#thankfully everyone close to bruce knows this already

[chepib3]

big fan of when bruce tries to help others and he just ruins everything My poor wife that doesn't know how to communicate yes he will jump to conclusions and make decisons for you to sneakily control your life but please forgive him he's trying to show how much he loves you

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny's Grill Part 2

Special thanks to @mkarchin713 for letting me use their idea.

Tim's night had been hectic.

Not only have things at WE taken a turn for the worst due to some random influencer that decided Wayne Enterprises was the cause of global warming and convinced all his fans of the same- despite the fact they were the nation's leading company in green energy- sales have been down.

The board was breathing down his neck to fix the stocks while being no help at all to get the youth back on their side. He's already pulled twelve hours of overtime this week and it was only Wednesday.

He's been dealing with the PR nightmare while trying to get to the bottom of data theft across multiple big-name technology companies. Reports of scams and total funds lost were reported all through Gotham and only his city.

Tim suspects someone had been planting screen recording devices in one of Gotham's shipping factories before they left the buildings, stealing all the information from new buyers.

Since his theory is so hard to trace, he's been having difficulty pinpointing the base of operations, never mind having enough proof for his thesis. After Bruce's lost-in-time fiasco, Tim learns to have evidence before going to the family with anything.

So that means he's been trying to fight his way on his own, which usually isn't too much to handle, but stress and lack of sleep have really been slowing him down.

Thankfully, a specific food truck appears in his line of sight, and his mood improves drastically. He finds a safe roof to quickly change into his civilians, already fantasizing about what delicious food he would eat.

Dressed in his typical Alvin Draper disguise- black, almost second-skin tights and an oversized sweater- he all but skips to Danny's Grill.

"Night, Danny," He says, smiling at the back of the chef. He leans on the little extended table outside the truck's small window. He takes a sniff of the air, mouth watering at the scent.

Looks like tonight is cheeseburgers, as Danny carefully flips some patties. Danny whirls around with a smile of his own, only to drop the spatula in horror.

"Alvin! What happened!?" Danny shouts, nearly flinging himself through the tiny opening. The vigilante blinks in confusion before catching his reflection in the napkin dispenser.

In his haste to have some of Danny's food, he forgot to cover up a black eye, swollen right cheekbone, and busted lip from his last faulty lead. A goon had gotten him by surprise and had nearly rearranged his face before he was able to get his wits about him.

"Nothing, really; it comes with the job, you know?" Tim tries to play off, laughing nervously when Danny's expression crumbles into pure rage. "Look, it's no big deal-"

"How can it not be a big deal!? Half your face is swollen!"

That happens when someone hits you with a metal pipe in the face. He thinks hysterically. "I've had worse."

"That's not comforting!" Danny screams, throwing off his apron. "Let me close down, and I'll take you to a doctor-"

"No hospitals. They'll ask where I got this, and I can't answer that." Tim cuts in, voice hard. There is a tense moment where he thinks Danny will force him to go anyway, but after a moment the other man growls slamming his hands on the counter.

"Fine. Fine. No hospitals. At least let me ice it." It takes everything in Tim not to shrink back from the hateful tone. He barely has the mind to nod as Danny quickly unlocks the little door that leads into his truck, ushering the Bat inside with barely controlled rage.

He knows it's not aimed at him, but being around someone so upset makes his skin crawl. Tim has problems with offending people; his parents had been masters in drilling into him from a young age.

That's why Tim always sought the approval of everyone around him, even if he couldn't stand the person.

He has been working on it, but old habits died hard.

"Sorry." He mumbles as Danny quickly gets a zippy bag full of ice.

"Don't. Apologize." Danny bites before taking a large breath, clearly trying to calm down. He gently places the ice against Tim's cheek, staring at him with such tender worry Tim can't help but feel butterflies. "You don't have to apologize for getting roughed up. Never. Okay?"

Tim nods, shyly looking away as his stomach is rapidly overrun by even more butterflies. "Okay."

"Come home with me." Danny suddenly blurts as if the words were forced out of him. He looked just as surprised by them as Tim was.

"What?"

"Just for tonight. Just so I know you're safe." Danny all but pleas, and Tim- well, Tim has never been known to be strong enough to resist his impulses. Sure, the family might worry, but he can send them a message claiming to be undercover, and frankly- it's been so long since Tim's had a break.

He's always wanted to know more about Danny outside his food truck. He hadn't been able to find much on him. Tim is a detective by heart. He wants to know everything there is to know about Danny Fenton.

"I can leave when I want." He says, as Danny carefully places a warm hand on his other cheek. "And I sleep in my own space. No bed sharing. I also want to take a shower but I don't have anything to sleep in."

"You can borrow something of mine/ Whatever you need." The words are practically a warm hug, and Tim feels relaxed. Already the shitty week feels less terrible, and he finds himself growing bold enough to take an obvious sniff of the air.

"Can I have a burger?"

There is a hint of an amused smile, but it does not cover up the worry. "Of course you can."

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

The shower is running in Danny's house.

It's a bit out of the way, about a forty-minute drive outside of Gotham limits, but it's spacious and private, just the way Danny liked it.

Ever since he inherited his title, he's found this house on the list of properties, and that was why he chose to take Gotham by storm in his little truck.

Danny isn't really sure what the story of the property was- the suspects the place was built around the same time Gotham got its curse; seeing as it was overseeing the city and had enough natural ectoplasm in the air, he would suspect the curse affecting the town lead to here. He never cared to check.

No, rather Danny had some ghosts remodel the old building to include wiring and functioning plumbing but asked that the general overall of the mansion stay the same.

He sort of like pretending to be a Lord of the Oldden days. If anyone asked if he walked around acting out old romances of the Victorian era, that was not else business but his own.

Alvin was undoubtedly impressed when they pulled up to his house. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so prideful to have the handsome man be impressed with his mansion given the circumstances.

He seemed to accept the excuse of having been willed the house by his late grandfather. He just hoped Alvin didn't think him the same as his wealthy clients.

Speaking of, he better make the call before Alvin finished.

Stepping to his balcony, he pulled out his burner phone and pressed the speed dial five. There are four rings before the call connects.

He gets no greeting, but he's not expecting one. Danny looks over his shoulder to ensure the bathroom door is connected to the master room- his bedroom, where Alvin will be staying, seeing as it has a bigger fireplace. He needs to have them install a heating system. Danny never bothered, what with his ice core and all- before he spoke.

"Hey, Red Hood, it's Danny. I'm calling in that favor."

There is a long pause before the other man grunts. "What is it?"

"My friend is a pro whose pimp or johns have been abusing lately. Can you help me....take care of the issue? I don't want to overstep in his life, but I'm pretty sure they broke his check bone tonight, and he claimed to have had worse before." Danny sighs, his stomach overturning at what that could mean. He hasn't gone out as Ghost King to show those assholes a thing or two because this isn't his haunt.

It's Red Hood's.

Danny had met the other man when a rouge attack had busted up all the main highways he usually worked in and had no choice but to try to sell in Crime Alley. He was right off the territory's edge, freaking out about entering without the main ghost's permission, until Red Hood confronted him.

Danny's frantic fretting had been suspicious enough that the main honcho had gone to find out why he was so nervous.

They worked a deal where Danny would sell his ware in peace, and as long as he let kids eat for free, Red Hood had no quarrels with him. He even got a favor from the crime lord after Danny provided free meals to some of his men's families struggling to get food a few months back.

He also allowed Hood to use his house as a safe house to hide a few people who needed to be out of the city. Is he part of Red Hood's gang? No.

Is he an alley? Yes.

Danny had been saving the favor for such an occasion.

There is silence on Hood's side, so Danny goes in for the kill. "My friend is seventeen; in a few months, he'll be eighteen, but he said he has been doing this since he was younger."

The silence is now laced with malice. If there was one thing they both agreed on it was that kids were never meant to be hurt by the scum of the city. "Give me his name and the area he usually works in."

"Alvin Draper. He changes per night, but I've often seen him on the east side of Crime Alley."

"I'll look into it. Is Alvin safe?"

"Yeah, he's going to be staying with me tonight. Don't come by until I convince him to extend his stay." Danny knows Hood will understand. This is one of many pros to see the Zone- his mansion's name- as a sanctuary.

"That's fine. Can you get me a picture of Alvin?"

"No, he's too skimmish."

Hood grunts again, his voice coming out tired despite the voice monitor. "Kids always are. I'll have my boys find Alvin's primp and johns. Ensure there aren't any other younglings before they make them swim with the fish."

Danny almost falls over in relief. "Thank you. Alvin...Alvin means a lot to me."

" Don't mention it. Stay well, Victorian."

Victorian is the code name Hood has given him to ensure Danny isn't tired of his gang. Yes, it's because his house is a Victorian mansion, but Danny also likes to think it's cause the other man appreciates the aesthetics of his house a little too much.

He once caught Hood admiring his Pride and Prejudice hardcover book displayed in his green sitting room.

"You too Hood. And thank you."

How would he convince Alvin that his house was a better place to call home than the orphanage and street corners without coming off as a wannabe savior or hopelessly in love creep?

Danny pauses at his own train of thought.

Hopelessly in love? He thinks in shock as the bathroom door swings open, and out comes Alvin, dressed in Danny's extra pajama set. He offers Danny a shy smile; even with the injuries, it is the loveliest sight he's ever seen, and- oh no, Danny is in love with him.

"You up for a late-night snack?" He asks, trying to not show the world-shattering realization on his face, and Alvin's smile grows wider.

"You're going to make me fat." The other laughs. Danny's heart skips a beat.

Danny Fenton loves Alvin Draper and will do everything he can to protect him. Even if Alvin will hate him for it.

[flamingpudding]

Part 5 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

For those that ask, yes an AO3 link is in the works. I will post it once its ready. Also fair warning, I will be focusing on DPxDC Family Week now so I have no idea when the next part will be up.

<<1 Previous Next

Thrill and chirp brother

Tim sipped on his n-th cup of specially made Tim-brand-not-Alfred-approved coffee as he shuffled into the dinning room and sat down on the breakfast table. The moment he sat down he opened the laptop again and stared at its screen for a couple of seconds. The scan of the post-it note got nothing. None of the squiggles was recognised in any of the so far known languages. Hell he even ran it through the leagues recordings of interdimensional and interplanetary known languages. No hits so far. Right now he was running a picture recognition program to see if any of these had appeared before it was on 90% with nothing found so far.

Good he hoped this really was just a prank from Cass and Steph. Because if it wasn't, Bruce would go nuts and overly paranoid as well as up the entire Manors security system a third time this month. Sadly, despite his hope, Tim knew that it wasn't a prank.

A cough resounded behind him and Tim blinked two times before sighting, closing the laptop and pushing it only a couple of inches away from him as Alfred put a plate with his breakfast before him. Knowing Alfreds rules about work at the table he would better not touch it again for now.

"Replacement, you look like the dead walking. Did you even sleep last night?" He glared at his brother before he blinked taking in his surroundings before his eyes rested on little Danny.

Tim could see that all of them, despite barely knowing the kid for a couple of hours, had already become attached to Danny. It didn't help that they had discovered Lichtenberg scarring running up Danny's left arm all the way to where his heart was after the child had finally let Damien take care of him. Hell Tim wanted to know who would give a child, a once dead then revived one, scares like that. If Talia had let the kid go through some sort of experimentation…. Well Tim knew where the explosives were stored and by the looks of it he probably could count on Jason's as well as Dick's help to blow up a league facility.

Either way Damien had become very protective of the child. The scarring didn't help calming that protectiveness either. In fact he was pretty sure it steered it more in the rest of them too. Also the fact that Danny spat out glowing Lazarus Water once they managed to wrangle the kid off Jason last night wasn't calming down a different kind of worry anytime soon either. No, it was another factor next to the scarring that spoke for the League having experimented on the poor child. He probably should start investing more time into what sort of facilities the League had built or was using lately.

On a good note, thankfully Danny had let up on Jason after he spat out the green goop and thanks to the fact that he apparently recognised Damien, let said teenager manhandle -cough- take care of the little biter for the rest of the night. It also seemed like the little guys biting obsession with Jason had calmed down, for now. He didn't trust the calm, especially not with the way Danny was still focused on his second oldest brother. Though everyone except for the demon brat was still getting the hissing treatment. Considering his theory that the League probably used the revived child to experiment with Lazarus Water, it wasn't that much of a surprise. Anyone would be feral after being subjected to experiments.

Thankfully it looked that whatever Pit Madness had overcome the child last night was not reacting towards them. But as he watched Dick trying really hard not to pout at Damien who had Danny in his lap in a protective hold, he wondered how long that would hold. Jason sat as far away from Danny and Damien as he could, probably because of the way the child was watching him with glowing blue eyes while munching on whatever food Damien gave to the little biter.

He could also see the reason for Dick's pouting as the elder reached out to attempt to ruffle Danny's hair but the child instantly snapped his head in their eldest brother's direction, hissing, bearing his teeth and even snapping at the air until Dick withdrew said hand again. A pout very evidently on his face. Like a switch flipped the child's focus would then redirect to watching Jason like a hawk again and munching on the food the Demon brat gave him.

At least he was the bitey type that would hiss as warning and not the stabby kind without warning like Damien.

"Yo, anyone at home up there?"

Turning his focus back to his second oldest brother Tim glared at him once more. "If you have to know. Yes I did sleep last night."

"More than one hour?" Dick asked next and Tim refused to look at the eldest. He was not going to answer that. He had coffee, who needed sleep when you have coffee. Besides, he was a perfectly functioning human being even with minimal amounts of sleep. He had not face planted his breakfast for three days now.

"What got you so obsessed that you didn't sleep, Drake? Another case? Or did you try to find out more from the League in regards to Danyal's scars?"

"That too but mostly the post-it note." He finally answered after stewing a little longer under the stares of his siblings. "Neither our nor the JL's language recognition programs got a hit and right now I am running a picture recognition to see if there ever was any kind of writing like that found before but it ran up to 90% before I came down and hadn't found anything like that before. And-"

"Slow down there Timber. I thought that's just a prank from Cass and Steph?" Dick interrupted him and Tim suppressed a groan.

"It couldn't be. I wish it was but both of them weren't in the Manor last night and I don't think Duke would do something like this so-"

"Hold up." Jason cut in and Tim glowered at them for getting interrupted again.

"What do you mean no language recognition program got a hit?"

"It means that there is no languages to translate-"

"Why would you need that? Yea its cryptic as fuck but its clearly written out!"

"Jason what are you talking about?" He opened his laptop again, turning the screen so it was facing Jason. "These are squiggles! How is it readable?!"

"The fuck you talking about?! Don't tell me your sleep deprived mind doesn't know how to read anymore?"

"Jason what does it say in your eyes?" Dick carefully cut in before Tim could question the other any more.

"'The daylight knight will tell the truth with eyes that see the light'. See cryptic as fuck." The older gesticulated towards Tim's laptop screen while Damien raised an eyebrow at him.

"The what now, will tell what?" Dick asked confusedly while Tim turned the laptop back towards him noting down what Jason just said. He was confused as to why Jason was able to read the squiggles but at least that gave him some kind of hint about the post-it. Aside from adding more questions to the already growing pile.

Suddenly a thrilling noise echoed in the room and the four looked at Danny. The child's now green eyes were focused on Jason. Tim could see Damiens hold tightening and Dick tensing when they noticed the green. Danny repeated the same nose he made earlier, still intensely staring at Jason.

"Who the fuck is clockwork?"

The green fated and Danny made a similar noise to chirping, his head tilting in confusion.

"The fuck you mean you don't know? You just said that Clockwork wrote the note?!"

"Todd. Did you just understand the noise Danyal was making?"

Once again the three of them stared at Jason who looked at them confused. "You didn't?"

They shake their heads and Jason let out a frustrated groan as he sat back down his head in his hands. "What did you assholes hear just now?"

"Danyal made some kind of thrilling, then chirping noise."

"Well I heard him say that someone named Clockwork wrote the note and then he said all confused that he doesn't know who Clockwork is." He looked at them frustrated. "Why do I hear the kid speak and you guys don't. You're his fucking twin, right? Shouldn't you know what the brat is saying?"

Damien glowered at their brother offended but didn't retort anything. Tim did see a hint of frustration with their formerly youngest and he could guess. Damien was most likely frustrated about the fact that Jason understood his twin's noises and he didn't. The only thing stopping him from possibly hurling the breakfast knife at Jasons, was most likely his hold on Danny.

Tim also thought about the fact for a while until it suddenly hit him. He looked up and made eye contact with Dick who most likely came to the same conclusion. The two turned towards their siblings.

"The Lazarus Water." Tim carefully offered, watching Jason and Damien tensed slightly.

"What about it?" The second oldest scoffed, turning his attention towards them.

"That's what you two have in common. Both of you got revived and came back through a Lazarus Pit. You still have the Pit in your mind right? And Danny most likely also has a lot of it in his system. It even mixed with his DNA."

After a beat of silence Jason let out a hearty groan. "Fuck. So because of the Pit I understand thrill and chirps now? Just fucking great!"

"Probably can speak it too if you try. That would be pretty cute. Come on, say something in a chirp!" Leave it to Dick to try to lighten the mood, though the glare Jason sent the eldest did make Tim hide a chuckle. He had to admit imaging Jason talking in chirps was a funny image. Should his brother ever do that he would need to make sure to take a video for his black mail folder.

"I will fucking not!"

"Come on, don't you want to communicate properly with our little teethling here?"

"Fuck off Dick!"

"You have to try it Jaybird! For little teethling!"

"Richard." Damien warned but Tim could only snicker as he watched Dick reach out to pat the kids head carelessly, apparently not hearing the warning nor hissing as the elder was too engrossed in convincing Jason to talk in chirp.

Dick let out a shriek of pain.

"Ha! Not so fun getting bitten is it now?" Jason laughed gloating with the fact that for once he was not the biting target.

Tim winched the moment he saw Danny clamp down with his sharp teeth on Dick's hand. Damien was instantly scowling both of them but the little biter refused to let go. He saw Alfred approaching the three and instantly stood up from his chair with a warning on the tip of his tongue as the butler reached out towards Danny.

"Master Danyal." Stunned and frozen the four brothers watched how the butler fearlessly patted the child's head who only let out a small hiss in acknowledgement, teeth still digging into the eldest brother's hand. "I request you let go of Master Dick's hand. I fear it will not taste as well as this snack I have prepared for you."

In an instant Danny let go and chirped, turning his attention towards Alfred who was still patting the child's head without getting hissed at or being in risk of getting bitten. Damien even let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you Pennyworth."

Dick was now cradling his hand, pouting and mumbling something about unfairness at the three as Jason laughed. Tim too couldn't help but chuckle, of course Alfred somehow became an exception towards Danny's biteyness.

It was at that moment that Duke entered the room, took one look at them, blinked, rubbed his eyes and then turned around and left again muttering something about it being too bright and early for any of this.

[lazycats-stuff]

Heyo, can I ask for a bat!bro reader who’s around 16 or 17 and they find out that he smokes and drinks? And sometimes some drugs. And he (tries to) hide it from everyone?

If not it’s ok, and I hope ur doing good. Can’t wait to see what you write 🫶

Sure thing. I don't personally drink or smoke, even though I am an adult, but those are things that are prominent in my country. Some people start earlier even... I have digressed, my apologies.

Summary: (Y/N) smokes and drinks. Sometimes experiments with drugs. The problem? He is underage.

Warnings: smoking, underage drinking, DRUGS, experimenting, hiding all of that, lying, partying, cursing

(Y/N) knew that Bruce would kill him if he found out. He knew that sneaking out is not going to pass with Bruce and it could get him punished until he is an adult. But this party he is going to is going to be the best party of the century.

And he didn't want to be the party breaker. His friends were going to be there too and he was going to be damned if he is going to miss it. Thankfully, there wouldn't be anyone in the manor and it would be easier to get out.

They have all made a plan to drive (Y/N). His friend, well, the chauffer of the group, would drive up to the manor, but stay away far enough from the look of the cameras.

But the thing that Bruce would kill him for is his drinking and smoking. And occasional drug use too. But his life is too stressful. Why, I might hear you asking?

Well, the constant pressure of being a son of Bruce Wayne, constant eye of the public on you and constant pressure of being perfect. He turned to smoking first.

It was a way to just let go first. If he took liquor from the cabinets, Bruce and Alfred would know all of it and then he would be in deep shit. He wouldn't be allowed to leave the manor or have any contact with anyone.

He would be on house arrest for the next 2 years.

He took a cigarette and his favorite lighter. But the problem is that there are going to be the people he hates. So he needs to destress before he goes. He opened the window, letting the the cold air in and to let the smoke out.

He put it in his mouth, bringing the flame of the lighter towards his cigarette. He took a long drag, before letting it out. He learnt to let the smoke out in cool ways too, so that was fun to learn.

He let the smoke out through his nose, almost like a bull in the cartoons. He smoked near the window so that the smell could get out.

He sat on the floor, leaning on the wall, his right arm leaning on the window, making sure that the cigarette was out on the roof and that the ashes were falling down on the roof.

He looked at the phone, his friends texting him that they have started going to the manor. (Y/N) just said, okay and shut the phone down. He smoked for 15 more minutes before extinguishing the cigarette on the roof. He stood up and threw it on the roof.

He put the jacket on and started walking towards the front door. He stepped out in the cold air, sighing. Winter has finally come and it will only get worse. He walked to the big gates and pushed them with a little bit of struggle.

When he was out of the property lines, he closed them again. He walked down, zipping his jacket up and then putting his hands in his pockets.

He ran towards the car, getting into the back seat.

" Hello (Y/N)! You ready? " His friend asked and (Y/N) nodded, accepting a bottle of whiskey from his other friend. He took a long swig before giving it back to the front.

" This is party to remember. " The chauffer friend said, getting to the city already.

" I don't think that we will remember it by the morning. " (Y/N) said, smirking at his own joke. The other two laughed too.

This is going to be a night to remember.

(Y/N) finally let loose. A cup of some sort of alcohol in his hand, a cigarette in the other. The music was reverberating through him and he finally enjoyed himself. A few minutes ago, he snorted some cocaine and it made everything ten times better.

He danced with a random boy, just having fun. They rubbed against each other, kissing each other. (Y/N) didn't even know his name, but that didn't matter.

He was cute and really nice to him.

And more importantly, he went to (Y/N)'s school so he was definitely going to hang out and exchange their numbers since (Y/N) didn't have any social media.

It was all well until the sirens were heard. What the actual fuck? Since when does GCPD answers these types of calls? The rest of the time went by in a blur.

" Where is he? " Jason asked as they all ransacked the house for (Y/N).

" The footage shows him leaving around a couple of hours ago. " Tim chimed in, looking at the footage on his phone.

Dick looked at (Y/N)'s room. It looked clean and he started looking for some clues. He looked under the bed, in the drawers and then he looked through the window.

Why would the window be open?

He froze when he saw the cigarettes. What in the hell is going on? Nobody smokes in the family. Jason smokes at his own apartment and the others don't do it.

Damian decided to look at the outside, more so where he was last seen. He walked down, huffing at the stupidity of his brother. He stopped when he saw tire tracks. Somebody picked him up.

Alfred and Bruce guessed that it was just a normal sneaking out thing. Bruce thought about it and he thought about the way to ground his son.

This is insane. Alfred and Bruce waited in the kitchen.

" Alfred, what is going on? " Bruce asked, sighing.

" I don't know sir. But he looked off sir. I swore I could smell cigarettes on his breath, but it was so faint... " Alfred said, rubbing his forehead.

" Somebody drove him. " Damian said, huffing from running back to the manor. Bruce nodded. He didn't do it alone. Okay.

He stepped away when his phone rang. Everyone else joined Alfred and Damian. They wondered where Bruce went and what was going on.

" (Y/N) is in jail. " Bruce said and Jason's jaw dropped. Damian was also shocked, but didn't show it. Tim and Dick looked at one another in shock too.

" What the actual fuck? " Jason asked and for the first time, Alfred didn't say anything.

(Y/N) sighed quietly as he sat in the cell. Turns out that the person who hosted had parents who were drug dealers. And he went to their party. By now, Bruce knows and they have notified him. He knew that there would be no talking his way out of this.

He put his head in his hands, cursing underneath his breath.

If he finds out about cocaine, he is going to get killed. Not only by Bruce, but also by Alfred too. Alfred is going to crucify him if he finds about the cocaine. Oh God please don't let them find out.

" Come on Wayne. " The officer said and (Y/N) had to take a deep breath. He felt dizzy from the alcohol and the cocaine. Oh no.

If he passes out, they will take him to a hospital.

He saw Bruce and he looked pissed. (Y/N) tried to say something, but he stopped due to the black spots. Bruce called him, but (Y/N) was falling by the time Bruce came.

Everything went black and (Y/N) lost consciousness.

(Y/N) woke up later in a hospital bed. He blinked tiredly, freezing when he saw Bruce in the chair.

" You had to have your stomach pumped. " Bruce started and (Y/N) swallowed with a lot of difficulty. " You had a lot of alcohol in your system and you were close to being in a way more serious predicament. " Bruce said standing up.

" But the thing that nearly sent me to the grave is the fact that you used cocaine. " Bruce said through his teeth, now enraged.

" How long? " Bruce asked, taking a breath to try to calm down.

" It's not regular. It's just a few times. " (Y/N) admitted, looking down at his hands. He was ashamed so much that he couldn't look Bruce in the eyes, his own father.

" And the smoking? " Bruce asked, crossing his arms. " Alfred said you smelt of cigarettes and Dick found your 'ashtray'. " Bruce said, using air quotes on the word ashtray.

" I'm sorry. But it's stressful being your son. " (Y/N) tried to explain himself, but Bruce put his hand up.

" I know. It's not easy. But you could have come to us and we would have helped you. " Bruce said, rubbing his forehead. " I don't think I need to tell you that you are going to be grounded. I love you, but I have to nip this in the bud. No going out, all the technology is going to be taken, the only route you will have is school and manor. " Bruce stopped for a moment. " You broke our trust with your unhealthy habits and you need to earn it back. And more importantly, there is no patrol until you get yourself in order. " Bruce said and (Y/N)'s first tears fell.

(Y/N) loved patrolling and this was a nasty hit. Everything else, he could live without it. But patrol? No.

Bruce saw it and knew that patrol punishment did it. He gently embraced his son and (Y/N) cried softly into his chest. Bruce knew that tough love was needed in this situation. He never really used it with others, but now it was needed.

" You are going to get through this and you will be okay. " Bruce comforted, giving him a kiss on the head.

[envysparkler]

“Got Scarecrow,” Nightwing chirped through the comm, accompanied by a stream of mad rambling about worst nightmares and reliving terror that thankfully cut off when Crane was passed off to the police.

“Everyone, report,” Bruce ordered, finishing with the zipties around the hands of the last of Scarecrow’s thugs.  The battle had been hectic, and Bruce had lost sight of all his children during the melee.

“Nightwing, heading away from the police, no injuries.”

“Robin, southwest corner, no injuries.”

“Robin, you have a sprained wrist,” Nightwing chided.

“No injuries,” Robin snapped.

Bruce suppressed his sigh and dropped down to the alley where his eldest and youngest were bickering.  “Red Robin, report,” Bruce reminded across the comms, before kneeling to check Robin’s wrist.

It was sprained, and Bruce called the Batmobile to their location instead of letting them grapple back to it, ignoring Damian’s pointed huff.

“Red?” Nightwing said warily, and Bruce felt an icy curl of dread in his stomach.  “Red Robin, check in.”

No response.

“Who last had eyes on him?” Bruce asked, heading back into the warehouse and ignoring the police picking over the scene.

“I lost him at the start, I was trying to stay close to Robin,” Nightwing said, following him.

“I saw Red near Crane,” Robin huffed, “The next time I looked, Crane was alone.”

“Red?” Bruce called again, scanning the warehouse for any hint of red-and-black in the shadows, his unease growing stronger.  Crane had been raving about the prototype of his new toxin, had Red Robin—

A ping sounded, and Bruce pressed the button to connect to whoever was trying to reach him—had Red Robin’s comm been accidentally disconnected during the fight?

“Will someone,” Jason’s growl cut through the comms, “Tell me how the hell—” he sounded furious, and an alarm started blaring in back of Bruce’s head—“The Replacement knows where I live?!”

“Hood?” Nightwing froze, twisting to look at Bruce—he didn’t need to see past the mask to know that Dick’s eyes were wide and worried.

“What is Red’s status?” Bruce asked, wincing when it came out more like a demand—Jason’s temper was fickle at the best of times, but if he was already in a bad mood, then Bruce was one misstep away from waking up to see half of Gotham levelled.

“He broke into my safehouse while I was sleeping,” Jason snarled, “What do you think his goddamn status is?”

Not good.  Very not good.  They had all breathed a sigh of relief when Jason decided to stay off patrol due to his broken ribs, and doubly so when they received word that Crane had broken out of Arkham.

“Hood,” Bruce tried as they exited the building—Jason had safehouses scattered all over Gotham, and Bruce was sure he didn’t know about half of them.  “Where are—”

“Robin?”  That was Tim’s voice, echoing oddly through the line.

“The demon brat’s bedroom is on the other side of the city,” Jason snapped, and Bruce registered the too-fast breathing and desperately wished he was standing between his sons.

“Hood, Red might’ve been hit with fear toxin,” Bruce managed to get out, but it didn’t do anything to calm Jason down.

“So, what, he came here to finally finish off the big, bad Hood?” Jason sneered, and it was difficult enough to talk Jason down when he was standing in front of Bruce, Bruce had no idea how he was going to do it over the comms.

Jason, stop he discarded.  Wait, Jason listen except Jason wouldn’t definitely not listen.  Jason, please but Jason would take offense at that.  Don’t murder your brother was unlikely to be received well.

“Hood, just tell us where you are,” Nightwing tried, “We’ll get him out of your hair, I promise.”

Jason inhaled sharply and Bruce inwardly winced, waiting for the diatribe—

“Robin,” Tim sounded distant and choked, “Help.  Please.”

Damian jolted forward, visibly surprised.

Jason’s connection closed with an audible click.

Bruce stared at Nightwing and saw his own trepidation reflected in his son’s face.

~#~

It took them twenty minutes.  Twenty minutes of Oracle hacking the security cameras to figure out where Tim had fled, twenty minutes to confirm that one of the prototype vials of fear toxin was missing, twenty minutes to listen to Crane’s cackling about trapping people in one of their worst memories.

Between Tim and Jason, there was enough past trauma to cause several murders.  Everything about Jason’s past was a landmine, and while Tim was usually good at navigating it—better than Bruce, at any rate—he would be oblivious while trapped inside his own head.

Finally, Oracle managed to catch Tim slipping into a side street in Crime Alley, and not appearing out the other side.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Nightwing murmured as they followed the coordinates, “You know how protective Jason is over his safehouses—”

“When Hood stops being an insane murderer, he can have his privacy back,” Robin snapped.

“Come on, baby bat, Jason won’t actually hurt Tim,” Nightwing said quietly, “He just needs some time to calm down and get out of his bad mood.”

“Drake is currently drugged and vulnerable, it would be the height of foolishness to place your faith in his continued survival in the hands of Todd,” Robin sneered, taking the fire escape down, and Nightwing shot a startled glance at Bruce before following after him.

Jason’s apartment was the third one Bruce checked, and he felt the tension in the air as the window slid open with a near-soundless squeak.

“Get out,” Jason said, voice low and rough, before Bruce had even cleared the threshold of his room.

“Jason,” Bruce started, slow and quiet, but Jason cut him off.

“Get out,” Jason snarled, but his voice cracked halfway through and Bruce stepped inside the bedroom, alarmed.

“Jason?” he called out, finding the curled up figure in the shadowed corner.

“You found him,” Nightwing said breathlessly, and Damian shoved past him with a terse, impatient sound.

“Get. Out,” Jason snapped, his breath…hitching.  He sounded like he was crying.

Bruce immediately turned to find the lights.

Jason was sitting, back pressed to the corner, with Tim in his lap, head pillowed against his brother’s chest.  The mask was gone, as was the cape, and Tim blinked open half-closed eyes at the sudden emergence of the light.

Jason was hunched protectively around him, a glare already forming on his face, but there were splotches of color on his cheeks and his eyes were suspiciously shiny.

“Robin,” Tim breathed out as soon as he saw Damian, reaching out a hand.  Damian stared at him, clearly taken aback, but shuffled forward until he was close enough to touch.  Jason watched them both with narrowed eyes.

Tim made a half-lunge forward, snagged Damian’s cape and dragging the younger boy into an embrace as he curled back into Jason.  Damian squawked, but Tim was holding him too tightly—Damian would have to break something to get out of his grasp.

They could all see the exact moment that Damian realized this and subsided with a scowl.

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 3

Part 1|Part 2

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

I'm not entirely happy with this, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Some things will probably be changed for the Ao3 version, this is very much first draft and I want to do a proper rewrite before then.

Jason parked his bike next to the Batmobile. There was a strange air in the Batcave or maybe it was just him being different. He couldn’t tell for sure. He stepped off the bike so he had his back towards Bruce, who sat by the Batcomputer with his cowl off. Jason could still feel his gaze when he looked up. He didn’t know what to feel. Where was he supposed to start?

“Little Wing!” Dick announced happily, suddenly slinging an arm across his shoulder from behind. It was only all his training that stopped him from jumping three feet into the air from the fright and he managed to just tense - but that was normal. Dick would consider that normal. Pull yourself together, Jason, he scolded himself. Normal, act normal, for one long moment he was grasping for what was normal. It definitely wasn’t the urge to lean into his big brother.

“Jay?” Dick asked quietly, worried, thankfully too quiet for anyone to hear. Panic grasped him and he elbowed Dick to get him off. Dick bent over with an oomph. At least elbowing Dick was a normal response, even if it was for the wrong reason.

Ignoring the strange urge to check on Dick, he squared his shoulders, firmly didn’t look back and walked forward towards the Batcomputer, where now that he had arrived the rest of this night’s patrol team gathered. Damian already out of his suit with damp hair and a towel slung around his neck glanced surreptitiously at Jason out the corner of his eyes even as he pretended to look towards Bruce - brat was still worried. Tim was curled up in an office chair doing who knew what with his laptop in a way that did not seem conducive to the healing of the broken ribs he’d been benched for. Bruce himself, paused what he was doing and spun around in his chair. Even sitting he managed to draw everyone’s attention, Tim even closed his laptop.

Jason purposefully crossed his arms and widened his stance. That’s what they expected of him, probably? How did he usually stand? He usually always felt one wrong comment away from a fight when he was here, he should stand like he expected it, right? Defensive.

This was exhausting.

At last Dick walked up to them completing their loose circle. He was rubbing his side and Jason felt a stab of worry and guilt. Had he aggravated an existing wound? Shit. Fuck. What was wrong with him? Why was he so worried?

“Oracle,” Bruce spoke, “please start.”

“Thanks to Hood, we now have a better headshot of the thief,” Oracle announced from the computer speakers“The Ghost,” Dick interjected in a sing song voice, “after what happened tonight you can’t disagree.”“Nightwing,” Barbara replied flatly, she didn’t even need to say she thought it was a stupid name. “The thief,” she reiterated in a way that left no room for any other arguments and Dick wisely held his silence. At least Dick knew Barbara well enough when to stop. Finally she pulled two photos up on the large screen. The one on the right was an older/early photo with the green glassed goggles obstructing much of the upper half of the face, a grin was a sharp line of white on the lower half of the face in the blurry photo, the quality was terrible and caught in movement.

The newer photo on the left showed a young man, maybe even late teens, eyes were wide, bright green, not quite glowing and his face beet red in embarrassment, mouth slightly open - this was taken just after he’d pushed away from Jason. His goggles sat at the edge of his messy black hair, just high enough to see the way he was beginning to swell on his forehead where Jason had clocked him.

Jason looked from one picture to the other, something was off to him. The grin was an obvious difference, but these where snapped in very different moments, and he shouldn’t let different emotions cloud his judgment.

“He’s lost weight.” The realization hit him with the certainty of a sledgehammer.

There’s dubious mumbling around him, about the blurriness of the first picture. But Jason is unmoved, there’s a hollowness to the guy’s cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“We can’t really judge that sort of thing with the quality of the first image,” Barbara cut through the murmurs. Jason knows he right, but he doesn’t feel like arguing.

He doesn’t feel like arguing, it’s another realization that leaves him wrong footed and he’s not listening for a minute. Checking back into the conversation he only caught the tail end of the conversation that was apparently about the Meta’s skills.“-we can now add phase shifting powers-““Like a Ghost.”

Tim groaned and Barbara outright growled - Jason reevaluated his earlier thought that Dick knew Barbara’s limits. Damian had already accepted the logic and Bruce had long since become immune to this sort of Dick antic.

“Back on topic,” was all he said. “Tim.”

Tim opened his laptop back up.

“Yes, so the items the thief-” There was a small beat as everyone waited for Dick to interrupt, Tim was side-eyeing him but continued; “-is stealing are still painting a very alarming picture, and there is a multitude of very dangerous uses, not to mention what kind of world ending horror they could be built into. Luckily he didn’t get the prototype spectral calibrator tonight, and we’ll be keeping it here for the time being and set the project on an indefinite hold at Wayne Enterprise.”Tim looked up at Bruce. “We’ll be needing to monitor Star Labs as they have a similar project, but so far the Ghost has not operated outside of Gotham to our knowledge.”

Bruce nodded, “I’ll arrange something.”

It was a signal for Tim to continue, “we’re still no closer to a way to capture him and the phase shifting is a whole other added concern. We’ll need to figure out if there’s something he can’t phase through, some denser materials perhaps. I just finished looking through tonight’s footage and from what I’m seeing at least the new filter program is holding up; both the audio and visuals have very few glitches now. But we still don’t know how he’s sending out the electromagnetic interference.”

“Ghoooost,” Dick said quietly under his breath.Tim’s left eye twitched dangerously. Jason couldn’t help smiling, it was very good he was wearing the helmet. Bruce once more ignored Dick looking to Damian.The kid straightened imperceptibly at the attention, it really was adorable, but his voice was as haughty as ever. “Blood sample is already being analyzed of course, tt.” Blood sample? Oh, that’s what Bruce had been doing on the roof, when Jason was distracted. A sick feeling rose in his stomach thinking of the blood, was Ghost even alive? He could be bleeding inside the head for all they knew.

“Hood,” Bruce asked quietly, “do you know why the Ghost reacted to you like that?”Jason stiffened. Fear grabbing cold onto his heart. There was no way he could tell them he thought it had to do with the pits. They’d think Jason was being influenced by the Ghost and bench him. He couldn’t let that happen, he needed answers. He didn’t need to fight his family.

“No damn clue,” he scoffed, hoping he sounded nonchalant and none of his panic shone through, “some weird trauma response? He’d just hit his head real good.”

Bruce looked at him dubiously, but he was clearly unwilling to risk pushing. Their truce was a tentative one after all, one they’d come to after many false starts and stops. Jason had never before been so glad for their tattered relationship.

“So to conclude,” Dick drew everyone’s attention off Jason, “the Ghost is still a mystery, we don’t know if he’s just a thief or a supervillain biding his time.”

“He’s not a supervillain.” Jason could have cursed himself, he’d just gotten their attention off him. Now he was forced to elaborate. “He’s not wearing any sort of body armor, just that hoodie.”

And he’d definitely broken some of his ribs landing on him, Jason thought with a pang of guilt.

“Not all villains wear body armor though,” Tim pointed out carefully, and now Tim was worried too, Jason had no clue what had given him away.

“The ones who engage in close combat with us usually do though,” Dick returned, and Jason could have hugged him for bailing him out again (if that had been normal, which it was NOT).

“He could just not be a very good villain?”

“Or he’s just banking on the fact that he’s very good at dodging,” Barbara interjected with annoyance before the discussion got out of hand, “or did you all just forget you’ve been chasing this guy for weeks without landing a substantial hit on him?” She could always be counted on to be the voice of reason.

Dick scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Tim looked down at his computer. Damian scoffed, trying to look unaffected but that was definitely almost a pout.

Bruce’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he stood up and was that almost a smile? How was this happening? It felt… His fingers dug into his arms. It felt like all the things Jason had convinced himself had never really been there. And there was Bruce’s hand landing on Damian’s shoulder; a silent comfort-encouragement, because Bruce was terrible with words but his touches always spoke volumes. And as the small smile bloomed on Damian’s face and he quickly looked away to hide it, Jason remembered exactly how that felt. Shit.

“Oracle, that’s all for tonight, we’re not getting anywhere without more information.”

“You got it, B, Oracle out.”

Jason spun and stalked towards his bike, before he did something, he didn’t know what exactly.

“Jay?”

Bruce’s voice stopped him in place. He glanced over his shoulder to see them all watching him. Don’t give anything away, he scolded himself.

“What is it, old man?” Jason asked trying to interject as much annoyance into his voice as he could, but it was so hard dredging up any of that when they looked at him worried like that, and his chest ached and he just sounded tired.

“It’s late,” Bruce said with a small unconscious wave of his hand as if anyone could tell the time of day from within the cave, “you could stay the night?”

After a beat he added, “Alfred would love to see you.”

Jason’s jaw clenched. Alfred would, but that’s not what Bruce was really saying, he was saying he would love to have him stay, but didn’t think Jason would be receptive to that and so he brought out the Alfred card. It was plain as day and how had Jason never seen that? Seen the longing on his dad’s face? His chest ached, he knew why. He was always so busy reading everything Bruce did as him trying to control him, every interaction tinted in green. His chest ached. Every inch of his body wanted to stay, to take a step back, see where this could lead, but he couldn’t.

He had to act normal. Normal Jason would never. Normal Jason could be back tomorrow for all he knew. He couldn’t do that to any of them, to himself.

With great difficulty he tore his gaze away from his family and walked the last steps over to his bike.

“Tell Alfred I’ll be coming over for tea on Tuesday,” he said loudly over the noise of his bike, not looking, because he didn’t want to see any of their reactions, then he tore out of there.

This was better for everyone.

Poor Jay really is having the time of it, maybe next part he'll get to actually enjoy not being angry.

next Masterpost for subscription link

[thiccpersonality]

Damian (Gremlin) Wayne and his even more gremlin-esque family pt.4

"Alright boys I'm-" Bruce freezes in the doorway, the pressure that was in his eyes before increasing tenfold-along with his headache-at the chunks of salmon and grains of rice that have been tossed across the room. His eyes surveying how they managed this before realizing Alfred isn't even in the room anymore...so that's why.

Bruce steps forward and narrows his eyes at Jason, the nineteen year olds right hand to be exact, glaring at the fork he picked up and was about to throw at Tim. "Jason Peter Todd, drop the fork! And you, Richard John Grayson, that plate is NOT a throwing disc-" icy blue eyes turn to give the youngest two children THE LOOK™. Tim immediately drops the knife he was about to throw while Damian lowers the salmon that he would absolutely be able to murder someone with down.

"What is all this? I thought this pointless arguing was behind everyone already?"

Bruce looks at each of his children one by one, his brows pinched together as he does so, the four boys looking away shamefully at causing their dad distress. Richard truly does feel sorry, he really does, but that small competitive spirit in him whispers something about taking this chance to gain extra points by being the bigger person.

"You're right, dad. I'm sorry for being childish and fighting with my little brothers this way." Richard holds back his victorious smirk at seeing Bruce smile at him thankfully, the man's shoulders lowering into something more relaxed at the quick apology.

"I forgive you-"

Jason narrows his eyes at the eldest...that little fucker thinks he's smooth with his tricks. Well, Jason-I Can Smell Your Bullshit-Todd is not falling for these childish tricks. Jason knows that him willingly offering to clean will set Bruce's alarms off, but if he gets up to silently initiate it, that will do just fine.

Alfred sips his tea in the kitchen, the man shoving cleaning supplies towards Jason when he comes in, choosing to ignore the confused look his grandchild gives him, of course he knew one of them was eventually going to enter the kitchen for supplies. Jason opens his mouth to question the older man on how he knew but closes it just as quickly and accepts the silent help before backing out of the kitchen.

Bruce looks towards Jason eyeing the cleaning supplies curiously. "Jason...are you preparing that for Alfred?"

Jason feels kind of embarrassed when Bruce actually looks at him, but he can play it off by scoffing and bending down to pick the food up. "No, I'm cleaning it. I was the one who threw most of the food anyway." Ha! Take that Dickhead! Is what Jason is thinking when he makes eye contact with the man, extra points for him at willingly cleaning and admitting his fault with the situation at hand. Bruce's eyes widen and he tries to hold back on praising his second eldest too much...sometimes the boy gives signs that he wants Bruce's attention and then when he gives it to him his child pulls away.

Which is why he keeps it simple with a proud smile at how open Jason is being and a fond look, "Oh? Well thank you so much, Jay. That is very kind of you and mature as well-" Bruce pauses in thought for a moment before saying what he wants to say, though with a bit of hesitancy-"You...have been working on your temperament a lot. I see it has been paying off...and I'm proud of you."

Call Jason Bonnie and Clyde cause he feels like he's been shot. Not in a bad way, but shot with love bullets...which honestly sounds childish and stupid to Jason, but it also means a lot! His heart feels like it's going to burst at the mushy, gooey feeling running through it at those gently and lovingly said words. Jason actually feels like shooting something because he feels so flustered, but this is beyond extra points for him-THIS. IS. EVERYTHING!

The nineteen year old just delights in Richard managing to stumble in place, he soaks up Tim's eye twitch and most definitely basks in the Demon Brat's ® murderous aura. This is a dream come true-what the hell does Timothy think he is doing?

Tim lowers himself to the floor near Jason and puts on cleaning gloves, letting them snap against his wrists while glaring at the older boy. "I-I'm so sorry for being a bother and mess...I'll help Jason clean up! And I'm sorry for trying to throw the knife at him, that wasn't right of me and I-I knew better." Oh...so Tim is playing his 'I'm so insecure, please love me' card...and shit does it tend to work! The little scheming weasel just smirks in victory when Bruce actually walks over and touches his head gently, "Look at me. You aren't ever a bother nor will you ever be one. You are still young and you are all brothers...I don't know what else I expected from leaving you all alone? But you said sorry and it's all good now."

Tim makes puppy eyes at Bruce and looks back at Jason, "I'm also sorry to you too. I shouldn't have been so violent."

Jason freezes at the look in Tim's eyes, the little brat knows exactly what he's doing by apologizing to him willingly on top of admitting his fault. If Jason doesn't answer...he will seem like a jerk and will no doubt disappoint Bruce if he doesn't forgive the other. Which is why Jason just stares at Tim before smirking and saying understandingly, "I forgive you. And I guess the knife throwing is payback for me trying to murder you in my Pit induced rage. We're even now."

The unexpected comment makes Tim smile and giggle, Jason also chuckling at being caught off guard by the younger boy's laugh, the two cough simultaneously at realizing that they are...getting along?

That is gross and Jason will definitely punch at his punching bag later while imagining it's Tim's face.

Damian watches this all unfold with a fiery look in his eyes, he knows his father will probably notice him and talk to him about apologizing or some crap like that...but he can't apologize to those bastard children, he's too proud for that. So, the boy decides to play his "I was literally raised by assassin's so there is most definitely a cultural difference here" card. Damian looks down at the salmon in his hands and smiles, impressed by his own genius while hopping down the chair and walking up to Bruce with a wide-eyed look, salmon held up to Bruce like a cat bringing an offering to its owner.

"Father! I thought this experience was most fun-" Damian tilts his head cutely and makes sure to smile big for his dad, making sure his chubby face is the center of attention-"Do you not usually have such riveting food fights?"

Bruce softens at the cute look but raises his brow at Damian, "No...we usually don't. Did you have food fights?" Bruce can't really imagine Talia or Ra's allowing that, but he also wouldn't be surprised if their food fights consisted of skin melting acid, hidden blades or poison somehow being in the food as a twisted form of training. Damian frowns and lowers his salmon somewhat while frowning sadly, making sure to turn his face down enough that all Bruce can see is his round cheeks puffed out into a pout, "Grandfather and mother would beat me or lock me away if I ever dared to. I want to apologize for making a mess , father, I promise I shall not disappoint you again!"

The boy looks back up at his father with a determined look, making sure his eyes show some sort of nervousness while doing so, delighting in Bruce looking at him lovingly. "Damian, you didn't disappoint me. You didn't even know better really, but now that you do I know you'll never do it again, yeah?" Bruce reaches his hand down to gently brush his thumb against Damian's cheek, finally realizing how dirty his son is, the man chuckles softly and borrows a few paper towels from Jason (who begrudgingly handed some to Bruce) and cleans up Damian's hand and face.

"How about we go get you cleaned up? I know you don't need my help to clean yourself, but I can run your bath for you if you'd like?"

Damian's eyes shine happily at the offer, his small hand slipping into Bruce's as they exit the dining room. "I would like that very much! You can even wash my hair...if you'd like?" Bruce smiles at Damian copying him and squeezes the small hand gently, "I would like that very much."

Jason, Tim and Richard watch flabbergasted at how the little demon managed to win again. Alfred's voice suddenly chimes in humorously from the kitchen, "How many points does he have now?"

The three boys groan loudly while planning the downfall of Damian Wayne.

(Bruce about Tim apologizing for attempting to throw a knife (that was most definitely at Jason): "But you said sorry and it's all good now."

Jason looking at Bruce confused: "He tried to throw a knife at me!!!"

This is a post made for my Birthday today! This was actually written on 2/29/24 at like...11 something in the morning I think and finished at 6:28 PM in the afternoon.

Will the eldest boys actually ever cause Damian's downfall? Will Bruce truly find out about what his gremlin family is doing? Will Alfred continue to egg the kids on? Stay tuned for the next episode of Dragon ball-

I'm just playing. If anyone likes this, I appreciate you loves. Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

[black-aurora-nora]

Irreplaceable | Yandere!Avengers x Reader

You tediously dusted off the empty bookshelf spaces, balancing on a sliding ladder.

Once you were happy with your work, you slid to the next bookshelf, dusting the vacant area as you hummed along with a song that was playing through a speaker at the front of your library.

Just as you were about to slide to the next bookshelf, something jerked it to a stop and you glanced down.

"Don't fall now." Blue eyes stared back into yours and you smiled.

"Hey, Steve, I didn't hear you come in." You greeted happily, climbing down to hug him.

He gladly returned the hug, "So, did you get my text? You never responded."

You paused, gasping when you suddenly remembered, "Oh, yeah, you did message me.". A sad smile appeared on your lips, "I'm sorry, Steve, I can't. You know I'm busy with this place."

His eyes squinted ever so slightly, a tight smile on his face, "But you're always busy with this place. You deserve one night out to have fun."

You shrugged, "Taking care of these books is fun, Steve. And besides, I can't just take a break. My parents passed this place down to me as a trusted protector of the knowledge that resides in each of these books," You explained for the umpteenth time. This library was a huge honor and responsibility for you, it only made sense that you took it so seriously.

Steve sighed, "I know, I know. You're right. I'm sorry for pressuring you."

"It's fine, Steve. Look, if everyone wants to hang out, we could always hang out here in the library and..." You trailed off, looking through your schedule on your phone for next week, "I should be free next Thursday if I can get a family member down here to watch the books."

Steve visibly brightened at that, "That'll work! I'll make sure to text everyone."

That Thursday, you were invited for a night of hanging out at the Avengers Tower. Thankfully, you were able to get a cousin to watch the books for you while you took a break.

When the elevator doors opened, you were met with only smiles.

Everyone was here. Tony, Steve, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, even Thor; which you were actually surprised about.

"Ah, the bibliophile graces us with their presence." Tony announced, a drink already in his hand.

"It's nice to see you too, Tony." You chuckled.

Once all the formalities were out of the way, you all got to eating dinner. As you chatted, the subject of your library quickly came to light, much to your annoyance.

"So, (Y/N)," Bruce started, "How's the library?"

"Great." You answered, short and simple.

He nodded at that, glancing towards everyone else and then back at you, "Does it ever get boring? Are you happy, I mean?"

You frowned slightly at how he worded his question and shrugged nonchalantly, "Yeah, I love keeping the library. It's quiet, sure, but I've always loved the quiet."

Your answer was honest, as always, but none of them seemed to be happy with it. It was almost like they wanted you to not be happy with where you were in your life.

"Really? You don't want a bigger room at least?"

You lived in a one-room space that was converted into a bedroom above the very library that was handed down to you. It was ridiculously small, but you loved how cozy it was.

"No, I'm fine with the space." Wanting to change the subject you quickly asked, "Anyone down for a nightly stroll through the park?"

No one said anything. You were only met with strange silence and disappointed stares. It appeared that they didn’t want you to change the subject.

"Why is everyone being so awkward towards me?" You decided to ask directly.

No one said anything at first and you glanced at each of them. What had you done to make them feel this way towards you?

Tony threw his hands in the air, "I can't do this anymore." He stared right at you, "(Y/N), why won't you live here at the tower with us?"

You closed your eyes with a long, tired sigh, "Tony, please don't bring this back up-"

"Why not? What's stopping your from living here?" Natasha butted in.

"You've discussed this with everyone else too?" You asked Tony, clearly unimpressed with his actions.

"Well, yeah. They live here too, had to make sure they were cool with it." You didn't like how he was speaking as if you'd accepted his offer. As if you hadn't told him no in the past when he'd asked you about living in the tower.

At the questioning gazes piercing your soul, you decided you'd had enough and stood up.

"Let me explain this to you all; I have no interest in living here at the tower. I want to stay at the library and keep the books as my family has done for many, many generations. Do not ask me about living at the tower anymore."

Tony crossed his arms, "So you'll choose a bunch of dusty books over us?"

"Tony!" Steve scolded, but it didn't look like he cared.

"People would kill to live here, (Y/N), and you want to sit in some tiny library filled with books that hold little value? I mean, you look stupid!" He argued harshly and you gaped at him.

How could he say such things?

"I’m not choosing over anything or anyone. Those books may not mean anything to you, but they mean everything to me, asshole. And if this is what you think of something that's special to me, then we can't be friends." You snapped at the rest of them, "And you guys are assholes for not respecting my choices!"

"Young (Y/N), we are only looking out for you-"

You let out a long groan, "If you aren't going to listen to me and respect my wishes, I'm leaving." You declared, promptly walking away from the table and to the elevators.

"(Y/N)-" Clint started to follow you but Tony stopped him.

"No, no, just let her go." You heard Tony say.

Just as the elevator doors closed, you froze at what Tony said next.

"She'll be back."

When you got home and went to bed, you didn't sleep too well.

What Tony had said and how everyone else had reacted didn't sit right with you.

None of them made any effort to correct Tony except Steve and even his attempt seemed half-assed.

Why did they want you to live at the tower so badly? Why couldn't they just respect that you were happy where you were? That these books were more than just books? As if you couldn't possibly know what you really wanted?

For the whole year that you'd known each other, you never told them that you yearned for the lavish life. Hell, you never once complained about having to be the new bookkeeper for your family's library. Sure, you had bad days, but who didn't have bad days?

Deciding to try and put the past behind you, you rolled over and fell asleep.

_______________________________________________

A pounding knock from your library's front door jolted you from your deep slumber.

You clambered out of bed and went to your small window, peaking through the blinds to see multiple SHIELD vehicles parked outside in no particular order.

There were dozens of men and women, all dressed in agent uniforms, standing outside the vehicles or sitting inside them, waiting.

You quickly made your way downstairs to your library and unlocked the front doors.

"Phil Coulson, I work with SHIELD and we've received numerous tips that your library is holding confidential and dangerous information for HYDRA." The man, Phil, introduced professionally. "SHIELD has now taken custody of your books for further investigation into the matter."

"Wait, what?!" You exclaimed, "You can't just-just take my books! These books have been passed down through several generations!" You tried to explain.

Two agents stepped up, "Please step aside, (Y/N), you don't have ownership of this library anymore and are thereby trespassing."

"I..." You trailed off, watching as numerous agents shuffled into your library and began to shove your precious books into duffle bags. "Stop! I don't have any HYDRA info! Please put the books back!" You cried.

Just as the two agents from before were about to grab you, a familiar voice stopped them in their action.

"Hold on, we've got them!"

Steve and Clint quickly came up, worried eyes and all. But despite the worry, there was a small glint of guilt that you quickly picked up on.

And then everything clicked as soon as you picked up on it.

"You motherfuckers!" You screamed harshly, stepping right up to them with an ugly glare. "Where the fuck is Tony? Tell him to give me my fucking library back! Right now!" You knew that he had something to do with this.

Steve held his hands up carefully, "(Y/N), Tony doesn't have command over SHIELD. Why don't you come with us to cool down?" He offered gently, Clint nodded along.

You didn't move, eyes flicking between the two, "I'm not going anywhere with you guys. I want my library back!"

Clint stepped up, "We can't do that. It would just be best if you came back to the tower with us. We can take care of you now since you don't have really have a place to stay anymore." There was a strange, inappropriately placed happiness in his voice when he said that.

You paused.

Your lips trembled and your eyes began to water.

You could feel your throat getting tight.

Steve was quick to try and give you comfort, but you slapped his hand away as if it burned.

"Get away from me! You guys ruined everything!" You sobbed.

The sorrow you felt was far too painful. It didn't couple well with the anger that was bubbling inside you.

And that definitely didn't mix well with the sight of your precious books being taken out by the duffel bag and stuffed into black cars.

You'd had to prove yourself for years before your parents finally deemed you worthy of being the next protector of the library. You'd never be able to face them now.

In a matter of 12 hours, you lost something incredibly important to you.

All because of your ex-friends who failed to understand that you had your own life and responsibilities.

Something in you broke and you lunged at whoever was standing closest to you, which happened to be Steve.

You fought and screamed with all your might, not caring or noticing that your hits and scratches did little to nothing to Steve’s seemingly impenetrable skin.

And though you weren’t doing anything to him physically, it did seem that he was bothered by you attacking him in such an angry manner.

“(Y/N), (Y/N)-please calm dow-it’s okay!” He gripped you arms to your body to hold you still, barely caring as you kicked and thrashed and cursed in teary frustration, “We’ve got you now, you’re okay.”

You weren’t listening anymore. You couldn’t hear anything other than your own sobbing.

Your life was ruined.

“Steve, I don’t think she’s gonna calm down. I’ll just signal Natasha.” Clint said, muttering something to his earpiece.

You were held as still as possible and felt a small sting in your neck.

It wasn’t long before your thrashing slowed to a stop and your vision went black.

[15minlatewithbatbucks]

untitled janet/talia, Bruce's bio kid Tim AU -> no choice but to love you pt. 5

Janet didn’t know what looked worse for her: bringing a boy that looked extremely familiar to see Bruce Wayne or the bag she had thrown over her shoulder that was clearly a mommy tote bag. It was packed with water and snacks and all the color books Tim could reasonably fit in it (seven, with one of them being a jumbo edition that boasted over 100 pages of activities).

In her defense, Tim tended to warm up best when talking to strangers if he was given something to do with his hands. He’d bonded with many of his early education tutors over a mean session of coloring. He could clearly write his alphabet and the names of everyone in his family when asked. If he didn’t have to look away from his coloring, he could ever recite the addresses of both their town home and Jack’s office as well as Janet and Jack’s phone numbers.

It got easier to get him to talk, but until Tim felt comfortable Bruce was just going to have to deal with it. She already had plans of setting Tim up over on the sofa near Bruce’s little in house coffee bar. He’d be close, but the adults could still speak.

The truth was coming out and they had to get their stories straight.

The man behind the front desk was the same today and his eyes lingered on Tim for what felt like an eternity as Janet approached. Before his attention could become too noticeable, he smiled at them both, just as warm as the day before. Gratefully, Janet greeted Ron by name and he took pleasure in making a little event out of making Tim his own visitor’s pass.

The little boy’s smile was blinding as he helped arrange the sticker just so on his little plaid button up.

“What do we say, Tim?” Janet reminded, smiling as he ran his fingers over the front of his shirt and the sticker in lines.

“Thank you, sir,” he supplied, not looking up, but flashing a gap toothed smile. He scrubbed his fingers over the rougher texture of the cloth and smoothed them with the smooth glide over the sticker with apparent delight.

“No problem, little buddy,” Ron assured him. “That’s a polite boy you have there. Did you need the whole spiel again, Mrs. Drake?”

“No, I think I can remember,” she said, smile dimming. It was almost pathological the way she wanted to break down and ask what he thought about a strange woman arranging a sudden appointment with Bruce Wayne only to show up with a child the next day. She was desperate to know what people were thinking, how they were judging her.

Her life was going to be a terrible cliché from here on out.

Janet wished him well and Tim waved as she took him by his free hand and led him to the elevators.

“Mommy? Um, Mom, I mean,” Tim said in stops and starts, peering up at her. He’d unfortunately taken it to heart when Jack told him that big boys didn’t call their parents Mommy or Daddy. “This isn’t Da-. Um. This isn’t the office.”

Janet hitched her tote bag higher on her shoulder and wished again that frantic web searches at 3am were more helpful. Tim wasn’t deaf; he’d definitely heard Jack yelling that Tim wasn’t his son and had obviously readily internalized the information.

It didn’t help that Jack had staunchly refused to even look at Tim since.

“Remember what I said in the car, baby? About Mr. Wayne?” she prompted and Tim’s little face scrunched up in thought. It may have been all of fifteen minutes ago, but if Tim had been distracted by anything while she was talking, the conversation was as good as lost to the sands of time.

“He works here?” he guessed, still a little mystified as Janet herded him into the elevator. It was thankfully empty.

“Yes he does. His office is all the way at the top,” she explained. “And he’s your dad. Remember?”

“There was an oopsie where babies come from,” Tim remembered. “And instead of- And my dad is actual someone else.”

“Pretty big oopsie,” Janet agreed. “I’m sorry, Timmy. It’s not fair.”

“It’s okay,” he patted their joined hands. “I’m sorry Daddy, um. I’m sorry J-Jack is mad.”

Janet wanted to scoop him up and assure him that none of this was his fault, but the elevator was already sliding open on their destination. Stepping off, Janet was startled to see Emma already looking their way eagerly. She seemed, if possible, in higher spirits than yesterday. She wondered what Bruce told her.

[travssworld]

He’s Pretty for a boy

Vance hopper/Bruce Yamada

Warning:Foul Language

Bruces’s POV

(Art by rakbuun on TikTok)

________________________________________

Bruce didn't like boys in a way a boy should like a girl.. or that's what he thought until he saw Vance. Pinball Vance hopper, the strongest and most aggressive boy at his school, the boy that would get into fights at school all the time for something as small as someone messing up his chance at beating his high score on the Pinball Machine.

Vance was an angry person with a lot of hatred in him everyone could see it from a mile away and even Bruce saw it. He saw how mad Vance was at the world but he never understood why. He always asked himself that when he thought of Vance but he never got close enough to ask, because even though his curiosity was killing him he didn't wanna walk home from school with a black eye and broken nose.

That's how it started aswell.. his attraction to Vance Hopper. It started with curiosity.

——————————————————-

Bruce was walking to the cafeteria to get his lunch when he glanced over at the field and saw a bunch of kids circling something, he knew it must have been a fight and at first he was just going to ignore it until he saw one of his friends run over to the crowd. After debating if he should skip lunch to check out the fight or not he decided he would just see who's fighting who, and why than he was gonna quickly come back to the cafeteria.

The closer he got to the crowd the louder the cheers became.

.

.

"Fuck him up!"

.

"Let him get up damn!!"

.

"Oooo"

.

.

And so on. Once he made it, he pushed though the crowd to see who was fighting and there he was Vance Hopper straddling some random kid, punching him in the face over and over again repeatedly. The kid already looked passed out Vance had clearly won but he wasn't stopping, if Vance keeps going that kid's gonna end up in the hospital with a concussion. While Vance would probably end up in juvie.

So against his better judgment Bruce jumped into the circle, quickly putting his arms around Vance's torso and pulling him off. Vance quickly tried to get out of my grasp, which he did end up doing successfully with me falling back but quickly gaining back my balance.

.

"Uh oh!"

.

"Bruce is in trouble now"

.

"What the hell man?!"

.

Vance turned to me and he looked piss, and admittedly I'll say that I was slightly terrified but at that moment I wasn't really thinking about how much of a dead man I was, instead I was thinking about how... pretty he looked. He has long curly dirty blonde hair, his face was very defined yet slightly feminine. However his most memorable feature was his deep blue siren like eyes. I could look at them forever, and I would, if Vance let me. Vance was very angelic, well he would look more so if he didn't have an already forming black eye and a nose bleed but Bruce didn't mind.

I was still deep in thought when I felt myself being pushed roughly to the ground by Vance, that's what snapped me out of my zoned out haze and back to reality. I looked up at Vance and that's when I thought I was going to get what that other guy got. Which is a horrible concussion, but luckily and thankfully that's not what happened. Vance just looked down at me and than walked away without saying a single word to me.

He pushed thought the crowd and even managed to knock some people to the ground but no one went at him for it they all just let him go.

"Bruce what the fuck were you thinking?!" My friend yelled at me as he helped me pull myself off the ground.

"I don't know.. I was just trying to help that kid, Vance was probably gonna end up giving him a concussion!" I was lying thought my teeth. I didn't care for the kid laying unconsciously on the ground, I just didn't want Vance to get in more trouble if he accidentally killed him or something.

In retrospect, that's probably very heartless of me to not care for the poor guy that went against Vance but from what I've seen from Vance since the beginning of the school year is that he doesn't ever start the fights. People either go to him asking for one or they do something stupid to provoke Vance to want to beat them to a pulp, I just wondered what that guy did to make Vance hit him continuously even after he was unconscious.

"Look Bruce, you're a good person and I know you like to help people but WHAT THE FUCK. You're lucky Vance didn't beat the absolute SHIT out of you"

"I'm sorry okay I was just worried, I mean if I didn't stop Vance could have been sent to juvie too you know. So I was trying to help the both of them"

"Yeah well if you ask me I think it would be better if pinball Vance went to juvie. The guys a fucking monster he'll beat up anyone if they make him even a little mad. The guy has got problems."

What is wrong with him? Why would he say that? No one like Vance should ever be in juvie he's probably just misunderstood or something, he's not a monster. He just has a short temper.

"Yeah I guess you're right"

"Of course I'm right!" He says putting his arm around my shoulder.

"Now come on Bruce lets go get some food before the bell rings I'm starving!"

We both go to the cafeteria and I sit with my usual group of mostly baseball friends, when I see Vance in the corner of my eye leaving the cafeteria.

I wonder where he's going?

Love leaving cliff hangers 🤭

I published this on Wattpad aswell and I might make a chapter 2 there (it’s @Dreams4877 the display name is risesthemoon._)

[spirit-speaking]

Return to Sender

Two full days of wandering the manor had left very little room for anything exciting to fall into her lap. It had certainly given Valeria plenty of time to think and reflect. The pain in her hand had subsided and thankfully no damage had been done for her to have concern further than the day she struck Vahalia -- an awful choice but one she had made nonetheless and she knew Vahalia wasn’t about to forget it any time soon.

Curiosity often got the best of her, earning her tight spaces to wiggle out from later. But she had been mulling over the idea of a bracelet, a single bracelet she had seen in her jewelry box and the very same in which Marion had expressed to Valeria where she had gotten it. 

According to Marion she had talked about it for days, professing how she had gotten it from none other that that gentleman Ricard Blythe. And even with them no longer embarked on the path towards their appointed destination, she still held on to this one piece she knew had some significant value to the Blythe name. She couldn’t keep it. It wouldn’t have been proper – right.

Slender fingers curled along the delicate silver bracelet in her palm and she felt the warmed of the material at her skin as she had been holding on to it for quite a long time. Just another thing in this house that seemed to be overlooked. Surely Vahalia hadn’t thought about it when and while she was cutting the contract off and Ricard… well Valeria hadn’t seen him until a few days ago but something jogged within her. Not quite memories but a feeling, something she could only describe as a gut instinct.

What type of woman would she be if she couldn’t give back something that didn’t belong to her; even more that she had no solid answers to work off of?

Deep green skirts shifted and Valeria got up from her seat near the big windows in her room. It was getting late, already the sun had settled which to her, meant Vahalia would likely be winding down for the evening along with much of the staff. By the 20th bell, she knew Bruce would be in the office with Vahalia, likely partaking in a drink as the two went about final business for the day and to know what to start off with for the following.

Yes, she had the schedules and routines of everyone in the house quite seared into her memory now. For a woman who barely left the manor aside from a few times a week to work at the library, the manor itself was a staple and one she was keen on buffering out over time when her health allowed.

Pulling a cloak over her head and tugging on a pair of high boots to keep warm from the cold outside, Valeria made her way out of her room, pocketing the bracelet and meandering down the hallway in a rather fast pace. The sooner she could leave without being spotted, the better. The front door certainly wasn’t up for debate and the windows were a dangerous prospect and possibly loud with all the ice and snow that would jam them shut – but there was one more place she had to try.

Quiet steps had brought the Cress woman into the deepest, darkest recess of the manor itself, opening the door to the family crypt and then stepping down into the narrow tunnel, the heavy wooden door was closed behind her; minimal moans of protest from the wood. Swiftly she made haste down the stairs and the winding corridors, past the few rows of those who had passed over long ago and then towards the other door at the end that she knew led out into the property of the estate itself.

The wind hit her hard when she threw open the door and stepped out, quickly bundling the cloak around her neck as she set the door ajar slightly with a stone to keep it as a respectable entrance later for getting back in. With determination, she was off, mind settled on one thing – the Milner estate.

When the door opened, the warm light found Valeria’s face and she stood with the cloak snapped and tucked inward towards her frame, keeping herself as warm as she could against the elements, “I’m Lady Cress.” she announced, “-- here to see Lord Blythe.” the attendant seemed to look her over and there was some mild surprise on their face as they stepped aside and let her in. Surely; it had been some time since her face had been seen in Ricard’s estates. She remembered none of it.

The attendant in question, a younger Hyur male, shook off his surprise before offering a quick bow and closing the door behind her, taking his place before offering to take her cloak. The space was well-lit and warm, a juxtaposition to that of the outside. 

“I…o-of course my lady. Forgive our surprise, we simply…”

“I don’t think the lady asked for an explanation as to why you were surprised, Vincent. I believe, if I heard right, she mentioned she was here to see me.”

From the top of the stairs, hands resting on the railing, sleeves of the simple white button-up shirt he wore rolled up to his elbows and looking terribly casual stood Ricard, easy grin in place as he eyed the scene in his front hall with no small amount of curiosity. “So do our lovely guest a good turn, see her cloak to its proper spot, and then perhaps something warm to drink, hm? The weather outside is something terrible right now…”

“Of course, sir.” Another quick bow and Vincent set off to his work, as Ricard made his way down the stairs, “Well, Lady Cress, you have the Lord Blythe’s attention - my sitting room is right this way,” he motioned in the direction Vincent had disappeared towards. “Shall we go sit? There’s a lovely fire going and you can tell me what’s brought you all the way from the Cress manor.”

“I – well I apologize for being so late. I suppose I hadn’t…” she followed after Ricard, holding tight to the item in her hand even though her cloak had been taken, “ – I hadn’t quite thought it through. Not half as well as common sense would have advised me to.”

“Common sense isn’t quite as common as one might believe - and not nearly as fun. What’s life without a little adventure, hm?” He glanced over his shoulder towards her as he led her into the sitting room. He had been right - the fire was well stoked and warm. Had she been able to recall, she would have noticed that the room had been expanded from her last visit to include a reading nook - but it wasn’t something that he pointed out.

Heavy skirts flowed over the places in which Valeria stepped, “I won’t take up much of your time. I’m just trying to piece things together. It’s hard to truly feel like I can move on without knowing the parts of my past that are difficult to recall. That…and well I thought it best to return something.” Once in the room, Valeria naturally found some comfort near the fireplace and settled upon one of the available chairs. Here, for the time being, it seemed comfortable – normal.

In a place, she should have felt uneasy or strange in, but it was a cozy space, highly familiar in ways she couldn’t quite put her finger on but here….she felt safe?

Ricard settled into the seat across from her, leaning back into the chair as Vincent arrived, setting a tray down - a teapot and two cups set out, before offering another low bow and moving to stand by the entrance to the room once more. “I’m certainly in no rush, you can take up as much time as you like. I’m happy to try and assist in any way that I can and if that means offering what memories I was a part of, then I can do that.” 

He reached over, pouring into both cups before offering one out to her carefully. “But what is this ‘something’ you felt compelled to return?”

Mismatched eyes gazed across to Ricard as he spoke and poured the tea, Valeria taking a moment to think and feeling the warmth from the fire before finally settling on what was appropriate to ask, “What was I to you? — or rather, how were we?” When she asked, her hand reached out, fingers unfurling and the bracelet he had once given her was within the cup of her palm, well kept, pristine as what he might have remembered it, “I was told that you gave this to me and the significance it held. You’ve told me your mother was disappointed. These are all things I don’t feel….a stranger would have had or experienced. If there were genuine connections with people around me, I want to know, I would like to learn.”

His gaze settled on the bracelet as he set the cup down next to her chair gently. “I don’t know that there’s an easy way to answer that, but I’ll try.” He shifted over brushing his fingers over the bracelet hovering over the end - the most recent addition. “You were told of the significance of this, yes? That it was a family heirloom. We add a new jewel to the piece for each new addition to the family before we gift the piece to our newest member - I gave this to you before you met my parents. You were wearing it the evening you met them, actually.”  

Ricard shifted back in his seat but only slightly, his hands settled between his knees. “We were…it was an arranged pairing, Valeria, and we were trying to get to know one another and trying to make the best of the situation at the same time.” His head tilted as he looked up - blue meeting mismatched eyes, “You were to be my wife - we were learning how to maneuver our day-to-day responsibilities and how to interact with one another…what was important to one another.”

Silently Valeria looked to the bracelet in hand, free hand adjusting the cup of tea nearby to ensure it wouldn’t be tipped and the more Ricard spoke, the more she felt herself sink back into the chair, eyes drifting to the item in her hand.

He motioned over towards the reading nook, “Little changes were made to the estate, and things along those lines - as we learned what made one another tick. And when I mentioned my mother was disappointed, well…my mother was ecstatic to hear about the arrangement in the first place and then after she met you, well - it was rare that I saw her that she didn’t talk about just how excited she was to bring someone new into the family…and then for the possibility of grandchildren.” He sighed. “Which wouldn’t have happened until we were ready, so she would have been highly disappointed anyway, but neither here nor there - she enjoyed the time she got to spend with you prior to your accident, and was upset to hear that the arrangement was being called off.” 

A hand reached up and ran through his hair before reaching for his own tea cup. “We’ve had…many conversations about it.”

Valeria’s stare was heavily settled to the nook Ricard had indicated and for the life of her, she couldn’t remember any of it but the unsettling lump in her throat and the pressure within her ribcage she certainly felt as if though impact had been made between them at one point. They sounded as if though they took measured steps to where they had been then and even now….

“Why didn’t you come back for me?” her eyes darted over Ricard’s face. Surely she had meant something to him at one point, even if it was on good terms or friends? “Did you feel anything for me, did you visit me? What was I then besides a name on a contract…” she blinked, a softness still in her voice and stare – she was attentive and for a brief moment there was a quizzical gaze to the cup he held. Tea? Something in her stirred – that wasn’t right. She blinked again, pushing the thoughts to the furthest part of her mind.

“Apologies, I overstep. I suppose none of those answers truly matter now since it’s been….ah….how long now? A long time I think?” she furrowed her brow trying to recall how many moons had cycled while she slept.

A small smile that didn’t reach his eyes crossed his features as he set his cup down. “I should’ve had Vincent bring something with a bit more kick.” A soft exhale left him as he met her gaze, shifting forward once more, a bit somber. “It’s been…about a year since your accident. Maybe a little less. And I disagree, I think the answers do matter.” 

There was a moment of hesitation, before he gave a sharp exhale and continued on, “Answers always matter. Or I think they do - perhaps that has to do with what I do. But I digress. The day I was informed of what happened, your sister summoned me to the Cress estate and we had a conversation about what was to be done…I wanted to wait, see what happened, you could wake up. Vahalia wanted a decision made - and we settled on that if you hadn’t woken up in a few months the contract would be broken.”

“Your sister and I, Valeria - the history is long and complicated. I don’t believe her to be overly fond of me. But with you…I didn’t return because of the history partially - my presence in the Cress manor when the contract was in place was one thing. Without it, it was…tenuous. I’d heard you’d woken up, but…didn’t want to make things complicated. It was, after all, an arranged marriage and our last discussion had been…tense. You’d left it rather irritated with me.”

Ricard lifted his cup, taking a sip and managing not to scrunch his nose slightly. Bourbon would have been his preferred evening drink  - but he needed to be clear-headed to make sure she got home safely. He set the cup down before reaching across and softly laying a hand over hers. “But you were…are certainly more than a name on a contract - and there are days that I do still wonder where we might have been now, had I been with you in the Cozier that afternoon. We’d have been…six months married at this point? Perhaps a little less?” The hand was slowly withdrawn, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. “I’d like to think we were friendly, moving in the right direction, given the rather short time we’d been given.”

“If that is the case then…” she scooted closer on the edge of her seat and she reached for his hand, the one that happened to be closest to her, and if allowed to be taken, she would gently turn over his hand, palm up, “ I would still very much like to be friendly with you, I could use more friends in my life and since we were friends before I see no reason why cannot be still.”

Valeria smiled and with the outreach of her other hand she carefully dropped the heirloom bracelet into his grasp, “ I would very much like to give this back as fate had it that the addition was not to represent me and I would feel wrong to possess it. I do however thank you for thinking of me in the moment.”

The metal was an odd contrast to the feel of her hand against his, and he offered a low hum. “Or perhaps it does and it was simply given at the wrong time, hm?” He looked up with a momentary indiscernible expression before giving her a quick wink and a playful smile. 

There was an uneasiness that wrought over Valeria's face at Ricard's comment, only for the fact that he was now toying with her while vulnerable. Trying to do the right thing…but then again she hadn’t known him as much as she had wished to, to piece together the blips of her memory that had dabbed out over the course of several months and traumatic injury. She smiled softly, it was the best and only thing she could do in the moment, finding no ill-will in his words but perhaps that was his way of making light of something but that didn’t stop her chest from clutching inward on itself.

Seeing his attempt to be lighthearted fall short, he bowed his head slightly. “I jest - and apologize if I’ve made you uneasy.” Fingers closed around the bracelet carefully. Sure he had the item secure, he turned his hand over and lifted their hands, leaning down and pressing a light kiss to the back of her knuckles. “Then friends it is - though I feel I should warn you, being friends with me may lead to no small number of shenanigans. All good - I assure you. Are you certain you’re prepared, Lady Cress?” His head canted to the side as he lowered their hands once more.

At Ricard's question, Valeria’s eyes danced over his face without knowing the true meaning of what he was suggesting and before she could truly think, her mouth responded, “I’m sure it is no different than the others I keep in my company. I’m no stranger to the unexpected and enigmatic.”

“Oh?” An eyebrow quirked as his gaze now turned curious. “Who are some of these enigmatic figures that you associate with, I wonder?” He released her hand back to her, turning the bracelet over in his hand, “Not that you are under any obligation to tell me, of course. I’m just - as I mentioned before, insatiably curious. It tends to get me into trouble from time to time.”

“As you say.” she regarded him curiously and she looked at her teacup, opting to take a heavy sip from the rim as it was far cooler than it had been 10 minutes prior. Anything to keep herself from blabbing more than necessary. He shouldn't have been so surprised with the company she kept considering who her sister was and Ricard had been very, well aware of that.

“Friends.” Valeria afforded him as an answer, “Friends of friends.” she tacked on but decided to leave it at that.

“An answer without truly offering an answer. Well played.” The bracelet was carefully tucked away as Ricard looked towards her with a smile. “That is a skill some never master. I’ll press no further and allow these friends to remain mysterious. But tell me about you then…before it felt like your interests were always changing. Now you seem to be much more…focused.”

"I'm awake more now than I ever was, that's what it feels like." Valeria placed her teacup down. A majority of it well tucked away, "There is really….nothing to tell. I've been getting out more these days which has been refreshing."

“There’s nothing to tell…yet.” He started to reach for his own cup before thinking better of it. The liquid was lukewarm at this point, if not cooler. “Perhaps a silver lining…You get to start again, in a sense. Be who you’d like, explore, see things for the first time. I can imagine getting outside of the Cress manor would be quite refreshing after a while. Do you have any places in mind that you want to visit?”

A soft chuckle escaped Valeria and she nodded, “A few places. I’ve been invited somewhere so I am quite excited for that.” and now she was getting far too personal and his questions were prying. Placing her hands to her knees, she felt the fabric of her skirt a moment, “I should probably get back before it gets too late.”

Looking up Valeria retained her smile from moments prior, “We will see each other again in passing I’m sure. But thank you for the hospitality this evening and for seeing me on such late notice. I’m glad I came.”

“You’re welcome any time.” Ricard stood, glancing back behind him and giving Vincent a quick nod, the man disappearing back into the hall. “Allow me to escort you at least to the edge of the Cress property? I’d rest easier knowing you made it safely home.”

“It won’t be necessary. I’d rather not have anyone see you or wake the rest of the house.” she made known, making her way for her cloak that Vincent had the intent on assisting her with before seeing her out. Adjusting it around her shoulders and neck she smiled across to Ricard, “I’ll be quite fine, I assure you. I appreciate your hospitality and Vincent, thank you.” the Cress woman made eye contact with the attendant and offered a brisk nod in thanks.

“If you’re quite sure…” Ricard trailed off, following her towards the front door. “...Well, if I can’t convince you otherwise, then at the very least, be safe, and try to stay warm. Until we meet again, Lady Cress.” He gave a small bow and a smile as he straightened up to face her once more. 

The gesture had been returned and silently, Valeria had stepped out into the chill of the evening once more making her way back.

How could have she been so blind to not see the mistake in her actions, how going where she should have left well enough alone might have brought about additional consequences aside from the pangs of pain she was feeling in her chest and the confusion in her head? She could feel every vessel within her surgering with blood, the cold nipping at her cheeks and the very fury of anger rising within her ribcage until it knotted itself into her stomach. She didn't know what to make of the cacophony of mixed emotions.

She had to know what the faceless man in her life had once meant to her, even more so that she needed to return the one thing she felt wasn’t hers to keep any longer. Valeria had no business holding on to the item, especially since the one who gave it to her was but a small blip in memory.

Her temple thrummed with an ache and her fingertips instantly found the area, a habit and her reaction which was to alleviate the uncomfortable sensation that wracked her senses without relenting. Perhaps she would have been better left to her devices at home rather than to have gallivanted around in the evening...

She traveled through the familiar courtyard and passed the collection of statues at the back of the manor that was overgrown by winter weeds, slipping back through the door from which she had escaped – the family’s mausoleum a familiar sight as she was now within the dark, chilled halls where the dead of her ancestors rested. Their physical forms remained but their aetherial forms had long since gone back into the lifestream.

Slow, soft steps brought her through the familiar narrow tunnels of the crypt and eventually led upwards towards the heart of the manor. She could already feel the warmth radiating along the top most part of the stairs and she opened the door quietly.

It was late.

Far too late for anyone to have been up at this hour, even for Vahalia.

Collab with: @ricard-blythe-ffxiv

[lgbtqforeverything]

Duke is the Queen of Skiddley Wiffers

It’s Duke Week!!!!!! Day 1’s theme is game night and yes, the title is a phineaas and ferb reference.

@duketectivecomics

The day was the second saturday of an even month of the year. And that meant it was the Official Bat-Boys Game Night™. Of course this was not to be confused with the Official Wayne Family Game Night™ or the Official Bat-Girls Game Night™ or even the Official Bat-Family Game Night™.

Duke had only been to a few since getting fostered by Bruce, but the routine seemed fairly simple and on brand for the family. Duke, Cullen, and Tim would show up together to Dick’s Blüdhaven apartment around seven o’clock. Dick would have already picked Damian up from school and brought him over that afternoon. When Luke was visiting, he would join them and thusly drive the trio over instead of Alfred.

 Once they had arrived, they would draw straws for who had to call Jason and convince him to come. A feat that changed in difficulty depending on who he was most pissed at at the time. Once that was done and they were all present, they moved on to the next challenge of the night: Choosing the game.

They all had certain ones that they preferred. Dick had over ten different kinds of Monopoly, Jason was favorable to Cards Against Humanity, Cullen to Pokémon Battles, Tim to Exploding Unicorns, and Damian to Uno. Duke had a favorite game of course, but he hadn’t brought it up to the other yet, as he was still slightly uncertain of the night’s procedure.  

Which is why when Dick asked what they wanted to play that night and Damian pulled Candyland out of his backpack, it seemed like a blessing in disguise. 

“Candyland”, Jason stated skeptically. “Ain’t that a little young for you demon brat?”

“Tt,” Damian scowled. “It was recommended to me by Kent, you imbecile. He practically forced me to bring it. I would never chose such a plebeian game myself.”

“Suuure”, Jason drawled in reply.

Damian bristled but before they could come to the first blows of the evening, Dick intervened.

“Well it looks like fun Dami!” He exclaimed while putting himself between the two. “Let’s set it up, ok?”

“Very well, Grayson”, was Damian’s terse response.

And so, the game was placed opon Dick’s rickety and unstable coffee table and they all gathered around to begin.

“It looks like each person has a character,” Tim explained from where he was reading the instructions, “and when you draw a card you move to the next nearest square with that color on it. Expect for when you get a double card, where you move to the second nearest square, or a character card, where you move to the square that the card represents.”

“Sounds pretty simple,” Cullen shrugged.

“Maybe we’ll even be able to make it all the way through this one with no problems!” Dick enthused.

His only response was skeptical stares from all of them.

“Yeah you’re probably right’, he sighed.

“Enough of dickwing being annoyed at our dysfunctionalness, let’s get this over with and play”, Jason said.

The game play was standard for a while, everyone just taking their turns and learning the game. But then on Duke’s fourth turn, it happened.  

Duke picked from the deck of cards, and lo and behold, drew out a card with a ice cream cone and a princess on it.

“How the hell did you get the first character card?” Jason accused upon seeing it.

“Good luck I guess”, Duke shrugged.

“I don’t know”, Cullen said. “Getting a card that puts him that close to the castle this early? It’s a bit suspicious.”

“It’s the first time we’re playing this, guys”, Dick said with a roll of his eyes. “Why don’t we give him the benefit of the doubt just this once?”

“Fine, but I’m watching you Glowstick”, Jason said threateningly.

Duke looked at him with a deadpan expression. “I’m terrified.”

Jason growled at him, but thankfully Damian took his turn then and Jason’s attention was redirected away from Duke.

Until a few turns later, when Duke became the first one to get to the castle and won the game.

Upon his amazing victory everyone groaned in annoyance, but Duke remained optimistic.

“We should play again”, He suggested with a seemingly sincere smile. “I’m sure that one of you will win this time.”

And because they were all proud bastards that didn’t know how to back down from a challenge, they agreed and the game began again.

And Duke won again. In almost the exact same way.

That time Tim was the one to encourage them to go again. He then spent the whole game carefully watching Duke, as he won. Again.

By then they were all getting more and more suspicious. See, once is dumb luck and twice is coincidence, but three times? Three times is cheating. And they all knew it.

So they played again, but this time someone else had to draw for Duke. The round took longer that time, but Duke was still the first to reach the castle. 

Then it happened again and again and again.

When Duke won for the eighth time, even with everyone conspiring against him and multiple handicaps, Cullen flipped the coffee table.

“Well that was entertaining”, Duke said calmly, looking down at the pieces and cards of the game now spread out on Dick’s floor.

He looked up to see everyone glaring at him. “What?”

“How the hell do you win a kid’s board game eight times in a row?!” Dick questioned hysterically.

“I don’t know”, Duke replied with a shrug. “I’ve just always won when playing Candyland.”

“Exactly how frequent is ‘always’?” Asked Tim.

“Uhhh, every time that I can remember, I guess.”

”And you didn’t think to tell us that before we wasted two hours playing with you?” Cullen accused.

Duke scoffed. “Why would I when it’s so much more fun seeing you guys gradually get more and more pissed off?”

Damian, of course, then screeched and tackled him.

As the two wrestled on the floor with Tim, Cullen and Jason cheering Damian on, Dick simply smiled and looked forward to the future banning of Candyland from game nights.

[unseededtoast]

Rectify | Bucky Barnes

Part 16/37 | Part Fifteen, Part Seventeen

Summary: I've lived every day for the past five years looking over my shoulder. I knew they'd come for me, it was inevitable. I was foolish to think I could outrun my past. It's followed me everywhere I go, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Never would I have anticipated that the shadows would lead me to the light.

Bucky Barnes x OC

Series Warnings: Discussion of human trafficking, alcohol consumption, graphic depictions of violence, sexual content, discussion of suicidal thoughts.

a/n: Hi everyone, thank you for checking this out, I appreciate any and all support! This series is also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats/platforms! This is a completed series, and it's going to take some time for me to transfer it to Tumblr, so please bear with me!

"She's mine."

The water drips down the drain, and I place my hands on either side of the sink. I notice that I now have dark circles forming under my eyes. I've barely slept the past few days, and it's starting to catch up to me. I wash my face with cold water which wakes me up slightly. I also make sure to style my hair in a way that will hide the stitches.

Going to sleep for the rest of the day sounds inviting, but there is too much work to be done. Bruce is supposed to meet us today and I don't want to waste any time.

Since the night Bucky remembered he killed Tony's parents I brainstormed possible theories as to how to remove the Hydra programming from Bucky's mind. The way in which he's programmed makes it difficult to undo, but I don't think it's impossible.

I walk out of the bathroom and see Bucky standing by the window, already dressed for the day.

"You ready?" I ask, ready to see the others.

"Yeah, I think I'm ready." He says. He decided that staying in the room for a few days to level out his emotions would be best, and I agreed. I want him to fully process and navigate the feelings in a relaxed environment, and I don't want to rush him into doing something he's uncomfortable with. I especially didn't want him to face Tony until he was ready.

During the last few days I only left a few times to change my clothes and grab some food. Steve also helped us a lot, he gave Bucky some company when I needed to sleep for a few hours. Thankfully, the bruise on my arm is faded enough that it shouldn't draw attention.

Both of us get into the elevator and go down to the first floor. As usual, Steve, Natasha, and Tony are there. I see there are two plates out for Bucky and I, I suspect Steve is the one who set it up. With a smile on my face I join them, I missed them the past few days.

"It's about time you two show up again." Natasha teases with a small smile.

"Glad to be back." Bucky answers her as he sits down. Everyone is silent as they wrap up breakfast, but I can't wait any longer to ask,

"Does anyone know when Bruce is getting here?" I look between everyone gathered at the kitchen island.

"He should be here within the hour." Natasha answers. I nod my head, feeling relieved he's going to be here soon. I offer to do the dishes for everyone and nobody protests as they go about their day. Bucky stays to help dry the plates.

One of the benefits of being together over the past few days is that the awkwardness from setting the boundary has dissipated. We're back to normal and I can't be more thankful. Although there is a small part of me that still longs to be held close by him. I think back to that morning in the bunker more times than I'd like to admit; I like to reminisce about the comfort I felt, the warmth in my cheeks when he kissed my forehead.

I hand Bucky the last plate, our hands brushing past each other. His hand is soft and warm, just like it was when he held it weeks ago as we danced to the old record, I wish I could hold his hand one more time. However, I know that I can't and push the thought away as I dry my hands on a towel hanging on the wall next to the sink. As I wipe my hands on the towel I hear an aircraft outside. I feel a burst of energy and rush over to the window, seeing the aircraft land. Bruce and Fury step out of the plane, and I go to greet them as the others follow.

"Welcome back." I smile at them. Bruce returns the smile, Fury keeps a straight expression. Fury walks into the building without a word. Confused, I look to Bruce,

"What's that all about?" I ask, feeling anxious that Fury is in an unsociable mood because there's bad news. Bruce scratches the back of his neck, I can tell that it's nothing good.

"Well, you see, some of the Hydra agents got away. We were able to track them down, they're out in some European country. Fury wants to go after them now, he says we can't afford to wait." My face falls as Bruce explains what the current situation is.

"When are you all leaving?" I ask, feeling a heaviness in my heart that they all have to go so soon. I know they're going for a good cause, but I worry about any of them getting hurt at the hands of Hydra.

"Fury wants to leave today." I take a deep breath, knowing that I don't want them to go, but they have to. Maybe this time I can get some resources so Bucky and I aren't restricted to this building. I don't want another bunker situation, I could barely stand being cooped up in one place for too long. Plus, the option of venturing out would keep us occupied.

"Oh." Is all I can say to Bruce. He puts a hand on my shoulder and gives me a warm, understanding look.

"I don't want to go either, none of us do. But if we want Shield to come back in any capacity it has to be done. Not to mention we all want you to be safe as well, you're part of us now." A warmness spreads throughout me. It's heartwarming to hear that Bruce cares about me enough to consider my safety as a reason to go on this mission.

We walk into Tony's building and I see Fury giving everyone the rundown. I stand out of the way and listen in to what's being said.

"We tracked the remaining Hydra spies to a little country called Sokovia. It's been determined that their base is here." Fury references to a place highlighted in red on the high-tech hologram that's projected into the air. I cross my arms and scrunch my eyebrows, Sokovia sounds familiar.

"We're there to get in and get them out." Fury explains and everyone nods their head. I guess that's straight forward and simple enough. I watch as everyone talks amongst themselves, discussing seating arrangements. Fury steps off to the side, and I take the time to approach him.

"Director Fury, would you say it's a safe enough for Bucky and I to leave this building while you all carry out your mission?" I know it's not the most pressing issue, but I need to know if it's even a possibility to leave.

"You and Barnes should be okay, most of Hydra's spies fled the country. I can give you this, it includes an emergency beacon and a pre-loaded card." He reaches into his leather jacket and pulls out a thin wallet. I take the wallet and look inside, seeing a plastic card and a tiny red button that's been built into the leather.

"Just hold that button for three seconds if you need help, emergencies only." Fury explains and I nod my head, tucking the wallet into my pocket. I'm surprised he freely gave me the wallet, especially the money. I'm not going to complain though, I just wasn't expecting it.

I step back as everyone quickly gathers their things and begins loading the plane. They're leaving sooner than I thought they would be. I feel sad that they'll be gone for a few days at least, and while being around Bucky is nice, I'm going to miss everyone and their company. Steve walks over to me after he's done talking to Bucky.

"Take good care of yourselves, we'll be back in no time." He puts a hand on my shoulder and gives a reassuring squeeze. I nod my head,

"Be careful out there Steve. We'll miss you." I say as Tony and Bruce leave the building. Steve gives one last glance to Bucky before he goes out to the plane. Natasha gives me a small wave as she leaves. I watch as the plane takes off with lightning speed and just like that, they're all gone. I feel frustrated knowing I didn't even get to talk to Bruce for more than ten seconds.

I sit on the couch and put my head in my hands, taking a big sigh. I wish they could've stayed a little longer, at least long enough so that I could bounce some ideas off of Bruce. I don't know what Bucky and I are going to while they're gone. We'll have to venture out and find something to do or else I think I might actually lose my mind.

I rub my eyes, feeling tired from the lack of sleep and sadness from everyone leaving. I hope they're all careful and nobody gets hurt. I look around and see Bucky leaning on the kitchen island,

"Seems familiar doesn't it?" I try to lighten the mood. He nods his head,

"Yeah, just a little. At least this time we aren't trapped underground. We should go out and find something to do so we aren't just left alone here with our thoughts." He says and I agree.

"Yeah, I think I might take a short nap first." I say and get situated on the couch. I hear Bucky move around as I close my eyes, the rest feeling good and much needed.

After I wake up, I find Bucky and tell him I'm ready to go out. We both go back up to our rooms and change into some fresh clothes. I make myself look decently presentable, taking some time to make my hair look nice. I wish I had concealer so that I could cover the circles under my eyes, but I don't have that luxury at the moment. I close the door behind me and make my way back downstairs, where I see Bucky waiting on me.

"Well, I wonder if Tony has any cars he wouldn't mind lending us." I say and look around for a garage entrance. Though we've been here for about a week I haven't done much exploration. I go down the hall where the elevator is and start opening doors.

The first door is a bathroom, the second is an office space. I turn the handle of the third door and see an open garage with three cars. I step in and see that they're all flashy sports cars that are probably worth more than my entire life. I hear Bucky walk in behind me,

"Which one do we borrow?" I ask him. He looks at the options and decides on the one in the middle. It's a blacked out Audi, it has to be one of the latest models, it's very sleek. I see keys hanging on the wall, and match the key to the car Bucky chose. I twirl the keyring around on my finger,

"You ready?" I ask with a smirk on my face. This should be fun. Bucky gets into the passenger seat. I start the car which has a nice purr to it and navigate out of the garage. I make my way down the long and winding driveway as Bucky presses some of the buttons in front of us. I notice the screen of the car has a navigation system on it, showing a small town to the left.

I pull out onto the road and the car takes off, it's a lot faster than I anticipated it being. I smile, loving the power and speed. Bucky presses a button which causes the roof of the car to transform into a convertible, the crisp air whips our hair around. I quickly look to Bucky who has a wide smile on his face as well. This is the most fun we've had in a long time. I turn the radio up as we head towards the small town, bobbing my head to the beat. Within a few minutes we enter the town, and I see there's not much to do, but there is a bar.

"How do you feel about going to the bar?" I ask Bucky loudly so he can hear me over the wind. He nods his head, agreeing with the idea. I pull into a parking space and press the button which makes the car's roof set back in place. We get out of the car and I lock it, tucking the keys into my pocket. I look at Bucky with a smile as we head into the bar. This should be fun.

For being a small town, there sure are a lot of people in the bar. The music is loud, the smell of smoke is in the air. I walk up to the bar and wait for the bartender to come to us.

"I'll take a margarita on the rocks." I order once the man has come over to us. Bucky orders as well and we wait for our drinks. I hand the man the prepaid card to start our tab for the night and then we find somewhere to hang out. We spot an area in the back and make our way over. I notice that Bucky's opted for long sleeves, and he's put a glove over his metal hand, probably to not draw attention to us.

I take a drink and look around at all the people. They're all laughing and talking to one another, some are already getting rowdy. It's only a little after eight o'clock, the night is just getting started.

One margarita turns into two, two turns into four. Once it hits ten o'clock, some of the employees move tables, creating a space for people to mingle if they want to. The genre of choice for the night seems to be 80's rock. I don't know every song, but some of them sound familiar. I down the rest of my drink and put the glass on the table, setting it down harder than I meant to. I laugh a little at the mistake and look at the people who have begun filling up the open space. They're all having fun, singing and dancing with one another.

I hear a familiar beat, a song I finally recognize. Without thinking I head out to join the other people, letting myself cut loose for once. I move my body to the beat, not caring what I look like. A man taps my shoulder and I look at what's in his hand, he's offering me a shot. I take the shot and down it, handing the glass back to the man. I go back to dancing, and feel someone's hands on each side of my waist. I turn to see the man who just gave me a shot,

"So what's your name, pretty thing?" He asks,

"Adalyn." I say and the man smirks.

"You're not from around here are you? You have a cute little accent." He says and I laugh. Why is my accent always a topic of interest to men?

"I am from Russia." I answer the man and he nods his head,

"That's hot." He says. I laugh again and keep dancing. The man keeps his hands on my waist, his grasp firm. The man isn't unattractive by any means, he has dark stubble on his jaw, his hair is long and flowing. He's wearing a red shirt with a leather jacket.

A couple more songs go by and the man still hasn't let me go. Though I'm drunk, I still know I don't want the man's attention anymore. I try to move his hands off my waist but he keeps them in place.

"Where are you going? Our night is just getting started." I try to pry his fingers off of me once more. I feel a slight rush of panic flow through me because I know this man isn't going to let me go easily. The man dips his head down and I feel his lips connect with mine, and I feel my eyes widen as I go to push him away.

But as soon as his lips touch mine, they're gone. I stagger backwards from the sudden movement and see the man facing Bucky, who has a murderous look on his face.

"Woah man what's your problem?" He asks Bucky. Bucky doesn't say a word as he gently grabs my arm and guides me towards the door. As we pass the man, he stops Bucky by grabbing his bicep.

"Dude, that's my score of the night find your own." Bucky lightly pushes me to the side, and it's like time is going in slow motion. I see Bucky punch the man and he falls to the ground.

"She's mine." Bucky says in a low voice. I feel warmth rise in my cheeks, I'd be lying if I said I didn't find that attractive. For a moment, I wish that the boundary between us hadn't been set. We leave the bar and go back to Stark's car. I feel slightly off balance and know I can't drive.

"Where did you put the keys, sweetheart?" Bucky softly asks me as I lean on Tony's car for stability.

"They're in my pocket." I feel some of my words run together and I feel more dizzy than I did inside the bar. The cool air helps a little. I feel Bucky's hand in my pocket as he grabs the keys and unlocks the door. He helps me into the car and shuts the door before making his way into the driver's side.

Bucky drives back to Tony's building, and I rest my head on the glass window. I close my eyes, feeling the spinning sensation. Hating the feeling of the spins, I sit up and look at Bucky. Without thinking, I reach a hand over the center console and put it on his thigh. He looks at me quickly, I see the confusion on his face.

"Bucky you're so good to me. You protected me from that man and you're driving back." I say, feeling uncharacteristically emotional. Bucky puts his warm hand on top of mine and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"You would do the same for me. You help me every single day, Adalyn." He says, momentarily taking his eyes off the road. I feel as though I could cry from his sweet words. I keep my hand on his thigh for the remainder of the ride, he keeps his hand on top of mine.

He pulls into the garage and I grab his arm as I get out of the car and into the building. Wordlessly, we make our way up to our rooms and Bucky gently lays me down in the bed, the silk sheets feeling amazing against my warm skin. He pulls the covers over me, and before he can walk away I grab his hand. He looks down to me,

"Will you stay with me?" I ask quietly, not sure what he's going to say. He looks conflicted, but after a moment nods his head. He goes to turn off the light and sits on top of the covers. It reminds me of how I was in his room the past couple nights.

I keep a hold of his hand as I feel myself drift off to sleep, the warmth bringing me comfort.

[lazycats-stuff]

The New Heir - Chapter 1

And here we go everyone. Again, feedback is greatly appreciated. Warnings: mentions of bullying, kids can be cruel, minor violence, stalking Word count: 1.5k

Prologue, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Elias blinked a few times, looking at the board. His last period was math and as much as he loved the subject, he didn't like the last period of the day, regardless of what subject it is. He forced himself to focus, looking at the fractions.

He wrote down a little note next to a certain example, making sure that he wouldn't forget how it's solved. Elias' eyes went straight to the clock.

3 more minutes. Just 3 more minutes and he would be free. He just has to make it for 3 more minutes. His eyes travelled over the classroom. His best friend stopped writing a minute or 2 ago and was just watching the clock.

Elias' eyes travelled over the people in the classroom. Everyone was just ready to go home and rest. Everyone was tired. Some were following along and some were just mentally not there.

And Elias' eyes fell down on the one and only Damian Wayne. He still remembers how shocked the Gotham public was when it was revealed that Damian was Bruce Wayne's biological son. Him and his mom remember being shocked about it.

And she was more shocked that he went to public school and not private, but Bruce Wayne often said that he wanted his children to have a normal life, despite their celebrity status that they obtained by default.

But Damian Wayne was the first kid of the four sons that was biologically connected to Bruce. Elias didn't know what to think about him at all. He was stand offish at school, but he was polite towards the teachers.

And he seemed closed off, as if he put a very strong wall around himself. Why would a 12 year old had to put up walls around himself? Elias didn't want to judge, but it was strange for a 12 year old to be so closed off.

His eyes travelled back to the clock, seeing that there was a minute left. He subtly put his pencil in his pencil case, along side his eraser. When the bell rang, everyone decided to pack it out of here.

Elias' heard something about don't forget the worksheet for the Monday. He gave it out at the beginning of the subject so Elias already had it in his notebook.

" Come on Elias, " Theo said, trying to hurry up his friend.

" Give me a moment. " Elias said, putting the last of his stuff in the bag.

" You are slow as hell. " Theo remarked, laughing at the the middle finger he got from Elias.

They left the classroom and went to their lockers to get their stuff. Elias didn't put a lot of stuff in it, he just stuffed his jacket in there. He took his jacket out and put it on. It was the end of September and it was getting progressively colder and colder.

There were some cheers and some howling. What the hell? Theo and Elias looked at one another. It was the bully of the school, Mark Johnson. Elias hated him.

He never liked bullies. Mark was an 8th grader and thankfully it was his last year here, but he was taller than the rest of the kids and that gave him a certain edge. Not to mention his 'friends'. More appropriate term would be lackeys. Maybe even sheep.

" Is that Mark? " Elias asked, rubbing his eyes.

" Yup. He is bullying Damian Wayne. He is holding something above his hand and Damian looks like he is going snap. "

Elias sighed as he watched it. Why would Mark bully a Wayne? Out of all people in this school, the biological son of Bruce Wayne? Nope. Not happening. Anybody who has a brain would see that that is a bad idea.

" Hold my bag. " Elias said, shrugging the said bag off of his shoulders.

" Elias, what are you going to do? " Theo asked, tilting his head.

" Just watch. " Elias said, giving his friend a smirk.

" Oh God, Eli don't do it. " Theo said, seeing already what was going to happen.

" Don't worry. " Elias assured Theo.

" I don't want you to be suspended. " Theo called out after him as Elias made his way, through the crowd. Theo sighed. Elias was to brave for his own good.

" Mark, give Damian his- " He stopped, looking up to see a sketchbook, then dropping his eyes lower to meet Mark's eyes " Sketchbook. " He said, making sure to keep his face neutral.

" Or what? " Mark said, smirking at Elias, leaning his head down. Damian was glanced at Elias. Now what?

" Or we will have a repeat of the last time we were in this predicament. " Elias said calmly, watching as the smirk disappeared. The crowd let out an ooh, clearly knowing what Elias was talking about.

Damian, in fact, didn't know what Elias did. He watched Mark's wheels turn inside his head. Elias just raised his eyebrow, silently asking him ' and what is it? '

Mark held the notebook even higher. Elias sighed, shaking his head.

" Don't say that I didn't warn you. " Was the only warning that Damian and Mark got before Elias swung at Mark's jaw. Mark grunted and stumbled back into the wall. Elias grabbed the notebook back and smacked Mark with it across the face. The crowd was laughing at Mark and Elias handed Damian his sketchbook.

" Thank you. Did you really punch him in the face before? " Damian asked, opening the doors to get out.

" I have. And damn, it felt good. " Elias said, taking his bag from Theo.

" It was a pretty sight. " Theo confirmed, moving out in the fresh air.

Damian and Elias followed too. Elias closed his eyes for a moment. He sighed, feeling the harsh wind against his face. Fall came to Gotham.

Damian went straight to the car waiting for him.

" He has a butler Elias. " Theo said, watching the car.

" He is rich. " Elias said back, walking down the stairs of the school.

" I know, but still! Imagine, a butler that does everything you want on a whim. " Theo dreamed as they walked side by side. Elias laughed at that. He didn't need a butler.

" Why are you laughing at me? " Theo whined, walking next to him as they were walking home.

" Because. Just because he has a butler, that doesn't mean that the butler does everything. I would bet you that he still gets stuff on his own. " Elias said, looking around as they stopped at a traffic stop. He didn't have a good feeling.

He saw a tall man, with black hair and green eyes, dressed like any other Gotham resident, but something was off. Way off. He was across the street from them and he was looking at them both. Elias' hunch went off.

" Theo, follow my lead and don't panic, " Elias said, grabbing Theo's arm.

Theo stayed quiet, guessing that Elias got a hunch. Elias had a detector for danger and that was a very useful skill to have in Gotham.

" Can I get an explanation? " Theo asked as they were walking quickly.

" I think a guy is following us. " Elias said quietly, seeing a subway. It was busy so they could lose him there.

" A hunch? " Theo pressed, walking down the old metal stairs.

" Yup. " Elias said, still not letting go off Theo's arm.

" Oh God. "

Elias stayed quiet, moving through the crowd. He looked back for a moment and he saw that the man was looking around. Elias pushed on forward, seeing the exit. Elias had a tight grip on Theo's arm and he moved him to go up the old metal stairs, making the run around the corner.

They have lost him.

" Come on, lets go. " They had around 10 minutes to their building.

" Elias, I can't run that fast. " Theo said, huffing.

" Well, I don't care. You are going to thank me one day. " Elias said, sighing in relief as they saw their building. He took his keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door.

Theo and Elias took deep breaths.

" Oh my God. " Theo said, panting.

" I know. "

" As much as I love this city, I hate it at the same time. " Theo declared, going to the elevator. He pressed the up button and Elias moved to stand next to Theo.

" I feel you. "

They stepped into the elevator once it opened it's doors. Elias pressed 2 and Theo pressed 3. The doors closed and the lift moved upwards.

They stood in silence and Elias said goodbye to Theo. He stepped out and unlocked the apartment door. Whew... This was insane. He took his jacket off and took his shoes off. His mom was going to be home soon and he would be able to tell her.

Who even was that man?

He went to the bathroom to wash his hands, sighing quietly. He went back to his room after drying his hands. A nap would be in order first.

He was tired beyond belief.

[cryinginsidebecauseofbrutasha]

Day 7: Medicine (by Havelin if you want the inspiration)

Natasha watched the rain, sitting outside the compound in the refurbished greenhouse. It was her comfort space, sitting comfortably in the solace of blankets and fairy lights. It was small and cozy. No one knew about it.

Nat sighed.

They had lost a really bad fight between her team and a really enthusiastic branch of the Black Order, who had come back for vengeance, she assumed, and while, thankfully, there weren't any casualties, everyone was a little shaken up.

Natasha stared at her phone, screen dark, as she contemplated calling him.

On one hand, she might get a few words of sympathy. On the other, did Natasha really want a few words of sympathy?

Nat shook her head at herself, swallowing her pride. She went to her starred contacts list and pressed the top number. It rang once before he picked up.

"Nat?"

Natasha sighed. She didn't even know why she was holding her breath for him to answer. He had never left her hanging. "Hey, Bruce." She took a shaky breath. "How are you?"

The was a short silence before she heard a car door being closed. "I'm in my car," the scientist answered. "Are you at the greenhouse?"

Natasha exhaled a laugh. "How'd you know?"

"I just do." Bruce sounded rueful, but maybe it was just the audio quality. "What happened?"

Nat shook her head as if he could see her. "Just... the last mission. We didn't really... you know."

"Oh." The scientist didn't offer up the words of sympathy Natasha had wondered about. "I'll be there in a few minutes. Talk to you then?"

"Sure." Nat closed her eyes. "Hey, Bruce?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

There was a brief pause, then– "Anything."

Natasha smiled as she hung up.

A few minutes later, Bruce knocked on the greenhouse door.

"Come in!" she called.

Bruce stepped in and looked around. "You redecorated," he noted.

Natasha sent him a wry smile. "Well, I couldn't keep your quantum theory Pinterest board up here forever." She watched him sit down at the foot of her egg chair. "It's my resting place and it made my head hurt."

The scientist smiled softly. "I could teach you."

Nat rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean." She sighed, leaning back into her chair. "Things have been crazy."

"This week, month?" She opened her eyes to see Bruce watching her carefully. "You were out of reach for a while."

"This whole..." Natasha waved her hands around to try and convey the sheer vastness of crazy she experienced. "... Thing." She turned slightly to look at Bruce. "How are you?"

He shrugged. "I'm fine. Working on a project at the moment."

"About what?"

"Time travel." Bruce shifted in his seat. "I just wanted to try. I have schematics running right now. Uh, Tony's actually over here, with Morgan. We were hanging out."

Natasha blinked. "Oh my god." She sat up. "I interrupted you. I'm sorry."

Bruce shook his head. "It's fine. We weren't getting anywhere." He chuckled. "Plus, after Ultron, I had this safeguard installed so that once I leave the place for more than ten minutes, everything is self-contained. It won't break. Even with Tony and his baby with sticky fingers."

Natasha sighed.

They were both startled by Bruce's phone pinging.

He checked it and sighed. "On another hand... they could just figure it out." Bruce looked at Nat. "Do you need me to stay? I can have it set on a back burner for now. Time travel isn't urgent."

Natasha shrugged lightly. "Go do your time travel thing. I'll be fine."

Bruce looked unconvinced. "Tasha..."

His phone pinged again.

Bruce was halfway between sitting and standing.

Nat bit her lip. "Actually, could you stay a while?" she asked softly. "If you can."

"Of course I can." He sat back down, but Natasha pulled him up into the egg chair with her. "Back to our old habits, aren't we?" he commented with a small smile.

Nat returned with a shameless one.

They sat in a comfortable silence, squished next to each other even though the egg chair had plenty of empty space between them and the walls.

Natasha glanced at Bruce only to see him already looking at her.

"What?" he laughed quietly at her smirk.

"Nothing." Nat smiled to herself. She looked back to see him again, gazing at her. "You're staring."

"Is that so wrong?"

Nat rolled her eyes and linked their arms. "This reminds me of before the... you know." She leaned her head against Bruce's shoulder. "I think... maybe if I had tried a little harder, we might've been together still, right now."

He was still looking at her. "We could still try again. There's still time."

"According to who?"

"The world." She felt Bruce drop his head on hers. "We aren't dead yet."

Natasha laughed. "That doesn't give me a reasonable timeframe, you know."

"I made you laugh."

Nat huffed. "With your face, it's not that hard."

"Ouch."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Natasha got on her knees and sat back on her heels. "I think we should try again."

Bruce's smile widened. "Oh, really?" he asked.

"Give me one chance," Natasha said. "I don't deserve it, but give me just one chance."

The scientist curled his arm around her waist. "Who said you don't deserve it?"

"Me." Nat grinned up at him. "Are you going to send me to a psychiatrist?"

Bruce rolled his eyes affectionately. "Ha. At least you've stopped calling them 'shrinks'."

"I have."

"And it shows some growth."

Natasha sighed and looked Bruce in the eyes. "When I ended things... did I tell you why?"

"You said it was too much," he said. "Though you weren't very convincing, for a spy."

Nat settled into his arms. "That was part of it... but another part of me was scared of what would happen if I followed through on plan A."

Bruce smiled slightly, a little confused on the outside. "What was plan A?" he prompted.

"Telling you I loved you that night," Natasha confessed. "Over a romantic candlelit dinner and a bouquet of a dozen red roses."

"Aww. You're a romantic."

"Of course I am." Nat sighed. "It's a pain." She had a sudden moment of forgetfulness. "Why did I get you to come here again?"

Bruce chuckled. "You asked me how I was and I knew something was up so I just came."

"Typical." Natasha nudged him a little. "You're a romantic too. Running in the rain, 'I-remember-every-tiny-detail' kind of romantic. Though," she added with a smirk, "that can be translated that you're a creep."

Her scientist rolled his eyes. "Ha."

"It's true!" Nat grinned. "But hey, you fixed my headache. You're like my own personal brand of Tylenol."

Bruce laughed slightly. "Of course. I'm headache medicine."

"It's a compliment!"

"I have no doubt it is."

"I love you," Natasha blurted out. She immediately hung her head and whispered quietly to herself, "Fuck." She looked back up. "That was not how that was supposed to go."

Bruce smiled. "I love you too."

Natasha opened her mouth and closed it. "Th–thank you." She blinked. "Yeah."

"Tongue-tied?" he teased.

Nat batted his hand away annoyedly. "Shut up, Banner," she muttered.

"Anything."

--

Here's the song that inspired me today! It's called Medicine by Havelin. 

[2326315]

Economically underprivileged going hungry

Wolverhampton’s impoverished are under food crisis with soaring food prices.

By Dayoun Chin

Tue 9 May 2023

WOLVERHAMPTON, May 9 – The price of living has increased rapidly in the United Kingdom, increasing by 15.7% in April, breaking the record for the highest inflation rate in the food category, according to the British Retail Consortium (BRC). Helen Dickinson, the Chief Executive of BRC said, “We should start to see food prices come down in the coming months as the cut to wholesale prices and other cost pressures filter through.” Despite the positive outlook, the already-squeezed households are suffering from the shortage of food.

On April 22, the Elias Mattu Foundation Food Bank located in Owen Road, Wolverhampton announced on its Instagram account its possible closure. “As much as we don’t want to, we might have to close the Elias Mattu Foundation Food Bank. We have enough food for another two to three weeks. We feel so sad today to announce this news. Hoping for a miracle to continue our food bank,” the post said.

The Elias Mattu Foundation Food Bank supports families, the elderly, and international students in financial hardships by sending food parcels including staple food, tinned food, and vegetables. With the local food banks being threatened to close, those who are in need of help are at risk of getting their food cut off.

So-eun, 22, is an international student studying at the University of Wolverhampton. “I worked multiple shifts back in Korea to earn the living expenses for my time here in Wolverhampton. I cannot work in the United Kingdom because I do not have a visa, so I have a limited amount of money to spend during my stay here.”

She saved more money than the estimated amount of expenditure, based on the total spending of her seniors who studied in the United Kingdom, but it is running out.  “Everything is so expensive now compared to their price a few months ago. This means I have to cut down expenses somewhere, and I have no choice but to eat less. I don’t remember the last time I ate out. I am comparing the prices for every item I purchase, down to decimals, and it is wearing me out. The currency exchange rate getting worse for me, making the situation even worse. I might even have to reach out to my parents for extra money next month, something I desperately wanted to avoid. It just feels impossible for me to make ends meet,” she said.

So-eun used to buy fresh groceries like meat, fruit, and vegetables but said her eating habits have changed due to inflation. “Nowadays, I am buying more frozen food, instant noodles, and items on sale near expiry dates to fill my stomach. The cheapest eggs that I am buying are rarely in stock because everyone is buying the same ones. I go to the grocery store in time for them to restock, just to make sure,” she added.

“I am skipping meals as well. I used to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but I am having brunch or skipping breakfast altogether. It is cheaper and more filling to have big meals with my friends and flatmates at dinner rather than eating by myself, and I know many of my friends are in the same situation. We are shopping bulk products and splitting it up to cut the expenses, too,” said So-eun. She regrets not doing it earlier on.

Bruce, 48, is living in Dudley Street, Wolverhampton with his dog. He has been getting help from passers-by. “I get by from the changes and food. Everything has gone up ten pence or more, and I am forced to make cheaper choices because my dog and I completely rely on the help of others. Thankfully, people here have been really generous, and they are helping me out constantly despite the inflation,” he said. People walking by him on Dudley Street have been sharing their food and change, even handing some snacks to his dog. Bruce did not immediately eat the hot pizza given to him by a pedestrian. Instead, he put it in his backpack to eat later when he became really hungry because he never knows when he will get food.

He is not reaching out to food banks or churches for either financial or food aid because he feels like there are people who need more support from those facilities than he does. “I just wish the government will offer more housing opportunities and food for the homeless,” said Bruce.

After speaking out about their difficulties, the Elias Mattu Foundation Food Bank has received donations, including one thousand pounds from a single donator. Urgent donations in need include tinned food like beans and tomatoes, cereal, and rice. “We need your help with donations to continue our support for the elderly and vulnerable people in need,” the Elias Mattu Foundation Food Bank stated.