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fishfingersandjellybabies · 3 years

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Still a Little Bit Yours (Part 2) - fic

Characters: Jon Kent, Damian Wayne, various Batfam Pairing: jondami Summary: If there was one thing the world needed to learn, it was that you don’t hurt those Jonathan Kent loves. A/N: This is just basic smoop sprinkled with angst. Bruce gave Cass and Duke special permission to be extra rough on those who kidnapped Damian/hurt them in the first place. Jon and Damian wake up to Bruce on the chair and like half the fam sleeping on the end of the bed. Damian gets so mad at them. Let him sleep with his boyfriend in peace, dammit! Jon ends up now never leaving the bed and basically becomes Damian’s personal pillow as his recovery continues.

Part One | Part Two

That call. That was all they needed, it turned out. The call that shattered Jon’s whole world was the one thing that might help piece it back together.

Even though it’d been over a month, the Bat-tech was able to hone in on the signal easily, and they were in the air and on their way back to France within three hours of Jon and Tim’s arrival to the Batcave.

Bruce wasn’t thrilled. He’d told Jon to go home at least seven times, that they’d contact him when Damian was safe. But at this point, Jon couldn’t believe that, not when they didn’t tell him he was missing in the first place.

He was even less thrilled when Jon grabbed the Justice League communicator out of his hand and smashed it, when Bruce said he was going to call Clark to take him back to Metropolis.

“I’m not ten anymore, Bruce.” Jon reminded with a dark giddiness as he dropped the shattered pieces onto the table. “And Damian is my boyfriend.”

“Is he still?” Jason quipped from nearby, hooking guns to his holsters. Tim had caught them all up with Jon’s side of things. “I mean…you just spent the last month thinking you were broken up and getting over him, right?”

“As part of the family that went to Apokolips to collect his dead body and resurrect him, I don’t think I have to tell you, Jason.” Jon grinned widely. “You don’t just get over Damian Wayne.”

Jason thought a moment, then snorted a laugh and clapped a hand on Jon’s shoulder.

“Okay. I get why he fell in love with Boy Scout Jr. now.” He chuckled.

“…For what it’s worth.” Jon added sheepishly, though, as Jason moved away, and Cassandra and Stephanie approached, moving towards their jet. “…Even if the breakup was real, I…I still wasn’t coping very well with it.”

The women both just smiled knowingly, and Steph jumped up to ruffle at his hair. And for a moment, Jon remembered that, for as much as he missed Damian the last month, he missed seeing the other Bats almost as much.

Bruce grumbled the rest of the time they spent gathering supplies and weapons about how Jon shouldn’t be there, and he didn’t want him nor his help. It was eventually Dick and Duke who took Bruce to the side and had him see the light. Begrudgingly allow Jon to come along.

“On one condition.” Bruce demanded, stomping up to him near the jet’s door. It’d already been decided that Jon would fly alongside the plane. “You do not engage. This is still an open investigation, and I don’t need you accidentally destroying any evidence.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m only there for Damian anyway.” Jon returned just as gruffly. “You guys be offense, I’ll be defense and extraction. No problem.”

Bruce glared at him for a moment more before raising his cowl and disappearing into the ship. Dick sighed from nearby, following after.

“He’s just worried.” He promised. “About you and Damian. And after already losing Damian like this, the thought of what might happen to you, he…”

Dick trailed off, and Jon was suddenly reminded that he was a lot closer to fifty than thirty these days, and had already lost a lot. Had already lost Damian a lot. And, clearly, it never got easier. Not for Dick or Bruce, or anyone in their family.

“…He’s still alive, Dick.” Jon whispered with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “I can still hear his heartbeat. He’s still here, just…waiting for us.”

Dick nodded absently, before he met Jon’s gaze and let his mask of cautious hope fall across his face. “Then let’s go get him, Jonno.”

The flight was long. Too long. And even alone outside the ship, Jon listened through the communicator as the Bats planned their attack, outlined the known schematics of the compound that they found, and any potential hidden areas they might have missed.

At least every ten minutes, Bruce was reminding Jon that he was to not get involved. That he was there for Damian’s defense and safety only.

Jon only rolled his eyes, muttered an exasperated, “Yes, sir.” And focus on the heartbeat that got closer every second.

(Closer…and slower. But he didn’t share that part with the rest of the rescue party.)

The compound wasn’t far from where Duke and Cassandra had been beaten and abandoned, but the reason they couldn’t find it afterwards was because it was underground, and seemingly cloaked with tech none of them had ever seen before.

“Alien?” Duke had asked as they neared it.

“Or bankrolled by some selfish rich fuck.” Jason countered. “We’ll find out if Bruce Wayne does a hostile takeover of any companies here in the next week or so, I bet.”

“Hm.” Bruce grunted. But it wasn’t a no, so they all shared one last pre-battle laugh anyway.

They circled the area for a moment, doing some last minute recognizance. “I hear at least twenty-five heartbeats besides Damian’s, Batman.” Jon called. He flicked to his x-ray vision. “And they’re spread between what looks like two rooms.”

“Evenly?” Tim asked.

“Mmm, it doesn’t look like it.” Jon decided. “Looks like a 70-30 split.”

“Damian?” Cassandra asked softly.

“Can’t tell for sure.” Jon scanned the space again, just in case. “One body looks like it could be him, and it’s in the room with less people.”

“Remember, Superman-” Bruce started, but Jon, suddenly out of patience, cut him off.

“I’m defense. You’re offense. I’m there to get Damian out and that’s it.” He rolled his eyes. “I know, Batman.” He curled his hands into fists. “Now are we just going to hover up here all day or are we finally going to go get him?”

There was a moment of silence. Then Bruce calmly, emotionlessly, stoically announced:

“On my mark.”

For as grouchy, bossy, and by-the-book Batman always acted – he was still just a big kid with big toys. And his mark wasn’t a word, but an action. And that action was turning the nose of the jet towards the ground, so he could crash land into the underground bunker of the freaks who’d kidnapped his son.

Jon grinned, and suddenly remembered why Batman was a lot of people’s favorite superhero.

He stayed off to the ship’s side, just in case. In case Bruce actually lost control of the ship, if any of the other Bats ended up hurt in the process. So he listened as the nose slammed into the earth for any screams of pain.

But all he heard was the screeching of metal, and the crashing of ceiling materials as the jet lodged itself into the roof of the compound. There were screams now, of surprise from the building’s inhabitants, and shouts for some to grab weapons.

One last shout from Stephanie as Bruce opened the cockpit, and the Bats began to file out like ants. “Oh fuck yeah, was that fun!”

Everyone was fine. Everyone was safe.

So time to do his job and find the one that wasn’t.

He dove through the lingering smoke, dodging bodies being thrown by the mini-army of vigilantes that had just arrived. Dodged weapons from the incoming henchmen as they raced into the room to help their colleagues.

Jon didn’t pay them much mind other than to notice that their clothing was a little off. There wasn’t any body armor or helmets. Just dark maroon robes, sashed belts. They almost looked like priests.

You know, if they weren’t running at him with guns and knives and…was that one carrying an unlidded jar of acid?

He didn’t care. The Bats could handle them.

He tried to remember what he saw with his x-ray vision as he weaved through the halls. Bruce had crashed into the room with the most people, so that stood to reason that the pseudo-priests Jon had seen were coming from the room with less people. The smaller room, the room where he thought Damian was.

Well, if those priests came from where Damian was, that was even less people to take out than he was originally planning.

He let Damian’s heartbeat guide him. And for a moment, he remembered when he listened for it after the ‘breakup.’ How he thought the slowness of it meant Damian was calm, relaxed.

God, how could he be so stupid? It didn’t mean he was calm. It meant he was fucking dying. How could Jon be so dense? How could he not notice?

He reached a closed door and could hear panicked voices behind it, could hear Damian’s heartbeat at the loudest it’d been so far.

The door didn’t stand a goddamn chance.

He recognized that Damian wasn’t near it, so kicked the door as hard as he could without a care. It practically disintegrated under the heel of his boot. He heard the other people in the room scream as they were showered with splinters but didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything else right now.

He let his heat vision take over his vision as he stepped into the room. There were three people in here, each holding crude weapons – a stick, a shattered bottle and a chair.

“Leave.” Jon ordered. The people cowered only slightly, but stood their ground. And Jon didn’t have time for that. “Or I’ll make you.”

They gave it one last moment to try and be brave, and any other time Jon might commend them for it. Try to talk them down, be more like his dad.

But this wasn’t any other time.

So he turned to the chair and used his heat vision to turn it to ash.

And that was enough. The other two dropped their weapons and held up their hands. Jon shifted out of the doorframe and watched them as they ran for safety.

He stared after them until they turned a corner, going away from the sanctuary Bruce and the others were in, a bonus of course, though he knew the Bats could have handled them. Then he quickly turned back, scanning the room.

It wasn’t a jail cell, or a dungeon. Just an empty, ugly, dark room. There was a table in the corner, and a TV that showed the field outside, acting almost like a window.

There was a closed curtain in the corner, that clearly hid an alcove of some sort. Damian’s heartbeat was coming from there.

Jon doesn’t know how he crossed the room. One second he was by the door, and the next he was at the curtain, slowly pulling it back. Did he float? Did he run? He didn’t know.

“Damian?” He whispered as he tugged the sheet away. “Can you hear…?”

The question died on his lips at the sight in front of him. It was Damian all right, half naked and huddled against the corner of this makeshift pantry. He was thin, so thin, like he hadn’t eaten in the month since he’d been taken. His hair was longer, past his ears, and dirty. The grease shone in the dim light.

There were bruises and cuts all over his body, some of them looked infected. His eyes were black and swollen, his lip split in multiple places. Dried blood caked along his nostrils.

But that might not have even been the worst part.

Though, really, was there just one single worst part? Were the heavy chains around Damian’s neck, wrists and ankles that latched him to the wall the worst part? Or was it the barrage of needle marks that twisted up his inner arms all the way up to his jaw?

Jon’s eyes filled with tears. But not from pain, like they usually did. Not from hurt or emotions.

From utter, blinding fury.

They did this to him. Those fucking fake priests that he’d just showed mercy to did this to him. To Damian. To the love of his fucking life.

He’d kill them. He’d go snap all their necks right now. Break every bone in each of their bodies and let them die slowly and painfully. Then burn them into ash and throw their remains in a dumpster.

He even felt himself take a step back, to do just that. But stopped when he heard Damian let out a wheezing exhale.

“Damian?” He asked again. Damian had never answered the first time. Was he even conscious? Was he aware of what was happening? He took the last few steps forward and kneeled, putting a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “D, can you hear me?”

Damian tensed at his touch and tried to jerk away, but just ended up bouncing his shoulder painfully against the stone wall behind him. When he looked up, his eyes looked almost feral, but them immediately softened as recognition took hold.

He blinked once. Twice. “…Jonathan?”

Jon swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded with a sad smile.

“What are you doing here?” Damian asked, even as Jon shifted his hand from Damian’s shoulder to his face. Damian’s skin was cold. “They…” Damian’s eyes were suddenly angry. “If they’ve laid a hand on you, I swear I’ll-”

“Nothing of the sort.” Jon promised. “We’re here to get you out of here. Take you home.”

Damian blinked and slumped back. “We?”

“Your family.” Jon explained vaguely as he let his hand fall, run gently over a scab along Damian’s chest. “God, I’m so glad I found you.”

“…I’m sorry.” Damian murmured, and Jon looked up at him in confusion. “I…I lost track of the days some time ago, but you must have been worried sick. I’m sorry for causing you any distress.”

Jon’s stomach twirled in guilt. Because he wasn’t worried, not at all. And was now the time to say that? To say ‘Oh, no, I wasn’t worried, because it turns out the psychopaths who kidnapped you pretended to be you and broke up with me.’?

No. No it absolutely fucking wasn’t.

“…Nothing is your fault.” Jon decided on. He reached forward and grabbed the collar around Damian’s neck, snapping it with a quick jerk of his hands. He followed suite with the chains around his arms and legs too. “Can you walk? Your family is taking care of the others, my only job is to get you safe.”

“…I don’t know.” Damian hummed honestly, eyes fluttering slightly. “And I don’t know if my body is strong enough to try right now.”

Jon looked back up at him with another smile. Less sad this time, more genuine. Let it reach his eyes. “No problem.” He returned his hand to Damian’s face, gently pushed his long hair out of the way. Without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed Damian as gently as he could, then pressed their foreheads together. “Jesus, I’m just…just so glad you’re alive.”

Damian scoffed a quiet laugh, and opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly there was a noise from the room behind them. They both looked back to see Batman storming in through the door.

“Superboy?” He asked as he stopped, glanced around Jon. “We…all good here? You found him?”

Jon squeezed Damian’s face just slightly before standing and turning back. “Yes, sir. Alive and well.”

Bruce nodded. “And the rest are taken care of. So let’s get the hell out of here.”

Jon nodded. “Can you help me get him up? I don’t think he can walk real well right now.”

Bruce seemed to hesitate, glancing past Jon’s shoulder again, but nodded, and took a step towards him.

And as soon as he was close, Jon grabbed the side of his head and slammed it through the closest wall.

“…That’s twice now you’ve gotten my name wrong.” Jon spit, looming over the man as he groaned in pain. “And that’s twice you’ve done a piss poor imitation of someone I care about.”

Batman looked up at Jon in confusion, borderline hurt. But then the eyes widened in realization, and instantly shifted from Bruce’s icy blue to a sickly yellow. “You.”

“Me.” Jon grinned wildly. “And I’ll admit it – you got me the first time. Because I had no idea what had happened, so of course, why wouldn’t I believe the phone call I was getting?”

Batman began to shift now, lose his muscle mass, his uniform began to change to a deep maroon.

“But then I was told the truth, and all the clues that didn’t make sense before suddenly began to piece together.” Jon hummed, picking the man up by his collar. He was much smaller than Bruce. Much thinner. Much older. “So when they said they were coming to kick your ass, I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He slammed the man into the wall again, but held him there. Used his other hand to grab the man’s throat.

“Why.” He hissed. “Tell me why.”

The man choked slightly, feet scrabbling for floor, hands grabbing at Jon’s. “Lazarus.” He wheezed. “He…he carries the waters of Lazarus in his blood. I saw it in his eyes. The green of his eyes. In the field. I knew.” A cough. “I knew it was fate that we found him. He was the one who was going to make us immortal.”

Jon’s eyes widened. The needle marks. The acid the other man was carrying from this room. Experiments, no doubt. To get the magical Lazarus waters out of Damian’s blood that they believed was there.

But Damian was stubborn, and probably put up a fight. So they beat him into submission, tortured him, stabbed him with needles to drain him dry. But they couldn’t kill him, oh no. Because if Damian died they’d lose their chance at the power of the Lazarus Pit.

They were using him, like he was no more than a thing.

Jon’s nostrils flared. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you bastard.”

“…Beloved.” Damian whispered, and Jon found himself turning towards him without thinking. Damian looked tired, still slumped against that wall, head leaning against the stone. “Don’t.” He closed his eyes. “Just…leave him for Batman.”

Batman’s demands came rushing back. They were offense. Jon was defense.

Jon’s only job was to get Damian safe.

Silently, Jon nodded, but instead of dropping the man, gave himself one last piece of revenge, and threw the man across the room into the table and fake-window TV. The man gave a low moan, and it sounded like music to Jon’s ears as he walked back over to Damian, and gathered him into his arms.

Damian didn’t complain about being held, didn’t complain about being coddled. Just wrapped an arm around Jon’s neck and leaned against his shoulder.

“Thank you.” He whispered, and Jon just kissed his forehead, trying to ignore the mere fact of how much pain Damian must have been in. How exhausted.

But as he crossed the room, he stopped near the door, just once, and turned to the man.

He didn’t care who he was. What his name was. But he did care about one thing.

“Why did you call me?”

The man didn’t uncurl from his fetal position, didn’t even open his eyes. “Because we knew you would come for him.” He hissed. “The lovers always do.”

Jon blinked, and watched the man for a moment, before turning and walking out of the room, Damian a calming weight in his arms.

It was a cult in that underground bunker, Jon learned later. One obsessed with becoming immortal so they could be gods. They’d kidnapped, tortured and killed at least ten people over the years before they took Damian, all for the same reason.

Jon honestly couldn’t care less.

After escaping the compound, Jon flew to a previously agreed upon spot in Geneva, where Batman had a safe house that Alfred had flown ahead to. He radioed onto the open line as he did so, and Duke, mid-battle, shouted an affirmative, and promise that they’d meet him there.

Damian could barely hold onto consciousness during the flight, and it only made Jon fly faster, to an almost dangerous speed.

Alfred met them on the balcony, and motioned for Jon to follow him after he landed. A penthouse in Geneva wasn’t exactly a hospital, so instead of a medical cot, Jon carefully laid Damian in an extravagant king-sized bed.

Jon helped where he could, which, admittedly, wasn’t in very many places. The thing he was best at, he found, was getting in the way. But, bless him, Alfred never chastised him. Never told him to move.

��This is almost a luxury.” Alfred had quipped at one point as he checked Damian’s IV bag. “Normally I’m trying to work around at least five anxious persons, not one calm one.”

Jon had tried to smile, but it didn’t come out right. Alfred seemed to understand, though, and just gave Jon’s shoulder a quick squeeze as he passed him.

Finally, Alfred proclaimed himself finished, having done all he could. He’d disinfected and wrapped wounds, given Damian painkillers and set up the IVs to replenish Damian’s fluids. The rest of his healing would come in time. For now, he’d be in the kitchen fixing Damian something gentle to eat, before preparing food for the rest of the rescue party’s eventual arrival.

Jon nodded, and sat at Damian’s bedside.

It was almost midnight by the time the rest of the Bats arrived. They explained to Jon and Alfred their investigation, and what the cult had told them. Got checked out by Alfred, came and checked on Damian, and then one by one, they each went off to another room to settle down for the rest of the night.

Jon remained at Damian’s side.

And he didn’t move. Not to sleep, he just laid his head on the mattress. Not to eat breakfast or any meal, just balanced it on his lap. He didn’t even get up to offer his seat when anyone came in to visit their brother.

He just sat there, staring at Damian’s battered face and holding his cold hand.

Damian didn’t wake up that day, or even the day after. He could tell the others were starting to get antsy about it, and agitated. What if Damian didn’t wake up? What if that cult had actually killed him, and he’d survived just long enough to see them all again? To get taken to safety?

So the Bats threw themselves into the investigation to distract themselves. Who was cult? Who funded them? Who had they killed?

Jon just stayed on his stool at Damian’s side.

It was the morning of the third day, some time before dawn. Jon had his head pillowed against his arm on the mattress next to Damian’s elbow, half turned to watch the moon reflect off the clouds through the balcony doors.

He listened as Damian inhaled, but paid it no mind. Not until: “…What are you doing?”

Jon sat up so fast he made himself dizzy. In the dim light, Damian’s half-lidded sea foam eyes almost glowed.

“W-what?”

“What are you doing?” Damian repeated groggily.

“I…I couldn’t sleep, so I was just watching the stars…” He started, but trailed off when Damian lazily waved a hand.

“I mean, why are you sitting on that stool?” Damian asked. He flopped his hand out to the open side of the bed. “There’s clearly space here. Even if you can’t sleep, at least let yourself be comfortable.”

Jon instantly dropped his gaze to his knees, and even half conscious, Damian noticed.

“Beloved, what’s wrong?” He asked sleepily, weakly reaching his hand towards Jon.

Jon pulled his hand away.

This time, Damian’s inhale was sharp. He pulled his hand back and dropped it onto his own stomach. “…Alright.”

“No, it’s not…!” Jon suddenly realized how that looked. Knew how Damian would take it. “I don’t…You didn’t…” He sighed, dropped his face into his hands. “I don’t deserve it.”

“What?” Damian asked. “Deserve what?”

“To hold your hand. To lay in your bed.” Jon groaned. “You.”

Damian hesitated, grunted softly as he shifted. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“The day you went missing, they…that shapeshifter guy, he stole your phone and he called me. As you.” Jon closed his eyes, trying to hide even further. “He…he broke up with me as you. And I…it didn’t make any sense, it never made any sense to me, but I believed him.”

Another moment of quiet. “…Oh.”

“I know. I’m an idiot.” Jon lamented. “Because how could I not know my own boyfriend? How could I believe you would break up with me over the phone?”

“Or…ever.” Damian agreed. “Unless you want…”

“Or ever!” Jon cut off dramatically, curling his covered face to his knees. “How could I believe you’d do that, and not question it! Not question that you never answered your phone after that, never told anyone, never came back to Metropolis for any reason! Even dream you tried to tell me and I just…”

“Dream me?” Damian asked. Suddenly there were fingers stroking at Jon’s hair, and he held his breath. “You dreamed about me?”

“I thought about you every second of every day.” Jon admitted glumly. “I felt like such a loser, not being able to get over you.” He paused, curled into himself more. “For believing it all in the first place.” He shook his head. “I don’t even deserve to be sitting here next to you, Damian. I don’t.”

He felt Damian’s fingers stroke for a few more seconds, then heard Damian scoff a laugh.

“Jonathan, you’re so funny.”

Those fingers in his hair were instantly at his chin, tilting his face up and out of his hands. Damian, looking beyond exhausted, was smiling at him.

“Come lay with me.” Damian asked softly.

Jon stared up at him for a moment, let his eyes wander down the bandages and new scars, then back up. “You shouldn’t want me to.” He breathed. “In fact, you should break up with me for real, because I’m such a fucking-”

“Do you want me to?” Damian asked seriously. “Do you want me to break up with you? Would you like us to remain apart? Because if after this past month that’s what you’ve decided is best for you, then I will do my best to give it to-”

“No.” Jon said instantly. “No, I…” His breath trembled. “No, I don’t want us to be apart anymore.”

“Nor do I.” Damian agreed with a gentle smile. He laid his arm across the bed. “…Please.”

Jon stared at him for a moment, then sighed and stood, carefully floating over Damian to drop onto his other side.

Damian weakly reached up to pull Jon into his arms, like a child grabbing for a balloon, and Jon let himself be dragged into Damian’s side. Latched onto Damian’s waist and hid his face against Damian’s chest.

His heartbeat was loud now. Still slow, a little too slow for Jon’s liking, but loud, and right under Jon’s ear, right where it was supposed to be.

“I’m sorry.” Jon whispered, as he felt Damian kiss at his hair, gently run his fingers along Jon’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Damian.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should apologize to you, for what that shifting bastard did.” Damian hummed, and already Jon could sense he was falling back into unconsciousness.

Because he feels safe, Jon didn’t let himself think. He feels safe here with me.

“…I love you.” Jon breathed, closing his eyes, squeezing Damian as tightly as he dared. “I love you so much, Damian.”

“I love you as well, Jonathan.” Damian answered just as softly. “For as long as I live. No matter what anyone tells you, please always remember that.” He carefully laid his hand over the one Jon had on his hip. “…Thank you for finding me. For saving me.”

“Always.” Jon smiled, looking up at Damian. Damian’s eyes were already closed once more, his breathing evening out. “Always and forever.”

“Forever and ever.” Damian mumbled as he drifted off. Jon watched him for a few more moments, until he was sure Damian was asleep again. Then he leaned up and left a careful kiss to Damian’s cheek. Lingered for a moment, then curled up under Damian’s chin, clung to him like he was a giant teddy bear.

He let his boyfriend’s heartbeat lull him to sleep.

#Damian Wayne #jon kent #jonathan kent #jondami

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dccomicsimagines · 4 years

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Blackmail - Hal Jordan x Reader - Part Two

Part One

Warning - Pregnancy

Requested by Anon - Please make a sequel to blackmail about a month later green lantern still being loyal to keep the reader alive and the reader finds out she is pregnant and tries to hide it but superman scans her and finds out and uses it to make more of a advantage against Hal. Please please please

Requested by Anon - Blackmail was really good! You should totally right a sequel to it :)

Requested by Anon - Hi,love your work! Would you be willing to do another part to the Hal Jordan imagine, blackmail? Thank you <3

***

“Please be stress, please be stress,” you whispered over and over to yourself in the tiny bathroom connected to the ice room that was your new home. You eyed the feminine products on the counter. The robot brought them in with your meal that morning.

How did they know when you would need them? You shivered. The only issue was that you were late. Very late.

You hid the products under the sink. “It’s just stress.” However, your mind started count the days. The last time you and Hal...it was before all this. It was the night before he left to go to the Green Lantern Corps meeting about Superman.

Suddenly, you tasted acid in your mouth. You fell onto the toilet to lose the breakfast you managed to eat. “Hal, I need you now.” Once you were finished, you crawled your way up to the sink and washed out your mouth. Your cheeks were already wet from the tears you didn’t notice until now.

“Miss (Y/N), it is time for the hour exercise,” the robot said from the other room. You froze, holding your breath. The robot opened the bathroom door a moment later, staring at you with it’s empty eyes. You hated it so much. About two days into your imprisonment, you had attempted to attack the robot. It didn’t work, and you were drugged into a stupor for a day afterwards.

You pressed your lips together and brushed past the robot to the door. It followed you closely. You knew the way to the garden by now. Besides, you wanted to see if you could meet someone else on the way.

Two weeks ago, you met Diana. You tried to talk to her, but the robot dragged you off. “Hal,” you whispered under your breath, hoping you would see him. You hadn’t seen him since he explained how you were to be Superman’s prisoner indefinitely. Everything in you hoped Hal wasn’t being forced to do something terrible. You swallowed hard. You couldn’t live with yourself if he did.

Your hand fell to your stomach absentmindedly. What would happen if you were pregnant? What would Superman do? The robot pushed you along when you slowed down. Finally, you reached the garden. It was warmer than your cell. You slid off your coat.

The robot stationed itself by the door. It’s cold, lifeless eyes watched you as you walked along the path and out of it’s sight. You walked around, touching a plant here and there. Slowly, you sat down on a bench, feeling a little weak. There wasn’t another way out of the garden, so you didn’t bother to try to find a way to escape. You already tried for the month you’ve been here. Was it a month? The days all blurred together.

“(Y/N)?” You tensed, jumping to your feet to find Superman landing behind you.

“Fuck you,” you growled, hating him. He visited you every day. It was only recently that he started talking to you. Before he would just stare. Your blood ran cold. He would know if you were pregnant, wouldn’t he? Maybe that’s why the feminine products came when they did, to let you know he knew.

“Your heartbeat is faster than normal.” He studied you. You shivered, loathing how he looked at you. “You will have a physical.”

“My heart could be beating fast because I’m afraid of you.” You swallowed hard. The physical would confirm what he already knew. Even though you wanted to know, you had to keep it a secret.

Superman frowned, floating over to you. He grabbed your chin to look you in the eye. You stared back at him, narrowing your eyes. “You’re not afraid.” His grip on your chin tightened in warning. Your heart skipped a beat. “Besides, we can’t have you sick. What will Hal say when he visits you next?”

“Like you care.” You pulled away from him. He let you go. “Lois would be ashamed of you.”

His eyes narrowed, glowing red. You shrank away. Your blood froze in terror, but part of you hoped he’d do it. Hal would be free to stop him if he didn’t have to worry about you anymore. “Don’t.”

“Come on, do it,” you hissed, gathering whatever courage you had left. If you were pregnant, you hoped your baby would forgive you for getting yourself killed.

Superman took a deep breath. His eyes turned back to their normal icy blue. “You will have the physical.” He frowned. “I was going to give you access to a library to entertain yourself, but that will have to wait. We’ll have to see how well Hal does.”

You exploded, swearing at him as you tried to hit him. He floated out of your reach. The robot came around the corner and grabbed your arms. It’s grip was tight, bruising you.

Superman frowned and flew away. The robot dragged you away. “Hal!” you screamed, hoping beyond hopes he could hear you. “Hal!”

***

Two months passed. Hal sighed, burying his head into his hands. He felt empty, lost. The weight of his ring on his finger was gone. He was no longer a Green Lantern. What was he without his ring? Without you?

“Jordan.” Superman’s voice echoed from the window of Hal’s small apartment. It wasn’t the one he shared with you as he was unable to go back there knowing you were trapped in the Fortress of Solitude forever.

“What do you want?” Hal asked tiredly. His voice cracked, defeated. “I’ve already lost my ring for you. I’ve done everything you asked. Let (Y/N) go, and we’ll go live somewhere. We won’t rebel against you. Please, just let me see her.” He ran his hand down his face and over his unshaven chin.

Superman laughed. “You may, but I need you to get a ring. I need a Lantern on my side. Enforcing the law needs someone with that kind of power.”

Hal jumped to his feet, pointing a finger in Superman’s face. “I can’t be a Green Lantern anymore. You shouldn’t have made me do what you made me do.”

“You can be a Lantern again if you make a deal with Sinestro.” Superman smiled cruelly as Hal’s jaw dropped open in horror.

“No, I will never.” Hal dropped his hand, clenching it into a fist. He reminded himself that punching Superman will only break his hand.

“I need Lanterns on my side. Join Sinestro, become a Yellow Lantern and I will let you see (Y/N).” Superman pulled a photo out of his pocket. “Or I will have (Y/N)’s pregnancy aborted.”

Hal gasped, staring at the photo. It was an ultrasound. He could make out a tiny form of a baby. “You wouldn’t. Not after Lois. You wouldn’t.” Hal stared at Superman in disbelief. His mind counted the months. You could be pregnant with his child. He remembered not using protection the last time he slept with you.

“I will.” Superman’s face blanked. Cold hard steel. “Do it, Hal. Come to the fortress with your new ring, and you’ll get to spend the day with (Y/N).” Superman flew off. Hal collapsed to the ground, shaking.

“Fuck you,” Hal muttered, knowing Superman would hear him. A sob slipped past his lips, unable to stop himself. The idea you were pregnant should have made him happy. In another time, he would have been, but now all he could think was how you and him would raise a child under Superman’s steel thumb.

***

You sat up in the fur covered bed when the door opened. With all your might, you threw a rock stolen from the garden. You kept your eyes closed, waiting to feel the hot lasers from Superman’s eyes or the cold needle from the robot. The rock clanged against the hallway wall.

“Woah,” a wonderful, tired voice said. Your eyes flew open.

“Hal?” You soaked in the sight of him. His clothes were baggy, his face thinner. In his hand, he held a gift bag and a bouquet of flowers. The dark circles under his eyes made you want to help him anyway you could. You rolled to your feet with your baby belly and ran over to him. He wrapped his arms around you.

“Yeah, baby.” Hal dropped the bag and the flowers to pull you closer. Your belly pressed against his stomach. You knew he’d feel it and instantly know about the baby you were carrying. Of course, you assumed Superman would have told him already. “I missed you so much.”

Tears ran down your cheeks as you ran your fingers through his hair. It needed a wash. You pressed your cheek against his, feeling the burn of his whiskers. He needed to shave too. “I missed you too. It’s been so long.” Tightening your arms around him, you felt how thin he had gotten.

“I know.” He kissed your lips desperately as if you were the very air he needed to breath. Slowly, Hal backed you up to the bed before guiding you down to sit on the edge. He broke the kiss. “I brought you some things.” He picked up the flowers and the gift bag again.

“Thank you.” You took them from him, kissing him again. Hal smiled into the kiss. The shadows in his eyes lightened. His shoulders relaxed fully. You trailed your hand down his back, melting into him. Hal dropped to his knees in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” Hal whispered between kisses.

“You don’t have to be sorry. None of this is your fault. It’s his.” You pulled away to look him in the eye. Your hand reached down to find his. Tracing his ring as you always did, you frowned when the pattern felt different. “What?” You looked down, pulling Hal’s hand closer. Your heart dropped when you saw the yellow ring on his finger.

Hal paled, looking away from you. “Don’t ask.” His hand started to shake.

“Oh, sweetheart.” A sob worked it’s way up your throat. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. “I’m so sorry I made you do this.”

“You didn’t make me do anything.” Hal stiffened in your arms. “Clark did it.”

You gasped. “Don’t say his name. He’ll come here.” Running your fingers through his hair again, you shivered.

“Did he hurt you?” Hal coughed, relaxing at your touch.

“No. Just frightened me.” You patted your baby bump. “We’re both fine.” Hal slid a shaky hand onto yours.

“I always imagined this moment, but I never thought it would be like this.” Hal kissed you gently.

“No, I thought I’d get to find out on my own. Maybe do a cute reveal thing?” You pulled away, looking him in the eye. “But I’m glad you’re here now. That we’re both here for this.”

Hal smiled sadly. “You should open your present.” He set it in your lap. You sighed, giving him a small smile.

Pulling away the tissue paper, you gasped. “Oh, sweetheart.” You held up a set of newborn onesies with little airplanes on them. “These are adorable.”

“I picked them up after I came to my senses.” He looked haunted, so unlike himself.

You kissed him passionately, desperate to chase away the shadows in his eyes. “I love you so much.”

Hal moaned, pushing you to lay down on the bed as he crawled on top of you. “You make everything better.”

“Good.” You studied him between kisses, hoping you could make everything better from him.

***

You didn’t see Hal again for four more months. Your belly was huge, and you felt like a whale. The baby moved a lot, unaware how they were about to be born into a prison.

“Miss (Y/N), it is time for the hour exercise.” The robot opened the door to your bedroom. You sighed, sitting up in bed with some difficultly. Your feet were still swollen from yesterday, but you knew you had to get up. The robot would carry you out if you didn’t.

The robot started forward as you were taking too long. “I’m fine, give me a moment,” you snapped, getting to your feet. The baby somersaulted in your belly. “Stop it, honey. You’re making Mommy sick again.” You rubbed your belly and waddled out the door. The robot followed closely behind.

You didn’t bother to try to look around for someone to plead your case to anymore. The last person you saw was Barry, and he avoided you with a guilty expression on his face. It make you feel slightly satisfied that he felt wrong about you being kept as a prisoner.

Finally, you reached the garden. The robot hovered by the door while you wandered out of sight. You took a deep breath, loving the smell of soil. You never thought you would miss dirt, but you did.

Wandering around until your feet hurt, you sat down on the bench to rest. The baby kicked you. You chuckled, rubbing your belly with love and wishing Hal could be here.

A few minutes passed with you soaking up the artificial sun before a large boom echoed from somewhere else in the fortress. You perked up, but then relaxed. It could be Superman throwing things or sparing with Wonder Woman or...well, you weren’t sure. You had never heard a boom like that before.

Suddenly, the robot’s head went flying past. It crashed into the far wall. You jumped in surprise. Hope sparked in your heart as you pushed yourself to your feet.

“(Y/N)?” Hal gasped, appearing around corner of the path. In his Yellow Lantern suit, you almost didn’t recognize him until he took off his mask and you could see his eyes. He paused, hovering to drink in the sight of you. You studied him the same way. He looked so much older. You could have sworn there was a touch of gray in his hair.

“Hal?” Tears filled your eyes as you opened your arms. He flew to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His stomach pressing as close to your baby belly as he could.

“You and the baby are safe?” he whispered, kissing you deeply. You melted into him. Your knees gave out, but he held you to him.

“Yes, we’re fine.” Panting, you pulled away with a hand running through his hair. “What is this about? Did you...?”

Hal smiled. “No, but in two minutes, Batman is coming. We’ll pretend to fight. He’ll win and you’ll go with him.”

You blinked. “What?” A shiver ran down your spine. “Wait, you won’t come too?”

His face fell slightly. He knelt down and pressed his ear against your belly. “No, I won’t. I have to stay here. Superman can’t think I betrayed him, or he’ll kill you and our baby.”

The baby kicked. Hal smiled up at you, feeling it against his cheek. “But...I can’t do this without you.” A sob escaped your lips as you kept running your fingers through Hal’s hair. “You won’t get to see our baby.”

“No, but I’ll know you’re both safe with Batman and that’s what matters.” Hal kissed your belly before slowly getting to his feet. He kissed your lips desperately. “It won’t be forever.”

“But...” Your heart skipped a beat when a bat shadow suddenly appeared behind Hal. “No.” You threw yourself around Hal to protect him. “Don’t hurt him.”

“It won’t hurt him, (Y/N), but we have to make it look good,” Batman said, stepping into the light. He had stubble on his chin, something you never remembered seeing on him. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

Hal turned you to face him. “Baby, please. Don’t do this.” He kissed you hard before pulling away to look you in the eye. “Protect our baby for me.”

The tears fell freely down your cheeks. You took a shaky breath as your heart broke with the knowledge you would have to leave him. The baby kicked you. You laid a hand on your belly. “You’ll come back to us.”

“I will.” Hal smiled and stepped around you. “Let’s go, Bruce.” He cracked his knuckles before flying at Batman. You stumbled back, watching the fight in horror. Feeling sick, you sank down onto the bench and hid your face in your hands.

The sounds of the fight echoed in your ears. You covered your ears to block it. Before you knew it, a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet. You gasped, looking into Batman’s masked face. Your eyes slid over to Hal’s unconscious body on the ground. “Let me go to him,” you whispered.

“No, we have to go now.” Batman pulled you along. Suddenly, he wrapped his cape around you as the roof was blasted in. Rumble and dust fell on both of you, but the cape protected you. The hum of the plane above echoed through the room.

“But...” You threw the cape off and turned back to Hal. Batman grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. A chill ran down your spine as you remembered Superman had grabbed your chin the same way.

“Don’t let his sacrifice be for nothing.” Batman looked you in the eye. His lips pursed. “We don’t have time.”

You swallowed hard, stepping away from Batman. Studying Hal for long enough to see his chest rise and fall, you sighed. “Okay.” Your heart broke. Batman pulled you to him and wrapped his arm around your waist securely.

“Hold on,” he warned. You threw your arms around his neck when he suddenly shot his grapple gun up to the plane above. Your feet left the ground a second later. A little scream escaped you. Your baby kicked wildly. Batman smirked.

Once your feet touched the floor of the plane, you slapped Batman’s arm. “You could have warned me,” you hissed. Your stomach flip flopped dangerously.

Batman snorted, pulling you along to a seat and buckling you in. “If anything happens, go to the back of the plane and used the escape pod,” he said sternly. “Otherwise, sit tight.” He smirked again when he pulled out a barf bag.

You glared at him as you took it. He went to the cockpit, leaving you alone. The plane hummed, vibrating as it flew to somewhere safe. You closed your eyes, relaxing for the first time in a long time. The only thing missing was Hal. Everything in you wanted him to be here with you, but you knew he couldn’t. The baby kicked you again. Tears filled your eyes, hoping beyond hopes that Hal will be alive to see his child for the first time.

***

It took five long years before you heard Superman’s regime had fallen. You were in your garden, weeding on your hands and knees when your son came running up the path. He shouted the news excitedly.

“Are you sure?” You brushed your hands on your jeans and got to your feet.

“Yeah, that’s what Dr. Thompkins said.” Your son bounced on his toes. “She said she heard it on the special radio.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “The special radio,” you whispered. “That hasn’t turned on in a long time.”

The tiny village you had lived in for the past five years was off-the-grid. It was hidden in a tiny corner of the world. Even the people who lived there didn’t know where the village was in case anyone were to be captured by the Regime. There were some random supply drops, but almost everything that was needed was produced by the village itself. The only news came from the radio Dr. Thompkins had. She was an old friend of Batman’s, thus the one he trusted with the radio.

“She wants you to come.” Your son grabbed your hand, ignoring the dirt on it. “Come on.” He started to pull you down the path. You laughed, still in slight shock.

“I’m coming.” You felt like you were floating on air. Finally, the day had come just like Hal said. He could meet his son for the first time, and you could kiss him again. You missed Hal so much your body ached. However, ice cold fear washed over you when you realized there was a chance Hal might not have survived.

Your son didn’t notice the smile drop from your face as he pulled you along the path to Dr. Thompkins’ home and clinic. The others were already gathering around the radio in the living room. Your son let go of your hand to go see his friends. “(Y/N),” Dr. Thompkins whispered, appearing at your side. “Honey, sit down before you fall down.” She pushed you into a seat.

“Do you know...if Hal is alive?” Your chest tightened. The breath squeezed out of your lungs.

She patted your arm. “No, but no news is good news.” You looked into her gentle, kind eyes. The same eyes you looked into when you were giving birth to your son. You didn’t know what you would have done without her. She glanced around before whispering in your ear. “Shazam is dead. Superman killed him.”

“Billy?” Horror chilled your blood. “He was only a kid.”

Dr. Thompkins nodded with a frown. “What’s wrong?” your son asked, appearing in front of you with a frown.

“Go get your mother something to drink,” Dr. Thompkins told him. Your son ran to the kitchen. “(Y/N), try to calm down for your son. You can’t get all worked up if you don’t know.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “You’re right.”

“Here you go, Mommy,” your son said, coming back with a cup of water. You smiled at him, taking it and pulling him onto your lap.

“Thank you, baby.” You kissed his cheek. Dr. Thompkins left to go talk to someone else. You tightened your arms around your son as the radio spoke of an alternative universe.

Time past as more reports came from the radio. You held your son, fearing the moment when the deaths would be read. Sipping the water, you tried to think about anything else.

Eventually, the reports stopped and Dr. Thompkins told everyone to go home. She stopped you before you could leave. Your son ran ahead. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything about Hal.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” your son called, halfway down the path home.

“Well, that’s my que.” You laughed, jogging to catch your son. He screamed and raced away. “Come back here.” The chase went all the way home until your son was inside the house. You had to lean against the doorway to catch your breath. Your son ran out the back door to get wood for the stove.

Slowly, you pulled away from the door frame and moved to start dinner. You filled a pot with water. A scream from the back door made the pot drop from your hands and crash onto the floor. The water splashed, soaking you. You ignored it and ran to the door. Your son jumped into your arms, shaking in terror.

“Mommy, there’s a flying man,” he cried, hiding his face in your shoulder. Your heart stopped.

“What?” You peeked outside to see a green glowing man land in the yard. His face hidden by the shadows of the setting sun. “Hal?”

“(Y/N).” Hal’s voice answered as he stepped toward you, so you could clearly see his face. He looked like he had aged twenty years. His hair was more gray than brown.

“Hal.” You ran to him, forgetting your scared son in your arms.

“Mommy, he’s a flying stranger,” your son screamed. You ignored him, throwing both of you into Hal’s arms. Hal hugged you close. Your son was smashed between the two of you.

Tears ran down your cheeks. “It’s been so long,” you cried, kissing Hal hard on the lips.

“I know.” Hal kissed you back eagerly.

“Mommy.” Your son wiggled out between you and Hal. “Who is this flying man? Why are you kissing?” He wrinkled his nose.

Hal pulled away from you to look down at your son. He sank to his knees, drinking in his son’s eyes that were a copy of his.

“Remember when I told you that your daddy was a brave man fighting to keep us safe,” you said, kneeling down beside Hal. Your son eyed Hal nervously.

“Yes?” Your son glanced at you before looking back at Hal.

“Well, this is your daddy. He can come to us because Superman is gone.” You kissed your son’s head. A big smile grew upon your lips when you saw the pride in Hal’s eyes.

Your son’s jaw dropped in shock. “Daddy?” He scrutinized Hal and wrinkled his nose again. “Why are you so old?”

Hal laughed deeply. You sensed it was probably the first time he laughed in a long time. “Well, I’ve lived a lot longer than you have, buddy.” He ruffled your son’s hair.

Your son smiled shyly before looking at you. “Mommy, can we make dinner now?”

“He’s always hungry,” you told Hal, getting to your feet. You offered a hand to Hal. He took it, squeezing your hand hard.

“I love you.” He kissed your palm.

Rubbing your thumb against his lips, you laughed. “I love you too.” His green ring glowed on his hand as he used it to help himself to his feet. “And you’re green again?” You frowned slightly when you noticed he didn’t put his full weight on his left leg.

“Yeah, long story.” Hal kissed your cheek.

“Can we eat please?” Your son cried from the house.

Both of you chuckled, sharing one long kiss before entering the house. A family at last.

#hal jordan #hal jordan x reader #hal jordan imagine #green lantern #green lantern x reader #green lantern imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #injustice #injustice imagines #pregnancy warning #pregnancy

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bert-thefrog · 5 years

Text

The Promise: Rafael Aveiro

Songs: The Script - ‘Superheroes’ and JNR Williams - “Keep Your Head Child’

“Babe?” There’s a gentle shaking of my shoulders and I blearily open my eyes to Rafael standing over me, already in his uniform. “What time is it?” I groan, rubbing my eyes to try and rid them of the dry, scratchy feeling of sleep. The room is almost pitch black, the darkness broken only by the sliver of light sneaking in under the door. “It’s two in the morning, I just got called into work and I wanted to tell you before I left.”

“Oh okay, stay safe, I love you.” I wrap my arms around his neck in a clumsy hug, kissing his cheek before he heads out the door to go be Superman. “I love you too.” He blows a kiss from the doorway before shutting it quietly behind him. Lying back under the warm covers I listen as the thump of his boots gets fainter the further downstairs he goes.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When we first got married, I was terrified every time he left for work like this; that this would be the last time. This would be the time he didn’t come home. I’d known what his superhero tendencies were like, long before he put a ring on it; but now our lives were tied together, both through our marriage and our child and that only intensified the fear that I may lose a part of me forever one day- and I never knew when. I used to make him promise me, every time he left that he’d come back, and he did; he always came home, leaving his boots tidily by the door for the next time he’d need them. Coming home safely every time until slowly the fear that gripped my chest in an ice cold fist began to loosen, until I stopped making him promise, realizing that this was the one thing he couldn’t ensure.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hey sleepy head.” I exit the warm cocoon of my duvet to wake up our two year old daughter a few hours later, so I can drop her off at daycare before work. “Where’s daddy?” She whines, scrunching her face at the light pouring in through the open window. “He’s at work, don’t worry baby girl, he’ll be home soon.” I kiss her head as she nestles into the crook of my neck. I hope he’s still at the hospital when I get there though, I’d like to see him before he comes home to crash. I think to myself. As I’m wrestling a cranky, squirming three-year-old into today’s outfit, the phone downstairs begins ringing shrilly. “Aw man. Just a minute Mia.” I promise, running downstairs just as the phone stops ringing. Damnit. Almost as soon as it stops though it starts again, ringing incessantly until I take it off the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Casey, is that you?”

“Jackie? What’s wrong?”

“Oh thank god, I’ve been trying to reach you on your cell but it’s switched off.” She babbles, tripping over her words in a mad panic. Jackie Varma does not babble. Something cold and hard settles in the pit of my stomach and I swallow.

“Jackie, what’s happened?”

“Oh god, Casey I’m so sorry-“

“Jackie, what’s happened?!”

“It’s Rafael. You need to get to Edenbrook now.”

“Oh god. What happened?” My voice cracks painfully as I hold back a sob.

“Please Casey, just get here as soon as you can.” Jackie hangs up and for a split second I freeze, swaying slightly to the dial tone as realization sinks in.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Where is he?” I scream at Bryce, seeing him the moment I fly through the doors to Edenbrook, almost like he’s been waiting for me. “We have him in a private room, I swear Case, I tried everything, but his organs are already failing. He’s in and out of consciousness, but he’s been asking for you.”

“Oh god.” I feel as though my knees are about to go out from under me. “Casey?” There’s a soft voice behind me and Sienna is there taking Mia from my arms, the pity shining from her warm brown eyes. “I’ll look after her. Go.” She nods at me and I follow Bryce away. “We’re keeping him as comfortable as we can in here until it happens.” Bryce’s voice sounds as though it’s coming from far away, like I’m underwater, drowning while everyone else remains on the surface. Not if it happens, until it happens.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Bryce steps aside to let me into the room. It’s nondescript. Plain walls painted cream, mundane painting of flowers on the wall and in the middle of it all, Rafael lies still, as though already dead, tucked into a hospital bed that hardly seems big enough to contain his tall frame; Dr. Ramsey and Emery look over him, faces creased and lined with worry. “We’ll give you two some space.” Harper murmurs, noticing me there and the pair exit, brushing my elbow in a show of comfort as they pass. Leaving me looking at my husband helplessly, my mouth dries up as I stare at his battered and bruised face, taking all the things I want to say with it. “Raf..” I whisper, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed and reaching out to entwine my fingers with his. “Hey.” He croaks, wincing as he squeezes my hand in response. “What happened?”

“I don’t even know, one minute I was getting the stretcher ready to remove a patient after the firefighters cleared us, the next I’m waking up in here- hey don’t cry.” He reaches out, hissing through his teeth slightly from exertion, as he wipes away a single tear from my cheek. “I brought Mia.”

“No. Casey.” He sighs.

“No?”

“I don’t want her to see me like this.”

“I didn’t much want to see you like this either.” I joke weakly and he smiles.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, shutting his eyes, absentmindedly stroking the base of his thumb across my knuckles.

“Why?”

“I broke our promise.”

“Raf no. I don’t know when, but at some point realised that I couldn’t keep getting you to make that promise, when we both know you had no way of ensuring you could keep it.” I choke back a sob, watching his chest rise and fall in shallow, rapid bursts. “I called your mom. She’s on her way Raf. Just hold on a little longer, please.” I beg.

“Make me a promise.” He groans, his eyes still shut.

“Anything.” I nod my head, pressing his hand to my lips fervently.

“Be happy. Move on. I don’t expect you to just walk out of here skipping and be okay straight away, but promise me you’ll keep going forward, be the best mom and doctor you can be, change peoples lives,” He coughs “Fall in love-“

“No-“ I whisper,

“Let me finish Casey. See the world like we planned. Live your life to the best of your ability and teach Mia to do the same. Because you have no idea how long you’ve got.” He’s wheezing by the end of his speech, ragged, rough breaths that rattle in the empty room. I’m crying freely now, tears dripping on the yellow waffle print spread over his legs one by one in rapid succession; a tiny rainstorm. “I love you.” I kiss each of his knuckles in turn as he watches me. All he can do is nod his head now, too spent to speak.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He held out long enough for his mom to get here, dying only as we both sat beside him, holding his hands and telling him it was ok to let go. “I’ll be the one to call it.” I promise Ethan as he hovers in the entrance, lips turned downwards, taking in the sorry sight before him. I wait, listening as Rafael’s breathing slows, the gaps between breaths growing wider until I can no longer hear them. Then I watch the monitor above Mrs. Aveiro’s head as the crooked lines signalling his heartbeat go flat. Keening loudly to signal the lack of a heartbeat. “Time of death: three minutes past eleven AM.” I call out to Ethan as Rafael’s mother howls, a gut wrenching sound that rips from her throat, punching me in the chest as I shakily make my way around the bed and allow her to collapse sobbing in my arms. I can’t cry though, instead I choke back red-eyed, tearless gasps; all my tears used up as I let reality sink in. I’ll keep our promise. I just need a little time love. I look over the older woman’s shaking head to where Raf lies, he looks peaceful now, asleep. Goodnight Superman. I mouth, supporting Mrs Aveiro as we stumble out of the room and into the corridor. The light out here seems harsher, brighter more painful to take in; as though I’ve just woken from a particularly long sleep. “Mommy? Avó?” Mia calls from the nurses station, where she plays with Danny and Sienna, perched on the pine counter and swinging her small, pudgy legs. Sienna and Danny are wordless, wearing identical expressions of concern. “Hey sweetie.” I paste on a smile, scooping her into my arms and holding her tight. “Where’s daddy?”

“I- I’ll tell you what, you and me are going to go get some ice cream yeah? Then we’ll go home and I will tell you a story.”

“About daddy?”

“Yeah. About daddy.” I agree, trembling as I try to piece together how I can explain to a three year old that their dad isn’t coming home. “Would you like to come?” I turn to Mrs. Aveiro, she presses her lips together resolutely and clutches my hand in affirmation. Mia reaches out, patting her Avó’s face serenely to try and rid the tears still rolling down weathered cheeks. “Let’s get going then.” I steel myself, walking down the corridor towards the elevator, pushing myself against the urge to run back to Rafael’s room and throw myself into the narrow hospital bed beside him and never let go. Because he’s not there anymore, he’s here. In my heart.

*DISCLAIMER- I do NOT own the art work used in this piece. Credit to @meindraws *

#rafael aveiro #choices #openheart #fanfic #stories you play #playchoices #rafael x mc #rafael x reader #open heart #pixelberry #love #bryce lahela #sienna trinh #dr ethan ramsey #openheart fanfic #jackie varma

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crewhonk · 6 years

Text

Safe House

AN: Y'all, this starts out super angsty but it does get super domestic and fluffy in the second half, I promise. This is also me being selfish and letting myself write a story with pups.

When a mission goes south, you make it a personal mission to make your boyfriend Bucky Barnes see the light at the end of the tunnel by taking him to your safe house.

words; 3505

Your hand reached across the granite countertop in the Avengers compound to reach your ringing phone that was ringing only a foot away. You shoved a mouthful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch into your mouth and shoved your recent mission reports away as you glance at who had been calling you.

Steve Rogers.

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you glanced over to the calendar taped to the fridge— Wanda, Bucky, and Steve weren’t due back for another three days from their mission, so as a result, your heartbeat picked up in anticipation. You slid your finger across the screen and were met with the sound of raspy breathing on the other line.

“Steve?” You asked, mouth still full with your breakfast. You and he had gotten close since you had joined, and had grown even closer since you had begun your relationship with Bucky— so formalities weren’t too much of a concern for you both.

“Y/N,” he began. His voice was laced with pain, and the effort of which he spoke sent chills run down your spine. “The mission didn’t go to plan, and we’re on our way home. I’m just calling you to tell you—“ His voice cut off as if he was looking around him for anyone that could be listening.

“To tell you that Bucky is going to be blaming himself for this one. I don’t want to tell you what happened over the phone, but we found some things out that could mean bigger things for us.” Your eyelids fluttered closed and your fingers came to rest delicately on your forehead. You welcomed their cold touch as they calmed your suddenly feverish skin.

“Get home soon, Stevie. I’ll be here for him.”

It was another day before the party was home, and the hours in waiting passed so slow it was almost painful. You tried to busy yourself with spending time in the lab and face timing an old professor to discuss new outfit designs. You tried to busy yourself in the gym with Natasha and posing yourself harder than you had before. When the treadmill under your feet seemed to cling to the bottom of your favorite sneakers and throw you off, Nat had run up to you and told you to go take some time for yourself in your apartment. So, you busied yourself with meal prep and cleaning and organizing your bookshelf full of your university textbooks alphabetically. You almost sighed with relief when FRIDAY announced the arrival of the party and you rushed across the compound to the arrival dock, waiting with bated breath.

First, Wanda came out looking vaguely shaken, but alive nonetheless with someone who looked vaguely familiar in tow— you would find out later that it was the General of the Dora Milaje, Okoye and a more familiar face T’Challa. You bowed your head in greeting and hugged Wanda tenderly in greeting. She let a sharp breath of pain when you put pressure on her ribs and she was quickly winked off to the medical bay.

Steve followed with Bucky under his arm in some form of comfort. There was a large gash on Steve’s face parallel to his beard line and your heart broke when you noticed both men stepping gingerly and favoring one leg over the other. You nodded at Steve when he got close enough to you, and you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s waist in greeting. His own arms didn’t wrap around you, and you sighed in sorrow. He always denied himself of your touch whenever he was hurting and you guided him through the halls towards his own compound apartment. You knew he would be more comfortable in his own surroundings, and when you got to his door, he slumped against the wall as your hands fished through his pockets for his key card.

“Darling, please look at me.” You whispered once you had found it and pressed it to the identification keypad. The door opened and you pulled him in, not turning away from him, but holding both hands in your own gently. When he had managed to unlatch his gaze from some spot behind you to look down at you, you felt a lump rise in your throat. His eyes were filled with unshed tears and anger at himself. Your hand came to rest on his scruffy cheeks and you swiped your thumbs underneath his eyes, smoothing the bags that had swollen under his eyes and providing some sort of temporary relief against the pressure he felt in his face. Still, his hands rested at his sides, and you leaned up to press your lips against his softly not expecting him to move against you but nevertheless providing him with the love and comfort you knew he deserved.

You undid all of the belts and buckles that kept his suit where it was supposed to be and pulled his jacket off, revealing bruises and scrapes that had managed to get past the vibranium sewn material. You hadn’t known that there was a weapon in existence that could tear through the material, so when you saw those scrapes you knew that the mission had truly gone south. You moved to his zipper, next and your hands ghosted the line below his navel in a way that would often make him gasp. He had yet to break eye contact with you, and when he let a few tears trace the lines of guilt on his face, you kissed them away softly.

You pushed his pants down and instructed him to kick them off of his ankles and he did so slowly— making sure he favored his right leg which sported a huge bruise that dominated the lower portion of his thigh and turned his knee a putrid green color.

“Oh, my love.” You whispered, tracing your hands over every scratch and bruise and watching them melt away under your touch. He sighed in relief and when you hugged him close, he let out one sob into the crook of your neck. You pulled him to the bed in the middle of the room and collapsed on it pulling him with you and settling him between your legs. You pulled the sheets over you both, and he nuzzled his face into the fabric of your sweater to take in your comforting scent and to feel your human heartbeat against his ear.

Bucky fell asleep within seconds with tear tracks staining his face.

The next morning, you woke up with the weight of a super soldier on your chest. His arms had circled around your waist, and he held you close to him in his sleep in a grip that could have been bruising if you didn’t have the regeneration skills you did.

Without opening your eyes, your arms circled around him and began tracing the sinewy muscles of his back. At your featherlight touch, he began to stir and purr in reaction to your touch on his naked skin. He loved the moments after waking up with you that made him feel untouchable by the world. The only things that mattered in those moments were your touch and your warmth and the softness of the white sheets that cocooned you in a safe bubble that was impenetrable by the rest of the world.

Soon, however, the events of yesterday washed over his foggy mind and he groaned against the skin of your neck. He had managed to pull your sweater neckline far enough to the side where he was able to rest his soft lips and nose against the softness of your skin right over your pulse.

“Good morning, Baby.” You hummed as you began to feel him stir. He only grunted against you and let his arms circle tighter around your waist, making you gasp in protest.

“Okay, Superman.” You huffed, arching your back into him to try to make some room for your lungs to expand. “Time to get up, I have some plans for us today.” He whimpered at your news and rolled over so that you rested on him.

“No.” He grunted— the first word he had spoken to you in a whole week. You wriggled in his grasp and you heard his metal hand whir against your skin as his fingertips pressed into your skin in protest. Realizing you would have to actually use your powers against him, you sighed and kissed him softly on the mouth before using your super strength to free yourself.

When you got up from the bed you turned to see him reaching for you pathetically. He made a noise of discontent in the back of his throat and you rolled your eyes. This move had worked on you countless times before, but since you knew this was a way he used you to hide from the world you built up an immediate immunity against his blue puppy-dog eyes.

“No, James. You don’t get to hide from the world when things don’t go to plan. Get ready, I’m leaving with you in ten minutes no matter how you look.” You said, walking out of his room without looking back and closing the door while he let out a loud and exhausted groan.

He came out to the kitchen soon after dressed in blue track pants and a black hoodie with his long hair tied into a bun at the base of his neck. You had been chatting idly with Wanda and Okoye— discussing the mission that had gone so sour without truly paying attention. You had been too busy healing Wanda’s ribs to pay much attention to anything else, but when Bucky walked in, your concentration faltered. He had never failed to be the center of your attention since the day you had met.

You pulled away from Wanda, leaving her with a dull ache rather than unmovable pain and asked over to your beautiful yet tired looking boyfriend. As you got close enough to see the look in his eyes the tightness in your chest eased a little when you only saw a dull sadness rather than fiery guilt. You walked into his warm embrace and kissed him feverishly on the mouth, ignoring the groans from Tony and Clint at your public affection.

“We’re going out for a few hours, we’ll see you later.” You said over your shoulder as you lead him to the parking garage and over to your humble 1998 Subaru. He climbed in the passenger side and waited for you to start the car before he opened his mouth.

“I can’t do anything public today, babe. Please.” His voice sounded broken, and you looked over at him and smiled softly. You shifted the gears of the standard car as you left the parking lot.

“We’re just going to my parent's house for dinner. No biggie.” You said, pulling the shift stick closer to you and watching his face relax. He had met your parents a few months ago, and you both tried to get back to your childhood home as often as you could just to escape from the life of a superhero for a few hours. Your parents were cautious about him at first, as any protective parents would be, but once they both saw the way Bucky seemed to treat you the same way a sunflower treated the sun they accepted him into their lives with open arms.

The drive was spent talking about anything that came to mind; from the unrelenting snow that had plagued New York for the first few weeks of spring to the recent instalment of the Star Wars franchise (Bucky had decided he liked the second movie of the prequels the most, not because it was good by any stretch of the imagination, but because he thought Natalie Portman looked really good in the white outfit). It wasn’t too long until you pulled into the cookie cutter suburb home that you had grown up in and clambered out of the car, walking up the recently shoveled pathway and knocking softly on the door. Your knock was almost immediately responded with various tones of barks and the voice of your father trying to get his way through the mass of dogs you knew would be on the other side.

When he opened the door, you and Bucky were almost immediately ambushed by five dogs. Lucy, the largest and Bucky’s personal favorite bounded forward and jumped on him— she was tall enough to reach his face and drowned him in her Newfoundland dog drool. The skinniest one, a greyhound mutt named Worm wiggled at Bucky’s feet in pure excitement. You smiled as you own pup, a golden retriever-pit bull mix sat at your feet and bunny hopped towards you in excitement. You bent down and he curled into your open legs, smiling up at you with his wide mouth.

“Sid, oh my love. I missed you.” You crooned into his fur and his thin tail wagged harder against your thigh making you wince as it hit you faster than a bullet. “Jesus, man. You’re gonna break your tail one day if you don’t calm down.” You smile as he only wiggles more at the joy in your voice.

“Well, if it isn’t the White Wolf and Poder Rojo herself?” Your dad smiled down at you where you crouched and you smiled back at him, showing off the matching smiles and crows feet. You were young, but you had inherited your father's smile lines at a young age. You got up and hugged your father tightly, and smiled softly as you watched him and Bucky shake hands fondly.

Your mother soon joined you, another two dogs at her heels. You noticed they both had matching cones, and after asking she had replied that there was a rather unfortunate run-in with a certain porcupine. They had to have surgery to get the needles out, and since they kept trying to clean themselves of the ointment that had to be applied, your mother had shoved them into the Cones of Shame.

You pulled Bucky into your home and took seats at the dinner table to watch your mother butter around as dinner cooked in the oven. You had called ahead of time, of course, and when she heard that Bucky wasn’t having the best time she promised to pull out all of the stops. She had made her famous lasagna, and even baked fresh bread to go with it— the smell of the warm bread made Bucky’s stomach rumble softly and you smiled over at him as you heard it. A faint blush dusted his cheeks as you heard and you winked playfully, doing everything in your power to make the blush more intense. You leaned over the table and kissed him noisily on the cheek before running around the island to help your mother with the cleanup.

When she was sure that Buck was fully distracted by your father, she turned to you and handed you a dry cloth to wipe the crumbs from the counter around the toaster.

“Is he okay?” She whispered. You looked over at him, and seemingly noticing the action he made eye contact with you and the corners of his lips turned up slightly. You turned back to your mum.

“There was a mission that went south recently, and I just figured that he needed to get away from the compound for a minute.” You replied, leaning against the counter and watching her check the temperature of the food.

“You guys are really good for each other, you know.” She smiled at you.

You looked over again and dropped your eyes into a wink when Bucky once again looked over at you. “I know.”

Supper came an went with minimal issues (“Y/N, stop feeding Churro your food please.” “I’m not the only one doing it!” “Babe, you cant rat me out like that to your parents!”), and soon you and Bucky stood side by side over the sink. You were washing the plates and other dishes from dinner, and you handed them to Bucky who dried them. It was a quiet affair, and you hummed softly to yourself as Bucky leaned into you subconsciously, his metal arm whirring softly as he brushed the dishes gently with an old dish rag. You scooped a handful of bubbles and placed it on his cheek and he laughed loudly— the homemade food making his stomach warm and shoulders relax— before leaning down and rubbing his face against yours. Soon, you were in a full-blown bubble and water war, and you swore to ever God that was out there that his laugh was the best sound in the world.

You squealed when you slipped on a patch of water and bubbles and you didn’t even have time to think about hitting the ground before Bucky’s strong arms wrapped around you securely. He was holding you in a dipping position and he leaned down to kiss you softly before swinging you up to sit on the faux granite countertop. You watched as your boyfriend began cleaning up the mess you had both made and took note of the way the wet spots on his white undershirt became slightly see-through, making the scars on his body apparent. You felt an element of warmth pool in your tummy, as you had always found his damaged body to be rough and attractive, and you knew that he knew you felt this way— you had shown him multiple times.

You hadn’t realized you were staring until his hands came to rest on your knees, and pushed them apart far enough for him to step between them. You blinked rapidly, and his now warm blue eyes looked up at you.

“Your mom’s right, you know.” He mumbled, kissing your collarbone lightly. You sighed contently and angled your head to expose more space of your neck for his lips to find a home. You hummed as his lips trailed over your throat and he kissed your chin before pulling away slightly.

“What d’you mean?” You slurred, your voice slow and heavy with affection.

“You’re good for me. I would have stayed in my room for the rest of the week if it weren’t for you.” He nuzzled his nose into the warmth of your neck and you hummed happily. Your hands came to wrap around his neck and tangle in his hair at the base of his neck gently. He let out a breathy laugh when Lucy leaned against the back of his legs and pushed him closer to you. You laughed and looked at him to stare down at the large dog who looked as if she was smiling up at you.

“Well, Mr. Barnes. You make me want to be better for you.” You hummed and scraped your nails against his scalp, eliciting a delicious groan from his throat.

“I love you, Doll.” He whispered, lips brushing your neck and making your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“I love you so much more, James.”

“If you two are done making out on our counter, there’s a Star Wars marathon on Space TV if you want to join us.” Your dad piped up from the entryway. You and Bucky jumped away from each other and blushed heavily. Bucky coughed into his elbow nervously and looked down at his toes, too embarrassed to look your father in the face. You, however, ignored the hot blush on your cheeks and glared at your dad.

“We were having a moment, father dearest.” You grunted over at him and he laughed in response, pointing a finger at you.

“I don’t care. Also, get off the counter— counters are for glasses not asses.” He said over his shoulder as he left to join your mom once again in the living room.

“Good one, dad! Where’d you get that one? The back of a cereal box?” You yelled at him and laughed when you saw his hand pop from around the corner to give you the middle finger. Bucky laughed when he saw it and held his hand out to you. You reached out to grip his metal on your own and hopped off the counter, pulling him close to you and snuggling into the warmth of his embrace.

“Let’s go watch Star Wars with your parents for the 65th time.” His chest rumbled against your ear as he spoke and you let out an amused breath from your nose before kissing his lips softly.

“I love you, Buck.”

“I love you, Bear.”

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dannyphantom-justiceleauge · 6 years

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If Danny and Jazz were related to anyone on the justice league who would it be? Also what would it be like for said family members coming to town and visiting the Fenton's not only to find out the phantom is their family but that his own parents want to murder him would the family member sue for custody of Danny and Jazz just to get the both of them away from Jack and Maddie and would Vald mind his own dame business and not help Jack and Maddie with the money to counter sue

i’m fond of the batman is a secret distant cousin thing, mostly because it involves mocking Vlad with the i’m closer to Danny than you, and the general rich guy cattiness at parties and stuff. i imagine that as a kid the Fentons were the cousins his parents said stay away from because they’re uncouth nutters (jokes on them, their son is a bat furry) and when Bruce got older he sought them out and felt... yeah, crazy... but charming? and their technology works? oh shit ghosts are real, better fond this.

later when he finds out Danny is his nephew and also a young superhero. his level on the ‘to be adopted list’ is moved up significantly. he definitely takes in Dani at this point too. Danny doesn’t realize that his uncle is batman for a significant amount of time from when batman figured it out. he could in theory sue for custody of Danny and Jazz but he respects there own desires and needs more. they’re established themselves as capable of taking care of themselves. he’s noticed that Jack and Maddie, for all their faults, do really love their children and aren’t knowingly attacking their son. he’s looking for other solutions before forcefully separating this family. a line has to be crossed before he makes the jump.

but yeah, that’s kinda an over used one.

the second guy my brain jumped to was doctor strange, even though that’s marvel. mostly because i feel like that would be the weirdest thing. like this guy, spent all this time meditating and onlocking his magic powers. isn’t he special? to find out at a family reunion that his cousin have been unlocking the secrets of life and death like it was nothing and one of their children is a legendary monster hybrid. like this has just been happening this whole time, in his own family, and he had no clue. what does he do with this information (i haven’t really read doctor strange, or seen the movie because it’s not epilepsy friendly, so others will know how he reacts better than me)

i think Kent's being related to Maddie has a certain logic to it and would be so awkward that it would be entertaining. like imagine that dinner, ‘we’ve invited may sisters’ and there family over’. Clark: “oh, hey Danny...” Danny, “hey sup-Clark.” like where i could see Danny being dense about Bruce Wayne being batman. Danny and superman will definitely recognize each other when they meet (unless you want to play the Danny is as dense as jack card which could be fun), superman would just be like, i know this abnormally slow heartbeat and Danny would be like ‘you’re not even wearing a mask. like glasses? that’s supposed to fool us? at least my secret identity has the excuse of being dead.”

with realizing Danny's parents are negligent, him trying to do the right thing and adopting Danny and jazz is a lot more likely. but Danny would be a lot more inclined to fight him on this. possibly with blackmail. Danny would feel guilty because Clark is doing this in earnest, but Danny doesn’t want to be separated from his family. there is also the matter that superman is probably not ready to be a father to two teenagers. he’s already barely there for his own son, he’s basically putting the work of parenthood on Louis, and i don’t think that’s fair to her. she’d still do it, because she has the morals to protect these kids too. but it’s still a big decision that would shake up all there lives.

finally, and this isn’t a secretly related, lets adopt Danny thing. i feel like Danny would adopt martian man hunter into the family. i feel like a good running joke is just Danny adding to the lie of, ‘hey mom and dad, remember Cousin Dani?’ ‘Cousin Conner?’ ‘Uncle Clark?’ ‘great cousin John?’ it’s getting progressively more ridiculous and Jack and Maddie still keep falling for it. jack will probably even go “Johny! you’ve certainly grown from the little thing you were before! i thought you were dead! you aren’t a ghost are you?” part of Danny adopting an alien thing is just because, who wouldn’t adopt an alien, especially this space nerd.but it also gives john something of a human family and more earthly ties.

it also leads me to the best one. which is, all these guys are related. they’re all already a family via the league. but some family reunion, where Danny is obligated to invite the family members that he’d lied about, and then it’s reveal that hey... the entire league are all kinda distantly related...awkwardness and chaos ensues. because every where you turn there’s gonna be “Phantom!?” “Aquaman!?” “Aquaman?” “Hawkwoman!?” and then the normal family members or just like “???” there will just be this silent agreement that they all need to lie their asses off until they get back to headquarters. and the lies aren’t matching up, but no one is drawing the right conclusions. and like no one knows which heroes are here and who they are, and there’s a lot of confusion and people keep getting surprised by the realization that some other league member is a family member. part of this might even be, other members of the league making up similar lies to Danny's lie.

it’s just disastrous in the best way. -Hestia

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platypus-quacks-too · 7 years

Text

First of all, thank you so much to everyone answering to my post. Of course ‘Part 2′ won (you naughty guys! lol) but I have been pleasantly surprised to hear from a few of you about Roommates Redundance. I promise you guys chapter 3 will be posted soon. This said, I leave you to the story. You can read part 1 here and yes, rating has increased. Enjoy!

They don’t move immediately. Sheldon keeps staring at her, still on top of her, their faces a few inches apart.

Amy bites her bottom lip, “I thought we were moving in the other room. Or you want to stay here on the couch?” She teases him.

Sheldon holds a moment more before finally lifting from her body, and she suspects he may have considered it for real. Anyway, now Sheldon stands, and offers her a hand, “Shall we?”

Amy takes his hand and gets up as well. He smiles back, then turns to lead her to the bedroom. He only lets go of her once they are there and closes the door.

When he first entered the room earlier today, he had spent much of his time complaining about the poor furniture quality and especially of how uncomfortable the bed seemed. Amy looks at him and feels a shiver down her spine; he’s definitely not concerned with the room anymore.

She stretches to reach the zip of her dress on her back, and immediately Sheldon is in front of her, “May I?” He mutters.

Amy turns and moves her hair to give him better access to it. He carefully unzips it and, to her surprise, moves up to slip down the dress. Once it is on the floor, she steps out of it, and he picks it up to fold and place it on a nearby chair. She turns back and finds that he has returned to his place right behind her. He can’t resist and lowers to steal a quick kiss.

“It suits you,” she says then, starting to unbutton his shirt, “I didn’t think I would have thought that about a Superman garment.”

“Thank you. Maybe we could stop again at the comic book store before I leave?” Sheldon asks hopefully while taking it off.

“Sure,” Amy concedes. Meanwhile, he is already opening up the first buttons of her blouse to return the favor. She notices his hands hesitate as soon as he realizes she is not wearing anything but a bra beneath.

Once the blouse is off, she sits on the edge of the bed and takes her shoes off. Sheldon gets rid of the underneath tee, and Amy grins thinking of the irony of him wearing more layers than her. When she stops, she sees he is not proceeding further and is staring at her again. She swears Sheldon licks his lip before approaching the bed.

He kneels down in front of her for the second time today. Except he’s not showing any ring now, and Amy’s heart is racing for a very different reason.

“Can I help with these?” Sheldon offers. She enthusiastically nods and soon enjoys the sensation of his touch when he gets the hem of her tights. She lifts up enough to let him cautiously pull down. When he is done, their eyes met again, and she feels the urge to cup his face, lowering her torso to kiss him. They are much more eager than before and he deepens it right away, resting his hands over her exposed hips.

“Get under the covers, I’ll join you in a moment,” he requests when they detach.

Amy goes to one side of the bed, takes off her glasses, and slips into the bed. Sheldon tries his best to hurry in disposing of shoes and pants. He also thanks his own preparedness that allowed him to bury a condom in his wallet before he left for New Jersey. He leaves it on the nightstand and finally joins her.

“Hi,” she welcomes him between the sheets. Sheldon moves closer to her and caresses her cheek, “Hello,” he says back. They never formally established to do this, but ever since their first time they have always greeted each other in the same way once ready in bed for coitus. She especially likes that they did it even when their lovemaking has been more frantic.

He strokes her skin a moment longer, until their lips meet again. In no time, they find themselves in the same position they had left with on the couch. Well, a few things are different now: he doesn’t hesitate anymore as he gently squeezes her breast, and he definitely doesn’t mind that she can feel him grinding against her core. Amy enjoys all of this so much and holds him tightly. Truly, she can’t think of a better thing that Sheldon’s weight all over her, his hands roaming around, his mouth barely leaving hers.

Soon it’s clear there’s too much fabric in between their skin. She impatiently grabs the hem of his undershirt. He gets the hint and detaches just enough to let her pull it off. He’d love to fold it better, but he needs to surrender to the idea she’s about to just throw it somewhere. Luckily, she recaptures his attention as she lifts up on one arm and goes to unclasp her bra. Sheldon helps her to slip out of it, and they’re even when the bra lands on the floor.

As he welcomes her now-free nipples, teasing them, she returns her hands on his back. They go up and down it, until they rest on a few specific spots. There, she feels under her touch scratches that still haven’t healed completely. She grins recalling how she procured those to Sheldon. Their previous intercourse indeed had been a frenzied one.

He notices her grin and realizes where her hands are. “I should have asked you to file your nails first,” he mocks her.

Amy keeps brushing those signs, “I’d say I’m sorry, but really I’m not.”

He takes his lips back, catching her by surprise and leaving her temporarily breathless. “You don’t have to. They prove I was doing it right,” he says with some measure of pride.

She can’t answer back though, as he is already over her breasts again. This time, he catches one in his mouth, making her moan louder than before. He is soon teasing both her nipples, but overall he doesn’t spend too much time there. They both know they won’t resist any longer without fully feeling one another.

Sheldon looks back at her, waiting for her consent. She nods, and he promptly pulls her panties down, while she does the same with his briefs. They both kick those away, and he stands to retrieve his condom from the nightstand. Once he has done, he stands on his knees over her, and gently brushes her arm, “You are ready?” he asks softly.

Amy knows how he needs her verbal assent, “Yes,” she grants him with a smile. She spreads her legs to give him the space, and finally he lowers to enter her.

He captures her moan with a kiss and rests his forehead on hers, where it’s going to stay until the end of their lovemaking. Amy wraps her legs around him, and he starts thrusting slowly into her. For a while, he maintains a slow pace, and they occasionally exchange a kiss.

During this time, her hands have been in between his hair and on his neck, lazily brushing. Sheldon closes his eyes, and his movements seem to accelerate… until suddenly he speaks.

“I have been a fool,” he admits out of nowhere.

“W- what?” Amy can barely answer.

He reopens his eyes, “I’ve always known I wanted to be with you my whole life. I shouldn’t have waited until someone else kis-”

“Shh– don’t say that,” Amy interrupts him. “It’s ok. For real,” she adds, reading the bit of guilt still in him. “Forget about that.”

She really means it. Her anger and shock over that had disappeared quickly. She’s absolutely sure of Sheldon’s feelings for her, and whatever happened just worked fine to give him the courage to propose. In the end, he is here with her, loving her, ready to spend the rest of their lives together.

He nods and kisses her. She closes her eyes too now, and the pace returns steady. He thinks he may be able to carry on for a considerable time, but Amy begins to move with him. She places both her hands on his lower back to accompany his pushing and rubs her breasts against his chest. It doesn’t take much until they are both on the verge.

When it’s the moment, their eyes open again, and Sheldon anticipates her scream with another kiss. They moan silently into it once each reaches their peak.

He collapses over her, “Do you mind if we stay here a little longer?” he asks, burying his head in her breasts.

Amy holds him tighter. With one hand, again, she brushes his hair. “As long as you want.”

Sheldon lets himself listen to her racing heartbeat. She enjoys the smell of baby powder and sweat. They both want to think of many things, but they really can’t as long as they remain wrapped in their embrace. Nothing really matters but them, until they untie.

#the big bang theory #shamy #shamy fanfic #fanfictions #lu writes

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unpretty · 7 years

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I'm going through a real rough patch and if you want to write something cheerful you have no idea how grateful I'd be.

Flash sidled up to Superman on one of the Watchtower's mezzanines, leaning against a rail. They looked at each other sidelong, then away. "Wanna hear my new time?" Flash asked sideways, swaying as he alternated which foot held his weight, hands on his hips. "There's no way you beat my time," Superman muttered, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were in the other direction, and both men went silent as the Lanterns walked too close. Superman and Flash gave them a nod of acknowledgment, then waited for them to be at a safe distance."Nine seconds.""What!" Superman dropped his arms, whipped his head around to where Flash was grinning and bouncing on his heels. "No way.""*Flat*," Flash said."There's no way.""Check my heartbeat if you don't believe me," Flash said, tapping his insignia with his thumb. Then he frowned. "Actually, don't, I'm pretty excited about this so my pulse is probably crazy."His heart always sounded like an angry hummingbird trapped between his lungs, but Barry was also a notoriously terrible liar, so it wasn't as relevant as it could have been."*Dangit*," Superman said, crossing his arms again. He leaned back to scope out the area around them. No one seemed to be paying them much mind. "What time?""Eleven on a Saturday," Flash said, looking even more smug. "You know I don't mess around.""Tch!" Superman made an irritated sound, licking his canines. Then he snapped his fingers. "You forgot about–""Nnnope," Flash interrupted. "I'm including the new ones in that, that's the whole reason we had to reset our times, otherwise I'd still be at seven-point-four.""*Tch*." Superman drummed his fingers against his bicep. "*Nine seconds*," he repeated, torn between irritation and awe."You know what *that* means," Flash said, waggling his eyebrows.Superman sighed. "Alright, where are we going?""I want soup.""Uh-huh." Superman waited. Flash was waiting for him to ask. Superman was not going to give him the satisfaction."... in Saigon.""You've been watching Bourdain again," Superman accused."It looked like really good soup!" Flash said, defensive."Fine," Superman said, "but I *am* going to beat your time, and when I do–""Beat what, now?" Wonder Woman asked, having managed to approach them while they were distracted by negotiations."Nothing!" Flash and Superman said at once."We were just talking," Superman said."About stuff," Flash added unnecessarily. "Private, personal, man stuff."Wonder Woman's eyebrows shot up. She was close enough for her lariat to hum on her hip. She looked Flash over. Flash started to turn red. "Okay bye!" Flash said, and he was gone in a streak of red."Superman?" Wonder Woman asked."I should, uh. Hal..."He wasn't actually making any definitive statements, just stringing words together, and yet somehow it still managed to ring false. She watched him go, putting her hands on her hips.She could practically sense it when Batman came up beside her, even quiet as he was."Do you want to know what they were talking about.""Do you know?" she wondered. He said nothing, so she turned to look at his face. It was as expressionless as ever, but she got the impression that he did not consider the question worthy of dignifying with a response.He was Batman. He would never be so rude as to say 'of course' – but *of course* he knew."I wouldn't want to invade his privacy," Wonder Woman said cautiously."He'd tell you if you really asked," Batman said. "They just like feeling like they have a special thing.""Oh.""Flash, especially.""I see." She tapped on her lower lip as she watched Superman talk to one of the Green Lanterns. "So what's the special thing?""Pick me up in the plane on Saturday and I can show you."She froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him. As always, being able to see him helped not at all. "Like a *date*?" she asked.The corner of his mouth twitched. "More like a stakeout.""That could be like a date." She was mostly saying it to tease him. Sometimes if she did it right, he turned pink and had to find a shadow to hide in."It's usually not.""Why not?""I'm usually with the kids.""Oh!" Her eyes widened. "I didn't mean–""It's fine."She put her hand out to rest on his shoulder. "I would *never* imply–""I know."She took her hand back. "I'll behave," she assured him."You don't have to," he said, and she grinned."I'll pick you up at ten," she said, and she gave him an exaggerated wink as she walked away."It's a date," he murmured.***"*Why*," Wonder Woman asked, "are we in *Florida*?"Batman was sitting beside her, and the plane was in a low hover. "Because as far as anyone can tell, this is the single biggest and busiest Walmart in the world.""I don't think that explains as much as you think it does," she said.Batman held up a phone. A clock took up most of the screen. 10:59. "Watch," he said, and he pointed out to the parking lot, vast and terrifying and teeming with people. She watched, and she had no idea how she was supposed to see anything in the crowd.Finally, she spotted it. The motion too quick to be anything mortal. Would anyone on the ground notice anything more than a strong breeze?"Oh! It's the–" She snapped her fingers, couldn't remember the word."Carts," Batman supplied."Yes!"In almost no time at all, every cart in the parking lot had been returned to one of the designated corrals. Batman pointed to something that he must have been using technology in his mask to see, because otherwise his eyes should not have been good enough. Wonder Woman was much better equipped to see Superman, standing beneath a tree and checking a stopwatch and scowling. He did some kind of motion with his arms and one leg that suggested he'd have thrown his hat to the ground, if he'd been wearing one."They introduced new carts," Batman explained. "They don't fit with the other ones, so it slows them down. Ruined their whole system.""They had a *system?*" she asked, giggling."No, here," he said, tapping her arm to point again. "This is the best part. He's frustrated.""*That's* the best part?""Watch what he does."She watched. Superman was gone again, more impossible-to-follow motion through the crowd. Things were moving. Large things."He's fixing the cars!" she said, clapping her hands together."He's fixing bad parking jobs," Batman confirmed. "Because he's mad." There was a brief crooked curve to his mouth."He moved that one to a different space!""Illegally parked in a handicapped spot.""How *fun*." Wonder Woman watched the people wandering through the lot, wondered how many of them had noticed what was happening and how many had disregarded it as nothing worth noticing. "Flash is the winner of this contest, then?""Consistently.""Is there a prize?""Clark buys him lunch. Usually somewhere he saw on a food show, since he can't normally do that.""Why not?""Hm?""Barry can run anywhere, can't he?" she asked. "I see no reason he couldn't run to these places on his own.""He doesn't like being alone in foreign countries," Batman explained. "It makes him anxious.""Oh." She returned her gaze to the parking lot. "How nice, then, that it all works out." She frowned. "Is this weird?" she asked. "Spying on our friends like this.""I don't think I'm the right person to ask.""Do you do this often?" she wondered. "Watch people have fun without you?""Define 'often'."Wonder Woman held up a finger in warning. "Zatanna taught me a trick.""That doesn't sound good.""She says that if you ask me to define the parameters, it means the answer is bad."Before he could respond, there was a thump.Superman was standing on the nose of the invisible jet.He tapped a knuckle on the glass, until Diana opened the hatch. "Hello!" she said cheerfully."What are you two doing here?" Clark asked."We're on a date!" Diana said."We're not on a date," Batman said."If you're not on a date, can you give me a ride?""You're out of our way," Batman said."Nah, just drop me off in Gotham," Clark said, slipping inside the plane, awkwardly floating between the two front seats into the back."You don't even need a ride," Bruce said, having to fit himself as far as possible into the edge of his seat so that Clark would have room to get by. "You can fly.""Yeah, and you can walk, but I don't see you giving up the Batmobile." Clark made himself comfortable in the back seat as Diana closed up the plane. "I'm craving Dimitri's.""You're too sober for Dimitri's," Bruce said."I'm always sober. You're lucky I can tell this wasn't a real date, or I would be really creeped out by the whole *spying on me* thing.""Don't tell Barry we know about your special thing," Diana said, pulling the plane out of its hover to ascend. "I don't want to ruin it for him.""I won't," Clark assured her. "Hey, you know where we should go while we're here?""No," said Bruce."Where?" asked Diana."No," said Bruce."Disney World!""No."Diana gasped."No."Clark put a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "You can't have come all the way to Florida just to see me," he coaxed."I'm banned from Walmart, strongly discouraged from visiting Disney parks, and my parents are dead. I *have* no other reason to visit Florida."

#Anonymous #original #fanfic #sorrowful and immaculate hearts #greatest hits

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grammarkid · 7 years

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okay. fuck. so, i had to dig into the depths of my old blog to recover this, but here it is. that stupid fucking kara/diana one-shot i scribbled down after i saw batman v superman for the first time. it’s been collecting dust in my drafts for over a year. i totally planned to edit it and at least try to fix it before i posted it, because there’s literally no plot, and it doesn’t even have a title, but... there’s... literally nothing i can do with it. it’s beyond saving.

@featsanvers and @love-is-a-state-of-mind, look what you’ve made made do. are you both happy now??? i’m going to go jump off a cliff! :)

((hiding the garbage below the cut because i’m a coward!))

Kara surveys the room idly over the top of the glass of champagne she has only been pretending to drink. She’s long lost count of the number of shiny balding heads that catch the glare of the dazzling chandelier suspended overhead and has since moved on to examining the ladies, whose insubstantial gowns are split with such ridiculously deep necklines that they seem to defy Earth’s standard Newtonian principles of physics.

The sight is a bit more appealing, though she’s not quite sure exactly how Lady Such-and-Such is keeping that lace from slipping right off her –

“Shall I announce our presence formally or would you like to continue staring?”

Kara’s wandering eyes flick to the Amazonian goddess – emphasis on the ‘goddess’ part, because, Rao, she looks amazing in that red gown – approaching her.

“I’m not staring, I’m observing,” she replies. “Searching the crowd. You know, looking for the guy – the one we actually came to this ball to look for?”

“Yes, and you may as well be wearing a sign that says as much,” Diana replies smoothly. Her eyes sweep the room with a keen efficiency, but she tamps down an indulgent smile that Kara feels she’s not meant to see. “To be fair, they did warn me you weren’t subtle.”

Kara opens her mouth to protest the insult, but further incredulity steals her voice when Diana plucks the useless glass of champagne out of her hand and deposits it on the table next to them. She has just enough time to adjust her glasses indignantly, readying herself to protest that, too, when, true to Amazonian form, Diana moves in such a way that even Kryptonian reflexes are slow to follow, and Kara again finds herself silenced as her wrist is encircled by nimble fingers that are simultaneously delicate and powerful.

Heartbeats later – though Kara can’t even begin to explain how it happens – they are chest to chest in the very center of the sparsely-populated ballroom floor, and Diana is draping her arms over Kara’s shoulders as though it is the most natural thing in the world.

The first thing to cross Kara’s mind, as she cautiously allows her hands to settle on Diana’s waist, is that Diana is hot – in a physical, temperature kind of way, not, like, a visual kind of way, but… okay, maybe that, too. The second thing is that she really wishes that not blushing in the face of a pretty girl could be one of the many blessed Kryptonian immunities she possesses under Earth’s yellow sun, but, unfortunately…

(The third thing is that, gosh, she knows Diana’s only a few inches taller than her, but, in those heels, she seems to be towering over Kara now.)

Thankfully, Diana’s eyes are immediately trained on the faces around them, so Kara has a moment to gather herself before she speaks. She takes the time to breathe, to focus on the music, slowing her lungs and her thoughts until she can fall into rhythm with the cluster of violins and cellos crooning their soft, tremulous song in the corner of the ballroom.

“Enlighten me,” she says, when she finally finds her voice. (It is at a noticeably higher register than usual, but Diana doesn’t comment on it, thank Rao.) “How is…” She glances down between their bodies, eyeing a gap that could be closed by nothing more than a slightly deeper breath, and is barely able to refrain from doing so. “… this any less conspicuous than surveying the room from the punch table?”

Diana chuckles, and – well, there goes that gap. Rao, have mercy.

“Two beautiful women dancing close together in the middle of a horrendously conventional ball – what could be more inconspicuous?”

The crimson curve of her lips makes Kara feel faint, and she has to admit, a little breathlessly, “I’m… not following.”

“They’ll be so busy watching us,” Diana explains – slowly, patiently, playfully – “they won’t see us watching them.”

Kara huffs out a humorless laugh as Diana’s fingertips trace incomprehensible paths across the nape of her neck. She tries not to think too hard about the dancing part; as long as she keeps a faint track of the music winding around them, she’s able to follow along with it by instinct alone.

“Right,” she mumbles back after a moment, but it’s far too late to have any impact. “Good plan.”

She feels more than sees Diana smirking at her victory – and, in a moment of what she deems insanity, she decides that she can’t just roll over and show her belly because Diana caught her off guard. Kara Zor-El never gives up without a fight.

(Even if she’s probably going to lose. Badly.)

Using just a bit of her own Kryptonian flair, she reaches for and grasps Diana’s hand, using the contact to spin her away, into a brilliant twirl – a maneuver that elicits a tiny gasp that Diana cannot stifle before it reaches Kara’s overly sensitive ears. Kara grins, steps close as she reverses their hold. She embraces her from behind, while their hands, which are still locked together, settle now on Diana’s waist, draped over her hips.

“To be fair,” Kara whispers, echoing Diana’s earlier observation, “they did warn me you were good at this.”

As they dance, she glances out at the faces spinning around them, but it’s out of propriety more than anything. The ‘mission’ is the furthest thing from her mind. She’s too intently focused on the unbearable heat of Diana’s exposed back against her chest and the way it makes her heart race in pursuit of more.

“Did they?” Diana hums, following Kara’s rhythm without so much as faltering.

Kara, unfortunately, doesn’t have such luck. When Diana’s hips swivel back into her own, she wobbles a bit. Only for a second, just enough to be noticed – but she shakes it off, rallies quickly. “They did. In fact, they said you were the best.”

“They’re not wrong,” Diana murmurs back, turning to bare a knowing grin over the curve of her shoulder.

Then she turns sharply on her heel, using that same silken Amazonian fluidity that caught Kara off guard before, melting out of her grasp to reverse their stance again – but Kara is ready this time, and she parries Diana’s turn with a few steps of her own that lead them half way around the ballroom floor. It’s almost like sparring, in a way, their bodies dodging and weaving around one another, the flex and curve of muscle, a strength beyond human barely restrained, and – okay, it’s actually kind of embarrassing how excited Kara is right now.

For once, Diana appears mildly impressed. “You dance well.”

Kara smiles. “So do you.” Their steps ease, slow, and Kara draws her closer for a moment – just one selfish moment to bury her nose in her raven hair, thick and fragrant with rose oil – and whisper in her ear, “Tell me.” She spins Diana out into a low dip, following her down until their noses touch, and not at all trying to hide the way her eyes fall to those painted red lips so close to her own. “How did the most highly esteemed Amazonian warrior learn to tango?”

(The glint that lights Diana’s eyes seems to set fire to Kara’s oversensitive nerves, but she stays strong – she has to.)

“I have had over one hundred years to learn things you wouldn’t believe,” Diana murmurs, and if her lip grazes Kara’s because of the way she enunciates the final purring consonant sound, then – oh, she knows, she must know, she definitely knows, and, Rao, it’s deliberate.

Kara nearly loses her grasp, but she steels herself. Only Kryptonian-strength discipline keeps her from licking her lips to chase the taste of Diana’s lipstick away.

Finally, Kara lifts her, righting them with more elegance and poise than she feels she actually possesses. A retort is on the tip of her tongue – something coy and suggestive like, ‘It’s not hard to make a believer out of me,’ or maybe even something bolder like, ‘Feel free to give me a demonstration,’ to seal the deal – but Diana is quicker than she is to recover.

“And you?” she counters. “Where did the Girl of Steel learn the Canyengue?”

Funnily enough, Kara really doesn’t feel like she’s made of steel at all, because Diana slips into that accent – one so different from her own, but no less effective, and no doubt perfected through decades of observation and practice – and her knees actually go weak at the sound. She barely remembers that there was a question involved, but some part of her must have caught on, because, as Diana begins to take the lead, dancing to her own slow rhythm in a slow, lazy circle around her, Kara’s mumbling back her own answer.

“I’ve… spent the last twelve years on Earth learning everything I could about, um – about humans.”

Again, Diana chuckles, her fingertips trailing over Kara’s exposed shoulders as she passes behind her, and Kara doesn’t quite shiver at the touch, but her back straightens and her head lolls just a fraction to the side – and, to Diana, well, it may as well have been that grand of a surrender.

“Oh, Kara,” Diana chuckles, just beyond the edge of Kara’s peripheral vision, “there is so much to learn on Earth beyond the boundaries of what is human.”

Kara does shiver this time, because she knows, without asking, what Diana is alluding to.

“I haven’t forgotten,” she whispers back.

Finally, Diana takes her place directly in front of Kara once more. Her hand glides from Kara’s shoulder to the curve of her cheek, cupping it in her palm momentarily before her fingers are trailing downward, finding Kara’s jaw, tracing its shape, and then slipping away.

“There’s our man,” she says, a single dark brow jumping suggestively, before her eyes zero-in with clear intent on a figure out of Kara’s sight.

Without pause, Diana sidles away across the ballroom, and Kara is left standing, pleasantly warm, in the midst of a sea of tuxedoed benefactors who are torn between staring at her and the woman in the red dress who looks back over her shoulder to wink at Kara as she stalks away with a sway in her hips.

#seriously i have no idea what i was thinking when i wrote this #i just wanted an excuse for two beautiful ladies to flirt at a pretentious ball #and like i guess i did that but #this is so dumb i'm so sorry #everyone go blame @featsanvers and @love-is-a-state-of-mind #because i would've never ever ever ever ever ever ever posted this if it wasn't for them #jfc i guess i'll have to tag it #kara danvers/diana prince #supergirl/wonder woman #wonder woman #supergirl #kill me pls

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lenaluthorisgay · 7 years

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A concept: after some disaster or another, Wonder Woman appears in National City to train Kara. Very early in this training, Maggie teases her for having Thoughts™ about Diana. Kara protests that she looks at *plenty* of her female friends that way. Maggie tilts her head. Things click. Diana is supportive.

It starts, as most things in Kara’s life seem to, with running late.

It starts with a missed alarm, a frantic rush up the elevator and into Snapper’s office, and a desperate prayer that he will not yet have noticed her absence.

(He has.)

It starts with him yelling and the sirens blaring, and her senses short out for a second at the cacophony. She has to go.

Only– he’s glaring at her and saying something about don’t you dare think about going anywhere, Danvers, and she’s frozen for a beat before she darts away.

That beat is just long enough for the rogue alien to capture three civilians. That beat, that moment of doubt, is long enough for her to have no time to plan, strategize.

Instead, she dives into the fray. The alien is strong–not quite as strong as her, but closer than most, and it takes its toll, one punch against her ribs knocking her clear back past the edge of the park.

She saves the civilians. She does not go back to work. She crashes into her bed, still costumed, and does not move until Alex’s voice wakes her.

“Kara.”

(Kara stirs, murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like Lena. Alex reminds herself to think about that later.)

“Kara.” Alex shoves her arm, and Kara mumbles, some vague no, don’t wanna get up yet, go away.

“You’ve got to get up. You have a visitor. And I brought you breakfast.”

That is enough to fully wake her–she can smell the pancakes now that she is paying attention, can hear the extra heartbeat.

“Fine,” she grumbles, all but falling out of bed.

She expects Winn, or maybe James. Maggie, even, depending on how the park clean-up and investigation is going, or maybe Lena, if she’s secretly still asleep and having the best dream of her life.

Instead, it’s Wonder Woman.

Kara stops short in the doorway. Here she is, having changed into cat print pajamas. And there she is, all hands on hips and chin raised high, and Rao, it’s a sight she could get used to waking up to.

(Not that she wants to. Just that she could. Wonder Woman is an inspiration, that’s all.)

(That is definitely not all.)

“Supergirl,” Wonder Woman says, and it breaks Kara out of her stupor just enough to send her into another one, this time focused on the timbre of her voice, how Supergirl sounds on the other woman’s tongue.

“Y-Yes. I’m Supergirl. That is– That is me.”

Alex stares at her as she trips over words, waves her hands like they will erase all of this embarrassment.

Thankfully, Wonder Woman spares her. “Superman sent me. Managing a secret identity is hard. I’ve come to train you, teach you how to maximize your efficiency as both Kara Danvers and Supergirl.”

Kara nods. Speaking does not seem like a good idea.

She calls Winn later to brag.

“You met who?” he gasps. “And you didn’t invite me?”

“It wasn’t a super formal thing, Winn. She just kind of showed up in my apartment.”

“I wish Wonder Woman showed up in my apartment.”

“Maybe she would if you ever cleaned up.”

She can tell he wants to hmph, to pout. But curiosity gets the best of him: “So what’s she like?”

“She’s amazing. She just looks so strong. Her arms are unreal. And she was so nice. She’s probably perfect, Winn. No faults. Actually perfect.”

And so they train.

Sometimes, when Diane takes her through the city and makes her listen to the sirens blaring by, asks her what the most innocuous escape route is, what excuse she would use, Kara can hardly believe it counts as training.

But then Kara thinks a lot about all the bad excuses she has given, how she has flown places on buses before, had to save her non-existent cat from the doom of being locked in the bathroom for too long, had to rescue Alex from more fake bad dates than she ever wants to count, and she gets it. Supergirl might be brave, and confident, and righteous, but Kara Danvers wears awkwardness well, and the words often come too quickly for her mouth to ever catch up.

She tells Diane all of the stories, means for them to be light, jokes about the perils of a double identity. They turn into pleas: I want to tell them, all of them, everyone I care about.

“Like who?” Diane asks, and so Kara talks about Lena. First about how she’s pretty sure Lena knows: she has to, has to have put together the clues. Later about how smart Lena is–book smart but also just smart smart, the kind of smart that is visible in the way she looks at the world and pieces it together and figures it out. How kind.

She talks, and talks, and talks, and does not realize Diane has walked her back to her apartment until they are at the doorstep and Diane tells her we’ve done a lot today, go get some rest. Go spend some time with your friends.

Sometimes they fight.

They fight in the green room, Kara’s powers dulled from thunder to a buzz. Alex watches the first time, joins in the next.

The day after that, Maggie is there.

“Hey, Little Danvers,” she calls, and Kara looks up. “C’mere.”

She is tired enough that her walk becomes a schlep, cape draped heavily over slumped shoulders. “’m not fighting you too. Too tired.”

“That’s not what I want,” Maggie says, and if Kara were not so out of it she would be frightened of the way Maggie is smiling.

(It’s too knowing, and oh, if Maggie isn’t knowing. She figured out her identity, after all. Kara doesn’t want to know what she’ll figure out next.)

“So, Wonder Woman,” Maggie continues. “Pretty cute, right?”

Kara’s brow quirks down into what her sister would call the crinkle. “Huh?”

“Come on. You’ve been staring at her like you want to wrestle her in a whole different sorta way all day.”

Her exhaustion abruptly fades, and Kara stands up tall, fighting back the heat of her cheeks. “N–No I haven’t. I look at a lot of people like that.”

“Like–?”

“Like– Lena! I look at Lena like that!”

It is the wrong thing to say, apparently: Maggie laughs and laughs until she has to leave the room.

Kara stands for a long while, thinking.

The next day, Maggie is there to watch again.

(”You think I’m going to miss an opportunity to watch my girlfriend get all hot and bothered? Think again, Little Danvers.”)

(”Hot an– No. Oh no. I’m sorry I asked. Okay. Oh no.”)

Only Maggie does not leave after Alex fights. She stays, props one foot against the doorframe, and grins.

Kara refuses to make eye contact. And she does not look at Wonder Woman either–the urge to blush and stutter is too strong, too unavoidable, especially when her eyes are clear, and bright, just like Lena’s when she smiles, and–

Okay. No eye contact.

She fights and ostensibly wins, but Maggie laughs as she leaves again, and Kara feels like she is still missing something.

“Why do you keep laughing at me?” she finally asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Every time you watch me fight y– you laugh at me!”

Maggie cocks her head, lets the teasing smirk fade. “I wasn’t laughing at you.”

“Then why were you laughing?” She’s not sure why she’s so bent out of shape over this: she loves Maggie, loves the way Maggie calls her Little Danvers, loves the way Maggie cares so fully about everyone in Alex’s life. But there is something about this that she just does not understand.

“Because you look at Wonder Woman the same way I look at Alex.”

Kara knows that look: it’s the one that says wow, how did I get so lucky?

“Oh,” she replies eventually. Maggie pats her shoulder and walks away.

That night, she dreams of Lena.

She dreams of the way Lena bites her lip sometimes, and the whole world of her dream seems to freeze, to zoom: those eyes, half narrowed, pleading. Her hands, nervous.

“Of course I’ll come to the gala with you,” Kara had said.

With you. With you.

They are in the middle of training when the news comes in: an attack at L-Corp.

Kara is gone before Winn finishes the briefing, a flash of blue-red, a blink, gone.

(She has been measured before, studied. The DEO has calculated her maximum speed and strength and all of it, every piece, has been recorded carefully.)

(She breaks that record as she flies toward Lena.)

Wonder Woman leaves, and the training stops, and Kara does not know what to do with her newfound free time.

She visits Lena–thankfully uninjured, now working from home until the repairs are done.

She stands uncomfortably in the DEO, wishing she were visiting Lena.

And then she figures it out.

“Maggie, are you there?” Kara knocks, and keeps knocking, and keeps calling out.

(Any other time, she’d be worried about what she’d find behind the door. Now, she does not care.)

(Maggie is home, she knows it. And Maggie will open the door.)

“Coming, coming.”

Maggie opens the door in boxer shorts and a t-shirt that is a little too familiar. Kara does not think too much about it.

“I like her. Maggie, I like her. You were right, when you were laughing. You were totally right, and I like her, and I don’t know what to do, Maggie, you have to help.”

It is a lot to take in: Kara, pacing, hands ablaze. “Slow down, Supergirl.”

Kara stops, looking down. “I like Lena.”

And there, Maggie thinks, it is. The perhaps inevitable, certainly enjoyable, proof that she was right all along. She steps closer.

“Then go tell her.”

“And say what? I don’t know what to say! I’ve never done this. What if it goes wrong?”

“Tell her that you like her, ask her to dinner. Believe me, she feels the same.”

“Okay. Wait, no. Are you sure? I mean, if you say so. But are you really saying so?”

“Kara. She likes you. Go.”

Kara was not aware Wonder Woman sent postcards.

It is another piece of information to store away in the little super hot amazonian superhero folder in the back of her mind, the one that had quickly been eclipsed by the super duper hot CEO that likes you too folder. It’s nice, humanizing.

The postcard bears a picture of Metropolis, all shining sun and glowing skyline. And on the back there is a Daily Planet clipping, a headline Kara knows all too well: “Lena Luthor spotted with Catco reporter.”

Below it, there is a simple message: Congrats!

#u didn't ask for a fic but i wrote one anyway sjkfsdf i hope u like it anon!!#anonymous #ask #there is some vague #supercorp #bc i'm weak and of course there is

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 7 years

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Throwing Rocks - fic

Characters: Jon Kent, Damian Wayne Pairing: jondami Summary: He wasn’t expecting a knock on his window. A/N: This is pointless but I don’t care. It’s fluff and I fucking love fluff. Jon’s 19-20, Damian’s 22-23.

If anyone asked, he’d say it was his injuries that woke him up. The pain. Of his lacerated lungs, the broken knee, the concussion, the shattered fingers, the…everything.

But in reality – it was the soft little knock on his window. The knock-knock-knock that reverberated in the silence of the night. The rush of panic through his system that someone was coming to take him, kidnap him away from his father and his family. Finish the job that their villains had already started on him this evening, and what kind of story would that be? That he was murdered as he lay helpless in his bed?

But as he tried to ball his hand into a useless fist, a head popped up over his windowsill, and he found himself instinctively relaxing.

The bright blue eyes searched the room quickly, before landing on him – then an equally blinding smile appeared too.

“Hi.” He whispered.

“You’re an idiot.” Damian hissed, waving his hand anyway, indicating the window was unlocked. “Does my father know you’re here? You’re lucky you weren’t caught by the manor security systems. I would have had to tell Superman his son died because he was a moron.”

Jon laughed as he pushed the windowpane up, slipping quickly over the ledge. He kept it cracked, though they both already knew he wouldn’t need a quick exit route.

(Probably.)

“I have this cool case I thought you might like.” Jon hummed as he sauntered up to the side of the bed. He wasn’t wearing a uniform. Just jeans and flannel, and those stupid glasses. “Wanna partner up and help me out?”

Damian scowled as Jon dropped to the floor beside his bed, resting his elbows on the mattress.

“Actually, no.” Jon smirked. “You don’t get a choice. Suit up, Nightwing. We got bad guys to stop.”

“…You know I can’t.” Damian droned in annoyance. Jon just cackled. “As much as I’d like to…Father says I’m out of commission for the next month at least, even if I happen to heal quickly.”

“I know, I know. I’m just joking. Remember when you used to do that to me all the time when we were kids?” Jon asked, a nostalgic lilt to his tone as he reached his hand out, and carefully stroked his fingers along Damian’s face. “How you feeling, beautiful?”

“Terrible. Everything hurts.” Damian whined, even as he leaned into the hand and closed his eyes. “…Really though, does my father know you’re here?”

“Nope.”

“My brother?”

“Nuh-uh.”

Damian opened his eyes and looked up. “…What about your parents?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Jon!” Damian scolded. “You know we’re not supposed to-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Jon drawled, suddenly shifting back to his feet, and climbing onto the bed. Without warning, he flipped his leg over Damian’s chest, straddling his torso, though still being careful not to put any actual weight on Damian’s body and his injuries. “You did this to me for years-”

“I did not sit provocatively on top of you ever in those years, thank you very much.”

“-It’s about time I started trying to even the score a little bit, don’t you think?” Jon continued, leaning down until his forearms were on the pillow on either side of Damian’s face. “Besides, you know if I asked Batman for permission to see you, he’d say no.”

“…He’s just being protective, you know that.” Damian huffed quietly. He could feel his cheeks heating up in a blush, and felt his soul lighten as Jon noticed, and smiled. “He doesn’t blame you.”

Jon’s smile faded a little, and turned sad.

“He could.” Jon whispered. “He’d probably be very right to do so, too.”

Damian pursed his lips, let his gaze dart between Jon’s eyes. Suddenly, he reached up, tugging at the arms of Jon’s glasses. “…I hate when you wear these.”

It was a terrible segue, but Jon ran with it anyway.

“Really?” Jon murmured. As soon as the glasses were off, he lowered his head those last few inches. Brushed his nose along Damian’s skin before starting a trail of kisses on his jaw. “Because I love when you do.”

Damian hummed a scoff, slowly closing his eyes. He could fall asleep like this, had many times in the past. But then Jon’s wandering hand skimmed a bruise along his ribs, and he involuntarily gasped in pain.

Jon immediately lurched up, holding his hands up like in surrender. “What hurts?”

“I told you.” Damian grit out. “Everything.”

Jon didn’t say anything, but Damian could feel his guilt.

“…What can I do?” He whispered, reaching out to hold Damian’s face. “What can I do to help you?”

As the pain subsided, Damian sighed, looking up at the other.

“You can stop worrying, and lay with me.” Damian decided. “Is that too difficult?”

Jon shook his head. “Where would hurt you least?”

Damian shrugged, and held his hands out. Jon tilted his head, blue eyes sad, and looked away, as he carefully crawled off Damian to the free side of the bed. Gently, he pushed one arm under Damian’s pillow, and laid the other one across his waist, focusing on the slow heartbeat of the body in his arms.

Damian couldn’t move much, but shifted so his head was cradled in the curve of Jon’s neck. Intertwined his fingers with the ones on his hip, and clung to Jon’s elbow with the other. Gave a content sigh as he closed his eyes again.

He always did sleep better in Jon’s arms, after all.

“…I’m sorry.” Jon whispered into his temple with a careful kiss. “I should have been there.”

“You shouldn’t have. I’m glad you weren’t.” Damian hummed. “My grandfather had Kryptonite there. He was prepared for you. If you’d have been there, he would have hurt you as well as me. Then I would have killed him.”

“…That.” He snorted a quiet laugh. “That doesn’t make me feel better, Damian.”

“it’s not supposed to. I’m just saying, if you’d have been there, I’d have killed someone and we’d have been separated forever.” Damian explained, like it was obvious. “And…you’d have been hurt, and I don’t want that.”

“Oh yeah, because just you getting hurt is so much better.” Jon drawled. “None of this changes the fact. I should have been there.”

Damian shifted to look up at him, sleepy eyes fierce. “But you’re here now, and that’s what matters to me.”

Jon just kissed his head again.

But suddenly, Damian’s glare jerked over his shoulder.

“And he’s staying here.” He called loudly, though it sounded like it hurt him. Jon blinked, and twisted. Bruce Wayne was standing in the doorway, an annoyed scowl on his face. “So if you have a problem with it Father, take it up with Superman, since he apparently is unable to control his son.”

“…H-hi, Mr. Wayne.” Jon tried to smile. Bruce didn’t return it. “I…I just wanted to check on him…”

Bruce kept his frown, but suddenly checked his watch. “…Call for me in forty-five minutes, Jonathan. He’ll need his next round of medication then, and a change to the bandages.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Damian, you’re injured.” Bruce scolded. “So no sort of…fooling around.”

“Save your sexual warnings for someone who needs them. Like Grayson.” Damian drawled, rolling his eyes even as Jon’s face heated up in embarrassment. “Goodnight, Father.”

Bruce grumbled, silently closing the door behind him.

Jon groaned, hiding his face in Damian’s hair. “He’s going to kill me.”

“He won’t.” Damian chuckled weakly, settling his head back against Jon’s neck. Pause, then: “I’ll duel him for you.”

Jon hesitated, focused his ears to the house – heard Bruce already calling his parents. Laughed incredulously as he held Damian closer.

“And much to your surprise, I’m sure.” Jon sighed, focusing on Damian’s heartbeat again. The slowing breaths of Damian – still alive and safe and he didn’t lose him this time – dozing off in his arms. “That still doesn’t make me feel better.”

#jondami #jon kent #Damian Wayne

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musetotheworld · 7 years

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Merry Christmas! I have a Supercat prompt based on the ending to the first Superman movie with Christopher Reeves. Cat dies in Supergirl's arms after failing to stop her assassination. Stricken with grief and rage, Kara speeds around the Earth and reverses time to save Cat and confess her feelings.

Moving in slow motion is not a sensation Kara is familiar with, not when she has the ability to move faster than sound with little more than a thought.

But as she hears a shot ring out across the room from where she’s busy fighting off a set of would be attackers who seem determined to kill her boss, Kara learns exactly what it feels like.

Her head turns, agonizingly slowly, and she’s just in time to see Cat fall to the ground, the look of shock on her face more painful than any Kryptonite wound. A scream that Kara barely recognizes as her own rings out, and in the space of a few seconds Kara has dealt with the opponents she’d been trying to beat without seriously injuring them, leaving four crumpled masses on the floor as she speeds across the room to Cat’s side.

“No, no…” Kara mutters as she takes in the amount of blood seeping through Cat’s shirt. It’s too much, too fast, and even if she could get the woman to a hospital before she bled out, they wouldn’t have time to save her. The shot is perfectly placed, Cat has a minute left at best.

“Kara…” Cat whispers, reaching up with one shaking hand, arm going limp before she can make contact with the tears already pouring down Kara’s face. “I- ’s okay, Kara.” Her words are slurred, eyes unfocused, and Kara can’t even begin to process that Cat has known her identity all along as her head lolls to the side in unconsciousness, heart slowing and stopping soon after.

Kara can feel bullets bouncing off her shoulders as she kneels holding Cat’s body but she doesn’t care, doesn’t react to the sensation at all. The shooter has already hurt her, already done the damage. She wishes the bullets could hurt her, wishes there were some way that the pain inside could be mirrored on the outside.

Even when she hears the NCPD or whoever is responding to the emergency call enter, she can’t tear herself away from Cat’s body to help. If she stays right here, refuses to acknowledge the world around her, then maybe this will all turn out to be just a bad dream. If she doesn’t accept it, it never happened.

When Alex moves to take Cat’s body from her, Kara has to fight down an instinctive urge to push her away. She isn’t in control enough to keep her strength in check, and she knows it. But she can’t let Alex take Cat from her either. If she does, then everything will become real.

The voice in the distance eventually clears into Alex’s voice, and Kara realizes her sister has been talking for some time. “Kara, she’s gone. You can’t help her. You’ll be okay, but we need to get you out of here. She’s gone, there’s nothing more you can do. You tried, Kara.” It’s a soothing repetition that slowly pulls Kara out of the worst of the grief, enough so that she can breathe, can register the world around her once more.

It makes the pain that much clearer in contrast, and even with super strength she can’t fight down the sobs that begin to wrack her body. A world without Cat seems empty already, and Kara doesn’t know what’s supposed to happen now. Everything has changed, and not in any way for the better.

“I don’t know what to do, Alex,” Kara sobs as she finally lets the agents take Cat’s body from her, reluctantly letting go of the hold that she knows would have been too tight if Cat had still been alive.

“We go on,” Alex says, reaching out carefully to put her hands on Kara’s shoulders. It’s clear she understands Kara isn’t in control enough to return the embrace, but that’s never stopped her from reaching out before and won’t now. “We can’t turn back time, we have to move forward.”

She keeps talking, keeps trying to reassure Kara, but all the hero can think about is the fact that she can turn back time. She can go back and fix this. She can be fast enough, and good enough, and save the day. Save the woman who’d snuck into her heart, whose presence hadn’t even been noticed until there was an absence in its place.

Kal-El had done it, once. He’d told her about it, warned her that it was reckless and foolhardy. He’d told her it so easily could have been a mistake, that he could have ended up ruining everything. And he’d stressed that she should never do it herself, that he was telling her only to avoid an accident in the future if she wasn’t aware of what her actions could do.

But every warning he’d given pales in comparison to the thought that she could save Cat this way, that she could fix the mistake that had lured her from the woman’s side for just long enough. Kal-El had saved Lois, he would just have to deal with her saving Cat.

“I can fix this,” Kara cuts Alex off mid-reassurance, and her sister looks at her in confusion for a moment before realization sets in.

“It’s dangerous,” is all she says, recognizing Kara’s determination and not even trying to talk her out of it. “You need to be very sure, and be very careful. And you need to go now if you’re going to do this, before these events are set too firmly in time.”

"I love you,” Kara says, finally feeling like she can pull Alex into a hug without hurting her, now that she has some control over the situation.

“I love you too,” Alex returns instantly, returning the hug with a grip tight enough that Kara can feel it. “And you obviously love her, so promise me we’ll talk about this once you’ve saved the day.”

“I promise.” And with that, Kara steps just far enough away to launch herself into the sky, heading towards the edge of space and the height she’ll need to pull this off.

Clark’s voice is in her ear as she starts gaining speed, trying to warn her, but Kara has decided. “You saved Lois, I’m saving Cat,” is all she says to him, but it seems to work and he falls silent, leaving her to focus on reaching the necessary speed and punching her way through time.

The calculations run through her mind in a continuous stream, using every bit of her Kryptonian intelligence to make sure she arrives at precisely the right moment, landing in front of Cat just in time to catch the bullet, sparing a quick glance across the room to see if past her is still fighting. She isn’t entirely sure how time travel affects her presence on Earth.

But she seems to be the only Supergirl in the room, and Kara gives up on trying to understand in favor of taking out the shooter and the assailants she’d been fighting earlier, not bothering to hold back because they’re human. She takes care not to kill them, tries to avoid broken bones, but other than that she’s more interested in taking them out of commision and returning to Cat’s side.

“Are you okay?” she asks as she scans the woman for injuries, trying not to reveal how affected she is by the sight of her. Cat doesn’t know what had happened, and Kara doesn’t want to scare her.

“Thanks to you, Supergirl,” Cat says, heart racing but giving no outward sign of her panic. “I’ll admit to wondering whether you’d be fast enough, but it seems I had no reason to fear.”

Guilt stabs Kara, a dull ache spreading through her torso out from her heart, and she has to remind herself that she’d fixed it, that she’d found a way to keep Cat safe.

“Couldn’t let you down, Miss Grant,” she says rather than break down and confess how she’d failed, or potentially worse confess how she feels about the woman in front of her. She will later, whether it ruins things between them or not, but for now she has to remain aware of the press of civilians around them, more than one reporter among them. “Would you like a lift home? I think they’ll be interviewing the drivers for a good while. They’ll want to talk to you as well, but I’ll let the officers know they can find you later.”

It’s not protocol, and it’s clear they both realize that as Cat fixes her with an intrigued and questioning look. “Very well then, Supergirl. I trust you won’t drop me?”

“Never,” Kara vows, memory of losing Cat still so fresh in her mind that she has to force the word past a lump in her throat. “I’ll deliver you home safe and sound.”

Cat’s heart rate picks up again when Kara lifts into the sky, but Kara is careful to hold her close and secure, taking the trip slow. It’s half out of a desire to stay pressed close enough to feel her heartbeat, but she can justify it by pretending it’s about Cat’s comfort.

“I wasn’t aware you knew my address,” Cat teases when they land on the balcony of her penthouse, falling into the easy teasing that’s developed between them over Kara’s identity. Now that Kara knows her secret is anything but, it even feels friendly, lighthearted. There’s a new depth to the interaction.

“Of course I do,” Kara says, voice serious instead of joining the banter, and Cat stills at the difference. “What kind of assistant would I be if I didn’t?”

“Why now?” Cat asks as she digests the revelation, and Kara shrugs. “A shrug, Kara? You spill your greatest secret after months of hiding, and a shrug is all I get?” Cat’s hands are on her hips as she stares Kara down, and it’s so familiar and comforting that Kara finally smiles, for the first time since she’d turned in horror.

“You died,” Kara admits, smile fading as she remembers. “I wasn’t fast enough, and I didn’t notice the fifth attacker. I got caught up fighting four, and he shot you.”

Cat’s face is blank with shock as she hears the news, one hand reaching up to press into her chest right over where the bullet had entered. It sends another wave of guilt through Kara, nearly sending the hero to her knees with the weight.

“Obviously something happened to save me,” Cat says after long minutes of silent processing. “I’m here, so clearly I didn’t die.”

“I, um, I flew through time to save you,” Kara admits, closing her eyes for a second to focus on the soothing sound of Cat’s heartbeat.

“Well that sounds…useful,” Cat says, trying for her usual snark but falling a bit short. “Is that something you do often?”

“No, and I don’t know that I should have done it this time. It’s dangerous.” The words are true, what Kara knows she should be saying, but they ring hollow. She’d do it again, and again, and again, as many times as needed to keep Cat safe.

The older woman absorbs the news quietly, though from the way her fingers are drumming on her collarbone Kara knows she isn’t as calm as she appears. Not that Kara can blame her, hearing you’d died and a superhero turned back time to save you would throw anyone.

“If it’s dangerous, why do it?” Cat asks, taking a single step closer to where Kara is still standing against the railing. “I’ve seen Supergirl in anguish over not being able to save everyone before, but you didn’t change things then. It was just me this time, only one person, and yet you took this risk anyway. Why is that?”

“Because I can’t lose you,” Kara bursts out, unable to hold the admission in any longer. “I didn’t realize it until I did, but I can’t do it. I can’t lose you, Cat. I- Rao, I don’t even know- I don’t have words for this, Cat. I don’t.”

The next thing Kara knows there are soft lips on her own, and finally she can breathe again, finally the sick feeling in her gut is gone because this is what she’s needed. This is the reassurance that Cat is alive that leaves no doubt, because Kara could not have imagined the perfection of feeling Cat’s body pressed against her while a searching tongue explores her mouth. She’d only just realized she loved Cat, there had been no imagining this, but even if she had Kara knows those dreams would pale in comparison.

“You didn’t lose me, Kara, you saved me,” Cat breathes against her lips when the kiss breaks.

And maybe they should slow down, take stock of the massive shift in their relationship, but Kara can’t seem to step back, and Cat doesn’t seem inclined to either. The shock of Kara seeing Cat die, the shock of Cat hearing that she’d died, right now they both need this connection, this affirmation that everything is okay.

So Kara banishes the last of her doubts and lifts Cat once more into strong arms, carrying her inside as their lips meet again, intent on proving again and again that Cat is alive.

And then maybe later, maybe much later, they’ll actually get around to talking.

#supergirl #supergirl fic #supercat #supercat fic #prompt fill #as you can see I am a little behind on filling these #but I am still filling them #tw:death #death mention #I fix it please don't be too angry #Now with no cliffhangers!

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airoasis · 5 years

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Imaging at a trillion frames per second | Ramesh Raskar

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/imaging-at-a-trillion-frames-per-second-ramesh-raskar/

Imaging at a trillion frames per second | Ramesh Raskar

Translator: Joseph Geni Reviewer: Thu-Huong Ha Doc Edgerton stimulated us with awe and curiosity with this photo of a bullet piercing by means of an apple, and publicity only a millionth of a 2d. But now, 50 years later, we are able to go 1,000,000 times rapid and see the sector no longer at one million or one billion, however a thousand billion frames per 2d. I gift to you a new sort of pictures, femto-pictures, a brand new imaging process so quick that it may well create gradual motion movies of sunshine in movement. And with that, we are able to create cameras that can appear around corners, beyond line of sight, or see inside our physique with out an x-ray, and rather undertaking what we mean by way of a camera. Now if I take a laser pointer and switch it on and off in a single trillionth of a 2d — which is a couple of femtoseconds — i’m going to create a packet of photons barely a millimeter broad.And that packet of photons, that bullet, will travel on the speed of sunshine, and again, a million occasions turbo than an usual bullet. Now, in case you take that bullet and take this packet of photons and fireplace into this bottle, how will those photons shatter into this bottle? How does mild seem in gradual motion? Now, the entire event — (Applause) Now recall, the whole occasion is easily taking situation in not up to a nanosecond — that’s how a lot time it takes for light to travel. However i’m slowing down on this video with the aid of a aspect of 10 billion, so you will see that the sunshine in motion. (Laughter) however Coca-Cola did not sponsor this research. (Laughter) Now, there is rather a lot going on in this movie, so let me damage this down and exhibit you what is going on on. So the heartbeat enters the bottle, our bullet, with a packet of photons that start traveling through and that scattering inside of. One of the gentle leaks, goes on the table, and you start seeing these ripples of waves. Many of the photons eventually reach the cap and then they explode in quite a lot of instructional materials. As you will see, there’s a bubble of air and it is bouncing round inside.Meanwhile, the ripples are journeying on the table, and due to the fact that of the reflections at the prime, you see in the back of the bottle, after a number of frames, the reflections are focused. Now, in case you take an normal bullet and let it go the identical distance and gradual down the video — once more, by means of a element of 10 billion — are you aware how lengthy you’ll have got to sit right here to look at that film? (Laughter) A day, every week? Without a doubt, a whole 12 months. It would be an extraordinarily boring movie — (Laughter) of a slow, common bullet in movement. And what about some nonetheless-existence photography? That you would be able to watch the ripples, once more, washing over the table, the tomato and the wall in the again. It can be like throwing a stone in a pond of water. I suggestion: that is how nature paints a image, one femto frame at a time, but of direction our eye sees an integral composite.But in the event you seem at this tomato yet another time, you are going to become aware of, as the light washes over the tomato, it continues to glow. It does not grow to be dark. Why is that? Considering the fact that the tomato is simply ripe, and the light is bouncing around within the tomato, and it comes out after a few trillionths of a second. So in the future, when this femto-digital camera is for your digicam cell, you probably ready to go to a grocery store and investigate if the fruit is ripe with out truly touching it. (Laughter) So how did my team at MIT create this digital camera? Now, as photographers, you realize, in case you take a brief publicity photo, you get very little gentle. But we’ll go 1000000000 instances faster than your shortest exposure, so you’re going to get infrequently any mild. So what we do is we ship that bullet — that packet of photons — thousands of instances, and file again and again with very intelligent synchronization, and from the gigabytes of information, we computationally weave together to create those femto-movies I showed you.And we can take all that uncooked data and deal with it in very interesting approaches. So, Superman can fly. Another heroes can emerge as invisible. However what a couple of new vigour for a future superhero: to look round corners. The suggestion is that we would shine some mild on the door, it will leap, go inside the room, a few of that is going to reflect again on the door, and then back to the digital camera. And we might exploit these a couple of bounces of sunshine. And it’s no longer science fiction. We now have simply constructed it. On the left, you see our femto-camera. There’s a mannequin hidden at the back of a wall, and we’re going to soar light off the door. So after our paper was once released in Nature Communications, it was once highlighted with the aid of Nature.Com, they usually created this animation. (song) (song) Ramesh Raskar: we’ll fireplace those bullets of sunshine, and they’re going to hit this wall, and due to the fact of the packet of the photons, they will scatter in the entire instructions, and a few of them will attain our hidden model, which in turn will once more scatter that gentle, and again in turn, the door will reflect a few of that scattered light.And a tiny fraction of the photons will in reality come again to the camera, but most apparently, they are going to all arrive at a somewhat exclusive time slot. (track) And seeing that we’ve a digital camera that can run so fast — our femto-digital camera — it has some specific competencies. It has superb time decision, and it may well appear on the world on the speed of light. And this manner, we know the distances, of course to the door, but additionally to the hidden objects, however we have no idea which point corresponds to which distance. (track) via shining one laser, we will document one raw photograph, which, in case you appear on the monitor, would not really make any experience. But then we will take plenty of such photos, dozens of such images, put them collectively, and take a look at to analyze the multiple bounces of sunshine, and from that, do we see the hidden object? Will we see it in full 3D? So this is our reconstruction. (track) (Applause) Now, we have now some approaches to go earlier than we take this outside the lab on the street, however someday, we could create automobiles that avert collisions with what’s around the bend.Or we are able to seem for survivors in hazardous conditions by using looking at mild mirrored through open home windows. Or we can build endoscopes that may see deep within the physique around occluders, and also for cardioscopes. However of course, in view that of tissue and blood, this is fairly challenging, so that is particularly a name for scientists to begin interested by femto-photography as rather a new imaging modality to solve the subsequent generation of well being-imaging problems. Now, like Doc Edgerton, a scientist himself, science grew to become artwork — an artwork of extremely-speedy pictures. And i noticed that all the gigabytes of information that we’re collecting at any time when, aren’t only for scientific imaging.But we can also do a brand new form of computational pictures, with time-lapse and colour coding. And we seem at those ripples. Remember: The time between each and every of these ripples is only a few trillionths of a second. However there’s additionally anything humorous happening right here. While you seem on the ripples below the cap, the ripples are relocating away from us. The ripples must be relocating closer to us. What is going on on right here? It seems, when you consider that we’re recording virtually at the pace of light, we now have strange results, and Einstein would have adored to look this photo. (Laughter) The order at which pursuits take place on this planet appears within the digicam frequently in reversed order. So by means of applying the corresponding area and time warp, we can proper for this distortion. So whether it can be for pictures round corners, or creating the next iteration of health imaging, or creating new visualizations, due to the fact that our invention, we now have open-sourced all of the information and details on our website, and our hope is that the DIY, the creative and the study communities will exhibit us that we will have to discontinue obsessing concerning the megapixels in cameras — (Laughter) and start specializing in the subsequent dimension in imaging.It can be about time. Thank you. (Applause) .

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batterymonster2021 · 5 years

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Imaging at a trillion frames per second | Ramesh Raskar

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/imaging-at-a-trillion-frames-per-second-ramesh-raskar/

Imaging at a trillion frames per second | Ramesh Raskar

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