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green-eyedfirework · 23 days

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It started with the Morino contract.

No. That was a lie. It really started—not really really, that was the time Nightwing leaned up when Slade was pinning him to the wall and grinned, soft and slow and wicked, and Slade had growled don’t be a tease and Nightwing murmured who said I’m teasing and Slade had half-thought it was a trap, but no, apparently Nightwing’s taste in people that could overpower him ran to villains too—with a lazy morning in Dick’s apartment in Bludhaven.

Slade had been making breakfast, idly watching Dick walk around in a too-big shirt and nothing else, when Dick had gotten a phone call. The lazy mornings were...he didn’t want to say content, but after the third time Dick asked him to stay for breakfast, blue eyes sleepy but bright, and clarified that he wasn’t making it a Thing, Jesus Christ, Slade, I’m not trapping you into a promise ring, it’s just food—they were peaceful. The kid wasn’t a half-bad cook, he definitely didn’t believe in covering clothes, and sometimes Slade even got another fuck before he headed out.

Dick ended his phone call and came back into the kitchen, giving him a wry smile. “You’re going to have to leave. B will be here in ten minutes.”

Slade raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the cooking hashbrown.

“Don’t be a baby, you can make some more. Or just buy some.” Dick had grabbed his arm and was tugging him out of the kitchen. “What you definitely don’t want is to still be here when Bruce shows up.”

Slade allowed himself to be pulled out, casting a last glance at his hashbrown. “Don’t tell me you’re ashamed of me.”

“Ha. There are several things that Bruce should never know, and that I’m fucking Deathstroke the Terminator is one of them. Shoo.”

“Rude.”

“I’m sorry, do you want Batman on your ass? No? Then I’ll see you later, Slade. And thanks for breakfast!”

“You’re a brat,” Slade collected his stuff—he hadn’t come to Bludhaven for business, so there was only one gun and a couple of knives to grab—and headed for the window. “And I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because I’m flexible,” Dick grinned at him as he shimmied into a pair of leggings, as delightfully shameless as always, and Slade allowed himself one last look at that ass before leaving.

He didn’t understand the twisting feeling in his stomach.

Dick had done nothing wrong aside from stealing his breakfast, Slade had absolutely no desire to meet Batman, and Slade had just as unceremoniously kicked Dick out from his own safehouses.

It was nothing. He was just hungry. He hunted down food, and put it out of his head.

Until the Morino contract.

Slade didn’t usually take assassination contracts in Bludhaven—best not to rock that particular boat—but he’d followed Morino down from New York City, and he wasn’t going to wait for him to leave just to put a bullet in his head. Besides, the way his luck went, Morino would end up fleeing to Gotham, and Slade was not dealing with the Bats.

The setup was easy—he took position, unpacked and assembled his rifle, waited. And took the shot.

He was halfway through disassembly when he heard the whine of a grapple.

“You chased someone into my city,” Nightwing was stalking forward, all furious lines, “to kill them?!”

Slade made a show of glancing around. “I don’t see your name on it,” he said dryly, palming his knives as he rose up.

“Real cute,” Nightwing snarled, slipping his escrima free.

“Next time I’ll take them outside city limits to spare your delicate sensibilities,” Slade drawled.

Nightwing growled and lunged, Slade met his attack, and the familiar motions of a fight began. Just when Slade was starting to suspect that Nightwing was actually pissed and this fight wasn’t foreplay, Nightwing made an inarticulate sound and practically smashed their faces together, kissing Slade like he was trying to devour him.

That, Slade could get behind, and he let the niggling question go as he matched Nightwing’s intensity.

~#~

Slade slipped out before Dick woke up—not an unusual occurrence, but certainly rarer over the past few months—and told himself it was because he didn’t want to deal with Nightwing’s whining over Slade killing someone in his city.

~#~

It was a lot harder to excuse his avoidance of Bludhaven. He rationalized it by saying he was giving Dick time to cool down—except Dick had made no indication of being angry after the fight, he’d cuddled up to Slade without only a sleepy yawn after the fuck, and Slade wasn’t sure why he was suddenly so uncertain with the state of their relationship.

They had sex. Great sex. Sleeping afterwards, well, that was just comfortable, and breakfast in the morning was a bonus. Their respective jobs had never gotten in the way before—Dick hadn’t made any mention of ground rules outside of sex, didn’t care. It was just sex.

He could almost see Wintergreen’s raised eyebrow when he kept passing up contracts on the Eastern Seaboard.

#my snippets #sladick #slade catches feelings first #he wants a refund

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n0cturna1-m3 · 1 year

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Midnight Chatting | Bruce Wayne x Male Reader | Fluff

Fem/Minors DNI

Request; Too god damn long to put in. Here's the link.

Warnings; Bruce is a mediocre father, mention of anxiety attack, Damian Wayne and Bruce Wayne have autism (confirmed 😐🤞), insecurities, minor hurt/full comfort.

A/N; Slowly gettin through reqs... probably gonna do a few fluff/angst ones until I'm feelin up to doin a smut fic 😋

Synopsis; Some people have a knack for breaking through the hearts of cold people. Bruce is lucky enough to be in a committed relationship with one of these people.

1.9k words

It had been almost a year since Bruce had begun dating Y/N, a young man he met by coincidence. He worked at a coffee shop that Bruce frequented, and eventually, Y/N made the first move and asked him out on a date. It was likely one of the longest romantic relationships he had ever been in, and everything was moving smoothly.

Sure, the couple would bicker every once in a while, usually because of Bruce coming home bruised and battered, but they always managed to reconcile before it became heated.

Y/N started living with Bruce later in their relationship. It was a tedious process, mostly because Y/N had to be informed of Bruce’s vigilante duties. He was hesitant to believe Bruce, but his eyes gave away nothing but the truth. Y/N often worried for him, but Bruce managed to reassure him even after the most dangerous nights.

Bruce’s adopted children were cold towards him at first, save for Dick who was fond of him immediately and Jason whom he still hasn’t met. They would give him stern eyes, but eventually, they began warming up to the man.

Tim was the first to cave. He was frustrated with Bruce for leaving him out of a mission he had found a massive amount of information on, and he was angry about it. Tim sat in his room, sulking with his arms crossed over his chest in bed.

He wanted to ignore the knock on his door, telling the person to “leave him alone,” but Y/N pushed the door open anyway and sat on his bed. Tim glared at him and turned his head away.

“I know how it feels,” he said. Tim perked up, glancing at the man sitting at the end of his bed.

“How would you know?” he scoffed. But his mind was whirring with anticipation. He wanted to know how Y/N could possibly understand how he felt.

“What, you think Bruce hasn’t left me behind before? He’s a selfish little man child,” Y/N said, laughing slightly. Tim smiled but covered it up quickly. “It sucks to be left out when you work hard for something. I know it does.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No, it’s not. I’m not out fighting crime like you guys, but I am an adult and I have experienced this. What you’re feeling right now.”

“What am I feeling then?” Tim asked, furrowing his eyebrows. He wanted Y/N to stop patronising him. He was treating him like a child.

“You feel hurt, and left behind,” he said, looking into Tim’s eyes. “You feel abandoned.”

Tim’s throat tightened and he hung his head.

“It’s not fair that he gets to call all the shots,” Tim said, sniffling. He wiped his eyes before he could cry.

“No, it’s not.” Y/N moved up the bed to sit next to Tim and nudged his shoulder with his own. “But you can always come to me when you’re upset with him. He pisses me off too.”

Tim sniffled and looked up at Y/N with teary eyes.

“He does?”

“Of course!” Y/N laughed. “But I love him. He cares about me, and he cares about you, too. That’s what I like about him.”

Tim eyed Y/N before resting his head on Y/N’s chest and hugging him. Y/N held him close and squeezed him, stroking his hair with one hand.

“Thank you,” Tim whispered.

Damian was a more difficult task. He hated Bruce, he hated his brothers, and he hated Y/N. It seemed like he hated the world. Y/N could understand. The cards he had been dealt were unfortunate.

The straw that broke the camel's back, or Damian’s resolve for his burning hatred of Y/N, was something he hadn’t even expected.

Damian had been awake for too many hours, staring at the screen in front of him and sipping on coffee while trying to find any sort of evidence. Bruce was doing similarly beside him. Damian’s head ached, his eyes burned, and his patience was running thin.

Eventually that thinness broke. It snapped and Damien slammed his fists on the table, startling Bruce. Damian could practically feel everything around him in excruciating detail. Every sound, every smell, everything that touched his skin, it caused him pain.

He stood up and anxiously pushed his hair out of his face, desperately trying to get it off of his skin. Bruce stared at him in confusion. He had no idea what to do. Y/N rushed into the room after hearing the commotion and sighed at the sight.

“Damian,” he said softly. Damian turned to him and glared, hands still in his hair and pulling. “Come here, kid.”

Damian didn't know what to do. He felt an overwhelming emotion that he didn't understand, so he followed Y/N, who took one of his hands in his and held it.

He felt embarrassed. He felt like a toddler having a tantrum. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, and his ears burned with anxiety. Y/N walked him to his room and opened the door.

“Sit down.”

Damian walked to his bed and sat on the edge, acutely aware of every step that Y/N took as he walked to the window and drew the curtains, causing the room to go black. Y/N grabbed a throw blanket that was laid messily on the floor. Damian always kicked it and the loose sheet off of his bed. He didn’t like how it rested on his body over his comforter. Y/N wrapped the blanket around him and crouched down to be eye level with him.

“I’ll be right back,” he said quietly.

Y/N left the room, closing the door behind him quietly, and left Damian alone. The silence was pleasant, the lack of light was appreciated, and when Y/N returned with a wet cloth that he placed over his eyes, he felt a wave of calm wash over him. He flopped back on the bed, Y/N readjusted the blanket and cloth again.

“I’ll come back in half an hour,” Y/N whispered before leaving Damian again.

He had never experienced this kind of treatment and care before, perhaps only from Alfred. But this was different. He felt like he had a real parent.

Sure, he had Bruce, but he wasn’t much of a father. Y/N cared for him deeply, he could tell. Maybe he was too hard on him, Damian thought as he sunk into the bed. He practically turned into goo with how limp he went.

When Y/N returned, Damian thanked him. Y/N smiled and told him that he was happy to help.

After that, both Tim and Damian would spend time with Y/N frequently. They would watch movies together, gossip about Bruce, eat together.

It was only when Damian asked Y/N to come with him to put him to bed after dinner that Bruce noticed. He followed the two and watched Y/N tuck him in and crouch by the side of his bed, speaking with him softly. It was too quiet for Bruce to hear, but from the smile on Damian’s face, he could tell that whatever it was made him happy.

Y/N stood up and turned off the light before leaving, giving Bruce a smile when he saw him.

“How the hell did you do that?” Bruce asked. Bruce rarely saw Damian smile. He was stern, like him.

“Do what?” Y/N asked, feigning ignorance.

“Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb with me,” he said with a small grin. Y/N laughed and ignored him, instead getting ready for bed.

The couple changed into their sleepwear, or lack thereof in one of their cases, and crawled into bed. Y/N assumed his position as the big spoon, wrapping one arm around Bruce with the other under his head.

Y/N fell asleep quickly. Bruce felt his warm breath on his neck and the calm beat of his heart against his back. He was almost asleep when he thought of Damian.

He was suddenly aware of the time that Tim and Damian would spend with Y/N and how happy they were in the past few months. It was Y/N that caused it. A small gesture that went far to make his boys open up to him. He was suddenly overwhelmed with adoration for his partner. He was getting along with his family. Although he hadn’t yet met Jason, Bruce was sure that Jason would like him, despite his disdain for Bruce.

Pride filled his chest, though it suddenly washed away. Y/N was perfect. He was too perfect. He was too good of a man to be living with a man like Bruce, someone so cold and oblivious. He wasn’t a good person. Y/N was a good person. He was an amazing person.

Bruce didn’t know that he had begun crying until Y/N kissed his neck and hugged him tighter.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked groggily. Bruce could still hear the sleep in his voice.

He wiped his eyes and took a shaky breath before saying, “It’s nothing.”

Y/N scoffed and sat up, pushing Bruce onto his back and looking down at him while holding his face in his hands. He leaned down and kissed his cheek.

“You don’t have to be ashamed to cry.”

Bruce’s pupils dilated, his blue eyes turning crystal as tears streamed down his face. Y/N pulled him up into a hug and held him tightly while combing his fingers through his jet black hair and murmuring ‘It’s okay’ into his ear.

Eventually Bruce calmed enough to talk to Y/N about it. He sat back against the headboard, Y/N doing the same beside him and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Do you wanna talk to me about it?” he asked. Bruce took a deep breath.

“I think you’re too good for me,” Bruce said, turning his head to meet Y/N’s eyes. “You’re so kind, and you’re an amazing person, and you're so good with Tim and Damian, I just-” Bruce hiccuped and covered his eyes, rubbing them with a deep frown and furrowed eyebrows. “I feel like you should be with someone better.”

Y/N said nothing. He just pulled Bruce into his chest and kissed his hair while rubbing his back and holding the back of his neck.

“I know what I want, Bruce,” he said. Bruce listened keenly. “I love you, and I want you, and there's nothing more that I could ask other than to spend the rest of our lives together.”

Bruce looked up at him and huffed. Y/N smiled.

“I would come back to you a million lifetimes over.”

“Yeah, me too,” Bruce said. Y/N kissed his forehead and then his lips before wiping Bruce’s face with his hand.

“Can you sleep?” Y/N asked. Bruce nodded.

Y/N laid down again and Bruce faced him this time. He wrapped his legs around one of Y/N’s thighs and held on to him, burying his face in his neck and breathing in deeply. Y/N gently let his fingernails scratch Bruce’s back until he fell asleep, then letting his hand rest on his lower back.

His breaths were slow, and his heartbeat matched Y/N’s as they slotted together like puzzle pieces.

#bruce wayne x male reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman x male reader #batman x reader #dc x male reader #dc x reader #male reader #x male reader #x reader #fluff #lil bit o angst #not really tho

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starlightshadowsworld · 9 months

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"Bruce didn't mean to hurt Jason's neck, it was an accident."

Motherfucker threw a batarang which is basically a knife boomerang.

Threw it at the wall directly behind Jason at his shoulder neck.

... The fuck did he think it was going to do? Get stuck into a wall? Than why would he throw it?

It was going to bounce off and cut through Jason's neck.

The Joker, the fucker Joker congratulations him for his trick shot.

He knew what he was doing.

And it's fucked.

Which is probably why the Under the Red Hood movie changed it to Bruce throwing the knife into Jason's gun.

So it hurt his hand and not his neck.

This is why he's pissed at you man, you didn't just choose the Joker.

You decided your son deserves death more than his murderer does.

No wonder Jason has issues.

And incase anyone thinks thats just a one time note... Nope.

Bruce's said to Jason, multiple times he should've stayed dead.

Hell in the current run, Batman 137 Bruce says to Jason, while attacking him and all of his children.

"If you think one death is fine if it stops more death. Then shouldn't I kill you?!"

It's one thing to say this is completely out of character for him to do.

Because it is and I very much agree with you there.

This is the same Bruce who was on a war path to kill the Joker but because at the time he had immunity.

From being the UN govenor of Iran... I... Don't ask.

The UN had to send Superman to talk Bruce down lest a war broke out.

And even than Bruce crashed the hellicopter the Joker was on hoping it would kill him.

That Bruce would never have done that to Jason, especially knowing how lethal if could have been.

This is the Bruce who when KGBeast shot Dick Grayson in the head.

And we got... Ric...

Bruce tracked down KGBeast, beat him the fuck out of him.

Broke his neck just enough to paralyse him.

And left him in the middle of nowhere.

In the snow.

And when KGBeast is like hey if you help me.. I'll tell you who hired me to kill your boy.

Bruce says "I've got a bullet in my arm and a body of hurt. There's a 3000 click walk ahead of me. Through nothing but snow and ice."

Dramatically spits blood on the white snow.

"I'm the World's Greatest Detective. I'll find out who hired you and I will break them too. You can get your own damn help."

Also not the first time Bruce has tried to "not kill" KGBeast.

But that's beside the point.

He did that for Dick who while turned into the worst thing imaginable, was alive.

And you're telling me he wouldn't do the same for Jason?

Bullshit.

Man I miss when the thing was don't fuck with Batman's kids cos he'll fuck you up.

Instead of oh dear god Bruce stop hurting your damn kids.

If your version of Batman doesn't love his kids. Wouldn't do anything and everything for them.

Than he's not Batman.

#Tw ric grayson #bruce wayne #Batman #DC #jason todd #red hood #kgbeast #under the red hood #Batman 137 #the joker #dick grayson #nightwing #tw injury #Tw neck injuries

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redrapscalian · 10 months

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Dealing with Child Civilians in the Field

Dick: Amazing with kids, carries candy on his person to give out, the best at comforting and does cool gymnastics tricks to entertain them. The "throws the toddler up in the air and catches them" guy.

Jason: Has a 50/50 shot of either being great with children or terrible with them. Gives awkward but good bear hugs, not opposed to piggyback rides, has and will carry three kids in both arms at the same time, lets them climb him like a jungle gym while he's talking to the police/league members/batman. On the other hand, he's giant and scary, talks like he's constantly pissed, and makes no effort to change his personality when talking to kids, so he tends to scare them. Once a child punched him in the nuts after he saved them and ran away screaming.

Tim: "There there..?" *awkward head pat*. Has no idea how to be comforting so he just lets the kid figure themselves out while he supervises. He'll let them hang onto his cape/suit or play with some of the tools from his utility belt (Dick had to scold him for letting a toddler play with a baterang), but that's about as far as his skill goes. Gives good high-fives.

Steph: Hugs and cuddles and everything the kid needs to feel better, will sing songs and lullabies, and babies/young toddlers fall asleep in her arms very easily. Fluent in baby talk, has a few small squishy toys in her utility belt.

Damien: Really wants to be good with kids, he sees it as being a necessary skill of being a Robin that he must be superior at, but he just isn't. He's too cold and can't really relate to them, but he tries. Has stayed up googling how to comfort children, tries mimicking Dick, and has preprepared robotic and generic lines that he can say, but if those don't work he's kind of lost. He did become best friends with a 4 year old girl once while they were waiting to be extracted from a collapsed building, but that's about it. God forbid he saves anyone remotely close to his own age, he'll just tell them to get over it because obviously he can handle it, so they can too.

Bruce: *slowly holds up Robin uniform*

#dick grayson #batfam #batfamily #damien wayne #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #bruce wayne

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 1 month

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whilst on the topic of titans!dick grayson, being the most overdramatic man in existence. I made this post like a few weeks ago because lbr here, no one would be surprised if dick fucking ripped off his shirt for NO REASON, it would be fitting for him in titansverse (also adding to the already handful amount of shirtless scenes hes had in the show), yet it would be one of the less tamed dramatic shenanigans he's done compared to the ones he's done in the show. like:

a. burning the robin suit as symbolism for letting it go (he was called a drama queen, in canon, for doing that)

b. every time he went off on his own and GOT SHOT. and then just got up and went back to doing what he was doing before like it's nbd

c. the number of times he's almost killed people by beating them to a pulp (especially season 1 dick when was having an identity crisis), literally kory had to stop him one time

d. like you mentioned, him getting put in prison as a timeout for what happened with jericho

e. casually mentions that him and kory should get right on with making kids like it was just a regular and normal question........ like, slow the fuck down. ik yall have been through it but just relax for a bit, please

there's a lot more but yk, that's the gist of it

he ISSSSSS such a drama queen

also I don't think he would rip off his shirt for 'no' reason - but he would rip off his shirt for the tiniest little reasons. like if he got a tiny little coffee spill on his shirt, just RIP THE WHOLE THING OFF. or if someone else got a small cut on their arm, he RIPS OFF HIS WHOLE SHIRT in order to use it as a bandage for their wound. I wanted to see more of that from him

but he is such a fucking drama queen omg. like - when the suit maker torched that fruit cake to show how insulted he was about Dick lighting the suit on fire, that was right on par with Dick's energy

a few more of his drama queen antics:

making Jason's suicide attempt all about him (which actually pissed me off, but it is so in character for him)

drinking a glass of champagne and then throwing the champagne glass behind his head to smash on the floor like it's disposable ????

which he did that ^^ right before FIRING A LIVE GUN into a bathtub next to a man's naked body as an intimidation tactic

as a 15 year old kid - doing complex parkour out a window and onto a tree in order to 'run away' from Wayne Manor when he could have just calmly walked out one of the 20 doors without Bruce ever noticing

AND also as a 15 year old kid, stealing an expensive ass car and joyriding with it at like 100mph and getting arrested and then later claiming that he was doing this because he was out looking for the people who killed his parents ???

carving 'JERICHO IS ALIVE' into his prison cell wall in crazy people chicken scratch instead of just PICKING UP THE PHONE AND CALLING SOMEONE TO TELL THEM

going on a crime spree stealing million dollar artefacts with Barbara as his late 'teenage' rebellion against Bruce

among many, many other things

#Jai <3 #my lovely moots #interactions #sundrop answers #dick grayson #titans #dc titans

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 years

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More Batmom x Bruce pls I'm begging

Dick took one of the peach rings Jason offered him and folded his arms, "Do we have a book open?"

"Odds favor mom but the Demon Brat is taking the long odds on Bruce," Jason snorted, watching you wrap your hands.

"Anyone know if B did anything to piss her off the last couple days?" Dick mused. "She's slowed down a little since one of Penguin's goons hit her with a van."

Damian scoffed, "As if that makes any-"

"Oh Dami," Dick snorted. "If you'd ever seen them in the early days. Clark wanted to call her Honey Badger. B would piss her off and she was just unstoppable. It was in-freaking-sane."

"Hate to say it," Steph said, "You know. Love a girl boss and all that but I think Bruce might have this one."

Cass made a soft sound of agreement and Jason shook his head. "Traitors."

"Dunno Jay," Steph mused, "Speed can only-"

But the sound of Tim ringing the bell cut her off and quicker than a snake, a foot shot out and swept Bruce onto the mat handily, sending him off balance and into the mats.

"Get his ass!" Jason yelled.

"Damnit," Steph huffed, "Is it too late to-"

"The book closes when the bell rings," Alfred snorted. "And Master Bruce did indeed put his foot in his mouth earlier."

"They were alone for 10 minutes," Cass mused, "How-"

"A special talent," Alfred snorted.

"The one thing B does better than anyone else," Dick chuckled.

"What'd he do this time?" Jason asked, "Another random affair baby show up?"

"I do not think," Alfred drawled, "That if that were the case, Master Bruce would still have intact knee caps."

"As if she could-" Damian started, But as he watched his father fall for an obvious trap, too distracted by trying to dodge a blow to the head, it was all he could do to keep from smacking his forehead.

"Does he ever win?" Cass asked grinning.

"Not when she's angry at him, Miss Cassandra."

#Bruce Wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne #batmom!reader #anon ask #ask answered #minors dni

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zeroducks-2 · 1 year

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I keep encountering antis in the wild so far my favorite one has been the one who was frothing over Jaytim shippers. "Just because they're not technically brothers"!

Friend they're not technically nor non-technically brothers. They weren't raised together. They don't have a brother dynamic.

"It's different from DickBabs and TimSteph!" Not really! You're just cherrypicking!

90% of antis use anti rhetoric to justify why their ship is better/more valid than another, not because they really care about things they deem immoral or whatever, and I think a lot of Fandom Discourse tends to miss that by a long shot.

Like more often than not it's just bitches digging for reasons why their OTP is the only ship that can be shipped, therefore if you ship something else You're Wrong and the ship you ship shouldn't even exist. They use arguments on morality and such because they're hard to argue with - lots of folks don't know what to say when they're faced with "don't ship X and Y cause it's harmful and abusive!", "you're hurting victims of SA and grooming by shipping X and Y!" - and what happens is that they get scared out of the ships/topics they like and stop engaging actively with fanworks. Sometimes they rationally or subconsciously realize that it works, so they end up even adopting the same rhetoric as it's really fucking convenient: being on the moral high horse is delicious because people feel like it automatically puts them in the category of the good guys, therefore everyone else is a bad guy and they can harass them and send them death threats, even if it's just about shipping fictional characters.

I've seen this happen in basically every single fandom I've been in since I was 12 (and I am Not Young™), and I've seen the most unexpected people use anti rhetoric while not being antis themselves, or even labeling themselves as proshippers, but they would still use anti arguments to "legitimize" their ship and claim how and why it was better than others in the same fandom. Instead of just... saying that one ship in particular is not for them. Tbh lately I'm only trusting multi-shippers not to pull anti bullshit out of their ass, and this niche of the DC fandom is really a safe haven. But I digress.

One of the things that really pisses me off the most is the rampant homophobia. Going by generic anti logic Jaydick is incest, but Dickbabs isn't. Jaytim is incest, Timsteph isn't. Brudick, Brujay, Brutim are all incestuous ships - except Bruce and Barbara isn't. The het ship is fine would you look at that. Childhood friends to lovers is alright with pop culture as long as it's a man and a woman, because if it's two men they'll immediately scream incest and abuse (lumping them together too, while they're also not the same thing ffs). Because hiding behind anti mentality and purity culture there's the big bad monster of queerphobia, which shows its ugly face the moment you take a peek below the surface.

And since I feel like this isn't being said enough. Dick and Jason ARE NOT BROTHERS. Neither are Dick and Tim, or Dick and Damian, Jason and Damian, Jason and Tim, I could go on. These people are not related, not by blood or legally, not in any way that matters and would make it incest. They're a legacy of characters who wear the same cowl for narrative reasons, and THAT'S IT.

Calling Jaydick "incest" irks me to no freaking end because I LOVE incest ships, I am DOWN BAD for them, and this one ain't it chief. They're not related. They didn't grow up together. They don't share any brotherly bond except a vague "brothers in arms" kinda thing. People decided this at some point in order to have an argument why their plastic prepackaged het ships were better than the Bad Abusive (gay) ones, because they're fucking homophobes, and that is about it.

And that's what I really want to say to all the young, queer antis that parrot the terfs and homophobes that pushed them in that direction. They are taking away a space that is YOURS TOO. They fucking HATE YOU. They hate you because you're queer, gay, bi, pan, ace, trans, nonbinary, a woman, even just a teen. Purity culture and anti mentality is how they keep you under control, tied to their morality leash and making life miserable to every other queer person that refuses to conform and refuses to shut up and to stop enjoying fiction for the harmless, but also valuable thing that it is.

#sorry anon I went on a rant #but thank you for the ask I needed to get this off my chest #my asks #fandom discourse

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nonagesimus · 1 year

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Birthday Prompt 2 - Jason giving Dick a pep talk

Prompted by @dickgraysonwayne

Jason was all for the idea of taking space.

In a family chock full of busybodies with no social skills it was practically a survival strategy. Especially given he was liable to dip at the drop of a hat and spend months out of Gotham with no word, he really wasn’t going to judge anyone for being a tad MIA.

Except.

There were limits, y’know?

Dick needing a break after playing Bat for a week? Understandable. Dick fully dropping off the face of the earth and not answering texts after? Less understandable.

Maybe “dropping off the face the earth” was a little overdramatic. Dick was in Blüdhaven and they knew he was in Blüdhaven. It wasn’t unusual for him to ask to be put on emergency alerts only when he’d spent time away from the city. He just usually stayed just as active vis-á-vis group chats, social calls, and that kind of a thing. Not dead silent while Damian swung around Gotham like the world’s tiniest storm cloud. And as far as Damian went, the mood had to be bad to register above baseline.

So, Jason took a trip north.

Blüdhaven was as grey and greasy as ever. It didn't take long to find a spot Jason knew was on Nightwing's regular patrol route and post up. From then it was just patience.

"Hood." Dick hadn't made a sound on the approach. If Jason hadn't caught the barest glimpse of electric blue on an adjacent rooftop, he wouldn't have seen him coming at all. "Did you need something?"

"I can't drop in to say hi?" Jason asked, archly.

"Did you?"

"Immediately calling the bluff," he drawled. "Wow, you really are in a bad mood."

Dick folded his arms, staring with a flat look on his face. Jason turned to mirror him. The helmet gave him the advantage when it came to a blank facade. The only trial would be waiting his brother out. He sank his weight into his heels, watched the shift of Dick's jaw as he clearly made the same considerations.

In Jason's defence, Dick had a lot more practice, so it wasn't a big surprise who won.

"What's going on?" he said, baldly. "Because you left Gotham like you were on fire, and the brat has been acting like someone shaved his cat ever since. Spill."

"Shaved his cat?" Dick asked, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"I don't know, it sounded like the kind of thing that would piss him off," he said. "That's not an answer."

"Why did something have to happen?" Dick shot back.

"You should know from being on the other side of it that strategy doesn't work," Jason said. "You want me to go ask Damian?"

"No," Dick said. Without elaborating.

Jason pulled his helmet off so he could better fix him with an unimpressed look.

"It's not a big deal," he amended. "I'll—I'll talk to Damian, it's fine."

"That's still not answering my question, Big Bird," Jason said. "Come on, now."

"Yeah." Dick's shoulders dropped. He took a few steps to the edge of the roof and then sat down, dangling his feet over the edge. “We had a bit of a fight the last night before B was due back, that's all."

"'Bit of a fight' is a regular conversation with that kid," Jason said.

"It was—" Dick shook his head. "Stupid. It was so stupid. We were chasing down Two Face, and he went charging in without waiting for me, and he didn't even get tagged, but I saw a bullet miss his head by like two inches and I just—"

"Freaked?" Jason said.

"Yeah." Dick shook his head. "Understatement. I did the full threaten to take him off patrol, and then he got furious, and he wouldn't talk to me before Bruce got back and I had to come home for work, and I spent the whole ride home thinking about how bad I fucked that up, and I didn't even get to apologise. So I fucked up as a brother to you, and I fucked up as a brother to Tim, and now I'm fucking up with Damian, it feels like I'm turning into Bruce—"

"Bullshit." Jason broke in before the tirade could get any more speed. Stomped over and sat down next to him, grumbling, “I can’t believe you’re gonna make me say nice things about you.”

Dick broke off, staring at Jason with eyes that were wide even through the domino lenses.

"I don't know where you got the impression that you weren't allowed to make any mistakes ever," Jason continued, looking out into the city. “And I don't know what happened between you and Tim, it's not like I was around, but when you say you fucked up with me, what are you talking about?"

Dick looked at him like it should have been obvious.

Which, Jason knew he'd talked a lot of shit over the years, but still.

"Lay it out for me," he said. At the very least it'd be a distraction from whatever Dick had said to Damian.

"I was never there for you," Dick said. "And I was an asshole about you being Robin, and I was mad at Bruce and I took it out on you—"

"You are so full of shit," Jason said.

Dick's jaw snapped shut in surprise.

"You weren't around much because you lived in a different city," he pointed out. "You were mad at me about Robin for a total of like five minutes, and yeah, you were mad at Bruce, but you used to come and hang out with me anyway, I—" He stopped to let out a long breath. "I know when I first got back, I was a real asshole about it, but I was being an asshole about everything back then."

"That doesn't mean you weren't telling the truth," Dick said, softly. He looked a little overwhelmed, when Jason managed a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Ok, so I'm telling you now, I was just being a shithead," Jason said. "And if you overreacted with Damian, you already know it and want to apologise, so you're definitely not turning into Bruce." He had to force the words out, uncomfortable with how genuine they felt. "You're a good brother, Dick."

The overwhelmed look on Dick’s face broke into a wobbly smile. “Ok.”

Then Jason got about three seconds warning as the smile firmed up before Dick fully flopped over into him, draping over his shoulders, and pinching his cheek.

“What a good speech. Who knew you had that in you, Little Wing, I’m so proud.”

“Oh my god, get off,” Jason said, shoving ineffectually at Dick’s ribs. “If I’m not allowed to hide from vulnerability by being grumpy, you’re not allowed to do it with this.”

“I let you be grumpy instead of vulnerable all the time,” Dick said, but he did stop tugging at Jason’s cheek and settled into a regular hug. “I am proud of you, though.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jason said. He stopped trying to shove Dick off, though.

“Yeah, ok.”

#dc fic #batfam fic #jason todd #dick grayson #my fic #birthday prompts

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definitelynotaminion · 2 years

Note

Hey I’d love to commission you for a 6$ (5$ + 1$ for mental health cleaning bonus option) fic. DC universe, Tim and Jason (no slash, platonic) focus where they’re sitting on a rooftop joking around until Tim makes a flippant joke about his life Jason almost killing him at titans tower and Jason taking a breath and telling Tim that he’s important and he’s glad he’s alive.

Also posted here, on ao3, under the title "Optimally Sentimental"! This was such a delight to work on, thank you for commissioning me and for being flexible!

It’s been months since Tim flinched around him.

Jason hasn’t been consciously keeping track, because literally counting physical ticks and bits of Robinly body language is a fast track to Bruce levels of paranoid insanity, but-- yeah. It’s been a good few months since Tim flinched around him, or tensed up when he entered a room, or subconsciously moved to place his back to a wall when Jason walked into a conversation.

It’s also been a few weeks since Jason stopped going out of his way to walk louder, announce his presence by shouting at one brother or another, or otherwise be as obvious as he could. He doesn’t want Tim to be scared around him, yeah, but while Tim was, he was going to be as least of a dick about it as possible.

But it’s been a while, and Jason is proud to report they’ve both let their guard down. This past little bit has been the best it ever has been between them.

They’re even taking missions together. Of their own free will, not because Bruce told them to. And enjoying it.

Tim’s got that faint little flush to his cheeks that he gets when he’s been smiling too much, and he’s squinting his eyes the way he does when he laughs for real (and not the fake little Timothy Jackson heir laugh he perfected at so many galas), and he’s been snipping and sniping prissy little one shots Jason’s way without apologizing.

Peak Tim, in his natural element; a baby bird unafraid of getting shot down.

So when he does tense up, midway between a snark off on which soda brand is better-- “Zesti is the premier shit drink of choice, Jason, even Dick agrees,” which, whatever, if you’re basing an argument over Dick’s questionable tastes, you’ve already lost, and Soder Cola is the most American drink ever made, even Jason can admit that and he’s technically a terrorist-- Jason feels his entire chest go cold.

He thought they were past this.

“I can go.” He says, through suddenly numb lips. It’s cold but not that could, a cool sixty which is practically paradise for Gotham this time of year. It’s not even pissing down rain, though the sky is a gray brick of overcast.

The words float out between them, catching on the mist. The rooftop is damp from an earlier shower.

Tim’s not even looking at him. He’s fiddling around with his scope, hissing under his breath. Jason tries to figure out what he did-- a sweeping arm movement, a too sharp movement? He really hasn’t been watching himself around Tim like he should have been.

You don’t just forget that kind of trauma. God knows Jason hadn’t, when someone had beat the shit out of him in the dark, and he hadn’t even been shot or, fuck, had his throat slit by someone who was supposed to be a friend.

Jason starts to stand.

“What?” Tim looks up, a picture of confusion. “No, what are you being stupid about? The screw fell out of my new lens.” He curses under his breath, glove groping around the rubble of the rooftop. “I cannot believe I didn’t put it back together tightly enough last night.”

Jason’s mouth moves on instinct, the Robinly urge to rib his brother carrying through even when his thoughts are so tangled and confused.

“Did you rebuild that thing again?” He asks. “Damn, give it a few days to see how it functions, would you?”

“If I notice a problem, I’m not going to just wait and fill out a changelog of bugs, Jay.” Tim says absently, waving a hand without looking. His entire back is to Jason now. Jason, slowly and by degrees, relaxes. “Besides, it was an easy enough adjustment.”

Jay, not Jason. Rare enough that one of his brothers indulges in his preferred nickname. Jason himself hardly ever points out that he prefers it, so it’s not like he can blame them.

(Also in fairness, he’d once shot Bruce in the kneecap for pulling out ‘Jaylad’ in the middle of his Pit-induced madness.)

Jason gradually lowers himself back into his sitting position against the roof’s lip. They’re as comfortable as they can be on this kind of stakeout, the orange haze of poisoned daylight on the horizon indistinguishable from sunset. Soon, the ‘working day’ will be through, and they’ll be able to see what the Sionis family is actually doing. They’re supposed to be quiet and cowed with Black Mask back in Arkham, but you wouldn’t know it from the shipping activity on their side of the docks.

“Yeah, I can tell.” Jason scoffs. “You have a back-up kit?”

They all tended to carry replacement parts for their more fiddly gear. Tim, being the most Oracleish of their cohort-- and also the most tech-savvy-- had an entire soldering kit on him or Jason would eat his boot.

“Yes, of course.” Tim says, waspish. “But I don’t need it. I can find this screw.”

“This specific tiny screw.” Jason parrots, amused.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Yeah, okay.

Jason feels the tension fall completely out of his shoulders. Babyest bird is not feeling unsafe, right now; Tim doesn’t get this bitchy around people unless he trusts them.

Random civilians and corporate fuckwits, they get soft-spoken, laughing Timothy Drake. Anyone Tim’s not quite comfortable with-- people he has to impress, like the Justice League-- get the world’s most perfect and efficient Robin. Seriously, it’s terrifying. He wears his competency like a sword and doesn’t bother with a shield.

So, a snarky Tim-- a Tim who lashes out, without regard for if he’ll be hit back-- is a trusting Tim. A comfortable Tim.

“I’m just sayin.” Jason lets a grin surface on his face, in his voice. He wiggles his fingers. Then, actually being helpful: “Hey, maybe try a light?”

“Ugh. Good idea.” Tim flicks on a pen light with careless efficiency, apparently from part of his glove. What the hell.

The light catches on the moist pebbles and occasional shallow puddle, but it does its job; the glint from the tiny screw is enough to find it, and Tim swoops it up with a triumphant sound.

“Ridiculous.” Jason snorts.

Tim pulls a face.

“I don’t want to hear it from you, Mr. My Peripheral Vision Doesn’t Matter as Much As My Aesthetics. At least I can see.”

“The hood had an HUD!” Jason protests, knee-jerk. “I don’t even wear it that much anymore.”

He gestures to his own domino, as bright a red as the bat on his chest.

“Mm, yeah, you definitely didn’t keep wearing it to be petty for, oh, six months.” A snarky little grin, edging into smirk territory.

Jason looks forward to a year from now, where he can not only move openly around Tim, but also smack him playfully. They aren’t there yet-- not like how he can slug Dick in the shoulder as hard as he wants-- but Jason can see it on the horizon.

Instead, he snorts.

“Oh, I know you’re not calling me petty.” He points out, amused.

Tim’s face stops briefly on suspicion before going directly to offended.

“I’m not petty!” He denies. “I’ve never done anything petty in my entire life, ever.”

“That’s a lie,” Jason laughs. “I saw you put decaf coffee into Dick’s stash.”

“That’s for his health.” Tim claims, boldly. “I’m doing him a favor.”

“Yeah, and the fact that you ferried the actual caffeinated coffee you stole into your stash has nothing to do with it.”

“I’m not going to waste it, Jason!” Tim puts a hand to his chest in mock-offense. “If I replace it wholescale, he’d notice, so I switch out a cup at a time.”

“Right.” Jason grins. “And the little fucker who’s stolen all the “R” shaped keys off every keyboard I’ve bought for my safehouses?”

Tim flushed bright red.

“You can��t prove that was me.” He says, immediately, which in their line of work is basically a confession. Also; he knows better than to challenge another detective like that!

Jason starts counting on his fingers.

“Well, it wasn’t me. That’s one Robin out.” And he ignores the pang that claiming that name will always bring him.

“Damian could have done it. He’s a bitch like that.”

Jason tips his head back and laughed.

“You’re more of a bitch. You’ve made bitchiness into an art form.” And he threw Damian under the bus without hesitation, goddamn.

“Dick was a Robin. Just saying.” Tim points out. Yeah, like saying water is fucking wet. Dick wasn’t a Robin, he was the Robin. He was Robin, full stop.

Jason just stares.

“Dick is the only one of us who never stole Robin.” He points out. “And in fact stealing the suit seems to be a right of passage, at this point.”

It doesn’t occur to him that he’s wandering into the biggest trigger between them-- what had been Jason’s biggest trigger, as the furious Red Hood-- until he’s already said it. Fortunately, Tim goes in another direction-- passing the buck down the line, as it were.

“Damian didn’t steal shit.” He huffs, still sour. “Dick gave him that suit right from under me. At least I had to break in and take it.”

He looks up then, apparently sensing the same thing Jason had.

“Oh, uh. I’d say sorry about that, by the way, but you... weren’t using it at the time.” Tim’s face twisted. “Oh, god. No, not that. I’m going to stick with the actual answer that Bruce was going off the fucking deep end at the time and Dick wouldn’t do it.”

Jason just stares.

Tim groans and covers his face with his hands. Jason starts laughing.

“Shut up.” Tim says, but it sounds more like a complaint. Jason laughs harder.

“I can’t hear you, I’m putting the screw back in.” Tim very loudly-- with exaggerating arm gestures-- begins fixing his scope, pointed out the warehouse across from them.

“That doesn’t occupy your ears, Baby Bird.”

“I can’t hear you!” Tim repeats, louder. “I can’t multitask, everyone knows that. Hang on, I’m almost done.”

By the time he sits back, triumphant with his success now that Jason is no longer laughing at his expense, the foot traffic has mostly died down. He points the newly-repaired lens to the beginning of the street.

“I think we’ve got enough for facial recognition.” Tim murmurs, mind back on the business, watching their marks walk up the long, long road in front of the warehouse.

Smile, assholes, you’re on camera.

“Never a good thing when they have this many new contacts.” Jason agrees, eyes tracking the unfamiliar faces who have no business in this part of town.

He brings his own piece up-- yes, designed after the Hood’s perfectly respectable HUD, alright-- to track even more information. Vitals, infrared, even what kind of heat they’re packing.

“Here, look at this.” He offers the binoculars to Tim, who reaches out automatically. Just before they settle in his palm, Jason thinks better of it. He dangles them a foot above Tim’s reach-- not hard, since Tim is almost all the way on the ground looking through his scope, and pretty short anyway.

“Jason.” He complains, not looking away from his lens.

“Since, you know, I’m not using them.”

Tim blanches. Then flushes, hard. He brings a gauntlet up to cover his face again. Low, muffled, his voice sounds out:

“I’m never going to live this down. You should have killed me at Titan Tower.”

It’s like cold water over Jason’s entire body. The arm holding the binoculars falls limp at his side.

“Fuck that.” Jason snarls, and he shouldn’t-- he can’t-- be this angry around Tim, but the smaller Robin doesn’t flinch or even rear back. He just blinks in surprise. Fuck.

“Jason.” Tim says, humor falling all the way away, but Jason-- can’t. He takes a deep breath and turns away.

“Don’t say that kind of shit.” He finally manages, wrestling with the full body horror and memory of Tim’s bones breaking, the glee he felt. Sick, vicious glee.

“Jason. I know that.” Stilted, but not afraid. This, too, is an honest Tim-- the Tim that doesn’t have the right words to say, but doesn’t pause to find perfect ones, afraid of messing up. A trusting Tim.

Jason takes another deep breath and lets him finish.

“I know you weren’t in your right mind. I don’t... hold it against you. Anymore.” Tim manages. And, fuck, is babyest bird seriously trying to fucking apologize? To Jason?

“Are you really trying to apologize for me almost beating you to death?” He asks, flatly. “Just checking. Because that’s insane, Tim.”

Tim bites his lip. Ah, not good. Almost a flinch, but a social one.

“I’m apologizing for bringing it up.” His hands absently hits record on the scope, giving more attention to Jason. “I know you’re... Damn, Jay, I know it fucks with you, alright? Having to remember it.”

“You have to remember it!” Jason says, throwing up both hands-- which, fuck. But Tim doesn’t react, doesn’t so much as lean away from the wild limbs.

“I’ve had worse.” Tim points out, almost-- fuck, distracted, almost as an aside, as a faint beep comes from the scope and he looks down at it. “Honestly...it was a long time ago, Jay. We’re good.”

“We’re good.” Jason repeats in disbelief, remembering the sharp crack of bone. His voice is hoarse.

The worst part is, he wants it to be true. He wants them to be good, wants that easy camaraderie years into the future. Wants to have so many good times between them that they can barely remember the bad.

Then he twinges onto the other half of that sentiment, and wants to shake Tim.

“Wait, you’ve had worse? From me?”

He knew that to be true, of course. Even in the depths of his rage, finding out the little Robin whose throat he casually slit hadn’t been wearing a gorget--because he was allergic to the material and Bruce hadn’t yet synthesized a replacement-- had almost made him physically ill. He’d still been deluding himself, at the time, that he was perfectly in control. That he had chosen every act of violence, that he was being purposeful.

That fuck-up had been one of his first wake up calls that he really, really wasn’t. Even if it was a ‘reasonable’ assumption, he still should have fucking checked. Detectives do their homework, and so what if Dick had worn a gorget, for most of his time out, and so had Jason.

He knew the Robin suit was deceptively well-armored; it only looked like you were defenseless. Shit, even the bare legs were a taunt and a trap; Bruce damn well taught them to defend hits there, and any that got through were still safer than cuts or shots to the torso or head.

So he’d nearly killed Tim with what should have been, if not a love tap, then a mere threat to Bruce and not a serious attempt on Tim’s life. He’d excused the purposeful attempts, of course. At the time, it was only the accidents that bothered Jason-- the perceived lack of control.

He’d shot Tim. He’d snuck into a place where he was supposed to be safe, his home away from home-- and yes, Jason had been bitter at the time that Bruce never allowed him a team, fearful it would turn his second Robin’s head as it did the first’s-- and beat the shit out of him.

And yet something about the way Tim said that he’d had worse...

“From me, right? The other times?” Jason demands. “What do you mean, you’ve had worse?”

Tim makes a caught little sound in his throat, visibly unhappy. His eyes cut to the side.

“Do we have to do this?” He asks plaintively. “It’s not important.”

Not important.

For the first time since conquering the Pit madness, Jason’s vision hazes over a different color. Fear grips him by the throat, almost choking out the anger, but only for a second, because it’s not green that takes him.

He sees red.

Teeth grit, fists clenched so hard he fears he’ll drawl blood, Jason has to fucking count to calm himself down enough to speak. He will not shout at Tim. He will not swing at Tim.

He wants to throttle him, though. Urrgh.

“Jason?” Tim asks, quietly. Concerned. Not afraid. Not scared. Not timid. Leaning towards him, even. As though convinced he’s in no danger at all.

For the first time, Jason wonders if all their so-called progress is just Tim’s distinct lack of self preservation.

Maybe his little brother is too stupid to be afraid.

No, that’s not fair. Tim’s a genius.

He’s just also an idiot.

Jason, in a fit of masochism, had read the kid’s medical file. He’d needed to know every bit of damage he’d done that he could never undo. Since then, he’s familiarized the files of all birds and bird-related bats. Having a working knowledge of what everyone’s got going on-- like, say, allergies to gorget material or their blood types-- is mission goddamn essential in Gotham.

He’s never seen anything about the kid being hurt worse. Which means, of course, not only did the kid not think it was worth mentioning, he went out of his way to hide it. Jason thinks of Tim’s clipped little reports, the bare bones essentials accounting of his own fights with Ra’s Al Ghul, and comes to a conclusion he doesn’t think he likes.

“You--” Jason clears his throat, modulates his tone. He wants to grab Tim by the shoulders, but he can’t. He won’t. Instead he looks across the rooftop and to hell with whatever mission they’ve got going on.

“You listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once.” He manages to keep the growl out, but his voice is deep. Serious. It’s also a boldfaced goddamn lie; he’ll say this as many times as he needs to.

Tim leans in, eyes shocked wide and young beneath his domino. But not scared; still not scared. Good. Jason exhales slowly, maintains that eye contact.

“It was so, so fucked up-- all the things I did to you. I regret them. I’m sorry. But not because I was out of control, and mad with rage. That’s not the part that bothers me.”

Well, not the majority of it.

“Then... what?” Tim’s voice was small. Quiet. But curious and unafraid.

“You, Baby Bird. I could have killed you. I did, in fact, hurt you. That’s the horrible part. You could have died.”

“But, I’m just...” Tim snaps his mouth shut tightly, looking away. He looks haunted, like he’d said exactly what he didn’t mean to. And yep, that’s it for Jason, because fuck all of this.

He’s up and moving before he can even think not to walk like the juggernaut he is, but maybe it is soon enough, close enough to that future, because Tim just watches him with big blinking eyes, waiting to see what he’ll do.

He trusts Jason not to hurt him.

Fuck, but that’s good, so Jason doesn’t hesitate as he yanks his brother into a fierce hug. Better than wringing his scrawny neck, anyway, though it’s not off the table.

Jason wants to shake him.

“You’re not ‘just’ anything. You’re...” Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jason forces his voice out around a tight throat. “You’re my brother and I love you. Shit. Your life matters. You matter. I’m so fucking glad you’re alive.”

Tim starts shaking in his arms, but Jason just holds him tighter. It occurs to him that perhaps, somehow, with the shitty way he’s grown up-- shittier, in its own way, than Jason’s own miserable adolescence-- that maybe nobody’s told him this before.

That some of this cavalier disregard for his own importance in their lives-- right from the beginning, when he, an untrained little kid, put on the suit and risked his life because Bruce needed him-- came from having never been told.

Well, Jason would tell him. Jason would tell him a thousand fucking times, if he had to.

He’d show him, too.

It was lucky they were recording the stakeout, because Jason couldn’t be fucked to care about anything for the rest of the night. Oh, they stayed up on that rooftop-- they didn’t leave until dawn, in fact-- but they talked about things more important than the mobsters at the docks.

And two months later, when Jason Todd had been publicly, ‘miraculously returned from his own staged death that was actually a kidnapping’, when he found a copy of his death certificate marked RESCINDED, left out on the kitchen table,Jason knew exactly who to blame for what he saw.

He threw his head back and laughed.

JASON PETE TODD was spelled loudly and in bold on the documents, but it wasn’t a typo. Oh, no.

Tim had stolen the R from his middle name.

This fic has been converted for free using AOYeet!

#fukinweeeb #tim speaks #my stuff #comms #fic commission #robins #dc #tim drake #jason todd

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lazaruspiss · 1 year

Text

watching batman ninja and taking notes bc idk how to focus <3 spoilers under the cut

batman ninja is a wild movie already but harleys design fucks

smth smth. everyone got sent to generally the same time/location with variation, time can vary by years (selina was sent 2 years before bruce) but probably not decades and id assume location varies to anywhere within a certain range of whatever island in japan that this is on.

nightwing and red hood were teamed up separately from batman before the blast that sent everyone back by the look of it. cute.

i wanna see ivyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy- DEATHSTROKE IS HERE?

ohh ok. time difference was based off of proximity/order that they were sucked in, making batman the last to show. a few minutes become years, everyone else were def much closer in timing but even a few seconds mightve made weeks difference in how far back they were sent.

lords alluded to so far: joker, penguin, ivy, deathstroke, two-face

mz ivy im in love w u

"once my fortress is complete, itll be my time to strike. yeahhh" OLD MAN. BOOMER. he says yeah like an adult actor playing a teen in an anti-drug ad campaign.

the lord intros are so fun actually

i love selinas little puppet, not a fan of bruces general disposition.

ok bruce looks better with the beard. also alfred what the fuck. how. and lmao. alfred. "lets go on a japan trip we get back."

HARLEYYYYY SHES SO CUTE. is this tara. i think its tara. love her.

classic "stop me or save the civilian trick" smh

congrats to bane on bulking up i guess? anyways. wheres the others. im bored of batman. i do love the little chibi batman who forcibly ejects bruce, someone mustve added a fail safe specifically for bruce being dumb and self destructive.

the lip syncing is off, is this a dub?

DICKIE!! anime hair... and dick's anime bf/leader of the ninjas.

"how do we regain the advantage when we have nothing" bruce. bruce. the whole squad is here + a ninja army. girl.

DAMIAN? oh hes still cute.

monkee :) hes so silly

so tims swords are just for decoration then? weirdo. joker gets his ass beat, whatever. tim states the obvious. backstab fest. im bored again.

"joker!! you'll kill yourself!!" "that's the point, lmao"

35 min in, still no red hood. just establishing shots to explain that each lord has the special time sticks.

"i didnt know who i was after i lost my car" could you be anymore pathetic. he isnt even cute pathetic, hes just "id push him into a puddle" pathetic. stop brooding you boring bitch. oh thank god. he acknowledges that he has other people carrying his ass. red hood still hasn't shown up, not even for bruces go team speech.

ACK. THE CUT IN ART. SO PRETTY. ill probably make another post for screenshots.

red hood time. finally. jason the buddhist monk and his joker hunt sidequest. a part of jasons lashing out at harley is framed in a way that makes it look like a sexual assault imo, so it's giving some mixed emotions. like if this turns out to just be some regular farmers this would be a "stranger breaks in and gropes your wife while threatening you" kinda deal. i mean they went ass shot to jason grabbing her and holding her like. ack. like hes holding her like that so he can break her arm but u gotta trust me it looks Bad. not to just narrate the entire scene but its a lot. jason's pissed and scary, the art is very pretty, im sacred and a little. you know. youve seen me post you know how i am.

this movie kinda. i personally think it wouldve looked better in 2d.

"if you knew him like i did" bruce... also mr j and harley are fully amnesiac so jason the effectively traumatize 2 strangers for no reason. jokerquinn gets a happy ending by becoming farmers. "we'll take them back with us-" NO??? THIS IS LITERALLY THEIR HAPPY ENDING?? THIS IS THEIR BEST/ONLY SHOT AND TRUE REHABILITATION BRUCE. BRINGING THEM BACK WOULD BE PURE STUPIDITY AND/OR SELFISHNESS.

jason saying bruce but bruce saying red hood...

whoops. they still remember, so bruce is just a dumb hoe who thought he and joker had something special.

why are there penguins here. like actual penguins. and why does slade have a gf.

red hood has my fav voice acting of the boys tbh, the others sound a bit clunky. and is ivy also tara. she sounds a bit like tt03 raven.

mech battle. slade is still hot. even if he is a cringe old man. HARVEY BUDDHA BOT?

dami should get to keep his monkey friend. as a treat.

THIS ISNT SKYRIM I DONT THINK HORSES CAN RUN LIKE THAT

ok two face is funny. coin said i gotta beat ur ass now. literal "switching on a dime" behavior

hi welcome back to robot wars. fight scenes are really hit or miss for me, i love em or i fall asleep. smth smth. joker moment. clowns doing the heavy lifting. and where is harley getting her hair dye from, or is that a wig?

fun fact! red spider lilies (the flower growing from jokers gas bomb) symbolize death <3

aaaaand we're back to mech battles. voltron assemble or whatever.

dami almost gets squished trying to save monkey

bruce. bruce are you having an autism event or are you being rude on purpose. anyways give the dues ex macina to dami he deserves it more. baby boy can play the flute so good <3

"momi?" "whos she" a monkey friend tim. obviously.

THE MONKEYS ARE HELPING HIM PLAY IM GONNA LOSE IT. thats so unrealistic but its sooooooooo cute.

m. monkey.

damian is having the time of his life fr

damian is no longer having the time of his life

bats. bat monkey. b. batman? how.

fire no match for batman made of monkeys and bats. anime punch.

Nightwing Vs Penguin, Red Hood Vs Deathstroke, Red Robin Vs Two Face, Robin Vs Poison Ivy

damian that was not a joke. A for effort tho.

ok so the amnesia WAS real but smth smth plant magic.

joker that is not what a joke is. you're worse that damian.

4 barrels, who do you think you are deathstroke. the guy who killed the prime minister of japan? HARLEY? harley. this frame gets its own post she straight up licked her. and thats a lot of bare monkey ass. blah blah they blow up robot. "keep your tongue to yourself" blushing rn

batjokes sword fight, im bored again. joker has a boner. who give a shit. bruce bores me in that special way of his. i am once again reminded about why i can only ever pay attention to him when Dick is involved. if someone else doesnt show up soon my eyes are gonna roll back into my head. joker is not funny enough to make this interesting. hes kinda hot tho. is it just me or are the animators losing steam towards the end of this. im. im bored. oh i missed the fans, those were cool, its nice to see them one last time. blah blah kill joker- wait a minu- ok nvm. coward. batjokes should die together an share a grave. in main canon even.

gonna cry over monkichi brb. at least he has monmi. his sister? gf? both?

ok so by the credits i assume this movie was originally in japanese. anyways. after credits. bruce does wayne stuff, selina does catwoman things. pfft. old style batcart dents a strangers car.

harley and ivy were tara strong ofc, and apparently jason and dami shared a VA, i didnt even notice that. so did dick and alfred. and grodd and deathstroke. a lot of double casting.

#batman ninja reactions

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Hell In A Cell

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language and Violence

Author's Note: I can't believe I haven't put this one back up yet. Nothing's more fun than WWE references when you're kicking ass, ya feel? -Thorne

They could feel her eyes on them as they stared at their hands, too afraid to meet her gaze. Dick suddenly found the beds of his nails interesting, Jason and Tim kept looking at the steel seats they were sitting on, and Damian just turned towards the front. She sat opposite of them, on the bench against the other wall, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees. The last time any of them had looked, she had her fingers intertwined and pressed against her lips, her eyes cold and infuriated. After a few moments, Dick gathered the courage to look up from his nails and glanced at her.

He gave a fearful smile and asked, “Uh…sis? Are you still…mad?” Her eyes drifted to his and he visibly flinched from her gaze.

She tipped her mouth away from her fingers and seethed, “Mad is the smallest word for what I am right now.” The others flinched at her fury and looked up, taking in the image of their angered sister.

“It wasn’t that bad (Y/N). We’re just…detained…” Jason’s words died as (Y/N) turned her eyes to him.

“I told you four chuckleheads that the property we were on was protected, but nooooo, ‘we’ll just be in there for five minutes. No one is going to find out’.” She growled as she stood, flinging her arms out to gesture around them.

“Well guess what?! Someone found out! And now we’re stuck in a goddamn jail cell at GCPD, waiting for dad to come bail us out!” Each of their necks disappeared into their shoulders.

Tim spoke quietly. “At least none of us got hurt.”

“It doesn’t matter if none of us got hurt! This is going to be all over the news tomorrow! ‘Billionaire Bruce Wayne’s kids found trespassing on personal property’.” She looked at them as she snapped, “Do you have any idea what this is going to do to our reputations?!”

She turned to Tim. “What this can and will do to the company and future deals?!” (Y/N) sat back down and dropped her head into her hands. “We’ll be lucky to come out of this unscathed.” She groaned loudly and rubbed her face with her hands, sighing tiredly, “Dad’s going to be so pissed when he gets here.”

“Father will not be angry at us sister. He will understand what we were doing.”

(Y/N) let out another heavy sigh and from behind her hands, she muttered, “Oh, he’s going to be angry. He’s going to blow a gasket he’s going to be so angry. I highly doubt—”

A shout from the back of the room cut her off. “Will you five shut the hell up? God, you’ve been complaining ever since you got in here.” The comments made the four boys turn their heads to a group sitting in the back.

(Y/N) pulled her head up and turned, her voice dark as she retorted, “Buddy, I’m in a less than stellar mood right now and unless you don’t want me to show you what your insides look like—I’d advise you to shut the fuck up.”

Her threat made him stand up and he started walking towards her, his group of thugs following in tow. “What did you just say to me rich-bitch? Wanna repeat that?”

When he finally stopped walking, he was right in front of her, and she could see her brothers beginning to rise from their seats for a quick defense. She raised a few fingers in their direction, telling them to wait.

(Y/N) looked up at him as she rose from her seat, coming nose to nose with him. She pulled the most intimidating face she could muster and repeated, “I said, unless you want me to show you what your insides look like…shut the fuck up.”

The man turned to his friends and started laughing, causing them to follow in suit, then he turned back to her. “I don’t think you understand the position you’re in sweetheart.” He motioned to his friends. “We’re in Two-Face’s gang.” He motioned to a group in the corner. “And those clowns work for Joker.”

He turned back to her and reached out, shoving her shoulder. “You’re locked in here with us. Imagine what we’ll do to five rich kids that don’t have any bodyguards to protect ‘em.” The others laughed, and (Y/N) shot a quick glance to her brothers along with a nod before looking back at the man and letting out a dark chuckle. A feeling of apprehension came over them as they stopped laughing.

She flashed him an unsettling grin and leaned forward, whispering, “No pal, I don’t think you understand. We aren’t locked in here with you.” Her brothers rose, moving to her sides and she leaned back. “You’re locked in here with us.”

The man’s eyes widened, and she jerked forward to grab the back of his neck and slammed his head into the seat she’d previously been sitting on. He dropped and the cell went dead silent.

The gang members in the back had stood up, and (Y/N) looked at the ones in front of her. “Who’s next?” No one moved an inch, and she tipped her head side-to-side. “C’mon jackasses, we’re gonna be here all night. We might as well get this over with.”

The gang members looked at each other before nodding and they turned to her and her brothers. “You’re so going to regret that.”

(Y/N) tipped her head and gave a quick glance to her brothers, grinning evilly. “Whoever knocks out the most thugs gets to come with me to Tokyo next week.” They matched her grins and they got into fighting stances.

She turned back to the group and taunted, “Let’s dance.”

***

They all collapsed onto the metal benches, sweating and bleeding; (Y/N) glanced at Dick who was holding the collar of his shirt to his busted lip. “You good Dickie?”

He looked at her and tossed her a thumbs up, and she turned to Jason. “How’s the nose?” He grunted and held his nose before sucking in a breath and shoving it back into place with a sickening crunch. The others winced at the sound, and Jason let go of his nose, slamming his head back into the wall a few times.

“I’ll take it that you’re better now?” He raised a few fingers and she reached down, tearing a piece of one of the unconscious gang-member’s shirts and tossing it to Tim. “Put that on your eyebrow Timmy.” He caught it and raised it to his left eyebrow that had been spilt open.

He nodded at her and she finally looked at Damian who was continually spitting blood on the floor. “You alright Dami?”

He spat once more and looked at her. “I got a tooth knocked out.”

The others turned to him and leaned forward, trying to see. “Lemme see!”

He opened his mouth, pointing to a tooth in the bottom left of his mouth. “It was a baby tooth, so there’s no problem.”

Jason snorted, but immediately regretted it as he reached up to hold his nose; he turned to Damian. “You’re thirteen and you still have baby-teeth?” Damian’s retort was cut off by a tennis shoe whacking Jason in the head, and they turned to see (Y/N) reclining against the wall.

“Jason don’t be a douchebag.” He grumbled at her and rubbed the side of his head, but conceded, and silence filled the cell once again.

After a few moments, the sound of footsteps came from down the hall and they all turned their heads to see their father, Alfred, and Gordon staring at them in shock. They flashed sheepish smiles, and (Y/N) waved a hand. “Hey dad, hey Alfie…hey Commissioner Gordon.”

“What in God’s name happened here?!”

(Y/N) looked around at the ground littered with unconscious gangmembers and turned back, grinning. “Uh…they got their asses kicked six ways from Sunday.”

“Why?!”

“Well, first they insulted us, and secondly, they put their hands on us. So technically, we were well within our rights to whoop ass.”

Her father glared at her and rebuked angrily. “(Y/N) Wayne, not another word.” She gave him a mock salute and shut her mouth; Bruce turned to Gordon and began discussing something, and a few minutes later, her and her family were walking out to the waiting car.

They all climbed in and waited for Bruce to start yelling at them; no words came from him, but they could tell he was seething with rage. A few moments went by and they pulled into an abandoned parking lot.

Bruce turned around and let them all have it. “You’re all off patrol for two months. Reason number one, the trespassing. Reason number two, the Hell in a Cell you five had.” He paused and threw his hands in the air. “What the hell were you five thinking?”

They all looked at (Y/N) who rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Yeah sure, look at the oldest and expect her to explain.” They giggled at her and she turned to her dad. “First and foremost, I can’t believe you just used a WWE term. Secondly, they were thugs, and we were attacked. So, by default, we just responded naturally.”

“And breaking skulls and bones is natural?”

“Is that a legit question?”

“Don’t make me ground you, young lady.”

(Y/N) grunted at him. “I’m twenty-six. You can’t ground me. I don’t even live at home.”

The others watched them bicker until Bruce raised a hand. “Enough. We’ll discuss this at home.”

“Again, I don’t live with you. I live on my own.”

“(Y/N) Wayne.”

“Alright…whatever.” He turned back around and nodded to Alfred, and the car began moving once more.

After a few minutes of silence, Jason cleared his throat and nonchalantly mumbled, “Not that it’s super important right now…but I get to go to Tokyo with you next week.”

“The hell you do! I knocked out the most thugs!”

“No, you didn’t replacement. I did.”

“Neither of you Robin failures completed the challenge correctly. I won it.”

“Not to be rude little D, but you would be incorrect. I won the challenge.”

“Ain’t nobody asked you Dickhead.” This spurred an even bigger fight as the four of them began to bicker in the backseat, and (Y/N) groaned, leaning forward and rested her chin on Bruce’s shoulder.

His head tipped downwards, and he eyed her. “What’s wrong with you?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and mumbled, “I gotta them all to Tokyo next week because we aren’t going to be able to figure out who knocked out the most.”

Bruce sighed, but a small grin crossed his lips, and after a few seconds he murmured, “You won the most knocked out, didn’t you?”

“Oh totally.”

“That’s my badass daughter.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Master Bruce! Ms. (Y/N)! Your language!”

They both glanced at Alfred and said, “Sorry Alfred.” They looked back at each other before sharing a smile, then the sound of flying fists reached their ears and they both sighed. Then,

“OW THAT WAS MY NOSE!”

“AND THAT WAS MY LIP!”

“OW YOU LITTLE SPAWN! THAT’S MY ARM YOU’RE BITING!”

(Y/N) glanced over her shoulder and looked at her fighting brothers: Jason had Dick in a headlock while giving him a noogie, and Tim was trying to remove Damian’s teeth from his forearm. She turned back around and looked at Alfred and her dad.

“Do you guys wanna come with me instead of them?”

Bruce eyed her with an eyebrow raised. “Do you really think leaving the city to the four of them is a good idea?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment before muttering, “I mean it’s not a great idea, but it’s an idea nonetheless.”

“One that’s bound to end up in a city on fire.”

“…Yeah you got me there.” She paused a slight second before affirming, “But the offer still stands.”

“No (Y/N).”

“But I don’t want to take them with me.”

“Too bad.”

“Fuck my life.”

“MS. (Y/N)! LANGUAGE!”

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loving-all-for-loki · 3 years

Note

Can you write one where the Rogers is assigning a new recruit to each avenger for training? Loki gets the new girl and he’s irritated thinking she’s just some normal human that hasn’t a clue how to fight properly because of her petite size. When it comes time for them to spar, she gives him hell. She fights with swords and is very skilled in the art. He says something to piss her off and she ends up blasting him away with powers she never told anyone about. Loki realizes what she is since he knows the magic she used. She’s part light elf but being half human she was abandoned and left to die just like Loki was. They end up bonding and work together on the team.

A/N: I hope you like it! I didn't focus a whole ton of them working together, but I feel like you get the point. It's a bit longer than my other one shots.

The Moon And Her Darkness

Summary: Y/N, the newest avenger, starts her first day of training. An unimpressed Loki’s doubts are proved to be wrong when she reveals herself to be stronger than he knew.

Word count: 2744

Warnings: angst, dick Loki

Forever Tags: @mm2305

Your blood pumps fast through your body as you stare at the raven haired god. Ever since you joined the team, he’s been giving you dirty looks and eye rolls. You tried to not pay attention to it since you know of his past (and have been warned by Tony), but as the newest Avenger trying to prove herself, you find yourself longing for his approval.

It has been a week since Nicky Fury showed up at your home, extracting you from it, and throwing you into the lion's den you called the Avengers. You never signed up for it, but given that you were on the government’s radar for a long time, you’re not surprised. A couple mishaps here and there made them take you on their own terms. They’ve decided that having super powers is not something to be normalized and that you couldn’t live like a normal civilian.

Although you want to be home, the Avengers have already shown to be a great family. Nat and Wanda have already taken you shopping while Steve gave you a tour of the tower. As far as the others, they have been out of sight. Bucky avoids everyone, Sam with him because they’re glued to the hip, and Tony is somewhere else working on new technology with Bruce. Clint? Thor? Who even knows. You’ve been thankful for the attention they have given you.

Except for Loki.

You remember the attack in New York and you won’t lie when saying that approaching the god is intimidating. He stands with great pride and power, it’s hard not to feel small, but when he stares at you the way he does, it’s harder. He doesn’t stop looking at you as if you were a rat he found in a sandwich. Disposable. Replaceable. Disgusting. You don’t expect much from the God being that he’s only staying here out of punishment for the attacks, but you had hoped for a little something more. Even a prank or two.

When Steve told you that you were going to start training, you expected hand to hand combat like the rest, not whatever involves Loki being in the gym at the same time as the two of you. He hasn’t said a word, but just stared at you as Steve goes over some basic disabling techniques and defense. Most of it is already burned in your brain from your childhood, being a warrior and all, but you still manage to learn some new things.

But learning as to why Loki is there, that still remains unclear. Everytime you throw a punch or try to block one of Steve’s, Loki scoffs at you and rolls his eyes. He looks completely relaxed on a bench in the room, yet he could not be looking at you with a more tense gaze. He looks worried, as if you’re going to get beaten to a pulp.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” You yell at him.

Panting, you block Steve’s last hit and turn to the younger Odinson.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, don’t sorry me. Cut the crap, Loki. What’s up?”

“I believe the sky is.”

You grab a knife off the wall and aim it in his direction, startling him slightly but not even shocking Steve.

“You stare at me with daggers in your eyes and judge my every move. You have yet to even talk to me since I joined the team. What do you have against me, you ass?”

“Y/N-”

“Shut it, Steve!” You yell, quickly aiming the dagger at him before returning to Loki, “You. Talk.”

“It’s just pathetic, that’s all.”

“Pathetic? You’re calling me pathetic?”

You start to charge at Loki, but Steve quickly wraps his arm around your waist, holding you back from gutting the god.

“Y/N, I wanted you to spar with him after me,” he cuts in.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because he's a skilled fighter who matches your level.”

“Oh, so I spar with the tricker who decides I’m too pathetic to fight. He’s going to teleport or some shit and stab me like he does with Thor.” Loki’s eyebrows raise at the mention of Thor getting stabbed. “Yes, I’ve heard the stories. I’m not that naive, Steve.”

“I won’t leave you alone with him. I’ll be here to watch and guide.”

“What do you know about fighting with me? I have magic beyond belief” Loki asks the both of you.

“I know more than you think,” I spit, turning back to Steve, “Can we do something else?”

“Well, you coud-”

“I am not sparing with Loki.”

“Okay, then how about weapons? Whatever one you want to start with?”

Loki scoffs again at the mention of you fighting any other way than hand to hand combat. He’s lucky you’re on the same team as him or else you would have decapitated him by now just because of annoyance. How can a man so attractive be so obnoxious?

You walk over to the wall of weapons were Steve and quietly discuss which ones you’ll practice with. He recommends knives so you can spar with Natasha when he’s gone, but the swords are more up your alley. They remind you of your childhood, the weapon of your people. Some days, you miss them, but you know they are fighting their own battle that is too dangerous for you.

Picking up the swords, Steve warns you he is not good which makes Loki laugh again. He has the right to this time because how do you practice with a man who doesn’t know what he’s doing. You can’t last ten minutes with Cap before you’re tired of his flailing. He’s really not good.

“Loki, you wouldn’t happen to know how to use swords would you?”

“I have some experience. Asgard knights and Valkyrie used them, we were forced to learn.”

He stands and takes Steve’s sword from him. Turning to you, he smirks, taking you in. Your frame looks so small compared to his, nothing but a mortal. He’s never admit it, but he finds you slightly adorable, in a helpless baby sort of way. You take proper stance and stare at Loki dead in the eye, determined to prove him wrong.

The two of you run at each other, swinging at any unblocked area you can, yet never hitting. He blocks your swing, pushing you back but not down. Looking up at him, you scream and run, thrusting your sword towards his neck and legs. He blocks you again, but not without stumbling. Before he’s able to get up, you land a blow right to his chest, knocking the air out of him. He hooks his foot around your leg and flips the two of you over so he hovers above you, sword to throat.

“I’ll admit it, you are good, but not great,” he laughs.

He stands up and walks off, setting the swords back on their holder on the wall. You gradually stand up, fury in your bones for the way he speaks to you.

“You… are irritable!” You yell.

Right before Loki gets to the door, he turns to face you. Steve rushes to your side.

“Y/N, stop. He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, he’s not worth it, alright,” you mutter to Steve, “He’s not worth the pride. The praise. Whatever the ‘glorious purpose’ he thinks he has. He’s just an insecure little boy who needs to prove himself over others, make them feel small so he feels superior. Just a bully.”

“I’d watch your tongue,” Loki warns.

“Or else what? You’ll challenge me to a words competition? See who has the best insults or can sound like the biggest douche because I think we all know who would win! Another check mark for your book of things you’re better at than ‘midgardians’ or ‘mortals’ or whatever degrading nickname you think of next.”

Loki’s chest heaves in anger. You’ve never seen someone so angry or heard anyone yelling at you with concern like Steve. Nothing he says registers in your head as Loki’s daring looks fill your mind. You’d almost be scared if you didn’t know he’s full of empty threats. Just a scared little god boy.

“You imbecile, think you can scare me?”

“Actually, I think anything can.”

“I can take words from someone who does not know me, but to be called a coward is not something I take lightly.”

“So what are you going to do about it? Huh?”

“Nothing, I don’t waste my time on people like you.”

“Oh, people like me? Because the great Frost Giant Asgardian is sooo superior.”

“Don’t you ever say that.”

Loki rushes to your side, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you up against the wall.

“Loki, stop it!” Steve yells.

“This is not about you, Rodgers. I suggest you leave before getting in the crossfire.”

“I can’t do that. The safety of this team-”

“Is your priority. I know you are honorable, but I highly suggest you leave.”

Steve hesitates at the sound of you gasping for air. You cling onto Loki’s hand, tightly wound around your throat. His veins pop out of his hand like a dehydrated man. Steve looks back at you, eyes now closed to focus on your breathing.

“Put her down first,” Steve orders.

“Fine, always have to be the hero.”

Loki sets you down and your body goes numb. Everything hurts, your throat swelling. You gasp for all the air you can, feeling it go down your throat and enter your lungs. It’s fresh, comforting, healing. Leaning your head back against the wall, you barely open your eyes to see Steve by your side.

“Are you okay?”

Not energized enough to speak yet, you nod your head and place your hand on his shoulder. Steve looks over at you with worry before turning back to Loki.

“Leave, now.”

“Gladly.”

Loki turns to walk away, but doesn’t. He stands there to listen to you and Steve. At this point, neither of you care. You’re too focused on not dying.

“Can you breathe?” Steve asks.

You nod your head.

“I can get you help. We have a hospital room.”

“No,” you choke, “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”

Steve nods, but doesn’t listen. He gets up and leaves the room, rushing down the hallways to get a nurse, leaving you alone with Loki.

“Why haven’t you left?”

“No reason.”

“Please, just go. I’m tired of fighting. You’ve done enough.”

Loki turns to look at you. You look weak, but actually weak this time. The purple tint to your skin is fading as your lungs self regenerate as you keep breathing. Gripping onto the wall behind you, you stand up. Your knees are weak, making you wobble as you do. You’re not lying. You’re tired of Loki. You’ve barely spoken to the man and he’s made two attempts on your life in ten minutes. Sure, you teased him, but doesn’t he deserve it for being an ass.

“Weak.” He mutters.

That was the last straw. You look up at him. He stares at you as if the devil himself has entered you and your eyes glow bright red, but you know what is wrong. Holding out your hand towards Loki. A glow erupts from behind you, bright yet dark. It’s dark blue like the night sky and Loki watches it in awe. In seconds, Loki’s body is flung through the training room doors, blasting him into the wall of the hallways. He feels his rib breaking, his head hitting the wall. He yells out in pain as you slowly approach him, the anger seeping through.

“Never call me weak.”

Loki flips his head up to look at you, shock running through his body. At the sound of his body collapsing, the other Avengers come running forward. They look upon the sight of you towering over the trickster god with a look they’ve never seen before. Ethereal. Godly. You look as if you’re a queen staring at her peasant handmaid. Anger. Controlling. Power.

“What the-” Bucky mutters.

“You,” Loki gasps.

He struggles to stand as the team tries to help but he refuses. You two locked eyes but nothing was said. “You’re an elf.”

Everyone looks back at you with confused faces, but you don’t say anything. Your body goes hot at the mention of the word ‘elf’. The fire inside you fades out as anxiety places it, waiting for Loki to continue.

“I knew if someone was here to figure it out it’d be you,” you whisper.

“Light elf yes?”

“Yes, moon elf to be exact.”

“How are you here? Aren’t the-”

“Yes, they’re away. I was left to die. Our town got ransacked, everyone fled. No one stopped for me.”

“Then how are you here?”

“The Air elves. They got word of what happened and came. Found me. Took me back, but-”

“You weren’t suited. They found out.”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence between you and the god. His eyes shine with sadness, tears coming to the corners. He looks at you with great pity as the wall inside you breaks.

“Can someone explain what’s happening?” Steve asks.

“Can you tell?” You ask Loki.

He nods, “Yes. Y/N is a moon elf, a tribe of light elves. They’re as high up as Asgard in the nine realms, powerful warriors. They’ve been at the center of every creature out there. People have been after them for their weapons, gems, and wealth. A landmark for every thief and warrior in the universe.”

“My town was destroyed when I was a little girl. Nobody wanted me because I was a child. I was a burden to them.”

“She was left for dead to be found by the Air Elves. Another tribe. Not as powerful. But they didn’t want her and there’s only one reason why they wouldn’t want a moon elf. She’s a half-breed.”

“Moon elves are the only ones who tolerate them. Half human, half elf. Considering many of them come from moon elves, they’re not despised, but Air Elves.”

“They dropped you off on Midgard to be picked up by someone else. I assume you hid your powers?” “I had to. I acted out once when I was little and my parents freaked out. They sent me away. I lived in a orphanage before some group took me, trained me, helped me hone in my powers. They saved me.”

“Until you got to old and left.”

“Didn’t know where to go. I became a waitress at some back alley bar, lived above it in an apartment with my manager. Lived paycheck to paycheck.”

“Then?”

“Nicky Fury came to me. I was on SHIELD’s radar and they wanted me on the Avengers.”

The room goes silent. Throughout your talking you missed the way Loki got considerably closer to you. You practically stand right under his nose. Loki raises his hands and places them on your shoulders, getting your attention. You two look each other in the eye for a long moment.

“I am… so sorry.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes as Loki pulls you into his chest, holding you by your waist. The team watches in awe as the closed off god embraces you. Slowly, everyone leaves you two in the hallway. An hour goes by as you cry in Loki’s eyes.

Eventually, Loki picks you up bridal style and brings you to your bedroom. He helps you get dressed for the night and settled in bed before you grab his hand, making him turn back to face you. His eyes are no longer riddled with anger or hatred, but kindness and pity. He looks at you like you’re a little lamb to be protected.

“Yes, darling?”

“Stay with me?”

He nods before undressing and getting in bed with you. He pulls you close, your head leaning on his chest, and places an arm around your waist.

Every night goes on like this. No matter what happened in the day, even if you two got into an argument, Loki always found his way back by your side in your bed. You would have never expect it from how he treated you at first, but after the last few months since you met him, you find yourself growing closer to the god.

Loki slips into your bed for what feels like the 1482nd time. Resting your head on his chest, Loki pulls you close to his body.

“Goodnight, darling.”

#loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x reader one shot #loki one shot #loki laufeyson #loki layfeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #lovingallforloki #themoonandherdarkness

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themaribatpit · 3 years

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Fiasco At The Wayne Gala

Author’s note: This story was written by DC Fanboy and proofread by Maribat fangirl, as a reaction to Style Queen. Maribat fangirl has been hard at work on Chapter 6 of “Hanging by a Thread”, while DC fanboy needed a break from the angst. This is the result, enjoy.

Content warning: A dash of Chloe salt, mostly Audrey managing to piss off everyone. Ships: Jason Todd / Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Dick Grayson / Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain / Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake / Bernard Dowd (mentioned), Bruce Wayne / Selina Kyle.

Fiasco at the Wayne Gala

Jason stood at the driveway to Wayne Manor, bored out of his mind as he waited for Marinette to arrive. Another Wayne Gala was underway, with Gotham’s elite pouring into Wayne Manor. Marinette said she would be arriving with her roommate, Zoe. He took out his phone and messaged his girlfriend asking where she was. He was interrupted from his thoughts when a rude woman cleared her throat in front of him. Jason was just able to look up from his phone before he was berated for not paying attention to her.

“You! Valet! How dare you play on your phone when you should be attending to us guests?” the woman screeched. Jason cringed and immediately placed his phone back into his pocket, just as he was about to argue with this banshee that he wasn’t a valet, he was rudely interrupted again with another screech. “How unprofessional! Notify Bruce Wayne that I, Audrey Bourgeois have arrived,” she waved her hand as if to shoo him away. “Now go and park the car before I fire you.” She tossed her keys to Jason, before promptly walking away with her chin held snobbishly high.

Jason looked down at the keys in his hands. He looked at the woman walking away and then towards her car, a jet black convertible. He walked around the vehicle, admiring the exquisite European sports car. A mischievous grin grew on his face as he looked back at the keys in his hand, he jumped in over the door into the car and started its engine. It roared to life, Jason couldn’t resist stamping both his feet on the accelerator and brakes at the same time. The tyres screeched from the friction, spewing smoke behind him. He then spun around, performing a doughnut around the driveway. He left behind a trail of black tyre markings on the asphalt below. Jason stomped his foot onto the accelerator, all the way to the bottom. The engine roared in response with an immediate burst of power, rocketing him out of Wayne Manor, speeding off into the distance.

Meanwhile, Dick waited for the cloakroom attendant to return. In his hands he held Barbara’s coat. Him being the gentleman that he was, he volunteered to bring it to the cloakroom for her. As he patiently waited at the counter, he heard a throat being cleared behind him. He chose to ignore it but then the voice grew louder. He elected to ignore it again, but the person behind him then shouted “You!”

Dick turned in surprise, he looked around to the source of the voice, a woman wearing a black, white and gold ball gown with a white fur coat in her arms. Beside her was, what he assumed to be, her daughter. She wore a matching dress and an entitled look on her face. He looked around, thinking and hoping she was trying to talk to someone else.

The woman then threw her coat at Dick, it draped over his head completely. He looked as if he was wearing an expensive ghost costume, as the coat hung over his head. The rude woman continued, “Now put this in the cloakroom, bring me the ticket when you are done and make sure nothing happens to it.” Dick didn’t say anything at that moment, he hadn’t fully registered what had just happened. “It is an expensive Arctic Fox coat, if anything were to happen to it I will make sure Mr. Wayne fires you.” She stomped off with her daughter in tow, the two walked past Barbara with Haley napping on her lap. The two scoff in disgust at the sight of the dog, “Disgusting, don't you think?” Audrey asked her daughter.

Chloe repeated the sentiment, “Absolutely, Mother.”

Audrey nodded towards her daughter in approval before turning back to face Barbara, “Now get that mangy, misshapen mutt out of here before we file a complaint and get that thing put down!” she threatened before walking away.

Haley whimpered from the scary lady’s yelling, Barbara’s eyes narrowed as her hands moved to cover Haley’s floppy ears, “Oh no you did not just threaten Haley.”

“Where did she go? I can’t see.” Dick asked, the coat still covering his head.

Tim stood near the food table, enjoying canapés and several other hors d'oeuvre while waiting for his date, Bernard, to arrive at the gala. A loud voice caught his attention mid bite, “Is that you Timothy? Oh it is you.” He looked up from his plate to see an obnoxious woman wearing sunglasses indoors, at night.

“Do you remember me? I’m your Aunt Audrey.” the woman spoke.

Tim cringed internally, remembering the woman from past events. A horrible woman if he remembered correctly, always sucking up to his parents, pretending to be their friend. Most of all he remembered the constant attempts at matchmaking, doing whatever she could to pawn her daughter off to the Drake family to gain their favour. He quickly swallowed the appetizer in his mouth and answered “Hello Aunt Audrey.” with a strained smile. His mind was in a flurry, trying to think of a plan to get rid of her.

“Oh how handsome you’ve grown, why don't you spend time with my daughter? I brought her here today.” she suggested, her voice devoid of any sincerity.

Tim slowly backed off, looking around the room hoping to think of a plan to get her to leave him alone. “Well...you see…” he tried to stall for time. He then spotted a familiar plume of blonde hair standing near the performing band and rushed towards her. “Steph! You gotta help me!” he croaked.

She turned in surprise, “Tim? You okay? What's wrong?”

“Pretend to be my date” he blurted out.

“What?” she cried incredulously, “No, I’m dating Cass. What would Bernard say?” she responded angrily.

“Please, I’m begging you. At least until this crazy woman leaves me alone,” Tim explained, “she’s been trying to hook me up with her daughter for years.” Tim grabbed on to her arms and gave her a shake.

“What is this, some kind of fake dating storyline? Did I wake up in one of your K-Dramas?” She answered in a voice dripping with sarcasm. She then peered over his shoulder to see two women in hot pursuit, shoving guests aside. She was already feeling her mood sour from their presence.

“You owe me for this, understand?” Stephanie said, her fingers jabbed Tim in the chest before she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Thanks, I’ll pay you back some day.” Tim then held out his elbow for Stephanie, which she held on to.

Tim and Steph slowly walked up to Audrey, “Aunt Audrey, I’d like to meet my girlfriend Stephanie Brown.” He gestures towards his friend. Stephanie then kissed Tim in the cheek, trying her absolute best to not show just how irritated she was at the whole situation.

Audrey’s eyes twitched at the sight, but it was unnoticeable under her sunglasses. “Nice to meet you too Stephanie.” she greeted, venom dripping from her voice. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I will attend to other guests. It was nice meeting you again Timothy.” She then stomped away with Chloe in tow.

The two then breathed a sigh of relief as they were left alone, “I need a drink” groaned Stephanie, as she held onto her forehead. “I just hope that Cass didn't see....that.” She turned around to see Cassandra Cain right behind the two, a frown on her face.

Both Tim and Steph both held up their hands, attempting to placate the girl in front of them. “Tim needed a fake date to get rid of a crazy old hag.” explained Steph, as quickly and concisely as she could. Stephanie gave Tim the evil eye, thinking of all the ways she would hurt him if his fiasco cost her her relationship with Cass.

Cass spun her finger on the side of her head. Tim and Steph released a breath they both had been holding, worried of what Cass’ reaction would be. Fortunately for them, Cass was able to see the whole thing. From watching Tim’s desperate plea, to the subtle signs of discomfort as the two spoke to Ms. Bourgeois.

Damian clung to the edges of the party, he detested these events. However, as the son of Gotham’s Billionaire he had no choice but to attend. He wandered around, hands in his pockets, he hoped he could find a familiar face in a sea of strangers. Perhaps Gordon or Grayson would let him pet Haley, it would at least help pass the time better.

For someone unaware of who he was, one could possibly mistake him for a delinquent. Then again, he was the grandson of the Demon. He spotted the dog on Gordon's lap, and made his way towards her. He was then intercepted by a raging woman pointing her finger at him and calling him a trespasser and an intruder.

The gall of this woman, he clenched his teeth and yelled back. "Shut up you hag, I live here!"

The woman expressed a loud gasp, "How dare you call me that? Do you know who I am? I am Audrey Bourgeois, director of Style Queen."

Damian rolled his eyes, "What? A magazine giving fashion advice to shriveled old hags like you?" he shot back.

Audrey Bourgeois snapped, she yelled at the boy at the top of the voice "How dare you!"

Damian shouted back "How dare YOU! Do you know who I am?"

Their shouting match had drawn the entire attention of the ball room, eyes drawn to the argument unraveling before them. Tim and Dick walked closer, hoping to get a clear view of what was happening, and to intervene if necessary. Who knows what would happen with Damian around?

Alfred ignored the chaos unraveling around him as he pushed a food trolley through the ball room. However, a young woman with blonde hair rushed in front of his trolley. "May I help you?" He asked.

"My mother is being harassed by some miscreant, go get rid of him." Chloe growled towards the butler.

"Very well." Alfred complied and began walking to the two shouting their lungs off.

Damian spots the two former Robins approaching and calls out to them, "Grayson, Drake, tell her who I am and get rid of her."

Both Tim and Dick narrowed their eyes, annoyed about how all attention was now on the two of them. The two looked at each other, annoyed at their younger sibling.

Tim had a plan to redirect that attention and knock Hell Spawn down a peg, "Who are you?" he asked.

This infuriated Damian, he roared "Traitor!" and was about to throw fists at Tim before Alfred stepped in between them.

"Please, let us all calm down and enjoy this fine evening." Alfred attempted to calm the entire situation.

"Not until you get rid of him!" Audrey yelled, pointing her finger accusingly at Damian.

"I'm afraid I can't do that Madam." Alfred deadpanned.

Audrey stomped her foot in anger, then she pointed threateningly at Alfred. "You're fired!" she yelled.

Alfred sighs and answers in a monotone voice "Madam, with all due respect, I don't work for you. I work for Master Wayne, and in turn I also work for the young Master Wayne." He gestured to Damian, who stood there angrily with his arms crossed.

Audrey Bourgeois recoiled in shock, she attempted to come up with a retort. Alfred continued, "As per the young master's wishes, please leave the premises immediately."

Audrey gritted her teeth, "Fine. Call the valet to bring my car over." She commanded before marching off.

Alfred and Damian looked at each other, intrigued at the request for a valet. "Pennyworth, we don't have a valet for this evening, do we?" asked Damian.

"No Master Damian, though I suspect we may have a case of grand theft auto on our hands. I shall go check the cameras for our culprit.” Alfred furrowed his eyebrows and left for the Batcave.

Marinette and Zoe stood near a window. Marinette was worried, Jason was supposed to be at the party. He did not answer any of her calls or reply to any of her messages. She paced about, worried Jason was away dealing with an emergency.

Zoe on the other hand was red with embarrassment and shame. She was unfortunately related to the two wrecking balls tearing their way through the gala. She hoped to any and every deity above that they would prevent her mother from noticing her. However, this was to no avail as Zoe was spun around forcefully.

"...Zoe! Why did you not greet your dear mother?" Yelled Audrey.

Zoe began sweating bullets trying to think of an answer while being berated by her mother and half-sister. "I-I uh, I just got here." She shakily attempted to explain herself.

"What are you doing here Marinette?" Growled Chloe, annoyed at how such a clumsy girl would be even invited to this event.

Marinette put the phone back into her purse, "I was supposed to be here with my boyfriend, but I can't find him and he won't answer the phone."

Chloe laughed at the girl's plight, "Who would even date a loser like you? Any sane person would leave you."

Marinette gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, much to Chloe’s delight. Her contained rage and shame were interrupted as Audrey began complaining about a valet.

"Where is my car? Where is that damn stupid valet?" Audrey shouted.

Zoe and Marinette looked at each other, confused at the mention of a valet. "There was a valet?" Marinette asked nervously.

"Of course there was." Audrey told her.

"Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous," ranted Chloe, "He did not even dress properly and now he can't even deliver mother's car. Where is the idiot with the white streak of hair?"

Marinette and Zoe raised an eyebrow at the specific mention of a white streak of hair.

"At least it explains what Jason is up to." Marinette thought to herself, "They won't be getting the car back for a while, if at all."

Alfred had reviewed footage of the driveway earlier that evening, and had discovered Jason was the culprit. Alfred sighed as he picked up the telephone and attempted to call Jason. Just like Marinette, Jason was not answering his calls. Alfred then contacted Jason through his Bat Communicator.

"What's the emergency, Alfred?" Answered Jason.

Alfred could hear the sound of a roaring engine and wind whipping through the air over the communicator. "Master Todd, you are the emergency. Please return the automobile to the manor.

"Alright, I will if you bake me two dozen cookies. Just for me and no one else." Negotiated Jason.

"Very well, Master Todd." agreed Alfred "Now please return the vehicle." Alfred closed the call and made his way to the ballroom.

Jason turned the steering wheel of the car harshly, sending it to a tight drift, making a turn back towards Wayne Manor. "Alright you two, we're getting cookies!" he yelled to his passengers beside him.

"Yaaaaay" cheered Roy along with Lian on his lap.

Back in the ballroom, Alfred asked the guests to quiet down for he was making an announcement. "Esteemed guests, allow me to introduce Bruce Wayne.'' He stepped aside and gestured to Bruce atop the stairs with Selena Kyle. The two slowly walked down the stairs, and thanked each of their guests for attending the gala.

Audrey Bourgeois pushed past several attendees to get a closer look. Other guests gave her space, not wanting to incur her wrath. As she reached Bruce Wayne, she shoved Selena aside and wrapped herself around Bruce's arm. Taking extra attention to make sure her chest rubbed against his arm.

Zoe sped to the bathroom in absolute shame after watching her mother attempt to flirt with Bruce Wayne. Marinette remained by the window, waiting for Jason’s return. She was then approached by Alfred, holding a small basket of fresh cookies. “Good evening Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I just spoke to Master Todd, he is on his way.”

Marinette glanced at Audrey Bourgeois still attempting to flirt with Bruce, “the sooner he gets here the sooner she leaves.” she comments. She notices the cookies in the basket. “Can I have a cookie?” she asked, salivating at Alfred’s baking. Tikki peeked out from her small bag, enticed by the smell of the cookies.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Master Todd, I made these in order to entice him to return the car. Undamaged, I hope.” Alfred explains.

Fortunately Jason arrived at that moment, with Roy and Lian in tow, their hairs were messy from the wind. Alfred gave Marinette the basket of cookies and asked her to give them to Jason while he notified Ms. Bourgeois that her car had arrived. “Jason, where have you been? I've been trying to call you all night!” Marinette yelled.

Jason scratched the back of his head, “about that, some crazy lady thought I was a valet.”

Marinette crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, “I heard. But that doesn't mean you can take her car.” she huffed.

“ ‘Sup Little Wing,” Dick greeted Jason, “heard about your joyride from Alfred. How was it?”

“Awesome,” Jason replied, reaching into the basket of cookies. Roy, Lian and Tikki were already enjoying their share.

“Now that you’re back, that crazy woman can now go.” Dick said

“What did she do?” asked Jason curiously, hoping there would be a good story.

“For starters, she thought I was the cloakroom attendant. She threw her coat over my face, she pissed Babs off by calling Haley a ‘Misshapen Mutt’. Then she tried to hook her daughter up with Tim. On top of that, she managed to royally piss off Damian.” Explained Dick.

Jason’s jaw dropped while chewing his cookie, a few crumbs landing on the floor. Before doing a spit-take with the cookie in his mouth, he burst out laughing.

Meanwhile Alfred walked up to Audrey Bourgeois, who was still clinging onto Bruce Wayne as if her life depended on it. “Ahem, Madam Bourgeois, your automobile has arrived. Please kindly leave the premises.” interrupted Alfred.

“Come now, Brucie Darling. Are you really going to send me away after all we have been through?” Audrey asked coyly.

Bruce took a deep breath, “Ms. Bourgeois, please leave. As you can see my date, Ms. Kyle, has been very patient with you.” He points with his thumb behind him towards a glaring Selena.

Audrey growled loudly, “Fine, we are leaving.” She stomped out the front door. “You, Valet! What took you so long?” she demanded an explanation from Jason.

Jason spoke to her with his mouth full, spewing crumbs everywhere. “Having dinner, what's it to you?”

Audrey and Chloe recoiled at Jason’s bad manners, as a force of habit Audrey yelled back “I’ll have you fired for this.”

Jason continued undeterred, still answering with his mouth full of cookies. “Well shit, too bad.”

Frustrated at his aloof response, the two quickly got into the car and drove off. Everyone but the two Bourgeois noticed a large scratch and several dents along the side of the sports car as it drove away. “Yeah, uh, forget you saw that. Let’s get back to the party shall we?” suggested Jason. Everyone laughed hysterically at the wild night, now that the human wrecking ball had left.

As Marinette walked back into the manor, she pouted at Jason for keeping her waiting. “Come on now Pixie, are you still mad at me?” Jason asked.

“Yes, you stole someone’s car, drove off to who knows where. You didn’t answer any of my messages or calls. I was really looking forward to enjoying the Gala with you.” Marinette complained.

Jason ran in front of Marinette, stopping her in her tracks. “Look I’ll make it up to you Pixie, I promise. How about a dance then? The night is still young.” Jason said, offering his hand to Marinette.

Marinette contemplates for a moment before reaching out to hold his hand. “Fine, but this doesn’t mean I forgive you yet.”

The two then walked to the centre of the ballroom and danced the night away.

#jasonette #maribat chloe salt #maribat #ml x dc #dc x ml

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rebeccccccaaa · 3 years

Text

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞

____________________________

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A true enemies to lovers ;)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut 18+, angry makeout turned soft, gross fluff, bit of angst?

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst? (i still don’t really know what classifies as angst), confused feelings, age gap (reader of age), hate sex 18+, angry makeout turned soft, smut 18+, vulgar language, brutal insults, it’s just all mean

𝐀/𝐧: i literally cannot help falling in love it’s literally a problem. like words of affrimation is my one of my love languages. i’ll try not to include the next angst/smut lmao

_____________________________

(𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞)

“Wow,” Steve sighed.

Bucky had told him everything; not detailed but what he should know.

“Is it love?”

“I don’t fucking know, man. And it’s pissing me off,” Bucky sighed dramatically, making Steve chuckle.

“That’s crazy, man. Weird to think about; like you and her…” Steve gestured his hands together then cringed.

“Can you not?” Bucky laughed.

“I don’t know what to tell her. I don’t want to fight anymore but she doesn’t know that and I can’t just say, ‘Hey, when we slept together I realized I don’t fight you anymore because I think like you?’ She’ll kill me!”

“Who’ll kill you,” Nat said, returning with Tony, Clint, and Sam from the Hydra base.

“Nobody,” Bucky mumbled.

“Ok,” Nat continued walking to the medbay where you, Banner, and Cho were while Sam stayed with the boys.

“How is she doing?” Tony asked.

“Not good,” Banner said, biting his nails.

“What?” Nat gasped.

“She was in an extreme critical condition and no one was here to give her blood. Cho doesn’t share blood type, I’m radioactive, you guys were gone, and Steve and Buck have the serum,” Banner said.

Tony and Nat looked at each like they had something to say.

“What?” Banner asked.

“You’ll never guess what we recovered at the base,” Tony said, opening a slot in his suit.

He pulled out a tube similar to the shape of a pen that contained familiar blue liquid inside. Banner’s head shot up again looking back and forth between Nat and Tony.

“Will it work?”

“This could save her life,” Bruce whispered.

ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ

You grabbed our basket of laundry and walked back to your room. You turned the TV on and folded your clothes. You were still recovering from the last mission you went on with Bucky; you haven’t really spoken to him since. You two haven’t even fought since the day you came back.

Banner and Cho had injected the infamous super soldier serum Hydra refined. Apparently the entire charade of a fundraiser was to present a new type of serum to a shitty ‘board of directors’ a part of Hydra.

And now you were the only human being on earth to have it in your system.

Tony and Bruce were constantly running tests and safety precautions on you for the past three months and you were feeling fine. Better than before; maybe a little taller.

The effects heightened senses similar to Peter’s radioactivity, enhanced strength like the boys, and intelligence; by that you were able to retain more information and perceive complex data.

This was on top of what powers you already possessed. So now you were basically Tony, Peter, Wanda, and Steve wrapped up in a beautifully dainty bow.

Natasha has been re-training you alongside Steve, and you were slowly becoming stronger than them surprisingly. Wanda was still way more powerful than you though.

You finished a session with them and they advised you to rest but with the serum you practically didn’t need recovery time; maybe just a hot shower.

So here you are folding your clothes filling the time.

A light soft knock on your door disrupted you. You walked and opened the door finding none other than Bucky; truthfully the last person you expect.

“Can I come in?” he asked you.

“Uh sure. I’m folding laundry,” you said, stepping to the side to let him in.

“That’s alright.”

“What’s up?” you continued folding your clothes after turning the TV off.

“How are you doing?”

“Alright. Kinda feel better than before,” you smiled softly.

“That’s great.”

There was silence that coated you two. You were getting slightly annoyed as to what was going on with him. He’s been weird since the night you two hate fucked. And you weren’t having his shit anymore.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked bluntly.

“What do you mean?”

“Why have you been acting this way? Why aren’t we fighting?”

“I thought you didn’t like fighting.”

“I don’t which is why I’ve always hated you and vice versa,” you started to raise your voice in frustration.

“Maybe I don’t want to hate you anymore.”

“Why? Buck, we don’t fucking like each other! Sometimes people don’t get along and that’s us!”

“Fuck, Y/n. You’re so fucking stubborn. Don’t you realize how exhausting it is. We’re always yelling and fighting and throwing shit at each other. It doesn’t have to be like that anymore. These past three months we haven’t fought-”

“We haven’t talked in three months!” you yelled. He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you flushed against him.

“Godammit, woman.”

“Fuck you,” you said.

Bucky kissed you and you tried to push him away only making him grab you wrists and push against the wall. You furrowed your brows kissing him back however. He was so addicting and you hated it. The kiss slowly turned soft and sensual; your tongues swirling around each other.

He pulled away and found you had your eyes still closed. He went in for another kiss but you turned your head away; him not knowing that you didn’t want to give in again. You could hear and feel his heartbeat beating incredibly fast; as was yours.

“Can we start over?” he whispered against your ear, his forehead resting against your head.

You didn’t respond so he got off you and walked out of your room closing the door behind him. You wished then you would’ve said something. You breathe out not realizing you were holding your breath.

You went to finish folding your laundry but another knock echoed in the loud silence. And you knew exactly who it was.

You opened the door meeting your eyes with his.

“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he smiled.

“What are you doing?” you tried not to smile.

“I heard you were moving in today and thought it would be neighborly to drop by and say hi.”

“I’m not playing this charade with you,” you cracked a smile as he stepped closer to you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he whispered before grabbing your face and kissing you devotedly.

You laughed in the kiss and Bucky kicked the door closed with his foot. You wrapped your arms around his neck basking in the kiss. He pushed your basket of clothes to the floor, neither of you really caring too much if it landed alright.

You’ll make him redo it if not.

His hands brushed against your hot skin under your shirt after he laid you gently on your back. Not long after he whined, a way of begging you to take your shirt off. He tugged at it and you sat up finally letting him take it off.

His hands cupped your breasts while trailing kisses down your jaw and neck. He moved down your body and down the bed, standing up to strip himself of clothes. He did the same to you after he was bare. He settled between you and just watched your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“God, our fights killed me every fucking day. You’re so sexy when you’re mad,” he joked.

“Shut up,” you laughed turning your head away.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked seriously and gently.

“Yeah, I don’t want to fight anymore either,” you cupped his face.

“Ok,” he kissed you. He gently flipped you onto your stomach.

“Bedside?” he asked referring to condoms.

You nodded biting your lip, bringing your knees under your hips pushing your ass up for him.

Bucky wrapped his dick and pumped it a few times, rubbing your back softly with his other hand. He looked at your glistening pussy smiling knowing how wet you’d gotten because of him. He lined himself with your entrance and pushed himself in.

He stopped when he felt your body ever so slightly tensed up. You breathed heavily but urged him to continue. He moved in and out of you moaning. His hands rubbed up and down your back and your body trembled under him.

He leaned down and pressed kisses on your back slowing down a bit. You wiggled your hips wanting more and Bucky moved his hand up the front of your body. He pulled you up so you were pressed against his chest kissing your shoulder.

He moved widely fast in and out of you chasing his high. You were shaking against him, feeling your oragsm approaching insanely quick. You threw your head back onto Bucky’s shoulder. One of his hands played with your breast while the other reached down and rubbed your clit.

When he did, your body jerked and you moaned louder making Bucky smile. He moved faster and seconds later you both tumbled over the edge. Bucky moaned your name and bit you shoulder trying to suffice his moan. You didn’t give a shit though.

Your eyes rolled back and your hand wrapped around to grab Bucky’s face while the other around his hip, pulling and scratching him pleasurably. You moan, not you practically scream at how intense your oragsm hit you.

He fell forward softly trying not to crush you and kissed along your shoulder blades. You panted heavily under him, desperate to catch your breath. You laughed a bit after making him laugh too.

“That was … holy shit, wow,” you gasped.

“Good,” he smiled at you.

“What on earth do we say to others?” you rolled under him so you laid on your back.

“Eh, let ‘em figure it out,” he buried his face in your neck making you laugh.

You two went another round or two... or seven, until you guys finally rested and slept for the night. Suspiciously no one came looking for either of you.

The next morning you woke up in Bucky’s arms feeling strikingly sore. You never got sore. But considering you and Bucky are both enhanced and went on for hours last night, it doesn’t actually surprise you too much that that’s what it took to get you sore for the first since you've been enhanced with the serum.

You rolled over seeing Bucky still asleep. You were so confused.

Bucky stirred before opening his eyes meeting yours and smiled pulling you close again. He closed his eyes again and traced little patterns in your skin.

“What going on in that pretty head of yours, baby girl,” he asked.

“We hate each other,” you whispered.

“We don’t have to,” He opened his eyes again.

“This is a very slippery slope we’re approaching.”

“I know, but I want it. Do you?”

“Yeah,” tears formed in your eyes.

“What if this doesn’t work out though? We’ll hate each other even more,” you said, your voice breaking.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I could ever hate you again. I don’t think I ever really did. Disliked, yeah. But not hate.”

“I’m sorry i treated you like dog shit,” you sniffled making Bucky laughed.

“I’m sorry too.”

“Bucky?”

“Y/n?”

“I hate you,” a tear fell slowly down your cheek.

“I hate you too," he chuckled, kissing your temple before closing his eyes again.

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