’t speak. Just rubs his face with his hands. Hangs his head.

“Why is he so disorientated?” Dick asks. His right hand is still bandaged up, swollen, but it’s no longer bleeding through.

Jason sucks his teeth from where he’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. Leslie and Dick both ignore him.

“Sensory deprivation, especially for so long-- it can take a little while to recover.” Leslie is matter of fact. There’s no point mincing her words. “You have to take it slow.”

“Touch is best to start with.” Jason says, pushing himself off the wall. “It’s grounding.”

Dick, Leslie and Bruce look over at him. He shrugs. “It worked for me.”

A pained look crosses Dick’s face. Leslie interrupts before he can speak. “Let Tim lead, let him set the pace.” Her words hang in the air. “It’ll take time. But he’s strong.” She says. “He’ll pull through.”

~~

Dick wakes up in a sweat, breathless. His right hand is throbbing. He tries to flex his fingers, flinches as his broken knuckles protest. It’s not the worst injury he’s ever had. Not by far. But the way he got it…

He shakes his head, tries to dislodge the memory of a shattered eye-socket, a dislocated jaw, a cracked skull. Tries to shed the jarring realisation that he broke his hand on a man’s face. Tries to make himself at least feel a sense of responsibility for the damage done. He doesn’t.

He makes his way to the kitchen, pads barefoot through the Manor. He pulls an ice-pack out of the freezer, holds it on his aching fist. The cold seeps into his joints, consumes the burn of displaced bone and absent guilt. He feels calmer.

Touch is grounding, Jason had said. Dick doesn’t want to think about how the younger man, his younger brother, knew that. Doesn’t want to know which one of a lifetime of traumatic experiences had taught him that little gem. But he can’t dispute it. The touch of the cold helps.

He makes his way back upstairs. Turns left, instead of right. To Tim’s room.

The door is pulled to. The most Alfred would allow. Bruce had been adamant about staying by Tim’s side, so had Jason, so had Dick. Alfred had refused all of them.

“Wayne Manor is the safest, most secure building on the eastern seaboard, if not the entire continent. None of you will do Master Timothy any good if you don’t get some sleep. He will be safe, in the meantime.”

Bruce had tried to protest, Jason had made threats, all but hissed at Alfred’s suggestion. The older man hadn’t budged. “I will stay with Master Timothy. In case he wakes.”

He wasn’t wrong. They needed rest, all of them. The search had been… long. Too long. Desperate, and increasingly frantic with each passing hour. And there had been so many hours.

He swallows down a memory. Of the howl that felt like it had been ripped out of his soul when they found Tim. Dick hadn’t even realised the noise had come from his own mouth, didn’t notice the tears of rage on his own face, as he took his hands to the men holding Tim captive. Broke his hands on the men who had taken his brilliant, darling brother. Locked him in the dark, alone, for too, too long.

Dick hovers outside Tim’s door. Holds his ear to the wood. He can’t hear anything over his own breathing, his own heartbeat.

“Just open it, Dickhead.” It’s Jason. He's dressed in a spare pair of Bruce’s pyjamas. Despite his size they're somehow still too big for him. It makes him look young. Too young. Dick stares at him for a moment before doing as he says.

The pair of them fill the doorway. Wait as their eyes adjust to the light in the room. Gloomy shadows fall in through the window; the blinds have been left open. Dick’s eyes scan the bed but his ears hear Jason’s breathing hitch. He feels the younger man go rigid beside him, knows his own body has responded the same. Because Tim is gone. Again.

Panic forces itself into what little space is between them, and Dick is only vaguely aware that Jason is gripping his wrist. Holding him too tightly, clinging onto him as though he’s scared one of them will disappear too.

A small cough brings them back to their senses. Alfred. The older man is sat in the corner of the room, by the window. A patient vigil in the dark. He nods to the far side of the bed.

Jason all but drags Dick with him as he marches into the room. They stop just past the bed. Tim is asleep on the floor. He’s curled into a ball, a single sheet held tight over his head. Dick only knows it’s him from the tuft of hair that’s sticking out.

He feels Jason let go of his wrist. The younger man stumbles backwards. He nods to Alfred then leaves the room, gone as quick as he entered.

Dick watches him go, a new worry blooming in his chest. He looks at Alfred, and the older man shakes his head sadly.

~~

Jason is in his old room. His old en-suite more accurately. His knees protest against the tile as he wretches into the toilet.

I am safe, I am warm, I am whole.

He repeats the words in his mind like a mantra. Tries to control his breathing. He fails. Another wave of nausea has him wretching again. Acid burning its way up his throat.

A hand presses to his back and he flinches. He hadn’t heard anyone come in. Bruce places a glass of water on the floor beside him, pushes his hair back from his face.

Jason wipes his mouth on his sleeve, takes a shaky sip of water. Bruce rubs circles on his back.“Don’t.” Jason croaks, and he hates himself when the warmth of the hand is removed. He looks up at Bruce. “You promised you’d keep them safe.” He says, and he can’t keep the hurt out of his voice. Can’t keep the tears from his eyes. “You promised.”

“I know.” Bruce says. He pulls the younger man into a hug, holds him tight against his chest. “I’m sorry.” His son’s tears soak through his shirt.

~~

Jason doesn’t know how long they sit there. Tangled limbs on the cold, hard tiles of the bathroom floor. Only knows that he needs Bruce to let go. He pulls himself out of his father’s arms, pushes himself to his feet. He needs to brush his teeth.

Bruce sits on the floor behind him, as Jason scrubs the bile and acid from his mouth. He presses too hard with the toothbrush, can taste the copper of blood against mint. But the dig of the bristles in the soft flesh of his gums is grounding. Reminds him he’s still alive.

I am safe, I am warm, I am whole.

Jason can remember sleeping on the floor. He’s slept on so many of them. The dingy corner of their apartment growing up, when all they could afford was a single mattress and Willis refused to let him share. The cardboard box by one of the subway vents behind the old Monarch Theatre. The floor of this very bedroom, the bed too soft for him to sleep in, threatening to drown him as soon as he fell asleep. Then the streets again, when he had wandered aimlessly after his death.

He can remember the dark too. Of being locked in a closet and forgotten for days at a time, when his infant crying became too much for Willis. Of his eyes swollen shut as the Joker beat the life out of him. Of his coffin, as he lay there screaming for Bruce to save him.

Jason’s life was a short but terrible history of hard floors and dark rooms and Tim’s was never meant to be like that.

They’d found him in all but a box, eight feet by eight feet by eight feet. There were no windows, the door had been soldered shut. He was being fed once a day. Some bread and water slid through a hatch in the wall, and a bucket too. Swapped out every 24 hours. Nobody ever spoke to him, nobody ever asked anything of him. No-one ever demanded anything from them either, neither The Bats, nor The Waynes.

He spits into the sink. Toothpaste pink with blood. He rinses his mouth. Splashes his face. Takes a deep breath.

They just took him and kept him. Because they could.

Jason had known people like that too, once. If he clings to it, it’s the only thought that makes him grateful Tim has been left alone for so long. Even as it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Coming home, coming back to his family had been as painful and awful as clawing himself out of his own grave. An endless fight against the pit and its madness, that drove him to hurt the people he loved. An ongoing battle against the deep, deep wound in his heart that The Joker still lived. And a terrifying, haunting fear that he would lose them again. That after all they had been through, after he finally got his family back, they would be taken from him and he would be alone once more.

“I promise you.” Bruce had said. “If you come home, I will keep you safe. I will keep them safe. I will keep us whole. I promise.”

Jason turns away from the sink. Walks back into his room. Leaves Bruce sat on the cold, tiled floor.

~~

Eventually Bruce pulls himself to his feet. Jason’s room is empty when he passes through. He doesn’t allow himself to wonder where he might have gone. Of all the broken promises he has made to Jason, he knows this one has hurt his son the most. That Jason’s single biggest fear is losing the family he has so desperately longed for, both of his lives. That Jason would rather never love at all, than love and lose it all over again. This time had been too close. For Jason. For all of them.

It had taken them too long to get a lead on where Tim was being held. Far too long. And even then, they couldn’t confirm an exact location. They’d had no choice but to split up. Cass, and Damian had joined the Titans on the West Coast. Dick and Jason had come with him on the East.

He pulls out his phone, checks on the location of Cass and Damian for the nineteenth time that night. They’re making steady progress. Will be in Gotham before sunrise. His arms ache with a desperate need to hold them, know that they are safe. To have the physical proof, that all his children are alive and breathing, in his hands.

It had taken him a long time to let go of Tim once they found him. To pass his sweet, brilliant boy over to Leslie, so she could check him over. Confirm he was okay.

Tim was older now than Jason had been when he… Tim was older, but he had still felt just as small and young and broken, when Bruce had lifted him out of that box they’d kept him in. Out of the darkness. His body weak and trembling.

It had been Tim who had been taken, but Bruce had looked at the body in his arms and seen Robin, limbs twisted and broken. Seen Nightwing, lips blue and heart stopped by a hand held to his face. Seen another Robin, sword run through him, splitting his battered body almost in two. Seen Red Robin, riddled with bullet holes, blood running out of every one. He had held Tim and seen everyone of his children dead in his arms. An endless cacophony of death.

He reaches Tim’s room. Stands in the doorway and hopes that Alfred can’t see him in the darkness. He tries to remember back to when he took Dick in. Tries to recall what, in the name of all the Gods, had possessed him to allow his child, his children, out into the night with him. Tries to remember how he reached the conclusion that he could risk their single precious lives for his own crusade. How he could risk their safety for a single second.

He steps into the room. Hears Alfred sigh from his seat by the window.

“Don’t ask me to leave.” Bruce croaks out. His throat is tight, trying to hold a tidal wave of emotion at bay. “Don’t.”

Alfred stands. “Of course not.” He says softly, and he gestures to where Tim is sleeping on the floor. “Did you get any sleep?” He asks.

Bruce doesn’t respond. Just stares down at Tim, eighteen but looking for all the world like the ten year old who had shown up on Bruce’s doorstep all those years ago. The sheet is twisted round his limbs, his face screwed into a frown.

“Why is he on the floor?” Bruce asks. Though he has a good idea already.

Alfred takes a steadying breath. “He’s been…” He pauses. “He’s been sleeping on the floor so long, it’s what he’s used to n—“ He cuts himself off abruptly, turns to the window away from Bruce.

Bruce feels a burn in his throat. Knows that Alfred is fighting down the same tears that he is. He places a hand on Alfred’s shoulder. “I’ll stay with him now. Get some rest.”

Alfred nods. Places a hand over Bruce’s but doesn’t look at him. “And you, Bruce.” He says and he leaves. Pulls the door closed gently behind him.

Bruce turns back to Tim. His darling boy. He kneels down, gently detangles the sheets from his son’s legs. Tim doesn’t stir. Bruce lies down next to him, lays the sheet over them both.

Touch is grounding. Jason had said. And it’s all Bruce can do not to pull Tim into his arms and never let go. But Leslie had said baby steps. So instead he settles for running his fingers through Tim’s hair and holding his face in his hands. Moves his head closer so he can feel the soft rise and fall of Tim’s breath.

This would have to do, for now.

[awesomerextyphoon]

Speculum Cupido

Summary: You’ve been Dr. Strange’s apprentice for some time now and you wanted to prove your best friend wrong. It goes awry and both of you find yourselves in a ‘dark mirror’ universe where the Captain, the Asset, the Kraken, and the Fallen Angel want to make both of you theirs.

Pairing: Dark!Steve x Female Reader x Dark!Ransom, minor Dark!Bucky x OFC x Dark!Sam

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Word Count: 3,072

Warning: Dub/Non-Con Smut, Oral (m & f receiving), Daddy Kink, MMF Threesome, Double Penetration, Spit Roasting, Non-Con Drugging, Breeding Kink, and Artistic License w/Biology

A/N: This is my gift to @labella420​ for @drabblewithfrannybarnes​, @chrissquares​ , and @amythedvdhoarder​’s Happy Hoelentine’s Day Challenge.  Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​. Shout out to @saiyanprincessswanie​ for letting me borrow an idea of hers for this fic. Thanks to @the-soulofdevil​ for the beta.

Back to Masterlist

Another Valentine’s Day, another day for the world to mock me being single.

You were having enough of a ‘meh’ week as it is. Dr. Strange had to return to Kamar-Taj for an in-person meeting and Wong was who knows where. They had instructed you to work on your portal and transfiguration spells while they were away which was fair since you’ve been lacking in that department.

It’s just that you longed for some excitement.

Luckily you wouldn’t be spending Valentine’s completely alone; Isabeau, your best friend, was coming over due to as she put it, ‘no one cares about a day where all one gets is somewhat good sex’.

Fast Forward two hours and you’re getting your room ready for Galentine’s Day Movie Night. You had decked out your room with homemade baked goods, drinks, best friend movies, all the good shit.

“I have wonderful news!” Isabeau burst in with gusto yet again.

You shot her a bemused smile, “What is it this time?”

“I have a new crush! It’s Eric from IT!”

“Are you sure this won’t end up like last time?” you queried in reference to the time when Isabeau’s crush turned out to be a complete asshole.

“Oh hush! This won’t be like that at all,” Isabeau retorted, “Now how about you? Have you had any luck with a hot sorcerer?”

“If only I’d be so lucky,” you muttered as Isabeau started on the Toffee Crunch Cookies you made.

A few minutes later, Isabeau’s eyes narrowed and her full lips curved upward in a mischievous smirk.

She had one of her ideas again.

“Hey, why don’t you try an ambiance spell. They’re harmless and you always feel better afterward.”

You didn’t like casting them due to something always going awry, but you relented once Isabeau broke out her puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, alright, I give,” you submitted, “I’ll try a simple floating star spell. Let me find the book.”

 Both of you went to the library for the book but it was nowhere to be found. All of the ambiance and illusion books were blank.

“Is this a sorcerer thing? I’m not seeing any words or illustrations,” puzzled Isabeau as you went through book after book in the library only to find them blank.

“No. Maybe we should just go back to my room,” you suggested as you made your way to the exit.

“Wait! There’s one book left. You could try that one.” Isabeau pointed to the last book on the shelf. It was a little worn like many of the books that resided in the library, but the inscriptions seemed odd; like it wasn’t supposed to be there.

Yet it was the only book that had anything in it.

“Fine,” you relented as you took the book back to your room.

  The spells in the book weren’t anything out of the ordinary, but one spell seemed to stand out to both of you.

“Speculum Mundus?” Isabeau wondered.

“It means Mirror World in Latin.”

“Oh,” her eyes got a mischievous glint to them again, “I bet you can’t cast the spell.”

“Not this again.”

“Oh come on,” Isabeau goaded, “It’s a simple mirror world spell. You’ve done it before. What’s the worse that can happen?”

“I don’t know…”

“Are you gonna chicken out again?”

“No! Just give me a minute,” you mumbled as your hands got into the starting position and recited the incantation.

  The room changed instantly.

It was filled with prism-like structures and kaleidoscope imagery giving the space a surreal ambiance.

It wasn’t unlike the last time you went into the Quantum Realm with Dr. Strange and Wong, and yet the hair on the back of your neck stood straight, and a chill shot through your spine.

You heard a gasp and turned around to see Isabeau with her protruding eyes opened wide and her mouth gaping. Following her line of sight, you saw four of the hottest men you’ve ever seen.

Though something was amiss.

For one thing, there were two Steve Rogers; one with a beard and one clean-shaven. Bucky Barnes’ arm was silver and not dark gray with gold highlights. All of them were in black uniforms with sections of vermillion and/or maroon. Clean-shaven Steve had a black tactical suit with a vermillion Kraken on his chest. Bearded Steve had a skull with tentacles on it. Sam had three vermillion stripes and one maroon stripe across his chest and shoulders with a falcon’s head in red surrounded by a black circle between his pecs.

But the thing that set off all your alarms was the fact that Bucky’s outfit was a dead ringer of his Winter Soldier days.

Instinctively, you grabbed Isabeau’s hand and made a mad dash for the hallway. You needed to get some distance so you could ground yourself.

You tried breaking the spell but to no avail. Not only did the spell not break, but your hands also burned at each attempt.

“We won’t lose you again!” one of the Steves yelled as you and Isabeau turned a corner.

“Come here, mici prințese!” another voice, probably Bucky’s shouted as the two of you made your way into a closet.

“I think we’re okay for now,” you breathed telepathically as the four Adonises crept past your hiding place.

“What’s the plan now?” Isabeau asked fearfully as her heartbeat started to rise in terror.

“I don’t know but-” you were cut off by a strike to the back of your head and your vision rapidly fading to black.

  Muffled voices and the beeping of medical equipment brought you from the void.

“Nothing is wrong….they’re…good, sir.”

“Be sure that they are. We can’t leave anything up to chance.”

Groggily, you open your eyes to find yourself in a sleek hospital room lightly chained to a bed. Several other people were monitoring your vitals. One of them is Dr. Bruce Banner, or what seems to be Dr. Banner.

Bruce turned to see you looking around with a slightly confused expression, “Ah, you’re awake,” he turned to one of his aides, “Contact the Captain and Lieutenant. Tell them to come to get their bride.”

You blinked. Bride?

“Where is Isabeau, my friend?” you inquired as one of the aides brought you some water.

Bruce scowled, “Don’t think about her. You might be able to see her if the Captain and/or Lieutenant wills it.” he remarked while eyeing you up and down in a condescending almost lecherous manner, “Hmm, looks great for breeding,” Bruce noted as he fondled and prodded your curves.

You’ve always been proud of how you looked, but at that moment you wanted to shrink in the corner after giving this Bruce a roundhouse kick to the groin.

You were about to tell Dark!Bruce to fuck off when Tony Stark, fuck it, Dark!Tony entered the room. This Tony looked a lot more sinister with his silver, gray, light, and steel navy blue armor. His face and hair were mostly uncovered with his facial expression positively predatory.

“Cap’s one lucky bastard. He gets a sexy bunny along with Lieutenant Smart Ass.”

Recalling how some megalomaniacs liked shows of submissiveness, you lowered your head and asked where you were.

Whether it be out of pity, spite, or malice, Tony answered your question, “You’re in another earth, another universe.”

You nearly swiveled to look outside the window. NYC’s skyline was radically different. There were fewer buildings and HYDRA insignias everywhere.

“HYDRA took over this world.” You deadpanned. FUUUUCK!

“Sexy and smart.” Tony praised sardonically.

It didn’t take time for HYDRA to regroup after WWII. Zola and his associates were able to convince Howard Stark to give them the Tesseract with the promise of great renown, riches, and no longer being bound by the laws of weaker men. They were able to create a superweapon with the help of Dr. Whitney Frost and have been ruling the planet ever since.

It could be worse. HYDRA knew they had to offer the people comforts in exchange for their obedience. They eradicated all diseases, created a good standard of living, and ended all petty conflicts under the new world order.

Though Tony didn’t feel the need to tell you. You’ll figure it out on your own.

The doors opened to reveal Steve Rogers and his younger, clean-shaven counterpart in all their masculine glory.

“Good, you’re here.” Bruce welcomed smirking at your silent pleas.

Both soldiers walked over and inspected you.

“Hello, kitten. Name’s Ransom.” The clean-shaven soldier drawled as he moaned from your scent, “Nice set of lips you’ve got there.”

“We’ll definitely have some fun with her,” Steve noted as licked his lips ogling your curves.

You had to use all of your restraint not to spit in their faces.

“We’ll take her.” Ransom decided while Steve nodded.

Several of the aides breathed a sigh of relief as Steve broke the chains on your bed like they were nothing.

“Don’t have too much fun now!” Tony called as Steve picked you up bridal style.

“Who am I kidding? they’ll breed her like a Catholic rabbit!”

  “Um, where are you taking me?” you queried, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You will address us as ‘Sir’ in public unless instructed otherwise. Is that understood?” It took all that Steve had not to push against the wall and pound your pussy with his cock he was so enraged.

No, he needed to wait. No one was to see what’s theirs.

Ransom, for his part, chuckled and shook his head, “Best not to anger this one, kitten. He hasn’t been in the best of moods.”

  You gasped once the doors to their living quarters opened.

The place was huge!

It had a modern yet retro design; it should’ve been confusing, but it worked. Grand windows showcased the skyline with a balcony in the middle with a huge kitchen next to what looked to be a restaurant-style fridge and a huge living room with a TV and a fireplace.

Yet there seemed to be something missing.

“Place needs a woman’s touch,” Ransom commented sending a smirk your way.

“I’ll see you in the guest quarters Ransom” Steve deadpanned as he led you down a hall.

  The bedroom was enormous yet sparse like they didn’t know what to do with it.

You were about to say something when Steve dropped you onto the incredibly soft mattress. His eyes darkened with lust and you knew what he wanted. You couldn’t think of a way out of this, not with the magic inhibitors Bruce placed on your wrists.

Maybe you could give escape one last try; you just had to wait for the right opening.

Steve smirked upon seeing you removing your clothes. He liked that you knew your place, his pretty little princess.

You could only gasp when Steve removed his uniform top. He had an incredibly defined musculature: broad shoulders, beefy biceps, chiseled pecs and abs, and a seriously drool-worthy Adonis Belt. The light shining behind him made his body appear even more glorious.

Steve looked like an ancient god brought to modern times.

With a predatory smirk, Steve slowly crawled to you loving the smell of your arousal. “Let me lay out a few rules, sweetheart. You will make our meals, clean our rooms, bear our children, and be our good little whore. You must earn the right to wear a bra; panties are out of the question.”

Each rule was emphasized by a kiss or a love bite to your jaw, neck, collarbone, and shoulders.

Finally, you are to address us as Sir in public and Daddy in private. Say it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you muttered with your eyes downcast.

Steve lifted your chin up with his forefinger, “That’s a good girl,” and brought you in for a kiss on the lips.

The kiss was demanding yet soft. You were surprised he was capable of such gentleness.

Steve was about to push his tongue into his mouth when Ransom strolled into the room.

“Does she know the drill?”

Steve broke the kiss with a smirk,” Just finished explaining it.”

Ransom shot you a sardonic smirk, “You got the rules, kitten? Good. Now if you misbehave, I’m gonna send you to the dungeons for a few days.”

Steve started up again, “But...if you’re good-”

“A good little wifey,” Ransom interjected caressing your right cheek and leaning in for a kiss.

This kiss started off soft then intensified (really know how to lure a girl) into one filled with passion and dominance. Ransom forced his tongue into and moaned at your taste. A few seconds later he was pushing what felt like a small tablet past your tongue forcing you to swallow.

“Did you do it yet?”

“Cool it, grandpa! I did, don’t you worry. She’s gonna feel it. Aren’t ya, kitten.”

You started to feel strange. Your body temperature skyrocketed, your mind was in a deep haze, your thighs were clenching on overtime you were so turned on. You needed relief and fast.

“Please Daddies!” you begged as you tried your best not to touch yourself.

“See grandpa? She’s ready.” Ransom purred as he grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders. He planted a few kisses near your entrance and groaned at the smell of your arousal.

It only took one long, slow lick to your slit to turn you into a moaning mess. You couldn’t believe the pleasure you were feeling. It was like a bolt of lightning shot through you.

Ransom groaned at the taste of your juices. Not even Stark’s overpriced chefs could compare. “Fuck, she tastes divine,” he groaned and dove in for more. Ransom attacked your folds and swollen clit with insane intensity and precision alternating between his tongue and fingers.

You were on cloud nine. Each motion took you further to the precipice of an orgasm. Ransom kept bringing you back from the edge only thrust you back into his level of tumultuous.

Steve got in on the action by covering your moans with a kiss of all-consuming passion and started playing with your breasts.

“Fuck, these tits are amazing! Can’t wait until these are filled with milk” Steve purred as he took one of your nipples into his mouth and the other between his big and forefingers.

After twenty minutes of teasing, Ransom finally let you come. A volcanic eruption of ecstasy erupted from your core and Ransom lapped up all of your juices.

“Rogers, you’re in for a treat!” Ransom exclaimed as he hopped off the edge of the mattress.

“I get her pussy first since you got to eat her out,” Steve uttered as grinned at your blissed-out state.

With a tsk, both of them got you into position with Steve’s thick, muscular thighs on either side of your hips and Ransom standing in front of you taking off his pants.

He was huge! His cock was long, thick, and veiny. It wobbled against his masterfully sculpted abs with each step he took. You wondered how that was going to fit in your mouth. Turns out Steve’s was no smaller if his tip being coated with your slick is any indication.

“This won’t hurt, kitten. You were made for us.” Ransom cooed.

You didn’t know how right he was.

Steve made his move by pushing into you inch by delicious inch and moaned at the sensation. “Fuck, she fits like a dream.”

“Don’t take forever, grandpa.” Ransom chided.

“Shut up, ya punk!” Steve retorted as he began thrusting into you loving the way your pussy clenched around him like a vice’s grip.

“Open wide, kitten,” Ransom started to push his throbbing cock into your mouth.

It took a bit of time and effort to loosen your jaw enough for him to fully enter you. He started fucking your mouth before you were ready. You tried not to gag he was so rough.

What happened to the man from earlier?

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Ransom breathed as he was approaching his climax.

Steve came with a primal roar that reverberated throughout the room after making you come two more times.

“Swallow it, kitten” Ransom ordered.

Funny thing is, you didn’t need the order. You delighted in the salty, tangy, and slightly sweet flavor.

Two minutes after you swallowed all of Ransom’s spent, both men decided it was time to move. Ransom got onto the mattress and pulled you on top of him with his tip nudging your entrance. Steve got behind you and placed kisses along the juncture between your neck and shoulders while positioning himself at your ass.

“Please...please don’t do this!” you pleaded, the pill’s effect slipping for the tiniest of moments.

Steve grabbed your neck with just enough force to pause, not hurt.” Best be a good girl now, sweetheart,” he warned.

Ransom slid in first, “Holy fucking shit!” he moaned, “Sam owes me $40.

“That depends on how well their bride is taking to them,” Steve pointed out.

“Eh, we’ll say ours is better.”

Ransom moaned again once he bottomed out and grabbed the globes of your blessed backside. He couldn’t wait to grab and smack it around in their quarters.

Steve moved slowly causing both of your breathing to hitch, his from pleasure and yours from slight pain.

With a grin and smirk, they started moving in tandem. Your body almost couldn’t take the immense pleasure you were feeling.

“I could get used to this,” Ransom remarked.

“Well, we have the week,” Steve breathed past your ear.

Both kept at it until they came in you twice. You nearly passed out after your twelfth orgasm.

“Rest kitten,” Ransom purred as you finally gave in to your exhaustion.

  “The bride took to our seed,” Steve reported to Director Pierce.

“Good. We found their parents along with the rest of the resistance.” Pierce imparted.

Steve scowled at the information.

You and your friend, Isabeau, were the only ones to survive the Eve Project. HYDRA wanted to genetically groom compatible brides for their top soldiers. You were promised to Steve and Ransom and your friend to Bucky and Sam. Both of you were whisked away to another Earth by the resistance and your treacherous parents.

Now you were back where you belong.

“When do we leave?” Ransom growled.

“Once Strange and Wanda crack the protection spell. In the meantime, enjoy your bride.” Pierce turned to leave, but stopped before turning off the screen,” I want to see some little ones soon.”

[flashflashhundredyarddash]

batkids and their relationships with their siblings headcanons. under read more because this got fucking LONGGG

dick

dick is the eldest so he doesnt want to bog down his younger siblings with his problems, but if he DOES, he tends to talk to jason about it

dick and cass start to really begin to bond when Cass shows up to dicks gymnastics class for 3rd-6th graders and then cass shows up all the sixth graders and they get frozen yogurt after lmao

dick and tim are Very much thick as thieves. tim is very much like bruce on the Emotional Suppression scale, so dick just really wants to make sure his little brother is safe and happy ALL the time

Duke and Damian are the only two really permanently at the manor anymore, so when dick drops by he tries to do something with both of them. duke frantically zoom calls dick every other week to help him with his his trig homework. dick shows up to dukes high school graduation with literally the BIGGEST SIGN

everyone insists damian is dicks favorite but he does actually genuinely love all his siblings equally, his relationship with damian is just Very different from the others because of the age gap and being dami's primary caretaker for a year. dick babies dami every chance he gets

jason

would sell Dick to satan for One corn chip

him and cass don't have the greatest start to their relationship because cass is very much Against Killing so it takes a while for jason to warm up to her and earn her trust. now, though, jason is competing with steph by showing cass all the classic American Teenager things she missed out on. steph is currently winning but jason is like 98% positive a crunch wrap from taco bell is going to push him over the edge

tim and jason are currently competing over who can solve the most cases in a month. tim is winning. that won't last long.

jason Loves to Big Brother duke its so embarrassing. duke will get out of school and go to his car and jason is SITTING IN THE FRONT SEAT FRANTICALLY WAVING TO GET DUKES ATTENTION. JASON THAT IS MY CAR. signal has one (1) mission with arsenal and arsenal goes hey did you ask that girl to homecoming yet and duke is like I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU.

Damian is proof that Actually, Little Brothers are Pests. Jason fully believes that he was brought back from the dead PURELY to torment damian and he will fulfill this mission at any cost

cassandra

it actually really upset her when Dick didn't accept her at first. she knows her other siblings really adore dick so his lack of trust was really disheartening. it takes dick a while but once he Actually Accepts that cass is going to be a permanent part of their life and oh, wow, dick you really hurt her feelings he really hyperfocuses on bonding with cass for a couple of months which definitely improves their relationship

she really likes jason!! their relationship doesn't start well but because he's close with steph and tim who are cass's top two favorite people to exist ever, cass is like well i GUESS ill hang out with him more. jason is fun to talk to because he always tries his best to explain jokes and give context to what people are talking about (also tim took her to taco bell already but she didn't tell jason she just wanted to hang out)

cass LOVES tim. they just click okay. tim always seems to know when to give her space and when to push and come closer. Tim's "guest room" is just her room lets be real. tim and cass occasionally get mistaken for twins and Cass Loves it.

duke makes cass listen to metal once and cass loses. her. damn. mind. they bond over music a lot because they both Love Music to a degree the others in their family don't.

damian!! damian is her little brother!!! dami isn't As Hostile to cass at first because he is 100% aware cass has the edge in fighting and respects her. cass likes all of his instagram posts and they have a snapchat streak going

tim

tim Loves dick, dick was his first sibling!! he had Very strong hero worship when he first met dick but it mellowed out when tim got older because wow 17 is really not that cool and mature lol. tim has an open invitation to dick's apartment which he does occasionally take advantage of. tim has more than once scared the shit out of wally when wally comes over and wally is convinced they're being robbed (HA) for half a second. i mean. he's not wrong.

listen. tim understands that forgiving the guy who tried to kill you would be a Struggle for some people and it was! definitely! but also at least he can trust jason to, uh, be open about if he doesn't like tim. which is not an assurance he has with other people. so if the guy who tried to kill him tells him tim is cool now then like. maybe tim isn't that bad or annoying a person? also jason arrested a whole gang and won the cases competition but then it created a power vacuum that the whole batfam had to clean up the rest of the month. thanks, jason.

tim LOVES cass. you know how most of the time theres this empty feeling inside you and you just kind of ignore it because you don't know what will fix it or if you do, you know you can't fix it? cass makes that empty feeling feel a little less empty. they just click. tim always tries to travel with cass whenever she leaves gotham.

tim and duke. Tim is actually the sibling who duke goes to whenever he has questions he doesn't want to ask bruce or alfred about, like, life or vigilante-ing or school or college or whatever and Tim is always like yes!! i love Giving Advice and Solving Problems!! tim and duke and jason fill out their college applications together.

tim and damian. LMAO. ROUGH START THAT'S ALL ILL SAY. at some point alfred goes like fuck it. family therapy. and tim and dami are PISSED. tim and damian get along best when they have a common enemy to work against. their relationship gets much better when damian is older and they actually talk about their feelings like emotionally stunted bats. despite how bad their relationship was, tim will ALWAYS protect damian

duke

very much intimidated by dick at first. dick is so much older and has his own job and friends and life and is very much AN ADULT. dick likes to take duke out to do lots of cool stuff (paintball, lasertag, tech exhibitions, concerts, etc). also, dick PERSONALLY introduced duke to superman and is dating THE FLASH. 10/10 awesome big brother.

was intimidated by jason for 0.5 seconds before jason actually opened his mouth and started speaking. jason is literally. So Embarrassing. which is weird because nobody else really seems to feel that way about jason but duke knows he's 100% in the right here. like yeah jason is also An Adult and does Adult Stuff but he's also at the manor like every other weekend???? and he always complains about bruce but always seems to be in the same room bruce is in????? like okay jason. they bond over literature!! jason and duke and alfred will spend literal hours talking about books and duke loves it. duke is the only one who doesn't think jason is funny and jason gets so upset about it lmao.

cass has this one week where she gets really into photography and by virtue of being nearby (and also not nocturnal), duke becomes her victim subject. duke prints out all the pictures and hangs them up in his room (his favorite is one he took when he stole the camera and took a really bad selfie of them together).

tim is closest in age to duke so duke tends to hang around with him a lot. tim introduced duke to his young justice friends and duke is like yes!!! meta-friends!!!! tim really helps duke out with his powers because tim is always like wow i wonder if your powers would work if we did This? can you see farther than other people? is your visible spectrum of light different than other humans? Bruce does the same thing but bruce is boring about it lol.

damian and duke live in the same house and will be in the same room and just send each other social media posts back and forth. they follow each other on instagram and will, OCCASIONALLY, make tik toks together because they're tik tok fiends. each of his siblings have visited his parents once or twice but damian routinely comes with him.

damian

damian gets a special bullet point to say that it took him. forever to come around to the idea of having siblings. he very much believed that he was Bruce's Blood Son and everyone else were just tagalongs or allies. it took him ages to acknowledge that dick, jason, tim, and cass were his siblings, so when duke came and like a week later damian was like Ah, Yes, this is my brother Thomas everyone else was like dude wtf

listen. LISTEN. Obviously. Richard is very highly skilled. and also Father values him highly. and also Richard will listen to Damian complain about his schoolmates. and also Richard is much more patient with Damian than other members of his family. listen....,,, (all this to say damian kind of fucking adores dick lmaooooo this kid).

Todd is kind of unbearable but damian has been informed this is both a normal feeling when it comes to Todd and also big brothers. damian was an only child for ten years so yes, Father, if Todd attempts to tickle me I WILL break his fucking nose. yes i WILL put money in the swear jar but I want you to know i don't regret it. they always try to sneak up on each other but mostly fail.

DRAKE!!! but no lol once damian grows up and is like I Apologize for attempting to murder you it was wrong and you are just as much a son to Father as I am tim is like UGH i guess its cool since ur being so emotionally mature and all. also im 2 for 5 on siblings trying to murder me so im definitely going to win trauma bingo and damian is like i take it back you are insufferable. When Will My Older Siblings Stop Joking About Their Trauma.

CASS!!! listen. cass is cool. Cass Gets It. They have a special Bond. also damian really likes it whenever cass is home because 1) he gets to hang out and do something cool with cass and 2) he feels significantly safer with cass in the house because Nobody will be able to hurt any of their family if Cass is there. ALSO he tries to call her cain but everyone is like DONT DO THAT and he doesn't want to call her wayne bcus theyre ALL wayne (dick adds it on as a middle name but also Richard John Wayne West-Grayson is just. the lamest name ever so dick needs to reconsider it before his upcoming nuptials)((dick will not reconsider it except maybe whether grayson-west would work better)) and so he tries cassandra but cass is like :) call me cass and damian is like cassandra is more formal and respectful and cass is like :) and finally damian just has to give in.

Duke! him and duke actually live together so they get the Most Bonding Time and have a bunch of inside jokes as a result. (is it bad i wanted to laugh because inside jokes... joker... i'll see myself out). they're eating breakfast together (and also alfred sits with them IM NOT A MONSTER ALFIE'S LIKE 70 NOW OKAY) and duke laughs and bruce is like what are you laughing at, son? and duke is like oh damian just showed me this funny meme and then he shows the phone to bruce and bruce grabs it (both the boys groan) and after WAY TOO LONG is like "i don't get it" and so now duke and damian have to try and explain the comedic intricacy of bob's burgers

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - VIII

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,600+

Warning: Mention of sexual assault 

Previously on…

“Going along with this plan seems rather unlike you,” Tim finally pointed out to Bruce.

It was the two younger boys and Bruce sitting in the cave. 

“Without her help, we would have never been able to get the evidence we need to take down The Court of Owls,” Bruce sighed as he looked up at the screens.

“Yeah, but like you said before, we never use our own as bait,” Tim countered.

“Y/N knows what she’s doing.”

Tim and Damian shared a look.

“Are you certain things have not gone too personal, father?” Damian finally asked.

The personal question finally forced Bruce to tear his eyes away from the screens and look at his son.

His gaze shifted between Tim and Damian. From their looks alone, Bruce realized that his feelings towards Y/N were not as subtle and secret as he wanted.

But Bruce knew better than to answer Damian. 

The boy had never been invested in his father’s personal relationships before. Why did he have to start now? And with Y/N?

“What happens if things go south?” Tim challenged.

But Damian answered for his father. “You know he has a plan B and C, Drake. He always does, even if he doesn’t share it.”

Bruce was not about to have a conversation about his love and sex life with his two youngest sons. So, he thought of something to escape and he thought of it fast.

He stood up quickly and faced them. “Mandatory family dinner. Tonight.”

“What!?” Damian screamed in outrage.

“I don’t want to,” Tim whined like a baby, even though he was very much a young man standing at the ripe age of 19.

“Mandatory,” Bruce repeated solidly before leaving the cave.

Damian and Tim shared a look.

“This is your fault,” Tim accused.

“How is it my fault?”

“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut about the sexual tension we’re all choking on in this damn mansion!”

“But you don’t disagree. You’ve noticed it as well.”

“I was a little late to the game, but yes,” Tim admitted.

“She’s not like the other ones,” Damian muttered so quietly that Tim almost missed it. 

“No, she’s not,” Tim confirmed. 

——————

Bruce was slightly surprised to find Y/N sitting at the outdoor pool, reading a book.

She wasn’t in a bathing suit – just shorts and a t-shirt.

Bruce walked over with his hands in the pocket of his slacks.

“If I didn’t know better, I would think that you’re starting to like it here.”

She looked up from her book with a smirk. “For the record, I still think we should ‘eat the rich.’”

Bruce smirked. “Right. Of course.”

Y/N eyed him. “Did you need something?”

“Are you sure about this?”

Of course he was coming to try and talk her out of the plan once again.

“Bruce, I’m not changing my mind.”

“Figured you would say that.”

Y/N could see his mind racing. It was obvious he hadn’t stopped thinking about everything that could wrong with. Bruce needed control. And even if he was going into an inevitably dangerous situation, he always had multiple plans to get out alive. Y/N’s involvement made it harder for him to do that. 

“Careful,” she warned him playfully, “It’s starting to look like you’re worried about me.”

“I am,” he retorted.

Her amusement vanished. “I didn’t think you worried. Or got scared.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you had realized by now that both of those things happen when you’re involved.”

She didn’t know how to respond that. She really didn’t.

“I also came out here to tell you we’re having a family dinner tonight.” Yes, Dick and Tim were basically living at the manor while they handled this specific case. But it was rare that the whole family ate together. All the boys would come back from patrol at different times. Alfred usually made something and put each of their meals in the oven or fridge for when they got back.

But Bruce made a habit of having mandatory family dinners. They weren’t frequent. And the boys often viewed them as some sort of punishment. But Bruce saw it as a way to remind them all that they were a family. A chaotic and a strange one, but they were still a family.

“It would be nice if you could join us,” Bruce added politely.  

Y/N smiled at how obvious it was that he was choosing his words carefully. “It was really hard for you to not me tell what to do, wasn’t it?”

He narrowed his gaze at her from being caught.

She never seemed to miss an opportunity to tease him. 

“Yes. I’ll join you.”

Bruce nodded, clearly pleased with her answer.

“Will you miss it?” Bruce surprised her by asking as he looked around at the exterior of the manor, looking almost lost in thought.

“It’s a home,” Y/N sighed. “And even with all the secrets and dark pasts, it’s still filled with happy memories, too. And a family.” 

Then she smirked. “Even if it’s a highly dysfunctional one,” she added teasingly.

“Not sure all the boys would agree with you on that.”

“Are you sure about that?” Y/N challenged.

———————

Y/N walked out of her bedroom right as Dick was dragging Damian down the hallway.

“Come on. It’s never as bad as you think it’s gonna be,” Dick tried to tell the boy.

“Why did Todd come? He never comes to family dinner. He doesn’t even see us as his family.”

Dick smirked. “You and I both know that’s not true, no matter how many times he tries to convince everyone – even himself.”

Then both of them noticed Y/N’s presence in the hallway.

“You look pretty,” Dick complimented.

Y/N looked down at her outfit and shrugged. “Figured I could make a bit more of an effort.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Damian huffed before leaving the two of them behind.

Y/N and Dick both laughed lightly at his attitude.

“I’ve never told you how good you are with him,” she thought aloud.

“I don’t know about that…”

Y/N turned to him with an insistent look. “You are. Sometimes I think he listens to you more than Bruce. He looks up to you. I think it’s because…” her words die out.

“What? What you were going to say?”

Y/N still hesitated, but told him anyway. “I think it’s because you’re more available to him…emotionally, I mean.”

“Sometimes I feel like I have to talk to him the same way I do with Bruce. He’s a younger carbon copy of the guy. Just brattier.” Dick sighed. “Deep down, Damian has a good heart and he cares deeply about the people in his life. He’ll just never admit it.”

Y/N nodded.

It did sound like Bruce.

But Y/N never considered Dick would have a similar impact on Bruce that he also had with Damian. She wondered what Bruce would be like today if he had never taken in an orphaned Richard Grayson.

Sometimes Y/N believed Bruce would be completely devoid of any and all emotions if it hadn’t been for an adolescent Dick. His needs and wants as a child had prevented Bruce from turning completely into a callous vigilante with nothing tying him to his own humanity and life.

Y/N was about to continue her walk to the dining room, but Dick softly grabbed her arm.

“Hey, before we walking into the chaos…” Dick cleared his throat. “I just wanted to make sure we’re okay after the other night.” He shifted his weight and looked at the ground. “If I was too forward or I misread something or–”

“Dick?” Y/N interrupted with a smug look.

His head shot up to look at her. “Yeah?”

She had a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Then she moved into Dick’s space, closing the distance between their bodies and did not stop until they could feel each other’s body heat.

Y/N tipped her head as if she was about to kiss him.

But her lips stopped just a centimeter or two from his.

Dick’s eyes turned menacing once he realized she was messing with him.

“Yes,” Y/N whispered seductively, “we’re okay.”

Then she slipped away quickly and started walking away without him.

“That was cruel!” Dick called after her.

But her only response was her laugher from down the hall.

Dick shook his head, but couldn’t stop his smiling.

Maybe it was avoidance or a distraction from the reality of their relationship. But Y/N couldn’t deny that it was also fun.

—

Dinner was in the formal dining room of the manor. This was the first time Y/N had even stepped foot in the room. The fireplace was even lit. Even when Wayne Manor was hardly trying, it reminded Y/N how out of place she was.  “If I have to sit through this bullshit, you’re sitting next to me,” Jason said from behind Y/N, making her jump.

To her horror, Jason pulled out a seat at the head of the table. Two at each end and then two chairs in the middle on both sides.

“Oh, I don’t think–” Y/N stuttered out in panic.

“You’re the guest,” Jason cut her off and gently pushed in the chair when he finally got her to sit.

Damian was already sitting to the right, closer to the other head of the table– probably to be closer to his father.

Jason sat down to the left of Y/N. And when Dick finally caught up to her, he didn’t question Y/N sitting at the head and sat to the right of her.

“Perfect. You’re like our future step mom,” Jason declared.

Damian snickered, despite hating to laugh at Jason’s joke.

But Y/N looked horrified. She was about to jump up and take the remaining middle seat on the other side of Jason. But Tim’s timing was absolutely horrendous.

“Please switch spots with me,” Y/N leaned forward and hissed at Dick.

He smirked. “Absolutely not.”

When he saw her obvious panic, he leaned forward as well and whispered, “That’s payback for earlier.”

Y/N glared at him and huffed.

“Oh, I’m so glad I came,” Jason sighed.

Bruce walked into the room with his head held high. “Tim, no phones. You know better.”

Tim sighed in annoyance but slipped his phone into his back pocket.

Dick leaned to Y/N. “Bruce has a strict ‘no electronics’ rule for family dinners. Phones are forbidden.”

Y/N nodded, even though she would never be so rude as to bring a phone to dinner, especially when she was a guest and this was a literal “manor.”

Somehow Jason had pulled a bottle of red wine from nowhere. Or maybe it had been sitting on the table and Y/N had just missed it.

And Jason had already grabbed Y/N’s glass and gave her a heavy pour. “But drinking is highly encouraged,” he added with a crooked smile.

Y/N barely let him finish pouring before she grabbed the wine and chugged. 

When she put the glass back down, Bruce was watching her carefully. She at least had enough shame to sink lower in her chair and give him an apologetic look.

But Bruce was amused more than anything.

He’d never brought a woman to a family dinner like this. And though the situation was not that straightforward, it was still causing him a weird amount of anxiety.

“How are your lessons going, Damian?” Bruce broke the tension with the question.

Damian muttered off what sounded like rehearsed and generic statements about his personal studies.

“I didn’t even know he went to school,” Y/N muttered to Dick as Damian and Bruce talked.

“He doesn’t. He’s technically homeschooled,” Jason answered first. “Which is total bullshit seeing as all of us were forced to go to Gotham Academy with all the spoiled brats of the city.”

“As if it mattered, you died before you were forced to graduate from the stupid establishment,” Damian commented darkly.

Jason beamed and laughed lightly at the comment.

But Dick, Tim, and Y/N all froze and looked to Bruce.

They all knew it was a sensitive topic. 

Bruce was clearly trying his hardest not to scold them all night. So he just took in a deep, shaky breath.

“Why get your GED or drop out of high school when you can just get murdered?” Jason offered with enthusiasm.

“Jason,” Y/N warned lowly when she saw the pained look on Bruce’s face that he was trying so hard to hide.

Jason’s death still haunted Bruce and riddled him with guilt – despite the miracle of him being resurrected. Y/N probably knew that more than any of the boys. Maybe only Dick really shared that understanding.

“You’re right,” Jason agreed. “Tonight’s not about me. You’re the guest, Y/N. Why don’t you tell us about yourself?”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but the words got caught in her throat when she felt everyone’s eyes on her.

This was not how she imagined tonight going.

But Alfred – her savior – interrupted with the first course of soup and salad.

Everyone was momentarily distracted with the food.

Y/N hoped it stayed that way.

“Who taught you how to hack?” Damian piped up.

Y/N relaxed at that particular question. “No one. I taught myself.”

“Where’s your family?” Tim asked innocently.

Y/N flipped through all the possible lies she could tell, deciding to go with the one that would lead to the least amount of follow-up questions. And it wasn’t a lie at all.

“We’re estranged,” Y/N mumbled without looking up from her food.

“Parents are overrated,” Jason commented with a smirk.

Dick and Bruce glared at him.

However, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with Jason.

Little did she know that Jason could relate to her upbringing far more than anyone else at the table. Their childhood’s were parallel. Ones neither of them deserved. 

Tim instantly felt guilty for asking an uncomfortable question without realizing it.

“Y/N is not here to be interrogated,” Bruce warned the table.

“Well, why don’t you tell us about her, B?” Jason answered. “How exactly did you two meet again?”

Bruce narrowed his gaze. He knew what game this was. The more emotion and reaction he showed, the more it would encourage Jason to continue with such antics. “We worked on a case together a couple years ago,” was all Bruce supplied.

“More like she threatened you into working with her,” Dick mumbled as he tried to hide his smirk by licking his lips.

Y/N kicked him under the table.

“So, Y/N, have you always had a thing for older men?” Jason asked.

She gave him a death glare.

“Jason, come on.” Dick cautioned.

“I mean, you of all people should be curious, Dickie.”

Everyone went quiet.

Jason rolled his eyes and looked around the table. “Oh. Are we all pretending there’s not a weird love triangle going on?”

“I didn’t realize my sex life was up for discussion tonight,” Y/N mumbled.

But it wasn’t just sex was it?

“Why don’t we all go around the table and share!?” Jason suggested loudly. “Dick, you first. What’s your number?”

“Jason that is enough.” Bruce grunted.

But Y/N had it with Jason’s pot stirring and she wasn’t going to let Bruce fight her battles for her.

She snapped her head in Jason’s direction. “I hope you don’t have a sex tape laying around, because I will sell that shit to PornHub faster than you can jerk off,” she threatened.

The words slipped out of Y/N’s mouth so quickly that she had momentarily forgotten that a literal child was also sitting at the dinner table.

Her hand slammed over her mouth and her eyes widened in shock. 

Jason threw his head back with laughter. This was exactly the chaos he was trying to start.

Her eyes whipped to Damian with horror as she blurted out, “I am so sorry!"

“Please, I know what fornication is,” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m not so innocent. After all, I was conceived from my mother drugging my father and forcing coitus onto him.”

“I also slept with said mother,” Jason chimed in.

Tim made a disgusted gag noise.  

Dick rubbed his face in exhaustion. Y/N’s jaw dropped at this new information. 

But when she looked to Bruce, he wouldn’t meet her stare, only further proving it was all true.

This was no laughing matter. 

Yet the whole family seemed desensitized by the subject.  

Y/N was processing that Bruce had gone through such an assault – and by the mother of his only biological son, nonetheless. “Can Jonathan come over soon for a sleepover, father?” Damian suddenly asked.

The subject change was like whiplash on the entire table.

Y/N couldn’t keep up. She couldn’t just move past what she found out like that. 

“I don’t see why not,” Bruce answered.

Clearly he was grateful for his son’s short attention span and his inability to read the room and realize he’d said something entirely inappropriate for the situation. 

But Y/N could also see the subtle happiness in Bruce’s eyes from his son asking him such a question. And for that split second, this felt like a normal family.

“Who’s Jonathan?” Y/N asked Dick quietly.

She was trying to follow Bruce’s lead and move on. 

“Superman’s son,” Dick provided.

“And literally Damian’s only friend,” Jason added.

“I heard that!” Damian shouted.

“I meant you to!”

“Put that knife down, Damian.” Bruce warned. “What have I told you?”

Damian lowered his head in shame. “The knives at the dinner table are for eating, and are not to be used as weapons under any circumstance.”

The table suddenly erupted into various conversations. Tim started talking Wayne Enterprises business with Bruce. Damian and Jason were shooting insults at each other. Alfred brought in another course.

Dick and Y/N shared a moment.

She sighed, realizing that the worst of it was probably over now.

‘Sorry,’ Dick mouthed to her.

‘It’s OK,’ she mouthed back.

The dinner continue with filet mignon, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, mushroom bordelaise, and – thankfully – more wine. 

Maybe Jason had helped them all in a way by airing out all their dirty laundry immediately and getting it over with so they could move on.

But as Y/N looked around the table, listening to the boys and Bruce talk, she realized that maybe – just maybe – she didn’t want to leave. 

—

Alfred put all the boys to work cleaning the dishes after dinner.

But he refused to allow Y/N to help. Once a guest always a guest.

Alfred handed Y/N a fresh glass of wine and told her to wait in the drawing room and that he’d bring dessert within the hour.  

Y/N knew better than to argue with him and did as she was told.

There was a roaring fire in the room, pulling her to it.

“Please don’t take anything Jason said personally,” Bruce said from behind her.

Y/N let out a breathy laugh and shook her head. “He loves to start drama. That’s for fucking sure.”

“He’s constantly trying to get back at me. You weren’t his target. I was. But I apologize that you were caught in the crossfire.”

She turned away from the fireplace to face him.

Her eyes were heartbroken and worried.

“You never told me about…” she hesitated, “about Damian’s mother. I-I had no idea.”

“I try not to speak of it. No matter what happened in the past, Talia is still Damian’s mother.”

“But she still–”

“I’m fine,” Bruce cut her off. “Really, Y/N. I came to terms with it long ago.”

He was irritated, but too preoccupied with comforting Y/N to face the dark truth of how Damian was conceived.

“Well, if you need to ta–”

“I know, Y/N. Thank you.”

Their moment was interrupted by the boys trampling in the drawing room.

Dick had Damian thrown over his shoulder as the boy screamed insults at both Tim and Jason. Clearly Dick was preventing a full-on brawl from errupting.

The bickering and teasing continued but wasn’t anywhere near as awkward or stressful as it was at dinner. Perhaps all the glasses of wine Y/N had were helping with that. She decided to simply sit back and watch the Wayne family.

Eventually it hit Damian’s bed time. Bruce insisted on tucking his son into bed. 

Jason took their leave as his cue to leave the manor. 

Tim went up to his own room. Except they all knew it wasn’t to sleep, but to get back to work and not stop until he was utterly exhausted. 

The drawing room turned relaxing as Dick and Y/N were the only two who remained. 

“You survived,” Dick pointed out with a chuckle.

“I did,” Y/N answered with a light laugh.

Dick let a moment pass before he asked,  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about your parents?”

She sighed, knowing Dick was going to bring this up at some point.

“Because I don’t tell anyone about them.”

“You told Bruce,” he countered.

Her brow furrowed. “And how do you know that?”

Dick at least looked guilty for answering, “He told me.”

She glared at him. “So is that what you two do now? You talk about me with each other? Swap notes?”

“Course not. But don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical getting mad about it?”

“Hypocritical?” She shot back.

“Yeah, hypocritical. You did a background check on every single member of this family. You know my entire past. You know every woman I’ve been connected to in my life. But the moment I know something about you, it’s not OK?”

“As if you wouldn’t offer that info freely if I asked…”

“That’s exactly my point, Y/N.” Dick sounded exasperated. “I’m trying to get to know you. I’m really trying. But now I know you’ve done it before. So I’m asking you to trust me enough to do it again.”

“It’s not that simple,” Y/N mumbled before walking out of the room.

Dick let out a groan of frustration and rubbed his face.

That definitely could’ve gone better.

But Y/N’s night wasn’t free of the Wayne men yet.

Just before reaching her bedroom door, Bruce crossed her path.

“Hey!” She snapped at him. “My past isn’t something for you to announce to whoever the fuck you want.”

“Y/N, that’s–”

“Save it,” Y/N snapped before he could get a word in. “Whatever broody and cryptic bullshit you’re about to spew…just…save it, k?”

And with that, Y/N slammed her bedroom door shut.

---------------------

Part 9

A/N: I know a lot of people really hate the Talia/Bruce sexual assualt storyline. But that was the version of Damian’s conception that I was most familiar with. I didn’t want to make light of it, because we all know male victims of sexual assault are not taken seriously – and that’s fucked up. But I also didn’t want to linger on it too long since it’s such a disliked plot point

Let me know what you thought of this chapter!!! Pretty, pretty please. 😔

[nev3rfound]

someone i once knew : b.b - p.3

tony has questions, but he isn’t the only one wanting an explanation (2.6k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX

(also thank you for the insane amount of support for this series! you guys have taken me by such surprise and i am so grateful you’re all invested :) ) 

Tony steps into your suite, trying to subtly notice the changes you’ve made whilst he was gone.

“Look, Tony, if this is about the files I’m really sorry,” You sigh apologetically, catching Tony’s attention as he turns to face you. “sometimes my R’s end up looking like N’s and I didn’t mean for it to look like I’d written Tony Stan-”

Holding his hand up, you stop your rambles as Tony raises a brow. “Y/n, that’s not why I’m here.” Tony interrupts you. “Wait, it said that?” He questions and you weakly nod, but quickly he returns to his original thought process; why he is here in the first place.

“Then, why are you here?” You ask nervously, feeling a pit begin to form in your stomach.

“Nat passed on a message, that you didn’t seem very well.” Tony explains, now pacing around the entrance of your suite whilst you remained still, too still for his liking. “And I overheard a conversation from two super soldiers discussing you.” Tony motions to you, catching sight of your eyes widening.

“I, why would they talk about me?” You question in disbelief, hearing multiple voices run through your mind, some yelling over Tony as he continues to talk to you, but you can only see his lips moving.

“-and that you know them somehow, funny really.” Tony huffs to himself as he walks in the direction of the small kitchen you have, noticing a glass half-filled with a single flower, dried out, dead. “Don’t you think, Y/n?”

The prolonged silence from you catches Tony out as he glances over his shoulder, seeing you stood calmly, tears streaming down your face.

“Y/n?” Tony calls out, carefully nearing you as he waves his hand in front of your eyes, but there’s no response. “FRIDAY? Get Banner for me.”

With a deep exhale, you collapse down to the ground. “I, I, I’m sorry,” You breathe out, coughing loudly on a sob that chokes your throat.

Kneeling down in front of you, Tony eyes your movements carefully. “What’s going on with you, Y/n?” He thinks aloud as you manage to sit upright, clutching your legs to your chest as a look of horror solidifies across your expression.

Bruce opens the door to your suite, looking alert as he notices both you and Tony on the ground.

“Everything okay, Tony?” Bruce asks hesitantly, seeing a level of concern cross Tony’s frown.

“Just, sit still, okay.” Tony instructs you, but you’re barely responsive as Tony walks away, taking Bruce outside of your suite as the door remains slightly ajar.

Rubbing his temples, Tony sighs. “What’s going on with her? Bad day or something?” Bruce jokes, but Tony shakes his head.

“I think she might be a plant.” The tone leaving his voice is enough to remove any humour from Bruce as he straightens up. “Somehow, Steve and Bucky know her, or at least knew her.” Tony explains. “But she seems oblivious, and I’m just wondering if she’s just like Barnes, waiting to be activated.”

Bruce hums in response. “What’re we supposed to do with her then if she’s potentially some killing machine?” The words feel sour leaving his lips, but Bruce has read the files on HYDRA.

Over Tony’s shoulder, Bruce watches as a small hand reaches out to the door and pulls it open.

Tony can’t help but tense as you stand against the door frame, a weak smile forming on your lips despite the dried tears lining your cheeks.

“I don’t know what’s going on with me, Tony.” You sadly admit. “Do, do you think you can help me, please?”

“Come with us, Y/n.” Bruce forces a grin as he walks toward the elevator, Tony hanging back as you slowly walk out and stand beside Tony.

“Can you help make it stop, Tony?” You plead to your employer who seems conflicted.

“We’ll do what we can.” Tony coldly states, walking behind you to the elevator, ensuring you stand between him and Bruce, just in case anything happens.

*

Your footsteps can be heard throughout the base as you follow behind the woman in charge. Heads turned as she walks with confidence, no one taking notice of who you are in her presence.

Pushing the door open to her office, you follow in and hover by the chair. “Please, Y/n,” Peggy motions to the chair as she closes the door, lowering the blinds too to ensure privacy.

“Thank you for meeting me, Ms Carter.” You speak politely, trying to keep a facade up that everything will be alright, but if there’s anyone who can see right through it, it’s Peggy Carter.

Rifling through the files on her desk, Peggy opens up a series of them as the papers cover the space in front of her. “Oh Y/n, call me Peggy.” Her red lips rise to a sincere smile, hoping you’d ease the tension you’re holding. “Well, the good news is I’ve had the report in from the Doctor, and you’re fit and healthy all around.”

You can’t stop the giggle of excitement escape you. “Sorry,” You mutter, but Peggy doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest; it’s the most positive you’ve sounded in the past two years you’ve known her.

“No need to be, there are still a few more tests we have to run on both you and the machinery. However, if all still stands, we should be able to do our first test run within the year.” Peggy explains, catching sight of the frown on your lips deepening. “I know this isn’t the news you hoped for today, but trust me, this is progress.”

Peggy reaches out, placing her hand on the desk. Slowly, you extend your arm, allowing her to take your hand in hers.

“We both lost, Y/n. But we can move forward.” She assures you once more, hoping someday you’ll believe it yourself.

“It happened again,” You explain, looking up directly to the clock, noticing five minutes have passed since you focused on it. “it keeps happening, more frequently than before and I can’t control it.” Panic rises in your voice as you perch on the lab bench, studying Tony and Bruce's reactions as they monitor you closely.

“So these, ‘memories’ aren’t your own?” Tony asks uncertainly.

Rubbing your eyes as they continue to pound, you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, they’re in my head, and I can remember aspects of them, certain noises, settings and sometimes people. I, I was with a Carter,” You squint, trying to remember her name, but you sigh heavily. “I can’t remember, sorry.”

“Carter?” Tony repeats, and you nod. “Interesting.” He mumbles as he helps Bruce hook you up to the systems, hoping to catch your next ‘memory’ and see your brain activity whilst monitoring your heart. “I, I’ve gotta make a call.” Tony excuses himself, nodding to Bruce before exiting the lab.

“If you can just lie down, Y/n.” Bruce asks you gently, seeing the fear in your eyes as you lie back. “I’m just going to place these on your head and chest.”

Closing your eyes, you try your best to relax whilst images of a brunette with red lipstick form in your mind. You can hear her faintly saying two names, but your ability to focus is gone once again.

Across the compound, Bucky is barely able to focus as he slams his fists against the torn punching bag whilst Steve stands on the other side, keeping it in place after Bucky nearly threw Sam across the room.

“Are you sure she’s okay?” Bucky shifts his attention across the gym to Natasha and Wanda’s conversation.

Natasha shrugs her shoulders as she stretches out. “I don’t know, she went dead behind the eyes and as I left her, Tony was heading her way.” Natasha explains, and Bucky looks over to Steve.

“Buck, I’m sure it’s fine.” Steve tries to help, but Bucky shakes his head.

“I can feel it, Steve,” Bucky mutters. “somethings wrong, I, I can’t just leave it.” He explains, swiftly walking off out of the gym as eyes turn to Steve holding the rocking bag.

Scoffing under his breath, Steve pushes the bag away from him. “Bad day.” Steve comments before running after Bucky before he can do any potential damage.

Sitting with his fellow soldiers, Bucky tries to disguise his rising fears, but his foot continues to tap against the ground. “You got a dame back home, Barnes?” One of the soldiers, Johnson asks and light laughter echoes through the cells as they all wait for some movement to be heard.

Lifting his head up, Bucky focuses on each of those he can see from his regiment, those who are left at least. No one is sure who captured them, but Bucky knows they aren't likely to get out of this scot free, or alive for that matter.

“I do,” Bucky admits quietly. “and she’s the most wonderful gal I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

“That’s sweet,” Johnson comments, sitting opposite Bucky as he wipes his bloodied nose with his palm. “just, just keep thinkin’ about her, alright? That sorta thought helps.” He nods to Bucky before resting his head back against the metal bars.

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers as footsteps can be heard, heading directly towards his cell. “if I don’t make it out, can you tell her I,”

Before Bucky can finish his sentence, two large men unlock his cell and grab him. He manages to catch a glimpse at the red band on their arms, noticing a different symbol than the Nazi one branded in his mind.

“Please, just tell her!” Bucky yells as he’s dragged out of sight, unaware of the horrors he’s about to face.

Focusing on Bruce, you tense as the stickers are placed on your forehead. “Sorry, did that hurt?” Bruce asks timidly, but you shake your head.

“Just kinda cold,” You nervously remark as the rest are slowly placed. “where did Tony go?”

Bruce looks past you at the glass walls, seeing Tony walk out of sight with his phone against his ear. “He, er, had to make a quick phone call. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly.” Bruce reasons as he attaches the last sticker to your chest before averting his attention to the computer systems.

Closing your eyes, you listen to the methodical tapping of keys and the sudden sound of your heart rate beside you flashing up on a monitor.

“Okay, all systems in place. Now it’s down to you to induce a ‘memory.’“ Bruce forces an anxious laugh as you simply look at him before tilting your head back to focus on the blank ceiling, a shame they couldn't cover it in stickers like the dentist used to, you think.

“Do you think I’m evil?” You ask, not daring to move your vision from the ceiling, unaware of Bruce stepping back.

“No.” He responds quickly. “I think you’ve been manipulated with, but I don’t think you’re evil.” Bruce justifies, checking the brain activity to see any spikes, but it remains standard.

“You’re acting like I’m made of glass.” You comment, now moving your head to see Bruce rubbing his hands together as he watches the monitors. “But I’m not, I, I know my parents, my childhood home and school." Your voice begins to waver, but you carry on regardless.  "I can tell you the classes I took in college, my first boyfriend and my first time drinking.” You ramble, but Bruce is trying to ignore you. “Please, I, I know who I am.” You whimper, slamming your head back as you stare at the bare white walls above you.

Outside, Tony listens as the line ends up with him left answering a voicemail for the third time.

“Fury, it’s Stark, listen, I need to speak with you urgently. There’s something going on with my new assistant, Y/n Y/l/n. She, she knows Peggy Carter and, just call me back, ASAP.” Huffing, Tony leans against the wall, wondering how he got himself into this mess.

Yet, his moment of contemplation is short-lived as yells from Steve can be heard up ahead.

“Buck, just stop!” Steve shouts as Bucky comes into view, eyes dark and fists clenched as he marches down the corridor.

“Woah, woah, where do you think you’re going?” Tony asks, standing in front of Bucky as Steve catches up in time before Bucky raises his fists.

Holding Bucky back, Steve grunts as Bucky fights against his hold.

“Where is she?” Bucky can feel the anger rising through his veins as Tony buries his hands in his pockets, remaining perfectly calm.

“Where’s who?” Tony asks, looking up to Steve who shakes his head, still struggling to hold Bucky back.

“Come on, Tony. We know you have Y/n down here,” Steve sighs, a brief moment of weakness that Bucky detects as he slams his elbow into Steve’s stomach, causing him to recoil and release Bucky.

Without a moment to lose, Bucky rushes forward to the lab and before he’s stunned by Tony, he catches sight of you on a metal slab, hooked up to machinery with tears streaming down your face.

“No, Y/n!” Bucky screams, pausing by the glass wall, his metal hand resting against it as you begin to turn your head, a second too late as Tony fires a stun at him, forcing Bucky to the ground.

Your breathing increases, causing your heart rate to spike and Bruce rushes over. “Hey, Y/n, it’s fine. Tony has just er, stunned him.” Bruce explains, but your eyes widen.

“Bruce, I, I need to see him, please, let me see Bucky.” You practically beg, trying to pull the wires from yourself but Bruce manages to hold you down before you notice a needle piercing your arm.

With heavy eyes, your focus on Bruce begins to fade. “I’m sorry, Y/n. We’ve gotta keep you here.” His voice sounds too far away as your vision darkens, the last of the ceiling disappearing as your eyes close.

Bucky grunts as he remains on the ground, but turns his head to see Tony stood with his hand covered by his Iron Man tech, a glow of pale blue emitting from his palm, yet to be fired.

“You alright, Buck?” Steve calls out from beside Tony.

Not responding verbally, Bucky nods as he uneasily stands, holding his hands up and remains on the spot where he fell, out of sight from you.

“Tony, lower your hand.” Steve scoffs, and Tony hesitantly obliges, powering his charge down. “I told you not to come here, Bucky,” Steve comments like a disappointed parent, but Bucky’s jaw clenches as he looks at the floor beneath him, the scuff marks from where he fell moments prior.

“Are one of you planning on telling me what the hell is going on here? Because I’ve got a delusional assistant having a brain scan in there who might be a potential HYDRA plant and I want answers.” Tony steps forward, looking between the two super soldiers. “No, you don’t wanna tell me?” Tony raises his arms in defeat and begins to walk away, back to the lab.

“Bucky,” Steve mutters to his friend who eases his jaw and finally looks up.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” Bucky speaks up, and Tony spins on his heels, facing Bucky. “she was my fiance.”

Tony stares at Bucky in disbelief before whistling loudly. "Well, I didn't expect that."

P A R T  F O U R 

(thank you to the following for all the love in the first two parts! if you’d like to be tagged in this mini series do let me know) (tagging those who wished to be tagged from p2!) 

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@firewhiskyss: 🎢 harry with either “That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?” or “I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.” because my heart can’t handle angst rn 😋☝🏼|| for my 300 followers celebration

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Muggle!Reader

Summary: Being stuck in the elevator is bad enough, but being with a stranger makes matters worse.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: not proofread, light cursing, elevators, power outage + let me know if i missed anything

A/N: too bad u cant handle angst i could’ve found ways to sneak that into this hehe jk anywaaayy ok i felt uninspired sorry hydagjih

Harry held a bag he did not own in his hand. His shirt was a bit muddied and moist on one side, but he didn’t mind. He stood in front of the eighth door he’ll be knocking on in hopes it was the owner of the bag. It still wasn’t, though.

Instead, a woman his age greeted him with a smile. She was pretty, sure, but she wasn’t what he was looking for. He apologized for interrupting and went ahead to knock on the ninth door.

It swung open, and Harry let out a long sigh.

AN HOUR OR SO AGO

“Hold the door!” said a voice from the lobby. Harry pressed the open door button in haste, the doors doing as it was told to do. The figure rushed inside, hair dripping wet on the tiled floor of the elevator. He kept his eyes trained to floor as she moved his way to press the button to the eighth floor. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

The girl next to him began to dry her drenched hair with a purple towel, patting herself dry. Harry risked a brief glance in her direction — she was wearing a floral one-piece swimsuit which she layered with denim shorts. When she caught his eye, they both inched away from each other uncomfortably. To their relief, the elevator started to move up.

Nobody seemed to be coming in just yet. After all, it was six p.m. and most were probably outside biding their time for night swimming. Harry, on the other hand, just came down to get a box of doughnuts for Mr. Weasley, who he can only assume was changing into his swimming trunks in their hotel room. The rest were probably doing the same.

Harry was waiting for it to reach the ninth floor when the elevator lurched to a stop on the seventh. While Harry refused to meet eye contact with the girl next to him, she was busy trying to convince herself it was alright.

It’s okay, she thought to herself as she made a show of more aggressive patting of her hair in more of an attempt to calm her drumming heartbeat than to really dry it. Another passenger was probably just entering.

But she knew better, they both knew better. The lights above them began to blink in an inconsistent manner. To her dismay, the doors did not open nor did they continue to go up.

They both turned to each other with a bewildered look on their faces. Harry made to reach for his wand, but held himself back. Then the lights went out along with the tiny ones coming from the buttons. Harry froze. He heard the stranger next to him shift, probably wrapping the towel around herself. She had stopped pretending to pat herself now. Harry watched as her as she dropped her bag down on the wet tiled floor and pulled out a bulky gray block from it. Harry stood there awkwardly as if a statue while she kept on fumbling with the block thingy he now recognized was a flip phone. A light glowed from it, her face looking similar to that of a ghost.

She pressed it against her ear, but it seemed to not be working. She then raised her hand higher in hopes of getting better reception to no avail. Harry cleared his throat. The girl’s head whipped to his direction. “The emergency call button,” said Harry.

“I know,” she spat, reaching out for the buttons. But instead of clicking that particular button, she clicked the button for opening doors. Harry noticed she seemed to be shivering a bit even with the towel.

The girl was still dripping, albeit lesser now. She kept pressing the open door repetitively with her wrinkly fingers. Harry remained stiff, unsure if he should use his wand. “What floor are we currently?”

Taken aback, Harry didn’t respond for a couple of seconds until she reached out to his shoulder to check on him. “Oh, er — seventh, I think.”

He then heard her click a button he supposed was for the seventh, then a bunch of other buttons the next.

“We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die. . . .” Harry found that he preferred the constant clicking noises from the buttons over her constant reminder of their ‘impending doom.’ It was like fourth year all over again when their Divination teacher Professor Trelawney kept telling him he was going to die an early death. She kept chanting to herself in hysterics.

“Have you tried . . . the emergency call button? The one with the bell?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” said the girl. To his surprise, she picked up her bag again and aimed it at the elevator door before swinging it right in the middle. She then started banging her fist hard on the doors, pounding. “Help! I’m stuck! I mean, we’re stuck! Hello? I’m wi —”

“There’s a press to call thing here,” pointed Harry.

“Good,” she remarked as she practically run to it when the elevator made a creaking noise from above. The girl let out a shriek as she fell backwards and pulled Harry down with her. “Lie flat or we’re both gonna die!”

“Why — ?”

“JUST DO IT.” He did. Both of them sprawled their legs and he felt the damp floor wet his back a bit, but he was still weighing the pros and cons of pulling out his wand. Of course, if it were up to him, he’d pull it out in a heartbeat but the Weasleys’ vacation was on the line and he couldn’t jeopardize that by—

The elevator whined, and it felt as if it was moving a bit. “We’re gonna plummet to do our death!”

“Calm down,” said Harry, hardly knowing why he even bothered in the first place because he didn’t know what to say next especially with the girl’s expectant eyes on him. He thought of what Hermione had told them when they first came here, who then attempted to calm the others down about their feelings on Muggle Elevators. “Er — elevators are one of the safest ways of transportation with only the fatality rate of zero point zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-something-fifteen percent per trip.”

“Oh, shut up, stranger,” cried the girl. “There’s still a fifteen in that end. We’re gonna die, accept that!”

“You seem to be the one having troubles accepting that,” argued Harry back. She shot him a glare.

“I haven’t written my will and we’re gonna die. You see — you hear that rumble? We’re slowly falling down and we’re gonna die. I should have — should have taken the stairs. Please, please, please let me live! I swear I’ll start eating vegetables! This is it stranger, we’re gonna die.”

“That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“We’re about to die and you have time to think? Lie with your chunkiest bits on the floor to increase our chance of survival.”

He wanted to argue, but he resorted to inching further away from her and stretching his limbs awkwardly.

“Damn it, you shouldn’t have kept the door open!”

“How is that my fault? If anything, I was being nice,” said Harry.

“Being nice? You just sentenced me to my death and now I’m dying in this cramped space in a swimsuit and shorts that aren’t even for swimming!”

Surprisingly, the elevator whined to a stop. They remained on the floor for half a minute. Eventually, she was the first to stand up. Dusting herself and not meeting Harry’s eye, she smashed the bell button with her finger. It buzzed for a few seconds before a guy’s voice answered.

“Hello,” said the operator. The intercom seemed to be having troubles.

“Uh, hello, hi,” replied the girl.

“So are you currently stuck in the elevator?” Harry could hear the girl turn to him in the dark and call up the look of utter disbelief, as if wanting to reply, ‘No shit.’

“Yes, very much.”

“Okay, are you alone?” asked the operator.

“Unfortunately, no. I’m with . . .” she trailed off, turning to Harry with prolonged contemplation. “With stranger. I’m with stranger. A stranger. With a stranger, I mean.”

“May I know your names please?”

“Uh, sure? I’m . . . Papier Matchen and this is —”

“Har — Neville. Neville Longbottom, sir,” answered Harry. The operator did not respond. “Neville Longbottom.”

“Are you both guests?” asked the operator.

“Yes,” said [Y/N]. “Wait, are you a guest?”

“I am a guest,” said Harry stiffly.

“He’s a guest,” she added, as if in an attempt to keep whatever morale is left high. The operator didn’t respond again. “Hey, uh, operator? It would really help if you didn’t keep disappearing on us.” She chuckled nervously.

“What floor are you currently on?” said the voice with a bit more static.

“Uh, well,” she said, turning to Harry, “last time we checked, it was on the seventh but it moved down a bit and we might be in-between floors seven and six.”

“Alright, thank you. We’re currently experiencing a city wide power outage, and it appears that the back-up battery in Elevator Three has not yet been replaced since the last brownout. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Yeah, you should be sorry. So, uh, is any of your authorities gonna come and pick us up?”

No response. She pressed the button again. And again. And again. No sound came, not even static. “Hello? Hi?”

When no one responded again, she slumped to the floor once more, her hair still wet but no longer dripping. “Sit down,” she said, pointing at the spot right next to her. Harry obliged. “You can sit across, I don’t care. I know I smell like chlorine right now.”

Harry sat across from her, leaning back against the wall. She didn’t talk either. This went on for about five minutes until Harry had the urge to do something or at least say something.

“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking,” he started.

“A dangerous pastime, you should be afraid. Go ahead,” she said, gesturing a finger gun his way.

“Shouldn’t we try to get out of this?”

“Who are you, Bruce Willis? Need I remind you that you are Nev . . . Bottom?”

“That’s not actually my name,” said Harry.

“Same, I just said Papier Matchen off the top of my head. Like papier mache but witchy. My name’s actually pretty good, I think. I’m [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Oh, wait, nope, don’t like it.”

“I think it’s good.” [Y/N] turned on her phone and shone it around until it landed on his face. Harry realized he had kept the box of doughnuts in the corner when she made them sit down. “I’m Harry,” he said when she finally turned off the phone.

[Y/N] turned it on again and directed it to the box of doughnuts. “Are those doughnuts to make us super tiny like Alice in Wonderland or something?”

“Oh, those are for my friend’s father.”

“Let’s eat it, I’m hungry,” said [Y/N].

“It’s for my friend’s father.”

“You have to realize that that is so not a good enough point. We’re trapped in an elevator with no means of communication with that musty man and eating that is the only thing we can do. Unless you want to do something else?”

“Er — What?” choked Harry, clearing his throat. “Okay, fine, uh, doughnuts.”

She made a triumphant sound Harry couldn’t explain, but paid it no mind as she reached out to grab the box of doughnuts from the corner. She set it in front of her.

“Hey, these are from my aunt’s bakery.”

“They are?” asked Harry.

“Yeah! The one across the street from here?” asked [Y/N], to which Harry nodded. “Ooh, you got the one with Oreos? Nice! I helped design those.”

“Okay, uh, can I have some?”

“I thought it was against your will to take some of these from your ’friend’s dad?’” teased [Y/N], but she handed him a doughnut anyway. Harry began to eat just like she did. “Sorry I forced you to lie down here. . . .”

She looked at him, waiting for something. What? Harry furrowed his brows, confused.

“Sorry, I mean, what’s your name again?” asked [Y/N], hints of the chocolate stuck between her teeth and some on her lips.

“Harry Potter,” replied Harry, who debated against himself whether or not he should point it out. After all, she seemed to be having a good time and they just started to lose the tension. “You’ve got uh, something on your, you know.”

“I know,” said [Y/N], but she didn’t do anything about it. “Anyway, can you believe six and seven are lucky numbers yet here we are, stuck in the wretched elevator between them?”

“No, that’s why I don’t really believe in those . . . things.”

“I’d say that’s insulting, but I’m dripping in my swimwear while I’m stuck in the elevator with a total stranger, so fair enough.”

Harry didn’t know how long they were talking, but it just went on. He was pretty sure there were times he even laughed. Harry reached out to grab another doughnut when he realized she was holding it as well. They both let it drop back to the box.

“Oh, no, it’s yours,” said [Y/N].

“It’s okay, you can have it,” said Harry.

“I ate more than you did, you can have it. Just go,” said [Y/N].

“You can —”

“You know what? Let’s just split it.”

[Y/N] ripped it in half, handing him the bigger slice. Just when Harry was going to offer to exchange, she swallowed it whole.

“Too late, I ate my half already.”

“I can see that,” said Harry. He began to eat his own half, savoring it with three more bites.

“Sorry I smell like chlorine again.”

“Eh, I don’t know, it’s kind of growing on me,” said Harry. “I shouldn’t have said that, sorry.”

“On a good day, that would sound like an insult but it’s anything but a good day, so, thank you, I guess.”

The two shared a laugh (and most definitely three) the entire time when the lights turned on. They could see each other clearly now. There was no denying they felt quite vulnerable — like finally meeting an friend you only send letters and emails to for the first time, but she smiled to make it feel lighter.

Suddenly, it started to move up again, [Y/N] kept them seated just in case it started plummeting again. It didn’t, though. It opened on the seventh, as the indicator told them so.

The intercom buzzed once more and different operator spoke. None of them stood up.

“Hi, power’s slowly being restored. How’s everyone?”

“We’re good,” said Harry. [Y/N] smiled in the shadows, tossing the towel in the corner. “Wait, you’re — er — good, right?”

“Yeah, surprisingly so,” she said.

“Good to hear, we’re currently doing the best we can to cater everyone’s needs. Has your, uh, elevator moved yet? Sorry, I’m new here. Anyway, has it?” asked the operator.

“Currently open on the seventh floor, but we’re both going up, all’s good now, don’t worry,” answered [Y/N]. She stood up, taking the towel with her.

“Okay, great, thank you and take care!” said the operator before the intercom buzzed off. Harry and [Y/N] stood there as the elevator door closed shut and began to move up and open again to the eighth.

“So,” started [Y/N], “this is me. My floor, I mean.”

“Right,” said Harry

“Well, I still don’t like elevators and I may or may not ride one ever again so I can’t believe I’d ever say this because it’s hella cheesy but thanks for making it bearable.”

“I feel like I should say, ‘you’re welcome?’” said Harry.

“Oh yeah, you should.”

The door began to close, but Harry pressed the open door button.

“Okay, you’re welcome.” The two shared lighthearted laughter. “Anyway, er — thank you, too. See you around?”

“Yeah, yeah, see you around. Bye.” [Y/N] waved as the doors closed between them and Harry was once again all alone in the elevator.

He noticed what a mess the floor was, and went to pick up the empty box of donuts. His hand went to where he kept his wand to clean up and looked around for cameras and found one tucked in the upper corner. Harry let his hand down and dusted his shirt with his hands when something caught his eye. A beach bag in the corner, resting carelessly.

The door finally opened to the ninth floor. Harry was frozen, looking directly at a long hallway of doors. It took a few seconds until it whirred and shut close. Not knowing what to do, Harry picked up the bag and swung it over his shoulder.

He tapped his foot as he waited for the elevator to go up to the twelfth floor until it began going down again. He pressed the button to the ninth floor again.

Ten.

Eleven. A couple his age entered, probably about to go down. Narrowed eyes landed on him and his dirty shirt and pants, but he paid them no mind.

Twelve. The couple started to talk about their plans on the honeymoon tomorrow. Harry busied himself by playing with the straps of the beach bag. He realized just now it had her name inside one of the straps lazily written with a sharpie. [Y/N], it stated.

Eleven again.

Ten again.

Nine again. The door opened, but he did not step out. Of course, the couple began to eye him with suspicion now as he reached out to press the button to the eighth floor.

Eight. When he stepped out, he heard the hushed but relieved sighs from both of the other two behind him as the elevator proceeded to close shut and go down.

Harry knocked on the first door. A man in his pajamas answered. Harry muttered an apology as he walked away to try the second door. He heard the first door swing shut.

The second door was equipped with a sign on the doorknob saying, ‘Do not Disturb.’ So, of course, Harry moved on to the third. He heard loud sounds of children playing inside. When he knocked, a tired woman carrying a toddler in her arms answered. Harry apologized once more and moved on.

Harry’s shoulder was aching, so he let the bag down and simply held it in his hands.

The fourth door was answered by a middle-aged man holding a glass of wine.

The fifth door’s knob held the same message as the the second — ‘Do not Disturb.’

As you may recall, Harry held a bag he did not own in his hand. His shirt was a bit muddied and moist on one side, but he didn’t mind. He stood in front of the eighth door he’ll be knocking on in hopes it was the owner of the bag. It still wasn’t, though.

Instead, a woman his age greeted him with a smile. She was pretty, sure, but she wasn’t what he was looking for. He apologized for interrupting and went ahead to knock on the ninth door.

It swung open, and Harry let out a long sigh.

An older woman greeted him with a pleasant smile. “Hello, dear,” she said. He took a shot and asked if she knew anyone by the name of [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Unfortunately though, she did not.

Harry finally made it to the last door. He knocked once more, holding the bag tighter now. A little kid answered, with her parents and siblings in the background, eating pancakes. They did not know of someone named [Y/N] [Y/L/N], either.

Shoulders slumping, Harry made his way back to the elevator. He pressed the up button.

“Excuse me?” called out a voice from behind him. His heart skipped a beat. Wait, don’t skip, he thought to himself.

It still wasn’t her. It was the same girl from the ninth door. “Yes?”

“You’re looking for [Y/N]?” she asked. “[Y/N] [Y/L/N]?”

“Er — yes. Do you know her?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, she’s in the shower. Is that her bag?”

“Oh!” He almost forgot that he was holding it. “Yes, yes it is.”

“I can give it to her,” called out the woman. She closed the door behind her, making her way towards him. When she was close enough, she extended her hand.

The elevator dinged open. Harry was about to hand it over to her, when he decided something else.

“Er — no, uh, I was actually hoping if I could see her.”

She let her hand down, grinning. “You must be Elevadork.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s an inside joke,” said Harry.

“You can wait inside,” said the girl. “I’m Karolina, by the way. She’s just showering because she’s, and I quote, ‘will be too unlovable if smelling like chlorine.’”

Harry chuckled as Karolina led him to their hotel room. It was just like every other room he had seen, then he saw the same towel she had with her just a while ago when they were stuck with only each other’s company.

“He was nice, though. I wouldn’t mind seeing him again. By the way, we’re out of hair conditioner. My hair badly nee — Harry!” [Y/N] tumbled backwards to the bathroom with a different towel wrapped around herself. Harry’s eyes widened, and he turned around.

“He wanted to return your bag and ask you out,” said Karolina.

“That’s not what I actually said,” whispered Harry, turning crimson.

“Honey, trust me, it was definitely what you said,” laughed Karolina, patting him in the back. “You might want to change first.”

“I guess,” added Harry.

[Y/N] rushed to the get her clothes from one of the two beds and ran back to the shower, where she hastily pulled on her shirt and checkered pajama pants.

“She’s done changing, by the way,” said Karolina, patting Harry on the shoulder again as she left to pour iced tea for herself.

[Y/N] led Harry out, earning two thumbs up from Karolina, who was beaming up at the two of them. “How’d you find me?”

“Fate,” said Harry mockingly, as if from a show. She giggled. “I knocked on all the doors in this hallway.”

“To return a bag?”

“Sure, that, too. But mainly to ask if you’d like to get some — er — doughnuts with, uh, me. I really want to bring some up to —”

“Your friend’s dad, right,” [Y/N] cut out. “Are we still taking the elevator?”

“Yeah,” said Harry.

They finally reached the elevator, where they stood side by side.

“Aren’t you going to change first?” asked [Y/N].

“Nope,” said Harry, pressing the down button. He turned to [Y/N], looking at her shirt. “Does that say ‘Treacle Treat?’”

“Yeah, like as in Trick or Treat. See the pumpkin?” She pointed at the bottom part of her shirt.

“Oh, there it is.” The two were laughing even when they stepped into the elevator. They exchanged a knowing glance at the sight of scattered crumbs of doughnuts on the floor, not daring to talk about it in front of one another guest.

As the elevator began to go down, Harry realized he might as well believe in the lucky numbers. After all, if it weren’t for six, seven, and nine, he wouldn’t be here right now standing shoulder up to shoulder with the girl wearing a funky shirt.

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