#his anxiety is out of control and he's not about to go find a Bat or Bird to talk to

[little-pondhead]

Danny moved to Gotham.

Freakshow is touring in Gotham.

Freakshow knows Danny is in Gotham.

Danny knows Freakshow is still after him.

Danny's faith in heroes has been shattered.

Danny turns to the only person powerful enough to run Freakshow out of town, hopefully for good.

Danny turns to the Joker for help.

The Joker is looking for a new punching bag sidekick after Harley Quinn left him.

Danny is just the perfect person to be shaped by the Joker's hands.

Danny becomes the new Joker Junior.

[rogueddie]

Steve nearly winces when he steps into the room, following behind Dustin and Mike. He's already wishing he'd tried to shut Lucas up as soon as he'd tried to say that "no, really, I don't mind!"

Because of course he's this unlucky. Of course his date would skip out almost last minute, of course he'd end up with no excuse to avoid helping Dustin with his stupid D&D game and of course the person who probably hates Steve most is crouched on the biggest chair like it's a throne.

Eddie Munson eyes lock on him immediately. He stares for a while, making Dustin and Mike shift awkwardly beside him.

"Absolutely not. No way." He's grinning though. His eyes narrow slightly at Steve, like he's daring him to do something.

"You asked for a sub, we delivered."

Steve simply raises an eyebrow, pointedly shifting the sheets Dustin had helped him make up. It draws Eddies attention off his face, finally. When he looks back up, he's smiling a little more genuinely.

The guys standing at his sides are still glaring, looking almost cruelly excited when Eddie stands up, meandering his way over to them.

He gently plucks the sheet out Steves hand, eyebrows slowly raising as he reads.

Everyone is waiting, eyeing Eddie impatiently. Dustin and Mike are tense, as though waiting for Eddie to blow up. The others seem to expect the same, though Steve imagines they're more excited for it.

"Why did you come?" Eddie eventually asks, still holding onto the character sheet. "What could possibly be so important about this that King Steve would miss the championship game?"

"Dustin said this one was important," Steve shrugs. Fights to keep his calm demeaner. "Something about it being the last one or something. He's been going on about this shit forever. Seemed cruel to leave him high and dry at the last leg."

"Well…" Eddie eyes the character sheet before handing it back. Looks Steve up and down, before finally grinning. His eyes crinkle at the edges. "Welcome to Hellfire, Lady Elora."

He sticks his hand out. Steve shakes it, trying not to grin back.

Even with how often Dustin has talked to him about the game, Steve is clueless. Dustin and Mike both save him from embarressment every time though, quick to argue different options in such a pointed way that he knows the others aren't fooled by.

But Steve doesn't mind, often finds himself rolling his eyes at their antics only to find Eddie eyeing him almost fondly.

He finds that he enjoys it though. He'd make the character Elora as a joke, mostly just throwing whatever seemed to fit at random. An Elf who's a ranger, chaotic neutral, swinging around a bat with nails.

He wonders if it sounds as stupid to everyone else as it does to him.

He's often lost on the story too. But Eddie is brilliant at telling it. Even when he doesn't understand what he means, he flinches when the others yell at a reveal. Anxiety bubbling up when things get tense, slowly getting more and more invested in the game. Even he can tell that they're nearing the end, the final fight.

"You're scared, you're tired, you are injured," Eddie says. "Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?"

Steve already knows the answer before Dustin speaks up; "I say we fight. To the death!"

"To the death," Mike echoes, nodding.

"To the death." Steve sniffs, doesn't bother fighting the grin.

Eddie grins back at him, the others chanting the sentiment. Steve feels warm with his attention locked on him.

Steve has the first roll. He still doesn't understand the numbers, but the others cheer so he assumes it must be good. But then it goes downhill, so many bad rolls.

Everyone is too hyped up for Steve to keep up so he focuses on Eddie. He's jeering, jumping up out of his seat, encouraging the chaos and seeming to control the energy of the room. When he laughs, he sounds more like a movie villain.

And then, one of them calls time out.

They huddle into a circle, just like they did in basketball. Steve is surprised by how easily two of the older boys pull him in.

"Guys, I hate to say this but we have got to flee."

"I concur."

"Didn't we just agree 'to the death'?" Steve frowns. He's not ready to give up yet. He can feel how close they are.

"That wasn't literal!"

A hand tightens on his shoulder. "Vecna just decimated us. We can't kill him with two players."

"You too?" Dustin sounds just as annoyed as Steve feels. "Vecna only has 15 more hit points left, don't be pussies!"

"Pussies? Really? Cause we're not delusional?"

"No, no, Dustins right," Steve butts in. Barely holds back a warning to Dustin about his language; it's not the time for babysitting. "We're too close now, we can't give up!"

"HEY!" Eddie calls, easily drawing all their attention back to him. "If I may interject, gentleman… whilst I respect the passion, you'd be wise to take Garreth the Greats concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don't try to be heroes. Not today."

Something about his smirk and stupid head tilt just makes Steve more determined. If he has to continue fighting this stupid game alone, god dammit, he will.

Steve only half pays attention to Mike talking strategy. He's already made up his mind.

"What do you say, Elora?" Dustin turns to him, looking uncertain.

"We can kill him." Steve sounds more sure than he probably has any right to be. But he is. He can feel it in his bones. They can win.

"Fuck yeah we can," he grins at Steve. The others look more uncertain. Dustin turns back to Eddie, shoulders back, chin up and looking almost proud. "Let's kill this son of a bitch!"

Dustin gets first roll and it's bad.

It's all down to Steve.

He can feel how tense everyone is. Dustin and Gareth start yelling when he takes to long. But he can't roll yet, follows his gut; he has to get this right, has to roll at the right time.

It's just like swinging a bat in baseball, he tells himself. Just gotta time it right…

He rolls.

The dice seems to move in slow motion. Steve can almost hear each time it bounces off the board. The tension is so thick that it almost chokes him, for a moment he's sure that he can't breath.

20.

There's a moment where no one reacts. Then Dustin yells, grabbing Steves arm and shaking him in his excitement. Mike, a more similar height, throws his arms around his shoulders. It's a little painful to have him shouting directly in his ear but, he too, is too excited to care.

The others have started yelling too, Eddie dramatically overacting his shock too. Steve can't help but laugh.

It takes a while for everyone to calm down. An even longer moment to stop talking enough so they can start packing their things up. Steve only brought his jacket and character sheet, so he stays stood at the end of the table to wait for the kids.

Eddie keeps glancing up at him as he packs most of the pieces away.

"Harrington," Grant grins at him. "Never thought I'd be saying this but... thanks for coming."

"Oh, uh, yeah, no problem," Steve tries to smile.

"Dude, you missed the championship game to save our asses in DnD," Gareth grins, throwing his arm over his shoulder. "Who woulda thought, though. Steve Harrington, huh?"

The other two laugh. Steve finally feels a little lighter, on safer ground.

"How the mighty have fallen, huh?" Steve tries. And they laugh, Jeff slapping him on the back.

At the doorway, he lingers for a moment, whilst everyone else starts heading down the hall.

"Thanks for letting me play," Steve says, turning to Eddie. "I know I'm not... uh..."

"Don't strain yourself," Eddie waves him off. "It's fine. The kids have raved about you enough for me to figure out that you're a good dude."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You should join their next campaign."

"I don't know. You're graduating, right?"

"Aww, you like me that much, big boy?" He puts a hand to his chest, batting his eyelashes.

But Steve remembers the rumors that went around, remembers exactly how true they were proven to be. And, well...

"What would you say if I am?" He fires back.

Eddie, true to his reputation, is never one to back down from a fight; "then I'd tell you to ask me out like you mean it."

"Alright. If you're free tomorrow, 8pm, would you wanna go on a date? With me?"

"You picking me up in your fancy car?"

"If you want."

"Yeah, I'm free."

"So... that's a yes?"

"Yes, that's a yes."

Steve can't help but fistpump, but it makes Eddie giggle, so he counts it as a win.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

Steve’s bedroom door is open. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, pretty much everyone else wedged in here with him. Rob is on the bed too, leaning against him. Jon and Nance are sitting at the bottom. All the kids are sitting on the floor.

Everyone's quiet. Waiting. Straining to hear.

El and Eddie are next door.

And Steve has no fucking idea what the hell is going on.

The gates are all closed. Hawkins is a mess, but within the first twenty four hours there was a big push to start repairs. The government is probably pouring cash on this to tidy it up, clean it up, cover it up; make sure everyone knows it was an earthquake.

Gas main damaged in the quake leaked; if anyone saw anything weird, they’re already convinced it was a hallucination. So there’s that.

Everyone got out of hospital within hours; the worst off was probably Steve himself. His wounds from the bats, from their first run in with Vecna, still hadn't healed and one of them had been growing steadily more infected. He has fresh injuries from this time around; all of them inflicted by Eddie. Steve has two broken ribs, and he sounds like he's been smoking 100 a day for sixty years from where Eddie nearly choked him out. He needed twelve stitches in the nasty gash he picked up on the back of his head, but luckily no concussion this time. He's covered in scratches and bruises, but the hospital were happy to let him go with antibiotics and firm instructions to rest.

Eddie, surprisingly, has a clean bill of health. He was filthy, and the scars were bad but...otherwise, he didn’t have so much as an open scratch on him. Everything healed up completely. Which makes...no sense. Steve literally saw him die.

But that also means while they were preparing...planning...working to take down Vecna...he had Eddie the whole time. Potentially, that was nearly a week. The shock they had all had, seeing Eddie again. Obviously they hadn’t planned for that, hadn't factored it into their plans, and it completely and utterly fucked everything up.

They were done for. They were all going to die, no question. But something happened. Something changed. Steve was convinced he was about to get choked to death by Eddie, or maybe impaled on that ridiculous sword but...no. Eddie had blinked awake. And then he’d cut Vecna’s head clean off...which, unexpected, but still a win.

Eddie had dropped the sword, stumbling along after everyone else to get out before the gates closed on them.

Since then, Eddie's been silent. Going where he's told, stumbling through the examinations, sitting on the periphery of the group, staring into space. He looked broken, even to Steve, who realistically didn't know Eddie that well. Eddie had the vacant stare of someone who's just been though something traumatic.

When Dustin had tried to hug him, even, Eddie had flinched away.

No one tried to touch him after that, giving up talking to him pretty quickly. Eddie wasn't going to answer. Steve could practically watch Dustin getting more and more distressed over the state of Eddie. Everyone was aware; all they could do was sit and watch it happen.

Once they were out of the hospital they could look after him; try and figure out what the fuck was happening.

Eddie had disappeared pretty much the moment he had opportunity. He’d mumbled something about finding a bathroom, pretty much the first words he;d spoken, and as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly obvious that Eddie wasn't coming back. The hospital was a mess, and they were supposed to wait for Owens.

Obviously the kids weren’t willing to let him out of their sight that fast. Vecna’s done something to him, controlled him somehow, that much is obvious. Just...nobody knows what.

When Owens finally showed, it was done and dusted fast. They confirmed Henry/One was dead. Owens had a lot of other shit to sort out; they were no longer his priority and they knew it. Dustin had been ball of barely contained anxiety the whole time, clearly wanting to track down Eddie but...by some sort of group mutual understanding...no one mentioned Eddie was alive. No one said he'd come back with them.

In the confusion, no one seemed to question it. Owens clearly hadn't bothered to look at the hospital's records, or whatever it was he could do. They left as fast as they could without raising suspicion.

The kids had found Eddie again pretty quickly, more through luck than anything, but finding Eddie sitting on the porch of some random house, nursing a bottle of vodka was...well. Everyone’s got their own coping mechanisms, Steve guesses.

Eddie still hasn’t spoken about what happened, but he was pretty quick to pass out on the spare bed.

El’s got that look on her face when she comes back, like she’s thinking big thoughts.

“Is he okay?” Dustin asks first. Obviously there were concerns. Vecna had Eddie for days, there could be anything in Eddie’s head. What if there’s something...lingering...from Vecna? Could be a risk.

El shakes her head, “he is very sad.”

“Sad about what?” Nancy, this time.

“When Eddie was…” she makes a face, she doesn’t have the words, for a moment, to convey what she wants to say, she puts the fingertips of both hands together, making bars, “Vecna put Eddie’s mind in a cage, he doesn’t remember what his body was doing, I don’t think.”

“So Vecna had him as a kind of puppet? He couldn’t get out of the cage?” Robin clarifies, “that’s good right, he didn’t see himself hurting us?”

El tilts a hand from side to side, “he did not want to leave the cage. Vecna made him…” she purses her lips, “love. He was in love. They had a baby, she grew up, she was going to college.”

“That makes no sense, he was there less than a week?”

“Time is different in dreams.”

“Yeah,” Dustin chimes in, “even if a dream feels long, it actually happens really fast.”

Steve huffs, “right, but he knows now, right, that it wasn’t real? So it doesn’t matter, right?”

“It matters to him,” El tells him so firmly Steve feels like he fucked up, “it was real to him.”

“Steve,” Nancy turns to him, “imagine if you got married, had...I don’t know, six kids and a Winnebago,” Steve winces because, yeah, okay, he might have deserved that, “and you come home after years and years of living that, being happy, only to find out it wasn’t real, how would you feel?”

“It’d be like they died,” Robin says next to him, suddenly gasping and making a pained noise, “oh that’s horrible. Poor Eddie.”

El’s nodding, and everyone else is silent, clearly letting that sink in.

And, yeah, Steve figures...that’s got to be pretty awful.

The kids have gone home, but Nancy, Rob, Jon and Argyle have all stayed. They promised the kids they would watch over Eddie, which wasn’t hard since Eddie’s been asleep pretty much since they got back. Steve doesn’t know if is the most of a bottle of vodka Eddie had downed, or the week he’s had but...he’s still asleep.

They take it in turns to check on him, every half an hour, someone comes up. Just to check.

Steve doesn’t know what woke him, but he needs to piss. Robins passed out next to him, snoring her wheezy little snore. Steve gets up and goes to the bathroom, figures he should check on Eddie.

And Steve finds himself suddenly very awake at the sight of an empty bed and an open window.

They split up, heading for likely places. Nancy, Argyle and Jon pile into Jon’s car, heading for Wayne first and then with a vague plan to work through town on the way back if he’s not there.

Steve and Robin strike out in the opposite direction.

“Lets head for the place the kids found him.”

“You think he would have gone back there?”

Robin shrugs, “why did he go there in the first place?”

“You think it means something to him?” A horrible feeling starting to form in the pit of Steve’s stomach, even as Robin shrugs ‘maybe’ at him.

They can’t see Eddie, but Robin insists they check it out. Steve’s glad Robin has half their brain, because she was dead right. There’s smashed glass on the porch and the door is open; someone has broken in.

Part Three

@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 3

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 2627 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazons' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

'You are five miles from the estimated target, Master Dick,' Alfred said over the intercom of the Bat Wing.

Immediately upon entering Wayne Manor, Dick had rushed to his childhood room - the one he still used on the occasion he worked with Bruce as the Dynamic Duo, or he needed some space from his duties as Bludhaven's hero - and packed a small duffle of clothes and weapons and ran straight for the Bat Cave. As promised, Alfred had the Bat Wing waiting, ready for take off, and Dick barely greeted the old man before leaving Gotham far behind.

Dick had been flying for almost twelve hours and hadn't slept a wink. Sitting at the control panel with only a wide window of open sea to look at, Dick rubbed his tired eyes as the shadows of sleep flickered in the corners of his vision. He had to stay awake, just a little bit longer at least.

And then... Well, he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

'Is there anything else you need from me, Master Dick?' Alfred asked.

Dick shook his head initially, then remembered Alfred couldn't see him. 'No, thank you, Alfred,' Dick replied, sitting up straighter in his seat. 'I should be fine from here on out.'

It was quiet for a moment, and Dick thought Alfred had signed off accidentally. But then he spoke. 'Are you sure there is something out here? I know you and your friends' findings seem well-supported, but there is only open ocean. There isn't even an under water volcano or ancient mountain range recorded there.'

'Which makes it an even more suspicious place,' Dick countered. 'Trust me Alfred, there is something out here.'

'Let's just hope Miss Y/N is too, or you'll have wasted Master Bruce's fuel. And I will tell you now, he will not be pleased about that.'

The mention of her name caused Dick's heart rate to increase with anxiety. But he quickly recovered as he scoffed. 'I don't know why he's complaining,' Dick said nonchalantly. 'He's the billionaire of the family, after all.'

'Have you seen the price of fuel these days?'

That caused Dick to chuckle slightly, just imagining the singular raised eyebrow Alfred used to ask the silent question of Are you serious? In that moment, he was once again grateful for Alfred. He barely asked any questions as to why Dick needed the Bat Wing, he just trusted Dick that it was for a good reason. Unlike Bruce, where trust needed to be hard earned, Alfred had always given his trust and love unconditionally.

The Bat Wing suddenly jerked as it seemed to hit something. Or, maybe, something hit it.

'Master Dick, what was that?" Alfred asked, worry lacing his words.

Suddenly alert, Dick brought up the different cameras hidden in the ship to try and find what had cause the sudden shift, but sound nothing.

'I'm not sure, Alfred,' Dick answered, running diagnostics over the ship in case of damage. 'There seems to be no damage to the Bat Wing, and there is nothing on the radar indicating another ship or flying creature of sorts.'

The ship rocked again, and Dick gripped tighter to the control handles as he took the ship off autopilot. 'What in the world!'

'Master Di-,' Alfred said, but his words were glitchy and some parts were coming through slowly. 'A-re yo- all rig-' Alfred was cut off before he could finish.

'Alfred? Alfred,' Dick called, but he got no reply. He slammed the control handles in frustration. 'Damnit.' He was on his own now.

However, his annoyance dissipated at the site he'd only ever seen in books he'd borrowed from Y/N when they were children.

To say Themyscira stood atop a mountain would be an inaccurate description. It was more like Themyscira was the mountain, with a long staircase weaving and winding up the entire mountain from the ivory beach and cerulean waters at the base of it. There were small stone huts with woven roofs closer to the beach, but quickly evolved into larger houses and buildings of impressive white columns and marble. As Dick flew closer to the island, he spotted a large coliseum used for sports and physical trials like the ruins in Greece, and a small amphitheatre next door that no doubt was used for the arts.

Atop Themyscira's mountain could only be the royal palace, held up by intricately carved statues of women and marble columns, decorated in plates of gold and held together by green grape vines that covered the palace walls, the statues, the columns.

The bed time stories he'd heard from Wonder Woman when he and Y/N would have sleepovers was more than his imagination could ever conceptualise, and the few descriptions and drawings of the island in the books he'd read were amateur attempts that held no candle to the real deal.

It was, in a word, paradise.

I must've hit the invisible barrier before, Dick deduced as he took in the sight of it all. That's why communications were knocked. That's why he'd felt so anxious and tired the closer he got. Now that he'd passed through, he felt ten times better.

A beeping pulled Dick out his trance, drawing his attention to the radar. Something was coming at him. Fast.

Dick looked up in time to see a large fire ball flying at him and barely dodged it. It was so hot Dick felt its heat through the window as it scraped by.

'Woah!' Dick cried, angling the Bat Wing so Dick could see where the fireball had come from. And, more importantly, who had thrown it. Down on the ivory beach was a line of catapults set up Dick hadn't spotted before, and he could just make out an army milling about around each catapult as they reloaded the catapults.

Before he knew it, he was swerving as another fireball flew at him, this time catching part of the left wing and melting it. Sirens blared, indicating the damage, but Dick didn't have time to worry about that. The Amazons thought he was a threat. He needed to change that, or he'd be a goner.

Crazy an idea as it was, Dick manoeuvred through the line of fireballs the Amazons catapulted at him towards the beach. Once he was close enough, he turned on the speaker so the outside world could hear him. 'Please, Amazons of Themyscira, I mean you no harm,' Dick announced to them, hoping he sounded genuine. 'I am going to land my aircraft on your shore. I just want to ta-'

He didn't have time as a small boulder connected with the left wing, sending the Bat Wing into a spin that Dick couldn't control. Sirens blared in the cockpit, reds light flashed and his front window lit up with the message SYSTEM FAILURE in bright red letters. The steering was shot, his vision was impaired, so Dick just closed his eyes and braced for impact.

The Bat Wing hit the beach hard, knocking the wind out of Dick for a moment. Once he'd regained his breath and the world had stopped spinning, Dick checked his immediate surroundings. He was in one piece still, and the Bat Wing hadn't exploded. Good start.

Before he could unplug himself, a spearhead stabbed through the glass of the front window, shattering it completely as the Amazon wielding it pulled it out. Dick was temporarily blinded by the sudden invasion of sunlight to his senses, but he still put his hands up in surrender in case they still thought him a threat.

'Please,' he begged through laboured breaths. 'Please, I don't mean you any harm. I just need to talk with someone you might know. Please.'

'Síko órthios, pareísaktes,' a strong voice hissed above him, her words whipping out like a delicate snake. She yanked him from his seat, breaking the seatbelt as she did, and threw him onto white, hot sand.

Vision coming back ever so slowly, Dick saw more figures approaching where he laid on the beach, spears and swords and shields in hand. All women, and all wearing brown leather skirts, sandals, and breast plates and bronze helmets of the ancient greeks. A small crowd formed around him, leaving no room for escape.

Realising this, Dick hauled himself to his feet and spun around to survey the group with his hands raised. The women ranged from youthful to mature, but all of them looked capable of killing him should he dare run. Capable, and willing.

'Poios eísai esý?' a woman with long brunette hair asked. She looked slightly older than him, perhaps mid to late 20s. But knowing how old Wonder Woman had lived for already, Dick was almost sure all of the women surrounding him were much older than they appeared.

I really regret not taking those Greek classes with Y/N now, he thought to himself, not having a clue what the woman had asked him. When he didn't reply though, she repeated her question but with more annoyance and aggression, pointing her spear towards his chest.

'I am Dick Grayson,' he said, not sure if they could understand him or not. 'I mean you no harm. Please, I must talk with someone you know... Do you understand me?'

The blank faces he received in return were answer enough. The brunette turned to two other women beside her, whispering to one another. It only lasted a moment, for then the brunette raised her spear higher towards Dick's throat. The rest of the women also raised their weapons, all pointed at him.

'Ánthropos apó to exoterikó,' she announced for all to hear, her delivery final and true, 'edó tha petháneis!'

Just as she raised her spear, Dick threw his hands up again and cried, 'Y/N!'

He waited for pain, for the sensation of falling and then nothing, but it never came. The brunette paused, spear still raised above her, and looked at him curiously.

'Pós gnorízeis tin prinkípissá mas?' she asked, and to Dick's surprise, he recognised one word. Prinkipissá. Princess.

'Yes,' he said, seizing potentially his only chance at surviving. 'She would be your princess. Sorry, your prinkipissá. Daughter of your champion, Diana.'

At the mention of the mighty Wonder Women, the brunette lowered her weapon entirely and turned to the other women as quiet murmurs broke out amongst the group. Dick wasn't sure what he'd started, but he knew they knew of who he spoke of, and what power her name held. Not just anybody could wield her name.

'I came here to speak with Prinkipissá Y/N,' Dick continued, and then he put his hands together as if he were about to pray. 'Please, can you lead me to her? Is she even here?'

The brunette and her two friends looked him up and down for a moment before consulting one another one last time. After what felt like an eternity, the brunette stepped forward and looked him dead in the eyes.

'Piáste ton!' she cried, and two women grabbed both his arms, ensuring he couldn't escape. 'Tha ton páme stin prinkípissá mas.'

She then turned away, and Dick was lead by the arms after her and the rest of the crowd. He managed look over his shoulder to see the wreckage of the Bat Wing. The left wing was one metal sheet away from tearing off completely, and the shattered glass and the many dents in the side of the ship just added to Dick's dismay. Oh yeah, Bruce is going to be pissed.

If the Amazons let him live and he ever got off the island, Bruce would definitely make sure Dick suffered long and hard.

Dick was lead up hundreds and hundreds of steps, walking through the bustling city of women and young girls all going about their daily lives. For some reason, it was off putting to Dick to see women and children doing the washing or playing games in the open street. He wasn't sure why, but he envisioned the whole island as warrior women who all fought and died for each other and their home.

They could probably still whoop my ass, he thought as he was marched by some children who were previously playing a game with some dice and a ceramic cup before he came along and stole their attention. It came to Dick's mind that these young girls probably had never seen a male before, and so he smiled at them as kindly as he could. Some of the children smiled back, others had their mothers nearby collect them and take them inside. Dick couldn't blame them for it. Wouldn't he do the same for his child if the roles were reversed.

Why the hell am I thinking about children right now? he asked himself, but he didn't have time to ponder the question as they quickly walked up a final set of stairs into an open field of green covered in warrior women training. When the whole group stopped, Dick was brought to such a startling halt that he thought his arms were going to pop out of their sockets. Thank God for that, he thought, feeling his legs ache with all the climbing. Or is it Zeus I should thank? Maybe Hera? Athena?

The brunette raised her spear, and those not holding Dick prisoner did the same. 'Prinkipissá,' she called out above the din of all the sparring and training. 'Échoume kápoion gia esás.'

Dick wasn't sure who the brunette was talking to at first, but then his gaze settled on a group of women just ahead of them. It seemed it was a six-versus-one situation, as six women surrounded one young woman with familiar H/C hair. The six women ran at the young woman in the middle, all taking swings with their fists and swords, aiming for her head and legs and mid section. While the young woman took a few punches, she didn't flinch with pain. She would just grab her attacker's wrist and flip her over and slam her into the ground.

The fight only lasted a minute, and ended with the H/C haired pointing a sword at her final opponent's throat as she pressed her to the ground with her foot.

When she flipped her hair as she turned to face their group, only then did Dick fully realise who it was.

'Y/N!' he cried out, the brightest smile spreading across his face. Two years since he'd last seen her, his best friend. After the not-so-very-warm welcome, he was beyond relieved to see a familiar face.

But instead of reciprocating his smile with the one he'd always admired since they were children, Y/N paled as if she had seen a ghost. Her whole body seemed to freeze up as her eyes connected with Dick's, and for a moment Dick feared he had mistaken some poor girl for his best friend.

But her shock melted away, and Dick was met with angry eyes and a stony face. Oh, yeah. That's Y/N. He couldn't recall the amount of times he'd seen that expression before, but there was no mistaking it.

His fear turned towards himself as she suddenly, with sword still in hand, stormed towards him, ignoring the other women around her still training.

'Y/N, it's me Dick,' he said, just in case she hadn't recognised him, but still she came at him, raising the sword to her side. 'Wait, what are you doing?

As she stood a step from him, she changed her grip on the sword's hilt and swung the butt of it at his head.

'Hey! Don't-'

The last thing he saw were Y/N's angry eyes of E/C before pain exploded from his right temple and darkness overcame him.

~~~

Síko órthios, pareísaktes = On your feet, outsider

Poios eísai esý? = Who are you?

Ánthropos apó to exoterikó, edó tha petháneis! = Man from the outside, you will die here!

Pós gnorízeis tin prinkípissá mas? = How do you know our princess?

Piáste ton! = Grab him!

Tha ton páme stin prinkípissá mas = We shall take him to our princess

Échoume kápoion gia esás = We have someone for you

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

Tag List:

@valiantbouquetcloud | @epicy0n | @tyrannosaurexrex1300 | @lunaizhere | @nameunknownsthings | @tqrgvryen | @pariahsparadise | @edgycatx | @b4tm4nn

[pinkhoodi]

and the results are !

✎ᝰ — bat boys finding out their partner is pregnant

♡⃕ — dick grayson & jason todd x black!reader

♡⃕ — genre + warnings: fluff + mention of past sex but nothing in detail ! dick + jason are both worry warts, mention of children

꒰ DICK GRAYSON ꒱

Ꮺ the evening was quiet and chilly from the late autumn season. you were wrapped up in a blanket, watching tv, while dick was cooking dinner for the both of you. minimal sounds were heard throughout the house, besides the tv, but your groans interrupted them

Ꮺ the past few weeks haven’t been easy on both of you, dick has been busy working with bruce and you’ve been throwing up for the past few weeks. at first, you believed that you had caught the flu so you just bought some medicine and treated it how you usually would, with some herbal tea and soft food. though that didn’t cure much and you continued feeling unwell

Ꮺ as weeks passed, you’ve been throwing up more often than not. dick was growing fearful that you caught a virus and suggested that you went to the doctor, you scoffed at that idea and reassured him that you’ll be fine. but after some time of back and forth, you sided with the doctors

Ꮺ the doctor did ask the usual questions, “are you active?” “do you take any birth control pills or contraceptives?” “are you pregnant?”. however, you mind started wandering the answer to those questions, which were yes to most of them. while you and dick were active, you both didn’t do it often since you both had to work around the clock

Ꮺ the doctor suggested a pregnancy test after hearing your symptoms and answer to the questions. you did take it just to be sure and the doctor told you that she’d be in contact for the results

Ꮺ present day, the house is filled with the sizzling sounds of dick in the kitchen and dialogue heard from the tv. you were groaning and moving anxiously on the couch as you waited for the results. the level of anxiety has been filling the air since the last visit but both of you try to hide it for the sake of the other

Ꮺ dick comes over to the couch to take a quick break from cooking and kisses your forehead as he sees your worried look. he laughs a little and positions you to lay on his lap, your head laid on his thighs as he looks down at you and kisses your forehead again. your muscles slowly ease from the intimacy and you finally down as dick gives you shoulder and back rubs

Ꮺ out of the blue, your phone rings from under you, and you shift around to grab it. the number appearing on the screen is familiar and you answer immediately, your voice is shaky as you speak. the doctor introduces herself and tells you the purpose of the call, but you already knew and was anticipating this phone call

Ꮺ the doctor tells you that you have no indication of any illness but does tell you the bombing news that you have a positive pregnancy test. dick can already tell the results from how your pupils dilate and your facial expressions makes you seem brighter than before. in his head, there are only two thoughts, “I’m going to be a father!” and “I’m going to be a father?”. though the same thought, both had different emotions behind it. one was filled with excitement and joy about this new addition for you and y/n and the other was filled with worry, concern, and fear for the newborn. but dick covers the fearful thought with joy instead

Ꮺ after the phone call, dick pulls you into a deep comforting hug and celebrates that he’s going to be a father. he peppers kisses all around your face as the both of you are smiling at each other. the both of you filled with endless amounts of bliss after learning that you’re soon-to-be parents

Ꮺ dick is already throwing compliments, telling you that you’ll be the best mother to your child, you’ll look so beautiful pregnant, you’ll look so beautiful as mom, the child will be as gorgeous and graceful as their mother. he’s filling your head with peace as he continues to shower you with compliments

Ꮺ instantly, dick is already in dad mode and pulling up the target website to start shopping for his unborn child. you laugh and continue to carry on the conversation, feeling the complete opposite of how you felt earlier this evening

Ꮺ dick grayson and y/n grayson, soon-to-be parents and determined to be one of the best parents in this world <3

꒰ JASON TODD ꒱

Ꮺ in the middle of a movie night, jason looks to see you drifting asleep. the movie wasn’t boring, you were very tired from work and your body hadn’t been feeling the best. you were throwing up everywhere and your body ached more than it usually did

Ꮺ at the second you closed your eyes, the uneasy feeling of throwing up came up again. your face twisted into an uncomfortable look and you groaned while rubbing your stomach. you got up and ran to the bathroom before you threw up all over the couch, or even jason himself

Ꮺ jason asks if you’re okay and you reassure him that you are. he doesn’t believe you and tells you that he’s going to a nearby store to pick up some items for you. one of which is a pregnancy test but he kept that to himself

Ꮺ for the past few times you’ve been throwing up and complaining about your body, jason did research on what illness you could possibly have. but all that came up were life-threatening illnesses, a virus, and signs of pregnancy

Ꮺ pregnancy raised curiosity out of jason, since you both were very active and rarely used protection. he started doing the math on the last time you both had done it and the date your body started feeling unwell. let’s just say, the potential of being a father clouded his mind indefinitely

Ꮺ once jason came back from the store, he placed the items on the kitchen counter. he grabs the four pregnancy tests and hands them to you, you raise an eyebrow at him and he explains how he believes that you’re pregnant. you on the other hand don’t believe it but decide to take it anyway since you felt too weak to argue

Ꮺ you go into the bathroom and lock the door, your mind is racing with fear and anxiety as you take each test. as amazing as it would be to be a mother, you were worried for jason would be as a father and begging that the child doesn’t end up on the same path as jason. even though batman took him in and raised him somewhat well, you wanted better, you wanted more for your child

Ꮺ as time passes, you go in and out of sleep waiting for the results until jason wakes you up by knocking on the bathroom door. he’s asking you if the results have come in yet and you groan at the question, reminding you of the reason why you were even in the bathroom. you unlock the door and you step out to let him see the results first since you were too nervous

Ꮺ it was quiet for the first few minutes, you sat on the carpet of your living room while you waited. you were concerned, actually growing worry that you’ll be hit with bad news. but instead you were hit with a hug and a sniff?

Ꮺ was jason crying? why yes, yes he was. he felt joyful, happy, excited, yet overwhelmed and fearful. but mostly excited by the news!

Ꮺ he let go of you from the hug and showed all four pregnancy test showing positive. you were hit in a state of shock and immediately hugged jason back, crying into his shoulder as he cradled you. the both just were in amazement that you’re going to be parents. you’re going bring a new soul and raise a human being together

Ꮺ worry did start to grow in the both of you, and you both felt it in each other, but jason leveled it by kissing your forehead. he reassured you that both of you will be amazing parents and your child will love you more than you two love each other (quite impossible if I may add but hey)

Ꮺ for the rest of the night, you both continued the baby talk and playfully went back and forth on what the gender will be. you simply don’t care but jason is one hundred percent sure he’s gonna be a girl dad <3

♡⃕ hope you guys enjoyed my first post :) feedback is accepted !

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: acts 20:24

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗂. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 17

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Honestly, not many warnings here. Mostly fluff and some sexy flirting and blood drinking/talk of biting. Summary: On the night of the Samhain ball, your long-anticipated return home is marked with tears, hugs, and a very important announcement. Notes: Next week's epilogue will be the official end of this story, my darlings, and I am so grateful for every single one of you who has come along for the ride!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16

"Miss Allison, I promise you that everything is under control." Mrs. Taylor has watched Allison work her very hardest to finish the plans on the Samhain ball, and she has done wonderfully. Far more wonderfully than Allison herself would ever take credit for. Now, though, it is up to Mrs. Taylor and the rest of the staff to get the buffet tables and innumerable chairs set. "Please go and get dressed. We will take care of everything from here. It is going to be a wonderful night."

“Are you sure?” She bites her lip and wracks her brain, running through the mental checklist that has been swirling through her mind and double then tripled several times.

"This is not, as you like to say, my first rodeo." The elder vampire chuckles at the expression and motions toward the stairs. "There is plenty of time. Take a shower or even a bath. Relax yourself. Get dressed. It is time to enjoy your night."

“Do you think we ordered enough blood and donors?” She asks worriedly. Vampires from all over are descending on the estate and some do not drink from blood bags, so concessions had to be made.

“Mr. Finchley counted through the bags this morning and Renee is meeting each of the donors as they arrive.” Mostly students from the neighboring college, the set of a dozen voluntary donors for the night have signed contracts for financial compensation that they are permitted to back out of at any time if they should decide — and they will also be provided with enormous care packages made by the Taylors regardless of how long they stay or how many guests partake of their blood. Mrs. Taylor has baked and cooked enough in advance for each of them to essentially have a week’s worth of free food and Mr. Taylor went through enormous trouble to find them all manner of health and self-care items as well as other goodies. “Mr. Taylor had offered to speak to everyone but Renee thought the young ladies who signed up might be less intimidated if she was the one to greet them.”

“That would be best. I can also meet with them. Explain how it is for a human.” She offers with a slight blush. Last night she and Eddie had indulged in that particular activity after the conversation they had and she loved it.

Mrs. Taylor smiles at Allison’s blush, not calling attention to it but certainly noting the happiness in the young woman. Things appear to be going quite well. “I’m sure they would be comforted to hear from you.”

“Then I will meet with them when they are ready.” Allison decides with a smile. “Please have someone inform me when that is?”

“They have been asked to arrive by nine o’clock tonight.” The mantle clock beside them reads just after seven, meaning there truly is plenty of time. “The Master is taking it upon himself to greet any trick or treaters we might have tonight, so do not feel you need to rush in readying yourself.”

“He loves children, doesn’t he?” Allison asks, tilting her head and smiling at the thought of the elder vampire greeting kids and cooing over their costumes.

“He does.” Mrs. Taylor nods. The same expression of soft admiration paints both their features and the housekeeper clasps her hands a moment later. “Would you like a tea tray for your room? Or any help getting ready?”

“Some tea would be lovely.” She admits before she thinks about something else. “Is— has Dolly’s room been prepared for her return?” She asks softly, as if asking about it might jinx things.

An enigmatic smile from Mrs. Taylor is not the reassurance she is looking for, but the vampiric housekeeper has plenty of her own secrets as well. “All is prepared for. Truly, there is nothing for you to worry about. You should try to enjoy yourself tonight, miss.”

“Were you nervous when you were human?” Allison asks in wonder. “Or have you always been so self-assured?”

“Oh goodness no.” That actually illicits a small laugh from her and Mrs. Taylor shakes her head. “It took a good century or so to find my calm, dear girl. Before that I was as nervous as a spring bride in the morning. I simply learned to…what is your phrase? Fake it ‘til I make it. Eventually it just sank in.”

“Good to know.” She’s more assured than some, but this is her first big event and she feels like she needs to prove herself worthy to Eddie’s sire.

“Everything will be just as you wished it to be.” Mrs. Taylor promises. “Now go on. I will bring your tea up myself.”

“Thank you.” Allison flashes her a grateful smile before turning around and doing as she says.

The artfully made Alice in Wonderland and Mad Hatter costumes that Eddie found for them are hanging in his closet and Eddie himself is sitting on the bed with a copy of the party itinerary in his lap when she walks in. "Hey baby." Almost instantly, he's at her side with his arms around her. "Did Mrs. Taylor banish you from the ballroom to get ready?"

“She did.” Allison huffs out a laugh and shakes her head. “I was told that she has it completely under control. But I want this to be perfect.”

“It will be.” He squeezes her tight and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “If I suggest we take a shower will that actually relax you a little? Everything is going to be great, baby.”

“It depends.” Allison admits with a grin. “Will you…feed off me again?” She asks quietly, amazed at how much of a rush of endorphins it can be.

Eddie’s chuckle is deep, tinged with equal parts amusement and desire. “I will. Because I can smell how badly you want me to.”

Biting her lip, she grins and bats her eyelashes at him. “You don’t seem to mind it.” She reminds him, finding it intoxicating when it fires him up. He loses control for a split second when he starts to drink.

With his hands on her hips, Eddie whirls Allison around and starts walking her toward the shower with urgency. “Alright. Let’s go. Very important shower to take.”

Her laugh is one of delight and she’s ecstatic that one day, she won’t have to secretly worry about growing old and leaving Eddie. She’ll be right there with him. “Baby?” He hums and she giggles. “Can we still do this once I’m changed?”

“Shower together?” He huffs at her playfully because he knows that isn’t what she meant. “I mean we can, but vampires don’t sweat so we don’t need to wash as much.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes before she turns around to start undressing. “You know what I meant.”

“We can,” he stresses the second word and tugs off his t-shirt. “But the thing that’s weird about it is that if you drink my blood and I’m the one who turned you…it doesn’t quite taste right. It’s like an evolutionary red flag, or something like that. To prevent vampires from consuming their kin. So if you want to keep doing this, and you want it to taste good and give adrenaline and all that? I would recommend that we ask someone else to change you.”

“Would you mind?” She asks quietly. Changing a person into a vampire is also quite intimate and she doesn’t want to upset him.

“I would prefer you chose someone you know well, if it isn’t going to be me.” He can understand her choice is entirely her own, but to make another vampire is a deeply intimate and meaningful relationship. It’s why so many refer to those they have sired as their children.

“I was thinking about asking your sire.” Allison admits. “Since he approves of me.”

“Hmmm.” Eddie kisses her cheek this time, pretending to consider something he already knows is a good idea. “Are you sure you want Max for a big brother?” He teases.

She snorts and shrugs. “He will be either way.” She admits, knowing that Eddie will always be around Max. Plus she kind of likes the other vampire for his treatment of you.

“I guess that’s true.” Eddie grins, though, and helps Allison out of her last few items of clothes after turning on the hot water for them. “To be honest, I thought you might pick Mrs. Taylor, but I have no doubt if we ask him about it later, he will say yes.”

“I hope to have more of a sisterly relationship with Mrs. Taylor.” Allison admits. “Although if your sire thinks it’s a good idea, I would be fine with that.”

“I doubt dear old dad will object to siring you. But be prepared for him to make a very big deal about it.” Eddie rolls his eyes fondly. “Dramatic son of a bitch.”

“You’re dramatic in your own way.” She teases, sliding her hands up his cool chest and grinning at him.

“I’ve been well trained, I guess.” He huffs, but pulls her into the shower with him. “I’m glad you seem to like it.”

“Oh I do.” She promises, standing on her tip toes to kiss him. “I absolutely do.”

******

"This place looks incredible!" Tracy squeals, throwing her arms around Allison almost the second she's inside the house. "Holy shit, holy shit everything is amazing. And what is that smell? Are you burning incense in the house or something?"

“The food.” There’s probably some incense burning as well, but all the human food is fragrant. “You look incredible!”

"Oh, this old thing?" Tracy giggles as she twirls around in her Clueless costume and poses like a model. She and Candance and one of the other women from the coven decided to come as Cher, Tai, and Dionne tonight. "As if, right?"

“No, you look amazing, I don’t think there will be a pair of eyes that don’t stop on you and admire.” Allison gushes, grinning at the other woman. “And you’ll be dancing all night.”

"I can't believe how good the house looks and how good you look!" She jumps forward to squeeze Allison tightly again. "Everything is perfect."

“Yes it is.” Since the shower and getting dressed, she’s calmed down. It’s too late to change anything and what will be, will be. She’s left it in Mrs. Taylor’s capable hands.

Tracy bites her lip as Candace comes up beside her. “Any sign of…?”

Allison sighs, chewing on her lip worriedly and glancing around. “Not yet. But knowing Max, he will make it as dramatic as possible and arrive at midnight like some reverse pumpkin fable.” She snorts, hiding her own nerves behind the facade of humor.

“Oh god, you’re right,” Candace snorts. She reaches to hug Allison tightly and shakes her head in some sort of fond exasperation. “And he’ll have figured out how to cue Phantom of the Opera entrance music or something.”

“That would actually have been a wonderful idea!” Allison gasps. “Next year. Next year’s theme is decided.”

“All of Broadway, or specifically Phantom?” Tracy giggles at the idea, already on board.

“Phantom.” Allison knows you would love the idea. “We could honestly have a Broadway themed ball every year.”

“Different time periods, different Broadway shows, different literary influences…” Candace sighs dreamily. “My vote is for a Jane Austen ball.”

“Ohhhh that would be wonderful.” Allison sighs as well, enchanted by the idea. “It would be a very proper ball.”

“What would be?” Eddie, who had been at the front door making sure the signs for parking and entry were clear enough and in the right places, now comes up behind his girlfriend and slips one arm around her waist.

“Hi.” She beams at Eddie and sighs at the idea of him in a Regency era suit. “A Jane Austen ball.”

“Ooo, you would love that.” He coos softly and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Mr. Finchley is out front to help with parking and direct people who haven’t been here before. The first cars were pulling in when I came inside. I thought you ladies would like to know.”

“Oh, it’s time.” Allison panics for a split second but Eddie’s hand on her waist steadies her. “Then I guess you and I should stand in and greet the guests.”

“And we will man the donation table.” Tracy grabs Candace’s hand. One of the main points of the night is still to collect for charity, and every party goer is supposed to be bringing in a canned or boxed food item for the local food bank. Between the food drive and proceeds from ticket sales going to nearest women’s shelter, the night should end up being a rousing success on all fronts as long as everyone has a good time.

“Thank you.” Allison throws them grateful smiles, happy that she has such a good coven to help her.

“Come on, love,” Eddie encourages her. There is a broad, proud smile on his face and he kisses her other cheek this time. “We have guests to greet.”

“Yes we do.” In your absence, Allison wants to be the best hostess so the reputation of the party grows. This could be a success for years to come.

The first half hour or so of arrivals is a trickle. Coven members, the teachers and students from the dance studio that you and Max had gone to. Some of the museum docents from the local preservation society have arrived as a group in full costume. A few folks from the charities benefiting from tonight’s collections also arrive in their festive Halloween costumes, and a smattering of students from the nearby college as well. It’s over an hour into the night when a sleek, black sports car with tinted windows that Allison doesn’t recognize, pulls up under the porte-cochere and Mr. Taylor looks particularly amused — or even smug? — when he opens the door.

“Allison!” Though you haven’t aged a day to the naked eye, the way you hold yourself is different now. Over a hundred years changes a person, and the trauma that had once governed all of your actions has melted away to be left far in the past. But a straighter spine and surer shoulders are not what matters now. Not as you haul yourself out of the car in the beautifully elaborate gown that you wore to the first Samhain ball you ever attended — the one thrown by your abuela in 1885 when you decided to stay in the past. You and Max had thought it was a symbolic choice to wear the same clothes tonight.

Eddie’s eyes widen when Max pops out of the driver’s side and zips around to immediately take your hand, smirking slightly at the surprise and delight of the people gathered who recognize them. “I told you we haven’t missed the dancing.” He muses to you as he guides you towards the receiving party. “Edward, you look magnificent and that is saying something considering the gorgeous creature next to you.”

“What in the hell?” Eddie’s eyes widen at the deeply obvious change in Max’s demeanor and he can’t help a deep, amused laugh at how giddily you and Allison are greeting each other as he steps forward to either shake Max’s hand or give the bastard a hug. He can’t really figure out which. “Well, goddamn. You—you really did stay, didn’t you?”

Max takes the other vampire’s hand in a firm shake and drags him forward for a hug. “We couldn’t leave.” He admits shamelessly. “That time, the people, it was exactly what we both needed.” He pulls back and grins at Eddie. “But it’s damn good to see you. We missed you both.”

“We missed you, too.” As nervous as they were, and as worried as they were, it’s extremely obvious that whatever had happened, it was a positive decision. “But where the hell did you come from? And how did you leave in the first place? And when were you? We have so many questions.”

“We’ll explain it all.” Max promises. “Dolly has a lot of information to share with the coven. Including Mrs. Astor’s grimoire.”

“I’ve missed you so much.” You cling to Allison happily, drowning in your long-missed friend’s affection, before pulling back to look at her. “You look so happy, honey. That’s so good, and I’m so, so glad to see it.”

Max smirks slightly, sending Eddie a knowing look. “Eddie, you finally made your move.” He hums in approval. “Good, relationship bliss looks good on you both.”

“Come inside,” Eddie insists, practically dragging Max with him and Allison wraps her arm around yours to do the same. “We want to hear everything.”

“Of course you do.” Max is teasing, but if the situations were reversed, he would be hounding Eddie for the details. “First, how long have we been gone? Dates have kind of blurred.”

“About three weeks.” Allison tells him, still clinging to your hand. She’s still reassuring herself that you’re both real. “How long has it been for you guys, though?”

He glances at you and grins before he looks back at Allison and Eddie. “You tell them.” You urge with an indulgent smile since Max has been so excited about this.

“Only a few years.” Max insists. “One hundred and one.”

“So…you went to 1922?” Allison asks, confused because that doesn’t seem to track with what they found in their research.

“Not quite,” you admit, knowing the whole situation probably seems very complicated. “We went to 1885, and came back from 1986. A few weeks before Max was set to be born. You really don’t want to hop around in your own lifetime if you can manage it.”

“So you can move around through time?” Eddie asks, mouth hanging open as every one of his theories is being explained.

“It was by accident the first time.” The admission is a little sheepish, but you look very proud just a second later. “I’m actually quite good at it now.”

“What happened?” Allison demands. “We were thinking something happened to you when your grandfather told us.”

“Unfortunately for him, my ex decided to surprise us on our date.” It’s been a century and the hurt is gone. Not even a sting remains. Derek is no more than a blip in your past and there are now very long stretches of entire decades where you even forget he ever existed. “I tried to keep him away from us with a protection spell but my spellbinding made it go haywire, and instead of protecting Max and myself from Derek, I protected all three of us from that moment in time. It sent us back to the exact same moment, but in 1885.”

“I knew you had to be spellbound!” Allison gasps. “How did you— did you see your mother?” She asks.

"My mother has been my closest friend for a hundred years." It was difficult, moving in and out of each other's lives at times, but with both of you being functionally immortal for that time you both understood that sometimes there was no choice but to be apart. "She even called me the day she met my dad." It was a phone call you had been waiting for, unfortunately. Knowing what would ensue in the coming years, you and Max had taken it as a cue to get out of the country for the remainder of your time in your own past.

“I’m so glad you got more time with her.” Allison glances at Eddie nervously, aware that your grandfather’s announcement tonight might devastate you.

"Then why do you look as though you had lost my favourite sweater?" You reach for her with both hands and squeeze her shoulders gently. "What's wrong, Ali? The place looks amazing, you look happy, and we're finally home again. It should be a night to celebrate."

“It is.” She promises, shaking off the feeling and sending you a smile. “Your grandfather will be happy to see you.” She promises.

"He should be expecting us." Out of anyone in literally all of time, your grandfather has always been the one person most informed about when and where you will be, your plans, and anything else you could conceivably need. He's been a wonderful father figure to Max and a doting grandfather to you, as well as an invaluable resource.

“He is.” Allison assures you. “In fact, he was the one to tell us you would be back tonight.” She admits with a rueful grin. “Guess we shouldn’t have doubted him.”

"He's the last person we spoke to before we left 1986," you admit, but you also shrug. After hanging up with your grandfather, you'd definitely spent the next few hours enjoying a nice dinner and fucking all over your empty house. Max's absurd '80s power suits had ended up to be just a little bit of a turn on for you. You're just not quite sure how that happened.

Max smirks, reaching up and caressing the back of your neck as you are obviously thinking about the same thing he is. “That was a lucky year.” He teases softly.

"Very lucky." Your own smirk meets his and for one happy moment you forget anyone else exists, just sharing an amused glance with your soulmate. It may be more than a hundred years later, but you still fall a little more in love with him every day.

He arches a brow and licks his lips. “No one would miss us for a few minutes, would they?” He asks, even though he knows he can’t sneak you away for a quickie.

Allison snorts in amusement, shaking her head at Max seemingly not changing at all in his core, despite the changes in his manners on the surface. "It's your house, guys," she reminds you both.

“No.” Max shakes his head and smiles at your friend. “My wife has waited way too long to see you again to sneak her off.” He admits with a chuckle. “And I’ve been told if I mess up her hair before our first dance, there’s hell to pay.”

"It'll be Gladys Vanderbilt's debutante ball all over again," you tease. The fond roll of your eyes is nothing but love after so many years together. "Although..." Looking up at him, you flash him a sly smile. Hearing him call you his wife still hasn't gotten old. "It's been what...fifty years now, since the last time we had a wedding? We might be due for another one."

“You’re married.” Eddie is the one who practically squeals it. He has known Max to be staunchly against being tied down, but that was before you. “How many times have you gotten married?”

"Um..." The look you and Max share is vague confusion, as between the two of you, you try to count out the different weddings you have celebrated over the decades. "1885...1923...1946...1967...and the last one was 1980. So five times. And I guess that's not quite fifty years ago. More than forty, though."

“Oh my god.” Allison whispers, glancing between you and Max in amazement. “Five weddings? Max you are just….” She shakes her head and throws her arms around him while looking over her shoulder at Eddie. “You have a standard now.”

“Sorry Eddie,” you tease, enjoying the easy lightness of being with your friends again. The urge to just continuously hug them and not let go is very real. “Although it is fun. And parties these days are so much more casual than they once were. That makes it a bit easier. Or at least less forbidding to plan.”

“I want to experience that.” Eddie admits, reaching out taking Allison’s hand. “We have decided that Allison will become immortal soon.” He announces after she gives him a soft smile of encouragement.

“Oh, honey!” Your eyes flit between both of them before you bundle them both up in a hug with a beaming smile. “There is so much life to live. You’re going to love it.”

“I can’t take Eddie’s blood like you can with Max.” Allison doesn’t mind that, not really. All that matters is that Eddie wants her. “And Eddie doesn’t want to…outlive me.”

“I think it’s an oversight on the universe’s part that you aren’t soulmates.” The connection they have is so strong and their love so sure, you would have just assumed it if you hadn’t been around when they started dating. “It’s wonderful to hear that you’ll be able to be together.” Glancing over your shoulder, you smile at your own partner. Your other half throughout all of history. “Forever is quite fun, I have to admit.”

“You don’t look a day older.” Allison smirks as she takes in the changes you have brought back from the past. Self-assurance looks amazing and you seemingly glow. No longer the scared woman she had met in a farmer’s market, you are almost intimidating, and your entire aura radiates powerful magic.

“That’s a combination of Max’s blood and Audrey Hepburn’s face cream.” You smirk conspiratorially. “I’ll guard that potion with my life, since you won’t be needing it once you’ve been changed.”

“Interesting.” Her brow wings up at the mention of the famous actress, realizing you must have met her at some point. “Hepburn was a witch?”

“Particularly good with charms and potions. And she was fun. You never hear about her being fun, but she was great.” Beside you, Max has one arm around your waist and he hums proudly. “Max was a movie producer after the Second World War.”

“Really?!” The squeal is loud and enthusiastic and all heads snap towards the group. “Oh— that’s— I can’t believe we didn’t find you.”

“We were using different names at that point.” It had been essential to learn how to craft and re-craft new identities. Luckily, your grandparents had been fountains of information. “And Max only produced, so it’s not as though we were in anything.”

“Still.” She shakes her head and giggles. “The stories you can tell. What else have you two done?”

"I'll tell you everything starting tonight," you promise her, as the four of you step deeper into the house. It's good to be back at Chateau-sur-Mer again. To you and Max it has been just a few years since the last time you were here, but that's long enough to miss it. "But tomorrow you should come over to our house for dinner."

“Your house?” Her eyes widen and Allison frowns in confusion. “Dolly— th-this is your home. Cookie willed it to you, remember?”

"I know." And it is good to be back, but you rub Allison's arm affectionately. "But to avoid complications with my family through history...Max and I built another house here in Newport."

“When?” “Where?” Allison and Eddie ask at the same time with identical sounds of bewilderment.

They've reached a place where they have the same voice sometimes and it makes you smile softly. "You know that little gothic house on the beach that has basically been abandoned for the last couple of decades but somehow never decays? Seacliff Castle?" Beside you, Max smiles proudly. "It was finished in 1888. Max and Yayo designed it with the architect who built this place."

“You are kidding me!” Allison’s screech can raise the dead and she looks like a kid who was just told she was going to Disney and getting a puppy. “I have always wanted to tour that house, but no one knows who owns it. But it was you all along?”

"Come over tomorrow and we'll show you the whole place," you promise her, giggling happily at the absolute glee in her reaction. "But tonight? I want to see what you've done with the ball. I know it's going to be amazing."

“I have been so nervous.” She admits quietly. “But I think we have everything. Including donors for those who don’t eat bagged blood.”

“Mrs. Taylor and Yayo would never let you have anything less than a perfect night.”

“Do I hear my name being taken in vain?” From a nearby dark corner, your grandfather emerges into the low, atmospheric lighting of the great hall.

Max chuckles as he hears his sire’s voice. “Always.” He shakes his head. “Dramatic like always,” he jokes, having told you that your grandfather would make a dramatic entrance.

“I have learned that there are some things which are expected of me,” he jokes pleasantly. “Your journey was not difficult, then?”

“No.” Max reaches out and shakes his sire’s hand warmly and pulls the elder vampire in for a hug. “Cookie did not stake you for keeping our true relationship a secret, I see.” He jokes, even though everyone already knew that.

“She was…not happy.” He clears his throat distinctly remembering that particular fight with his soulmate. Cookie had been furious to find out that her beloved granddaughter and the witch she had been so fond of for a hundred years were one and the same.

“Hopefully she understood eventually why we had to keep it from her, and from Annie.” The contact with your mother had lessened over the years but she had never demanded that they choose sides, something Max had been grateful for – for your sake.

“She did understand.” He is sure of that, considering how very much it had been discussed. “But she regretted not being able to dote on you both as her grandchildren.”

“She did dote on us though.” Max protests and shakes his head. “She treated us like we were family and she loved Dolly like another daughter.”

“She did.” His sire nods, knowing it is the absolute truth. He sighs though, with a theatrical shrug of his shoulders. “But you know Cookie. My darling girl loved titles.”

“She was a special lady.” Max has a fonder appreciation for the older woman, even more so with the knowledge she had known who he was when he first arrived and still had kept her word to her husband to not say anything.

“She was remarkable.” Your grandmother may not have been perfect — in fact she was decidedly less than sometimes — but that was what made her so incredibly special to you. She had never demanded that perfection from you or Max that she tended to expect from Annie. Perhaps it was for the best that she didn’t know how you were at the time? You’ll never quite know.

“Yes, she was.” For a brief second, amongst those he is closest to, your grandfather’s grief shines on his face. Missing the other half of his soul as vividly as the day she had passed in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Yayo.” The only one of the four younger beings whose instinct is to reach out, you bundle your grandfather up in a hug. “I miss her, too. Her and Mom.”

He accepts the hug, squeezing you harder than he would have before you started taking Max’s blood. “Thank you, muñeca.” He hums softly, not missing the way that Eddie and Allison shift slightly. “I will be reunited with them soon.”

“You never know when the people we love can come back to us,” you hum, but the look on your grandfather’s face makes you hesitate. “But…somehow I don’t think you’re talking about that…?”

“Because you are bright.” Yayo praises softly, cupping your cheek and smiling at you mysteriously. “It has always been my plan to join my soulmate in her afterlife.” He admits. “Since she decided to end her mortality. I have only extended my time in this existence to make sure you were well settled, my darling muñeca.”

“Oh…” You don’t cry much anymore, but tears well up behind your eyes instantly. Saying goodbye to the last of your family is not something you had prepared for tonight. “I—but—the family?” He has so many more responsibilities than just your immediate family, you can only imagine that he was preparing for this for a very long time. Or else made a lot of decisions very quickly.

“Is your family now.” He reminds you softly. “Although I have decided to name my successor tonight.” He smiles proudly and hopes that you will not be too upset at him.

“This night is much more important than I thought, then.” Stepping back from him, you settle against Max’s side and try for a smile. Your grandfather is doing what will make him happiest and you have to respect that, even if it is rather a big shock.

“You will understand.” He promises, smiling at the group and then motioning towards the ballroom. “Let the evening begin.”

******

The evening, as Yayo so elegantly termed in, is incredible. With the party starting so late and the buffet being available to guests all night long, it seems that the ebb and flow of partygoers is constant. Music plays, people dance, and the lingering masses of vampires throughout the house are generally met with curiosity from the humans who find them fascinating — though they don’t quite know why. Those who are attending as donors are spoiled immensely and some have been given guest rooms for the night, but for the most part they seem to be an altogether dreamy sort of drunk to the unaware humans present. It is not until Yayo disseminates word to his extended family of brooding immortals to meet in the morning room that any sort of tension cracks the enjoyment of the night.

Max holds your hand, aware that you are upset, and he wishes he had some insight into this talk. As close as he had become to the older vampire, he hadn’t had a clue he was planning on giving up his immortality. “It will be alright.” He assures you softly, squeezing your hand.

“I know.” You squeeze his hand tenderly and lean into his side, long ago having learned how to be close even while wearing large gowns. You just wish you had had more notice. Time to prepare. “He just has to be dramatic as hell about all of this. Calling a family meeting in the middle of a ball? Very Yayo.”

“He likes to make a scene.” Max snorts, lifting a brow when the servers bring around glasses of blood and champagne for the guests. The one who stops in front of you, hands you a specific glass. “It’s white grape juice, madam.”

The barest sniff of sweet juice proves she is telling the truth, and you smile gratefully. Even after a hundred years? Alcohol holds no appeal for you whatsoever. “Thank you,” you acknowledge with a smile. “My husband prefers something a little richer, if you don’t mind.”

“Mr. Phillips.” Another glass is handed to him and he sniffs it politely.

“Hmmmm AB negative.” He smirks. “Someone put some thought into planning this.”

"Allison said she left blood menus to Mrs. Taylor." There is no mistaking that your friend took the responsibility of planning tonight seriously, and divvying tasks out to the appropriate people when delegation benefited the situation.

“Then I will have to thank her.” Max takes and sip and hums in approval. “But later.”

"Has he started yet?" Eddie and Allison slip into the room beside the two of you, already having said hello to the extended vampiric family earlier in the night.

“Not yet.” Max eyes the elder vampire. “I think he was waiting for something.”

"It's always something," you hum, sharing a grin with Allison as the same passing waitress who served you and Max returns to offer Eddie and Allison drinks before exiting the room. When she goes, she shuts the morning room door behind her.

“I would like to thank everyone for traveling to attend tonight.” Yayo’s voice never seems to raise in volume but it booms around all of you clearly. “Not only is this a worthy cause to humans dear to my heart, but it is also a special night for our future.” There is a smattering of polite applause and you lean into Max's side even while Allison does the same with Eddie beside you.

“All the vampires here, I have personally sired.” He reveals with a pleased smirk on his face. Considering there are no fewer than two dozen vampires in the room, a small murmur ripples through the younger of that number. The elder vampires chuckle with the knowledge. “And tonight…” He holds up his own glass of blood. “One of you will replace me as the elder vampire. Leader and mentor to the future.” He announces. “I have decided to join my soulmate in the afterlife.”

The limited, mannered responses are gone in an instant, replaced by an audible gasp and murmured exclamation as the members of your extended — very extended — family all look around the room to see if anyone knew this announcement was coming. Eyes fall on you more than anyone else, wondering if your grandfather will take his biological family into account in this decision.

“I know that a lot of people have wondered who would take my place. And at one point in time, I had imagined my grandson-in-law, Max Phillips, to lead our pack.” He turns his head and acknowledges him with a smile. “However, there is another that I have in mind, since Max will be busy with juggling a new role.”

New role? You look to Max with confusion, but it's clear from the furrow in his brow that he has no idea what your grandfather is talking about either. If anything, his expression is more akin to crestfallen than anything else. He's fallen short of whatever expectation his sire had of him...

“Years ago, I made a mistake.” Yayo admits to the men and women he considers his children. “My Annie, my daughter with my soulmate; I felt she was destined to leave the coven of witches and her soulmate Emmanuel would be the perfect vampire mate. I ended up losing my daughter and never got to properly apologize for placing so much emphasis on the wrong things.” He pauses for a second. “I want my granddaughter and her husband to focus on the most important role of all. They will be becoming parents.”

Enthusiastic is the word for the applause this time, though the reaction from you and Max — the people being announced — is pure shock. "H—how?" How could he possibly know that? Especially before you do?

Your grandfather chuckles, seeing the confusion and bewilderment on your face. “Your smell, my dear muñeca.” He explains with an enigmatic smile. “I have had the pleasure of smelling a vampiric pregnancy before. That is why your soulmate had not been aware either. There is a sweeter note to your blood.”

Honestly, you might be more embarrassed about having it announced in front of so many people if you weren't so flabbergasted by the news. With your jaw practically on the ground and your eyes watering, your free hand goes to your stomach while your other squeezes Max's so tightly you would be afraid of hurting him if he weren't a vampire. You're so shocked that you didn't even notice Allison take the glass from your hand or the proud uncle expression on Eddie's face.

“I want my family to focus on being there, being the best parents they can be.” He admits selfishly with a small shrug. “Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?” He jokes. “Max however, will be vital to the next leader. His own wisdom far greater than my own, and I feel that he will make Edward Perez the best leader vampires have ever had.”

Eddie's gasp is even more audible than your own when he hears his sire say his name. For that matter, it's been almost ten years since he used his mortal surname, and hearing it spoken so proudly is a kind of gratification that he can't quite express. While it's true that his sire — the entire room's sire — had given him more than ample guidance over the decades, Eddie hadn't ever considered himself anything too special. Not until he had started giving him more responsibilities in the last few years. Not until Allison had come along with her staunch and unyielding belief in him. Now it seems like all of that is coming to a head, and he steps forward hesitantly to stand up beside his sire.

“Eddie has been the best vampire that I could have imagined.” Yayo admits. “And Max— he has held a special place in my heart from the very beginning. I know that with Eddie in charge and Max advising him, our numbers will grow and your bonds strengthen.”

If there is any doubt or dissention from the other vampires of the clan, not a word of it is spoken in their sire's presence. Instead Eddie accepts a few nods and a whistle or two from his extended family and looks back at Allison to flash her a smile before putting his hand out to his sire. "I will do everything I possibly can to live up to this responsibility, and the faith that you've placed in me."

Max smiles, still a little shocked that he had not known you were pregnant. Leaning close and inhaling your scent to recognize the sweet, floral undertones to your blood for what it is. He had just imagined it was because modern food was processed with more sugar than in the past.

“I can’t be that far along, can I?” You whisper to him under the commotion of vampires now moving forward to shake Eddie’s hand or meet Allison for the first time. Many of them had not bothered to meet the younger vampire’s partner earlier in the night but they are making the effort now. “I mean…” you look up at your soulmate with disbelieving tears in your eyes, beaming an enormous smile at him. “I haven’t even missed my period yet.”

“No.” Max can’t help but lean closer to smell you again, addicted to the idea that you are carrying his child. If his own tears are concealed by your neck, that’s just a coincidence. “Your smell hasn’t been sweeter for long. Only a few days.”

“It’s sweeter?” Somehow that is just about the cutest thing you’ve ever heard — that pregnancy can and does make your scent sweeter instead of anything else — and the water behind your eyes presses at them again.

“It is.” Max hums softly, smiling at the newfound knowledge. Committing this smell to memory. “We will have to make sure you stay healthy, my love.”

"It's a damn good thing that I mined abuela for information about carrying a half-vampire baby while I still had the chance." The hand you have on your stomach curls in, conscious of the corset under your dress but knowing that there isn't anything but a tiny little bundle of cells in there right now. "Holy shit...pregnant..."

“I can’t believe it.” It’s not like you’ve been trying but you also have gone over one hundred years without protection. Max had quietly assumed children weren’t to be and had never mentioned it so he wouldn’t worry you. The relief that he can give you a child is one that would make him cry, and he will later on when it’s sunk in.

"I just sort of assumed..." you murmur, leaning into his side and burying your face at his shoulder. In this room you can be quiet as a whisper and everyone will still hear you, but they have enough respect to pretend otherwise. "After so long...I figured it was just...not in the cards."

“It just wasn’t our time yet.” He murmurs softly, smiling at the thought that you are carrying his little baby biter. “Do you want some of my blood or should we find a vintage you like for when the baby demands more than you normally take?”

"Abuela said she ended up drinking a glass of blood at almost every meal in her second trimester." Of course the word trimester hadn't been used in that conversation, but you had made copious detailed notes for yourself after any conversation in which vampire pregnancy or children rearing was mentioned. "I guess I'm going to have to figure out how to drink it when it isn't from you. Maybe mixed with hot cocoa? Or even decaf coffee."

He chuckles. “Actually, you might like it in tomato juice.” He suggests. “Keep you from thinking about it too much.”

"That's not a bad idea." The hand you have in his tightens reflexively, keeping him close and savoring these first few moments of realization. "We'll try a little bit of everything. It's going to be a very interesting nine months, considering I'm only the second woman in the world to carry a vampire's baby."

“I mean technically….” Max grins. “You’re a quarter vampire yourself. A little more than that every night.” He winks at you salaciously.

A momentary snort of amusement breaks a little bit of the bubble of worry that was starting to form in your mind, and you nudge him with your shoulder. "A hundred years later and you can still never resist joking about that."

“Babe, if I ever stop joking about that, you just go ahead to push that stake through my heart.” He jokes, knowing that you would never think about something like that.

"It'll never happen," you laugh, knowing as well as he does that some things will just never change.

“I know.” He bites his lip and grins at you. “So we haven’t had a wedding in this time.” He ventures. “What do you think about a shotgun wedding?”

"Oo, we've never had one of those before." An elopement, a grand party, a trip to City Hall, a backyard barbecue, and a small town bash — all of those you've done. But a shotgun wedding would be a new one for the two of you. "I think it's perfect."

“Now…we have to find out who’s holding the shotguns.” He jokes, pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours. “Do you want to wait until the belly is huge or before?”

"We may not get a chance to have me showing off a baby bump in a wedding dress ever again. I think we have to take advantage of it." He can obviously feel the way your heartbeat has risen, smell the way your adrenaline is singing, but that tender bump of his heart when he kisses you makes it all a perfect symphony.

“Completely agree.” Max nods seriously. “The wedding should be themed. Obviously.”

"Baby themed or cowboy themed?" You ask, laughing but slightly afraid to hear the answer.

“Oh no.” He snorts and sends you a grin. “Hillbilly, shot gun wedding.” He tells you, enjoying the idea immensely even if you would never agree.

Both of you snort, knowing it isn't the kind of thing that you'll ever do, but that joking about it is it's own kind of fun. "Water guns as favours for every guest and a Beverly Hillbillies impersonator to marry us?"

He chuckles and nods. “Something like that.” He jokes before he looks at you seriously. “I do want us to be married officially before the baby is born. In our true timeline.”

"I have no problem with that." Somehow you have a feeling this will be the wedding that matters most to him, whereas the one nearest and dearest to your heart was the one in 1885 where you were surrounded by your family and new friends. Setting both hands on his chest, you lean in to kiss him again and smile softly. "We'll make this one perfect for you, love."

Max knows that after one hundred years of family with your mother and grandparents, he should not have familial hang ups, but he does. “I don’t care about perfect.” He promises. “I just want to do right by you and our child.” He admits. “To be everything my father said I would never be. A good husband, a good father. A good man.”

"Those are the things you are, Max." It never hurts to remind him once in a while. You know that. But you also know that sometimes he has to prove it to himself more than anyone else. "And I'm very proud to be your soulmate."

“I never want that to change.” The Max of before might not have said that in front of a room full of vampires, but he doesn’t care. If they know nothing else about Max Phillips, they should know that he is devoted to his soulmate.

It takes a little while for the hubbub to calm down, but when it does, Eddie squeezes his arm gently around Allison's shoulder on one side of him and looks to his sire and shakes his head in near disbelief. "This is...it's a surprise. I have to admit."

“You don’t think you deserve it?” Max asks, clapping his vampiric brother on the shoulder and even though he’s disappointed for himself, he’s proud for Eddie. He understands why Yayo didn’t name him as the next head of the clan. He would be too distracted by your pregnancy and Eddie is levelheaded where Max is not.

"We're the two youngest, and you're soulmates with his granddaughter," Eddie reminds Max, turning to clap his brother on the shoulder. "You can't blame me for expecting the choice to go in another direction."

“Nah, you deserve it.” Max tells him honestly. “You’re the better vampire and you know it.” He smirks. “Now we just need to get you to act like it.”

"Good thing you're home, then." He laughs, grinning even as he shakes Max's hand with a force that would break a mortal's bones. "We'll catch up with you in a second," he intones, glancing back at you and Allison hugging a few feet away. "I need to talk to our Father about something."

“Of course.” Max flashes him a grin and a wink. “I’m going to go flirt with my wife and your girlfriend.” He teases before moving back to your side protectively.

"Actually..." Allison slips away from your side to take Eddie's outstretched hand. "I'm...part of this conversation. But when we get back out there, I'm stealing you for a dance. Okay, twinkle toes?"

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise furiously but he nods and wraps his hand around your waist. “Hope you’re ready to glide around the floor. I’ve had over one hundred years of practice with Dolly.”

"That's exactly why I'm stealing you," she teases, giving you both a small wave before turning back into Eddie's side to broach the topic of her own siring with the vampire who just stepped down as head of his long-lived clan.

“I wonder if everything is alright.” Max frowns slightly as he looks at the retreating pair and then back at you. “How are you doing, my love?” He asks, cupping your cheek.

"Wonderfully." The glass of grape juice is still sitting nearby and you pick it up, wanting the small comfort of a drink in hand. "In fact, I think when we go home in the morning, we should celebrate."

“How should we celebrate?” Max asks with a grin, even though he’s got some idea.

"Hmmm..." you tease, pretending to think very hard about it even though you already know the answer. "I was thinking...by the same way that we made the little nugget in the first place."

“You mean you want to have sex on the balcony overlooking the ocean and waving to the boats as they pass by?” Max grins as he licks his lips.

"I'm so glad we decided to have a house by the water," you groan softly, humming at the memory of just a few days ago — it was still 1986 but you were back at Seacliff, getting ready to travel back to your own true timeline. "Excellent idea. Extremely good."

“I know.” He grins at you. The house has been a lovely refuge for the two of you. It had given you the separation you needed from mother and grandmother so you didn’t spill the secret.

"So Eddie's head of the vampiric family, huh?" Wrapping your hand around Max's arm, the two of you drift back toward the ballroom at a leisurely pace. "And you'll be his right-hand. That's a hell of a lot of responsibility while we're growing our own family."

“I think that’s why your grandfather didn’t want me to take over.” Max admits. “Although, don’t tell Eddie I said this, he’s a better fit for the job.”

"You're a good pair." You admit that you had balked a little at the time, but when Max had wanted to go check on Eddie's human parents in the few years before he was born, the late 70s and early 80s had actually ended up being a blast. Eddie's little hometown in Northern California was comfortable and fun, and you’d lived a very basic suburban life for a few years. Max had barely stifled tears the day your neighbors had brought little newborn Eddie home from the hospital.

“We’ll see.” Max doesn’t argue but his hand slides down to your stomach proudly. “I’ll honestly be more focused on you and the little biter.” He has already filed the paperwork to ‘inherit’ the money he has made over the past generations. Restraining himself and not taking advantage of his insider knowledge too badly.

“That’s what you’re going with calling the baby, huh?” You raise an eyebrow at him but still end up smiling. You’ve wanted this for so long, it almost doesn’t matter what he calls them.

“I can call them a little pup.” He teases, his chest puffed out proudly. “That’s what baby bats are called.”

“That’s actually kind of cute.” The smile on your face widens again and your hand rests over his on your stomach. “Which is appropriate, since you’ve always been my Cutie.”

His shy grin is always something that makes him look younger and despite the years, he still is bashful about the way he had become a bat to spend more time with you. “Need to find a bat mobile for the crib.” He jokes, “or I’ll just change and flap around to entertain them.”

“It will end up being both.” At the edge of the ballroom, you beam at him proudly and hold out your other hand. “First dance as expectant parents?”

“Always.” Max takes your hand and kisses the back of it. You had mentioned how much you loved the gesture when you had first watched Titanic when you were younger and while back in the 1800s it was extremely appropriate. Now he knows that two hundred years from now, he will still kiss the back of your hand to watch the burst of delight in your eyes. “Waltz with me. Today and every day, my love.”

______

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[enam3l]

in my worlds, robin's parents are chill crunchy stoners

inspired by this!! by @steveshairychest we don't have enough robin lore. we need more.

So often children are the antithesis of their parents and no more so than in the case of the Buckleys. Two hippies who fell in love at a protest on their college campus, both black sheep in their middle class families. Now they're older, married and have a daughter but never grew out of the bohemian lifestyle. They one day got lost on the way back from Woodstock, finding themselves in Hawkins. Taken by the scenic forests and amused at its small town charm, they relocate with baby Robin.

An abandoned plot of land is cultivated into a haven of produce. Thus Buckley's Roots n Fruits is born, an organic, holistic grocery store. It raises the eyebrows of Karen Wheeler and her yummy mummy crew. Yet appreciated by the likes of Wayne Munson and Joyce Byers, the Buckley's being generous and offering freebies on old produce and accepting IOUs. Eddie never lets on he doesn't know Robin as the trumpet girl, but as the daughter of his best clients. Any community complaints fall on Hopper's deaf ears, in his eyes they take of people in need and let him in on a herbal hangover secret.

But to Robin, she is everything they are not. She's sick with nerves over exams whilst they tell her they're proud no matter what. She panics about the cost of college despite them telling her they'll always find a way. She threatens to call the CDC convinced she has Dengue fever but they choose to soothe her with folk songs and a herbal home brew. To them, Robin is an anomaly but they adore her for it anyway. They could never wish for her to change, only for her to stop letting anxieties dictate her life.

Then Robin bonds with Steve, drawn in by his mothering. She admires his grumpy moods and desire for control because he's everything she's wanted in her life. The best thing is, Steve is a constant because like his own, her parents can come and go. Gallivanting on strange retreats and experiences all across the country. But Steve always tries to explain, that unlike his, her parents care. She always knows exactly where they are, how to contact them and is left with enough food or money for the duration.

Steve loves her parents, his heart full when they call him an honorary Buckley. Even if their approach to life is strange to him, at least they're full of love. Not once do they bat an eyelid because he's always at their house. Never questions where they're going because they understand best friendship is sacred. They appreciate he cares for Robin in ways she believes they can't. There's always a seat at the table for Steve, a spare bed ready made, a present on his birthday and a little stocking at Christmas.

But there's one important thing that her parents never do. They never ever question Robin's relationship with Steve. No toe curlingly embarrassing moments of them calling him her boyfriend. They hope that telepathically, she'll one day somehow know that they don't care what she does or who she loves, as long as she's happy and a good person. That any secret is safe with them, they'll never shun their baby girl. Plus, they're not blind - they saw how as a young teen, Robin would ogle at their Carly Simon records.

[dairy-farmer]

The caped community finds out Tim is a meta by virtue of ✨something I'm too lazy to think up✨. His power? Tim can choose when he's gonna be pregnant. Like a duck that can prevent unwanted fertilization. It becomes this thing in the caped community (and rogues who somehow found out) where they try to fuck Tim and get him pregnant. The problem isn't fucking Tim. Turns out Tim is quite the slut. The problem is that he doesn't want to get pregnant. It's like a ginormous dick measuring competition that no one can seem to win. And then one day, they find out Tim is pregnant. The baby daddy? Some random civilian Tim met at a bar.

On Tim's part, he would love to get pregnant. He just doesn't want to carry any babies with a meta gene (he does NOT want to know if those babies can develop superpowers inside his womb and he's not eager to try it out) or carry the baby of someone with as many deep-seated mental issues like the bats (he read somewhere that babies can inherit depression and anxiety and have worse issues. His babies are about to get his, he does NOT want to get them double more). It left him with a very, very narrow pool of sperm donors. Good thing sex with these people are great.

-🦆

😍😍😍😍 tim's power being built-in birth control!!!! and tim being very logical and focused on who he wants to father his baby. because tim loves sex, he loves it A LOT despite his more...modest reputation, some might even say prudish.

but just because tim is willing to fuck a whole manner of people doesn't mean he wants them to knock him, despite how often that seems to be a fantasy of the many people he lets fuck him. sex is one thing but a baby? that's something tim does not take lightly.

before tim had been born his mom and dad had a pure bred show dog as a pet. her name had been biscuit and her picture had been higher up on the mantle piece than tim. tim had heard all about her growing up and he'd also heard about how other competitors in the show dog scene had tried striking deals with tim's parents to breed their dogs with biscuit.

"but it's not that simple timmy," his dad would tell him. "you can't just let any stud mount the bitch, otherwise that's how you get bad pups."

bad pups, like pups who didn't like to listen, who had bad temperaments, who inherited dispositions to diseases, and worst of all- pups who were ugly.

it'd been the same reasoning his parents used when they chose a sperm donor to have tim. tim supposed it was that "parent" who he had to blame for his meta abilities of being able to choose who impregnates him. he supposed it made sense they were a sperm donor since if tim had a sort of hyper awareness of his reproductive organs then it was likely they did to. after all, it was how he was able to stop his period without having to go on any medications. it was just a matter of reabsorbing the egg that wanted to descend back into his system.

so that's what tim does. he refuses to present the seas of ejaculate in his womb with a nice little egg to fertilize because he can tell they wouldn't be suitable. tim can 'feel' out the genetic material in him. can tell which sperm contains the right genes to be born a meta human (approximately 75%). can tell which ones will result in phenotypes like blonde hair or brown eyes. he can detect genetic predispositions for disease contained within them.

mental illnesses like depression, anxiety, addiction, and even bad temperaments like anger. diseases like pku, sickle cell, and cancer.

tim isn't perfect either. he has an increased risk of bpd and colon cancer, a higher chance of developing diabetes, a predisposition to vision problems and cavities. that's not even mentioning the actual problems he has.

tim's ptsd, depression, and naturally elevated cortisol levels from being so stressed all the time might have an impact on the fetal brain development.

and even though tim can't control that he can still mitigate the risk.

tim has already carefully selected a handful of eggs from his ovaries with the lowest risk and is carefully watching over them, keeping them safe until he finds a perfect genetic donor father.

which...tim is keeping his hopes realistic. the father likely won't be a cape because even if they don't have inherited issues, their accumulated issues will likely leak into the baby. plus tim doesn't like the idea of his baby having another parent that could just swing by and bother them. no, tim would much rather prefer a stranger, preferably a one night stand who would have no rights or ideas about his baby.

but until that happens tim has a large pool of willing participants to fuck him even if he wouldn't consider using their genetic material. and that's how it is. until tim has a business trip in st. paul minnesota and meets someone at a fancy lounge downtown.

not overly tall but a decent height, a nice musculoskeletal structure, a nice face, not pushy, sweet laugh.

it's after they have sex and are lazily making out in bed that tim realizes he's hit the genetic lottery jackpot.

no history of mental illness, at all. no elevated risks for diabetes, cancer, or a whole host of diseases. tim's genetics have a slight disposition for alcoholism but the donor is a rare drinker and doesn't smoke. no cardiovascular disease issues, low chance of allergy to pharmaceuticals, all blood, skin, eye, muscle, and tissue disorders appear to be low risk, and the only risk for autoimmune disease comes from tim. his donor even has the right genes for his babies to have straight teeth and clear skin through their adolescence unlike tim who had been forced to liberally use zit cream and braces throughout middle school.

yeah tim has hit the jackpot. he's so excited he gets horny again.

the donor is already more than tim ever dreamed of and the genetic material he already has is more than enough for him to get pregnant.

but could tim be blamed for wanting to widen the pool even more and give his baby the best of the best?

tim rides his donor hard and fast, bouncing and trying to thank the father of his future child for this gift with every whip of his hips.

he'll be coming back for more. all of his children will need to be fathered with this person because there's no way tim can let someone with such beautifully perfect genes slip through his fingers (also it helps that the sex is nice).

tim stares down at the gorgeous brown eyes all of his children will have (tim's light blue eyes carry an increased risk of basal and squamous cell carcinoma) as they roll back from the bliss of another orgasm, their balls clenching and cum shooting into tim's more than welcoming womb. tim's cunt clenches around the throbbing length, satisfaction purring in his chest as a fresh load of material for him to parse through fills him.

tim spends the plane ride home carefully choosing out the perfect sperm and gently guiding his egg to it. he carefully makes sure the two fuse perfectly, joining his egg and the material of his lovely donor (who tim has carefully memorized the name and address of for future reference). after all he'll be back in a few years to fuck his brains out for another sweet baby. it's what tim always wanted after all.

tim already knows he's pregnant weeks later but takes a test for his medical records, after all he needs to get started on all the proper vitamins and treatments to make sure his baby is born with the least risk possible. he also needs to inform bruce as quickly as possible so he can be benched. no need for unnecessary stress after all, it would be bad for the baby if tim's levels rose any higher.

news of tim's pregnancy spreads quickly and practically everyone tim has slept with in the last few weeks are stumbling over themselves to try and find out who the father is.

tim supposes he'll let them keep guessing for a few more weeks before their inevitable hovering gets annoying and he shoos them away.

because while tim might have the baby he's wanted for so long, he still needs help satiating his desires. orgasms always help with lowering his stress and the flood of hormones that are to come will, of course, make him too horny to function.

but at least he'll have help with that. afte rall, ever since people found out tim could control whether he got pregnant or not more than a few people showed up on his doorstep, desperate to be able to fuck bare back without any risks.

and tim, well who was he to say no?

[natsuzoku]

TAKING CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU'RE SICK

feat. Bokuto, Kuroo, Mattsukawa and Kageyama

TW: none really, just a sick gn!reader and a lot of fluff

A/N: Repost from my old blog.

BOKUTO really wishes he could take away all that pain, even bear it himself if that meant you’d be okay. He’d ask you often if you’d like to be cuddled because he wants to keep you warm.  

“Mmm, Bo, you don’t have to be so close, love” you whisper, “You’ll fall sick.”

These words were only counterproductive, as you feel his grip on you tighten. “I’m not gonna get sick, and I’m not letting you go, okay?” Bokuto is well aware that he isn’t the best cook, so he gets Akaashi to make you some lovely chicken soup in hopes that you feel better. The boy is extremely paranoid, but he tries to keep his anxiety in control, so as not to worry you. He finds himself reading tons of WikiHow articles on how to nurse a sick loved one because he wants to learn and give you the best care there is out there.

You're the light of his life and he'd do anything to keep you happy and healthy.

KUROO knows you’re sick when he feels your body heat up beside him as you lay sleeping. His efforts to gently rouse you went in vain as you didn’t escape the clutches of your feverish doze. Not batting an eyelid, the man quickly grabs a cloth and some water and spends the rest of the night by your bedside, occasionally replacing the cloth on your forehead as he tries to bring down your temperature. You wake up groggily to find him making breakfast.

“Here you go, I made you something light and healthy. You’re running a fever, so I’ll take the day off to care for you. And don’t forget to eat up the fruits!”

He quickly changes the subject when you ask him if he’s slept well, and digs into breakfast like he just drank a can of Red Bull. Kuroo will go a hundred sleepless nights if he could make sure that you’d rest well.

You don’t care about being sick, and MATTSUKAWA is quite aware of that. So when you sit in front of your laptop that morning, neglecting your raging headache and the rising fever, he decides to draw the line.

“Hey. Look at me”, he tells you softly, but firmly. “Listen, you’re mature enough to know your own body and its limits, but even you will admit that you’re sick.”

“Don’t you pride yourself on your work? If you do work when you’re sick, there’s no way it is going to be as good as the work you do when you’re okay, and no, don’t argue with me on that. So if you want to do substandard work in discomfort, be my guest. Or else, you can relax in bed for a while and wait for your body to get better so you can be yourself again.”

Five minutes later, you find yourself in your bed, waiting for Mattsun to bring you your favourite warm drink as you choose a channel to watch. You might be grumbling at the moment, but you’ll thank him later for getting you to rest, and he knows it.

KAGEYAMA knows you were overworking yourself at a rate where you'd fall sick, but he can’t seem to convince you as you always told him to practice what he preached. He knows how much you’d exert yourself, ignoring all the warning signs your body was giving you because according to you, work is much more important to you than your health. So when you wake up one morning, face visibly flushed with the fever you were running, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

"No, you are not going to work. You're sick, love. You need rest." He stated, simply and firmly, tucking you back in bed albeit your reluctance.

Kageyama is quite clueless on how to take care of you; the poor bean is so nervous that he’d mess things up. He’ll frequently call Hinata to make sure that he was doing all the right things. For once, volleyball isn’t the first thing on his mind, because right now, the only thing that needs his attention is you. He may be awkward about it, but you know he how much he loves you in the way he does the little things.

comments and reblogs highly appreciated!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

How's about follower kallamar with a squid reader that is the head doctor and a former follower of his

On the day of your indoctrination...an ugly plague was currently infesting he entire cult. It definitely wasn't the best first impression.

You saw so many sick followers shuffling around, trying not to throw up (although some failed miserably) as they went about their daily tasks.

Lamb excuses themselves to go yell at the healthy followers who didn't bother cleaning all the puke lying around, before sending the sick to their beds and shoving thermometers in their mouths.

And of course, an elder decides to die right next to the goddamn shrine...resulting in those still hanging around to vomit at the sight.

Once everything's slightly under control, Lamb rushes back to officially welcome you into the cult, but you're not impressed at all.

"You promised me sanctuary, Lamb. But all I see is illness and death here...was I right to trust you?"

"....you can blame your "bishop" for all of this......I promise this is a safe haven."

You give them the benefit of the doubt, considering they did save you from being sacrificed to Kallamar.

But when asked why his followers chose you, you explained that you're actually a doctor who treated a lot of sicknesses back in Anchordeep. Sore throats, stomach bugs, flu, pox, etc. You were seen as sort of a miracle worker.

Unfortunately Kallamar saw your skills as a threat to his power, insisting only he can perform "miracles" and decide who's worthy of healing...and his fanatics were inclined to agree.

Luckily, your new leader allowed you to take on that role once again without fear of persecution, and you got the plague under control practically overnight.

You've implemented a system where every follower got a regular checkup. Even if they looked or felt fine, it's better to be safe than sorry.

When Lamb started bartering with ???, they gifted you a gold immortality necklace to ensure you didn't die of old age (seriously, they needed your medical expertise).

You already had a skull necklace, but were grateful nevertheless.

Ironically, Kallamar became the most troubling patient when he arrived into the cult, getting sick right off the bat just from his spiraling anxiety.

He hid behind a tree upon seeing you.....and Lamb found him, literally having to drag him over to your medbay (now a small building instead of a single shrub hut) and order you to treat him.

Great Ones forbid he caused a plague as both bishop and follower. They weren't going to tolerate that.

Ofc, he was hesitant to say anything to you, but after quietly treating his stomach ache and changing his bandages...he breaks down sobbing on the cot, begging for forgiveness.

"I-I was wrong. You do..s-so much good work. You were thriving, performing all these miracles, and....a-and I tried to take that all away....why heal me?"

"Kallamar, I'm not holding that against you anymore." You reassure him. "You're free of the Blue Crown's influence. I know you didn't really want me dead, did you?"

"..n-no, my...followers suggested it. Cult morale was low a-after what happened to Leshy and Heket so...I had to do something!"

Whether that revelation made you feel better or worse, you find it in your heart to forgive him, never denying him treatment even if others in the cult disagree.

You wanted to help him. One squid healing another.

To this day, he still feels bad visiting your medbay, but with time he becomes more comfortable approaching you whenever he gets sick.

Soon enough you find out one of the primary causes of his stomach pains.

It's cauliflower stew (while there's a 5% chance of sickness for everyone else who consumes it, his is always at 100% for some reason).

As it turns out he, ironically, has a severe cauliflower intolerance.

Poor guy never knew that was a thing.

[elizabethemerald]

A Shade Darker than Red: Part 8

An alarm sounded in the Monitor room of the Watchtower. The Justice League’s hidden space station base had been home to Bruce Wayne since the confrontation between himself and his family. He was begrudgingly giving them the space they demanded, though he knew eventually he would have to return to Gotham no matter their wishes to the contrary. Gotham needed Batman. He was the only thing that stood between the rogues and the common people of the city. 

When the alarm sounded he typed a few keys to cancel the alarm and show the full information on the screen. It wasn’t one of the usual JL alarms. They had monitors all over the planet and beyond sensing everything they could think of and most national and local governments had their own ways of reaching the League in the event of a disaster. Plus they tried to reach out to as many regional heroes as possible so they could call for backup if they needed to. 

Instead of one of those regular ones, it was one of Bruce’s own alarms that would only sound if he was on Monitor duty. He had numerous issues that he alone was monitoring, like his personal rogues and the other JL members in case they went rogue themselves. This alarm came from Arkham Asylum. A break out. In the most restricted section of the Asylum. That could only mean one thing. Joker. 

Bruce stood to his feet and stepped away to take a zeta tube down to Gotham. He clenched his fist in annoyance as a sudden rush of air revealed Superman to be standing in front of him. 

“Clark.” 

“Heading somewhere, Bruce?” Superman gave him a look that Bruce didn’t know how to interpret. Probably condescending. 

“Alarm in Arkham. If the Joker’s breaking out, I’m needed in the city.” Bruce went to step around Clark and was even more annoyed when Clark stepped with him, effortlessly keeping himself between him and the door. 

“The League doesn’t involve itself in cities with local heroes unless they specifically ask for help.” Clark said. “You wrote that rule yourself. It was one of the first rules you put in there.” 

If Bruce had less control over his facial expressions he would have sneered. Of course he had put in that rule, he didn’t want any of the League messing things up in his city. 

“Gotham is my city.” He kept the snarl out of his voice with difficulty. 

“It stopped being your city when you broke your own rule.” Clark said plainly. 

“Gotham needs Batman.” Bruce stepped forward into Clark’s space, his hand drifting down towards his utility belt, the motion covered by his cape. Except another rush of air passed by him and his hand came up empty when he reached for his kryptonite. 

“Let’s keep this conversation civil, shall we?” Flash said from the entrance to the Monitor room, Bruce’s utility belt in his hand. “I’ll go put this in lock up for now.” 

A blink and he was gone, less than a second later and he was back, empty handed now. 

“How did you-?”

“Disarm your traps?” Bruce stepped back from Clark at Wonder Woman’s words. He was now edged in by three of the most powerful members of the League and they had already removed his tools from him. Diana gave him a smug look. “It would seem an email was sent to certain members of the League with how to bypass your precautions in the event that you began acting out against any of us.” 

“They sent the whole League-?”

“Nope! Just us.” Flash now had popcorn in his hand. He couldn’t tell if Barry was eating out of anxiety or because he was feeling smug at having the upper hand over the Bat. Probably smug. “Honestly I’m a little upset about your contingency plans for if I go rogue. That’s kind of rude, Bruce.” 

Bruce ignored that, instead focusing on what that meant. He had kept those files secured so no one could ever find them. And he had modified the design for his belt’s defenses since leaving Gotham. 

“How did they find that information?”

“I don’t know what to tell you Bruce. You personally trained two of the best hackers on the planet. Maybe your cyber security just doesn't match them. And it’s not like you’ve given them a lot of reasons to trust you.”

He didn’t need to be lectured by them. A mad man was attempting to break out of the asylum again and he needed to be there to head him off and send him right back. He moved to step around Clark again and this time was met by Diana. 

“I’m needed in Gotham.” He glared at all three of them. 

“If the heroes of Gotham ask for our aid, we’ll respond. But if they don’t ask, we don’t interfere. That’s our rules. That’s your rule. Or are you about to go back on another of your rules?” Diana asked him, her eyebrow raised. When he just stood there and fumed for a few moments she continued. “If I need to I will personally ensure you cannot leave the station, or the medical wing until after this crisis is resolved. Is that what you would like me to do?” 

Bruce glared at them, but returned to his seat at the Monitor control. He needed to be healthy enough to fight Joker when he needed to. None of his proteges had his knowledge and experience with dealing with Joker. Eventually they would call for his help and he had to be ready. 

.

Danny and Jason steadily made their way through Arkham towards the maximum security ward. Danny set off the occasional alarm, sometimes even sticking his arm through the wall to set off a hidden sensor that wasn’t sensitive enough to his presence. Jason watched him curiously as he floated next to him. 

“Why are you doing that?” 

“Hmm? Oh!” Danny looked confused where he was currently elbow deep in the wall fiddling with the wires until another alarm suddenly sounded. “If we went in full ghost style, got to the Joker and got back out without leaving a trace, eventually someone would assume something supernatural, and one of the Justice League’s magic users would get involved. If we got in and out without a trace other than the alarms and cameras getting disabled the assumption would be an extremely skilled assassin, which would make people paranoid. Now they’ll just think a regular run of the mill assassin came through. Skilled, but not extraordinary. A mystery not a threat.” 

“That makes a lot of sense. You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this.” 

“Yeah. Jazz getting our parents put away was great in a tonne of ways. We were finally able to actually be ourselves without worry and I will never complain about the removal of the Anti-Ecto Acts. But it brought us all into the spotlight. And ghosts don’t really belong under the spotlight anymore than they belong under a microscope. So Jazz and I, along with my advisors, put together some briefings on how to normalize the paranormal.” 

“Interesting. I guess as king you have to put a lot of thought into this sort of thing.” 

“Yeah. It’s for the best for everyone if ghosts faded out of people’s minds. I’m sure you can imagine the chaos and carnage some of these folks could come up with a little ghostly firepower.” 

Danny gestured to the sleeping inmates around them. A little ghostly favor from Nocturn and all the inmates in Arkham would be sleeping just long enough for them to get in and get out. They were passing into the maximum security ward only a few more cells until they came to Joker’s cell. Danny stopped with his arm out, forcing Jason to stop as well. 

“You’re sure this is what you want?” 

“He’s hurt enough fucking people. It isn’t even just about avenging my death anymore.” Jason had never been more sure of anything in his life or afterlife. 

Danny nodded and marched forward. The pair of them could already hear the mad ramblings of Joker, the only person in Arkham who was still awake. Danny allowed his full royal regalia to cover his body, blackened armor, ice crown and cloak of stars sparkling onto his body like ice forming on a still lake. When he’s facing the bars in front of Joker’s cell, Danny doesn’t phase through, instead letting his body melt around the bars like a Terminator. 

“Oh, what’s this? Visitors for Uncle Joker? Well welcome to my humble home.” 

“Silence Worm.” Danny ordered and Joker’s mouth snapped shut against his will. Danny held his hand out to the side and a burning green crowbar appeared in his hand. “I am coming seeking vengeance for one of the numerous deaths you caused. Your end will be swift and painful.”

Joker struggled for a moment before he was able to open his mouth again. 

“And which death are you avenging? There’s been so many, I can’t keep count!” 

“The death at your hands of Jason Peter Todd-Wayne. Formerly Robin.” 

Joker’s eyes gleamed as he looked over Danny’s shoulder to make eye contact with Jason’s ghost. The mad man began cackling with glee before Danny silenced him with a blow to the face with the crow bar. However Joker came back up and cackled again. 

“Oh the little bird’s wings were clipped! Too bad I didn’t get the chance to clip them again, I-”

Danny’s eyes blazed with a green light as he brought the crowbar down again. And again. And again. Unlike Joker who had enjoyed Jason’s torture, Danny was methodical. Almost calm as he carried out Jason’s chosen vengeance against one of the worst serial killers in existence. Jason thought he would feel joy, that he would revel in Joker’s pain. But he didn’t. All he felt was a soul deep satisfaction as his death, and all the deaths at Joker’s hands were avenged. 

.

Dick suited up as Nightwing as Cass quickly dressed into Black Bat. An alarm in Arkham was never a good thing and the two of them raced towards the island. The rest of the family spread out around the city to make sure they could find any traces of an escapee quickly. This was the most unified the family had been since Jason’s funeral. They were trying their best to keep together, but the strain of managing Gotham’s crime without Batman was starting to wear on them all. If they didn’t come up with a permanent solution soon either their family would fracture and fall to in fighting or one of them would have to ask Bruce to come back. Neither option was good in Dick’s mind. 

The two of them pulled up outside the prison, hopping out of the Batmobile and heading to the office of the head of security. Surprisingly there was a still living person in the office, though he was watching the monitors and only gave them the barest look before returning his attention to the monitors. 

“Where’s the Bat?” 

“Not here. What are we looking at? Who’s breaking out?” 

“Nooone.” The guard growled, pointing at a map of Arkham where they could see the trigger points for the alarm systems that were going off. “Someone is breaking in. And heading right towards maximum security. I’ve pulled back my men so none of them get killed.” 

“We’ll head in and try and head off the attempt.” Dick said and nodded to Cass who immediately fell in behind him. He didn’t let it show, though he was sure Cass could tell, but he was nervous. Maximum security meant some heavy hitters. Including the Joker. The last thing he wanted was for that psycho to get out and have his way with the city. 

.

Danny rolled his shoulders and let his head fall back in relief. He flicked his wrist and the crowbar vanished into the air. Joker was dead. His beating had been thorough. Behind him he could hear shaking breaths from Jason as the other ghost mourned his own death. Vengeance was always different for living than it was for the dead. The stories the living told always liked to insist that vengeance didn’t help, but for the dead it provided a different kind of catharsis. 

“D-Danny? Why aren’t we leaving?” Jason asked, his voice a little uneven. 

“Just one moment.” Danny kept his focus on Joker’s corpse until he felt something shift. 

He reached out and a massive, clawed shadow shrieked out from his arm to snatch something that glowed dimly with a green light like some enormous, eldritch bird of prey. He snarled at the soul held tight by his powers. 

“Joker, as the High King of the Infinite Realms, for crimes against a citizen of the Realms, I sentence your soul to Oblivion. May your name fade from all memory.” 

Danny closed his fist. The shadowy claw that held the soul closed as well shattering the remnant into nothing. He dismissed the Kingly power with a wave of his hand then left the cell. Jason followed just a little behind him, still overwhelmed with the emotions he was feeling. He still managed to ask the question that was on his mind though. 

“What was that about?” 

“In theory, he deserved his eternity in a hell of some kind. But could you honestly say that he would actually suffer? Ancients, he only stopped laughing now when I crushed his windpipe. And for a soul as rotten as his there was too much risk of him coming back somehow. I wasn’t going to risk him becoming a ghost or making a deal.”

“Good. May his name fade from all memory.” Jason recited grimly. 

The two of them were making their way back out of the maximum security ward as quickly as they could while they talked, Danny again making sure to trip alarms on their way out. Jason suddenly came to a stop outside one of the cells. Danny stopped with him and looked in at the young blonde woman asleep on her cot. 

“Can you wake her up?” Jason asked. 

Danny nodded and snapped his fingers and the woman immediately shook herself awake as if coming out of a quick nap. She rubbed her eyes then bounded towards the bars with a bright smile on her face. 

“Hood? What are you doing in here? I heard you died again!” Harley said, her normally bubbly voice hiding a lot of grief and worry. 

“Yeah, I died again. But my friend here just finished avenging me.” Jason looked at her seriously. “Your ex is gone. He’ll never bother you again.” 

Her smile had dimmed at Jason’s first words, but brightened again, turning slightly manic as she grinned. 

“Good. That asshole hurt me real bad, being locked in here with him is a special kind of hell. Next time I get out, me and Red are gonna get out of town and go on a vacation to celebrate.” 

Danny stepped forward and said, with far more formality than Jason usually heard from him. “I hope you feel your suffering at his hands is avenged as well. He will never harm another.” 

“Thanks kid, I do feel better. Now you two gotta get outta here! If the alarms are going off it won’t be too long for the bats to show up.”

They both nodded and ran, the prisoners around them waking up as Nocturne loosened his hold. Danny reached out and grabbed Jason’s shoulder making them both invisible just as the door in front of them opened from the other side. Jason felt his core clench with longing as he saw Nightwing and Black Bat, posed and ready for combat. The two ghosts flew over their heads and out into the city proper. 

“You know what, Danny?” Jason asked once they were hovering in the air over Gotham. “I think I might like to try and talk with my family soon. I miss them.” 

“Sure thing Jayce.” Danny said though he looked a little distracted as he looked out over the city at something Jason couldn’t see. The two of them portalled away from Gotham and into the Infinite Realms, Jason’s first death successfully avenged.

[ay0nha]

Relief in Destruction | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: Joel let you explore for a moment. He was begrudgingly curious to know what your touch felt like outside of the unintentional contact when handing you a note or striking his hand. He knew what he should be doing, how he should— would have reacted with anyone else. 

PAIRING: (Boston era) Joel Miller x f!reader (radio worker)

WORD COUNT: 3K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, not much, mentions of alcohol, mutual pining, teaching reader to punch (sort of), angsty, cheesy lines picked up from watching criminal minds lol,  etc. 

A/N:  I’ve been staring at this for too long and started losing the plot lol, so that it doesn’t sit in the drafts without sunlight, here it is! If this is similar to something else you’ve read by me (that’s I may or may not have deleted) not its not...Thanks for my cousin for comparing my reader to radio rebel 😭😭 and to @from-the-clouds​ for constantly listening to my rambling and lack of coherency 💕💕 Enjoy!

The city was dark. The rain tapping inconsistently against the window panes created a prism of light entering the room. You appreciated the rainy nights; they meant work would be slow.

People thought sending coded messages would have more privacy under the guise of the night, as if daylight would curse the carried transmission. There was some truth to that, but the difference was minimal, with FEDRA cracking down as hard as they wanted.

The rain was what people didn’t consider. It was responsible for static, missed communication. Your nightmares lacked fuel those nights; you didn’t have to listen and notate the plot of raiders or slavers. There was no frustrated line pressuring you for a response you had no connection with. It was quiet. Calm.

But you heard the floorboards creak under unknown weight. You were attuned with the family that housed you; their steps were never as cautious. A gun was in the drawer, there just in case. You weren’t convinced it had ammunition as it was nothing more than a paperweight.

Regardless, you held it up as your only form of self-defense.

“Fuck, Joel.”

Air flooded your lungs in relief and recognition. The man entered without care, not even batting an eye at your shallow threat. Joel was coarse, his presence there only out of necessity.

“I need to get somethin’ out.”

“Messages only go out in the morning.” You puffed out the remaining anxiety. “You know that.” There were rules, and you knew he tended to break most. “I don’t play favorites.”

“Tonight you are.” He pulled the map from his pocket. His finger traced a red line just north of the city.

“Bill and Frank?” You threw the gun back in the drawer. The heft made a chill run up your spine at the sudden noise. The idea of being caught with a smuggler, let alone Joel, threatened your plan. “They can handle themselves.”

Joel was obviously agitated, likely due to the blood still fresh on his knuckles. It felt like a threat of its own. He was stubbornly secretive, despite your efforts to pry. But he could hide only so much when you played the middleman.

Joel was a deliberate man, always having a response, but he was struggling with the creeping feeling of desperation. He was trying to find control and only offered a hardened look, jaw moving with thought.

“You thinking of killing me?” Your sarcasm responded to his silence.“C’mon, make it worthwhile…” Joel handled resistance with brute force, but you only looked to sweeten the deal. “...strawberries are coming into season.”

“Fine.” He was reluctant but agreed.

Yet, you couldn’t help but instigate. “Throw in some ration cards.”

“Stop fuckin’ around.” Joel’s frustration had come to a boiling point. “It’s about Tess.”

“Shit, Joel…” You hadn’t meant to make light of the situation, but your tone couldn’t help but carry humor. “Why didn’t you start with that?”

You weren’t always privy to their business, but you noted the uneasiness when either went without the other. Maybe you romanticized their lives or just had a general lack of understanding of the risks involved in smuggling. There was a creative aspect to your work, fantasies of the various messages that created worlds outside your own to exist in, even if only transient.

It helped at times. It helped that you could remove your emotions from it and not get attached to what would be on the receiving end. But a part of you left when the messages did. The frequency of the radio was set as you worked. Joel’s words were to the point; they’ll be waiting for you. He told you Tess would know what it meant, but you weren’t naive to the looming threat.

What if it were too late? What then?

Joel wished you hid your emotions better. Maybe then you could make it in this world. You carved space for yourself the same way the other survivors had. You had to. Sometimes you questioned if you were still human with how you could be bribed into just about anything. That was your law, a rule you could abide by—something comprehensive in a broken world. It was how you had gotten this job, and if you played things right, your way out too.

But you were still human, becoming fond of those you shouldn’t have. Playing favorites. Joel knew the advantage he had. Your ambiguous heart was on your sleeve. What you wanted was clear, even if most of those things fell out of reach.

Bill, and in turn Tess, would receive the message, and Joel seemed satisfied with your work. But he loitered for a moment inspecting the patrolling below. There was something about him breaking curfew that you envied.

You tried to bargain with him once, asking for a favor instead of ration cards.

Take me out. You had practically begged him. You thought the adrenaline of something like that would disrupt your routine in the most delectable way possible. But he refused, ignored the request entirely.

Joel compromised, gathering any empathy to bring you the strawberries Frank had wrapped in parchment. They were meant for him, something to reflect the growing friendship. But Joel passed them along to you. The exchange had nothing to do with his work or yours. It was a silent act, passing them along during another night of a broken curfew.

You had made a witty comment then, but in retrospect, you wished you had thanked him. Maybe if you had, Joel would have brought you along for the next harvest. For now, you settled with the impromptu visits with limited conversation.

“You’re welcome.” You called to him just before he could slip away.

Again, Joel hesitated with you. It was becoming a pattern easily recognizable; his desire to distance himself as if he were supposed to. He looked at you, seeing how relaxed you were. It was charming in a way, but the twinge of anxiety reminded him of the reality. You were an easy mark.

“Use this next time.” Joel tossed the knife from his pocket your way. It was a quick fix to the thoughts of you alone for the rest of the night. “Might actually be able to draw some blood.”

—

Joel didn’t like that you knew where he lived. He wasn’t necessarily hiding, but he preferred visits on his terms. You were sprawled in his favorite armchair, its back toward the window— even the possibility of an intrusion would have irritated him had he thought of it.

“So it was true.” Joel held back a proper greeting once you noticed he’d returned. “You were behind this.”

He lacked originality in his interrogation. You could predict now that every question you’d received concerned confidential information and the hopes of exposing it, just like all the others. They wanted to know how they were crossed and where to find them as if you were the one with the crystal ball.

“You really think it was me?” You prompted him with agitation. “Not the sleazy guy with the ponytail?”

Robert wasn’t smart enough to be behind this but was dumb enough to be a part of it. Joel looked into every one of your words for clues. He knew you would be omitting things intentionally.

You knew something. You held onto it tightly as if you were guilty. Joel wouldn’t be surprised if you were. The shifts at night relieved you of interacting with the more dangerous people of the city. However, your services still attached you to the world that they occupied.

“Did he say something to you?”

“Yeah, sweet nothings...” Part of you hoped to see jealousy cross Joel’s face, but you knew better. You frowned. “...What difference would it make?”

All the difference.

Your remark fell on absent but not deaf ears. He replayed the previous night's events, looking for something he was missing. Joel was double-crossed, not something entirely uncommon, but the tip-off came from the fact that he favored nights spent with you.

They’d shown up looking like any other guys in the city; dirt etched in every wrinkle, exhaustion always their companion, and profit dictating every decision. They treated you like you were his. You caught whispers of how their boss instructed them against marking you, knowing that only begged for the boogeyman to find them.

“Lyin’ doesn’t suit you.” Joel read you well, and you resented the fact.

Deep down, you were worried they’d follow through with their promise of returning. It was why you waited for Joel to return from whatever work he picked up for the day; you couldn’t rely on the off-chance he’d come looking for you a past curfew during your shift.

“They took my knife–your knife.” You sighed, your leg restless to work out any remaining adrenaline. “I’ll replace it.” The promise was weak, but you needed to shift the topic. “What was it worth two–maybe three– ration cards?”

Joel was backlit with the warm lamp, tempted to stay quiet against your misplaced joke. “And what’s that got to do with this?”

“Nothing,” You know your smile was coy, only to fuel Joel’s aggravation, “I’m trying to flirt.”

Everything felt clumsy. You felt out of place, but your feet had led you to his door. His apartment was bare, dust littering the crevices as no one had lived there. There were some remnants of Joel throughout, but nothing you were happy with finding. There were empty bottles and torn newspapers on the windows, and everything you touched felt cold.

“You could have told me.”

“You could have asked.” Your retort felt childish; you just didn’t know what to say anymore. “Look–You can’t be upset.” The claim was flimsy. “I bought you some time.”

They wanted to know where Joel kept his supply. You could have pointed them in the right direction, but your ethics were becoming inverted, polluted by growing attachment. You created a buffer, a slight goose chase, but the bruises below Joel’s eye proved they’d gotten to him in the end.

“You want a thank you? That it?”

Yes. If anyone found out that information was bought off you, everything you had would be compromised.

“I did you a favor.” You began to defend yourself. But you suppressed your vulnerability with something you were selfishly familiar with. “You owe me.”

Joel’s scoff held more humor than intended. Your eyes tracked how he needed a drink to hear what you had in mind. He hadn’t even bothered pouring you a glass as he drank straight from the bottle. The day was long, with too many twists and turns that drained him. Joel was moments from kicking you out.

“Frank wants to meet me.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Joel thought this was another lie, a deception to get him pliable. Yet, the message you got from Frank was clear. I want to meet the rabbit stealing from my garden. It made you nervous that your voyeuristic position was broken, you now the person the message was intended for. But it planted an excitement in your stomach that only Joel could provide a path for.

Another swig, another beat of silence.

“Your poutin’ ain’t gonna change my mind.” Joel waited for you to lunge with anger. However, you sat there as if your heart had been ripped from your chest. “You sold me out and expect a favor  from me.” You were getting sick of him scoffing. “That’ll be the day.”

“You’d rather I’d fend for myself?” You were baiting him; you wanted to fight, knowing it was the only way to get anything close to what you wanted.

“You’ll have to.”

On his nightstand, the bottle full of pills laughed at Joel. It helped with insomnia, but the anxious feeling followed him regardless of the dosage. You weren’t the sole reason he couldn’t shake the dread, but you hadn’t helped either. If there was one thing he could maybe control, it was you. You meant something to him outside of conventional affection. It’s what drew him in just to be burned.

“Stand up.”

“What?” You laughed. His expression had only deepened, one that never left his face and spoke for his exhaustion. “Joel, c’mon—” He wouldn’t repeat himself again. So you decided to entertain the request. “Alright…”

“Alright.” He repeated. He looked afraid to touch you directly. With a booted foot, he tapped at your own. “You need a wider stance than that.” Part of you expected to be thrown across the room. “Stand up straight.”

“I am.” You sighed. Joel was backlit with the warm lamplight, adjusting your stance, still not content with you not taking it seriously. “All this just to fight me?”

Good enough, he thought. With a hand held steady, as if ready for a gun’s recoil, Joel nodded at his palm. “Go on.”

You knew not to tuck your thumb away. The stance you took reflected years of self-defense. But Joel wanted you to learn how to cause damage. You needed to shift your weight to swivel with more intention.

“Are you done proving your point?” You asked. Joel had you repeat your actions until the palm of his hand stung.

“For now.” Joel returned to his bottle. It dwindled, but it had yet to take the desired effect. 

You would have continued if he'd asked. You wanted him to. There wasn’t a reason for you to move closer to him beside your desire. You knew invading his space only meant one of two things; either he’d return the favor of the damage you caused him or do what you’ve been pathetically yearning for. Or the unlucky third option that only involved rejection.

You loved to push your luck.

“I told Frank we’ll set out in a week.” You distracted him from your confession, moving your hands between his shoulder blades. It was a way to get Joel's full attention.

Joel let you explore for a moment. He was begrudgingly curious to know what your touch felt like outside of the unintentional contact when handing you a note or striking his hand. He knew what he should be doing, how he should— would have reacted with anyone else.

But he couldn’t bring himself to touch you in that way.

Joel indulged in every twitch and expression of your body language once he faced you. He hoped it would expose you, but he found nothing but poise. You were enjoying yourself, enjoying being watched by him.

"M’not changing my mind."

“Please, Joel…” You spoke low as if the neighbors would hear. You hadn’t even wanted to hear yourself, knowing your desperation. “...can’t you play favorites for once?”

“That’s a trick question.” His facade had slipped. His response was a second too quick, making a warmth trickle throughout your chest.

Your ears rang at the admission. His words filled the room and stuck like honey.

He was always thinking. Joel was intentional; everything was thought out, and if it wasn’t, he was still level-headed. It wasn’t hard to recognize his behavior patterns; he knew what he was doing. Finally, though, everything became a second thought as you reached him with intent, tilting his chin to expose his neck.

“Easy.”  His warning highlighted his drawl while he caught your wrist.

The grip was loose, allowing your intentions to continue. Joel’s fingertips were warm as you grasped them softly. Before your hand could wrap around his, it was held by one of Joel’s, the maneuver tightening the warm hold he was creating. His skin pricked. Your touch tickled him, but he leaned into it fully. Joel was used to touch hurting or leading to something that hurt.

He didn’t look at you as he turned your hand over in his, focusing instead on your palm as he ran his thumb over the lines of your smoother skin. Joel’s head remained bowed, his face hidden from you. He wanted to carry his affection to the grave without letting it surface. But he couldn’t deny that it was true and slowly killing him.

There’s hesitation on both your part, the shy kind that managed to bring down even the strongest man. Yet, Joel came to realize his mistake.

“Enough of that.” His face hardened into a practiced expression. “Don’t.” His grip was tighter, just shy of hurting you. “I’m not doin’ that.”

Joel had fallen into your trap, misunderstanding your touch as an unorthodox payment to bring you to Frank’s. Everything had to be business with you in his eyes. The decision was already made to bring you despite his resistance, but this solidified that his act of so-called kindness wasn’t for you.

It was for Frank’s sake. At the moment, Joel couldn’t look at you the same, knowing he could only have you like this. His anger blurred your intention; you wanted to bring him closer to confirm your admiration, but it morphed into something it was never meant to be.  That third option snuck up on you, rejection making your heart swell until it sunk into your stomach. You caught a glimpse of tenderness just to be replaced with disgust.

[tropes-and-tales]

Cute as a June Bug

December 14:  Mistletoe/Hands - Fake dating (Horacio Carrillo x F!reader)

(From the winter prompts found here)

CW:  The post convoluted plot point yet; fluff; pining; no edits, just posted straight from the first draft

Word Count:  1322

AN:  Requested by two separate anons!

It’s humiliating.  It’s a humiliating situation for any man, let alone the head of the Search Bloc.  

He’s not a child.  He’s a goddamned man, and yet…here he is, in this humiliating position.

“You look nice, boyfriend,” you tell him, and then you snort, laugh at your own joke.  You reach out to straighten his tie, but he bats your hands away with a grumble.

“Stop it,” Horacio says.  “Drop the act until we need it.”

“Until you need it, you grump.”  You turn to the mirror in your entryway and lean close to the glass as you study your lipstick.  You drag a fingertip against your lower lip, fix a line.  “Remember, I’m only here because you asked.”

He wishes you wouldn’t remind him.  After his divorce from Juliana, Horacio had enjoyed (maybe not enjoyed, exactly) a period of quiet.  A period of resetting, of regrouping.

And then his mother launched her assault:  Adella Carrillo couldn’t rest until her youngest son was settled in a new marriage, and she had called him constantly with the names of available women she knew.  Women eager to meet her handsome, important son, women willing to overlook his atrocious hours and difficult work…

Horacio Carrillo is a tough man, but he never could withstand the barrages from his mother.  He snapped a month in, lied.  Said he was seeing someone.

The lie, like many lies, spun out of control.  Each conversation with his mother required more details.  He was steadily backed into the corner, and most of the lies…well, he works with you.  It was an easy thing to talk to his mother on the phone from his office while gazing out across the bullpen at you.  

It was easy to supply the lies with details about you.  Your name.  Your job with the Americans, the agent with the DEA who focuses on intel, working with the CIA.  What you look like.

Hell, Carrillo even knows enough of your likes and dislikes to provide those too.

But then his mother pulls her master stroke:  an invitation to the family Christmas party, and Carrillo is trapped like a rat.

-----

He’ll only find out later why you agree to it.  You hide it so well, your crush on him—he never even guesses.  You only tell him later, an entire year later when you’re his girlfriend and soon to be his fiancée.  You only admit it moments before he offers you the ring and moments before you accept it.

When he asks you to pose as his fake girlfriend, though, you give him a sly grin and ask what’s in it for you.  He offers you money, offers you better hours and days off, but you wave him away and say you’ll do it for nothing.

His first clue, then.  He misses it entirely.

-----

“You do look nice,” you repeat now, and your voice loses its teasing edge.  You look at him earnestly, and he feels some of his anxiety bleed off.  You won’t let this go sideways on him.  He trusts you when you’re in the field.  He trusts the intel you give them—always good, golden stuff.

He trusts you now.

“You look nice too,” he replies.  You do:  he used to seeing you in jeans and button-down camp shirts, but you’re in a wrap dress and heels, red lipstick and hair done.  

“So one more time.  How long have we been seeing each other?” you ask, and you watch his reflection in the mirror.

“Six months.”

“And you asked me out.”

He smiles.  “Yes.”

“Our first date.  You took me to a steakhouse.”

“That’s right.”  A beat, and then he lists out the things he’s told his mother about you—all the intel he had at the time.  You nod at each detail and only correct him on one bit, the number of siblings you have.

“Here’s the million dollar question, Horacio,” you say, still watching him in the mirror.  “Why did you decide to ask me out?”

The lies work best when they are nearest to the truth, so that’s what he does.  

“I asked you out because you’re smart and good at your job.  And you make me laugh.”

That pulls a laugh out of you.  “I’ve never heard you laugh in my life.  I’m lucky to get a smile.”

“That’s because you only know me at work.”  He reaches past you and opens your door, then gestures for you to walk through it.  “I’m a different man with my family.”

“Oh, family Carrillo,” you tease, but you let him lay his hand on your lower back and gently steer you out to the street.  “He’s a nicer guy than Search Bloc Carrillo.  That guy could crack granite with his steely gaze.”

He ignores your teasing.  “Remember to be careful with the idioms and slang.  My family speaks English well but it’s formal.”

“So I can’t say that I think you’re as cute as a June bug?”

He glances at you.  “My family won’t know what a June bug is.  I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a giant beetle.”

“Doesn’t sound cute at all,” he grumbles.

-----

You interrogate each other on the drive to his parents’ house, and while Carrillo is nervous, he’s pleasantly surprised to find that it’s not that bad.  He’s not riddled with anxiety.  Despite your teasing, you’ve put him at ease.

At his childhood home, he parks and then comes around to the passenger’s side of the car to open your door.  He takes your hand to help you out, but when he goes to release it, you hold him fast.

“Is this okay?” you ask.  “Too much PDA if we hold hands?”

“No, it’s…”  He clears his throat.  “It’s good.”

Just outside the door, you pause and turn to him.  You offer him a reassuring smile, and there’s a warmth there that dissipates any lingering nervousness.

“This is going to go well,” you tell him.  “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.  Company manners only.”

He returns your smile with his own.  “I know.  I trust you.”  He hesitates and adds, “I appreciate this.”

“Of course.”  You squeeze his hand, then tilt your head at the door.  “Now go introduce your smart girlfriend who’s good at her job and makes you laugh to your family.”

-----

The party does go well, as you said it would.  You charm his family with your good manners, your humor.  You tease him gently, which charms his mother in particular:  she’s always said that Horacio is too serious, so she’s happy that he’s with someone who can chip away at that reserve.

You enter the party as his fake girlfriend, a coworker doing him a favor, but that hard line already starts to crumble.  Near the end of the night when you’re tipsy on wine and he’s loose and warm from the success of his coup and the convivial nature of the party, you catch yourselves lingering in a doorway.  He has his arm around your waist, lightly resting his hand on your hip, and your head is tilted against his shoulder.  You’re watching the party from the sidelines, but one of Horacio’s teenaged nieces notices what you each have missed.

“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing above your heads.  “You have to kiss her, Tío.”

You’re tipsy on wine, and Horacio guesses that’s why you tilt your head up to him with a shy smile.  He’s tipsy on the moment—and later on, after he’s dropped you off at your apartment and he’s home in his bed alone, he’ll admit it:  he’s tipsy on you too.  A surprising thing, how perfect you feel against him.

“It’s the rules,” he tells you softly with a shrug.  

“You’re nothing if not a stringent rule-follower,” you reply, and you gift him with the barest of nods, an invitation.

So he bends his head and follows the rules:  he kisses you.

[vinff7]

This update got me looking at and editing some of my Head canons, so posting those here. HC for how Gortash started worshiping Bane. And other ‘young Gortash’ HC

The game gives us very little hints about how and when Gortash started worshiping Bane. (Except for that one draft of a biography that seemed to place it in his adulthood, but doesn’t mention Hell? I think that might have just been when his Bane worship got more pronounced and noticed by that author not when it really started)

So I’ve made my own headcanon as I’ve seen multiple different versions around.

For me I think he started worshiping Bane in the House of Hope. Not right off the bat. I HC that Gortash likely was enslaved down there around the age of 10. Obviously a very difficult transition for a child to start living in Hell. But I think he eventually got to a point where he was aloud to wander somewhat and read in the library to educate himself. But was also taught by the Walock that brought him there to start (In-between him getting tortured and abused because I love whump to much to not imagine that there were horendious things done to him)

During this time around age 11 I like to think that he caught the attention of an awful demon/devil that would take torturing him really far, citing how amusing it was to get Enver to cry.

I also like to HC that young Enver had really bad anxiety and fear around crying. Like when he was in baulders gate his parents would get furious and yell at him to shut up. So if he noticed he was getting close to crying he would panic, which would pretty much ensure he would cry. And it would be a fun awful spiral of self hate thoughts at himself to be quiet and stop crying making his crying worse.

Anyway, awful torture keeps happening to the kid in between him needing to work and learn. And then Enver’s warlock teacher misses his lesson, and the next one. So Enver is hiding out trying to avoid the houses inhabitants when he finally spots his Walrock teacher and approaches them. Tries to figure out when his next lesson would be. Only to get dismissed with a wave. His mentor tells him The devil that had taken an interest in him has a habit of killing and breaking prisoners and he out ranks the Warlock, so the Warlock is giving up teaching Enver since trying to argue that he should be left alone would be more trouble then it’s worth.

Outright tells an 11 year old “Yeah, maybe not today, but I bet by the time 6 months has passed he’ll have tortured you to death. So there’s not really a point in teaching you anything anymore. No matter what you or I do you’ll end up the like mindless tormented souls soon.“ seeing how terrified Enver looked he says “Best you can do is try convince a god to fish your soul out of here after that devil gets bored or reckless enough to torture you to death.”

Which uh, def fucks with Enver’s head. So he does start deep diving into the Gods and trying to figure out if he can find any he aligns with enough that they would take him. And during this search he finds books about Bane and I fee like Bane’s philosophies is something he would immediatly relate and cling too.

Bane started as a slave and became a God. Bane teaches that the world is truely an Evil place by default, and pretending it isn’t is a lie. Someone who has only seen the worst the worlds have to offer must feel so validated reading that. To me Bane teaches so much about Self Disciple and self Control that some of his books written by worshipers must go into methods of self control. I can see young Enver finding a book of Worship with mantras to repeat when feeling weak or when needing to focus and clinging to those like a life raft.

Repeating phrases like mantras over and over in real life can have mind altering properties. Add a religious one to a word with magic and maybe there is an added Boost that actually works for getting in the zone via worship.

I don’t think Bane answered or noticed Enver at first, at all. I don’t think this discouraged Enver at all, the mantras helped and he figured he needed to do more to earn his gods favor so he worked at it. The focus on his self control helped. He could endure toruture quietly more and some of his tormentors lost interest in the now more stoic boy. Learning to master himself became a thing he could control to keep himself sane in Hell through the torment.

Obviously things didn’t ever get kind in Hell. But I also imagine after a few years of contactless worship Bane does notice Enver since getting prayer pings from Hell is not the most common. I doubt he would often interveen. Enduring torture is good training for a Banite.

I do think the first time they speak is an intervension though. Gods are able to see the future when it comes to things under their portfolio and so I imagine he could see that Enver has a LOT of potential. But he notices that the potential vanishes if all is left with nothing changing which gets him to interveen.

In my head the violent devil that started all of this does decide he want’s to break Enver during a point where Raphael might have been out of the house. Bane notices looking into the future that the torture they have planned for Enver would shatter him, and while Bane approved of discipline, he knows the difference between being weak and being put through so much agony that it’s unreasonable to expect discipline to cary someone through.

So I imagine Enver getting dragged from his cell, trying to fight down panic and start praying as a devil taunts him about his up coming torutre then, vision starts getting very dark and far away as Bane reaches in and just puuuulls his soul away. Bane is able to posses his followers so in my mind he does that for Gortash and pulls him away for a private chat.

I imagine being possesed by Bane is a bit like The Sunken Place from Get out. There is a viewing window you can look out to see what you body is doing, and otherwise Bane sponsored darkness. I feel like they had a short chat, nothing huge for Bane but life altering for a kid, someone actually caring for him enough to help. I feel like Bane would make an agreement with Enver that he will make sure Enver will never have to go through anything so bad that he would not be able to overcome it, which is a huge boost of self confidence for Enver. Now anytime he’s getting tortured in the future he has the promise of ‘My God knows this won’t break me’ going off in the back of his mind.

Bane also tells Enver that he won’t step in to free Enver, Enver needs to free himself, but he will grant him power if needed so that Enver can rise up as long as Enver loyaly serves him.

And so that is how they meet and Enver becomes even more loyally tied to Bane in my HC! I also have a couple ideas I’ll toss here at the end about him escaping since I’m already rambling.

I like to think that once he was older Enver was able to escape by using the Helldusk boots since he has those in game. My though was somehow the boots magic was used almost like a magic key? So he stole those, wards noticed the boots and figured whoever had them must be aloud to be there else why would they have them, so they helped him get past some magic locks and escape.

I did see in a fic about Enver leaping through those portals that could cause insanity and just giving a ‘hey help me out’ prayer to Bane to help him survive which worked and I always liked that idea.

Last Gortash ~ Bane idea that I like is that once Gortash escaped from the House of Hope Bane gave him his approval and told him like “You’re a Watchful Brother in Bane’s church, now you’ll never be called a Slave again.” And got to skip that ‘rank’ in normal Baneite hierarchy.

[avelnfear]

Chapter Nine

Masterlist

Danny had just finished getting things set up for dinner that night when there was a knock on the door. It was odd because Ellie had a key, and Jason would either call out while knocking or just break in through the window. Something in the air told them that they wouldn’t be back to enjoy dinner, so they sighed as they started putting everything away.

After that was done, they marched to their door and yanked it open. Standing in the doorway, looking slightly awkward about it, was one of his oldest friends. They hadn’t started as friends in their first lives, and they never even met in their second. This life, though, Clockwork had sent them to meet them with some time travel shenanigans. 

“Hey… Can I come in?” She had her hair brushed in front of her face, and she was wearing a simple pair of grey leggings with an oversized long sleeve shirt with a cartoon ghost on it. It was an outfit he’d bought and hidden for her when it became clear she didn’t have some of the common comforts normal people did.

“Hey yourself.” His smile was surely a mixture of sad and nostalgic, but they’d promised long ago not to lie to each other. Instead of saying more words, he stepped to the side and gestured into his apartment with a sweeping motion of his arm.

When they were both situated on the couch, Talia smiled at him with a sad smile of her own. “Thanks… How’ve you been?”

Danny narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re dilly dallying. You, almost as a rule, don’t do that. What aren’t you telling me? We’ve never lied to each other, don’t start now.”

Talia’s eyes narrowed in return. “You remember.” The smile grew into a smirk of sorts. “I’m here because Father did something stupid. Something I had no real way to entirely stop if I wanted to take over the League and stop him completely. Elle won’t be coming home, nor will any of the Bats aside from Alfred, Father took them to get to you. He thinks he can control you through them, but I know better. Before I left to come here, I activated a plan that cleared my people out of the base except for those who are protecting Damian in my quarters. I’m here to ask you to let me help you fight your way through the base and to ask you to let me be the one to kill Father, if only so that you can claim your retribution long afterwards.”

“You remember too.” Danny went silent, thinking things through. As he came to a conclusion, a horrible, terrifying smile that was a bit too wide for his face appeared. “That sounds like it will be purr-fect. After all,” His voice had dipped into a purr that screamed danger, “I don’t let anyone get away with messing with my people.”

The grin Talia gave him in response was downright deadly. Danny was sure the result of all of this was going to be an absolute bloodbath, but he couldn’t quite find it in himself to care. They had decided to mess with his family, so he was going to mess with what they cared about right back. Ra’s would rue the day that he’d decided to mess with Danny.

~`~`~

Tim came into consciousness slowly, with all the creeping slowness of waking from sedatives. As soon as his brain processed what he was seeing, he struggled to stand, not managing it due to the chains and magic that surrounded him in the room that housed the Lazarus Pit. His eyes darted around, noting the placement of his family, a girl that looked eerily like Danny, and, the one he’d been looking for all along, Ra’s al Ghul.

“It seems you are all awake now, good.” Ra’s was smiling in a way that meant he thought everything was going according to his plan, and it seemed like an even more disgusting plan than usual, Ra’s didn’t usually include civilians.

“What do you want?” Bruce’s voice was gruff and tense, and Tim could tell there was even more tension and anxiety in Bruce than was being shown in his voice or body language. “Where’s Damian?”

Tim’s eyes widened as Bruce’s words made him look over the room again, revealing that Damian really wasn’t with the group of hostages. Tim and his family exchanged glances with each other, expressing the horror and worry they all felt as they all ran through all the horrible reasons for Damian not being tied up with the rest of them.

“Do not worry about him, he’s with his mother. Worry for yourselves and your purpose here.” The smile on Ra’s face got even more disgusting, somehow. Tim found it a little insulting that Ra’s said that.

Tim was worried. He was worried about Gotham and the people they weren’t there to protect, Danny in particular. He was worried about Conner and the rest of the Supers when they heard that the Bats had all been kidnapped. He was worried about whatever plot was happening this time. He was worried about Damian, who had been separated from the group for whatever reason. He was worried about what Danny would think when they all simultaneously disappeared. He was worried about how disgusting and self-satisfied the smile on Ra’s face was.

“B already asked you what you want.” Dick’s voice was dark yet still cheerful, likely for the purpose of giving Ra’s a false reason to blab his plot. Ra’s knew that Dick was always cheerful unless all hope was lost, and he thought that all hope should be lost, thus he would explain more that they could then, hopefully, use to escape.

Ra’s laughed a dark laugh. “You won’t get out of those chains without my express permission, so there’s no harm in telling you. I want the connections that I can get once I get my hands on Daniel Fenton. Once I have those connections and weapons, I will be able to live forever with such power at my hands that the world will finally fall into my rightful, ruling hands.”

Tim’s expression hardened. “That won’t work out in your favor.” He didn’t fully understand what Ra’s said, but he knew that it wouldn’t work out, call it instinct.

“On the contrary, it will. See, he’s the least dangerous one.” Ra’s was about to continue when Jason snorted. With a glare at Jason for interrupting him, Ra’s continued on, “He’s the civilian friend to a family of Bats.” A chuckle burst from Jason’s lips, and everyone in the room looked confused at that reaction, even Jason. After a moment more of confused staring, Ra’s got back into his swing and went on, “By taking all of you first, we’ve left him without any support thus making it easy to deal with him.” Jason let out a short laugh this time, and Tim was getting concerned about how confused Jason seemed to be about his own behaviour. Was this another side effect of the Lazarus Pit? Was- Ra’s broke through Tim’s spiraling thoughts with a sharp, “What are you laughing about?”

Jason couldn’t seem to answer him, every time he opened his mouth more chuckles spilled out. The confusion and horror on his face as it seemed like he couldn’t even stop himself from laughing unnerved Tim more than just the plain laughter would have. It was almost like Jason was under the effects of Joker Venom. Tim exchanged glances with the rest of the hostages, except for the girl who looked like Danny, this wasn’t normal.

“What do you find so funny?” For all the confusion in the tone, Ra’s voice was still sharper than a League member’s katana. “You’ve just been informed that your closest civilian friend will be under our control through you and your little group being used as hostages. We even have preparations made to stop any of the super powered friends of your little group from rescuing you. What. Is. So. Funny?”

Abruptly, Jason’s laughter cut off, further unnerving everyone in the room. Jason had just barely subtly signed the word “instinct” to the rest of them before he was leaning forward in his chains with a cocky smile on his face, although Tim could see the confusion hidden deep within his eyes. “I don’t find it funny.” He paused likely for dramatic effect, because Jason was a dramatic little fuck like that. “I find it fucking hilarious.” The room sat in stunned silence as Jason leaned backwards, looking ridiculously at ease for being chained to the floor in the same room as a Lazarus Pit except for the fact that Tim could see conflicting emotions hidden deep within his eyes and posture.

“Wha-” Ra’s began only to be interrupted.

“You think he’s the civilian among us.” He chuckled a little. “You think that capturing us was anything but putting a fancy signature on your death certificate, and I mean your final death certificate. You think he’s the least dangerous one. You think your people can do a single fucking thing to him? You think he needs our help. You think you’ll be able to control him. You think you’re safe. You think you’ve won.” Jason’s tone was the same as the one a parent uses to explain to their child that the square peg won’t ever fit in the circular hole about five hours into that conversation.

“You-” Ra’s once again got interrupted.

Jason scoffed. “Me? Well I’m just waiting. Waiting for that gorgeous expression you’ll make when you realize how extremely,” Jason pronounced every syllable of that word with sharp carefulness, “wrong you are. Your wonderful fucking strategy is an absolute shitshow of misinformation. If I were you, I’d starting fucking praying. I’m talking hands and knees, tears running down your face, wailing at the sky, rocking on the ground, don’t give a shit except about being granted a positive answer praying. Because I really doubt that any god will answer you with anything but a negative, they wouldn’t want to anger the one you call a civilian.” The grin that took over Jason’s face was sharp and mildly unhinged, but the confusion still rested heavy in his eyes.

The girl look-a-like of Danny burst out laughing, drawing the confused attention of the rest of the room. “He’s so very right, ya know. I don’t think he knows how right he be, but sweet baby Ancients is he correct. You wanted to use Danny’s loved ones as a controlling mechanism? Translated that equals you wanting to learn why death is not a mercy, it’s a sentence. Pa is going to rip you limb. from. limb. at the very least, but don’t worry, you’ll feel it all. Every. Last. Bit. Of. It.” The girl’s voice was dark, sharp, and targeted towards the end, losing the mirth that had colored it when she first started speaking.

Ra’s walked over to the girl, stiff with anger and slapped her hard, right across the face. The girl’s only response was to start laughing once again. Ra’s growled in growing anger. “Little girl, you should stop laughing because you don’t know who you’re messing with.”

That got her to stop laughing, but the expression on her face sent chills down Tim’s spine. It wasn’t particularly terrifying for any reason he would usually give, but it was far too calm for someone who’d just gotten slapped hard enough to be rocked backwards. “I know exactly who you are, Ra’s al Ghul. I know all about your twisted rap sheet. To be frank, I expected you to hit harder. I mean, come on, I’ve been hit harder by literal toddlers. You should reevaluate your life if you think that you are dangerous to me.” 

Ra’s stiffened even further, and the girl, for some reason, found that so hilarious that she burst into laughter once again. This only served to piss Ra’s off even more. Tim, and his family which he saw whenever he managed to drag his eyes away from the horror show in front of him, could only watch as Ra’s proceeded to beat the girl up as she laughed the whole while.

Finally, when the girl had blood freely flowing from her broken nose on top of more invisible injuries, Tim couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you such a wimp that you have to beat up a girl to make yourself feel better?” Tim felt the words were a bad idea as they slipped out, but he was already doing it. Ra’s turned with a look so full of anger Tim questioned if he’d ever see another one like it. He had just managed to brace himself when the slap hit, shifting with it to lessen the blow even though that barely helped.

Over the ringing in his ears, he heard a massive boom coming from the direction of the big double doors. The boom repeated twice more, almost like a slow and steady knock. “What?!” Ra’s snapped out, although Tim didn’t think his voice was loud enough to be heard beyond the door. Three more of the slow booms resonated throughout the room from the doors. “What?!!” Ra’s shouted, this time actually being loud enough that Tim thought it could be heard through the door.

A final massive boom echoes as the doors are blown open, revealing a small pile of assassins that appear to have been beaten into unconsciousness denoted by the bruises spreading across a lot of the visible skin, some of the bruises were already turning purple. Tim might be having issues seeing because of the reflexive tears from the slap, but he swore he could see some bones poking out of skin. The area past the pile was darker than it should be, the only light seeming to be from the room itself. That wasn’t normal, the base was usually well lit, especially in frequently used areas. What was going on?

~`~`~

Jason was alternating between looking at the pile in shock and glaring at Ra’s for his actions. Nellie had done nothing to him other than pointing a couple of things out though Tim had, admittedly, antagonized Ra’s to get his slap. However, Jason’s blood was boiling as he watched a little bit of red leak out of Tim’s nose, the slight swelling already happening by his eye, and the blood starting to bead at the split in Tim’s lip. The odd orb in his chest that had prompted his strange speech was howling like a hurricane in his chest, roaring in a way that he almost understood.

“Who’s out there?” Ra’s yelled out, tone arrogant and demanding in a way Jason knew wasn’t going to end well, although he wouldn’t be able to give a concrete answer as to why he knew that with such surety.

The only answer from the darkness beyond the door was a long sigh followed by something being thrown into the room. It clearly wasn’t going to reach them, not with its size or trajectory, so no one did anything to try and get out of the way. Ra’s just watched the thing with dark eyes. The thing landed, revealing itself to be an assassin who was folded in on themselves, pinned in place by their own broken bones. Something darkly satisfied and knowing settled a large portion of the hurricane in the orb in his chest, calming it to merely a raging windstorm.

Danny walked in calmly, in the same style he did when entering the store on their grocery runs, like nothing was wrong. Despite the fact that there was no weapon anywhere to be seen on Danny, and none in the pile of assassins, there was blood splashed all over Danny’s face and clothes. His hands were clean, but there was no totally clean spot other than that.

“Hello Ra’s al Ghul, how are you today?” His voice was cheerful, but his eyes promised pain as they stared into Ra’s own.

“You-” Ra’s was once again interrupted, giving Jason an odd sense of pride-joy-funny that he couldn’t quite place.

“Da!!” Nellie’s voice was full of relief and joy along with a fair bit of pain. “It’s so good to see you!”

Jason watched as Danny looked over to them all and froze. His face closed off and became harder than steel as his eyes locked with the wounds on Nellie and Tim. There was no massive shift in the way Danny stood, but something about him now screamed dangerous in a way that Jason definitely found attractive.

“I was going to let you live for a while, seeing as I hadn’t heard from you. But, sugar, I think you need to learn your lesson. Those are my people, and they do not belong here. You are lucky that I was alerted of this now because my patience can only last for so long. You are a lucky son of a chocolate ice cream cone because if I kill you here and now then I won’t be able to do everything I want to. Thankfully, for me, not for you, I have an old friend of mine with a bone or twenty to pick with you, so she’ll be the one to kill you so that I can properly punish you after your death. You’ll have to deal with being beaten by a girl while you dance around acknowledging the fact that you done messed up. Don’t worry, you’ll never have the chance to do so again once it’s my turn.” Danny’s tone was even icier than it had been when Dick got chewed out for sparking the panic attack of Tim that one time, it was harder than it had been in the few times gangs had tried to rob them on their grocery trips, and it was so incredibly attractive to see how protective Danny was over the people that he cared about.

Danny walked forward to the point where no one could see his face other than Ra’s, and while he did that, Talia walked in behind him with an oddly proud look on her face. Jason didn’t have long to study her expression though because Ra’s suddenly let out a cry filled with fear. Looking back, Jason saw that Ra’s was kneeling before Danny, staring up at their face with a look so complicated that Jason couldn’t read it.

“Is it my turn to deal with the pathetic old man, my friend?” Talia purred out, everything about her radiated satisfaction and pride.

“Go ahead. Just remember what you need to do once he’s dead.” Danny’s voice was starting to warm up again, less like an ice age and more like a heavy blizzard.

Jason heard the sound of Talia fighting and taunting Ra’s, but he only had eyes for Danny as they checked over Nellie and Tim to make sure they were mostly okay, even giving Nellie a pill that seemed to fix most of the wounds she’d gained from the lunatic. Talia sounded like she was wrapping things up as Jason watched Danny study the magic and the chains as though looking for a way to free them all. They’d managed to get the chains to let them go when the magic disappeared. Finally looking away from Danny, Jason saw that Talia had killed Ra’s and was pointing a weird metal cylinder built like a thermos at his corpse. Jason tilted his head slightly in confusion as Talia just stood there, waiting and watchful like a big cat with eyes on its prey.

A green mist started forming above Ra’s corpse, the color only slightly different than the Lazarus Pit behind it. “May you never be reborn again, in this life or the next.” Talia said in a soft voice that was surprisingly open for the assassin she’d always appeared to be. As the last echo faded and the mist started to take form, she pushed a button on the odd thermos and a blue light shot out, wrapping around the shadowy green form that was taking the same shape as Ra’s. When the blue light retreated into the thermos, it took Ra’s soul with it, leaving only his corpse behind.

Jason, and the family he could see out of his peripheral vision, watched carefully as Talia sauntered over to Danny, clipping the thermos to his belt as she flung an arm around his shoulders and leaned into him in a way Jason was sure she’d never done with anyone before. There was a gasp from the doorway and suddenly Damian was throwing himself into Talia, who let go of Danny to wrap her son in a hug.

Danny retreated to where their group was sitting, stunned into being statues, with a fond look on his face. Turning to them, he spoke, “Ask your questions after we get everyone back home, I’m sure Alfred is worried about you all.” Danny’s voice brokered no arguments, as did his actions as he swept Tim up into his arms while Nellie attached herself to their back. “I’ve got the injured ones, let’s get going.”

The Bats could only trade glances as they unfroze to follow behind the assassin and the assistant head guard. The glances told Jason that none of them knew what was going on, but they were all determined to find out. Jason felt an intense need to know why Talia was acting so out of character and why he had a strange orb filled with foreign emotions and sensations. As he walked with the group, following a path out of the base that was littered with unconscious or dead assassins, he swore he could see flashes of another person where Danny should be. One with white hair, a cape, and a pair of heeled combat boots. It faded quickly, and as soon as they left the base, the flashes disappeared like they were never there. Jason put it out of his mind, he could worry about it after making sure his family was okay.

Taglist: @blacksea21090 @chrysanthemum9484 @samgirl98 @may-rbi @justwannaseesomebrozawa @serasvictoria02 @treepainting @fluffykster @enderglace @sigdexae @persephoneblackrose @angelofsongsoteira @lazy-bouqet @littlefeather345 @icedbluesoul @autumnwulf @thefearfullone @alixanterm @skulld3mort-1fan @dulceringo @vidimirrayne @betinaplayingwriter @the-legal-shipper @currant-owo @crystalqueertea @fisticuffsatapplebees @bugaboo25 @dannyphantomphan @botwadtict @kyrianclawraith @mnemovoid @lyra689 @demiourgias @d4ydr34min9 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @emeraldcorpral @bobred18 @emergentpanda-blog @apointlessbox @pastalavistamf @v-inari @shadow-otaku20 @hellomygay 

[frostironfudge]

Silhouettes In the Spotlight - Bucky Barnes - Fourteen

Summary: Bucky Barnes has worked immensely hard to have a filmography expanding across genres and garnering accolades from critics, peers and fans. Y/N Y/L/N, with her debut novel (fan-fiction turned New York Times Bestseller) has two other best sellers under her belt. Next is her highly anticipated fourth book lined up for release. SHEILD Productions has acquired the film rights to her debut novel and they want Bucky Barnes to play the lead (aka himself) by any means necessary. This story is about angst, lust, heartbreak, and love. After all fairytales only exist in books and movies right?

Warnings: fluff, angst, insulting language to the reader by a secondary character, alexander pierce is still a shit head he doesn't understand personal space, SA mentioned not described, drugs mentioned not consumed, entertainment industry language (basically misleading way of delivering news), slight amount of smut, dirty talking, legal stuff being spoken about, fbi workings. reader has alot of anxiety described through this chapter at various points.

Pairing: Actor!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.6k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist || Fic Masterlist || AO3 || Fic Playlist

Chapter Thirteen || Chapter Fifteen

HEADLINES:

Fan’s excitement for book announcement turns sour, watch Y/N Y/L/N Take Control Of The Situation, We Stan A Powerful Woman

Fans Praise Steve Rogers Standing Up For Y/N 

Smouldering Hot Dolores Sets The Runway On Fire While Walking For Best Friend's Brand

Loki and Ace Are They A Thing? When Will They Admit To Their Hidden Romance? 

Bucky Barnes and Y/N Share An Intimate Moment Amidst Chaos, Five Times These Two Were Bestie Goals.

Bucky watches from the sidelines of the lit fest. The auditorium brimmed with excitement. He wondered if this is how you felt during the cast reveal for your previous books. Pride weaves into his bones as you step out on stage, massive applause breaks out and he can’t help but wolf-whistle as well. 

You’re his girl and he would be damned if he didn’t come out to support you. He has to bite his lip before he moans seeing your outfit, yet again. The way the suit pants cling to your ass has his own tightening. 

Flashes of this morning coax his mind, your hands in his hair tugging him closer and pushing him away. The taste of you on his tongue. Fuck he needs to remain between your legs for days before he can satieate himself. 

Your eyes find him just as he licks his bottom lip. Heat pools in your belly at the thought of Bucky on his knees, licking the remnants of you from his lips, his stubble glistening. 

He smirks at you as he watches the slight shift in your demeanour. He knows you’re thinking about this morning as well. 

“Oh my god.” He hears a voice exclaim, “That's! That's Bucky!” 

He turns his head around, sure enough a few seats down they raise their phones for a picture. 

“Hey could you hold off on posting that? I’m here to support her.” He calls over the voices that are slowly going down in decibel. 

They nod he knows it's a long shot but he has to take it, today was about you. To an extent Steve as well, given he was on the panel from HYDRA’s Publication House too. 

Steve walks out next waving at the crowd, the cheers are deafening, flashes of the cameras ensue. He comes over smiling and hugs you. 

The host gestures for the two of you to take your seats.  

Yelena sits next to Bucky, Angel next to her. 

After what Bucky had said to Yelena she hadn’t spoken to him more than required. However she was speaking a little more to you, which he appreciated. 

The crowd begins to settle into silence as the crew checks for the mics and hands one each to Steve and you. 

“Welcome Everyone!” The host cheers, “I’m Peter Quill, your host for this fine evening in literature. Though as an entertainment presenter I may not be qualified.” The crowd laughs, Peter grins. 

“Now I can, however, ask right off the bat if these two have been having fun filming, I Think I Met You In My Dreams Once.” 

The crowd cheers again, Steve laughs and you chuckle. Both smiling at the crowd. 

“Are you having fun on the film set? Ms. Executive Producer?” Steve teases, you roll your eyes at him. 

“When you aren’t taking too long in hair and make up, yes.” 

“Hey, I’ve got to look great to bring your character to life.” Steve defends, raising a brow in challenge.  

“You’re right, Beck did have his hair blow dried and then a pommade made with more spray to hold.” Your deadpan delivery makes Bucky laugh, Steve always was the worst when it came to his meticulous hair process. No matter the role this was always the case. 

Steve rolls his eyes, “It’s all good fun.” He says with a smile. 

The two of you turn back to Peter. 

“Now, Y/N we heard some news that you broke Steve’s heart.” Peter tilts his head and gives you a knowing look. 

“Oh yeah, he’s upset that my new book doesn’t have a character inspired by him.” You explain. 

“I don’t wike it.” Steve pouts like a kid, slapping his hand on his thigh. 

“Oh you know what I meant you smart lady.” Peter points a finger between the two of you. 

Steve shakes his head, “Honestly man, let it go. We’re here to talk about books.” 

“Right, right.” Peter shuffles through the cue cards. 

Steve looks at you, you smile at him. Then your gaze shifts to Bucky. He smiles at you. Seeing him there cheering you on makes you beam brighter. Happiness coursing through you at having a partner support your endeavours so wholeheartedly. 

“So Steve, do you plan to return to writing? Maybe a joint venture?” Peter gives yet another speculative look. 

“Hmm maybe I could, you never know I do have one more book in my contract. I wonder if a murder mystery would be fun. Would you all read it? Though I mean I’d have to ask our favourite author for tips.” Steve looks at you then at the crowd they cheer in agreement. 

“Murder mystery and fun?” Peter shudders, “I don’t know why chicks dig that.” 

“Are you critiquing reading preferences, Quill?” Steve tuts, “in a room full of readers and writers established and budding. Damn.” 

You shake your head disappointed at the judgement rolling off in waves from Quill. 

“Oh come on you gotta think it's a little messed up.” He defends. 

A chorus of boos ring. 

“Depends on what morals you follow.” You chuckle when you hear a hoot, “Morally grey tends to be a favourite colour.” 

“Rhys Bass! Baby!!!” A person calls out and everyone cheers. 

“Llyod Hansen!” Another person exclaims. 

Steve laughs, “I wouldn’t know where to place Llyod.” 

“Oh trust me, we do.” You answer on behalf of everyone. 

Bucky chuckles, Yelena looks at him. 

“Are you on the spectrum of morally dark colours?” She whispers. 

“Don’t think I am.” He laughs again. 

The interview goes on, the questions get directed more towards Steve. Quill shoots the random question to you but they aren’t about your book. 

Bucky’s hands are tight fists on his knees. What kind of blatant disrespect was going on?

Yelena sighs disappointed at the yet again horrible question,

‘Did you write the books because you felt sad you never had a long term boyfriend?’ 

‘How are the sex scenes so vivid?’ 

Bucky’s texting Sam, he wants to know everything there is to know about Peter Quill. 

“So Y/N, tell us, do you feel insecure about a woman like you being given such a huge platform for your book? I mean you clearly knew what would sell and from having a plus sized character to instead having smoking hot Dolores playing—,”

“I want to stop you right there.” You raise your hand to gesture Peter to shut the fuck up, “Your questions are highly disrespectful, yes multiple of them are disrespectful. Look around this room, genuinely, everyone here is from different backgrounds, cultures and sizes. You don’t get to sit there and make comments or assumptions based on how I look. Also, there is more to Dolores than her looks.” 

“Now you’re being rude, sweetheart, I’m just asking you simple questions.” Peter chastises, “It should be easy to answer.”

Bucky stands up, “And you’re an absolute gaslighting fucker.” He calls out. 

“Bucky Barnes?” Quill laughs, “Nice to see you man.” 

You shake your head, Steve looks at you then Bucky, finally to you. 

“Do you want to punch him or should I?” Steve rhetorically speaks while standing, rolling back his sleeves. 

“No, actually none of it. Everyone, I'm terribly upset that this event probably didn’t go as you wanted. I had big news I wanted to share but it seems Peter Quill can’t leave his investigative, intrusive, entertainment roots. Anyways to save Peter the trouble—,”

“Y/N.” Gidieon Mallick walks on stage cutting you off. 

You look at him. 

“Mr. Quill, please leave the stage. You’ve done horribly and not followed our given cue cards at all. Blatantly, disrespected one of our most prestigious authors. Ms. Y/N please be assured that you will be receiving an apology from him. Everyone, we will be taking a short break.” He announces, gesturing with his palm he asks you and Steve to follow him. 

The two of you follow and the crowd breaks out into chatter, Bucky, Yelena and Angel head out towards the two of you. 

You’re biting on your tongue while Gideon reprimands the interns and Peter Quill. 

Bucky catches the tail end of the conversation. 

“Absolute fucking atrocity! How can you go off script??” His skin tinged red as his anger grew. Steve rolls his eyes, as if this wasn’t what they wanted. Drama for more clout. 

“I really am sorry.” Peter looks at Steve and you. 

“Save it.” Steve says, grabbing your hand and leading you to your group. 

“So Bucky and Steve standing up for you is going viral already.” Angel informs you to look at her tiredly and then at the floor. 

“Are they going to talk about the new book?” You ask, she nods.

“The buzz is being generated enough, I’m hoping we can have no advance reader copies and the only sneak peeks that come are from you.” Yelena adds, you look at Bucky.

His scowl is trained on Quill. You move towards him, reaching for his hand. 

“James.” 

He recognises your tone, wanting him to dismiss the matter. 

“Feather.” He warns you as well. 

“Please?” You look up at him with a small pout. 

Bucky melts, rapidly the anger leaving him, “Fine.” He chuckles as you grin, having won your way. 

“Come here.” He says, tugging on your arm and you’re pulled against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, your shoulders drooped. Home. He’s home. 

“You’re home.” You mumble. 

Bucky kisses the top of your head. 

“As we have discussed and contemplated, we’re in agreement. An in-store release will ensure more buzz.” Gideon and his team are all smiles. 

Yelena looks at you then back at them, “Perfect, we’re glad we’re able to work in a way that caters to both the teams.” 

“It always is a pleasure working with you Miss Belova.” He moves his hand forward, she meets him halfway. 

“And Ms. Y/L/N we are positive the book is going to be a hit, our editor had some concerns but with the way HYDRA is climbing upwards we know this will only take us further on success. 

“I sure hope so.” You smile beaming brightly. 

“Well printing is well underway so we should have you start signing within the month for in store copies—,”

A chorus of phones chiming around the room occurs. Everyone’s devices in their hands. An intern swiftly moves to switch the TV on, the news reports flooding in,

“In a shocking revelation done by Peter Quill of Entertainment Today, he has uncovered the ongoing affair between Alexander Pierce and Actress Dolores. Sources wonder is this why she stays on projects even due to her diva behaviour? There is a thirty year age gap between them fans suspect predatory behaviour and the grooming of Dolores done by the decorated producer and owner of HYDRA—,”

The picture flashes and you have to clutch your hands tightly. It reminds you all too well of your own experience. 

“Switch to HYDRA.” Gideon sneers, the intern scrambles to switch. 

“In a horrible breach of privacy, our esteemed leader Alexander Pierce was found consoling a distraught Dolores and this story is being turned and twisted by entertainment tid bit and disgraced reporter Peter Quill, who, if you remember insulted Steve Rogers and Author Y/N Y/L/N publically at the announcement of her highly anticipated fourth book.” Sharon shakes her head disgusted at everything. 

“We have reached out to Mr. Pierce and Dolores to find out from the source the matter and set the record straight.” She adds, “For now I will allow my team to take over coverage of the forest fire crisis ongoing in Los Angeles.”

“See, nothing to be worried about.” Gideon smoothens his tie, giving a tight lipped smile. 

You nod. 

“I’m sure Mr. Pierce will explain.” Yelena adds. 

Peter Quill stares at the cops parading around his home and then the small little white powder bag they somehow found inside his home. He was good with this, never letting the party boy side of him touch the limelight in which he shined and thrived. 

Now he was sitting in a room in the police department. A camera in the corner turned off for privacy with his lawyer. 

“Mr. Quill, you have a phone call.” His lawyer hands him his phone. 

“Hello?” Peter greets.

“Mr. Quill, I suggest you heed this warning.” 

His eyes wide, the caller’s voice easily recognised. 

“I was doing my job.” He defends, “I was sent—,”

“Peter, save yourself some dignity, I know other things about you as well. We don’t want those coming to light do we?” Alexander chuckles. 

“N-no.” 

“Alright then, I’m sure your lawyer will be able to handle this matter. Consider this a final warning, Mr. Quill. I do not like my privacy invaded and after today I’m sure you will agree.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

Peter hands the phone back to his lawyer as the line goes dead. 

“I hope you recorded that.” Peter says, his lawyer smiles.

“I always do.” 

The dominos begin to fall. 

The first being Dolores and Alexander’s speculated affair. No matter how many times the two clarified the situation people wouldn’t let go. 

Edits of fans and experts of body language labelling Alexander as a predator. Dolores the victim. 

You swallow thickly as almost all of the signed on creatives of HYDRA were ushered into the auditorium housed within the headquarters. 

The issue was rapidly evolving and frankly getting out of hand. Interviews being stopped in the middle asking how the best of advocated actors, actresses, directors and producers are associated with this kind of man. 

All of your social media feeds were drowning under the comments, some very horribly rude and outright attacking you on a personal level. 

“I told you not to read them.” Bucky chastises from next to you. You tuck away your phone. 

“I can’t ignore it already. The whole mandate of saying nothing is annoying me, countless people want him to be taken down.” You complained to him. 

“I know it’s bothering me as well.” He sighs, grasping your hand gently, you feel the soft ridges of the metal as he rubs soothing circles onto the back of your hand. 

You stare at the limbs, just wanting to lift his hand and kiss it. Just to see the sweet flush that would coat his cheeks. Just to see that shy smile of his, just to admire him. 

“We’re in public.” He warns, reading your mind, “As much as I love you doting on me, I don’t think SHIELD—HYDRA,” He corrects himself,  “can tolerate another piece of drama.” He snorts. 

“Careful what you wish for,” Steve exhales loudly as he sits next to you, “dogs are sniffing around for something that might break the internet further than the current scenario.” 

You roll your eyes, “What are they going to do? Have them release more photos, of others?” 

“Possibly.” Steve gives an apologetic smile, “Angel’s heard conversation that maybe they might pitch the three of us being a throuple.” 

“The fuck?” Bucky says, you groan. 

“I don’t think we can take that news down like that.” You defend. 

“Well, think about it, over time speculation has happened.” Steve says you and Bucky exchange a glance. 

“People ship the two of us.” Bucky adds sharing a look with Steve. 

“Oh god.” You press your palms against your face. 

“This is not what I envisioned happening when I wrote Stucky x reader.” You mumble prompting Bucky to laugh. 

“I did like the werewolf one.” Steve praises, Bucky chuckles, nodding in agreement. 

Your head snaps towards Steve then Bucky. 

“You.” You glare at your boyfriend. 

“In my defence, Steve asked me about it first which is why I had to read it.” Bucky raises his hands. 

You turn to Steve, “You.” your tone is hopefully menacing. 

“Sorry.” The blonde says very unapologetically. 

The microphone feedback makes everyone look up at the stage, the three of you in the secluded corner watch on as the legal head of HYDRA, Schmidt is standing at the podium. 

“As you are aware of the recent negative light shed upon Mr. Alexander Pierce, we ask you all to check your emails for the social media statement that will be issued from all of your accounts over the next twenty four hours.” He concludes, hand running over his tie.

“We assure you that no predatory or grooming behaviour was done by Mr. Pierce.” He declares, “As you know a man of his stature and power will be cursed by the media and preyed upon by women who want money. Ms. Dolores has set the record straight and all will be well again for us. I hope there are no questions that would like to be asked by all of you.” 

The silence just continues on, no one dares to say anything. 

“Alright then, you’re all dismissed please post the message on your socials. It is mandatory on your contracts.” Schmidt completes then walks off stage. 

“Fucking hell.” Natasha’s voice has the three of you turn.

“Nat, pleasantly surprised you didn’t skip out.” Steve smiles at her, she rolls her eyes. 

“Mandatory meetings are all the fun.” She says, her gaze shifts to you. 

You offer a small smile, she looks back into her phone. Bucky’s hand rests on your shoulder to offer comfort. 

You look down at your phone, reading over the generic statement that provides a stance while saying you take no stance. 

“Miss Y/N?” 

Four pairs of eyes fall upon the intern as they clutch their folder tighter. You offer a smile. 

“Yes?”

“Mr. Pierce would like to see you in his office. I’m supposed to escort you there immediately.” They say, you nod. 

You feel Bucky tense behind you. His hand moving protectively to your shoulder. You place your hand upon his, “It’s just a meeting, I’ll call you okay?” 

You turn to meet his gaze, still unconvinced. 

“James.” 

“I’ll wait for you.” He declares. 

“As will I.” Steve adds. 

Gathering your bag, you step to the aisle. Natasha grabs your arm, turning you. 

“Since when?” She questions, green eyes trained on you, observing every little flicker of emotion running over your face. Through the cracks of your poker face. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Natasha.” You reply cooly, gently prying your arm out of her grip. 

“Y/N.” Her jaw tightens, eyes narrowing as she doesn’t buy your lie. 

“Nat,” Bucky calls out, distracting her enough to allow you a moment to slip away. 

“Bucky, you better tell me.” You catch her words, Bucky meets your eyes across the auditorium. 

Asking for your approval to tell her, you watch as Steve shakes his head. You look at Bucky, he gives a subtle shake as well. They’re against telling her. 

You shake your head as well, exiting the auditorium. 

The lift’s music seldom distracts you from the increased pounding of your heart. Each beat echoing across your form. You grip the support bar. Perspiration coating your palms. 

The intern regards you with worry, a tight-lipped smile doesn’t ease their concern. The ding announces your arrival to the floor. On cue your phone rings, discreetly you answer it from your watch. 

Bucky’s with you, he’s with you. 

Alexander’s assistant beams at you, heading to open the door. Heels clicking and adding to the dread flowing through your veins. 

He must know your plan. 

He must know what you’re trying to do. 

Dolores probably is his pawn. 

Another betrayal. 

Another fucking disaster. 

You’d lose everything. 

You’d lose Bucky. 

Your mind is the worst enemy and the best friend you could have. 

“Ah, there you are, have a seat.” Alexander says from the desk he’s perched upon, facing the chair he requests you to take. 

You sit, placing your bag down and turning your watch face inward. 

“I read through the manuscript, I think we have a hit on our hands.” He grins. 

You smile, “Thank you.” 

“Though towards the end, I see you changed the original direction you wanted to take, why is that?” His fingers drum along the mahogany table. 

“Did you not like it?” You ask, he leans in closer prompting you to shift back. He smirks, eyes tracing over you. 

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, sweetheart. What happened that night, is just insurance against your thoughts of insubordination towards me. Even if you would never, the thought can taint your mind.” He raises his hand, fingers stroking your cheek. 

You cower back further, fingers tightly gripping the handles of the chair.

“This is why I prefer Dolores, always so easy to manipulate and bend to my will and fancy. The mouth on her. Such a good little fuck. I wonder if you…” He hums.

“Please don’t.” You whimper. 

You feel him draw closer, “I won’t, as long as you keep your damn mouth shut. Now your little book’s rights are going to be bought but I’m going to sell them for a profit after the launch.” He shifts away walking to the drink cart. 

You watch him pour himself a drink. 

“I’ll provide you with a percentage to take care of your mother. After all, we're a family here at HYDRA.” He grins, you nod, “How is she?” 

“Doing better on the new medication regime.” You answer, his smile turns menacing. 

“Good, you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise that, would you?” He questions your integrity. 

“I won’t let anything happen to HYDRA.” You say, it pleases him. 

“Good, now run along. I’m eager to have you personally sign my copy once the printed books come out.” Alexander gestures with his hand for you to go out of the office. 

You scramble away, only when the elevator doors close do you breathe easier as the floors increase between Alexander and you. The doors open at the parking level. 

You’re tucked into the corner of the elevator. 

Bucky stands there, gaze trained upon you as you stand supported by the railing. He steps onto the elevator. 

Covering the distance to you, pulling you to his chest. Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders. 

He sighs once you’re safe in his arms, with him. Gently he cradles your jaw, making you look up at him. Stroking your skin with his thumb. His lips press to your forehead. Then brush over your lips. 

The doors open again, 

“Holy fuck!” The camera flashes. 

Bucky turns, lips no longer against your own he presses for the close door button but the paparazzi block it with their lenses and feet keep the doors pried open. 

You grab onto his jacket to prevent him from lashing out at them. Your phone chimes. Bucky looks down at the screen as well. 

From: A. Pierce 

You two can’t keep a secret, allow me to tell the world on your behalf. 

Unless you would prefer another few secrets revealed. 

Bucky looks back at your face, your hands shake. He closes his eyes, this is not what he wanted. Not how he wanted to reveal to the world he was yours. 

“Feather.” His voice anchors you over the increased roaring of the paps. 

You look up, “James.”

Soft lips press to yours, you close your eyes, allowing Bucky to guide you. Your palm cupping his cheek. 

You knew this kiss was his apology, his admission, his pain, his acceptance, his plea, his protection and his love. 

Bucky hopes you feel all that he wants to say to you. He hopes he hasn’t disappointed you, he hopes you understand. 

When you kiss him back, his shoulders sag with relief. 

He turns you away from their prying eyes, shielding you with his body. The security finally pulls the paps back allowing the doors to close. 

Bucky’s forehead rests against yours, you want to cry. This is not how the two of you envisioned the world knowing. 

Another moment stolen away. 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers, you only hug him tighter, hiding away yourself against his chest. 

Everyone on set regarded you differently. The crew whispered as the new couple passed by, Bucky holding your hand not letting go. He leads the two of you to the breakfast table. 

Steve, Loki, and Ace are waiting for you at the table. 

Natasha watched from afar, Maria shaking her head disappointedly. 

“What?” Nat questioned. 

“I hate when Alexander does this, uses the personal lives of people to his own gain.” Maria sighs. 

“What do you mean?” 

“The news with Dolores broke, I was with Alexander and Nick. Instead of trying to have things be smoother or address it. He wanted to know if anything was going on between them on set. Pulled information off of a crew member.” She explains. 

Nat’s gaze moves to the two of you, you both had been careful. She made sure you would get moments tucked away with Bucky. The senior staff are bound by ironclad NDAs. Though Alexander could have pressured anyone. 

The world hadn’t been kind. Questioning Bucky’s choice as well as your own. 

Then they’d say it was perfect, a broken imperfect man with an imperfect broken woman. 

Kind words lost amongst the sea of horrible words. So much so you had deleted the apps from your phone. 

Bucky had hoped to spare you from this part of his life. He knew you could take negative reviews or critique for your books. 

Over the past days he saw you reading everything discreetly. He wiped your tears, had you wipe his own. 

You knew people could be horrible, you’d seen it. Now you were living it. 

Reclusiveness had turned into a better option, words that you had learned to handle were overwhelming. 

You missed interacting with fans, they supported you. Several supporting your relationship, defending it as well from the haters and trolls. 

Sam wanted the two of you to issue statements or do an interview. Bucky was against it, the two of you were together, some would like it and several wouldn’t, he only cared about your wellbeing. If you wanted to speak to the world he would speak with you. 

For now he was supporting you in the chaos to which you were newly introduced towards. The move had helped Alexander no longer an article floated about his pictures with Dolores. 

“Imagine if it was the throuple thing?” Steve jokes, Loki glares at him. 

“Then you two would have to take turns cheering me up.” You add, Bucky snorts. 

“She’s making horny jokes, she’s really upset.” Ace remarks.

Loki shakes his head, “I thought horny jokes were her forte.” 

“They are, dirty fucking mind.” Bucky chuckles, you poke his cheek. 

“You love it.” 

“I do.” He kisses your cheek. 

“I’m happy though, you don’t have to shy away.” They grin, you smile. 

“Yeah it has its perks, not hiding.” You shrug then look behind Ace at Nat. 

“I want to speak to the two of you.” She says, “In private.” 

Bucky shares a look with you, the two of you follow Nat to her trailer. She locks it, a determined expression on her face. 

“Alexander was informed by a crew member about the two of you. I know we were discreet and we did everything we could to keep prying eyes away.” She states,

“I think it’s one of the core cast, Dolores yes but she already has everything on her plate. You two need to reevaluate the friendships forged.”

“Why are you worried?” Bucky raises a brow asking on your behalf, the two sisters had made their stances clear only wanting professional relationships with you. 

Nat exhales, “For whatever reason, you both are withholding information from me. When I asked Yelena and she kept her mouth sealed shut too, I understood it ran deeper than a surface level issue.” 

You seek out Bucky’s hand for comfort, his thumb strokes over your tattoo. He knew the action grounded you as well. 

“I want to apologise for the way I’ve acted, pushing you away. Being rude and frankly the opposite of the friendship I found with you.” She shakes her head disappointed at herself. 

“Nat…” you don’t know what to say to her. 

“I’m not seeking instant forgiveness. I know it will take time to repair things. I just, I know how he can be and yet I thought you were after the money.” 

You wince. 

“I’m sorry, I really am, I just want to get to the bottom of who is behind telling Alexander.” She presses, watching as Bucky and you share another glance.

“Look it was bound to happen, and we already have a plan to smoke the leak out.” He grins, you giggle.

Natasha regards the two of you perplexed by the positive attitude, a stark contrast to the way the two of you have behaved over the past few days. 

This was the next domino, have the public find out about the two of you. Dolores had been on your side, she wasn’t blabbing that much you knew, because the story was to be about the throuple with Steve and Bucky if it came from Dolores.

This much was sure that Alexander was being overly cautious. Which meant he would want to keep an eye on everything, which meant he would slip up.

“Well, if you need me to do anything, let me know.” She adds, you nod at her.

“I need you to continue being mean and reserved, I have to tell different people different things you said to us here.” You let her in on the plan.

“So just continue the way you are and we can always meet up privately.” Bucky shrugs at her.

“It's good seeing you this happy, Barnes.” She smiles at him, “You take care of her.”

“I’m trying every day.” His blue eyes gaze down at you, softening as he regards you being there in his life. Being his happiness, adding to it.

“You succeed everyday.” Your eyes find his warmth spreading through your chest at the love you feel just from his gaze.

“Alright then, now before the clothes come off, please leave.” Nat gestures to the two of you out the door.

“Bye, Natasha–,”

“Nat.” She corrects you trying to undo one step.

“Nat, I’ll see you on set.” 

She smiles as do you.

—-div

“Alright, we’re going to move in on Pierce tomorrow.” Darcy informs the three of you. 

“We want you all in a safer public space.” Scott adds, “I believe your book launch is placed appropriately?” 

You nod, “It's in place.” 

It had been almost a month and a half now since the book was cleared into printing. The movie schedule was constantly thrown off by Dolores to aid with the case’s timeline. 

Prompting Natasha to keep asking you to step in over and over so they could shoot the opposite cast’s scenes. 

The leak was in place tonight, the book had to tank. It was the only way you’d be able to free yourself. 

Andy and Matt were working hard on finding loopholes for Bucky and Steve. Most of the ways out however involved paying their way out. Signing another set of contracts that cut off their ways of income and working in the industry. 

“We have a lot of evidence against him, it will be a process to go through. Given his position and influence we anticipate a bail. However we anticipate travel restrictions so that he cannot flee the state or country.” Darcy takes a deep inhale then exhales slowly. 

“We have one chance. One. Are you three sure you want to come forward with everything he’s put you through? There are other victims who have said yes and others who have said no. We will not force you, you need to make this decision on your own.” She waits, observing the three of you. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time.” Dolores says, “I want him to rot and if he dies that's great too.”

“I’m in.” you answer. Everyone turns to the woman on the left. 

“We’ll take him down.” Maria Hill promises. 

The crowd is still there surprisingly despite the overnight leak. The night was filled with caffeine and chaos. A lot of people had downloaded the book based on the numbers Yelena had observed. 

Social media was in an uproar. People who read the leaked version, divided in opinion. Goodreads was getting reviews based on the leaks and trying to disregard them or block those to stop prompting readers to be tempted to read the book. 

Several accounts who made it their life’s mission to hate on you because Bucky was off the market were sharing download links to tank your ratings and for once you wanted them to not get blocked off. 

The outfit for today was cream pants that hugged your curves, paired with a navy top which was low cut but in a way that gave nothing away. It was teasing enough for Bucky. You chuckle remembering his expression at the fitting. 

Bucky stands before you with a small box in his hands. You raise a brow. It was five minutes till you had to go out to face the crowd at the bookstore signing. 

“Just, I had this made as a ‘happy book launch day’ gift.” Bucky swallows a sudden nervousness taking over him. 

“James, why are you nervous?” Your palm cups his cheek. 

The red flush takes over his features. He gnaws at his bottom lip, “I just—, I’m wondering if this was a good idea, I mean not the giving you a gift but the gift itself.” 

“James—,” 

“I just, I hope you like it and I know you don’t like the whole materialistic aspect so I tried to combine the emotional aspect too—,”

“Baby,” you place your free hand right over his sternum feeling his heartbeat against your palm, “I’m going to love whatever you have in that box. And the fact that you put so much thought into it? I already love it.” 

A smile breaks out across his features, the crinkles by his eyes enhanced and pure joy radiating from him. Handing you the box he moves to hold you by your waist, watching as you open it. 

The velvet is soft and you see a soft glimmer as the gift catches the light. He takes your gasp as a good sign, his nerves begin to settle. 

Across the box, lays a necklace, the pendant shaped like a quill, an exact replication of your tattoo. The shaft of it has a line of diamonds that reflect in the light. You look up at your man, not understanding why tears are gathering in your eyes. 

“It’s beautiful.” You whisper, “I love it, James… Thank you.” 

Bucky leans in brushing the escaped tear away from your cheek with his lips, “May I put it on you?” 

You nod, he gently takes the necklace from the box, moving behind you. He meets your gaze in the mirror. The soft metal touches your skin and he watches the pendant shift as he decides the perfect length to wear it upon. 

His fingertips trace along the nape of your neck to your shoulders. Bucky presses his lips to the crook of your neck, “Perfect even better than how I envisioned it.” 

Your hand moves to his hair, running your fingers through it as you turn your head to kiss him. Warm hands encircle around your waist yet again holding you close. 

Slowly your lips part, Bucky groans, watching the piece of jewellery nestle over your sternum drawing his eyes to your breasts. 

All too soon he has you pushed against the wall, lips latched to yours as his hands explore your body, cupping your breast and palming it. You whimper onto his tongue. It only urges him on. 

There is a knock on the door, “I hope y'all are decent.” Sam hopes to the heavens above. 

You make a displeased sound as Bucky pulls away from you, gently setting your legs down from where they were around his waist. 

“Patience, Feather.” He whispers, your hands roam over his chest. 

“What is it Sam?” He questions, blue eyes trained on your seemingly innocent face. 

You know the warning look. You don’t heed it. Your hands move to his belt buckle. To you Sam’s voice already drowned out. 

“Feather.” Bucky hisses as your index finger trails over his growing erection. 

“Don’t you want to see me just in the necklace?” You look up at him, pushing the fabric lower, allowing yourself to give him slow gentle pumps. 

Bucky’s hands come to rest on the wall on either side of your head, caging you in. You bite your lip, his eyes turning towards the stormy blue you loved, not the kind out of his anger but the kind born out of you making him unravel, turning him feral, needy. 

Bucky’s flesh hand grasps your neck. The thoughts begin to fly out the window from your mind. 

“Feather, don’t start something you won’t finish because if I have to take over. Everyone will know just by your stride that you got fucked in the green room by your man.” He squeezes gently, your palm squeezes his length. 

“You’re my good girl aren’t you?” 

You nod. 

“Words Feather, my good girl uses her words, even if she’s being a needy little brat.” He chuckles, if you turned him needy and feral for you he knew how to do the same to you. 

“Yes, your good girl.” You answer. 

You watch as he leans in, his breath fanning across your face, you just want to taste him.

“Can you both not?” Sam groans, “I cannot with you both right now, Y/N, you have to be out in five minutes. Stop letting him seduce you.” 

Bucky closes his eyes, you giggle as he withdraws his hand from your throat. 

“Feather, I know it's yours but you gotta let go of my dick please.” 

“Oh, oh,” your skin heats as you retract your hand helping him get decent. 

“For the record, you seduced me.” He narrows his eyes at you. 

“Hey, we both know you probably thought of me naked with only the necklace on before I suggested it.” 

His mouth hangs open, sputtering to cover up the clear truth. You cover your mouth to stop laughing out loud. Bucky shakes his head, a bemused grin on his lips. 

The door is opened to a disappointed Sam and Yelena staring at the two of you. Their arms crossed. 

“Just wanted to wish her good luck.” Bucky defends. 

“Right, and does that involve your fly being open?” Sam raises a brow, Bucky scrambles turning around then huffs. 

“It isn’t—,” he shuts up at Sam’s stern expression. 

Yelena raises her phone to her ear, “She’ll be out in thirty seconds.” 

Bucky pulls you close, lips pressing against yours in a quick kiss. 

“Good luck, Feather. Once we’re back home I’m going to tell you the reason behind your nickname.” He kisses you again, leaving you breathless grasping onto his shoulders. 

“Th-thanks.” You squeak out, he squeezes your ass, your eyes widen, skin heating, “J-James!” 

He only gives a wink coupled with a cheeking grin. As he follows Sam out you watch him walk backwards laughing at your befuddlement. 

“Ready?” Yelena questions, offering her hand to you as she always did, walking with you till it was your turn to venture alone. 

You grasp her hand, nodding, “As I’ll ever be.” 

There is a chorus of cheers when Yelena walks out to introduce your arrival. You spot Bucky, Sam and your mother sitting in a section reserved for family. It makes your chest warm seeing that area occupied finally. 

When you step out it’s as surreal as the first time, the cheers, the squeals, the happiness of your readers infectious. 

The first two hours are a blur of writing names, interacting, hearing the reader’s theories for the book and maybe a snippet of your next one. You take a sip of water as the line is held back for a moment. 

You grab the sharpie as the line begins again, 

“Hi, thank you for coming out to see me today—,” your mouth dries when you look up at the figure towering over you. 

“If you could make that out to Alexander Pierce, that would be great.” Alexander smiles at you. 

“A-alexander?” You find your heart plummet, he was supposed to be behind bars by now. 

He pushes the book across the desk. Nudging your frozen hands into action. Opening the book you write down, his name,

“How about a sweet message?” He raises a brow, “I am your boss after all.” 

“I um, sure.”

To Alexander Pierce, 

Your actions speak louder than my words, which is why people can hold them in their hands.

Regards,

Y/N 

He peers at the message, eyes narrowing then he smiles. He parts his mouth about to speak when you watch him descend onto your table headfirst. 

You shift back standing, the chair plummets to the floor. 

Darcy Lewis and Scott Lang stand behind Alexander, pressing him down on the table and extending his hands to cuff him. 

“Alexander Pierce, you’re being placed under arrest for multiple charges of sexual assault, blackmailing, non consensual administration of narcotics, and financial embezzlement.” Darcy speaks clearly, her voice ringing above the bookstore’s clamour. 

Alexander struggles in the grasp, “You’re making a grave mistake, Agent.”

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” She says, Alexander’s gaze locks on you. 

“You opened your mouth, didn't you? If I come to know you have, I’m going to ruin your life. You fat fucking slut.” He roars, Darcy presses his shoulders down to prevent him from getting up. 

Bucky’s cologne suddenly surrounds you. You look up, only to see his chin. He has you tucked against his chest protectively placing his arms around you. 

“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?” She waits for his response which is only laughter. 

“Oh Agent, you’re all going to regret this, don’t you know who I am?” He sneers. 

Darcy rolls her eyes, “Alexander Pierce, do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”

“I do.” He seethes, “I want my fucking legal team.” 

“We will contact them.” Scott says, they lift him up from the desk, he looks at Bucky. Anger coursing through his body. 

“I warned you Barnes. Now you will know the consequences.” The older man spits out. 

Bucky makes sure you cannot look at Alexander, palm blocking your head’s movement. 

“Are you threatening me? Mid arrest? I haven’t done anything to you Alexander. I have always respected you.” Bucky speaks, Alexander’s anger only grows, he’s dragged out. 

The bookstore grows quiet. Eerily so, the cameras still held up despite the FBI retreating and leaving. 

Bucky gently shifts from you, still holding your hands within his own. You regard the entire store only hoping the threats he made will reach online so they can be used in court as well. 

“Everyone I am so sorry, the event will have to be postponed to a later date. Those who did not get a chance to interact will have their tickets refunded. You will retain your book and the signing will take place at a later date.” A representative from HYDRA announces. 

Bucky leads you back inside the green room. Sam and your mom are already watching the news unfold on his iPad. 

She looks up at you demanding an explanation. 

“I’ll explain later, mum—,”

“What did he do to you?” She cuts you off. 

“Mum,” you swallow the lump forming in your throat. 

Her eyes move onto Bucky, “Why was he threatening you? You were supposed to take care of her.” 

He kneels in front of her, “I regret it everyday that I couldn’t protect her.”

“Mom it isn’t Bucky’s fault.” You sit next to Bucky grasping her other hand, “I’ll tell you everything. Just you cannot blame anyone but Alexander okay?” 

She regards the two of you, Sam shifts, “I’ll make sure the three of you have some privacy.” 

He walks out, shutting the door behind him. 

“Alright, tell me and no covering anything or hiding any details. I may be sick but I’m not weak.” She warns, “I didn’t mean to blame you Bucky, I just, she’s my only child.” 

“I know, I just, when I saw her that night, I blamed myself. I should have known better.” He sighs, you grab his hand with your free one. 

“We’ll tell you everything, if it becomes too much tell us to stop and we will.” He requests of her. 

“You will do the same.” She says, the two of you nod. 

HEADLINES:

Alexander Pierce Arrested At Signing Of Author Y/N’s Fourth Book

Dolores Looks Sombre Exiting The FBI Branch 

Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers and Other HYDRA Creatives Come Out In Support Of Long List Of Victims Of Alexander Pierce’s Abuse 

‘This Is A Shock To Me’ Says Ace In Recent Interview Praising Alexander Pierce

Author Y/N Continues Book Signings Amidst Ongoing Court Case — How Exactly Harrowing Was The Ordeal If She Can Function Normally?

Brock Rumlow Arrested In Conjunction With Charges Pressed Against His Uncle 

HYDRA Projects All Come To Standstill As Crews Organise Protests To Support Victims Os Sexual Assault. 

Bucky Barnes And Y/N Y/L/N Spotted Getting Cozy At His Favourite Restaurant, Onlooker Spills The Beans On Their Conversation.

A.N.: so the queue didn't work and i had other one shots as well prepped but nothing went through so i manually reedited everything since i lost most of it unfortunately, i hope you guys enjoy the chapter, i know sometimes its fast paced compared to slowburn, we're nearing the end of it

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