#cass has all the brain cells in the family

[poke-me-with-a-stick]

Artificial Wingman chapter 5!

Since this has reached 5 chapters, I've decided to post on my AO3! For the entire story, click here!

Enjoy!

---

The next day started bright and early. Well, as bright as Gotham got, anyways. Damian was naturally an early riser, and honestly expected to be the only one up for a while. Most of his 'siblings' slept in any chance they got, Cain and Grayson being the exception most of the time.

He was pleasantly surprised, however, when a sleep-muddled Danny wandered into the kitchen only a few minutes after him. He watched in amusement as the teen rummaged through the cabinets clumsily, seemingly not realizing where he was or who he was with.

Or, he assumed the teen wasn't aware of his presence in the room. He was proven only half right, as the teen handed him a bowl, going back to digging through the cabinets until he re-emergerged with a box of cereal and a second bowl. A victorious trill emerged Danny's mouth, the sound far from human. That was one theory confirmed.

A bit more awake now, the teen jumped slightly as he turned back towards Damian. In response, Damian simply raised an eyebrow at the teen, taking the box of cereal from his hands and pulling a carton of almond milk from the fridge. Danny continued to stand there with a blank look on his face, before shrugging to himself and settling himself on one of the barstools at the counter.

They ate their breakfast in companionable silence. Danny was the first to break the silence. "So, what's on the agenda today?" He asked, taking his bowl to the sink. Damian didn't answer immediately, thinking it over in his head. Absently, he noted a bit of milk that clung to the corner of Danny's mouth.

Pulling out the list from his pocket, he looked over the ingredients before responding. "I suppose our next stop would be a grocery store." He answered, standing to follow the teen into the living room.

He had an odd look on his face, but Danny only nodded, tossing on the hoodie that he had tossed in the drier before he had gone to bed, along with his canvas bag. Turning, he posed quite ridiculously as he faced the Robin. "Okay, lead the way!" His voice was light and playful, reminding Damian of his friend John a bit. A small voice in his mind that sounded a bit like Grayson told him to be thankful for the sunglasses that sat perched on his face.

With a small smile, Damian took Danny's hand, using his free hand to wipe the milk off the teen's face. Now slightly red and stuttering, Damian had zero trouble leading him out the door and into the shadows.

He recovered quickly, keeping close to Damian as they trekked quietly in and out of alleyways. It wasn't long before they found themselves slipping quietly into a supermarket. The light-up sign on the building was missing a letter towards the beginning, and had one blinking towards the end of the name. The door also squealed loudly as they pushed it open, almost drowning out the annoying bell that rang, announcing their entrance.

No one looked at them twice as they began to explore the aisles. Cheap, off-brand products lined the shelves. A lot of them past their expiration date. 'Alfred would not be impressed by this place.' Damian thought as he put a box back in its place.

Danny was ahead of him, looking over the shelves for the ingredients that they needed. He kept glancing down at the list, then looking back up. Occasionally his head would tilt as he peered at the aisle signs. 'Cute.' Damian couldn't help the small smile that turned the corners of him mouth.

As he moved to follow after Danny, who was just turning around the corner to the next aisle, something stopped him. He was aware of his surroundings, much more so than he had been at the mall. The front door squealed open, the bell going off with a high-pitched ding! Glancing at the noise, he madeneye contact with a familiar set of feminine blue eyes. Cain.

She glanced around a bit before looking back at him, a silent 'why?' in the way she shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head slightly. He rolled his eyes, but didn't move as she approached him.

"Hello Cain." He greeted when she was close enough, his voice low and a bit cold. She nodded at him.

"Hello." She signed. "Why are you here?"

Damian scoffed. "I could ask you the same."

She scrunched her nose at him, but made no move to sign. Waiting for his answer.

"I'm busy." He responded.

"With what?" She asked. He started to walk, then. Danny was out of sight, and he had no way of knowing which of his other siblings were hiding in here.

"It's a…Personal mission." He decided on. She kept pace with him as he checked the next aisle. No Danny here. 'Maybe the next one?'

"Personal mission?" She repeated. Damian sighed. 'At least she isn't trying to drag me back to the manor.'

"Yes. A personal mission." The next aisle was empty as well. 'How far did he get?' "One that is delicate." He looked at her from the corner of his eye. Cain was frowning slightly, but in a confused manner.

"Does this mission have anything to do with him?" She pointed down an aisle, to where Danny was looking between two canisters of salt. A small sigh of relief left him, tension dropping from his shoulders. Beside him, Cain's face cracked with a small, knowing smile.

"Yes. He is an essential part of that mission." Damian's cheeks tented lightly with blush, not that he noticed. Cain did, though. That blush told her all she needed to know.

"I understand now." She signed to him. "A new brother." He glared at her, but she continued before he could retort. "Your 'courting' him, yes?"

The blush that stained his face darkened. "Well, yes. At least, I'm trying to. He seems convinced that my feelings are artificial." At her questioning glance, he elaborated. "We met when I landed in a fountian that he had made. The water was contaminated with a 'love potion'. Though my thoughts and actions are slightly skewed at the moment, I do know myself better than that." Her face scrunched slightly, but she didn't object.

"What are you doing about it?" Danny was moving again, Salt canister added to the cheap green basket he had grabbed when they entered.

"I'm helping him collect the ingredients for a cure." They followed from a distance, watching as Danny pulled a bag of…something from the top shelf, sending a few more bags raining down on top of him. His surprised cry went semi-ignored by the two.

"Alright." She patted his shoulder gently before turning away, headed back towards the front of the store. She turned back to face him for a moment. "Don't worry, I'll stall the others. Good luck romancing!" And with that, she was gone. Damian watched her slip through the door before turning to catch up with Danny.

He had just finished putting the bags back up when Damian made it to his side. The teen glanced at him over his shoulder as he chucked the last bag up. "Hey, Robin. Who was that?"

Maybe his situational awareness was better than he first thought. "My adopted sister. She came to make sure I was in good health." Damian looked over the items in the basket, mentally ticking them off the list. "How much more do we need?"

"From here?" Danny pulled out the list again. "Umm, this is it. We can go pay now, but the last thing we need could probably be found at a flower shop." Slipping the list back into his pocket, he offered his hand to the teen absently. Damian took it immediately, taking the lead and heading towards the checkout.

"So, where to after this?" The teen asked. Damian was silent as their items were scanned. The cashier read out their total, and Damian tossed him a few bills before grabbing their things and walking out.

Back in the Gotham air, he decided. "How about lunch?" He started towards the nearest restaurant, which just so happened to be a Bat Burger.

"Sure, I could eat." Just as the teen said it, his stomach growled loudly. His face turned red, a hand coming up to rub his neck. His blush deepened as Damian chuckled, allowing himself to be pulled along the sidewalk.

In no time, the two were seated in a booth, farthest from the window and hidden by a few fake plants, should anyone walk in. "What's good here?" Danny asked as he glanced over the menu.

"I wouldn't quite know. The only thing I get from here is the veggie burger. And my siblings are a bit… biased, when it comes to ordering." Seeing as how they all claimed that their namesake meal was the best.

The teen looked over the menu for a few more minutes before sighing in defeat. "Could you order something for me?" He asked.

Damian nodded. "Of course. Do you have any preferences I should know about?" It would be horrible if he ordered something the teen was allergic to.

Danny shook his head. "Nah. Anything is fine. My friends often joke about me having an iron stomach." Chuckling a bit, he went a bit further. "Heck, I'm pretty sure I ate a spork once!"

For both their sakes, Damian hoped that the teen was exaggerating. Human or not, swallowing something like that was not healthy. He ignored it for now, simply nodding and heading to the front counter.

The teen standing behind the counter looked at him with a bored expression, a mock of Batman's cowl sat awkwardly over his head. "Welcome to Bat Burger, home of the Batburger and the Jokerized fries. How may I take your order?" He asked in a monotone voice.

Damian ignored the part of him that wished to scoff at the boy, placing his order quickly and paying, before heading back to their booth to wait.

Back at the booth, Danny was fiddling with the salt shaker. He pushed it from one end of the tabletop to the other, again reminding Damian of a cat. All he was missing were the ears and whiskers. He filed the picture his mind provided away for later, sitting down across from the teen.

Abandoning the salt shaker, Damny sat back up. "So, what's with this place?" He asked. Damian raised an eyebrow at the random question.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this place is named 'Bat Burger'. Unless they actually use bats in their burger patties, which I hope to all the Ancients that they are not, what's up with it?" Damian couldn't decide if he wanted to be amused at the teen's question, or disgusted at the thought of honest-to-god bat burgers. He eventually landed on neither, instead focusing on the odd curse he used.

"'Ancients?'" He voiced his curiosity.

Danny gave him a look. "You tell me, and I'll tell you?" He suggested.

'That sounds fair.' Damian decided. "This restaurant is themed after Gotham city's vigilante protectors."

Danny nodded. "Cool. So, are you one of those vigilanties?"

Shaking his finger at the teen, Damian smirked. "Ah-ah-ah. It's my turn, now." The teen across from him made a show of letting his shoulders droop before motioning for him to continue. "What, or who, are these 'Ancients' you keep referring to?"

"Ancients are the oldest, and strongest, beings that inhabit the Infinite Realms." He answered. "Now, it's my turn again. Are you one of the 'helpers' for this city?" His discrete wording was appreciated, as while they were talking the door dinged, a couple walking in and sitting in a booth not too far away from them.

"Yes. I am a 'helper'. One of the main ones, in fact." He couldn't help the way his chest puffed up slightly with pride as he spoke. Danny noticed, giving him a knowing smile, but said nothing. Instead wiggling his fingers as he waited for Damian's next question. "What is the 'Infinite Realms'?"

At his question, Danny's eyes seemed to take on a gleam. Though what it meant, Damian didn't quite know. The best way to describe it was a mix of fondness and excitement. "The Infinite Realms is basically the realm of the dead. Though it holds more than just ghosts, it holds entire civilizations, as well as portals to any and every dimension that exists." He blushed as he realized what he had said, looking away from Damian to examine the table in front of them.

Damian sat there for a moment, a bit stunned by his explanation. Sure, Damian knew that other universes existed, so it was no surprise to him. What did surprise him though, was how blunt and honest the teen was with him. If their roles were reversed, Damian couldn't say that he would be as up-front as Danny was being with him.

Not wanting to make the teen uncomfortable, all Damian did in response to this information was nod. "Makes sense. I suppose that you are one of the 'beings' that inhabit this realm?"

"Ah, no. Though I do spend quite a bit of time there, I'm not from there. I have a family in the mortal realm." Danny chuckled and rubbed nervously at the nape of his neck. Before Damian could respond, the teen at the counter called out their order number.

Damian stood up without a word, fetching their food and bringing it to the table quickly, a bit eager to get back to their questions.

Danny reached for his food, looking over his tray with a small smile. "Thank you." He said before digging into his burger. Damian watched him with a small smile, taking a bite of his own burger.

Swallowing, he picked up where they left off. "You aren't human though." At his words, Danny seemed to choke on his food, swallowing hard and coughing loudly into his fist while thumping his chest with his free hand.

"W-what do you mean?" He asked when he could speak again, his voice rough and squeaky.

"Exactly what I said. You aren't human, are you?" He took another bite of his veggie burger, watching as the teen struggled to find a good response.

Finally, after half of Damian's burger was gone, Danny sighed. "How did you know?" He asked, slightly exasperated.

Damian chuckled and began to list off his evidence on his fingers. "Your hands are constantly cold, you are concerningly light. You have fangs. Your eyes have a sheen to them, and glow in dim lighting. And just this morning, you trilled like a bird." With each piece of evidence, Danny's face grew a shade redder until he was sporting a bright lobster red.

Sighing, Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really need to get better at hiding it." He mumbled. Looking back up, he refused to meet Damian's eye. "Yeah, I'm not completely human. But I am half."

"And what is the other half?" Damian couldn't help but ask.

Danny twitched, but didn't flinch away. "Um. Well, to be honest, I'm part ghost." Damian blinked at him. "The ghosts from the 'Realms' refer to me as a 'halfa'. Half ghost, half human." He did jazz hands with a small 'ta-da!'.

Again, Damian could only blink as he tried to process that. He had seen a lot over the years, as a child assassin and as Robin, but this was a new one for sure. How could someone only be half ghost? Does that mean that Danny had, at some point, died? That generally is the only way someone becomes a ghost, is it not?

Something clenched painfully in his chest at the thought of Danny being in such a perilous situation. He hoped that was not the case, but he knew that it was most likely wishful thinking. "You're being incredibly up-front and honest with me."

Danny looked a bit surprised at the sudden change in topic, but only shrugged. "I mean, what's really the point of lying? I doubt that you're gonna do anything to me." That… was actually a very valid point. Damian had no urge to do anything to him, anything to hurt him anyways. In fact, it was only Danny's hesitance that kept him from spilling all his secrets, along with his family's secrets. Another thing that endeared him to the teen. His sense of honor.

"Anyways," Danny pointed at him with a fry, "who are the other 'helpers' of the city?"

Ah, an easily answered question. "Well, there's Batman, for starters. Nightwing occasionally helps out, but he mostly stays to patrol around one of Gotham's sister cities. Red Hood is more of a crime boss than a vigilante, but he protects his district fairly well. Red Robin, Signal, Orphan, and Spoiler are the other vigilanties that patrol Gotham regularly with Batman and Robin. And Oracle is the 'person in the chair'. She gives them most of their information while they are in the field." He listed off the names of his siblings alter egos easily, pausing after he was finished to take another bite of his food.

Danny nodded. "Okay, cool. But if that's all the vigilanties, then why are there more names on the menu items?" He pointed to the menu with another one of his fries before shoving it in his mouth.

"That's simple enough." Damian scoffed slightly. "They are the names of the villains that Batman and the others often fight." Danny hummed, raking a long drink from his cola.

"Makes sense." He nodded. "Any other questions for me?" He added before sticking the last bite of his burger into his mouth, making his cheeks puff out like a chipmunks.

Damian thought about it for a moment. He had a lot of questions, some branching from his inner detective and some that were decidedly not. In the end, he decided that he would only ask one question. The rest of his questions could wait.

He had plenty of time, after all. They might almost be done collecting the ingredients, but they still had to make the potion. Not to mention, while he did appreciate Cain's ability and willingness to derail the rest of his family, they would find him eventually. And they, too, would want answers. He only hoped that, by the time his family did manage to track them down, Danny would trust him enough not to run.

"One more question before we go." Sipping on the rest of his drink, Danny waited patiently for him to continue. "That… gun, the one you had back at the park. What was it for?"

The look that crossed the teen's face could only be described as a mix of realization and horror. "Oh Ancients. I completely forgot about that." Running his hand down his face, he sighed heavily. "That gun was my 'easy' way home. It's basically a portal gun. It uses ectoplasm to tear temporary holes in the demintional barrier, it's how I got here in the first place." He explained quickly.

Groaning again, he let his face hit the table with a muffled thud. "I can't believe I just left inner-dimensional tech in a random park." He muttered into the cheap wood.

Damian frowned, part of him wishing he had known this sooner and another part happy that he destroyed it so quickly when they first met. Still, even destroyed and hidden away in the underbrush, it wasn't safe to leave it there.

Resisting his urge to run his fingers through the teen's hair as he had his crisis, Damian pulled his phone out of the hoodie pocket he had shoved it in. Scrolling through the contacts, he clicked on the one person he could trust with this at the moment. Typing quickly, he sent a message to Cain, who responded a few seconds later. She sent a confirmation text, saying she was en route and would text again when she got back to the manor.

Satisfied that the issue was being taken care of, he tapped the table next to the teens head. He peeked up, his expression still stuck on dread. "I've taken care of it." He told the boy. His face switched from dread to confusion, one eyebrow raised incredulously at him. In response to the silent question, he held up his phone.

Danny's expression cleared, a tired kind of relief settling. "Oh. Okay, good. My sister would kill me a second time if she found out I left something that important just laying around." A worrying statement, now that he had a bit of context about Danny's 'situation', but a discussion could wait.

"Well, I suppose we should head out. You said something about a flower shop?" They both stood, the teen stretching until three little pops were heard before standing straight with a sigh. Shaking his head, Damian grabbed the teens hand and led him out of the restaurant, pausing as he stood at the crosswalk.

Where was the nearest flower shop again?

—

Cass sighed inaudibly as she rummaged through the bushes. Damian's text had been annoyingly vague in it's instructions, just a simple request to look for and retrieve a damaged, high tech looking weapon.

The location was easy enough to find, remains of an electronic birdbath laying prone in a small clearing. From there, she tracked the pair's movements through the underbrush, broken branches and tracks in the mud making it pretty easy.

It was just her luck that they stopped in a fairly overgrown area, the grass stopping just above her mid-calf. This was where she had been, bent over moving stalks of grass, for almost twenty minutes now.

Finally, though, her fingers brushed over a metallic casing. Moving quickly, she dug around in the green vegetation. With a few careful tugs, she revealed two pieces of what she assumed was some type of gun. Silver and green, with a bulky shape and some sort of slimy, Lazurus green liquid pooling in the glass canister.

She didn't waste any time on trying to figure out what it was, just gathered the pieces and shoved them into her bag. While she was extremely curious about the gun, along with the reason her possible future brother-in-law had it, the only thing she could really think of at the moment was where she could hide the bag where her family couldn't find it. Because if she wanted answers, she knew that they wanted them even more.

---

(I know that there are some spelling/Grammer mistakes, but thats okay. I tried my best.)

For all the lovely people who asked to be tagged, as well as the amazing person who made the prompt for this story! :

@halfblackwolfdemon @manapeer @xxwintrynightzxx @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @blu-lilac @academicpurposes @secretdestinywerewolf @passivedecept @naluforever3 @postit-nope @spiteismymiddlename @2t-productions @plague-daisy @feet-achy @bubblecookies16 @thesapphiredragon13 @justwannabecat @magicalcollecter @adeniumdream @amuseofminds @lupagrim @readerkayden @dr-syko-pharm-4 @ladythugs @angelheartgamer @markthespot68 @kyrianclawraith @michikoy-yuki @servasvictoria02 @your-emo-nightmare @vala-dreams @scarlett-green-rose @t1dwarrior-of-earth @charlie-the-frogie @akikoyuii @mysticalcomputerdetective @roseuniverse999 @im-totally-not-an-alien @thefearfullone @weird-droplet-309 @jaytriesstuff @raventao @jacquelynwinchester @dragongoblet @tlise21 @longlivethefallen @the-archer-goddess @temple-of-jalebi @adepresseddwightsblogofjunk @plainly-colorful @the-legal-shipper @49saltpeppershakers @igotafewbadideas @tumbling-darkling @sparklygardenbouquet @sarcastic-yami @blueneko9314 @starscreamlover @liedboutmurder @do3y @roze-realm @some-mildly-happy-human @yinari-uchiha @azuera @chaoticmistake @altairsarts @kawaiikenna @heartsong18 @thetoyboxs @tricksovertreats @mnemovoid @lim4b3ans @horribly-lost-and-gay @keimiwolf @dryeraseslime @joey394

Edit: I forgot the tags again. Oops!

#danny phantom #dc x dp #batman #batman x danny phantom #danny phantom x batfam #danny phantom x damian wayne #danny phantom x dc #dead serious #love potion #miscommunication #cass is the 'rid or die' sibling we all live for #cass has all the brain cells in the family

[rainybyday]

Wayne Spirit Add-ons Pt 2

+Danny has baby pictures of everyone but Alfred which Bruce both loves and hates because Danny also included some moments of his life he did not wanted to remember (but he loves because it includes all his children as babies)

+Danny leaves photos of blackmail to whoever he thinks will need it the most for reasons

+Tim and Bruce got extra special treatment for when they ripped into Clark about his treatment to Connor (he felt like he was going to burst when he saw them do the same with Lex Luther)

+Danny knows when the Lazarus Pit is acting up from Jason and immediately goes to him to calm the pit

+Danny leave Ectoplasm snacks for Jason, then Cass and Damian later on which they all love (and no other bat can have unless they want to feel a bit more then dead)

+Danny hates when any member of the family either gives each other a cold shoulder or are fighting to the point where he turns everything around him to the negative degrees (that is the signal for every bat to stop because they are making their resident ghost cry)

+All the bats have a competition over what is Danny’s name and his appearance before Duke came around, turns out Bruce won because he did see a glance at him once as a child very young

+Leaves as soon as he sees Catwomen near Batman because… no, just no. He saw him as a baby, he dose not need to see his boy flirt much less kiss anyone thanks

+Danny starts banging his head over the pattern of Dick’a partners 

+Danny reviled himself when Bruce once got kidnapped (before he was an adult) by scaring the ever living shit out of his kidnappers which started the rumor that he was protected by Gotham’s spirit (which later turned to the Wayne’s when Dick got kidnapped, then Jason, then Tim and so on (every kidnapper learned the hard way))

+There’s a couple of ice blue crystal designed tables that the bats put little trinkets and things they want Danny to have or allow him to borrow because their ghost deserves all the presents (they have to pamper him somehow)

+They fight to have Danny with them during Summer which doesn’t work out for them because Danny only goes to whoever he thinks has the most brain cells at that time

+Will pull a lot of pranks at gales to entertain Bruce as a kid and then to all of his children when they clearly want an escape

+Everyone knows Danny is the happiest when they are in the Watchtower because they have a trail of snowflakes behind them when ever they go

+Batman almost killed John Constantine when he tried to exorcist Danny once he saw him clinging on to Batman’s back like a parasite at a meeting

+Captain Marvel/Shazam takes one look at him and waves with a greetings to him with a smile (he gets brownie points with ALL the bats (to the point where other hero’s see how Bats is bias towards him))

+Superman feel very uneasy when he first met Batman

+Mess with Bruce Wayne and you will find your dreams fill with nightmares of endless pools of green and a child who drools the same shade of green as the child grins at them (“Your next.”)

+Danny can not take any of the Bats seriously because he seen them all grow up and is not afraid of any of them, finds their imitation tactics cute (verbally coos at Bruce when he did it the first time and almost cried out of pure joy when Dick, still as Robin, tried to copy him)

+Danny added fuel to Bruce’s adoption addiction by leave adoption papers every time he brings in a child (jokes on him when the Bruce finds out how old Danny is)

#danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #dc x dp #dp x dc #damian wayne #batfam #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth #wayne spirit au

[avocado-frog]

In which I make a WIP intro seven chapters in

Hey hey hello my name is Isaac and I am here to tell you about this thing I wrote. Under the cut so that I don't make you read the whole thing if you don't want.

So the story itself is called Forget me not, after the flower that symbolizes respect, remembrance (obviously) and a connection that endures all challenges and measure of time.

There is also the literal meaning being that all three of the narrators have some form of amnesia.

The narrator for the first ten chapters (part one) is a sixteen year old girl named Leonie, or just Leo, who will steal your money, your car, and your house. She holds no regard for the safety or well-being of anyone who isn't herself, or her sister, Cass, but even that is rare.

Leo finds a photograph one night, of herself, her sister, and a woman with three children. Things escalate from there, as she realizes that she can't remember anything from before the age of nine.

The narrator for the next ten chapters, or part two, is a fourteen year old boy named Jaxon. After an accident when he was eleven, he was left with minor brain damage, the concentration skills of a gnat, and frequent migraines, as well as holes in his memory. He knows he grew up in a lab, he escaped, and he knows that who he lives with now are his siblings.

The third narrator for the last ten chapters is a ten year old boy named Elliot. Or so he assumes, it's what everyone seems to call him. Elliot can't remember what happened, he was only five, but he knows that his mother is dead and that he is missing an eye and that he hates his brothers. With a passion.

Maybe Leo was destined to go to the library the same day as Jaxon, and maybe he was supposed to have met Leo's childhood friends, maybe they were destined to save Elliot from the same place they grew up in, that neither of them can remember. Maybe Elliot was destined to die.

---

Genre: I don't know, sort of mystery-ish in the first ten chapters, and sort of horror, but really light horror. Fantasy, but grounded in reality (main characters are magic, takes place in the real world)

Rating: T. Contains some mature themes, (listed below) but all of it happened in the past, and isn't described in too much detail. Not until the end

Content warnings: Child neglect, child abuse, lab/medical whump I guess, depression, attempted suicide, and overall a bad time (look at the ao3 link its the pinned post)

Characters (in age order otherwise I'll forget one of them)

Logan- 22 year old college student. Everyone's older brother.

Leo- 16 years old. Thievery and crimes. Accidentally gets found family troped

Cass- 16 years old. Leo's twin. Does not do thievery and does not do crimes. Accidentally gets dragged into crimes anyways. Also gets found family troped

Kai- 15 years old. The twin's cousin. The brain cell

Lily- 15 years old. One of Leo's childhood friends. They were close as kids but do not like each other now, for actually no reason, they just sort of don't

Jaxon- 14 years old. Trans. ADHD rat child. Is actually very good around small children, despite being quite possibly the worst influence (besides Leo)

Marcy- 14 years old. Lily with black hair. She will also do crimes and is an enabler for Leo

Dylan- 11 years old. Non binary. Went deaf after an accident related to Jaxon's brain damage

Ryan- 10 years old. Oldest triplet. Autistic, special interest in marine biology. Related to the loss of Elliot's eye

Sam- 10 years old. Middle sibling. Also has ADHD. He's related to Elliot's trauma around staircases

Elliot- 10 years old. Youngest triplet and the youngest character overall. He has PTSD, depression, schizophrenia, dissociative identity disorder, and dissociative amnesia

Update schedule:

Updates twice every week, on Wednesday and Saturday, so far I've posted seven out of thirty chapters, and I have drafted a second book, and I'm making plans for a third.

If you want you can look at the voice headcanons I have for each character here

I also post a lot of things about the characters (headcanons and incorrect quotes and all that)

I am looking through other peoples wip intros so I know what I'm doing so uh... tag list! If you want to be added or removed (probably added given that I did not have a tag list until today) let me know by reblogging or commenting that you wanna be added. Have a good day friends

#wip intro #writing #original work #original characters #writeblr #writers #writeblr community #original fiction #isaac says things related to his writing again

[666mistyday]

Batfam Headcanons pt. 9

They all are really smart like book smart, street smart and everything in between yes all of that, they're big brained bitches but they all enjoy garbage tv once in a while, sometimes your brain needs to rest and their brain cells enjoy taking a break so they be watching keeping up the the kardashians, all of the tlc shows, every shitty reality tv show they can binge watch on their free time.

Bruce has this annoying trait; if he sees any of the kids wearing something remotely a little too often he buys it for himself. Jason's favorite brown leather jacket, boom Bruce bought one that almost looks the same. Dick came to the manor one day with this aviator Ray-Bans, Bruce was spotted wearing the same pair later that week. Tim's favorite winter coat? Now Bruce has it in two different colors. Cass' air pods? Bruce got new ones (also kinda Wayne enterprises has their own). Steph uses crocs all the time so now Bruce has a pair. Duke started wearing a beanie and Bruce had to got his own. Damian's doc martens (the vegan ones of course) Bruce bought his own pair, now this ones hurt a bit but he just wants to be a cool dad (that also thinks his kids look super cool and wants them to relate to him)

Alfred makes a killer milkshake, anything sweet he could turn into a milkshake and it will taste delicious

We have to establish once again that every member can manage how to cook but Alfred being Alfred is the best at doing so, the closest second is Jason. This being said Alf is more like a classic recipes, confort foods, fancy stuff and just imagine a five star restaurant Alfred can make it. He will get a little offended if the kids ask him to do more out of the box recipes but if asked nicely he could give it a try. Jason on the other hand can do almost the same things as Alfred after all he learned from him, but Jason kinda doesn't give a shit and gets more experimental on the kitchen, if bribed enough by his siblings he will do the most unhinged recipes they can find but there's only one condition; they will eat everything despite if its good or not, no wasted food in this household.

They have a family crest. Everyone has a piece of jewelry with the crest on it, they're very discreet. Bruce and Duke have a watch. Dick has a bracelet. Jason has his grandpa's ring. Damian has a necklace. Cass has her grandma's broche. Tim has a pocket watch.

Cass is lactose intolerant and Tim has a peanut allergy.

#bruce is copying his children all of the time and just wants to relate to them #he is unintentionally embarrassing them but he means well #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne al ghul #alfred pennyworth #batfam #batfam headcanons #also all of my batfam hcs are in the wfa universe bc i say a lot of shit and it fits

[dead-finch-420]

Resident Evil Village: Human AU Pt. 2

We're back with more headcanons fellas!

Thanks for the incredible reception on the previous one, your reactions gave one hell of a serotonin boost. But! That's not what you're here for, so let's get on with it shall we?

HEADCANONS BELOW:

Cassandra

Is still a sadist, just not to extreme degrees as seen in-game.

Plays games like chess and poker, preferably in person just to watch her opponent squirm.

Despite her sadism, she is a fiercely protective girlfriend. She'd rather eat her own foot than hurt her S/O, or her sisters (most of the time).

She's also not too fond of animals, at least, not as her other two sisters. This can sometimes be a problem in relationships when her girlfriend has a particularly big dog.

Also a problem in her own house, since their cat, Dunkin (Short for Powdered Dunkin Donuts) likes her very much. She often wakes up choking in cat hair and with a 4.5 kg lump of fur on her face.

Very observant, so observant it pisses Daniela off sometimes, because how do you fuck with someone who knows you too well?

Has the smallest hands.

Bela

Is more sympathetic to plants and animals than she is with people.

"Oh? Daniela split her brow while trying to chokeslam a skateboard? Fascinating."

The only one in her family reliable enough to drive. (Aside from Alcina, of course)

Sleep-deprived because of how much she has to drive her sisters to the hospital at 3 in the morning.

Has to go with her sisters shopping, because Cassandra is too stingy and Daniela sucks at math.

Picked up Dunkin as a stray kitten at the back of a Chili's when she was looking for Daniela. She was foolish enough to let her name the little guy.

Has the biggest hands.

Daniela

Very emotional person, was the one who convinced Bela to adopt Dunkin, unfortunately, also the person who named him.

Because of how emotional she is, she suffers from heartbreak the worst out of the three siblings.

But, easily gets cheered up, especially when surrounded by people she loves.

A golden retriever lesbian, to the tee.

Literally, she likes going on walks, loves head pats and attention, and loves people unconditionally.

Closest to their Uncle Heisenberg, since they share the love for dogs, she likes taking care of them when he's out on business trips.

Her hands are pretty in the middle in terms of size. Has the most cuts on it though.

General

Daniela tried to ride Uncle Moreau's E-bike once, drove straight into a light pole. They were in an empty parking lot, yes, it was recorded by Cassandra.

They don't like K-pop too much, but Bela despises the sound of it, and her two sisters know this. What do they do? When they get into an argument, Dani stomps into her room and plays Love Scenario real f*cking loud, Bela can't say anything because one, she's stubborn, and two, Cassandra managed to convince her it was a form of self-expression, and she wasn't gonna get in the way of that, probably.

Bela and Dani go thrift books together, usually wlw romance novels, but sometimes it involves history and mythology, they buy some astronomy books for Cassandra too.

Cass and Dani go thrift clothes together, but have to drag Bela with them because of the reasons stated above.

Bela and Cass go watch musicals together, and often buy the albums and blast them in their home's music room.

Bela enjoys making music, Cass enjoys acting or writing, Dani enjoys painting.

They always cook together, are they good at it? Absolutely not, but what's Alcina gonna do? Discourage them from a family bonding experience? No, but she has learned to keep a fire extinguisher nearby, which is probably better than nothing.

Cassandra is physically slow, and doesn't exercise much. She's a little self-conscious about it, but on the bright side her bones can do that crackle thingie, and it scares the shit out of Daniela.

Daniela works out the most, often with her Uncle Heisenberg. She does it because she wants to be strong enough to protect her family.

Bela, being the heir to her mother's winery, constantly has to juggle between business and personal life, it often gets mixed up, and gets really stressed out about it. She leans on her family emotionally and throws slumber parties to relax.

These slumber parties are just them making pillow forts in the living room and watching horror movies Heisenberg managed to pirate, and being seconds close to the burning down the kitchen because someone forgot to remove the spoon from the microwave.

In short, they all share the same brain cells, and it's Bela's.

BONUS:

Sorry, lmao, I forgot I wasn't supposed to paint the abs because the cat was gonna be there, got carried away I guess. Didn't wanna put the effort to waste so you're welcome and I'm sorry 🥖🥖🥖

#re8 #my art #resident evil village #lady alcina #lady dimitrescu's daughters #lady dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #human au #resident evil #headcanon #still don't know how to tag

[donnabenevientosimpingzone]

Donna and Angie’s relationship with the Dimitrescu daughters Part 2 (while they are kids)

Overall:

- Mom Ver. 2.0! The daughters ADORE Donna and have mistakenly called her “mom” a few too many times. They all also regard Angie as another sister.

- Protective little feral bug colonies, they might be tiny but they’ll buzz aggressively whenever someone steps too close to Donna or Angie.

- They’re still learning how to use their swarming abilities. Donna and Angie help them in different ways with this obviously.

- Bed time stories with cookies yes please! Lots of family baking time too, Alcina had to scold Donna a few times for feeding her daughters so many treats.

- Both Donna and Angie teach the daughters how to read and write.

- The kids are TERRIFIED of spiders, they learn how to deal with them when they grow up but as children they will scream and duck for cover behind Donna and Angie at the sight of one.

DONNA

Bela:

- Definitely the kid who tries too hard to grow up fast. Donna constantly has to remind her that it’s okay to be a kid and do childish things because she is a kid.

- Despite this, as a child, Bela was surprisingly SUPER dependent and followed Donna around like a lost fruit bat baby.

- Like seriously the baby wouldn’t even eat unless Donna was directly bottle/spoon feeding her.

- Yes her sisters still tease her about it.

- The first one to be in Donna’s lap for bedtime stories. Will shove her sisters off.

- Definitely learned how to read and speak by reading aloud for Donna and listening to her read back.

- But also because of this Bela was the last to speak, she stayed selectively mute as a kid and didn’t learn much of everyday conversation.

- Models for Donna! The kid who asked for her to make outfits with specific designs. Both Donna and Bela still have some of the clothes, and Bela has asked Donna to make adult versions of some of them.

Cassandra:

- Oh yeah, she’s the kid that’s frying ants with a magnifying glass or chasing squirrels up a tree- Donna constantly needs to keep an eye on her.

- Picnics are either sweet and relaxing or spent trying to get Cass down a tree.

- But also because of this, Donna learned how to climb them and sometimes she’ll join Cass in the branches.

- Oddly relaxing.

- The kid who hates being dressed up or pampered at any degree, definitely hisses at Donna whenever she wipes her lips after a meal. The never ending rebellious phase(tm).

- Cass is definitely still a rambler as a kid, the first to speak (coherently) and never shuts up.

- Donna enjoys listening to the little child talk about how she’ll rip off a squirrels tail.

- Surely it’s just child stuff right?

Daniela:

- The second to speak but technically the first cuz she’s the kid who growls and grunts like a fucking animal at everything as a way of communication.

- Donna still knows what certain noises mean and it’s a secret communication between the two of them to this day.

- Definitely the most attention hungry, will climb up Donna’s dress or fall down from the top of the doorframe where she perched waiting.

- Fights with Bela for the spot of Donna’s lap during bedtime stories.

- Begs Donna to make toys for her, she has every single one of them still! Has to sleep cuddling with one of them. Donna still makes her new ones.

- The first child to start the whole “bring random shit to show mom” trend that the sisters all do today.

- Donna still haves a lot of the random stuff Daniela brought/showed her as a kid.

- Also the kid who acted most like a cat.

ANGIE

Bela:

- They’re always hugging, because of how dependent Bela was as a kid, if Donna wasn’t holding her then it’s Angie.

- Definitely the kid who enjoyed listening to Angie’s nonsense rambling.

- Angie’s the one who makes Bela acts more like a kid. As much as it’s trouble for Alcina and Donna, it’s also a relief to know that Bela is enjoying her childhood while she still can.

- Makes accessories with Angie from paper and cardboard for the stupid roleplays all the kids are doing.

- Bela developed her scientific mind as a kid because of Angie, she’ll convince the doll easily to go through all her wack experiments.

- She was skittish and jumpy as a kid, so Angie taught her to be brave and courageous.

Cassandra:

- Squirrel chasing buddies!

- They’re both causing havoc in the trees, the poor birds and squirrels.

- Angie’s the one who gives Cass the terrible ideas.

- The one to teach Cass how to write too, they have similar handwriting to this day.

- Also the one who teaches Cass the bad words and how to fight/hunt, Cass refined the moves as she grows.

- They used to greet each other by striking weird poses and making noises.

Daniela:

- Oh no don’t leave these two alone.

- They were so much more chaotic as kids because Daniela was smaller- lots of nights spent frantically searching the castle for these two.

- One brain cell? Nah they shared a fraction of a brain cell.

- They made their own language, still use it, and it literally consists of animalistic screeching and wild hand gestures.

- But they do eventually learn to greet each other normally, and by normally I mean yelling profanities and insults at each other from across the room.

- If you want Daniela to do something as a kid, you needed Angie with her too. She would never do anything otherwise.

Feel free to add on<3

#resident evil #resident evil village #donna beneviento #angie the doll #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #headcannons

[write-it-down-or-dont]

Batfam as things my family has said:

Dick: “I am literally too pretty for this.”

Jason: “I could kill you with a spoon in six different ways.”

Tim: “I was gonna take up to Calc 4 but then I discovered that college calc is way harder than high school calc.”

Damian: “He likes it (in reference to the cat being draped around his neck like a happy, purring scarf) Don’t fucking touch him or I’ll stab you.”

Duke: “I honestly don’t know what I expected at the dinner table, but throwing rolls at each other from the counter is definitely not it.”

Stephanie: “If anybody needs the washing machine today, get fucked because it’s my turn.”

Cass: “Sometimes, I just want my nail polish as black as my soul.” *grabs the baby pink bottle by mistake*

Kate: “No I don’t want to look cute, I want to look like a lesbian icon.”

Barbara: “(Tim) share the brain cell, (Jason) has finals coming up.”

Bruce: “If any of you were normal, I’d start to think I accidentally adopted you.”

Alfred: “This family is a dumpster fire, and all I have is a squirt gun.”

#the only difference between my family and the batfam is that my parents stayed together #bruce and selina is pretty much their relationship though #not to mention my parents basically adopted all my friends #and all my siblings' friends #batfam #bat family #batman

[bestworstcase]

what about possessed mooncass (rock flavor)

the fanon premise: varying degrees of the moonstone corrupts or overtakes cassandra when she takes it and she in a very literal sense isn’t herself until it’s taken from her again.

i have bones to pick with possessed cass aus in general which all more or less boil down to my thinking that her lack of agency was by far the weakest link in s3 and any au that gives her EVEN LESS agency just makes that…worse. with rock flavor there is the additional issue of “why’s the sundrop not mindfucky then” and the pervasive undercurrent of sundrop good, moonstone bad, which i find to be pretty boring.

1. “possession” here means that the drops—both of them—are powerful cosmic forces whose true nature exists on a level that is simply beyond human comprehension, and for a human to try to harbor one of them is a fast track to getting your brain scrambled. it’s not possession in the sense of the drops taking control—it’s eldritch madness. the mortal mind twists and transcends to glimpse the infinite—worse, to understand the infinite—and leaves forever changed.

2. zhan tiri isn’t really a presence in the narrative after she gives cassandra that little nudge in the shell house. she doesn’t need to be. the moonstone itself, the corrupting maddening amalgam of cassandra’s pain and anger and the eternal sea of the moonstone’s entropy, is more than enough to drive cass into violent confrontation with rapunzel, and zhan tiri very quietly slips free. perhaps she hangs around the fringes to watch what happens; perhaps she doesn’t.

3. either way, intervention by rapunzel and the brotherhood eventually wrench the moonstone away from cassandra. rapunzel serves as the vessel for the sundrop and moonstone’s reunion, obliterated into nothing in the blink of an eye; meanwhile cassandra blinks, and suddenly she’s mortal again.

4. (but she remembers—fractured, fragmented—remembers how it felt to hold the darkness of the whole cosmos inside her head. she will never stop remembering as long as she lives and a part of her will always, always envy rapunzel.)

5. the plot kicks off here: in a corona shattered by cosmic war, a smoking crater where the princess used to be, and cassandra—the traitor, the instigator of it all—dazed into a catatonic state by the shock of losing the moonstone. everyone’s reeling. rapunzel’s friends and family are heartbroken. cassandra is arrested and given a farce of a trial by a royal court very much just going through the motions out of inertia; she herself barely seems to notice.

6. this zhan tiri never wanted the drops for herself, not as demanitus suspected; she wanted them gone. they were protectors—they were shackles, and while they burrowed into the earth they crowded her into the thin edges of twilight. without them she has room to stretch.

7. cassandra hardly registers that she has been sentenced to execution, or that the kingdom is too much in shambles to do any executing. she’s tossed into a cell and left to rot until such time as the gallows can be rebuilt, and given time the tatters of of her thoughts start to knit together around a gnawing, frantic, feverish need to claw her way beyond the limits of humanity again. she knows there was something, some kernel of essential truth, some breathtaking clarity that made all the hurt and all the rage seem painless, a single thread woven into the perfect patterns of everything but she can’t remember what it was and she’s only human now, buried alive under the agony of her feelings.

8. zhan tiri is not like the sundrop and moonstone. (she’s something more primordial, more instinctive than that. something hungrier.) but when the tendrils of her rapidly blossoming influence slip into cassandra’s cell for the first time she does answer that itch.

which makes this fic a rather bleak post-series canon divergent rapunzel dies / is wholly subsumed by the sundrop and moonstone and cassandra dives headfirst onto the road to becoming a zhan tiri cultist au aaand probably does not end well for anyone in corona once cass tears herself out of prison.

#all roads lead to zhan tiri #& she can win this round #as a treat

[waywardimpalawriter]

Could you do a Bucky/Reader fic for 16 on the smut prompts?

The intimacy of shaving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader

Bucky Bingo Square: New haircut square

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Sarah Wilson

Setting: three months after the end of Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Rating: M (Mature), E (explicit), NSFW, +18 only please

Warnings: fluff, angst, bickering, smut, oral female receiving, yearning, pining, unrequited love, smutty dreams, broken bones, mention of torture, Bucky’s old memories,

Word count: 10,800

Summary: Frustrated with being left behind, worry taking hold after finding out just a fraction of how bad your boys are. Making you start to search your feeling's for both men. Especially with the intimacy of giving Bucky a hair cut and shave. Unexpected emotions surface on all parts.

Notes: Sequel too “My own worse enemy," filling in a bingo square for #buckybingo and also an Anon request asking for smut prompt #16 “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.” Hope you don't mind me adding Sam into the mix sweetie. Also for my head cannon Sam uses Delacroix LA for his base of operation. Wanting to help take care of his family while taking on the mantle of Captain America. Hope you enjoyed doll.

Tag list’s: Are open

@buckybingo

Forever’s: @jedi-mando @chickensarentcheap

Bucky Barnes list: @learisa @eclipses-and-moondust

Story list: @sammyissassy @feelmyroarrrr

Wearing a path from the kitchen to living room ignoring Sarah’s stare, thumb nail damn near nibbled to the bed with how much your chewing the poor abused finger. Cell phone pressed to your ear, listening to Sams deep baritone, “What’d ya mean three places Samuel? How the f-ing hell did you both managed to get so banged up?”

“Explanations will roll out once we touch down Y/N for now know at least he didn’t break his funny bone that’s still none existence,” glancing towards Bucky stretched out over the metal helo bench. Right arm in a sling snug to his body, thick plaster cast covering from mid bicep to mid palm, fingers still visible.

“I heard that and I do to have a sense of humor just not your brand of stupid jokes bird brain,” deep voice unmistakably Bucky’s catching a wobble in the cadence not there when last they spoke.

Swiping a hand over your face wanting to kill them both for leaving you behind. Plans to do just that forming in your mind while snarking, “Remind me again why exactly you chose to leave me behind?”

Staying home you could’ve possibly worked with, the unknown danced on your nerves more than you’d give credit to. Having grown even closer to both men over the last six months, always brushing those pesky feelings and thoughts away that surface during weak moments of worry or sleep.

“To dangerous and I’m not arguing with you on those semantics it’s bad enough cyborg got the shit beaten out of him,” quickly pulling the phone from his ear at the high pitched sound from down the line. Forgetting a moment your attachment to both men, “You finished?”

Low growl in answer, biting off the curses you wish to fling at both Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Don’t worry you’re in for it once you get home. ETA?” Checking the watch strapped to your left wrist, “I’ll come pick y’all up, gotta stop in town for supplies anyway.”

“No worries my trucks at base I’ll get Buck and myself home.” Glancing at his watch, “Landing in about two hours, think you can grab a couple of Miss Bridgette’s pecan pies?”

Too many years working with that man not to know what he likes, “For the shit you and Barnes pulled get your own pie man.” Soft chuckles lets you know Sarah heard you. Eyes locking with her’s for a moment seeing the worry in those warm browns matching as you knew in your own. “Just bring you asses home so Sarah and I can roast them.”

Almost feeling the deep groan from over the phone line, “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing since that’s what I got,” shaking head tips to the side picking up on Sam’s easy breathing and the helo’s engines in the back ground. “Just get home dumbass,” affection in your tone. Ending the call, slipping the cell into your front pocket to flop down into the worn out but still comfortable couch.

“They get hurt?” Anxiety tainting her voice from across the room.

Peeking through your fingers at her, dropping them to your thighs to run the length of denim covered skin, “Don’t know really, Sam sounds fine but a concussion or another type of head injury wouldn’t show it’s self right away. From what I did gather they finished up the mission a little over four hours ago, in flight for the last two.”

“What about Bucky?” Meeting your eyes having confided in her years ago about the crush harbored for a certain metal armed ex-assassin turned Cap’s left hand man. Always leaving out the other part of your secret crush. “Speaking of which you ever gonna tell them how you feel?”

“Busting chops about that again Sarah?” Exasperated sigh marches passed barely parted lips, “Something’s broke in three places that’s all Sam ‘Stubborn ass’ Wilson would say. Just not which one of them or what body part exactly.” Firmly ignoring her last question and not picking up on the fact she said them instead of him. To stand hands to hips, leaning back to stretch and possibly pop your spine. “I’m going to town you wanna come or need anything.”

“And you call Sam stubborn,” head shaking with a fond smile tipping her lips upward. Picking up the subtle shift in your demeanor as relief floods your system with knowing they're coming home at least safe. Having guessed your feelings for her older brother not long ago however, keeping that little tidbit to herself. “I’ll come with, give you company and grief along the way. The boy’s won’t come home till later anyway.”

Eyes roll you reach for the car keys on the coffee table, patting your back pocket to check for wallet and the front for cell phone. “Ready to roll?”

Hour and a half later arms loaded with grocery bags, making sure to hide Miss Bridgette’s pie’s from Sam, you and Sarah set to work putting everything away. Setting to work fixing dinner efficiently dancing around each other like a well oiled machine working together in tandem getting each task done. Back door quietly trying to open, Sam poking his head around the well loved oak wood door. Showing a face littered with cuts, a busted bottom lip and dark shadow of a black eye around his left. But his smile still widens flashing pearly whites at seeing the two of you. Entering, Sam places a large locking suit case and round leather carry case not far from the door.

Soft gasp leave’s Sarah’s lips, quickly moving towards her brother to look him over, “You were ugly before now it’s just worse bro.”

Snort existed through his nose, stepping fully into the house with a limp on his right side, accepting the hug she gives him carefully. “You should see the other guy.”

“I’m the other guy,” voice slightly strained but still light almost playful unlike the Bucky of months ago. Though seeing him coming around Sam, arm cradled close in a black cloth sling. Peeks of plaster noticeable making you groan, head shaking at the very sight of him. Assortment of bruises littered his face, his own busted lip, and a three inch cut circling just above his collarbone. Seeing the storm brewing in your eyes, “No we didn’t fight and Sam didn’t cause these wonderful souvenirs.”

“Stupid ass got captured, wouldn’t listen to my plan…”

“You didn’t have a plan Sam not a logistical one…”

“Oh, so you bulldozing in like a raging bull in a China shop worked so well. Who got capture?” Pressing a finger behind his ear to lift the shell listening for Bucky’s answer. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you. You’re gonna say you right Robo soldier cause that’s the correct answer.”

Exasperated with them both, “Shut it and sit down dinner’s ready. I swear the two of you fight worse than Cass and AJ.” Authority ringing through Sarah’s tone cutting eyes at both men.

“Oh sweetheart Cass and AJ have nothing on these two bone heads, more maturity in their little bodies than both of them put together.” Rubbing your temples trying to fend off the building migraine behind your eyes. “Listening to constant bickering I wanna put them in a ‘Get along shirt.'”

Scowl in place while giving them a full once over. Cataloguing the damage you could see and wondering about that which you couldn’t. Noticing the length of Bucky’s hair almost a shaggy just falling a little over his ears and brushing the collar of the black t-shirt he’s wearing. Full beard dusting his cheeks and chin reminding you of those days long gone back in Wakanda. In contrast to Sam’s neatly kept mustache and goatee, close cropped haircut smartly framing his handsome face. Looking much like the day he and Bucky left three months ago on their reconnaissance mission. Knowing better as looks deceive and clothes cover up places eyes can’t see without stripping them naked. The very thought peeking interest but pushing those thoughts back with a frown. Of course it doesn’t stop you from wanting to hug them both mindful of injures unseen that brings a scowl to your features.

“You wouldn’t?” Traces of fear slicing through those deep russet browns. “I thought you loved me Y/N?”

Speaking over Sam, “What’s a ‘Get along’ shirt?”

Caught between wanting to roll her eyes and chuckle, “It’s a big shirt we’d put the two of you in till ya stop bickering like children and actually get along.” Dishing up dinner, Sarah looks towards both men. Trying hard not to burst out laughing at the sour look on Sam’s face nor the still slightly confused one on Bucky’s.

“I see smoke coming from his ears,” snarky quip receiving a back handing smack to his arm.

Bowel’s placed at the table, “Aim for the head next time Sar.” Taking the seat on Sam’s right offering him a cheekily smile, “Might actually knock the few brain cells he has left around and jump start the hamster running the wheel.”

“You both wound me,” clutching his chest dramatically. “With friends and family like this who can you trust.”

“Dramatic’s must come with handling the shield,” cerulean eyes rolling edged with teasing tone. Glancing towards Sam first then you beside him, going to explain for Sarah’s benefit. “Steve could put on some high melodrama back in the day. Much like Samuel here.” Scratching at his chin with vibranium fingers, a low hiss only you catch sounds when the plates catch the little hairs.

Scoffing, “Only Sarah calls me that first off, second look who’s talking Mr. Bionic Staring machine scaring off everyone who comes within two feet. Dramatics run through your veins just as well. ”

“Children,” both women exclaim hands coming down to slam the table at the same. Before time digging into dinner as the back door opens with Cass and AJ storming inside with excited chatter upon seeing both Sam and Bucky.

Each asking about what happened, how’d the mission go and why exactly Bucky’s sporting a sling and cast. All questions peeking the interested of both women with brows raised and narrowed eyes.

“Settle in first and eat dinner,” Sam intones wanting to keep most of what happened from his family. “For the most part the mission went successful.”

Very unladylike snort leaves your nose hidden behind a glass of sweet tea you sip from, “At least you came back in one piece or three in someone’s case.” Eyes narrow even farther on Bucky who has the good graces to look sheepish and divert his eyes.

“But the super serum why didn’t it help like that,” AJ snapped his little fingers for emphasis on the quickness the serum should work or so he thinks.

“Doesn’t quiet work that way AJ,” Bucky starts running a hand through his longer than usual hair. Giving a short frustrated tug before returning to the topic at hand. “Yeah the serum helps speed up the healing process it’s not instantaneous and,” pausing to side eye you not wanting to admit there’s more injures than just his arm.

Scowl returning having a feeling you know why he’s paused in explaining, “Takes longer to heal when multiple injures are involved.”

Dinner finishes with other questions, skirting the full truth about the mission, discussing the coming week with work and school. Sam’s boyish smile appears when Sarah brings out the pie, cutting out slices to pass around with Reddi-whip, coffee for the adults, milk for the kids. Silence settles for a moment the enjoyment of pie more important to savor and only once done do you raise to start cleaning up.

“I’ll,” shooting Sarah a look with a shake of your head.

“You got paperwork to catch up on babe I’ve got this, besides Sam volunteered to help. Didn’t you Sam?” Shooting a look his way, clearly speaking volumes if the answer comes back no.

Brow arched in question but thought better then to ask, though he flips the script on you, “Of course, Bucky volunteer’s.” Quickly moving away from the hand threatening to land a hard punch to his right thigh. Almost toppling to the floor in his hast to move Sam tweaked his hip a twinge of pain slicing through his features.

“Serves you right Wilson,” thought a slice of regret skates across your thoughts. Head shaking you stand gathering plates as the boys excuse themselves to play video games.

“Homework first or I’m taking those games away,” Sarah yells after them looking in your direction for a second. “You got these two?” Pointing at each of them in turn with her own frown dropping her lips downward.

“Sadly yes,” exasperation clearly written in the rigidness of you stance and narrowing to slits of your eyes. “Blissfully unaware or want to know everything?”

“Unaware I’m just happy their back whole,” nodding Sarah takes her leave, heading for the home office.

Times flown, six months in fact since Karli’s death and Sam taking over the mantle of Captain America. Going above and beyond to change how the worlds become and see’s the shield. Using Delacroix as home base to keep himself grounded and around for his family. Surprisingly enough including you and Bucky the house feels a touch over crowded but wouldn’t want things any different.

“Care to explain what that means?” Limping with hands full towards the sink, Sam places his arm load down watching you move around the kitchen. Putting leftovers up, setting to work on the dishes, the familiarity you exude warms a place in Sam’s heart. Always pushing those thoughts from his mind, your his best friend and wouldn’t see him in any other way. Especially with your heart firmly filled with Bucky.

Giving your back to both men and only acknowledging their presence when Bucky comes over with a bowel. “Thanks,” leaves your lips with a nod.

“We’re sorry for leaving you behind Y/N, but Sam and I agreed things were to dangerous neither of us wanted you to get hurt,” trying to reason Bucky leans his back against the counter beside you. Tugging once again at his too long hair that gets slightly tangled in the plates of his fingers.

“You actually agreed on something?” Catching his actions, your head shakes grabbing for the towel to dry soapy hands and help with his dilemma. “Instead you both come back looking like train wreck’s all beaten, broken and bruised. With a busted arm,” finished with untangling his fingers to point at his arm. Whirling around to assess Sam who’s trying not to put weight on his right leg, “Banged up hip and God know what else internally. Neither one of you are spring chickens for heaven’s sake.”

“Don’t know what your talking about Y/N? I’m not a day over twenty-five,” taking an aim to make you smile and ease the tension in your shoulders. Frown appearing when your countenance doesn’t change but deepens, “Talk to the resident Centurion who got his ass captured and tortured for over a week.”

Low growl leaves your lips pursed together in a grim line, “Do either of you think about the consequences of your actions? Of what’ll happen without either of you in this God forsaking world?” Tossing your hands up and turning back to dish washing, something to keep from chocking the life outta the two of them, or spilling your inner most thoughts. Afraid to loose either man the very thought making your heart clinch painfully in your chest, breathing picking up as tears gloss over your eyes. Plates clang loudly, forcefully slamming them into the drying rack making both men wince at your actions.

“Y/N,” coming up behind you large warm hands carefully rest on tense shoulders. Aware of your feelings for a certain cyborg the thought a little bitter to take but Sam resigns himself to the role of best friend. “We’re sorry really,” taking a breath and clearing his throat wanting to make amends and explain. “We thought, planned, things just…”

“Went to shit around us, it’s not like Sam or I wanted to get the crap beating out of us doll it just,” shrugging vibranium hand coming to rest on your shoulder beside Sam’s. “Got complicated.”

Taking a deep breath drawing in the scents of Sam’s citrus and cider wood cologne you couldn’t put your finger on naming, mixing with Bucky’s old world sandalwood base cologne of 4711. Eyes close for a moment blinking back the tears, and to gather thoughts, righting them in an order that makes sense. Trying to keep out the feelings currently jumbling up your brain. “I know,” body sags back against Sam’s strong chest while unconsciously leaning towards Bucky’s hand. “Neither of you will do that shit again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Not if things go dark side like this time, we’re not putting you in harms way,” feeling you stiffen Sam steps back, Bucky’s hand drops back to his side when you whirl on the man behind you. Stance ridge and firm, Sam crosses his arms adding his own glare and not backing down. “My decision is final on the matter and no amount of arguing will change that.”

Understanding Sam’s position, however the thought of staying behind, waiting to find out if… no you push those thoughts aside. “Mine, that’s who makes the choice not either of you,” heat of annoyance flaring to life as you look between the two men. “Knowing what I signed up for, choose to stick around and help put this broken blue marble we call home back together. I won’t sit out the next mission we clear on that?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, barely audible hiss leaves Bucky’s lips at having hair yanked out by the roots. Though his voice is steady when asking, “Why did you stick around? Thought once Walker handed over the shield, the Flag smashers agenda crashed and burned you’d skip out on the next train back to normal.” Not that he minded of course, in fact Bucky rather enjoyed your company, reminded him of those first months out of cryo getting to know each other. Plus his questions distracted you from getting an answer that won’t satisfy.

“I have my reasons,” giving a half hearted shrug you turn back to finishing up the dishes not really wanting to explain. Not fully sure yourself why you’ve stuck around though deep down you know it has to do with both men. “Reasons neither of you need to know.”

Sharing a look with Bucky, “Don’t pull that shit with us sweetheart you demand answers now we ask the same in return.”

Sure they still argued like an old married couple but a begrudging understanding has built between the pair, coming to an almost friendship neither would fully admit to. Both wanting to protect the small family friend’s circle patched together like grandma’s old quilt. Tattered, frayed and a few wholes but well loved and always cared for. Eyes landing back on you to watch the forward slump of your shoulders rounded inward along with your chin dropped to your chest.

“I have the two of you house broken,” idea forming to steer the conversation away. “Don’t need that headache on repeat and I wouldn’t leave the two of you bone heads alone to kill each other or drive poor Sarah crazy,” quicker than either can react you’ve scooped up hand fulls of soap bubbles to smash into both their faces. Deflecting the conversation away from having to answer and lightening the mood. Or so you hoped with the playfully murderous looks both men shoot you. Skirting Sam’s grabby hands heading to put the kitchen table between yourself, Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Now boys that’s just all in good fun and your both hurt so I suggest you think about your actions before retaliating.”

Wiping the remains of soapy bubbles from his face, thick fingers making wet tracks over denim to dry hands. Sam edges a little closer intent on trying to snag your arm. That ghosts through his fingers, “For now but remember paybacks a bitch sweetheart.” Bright smile tugs his full lips, head shaking though he knows there’s so much more your hiding from both he and Bucky. One day he’ll crack that secret you hold so dear, for now Sam lets you cling tightly.

Watching him go you turn towards Bucky who’s smirk sets you back a moment. “I don’t think I like that look Barnes,” arms crossed mustering a half glare. “Sam’s right you really can see the smoke rising from your head.”

“Hahaha that jokes getting old,” light hearted quip falling from his lips, eyes raking your form as you near the sink. Catching you looking between finishing the dishes and making sure Bucky’s not going to retaliate. “I come in peace promise besides I’m too old for revenge I’ll leave it to you young whipper snappers,” throwing his voice to sound like an old man.

Laughter rings full and deep from your parted lips, soapy hands gripping the sink to keep from toppling over in mirth. His own chuckle exists on a grin, cerulean eyes taking in how carefree you look. Tension and worry melted away with his well played grandpa joke. Making Bucky wish he got to see you like this more often but then he remembered why he never searched. Why he left you alone and only within the last ten or so months managed to reconnect the missing dots in his life. Sure there’s still blood on his hands he tries to scrub clean with each mission, to make those amends and not just avenge. But truly help people in ways that didn’t require lead or blood.

Still wondering, so he gives voice to those thoughts, “Why didn’t you go back to your life doll?” Feeling he’s perpetuated a grave error in asking the question but a part of him wants. No needed the answer to know why you’d give up a happy life for one of danger and uncertainty with him and Sam.

Sobering, his question hitting you like a ton of cement bricks keeping you from turning to face him. Wincing when another hiss echos around inside your head from your right side. “Tell you what Buck you let me cut that hair and beard of yours I’ll answer your questions.”

“I get you don’t… wait… what?” Not sure he’d heard you right. Pain making a return to fog his brain for the moment as throbbing radiates across his broken clavicle to the dislocated shoulder, dancing along the fractured radius and painfully tingling his fingers. Soft curse exists his lips reminding himself to take Sam’s suggestions next time though he wouldn’t let the other man know. “Don’t happen to have any pain meds do ya doll?”

Eyes narrow, “Which parts did they break?” Holding up a hand to stop him from answering while you head towards your room. Grabbing up the small med kit Sharon gave you months back for times like these. Pausing to scoop up the hair scissors and trimer, along with a shaver and cream, both of which belonging to Sam. “Now you were saying?”

Placing everything on the table, unzipping the medium size unassuming black bag pulling out a small bottle to pop the top and wiggle out two pills. Handing those over to Bucky who just stares at them resting in his metal palm.

“Trying to kill me doll?” Teasing tone to the cadence of his words while popping them into his mouth and excepting the glass of water. Downing in one go and handing it back, “Never did like pills reminds me of Steve.”

Resting a gentle hand on his bad shoulder, “If I tried to kill ya Buck you’d see it coming,” snickering at the wide eyed look he gives you. Sobering with understanding filled eyes that stay locked with his, “I’m sorry it”s not my intentions to bring up the past.” Moving to put the glass down, you stay at the sink looking out over the backyard, orange and reds dancing over the rippling surface of the bayou. Sinking sun creating a cornucopia of color heralding the on coming twilight and the end of another day.

“You didn’t Y/N,” coming to stand next to you watching the golden ball of life giving light slowly sink into the horizon. On the tip of his tongue to speak about Steve, the abandonment he felt acutely with the absence of his best friend. Slowly filled by your present, that of Sam’s and his family. “I guess ‘Till the end of the line’ meant just till he could get back to who he really missed.” Anguish heard loudly through soft spoken words not meant for your ears but once uttered there’s no going back.

Out of your peripheral vision you study Bucky for a moment heart breaking for the man who’s lost so much to then fully face him. His own gaze staying straight ahead staring unseen out the window with tan lace curtains framing the coming twilight. Over head light casting shadows in the hallows and angles of his features, bringing out the bruises highlighting the cuts, making your heart ache for this man in ways you’ve tried to push aside. Ways you didn’t want it to feel in case of rejection but couldn’t help the tightening in your chest nor the want to embrace and hold Bucky close.

“Come on,” without thinking your hand slips into his vibranium palm tugging till he follows and only dropping to scoop up trimmer, combs and scissors before heading out the back door.

For a moment Bucky stood there thankful to Shuri for the ability to feel warmth and the weight of your hand in his vibranium limb. The very thoughts your simple gesture conjures damns his heart making it beat triple time. When your head pops back around the door sweet smile crossing those kissable lips. Bucky has to remind himself you’re off limits friends nothing more and to breath. Your beauty stealing the air from his lungs, making it hard to focus on anything except your present.

Catching the out of focus look in his cerulean eyes mind swirling with questions as to what he’s thinking about. “You gonna stand there taking root or get your silly ass out here,” motioning with a jerk of your head over your shoulder smile still firmly in place. Making sure he’s actually moving before existing to place a stool about middle of the back porch. Patting the hardwood barstool then reaching up to tug on the pull string as light floods the area casting a bright glow.

Transfixed for a moment in the doorway with the peek of skin allowed to his eyes. Your heather grey band shirt riding up teasingly tormenting him. Cursing internally, tongue trapped between indenting teeth to keep the sounds at bay. Till the hard slap of your palm against wooden seat draws his attentions and he robotically takes the seat. Stiffening with the fluttering of a barber’s cape hating to have things around his neck. Only to settle once you have it in place and buttoned reminding him your not there to hurt or torture him. Fingers brushing lightly over the exposed skin of his neck, creating goosebumps to dance across his flesh.

“Not too tight?” Gently running nimble fingers through his hair, blunt nails scratching the scalp. Finding it hard to keep from rubbing into your hands and fighting the urge to purr with each pass. You work the larger knots out carefully, pulling a comb from the back pocket of your jeans to run through his hair. “You with me Buck?”

“Hmm?” Simple noise issues from the back of his throat lost in the tingling sensations your fingers bloom across his body. Wanting to chase the feeling bringing peace to his mind much like the soft cadence your voice takes on with the intimacy surrounding the two of you. Sweet chuckle music to his ears and snaps him back to now, noticing you’ve paused your hands waiting for a response, “Sorry no I’m good.”

“Enjoying yourself Barnes?” Teasingly quipped while adjusting the cape to cover his back. Making sure all his hair lays over the edges and carefully combing out the smaller knots your fingers missed. Secretly enjoying the soft chestnut strands as they curl around your fingers. Massaging his scalp hoping to relax his tense posture when a particularly stubborn knot has you accidentally giving a not so gentle tug. Garnering a low moan from the man in front of you. “Sorry Buck,” working the knot out with a little more care taking the sound as one of pain.

Throat clearing, thankful his crotch is currently covered to not give away the secret he’s concealing. Praying to all the heavens you’ve taken the moan as one of pain instead of pleasure that’s surfing through his veins with a simple hair pull. “Yes, and it’s fine,” words pushed passed lips held taunt to keep from letting any sound out. Searching his mind for a topic to settle on, willing his body to stop reacting to the warmth of yours.

Each brush of fingers sends heat flaring to life along his nerves. Knowing the pain killers don’t worked through his system that quickly. Yet, the throbbing ache once present has diluted to a low annoying thump with the heat of your hands on his cotton covered shoulder. Wanting to lean back into your body but holds himself ridge from doing something stupid like enjoying the moment. Therefore clears his throat, “You’ve got me at your mercy doll ready to answer my questions?”

“Should I worry what you’ll ask?” Moving from behind him to head back into the kitchen. Grabbing the empty spray bottle to fill with warm water and head back out.

Eyes close with the first spritz of water, chin dropping to chest as you work to wet his hair. “Why?”

“Why what?” Knowing what he’s asking, your distracted for a moment putting the spray bottle’s trigger through a belt loop incase its needed once your satisfied with the wetness of his hair. “I’ll need more specifics than just why. Why’s the sky blue? Why’s it so damn hot? So many why questions you gotta stop wasting your breath Buck.”

“Cheeky doll very cheeky you know damn well what I mean,” keeping his head still to prevent you from severing an ear.

Smirking, setting to work on trimming up the top back portion of his head, trying to keep from childishly making faces. “Sure don’t Sarge.”

Groan slipping passed before he’s able to trap and swallow the sound at the off handed use of his military rank. Wondering which deity had it out for his ass today. Cursing the fact he’s let you so close to breath in the flowery scent of your body. Gentle use of those skilled fingers through his hair not making things any better for the growing problem tenting his jeans. Returning to himself when you move to his left shortening the hair over his ear. “Why’d you stay with us? I thought,” remembering those painful words back in Madripoor. “I thought you had a happy life to go back to.”

“Ear hustling Barnes?” Switching sides and glancing down with a raised brow you know he doesn’t see.

Looking up to try and catch your eye your focus on cutting his hair makes the attempt impossible. So he settles on, “Don’t know what you mean doll. Just asking a question,” trying to hold the shiver at bay when your fingers brush over the shell of his ear.

“Since your asking it means you didn’t hear everything Sam and I talked about,” thankful that’s the case or things would get a whole lot complicated. “I lied.”

Head whipping to the side so quickly you fear he’s damaged his neck with the wince taking over his handsome features. “Lied why?”

“Reasons,” ‘Ones I won’t tell you James,’ speaking the last words in your mind, careful probing fingers check for anything popped out. Garnering a hiss of pain when you’ve found the break in his clavicle. “What did you break besides the hamster running your wheel brain?”

Bitting off the curse as pain flared over his right side. Gritting out, “Clavicle, dislocated shoulder, fractured radius, you can see the cuts and bruises so take it a little easy on this old man.”

“How… Why did you get captured?” Worry fights fear both dance with anger marching through your veins as a Thanksgiving Day parade band would down the streets of New York City. The very thought of both your men hurt and so far away from home torn a hole in your heart. Thoughts you try to push away and focus on the job of cutting Bucky’s hair.

Finishing up what you could on the back of his head, Bucky feels you come around to the front. Knees spread to accommodate your body, closing his eyes to keep from staring at your breasts. Licking suddenly dry lips with having you extra close, he tries to gather an answer to your question. “We needed an in so I made a decision.”

“One I’m sure Sam disagreed on,” carding your fingers through the top, snipping pieces checking length. Jealous over how soft his hair feels between your digits. Woodsy pine scent reaching your nose that twitches in pleasure at the fragrance matching what you always thought he’d smell like.

“Yeah well we ran out of time doll. Couldn’t let what remains of LAF get away,” eyes quickly open only to slam shut again with having you still too near for his own good.

Every brush of your fingers, thighs brushing against his with every move, your flowery scent wrapping around his heart to squeeze tight. Breath punched from his lungs when your knee makes slight contact with his erection. Shooting pleasurable fireworks off behind his closed lids. Wishing for your hands on his body, wondering what they’d feel like over bare skin. If you’d shy away from the scars littering his flesh or… he wouldn’t, didn’t need to think about the alternative.

Unsure why he gasped you move from between his legs and look upon his face confused as to his ridge posture eyes held tightly closed. Insecurities rushing through your mind, setting up shop to remind you no man let alone someone as handsome as Bucky would ever want to look at you. Shoving back those thoughts to ask, “You okay Bucky?”

“Fucking fabulous doll,” bitting out the words while trying to reign in the need to grab hold of your hips, bringing you back against him. Wanting to find out if you’d fit as good or better than what he’s imagined during those dream filled nights he doesn’t talk about with anyone. “Finished?” Praying you’ll say yes, the temptation becoming almost unbearable.

Unconvinced by his words but pushes that aside and stepping farther back to round him, grabbing up the trimmer on the way with a numbered comb. “Almost but then I still have your beard to do.”

“Fuck,” low gravely voice intones the single word hoping you’ve not heard and cursing the heaven for this test of his will and desires. In another life Bucky wouldn’t have hesitated to ask you out, wine and dine with dancing till midnight. Taking you home with a simple kiss of promise with more to come. But he’s different now and you don’t deserve to have a broken man on your hands.

Swallowing harshly to cover your growing need to escape and bury yourself in another program or book to distract from those awful thoughts running around in your mind. Replaying all the brush offs and look aways as rejection shattering your heart. Pushing you to finish his new hair cut that much quicker. “Done, now how short you want your beard?”

“Gone,” knowing exactly what he’s saying and damning himself to the torture of a different kind.

Coming back in front of him, you slip between his parted knees so easily a thought you try to push away while switching the trimmer combs and flicking the on button. Carefully cupping his left cheek while shortening the right for a closer shave once your done. “Surely you didn’t just let them capture you.” Returning to a safer subject other than how good his bearded jaw felt in your warm palm. Wondering how it’d feel in other places.

“Offered myself up for a little bloody torture and a few broken bones. I’m here to tell the tale instead of those guys Y/N. They're off the streets and we have the information needed to finish taking down LAF.” Teeth gritting to keep from rubbing his jaw into your palm, from turning to kiss the center and devour you with his mouth.

Pausing a moment, “But you could’ve gotten killed James.” Sorrow coloring the cadence of your tone, eyes filled with fear at what could’ve happened. “You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped.”

Heart stopping, never had you spoken his first name, always Bucky or Buck, Barnes when your angry but never James. Opening his darken cerulean orbs breath trapped somewhere between lungs and mouth at the sorrow written deep in those eyes he never could not stare into. Heart hammering back to life with the subtle brushing of your fingers over his cheek, “Would it have matter?”

Confusion tips your head to the side, “What you dying or me helping?”

“Dying,” single word dropped like a bomb destroying everything in the path.

“James,” softly spoken with so much emotion held within the countenance of your features. Watching the ghosts float through those beautiful cerulean eyes, memories of a time he couldn’t control, of deeds done to people who didn’t deserve the pain and death he dealt out as the Fist of Hydra. Tears gloss over your eyes once again trying to blink them away to keep them from clogging your emotions filled throat. “It matter’s Barnes, matters to a lot of people you’re just too stubborn to realize that.” Shaking your head to clear the fog and get back to work.

Speechless Bucky just sits there letting you finish up trimmer the hair away as if trying to erase the past months, the torture he let happen with no regard to his personal well being. During this time your words chase around his mind, combined with Sam’s out right demand of him to never put himself in harms way like that again. Adding more questions added than any true answers. Delicate fingers brush over trimmed facial hair bringing him back to the present right as you move to take the barber’s cape from around his neck. Missing the warmth of your touch, heat radiating from your body, your scent filling his nose and making him drunk on you.

Folding the cape to drape over your arm, “I’ll shave you as well come back inside.” Voice slightly rough with unshed tears avoiding looking directly at Bucky and missing the longing written in the ocean pools. Mistaking his lack of response for rejection of your words and feelings. You enter the house placing the small hand load down and moving a chair over towards the sink. Returning to grab up the shaving cream and razor, pulling a fresh wash cloth from the draw by the sink too wet it hot.

“You don’t have to,” entering and closing the back door with the heel of his boot. Bucky leans against the counter watching you with a closed expression. Pain dull but still worming its way through his veins along with so many thoughts.

Glancing his way, “I know,” motioning with a wave of your hand, “but if I don’t that beard’ll come back in short order and we’ll have to do this all over again.” Going for playful to ease the tension built from the lingering words of out on the porch, “Bring your ass over here Buck.”

Your change in mood has a confused frown pulling his mouth down but complies with the order. Taking up the seat with spread legs and turned up face watching you wring out the wash cloth. Using your elbow and tipping his head back to gently place the hot cloth around what’s left of his beard to soften the hair and wake up the pores. Catching the small muffled groan, “To hot?”

“No, perfect,” faintly hearing the two simple words you grab up the shaving cream to put a generous amount in your palm before pulling the quickly cooling cloth from his face. Tossing it towards the sink and applying a layer of cream to his skin. Left overs rinsed from your hands quickly before drying and grasping the razor with steady hands. “Just a little off the top if you please,” boyish smirk slips over his lips tipping cream covered cheeks up while trying to be funny.

Eyes rolling, “To late for that one top’s already taken care of.” Using the pad of your thumb to push the skin of his cheek taunt. Carefully dragging the razor over his flesh intending to keep your gaze directed towards working the blade over his check. However, you’re unable to do so while cleaning the razor as your eyes dart up catching the fact Bucky’s gaze firmly rests on your face. Heat blooming across your body, eyes drop back to his cheek intent on getting finished quickly to avoid any farther embarrassment.

Meanwhile Bucky maps every feature of your face, the slant of your nose, set of your eyes, cupids bow of your top lip. Visions of drawing the plump flesh in for a bite and pull before letting go with a wet pop, filter through his mind. Finding himself in a rather precarious predicament, thighs spread to accommodate your body, his palms itch to grasp and tug you into his lap. Bitting back a moan each touch brings, the gentleness tearing a new hole in armored covered heart. Wanting to keep you out but finding it harder to do every time you show the kindness his life lacked for decades.

Minds eye drawing the curves of your cheeks, lips twitching to caress, fingers tapping trapped in plaster and cloth against his body. Wanting to brush his knuckles over your throat to gently grasp the back of your neck and bring your lips against his for a slow sweet drink of the tempting cavern of your warm mouth. Only snapping back to reality with the soft brush of your fingers along his jawline.

Searching for any hairs left behind, soothingly palming his cheeks with cool hands desperate to taste his skin. Drag your lips over the same spots the razor just graced. Teasing the tip of your tongue along the hard edge of his jaw to place a kiss just below his ear. Tempted to even suck a mark for everyone to see. You swallow harshly removing your hands from his cheeks to rinse and warm up the cloth to clean off any residual shaving cream from his face.

“Finished,” clearing your emotions clogged throat, stepping towards the sink, your profile the only side Bucky sees as you work to clean up the mess.

Feeling rather than hearing him stand heat radiating of his body just a few inches shy of brushing against yours. “Thank you doll,” impulsively leaning forward to brush his lips over your cheek. Lingering longer than he should but unable too stop himself from pressing soft slight chapped lips to the corner of your mouth. “Next time I need shavin’ I know who to come too,” breathing the words before pulling away, taking his leaving quickly to keep from doing something even stupider. Like wrap you up into his arms and actually kissing those pillow soft lips. Backdoor swinging closed a little harder than he meant in his bid to get away from your warmth and tempting body.

Frozen in place, skin tingling from just that slight press while your heart beats almost out of your chest. Pounding against your rib cage so hard fear it’ll crack a rib any second now. White knuckles grip the sinks edge, heat flaring across your body to pool low and throb through your lady parts. Thighs unconsciously rub together needing friction to alleviate the ache growing between your legs.

“Did you cut him or take a hunk of hair out and now he looks like Frankenstein monster?” Teasing tone to his quip, Sam enters the kitchen still staring at the back door. Having watched the exchange from the darkened hallway. Reverting his eyes to your back, taking in the ridge posture of your spine with a slight very subtle shake. “Y/N what’s wrong?” Swiftly coming up behind you, hands gripping your shoulders to turn you around. “Did Bucky say or do something wrong?” Worry creasing his brow the want to hold you close growing with each second your not in his arms.

Looking up into the kind russet eyes flashing with concern and worry, “No,” head shaking, “no he didn’t Sam just…” unable to stop yourself from burying your body against Sam’s firm chest. Trying to figure out how to explain what’s running around in your head. The indecision, thoughts you know shouldn’t roll through your mind doing just that as your arms wind around his trim waist.

“Just what sweetheart?” Wanting to help smooth things over between his two best friends even if it meant swallowing his own feelings.

Keeping your eyes closed, breathing in his cedar wood and citrus scent, burying your nose against his collarbone. Always able to calm the raging storm of emotions boiling through your veins. Confusion setting in with those same tingles you feel when Bucky touches you now dances across your body at the warmth of Sam’s arms cradling you close. Reminding you of earlier when his chest pressed to your back strong hands gently placed on your shoulders. The shiver you suppressed at the touch of both men. At the memory your eyes pop open and you quickly push away from Sam as if he’s burnt you. Needing to escape and figure out what’s going on.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter, I’m sorry,” feet quickly taking you from the kitchen into the safe arms of your bedroom.

Missing the confused look marring Sam’s face that turns into hurt at the way you’ve shoved him aside. Body sagging against the counter, hand rubbing at the back of his neck searching for what’s changed in such a short period of time.

“Men, blind and just plain foolish,” landing a hard hit to his shoulder, which he rubs to alleviate the pain. Sarah comes up beside her older brother with a raised brow. “Still don’t get it? Searching for exactly why she reacted so strongly? Think Samuel use that big brain you have and actually put it to good use.”

Frown creasing between his eyes and drawing his lips down, “Left behind sucks Sarah that’s all it amounts to. But we… I couldn’t have her along, wouldn’t risk her life like that.”

“Has nothing to do with leaving her home Sam,” giving him a meaningful look that still bewilders him. “Why didn’t you want her along but you took Bucky with you?”

“He’s a super soldier Sar he can take the hits not that I want him hurt either. Shit when he let himself get captured,” moving towards the abandoned chair to plop down heavily. “He scared the living shit outta me, I thought…” hard to swallow the memories of watching those men pulling an unconscious Bucky into a van. Driving off before he could plant a tracker and barely able to get up with bruised ribs making breathing painful. Sam runs a hand over the short hair unsure when things got so complicated between the three of them.

Pulling up a chair in front of Sam, “You’d lost him?” Seeing the nod Sarah’s features softened knowing from the tell’s she picked up watching the three of them for so long. “You love them?”

“What?” Head whipping up so quickly making Sam wince. “Of course I do but not like that I mean their family, you know I’ll do anything to protect my family.”

Hand resting on his shoulder, “You keep telling yourself that big bro maybe one day you’ll actually believe it and able to push those feelings away good enough to keep them at arms length.” Looking up at her, “Just a word of advice,” seeing him nod, “don’t push those emotions away, you deserve that love they both would readily give you.”

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

Softly closing the door behind you heading towards the ensuite bathroom for a nice cold shower, preforming your nightly routine, and shutting off every light except the one beside your bed. Falling into the soft mattress with your current book keeping you company for the rest of the night. Eyes start to droop, words blur and you read the same sentence half a dozen times. Book falling against your chest as a yawn takes over your features.

Body stretching out against cool sheets jumping when a soft knock echos around your room, eyes darting towards the clock to see its just a little passed mid night. Slowly getting out of bed, pulling the extra long dark blue with little pink flowers dotting the sleep shirt down to cover your ass and thighs. Thinking its Sarah checking on you, eyes shocked wide with the small crack you open the door to spy Bucky standing there fidgeting.

“Everything all right Buck?” Opening the door wider to lean against the casing arms crossed just under your breasts.

Swallowing, glancing from your eyes to lips repeatedly. Trying to form the words he wants to speak when the decision makes itself clear and Bucky surges forward. Gently wrapping vibranium fingers around the back of your neck and bragging you against his strong chest. Slanting his lips against yours, nipping your bottom lip to make you gasp and slipping his eager tongue passed into the warm depths of your mouth. Leading the kiss and praying he’s not wrong.

Rewarded by your arms winding around his neck careful of his injures. Fingers tugging at the now shorten strands thanks to your expect hands. Garnering a low moan from the depths of his chest, one that rambles with a pleased hum as you return the kiss. Tangling your tongues together making nothing soft nor gentle about this melding of mouths. Only breaking apart for both of you to gasp for air.

“No, nothing’s all right doll. I can’t stop thinking about you,” resting your foreheads together sharing common air. Fingers at the base of your skull massaging the tension with surprisingly easy pressure. “I’d done fighting, done pushing you away, I need you Y/N.”

“James?” Lips tingling from a kiss you’ve only dreamt about as confusion marring your tone, eyes blinking a few times to make sure you’ve pushed the sleepy haze from your mind.

Soft groan issues at hearing you whisper just first name, hand slipping down to wrap around your waist and pull your taut to his body. “If…” trying to push the next words past his lips, “if you don’t want…”

“Us, we need to know now sweetheart. We won’t push you into anything you don’t want,” Sam’s voice full of desire and longing cuts across Bucky’s for a moment.

Making you look up from eyes locked with Bucky to stare at Sam trying to process his words, the look in those beautiful russet eyes you can’t pull yours away from. Till Bucky presses a kiss to just below your ear, “We know it’s a lot to take in doll and you can say no…”

“I,” gulping like a fish out of water, heat thumping through your veins at the unspoken promise both sets of eyes show. “I don’t know what to say.”

Stepping forward to push you back a step so Sam can fully enter your bedroom and close the door. He comes behind you sandwiching your body between two walls of muscle and masculine warmth. Pressing a kiss to the opposite cheek, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, “There’s no going back sweetheart you’re ours if you say yes. But if the answer is no I’m not going to lie things will change. Awkward as hell yes especially at first but I,” Bucky clears his throat to which Sam nods, “we would work through that with you. Loosing your friendship can’t happen no matter what.”

Removing yourself from between their warm bodies to collapse at the end of the bed, head in your hands. Mind so confused, a jumbled mix of desire and lust touched with a heavy dose of love that scares the living shit outta you. Feeling the bed dip on either side, removing your hands to glance at both men. Seeing the reassurance in those cerulean and russet orbs you swallow to wet your parched throat. Gaining strength to finally speak, “I don’t want to loose either of you,” looking between both men. Taking each hand within your own, “But this last mission taught me I don’t want to deny my feelings any longer.”

“What feelings doll?” Giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

Looking into Bucky’s cerulean eyes, “I’m in love with both of you.” Switching to Sam’s russet orbs seeing the blatant want shining only boosts your confidence to lean over. Cupping his jaw and bringing your lips against his. Different from the kiss you shared with Bucky. Who’s bottom lip begs for a nibbling, Sam’s fuller lips press against your own in tender caresses.

Gentler too, a soft slant of his mouth against yours, pressing twice at different angles before tracing over your bottom lip. Gaining entrance on a sigh of need to check in with your tongue before tangling together. Heated palm cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple twice while he artfully pillages your mouth. Drawing out a low moan squeak following when a set of lips slide over the side of your neck nibbling a short path to suck a mark behind your ear. Making you weak and boneless against Sam, who releases your cheek and hand to grip your hips, having you straddle his thighs.

Kiss breaking for air, “I’m to heavy Sam, your hip.”

“You’re prefect baby girl no arguing understand?” Cupping your ass in both hands to roll your hips against the hard bulge of his erection. Teeth gritting at how good you feel in his arms, the damp heat of your core only serving to make him grow harder with each brush against your cloth covered pussy. Sam reclaims your mouth, this kiss much different. Desperate and demanding taking no prisoners this time as he immediately slips his tongue back into your mouth. Pulling a groan from deep within your chest, arms going around his neck to help move your body against his. The delicious friction sending jolts of pleasure radiating out over your body, clit throbbing with a need you’ve never felt before.

Hissing at the cool sensations of Bucky’s vibranium fingers drawing circles across your back. Pushing your sleep shirt off your body arms raising, breaking the kiss to accomplish the task. Looking over your shoulder at the bare chested Barnes, mouth salivating at the sight eager to touch and kiss every inch. Brought back to Sam with the heat of his mouth connecting to your pulse, adding his own mark to your body while his callused fingers dances across your back.

Cursing his rotten luck for not having use of one hand, Bucky steps forward lowering to his knees carefully. Brushing his lips along your spine while cool alloyed fingers sweep around your body between you and Sam to trace a line between your breasts. Head dropping back to Bucky’s shoulder and baring your breasts to Sam’s hungry glaze and Bucky’s questing fingers.

“So beautiful,” words whispered reverently from Sam’s lips against the damp column of your throat. Mouth tasting each inch of your skin he can reach. Till moist heat circles your nipple, wet tip of his tongue coming out to flick the tightly budded peak before sucking harshly. In contrast to the cool patterns Bucky draws, taking the time to tug before pinching just hard enough that your back arches into Sam’s mouth.

Pushing into Bucky at your back a whimper parting your gasping lips. Needing more of both men surrounding you, slick coating your trembling thighs as you clinch around nothing. Dragging a whine of desperation from you soul,“Please,” single word escaping your mouth.

“What doll? What do you want?” Drawing his lips up to your ear, nipping the lobe bringing it between his teeth giving a sharp bite at the same time Sam flicks his tongue over your nipple.

Letting go with a wet pop, smiling at the whine exiting your heaving chest, “I think out girl needs more Buck. Any thoughts on how to please her?” Brow wiggling over your shoulder at Bucky who just smirks.

Fingers sliding down then under the band of your panties to find you soaked and pulsing. Cool metal meeting heated flesh makes you jolt in Sam’s arms. Grinding down into those wonderful fingers and against the thick ridge of Sam’s cock.

“Don’t stop please,” gasping head lolling back, your eyes close as sensations crash through your veins. Tight coil starting to form with just the brush of his fingers.

Maneuvering closer to slip two fingers into your clinching channel. Deep groan vibrating through his chest and into your back, “Fuck Sam she’s tight and so wet for us. I bet she tastes just as good as she feels.” Rocking your hips, fucking his fingers desperate for that high traveling up from the bottom of your spine. Tickling your tummy with jolts of pleasure only to have it diminish when Bucky pulls his fingers out.

Frustrated whine leaving your lips only to choke on air when Bucky offers one of the fingers perviously buried inside your cunt to Sam. Who doesn’t hesitate to wrap his lips around the single digit, groaning at the very taste of your essence. Circling the tip with his tongue, making sure to clear every drop off while keeping eye contact with Bucky. Mimicking with his mouth how he’d suck Bucky’s cock, garnering a growl from deep within his chest. Letting go with a smirk, “Even better Buck and I bet from the source it’s simply heaven.”

“Only way to find out,” answering grin firmly in place he raises from the floor. Helping you stand on shaky legs turning you to face him. Capturing your lips in an open mouth kiss, flicking his tongue against yours, teasing your bottom lip and drawing out another frustrated groan making him chuckle. “Don’t worry doll we promise you won’t go unsatisfied we’re going to take care of your every need.”

“Don’t tease her Buck it’s not fair,” glint of mischief sparking through those russet eyes that only Bucky catches since your still face him. Sam comes up behind to pressing his bare chest against your back, hands resting on your hips, tugging and letting the band of your panties snap back against your skin. “You can still say no.”

Wiggling back against Sam then pressing forward to feel the hard line of Bucky’s erection against your lower tummy. Knowing why he’s asking, seeing the same sentiment mirrored in Bucky’s eyes that warms your heart filling with love for both men. “Now who’s teasing Samuel,” reaching behind you to slide your palm over his ridged cock giving a squeeze at the same time you palm Bucky. “I’m sure my loves,” enjoying the answering growls from both men. Before another word leaves your lips Sam tugs down your panties letting them pool at your feet as Bucky moves you towards the bed.

Swiping the book from the mattress to lay on the nightstand, smile on his lips at finding the well loved copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. Bringing you to sit then lay back against the cool sheets, trailing his vibranium fingers from your cheek down between your breasts. Circling each nipple, giving the right a light pinch that has your back arching and a gasp existing your paired lips. Distracted till Sam gently grips your left ankle, spreading you open to slide between your legs. Pressing kisses alone the inside of your leg towards your thigh. Soft bread tickling your skin making giggles erupt from your mouth.

“I think she likes that Sam,” the comment spoken against your ear. Placing a kiss to your cheek, “Have to remember to let my own beard grow back out.”

Whimpering softly at the thought one hand fisting the sheets as Sam draws his tongue over the crease between thigh and groin. Purposefully avoiding the spot you want him most, “Payback is a bitch boys,” words growled out right as Bucky envelopes your left nipple into the heat of his mouth.

“Teasing half the fun sweetheart have patience,” looking up from between your legs. Stiffen tongue drawing up from your entrance to clit, circling the little throbbing nub and making your back arch, gasping for air.

“Fuck,” single word breathed from deep within your body. Sweat starting to bead across your forehead. Head tossed back into the pillow free hand carding through Bucky’s chestnut hair tugging the strands harshly till he lets your breast go with a wet pop. You guide his mouth up to yours, demandingly taking the kiss over, slipping your tongue into his mouth this time. Swallowing your moans of delight with each thrust of his tongue. Matching the pace Sam sets against your dripping cunt.

Rutting into the mattress to find the prefect friction hoping to ease for a moment the throbbing of his cock. “Stop stealing all those pretty noises Barnes I wanna hear our girl,” reaching up to smack the other mans thigh hard enough to break the two of you apart.

“Sorry not sorry,” giving him a smirk while licking his lips from the heated kiss.

Filing away the fact Bucky knows what means only to have any thought fly from your mind as two thick fingers enter your quivering channel. Slowly thrusting, his mouth suctioned onto your clit, drawing little short patterns making your thighs shake around his head. Slacking off to lazily place kisses over those thighs but still pumping his fingers, crooking them into a come hither motion to brush over that special spongy spot.

Blooming stars behind your tightly closed eyes, “Watch him doll, see how much you loves devouring that pretty cunt.” Voice rough with arousal against your ear, Bucky’s metal fingers dancing over your chest only adding to your heighten state of desire.

At his command you eyes open to lock with Sam’s passion blown blacken eyes. Moaning at the picture he presents you with, panting breath as you keep drawing closer to your orgasm. Only to have Sam back off creating frustrating tension in your body. Gritting out, “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.”

Smirk showing in those beloved eyes as he doubles down on your clit. Lips puffy but forming a perfect O too suction and flick his tongue over the engorged nerve bundle. Fingers, third added to stretch you open and picking the pace up as your mouth drops wide in a scream Bucky devours with a deep kiss. To keep from waking the kids or Sarah, his own body on fire with a need to have you both.

Tingles quickly dancing through your veins, breath panting as you break from Bucky’s mouth, one hand gripping the sheets below the other still buried in his hair. Body on fire as you near that perfect orgasm Sam’s intent on giving you.

Denial’s not just a river in Egypt as your eyes pop open at the knock on your door. Reminiscent of what your sluggish brain comes to understand as just a very vivid dream. One that makes your heart drop with the book that’d lay on your chest now face down on the carpeted floor. You stand checking the time of mid night before heading to the door and finding Sarah on the other side with ice cream in hand.

“Figured you might need some cheering up,” letting her in and taking the bowl of your favorite ice cream.

Vivid dream lingering though you don’t share feeling a TMI moment she doesn’t and most likely wouldn’t want to know about her big brother. You steer the topics away from the non existent love life to plans for tomorrow and the coming weekend.

#Buckybingo #New Hair cut square #Sam Wilson x Female Reader #Bucky Barnes x Female Reader #Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader #Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader #Bucky Barnes x F!Reader #Sam Wilson x F!Reader #TFATWS fiction

[artxyra]

The Secret Life of MDC | Part 3

Part 3 - Welcome to Gotham, now get out!

Part 1 | Part 2 |

Arriving in Gotham was just an absolutely massive mess, that quickly turned into a several page report for Marinette to send to the school board the moment she arrived in her temporary dorm at Gotham Academy.

Let recap back to the airport. When everyone got off the plane, Lila was quick to make up an excuse about Bruce Wayne sending her a private limo that she’ll be happy to bring the class along. Of course, Caline Bustier, absently believed the long-time liar telling her students to gather their belongings and for Lila to call the Waynes. It was as if she had completely forgotten the arrival procedures. Arriving in Gotham, proceed to find the bus driver, and meet up with the Gotham Academy Headmistress to retrieve the rest of the plans for the month. Marinette tried to tell Caline that what they were doing was against the procedure, something that she had to memorize for moments like this, only to be lectured about behavior the second she finished talking off to the side.

Then when they finally arrived at the school, Caline had the nerve to lecture her again about not informing her about the bus before being dragged off by the Gotham Academy headmistress, who clearly was not happy with the decisions made before they could even step foot onto the school grounds. Gotham is not a place to dilly dally unless you know the area or a native.

“Do you think, she’ll be fired after this?” Chloe asks while setting her things into the wardrobe as Marinette clicks the save button on her laptop.

“Maybe, no matter what happens, we’re here for a month regardless of the decisions the GA headmistress and Principal De La Fontaine decides in the coming days. All I know as the class president and temp. TA; my job is to help her overlook you guys.” Marinette sighs and closes the laptop's top before giving Chloe her full attention.

“I still can’t believe you graduated early. Though Adrien and I are grateful you managed to stay despite everything.” It was rare moments like these that made Marinette glad that she gave Chloe a second chance. Chloe had apologized one winter when she was freezing to death outside because her parent went on a tropical vacation on her request and decided to allow the staff to take a few days off. It was Sabine and Tom that took the former bully into their arms and made her feel loved, a love that she rarely receives from her parents. Since that day, Chloe takes pride in the honor of being Marinette’s sister just as Adrien did when they took him in also.

“I couldn’t leave you guys to perish in that class. Also, I just didn’t want to give Lie-la the satisfaction of winning.” Marinette says as her phones with the familiar sounds of “The Other Side” by Ruelle. Instantly, Marinette picks up the phone and smiles. “It’s Damian, he wants to go out tonight. Think I have time before—”

“Go, I’ll keep you from trouble, maybe even invite Adrien over if he isn’t doing the same with Jon.” Chloe pushes the noirette out of their room before closing the door behind the designer with a smirk on her lips.

As Marinette makes her way out of the dormitory, little did she know that Lila was just doing the same but for a different reason.

~*~

Damian Wayne @therealbloodheir I had a wonderful night with my beloved. I can’t wait for more nights like these. [Attached is an image of two hands intertwine with each other with the moon shining between them.]

Nette @GothamsFashionSense Replying to @therealbloodheir That sounds like a marriage proposal. Missing you too.

~*~

In the halls of Gotham Academy, conversations buzz around the single fact that Nette was back in Gotham for the first time in weeks. Groups of students gather around a single person, whose phone is out in the open, all gushing about theories on how the date went.

The same can be said for GA’s exchange students who crowd around Lila Rossi like she was the air.

“Gurl, spill, how was the date? You’re tending on twitter, again!” Alya squeals, gripping Lila’s arm.

“Oh you, it was truly romantic. Damiboo took me on this romantic dinner, but the first place we went to didn’t serve any vegetarian meals, and as you know I’m one but he’s not. We left and found another place that was just right.” Her high pitch voices drive a shiver down people spines, well anyone that is in clear hearing distance to the Italian teen's voice range.

“Do they truly believe that she’s Nette. Bitch please, we all know that Nette has dark hair from the back of the head photos on twitter.” A random student scoffs behind the trio.

The trio turns around looking at the person in a new light. The student had long braided blonde hair and wearing the GA uniform. “You’re not fooled? I was pretty sure that she would try and convert you the moment you step foot into the building.” It was Adrien that spoke first.

“I'm Allegra, besides me is Claude and Allen.” The student says shaking hands with Adrien before continuing with, “Anyone with brain cells can tell you that she is not Nette from @GothamsFashionSense.”

Allegra then takes the empty seat beside Marinette.

“Name’s Marinette, these dorks are Adrien and Chloe.” Marinette says, “About the brain cell thing, we’ve been saying that since she joined our class a few years back.”

“It ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, as to how they manage to hang on her every word. And one of them is a self-proclaim reporter. The bitch hasn’t reported anything remotely true since the liar had joined us and don't get me started on her early years.” Chloe places her two cents into the conversation.

This was the start of a blooming relationship.

Claude, Allegra, and Allen were quick to understand the environment that the Paris Trio was living in. An irresponsible, enabling teacher and a class full of idiots. With the Gotham Trio, the Paris Trio was able to understand how Gotham Academy works and learn the ins and outs of specific places. Despite the fact that Marinette vaguely knows just about much.

~*~

“So, how were your first three days at GA?” Dick Grayson asks as the Paris trio who are sitting on the couch inside the living room of Wayne Manor. "Is it about the same as it was when I went?"

“Dicky, I am this close to making heads roll.” Chloe’s fingers are teaching as a look of crazy twitches in her eyes.

“It wasn’t all that bad the first couple of days and then Lila tried to convince GA students that she was me by photoshopping our twitter photos. Other than that, I’m more worried about when Bustier announces that our class has been invited to the upcoming Wayne Gala. I’m already booked with mine and Chloe’s dresses along with Selina’s and Cass’s.” Marinette says, resting her head on Damian’s shoulder as their hands' interlock. Damian places a quick peck on her forehead.

The room was once again oddly silent before Adrien let out a loud giggle.

The family turns to the model who was staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. Adrien was no doubt in a group chat with Luka and Jon about upcoming meetings and plans.

“What?” Adrien asks, looking up to the group of extended family members staring at him. They all quickly look away, some whistling while others mess with the person they are next to. “Seriously guys, what?” The whining in Adrien’s voice just made it harder for them to pretend to do something as they hold in a laugh.

“Nothing,” Marinette snickers as Damian brings to play with her hair by braiding strands of it. She always liked it when Damian messed with her hair, he sometimes does something nice, surprising everyone with his styling skills.

“Hey, Pixie-Pop and Pixie-Pop’s friends. When did you guys get in?” It’s Jason, to which majority had forgotten about even though Tim was a close second as he is hovering over a half-full cup of coffee trying to stay awake but isn’t with them in reality. Maybe Marinette should make her special concoction that would knock anyone out for quite some time.

“Hey Mari, can you make the switch?” Dick whispers in the designer’s ear. Marinette huffs agreeing to the older sibling’s request. Damian nearly groans as his girlfriend gets off his lap and walks into the kitchen.

Marinette comes out nearly ten minutes later with a steaming coffee mug in hand. She walks over to Tim and pushes his cup out of his hand and replaces it with hers. Tim, absently, takes a sip. Within seconds he is knocked out, cold.

“I’ll never not be amazed at how fast your drink can knock Tim out,” Dick says as he picks up Tim and exits the room. Marinette shrugs and takes her seat next to Damian.

“When does Cass get back from her trip?” It was Chloe who decided to break the silence between them.

“Before the gala, that’s for sure,” Jason answers as he pulls out the controllers for the game console. He gives Marinette a knowing look, who smirks with mischief in her eyes. He should know better than to play against Marinette.

~*~

It was times like this that made Marinette wish that the school board had investigated Mlle. Bustier years ago, like for example when the liar first tried to get her expelled in college. Yeah, that was such a long time ago.

Today was supposed to be an easy-going day, but for some reason, Lila managed to convince the teachers, Mlle. Bustier specifically, to allow the class to visit a nearby street mall. Mlle. Bustier, of course, agrees despite the GA teachers telling her that it was a bad idea to let the student go out unsupervised in a place they still don’t know much about. Caline laughs it off stating that they’ll be fine, and it’ll be just like walking down the streets in Paris. That added another dash to her inability to be a proper teacher.

Which brings us to the street mall. Lila was going into stores left and right proclaiming to be Damian Wayne’s girlfriend or stating that she is the niece of some high profile celebrity in hopes of getting free or discounted items. That doesn’t dwell well seeing as Gothamites are not as gullible as Parisians.

The Paris Trio along with the GA Trio watch the mess that she was drumming up from afar. Chloe had invited Allegra to join them which then extended to Claude and Allan who wanted to go for the arcade.

Lila even had the nerve to ask Adrien to join her and Alya shopping trips with the underlying message of making him pay. Once being denied on numerous occasions, Alya managed to steal Nino’s wallet in hopes of paying for all their stuff. Yeah, that didn't help their relationship status.

“Alya I told you that money wasn’t for you,” Nino screams into his girlfriend’s face as she tries to come up with an excuse. He was infuriated.

“Nino, baby, if you love me you would have just given me the money. Lila really needed those items for her date with Damian.”

“I don’t care about Lila’s need; she is not my responsibility. In fact, neither are you, Alya. You just spent the money I had saved up for this trip.” Nino had wanted to go into a DJ shop that sold the equipment he wanted and started saving the moment the trip was announced the year before.

“Stop bitching, it was only a couple hundred dollars.”

Oohs and side-eyes make up the crowd they were drawing. It was a free drama tv for them.

“Ooh what do we have here, a lovers quarrel? Now would be the perfect time to spring my new trap.” Suddenly, it was like time freezes.

~*~

Chloe B. @QueenBeeOfParis The best thing about my idiotic classmates is television drama. #savemefromthem

Tina @thepinkmistress I was finding my own business when this shit happens. [Attach is a video clip of a couple arguing and goons dress in green takes over the streets]

Tim Drake’s Bish @rachelcovefe The nerve of this group. Just finished my shift only to be told by some foreigner that she was @GothamsFashionSense like bish please I know you ain't her. #anotherdayingotham

Kimmy @kimmyontheblock Replying to@rachelcovefe OMG same but she then added in that she was Jagged Stone's niece. Um excuse you but we all know that it's @MDCfashion

Mari Needs Coffee @MarinetteMemes So the first relaxing day in Gotham ruined by the Riddler and Lie-la’s fanatics. Yup, so good to be back. #memescomingsoon #goodgrief #imabouttoheadout

Part 4 >>

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#daminette #maribat #teacher assistant au #teacher assistant Marinette AU #ta marinette #fic:The Secret Life of MDC #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc crossover #ml crossover #damimari

[internalsealpanic]

Radio Silence

Summary: You take Tim with you to a family reunion hoping to monopolize his time. You may have forgotten to tell him a few things. For example, the haunted radio.

masterlist

a/n: I’m sorry for the wait. I forgot that I am no longer used to describing atmosphere. This isn’t my best work but I hope you like it. This was based on my family’s tradition of sitting in the dark on Halloween listening to scary stories on the radio. This is mainly Tim Drake x Filipino!Reader because I realley wanted to try my hand at a bilingual character. You will see misspelling of words in the dialogue. That’s intentional on my part. There will be translations.

“Yes, Nay, he’s the one in the picture,”

“No! It’s the guy with-” You blow out an exasperated breath. You hear Tim snicker behind you and you dedicate half your brain cells to coming up with the best way to kick his ass.  “Yung mukhang Koreano. Yeah. Yeah. Dat one.”

“Yes, he looks more like a white boy. Mistiso.” You explain curtly.

“Yes, he’s smart. I hab standards,” Tim raises a disbelieving brow at you. You stick your tongue out at him but nearly bite it off when your grandmother speaks again.

“What do you mean doubtful?!” Tim looks absolutely delighted. A cheshire smile curling on his lips as he leans back into your couch. You glare at him then at your phone then at the ceiling then past that to glare at whatever god was up there.

“THAT WAS ONE TIME! Justine was an-” You mutter trying to remember the word.  “- an anomaly and you know it!”

“…..”

“Ok der were 2 anomalies!”

“3”

“Ok maybe Tim is the anomaly, but seriously, Nay, he’s fine,” You snarl, the jaggedness of your Gotham accent rearing its head. You wince but do not apologize. This will bite you in the ass later but you didn’t say it. You don’t like the taste of the word.

“No. I mean if you don’t want us to embarrass you at the church social then- Yes, I have been going to church,” You can see Tim rolling his eyes and mouthing liar with a twitch of his lip in the corner of your vision. “No, he’s not the showy type. Nay, I gotta go. The food’s burning,”

“Yes, Nay, I lab you bery mach,” You sigh into the phone letting your grandmother’s lather your tongue cutting into the briskness of your consonants. It held the same euphoria as taking off your shoes after a particularly long day.

“Unless you’re Dick, you can’t burn cereal,” Tim cut in carting you away from your reverie.

“Watch me, Drake,” You huff throwing a pillow at Tim almost making him drop his cereal bowl.

“So, can Gotham survive without Red Robin for a weekend?”

“Shouldn’t you have asked me this before telling your grandma that you’re taking me?”

“I’m just double-checking,”

“How considerate,”

“To be fair, your schedule is already volatile as is,"  You huff snuggling up to him on the couch. It was too cold in Tim’s apartment. You think a rich kid like him could afford to turn up the heat. Though, you aren’t exactly going to complain about an excuse to cuddle him.

Tim doesn’t make a move to push you away. Instead, he wraps his arm around you pulling you closer. This was the type of easy affection you two had become accustomed to. This was also the thing that will make your Schrade even more convincing. "True, but I asked Cass and the others to cover for me. Plus, your grandma sounds like she likes me,”

“Considering you don’t have a criminal record and aren’t currently being investigated, you immediately rocketed to the top of her list,” You answer absentmindedly stirring your cereal and taking a bite.

Tim whips his head to you and gives you a concerned look which you return with a smile full of cereal. He blanches at you, shaking his head and grabbing the remote to unpause the Star Trek episode you two were watching. You both prop your feet up and chew your cereal slowly, not feeling any reason to hurry.

How long has it been since you started? You’re pretty sure it was 1 AM when you started.

As if reading your mind, Tim looks at his phone, winces then turns back to the screen without another word.  You quirk your brow at him but decide that there is some truth to the saying ignorance is bliss.

You were gonna hate yourselves come noon.

 It’s noon, the sun has the audacity to show itself,  and you hate yourself.

You definitely, unequivocally hate yourself.

You groan in the passenger seat, head pressed against the cool window. The faint warmth of the sun glancing off your skin makes the tinges of nausea circling the periphery of your senses come to life. Your stomach does a cartwheel and you think- you’re sure you’re going to throw up but you aren’t gonna do that.

No way in hell are you gonna do that. Not when you’ve finally conned your way into monopolizing Tim’s attention for the weekend.

Ok, yeah, sure it was the result of some miscommunication between you and your cousin who then passed on the miscommunication to the whole goddamn family but that’s just what you call a happy accident.

You blow out a breath, greedily taking in all the coolness of the glass pressed against your skin calling your mind back to your body. You weren’t really good with handling the not sleeping thing.

“You ok?” Tim asked his eyes flickering between you and the alarmingly empty road. There was worry in his eyes whether it was the fact that you looked like shit or the fact that the road you were on looked like the opening to a terrible 80s slasher flick. It was Halloween after all. It would be pretty perfect. Dread licks at your stomach at the thought.

You let the silence lapse. In the corner of your eye, you see Tim’s hand tighten on the steering wheel. You stare at the expanse of farmland stretching to the horizon debating whether to humor his question or to let him stew.

“I’m fine,” You picked the third option.

“You don’t look fine,” Tim deadpans, turning to you.

“Stop looking then-” Tim scowls at you his pouty lips pulling into an angle. You sneer. “-You don’t look too good yourself, Kirk,”

Tim makes an offended noise. You look at Tim, really look at him, for the first time in hours. Tim, as per usual, looked obnoxiously handsome even though he was running on at most 30 minutes of sleep and had eye bags running down his face. Somewhere lost in his contemplative expression was the blindingly obvious hint of self doubt. You’ve seen it tons of times.

You peel yourself away from the cool glass to look Tim in the eyes. Dread swims in the pools of teal looking straight back at you. Tim’s mouth edges between a pout and a frown. You soften, shifting in your seat angling until your body is facing his.

“Whatever it is you’re overthinking it,”

“You don’t even know what I’m thinking!”

“Ay,” You chuckle and shake your head. “Tim, it’s you. You overthink everything. I don’t need to be a mind reader to see that,”

 Tim huffs. Maybe he was overthinking things.

“ ‘sides, I don’t see why you would be nervous 'bout meeting my family,”

Has it occurred to you I want to date you for real at some point? Tim thought a little frustrated.

You laugh when he frowns but instead of teasing him any further. You flick the radio on. Your hackles rise as it crackles to life. A smile flickers on your face when ‘All-star’ comes on. You cry out, a noise of shrill joy filling the air.

“Oh my god” Tim breathes, running his long fingers through his dark hair. “You absolute dork,”

“Kettle. Pot.” You grin.

Tim snorts as you loudly sing along with the radio. Unfortunately for him, your enthusiasm for the song was infectious. Somehow you both managed to miss every beat of the song.

You somehow felt like you were definitely forgetting something.

6 cans of monster and 5 things of 5-hour-energy drink later, you arrived. Tim’s nice-looking car pulls into the dusty gravel driveway of a rather large and old colonial looking house. Seeing the robust form of the large house looming in the distance injected your veins with a stifling source of dread. 

You love your family to bits but sometimes their presence weighed so much. You can feel their words already pecking at you, drawing pit and pieces of your self into frayed fibers. All you can think about were the comments hushed behind palms and the dissecting gaze of dark eyes. Your mouth feels dry and you can already feel your feet pivoting back towards the car.

Tim reaches for your hand, lacing his slender fingers between yours.  He smiles at you squeezing your hand. You can feel him rattling from his own anxiety but his effort steadies you. You grin at him and squeeze back.  

Your teeth click the entire walk up to the large oak doors. Tim squeezes your hand again, his teal eyes sweeping over you with a concerned glint. You furrow your brow and somehow he understands and raises his hand to knock on the door.

The door bursts open. Music and laughter wash over you as hands hurry you into the front hall.

“Nay! Dito na sya! May dalang gwapo!” (Mom, y/n’s here and they brought someone handsome.)

About 20 heads turn to look at you. Tim feels some embarrassment from the attention but that doesn’t last too long as in the space of about 5 seconds, those 20 heads were swarming you both, pulling you into hugs, shaking your hands, and ruffling your hair in varying degrees of force and order.

“Beh, you’ve grown so big” Your aunt coos squishing your face.

“Nena, look at this guy,”

“Tita, he doesn’t have any tattoos,” Your little cousin marveled looking bug-eyed as she lifted Tim’s shirt. You swat her away but take a quick second to subtly admire Tim’s sculpted abs. Your aunt scolds him and your uncle drags you to the main room where more guests were sitting chattering or screaming at a foreign horror movie.   

All the apprehension bundled into your stiff shoulders dissolves like seafoam against the overwhelming warmth of the festivities. The raucous laughter drags the roughness of Gotham away from your tongue. In place of your slow, careful syllables are quick clattering consonants and concise vowels. Your vowels were still elongated and angled to a sharp point unlike the nearly musical words of your cousins but as you said before ‘Gotham has its way of burying itself in your bones’. Tim just never thought about how saliently it showed itself in words. He wonders how his accent (folded, neat, and sterilized) sounds to you. He wonders how dull he sounds to you.

You have teased him about it. You’ve teased him endlessly about the way upper-class Manhattan just rolls off his tongue, how Alfred’s British affectations worm their way into his syllables. What you don’t tell him is how the smooth velvet of his words lull you into a hypnotic state that steals every bit of oxygen from your lungs.  What you can’t make yourself tell him is that you would gladly spend your whole life listening to him read a fucking phone book. 

The festivities were lively and informal. Jokes flying every which way. All alternating between your native tongue. You laugh into your drink, hiding the hesitant curve blunting your infectious smile. Tim nudges you to ask what’s wrong but you simply nudge him back and shake your head as if he had said something funny. Your relatives didn’t seem to notice your demeanor or if they did they left it alone.

Tim decides to leave it alone for now. Instead, he leaned into the flow of conversation. His years of speaking at galas working their magic on your aunts. They bombarded him with questions. Most of which sounded like screening questions at the embassy. You snarled at them more than once to knock it off but Tim shook it off. He knows they’re just worried about you the same way he worried for you. Well, not the same way but it was their way of showing they cared. He lets himself be immersed in the conversation.  It’s more like he tuned into the sweet sound of your laughter but made sure to dedicate enough restraint to not look like a love-sick puppy.

“Tanga!” (MORON!)

“Baliw!” (Crazy!)

“E gago ka pala, di ba halata yun?” (No shit sherlock, isn’t it obvious?)

Tim is at best confused as he watches the volley of words between you and your cousin. Your voices rising above the blaring karaoke. Anthony (?) clamps a hand on his shoulder and laughs as he watches you and Martin (?) hurl insults at each other. In the corner of your eye, you watch his reactions checking if he understood a word. He isn’t fluent but he understood bits and pieces. He’s heard you mutter angrily about customers enough times to distinguish an insult. 

“Dun worry about 'em. They won’t fight. They’re stupid but they’re not that stupid. ‘Sides, they’re too afraid of Nay for that,”

Tim gives Anthony a doubtful look. Anthony chuckles at him, clapping him on the back urging him to keep watching. He does if only to make sure you’ll be alright. When he does, he tunes into your words. Tim marvels at how musical you sound as you trade another round of rapid-fire jabs with Martin, how at ease you seem. Tim makes a mental note to get you to teach him. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure how he would justify it.  Admittedly, part of it was just wanting to spend more time with you.

He can probably swing it.

A surge of protectiveness crowds his veins when Martin grabs at you but his hand is swatted by a cane. The air crackles with a sharp snap. The room plunges into silence.  A small woman with silver hair stands tall and imperious at the other end of the cane. You and your cousins stiffen.

“Hi Nay,” You trail off with a distinct lack of grace. You swallow the lump forming your throat, robbed of any coherent thought by the stinging look in her eyes. You felt bare under her gaze. Layers and layers of skin peeling beneath the weight of her attention. Fury flickers like firelight across her dark eyes. Your skin suddenly felt like lint and you were sure you would catch fire.

A pause.

A bated breath held for what felt like an eternity.

“Iha(Iho), It’s been so long,” She says, softening. Her wrinkled face stretches into a kind smile that made you think of freshly cooked vegetables.  Her cane folding to her side as she loops her arm over your shoulders. “It’s nays to see you,”

A choked sound comes out of you and you feel something shake loose. “Missed you too, Nay,” You breathed. Tim feels awkward, fidgeting in his place.  

The soft smile on your grandmother fades a little. Her sharp eyes appraising Tim. The look wasn’t particularly venomous, but it left Tim feeling like he’d been cut open and analyzed. He wasn’t entirely sure of why you were all so scared of her before but now he fully understood.

She relinquishes her grip on you and urges you to go back to Tim. You frown a little, giving her a suspicious look which she returns innocently.  You let out a little breath before walking back to Tim’s side. She gives him another long once over before silently strolling away. His stomach churned but eased at your touch. You still look uneasy but you don’t fuss over it. Not when Martin decides that he wasn’t quite done with bickering.

 The festivities went on as normal. Maybe with a little less cussing going around. But Tim barely noticed when your laugh, free of any hesitance, echoed sonorously in his ear as he held you close. 

Roz presses a drink into his hand. “Congrats, you’ve survived round one of Nay’s hazing,”

“Round one?” Tim hiccups into his drink. He coughed. The beer was strong. A strangely potent amount of alcohol that made his throat burn.

“Yeah, Roz, that was more like round 2.” You mutter sullenly, distinctly taking no sips of the drink Roz had also handed you. The paranoid Bat-part of his brain screams that he’s been poisoned. He’s struggling not to let it win over but your conversation wasn’t helping.

“Nay will eat him alive,”

“I mean. She’ll do it nicely,”

“Pfffft, right! Ok, Tony, name one time she’s been nice.”

“How about-”

“The thing with Y/n earlier doesn’t count,”

“Why not?”

“There was a hidden agenda,”

“Oh shit! The bitch is right- Ow! You are!”

You look at Tim apologetically and squeeze his hand. Somehow this does not calm his nerves, but he tries his best to ease into his touch.

 On the trip here, you warned him that it was going to be exhausting. He assumed, incorrectly, that you were exaggerating. After all, he’s survived snobby rich people and his family. Your family seemed nice. He can survive a nice family dinner.

But what you neglected to tell him was that it would be sheer chaos.  He definitely wasn’t prepared for the sensory overload.  The house was almost unbearably loud compared to the manor. Every corner was filled with people chattering, playing games,  eating, and doing anything to entertain themselves. Sure, Tim was used to chaos but he was more accustomed to short bursts. He wasn’t quite as prepared for the seemingly endless stream of conversations and liquor.

You had definitely not prepared his poor unassuming introverted ass well enough. Not even halfway through the night, Tim was ready to crash. The 20 minutes of sleep he got beforehand had not helped. 

You, the angel that you are, guide him away from the party. You drag yourselves down the wide yawning corridor to the grand staircase.

Lit only by the thin veil of moonlight, the house showed its age. Walking up the stairs and walking through its hallways was like falling through time. The halls were lined with paintings, all landscapes and still-lifes. He’s thankful for that small mercy. His head swimming in liquor, he is reminded of the portraits at Wayne Manor and how their eyes burned at you as you passed.

The lack of portraits doesn’t make the house any less creepy mind you. Religious fixtures line the halls, crucifixes affixed to every arch-like mistletoes. There were doll-like statues of hollow-eyed saints at every corner table. It might have been the dancing moonlight but Tim swore he saw one of them move. Tim suddenly wishes he hadn’t ingested so much liquor.

Before long, you make your way to a bedroom. How the hell you knew which one to put him in was anyone’s guess. You lead him into the room. Touch gentle and careful as you coaxed him in. Soft jazzy music echoing hauntingly. The dancing moonlight and the solid shadows of the room highlighting your gorgeous features, drawing his attention to your plush lips. You lean over him to make sure he was indeed still part of the living. Liquid courage surging in his face, he presses his lips to yours. It’s cautious. He gently runs his hand through your hair, pulling you towards him with a push. The press of his lips is restrained, more of a question than a demand. Slightly chapped lips press against your sweet and searching.

Tim remembers the warm press of your lips, the way the pads of fingers trail against the soft fabric of his shirt, your warm breath fanning against his cool skin, then nothing.

Knock

Knock

KNOCK

Tim grouses into his pillow. Tim was having an absolutely wonderful dream. He could still feel your warm lips against his.  Tim squeezes his eyes trying to go back to sleep.

Knock

KNOCK

KNOCK

‘1 AM’ the antique analog clock at the nightstand reads.

“I’m up!” He lies burying himself further into the thick sheets.

His brothers really needed to stop breaking into his apartment at 1-

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

Tim nearly falls out of bed when he remembers where he is. He jams a shirt over his head and some sweatpants before stumbling to the door.

“Hey Tim, you coming?” Anthony asks through the crack of the door.

Tim opens the door a little wider. “Where?”

“Outside,” Roz shrugs vaguely.

 “Whe-”

You step out of your room, extremely hesitant. Your knuckles were turning white from apprehension. You look at Tim, surprise plain in your eyes. You flinch heat rising to your cheeks. Tim remembers the texture of your soft lips. He wishes that wasn’t a dream. You glare at your cousins who give you a confused look. 

“Roz, he-”

“Awwww, ‘insan, you’re actually coming?” Martin mocks clapping you on the shoulder drawing, what Tim considers, an adorable squeak from you. His heart almost leaps from his chest when your warm body presses further into Tim’s side. You can’t hear it but Tim’s breath stutters in his chest.  He loops his arm around you protectively. Martin gives both of you a sly conspiratorial look.

You scowl at Martin. Glaring with as much intensity and intimidation your burning cheeks would allow. Roz swats him over the head making him almost topple down the steps before Anthony even gets a chance to rebuke him. Instead, Anthony turns to you, brows furrowed. “You sure you want to come? Nay said-”

“La a!” Martin protested. Roz rolls her eyes and swats him again. “Dipshit’s right. Nay didn’t say jack,”

“Then why did you swat me?”

“E, I felt like it e,”

“Bish, whose side are you on?!” He snarls but before he can lunge at Roz, Anthony is already dragging him by the scruff of his neck.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh! Not so loud. The kids will hear us,”

“I for one will not help you wrangle tita’s crotch gremlins,”

“We’re going to be late and Nay is going to unleash hell upon us,”

Anxiously, you tug at Tim urging him to follow your cousins as they filed out through the back door.

 “Where are we going?” Tim hisses.

All four of you share a look.

“We’ll explain,” You promise.

 The journey was eerie. Punctuated by the fact that none of you explain jack. The walk was entirely silent, devoid of bickering or any sort of conversation. He can see the silence driving both Roz and Anthony mad. You honestly look like you’re going to keel over. The odd thing was that even the birds were silent. Not a single sound penetrated the thick canopy of juniper trees.

You wonder the woods guided only by the thin ribbons of silver light peaking through the thick clouds of leaves. Tim can feel your pulse as it thundered in your chest. No matter what was going on he would keep you safe.

You arrive in front of a rusted gate half a foot shorter than Tim. It was small, easily climbable with plenty of spiraling pieces to stick your foot into for purchase if needed. Your eyes cut to Roz who fished out a key he’d seen perched on one of the coat racks.  Hesitantly, you held your hand out for the key. Roz, on the other hand, all but slammed it into your hand, grinning in a mix of absolute glee and relief. Your teeth click as you worked the lock. He wants to suggest just going over it but you seem quite adamant and he wasn’t about to push your nerves.

Finally, the lock gives in.

You all file in one at a time in a sort of practiced motion. Beyond the gates was a path with its stones polished from a shine from use. The scarce light coming from the canopy of trees rippling against them. It lit the rest of the way still keeping the surroundings in deep shadow.

The path ended in front of a small dilapidated stone structure that seemed too small to house anything.

“Age before beauty,” Martin jeers, bending down dramatically urging Roz to go in. She, in turn, shoves him in with a swift kick. The dark interior of the structure swallows him whole. Her dark eyes cut to you. You swallow but ultimately you shrug off Tim’s hold and relinquish your death grip on Tim’s arm. You let out a shaky breath as you step over the threshold. Just like Martin before you, the shadows leave no trace of you.

Tim reaches for the last bit of your swaying blanket. Roz taking the chance shoves Tim over the threshold, his vision goes pitch black.

“See you there, lover boy~”

The darkness is all-encompassing making his eyes completely useless as much as he tries to adjust them. Instead, he strains all of his other senses. He feels the press of moss-covered walls closing in on him. The staircase only seemed wide enough to let one person pass at a time. The stairs wind in shallow predictable patterns. The scent of moss and burning firewood grew heavy as he made his descent. Distantly, he could hear the soft padding of your shoes against the stone but he also heard the crackle of jazzy music. It was the kind he only heard from the old black and white movies Bruce and Alfred watched. It was oddly familiar but he couldn’t place it. The smooth baritone of the singer rattles in his head. A shiver of mild discomfort travels up his spine.

After what feels like an eternity, Tim emerges. His eyes slamming shut from the sudden brightness of his surroundings. He blinks, eyes adjusting to the light. His eyes take in his surroundings.

He was in a clearing. It was man-made, constructed using the same stones that lined the path you’d taken. The stone walls were covered in moss and ivy, but the stone that did peak out reflected the moonlight freely raining drown from the clear autumn sky. In the center of the space, sit 9 people including yourself. All cast in the warm glow of the crackling bonfire. It is a living thing, raging and casting shadows sharpening and obscuring features.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Timothy,” Your grandmother calls out as she fiddles with the nobs of the old radio perched in her lap. It crackles uncooperatively despite her efforts. He can’t pry his eyes away from it even as he takes his seat next to your shivering form.

Without much thought, Tim pulls you close. You tremble, teeth still clicking eyes wild and fixed on the radio. The radio is a curious thing. It’s an old model. It’s sleek but dotted with various nobs and switches. If he had to guess, it was something out of the 1960s. In the periphery of his senses, he hears Roz and Anthony step out of the staircase and take their places in the circle with Roz sitting right next to your grandmother.

Your grandmother stops fiddling with the radio then turns to Roz who is now comfortably seated. Your teeth chatter and your shoulder hitch as they silently converse. Roz inhales then exhales. Her dark eyes sweep over all of you making sure she had your attention. Based on the silence and the still forms, she did. She sits a little straighter, her shoulders rolling back.

She throws herself into a tale. It was a story she’d heard long ago about a man, a house, and a secret. Her calm voice carries over the soft roaring of the bonfire. It wasn’t the scariest tale Tim had heard but Roz told it well. Well enough to draw squeaks from several people including yourself.

Tim relaxes catching on to the turn of events. He lets you press into his side as you make your feeble attempt to get away from the story. Tim chuckles at the amount of theatrics you’ve all put into building up to this little gathering. However, all his smug skepticism vanishes when Roz finishes her story.

The static from the radio vanishes. Its various nobs move without assistance and its switches click into place.  The same baritone voice carries from the radio. Tim doesn’t hear what it says as his mind reels. He turns to you and opens his mouth to ask but Anthony begins his tale before Tim can even formulate his question. Beside him, you fidget with his sleeve shaking hands clenching and unclenching on the fabric.

Tim remembers how much you hate ghost stories. You’d once gotten sick with a fever just from watching horror movies. At this point, you were on the verge of tears. Your breathing slowed abnormally as Martin finished his story. The radio predictably did not whirr to life after his story. Through your chattering teeth, you give your cousin a vicious smile which he volleys by sticking his tongue out petulantly.

It’s your turn.

You squeeze Tim’s hand twice before worming out of his grasp. You flutter your long lashes, lightcatching in them looking golden as the fire flickered urging you to delve into your story. You roll your shoulders and let your blanket and apprehension slide away in one smooth action.

You tell your story.

 Your countenance still and grave as you tell a story of crossroads and terrible choices.

The radio huffs, seemingly amused by your effort.

“Well, y/n,” The radio coos. Your name drips like molasses from its speakers. It’s unsettling how crisp it sounds. Its voice absent of static as it addresses you. “You sure do know about bad choices. I believe so does that young thing- Pardon me. Young things swimming in the harbor. They’re just a tinsy bit cut up about it.” The radio teases almost sounding gleeful. You nod gravely, stomach reaching the floor.

Harbor?

You settle back down into your seat. Tim nudges you, cocking his head to the side to question you. Your fist clenches and unclenches in your lap before you look him in the eyes again.

“Case,” You mouth silently.

It clicks.

The harbor.

 The bodies.

That’s what the radio meant.

Someone clears their throat urging Tim to tell a story. He stumbles through a half-remembered urban legend he heard from Steph awhile ago. His mind far too preoccupied with the new information to really devote to any theatrics.

 His turn passes.

And the stories continue as he mulls over the information.

It’s your grandmother’s turn. Your hand grips Tim’s arms white-knuckled. You attempt to swallow down the fear but it catches in your throat constricting your airway. The flames dance casting her face in sinister shadows that bring out all the sharp angles in her features. Her smile curls cruel. Her bony fingers trace the seems and delicate patterns embossed on the old radio. Static erupts loud then dies down just as quickly. Her smokey voice fills the air. Heavy and commanding. The story spills from her lips smooth and velvety slick with gore and unspoken horrors. None of you dare to speak. Some don’t even breathe. Your hands scrabble for purchase on Tim’s shirt as you bury your face in his chest. You feel him wrap himself around you shielding you the best he can. Ear pressed to his chest, you can hear Tim’s pulse hammering. The terror soaking through to his bones. He remains steady. Unflinching even as the story reaches its climax.

The flames flash, fade, then flicker.  

The radio crackles.

The smooth baritone of its voice distorting into something undeniably inhuman.

Shadows dance.

Their hands reaching out as the flames did. A hard yank from one of them nearly topples you out of Tim’s arms.  He shifts you both away from their grasp. He glares fiercely at them making sure you’re safe.

Sorrowful moans fill the air but your grandmother is undeterred.

With a shrill cry from the radio, everything dies down.

The shadows retreat.

The fire simmers down now small and tame.

Everyone lets out a breath. Both of you could feel everyone unfurl. Tense muscles, locked jaws, tight chests all loosen with the end of the story.

For a long moment, the entire circle is still. Then your grandmother stands up. The rest follow her in a mostly quiet procession up the steps.

“Roddy was harsh this year,” Martin whines.

“Nope, you’re just terrible at it. I mean hell even y/n got an answer. It was creepy as all shit but they got an answer,”

“Uh- Is it a good time to ask what just happened?”

Your cousins turn to you.

“You really didn’t tell him anything, did you?”

“How do you propose I bring up the demonic radio?”

“Pffft,”

“Pirst, it isn’t demonic. Do you really think Nay would have kept it if it was?”

“She lets Martin hang around,”

“…….”

“Dis is a good point,”

“HEY”

Tim clears his throat.

“Raaayt, Ok so… once a year we tell the spooky radio stories so we can get answers or our future told,”

“Was the whole creepy walk necessary?”

“Nope,” You answer in chorus.

“It’s just our way of psyching up for it,”

“It’s your guy’s way. Tita at least let’s me hum songs,”

“Well excuse me for not wanting to listen to you sing,”

“Is there anything else you guys want to tell me?”

“Aside from y/n really not wanting to tell-”

You snarl at your cousins, red-faced and bearing your teeth. Martin and Roz cackle as they run. Anthony has the decency to at least look slightly apologetic as he runs.

“Y/n… What aren’t you telling me?”

“Tim, I- I’m- Damn it- I-” You put your hands on your face. You try to calm your breaths. “Look Tim, I-”You take another breath. “I’m sorry. I kissed you but you were drunk-”

“Wait that wasn’t a dream?” There’s a flicker in Tim’s chest.

You look at him mortified. You want the ground to swallow you whole. “Yeah, I- Tim, I know it’s- I’m sorry.”

He remains silent.

Your stomach feels like it’s going to burn up.

“I-”

“I want a redo,”

“A what?”

“A redo,” 

a/n: I will rework the ending at some point but thank you for reading! 

 taglist:   @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders (I wanna drag you into Terry hell), @l-horizon11

#Tim Drake #tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #my writing #batboys #batboys x reader #spooktober #fake dating au

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Living is Harder

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Tim drops the knife like it’s white-hot. Oh, god. Oh, god.

Tim did this. He was...he didn’t mean it. He didn’t. He would never. But the man was on top of him and Tim couldn’t breathe, and...he didn’t mean it.

Tim is walking home from Steph’s house, his light-up Sketchers the only things illuminating his path through the Gotham night. He stayed out later than he planned, utterly captivated in the Among Us tournament he and Steph were playing against their Titan friends all the way in San Francisco. (And Tim would have gotten away with the murders too, if it weren’t for that meddling Bart Allen who stared Tim down every time he killed a player, watching it happen but never reporting until Tim finally cracked from the shame and called an emergency meeting on himself.)

Tim rode in Steph’s car on the way to her house, but forgot that it would mean he’d be without a ride home. Steph offered to drive him back to the manor, that she doesn’t mind losing a measly hour of sleep, but Tim insisted he didn’t mind walking. Besides, it’s not like it was a lie. Sure, it’s Gotham, which means Tim can see drug deals going down on street corners and the occasional drunkard puking into a trash can, but Tim feels at peace here.

It brings him back to his early days of climbing fire escapes, tailing Batman and Robin under the cloak of night in the hopes to get just one more photo for his collection. It was a simpler time with fewer psychotic clowns—back then it was just the one, and all he did was tell shitty jokes and occasionally tie Robin up over a swimming pool filled with Jokerized sharks. Nowadays it’s all grotesque murders and creepy masks made of human skin. Where’s the showmanship? Where’s the pizzazz? Disgusting. Deplorable. Lazy beyond all reason. Tim is insulted by the lack of artistic ability in these new Jokers, and you may quote him on that. Regardless, Tim takes comfort in knowing that if something did go wrong, Cass is patrolling somewhere a good five blocks ahead. Maybe he can track her down and pick them up some corn dogs. He’s currently in the Red Hood’s territory, but whether Jason is around at the moment is a gamble at best. His schedule is harder to tamp down than a solid answer on Ted Cruz: Zodiac Killer. Jason might not even be in Gotham right now; he could be in space for all anyone knows. Sometimes Tim feels like Jason is more of a feral cat than a brother, which isn’t too far off, really. Tim happens upon an empty beer can on the sidewalk in front of a boarded-up store that he’s fairly certain used to be an adult film shop. Good ol’ Gotham City. He stoops down to pick up the crinkled can like the good samaritan he is and drops it into a trash can at the mouth of a nearby alley. He wipes his hands on his jeans, designer style be damned. That’s when Tim is grabbed from behind, a hand reaching up to cover his mouth and muffle his shout. He’s pulled into the alley and pushed up against a wall, the bricks digging into his back and knocking the breath from his lungs. Shit, shit, shit. How could he have been taken by surprise so easily? It’s hard to make out his attacker in the shadowed alley, the only discernible features being dark eyes and bared yellow teeth—never a good sign. Tim’s hands are pinned together above him in a strong grip, practically wrenching his shoulders from the sockets. He tries to scream, but the man’s disgusting hand presses harder against his mouth. Tim freezes when he feels the poke of a knife at his throat, digging into the skin just below his Adam’s apple. “Make a sound and I’ll gut you,” his attacker says, his voice a low rumble. The stench of cigarettes and alcohol assaults Tim’s sinuses and makes his stomach roll. He’s going to have to be careful about this. Robin could get out of this hold in five different ways with varying degrees of injury to the opponent, but a civilian couldn’t. Even if the only witness is a low-life scumbag, he shouldn’t run the risk. Better to wait until he’s at the point of no return to bust out the Robin moves. Instead, Tim goes for the oldest trick in the book and knees the man in the crotch, hard. It has the desired effect and the grip on Tim’s wrists slackens, the man dropping him with a grunt. Tim ducks out of range and makes a run for it. If he can just get to the street, he should be home free. Even in Gotham City, there are always witnesses to help out a poor, defenseless teenager under attack. Tim almost makes it to the sidewalk when he’s grabbed by the hair, crying out as he’s thrown violently to the ground. Then there’s weight on top of him, pinning his shoulders to the dirty ground under his back. Tim fights, kicking out and delivering purposeful hits under the guise of a panicked struggle. “You little shit,” the man spits. He’s still got a hold on Tim’s hair, which he uses to slam Tim’s head against the pavement so hard that Tim goes blind for a good ten seconds, his head spinning. The back of his scalp feels wet, and he hates to think about what bacteria must be lurking on the ground beneath him. The knife clatters somewhere to Tim’s side and he’s almost relieved until a hand wraps around his throat, cutting off his next breath. Instinct plunges him into panic, choking on the lack of air and scrambling to get a hold on his attacker. Scratching, kicking, desperately trying to loosen the grip crushing his windpipe. “You didn’t have to make this so difficult,” the man tells him. His body presses down on Tim’s smaller form, keeps him trapped against the unforgiving asphalt, and this is it. This is the point of no return he’s been waiting for, but now Tim is here and he can’t do anything about it. Not even Robin could get out of this without a weapon, and Tim has none. He’s powerless. The creep releases Tim’s hair with a whisper of, “Don’t move.” Before he can do anything more with his newly freed hand, though, Tim’s body is thrown into action faster than he can comprehend moving at all. The world goes hazy, time itself turning to molasses. Absently Tim feels muscles flex, sees shapes move in front of his eyes, but someone else might as well be controlling Tim’s body while he’s locked in the backseat, missing the entire ride. One minute Tim is on his back with the creep on top of him, and after a chunk of time that Tim can’t remember participating in, he’s standing against the alley wall with something clutched in his hand. Tim blinks back the fog, but it lingers. He looks down and studies the way his fingers clasp the handle of the knife. That can’t be right. He wasn’t holding a knife before. Tim comes back to his body in increments, a stop-motion reel. First there’s a stinging ache on the back of his head, blood soaking into the back of his shirt and plastering his hair against his neck. His gaze slips from the glinting knife to the blood that covers his hands, warm and sticky. Then he catches a shape on the ground in front of him and Tim’s breath catches in his throat. The man from before is on the ground now, his eyes closed and blood spreading from a stab wound directly over his sternum. Tim drops the knife like it’s white-hot. Oh, god. Oh, god. Tim did this. He was...he didn’t mean it. He didn’t. He would never. But the man was on top of him and Tim couldn’t breathe, and...he didn’t mean it. Tim staggers back until his back hits the cold brick wall, his pulse pounding in his ears so loud the entire city must hear it. He just stabbed a person. He just killed a person. The one rule he’s supposed to follow, the one thing he promised never to do, and he just did it. Without even a second’s hesitation. He took a life. What is Bruce going to say when he finds out? Tim’s legs are made of jello, wobbling in warning until they give out entirely and he slides to the ground, knees pulled in close to his chest. His hands are still covered in blood. A dead man’s blood. He should...he should do something. He should act. First-aid, stop the bleeding, do whatever it takes to help in case there’s a chance. Tim doesn’t move. He doesn’t even try. His limbs have been replaced with rubber, his brain with slush. He just killed a man. In the back of his mind he knows he can’t go home, not like this. Not covered in another man’s blood. Even if he tried, Tim isn’t sure he’d make it two steps without collapsing into a puddle of whatever emotion is making him feel as though he’s rotting from the inside out. His family lives by a code, would sooner die themselves than take a life. Bats don’t kill. Tim doesn’t kill. Tim killed. His fingers shake as they take out his cell phone on autopilot, and the screen is cracked at the corner from when he was slammed into the ground. That’s going to cost money to fix. Tim gets blood on the screen, smudging over his contact list and warping the names. He finds the one he’s looking for and puts the phone to his ear. A ring. Two rings. A click. “This had better be important,” Jason says. Tim swallows. “Um. I—um.” He can’t take his eyes off of the body, lying there still as a corpse. Because it is a corpse. “My...head isn’t working. It’s—something is wrong. With me.” “Are you high or something? Because if you are, I’ll fucking kill you.” That does it. What little resolve Tim held on to cracks in one clean split and a sob bursts through. He covers his mouth with his elbow, choking on gasps. “Jay, I—it was an accident. I swear to god, I didn’t mean to. He was...it wasn’t...I didn’t mean to.” There’s a creak on the other end, maybe Jason sitting up in his chair. Or maybe he just sat down. Maybe he closed a door. Too many things in the world are creaky. “What the hell are you talking about? What happened?” “He’ll kick me out. He’s gonna take Robin away from me.” Something slams—definitely a door. “Kid, tell me where you are.” “I don’t know. It was—” His brain isn’t working. For the first time in his life, logic and reason escape him and Tim’s mind pushes into overdrive, drags him deeper and deeper into oblivion. Bruce is going to find out. He’s going to find out and he’s going to hate Tim for the rest of his life. Bruce doesn't like murderers. “Goddamn it. Tim, listen to me. Can you do that?” It takes a moment, but Tim manages to get out an affirming noise. “I’m going to track your phone and come get you. Don’t move, got it? Stay right where you are. I’ll be there soon.” Jason hangs up, leaving Tim alone again. He drops his phone back on the concrete, uncaring of potential breaks. It’s already been cracked. “He’s going to kick me out,” Tim repeats to the empty alleyway. ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim is cold by the time Jason arrives. Or maybe he’s been cold this entire time. It’s hard to tell. “Fuck,” Jason swears as he takes in the scene before him. The body on the pavement. Tim, huddled against the alley wall, his eyes glazed over as he stares at the body like a horror movie he can’t turn off. Jason isn’t wearing his helmet, just a domino mask. He takes it off when he kneels in front of Tim, makes Tim meet his eyes. “Hey, kid. You with me?” “I killed him.” The words taste acrid on Tim’s tongue, sour. “Don’t worry about that now. Are you hurt anywhere?” Tim doesn’t answer. The back of his head stung before, but the pain is muffled now. Everything is muffled. “I killed him, Jay. I’m a murderer. Bruce is...I’m not supposed to kill. Robins don’t kill. They don’t.” His chest is tight, getting tighter by the minute until it feels like every breath is being sucked in through a tiny straw. “Tim, breathe,” Jason tells him. He puts his hand on Tim’s shoulder, and that helps a little. Gives him something to latch onto. “You’re in shock. Try putting your head between your knees.” Tim does, stares down at the dirty pavement between his sneakers. His eyes linger on an old fast food receipt. It has droplets of blood on it. “I don’t know what happened, I really don’t. He was—it was an accident. He was on top of me and he had a knife and then he was choking me and...I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe, so I just—I just moved. And now he’s dead. I killed him. What am I going to do?” “It was self-defense,” Jason says, as if the answer could really be so simple. “If you hadn’t acted, he would have hurt you. Maybe even killed you. You did the right thing.” “No, it’s—” Tim picks his head up, digs his nails into his knees to keep himself above the fog. “No. I took a life. I’m guilty. I can’t—there’s no coming back from that. There isn’t.” How can he live with himself after this? Does he even deserve to? “What, so you would rather be dead than have to tell Bruce you took a life? Seriously?” “Yes.” There’s no hesitation, not even a pause to let the words soak in. Jason sighs, and Tim is too far gone to decipher what it means. He squeezes Tim’s shoulder once and stands, goes over to the body still lying on the ground. (As if a dead man would go anywhere.) Jason crouches down and takes off one of his gloves, presses two fingers over the man’s neck. After a moment or two, he lets out a breath. “He’s still alive.” Tim’s breath hitches. “Really? Are you sure?” “Pulse is thready, but he’s not dead.” All of the air leaves Tim’s lungs in one huge whoosh, making him lightheaded. “Oh my god. That’s…” That’s good, right? It’s a good thing. It should be a good thing. “Yup. That’s one hell of a relief.” Jason straightens up from his crouch. He reaches into his jacket, pulls out a gun, and fires it into the man’s head. “Jason!” It happens so fast that Tim doesn’t even have the capacity to think about the blood and brain matter splattered over Jason’s clothes, Tim’s shoes, the cracks in the alley’s pavement. “How could you—” “What? It’s not like he was going to walk it off or anything.” “We just—” Tim’s stomach churns. It feels like he’s going to be sick. “We just killed a man.” “No, I killed a man.” Jason holsters his gun, then kicks the body in the side for good measure. “You, however, are off the hook.” “What are you talking about? I stabbed him.” The knife is around here somewhere. That’s evidence. Proof of what happened tonight, what Tim did. What Jason finished. “And I shot him in the head. One of those is worse than the other.” “But I—” “No,” Jason snaps. He lowers himself to look Tim in the eyes. “You didn’t. Kill. Anyone. Got it? I killed him. Your slate is still clean.” “There’s a body. Evidence. I still did this.” Jason grabs the bloody knife and tucks it into his jacket. “No, the Red Hood did this. He cornered the guy in an alley, stabbed him, then shot him in the face. That’s what happened.” Tim shakes his head. “You can’t. You can’t take the fall for me.” “I’m not. I’m the one who killed him, right? I’m just taking responsibility for my own actions, which nobody is going to look twice at because this is the third one this week.” Jason takes Tim by the arm, pulling him upright and keeping him steady when he wobbles. “What about Bruce?” “We’ll tell him the truth. That you got attacked by some creep, I killed his slimy ass like he deserved, and then I let you crash at my place for the night to make sure you were safe. That’s it. Understand?” Tim isn’t sure if he does or not. He’s too numb to attempt puzzling it out, but he does know one thing he can say. “Thanks, Jason.” “Don’t mention it. Just try not to puke on me until we get to my place and I’ll call us even.”

#whumptober 2020 #batfamily #batfam #tim drake #red robin #batman #robin #idiot duckboy #jason todd #red hood #batbros #batboys #fanfiction #fanfic #dc comics #no.9 #'take me instead'

[eisforeidolon]

'stiel shippers are already making up conspiracy theories about how 15x19 ending is actually a fake, homophobic ending meant to fool people and 15x20 will have the true ending where Cass comes back and their ship becomes unequivocally, mutually canon and it's endgame. They've gone full TJLC with the fix-it episode theory and I can't say that I'm surprised at all.

Yeah, negative levels of surprise there. 

When Misha was posting all those travel pictures from around the US while J2 were quarantining, it was all a ruse!  TPTB made him post old pictures to hide where he was and his generic motel rooms could be in Vancouver!  He lives in Washington, so that’s probably close enough he doesn’t have to quarantine anyway!  They can’t leave the guy who saVeD tEH ShOw out of the last two episodes!!  Doesn’t matter that they let the actors spoil Mark P. and Jake A. and Jim B.’s returns, nah, they had to try and keep whether Misha was there or not a surprise!

Now this.  They managed to recognize when an episode was pandering to bibros with 15x19.  Which honestly was a bit of an accomplishment for them, given the hilarious exercise in palpable denial their “meta” about Red Meat is.  It certainly isn’t even all of them that managed it, given the usual blinkered nonsense floating around declaring Dean being drunk is desolation about Castiel (not, you know, hopelessness their whole world is still gonna end and everybody is gone but him, Sam, and Jack - just like their Mary who? nonsense in season 13).  Not to mention the insisting to each other Dean was totally willing to kill Sam to get Cas back, lalalalaing right through how the brothers were offering to kill each other and both be gone for the revival of, again, everybody else.  I digress ... and go on for a bit after this, so have a cut:

The point is, they recognize that having the Winchesters drive off into the sunset together is pandering to bibros, but they refuse to accept that whole scene destroying Castiel’s character was just pandering to them.  Despite how out of nowhere with zero previous buildup to support it being twue lurve it was.  Despite how this was supposedly planned for a year, yet the characters have been more at odds than ever.  Despite how one-sided it was.  Despite how, no matter how much they keep insisting to people in the comments under official CW posts that there is NO WAY to see it as anything but romantic, non-shippers and more casual fans keep daring to say they see it as familial (the NERVE!).  Despite how, while you could fairly say it’s become The Jack Show in recent years, it has never been the Dean & Cas show outside of shippers’ fevered imaginations.  So while pandering to them any harder than was already done is gonna get some WTF from the general audience?  Pandering to bibros just means making Sam & Dean’s show about ... Sam & Dean.  Which nobody in the general audience is gonna bat an eye at.

Doesn’t matter that the network president still talks about doing a revival with, specifically, J2.  Doesn’t matter most of the legitimate press over the series ending focuses particularly on J2 and Sam & Dean’s ending.  Doesn’t matter that the ones the actual co-showrunners consulted about tweaking the finale scripts post-COVID are, repeat it with me, J2.  Jared is totally a cheerleader for their ship, we know this because reasons!  Jensen must have changed his mind since last time he said his character was straight, because nobody’s asked him in the last five minutes and that’s the “right” answer they want him to say!  Misha said Jensen was totally into it and Misha *cough* never lies!

As I’ve said before, I put nothing 100% past Dabb.  I would not be even a little surprised if we get at least somebody mentioning somewhere next episode that Castiel got resurrected off-screen again.  Or if there’s some implication the brothers see him again in a way shippers could pretend totally had to involve hooking up with Dean. However, while we know Misha will bend whichever way the minion $$$ wind blows, and Dabb comes off as desperate for ass-pats on twitter from the hellers & minions blowing smoke up his ass?  He has played both sides for years in ways the general audience can dismiss (again, hard to do that and make reciprocated twue lurve “cannon”).  Dabb is also a co-showrunner with Singer who isn’t all over fandom and seemed kind bemused by it and previously said the ship was never discussed as a thing in the writer’s room while the ‘hellers were insisting their secret storyline was totes in there, guise. 

Likewise, I would be very surprised if after years of being harassed by a handful of disrespectful asshole “fans” to do so, Jensen agreed to just give in and change the character he’s been very invested in playing for fifteen years to please those jerks.  For something that suddenly and arbitrarily changes the character’s sexuality away from how he has explicitly said he has been playing it for fifteen years for a 40+ year old character in the very last episode.  For something Misha has implied he and Berens went behind his back to do in terms of Castiel’s end - that any idiot with two brain cells to rub together could figure out would lead to more harassment directed his way especially if he dared object (and would be objecting to another actor’s choices for their own character). For something that undermines what he has said repeatedly that he sees as the fundamental basis of the show.

None of that matters, though!  They’ve convinced themselves that they’re the only real audience and only they know the true story - the rest of us are just some sad definitely tiny group of pathetic hangers on that don’t understand the show has Changed Now and is really about the grEatEST LurVe stORy nEVeR tolD!  It’s what their whole echo chamber the whole audience wants ... because they say so!  

#destiew #destihellers #anti misha #long post #Anonymous #askboxery

[outoftheframework]

an introduction to the fanon batfamily

Are you new to the DC Batfamily fandom? Or perhaps do you need a refresher on our favorite vigilante disasters? Well, look no further! Here is your holy grail list of the traits/characteristics/cliches we as a fandom have collectively decided to embrace instead of the actual source material. 

Just a quick disclaimer (because people get very passionate about how these characters are portrayed) this is a collection of my headcanons popular on the internet. These are (mostly) in no way canon-correct. 

Let’s start out with the man himself:

BRUCE WAYNE

Has too many kids

Has a problem with adopting small dark-haired children with tragic backstories. It’s literally a compulsion. He cannot stop himself. 

Classic Dad

Doesn’t understand “teen lingo”

Will forget your name

Cannot function by himself (as Bruce)

Can make two dishes correctly: cereal and grilled cheese

Will fall asleep in business meetings

Wears either a three-piece designer suit or no shirt and sweatpants

Many headcanon him as gay.

Valid

My personal option is that he’s a disaster bi

DICK GRAYSON

The cutest child ever created

Robin!Dick is just an endless spout of puns and adorableness

Never grew out of sliding down railings/swinging on chandeliers

Fashion icon but not really

Never lives down Discowing

70s/80s/90s/Early 2000s mashup in every outfit

Simply better with finger stripes

Damian’s real dad

Stop erasing his Romani heritage

BARBARA GORDON

Simply the smartest

Computer science queen

Strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man but at the same time puts up with Dick

Barbara says fuck the joker

Holds one of the two collective braincells

Could and should run the entire GCPD

JASON TODD

One day we all decided that Jay likes Shakespeare more than his family

Literature icon

Destined to be chained to Roy Harper forever

Better with the white hair streak

“fuck y’all; did you die??”

Actual zombie

Needs a dog

Of Latinx descent

fucking crowbars, man

CASSANDRA CAIN

Stop excluding her from fanart??

Sign language and disability icon

The best fighter of the bunch

Fashion icon but like actually

A sweetheart that needs to be protected at all costs

Bruce’s favorite child

Of Asian descent

DUKE THOMAS

Literal ray of sunshine

Also needs to be in more fan content

!!!!!!

Owner of the other collective brain cell

Common. Sense.

Confused but excited

“Um, why is there a turkey in the bat- you know what? Never mind.”

Invented the color yellow

TIM DRAKE

Out of every headcanon, Tim’s being a coffee/caffeine addict is somehow almost universally accepted 

Alfred worries about this kid 24/7

Cursed to always be 17

The detective Robin who is always 20 steps ahead

The N52 Red Robin series is a treasure and the injustice done to it is unacceptable

Needs long hair

Fancast is definitively Ryan Potter

Skateboards

“Drake” superhero name is stupid and we should say it

STEPHANIE BROWN

Purple icon

Bring back waffle-obsessed Steph

If she’s not dating Tim she better be dating Cass

Her Robin career was too short 

Steph said Gay Rights

Somehow at the manor 24/7 when she doesn’t live there

Sometimes the bane of Bruce’s existence

Sassy queen

DAMIAN WAYNE

“TT” every other sentence in fanfiction

(I am guilty of this)

Better when Jon’s his best friend

Stop erasing his Arabic background

“Demon Spawn”

Okay but literally when did this start? I see this in every fanfic.

Always carrying a katana (?)

Dick’s actual son

Somehow I feel like this is controversial but I’m not sure why. Not saying these are all “correct,” they’re just common in the fandom :) hope this helps! feel free to add more tropes/cliches. Thanks for reading!!

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!!! MSG ME FOR DETAILS :)

#batman #batfam #batfamily #batfamily fanfiction #batman fanfiction #dc #dc comics #bruce wayne #dick grayson #barbara gordon #jason todd #cassandra cain #duke thomas #tim drake #stephanie brown #damian wayne #nightwing #batgirl #red hood #robin

[batfam-rewrites]

Batfam During Quarantine: Avatar

Dick: Okay, lets try to keep the craziness to a minimum. Harper and Cullen are quarantining for two weeks so lets not do anything to make them jealous.

Duke: *Duke and Tim walk into the room* Omg, We just finished watching Avatar The Last Airbender for like the fifth time right now! I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUCH!!! WHY DID THEY EVER TAKE IT OFF OF NETFLIX!!!

Dick: Guys, come on. I literally just said to keep the craziness to a minimum.

Tim: They have Netflix set up on their tv. They should be fine.

Damian: What is Avatar The Last Airbender

Everyone: *gasp*

Selina: Some....

Jason: Sh ta ta ta ta. *presses his finger to Selina’s lips* Don’t speak, I know just what you’re sayin’, so please stop explainin’.

Selina: Really Jason? How long have you been waiting to use that one?

Jason: *breaks into a dance* All night long, all night.

Stephanie: What is going on with you Jason? 

Tim: I know right? You don’t ever listen to Lionel Richie, let alone pop music.

Jason: It’s his fault! *points at Dick* Him and his stupid playlist!

Dick: “Don’t Speak” isn’t on my playlist though.

Jason: I ummmm...... radio.

Dick: *gasp* You listen to No Doubt!

Jason: No! Maybe!

Dick: O-M-G!

Jason: They’re a guilty pleasure! Now don’t mention it again.

Cassandra: Guys!!! What is The Last Airbender?

Duke: *starts to explain but Dick holds him back*

Jason: *to Damian and Cassandra* You poor depraved children.

Damian: I’m not a child.

Jason: Hahaha, your cute. Avatar The Last Airbender is the beautiful brain child of Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. It is a fantastic series that can not be summarized by anyone or even a movie. Anyone who tries instantly robs the person of the magic of the original series and ruins the exper.....

Damian: You know what, screw it. This isn’t worth it.

Dick: NOOOO! Come on Dami, we can watch it all together, just the nine of us.

Duke: Yeah, come on Damian.

Stephanie: It’s a really great series Dami.

Cassandra: I mean I’m interested.

Tim: *turns his head towards Cassandra* We already knew you were on board. *turns his head back to Damian*

Damian: Fine, I’ll give your stupid show a chance.

Everyone: Yaaayyyyy!!!! *they all start to head down stairs when Dick gets an alert on his phone*

Dick: Actually, this is going to need to wait. Cass and Tim, come with me. I’ll alert Babs and Kate.

Jason: Why, what’s up?

Dick: There’s been a murder at Blackgate.

Batman, Batwoman, Batgirl, Red Robin, Orphan, and Commissioner Gordon

Jim: Batman and, wow there are a lot of you!

Batman: We want to try and get this over with as soon as possible.  

Jim: Very well. Victim is Julian Gregory Day, better known as Calendar Man. The body was found at 10:15. He left his cell at 10 to meet with the D.A. to talk about getting a reduced sentence. Both of the prison guards who were escorting Julian Day were knocked out during the attack. All of the camera’s were out, too.

Batwoman: The marks on his neck suggest that he was strangled and can’t quite tell but there’s something under his fingernails. He couldn’t have saw this coming but he definitely tried to put up a fight.

Batman: Okay, Batgirl and Orphan, lets have you head to the morgue with the diener and see if they could find out what’s under his finger nails. Batwoman, question Hugo Strange. Go through the audio files and see what you can find. Red Robin, you and I will see what any of the inmates in the cell block know. Jim, order your men to check the other camera monitors for anything suspicious.

Jim: I’m not one of your......

Batman: *glares at Jim Gordon*

Jim: I could figure out your identity any time I want. 

Batman: *smirks* Is that a promise?

Jim: It’s a door I’m willing to keep closed unless you cross the line.

Batwoman

Something she didn’t mention at the crime scene was that there was traces of reddish brown hair, so that points fingers at James Gordon Jr, Clock King, Edward Nigma, and Roxanne Sutton. Kate has her suspicions, but as of right now everyone is a suspect.

Hugo Strange: Hello Batwoman. How may I assist you?

Batwoman: I need to know about a few of your patients.

Hugo Strange: You know I can not tell you much I am.....

Batwoman: I am familiar with the confidentiality agreement. I need to know about Julian Day.

Hugo Strange: Poor guy. It’s a shame what happened to him. His most recent audio files are all yours. You’ll find the information you need in there.

Batwoman walked out of the room and began listening to the files in the secret Batcave in Blackgate.

Batgirl and Orphan

Batgirl: *walks into the door* Ugh, what is that smell?

Orphan: Rotting goat sex.

Batgirl: *burst out laughing* What?

Orphan: Rotting goat sex. 

Batgirl: What made you say that?

Orphan: Red Hood told me that’s the name of the yellow squares you put on sandwiches. The ones that go bad over time and smell like this room.

Batgirl: Okay, don’t listen to Red Hood anymore. It’s called cheese Orphan.

Orphan: Cheese. Okay. Got it.

Batgirl: So, how are you enjoying quarantine in the mansion.

Orphan: It’s not bad. Been sparring a lot. 

Batgirl: Who exactly? You’re not hurting my boyfriend right?

Orphan: Nope, but I kicked Helena’s butt a few times.

Batgirl: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY!!!

Coroner: *walks out* Hey, so the.... Sorry, am I interrupting something.

Batgirl: No. Tell us about the body.

Coroner: Okay so prior to his death it seems the victim was drugged with a depressant. Obviously slowing his reactions. Underneath his fingernails are threads from the string that was used strangle him and some dead skin cells.

Batgirl: There’s not a lot of options for strings except for shoelaces, and unless someone has a very old shoelace, that means the string had to have come from outside the prison.

Coroner: Correct, the threads are definitely not made from the same material as the shoelaces.

Orphan: Anything else.

Coroner: Yes, there was some short white hairs found on his body which is odd, but probably from facial hair or eyebrows.

Batgirl: Thanks! Let us know when you have an idea who those skin cells belong to. *both Barbara and Cassandra start walking away* Tell Red Robin what we found out.

Orphan: But we’re supposed to report to Batman.

Batgirl: Fuck Batman.

Selina, Bruce, Lucius, and Alfred

At Wayne Tower

Bruce: *starring at his computer screen* If I buy this company, then I can buy a donut, and the cosmic donut will make me live forever, plus more profits, because three coffees plus one donut equals one Tim. *Lucius Fox knocks on the door* Do you want to build a snowman?!

Lucius: Mister Wayne, we need to talk.

Bruce: What is it Lucius?

Alfred: You’re overworking yourself.

Bruce: *looks up from his computer* Dad, I mean Alfred, Selina, what are you doing here?

Selina: No simple way to say it but this is an intervention.

Bruce: I don’t need an intervention.

Selina: Bruce, it’s been a bit over two months since quarantine began. You’re company is doing just fine. Don’t you think you deserve a break?

Bruce: With a little less help from Red Tim, I need to work as much as possible to get the cosmic coffee back on track. The hacker a few weeks back did a bit of damage.

Alfred: Master Bruce, even the Batman needs a break from time to time. Isn’t that the real reason you have Master Dick running around in the Batsuit instead of you?

Bruce: No! *Bruce takes a moment to think it all over* Partially.

Lucius: You are putting to much pressure on yourself. You keep on talking nonsense and are obviously sleep deprived.

Bruce: No! I’ve haven’t put enough pressure on myself since I became Batman. Once Batman came into the picture I didn’t focus on the company any longer. And I’m not sleep deprived, I’ve slept 4 hours last night! I’m getting more than enough sleep.

Lucius: You had more of an impact on the company then you think. If it weren’t for you acting as a real CEO, we wouldn’t be doing a going green initiative, there wouldn’t be a yearly fund going out to local orphanages, you created a functioning way for employees to work from home while increasing productivity. I can go on for hours about the positive things you have done as Bruce Wayne.

Selina: You have done so much. Come home, sleep. Enjoy time with you’re family.

Bruce: I can’t do that, I can do more. I can help other companies, too.

Alfred: I remember one time, it was when you turned 5, your father was supposed to be at the hospital. However, the day before he had worked all day to make his patients feel better, so he could spend the next day with you. He wouldn’t have missed your birthday even if it would cause the end of the world. Master Thomas knew the importance of taking time off to spend time with his family. It is time that you do the same.

Bruce begins to tear up. He reflects on how often his father worked day and night, but regardless how often he worked, he always had time for him and his mother. He knew his father loved him with all his heart. Then he thought of Alfred. He wasn’t really his father but Bruce always saw him as one after his parents died. Alfred loves him as much as he loves his own family. 

Bruce: *rolls his chair back and walks over to hug Alfred* Thank you Alfred.

Alfred: Anytime sir.

Batman, Batwoman, Batgirl, Red Robin, and Orphan

*In the Blackgate Batcave*

Batman: What did we find?

Orphan: The threads under Julian’s finger nails came from a string outside of the prison meaning that it could be one of the employees who’ve killed him. Skin cells under his nails are being scanned now, and white hairs were found on his body. Also cheese is not called goat sex.

Red Robin: WHAT! *Dick and Tim start laughing hysterically* 

Batman: Why would you think that!

Batgirl: Jason told her. That’s beside the point though.

Red Robin: *whispers to Dick* What did you do?

Batman: *whispers to Tim* I don’t know.

Batgirl: Stop whispering, we can all see you!

Batman: Got it. Kate what did you find?

Batwoman: Day was in an extreme state of paranoia before he died. Talks about how he was going to tell the D.A. about corruption in Blackgate.

Batman: Interesting, did he say anyone’s name?

Batwoman: It’s not clear, but I would assume so.

Batman: That makes sense. When Red Robin and I interviewed his cellmate, Drury Walker, he said he was starting to suspect something was going to happen. He had suspicions that James Jr. was going to kill him.

Batwoman: If I had to assume, I would say the same. I noticed a large sum of reddish brown hair at the scene where the body was found.

Batgirl: There was white hair found on the body though. With Day being strangled the killer would be close enough to possibly have a few hairs fall onto his body.

Batman: Do you have a sample?

Batgirl: Obviously.

Batman: Okay, I’ll program the computer to scan it. I know it’s not ideal but we’ll find out in twelve hours. Tim, Cass, and Kate, go update Commissioner Gordon. Babs, do you mind if we talk for a moment.

Batgirl: Sure, if you feel like doing so now.

Batman: *takes off the cowl and mask* What’s wrong? 

Batgirl: How could you not tell me Helena was staying at the mansion!

Batman: I didn’t want you to overreact.

Batgirl: How could I not! One of your ex girlfriends is sleeping under the same roof you are!

Batman: Look, this conversation is a bit more complicated than I anticipated so we’ll talk more about it later.

Batgirl: You know what, do yourself one better and just don’t talk to me at all. *Barbara places her mask back on as she storms out*

Red Robin: *sneaks out from behind a door* I swear I totally wasn’t eavesdropping, but that sounded like it could have gone better.

Batman: Yeah, it could have. *Dick than walks out pulling the cowl over his head and placing his mask back on*

Batman and Batwoman

Batman: *knocks on the door*

Hugo Strange: Hello Batman, Batwoman! How may I assist you?

Batman: We have some more questions to ask you.

Hugo Strange: Please, come inside!

Batman: How has James Jr. been doing in his sessions?

Hugo Strange: He has been doing very well! Obviously he had to spend a small period in solitary for killing his cellmates but he is getting better. If he is a prime suspect you may look into his files.

Batwoman: When did you two last meet?

Hugo Strange: Yesterday.

Batman: When did you two conspire the death of Julian Day?

Hugo Strange: I’m sorry, what are you talking about?

Batwoman: *grabs Hugo Strange by the shirt and lifts him* DON’T PLAY GAMES WITH US STRANGE! ANSWER THE QUESTION!

Hugo Strange: I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about!

Batman: We saw that you transferred Day to Gordon’s cell! He has killed every cellmate he’s had! You were sentencing him to death!

Batwoman starts to shake Hugo Strange violently until a gun shot is heard from across the room. 

Batgirl, Red Robin, and Orphan

James Jr.: Hey Batgirl! I see you’re walking again, isn’t that such a neat surprise.

Red Robin: Shut up, James!

Batgirl: James, we want to know what happened?

James Jr.: ..........

Batgirl: Answer my question asshat!

James Jr.: Whoa little sis... I want to stay I was told to shut up!

Batgirl: Do you realize what’s happening?

James Jr.: I’m being interrogated.

Batgirl: You’re going to be transferred to Arkham. If you confess your time there could be reduced! 

James Jr.: Fine... I confess...... I cut open your teddy bear and filled it with razor blades when we were kids.

Batgirl flips the table and pins James to the wall, punching him in the head multiple times. Orphan then runs in, trying to help Red Robin to get Batgirl to stop punching James Jr.

Batgirl: Rot in fucking Arkham for all I care! You should have been sent there to begin with!

Batgirl, Red Robin, and Orphan begin to walk out the door before James Jr. lying on the floor yells.

James Jr.: WAIT! It wasn’t me, I promise!

Batgirl: Doubtful.

James Jr.: Red Robin, come on. I know you’re going to give me a chance. Hear me out.

Red Robin: Batgirl, let’s give him.....

Batgirl: NO! HE HAD HIS CHANCE! HE DECIDED TO WASTE IT!

Orphan: Batgirl. Please.

Batgirl: *stops in the hallway* Fine.

A few minutes later Red Robin is in the interrogation room with James Jr. with Orphan.

Red Robin: James Jr. Did you kill Julian Day?

James Jr.: No.

Off in the distance they all hear the gunshot from Hugo Strange’s office.

James Jr.: And there’s my proof.

Batman, Batwoman, Batgirl, Red Robin, and Orphan

Red lines flow down Hugo Strange’s face as blood pours from the hole in his forehead. Batman and Batwoman turn around to see who fired the shot, and are shocked to see Eduardo Flamingo. Batwoman drops the dead body of Hugo Strange as Flamingo fires three shots at both Batman and Batwoman. Both are unfazed by this and punch him in the face, causing him to fall back on the floor.

Batman: *picks up Flamingo* Who hired you?

Eduardo Flamingo: *cough* You just watched him die.

The GCPD arrives to the room and arrest Flamingo.

Commissioner Gordon: Freeze! You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.

He had confessed to everything. The murders, the contract Hugo Strange offered him to kill Day. No details was left out. By the time they all left the prison it was 12:30 in the morning.

Batman: Batgirl, let’s talk. 

Batgirl: I don’t want to talk.

Batman: Babs, if you won’t talk, then listen, please? *tears start to fill his eyes and make their way down his mask*

Batgirl: If anything, you listen to me *tears streak down her mask as well* I don’t know where I stand in this situation, and right now I really don’t care! For the time being don’t talk to me. *she takes out her grappling hook and leaves the four other members just standing there*

Batwoman: I’m not going to get too involved in this, but you know if you need to talk Dick, let me know.

Batman: Thank you.

The two hug and then go their separate ways.

Dick and Barbara

When they got home, Dick reached for his phone and started to text Barbara. He tried to explain how he never knew Helena was going to show up. How she showed up out of nowhere. How she is his everything, his world, and he doesn’t blame her for being skeptical but he still loves her. 

Barbara doesn’t want to read a word of Dick’s excuses. This has happened before when Dick was dating Koriand’r and Zatanna. Even before they were in a relationship, she knew he at one point was seeing multiple girls at a time. She doesn’t know if he is really sleeping with Helena behind her back, but she knows that she can’t trust Dick for the time being.

After his shower he walked to his room where he saw Helena laying on his bed in her costume. She then tosses his Nightwing costume at him.

Helena: Hey Dick, how about you throw that on and we do a bit of role play.

Dick: Cool, I’m into that. I’ll be Nightwing, the guy who loves Batgirl so much, and you’ll be Huntress, who sleeps on the first floor. You’re going to leave my room and I’ll lock my door for the rest of the night.

Helena: Rough night, lover?

Dick: I told you to stop calling me that.

Helena: I know, but I love it.

Dick: Helena, please just leave.

Dick just lied on his bed staring at his phone, wishing that Barbara would text him back. Fifteen minutes later he hears a knock at his door.

Bruce: Hey Dick! Are you okay?

Dick: What is this? Am I dreaming?

Bruce: No. I heard what happened. Just know if you ever want to talk about it, you can come to me. 

Dick: Thanks Bruce!

Bruce: Want to watch Avatar as a family? Damian told me how you talked him into watching it. I think it’s a fun idea!

Dick: *smirks* Sure!

They both walk downstairs to the media room as they see everyone down there already. He noticed Helena was sitting at the far end of the room so Dick considered sitting by Tim and Stephanie who seemed to have been chatting it up, but decided against it and sat near Damian. 

Dick: *leans over towards Damian*

Damian: Don’t you even think about it Grayson!

Dick: *wraps his arms around Damian* Come on, you know you love my hugs!

Damian: I will cut off your arms in your sleep,

Dick: You’re so adorable when you think you’re threatening.

The episode begins to play and everyone fell silent. As the second one ended everyone looked at Cassandra and Damian to get their reaction.

Cassandra: That was awesome!!! Let’s watch one more!

Damian: It is surprisingly entertaining. A little silly but intriguing.

Jason: WE KNEW YOU WOULD LIKE IT SUCKER!

Tim: One of the greatest shows ever!

#batfam #Alfred Pennyworth #bruce wayne #batman #Selina Kyle #catwoman #lucius fox #dick grayson #nightwing #barbara gordon #batgirl #jason todd #red hood #helena bertinelli #Huntress #Tim Drake #Red Robin #Stephanie Brown #spoiler #cassandra cain #orphan #harper row #blue bird #duke thomas #signal #Damian Wayne #robin #jim gorden #kate kane #Batwoman

[popculturebuffet]

New X-Men Xtrospective Part 3: Imperial (NXM #121-126)

To me all you happy people! And welcome back to my X-Citing look at Morrison’s Masterwork on Marvel’s Merry Mutants!  Part One is HERE, Part Two is HERE if you feel like it. 

If not... to catch you up on last time....

All Caught up? Good. Join me under the cut as our heroes head into this old woman’s hedd to see what’s wrong and fight off an alien army while horribly ill. 

Silent, Psychic Rescue in Process:

So we pick up not long after we left off: Thanks to Beast waking up from his bat induced coma, the X-Men now know Charles is trapped in Cassandra’s body and she pulled a Freaky Friday on him, with marginally less bullets. 

And thus we get this issue. This one was part of Nuff Said, an incredibly clever theme month by Marvel and one I wish they’d try and do again at some point in some form. 

The gimmick was simple but amazing: Every issue would be mostly silent, with at most some dialouge at the start and finish to bookend it. So far i’ve only read two issues of this, this one and the X-Statix one, but it is a genuinely great idea. I do think forcing it on the entire line was a bit much, but as I said I do wish they’d do this again just make it optional: have some books opt in or do some annuals with the theme. It’s just a fun break from the usual and with this issue resulted in one of the best single issues of x-men period. 

Naturally given the name, which is cleverly displayed on a sign the x-men have because of course they do, it’s exaclty that: Emma and Jean after readying themselves (Jean kisses Scott goodbye and Emma downs a bottle of jack because why not do an alchol before doing delecate mental surgery), head in. 

Inside they find horrific old lady head doors, stone ol dlady heads around a tower that shoot lasers, and said doors also bite and puke weird goop because it’s Grant Morrison. This is his chance to just go full balls out weird.. and given last time involved skin flake golemns.. and this isn’t even the weirdest he’s done. As mentioned last time he once had a supervillian run for president using a super LSD Bike that made everyone high. 

And just to prove he can reach that level of weirndess we find charles alone, naked and with an overenlarged brain.. before he transitions Jean to a field of sperm. 

Yeah... but this DOES have a point.. as it turns out it’s a meaphorical transition into his gestation as a baby.. and how he had a twin. Yeah turns out Cassandra was not lying he did try to kill her.. but as you can probably tell by the fact she’s a genocidal sociopath, she lied by omission to screw with Hank: In the womb she tried strangling Charles to death with his own umbilical cord..only for him to use baby’s first psonic blast to send her reeling and his mom tumbling down the stairs and well.. you can probably guess the rest. Yeah.. Cassandra’s entire origin story is concentrated 

And I love it. The sheer audacity is nice and everything but what makes it really work for me is the simple concept: An evil version of charles, one almost born at the same time whose every bit as evil as he is good.. granted there’s a TON of Morally Grey in Charles Xavier ESPECIALLY post decimation and even more so now with Krakoa. But he’s sitll at his heart a well meaning person, while Cassandra at her heart is a racist genocidal nightmare. She is pure evil, with enough personality to not make her boring.. and more importanlty all the power charles has but NONE of his restraint. Part of what makes Charles noble is he only uses his powers when necessary. Cassandra.. has no such restraint and will happily mentally snap necks all day. 

So with this our heroine’s leave and we end on the iconic line “Professor Xavier killed his twin sister in the womb. We Really ought to talk. 

This issue is an utter classic. It finally explains Cassandra a bit while still leaving a ton of questions, Frank Quitely is at his best here, and he and morrison are incrediby good at non verbal storyteling. The result is surreal, unsettling and awesome. Check it out. Seriously seek this one out it’s worth the trip. It’s so famous it was homaged with a spirtual sequel in the recent Giant Size X-Men one shots. It’s excellent stuff

Imperial:

So with our first issue we open with things going terrible on that flag ship Cassandra took off on with Lilandra, empress of the Shiar and Xavier’s space wife. She’s revealed herself, is ravaging the ship and mind rapes a the helmsman into crashing it, so with no other options Lilandra sends Smasher, not the one from the avengers run earlier version, to earth to send a warning to the X-Men. 

At the School things are actually going well for a second. In an intresting move the school is changing things up with no officla timetable.. which I think means there’s no rigid class schedule and you can just do them as you please or as necessary for your power. The plan’s the same, they just want to learn from each other in building mutant society and the future. It’s ideas like this that are the bedrock of the current run and were sadly never fully realized here.. but I don’t blame this run for that. Morrison had 2-3 years and it was cut short early, leading to a rather disapointing ending we’ll get to. They never had a chance to really dig in because they were kicked out by morons and then their whole grand design was undone until Hickman un-undid it in 2019. And even then some of this like the idea of mutant culture and what not hasn’t been picked up on yet. I do mean YET, as given the sheer NUMBER of x books touching on all sorts of subjects, it’s only a matter of if not when. 

As for who’s behind this it’s a combination of Jean and Charles: Jean is using charles notes and is going at full tilt. Scott is concerned though.. both about her since she went Phoenix and Logan told him about it and because these plans may alarm the humans. ON the former Jean just brushes him off which is not right.. given what happened with the phoenix force copy of jean, which granted had her personality, memories and powers and Jean later got a set of her memories so it might as well of been and only MAYBE the genocide is something Jean wouldn’t of done under the same circumstances, he’s understandably concerned. He lost her to it last time and it did weird shit to poor Rachel, who hif you don’t know is their daughter from an alternate timeline... because the Summer’s family tree is a WAKING NIGHTMARE. Thankfully I don’t have to untangle it because there’s a handy chart right here to do it for me that was recently released in X-Men Legends, a new series featuring legendary x creators telling stories in the cracks... and given we’re getitng storys by the simosons and peter motherfucking david, yeah good stuff.

And why yes there are more than one clone in this tree and several alternate timelines. , not to mention several clones and a sexy cat lady, it’s complicated is understnading it and i’m not sure what properly states it honestly. Also if your wondering about Adam there he’s the genetic son of Cyclops mom and the ma Shiar empreror who killed her for not sleeping with him through. Again it’s complicate REALLY feels like understatement. 

Point is he DOES have a right to be worried about the thing that lead to her being cocooned for a while and left their daughter in the future at the time of this... just in case you needed a reminder after that wonderful clusterfuck of a chart up above athe x-men are really fucking weird. 

So Jean brushing that off is not okay. She does however call him out on the second one and rightfully so: This isn’t some dominate the humans manifesto: this is simply changing the course of the future and how they teach their students to create a better one instead of adhering to human norms to try and appease “the republicans’, as jean puts it.. which has only gotten MORE RELEVANT, 20 years on: Attempts to appease the norms of society and things “just because that’s how it’s been” have never been a good thing. It’s why the very writer of this comic took several decades to properly identify themselves as non binary because people were too stuck int heir ways to try and see if there really were just two genders. Fighting against the grain, finding new ways to express things that have always been there... it’s what humanity needs to do and certainly what comes after us would need to do. i’ts how we get better as a race. If something’s not working we change it, quickly or slowly. And given Scott’s huge amount of emotoinal repression lately.. I can see why she’d see the former complaint as just him being a dick as opposed to the genuine concern it is. 

Short Version: Jean Grey is fucking awesome and while he’d be the last to write her for decades, no one did it better than Grant and no one has since.  Hopefully Gerry Duggan can clear that bar. 

After this fight we get a fuller verson of what happened both at the end of issue 120 and in the big reveal last issue: Turns out Hank awoke because Charles piloted his body like a truck and needed it revealed fast. Hank’s regained control of his body and facilities by now, but in a twist of irony he helpfully points out, had Cassandra not gone a needlessly cruel and sociopathic tangent and had Beak beat Beast into a coma, Charles wouldn’t of had a body. 

As for Charles in cass’ body he’s now in a tub of goo created by it. 

It acts as a shield as well as melding him with Cerebra so he can talk to jean telepathically as his thoughts are very weak.

Thanks to this and her psychic Jaunt, Jean now knows just what the hell cassandra is: She really is Charles twin sister. As for how the hell she surivied outside of the womb and how Charles never knew, she created herself a clone body using his cells and didn’t fully manifest till now. And while she has plenty of intellegence, at an emotional level she’s fully convinced, much like an infant that only she and charles are real and thus destroying him means gaining domance over her world. So in short she’s both utterly insane and now has an interstellar empire at her fingertips. 

And the news SOMEHOW get sworse: She booby trapped her body and charles only has days before he’s vegatable, having put every psychological disease possible in there, and she’s probably responsible for their colds and the u-men. So in short their pretty scrwed but at the very least Charles plans to try to flip things, use the fact their now public (a clear tactic to weaken them) to share his manefesto, his last will and testiment if you would. 

Scott meanwhile figures since their sick a healer might be a good idea and goes solo to fetch Xorn... who just sorta disappeared after the annual and didn’t return till his arc. 

We get an utterly touching scene after this: With Logan staying on his hobbit like toes in case of another attack, Jean goes to talk to hank. Hank is still throughly traumatized from the attack, fearing Cassandra is right and he’ll just keep devlovling until he ends up in a metamoprhisis type situation. I mean it’s not ALL bad hank,.. I mean going through that guarantees a musical about you. 

But Jean reassures him: It’s okay to be afraid of her, they all are.. but as she puts it...

It’s a really powerful inspiring scene... and really afirms how well Morrison writes Jean from the previous arc onward. She’s confident, powerful.. but also caring and compassionate. Here hank’s at his lowest, disparing that this might get worse.. and she reaffirms that htis evolution is an upgrade.. he may not be the same.. but that’s okay. He’s better. It really speaks to the core message of the X-Men as a whole and why they’ve stuck around all this time: It’s not just okay your diffrent.. it’s WONDERFUL. Your wonderful for being you. Whatever meataphor you read into it, it’s at it’s core a message that no matter who hunts you or trys to shame you for what you are, they are wrong and you are wonderful. And you are not alone... your people are out there.. and they will go through hell to protect you. It’s moments like this that remind me despite the bad parts, the accidnetal transphobic metaphor last time, a subplot with Hank coming up, the affair storyline and Planet X, just.. Planet X.. this run is special to me for a reason. It has heart, character and truly gets how the x-men should work, what makes them great... while making something NEW AND FRESH from it’s bones. Pushing envelopes, chanigng things for good and shaking things the hell up after far too much stagnation. It’s just pure good comicy goodness and i’m proud to finally be talking about it after having always wanted to. 

So as we end the issue Scott grabs Xorn, whose been at a budist temple all this time, and Smasher arrives to warn earth... but his warning missed his intended target. 

Well at least he got to Hellcow’s coven.. maybe she can call in Man Eating Cow and the Chick Fill A Super Cows.. thought hey might not help. Their parent company IS pretty homophobic.. I doubt their high on mutants either. 

Testament Emma and Jean talk over things how i’ts going etc, with Emma unsuprisingly annoyed with most of the students and Jean optimsitc.

But Emma soon has bigger issues to deal with: TEEN ANGST!

Yeah 4/5 of the Cuckoos are upset Esme has a boyfriend. Their concerns in part are because without her their apparently powerless.. which given one will die and another will leave and they’ll be left with three is just factually not true, and either Morrison changed his mind later, or more likely their simply exagerating like teens do. Emma points out it’s pointless to fight this...

So... their in a domestically abusive relationship rife with sexual tension? Are you sure your not htinking of Sam and Diane, Ross and Rachel, Garfiled and Odie perhaps?

Meanwhile Angel’s sulking in a tree talking about how all the kids are stupid and she dosen’t fit in. That sort of thing. Wolverine naturally has a tactful and understandable response to this:

It’s here Angel goes from understandable, a bit hard edged and obnoxious becuase of a very rough life.. and just becomes annoying.  I do get what Grant was trying to do: he was trying to play with Wolverine’s habit of taking sassy teens under his wing by giving him a more hardscrabble one with a harder life pre-xaviers.. not that Jubilee’s was easy, but I get what he was going for.. he just dosen’t succeed. Instead of a realistic version of a teen sidekick she just comes off as an obnoxious brat whose rude to everyone including her one friend Logan and her later boyfriend.  It dosen’t help that ONCE AGAIN, Morrison flew directly into unfortunate implications without meaning to, by having the only major POC character (Bishop guest stars later and there are two significant characters during the Riot at Xaviers arc but both aren’t relevant before or after), be an abused teen with gross fly based powers and a teen pregnancy subplot. Seriously this isn’t even the LAST time Morrison shoves their foot in their mouth like this in this run. While I do like this run a lot, it’s still 20 years old and it’s still going to have a bunch of bits that have aged like harvarti left on a sidewalk, and handing out unfortnuate implications like their candy is tied for the biggest with their handling of Magneto when he finally shows up in person. It’s THAT bad a take on the character that it’s up there with accidental racisim and transphobia. 

So moving on from.. that we get Jean comforting the professor before meeting the press, giving a throughly lovely speech about how Charles got his powers 30 years ago and despite seeing the worst in humanity, used his telepathy to allow him to see past it and see deep down just how scared and alone we all felt. So she takes them into a psychic conference room and we get a very interesting exchange. 

It’s an interesting parallel to how real world disinfranchised groups, how it takes time.. but soon being a POC or LBGTQ+ goes from unrightfully perscuted to celebrated. How a group starts with hates whipsers on the fringe of things but grows to be accepted, like it always SHOULD have been. Take representation of Trans people in the media. It started with Trans people being almost entirely punchlines and sources of fucking horendous “DID DEY USED TO BE A MAN.” storylines and hurtful jabs at people who had transitioned, treating them as a sideshow instead of you know as fucking human beings. But now coming out as what you always were ont he inside is celebrated. Sure the right are dicks about it but they always will be: but most media gladly celebrates when someone comes out as trans. Same with being gay, or bi or pan or polamorus or nonbinary.  Hell I admire grant for showing i’ts not even 100% perfect once you are popular: you still have to grapple both with people wanting to copot your culture and those who still don’t understand you trying to speak for you. 

She also gets the standard question calling the X-Men an army, shoots it down with the normal global peacekeeping operation stuff.. then we get this bitch. 

Who quickly realizes she’s outclassed by Emma Frost, professional that bitch. And while Jean is understandbly going to have to erase that.. I can’t blame her for snapping her.

Just to tear this shit down.: The privacy thing is not something she’s doing. All she’s doing is spcyhic teleconfrencing, you harpy. They fight greek gods and monsters to protect your sorry ass and the last one.. just makes me absolutely livid and feels so much like a real world comment i’m suprised there isn’t a fox news logo next to her bigoted head. 

Trouble follows them everywhere they go.. because their mutants. They can’t help it. A LOT of shit like the demons, aliens, and gods and what not, I do not know if they actually did fight the greek gods but i’m not going to say for sure they did not, the norse gods defintely, not sure on greek. But the point is allt his stuff HAPPENS TO THEM half the time, or is a consequence of trying to PROTECT PEOPLE. I’m so nettled by this because this is how the marvel unvierse acts all the fucking time towards ALL super powered peoples. Mutants esepcailly but they blame the heroes and what not for being chased and harassed by guys in costumes or alien invasions or all the stuff they FIGHT. Sure sometimes they caused it but it’s either because of a monsterous person with a grudge or just because their powerful and some douche took an intrest. I’m just.. so fucking tired of asshole civlians in comics. It’s realisitc I know but it’s just hard to stomach after so many have turned their back on so many for such DUMB reasons. 

Jean recovers well pointing out the genocide and how 16 million people, 16 million possible einsteinss or mozarts are just GONE, and that their trying to focus on the future. She also brings up autistic savants who can talk to atoms and while I don’t like the use of the savant thing, as it brings to mind stuff like rainman I very badly want to see this autistic kid who can talk to atoms as someone on the spectrum myself. Also I just want the crew of HIckma’ns books in general to pour over this because there are a lot of intresting powers and personalities only MENTIONED we never saw proper that could be great characters. Just saying. 

Jean cocludes her speech to the world, including Logan whose wisely getting hammered at anearbye bar.. while Hank finds out what’s going on with their sickness.. nanonscopic sentnels in the blood. 

But while the press confrence ends well with Jean having won over the press.. things go sideways as not only is it clear Esme’s boyfriend is in fact something sinister.. but Jean falls over due to the nano snetinels, and senses Scott being taken in tibet, taken down by a group of the Shiar’s imperial guard.. picutre the legion of superheroes but blindly loyal to the goverment and far more likely to get killed. And the rest are preparing to attacking including Gladiator who if you don’t know him, has all the powers of superman as long as he retains his confidence. 

And it turns out Esme’s boyfriend is an advanced Scout, the shapeshifting amoeba blob thing Stuff, a new addition by morrison and good on him. And the Imperial Guard are here but with one goal

 Superdestroyer

On the Ship we find out both wha’ts going on with Scott and Xorn, they’ve been taken and why the shiar are attempting mutant genocide: Cassandra is puppeting ALL of them, has convinced them the mutants are infected and since Lilandra is a puppet, Scott’s words fall on deaf ears. 

Meanwhile Wolverine ambushes one of the squads, kiling one named Dinosaurer via claw to the brain, while Emma has had a dome thing put over her head and isn’t transforming into diamond to counter it because...

But the Cuckoos fight back, taking out oracle before easily handling stuff since his brain is fairly simple.. and given he’s racist against solid people and unlike the others reveling in the genocide just a tad.. yeah what he deserves. So now with a living weapon the Cuckoos make peace with Angel as they need all the help they can get. 

Jean ushers the press into the panic room, not happy about it but not having anothe roption for their saftey. Hank tells her to self distruct crebra if cassandra get sclose and goes off to join the fight and let off some steam over the situation. Hank easily routes two of them, and one , Manta tries to just fly right ot jtean wince their TK proof. How does that go?

Jean gets to saftey after that, not that she needs it and hank is quickly taken down by a batch of Superguardians.. only for Wolverine to arrive in the Sknitt of time and chop them up.. oh and as one of the puts it...

Bad. Ass. I also like the addition of the flight patch, a nod to the Legion, who the Imperial Guard were based on as those kids used flight rings. 

But while Logan and Hank easily tag team these assholes...

The SHiar call in the big guns.. Gladiator.. and I wasn’t kidding abotu the superman thing. While Logan TRIES to talk him out of it, the murders only confirm Cassandra’s bullshit and Gladiator breaks into the panic room throwing hank and wolverin’e before them having utterly decimated them off panel. I mean Wolvie is a badass.. but even he has limits. I also like recontecullizing the guard as a whole here.. showing just how TERRIFYING they SHOULD be as enimies to the x-men. Yes our heroes did win.. but barely and only till Gladiator showed up. In most cases thier clearly holding back out of affection but here hteir just at errifying unstoppable force, and also apparently used to doing genocides like this. It takes what was a cheesy shout out to David Cockrums other big artistic work, and makes it horrifying and it is AWESOME. I admit to not having liked this arc as much for the longest time but this reread, the sheer teror and hopleessness as an interstellar superman easily cuts through our mighty mutants like tissue... it’s awesome. 

Thankfully one of the Guard found smasher.. and thus the truth comes out so our heroes are given a stay of execution with Gladiator clearly horrified at what he almost did and our heroes now so sick they can barely move and Hank can’t think them out of this. 

Thankfully he dosen’t has to as back in space, Cyclops tires of it and points out something Xorn, not being as experinced nor having delt with the guard ahd thought of: G-Type, the glowly guy about to execute them, is made of solar energy.. and xorn can manipulate that thanks to his star brain. He does, they take out the rest.. and prepare to go save the day.

Losers: PIcking up shortly before where we left off we see Cassandra murder Lilandra’s advisor who figured out what she was just as our heroes escape.. and as Cassandra is having Lilnadra order all of the shiar ships to immolate themselves. 

WIth Lilandra not being any use, Cass tries to psychically force her to commit sucidie but jumping off a space ledge but Xorn saves her. Cass tries another turn at mentally breaking an x-man, pointing out all scott’s recent flaws, his increased repression his faling marriage and while it gets him to stop it dosen’t quite work as well as it did on hank, likely because at his heart Hank is simply a more emotive person. Though his REAL reason for stalling is he can’t kill charles.. which he muses just as the ship blows up real good. 

Meanwhile back at Campus the kids initaiate their plan, having Angel break in and take a dna sample. She also finds beak naked in a tank and decides eh why not and brings him with her. This ends up paying off as Beak suggests the obvious to get emma free.. just force the space guy they have over in the corner to do it. They do and it works

Back in the mansion our heroes prepare for Casssandra... but Jean and Logan object to saving her body, pointing out that getting hank to repair it is exactly what she wants, and that Jean feels she can save charles without uit, with Hank being understandably doubtful given their current condition.. but Jean’s real plan is to put charles in her head and it’s already too far in actoin to stop now: she’s been saving his memories as they flaked off and if she dosen’t do this now there will be no charles left. 

Hank evacuates the civlians to teh danger room, and has an encounter with trish who tries to apologize and get him back.. only for him to rightfully regjecter her..a and then goes a step further by capping it off with:

Yeah on it’s own it’s not TERRIBLE. Still very dated to claim your gay just to spite someone, but for the time it was acceptable and compared to some of Morrison’s other gaffes in the run it’s minor at best. But it leads into a rather annoying subplot we’ll naturally get to that’s a much bigger issue, so i’ll save talking about it in full for when it comes up again. 

Jean manages to shove Chuck into her head, but is naturally leaking a bit and barely holding it or him together and may of overestimated herself just a tad.. while on the lawn Cassandra easily takes out the guards. That said the scene of Jean taking Chuck into her head is REALLY damn awesome. Jean is the arc MVP by a mile and Hank is pretty dang good competition. 

All Hell: We open the final issue of the arc with Scott and Xorn escaping the spaceship using some teleport tubes taking Arakai and Lilandra with them. 

We open with Cassadra utterly humilating gladiator while the kid team prepares to fight her despite you know, the 8 billion to 1 odds against them. 

Jean, despite hte discknes and trying to keep an old man in her brain marches out , prepared to fight, for the kids sake. For the world’s sake. But Logan’s easily taken out and with Jean barely holding it together.. the kids prepare to fight.. likely being slaughtered even if they mean well.. onlyf or help to finally arrive with Scott and Xorn glowy porting in. We get a really sweet , short moment with scott and jean...

Scott not knowing the situation tries to have Xorn heal charles first but since Cassandra’s body is dead and unoccupied that’s a no go.. he’s still usefult hough, curing Jean of her nanosentital sickness and moving on to Scott and Hank while there’s still time. 

We find out more about cassandra: She’s a murrmadi, a bodyless parasite.. eseetinally the dark first test a person faces... she just stuck around because she was one for a telepath.. the world’s STRONGEST telepath. But really other than that part the rest just feels like stuff we alreayd heard LAST TIME, mildly repaackaged and seems enitrley like filler to pad the issue out. 

So while Jean takes cerebra, both to keep it away from Cassandra’s plans of mutant genocide and for whatever she has planned, Scott, Hank and Xorn prepare to hold the line.. and as Jean mentions.. emma’s still out in the wild. 

So we get our climactic showdown.. logan, hank and xorn veruss cassandra, with Cassandra trying to do eveyrthing she can, tear them down mentally, throw out the students with our heroes fighting back best they can. It’s good stuff.  

Eventaully Cassandra gets to Jean.. but she’s already inacted her plan, putting a piece of Xavier’s mind in EVERY mutant, and giving Cassandra one ohell ofa reason you suck speech. 

It’s an incapsulation of what i said earlier and what the runs about: alone we are weak but together.. we just might make it. More on that as we go. But thanks to Cass naturally going fo rcerberba.. she accidently restores charles and is left bodyless.

Emma finishes the fight with her own brilliant gambit, presending cassandra her body.. but it’s actually stuff , reprogrammed into a sentient brain for her to inhabit and leaving her trapped, with Charles hoping t teach the now mentally reset Cassandra.  So Cassandra is beat, the virus is stopped, and our heroes have one.. but naturally for this run.. there’s one last suprise in store. 

Charles can walk again.. and going forward will be a far more active member of the team. The team is complete, Cassandra is beaten, and the future.. is bright. 

Final Thoughts:

This arc is a mixed bag.. it has really good scenes with the first and last issues being the standouts, with the former being an utter classic with an intresting gimick and the latter being a rousing climax with tons of awesome moments, with some good mometns scattered throughout.

But that’s the arc’s issue.. it has good moments and ideas.. but they don’t quite work togehter. The idea of teh Shiar Imperial Guard nearly doing a genocide is good, but the Shiar are such flat characters.. it’s really hard to care. They just don’t have enough connection to the x-men to really have the betryal sting but aren’t callous enough for genocide protocols to maeks sense. It’s a good idea, I still support it being terrifying.. but not enough is done with it and it feels liek Grant is more concerned with throwing weirdos at the x-men than actually saying something. 

The biggest issue however is the art. While inconsitant art is an issue as they’d rotate artists.. but in previous arcs it was usually pretty evenly split but here it’s sloppy: Quitely does the first issue, van Sciver the second.. and the worst of the three Igor Kordey does most of the art. I gave him the beinfit of the doubt last time.. but this time not so much. His art is muddy and tries to be stylized but comes off confusing,ugly and not great. He’s probably a lovely guy but given he’s up against two legendary artists, his lack of style comapred to both shows badly.  And given the arc is alreayd a bit overly complicated, it makes things WORSE by giving us muddled art in a very complex storyline. The flip flopping art makes a fairly intricate story very hard to follow. It’s easily why this arc didn’t grab me in the past and even seeing some better moments, it’s not the series best. It’s not the worst either, Planet X easily takes that ground despite having far better art. It’s an incredibly muddled incredibly long feeling arc and really needed to be compressed by one or two issues but instead is just hard to get through. It’s owrth it for the rest of the runa nd the good moments within but all in all easily one of the weakest points in the series. 

Next Month on New X-Men:The X-Men soak in the new world order, and we meet fantomex, dust and the last surivivors of genosha. 

Next on this blog:Green Eggs and Ham is back!

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#new x-men #x-men #grant morrison #wolverine #logan howlett #cyclops #scott summers #jean grey #emma frost #beast #henry mccoy #cassandra nova #charles xavier #gladiator #lilandra neramani #the shi'ar imperial guard #smasher #kubark #xorn #shen xorn