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icerosecrystal · 4 years

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Jasonette - A Second Chance Pt. 2: Reactions

A lot of people wanted a part 2 for my one-shot Jasonette - A Second Chance. Thank you to everyone who requested it. This is basically the reactions of the bat fam and Paris to the deaths and the revelations.

(The BatFam’s Reaction to Talia’s death)

Damian didn’t know what to think about his mother’s death. Yes, she was a horrible mother, but she still raised him. After everything she did to him, she was still his mother. He wanted to kill the girl, Marinette, for killing his mother. For taking away one of his parents. Even if she had bonded with him, her personality could be a facade. He was quite prepared to make her pay for actions. He had even grabbed his katana and was walking to Marinette’s room. He was about to enter and give her a piece of his mind when he heard sobbing. He put his ear against the door to listen better.

What he heard made him feel so guilty, “I made a promise that I wouldn’t kill anymore. I broke that promise. Deep down, I am a murderer.” He stumbled away from the door in shock. She thought that by killing Talia, she was a murderer. Marinette wasn’t blaming anyone for her actions but herself.

Damian went to his room and reflected on his own life. Now that he thought about it, he was much like her. They had both killed people. They also changed their ways after associating themselves with new people, in both cases the Waynes. Damian could still hear the despair in her voice as she talked to Todd. The heart-wrenching sobs. His family had given him another chance even though he had killed many. Even though he was a bratty child, he got a second chance. That was when Damian Wayne made up his mind. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was like his older sister. He would help her grow and would help her heal from her past. But most of all, he would give her a second chance.

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Bruce didn’t know what to think about Marinette killing Talia. He understood in this situation that it was an act of self-defense, but she could have easily disarmed Talia instead of killing her. Bruce rubbed his forehead in irritation. He never condoned killing, especially after what happened to his parents. His parents. He frowned in thought, did Marinette ever mention having parents? She mentioned the liar, the ex-partner, the villain, and the ex-classmates, but never her parents. Did she not have any?

Bruce went over to the Bat Computer and put in the name Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He found her record. She was obviously stated as dead. It seems like, at her funeral, her grandparents were present. But, her parents were nowhere to be seen which prompted a lot of questions out of the funeral attendees. When Bruce tried to find her parents, he found that they were very much alive. So why didn’t they attend her funeral? He tried to find something, but couldn’t. But something then caught his eye, some customers of the Dupain-Cheng bakery had commented that a couple of months before her death, Marinette wasn’t seen much at the bakery. Her parents, the owners, were also a lot more temperamental. A lot of customers suspected that Marinette was either being abused or neglected, although they couldn’t tell which. In Bruce’s opinion, both were rather concerning.

Bruce leaned back against the chair in thought, Marinette really had nobody left. She had a valid reason for revenge and took it. He thought back to his own parents’ death. It had been heartbreaking, but he had had people such as Alfred to comfort him, and help him. But Marinette, she had no one through all her heartbreak, no friends, no family, nothing. And now she had that chance, but it was ruined by her killing Talia. Bruce then decided that this would be the one instance that he condoned killing, and he would support Marinette and help her get her second chance at happiness and a family.

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Tim was still unsure whether or not everything was a hallucination. Once he realized it wasn’t he couldn’t believe it. Talia, the person who had somehow managed to escape death so many times was finally dead. She no longer had the ability to manipulate people. Tim didn’t really have a relationship with Talia, not the way Damian, Bruce, or even Jason did. But, he truly believed that life would be a bit easier without Talia Al-Ghul being a part of it. In terms of Marinette killing her, he was willing to give her a second chance, for he knew that she didn’t mean it.

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Dick was ecstatic the Talia was dead. She was a major bitch. Dick still remembered the night terrors that Damian experienced when he first came to the manor. He still experienced them, but they weren’t as drastic, thankfully. But, Dick would always hate Talia for pushing such a young boy to do so many bad things, that the moment he escaped those, he would experience vivid flashbacks of them. No, he was not sad or mad about Talia’s death. Not the way the other members of his family might be. And he didn’t blame Marinette in the slightest. He instead thought of her as a hero, but if she wanted to forget the fact that she was ever killed, he would respect that. He would give Marinette a second chance, the same way he did to Damian a few years ago.

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As Jason listened to his beloved pixie sobbing, it made his heart wrench. She didn’t deserve this, she didn’t deserve any of this. Yet, she had to experience things that many people don’t experience until much later in their life, or at all. He was mad at everyone who hurt her. He wanted to hurt them until they begged and said sorry to her. But, he knew that that wasn’t what Marinette would want. She would want to move on and start a new life and have a second chance as he suggested. As he rocked Marinette in his arms, he thought about Talia’s death. He didn’t think that Marinette killing Talia was bad. She was acting in self-defense, and he would rather it be that manipulative, prostitute of a bitch. His baby girl didn’t deserve to die after everything that she went through.

Besides, Talia had escaped death one too many times. Had she brought both him and Marinette back to life? Yes. Did they owe her anything because of that? No. She only brought them back to manipulate them into her little assassins. She wanted them to do all the dirty work for her. She and her father, Ra’s promised revenge, when really they were using their need for revenge as a leverage for them to stay in the league.

Jason looked down at the perfect little angel with a little bit of devil in his arms. She was beautiful. Her raven hair with navy highlights. Her beautiful heart-shaped face. Her pale skin with mildly flushed cheeks along with freckles sprinkled on said cheeks. Her pink pouty lips. But, his favorite part about her was her eyes. Her eyes were a beautiful almond-shaped, with long, dark eyelashes, and her shimmering blue-bell eyes. He loved the way her eyes held a different type of sparkle depending on her emotion. Yes, everything about her was perfect, and he’d be dammed if he didn’t give her a second chance to have a better life with him.

(Marinette’s Parents’ Reactions)

To anyone else, Marinette’s parents would be considered selfish and horrible parents. But to them, they thought that they were amazing parents. They always let Marinette do whatever she wants and never did ask her where she was because they trusted her so much. What they didn’t realize was that they were neglecting Marinette. When Lila came to their house along with some of her classmates and told them that they were bullying her, they thought that maybe Marinette was acting out because they were caring too much about her. So they stopped talking to her in hopes to give her more privacy and less of a reason to act out.

When she was revealed as the hero of Paris, they didn’t know what to think. And then she died. She looked so sad, but as she died, they saw a small glimmer of hope, as if she was excited to move on from her life. It was then that her parents realized that they were neglecting her. But it was too late to do anything. Their daughter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, was already dead, and she wasn’t coming back. After that, they stopped doing anything. They didn’t attend her funeral. They didn’t open the bakery much anymore. They were mourning for the daughter they lost, they didn’t think that anything else could happen to make them feel worse until it did come.

The murderer of the Agreste’s except for Emilie and Lila, as well as the revelations that the Agreste’s were villains and that Lila was a liar, was a huge wake-up call for her parents. They then realized everything they did wrong. They started neglecting their daughter even more because of the word of a liar. They were horrible parents. And as they sat down on the couch replaying the murderer of Lila Rossi, they felt tears slip down their face, for they lost their daughter in the worst way possible. That was the day that they swore that if they ever had a second chance at being a parent, they would do everything in their power to be the best parents possible. They owed that much to their dead daughter.

(School/ School Board’s Reactions)

Both Mrs. Bustier and Principal Damocles were receiving a lot of backlash from Paris for being allies in Lila spreading her lies. Yet, they both claimed that it wasn’t their fault that Lila had tricked them. The only problem was that they claimed that in front of the school board who automatically decided to fire them. What school staff didn’t take responsibility for their students?

The bigger problem was when the school board realized that both Bustier and Damocles were probably neglecting the students and taking bribes. These actions should have them in jail. So, the school board started a case against both of them. They gathered evidence every time they took a bribe and every time they neglected a student. They turned the case in and received the news that a trial was being held against the two. All of the students and parents in Mrs. Bustier’s class were present during the trial. When Mrs. Bustier claimed that it wasn’t their fault that they believed Lila, Mrs. Rossi got out of her seat screaming and attacked the two. She was beating up both of them and screaming that if they had stopped her from lying or had told her, then her baby wouldn’t have been killed. It took four security guards to stop her. Once Mrs. Rossi had calmed down, she looked at the judge and announced, “I want to sue both of them.”

The judge agreed, seeing that they both had no remorse whatsoever and were more concerned about saving their own skins. In the end, they both got sued, hat to pay a fine of 200,000 dollars once they got out of jail. As for their jail time, they had to serve two years for educational negligence along with four more years of taking bribery. It wasn’t a good day for those two. What made it even worse was that once they were released from jail, they were forbidden from going back into the educational field. Unlike many others, Mrs. Bustier and Mr. Damocles were not getting a second chance, at least, not for a long time, and that satisfied everybody.

(Now for the best part, the class’s reactions)

The class was appalled by many things right now. They first found out that Lila was a liar and they betrayed and beat Marinette for no reason. Marinette was Ladybug and she was dead. Lila had worked with Hawkmoth, Mayura, and later Chat Noir to betray Ladybug. She was tortured by an unknown person and was later killed. They were each tortured, and it looked like they were tortured based on how loyal there were to Lila, seeing how Alya, Lila’s “best friend” was tortured the most. Mrs. Bustier and Mr. Damocles were going to jail for negligence and bribery, and they were never allowed to cheat again. The last thing they found out a couple of days later.

The whole class was meeting up, not to do anything, just to sit down in silence and look back at their friendship with Marinette. Suddenly, everyone’s phone beeped, which was weird because Hawkmoth had already won. When Alya turned on her phone to see the news, what they saw left them aghast.

There was a picture of a dead Adrien, Gabriel, and Natalie, they were bloody and looked to have been murdered. Then Emilie came into view with a somber look on her face, Gorilla following her. This surprised everyone, wasn’t Emilie supposed to be dead? Then Emilie took a deep breath and started talking.

“Hello Paris, if you don’t already know who I am, my name is Emile De Vanilly. The reason I am using my maiden name is that I found out that my ex-husband, dead son, and ex-best friend hurt Paris in many ways and I don’t want to associate myself with them anymore. If you are wondering what they did, they were the villains of Paris. That’s right, Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth, Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir, and Natalie Sancoeur was Mayura. Both Gabriel and Natalie terrorized Paris, and then later convinced Adrien to join them as Chat Noir and betray his partner Ladybug. Because of my family, Paris was terrorized and Ladybug, or rather Marinette Dupain-Cheng in her civilian identity is dead. And the reason why they did all of this was because of me, they were trying to bring me back”, Emilie cut herself off and started sobbing.

Gorilla moved his hand to her shoulder as a sign of support. He then continued where she left off, “No matter what Emilie says, this is not her fault. She didn’t force them to do this. I myself had no part in all of this. I had no knowledge of it either, but I am sorry Paris, I should have questioned Gabriel’s strange disappearances. I also noticed how aggressive Adrien had been getting and blamed it on hormones. I noticed that Natalie always looked sick, but whenever I asked she and Gabriel would exchanged looks, but not answer me. I am sorry Paris, I failed you because of my naive trust in the family I served and my colleague. This video was just Emilie and I saying thank you for fighting through everything and we’re sorry.”

The video then cut to Nadia Chamak discussing the video but nobody in the class was paying attention anymore. Not only was one person in their class a fake, but two. Adrien, he looked so sweet and innocent. But, he had broken their class apart. He must have known that Lila was lying and let it happen. He let them bully the girl who loved him. He betrayed Paris for his own selfish wants. He had broken every one. And now, he was dead along with Marinette’s other tormentors. But the end to their reign had a price, Marinette’s life.

Nino sobbed in the corner, why had he ever been the best friend of someone like that? Alya felt so guilty, she had betrayed her ex-best friend for a girl with pretty lies, and she would never be able to apologize. The rest of the class felt the same, all of them sobbing their heart out. From that day, Mrs. Busteir’s ex-class never trusted anyone. They were a lot more reserved and wary of others, and would always fact check. They always made sure that they weren’t seeing the mask of a person. Why? Because they owed that much to Marinette. If they couldn’t be there for her then, they would give themselves a second chance, and be there for their future friends.

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Guilt, happiness, wariness, surprise, sadness, satisfaction, regret, everyone that Marinette knew personally felt something different. But they all had one thing in common, they were going to give her a second chance, give themselves a second chance, stop others from having a second chance. For a first chance broke all of them to pieces, so why not have a second chance, for all of them to do what’s right and make a difference? Because Marinette deserved that much, they had broken her, so they were going to fix others. They were going to do what they couldn’t do for Marinette, for she was special, and she deserved a second chance, everyone deserves a second chance.

#mlb x dc #maribat #miraculous ladybug #batman #jasonette #jason x marinete #marinette x jason #batfam #post revenge #reactions #second chances #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #mlb class

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

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i’m an idiot. i screw everything up.

Titans 3.03

still here, still doing this. these reviews take a fair bit of time that i cobble together across days (like, ten minute chunks during breaks, etc) and i tend to struggle to keep up with episodes as they come out. this means that by the time i’m done with one, most of my stuff is jossed (or geoffed in this case? idk) or outdated and the post sinks like a stone into oblivion. so! i’m going to change things up a bit with this one and write as i see the episode rather than collecting my thoughts later. in my experience with spn, that was a faster way to get them done.

anyway. let’s see how it goes! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS ahead.

1. an auspicious start with some grave-digging!

digging up a grave and breaking open a coffin is some serious, back-breaking work--that dick did it on his own, likely straight after that fight with red hood, is a testament to the sheer intensity, stamina and discipline that he’s capable of. like, we like to joke about dick cooking cauliflower crust pizzas and making gar and rachel spar and memorise sun tzu--and despair at the obvious consequences of some of bruce’s parenting skills--but imagine crime-fighting almost daily without any superpowers, performing some of the most intense parkour in bulky, uncomfortable armour, doing detective work, pushing through every last barrier of exhaustion and then getting up to repeat it all over again the next day. dick probably thought he was going extra-easy on rachel and gar.

1.5. then again, dick probably had a hundred different easier ways to confirm whether jason was still buried or not, from using equipment to merely asking connor to have a quick look with his x-ray vision. but, no, he’s too caught up in confusion and terror, not really having come to terms with jason’s death in the first place, leave alone the possibility that he could be alive after all. he can’t possibly let the others know until he’s confirmed it himself, even if it means digging all through the night until his arms are jelly, thinking over and over again about jason’s eyes, jason’s voice, from behind that red mask.

... besides, dick has good reason to believe that he could’ve been hallucinating. wouldn’t be his first psychotic episode, after all.

that just imbues this sweaty, desperate, fingers-scrabbling-in-gravedirt scene with that much more poignancy, and a fair bit of bone-chilling terror. dick is horrified to realise that jason’s grave is empty, but a part of him is also probably relieved.

1.75 (... also it’s curious that we’re never shown any of the team asking to see jason’s grave after they come to wayne manor. i guess it’s because the writers--and the audience--know that jason is actually alive, but these people don’t know that. i don’t know if it’s sad or infuriating or both that they’re barely shown mourning him.)

2. oh GOD the sheer TENSION in kory saying, “i don’t want to say it, but--” and dick quickly interrupting, “it was jason. i saw him,” and hank giving him this loaded sidelong glance. i love how dick’s precarious mental health from last season is still this big elephant in the room but at least nobody’s blowing up in his face and questioning his every decision yet

2.25. i love the relative matter-of-factness with which they’re discussing a possible resurrection. and, of course, ra’s al ghul is brought up and quickly dismissed

(still wouldn’t put it past this show to bring him up at the very last second as the real real mastermind)

2.5. “maybe they can bring donna back” OH KORY

2.75. didn’t they have this same conversation about killing/not killing rose last season? man, the og titans make me tired.

and i don’t know if it’s just hank, but there’s a definite in-group/out-group vibe going on with the og titans, where they’re not only ready to consider killing anybody who threatens the group but makes it difficult for new people to fit in. donna and kory got along well with each other, but the dynamics between hank/donna/dawn and gar/rachel/rose were somewhat strained, and with jason, they were really fucking terrible. it makes sense when you think about how the titans started and how they broke up the first time--both were fairly disruptive events, i’d imagine, in that they probably got together to break away from their mentors and strike out on their own, and when they split up, it was the first time they felt directly responsible for the loss of an innocent life.

but the titans that dick is leading now is explicitly about mentoring a young generation of heroes, about second chances and found family. dick definitely wants to reach out to him first, and i have a feeling he’s going to be forced to make some sort of terrible Choice later on in this episode.

2.8. (honestly tho, this also seems like hank struggling with his own guilt re: jason; if red hood is not the kid that he failed, it’d be easier to fight him.)

HANK NO

4. honestly this season is already ticking off so many things on my wishlist, but i really wish dick would sit down with the newer members of his team and trust them with important information the same time that he’s telling them to the other members. gar searching for help and reassurance from a man who just dumped all of his responsibilities on his son overnight and went AWOL is a sad sight

4.25. has it only been just 48 hours????? wow! jason’s definitely been planning the red hood gig for a long time now...

5. ezekiel, my man! shady looking guy gets into your cab without a destination in mind... no problem, get right in! said guy gets a call to go to the observatory when he’s barely even looked out of the window so far at gotham... yep, a damn tourist! i want more ezekiel in this show.

5.25. (of course jason has upturned table lamps all along the floor... we have to *gritted teeth* balance the TEAL with the ORANGE don’t we?)

5.5. “dick’s a fucking psycho--he could be following you right now.” hank... has no objection to that lol

5.25. hank, hank... this is bad-decision-palooza. i can’t imagine that hank actually thought that jason was reaching out to him for help, given that the last time hank and jason had any substantial interaction hank had been one of the people accusing jason of sabotaging the team. but for him to go seek out jason and go along with his demands without any backup, weapons or equipment? not the best idea he’s ever come up with.

(add to that getting into the swimming pool of a condemned gym... oh yuck.)

((yes, i have enough self-restraint to not cap his ass.))

(((cap his ass! HA!)))

5.5. do you think jason has bugs/monitoring equipment planted in wayne manor to monitor the titans, or remote access to the cave’s systems? wouldn’t put it past him.

6. oh man, hank came back before dick and the others could meet ezekiel! this is TRAGIC

6.25. i mean, it’s plot-convenient that connor was able to give so much information about the bomb from just looking at it once, but i also like to think it’s the luthor-side of him coming to the fore. it also reminds me of that (in)famous scene from the new52 run of Nightwing comics, where a bomb was attached to nightwing’s heart and luthor disabled it by killing nightwing (temporarily). it’s a neat little callback.

6.55. “where i come from, you go after family? there’s no mercy.” BUT THAT’S THE PROBLEM ISN’T IT

6.75. i mean, dick’s making sense: this is a game, and they need to get it off playing out on jason’s terms. but having a member of his team in his face, doubting his reasoning and every decision? a very familiar sight.

6.8. krypto with an a+ sense of humour? also a very familiar sight.

7. wayne enterprises... providing the military with... bombs that can be implanted in humans? a BIIIIG yikes. i guess it’s not too many steps above developing clandestine intra-dermal trackers and implanting them in your own sons, and bruce probably thought they could be used as part of negotiation tactics, but still... YIKES.

7.5. on the other hand, conner being asked to build a deactivation advice seems part of a growth arc that started from last season... he knows so much, but part of growing is learning, and part of learning is using what you know to create something new.

8. oh man, my heart broke at hank going “i’m an idiot... i screw everything up.” like. for him to go like this, after being brought down to such a low last season? struggling with pain and addiction and his relationship with the love of his life? it’s so sad.

9. oh, oh, oh! ronnie from schitt’s creek! i love her!

9.5. “one of jason’s minions” took his body out of the morgue... how deliciously morbid that he planned out his own death like this!

10. TALK TO HANK, DICK

honestly, tho, i’m quite impressed with dick here. trying to think beyond just the most alarming part of the crisis at hand, keeping his cool, delegating tasks, frequently touching base with different members of his team... well done.

10.25.... whoops, spoke too soon. i’m genuinely confused here, tho. where did the van full of gold bars come from? why did they stop there and get out? how did dawn even know about this?

on the other hand, it’s cool to know dove has bulletproof feathers!

10.5. eh... curran walters isn’t really selling red hood’s menace to me so far. but then again, if titans version of red hood is vulnerable-kid-with-father-issues-trying-to-overcompensate, then yeah! yeah, it makes sense.

11. “when bats have sex, they gotta have something to hang from” OH GOD HANK

... because i want smiley!gar on my blog :)

11.5. awww. i feel sorry for hank but NONE of these fuckers deserve gar except maybe kory

12. ohhh FUCK! look at jason being exactly one step ahead of the titans at every turn. nice.

no really, i love the building stakes and the building mystery - i feel like the deathstroke arc from last season should’ve been more like this. the flashbacks about jericho and rose came too late and after too much build up, which resulted in a very underwhelming and confusing season throughline.

13. HANK AND DIIIIIICCCKKK

“you’re doing your best by me. always have.” WAILING HERE

it also kills me to think that hank thinks that his imminent death is because of his failure to keep the team together (when he was clearly struggling with his own issues and was spiralling towards rock-bottom) and his fear that he will once again be the cause of the team falling apart.

also:

14. “i grew up... you can, too. you just have to face your fear.”

yep, got scarecrow’s grubby little fingerprints aaaaalllll over this.

14.25. nightwing’s got specialised batarangs! yay! (somehow i can’t see this universe’s dick calling them “wingdings”)

15. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

oh man, that was devastating. well done, show. fuck, well done, jason.

this is going to bring up all sorts of “if onlys” for the team. i can’t wait for some fucking aftermath.

#titans #titans spoilers #dick grayson #hank hall #dawn granger #garfield logan #conner kent #jason todd #a tragic jalebi #meta

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bravescribbles · 4 years

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Trouble in Paradise Pt. 2 Power couple pt. 5

Here comes the angst! Dont say I didnt warn you...!! I also made a post before this one about some spotify playlist I made about the pairings in this ship except for Dickinette and Brucinette just cause I don’t have a particular feel for their music amongst my collecetion. But if you want to ask questions or make any suggestions about music choices, please let me know and I will be more than happy to discuss about them. Now here comes the angst

There was a shooting in Paris at an event that Sabine and Tom were catering at while at the same time Scarecrow attacked the post office where Mari was receiving a care package from her parents. Marinette was infected with fear toxin that made her hallucinate that her parents died in front of her while having Damian appear and kill her whilst saying that he never loved her and the arranged marriage was a bluff for his affair with Lila Rossi

While real-time in Paris they were shot at close-range point blank with a muzzled gun in the midst of the shooter rampage. Batman and associates arrived then gave her the antidote for the toxin but in the hospital where she is recovering she sees the news about Paris.

"Among the fallen were award winning bakers Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng owners of Tom and Sabine Bakery which had multiple store locations though their original was here in the heart of Paris on Ducal St., they are survived by their only daughter Marinette Dupain-Cheng- Al-Ghul who is also more commonly known as the fashion mogul MDC This Paris News 7 with the latest update, back to you Paul in New York."

Mari after that loses it completely, she had to be restrained and held in a psychiatric ward for a bit just for the safety of herself and others around her. She had to be placed in a medically induced coma just to let her body heal properly. Damien, on the other hand, is about to destroy anything in his warpath, first his wife was attacked by the Scarecrow and was made to be seen Ra's only knows what terrors. Him not knowing that he, himself was part of the terror that scarred his wife. Second his beloved aunt and uncle was murdered. Though he has his suspicions that it may have been an enemy of the League who killed them. *T’was not*

Hell was about to rise and no one was safe from his wrath. Once Damian gets to Gotham hospital, the doctors inform him about his wife being in the psych ward and her mental instability. Added punch to the gut she's pregnant. Only about 6 weeks but with everything that has been happening and her body being generally small the safest thing is consider an abortion and try later. Damian does not take the news well.

There may have been mistreatment of medical equipment added to the bill along with threats of harassment against the doctors...

He finds his disregarded family waiting outside her room and snarls in disgust because how dare they try to show sympathy for his wife in order to gain his trust. Bruce, Dick and Tim are the ones outside of the hospital room with Babs and Cass coming from the cafeteria with coffee in their hands.

“You have no business being here, this is an Al Ghul matter, which makes it a matter of the League.Not that is should concern any of you, leave now ibn kalb*” dismissed Damain despite protest from everyone.

He walks into her room and sees all the machines hooked up to his queen, who looks like shes been to hell and more, he grabs her hand tightly and leaves a kiss on her forehead, whispers to Mari’s abdomen

" hello amira*, i am your alab*, your mother is asleep right now, you have to help me wake her so we can be a family together."

Shes in a coma for about 2 weeks. There’s constant news coverage about her condition from the scarecrow attack along outpouring support from celebrities, actors, and average clients along with her Paris friends. Neither Sabine or Tom have any other siblings or family that collect their body. Gina has unforgettably passed away 3 years ago due to age, and decaying mental health.

Damain doesn't leave her side the whole time, he’s there during visiting hours every single day, he’s relentless about his search for Scarecrow in order to enact revenge for harming his wife and unborn child. He has lost a portion of his muscle mass due to not working out and lack of nutrition, he also has a growing 5 o’clock shadow growing due to lack of hygiene.

Though at night, Damian calls a truce with his father to take down the scarecrow, though on the other side of the world he has a secret op group that is hunting down the shooter that killed Sabine and Tom. They were not successful in that mission.

When Marinette wakes up though, she wakes up in the middle of the night, precisely when Damian and batfam take down the Scarecrow. Though all the boys have to physically hold Damain back from not taking of Scarecrow’s head right off. So she freaks out again though this time due to her scarecrow vision’s making it actually seem Damian ran off with Lila. When Damian finally gets to the hospital, he has to calm her down without mentioning anything about the baby to not further stress her out.

“Oh beloved I was so scared when I woke up, nobody was there and I thought you had left me alone”

“No my queen, I was taking revenge in honor of you, I’m ashamed that the disgrace of a father denied me my trophy but be rest assured that the enemy is contained.”

ibn kalb-Son of dog, amira- princess, alab-father) These are the rough translations, i did some research about son of dog, appearantly is an insult, though i can always be mislead, the other translations are from google so in case they are wrong let me know and I will adjust.

So this Pt. 2 of troubles in Paradise but by no means is that the end of it. We still have to see about the baby though and who shot Tom and Sabine, what is their motive? Let me know what you think! (I swear I thought I posted this yesterday but my dumbutt forgot to change save draft to post now.... oops

Taglist

@lenamau @fandomfan @vixen-uchiha @vanillacoffee-bean @the-fusionist, @naimena @maribat-2k20girl23 @myazael @winter-gardenflower @zestyzealot @moonlightstar64 @crazylittlemunchkin @dreamkitty25, @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @alexzandria-747, @damianette-is-life

#maribat #mb hc #powercouple

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold - Pt.9

The Flares

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 3090

Summary: Avenger!reader AU. Part 2 of Melting Hearts series. Part 1 HERE.

In which Steve has too many redheads in his life and they are a lot to handle. (Dealing with A:AOU, pt.2)

Warnings: swearing, light angst,... eh

Story Masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────

But did you see the flares in the sky? Were you blinded by the light? Did you feel the smoke in your eyes? Did you, did you? Did you see the sparks filled with hope? You are not alone 'Cause someone's out there, sending out flares

(The Script – Flares)

The hallucination – the vision, perhaps – was a true eye-opened. Not because it was any news that Steve was the one to blame for your departure, no, but because actually seeing possibly a very true picture of what was happening to you was something that felt like a bullet to his brain. It was maddening and it should have made him spring into further action; yet, Steve couldn’t find himself having a strength to get mad. He was just too tired. Exhausted, with the weariness settled deep inside his bones.

And while he never had been the one to weep over the universe apparently hating him, he allowed himself to feel that way; especially when Maria Hill advised them to lay low and Clint took them into a safe house.

Correction: Clint took them home. Clint Barton had a home without anyone knowing (except Natasha, because Natasha knew everything and shared nothing), two healthy kids and a beautiful loving wife, living in a rural idyll. And once that information settled in Steve’s head, his heart broke on an entirely new level.

He could have a home. He could see himself having a home. He might not have before, not after coming out of the ice, not even long after actually. Not even the first time he had realized he was in love with you, no. It came with gradually and Steve hadn’t been quite aware of it; perhaps that was the actual truth that the vision created by Wanda Maximoff had revealed. With that hallucination, it had dawned to Steve that he had been ready to go home, for a while now; no matter what exactly home looked like, no matter how much fighting he would still be doing, for how many mission he would be going or if he would be able to reduce that.

He was ready to go home and he wished to go home, with you.

And in reality, it didn’t matter, because the most essential part of what he considered home was missing.

It was a relief when Fury showed up and helped them to figure out how to fight back – the battles they actually could fight. It reminded Steve that there were still battles worth fighting. It took his dark thoughts away, or at least it pushed them on the back burner for a while.

Then again, meeting Maximoff’s once more wasn’t helping. And the girl, suddenly so eager to fix things she had done wrong, reminded him of you too much. He shook off the thought when he went for what could be the final battle and tried his best to focus. No matter how insane the suddenly levitating city was.

And then they all knew it was the end.

“Stark will find a way to blow this rock,” Natasha stated rather calmly as they caught a moment to breathe in on the battlefield.

It was surprising how much faith she seemed to have into Tony with how he kept doing things behind their backs – then again, everyone seemed to be keeping secrets from another lately. But that wasn’t what he found outraging at her statement.

The city was flying and there was no way to save all the people before Stark would make it explode. Lost lives. Failure. Again.

Not on his watch.

“Not until everyone’s safe.”

Natasha looked at him with disbelief, probably questioning his sanity. “Everyone up here, versus everyone down there-“

“I’m not leaving this rock with one civilian on it,” Steve exclaimed stubbornly, the flame of fury lighting up in him.

No. Not this time, not again. He had failed too many times. He had lost so many battles and he was not about to lose another one, he was not about to fail people again.

Natasha gave him a sad smile. “I’m not saying we should.”

The look they exchanged spoke thousand words. This was indeed the end. They truly wouldn’t leave – they would either save everyone’s life or more likely died trying. There was a strange peace in that. That was how he was supposed to go, right? Like a soldier. Like a person who had decided to dedicate his life to save someone else’s. He just selflessly wished it would have been yours or Bucky’s or of someone who was closer to his heart. But he didn’t get to choose.

It was as if Natasha read his thoughts, when she whispered: “There are worse ways to go. Where else am I gonna get a view like this?”

Steve looked briefly over the edge of the flying crater of the city. He would think Natasha was right; but there were so many things he would rather see before he would close his eyes forever. Your smile for example, no matter where the two of you would be. Just your smile, knowing you were safe and he hadn’t failed.

But Steve wasn’t destined to have such luck.

When Fury’s voice announced them that the view would actually get better via their comms, Steve couldn’t help but chuckle and feel a little flicker of hope. A flare in the endless darkness. Maybe there were things they could fix and people they wouldn’t fail after all.

He only realized he had been a fool thinking that, when it was over and one of the lives they lost was Wanda Maximoff’s brother’s. Strangely enough, Steve envied him. But only a bit.

────── ·❆· ──────

The weirdest thing was Tony Stark being the one to pluck up his courage not to give up. Not that he was aware of that.

Saying goodbye to him as Steve decided to stay at the army base with Natasha, Tony had told him something so simple that it shouldn’t have moved Steve the way it did.

“Maybe I should take a page from Barton’s book. Buy Pepper a farm, hope nobody will blow it up…” Tony hummed almost lost in thoughts and Steve was once again surprised how the billionaire managed to bring a smile on his face despite all of their differences.

“The simple life.”

“You’ll get that too someday,” Tony reassured him with a smirk that poorly covered the sincerity behind his words. It was the softness in his eyes that gave it away.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Definitely, Cap. You know that me taking off doesn’t mean I’ll stop looking, right? You shouldn’t either. She’s out there somewhere. We’ll find her and bring her home.”

Steve smiled shakily at him, feeling the familiar adrenalin and determination flooding his veins. Tony was right. You were out there and they would bring you home, they just needed to try hard enough.

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Any time, Capsicle.” Tony patted Steve’s arm before he slid into his fancy car, the door clicking shut. Then the window rolled down, Tony’s head sticking out. “Oh, and do me a favour. Pop the question when we do, okay?”

The captain felt his cheeks burn, a chill running down his spine as Tony somehow sensed the change in Steve’s longing, but he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Sure. Take care, Tony.”

The Iron Man saluted him with two fingers and with a roar of his sports car’s engine and a whole lot of whirled dust disappeared in the distance. Steve stared into nothingness for a an embarrassingly long time.

────── ·❆· ──────

He found Natasha absently staring into a wall, a tablet in her hand forgotten. She turned to him when the door clicked behind him.

“Done gazing into Tony’s eyes? Ready to go to work?” she teased, an easy smile on her lips.

The corners of her mouth rose higher when she saw his expression; she hadn’t seen him this determined for a while. It was funny what could make people happier. Natasha didn’t think losing Bruce somewhere in a quinjet could do that. Then again, they just saved multiple lives. Unlike her, Steve deserved the feeling of victory. If she didn’t feel quite the same, no one needed to know.

Steve’s thumbs slid into the loops of his belt as he stopped in front of her, rocking on his heels.

Uh-oh. Big announcement coming, she could tell as much, and she wasn’t sure she would like it.

“I’m ready,” Steve confirmed and one look into his eyes told Natasha that he spoke it was the truth – but not quite.

She knew that look too well. He had it every time they got a track on you. And since she knew for a fact that there were no new leads… her heart sank.

“Steve…”

Steve could immediately tell Natasha understood, just like he could see she didn’t approve.

“I should be out there, looking for her. I need to be, because she’s somewhere, alone, and she can’t hide forever. I’ll find her – but it needs to be my priority from now.”

“Steve,” she addressed him, softer this time, wary of her tone, so it didn’t sound like she was admonishing him. “We got no lead for eternity-“

“That only means we need to try harder!”

“We’re doing our best and you know it. The moment we get the tiniest lead – like the last time with early snow in London –, we drop whatever we do with the recruits and we’ll be on our way.”

“Natasha-“ he started out again, but she cut him off.

“You’re not the only one who’s desperate to find her, Rogers! But the world hasn’t stopped turning! There are still threats and we need to deal with it. She wouldn’t want to-“

“Don’t you dare to speak for her, Romanoff-!“

“For God’s sake, Steve! Do you really think she would have asked you not to look for her if she wanted you to drop everything and come find her? “

He gasped as he felt the air knocked out of him.

It pissed him off, the burning feeling of betrayal squeezing his chest. Why was she discouraging him from this? Why? And how dared she to speak for you? She hadn’t seen it. She hadn’t seen what he had, what they had been doing to you and finally it hadn’t been her idly hands letting you suffer, only watching it all happen.

Steve couldn’t hold it anymore. So he exploded.

“What she did was stupid! She could be tortured right now, Natasha, serving as someone’s personal lab rat! You said it yourself, we didn’t get a single lead-”

“Exactly. Where would you go?”

“I don’t know!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air helplessly, his breathing getting quicker. Because she totally hit the nail on the head – Steve had no clue, but he was sick it. He needed to know, he needed to do something, because just waiting for something fall into his lap was torture. “But anything is better than doing nothing!”

“We’re not doing nothing, Rogers. We just saved countless lives-“

“But not the one that mattered!” he cried out, his fist hitting the railing so hard it shook around the whole room. The sound of it resonated in the suddenly silent space as the severity of the sentence fell on both Natasha and Steve.

The redhead pressed her lips together, tears she would later deny gleaming in her eyes. Steve leaned onto the railing, bowing his head in defeat. He did not mean to say that. Especially not to Natasha, who had just lost Bruce to God knew where.

Shit.

“I’m sorry, Natasha, I-“

The spy shook her head, blinking the sudden prove of weakness from her eyes.

“I get it. And I agree with the stupidity, but she did it because she believed it was the only option and a right one. And I rather believe she’s just that good neither we nor anyone else can find her than that she was captured.”

Her voice was thick with emotions she didn’t want to show and the guilt stung harder in Steve’s gut. He was being an ass. A big one. A selfish one on top of that.

“…I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“I think I’ll live,” she sighed, lighting the tablet up. “I get it, Steve. I miss her too.” And I miss Bruce too. I’m scared for him, was left unspoken, but they both knew it might as well could.

“Yeah. I… I know.”

“And it’s not your fault she’s gone. I know you think it is, but that’s nonsense. Don’t beat yourself over it. Just don’t give up on her.”

Steve sighed, closing his eyes and attempting to regain his composure. His balled hands shook inconspicuously. He needed to be strong. He was expected to be strong, especially in front of the new recruits and no matter how much he hated it, moping wouldn’t help anyway. And hot-headed decisions, flying form one end of the world to another without an actual goal neither.

He cleared his throat. “Alright. What do we have here?”

“Bunch of kids who think they know what they’re doing.”

“And they are not a team.”

“And they are as far from a team they could be,” Natasha corrected him as she handed him the tablet and threw the door to a corridor leading to a training room open.

Steve studied all the names and pictures, mentally cataloguing them. “Sounds like a lot of work. Shall we start?”

────── ·❆· ──────

“Captain Rogers?” Wanda whispered shyly, her unmistakable voice heavy with accent.

Steve stopped in his tracks, trying to plaster a smile on his face. Interacting with her… it was too much. Her age, her powers, her persona – it was too similar, too much of a painful reminder of you and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the resemblance nagged him in the back of his brain like a constant itch he couldn’t scratch, because he couldn’t reach it.

“Yes, Wanda?”

“I’m sorry.”

Steve tilted his head, pretending his heart wasn’t beating out of his chest. Had she read his mind? She probably had, if not recently, then surely when they had been fighting against each other. But why speak up now? It must have been about something else.

“What for?”

“I am… still learning how to control the abilities,” she started hesitantly and it confused the hell out of Steve.

Was she apologizing for not making progress fast enough? They had just finished the first training. And of course, had fought a battle against an army of robots.

“That’s understandable. But you’re doing great.”

She smiled faintly. “Thank you. But… it’s… I can’t turn them off. I can… feel the pain and deep sadness settled in you.”

Steve froze. Well. Shit.

“And… when I caused you the hallucinations… I got a glimpse. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he rasped, not even shocked how the combination of her persona and the topic of their conversation brought right back on the edge. “You believed you were doing the right thing. We can’t change the past, but we can still do our best to make a better present and future.”

“Like she did?”

Steve glared into her eyes at the note, unable to say a word. She lowered her gaze.

“I said I got a glimpse, but she was almost everywhere – each of you thought of her. She always made an appearance, at least for a moment. I… I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I just… I guess I want to say thank you for giving me a chance to redeem myself and… and-”

“Wanda… you deserve a chance. You don’t need to thank for that. As for the other thing… I would appreciate if we kept the conversation about that on minimum.”

“Of course! I’m just… I’m working on some things, I’m trying to… to control someone’s emotions and I could help you to— I know it’s invasive!” she blurted out hastily as Steve’s expression changed into a horrified one. “But… with Pietro… I was able to keep tabs on him when on the field, we had a connection-“

“I’m very sorry for your brother, Wanda, I truly am,” Steve said softly, pouring some compassion in and resting his hand gently on her shoulder. Grief he understood too well.

“I… what I’m trying to say is that I would probably feel him at the other side of the world, because we were really close, and— and maybe-- maybe if you let me know Sno--- the person that you feel you have disappointed well enough, if everyone would let me… I think that perhaps with Vision’s help, I might be able to find her mind and track her down.”

Steve stared at the young woman paralyzed, absolutely stunned and with own mind a complete and utter mess.

Did she just said— did she-- could she really--- it sounded too good. It sounded insane. Like a sci-fi; but then again, his whole life was. This woman could read minds. She could move things with her mind, she could read emotions. She could---- could she really find you? It seemed impossible.

He didn’t want to give in to the hope. He always had, every single time the recognition system had found a face almost matching yours only to find a girl who could be your twin, every single time a weather anomaly occurred and he would chase down the lead like a madman only to find nothing, always scolding himself for believing you would be so careless. And the truth was, he was growing tired of it. He always followed, never letting the trail go cold, but with every failed attempt, he was being kicked lower and lower. The spark of determination from Tony had been very short-lived.

“Captain Rogers?”

“Yes?” Steve snapped from his daydreaming, eyeing Wanda absently.

“Your thoughts are screaming at me-- not your fault. Just… do you want to tell me about her? If I know her, I can start trying. And I understand we don’t know each other too well for you to open your mind completely so I could see and hear for myself. So… you could just tell me,” she suggested, this time being the gentle one. It was another reminder of you and it hurt like hell. And at the same time, the offer was painfully tempting. “I really do remind you of her a lot, don’t I?”

Steve gave her a sad smile, little broken on its edges.

“You have no idea.”

“Give me one, then. I could be a good listener.”

Steve chuckled as she offered him an elbow in a poor attempt of a joke and blinked away the tears he had no idea where had come from. He really should get a grip on himself.

“Okay. She… she was someone very special and unique…”

────── ·❆· ──────

Part 10

────── ·❆· ──────

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart, @murdermornings, @elisaa-shelby @ask-hellbent-tweek @cxptain, @kallafrench, @smilexcaptainx @scentedsongrebel, @orions-nebula

────── ·❆· ──────

Bear with me. Were geting back to our Snowflake to see what she’s been up to... and as ou can probably guess, things will happen ;)

Thank you for reading!

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x you #captain america x reader #avengers #captain america #steve rogers #avenger reader #heart too cold but friends of gold #anika ann

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yuliethebold · 5 years

Text

Let me rant about Titans

So, okay, "Jericho" has aired and I have, SO many questions, but I'm still not over "Bruce Wayne" and I don't even care, I need to talk about it.

First of all - Dick's hallucinating of Bruce manages to be a metaphorical kick in the face literally every single time he opens his mouth, period. Of course, we knew Dick was under a lot of fucking stress, and okay, yeah, that's expected, but this is more than just "a lot of stress" and wow. Okay, if that's how Dick sees himself, and his relationship with Bruce, and with the Titans, I can kinda get why he's got so large a Martyr complex, but???

Claiming he "killed" Jericho is totally in character for him, yeah. Sure. But N o b o d y, and let me say it again, NOBODY, should even consider agreeing with that bullshit. He was stupid? Yes. He was impulsive? Absolutely. It culminated in the events that killed Jericho? Yeah. Was he RESPONSIBLE for Jericho's death? No.

First of all, that was a choice. Second of all, Deathstroke fucking did it because he's a piece of shit, no matter his original intentions. See Rose. I'm not going to try and say Dick didn't have any responsibility for the events that occurred that night, but to say He killed Jericho is Too Much.

Also, the Old Titans! This has been said before but I don't care, I will say it again. They suck. They act like shits to Dick, they acted like shits to Jericho, they're kinda shitty to Rose, and don't EVEN GET ME STARTED on the way they treat Jason. Wait, do just that, but later. Donna fucking pisses me off on a personal level, Dove is There and kinda irritating and I can't help but feel as if her previous relationship with Dick was terrible for the two of 'em and now she's There ™, and my pity and understanding for Hank doesn't even come close to diminishing my fiery hatred for him.

Yeah Garth is gone, that sucks, I won't tell you to get over it, but don't be so fucking toxic you munchfuckles.

Also - Jason.

Oh my fUCKING GOD, Jason.

Okay so,, Season 1 Titans introduced Jason Todd, and it was like, Here's Jason Todd. He's irritating and arrogant and competent, in that order of relevance. And all of the Titans were like, "Yeah okay please go away" and I guess that's kinda understandable at that point. We as viewers liked Jason but he would probably be irritating to be with. But he wasn't there that much, so eh.

Then came Season 2 and he became a Regular (like literally everyone else) and that changed things, because in order to make him a regular they had to cut down on his annoying tendencies, so he was pretty okay. Cocky, yeah, but he behaves like someone his age should, and makes connections and is usually pretty okay. Again, cocky, but okay. But Titans also made Donna's comment on S1 into a thing, so S2 sticks with the "Nobody likes Jason Todd"™ for the most part, except for Garth, who he seems to have befriended

So when Deathstroke pulls a Kindergartner and pranks everyone in the building because? I fucking guess? Rachel immediately decided Jason was the Antichrist and blamed him, even though he was CLEARLY having some sort of dissociative episode, because???

And yeah, some of their interactions in the season are Very Shitty. Jason called her a freak when she almost killed him, suggested she be exorcised when she almost killed him, etcetera... Yeah I see a trend there but still.

So she walks away after accusing him and everything else and immediately brings everyone else to her side because???? And it works? Which makes no sense. I can SOMEWHAT see why Rachel would think Jason did it (though it's still pretty petty and asshole-ish) but HOW IN THE WORLD'S NAME WOULD JASON KNOW TO PUT THE KID'S PICTURE ON HANK'S ROOM OR THE WHOLE THING WITH GARTH AND A FUCKING SODA CAN??? "HE'S TRAINED BY BATMAN" DOESN'T MEAN HE'S FUCKING TELEPATHIC? So they all jump on the "Verbally Beating Down the traumatized kid" anD EVEN GAR BUYS INTO IT??? NO FUCK THAT. fuck THAT.

Also, that whole thing with Jason calling himself poison and Dick saying he's the poisonous one??? It's cute because, Hey, Brotherly Moment, but holy shit that's unhealthy. Fucking hell. And Jason's whole """plan""" was,,, fucking fuck. I will punch someone.

#titans #titans (2018)#jason todd #dick grayson

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elecilaombre · 5 years

Text

Alone

This fic was originally wrote in french, and I struggled quite a lot to translate it without spoiling the meaning behind the words. It’s Tim centric and an “Stalker AU” ( I guess) in a no cape AU, idk... anyway, it’s quite long, around 8k words ... Also it is one of my work who are kind of important for me so I hope you will enjoy it ! And a big thanks to @crypterion-moon who kindly corrected it and helped me to translate it in a correct english, you are a blessing ! And to you @nanadrawsrobins who wanted to read it ! Happy reading !

// trigger warning : mention of paranoia, depression, suicide, death, blood and stalker \\ I don’t believe it’s too hardcore but better safe than not....

“ At first it was just an impression,as if I was being followed, or spied on. From time to time, I’d turn and catch a glimpse of a leaking form. But it was alright, my fault, I always blamed my lack of sleep for those apparitions. Or maybe it was only me being too suspicious for no reason. Indeed, at first, it was only feeling, a bad one…

But suddenly it became more, so much more. Now, I saw - no, I felt - a presence always behind me, close to me. I could catch sight of this thing that was always following me, my eyes seeing glimpse of his silhouette. I was starting to be afraid of turning around and see it there right before me. Never would I have believed that it could have got worse, I thought things would improve, it couldn’t be any worse that how it was now. Except that it didn’t. I couldn’t explain exactly how or when, but the presence kept getting closer and closer. I just shouldn’t let it go by, and I learned that the hard way, the day I heard him breathing, from somewhere inside my own bedroom. He was there. In my own house. Stalking me.

I stayed awake until dawn that night, paralysed with fear … I don’t believe I have slept since …That doesn’t matter right now !

My main point is that I am being followed. Spied on. They are here, somewhere, even while I’m talking to you right now.

Even when I walk in the main hall, with their steps echoing with mine.

Even when I hold my breath, will I am lying stiffly in my bed, I can hear them just before they held their own breath, a moment too late.

Sometimes … Sometimes I swear they are whispering things, cold and dead things.

So, please, I am begging you, help me. I am tired, exhausted. I haven’t had a real night of sleep in days, weeks. I live off coffee and caffeine. And I am so terrified. Not just creeped out… It’s a chilling fear that fills my body.

But you, who is always there, present in every corner of this damn apartment. You, you must have seen them. Even if it’s only once. Just tell me where they are ! Who they are !

Oh I’m begging you, you are me, I am you… So why wouldn’t you help me. To save me ? To save us !”

Tim then fell silent and raised his head toward his reflect. He gave him a sad little smile and the other offered him a crazed one. To think he was alone with this fool.

A cold anger had begun to pervade him, will the other face took on an awful look, deformed by hatred. It made Tim gone berserk.

“ And you dare mock me ! Mock everything that happened to me ? They are going to kill me ! Or worst … Abduct me ! And you think it’s funny ? That is fucking unbelievable ! I surely hope from the bottom of my heart they will butcher you too, maybe that will be enough to erase that stupid smile off your face !”

The other was mimicking him, each one of his ticks, like a grotesque mockery of himself.

And even if Tim heard the door opening, it didn’t stopped his fist to crash against the other face, sending blood everywhere in the process. Cracking the mirror so violently that the glass shattered, sending tiny little pieces everywhere, glasses sinking into Tim’s flesh.

He was done. Already dead. His only hope, himself from the other side, wasn’t there anymore, didn’t wanted to help him.

Tim let himself fall on his knee, surrounded by glass debris, and began to cry. To sob, hysterically, hiccuping and eyes dilated. Smile distorted on his face. However, he still had enough clarity to have heard Stephanie coming in, exclaiming softly, her voice so warm, so reassuring, this was all her. Even her footsteps were soft and calming, as well as her scent or warmth of her skin.

He let himself go against her, eyes stubbornly closed,crying harder, sinking into her arms, her embrace into her, her, and just her. Tim was now crying because he knew. He knew she wasn’t - and couldn’t - be here. He murmured it again and again, she wasn’t here but Oh how he wished for it.

And when he opened his eyes again, Stephanie was, indeed, not within sight. He was alone and he was hallucinating. Tim was just so tired. He rubbed his eyes,trying to rid them of the burning and got up. He could just go to bed. He could finish taking care of his wound and just go to sleep, to take a well deserved rest. Or he could just finish the bandage, make himself a coffee and finish his paperworks. Yeah, that sounded about right. And when he said it out loud, tasting each word like adrénaline, giving them more strength, more tangibility in his weaken mind … He thought he heard a laugh, someone chuckling quietly.

But, well, at this point, was it even important ?

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

“I feel like I am losing it… Or I might already had lost my mind. I … I saw Bruce. I saw him yesterday, in a coffee shop. I walked right by him and I just… Runaway !

You know as well as I do that he died, he died too. I am just so exhausted, I can’t do this anymore. I keep seeing each one of them one by one. All those I lost, my brain keeps making them reappear… Or maybe it’s the caffeine that’s making them seems so real.

I really want to sleep now. I don’t think I can’t keep doing this. Or it might be my body craving another dose of coffee … What do you think ?”

The lightbulb sizzled a little, then shut down. Tim sighed, basking in the dark, water clapping softly with the rhythm of his breath. Actually, Tim was quite relaxed right now, even with the lack of sleep. So relaxed he might even let himself sink into Morpheus arms. Might.

The water from the bath was steaming, the bathroom clammy. Tim felt his head nod, sinking softly little bit by little bit in the water, which kept lapping slower and slower as his breath calmed. His mind got fuzzy, forgetting Bruce his deceased father. Or Stephanie, his rotting best friend. Forgetting about the one from the other side, about this foreign breath getting closer.

Then, the clapping intensified, the water rising suddenly, submerging Tim’s face. Tim’s who was panicking, feeling a hand settle on his upper thigh while someone breathed against him.

He then tried to straighten, in full panic, spitting water swallowed by error. Tim slipped, water submerging him once again but still found a way to get out, yelling as loud he could, crying, terrorised. He threw himself right to the door, almost ripping of the knob, ejecting himself in the corridor, feeling a hand brushing against his neck.

Naked, Tim ran past the living room, directly in the kitchen, slipping on the wet floor. He ended by collapsing in there, clutching a knife against his body, breath loud…

And after five minutes of dead calm silence, Tim found the courage to light up the place.

No one. There was nobody. Not even in the bathroom or in any other rooms. He saw nobody.

He was trembling, fear and adrenaline still pumping through his body.

Tim cried all that night, sleep seemed impossible. So he just cried until the sun rose, incapable of putting the knife down or to do anything else than to trace over and over the finger shaped bruise on his tight.

The mark was just confirming his theory, giving a sense of reality to this invisible threat and revealing a new problem : the stalker was done just following. Now they wanted contact and proximity. And so they had ambushed him in the bath.

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

“I am a mess. A living trash. I see things, peoples, events that aren’t real. Yesterday, someone chased me in the street. For something that felt like half and hour. I wouldn’t even had thought I was able to run for so long, not in my state.

And you would never guess who was behind me … Damian. Yes, my deceased brother. Who died with my father. I can’t even empase how terrible it must have felt. And …

I don’t even know why I’m laughing, why it seems so funny to me ! It’s actually kind of depressing, that everyone I had loved had died. That I am so unlucky. It almost sounds like a tragedy.

But, well, at least, you still here, by my side. Maybe it was meant to end with just us two. Maybe you will be enough to replace all my loved one.

I love you so.”

Tim was whispering his thoughts kindly to his coffee pot, while it prepared him the umpteenth cup of coffee got this morning. He was nursing against him an empty mug.

This morning, while busying himself, he had fallen on a nest of the other. It was mainly built of blankets, foods wraps … And thousands and thousands of pictures of him.

And creepier, the blankets were still warm. The other had just left his nest. But Tim was well aware it implied other’s existence and his apartment was big and messy, so many potential place to hide yourself and never be found in this bazaar.

So, yeah, they had made nest everywhere, on Tim’s own space. And this thought made him wring his hands, twisting them painfully with worry marked all over his face, terror and stress in his eyes.

He poured himself another cup of coffee.

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

“ I heard howls all night long. I am sure they hooted until dawn. I could almost swear I even heard their wings flapping inside my own bedroom. But I am a rational man. I know it’s impossible. I mean … No howl could get inside my house - that wouldn’t made sense . And never, never they could survive in a big city like here. Oh Gods how I can be so exhausted. I truly wanted to sleep yesterday, I swear ! But it was just like if the other wanted me awake. At least, it’s what seem the more logical to me… That they want to stop me of resting so I get even more careless and repeat my mistake error back in the bathroom. They want me to let my guard down once again so they could get closer.

But it won’t happen, I am too well organised for it. I have a very strict program to give me some release. First, I go to the office where I gave myself a short nap of 20 minutes. And another one before lunch and after. Last one is just before I get back here.

But, no need to be worried, I only allow it because I know fairly well they couldn’t dare to do something there, with so many witnesses around. I took those measures after my fourth sleepless night in a row, knowing I can’t skip sleep forever.

On the other hand, I believe the other is getting reckless, and isn’t as careful anymore. For example, my secretary found one of their hiding spots behind a couch, in a recess of the wall. She notified it to me immediately, worried at the idea of someone living there, under our noses. And I believe I never got so relieved : unwittingly, she just confirmed that this whole situation was real, not my mind playing tricks on me. Confirmed because I obviously doubted myself on this, like if all of it was just a simple delirium from my sick mind. Except that visibly, the other is real, there is truly someone who has been observing me all this time.”

Tim’s lips pulled into a tiny smile, facing the window, a book on his laps. The lights of the city against the night sky calming him, proof of life following his course, even while his own was falling apart. Just like it did when all his friends died in a car accident, Tim losing his childhood friends, his best friends and boyfriend all at once, feeling like his life stopped with them. But it didn’t and kept his own flow, rhythm, still running by, along with time. Just like it did when another car accident took, this time, his family , brother,sister and father, leaving Tim with no reason to live. But he did, because life doesn’t stop for someone’s end. And Tim’s life still kept running without his consent or concern, even with all this pain and sorrow. He shut his eyes tightly, savoring both the burning tears and the dim light.

He thought he heard a movement, like the flapping of wings, a flow of air coming across his face. He opened his eyes abruptly and, in the same moment, with a swift movement, swung at the bird’s head with his book.

The beast emitted a distressed sound, and flopped a little down, his flight shaky. It disappeared in the corridor, and Tim heard a dull sound, notifying him of his fall. He then rushed there, in the darkness of the corridor, despite his head feeling light and nausea filled him after this too quick movement. He lit up the hall and discovered the bird. The poor beast had broken his skull on a door, misoriented by Tim’s strick.

The man grabbed it by his hook and studied it for a long time, oscillating between terror and dismay … Tim had just killed an owl.

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

“ Someone slept in my bed this night. I know it because when I was changing, I noticed my sheet were undone… Also, I could still see the shape of their body they left. And it was still warm.

I know it might sound dumb, but I think… I believe they might have been… I don’t know, less active ? I’m not sure but I feel like recently their presence seemed less and less strong, as if they weren’t there anymore.

At least, the night, I don’t hear them anymore. I don’t see them. I just don’t feel them. Of course, during the day, the situation is worse. They follow me everywhere, it’s usual, but now they are harassing me, calling me at my office, or even sometimes on my phones, both work and personal. Most of the time, they doesn’t talk, just stay on line, breathing heavily. Except on a few occasions were they talked, whispering me all the things they wanted to do to me, horrors and nightmares, explaining the reason of their obsessions. How much they desire to touch me, to smell me, taste me.

Sometimes, I’m the one doing the talking. I beg, I yell and scream, throwing tantrum, or I cry, always asking for the same thing : to stop, whatever this is. I even cursed them once.

And, two days ago, I stopped mid-sentences, having lost my train of thought. A silence had planned on the line, for a few long seconds … Before they whispered “ talk to me”. I hang up. I hang up terrified, sure of having done another fatal error. Never had we tried to discuss together and I was fine with this “way”. It was one listening and the other talking. It was an unspoken rule and they broke it. Since, I make sure to have my secretary answer the phone first.

While I am at this, she seems more and more worried. She won’t stop telling me how I should take better care of myself, especially with my past. The worst is that I don’t even have any idea of what ‘past’ she is referring to… I mean, sure, I had some rough times, lost many, many beloved people… But how is that related to taking care of myself ?

Anyways, back again about the other, they seems less and less worried of being caught. For example, only this weeks, they came to my office three times. Three times of them announcing themselves as my brother. Them waiting for me in the entrance. Three times of me yelling at my secretary I wouldn’t get out of my office. That my poor brother was dead ! Dead. Dead … And each time I had a mental breakdown right after it. I can’t continue like this anymore. I am too tired, too exhausted, so done.”

Tim kept cutting in rhythm his vegetables, eyes hypnotised by the blade. He was so lost, in his thoughts, in his life, in this life. The bags under his eyes were a darkish shade of purple, like bruises, proof of too many sleepless nights. Tics were movings his eyelids, as well as his mouth, in random moments.

Tim had always been pale, but at this point, it would have been more correct to say his skin was transparent. Only his eyes stayed the same than before this downfall. They stayed clear, with no redness or blood injected troubling the pure white surrounding a soft sky blue iris and then darkness in there center.

He finally was done with his vegetables, throwing them in a pan and got back to sitting on the bar, observing his apartment. Most of it was surrounded by the darkness but he was okay with that. There wasn’t a sound. Not even one, as if the other was gone. But Tim knew better : they were somewhere near, scrutinizing him and every movement he dared do.

His head wouldn’t stop nodding up and down, he was scared and exhausted. Exhausted of living with this terror and stress. Terrified of letting himself relax. Exhausted of having the pictures of his deceased friends always imposed into his memory.

Tim didn’t want to think of them. It was easier to act as if nothing happened. And truly, in some of his memory it was just like it. After all, he didn’t remember the funeral for any of them, as if just never happend or Tim just wasn’t there. Same for his family.

Tim sighed once more and stretched toward the coffee pot. He wasn’t ready to sleep.

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

“ I am scared you know. I mean, I don’t know what to do, how to get out of this situation.

Every body, well, the few people that I see regularly, kept saying how I look so sick, so broken, and I should be more careful because of my accident. I’m not even sure to know what ‘accident’ they are referring too. Also, my secretary kept complaining I drink too much coffee for my own good and how angry would be my doctor, who doesn’t like me taking stimulants, because it stress my organs too much. And there too I don’t get the reference, like if it was some inside joke they all share… Whatever.

All that I know is that she seems more and more weirder these days, suspicious. Like she was stressed, anxious , like if she had some kind of secret concerning me. Or maybe like she had remorse… But I don’t see what she could hide from me.

Except if she was … pairing up with the other? That would be as surprising than horrifying. But I don’t think it’s the case. She just must be worried about her own life, or maybe about me. She is just such a nice girl, she can’t be that bad.

Anyways, I’m happy that I talked to you… You’re always here, such a good listener, I love you so much Cassandra.”

Tim fell silent and listened. Listened to the waiting tone dialling over and over, in the void. The only sound was his breath reverberating through the phone, coming back distorted to his ears. His sister didn’t pick up.

It wasn’t so surprising, he already knew it. After all, she simply couldn’t, being dead for almost 4 years already. Nevermore will she answer and talk with him, calming him, recomforting him… No, nevermore.

Tim put his head in his arms, face turned toward the bay window. It was late, but the young man hadn’t found enough courage to come home. He might just stay right here until the next morning. The light of the city downward were the only source of luminosity, so small with Tim was so high up here. He liked this idea, that he wasn’t with them, detached of this world he didn’t wanted to belong to. All this activity will he was up there slowly falling asleep, the light lulling him.

He needed to be detached, away from anyone. He already lost everything, so it could be so easy to die now. That’s why he wanted nobody around him, not wanting anymore string to this world, to get hurt or hurt. And only when he will be fully alone, only then, Tim wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

The dim light kept him in this state, half asleep, and then, slightly out, fully asleep. The exhaustion and lack of sleep had reason of him.

And, while Tim’s eyes moved erratically under his eyelid, only then, he dared to enter his office. He took cautious step toward the sleeping man and kneeled next to the desk. His gaze fixed on Tim’s inky hair hiding his face away. The man took off the coffee mug sitting next to Tim, throwing it away in the toilet, cleaning it roughly. Then he got back to his previous spot, kneeling next to his protégé.

He stayed right here, crouched against the desk, caressing Tim’s hair softly, lovingly. The younger man seemed to relax against the touch, falling deeper into sleep. They stayed in this positions for hours, until the first light of dawn appeared. It seemed to motivate him to get up, going to the bathroom to put fresh water in the mug. He then placed it next to a deeply asleep Tim. The young man had finally got his deserved full night of sleep, but his worried and exhausted expression was still present on his features.

The stranger, the intruder, sighed softly and bent down, kissing kindly Tim’s forehead. And,with his hand still on the younger’s one, he scribbled a little note for him. He then kissed him a last time. And left.

He rushed through the stairs to go meet her, waiting at the escape for her. She arrived late, but she always did. They only briefly spoke, him hurrying her, but still thanking her warmly. He had needed to see Tim. Needed. She proposed that they go for a breakfast, or maybe to meet again for lunch. He declined, but told her how thankful he was. After all, she let him get into the building and covered him. He left quickly, and she got upstairs.

It was her job to be here early, her boss was always one of the first one in the office. She snuck a glance into his office, saw that he was still fully asleep and got back to her desk. Two hours later, she heard a scream, an ugly one, full of panic and fear. It was coming from her boss office, proof he finally awoke. It was quickly followed by the sound of glass shattering, a mug crashing down, swatted to the ground. She sighed. Tim was awake.

He indeed was up, acting as if the devil was on his heels, tripping on his own feet. He looked terrified, a little bit crazy and so pitiful, with his big blue eyes full of suppressed tears. It saddened her, knowing she was a little guilty of his state.

Tim left sobbing, without a word, shaking.

His secretary looked at him go, worried of feeling no guilt. Ô the things she was able to do for handsome face…

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

“ You were there. You took advantage of my state, of my weakness. Of me falling asleep. You took advantage of it to come once again torment me, haunt me. To touch me… To violate my space, my life.

I don’t know what you want of me, from me. But I do know you are a monster, a psychopath. A maniac ! You follow me, watch me. You ruin my life. I just want to end it, end everything, end it all. I need to find a way to stop all of it, no matter the consequences.

And what about this note ! Why would you even left me one ? “ Even if you don’t want to see me, I will always be by your side”. Bullshit ! What does you even wanted by that ?

It’s terrible. I feel like I am losing myself, reality beginning to mix with nightmares and visions. I’m going crazy. I’m drowning, I can’t breath, live… I’m drowning in fear, panic, lack of sleep, irrationality.

It’s been fifteen days that I hadn’t been back to my office. Not since you … That you… Since…

Fuck ! STOP IT ! RIGHT NOW ! I can’t , I can’t do it anymore. I wanna die ! I’m done with all of this, the people, the worlds, them, you … with myself too. I just cry all day … And that’s it. I do nothing, I can’t anymore. I’m stuck here, and sick of it. I don’t even dare to get out, I’m so scared to see you. To see the dead. To see all of these who will disappear, and those who already had. I’m so sick of not being able to distinguish between lie and reality. I can’t go out anymore.

I’m stuck. I’m stuck in this place and in my head. I’m stuck. With me. With me and you. You.. I… You must leave. You have to stop. I can’t keep doing this for much longer. I have already lost my mind and sanity. Aren’t you satisfied ? When will you stop tormenting me ! To force me to remember. Ignorance is such bliss….”

Tim ended whispering, adrenaline and anger disappearing until all that was left was his loneliness, abandoned.

He blinked quickly, trying to stop the tears from flowing, even if they already were sliding down his cheeks. And Tim was left alone to weep. Soundlessly. In the dark. Laying on his back, in his bed. Arms hugging himself. He cried.

On his arms, spot color of the sky range. The young man didn’t even remember hurting himself, but those bruises weren’t real for him. They didn’t mattered. He was lost, a lost cause, forsaken. Day and night were becoming one, an indistinct temporal mass. Sometimes he’d find himself in room without any memory of going there, or why. He caught himself multiple time doing round of the rooms, knocking against flat surface, looking under furniture … Searching for someone - or something - hidden away reflex as archaic than childish.

And everytime Tim caught himself doing this, he froze, aware of having close to no control of his own actions. And each time the hours had gone from 2 to 10, without him remembering, losing track of it, it worried him even more. One day, he even found himself covered in spiderwebs and dust, without knowing how or where he got himself this dirty.

He was unstable, incapable of reconstruct his days. But he still knew the howls were watching him with their fluorescents eyes. He knew he couldn’t go in the bathroom, fearing to catch the reflection of the other in the mirror, behind him. He knew he shouldn’t get to close of the bay glass, the dead waiting for him on the balcony.

So Tim cried even more, almost hoping the other would talk, or even breath, right against him. But there wasn’t any noises. No movement. No reaction. The other was gone.

Tim’s felt his throat tighten. Abandon. Once again. Poor Timmy, dumb little Timmy would be left alone. He curled on himself and waited, awake, for the morning to happen.

The other breath reappeared close to 6am.

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

“ I couldn’t find my way back. Well, not surprising, I didn’t come here that much, sorry. The gardener helped me, he even told me how to get to my family’s tomb next.

I don’t know why I am here. There isn’t really any valid reason for it, I just felt the need to… It never happened before.

I… Well.. You… Oh gods, I’m blushing now, all of this is absolutely ridiculous. I’m absolutely mortified of never coming to see you by my own will. Of trying to erase you from my life, to forget you for real. You are a whole part of my life. My childhood, my teenage year and the beginning of my adult life.

There is someone, something, who want me to remember you, or at least to think of the dead. For it, they keep me from sleeping, follow me and call for me in the street. Try to usurp the identity of someone they can’t be. Call me to talk about you. Force me to remember.

And the only positive aspect of this whole situation is me finally reconciling myself with my past, and with you all, guys.

I must go, I still have to see my family. I just wanted to say sorry and remember you - and myself - of how much I love you all.

Goodbye.”

Tim felt his voice shaking, tears running down his face, while he disposed flowers in front of the memorial, dedicated to all his friends. To his childhood friends. To his best friend. To his boyfriend. To the dead and the ghost of his childhood.

He stroked the plaque with their name and walked away. He had quite a hard time finding his family’s graves, but maybe he needed this time to prepare himself for it. Because it was going to be ugly and he knew it very well.

He indeed broke down in tears when he finally got in front of them, ugly sobbing for quite a long time, until it calmed a little. Tim never felt that pathetic, that pitiful, fragile. Then, word began to fall from his mouth, rain of apologies, remorse and regrets, flooding in an impetus flow. Tim didn’t bothered to stop it. And, when he was done, he felt a feeling of relief flood through his mind. He finally talked to the dead.

Tim began to lay a flower for each of them.

“To Bruce, beloved father and friend. He protected and loved the out cast”. A bouquet of lys.

“To Cassandra, beloved sister and daughter. She lived without regrets or remorse.”. A Camelia’s bouquet.

“To Tim. Son and bother. Other died so he lived”.

He froze. It was wrong. On the third tomb should had been Damian’s name. Not Tim’s. NOT HIS !

In full panic, he threw himself on his knees, finger deciphering the words. It indeed wasn’t his name. Neither it was Damian’s. It was someone else’s, a stranger stele.

Tim straightened and finally saw him. His dead father. He seemed younger. He seemed alive. He seemed surprised of seeing him. And while Bruce took a step toward him, hands stretching to grasp Tim, this one ran.

He didn’t slow down for the two hours ride it took to get back to his apartment, focused on the road. It’s only when his door locked behind him that he collapsed, hands clasped around his heads, screaming behind the closed door.

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

“ I shouldn’t have come back. It’s dumb, I didn’t even wanted to. But, well, turns out I am here. And likely you didn’t expected me. You thought I would disappear, or worse, be cast out. You thought I would just be abandoned … And that you would win, and that without me being even aware of us playing against each other.

But, sweetie, you are way too stupid to beat me. I always had been greatest at this kind of game, I’m not a quitter and I have stamina… You are so dumb you didn’t even noticed you were only a mere pawn… Brainless secretary.

Although, I hadn’t been this efficient either. After all, I was dumb enough to trust you and never doubt you… That was as stupid as your action. Anyway, it won’t change the fact they lost. They aren’t aware of it right now, but they have lost. No matter what they are to you. No matter what I might be for them. No matter what they think they are to me. I’m going to end this sick game. And I will make sure you will suffer the consequences. Or just suffer. I will make sure you won’t be able of closing your eyes without doubting of being able to open them once again. I wish, almost wish, you will die, so I won’t have to see your face ever again. But, Jessica, I won’t do it… After all, you are my secretary …

I will be the first suspect of your murder. But I still need you to suffer. To suffer as much I did those 4 last months. I want you to fall on this hellscape like I just did.

But don’t worry, I will catch this son of a bitch and make him regret his fucking fixation. I’m not an object, I’m not breakable. I’m not malleable. And I’m not fucking rational ! NOT ANYMORE !

So now, you will be a good girl and tell me who employed you. Who you helped to play me this ‘trick’. Tell me so I can end it for real with them. SO … WHO. IS. IT. WHO ?”

Jessica began to cry once again in front of Tim. She was unable to articulate two coherent words and it only pissed off the man more. He threw suddenly his coffee mug through the room, sending it to shatter on the opposite wall, missing Jessica. She curled on herself, yelling even more.

Tim massaged his head, feeling a headache coming. She should shut up soon or he will lose the poor self control he maintain. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. No, Tim won’t hit here. No, he won’t lose control. No, he didn’t tried to aim the mug at her. You must understand Jessica, the poor man is exhausted, so stressed. He just lost a little his calm but he is better now. He just needed to know who left the note signed by his brother. And after, he could rest. After he would be better, calmer, and will finally stop yelling at her. Maybe he wouldn’t even take her to the justice… He just needed a name Jessica, just a name.

But the secretary wouldn’t talk, keeping her mouth sealed, mute if excepted the sob. So Tim sighed. He couldn’t do it, he didn’t know what to do. Maybe he wasn’t awake enough to think straight… Maybe he needed a nap… Or a coffee, yeah, that sounded about right ! After he could handle in a better way this whole situation !

He stopped only when he registered Jessica giggles, horribly distorted and ugly in her rattle voice. She never had a pretty laugh, more a travesty of one, something sounding like a cackling. No, Jessica never had a nice laugh and this one wasn’t an exception. Tim realized she wasn’t even trying to hide the truth now, because she believed she had the upperhand in this. That she was smarter, than him, than them.

She explained everything, proudly, sure of having outsmarted both of them, tears turning into a smug grin. Yes, she helped them to find Tim. Yes, thanks to her, they got Tim’s address. Yes, she was also the one who helped them to sneak in the office. Yes, yes , yes she was the one who made it all. All of this… And who could blame her ? It wasn’t her fault, oh no no no. It was Tim’s fault. He caused this whole situation all by himself. After all, it was him who drank too much coffee for his own good… Or refused to go see a doctor … Who denied the simple existence of his accidents and their sequelae. It was Tim who had stopped to even try to sleep, live and eat !

And, indeed, she started to do all of this for him. She really wanted to help you, Timmy, you know ? To help you get out of this whole paranoia spiral thing, this psychosis he had. So she called them, revealing him where Tim’s place were.

And, at one point, quite quickly actually, it wasn’t about Tim anymore, but about herself. The other was gorgeous. They were desperate. They were heart broken,weakened by Tim’s rejection. So, yeah, at one point it wasn’t for Tim at all, she switched camps, she was there to help the other. They needed affection so badly, craved it, and Jessica was the solution. Her objective had become to have him for herself, maybe even get rid of Tim, never mind of him. She wanted them in her bed, in her arms.

Today, she reached her goal, almost there. The other would give up soon. And for Tim, given his state, it was only a matter of time before he mess up, make an - another - error, which would either get him to a psychiatrist hospital, or to the tomb.

Jessica almost have her date, almost, she was so close to it. The other promised her a dinner for after he got a chance to talk to Tim. Both of them were so close to their goal.

And that, Tim just realized it. She had almost reached it, at least it’s what the other made her believe. They had baited her with a promise of a pseudo relationship, in exchange for him. His stupid secretary had sold him for a one night hook up. Apparently he wasn’t worth much more.

To be fair, she was just plainly lying to herself, at what point sending a stalker after Tim was for his so called “ well being” ? Did she truly believe they would heal him of his paranoia by spying on him !

She was crazy. Jessica had lost her goddamn mind… She had sent him a stalker … A STALKER ! And she HELPED them !

So Tim did what he did best : he panicked. Once again. She betrayed him, she knew everything about him and she sold him… And what would have happened if Tim hadn’t confrontate her ? Jessica would have let the other go to the end of his fantasy, even if it mean mean Tim’s death ?

Then, Jessica made another error. One of too many. She announced point blank to Tim how she invited the other to catch up with them here. In Tim’s own office, with the whole building being empty… But she reassured him, no need to worry, they just wanted to talk, and once it will be done, she will finally have her date with them. And no, Tim hadn’t a word to say about them coming here, it was already engaged, too late to back up. He was just so lucky to have such a handsome brother.

It finally clicked on Tim’s overwhelmed mind. Of course ! She had believed them ! She fell into their trap like the idiot she has always had been… Jessica believed they were related to Tim, but it couldn’t be possible in anyways. Because Damian and Cass, his only siblings were dead.

He got up quickly, realizing they were going to show up soon. Tim needed to get out of here or he’d be a dead man when they arrived. Jessica reacted quickly, displeasure at Tim’s attempts to ruin her chances of that date clear on her face. Given Tim’s manic and sleep deprived state, it wasn’t hard, catching him by the collar and pulling him back before he could make it to the door.

It might be because she was way taller than Tim, or because the young man was in such a bad state that Jessica believed she could overpower him. She just ignored how much caffeine was currently pumping through Tim’s vein, how much adrenalin fear could release in a body, how much strength this broken Tim had.

Jessica just had time to pull on his arms that he punched her in the stomach, before knocking her down. His head was full of noise, of fear, he didn’t have time for this, he didn’t have enough time, he couldn’t … He hasn’t… She shouldn’t … She grabbed his legs; pulling hard and he lost it again. He lost his train of thought. He lost control. Tim tried to free his legs, he had to go and when he saw it wasn’t working, he just grabbed a chair next to him and began to hit her repeatedly. He hit her, over and over, until she curled on herself, letting go of his pants.

Jessica was fine, she was fine, it was mostly bruises, maybe a broken ribs, Tim repeated himself while he hurtled down the stairs. After all she deserved it, she was going to be fine, just fine, he didn’t have enough strength to hurt her too badly. He kept saying it over and over, while sprinting through the darks alleys, alone, odd mirage in the night. He kept himself to think how close he had been to be caught by them until he locked the door behind him.

Less than five minutes after his escape, a silhouette would lean over Jessica, before calling 911.

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

“ I know you don’t wish to see me or hear from me. But I need to tell you something. You don’t have to answer, or even to believe me… Please, just listen for once. And I want you to know I respected your privacy until now, I never came here because I never thought you needed help that much. But right now you didn’t leave me any choice. I hoped, truly, you would get better without me having to step in the picture, but turns out I had been wrong, the events of this afternoon talk for themselves I think.

This time, I’m not here to tell you how much I miss you, neither of how much I need you in my life, by my side. No, I’m here to help you get a grip on yourself. You can’t keep acting like you do, you are putting yourself in danger. You make yourself sick.

No, please, I hear you moving, don’t go… I’m begging you, just listen to me until the end. And when I’ll be done, you can call the cops on me if you want…

Let’s just go back to the beginning… Six years ago, you and all your friends, your childhood friends, planned a trip to celebrate the end of your classes. And, at the last moment, you call in sick and stayed home, confined to bed.

The bus they had rented might have been a problem, or maybe something else happened … But what we knew, is that they had an accident. And nobody survived. This day, you lost your boyfriend, your best friend, and all your other friends, all at once. It pushed you into depression, which lasted over more than a year…

And two years after, you were doing better, so much better. We thought you had finally accepted it…

Then, Bruce and Cassandra - your dad and sister - had decided to go to the Opera. You had gone all three of you, your whole family minus Damian, your brother. You had an accident, another accident in your life. It was such a stupid one, a drunk driver who collided with your car. The driver died under the shock of the impact, so did Cassandra. Bruce was declared deceased during the hospital ride. You, fell into a deep coma.

Your family got buried when you were still unconscious, you stayed in this state for at least three months.

And, when you finally woke up, you were alone. All alone. They were dead. Your friends. Your family. Dead… Only you were left… And your brother Damian.

So, you can guess what had been my surprise when Jessica contacted me, making me discover an … Interesting fact. Damian was dead. Well, it’s what you had said to everyone you knew. It’s what you convince yourself of. That Damian had a car accident, with your family, and that he died in his coma.

It’s false. And I believe you aren’t even aware of being wrong. Damian is alive. Your brother is alive.

And, even if unconsciously, you prefer to believe he died, so you could detach yourself definitively of everything you loved, I know it wasn’t deliberate.

I can accept you not wanting to believe I am Damian. After all, I had already accepted to stop contacting you like you begged me last time. But, your current health worried me too much to kept myself from staying away from you. So please, I’m begging you, Tim, open up…”

The other voice was hesitant, pleading. Tim was still curled in a nook of the wall. In a cache. His cache.

On the floor, surrounding him, lied dozen of papers. Birth certificate. Death certificate. Press articles. Hospitals bills. And, in the center, nothing, if it is the lack of one death certificate. Damian’s one.

Tim had indeed come to this conclusion. Damian was alive. Damian hadn’t abandon him. So why ? Why was he dead in his mind ?

And, if the other, this person who had been in his office, who tried to contact him… Was really Damian ? Then, did that mean, that this “other” was never in his apartment ? That all along, it had been … him ? Tim ...

It would explain why Tim found himself so many times in the hidden places, without knowing how he found them. Would it be why he never could prove he wasn’t alone… Why he lost the course of the time … Could he be the other ?

Tim curled even more on himself, and sobbed. The other on the other side of the door began to pound on it, imploring Tim to open it, to let them console him.

Tim was slowly being aware of losing touch. But he didn’t wanted to, no, he couldn’t lose control once again and being what he feared for so many months. He had to pull himself together. Right now. He began to bang his head against the wall, the pain keeping him aware.

He got up, slowly and began to walk to the kitchen, shaking like a leaf. He had two choices … To pour himself another cup of coffee… Or to go open to the man who identified as his brother. The one who begged him to open.

And … Suddenly. Black.

Tim regain consciousness of the reality shortly after. The pain was trashing up his brain. He still registered the bloody knife and his forearms open and dripping of scarlet.

Tim yelled, screamed, in full panic mode and run straight to the door. His hands were slippery, but he still succeed to open the door. He then came to a stop, astonished by the vision, right in front of him. His surprise was mirrored by a younger Bruce, with a desperate look in his eyes.

The man then took him in his arms, pulling him close. Tim tried to breath, to stay awake and recognised the smell of the man : Damian. Damian.

“ Oh please, please, Dami… Don’t left me alone. I don’t wanna die ! I don’t want it anymore !”

And, with Tim weeping in his arms, Damian called 911, for the second time in a few hours. He then kept his brother right against him, whispering sweet words and praise. About how much he loved him. About how much he missed him. How he would never again left him alone.

Damian was crying too. His brother was sick. His brother had cut his veins open. His brother was dying once again.

Tim lost consciousness little time before the ambulance arrived.

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

While Tim lying unconscious in Damian’s arms, who kept talking to his brother, the dark figure changed of hiding spot, trying to get a little closer to Tim and his brother.

They heard Damian trying to explain to his brother about Jessica and how she would be alright, with no long term complication and with no complaints. That he made sure she wouldn’t approach them anymore. After all, she was crazier than Tim was.

And the third man keep waiting, in the shadow, boiling rage pooling in his stomach. He should be the one touching Tim, he was his protégé… HIS Tim. But he waited, he was patient enough for it. He knew that one way or another, Tim would be his… Soon enough.

So he watched silently Tim go with the paramedics, and with a terrified Damian. And when everybody was gone, when he was sure of it, he got out of his hiding spot.

He stretched, slowly, cat like and find his way to the kitchen. He casually grabbed the knife, and cleaned it, as well as every blood spot.

Tim had almost caught him, the young man knew he was there. He was aware of Tim being intelligent, but had underestimated him. He sighed of satisfaction : he was truly captivating. Even if Ra's has been stalking him for quite a long time, he never got tired of it.

How could he got bored of watching the man sink into worse and worse desilusion. His pretty Tim had first developed an addiction to coffee, then a sudden partial amnesia, quite selective actually, and a compulsive need to stay awake. And the big final one : a second personality !

Ra's guessed it was the lack of sleep who created this split : after all, everytime Tim loose control, letting another facet out, he persisted to take pillows and blankets to make nest, like if his only goals was to get ready for sleep.

Ra's smiled, deep in his thoughts, smelling Tim’s clothes, smelling him. Yes, Ra's was quite pleased of the turning of the events. Tim’s other facet would cover him. Nobody would believe someone, a stranger, had lived hidden in the apartment …

At worst, they would believe Damian’s presence had triggered Tim to believe so. If only Damian hasn’t came here, had let Tim sink just a little bit more, Ra's would finally had the boy for himself. To take him away with him, somewhere nobody could find Tim.

Sadly, he would have to wait. Damian was the brother, he had more right to have Tim. Ra's was just a stalker, a nobody.

They were two to lust after Tim … And Damian had currently won him… But it’s alright, Ra’s is patient.

“ I knew I would find you here Ra's. We need to talk.”

Damian deep voice rumbled in his back. Ra's sighed.

56 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 5 years

Note

This is random but based on your last meta about NTT 55 and the abuse. I wonder if that punch Bruce gives Dick is the beginning of the Batman writers upping his violence onto the kids (Dick, Jason, Tim) and just never addressing it. So like beside sparing and moments of being drug/hallucinating has Bruce shown so much physical violence and anger to them before that issue/moment. Is that the beginning of Batman writers thinking an angry/aggressive/violent Bruce/Batman is popular and creates fans.

Technically speaking, I know it wasn’t the first time but to my knowledge all the prior instances were treated as like….y’know, either a product of being written fifty years ago and nobody thinking twice about Bruce smacking his ‘ward’ or else due to various mind control scenarios, etc.

To be honest, my knowledge of early Batman and Robin stuff is more sporadic….I got into comics when I was ten, around ‘94, and Dick was one of my instant favorites who I latched onto immediately and had to know everything about….but my introduction to him was as Nightwing, and in his new solo series and the Titans books so everything else I kinda caught up on just to have more stories with him. And since it was him as Nightwing that I was drawn to specifically, there’s a lot of early stuff when he was still Robin that I never really dove into in depth.

I mean, new content that was being produced at the time and just was a flashback look at him as Robin, I ate all of that up (lol nostalgia does have a lot to do with my fondness for R:YO and Annual that did my preferred retelling of his origin). But yeah, its not accurate to say he didn’t interest me as Robin, per se, more just that like….there’s only so far back I could go before the earlier written stories just weren’t quite what I was looking for.

So for specifics on any earlier instances, I would look to @northoftheroad or @internal-ethics for that, as their knowledge of Dick and Bruce’s pre-Crisis days far exceeds my own.

But no, to the best of my knowledge, there was nothing before that which came even close to being like it in tone or scope.

I think its more this was symptomatic of the writers shifting to a more grim and gritty Batman, rather than that developing in the aftermath of scenes like this one. Like I mean, I don’t think that scene created a turning point in how writers depicted Bruce’s dynamics, so much as it was the result of writers in the aftermath of that turning point having already been reached.

It was the zeitgeist, you know? Personally, I blame Frank Miller for a lot, as he spawned a ton of imitators who saw what a hit he produced with his take on Bruce and I think a lot of writers just hoped that a similar take would net them a similar reception. But to be fair, its not like it was just him, since the only reason he even was a huge hit in the first place is that his Batman resonated with what a lot of people were looking for at the time.

Like, Tim still living at home and then with his dad still being alive for a decade after he first appeared…it wasn’t an accidental divergence from the first two Robins being orphans that Bruce took in and made family….it was part of the point of Tim. There is a tendency IMO (and I’m guilty of it too) to get so focused on the in-universe dynamics and character choices that we forget at times that none of these characters do anything other than what the writers write with intent, and Tim’s origin was a product of that.

He wasn’t written as initially having more of a strict partnership or mentor/protégé relationship with Bruce as opposed to the familial structured ones Dick and Jason had, like…..I just mean….that wasn’t the result of Bruce keeping him at arm’s length at first because of his grief after Jason’s death. Its more the other way around. That character choice, for Bruce to keep him at arm’s length, and Tim having an origin that allowed for Bruce to do that as Tim didn’t live with him or need to be around him as often as Dick and Jason had….all of that was the product of DC and the writers wanting a less familial relationship between them, initially. Because it was all part and parcel of the whole “I don’t do family, I have allies and that’s it, I am grim and brooding and alone and I like it that way except also I don’t like anything, how’s that for a riddle, Nygma.” *waves hand at the previous* Y’know. That bullshit.

Like….a huge part of why Jason was so insular to the Batman franchise and had so few friends among the superhero community and made so few appearances in other titles like Titans….you can explain that any number of ways in-universe, but ultimately that goes back to the fact that DC didn’t want to ‘lose’ another Robin to another book the way Dick eventually migrated over to being more associated with the Titans in the 80s than with Batman. Again, its not like that wasn’t an editorial choice too….they’re the reason Dick was kept away from the Bat titles, its more like….

Here, let me lay it out like this. Basically, as far as I’ve ever understood and interpreted it, it goes like this:

Dick and his group of Titans become successful in their own right, making the Titans a new separate and successful franchise in and of itself, independent of their mentors….and being the face of the Titans, DC wants Dick more strongly associated with the Titans so they create in-story reasons for Dick to stop being Robin and to come up with a new identity that’s more associated with Dick Grayson: leader of the Titans than with Dick Grayson: ward and partner of the Batman.

And initially, there was no real conflict between Bruce and Dick about this, they were on good terms, Dick gave Robin to Jason himself….because Dick’s departure wasn’t the inevitable result of character conflicts or some narrative reason that he had to be limited just to the Titans instead of still being a steady presence in Batman’s book….rather, it was all just made to allow for DC to keep two of their franchises separate and distinct from each other, because they didn’t want to cross-pollinate and make the success of each franchise linked to or even dependent on the other one.

And Jason was just as much a product of these decisions. Jason didn’t have a lot of ties to other books because Bruce kept him so decisively by his side, nor did he and Dick not appear together a lot because they disliked each other or didn’t have a relationship….rather, all of that IMO was an end result of the DC editorial decision to have a Robin who was almost exclusively linked to Batman in readers’ minds, with no clear, visible ties to other books or franchises that would result in him being anything other than one half of the Dynamic Duo.

(And personally, I’ve always thought this is where they really screwed up with Jason and his stories. DC claimed to want to kill Jason off because readers didn’t like him, which isn’t quite as factual a claim as has been indicated at times….but regardless….DC failed to factor in that perhaps why Jason wasn’t as popular as Dick or found as compelling by readers at the time was that DC didn’t prioritize…..giving Jason his own distinct identity and presence aside from just being Bruce’s sidekick.

Its like, DC wanted to make another Robin because Dick was so well-received, but Dick’s popularity meant eventually there was reader demand for him beyond what Batman’s book could allow for while still be focused on Batman, ergo Dick was moved elsewhere and Batman got a new Robin……who DC accidentally sabotaged from day one by deciding they wanted a Robin whose purpose was to be part of Batman’s narrative….failing to recognize that a character without a clear narrative of his own….is never going to be as interesting or compelling as others who are allowed to exist independently of their mentor).

And THEN came the zeitgeist shift. The gradual, tonal shift of reader priorities and interests (or at least, as DC interpreted them), with DC shifting their own priorities around in order to better capitalize on what they felt would be most profitable in the newer social climate. As far as they seemed to think, what readers really wanted were brooding, violent anti-heroes who were solitary and needed no one….which doesn’t really fit either Bruce Wayne: Family Man, or Bruce Wayne: Has Strong Ties to Others Outside his Franchise which Makes Them Strong Allies.

Hence, the retcon of Dick being fired from Robin instead of moving onto another identity by his own choice…..so that Dick’s reasons for not being present in the Bat franchise would be more due to emotional estrangement, thus validating the image that Bruce was (mostly) on his own, and that was the way he preferred or thought he needed it.

And then when Crisis allowed for a ton of possibilities in changing character backstories and even natures, DC made huge changes to Jason’s character….making him the grim, gritty ‘darker’ sidekick that was a better tonal fit for the darker Dark Knight they wanted to promote, and simultaneously doubling down on Dick’s own estrangement by compounding Bruce’s errors with him, as he gave Robin to Jason without asking and gave Dick all the more reason to feel he didn’t have a place there and to stay away.

And herein lies the danger of allowing your audience (or your perception of your audience and their wants) dictate your story-telling, rather than just letting your writers tell their damn stories without you constantly trying to make it a paint by numbers scenario and get more bang for your buck.

Because only a year or so after making huge changes to Jason’s character and basically re-envisioning him from the ground up, DC still felt that Robin wasn’t as well liked or as popular with readers as they wanted him to be….shockingly, I mean considering that if you think your readers only want dark heroes oozing over with violence and barely suppressed wrath, I don’t know how you convinced yourselves Robin was ever going to fit into that paradigm without re-envisioning Robin, rather than Jason himself.

Like, you can make the sidekick of your would-be dark, gloomy antihero as angry and violent as you want….but if at the end of the day, he’s still decked out in a costume that’s meant to be cheerful and fun, with no change from the iconic look that for decades now has been associated with a playful, mischievous counter-balance to the Dark Knight’s dourness….

Basically, no one’s going to go home happy is all I’m saying. DC was never going to get the success they wanted from that, because they shot themselves in the foot from the get go by wanting it both ways. The name and image recognition and built-in audience that comes from a reputation and public awareness that took literally decades to establish…..at the exact same time they wanted that very same character to be popular with the =readers they thought didn’t want the kind of content largely associated with Robin..

(IMO they could have actually gotten closer to what they wanted and killed two birds with one stone by like….building up Jason with his own distinct identity and narratives….which in turn could have led into Jason deciding Robin wasn’t the right fit for his own mission and reasons for being at Batman’s side, and thus building his own persona and mantle distinct to him just like Robin was distinct to Dick….but for the time being, still being Batman’s sidekick. If DC weren’t so insistent on it being Batman and Robin or nothing….they could have had Batman and someone else…whose new name and mantle could have been more along the lines of whatever they felt better conveyed the grittiness they wanted to sell via the Bat franchise.)

But anyway, so then Jason is killed off, with the in-story reasons really just being the cause and effect mapping of DC’s actual editorial direction to make Bruce fit the idea they’d built up in their own heads of what people really wanted Batman to be….

And yet bizarrely, they still didn’t wind up happy with the results. Apparently, Robin itself wasn’t the issue, just as Jason himself had never really been the issue. And once again, barely a year or two later….

They created Tim, but they still weren’t giving up on their obsession with this lonely, brooding Bruce who needed no one and coincidentally had no one…so they made sure to keep clear boundaries in place, initially. This is Bruce’s student, not his son, they were insistent. Just so everyone’s clear. See? He has his own dad. He even hires an actor to play his uncle when his dad is in a coma, just to keep CPS off his back because he knows Bruce would just take him in himself if that happened, and that’s not what Tim wants see, because Tim has his own dad, he doesn’t want Bruce to be his dad, ergo there is no danger of Bruce being paternal and affectionate and having *gulp* feelings. Of the positive variety.

And incidentally, well, not incidentally at all, since my whole point is all of this is always the result of clear, deliberate writing choices made to match editorial directives……regardless of the in-story explanations of Tim being so much more independent and operating solo so much more than his predecessors, like….because Bruce spent so much time brooding and being unapproachable and Tim needed more stimuli, what’s a bored superhero in-training to do, y’know….

Well, aside from all that, there’s also the factor that Tim was so much more independent than his predecessors had been while Robin because a) DC at least had learned from their mistake in not allowing Jason to have much of an identity of his own, b) the rapid expansion of both Marvel and DC in the early nineties, following what they called a speculators’ boom (basically both companies convinced themselves comics were about to be worth their weight in gold because a bunch of speculators had taken to buying up issues they thought would be worth a ton in the future, all pretty much due to the fact that some guy managed to sell a rare, first edition of X-Men #1 for a shit ton of money. Comic book companies are stupid. Have I expressed that enough in this one single post? LOL).

Anyway, so b) due to the rapid expansion of both the Big Two, DC was pumping out a ton more books than they had previously, which meant they had room for both a Nightwing solo book and a Robin solo book, so a huge part of the perception of Tim’s independence stems completely from the fact that he had a book to showcase these independent adventures in, without Batman or another team like the Titans being present (and still the priority).

(Which again, like. I’m always insisting that just because we didn’t see much of Dick and Jason bonding or hanging out on page before Jason died, didn’t mean it didn’t happen - just that there was no place to put scenes like this that didn’t involve either Batman or the other Titans, given that those were the only two titles they appeared in. Similarly, there’s no reason to assume Dick and Jason didn’t both go off on their own at times between issues and have adventures on their own or investigate stuff at their schools or any of the stuff Tim did in his solo title…..its literally just that before there was a solo Robin title to show Robin having solo adventures……the only place for these things to happen was…..off the page).

Bottom line, everything about Tim was constructed from the get go to be as unthreatening to the idea of a dark, repressed, brooding Batman as it was possible to get while still being Robin.

And yet…..even that didn’t last, weirdly. As over time, editors and writers desperately seeking the secret ingredient that would make this franchise really gel with readers the way they so desperately wanted it too…..over time, various someones stumbled into getting away with scenes where Alfred, Bruce, Dick and Tim still managed to be warm and familial with each other regardless of all that…

And shockingly, someone at some point figured out: Eureka! Readers love this!

So they doubled down, as they usually do, the second there’s profit in the air because yay capitalism…..

And thus its again, regardless of in-story justifications….

Not remotely a coincidence that Dick’s adoption, Cassandra’s creation and clear trajectory to being included in the Batfamily either officially or unofficially, Bruce’s initial offer of adoption to Tim even though Tim wouldn’t actually accept until years later, our time…..

Like, there’s a reason that all of these things happened in basically a five year period, real time…..even though prior to this, new additions to the Batfam, let alone official inductions, were more like a once every ten years kinda thing.

For a brief window, DC figured out the magic formula for writing a family is writing them as a family, and hark, ‘twas a blessed sight indeed.

And then someone was like, hey, y’know what’s missing? What if we bring Jason back?!

…….and then DC managed to pretty much wreck every progress they’d made towards having a brain, as they fucked that up in the most spectacular fashion possible by completely missing the point of why or in what ways readers most likely would want the missing and dead member of this family to show up alive and well.

*headdesk*

And over the years since then, the kids’ various official statuses have shifted left or right without rhyme or reason, following the whims of every new writer or editor to think: Eureka! I’ve done it! I’ve cracked the code! With frequent reversions to Bruce the Brooding Billionaire Bastard, loads of Not Good Parenting and downright abusive behavior, and a shit load of confusing contradictions.

Meanwhile, me, sitting here:

“Hey DC, maybe the problem is that you just can’t shove something like “adopted a gaggle of gremlins” into the bottle after uncorking that and letting readers see that its out there and a possibility…..so what if you just fucking committed to the one and only thing that’s managed to net you a positive reception every time you do this same dumb song and dance routine: actual family acting like actual family, actually.”

Anyway, how’s that for yet another

“How did Kalen’s Post Get From Point A to Side Tangent Z, Section 4f, Sub-Paragraph D13?”

#abuse cw

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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 6 years

Text

It‘s gonna be okay (Batsis OS)

Requested by @no-valid-usernames

Hi there, I absolutely love your work! Can you do a fic with a reader batsis comforting the batboys after fear toxin?

Thanks you really much. I hope you‘re okay with me writing an OneShot about it.

Warnings: Angst (somehow), Mention of Trauma

Summary: You (Batsis) have a bad feeling about a mission and when you get there you get confronted with your brothers‘ worst fears

—————————

You knew there was something wrong with the mission your father was sending your brothers too, but you couldn‘t get your hands directly on it, thinking it was just typical paranoia.

The whole time the others put on their suits and made their plans you pushed the thought away from you, but the second you said alone in front of the bat-computer you got overwhelmed by worries and couldn‘t hold yourself back anymore.

That‘s how you ended in front of the warehouse your brothers should be in. As your father‘s daughter, you knew better than to just rush in. You needed to find a safe way in...

You looked around, the feeling of worry getting worse with every second, and found an open window two floors above where you stood. Normally you would have used your hook to swing up to the window, but out of experience you knew that that could go heavily wrong. Thinking about another way up to the window you noticed a yellow-ish smoke flowing out of it and heard screams that you immediately noticed as your brothers.

All your precautions for not getting caught were thrown off and you ran as fast as you could to the main-door, getting your oxygen mask over your face in the progress.

When you finally managed to open the door, you were greeted with a sight that sent shivers through your spine.

Dick was sitting on the floor, his face tearstained, his eyes never leaving the ground in front of him.

Jason was squirming, punching the air and trying to fight something only there in his imagination.

Tim was laying on the floor unconscious with a shattered stool beside him and you suspected that he tried to stop scarecrow, getting put out in the process.

Damian was the one who maybe scared you the most, only standing there, starring at his hands, not moving a single muscle.

You looked around to see if there was anything you missed, but only your brothers were in this room, scarecrow long gone.

You sent an SoS to your father and your other siblings, hoping they would soon be there to help you. Until then you‘d need to try calm then down yourself.

A feeling of helplessness overwhelmed you, making you feel useless for not being able to help all your brothers at the same time, but you knew that feeling that wouldn‘t help them, so you pushed your emotions aside and made your way over to Jason, since he was the one most likely to hurt himself or others.

You approached him slowely, not wanting to be seen as part of his imagination, but as soon as you were in his radius he looked at you flaming with fury.

“It‘s okay, Jaybird. It‘s me, (Y/N). No matter what your seeing right now, it‘s not real. It‘s all just a nightmare,“ you tried to sound reassuring and hide the fear that made your voice quiver.

Like he hadn‘t heard you Jason‘s mumbles turned into screams: „I‘m not going back! You won‘t kill me again!“ and you realized that he must see the Joker, reliving the worst moment of his entire live.

You started reassuring him again, but he came charging at you and you realized that you must look like the Joker for him. At first you tried toblock his attacks, but after a while you realized that that wasn‘t helping. For a moment you thought about knocking him out, but you weren‘t entirely sure that you would be able to do so, so you did the only other thing you always did when Jason came to you after having a nightmare. You hugged him.

He squirmend in your arms punching your back, trying to rip you off of him, but you only hugged him tighter, humming a lullaby in hope of calming him down.

At first it seemed like it wasn‘t helping and your grip stated to weaken from his punches, but after a minute or so his body stared to shake and you could hear sobs leaving his mouth.

“It‘s okay....I‘m here. No one is going to hurt you,“ you mumbled again, this time getting heard.

“(Y/N)?“

“Yes. It‘s me,“ and with that his body got limp in your arms and you laid him down as careful as you could. He must have been exhausted by all this.

The gas cleared away and you too the mask off of your face.

You took a deep breath, ignoring the arching pain in your back that made you think that Jason had maybe broken one of your rips....or two. You shook your head telling yourself that your brothers were now more important than yourself and made your way over to Dick, who was way more easy to calm down than Jason.

It wasn‘t hard for you to see that he was back in the circus with his parents in front of him. At first you had no idea how to handle him, but than you remembered something your mother had always done when you were having panick attacks or similar situations.

You locked your legs around his body from behind and hold his upper chest with your arms, similar to a weightening blanket, taking deep and regulated breaths in hope of him adapting to it.

It took a while, but soon enough his hands found yours and he pressed them to show you that he was himself again. Carefully you broke away from him and gave him the opportunity to turn around.

His eyes and cheeks were red, but he weakly smiled at you.

“Thanks...I...The gas came out of nowhere,“ he said and brushed his hand through his hair.

“It‘s fine,“ you said and stood up again “I think scarecrow took out Tim and after I calmed him down, Jason fell unconscious. I hope the others are on their way, but Damian is still hallucinating.“

“What about Scarecrow himself?“ asked Dick while he put on his Domino-mask again.

“Gone...“ you said slightly angry with yourself for letting him get away.

“I‘m going to look if we’re able to catch up with him. Do you think you can calm down Damian?“

You bit the inside of your cheek, but nodded anyways and only seconds later Dick was gone.

Damian still hasn‘t moved and when you got a closer look at him you saw that he was bailing his fists so hard that they drew blood through his gloves. It was astonishing how much control Damian was able to muster, but you knew that he must have lived through some of his darkest fears already. He was raised by the Demon after all.

That made the situation itself not easier.

“Dami? If you can hear me, I need you to know that all what you‘re seeing right now is an illusion. It‘s all just the result of Scarecrows fear gas. It‘s all false.“ You slowely walked closer and closer to him, hoping that you wouldn‘t have to relive what had happened with Jason, but to your surprise as soon as you were in reach for him, Damian pulled you into his embrace.

“You‘re alive...You‘re fine...“ he whispered and your eyes widened when you realized that he must have hallucinated about you getting hurt. You hugged him back as tight as you could and mumbled: “Yes. I‘m not going to leave you anytime soon, littlewing.“ Damian tightened his grip a little bit and you hissed at the pain, hoping he hadn‘t notice.

Fortunately before he could think about it the voice of your father boomed through the warehouse: “(Y/N), Damian, what happened. Are you alright?“

You managed to get yourself out of Damians grip and started to explain: “I had a bad feeling about the mission, so....I followed the boys. When I arrived they had all been infected by Scarecrows feargas, well, except for Tim who was unconscious, and I calmed them down. Dick is going after Scarecrow and Jason was so exhausted that he also fell unconscious.“

Your father nodded slowely and looked around: “Okay...you did good (Y/N).“

A spark of proudness filled your body at Bruce telling you this and a small smile made its way onto your face.

“Thanks.“

An Hour later all of you, including Dick who actually managed to find and defeat Scarecrow, were sitting in the cave. Jason and Tim both woke up after you arrived and Alfred was checking them and the other two boys for any injuries when Cass, Steph and Duke came in, still in their suits from their patrol.

“Oh my god. Is everything okay? Bruce told us what happened,“ asked Steph and came over to you.

“Yeah...We got the bad guy and nobody got hurt,“ answered Dick, instead of you.

“Well, that is an experience I hope I never have to lie throug,“ said Duke who came to your other side, towering over you at least a full head. “At least we can always count on (Y/N),“ he continued and jokingly ‘punched‘ you on the back, the pain you were hiding all this time came shooting into your body and you fell onto your knees trying, and failing, to hide your pain-filled-scream.

Immediatly you were surrounded by your family all looking at you worried. You stood up again, getting supported by Cass and said: “I‘m fine....it‘s nothing...just a broken rip or so..“

“What?“ exclaimed Jason and looked at you confused: “When did that happen...“

You bit onto your lips: “I...you...It‘s not your fault...you didn‘t know it was me...“

Jasons eyes were filled with regret and anger, anger at himself for doing that.

“It‘s fine. Really,“ you said and took Jason‘s hand.

“No. It‘s not. I hurt you. It doesn‘t matter if I did it voluntary or not,“ he said, but let you take his hand.

“It does for me,“ you said and smiled, “Now, before we continue this. Could someone please call a doctor? I think I‘m tasing blood.“

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

Name Changing (11)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU, X-MEN, DEADPOOL

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION - Sequel to Name Calling After merging with your bloodthirsty alternate personality things start getting a little dicey. You’ve got two decades worth of anger to sort through, a feral mutation to figure out how to live with, a biological father who you hate trying to teach you control and if your wedding planner suggests teal for the bridesmaids again you might just eat her liver.

Luckily you have Bucky Barnes by your side, helping you figure things out. What Bucky doesn’t know is that you have found an outlet for the uncontrollable rage, one that absolutely nobody can know about. If your friends and family knew that you were out slaughtering people in the dead of night while they slept, they might be a little annoyed. Wade Wilson is happy to keep your secret though, so long as you keep bribing him with Mexican food.

For as long as you could remember, all you had wanted was to be good. Now you’re seeing the temptation in the darkness.

Chapter Eleven - The Stags

While you were living it up in Vegas, the Stag Party was enjoying a sophisticated steak dinner at a private restaurant in Brooklyn.

It was a good thing Tony was paying, because between Thor, Steve, Bucky and Parker, at least two full cows had been eaten.

“Alright, attention please. All eyes on me.” Tony announced.

Loki, Thor, Steve, Bruce, Vision, Peter, Clint and Bucky obliged the eccentric billionaire.

“I just wanted to be the centre of attention for a moment because the next few days are going to be all about my child.” Tony joked.

“It is a privilege of any parent to be outshone by their offspring.” Thor said sagely.

“Speech!” Peter called.

“Groom, you wanna take this?” Tony asked.

Bucky looked around at the expectant faces and took a deep breath.

“Seventy years ago I would chase down any skirt in the hopes of finding ‘the one’. It never occurred to me that she was waiting for me at the other end of a long and difficult journey. There are things about the journey I would change if I could.” He said, glancing at Tony.

“But she once told me that all the pain she went through, she wouldn’t change because it might mean she didn’t end up on the path that led her to me. I would take away every bit of her pain if I could but I wouldn’t change mine and risk loosing her.” He finished.

“You truly do love her.” Loki said with no small amount of wonderment.

“More than anything.” Bucky agreed.

Loki fixed his expression into one of boredom.

“Well congratulations Brother Barnes, I’m sure you and your love shall be very happy.” Loki toasted.

“And may they be blessed with many strong healthy children!” Thor added.

Tony choked on his scotch and spat it out across the table.

“NO! Absolutely not! My baby is not having a baby!” He spluttered.

“I believe it is her choice as it is her womb, regardless of well wishes or her fathers instructions.” Loki sniped.

“I’m with Mr Loki.” Peter agreed.

“Well it’s not as if they don’t get enough practice in.” Clint sniggered.

“No they don’t!” Tony shrieked.

“Stark, what do you think they’re doing that they keep needing to replace the bedframe?” Clint asked.

“She’s jumping up and down on the bed, she’s whimsical like that.” Tony insisted.

“She’s jumping on something.” Steve interjected and after a moment of shock that it was the Captain who had said it, everyone except Tony and Bucky started laughing.

Bucky looked deeply uncomfortable and Tony looked like he was torn between being sick and leaping across the table to throttle Bucky.

“Barnes, a word?” Tony said, standing up and throwing his napkin down on the table.

Bucky wordlessly got up and followed Stark outside. Tony put his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky like he was searching the stars for the right words to say.

“It wouldn’t have mattered if it wasn’t you who killed them. Hydra would have found another way. It’s taken me a long time to fully come to terms with that. So I’m going to say this once, only once and know that I mean it. I forgive you.” Tony said.

Bucky didn’t know what to say and his eyes started to sting as the weight of Tony’s words settled over him.

“Stark... I can’t change what I did but you have to know that I am in control now and I swear, I will never hurt her.”

“I know. I’m not going to threaten you, I don’t need to. I know you love her.” Tony said.

There was a moment of silence between them before Tony clapped his hands together.

“Well, that’s over. Let’s never do this heart to heart thing ever again ok?”

“Agreed.”

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

“A strip club? Really?”Tony asked, amused.

“Don’t blame me for this one. It was Sam, he insisted.”Steve defended himself.

“So you’re the man who’s marrying our favourite little Kitten?” One of the dancers said, eyeing Bucky.

“Your favourite kitten? As in my daughter? You know my daughter.” Tony checked.

“Oh yeah, Deathwave’s a regular. She’s a great tipper.”

“She’s a what now?” Clint asked, beyond amused.

Bucky shrugged at Steve when his friend turned to him with a scandalised expression.

“Pal, I’m long past being shocked by my future wife’s behaviour.” He told the blonde.

Steve turned helplessly to Tony who also shrugged.

“She’s a Stark.”He said as if it explained everything.

“So Sam sent us to a stripclub that the bride frequents?” Clint laughed, holding his ribs as he realized how devious the Falcon had been.

“Uh, why is Parker here?” Steve asked.

“Strip Club’s are 18+ and he’s 18, he just can’t drink.” Tony answered, sounding very lawyer like.

“Gentlemen, let us begin the festivities in earnest.” Thor boomed, coming over with six large pitchers of beer.

“Brother, did you not think to get drinks for our friends?” Loki asked.

Thor had the grace to look sheepish and everyone was to amused to see Bucky clap Loki on the shoulder in pride for calling them his friends.

“You know, if I can find love after everything, you might just have a chance.” Bucky said with a smirk.

Loki rolled his eyes and pulled a flask from his pocket and passed it to Bucky.

“Do not make me regret befriending you Barnes.”

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

“Let me tell you something, if you told me I’d be getting drunk with Loki to celebrate my child marrying Barnes....” Tony slurred and seemed to forget he was supposed to finish the sentence as he trailed off and his jaw dropped.

Peter and Loki turned around to see what he was looking at and saw Steve Rogers, Captain America sat at a booth on the other side of the club, laughing uproariously, a woman tucked under each arm.

“I’ve had to much to drink. I’m hallucinating.” Tony whispered.

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

“Go Parker!” Clint yelled.

“Someone’s is filming this right?” Clint checked.

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

“Buck.” Steve yelled, throwing his arm around his friends shoulders.

“Stevie.” Buck greeted, laughing at Steve’s inebriated state.

“I’m proud of you Buck. You found her, your girl and you went for it. You didn’t wait, you just went for it. I’m so proud of you.” Steve said, heartfelt despite the drunkeness.

“I didn't have a choice Steve, I really didn't. I need her.” Bucky admitted, not entirely sober himself.

“She’s a good girl and you better treat her right Punk.” Steve warned.

“Are you threatening me?” Bucky huffed in amusement.

“What? No, I’m warning you pal. She’ll obliterate you of you hurt her. That girl has a temper.” Steve chuckled.

Bucky laughed uproariously at the sheer honesty in the statement.

“I think Peggy would have loved her.” Steve said a little sadly.

“They would have been friends. Terrifying for the two of us though.” Bucky agreed and the two chuckled in bittersweet amusement.

“Hey, can you turn that up please?” Steve asked, pointing at the TV screen.

They all gradually turned to look at the screen.

“I’m live here in Las Vegas where The Avenger, Deathwave was celebrating her Hen Party until a few short moments ago when she entered into a deadly battle with Deadpool.” The reporter said and the camera focused on two figures on a rooftop behind her.

Bucky grasped the edge of the bar tightly as he watched Deadpool impale you with two Katanas. You headbutted the merc and pulled the blades out of your body and threw them aside.

Black veins rippled up your arms but before you could blast Deadpool he pulled out two guns and fired at you repeatedly. Your body jerked violently and you stumbled backwards, teetering precariously close to the edge of the roof.

The bar splintered under Bucky’s hand as he was forced to watch helplessly as you fell over the edge and plummeted towards the ground.

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

This chapter was an absolute bitch to get out, I struggled with the worst case of writers' block I have ever had with it. Eventually, I realized it wasn't going to get any better and I needed to move on. For those wanting more heartfelt stuff, the reason there isn't more is because it's all in the actual wedding chapters (part of what made this so difficult). I'm somewhat pleased with what I eventually wrote and I hope you are as well.

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first @thejourneyneverendsx @thelostallycat @inquisitor-selvala @the-corruptor @iovher @kendrawr-kitkat @phoenix-whiskey-tears @the–real-wombat @buckitybarnes @fairislesheets @angieptt @meganjonezzzz @dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty @memanda17 @krystallynx @theonelittleone @piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes @tarastudiesalot @captainamericasbeard @dropthepizza346 @jaynnanadrews @likes-to-smell-books @drdorkus @life-wanderer @metalarmlover @animegirlgeeky @jsmith509 @chipilerendi @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @ericasabe @gravedollie666 @madlykpopfan @l0kisbitch @mywinterwolf @sassysweetstories @life-wanderer @jessieray98 @littledeadrottinghood @myfandomlife-blog @spnrvt @dahkness @sexyvixen7 @dilaila95 @liveonce-sodoitright @uuuuuuuuggggghhh @mywinterwolf @myfandomlife-blog @pinkisokay @thosesexytexasboys

#hattersmarvelverse #bucky x reader

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mike-is-a-zombie · 6 years

Text

Comfort

Hi, here´s my Thing for the third day of the Thorbruce Week, I hope you enjoy it :) (Ao3)

It wasn´t until well a year into their relationship until he realised something – and then asked himself how he possibly could have missed it.

Bruce woke up feeling cold, the blanket was gone, he probably had kicked it off the bed during the night that was nothing special, he had been haunted by nightmare for Years and years, if Bruce thought it over he would say that he didn’t remind a time without waking up in the middle of the night screaming or crying and bathed in sweat. It had gotten better though, ever since Thor and he started dating his boyfriend had woken him up before his dreams became worse, he held him in his arms, just letting Bruce know he was safe, the scientist could count the times he didn’t wake up to Thor next to him on both his hands, the occasions where he didn’t even leave a message were even less. And that was the thing.

It was the dead of night and Thor was nowhere to be seen, he didn’t leave some kind of message and the door to the bathroom which was connected to their joined bedroom was open, the lights were off. Bruce’s heart started to race, feeling panic rise in his chest, Thor wouldn’t just – leave, would he? The scientist shook his head, trying to get this thought out of his head. Thor would never just leave me without a word, he thought, angry about himself, he knew that something was wrong. Bruce slipped out of the bed. Their little apartment was completely silent except of the usual sounds of cars way down at the foot of the tower, “I have a bad feeling about this” Bruce muttered to himself to fill the unsettling silence that filled the hallway, he should have taken the flashlight in his nightstand with him instead of just going for it. Suddenly he heard a noise, the scientist tensed up, held his breath; it sounded like heavy breathing, the kind of breathing to suppress sobs, the kind of breathing to calm down after crying too long, the kind of breathing that meant something was very, very wrong.

Bruce burst into the living room, throwing the door open. On their couch sat Thor, obviously startled by the sudden appearance of his boyfriend, he had been crying, that was easy for Bruce to see due to the god’s puffy eyes. “Thor? What happened, what is wrong? Why do you sit here all alone at this ungodly hour?” the scientists voice was heavy with concern, he took the last to steps to reach his boyfriend and let himself sink down next to him, pulling him in his arms. Thor remained silent for a minute letting him be rocked back and forth slowly “I´m sorry I woke you up” he answered silently, tears glistening in his eyes again, “You don’t get enough sleep anyways Love, go back to bed, I´m fine…” Bruce pushed him back a little to look at Thor properly “You are not fine” he stated softly “Don’t try to denial it, you look like you have cried for hours, please tell me what is wrong…” the scientist ran his fingers through Thors hair affectionally, it had grown a little after the events in Sakaar, but after some time the god had decided to cut it off again.

After some more time of silence and staring at each other Bruce sighted, his eyebrows furrowed. “Darling, you are crying again… Look, Thor, you don’t have to say what´s wrong when you do not feel up to it, okay? Just don’t try to tell me it´s nothing, because trust me, I can tell…” Thor just nodded before burying his face in the crook of his boyfriends’ neck, sobbing again. The angle he was bend to be able to be embraced completely by Bruce looked rather uncomfortable due to him being way smaller than Thor, but he didn’t seem to mind. Bruce hummed silently, he ran one of his hands up and down Thors spine, the other one playing with his hair.

“I-it´s stupid…” Thor mumbled after a while, his voice thick of tears. “I bet it´s not” Bruce pressed a kiss on the top of his boyfriends´ head, encouraging him to continue. “Sometimes…” Thor took some time to collect his thoughts, shifting so he was now leaning against Bruce’s shoulder, “Sometimes I wake up at night, and I- I think I see Mother or Father or… or Loki or Heimdall, and I can not move, becuase i know that as soon as I can move, even just do as much as blinking, they are gone… again…” Thor hiccupped a little, grabbing Bruce’s left hand with both of his, wanting to make sure he was no hallucination, wanting to know is boyfriend with him. “Oh god, Love...” Bruce felt horrible, how long had this been going on without him even suspecting Thor, the ever-optimistic sunshine of the Avengers being stuck in this deep swamp of grieve? How was he oblivious to the fact that he was not the only one with problems, wanting to believe that Thor got over the death of his best friend and his family, the people that always were with him as long as he could remember, as easy as he wanted to make everyone believe? “That’s not silly, it is only natural for people to grieve after a loss, especially when it was four people in as little time... I am the stupid one for never noticing ho bad you felt, grieving is not a weakness, it is was makes us people...”

“Usually Asgardians do not- grieve like humans do” Thors eyes were trained on the black screen of the TV “Usually we know that the dead who died on the battlefield will live on in Valhalla so we mourn for some time, but then we celebrate the dead, except of father everyone did die in a fight, but... where do the dead go now? Asgard is destroyed and all of the Asgardians are gone, which means so is Valhalla so... is there no life after death for my loved ones? Are they just gone? They do not deserve to just disappear, they deserve to feast and drink with fellow warriors, they deserve to laugh and having mock fights, they deserve everything and so much more” his voice was dry, it hurt Bruce to see Thor like this, he had red, puffy eyes and bags under his now dull eyes, every hint of his usual happiness gone,

“See Thor, you are not alone with those fears, that is why humanity believes in Gods” he held his breath for a second, waiting for Thor to contradict, telling him that humans did not make up all religions, he was a god himself after all, but not a noise escaped Thors mouth, he just waited for Bruce to keep talking in his soothing voice “People do not want to think about their loved ones just fading away, if you want I could tell you about other religions and the life after death? If you don’t know about those yet I mean...” Thor shook his head lightly, “Thank you love, I would like to try to find solace in those stories, but I have to tell you something first that- that is not the only thing. So many of my loved ones have died in the last months... I am deeply afraid that... well, that I will lose you too, if not on the battlefield or an accident because of your age... I could not live with nobody left.” Now Thor shivered, silent tears running down his face again. He had cried way too much in this night, but after keeping his emotions and fears bottled up for so long he just lost it while talking to Bruce. Silence fell over them, the scientist choosing his next few words very careful to not upset Thor even more, but rather give him some security.

“I have always hated Hulk.” He started slowly, not sure whether it was a good idea to tell the god, but he didn’t see another solution and Thors emotional stability couldn’t possibly crumble much more, so he gave it a shot: “I hated him for various reasons, for example because I hurt people with no chance of stopping it, he made me lose control. And for a long time, the most important reason to hate him was that he made me... made me live.” Questionably Thor looked up to him from where he laid on Bruce’s shoulder, “Yes, when I hit rock bottom he didn’t even let me die, when I tried I turned... and he always just healed... but now, now this is the one trait of Hulk I love, do you know why, Love?” Thor shook his head, clinging even harder on Bruce “Because my aging is significantly slower, in the case that I die it would take so much longer than a normal human. I am not even sure that I can die of age. Or at all. I might outlive you.”

Bruce laid his head on Thors “I love you more than everything, and I will never leave... please, always remember this Thor, it´s very important to me” Bruce pulled Thor even closer, holding him tight,

“I will never leave, unless you ask me to.”

#thorbruce week #thorbruce #thruce #gammahammer #fanfiction #thruce fanfiction #thor #bruce banner #thorbruce fanfiction

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ksgeekgirl · 6 years

Text

One Year Anniversary

Submission for #kaits8kangstchallenge. So sorry to Kait (@bionic-buckyb) for the lateness of this post, but hope you like it. No beta, and lots of caffeine, so all grammar errors and type-o’s are mine. Only my second piece i’ve let out, so please be gentle ;)

Word Count: 1833 (cause i’m a long winded bitch)

Warnings: language, hint o’smut - there is more to this if anyone is interested in reading it.

IMAGE IS NOT MINE. I FOUND IT ON GOOGLE WITH NO CLEAR SOURCE. IF IT’S YOURS, PLEASE LET ME KNOW AND I’LL GIVE YOU CREDIT.

One-year punch

12 months punch

365 days punch

One trip around the fucking sun.

With one final punch I fell against the heavy bag, wiping my hair back as sweat drips off the tip of my nose onto the puddle i’m making on the mat. Out of, habit, i rub the fresh scar on my side, only the bumpy flesh and tinge of pain reminding me it was there. When I joined the Avengers a year ago, I didn’t think this was how my “work anniversary” would go.

Alone. Six months after a gunshot wound. Being a mere mortal among heroes wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

So, here I am. Perfectly healed, in fact I was in better shape than Nat currently, but I was here holding down the fort while the rest of the team was out on a mission. All because the good Captain didn’t think I was “up to the challenge.”

Bottom line. Steve Rogers doesn’t like me.

It’s taken me a full year to admit it, because everyone likes me. But not Steve. He’s never liked me and he doesn’t want me on the team. But here I am.

When we first met, I was in awe of him--and it wasn’t the physical aspect. Not that I didn’t notice. I mean have you seen him? WOW. I MAY have even gawked seeing him shirtless for the first time. In fact, I had to keep myself from petting him, but I digress. The real reason for the awe was that he has integrity. Real, honest to god, integrity.

In a world of instagram stars and man buns, old-fashioned integrity is in short supply. It only took one conversation with Steve - not Cap but STEVE - to know that he had integrity in spades. He doesn’t just treat people with respect. He actually respects them.

Except for me.

To him, Y/FN Y/LN was just one more asset that needed protection. He is warm and engaging with other team members. But when interacting with me, he’s ALL business. No eye contact. No encouragement.

And i’ve tried. I’ve managed to find my way with all the team members. I won Thor over with baked goods, who knew the god of Thunder had a sweet tooth. I got on Bruce’s good side by digging in and learning the science and not just glazing over. Hell, I trained so hard that i could spar with Bucky when it came to knives.

The Winter Fucking Solider calls me doll and is more encouraging that Steve. Nothing I do is ever enough for him.

Y/N picked the wrong movie. Y/N cooked the wrong food. Y/N isn’t ready for the mission and should stay here. Every disappointing look and backhanded comment was a dagger that twisted, not only in your gut but in your heart.

And what happened when you did finally go on a mission? Steve was proved right and you were shot. Never mind that you were able to get the files the team went in for while bleeding out. Or that you had your wits about you enough that you landed a knife in the jugular on the bad guy before passing out. Nope, getting shot = not ready to Cap.

Following that mission, I was in the hospital for a week. I lost a lot of blood and it was touchy for a while. I don’t even remember the first two days, but when I came too the entire team took turns staying with me.

Except Steve.

Oh, he came by. Stood in the door. Asked if I was okay. Chastised me for taking a stupid risk. But that was it.

In the six months that followed, I have completely recovered - ask the heavy bag and Tony’s many doctors - but still no mission. Only Captain America can green light you returning to the field. And even with integrity...Captain America couldn’t see past what Steve Rogers thought.

So with that, i’m done trying.

I took a deep breath, resting my forehead on the bag, the weight of the last year weighing on me and the realization that I wouldn’t likely have a second anniversary heavy on my heart. Taking a pull off my water bottle I pushed the bag away, making it swing as I delivered a hard one-two punch. Imagining Steve’s face as the jab landed.

“Fuck Steve Rogers”

“Language”

A chill ran up my spine as the deep baritone echoed through the training room. i can’t catch a break with this man. I took a deep breath and went back to swinging, the sound of my punches landing filling the silence.

“Welcome back Captain. Hope the mission went well.”

Steve walked over and steadied the bag. Holding it as i kept swinging, the chink of the chain holding the bag silenced. The thud of my punches matching my heartbeat.

“It was successful,” he quipped “nobody got shot.”

I stopped briefly, snarling at him as I kneed the bag, pushing him back a little. “Well good, we sure can’t afford to have two of us out for six months, but then again everyone else heals faster don’t they?”

“Y/N”

I could see the muscle in his jaw flex. A sure sign he was frustrated with me. I punched even harder, my shirt soaked through with sweat. Shoulders and thighs burning...I was going to pay for this in the morning.

“Y/N. Stop.”

But I couldn’t make myself. I aimed a side kick at the bag, and Steve to be honest, but he’s a damn super solider and caught my leg. His hand on my calf sending shivers up my spine as I looked at him.

“Let go of my leg Cap.”

“We need to talk Y/N...”

“Fantastic. Let. Go. Of. My. LEG.” I yanked my leg from his hand as I said this, walking away. I kept my back to Steve as I gathered my emotions, beginning to unwrap my hands. “What do you want to talk...”

Steve cut me off, “Y/N you are training entirely too hard. You could aggravate your injury. You’re not healed yet.”

“But actually I am Steve.” I drop down on the bench as I thrown the wraps in the trash. I bend over and begin unlacing my shoes while I talk.”

“EVERY doctor in Tony’s employ has given me the green light.” I take off my left shoe and throw it down. “In fact, EVERY fucking physical therapist in this tower has said that they don’t need to see me anymore.” My right shoe joins the pile, bouncing as I throw it.

“So,” I pick up a towel, wiping my face and arms, “unless you’re now DOCTOR Captain America, I AM OK.”

Breathing heavy, more from anger than from the work out, I pull off my t-shirt and throw it into the hamper. As usual, Steve isn’t making eye contact but staring in the mid-distance at the mat. Letting out a big sigh, I run my hands through my sweaty hair and cross my arms under my breasts.

“Can you at least look at me when you fire me Steve?”

His head snaps up, finally rewarding me with eye contact. The full brunt of his blue gaze causing me to squirm a little and wonder if I had escalated this too quickly.

“Fire you?” He asks a little confused before letting loose a bitter laugh. “Why in the world would I fire you Y/N?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted to talk to me about? Letting me go?” Doubt starts to creep in as I gnaw on my lower lip, watching him.

“No. Not at all. I wanted to talk to you about...I mean...I think we need to talk about...really I need to tell you how...” Steve shoves his hands in his pockets, looking around. Finally he squares his shoulders and walks over, so close to me that I can see the flecks of green in his cornflower eyes. “We need to talk about us.”

“And by us, you mean how you can barely tolerate me?” I retort, holding my ground. “Don’t waste your time Steve. You win, I’m done trying.”

“Wait. What?” Steve looks genuinely confused. I feel myself soften, thinking this is the break i’ve wanted but there is no time to soften now.

“Come on Steve. I can tell by the way you look at me.”

“And how exactly am I looking at you Y/N?” Steve is standing in full Captain America pose, hands on his hips, feet spread wide, jaw clinched. The only sound in the room is the fans whirring and our breath. So it’s come to this.

“You look like you’re going to punch me,” I smart back, my chin tilting up. A challenge against my better judgement.

“I was actually going to kiss you, but if you’re into that sort of thing then i’m out.”

My eyes widened, stammering as I looked up at him, “What? I’m so confused. You what?” My brain unable to complete a thought.

Steve reached out and took my hand in his, thumb running over my knuckles red from my workout, a half smile on his face.

“Y/N, it’s not that I don’t like you. I like you too much. You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re fearless -- even when you should be. You remind me of Peggy, but not in an ‘old flame way’ but in a ‘there’s a woman that could challenge me’ way.”

As i stare at him, like a guppy gasping for air as he moves his free hand to cup my cheek. Caressing my jaw as he tilts my chin up.

“When you go shot, I was terrified. I couldn’t do anything but sit there. I couldn’t even donate blood.” He chuckled at the dumbfounded look on my face. “So, I took it out on you. I can’t be scared if you aren’t in danger. But that isn’t fair.”

“So, our friends took matters into their own hands and told me that i talked to you or they would.” Steve let out a big breath, resting his forehead on mine. “THAT’S what I wanted to talk to you about.”

i shook my head slightly, eyebrows knitted together.

“But you don’t like me...” my brain unable to catch up with what he is saying.

“Maybe this will help you understand.”

With that, Steve leans down. His breath ghosting over my face as my eyes close. I’m fairly sure i’m hallucinating until I feel that pressure of his soft lips against mine. The touch is like plugging into an electrical socket as I let out a small gasp. Steve seizing the opportunity to brush his tongue against my lower lip, coaxing my mouth open. I feel him smile against me as our tongues meet, the knuckles of his hand trapped between us grazing my nipples through my sports bra.

It was too much.

I slowly step back, our lips the last thing to separate. I needed physical distance to process everything. My eyes slowly blinking as I look up at Steve, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Y/N...are you okay?”

Then, with all the polish an sophistication I could muster, I find my voice.

“I’m sweaty.”

Really? Not what I meant to say. Nope. The only explanation is that Steve Rogers short circuited my brain. And just like that he starts laughing. It’s the most joyous thing i’ve ever heard, and i’m not even upset that he’s laughing at me.

“Y/N if i’d have known that was all it too to get you to shut up, I’d have done that months ago,” he smarts off while wiping tears of laugher from his cheeks. My nostrils flare a little as I land a good punch on his arm in response. Getting his laughter under control he rests his hands on my waist, thumbs rubbing little circles on my skin. “Seriously though, are you okay?”

I smile, tentatively moving my hands to his biceps. A small portion of my brain, registers that they feel better than they look.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Surprised, but fine.” Biting my lip, I look up a smile playing across my lips. “But I am sweaty.”

“Very!” He leans forward, placing a kiss on my forehead before stepping back. “You should probably go shower.”

“Good idea.” I turn and heads towards the elevator and my rooms, leaving Steve standing in the center of the mat. At the elevator doors I push the button and look over my shoulder. Pulling my hair to the side as I shoot Steve a wink.

“You coming Cap or you just gonna stand there?”

The slap of his feet hurrying across the mat letting me know that my Avengers anniversary wasn’t turning out as bad as I thought.

Tags: @bionic-buckyb @heather-lynn

#kaits8kangstchallenge #@bionic-buckyb

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tessatechaitea · 6 years

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Batman #50

Why is this an anniversary issue? Does DC not know how years work? Or weddings?

Fact: Snickers' vampires grow their canine teeth in the wrong place. No wait. The fact is the artist of this piece is a dolt.

The story begins with Kite Man getting the crap kicked out of him by Batman and Catwoman because Tom King's hard on for Kite Man is legendary. It's so big and thick and veiny! I wonder what part of Kite Man Tom King likes best? Is it the kite part? Or the man part? Batman and Catwoman decide to get married on the blood spot where Kite Man was defeated at the break of day. Because that's when bats and cats are most horny. It might also be the place least likely to have a Joker ruin it. "Isn't it 'the' Joker, Grunion Guy?" you probably aren't now asking. But if you were, I might have to remind you that there are three Jokers in the DC Universe. Nobody has really elaborated on that too much. Maybe nobody was ever meant to. Perhaps it's just an easy way for DC editors to answer huge nerd critics of their comics. Huge Nerd Critic: "How come the Joker wasn't act...." DC Editor: "THERE ARE THREE OF THEM! CHRIST YOU NERDS ARE GETTING ON MY LAST TIT!" Batman finds a judge for the marriage ceremony. His name is Wolfman and he's known as the Raping Judge. Not because he's into rape! That's a terrible thought and nobody should think it. It's because he's named after Marv Wolfman who is totally into rape. Catwoman's witness for the marriage (her and Batman each get to bring one) is Holly Robinson. Not the Holly Robinson of 21 Jumpstreet fame (is she still famous for that? Or is she famous for marrying Barry Sanders?!) but the one that murdered all of those people who Catwoman was blamed for murdering. She has to break her out of Arkham for the experience. Batman should be totally cool with that and definitely won't be thinking, "What the hell?! How many times do I have to tell her, 'No crime! Bad kitty! You're going to be punished for sure!'" Then he'll think about her whip and smirk a bit and think, "Oh yeah. I see why she keeps doing crime now." If you read that last paragraph and began developing a hot take on what I'm not saying around the words I am saying, just stop now. I'm just reporting what Batman was probably thinking. I'm not agreeing with his need to control Catwoman's thoughts and actions! That's all Bruce Wayne, baby! The issue is made up of a lot of pin-ups by various artists. Laid out over the pin-ups are Batman and Catwoman's words. They're probably their vows but since I'm not done reading, that's just a guess. Anyway, the layout, where everything is kind of a mirror of the opposite page, is pure Tom King which probably pissed off all the Tom King haters. "He's just repeating everything in that way that means nothing except he's trying to be smarter than us! Why the fuck does he have to use form?! And tones?! And theme!? What's wrong with Batman punching stuff for eight pages straight?! So obnoxious!" I began this review with the joke that the wedding obviously won't work out. This is comic books. Everybody read that initial paragraph and rolled their eyes and thought, "Yeah. We know this is a huge farce. It's going to end in disaster." But how many of you thought, "Grunion Guy probably really means what he's writing here. The big fag." First off, such language! Come on, imaginary reader. Be better! Second, I did mean it. I do mean it. I really hope that Tom King surprises us and he allows Batman and Catwoman to be happily married. Why not for as long as he's writing this book? Why can't they have part of their middle story be one where they get the joy of being together? Who is that going to harm?! So now you know my secret. No, not that I'm a big fag! Sheesh. You people are terrible. I mean, yeah, that's my secret! But I wouldn't word it that way, you gross jerks. Selina and Bruce have their big wedding kiss in the exact middle of the book which can't be a good sign for how it's going to end. I mean, they haven't had the wedding yet! They just get all dressed up and then meet, right in the middle, right there on the staples (okay, not exactly because the staples come the page before. But I blame an error in the layout of the advertisements. I see what you were trying to do, Tom King. I got you!). The big loving embrace. The big kiss in their wedding finery. The moment they knew was coming. And hopefully not the last moment they were happy. Don't you dare, Tom King, with your shitty mirror image story telling that everybody hates (I mean, not me! Just the dumb critics!), do that mirror thing with this story. Don't you begin hopeful, get to a middle that's the peak of happiness, and then descend into chaos, despair, and destruction! DON'T YOU FUCKING DO IT, TOM KING!

This is the page immediately after the big kiss (and the pin-ups, of course! Every two page spread of story is followed by two pages of pin-ups and wedding vows). Things are already tumbling down the story's climactic peak!

Of course Alfred is Batman's witness. Even Alfred knew it would be him but he was too polite to assume so he still gets emotional when Bruce asks him. Or, rather, casually tells him like it's no big deal. On the subject of the pin-ups: they tell the story of Batman and Catwoman across DC's history. It even feels like, in many cases, they use artists chronologically along the way (there are obvious places where this doesn't hold up. But it, mostly, feels fairly close to the mark). They even eventually get to the New 52 on the roof sex scene, and the recent double date with Clark and Lois. It's really quite sweet. The wedding vows have a lot to do with one partner's thoughts on the other partner's eyes. It's romantic but not in that way that makes me think, "Oh boy! At the end of these vows, they're going to declare their undying love for each other!" The tone feels more like they'll cause me to exclaim, "Oh no! It sounds like they're both reaching the conclusion that maybe they shouldn't get married! But they'll still probably keep up the tradition of fucking on rooftops!" Also, I'm nearing the end and not a single whiff of Batcow. As Selina and Holly head to the wedding, Selina mentions that she's currently writing Batman a letter. So that's what the "vows" have been. Her letter. And Batman's letter to her (I'm assuming on the next page which I have yet to read, he'll confess to Alfred that he's also been working on a letter!). Both of which, as I mentioned in the previous paragraph, seem to be heading to the conclusion that neither one will want to go through with the marriage because they feel it will go against, and possibly change, the very nature of the other person. So. You know. Shit. And so, Selina declares, in her letter, that she can't marry Batman because it will kill him. And Bruce declares in his letter, that maybe he can become somebody happy. Maybe he can change. Which isn't exactly what I expected. I thought they would both agree. So, at least, Tom King surprised me on that level. And, apparently, that was the point since Holly goes back to Arkham to discover Bane and a bunch of other people who have been highlighted in Tom King's run (along with Poorly Shaved Batman. I don't remember if that's somebody or if that's Batman and this is all a hallucination of some kind or maybe Tom King is speaking through Bane or maybe...well, I don't know!). Bane says, "The Bat is broken," (which is a terrific pun that somebody once thought up and now Batman writers can't stop using!). Rating:: I guess giving Batman hope that he can be happy and then taking it away is supposed to break Batman? But isn't the whole point that Batman's unhappiness and grim misery and obsession over justice are the only things keeping him Batman? Won't this devastating loss just make him even more Batmanier?! Or do the members of Batman's rogue's gallery all believe he's going to become a pouting emo baby for the next few months? A total pushover which they can take advantage of?! Anyway, it was a good story well told. The only flaw was that the staples were off by one page. Stupid layout editor! Somebody should fire whoever's job it was to place the ads!

#Batman #DC Comics #Tom King #Mikel Janin #June Chung

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camsthisky · 7 years

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Determined Ghosts

Part 1 | Part 2

ao3 | ff.net

Summary: A gala, supposed to be spent by eating cakes and wearing a pretty dress, goes wrong. But honestly? What doesn't in Steph's life? Still, they better figure this out before it's more than just Dick that's hurt.

Stephanie’s eating one of those tiny little cakes that absolutely is not enough in any way whatsoever when Tim walks into her line of sight, head craning this way and that over the crowd of people Bruce has invited into his home for yet another gala-party-thingamajig. And—dear god, the boy is short. He’s on his tip toes.

“Timmy, dearest,” Steph says, only a little bit mockingly, and Tim’s gaze snaps to hers, eyes wide and owlish, like he hadn’t even seen her standing next to the dessert table. Which. That’s not that worrying, considering that Tim works on like, less than two hours of sleep a night.

Maybe Steph can get Cass to arm wrestle Tim into going to sleep instead of patrol tonight. And she can casually suggest a movie night to Dick. Dick will jump on anything that involves family bonding time, and Tim’ll be out cold in no time.

“Steph?” he asks, and now he’s giving her a weird look, like he hadn’t even known she was here at the gala-party-thingamajig. Again, very possible. For a person who’s supposed to be one of the best detectives, Tim can miss the most obvious things. He blinks a couple times, seems to accept that she’s not some sleep deprived hallucination, and walks over to her. “Did you need something?”

“No,” Steph says, shoving the rest of the tiny—tiny. Steph is going to have words with Alfred later—cake into her mouth. She swallows and raises an eyebrow. “Did you need something?”

Tim shrugs, head swiveling to look out over the crowd again. “I’m looking for Dick.”

“He was over by Damian earlier,” Steph says. “I think the brat brought his sword, and Bruce refused to deal with it. By default, it was Dick’s problem.”

“No, I know that,” Tim says distractedly. “I was standing right there when Damian started swearing at Dick. It was hilarious.”

“Yeah, you sound like it really changed your world,” Steph snorts.

Tim wrinkles his nose. “That was almost an hour ago, Steph.”

“Mhmm,” Steph says, debating whether it’d be a good idea to stuff the brand new purse that Bruce had gotten her the other day with the entire plate of mini-cakes and how much she’d get yelled at if she was caught. “And?”

“I saw him after that, though,” Tim tells her, following her gaze. He rolls her eyes when he catches on to what she’s planning on doing. “You know you can literally have Alfred make you bigger portions later, right?”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Timmy,” Steph says sweetly.

“It is not.”

“Is, too,” and then Steph finally makes her decision and starts grabbing a few of everything. Because if she’s going to stuff her purse, then she’s going to go all the way. Maybe Cass would be willing to share with her later. If not Cass, then definitely Dick. Speaking of, “Why are you looking for Dick, anyways?”

Tim blows out a heavy breath and sort of deflates, and it has enough umph to it that Steph stops raiding the dessert table to stare at him.

“Um,” she says.

Tim runs a hand down his face. “Sorry. It’s just—He went to go grab something from his room. Said it was important and just left.”

“And?” Steph prompts. “What’s so bad about that?”

“It’s been almost a half hour since I’ve seen him, Steph. And I’ve been around the room twice,” Tim tells her, and he leans back against a nearby pillar. He looks exhausted—well. More exhausted than usual, and Steph has half a mind to find Dick herself and tell him to tell Tim to stop worrying. And when he talks again, his voice is small. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Of course, it just so happens that that’s when the lights go out.

Steph drops her dessert-filled purse and grabs Tim’s hand, pulling him close. People start murmuring and muttering, and Steph has a feeling that Bruce’s gala-party-thingamajig has gone south real fast.

“Should we grab our uniforms?” she wonders, her voice soft enough that she’s sure only Tim hears her.

“No,” Tim says. “We don’t know if this is an attack or—”

The lights flicker. On, off. Someone screams bloody murder, and people start running for the exit as quick as they can. Someone shoulder checks Steph and she stumbles, but Tim tightens his hold on her hand and pulls her upright.

She whirls on him a second later, raising an eyebrow and shouting in order to be heard over the cacophony of panic, “You were saying?!”

“We still don’t—” He stumbles forward as someone bumps into him, too, but he stays on his feet. Pity. It’d have been funny to see him faceplant. Probably not the best time, though. He pulls her closer. “We still don’t know what’s going on!”

“Bruce?”

Tim nods. “Bruce.”

Somehow—holy shit, somehow—they make it through the throng of panicked people crowding the exits to the back of the room and over to where they can see Bruce standing with Damian, Cass, and the Commissioner. By the time they make it to them, most everyone is gone, and the lights are back to normal.

Dick’s nowhere to be found, though, and Tim and Steph share a look.

Bruce is staring at them. Steph knows that there’s no way he didn’t catch that, but he doesn’t comment on it. Yet, at least. Maybe it’s because the Commissioner is still standing there, or maybe it’s because they’ve got bigger things to worry about.

“Are you two alright?” he asks instead.

Tim nods and finally lets go of Steph’s hand, and she shakes it out, flexing it a few times, too. She hadn’t realized how hard Tim had been gripping it until he’d stopped, and she shoots him a concerned look he only grimaces at.

When she realizes that Bruce is still looking at her, waiting for her answer, she makes a face. “I’m fine, you big worrywart. Tim saved me from landing on my face, and I was disappointed by not seeing Tim land on his.”

“Hey!”

“I regret that it did not happen, as well,” Damian says, and he sounds seriously sad about it. Sheesh. Steph had forgotten that the brat had it out for Tim.

“Come at me and you’ll regret it,” Tim says, not a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Like you could take me down,” Damian scoffs.

Tim tenses, but backs off when Bruce clears his throat purposely, his eyes flashing dangerously. It’s so unsubtle and—God, after years, Steph still can’t believe Bruce Wayne can act like he does in public when all he seems to be is a big pile of brood and dad. She can see where Tim gets it from, at least. The brooding and acting part, not the dad part.

Next to Bruce, Jim Gordon sighs. “I’m going to see if I can round up a few of my men, Bruce,” he says. His rake over all of them, before they meet Bruce’s again. “I’ll be back soon, but it’s better that all of you stay together. Just in case.”

Bruce smiles, and Steph wonders if it’s painful for him. It certainly looks painful. “Thank you, Jim.”

And with that, the Commissioner’s gone, Bruce drops the smile, and it’s just the five of them standing there. Nobody says anything for a few seconds, and so Steph steps up. It’s like, her thing by now. She could probably major in it if she wanted to. She’s surrounded by so many emotionally stunted idiots that she’s got enough practical experience, after all.

Except Cass. Cass is great.

“So?” Steph says, folding her arms over her chest and raises her eyebrows. “Whatever’s happening, it better be good. I lost my dessert purse for this.”

Cass giggles, and Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. Tim doesn’t react much, but Damian scowls at her in confusion. It’s great. So many different reactions in so few words. She should get an award.

“I don’t want to know,” Bruce tells her. “Did anyone see anything?”

“Dick disappeared,” Tim says.

Steph elbows Tim. “You don’t know that. All you said was that Dick left to get something from his room. And technically that’s not seeing anything.”

“It’s the lack of seeing something,” Tim argues.

“Grayson is probably playing a prank,” Damian says, a somewhat adorable scowl on his face and—good god, does this child not know how to smile? Did he inherit Bruce’s gene of feeling pain while smiling? Someone needs to teach Damian how to have fun, and soon.

Cass frowns. “I don’t think so.”

Well, Cass’s word is law, after all. At least, it is to Steph. It’s a rare occasion that Cass has been wrong—though, it has happened before, Steph’s sure. She just can’t remember—and Steph doesn’t think now is one of those times.

Damian’s scowl inches closer and closer to a worried frown. “Then where is he?”

“Kidnapped?” Tim suggests weakly.

Steph grimaces. Dick’s a slippery one, especially when it comes to kidnapping. He’s got acrobatic skills he can use in self-defense, curtesy of his circus roots, and it’s an advantage that none of the other kids really have.

Something shatters upstairs, and the five of them freeze. And then, before Steph realizes it, Tim’s darting for the stairs, the rest of them just a beat behind him. They stop at the top of the stairs, and Steph gapes at what she sees.

“I think that I’m going to be sick,” she says, staring in horror at the giant puddle of blood soaking into the carpet. “Like, someone find me a toilet to throw up in, kind of sick.”

“You’re not,” Cass tells her, and Steph sighs.

“I’m not,” she agrees, but she can’t take her eyes off of the puddle. “But that is still disturbing. I sleep here, Tim.”

“Yeah, but you don’t live here,” Tim says, and Steph manages to take her eyes away from the scene in front of her to glance at him. He looks pale, and he’s got that look in his eyes, where his thoughts are racing a mile minute. It’s a little disconcerting, actually.

“I sleep here enough that I basically live here,” Steph says.

“Enough,” Bruce says, his eyes hard and unforgiving. “Cassandra, go get Jim. As of right now, this is a crime scene until we rule out otherwise.”

Cass nods, and she’s just about to leave when Steph hears a voice from down the hall. She frowns because—that was from Dick’s room.

“You guys heard that, right?” Steph asks. “Because if you didn’t, I’m out. Outtie 5000. Good-freaking-bye. Stephanie Brown has left the building and isn’t coming back. All that jazz.”

“I heard it,” Bruce says. And Steph can only watch as he makes his way down the hall towards his son’s room, Damian and Tim not even hesitating—or arguing—before following after him.

Steph shares an uneasy glance with Cass and she bites her lip. “What do you think?”

Cass doesn’t speak for a moment, but then she nods her head in the direction the boys had gone, and Steph can’t help but deflate in disappointment. Just a little. This is a little different than being in uniform, and she’s not happy that she’s doing this in a short sparkly dress Cass had picked out for her.

Cass looks at ease, though, and Steph appreciates it when her best friend holds her hand and squeezes. Steph smiles back.

“Guess we should go watch their backs, huh?”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Cass replies, and Steph’s smile grows a bit more genuine.

“Right, right,” Steph breathes. And then they skirt around the puddle. “Well. Might as well get on with it, right? I can totally use my heels as a weapon, right? That’s somewhat socially acceptable? Actually, don’t answer that. If it comes down to it, I’m doing it anyways. Watch out, thugs, I’m armed and dangerous with heeled shoes, and I can attest that getting hit in the face with one really freaking hurts. So watch out for—”

Steph stutters to a stop, both physically and mentally. She’s standing in the doorway to Dick’s bedroom, but—but.

“What happened?” she whispers to Tim, who looks about as clued in as she does.

His wide eyes flick to her helplessly before they’re back on Bruce, who’s checking Dick’s pulse. Dick, as it turns out, has been passed out on the floor of his bedroom, blood oozing sluggishly from a cut on his forehead. Bruce is trying to gently rouse him, but besides the steady up-down motions of his chest as he breathes, Dick doesn’t move.

He’s dead to the world.

Steph shivers at the mental image that brings up.

Damian scoffs softly, and Steph glances over at him, watches as he watches Dick with worried, but angry eyes.

From somewhere else in the manor, there’s another crash, and the lights flicker again.

Bruce finally looks up, meeting each of their eyes in turn, and says, “There’s someone in the house.”

And yeah. Steph’s done.

#stephanie brown #tim drake #bruce wayne #dc #camryn writes #halloweencontentwar #batfamcontentwar #determined ghosts

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