#minus the billionaire part though

[allandoflimbo]

Never Again | (2)

Pairing// Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Type of story// Multi-Chapter

Bucky and Y/N hate each other. A lot. This isn’t your average enemies to lovers story. This is an enemies and lovers story. It will be dark. There will be sex. 

Never Again masterlist || updated every thursday

Venice, Italy

Bucky looked at himself in the mirror as he put his earpiece in and then tightened his black tie around his neck. 

He can’t remember the last time he wore a suit. 

It was all black, minus his dress shirt which was white. His hair was starting to grow again, but it was still a bit short. 

He had cut it shortly after Asa’s death. 

His jaw clenched and unclenched as his thoughts continued to trace back to her. 

He was in Venice for the gala where he’d meet the person who knew who had this real necklace.  The person who killed Asa was expected to be here, too. Just the thought of being in the same city as them sent him off edge.

His eyes linger for a bit on his ring and then back up to his own eyes in his reflection.

He can see sam walking behind him into the other room in their suite. He’s also dressed, even though his rendez-vou will mostly take place outside the venue.

For a second, Bucky’s gaze falters.

Despite Bucky’s natural need for revenge, he understood Sam’s hesitancy for him to participate in his mission and so up close. A part of Bucky almost backed out when it became closer to today’s date. 

He was even going to make a call, when someone reached out to him first instead.

Shuri, and then Fury.

Due to lack of resources from the Blip, Bucky was their best bet for this when it came to taking Hayden hostage and in their custody until the necklace was found. 

Then, she’s to be arrested and taken straight to Wakanda. 

Because of this, and because there was no more compound or tower, she would need to stay under watch until then. 

Someone who had the power to hold her, and had a place with high security measures. 

Bucky knew where they were going with this and he had refused profusely. 

He was not going to keep his wife’s murderer in his house with him until the necklace was found. 

It was out of the question.

But, then they had to play the the-world-is-at-stake game. 

“We know this is hard but you are our only hope.”

And his least favorite: “Asa didn’t risk her life for nothing. She knew what that necklace in the wrong hands could do.”

They had convinced him to accept. Within days, his apartment was already prepped. 

He had to hide his weapons for his own sake. 

If he knew his gun was in an easy access area, he wouldn’t hesitate a second to kill Hayden. And that’s not what he would’ve wanted for the sake of Wakanda and this necklace. 

He hates it, but it’s not what Asa would have wanted either.

He hates everything about this.

“You ready, man?” Sam asks quietly, walking over to his side table next to one of the queen beds for his ear piece.

Bucky lifts his suit jacket to where his gun is and makes sure it’s secure. 

“Yeah. Our boat is outside? Can you bring me my glove?” Bucky asks him.

Sam walks over to him, handing over his glove for his vibranium hand.

“Yeah, they’re out there waiting for us.” Sam says.

Bucky nods and runs both his hands over his jacket. 

He could do this. 

He could not kill the one person he wants to the most.

Right?

—

“Captain. Sergeant Barnes.” One of the officials, a woman with long dark hair, greats Bucky and Sam as they step onto their canal boat. Bucky takes a seat and a deep breath. 

“I’m agent Harlow with the FBI. I’ll be briefing you both on what to expect and who when you arrive,” her hologram iPad depicts photos of two men, one is blonde and the other has darker hair, “This is Alexei Roma and Giovanni Bianca. Alexei is our billionaire philanthropist. He is trying to get possession of the necklace for no reason other than adding another piece to his collection. He is innocent and doesn’t even know what the necklace is capable of. He’s the one hosting tonights gala where he and other billionaires and making ludicrous buys. Most of them black market,” she switches the photo over to the man with darker hair, “Giovanni. He’s Alexei’s biggest competition. His offer matches Alexei’s. Difference? Giovanni knows who the seller is. We assume they are there tonight.”

Sam frowns. 

“This necklace seems so special, like it holds some kind of power. It makes me wonder why the seller is trying to get rid of it in the first place.” He says.

“Good point. Another thing for you both to find out,” the woman takes in a deep breath and switches the hologram photo to a photo of a file. She hesitantly looks up at Bucky, “After you’ve gotten information on where this seller may be, you need to find Hayden. We don’t have anything to help us identify who they are aside from their name and a scar on their arm. We do have height and weight identifications which should help a bit, and they are these,” she shows Sam and Bucky the numbers, “you’re looking for a needle in a haystack. Odds are, Barnes, since they are Hydra affiliated they will recognize you before you recognize them. Remember that,” Bucky doesn’t say anything but he enjoys the weight of his licensed P226 Legion handgun on his body, “Hayden is important because they know why that necklace is powerful. What it does. What it can do. We need to find that out. We need to also find out why they were running after it. Hayden is to be detained, unharmed, under Wakandan order, to not avoid additional conflict or attention to the seller or more buyers. Once we have possession of it, Hayden will be taken to Wakanda for further prosecutions decided by them.”

Bucky has to hold in his scoff at the end but he gives a short and barely noticeable nod anyway.

                                          ~

The gala is illuminated by blue and purple lights.

The music plays sensually as people stand around talking, drinking their choice of liquor, or making connections. 

Bucky could feel the fire in his veins as he thanked the bartender for his scotch. It burned down his throat as he tossed it back.

He could feel it in his stomach as it settled there, hot and strong.

He missed being able to get drunk. Not that this, tonight, was a good time for it. But the last couple of days were ideal. The amount of drinks it’d take him to finally feel the start of it’s affects would take at least ten glasses of whiskey. 

He longed for it.

He hadn’t feel numb like that in so long.

Anything to feel something other than that ache and emptiness in his life.

Bucky leaned over on the bar table as he discreetly tried to find Giovanni or Alexei.  

It bothered Bucky that he didn’t know what Hayden looked like. 

Every man that would look at him, even the bartender, made Bucky want to stand guard. 

He hated this.

Bucky asks the bartender for another drink, wanting to feel more of the taste of the amber on his tongue.

“I’m Kassie.” A gentle and feminine voice came from Bucky’s side.

He turned around and saw a brunette, tall, and tanned skin. She was absolutely stunning. Her straight hair ran down her back, following the tight curvature of her dress, and her hazel eyes were piercing.

No scar.

She gave him another smile after asking for a drink.

“I come to Vanni’s galas quite often. Most faces are regulars. Haven’t seen yours, though.” It’s then he notices her accent. 

British.

“First timer.” Bucky says.

“Something of interest caught your eye yet? The auction items are more prestigious than usual this year.”

“il tuo drink, signore.” The man hands Bucky his drink and Bucky thanks him.

“Not yet, but we’ll see.” He says.

The woman smiles again and nods. 

“Vianni’s work — all of it is marvelous,” she takes a sip of her own drink, “some of the sellers this year are quite great as well.”

Bucky raises a brow at this.

“Do you know if there is a special area for sellers?” 

She tilts her head at him.

“You’ve got quite the paper on you,” she whispers. She moves in closer to him and answers quietly, “They meet up there.” Bucky follows her perfectly manicured finger. 

There’s a lounge on the top floor. Secluded from the rest of the room. Bucky can immediately make out the two guards at the entrance.

“Good to know, thank you, miss.”

“Kassie.” She correct him. 

Bucky doesn’t miss her doe eyes and her sweet tone. He slyly moves his left hand behind his head in a way where his left ring finger falls in direct line with her sight.

Her demeanor changes majorly, but her kind eyes and smile still remain. She takes a small step back.

“It was nice meeting you.” She says shortly before taking her drink and walking away.

Bucky sighs as soon as she’s gone and runs a hand down his face.

He drinks his glasses until the end and then walks away, tightening his tie around his neck as he made his way to the stairs that led up to the other floors of the building.

“Not sure if you got that, Sam.” Bucky talks, walking smoothly past the other people.

“We did. You going up there now?” Sam asks.

“Halfway there.” Bucky says with finality. 

Bucky is about to take the second flight of stairs when her hears commotion coming from across the floor. He looks up towards the VIP area where he was headed to, but that was also behind him, and frowns. There was a fight.

Bucky’s thankful that on the second floor he was on there was no one there. 

“Dammit, might have to hold off for a few minutes or so.” 

“What happened?”

“Some kind of argument. We can wait a little more. At least now we know where they will be.”

Bucky turns around back towards the main floor where the guests are. He takes in a deep breath and continues his walk back down to the floor. 

“We’ve got someone on the other building across, up on the roof, and they’ve narrowed down on Alexei and Giovanni in that vip area. We’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”

It’s all just soft noise to Bucky now. Three fifths of this mission was complete. Now he just needed to wait.

“Might as well get another drink.” Sam says playfully in his ear.

“Don’t tempt me.” Bucky says humorlessly, “I just might.” 

At least it’d give him something to do with his hands.

Buckywas starting to feel a little awkward as he just walked around in the middle of the crowd with nothing to really do and no one to talk to. 

At least the music pulled him away from reality for a bit. 

He was so lost in his own thoughts about how he’d approach Alexei that he didn’t see the person he accidentally just hit walking by.

His shoulder hit the person’s hard, and when he spun around to see who it was, his breath caught only momentarily. 

Wow.

Your hair also cascaded down your back, and your heels elongated your legs perfectly. 

You had been anxious to head up to where you knew the guy you were looking for would be, that when you accidentally ran into someone and you spun around and realized you were looking at no other than Bucky Barnes, you were genuinely and thoroughly caught off guard.

You were standing there gaping like a fish. For the first time not knowing what to say right away. That’s when you realized he had no idea who you were. He never saw your face.

Then you wondered why he was here. Did he know about the necklace? Were his Avengers friend here?

Shit.

Your mission was compromised. 

“I’m sorry about that.” His voice.

That stupid, deep voice. 

You used his lack of knowledge with you as a disadvantaged and you gave him a small smile.

You needed to run and tell Ivan right away. There was no way you were getting out of there without them catching on to what you were doing. 

The manpower was unfair.

“That’s alright.” You say quietly, before spinning around, letting the only thing behind you a man who for some reason was still looking at you and the train of your black dress. 

Your super expensive black dress. 

Bucky couldn’t stop the soft blushing he felt creeping up his neck or the flutter her felt at your voice. 

Once you’re out of sight he quickly shakes his head. 

Not only were you pretty, that wasn’t what it was, but your eyes...

He turns once more to look back at you again and this time you’re halfway down the long hallway that led to the exit out of the building. 

His eyes narrowed down at you like a hawk. As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turned around and your eyes met.

That was when everything changed.

Your left hand quickly went up to your ear piece.

“Ivan. We have a problem. Mission abort, meeting you at Rezou.”

You turned once again to meet Bucky’s eyes, like a moth to a flame, and that’s when his blue eyes traveled from your face to your left arm.

Bucky’s stomach fell hard. His blood also ran cold in his veins and all he could see was red. 

And you definitely knew who he was alright, because the second he made the connection to who you were, your face also changed and you picked up your pace.

Bucky could feel his heart in his head.

“Sam, I got her.” Bucky says quickly, a hardness in his voice that he himself hadn’t heard in years.

“Who?” Sam’s confusion was palpable.

Bucky couldn’t even tell is he was running but he felt like he was at this point. He had to be.

“Hayden,” Bucky’s voice was unsteady, “Hayden’s a girl. I’m after her right now.”

“Buck-“

“I’m following her out the venue. I’ll need you, Sam. Stay on.”

Shit, he was already losing you.

You could feel the blood in your head and ears as you ran as fast as you possibly could outside in the Venice streets. 

The winter soldier was after you. You hated him, but you knew how strong and much faster than you he was, but you would put up a fight.

“He’s here. The Winter Soldier is here.” You spat into your ear piece.

“What?” 

You turned it off. You didn’t know what the Avengers could hack into and you didn’t want them over hearing anything. 

The streets of Italy were already asleep, and your heels cladding loudly with stones as you ran as fast as you could.

You knew he was on your tail.

You could practically feel him right behind you.

You whipped your head back to see you were in fact correct.

You were screwed. You knew you were because this was a super soldier and he was a goddamn sniper. If he hadn’t caught you yet, it was by choice.

You wondered if he was tiring you out on purpose.

His face was angry as he spoke to someone. 

You were right. They were all here. 

You decided your best bet would be to create obstacles since your speed wasn’t what would win here.

You made a sharp right around a buggy and ran over the bridge over one of the canals. 

“Fuck.” You grunted out as you felt your diaphragm already begin to spasm. 

You only had one place you could go. Thankfully, it wasn’t that far.

You weren’t sure what you’d do when you get there. 

You made another sharp left and then ran down a dark alley, illuminated by the orange lights of some of the homes, and ran towards the end, making a right. 

Just like that, everything became more quiet. You stopped behind the wall and took a few deep breaths.

He could be right behind you, maybe did lose you, or was playing you. Whichever one it was, you had to take your chances. You turned your head towards the right and continued the way you were going, but much slower this time.

While you do so, you check your thigh to make sure your gun was still there where you put it. 

It’s there.

You turn down another alley towards your left and then stop just next to a door. You look once more towards the direction you came from, relieved to see no one there.

Opening the door, you make your way inside the building. 

You’re thankful you discovered this back entrance to your hotel earlier. 

Hand tight on the handrail and the other grabbing the bottom of your dress, you start making your way up to your floor where your room is.

Room 302 of the Hotel Danieli.

One of your favorites.

With a deep breath you make your way over to the table next to the window and quickly remove your ear piece. You also unbuckle your gun from around your thigh and then run your hand through your hair.

You had not expected this. 

You did not expect to see him.

You also weren’t an idiot. You knew you didn’t out run him. He was still out there waiting for you. You didn’t know what game he was playing at or how he even knew who you were, but you were willing to put up a fight. Your eyes quickly flicker away from the window as a soft gust blows your curtain just slightly. 

Your eyes go to the roof across the street.

He was a sniper. 

You quickly move out of direct sight of the window, bringing your gun with you, and rest up against your wall next to it.

You turn the safety off.

Wait.

Your eyes dart down once more to the open window.

The soft click of another gun’s safety being turned off is the only confirmation you need.

You can’t help the laugh, in the form of a scoff, that leaves your lips. Your hair fans over the left side of your face as you turn to look directly into the black void of the rest of your suite.

With footsteps that are barely noticeable, and as the lights illuminates his face, Bucky steps foot into your hotel bedroom.

His eyes are dark, his tie is gone, he shockingly broke a sweat, some of his hair was falling over his forehead, his mouth is in a tight line, and he’s got his gorgeous - oh hell you had always wanted one - Legion gun pointed directly at your head with both hands.

Hilarious; he still kept his vibranium hand hidden.

You just stared at him as he continued looking at you, saying nothing and doing nothing. It almost intrigued you. He looked furious, his top lip almost trembled, yet he was as still as a rock.

You let out a short laugh as you lifted your own two arms to point your own gun back at him.

“Put it down. Now!” He screamed the last word at you and you felt insulted.

You let out a little smile.

“I don’t think you’re really talking to me that way, now are you, Bucky?” Something about you knowing his real name irks him deeply and it does something to him he wasn’t prepared for. It makes him feel more human than assassin and it reminds him of what you took from him, “I’m not scared of you. I only ran because I don’t want you in my goddamn way.” You fire your bullet into the lamp right behind him at your last word.

Either of you barely flinch at it.

“I don’t give a shit. Stand down. Now.” He says again.

You squint an eye at him and that’s when Bucky has had enough. The speed he goes for you physically hurts you, and he aims his gun directly at yours, causing yours to fall apart in your hand and fly across the room; its sudden power making your hand burn.

With a growl, you unexpectedly grab him arm and twist his around so he’s the one with his back against the wall.

He was more powerful than you, but you were still somewhat skillful and did have some more than normal human strength. Catching him off guard was just enough. 

Bucky’s breathing was hard as he pulled you around until he was back in an advantage point.

You smirk just after your head hits the wall hard.

“That was fun,” you knew what he was about to do. You saw it before you knew. He was too distracted in what was going on in his head that he did a piss job in hiding it. You quickly reach your right hand around until the cuff he had in his hand is closed and locked around nothing, “but frankly I’m bored, soldat.” Bucky could only glare back at you as you stepped your impressive black high heel into his shoe and moved your body closer to his, “It was nice seeing you again.”

Bucky didn’t bother to react at his blood boiling or to attempt to run after you again.

He had already made contact with everyone else and they were prepared for you.

If anything, it had all gone to plan.

What he didn’t expect was for you to be you.

Your perfume lingers in the beautiful hotel room and he’s out of breath as he watches you jump out your window, aiming for the waters below.  

Idiotic.

Bucky closes his eyes tightly together and runs a hand through his hair. 

He expects the voice in his ear, but he still hates it just the same; and it hits different. It’s a confirmation of what the next few weeks will be.

“I got her.” Sam.

~

“We should be landing in New York soon. We’ll have someone drive you to your home in the city. You said her room was ready?” Sam asks Bucky, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Bucky can’t find it in himself to vocally respond yet. 

He also can’t wrap his head around the fact that this girl in front of him killed his wife just a few days ago.

This hydra agent.

This criminal, who he’d have to literally protect and keep in custody in his own home for god knows how long. 

His eyes linger over the bruises on your legs and he doesn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for you.

You’re passed out and cuffed to the bed underneath you. You hit the water pretty hard. It was evident how desperate you were to get away from him. 

He wants to kill you, and maybe he will once they have the necklace. 

Bucky can only nod in response to Sam’s question. 

“Five minutes to landing.” Sam says.

“It’s on autopilot?” Bucky asks, walking out of the plane’s medical area, closing the door behind them.

“Yes. Did you want to land us the rest of the way?” Sam asks.

“Yeah,” Bucky says softly, finally allowing his heart to feel again, “it’s been a while since I’ve flown.”

                                         __

@03stepedwa @migueloharaslxt @unaxv

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan #marvel #marvel fanfic #bucky x you

[sunfyresrider]

Superhero Headcanons for the HotD!Main Cast

Summary: The Targs/Velaryons are a group of super powered humans who defend Westeros from evil. They are known as the Justice Society of Westeros or Justice League for short.

Warnings: none Word Count: 2k Note: May or may not be writing a modern!fic about this if this idea fancies enough people.

Aemond - He’s Batman, a vigilante who works on his own to seek justice on those who deserve it. Aemond doesn’t have powers, but he has tech, skill, strength and brains which makes him all the more dangerous. Also, he’s a billionaire playboy philanthropist, what isn’t to love? He’s menacing already with the lack of an eye but combined with the bat suit he looks like a whole other monster. He’s a bit more violent than most and isn’t against murder if it’s for a good cause. His super high-tech vehicle is named Vhagar and is his most prized possession. Another important thing about him is he only works at night and alone. Aemond’s base of operations is in a cave on Dragonstone away from the rest of the league. He doesn’t get along with them very much, especially not Aquaman who’s just a glorified fish. 

Daeron- The flash, aka the pain in Aemond’s arse. He has mastery over speed but also time itself! He smiles in the face of danger and is filled with hope. Nothing is impossible to him, especially when it comes to his family. He is fiercely loyal and protective to those he loves even though he pokes fun at them sometimes. He’s a hero because he believes everyone deserves life, and honestly, he loves his country. 

Helaena- The otherworldly starfire is potentially the most powerful of her siblings… minus Aegon if he ever gets his shit together. Her list of powers is long but to simplify she has superhuman everything paired with ultraviolet energy projection in the form of shields, laser beams, blasts and flight. She is very cheerful and sweet, but naive and insecure. Her naivety does not make her stupid, in fact she is one of the smartest in the league. Helaena loathes when people don’t get along or fight amongst friends… Which is mainly why she’s a hero. She wants to make everyone happy. 

Jacaerys- Hello Superman! Jacaerys is an extremely strong hero with unfaltering morals. Laser eyes, super strength, super speed, flight, and good looks make Jace extremely overpowered. He believes in peace, justice, and protecting those who aren’t as strong as him. He’s the leader of the league, voted in of course. With the help of his mother and Alicent they created the “Hightower” which is the league's base of operations. Though some people, who he will not name, would rather work in the dark… alone. He’s handsome, charming and has the best attitude out of them all. Superman is beloved by all and it ain’t a surprise, how could you not love those dark eyes and hair? 

Lucerys- Aemond calls him fish boy, but he’s really known as Aquaman. It’s funny because he gets seasick whenever he’s on boats but underwater he’s okay… some of the time. His powers are exactly what you might think they would be, hydrokinesis, telepathic control of all aquatic life, and aquatic adaptation. For the millionth time he does not grow a tail! He is still learning but Jacaerys swears in the future he will be a master strategist and tactician, possibly even inheriting the throne of Atlantis. He’s a good boy by all means and cares deeply for others and how they view him. He’s insecure in his abilities but that doesn’t stop him from trying to do what’s right all the time. 

Rhaena- Batgirl! She definitely did not take up working with Aemond because she lacked superpowers too. Nor did she do it because she has a big crush on him! She’s useful in many ways without powers. She’s a trained computer scientist and security hacker. A highly skilled martial artist and hand-to-hand combatant just like Baela. Although she doesn’t have super strength to go along with it. She, like Baela, is a part of the women’s liberation movement. She’s a brave girl filled with pure determination. Her attitude is usually reasonable and calm. However, she can be reckless at times just like everyone else. Her desire to save people is based on wanting approval from her father and from the need to do what she believes is right. 

Baela- Wonder Woman is the badass crime fighting all powerful original woman hero. Super strength, speed, and the lasso of truth, Baela is unstoppable and prides herself on being able to kick men’s asses. For a long time, there was a stereotype women couldn’t be heroes and they weren’t strong enough to do the same things they did… Until she came along and proved them all wrong. She takes after her father in the way she fights crime and punishes people. Though she avoids bloodshed unless necessary. Which is not often since she usually takes on the bigger opponents along with Jace and the other higher up members of the league. 

Aegon- John Constantine, a complete outcast and disgrace to his family. Aegon’s morals always depend on the situation (he’s grey all the way) and even though he has powers, he isn’t wanted. There is no real place for him in the league and he’s accepted it. Instead, he gambles with his magic and goes on his own missions. His powers are mainly from his mind. He’s an expert tactician, manipulator, Master con artist and detective. Aegon also knows a whole array of magic such as telekinesis, necromancy, pyrokinesis, illusion projection, teleportation and chronokinesis, among others. He learned from Y/N’s boyfriend… Who he eventually stole her from until she broke up with him… again. His chain smoking and cynicism may make you think he’s a villain but in truth he’s driven by a heartfelt desire to just do some good and be better, 

Y/N- Zatanna Zatara, Mistress of Magic, High Priestess of Prestidigitation, and Sorceress Supreme… Also known as Y/N. You’re a full-time stage magician who can make anything happen as long as you speak backwards. The entire reason you’re considered to be “in” the league is because of your friendship with Aemond. Which is off and on depending on his mood. You are powerful and could probably end the world in just a few sentences, but you don’t care much for that. Of course, you help when needed but would rather live a peaceful life. Aegon is your on and off lover who seems to be just as averse to joining the league as you. Though, he's more of a piece of shit than you could ever be. You have a big heart and like helping others and entertaining them… You just aren’t the best team player. 

Rhaenyra & Alicent - You could call these mothers the masterminds behind the league. Once they saw their children's super abilities, they sprang into action to create the justice league of Westeros. Ever since crime rates have dropped and so have alien invasions. You can think of them as expert marketing managers as well as guidance counselors and behind the scenes bosses. Nothing is done without the okay from these two! Except for Aemond, Aegon and Y/N… they struggle to control those three. As for powers, they both don't have any but if you ask Alicent, Rhaenyra has a superhuman ability to make people fall in love with her. If you ask Rhaenyra, Alicent is a mind and emotion reader.

Daemon/Otto- This pair fucking HATES each other. However, they both have equal interest in boosting their families' jobs. Otto is the head of advertising and Daemon is head of combat training and strategies. Though he gets his ass kicked by the superhuman children daily. Otto consistently tries to maintain everyone’s images and boost their popularity… occasionally falling short when it comes to the other three. 

Corlys/Rhaenys- The king and queen of Atlantis. Corlys has all the powers you can imagine a king of the sea has and when he dies he will pass it onto his pupil, Luke. He desperately wants power over the surface but is starting to realize it ain’t gonna happen anytime soon. Rhaenys is from the surface, she doesn’t have many special powers besides being a boss bitch and running shit from behind the scenes. She isn’t someone you want to mess with.

Criston Cole- He’s Aemond’s version of Alfred. Helping guide him through life and through his literal battles. Cole is almost like a glorified fatherly figure to him. What he lacks in powers he makes up for with wit and battle strategy. In a way he’s like Daemon… By the way, they HATE being compared.

Little Aegon/Joffrey/Viserys- SHAZAM! These kids can turn into adults with specific superpowers just by saying a word! They were blessed by a wizard who may or may not be related to Y/N. In the future these three have the potential to take the crown as the most popular heroes! Though that is far away in the future… hopefully. Right now, they’re all still learning how to control their abilities and use them for good and not stealing cookies from the top shelf.

#house of the dragon #hotd au #hotd imagine #modern hotd #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #helaena targaryen #joffrey velaryon #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #otto hightower #daemon targeryan #corlys velaryon #rhaenys targaryen

[gumnut-logic]

Dad (or Five times Alan’s brothers carried him to bed and one time they didn’t) (Part 5, Bit 1)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 - Bit 1, Bit 2 | Part 5 - Bit 1

This is all @flyboytracy​​​​ ‘s fault.:P ::hugs:: From this post

Okay, these bits are getting too long for me to write them in one go, so have Bit 1 of Part 5. I’m getting there, I promise. I’m trying my best not to be distracted by the Avengers AU that is nibbling on my brain.

Many thanks to @katblu42​ who did a wonderful read through, and to all of you who have been so kindly supportive of this fic and all my crazy over the last few days. I get frustrated towards the end of the week as I do longer hours on Thursdays and Fridays and it kills off my writing time (my new working hours have destroyed my writing practise, hence my slowness of late).

But anyway, I babble. I hope you enjoy this fic :D

-o-o-o-

There were repercussions, of course.

Grandma enforced extra downtime on Virgil and literally smothered both him and Alan in hugs.

Alan’s hair was messed up repeatedly.

John was called down from orbit to provide backup for piloting Thunderbird Two in case Four was needed. It wasn’t like he could just skip to and from orbit without health issues, so down was down for some time.

Grandma ran overwatch for the few rescues that were unavoidable and Virgil grumped around the house complaining that he was fine only to get a dose of vertigo and nearly fall down the nearest set of stairs to demonstrate exactly how not fine he actually was.

A grounded Virgil was a grumpy Virgil.

A Virgil banned from the hangars was hell itself.

Alan worried about him. Scott well and truly piloted the worry wagon, but Alan was definitely a passenger. In short, there were a frustrating few days for all of them.

But Virgil eventually returned to his old self as symptoms faded away. Grandma was convinced eventually to put him back on rota, with one requirement.

That leave for all of them be scheduled in the near future.

Scott automatically protested, followed by Virgil who thought it was all his fault. John whined about being down from Five - he hadn’t been allowed back yet.

Gordon was awfully quiet about the whole thing, but Alan was happy. It had been ages since he had had all his brothers home at once and no one was on sick leave, injured or otherwise incapacitated. And while he was fully aware of the implications of IR being offline, he did feel that the world owed him a brotherly vacation.

Since Grandma’s word was law on Tracy Island, that is exactly what happened three weeks later.

The delay was a chance for Virgil to get back up to speed and full recovery so he could actually enjoy the leave without fretting that Two hadn’t had her x amount of servicing since he had been injured. It also gave them time to prepare for time off - alert the GDF, tie John to something bolted to the planet so he could enjoy being on the planet for his leave, and prep Tracy Industries to be minus one eldest brother.

What they should do with their time off was also mandated by Grandma. She knew Alan’s brothers far too well. She claimed she wanted to keep them all together before the billionaires could scamper off to their far distant corners of the planet.

Or hide in the hangars doing Tracy Industries work. Yes, Scott, I know what you are planning.

Scott truly could throw a pout more than any of them, even Alan.

So this holiday found them in the Daintree rainforest in northern Australia. There was argument that they should go to Rome, England or even Belize, but Grandma determined that they needed both isolation and people, and their luxury treehouse was familiar enough for relaxation and different enough for a change of scenery.

And privacy. So much privacy, yet the opportunity to mingle with civilisation if it was wanted.

Virgil, of course, took the opportunity to visit every art gallery in Cairns and purchase a number of works to support many artists.

It was his thing.

Not really Alan’s thing, though.

Gordon took off for a few days on the remains of the Great Barrier Reef, checking on a few projects he was sponsoring. Alan tagged along on a couple of them.

So much fish.

While Alan loved his brother beyond belief, he did not have a marine biologist’s degree and despite being awed by all the sights, Alan lost his big brother in the land of excited science.

Virgil tagged along on one of the trips and did his usual thing of nodding and understanding as Gordon bounced on the spot in excitement.

But Alan…he saw the value, knew what was at stake, and loved that his brother was enjoying himself…but it was boring. He saw enough fish and crabs at home. They all looked the same to him.

And the sharks. Gordon could keep all of them to himself, thank you very much.

Alan did spend some great time gaming. With Five in the sky, there was no such thing as lack of internet or any other connection for that matter.

Though both Scott and John were grumpy about the fact they couldn’t connect with certain servers.

In fact, it was Scott and John who prompted Grandma to send them on a full day’s hike to some remote beach. Surprisingly, Scott showed some enthusiasm. John, not so much, but was persuaded by the fact they could camp on said beach and see the stars just in time for a forecast meteor shower.

Alan jumped at that. Actual time stargazing with his star brother? Sure, it was Earth based, but still!

So it was with some excitement that Alan joined their little party.

What he didn’t realise was how much of a hike Grandma had sent them on.

Virgil made sure they packed everything they needed…everything. Somewhere along the line, Alan got the distinct feeling his big brother had forgotten that they weren’t taking Two with them.

His pack was okay for the first twenty minutes of walking through rainforest, but after that, it got heavier and heavier.

How far away was this stupid beach anyway? While he appreciated the need for fitness, Alan much preferred rocket power to foot power.

“You okay there, squirt?” Kind brown eyes stared down at him. Virgil was ever monitoring all of them like some medical radar.

“I’m good.” Bravado was needed, don’t show weakness. His brothers were heroes after all. He definitely had a benchmark to live up to.

Scott glanced back at him and smiled. It was like approval. So Alan straightened and reset his tolerance a little higher.

It lasted another half an hour.

They had just made it up a hill and were walking along a ridge. Gordon exclaimed at the sight of the ocean.

And Alan groaned at exactly how far away it was. “How much further?”

Scott smiled. “Only a few kilometres. You okay, Allie?”

None of his brothers were showing any sign of wear much less tear. Even Virgil, the recently injured and healed seemed absolutely fine.

Alan sighed internally. “Yeah, I’m good. Just wondering.”

Scott stopped and waved their brothers past him until he reached Alan. A hand landed on his shoulder, a slight frown over his big brother’s blue eyes. “You sure you’re okay?” He stared at Alan’s pack. “Not too heavy?”

Now all four brothers had concerned eyes on him. Aww, man.

He shook his brother’s hand off. “I’m fine, Scott.” He was as good as any of them. He was a Tracy after all.

That thought had him storming past all of them and a fair distance ahead.

That, of course, made things worse, because now he was in the lead and all four brothers could see his every move. Trailing towards the back he had been able to at least dawdle a little.

Not now. He had to push on and be the hero he always wanted to be.

Who knew being a hero would be so exhausting.

By the time they made it to the beach his legs were only so much jello. Staring at the white sands and beautiful turquoise water…water that they couldn’t swim in because this was northern Australia and everything in there would either bite, sting or drag you to your death. Why the hell were they here again?

A slap on his backpack nearly sent him sprawling. “Watch it there, squirt, you look like you want to face plant in that sand right there. I wouldn’t. It’s a bit warm.” Gordon grinned at him, his face lit up by the sun above the trees behind them.

“Shut it, Gordon.” Alan waddled forward on the soft sand a moment, before darting past his fish brother and dumping himself beneath a palm tree.

For a moment he longed for Tracy Island’s Pohutukawa trees. This place was as tropical as their Island, but different in every other way.

The snakes and spiders for two specific terrifying things.

He had to admit to himself that only his pack was holding him upright.

This, of course, attracted Virgil like a fly to honey, those eyes of his scanning Alan just like the multiple medscanners his big brother had most definitely packed.

How much did one of those things weigh anyway?

“Allie?” Soft and gently inquisitive.

“I’m fine!”

That earned him an arched eyebrow.

Great. Now Virgil would be hovering for the rest of the night.

Alan was fine. Just sweaty and tired. The weather was just that little bit different. More land, less ocean breeze, he guessed.

And a damn long hike. He should have known it would be. Scott was renowned for forgetting not all his brothers had his length of stride.

Except maybe John.

“Allie?” A finger lifted up his chin and Virgil’s frown had turned serious.

Alan grunted at him and shook his head loose from his brother’s grip.

“You have a rest here while we put up the tent.” Virgil was stepping back, but still eyeing Alan like his brother might faint on the spot. “Get yourself a drink.”

“FAB.” He wasn’t going to argue with that. Didn’t think he had the energy to put up a tent anyway.

Virgil was still eyeing him, likely to get that drink for him if Alan didn’t move. But Alan did and Virgil slowly made his way back to Scott. Quiet words were had and pertinent looks made in his direction. Alan rolled his eyes.

And yanked the pack off his back and dragged out his water bottle.

He had to admit the cool fluid down his throat was absolute pleasure.

Stashing his pack behind him, he lay back and took advantage of the fact he had permission to sit on his butt.

It was cooler under the palm tree out of the sun. The sounds were familiar, breeze rattling through fronds above, his brothers’ voices, led by Scott as they deployed to get the tent set up, gentle waves on the shore. He closed his eyes.

The birds were different, but only marginally. He relaxed into the soft sand, putting his drink bottle down beside him.

So much like home.

He was asleep before he could even consider it.

-o-o-o-

“Alan.” His voice was whispered, but sharply. Scott?

“Alan!”

“Don’t startle him!”

Virgil?

Alan rolled over, uncomfortable with his neck at a weird angle.

Something rumbled and poked sharply at his side.

He swiped at it and it bit him, hooking a finger painfully.

That woke him up ever so quickly. His eyes shot open to something big with scaly legs and a blue head. He didn’t bother to give it identification as it bit at him again. He scrambled away while his brothers yelled and shouted from a distance.

The giant bird, because it was an awfully big bird, startled as Scott skidded in between Alan and the very non-extinct dinosaur. Because what kind of bird has a big chunk of bone sticking out of its forehead.

Scott grabbed Alan’s backpack and held it up between himself and the giant bird. “Alan back up slowly.” His big brother stepped backwards on the sand and forced Alan to scramble to his feet and do as he said.

The bird took a step forward, eyes staring at the brothers.

Scott and Alan took a step back.

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Alan Tracy #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #nuttyfic

[anika-ann]

In the Strangest Place (We Just Might Find Love) - Pt.2

Type: two-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 2750

Summary: You’re hiding from your boss in a supply closet, minding your own business, when a stranger joins you unexpectedly.

Steve is not entirely a stranger anymore; he knows about your troubles and you know about his. And he’s determined to sort out yours this very moment.

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment, a bit of angst, language, something that might be close to a panic attack if you squint

A/N: There we go... hopefully I’ll make mid-week a bit sweeter for some of you ;)

Part 1

“Alright, kids. Let’s have a trip.”

And you just stared.

…what?

“W-what?” you stuttered, suddenly consumed by the familiar feeling of losing the firm ground under your feet at the idea of trying to confront Gregory head-on. Not even Steve at your side was helping at all as the four of you started walking towards the IT department.

“I-I don’t have any prove! I can’t-- he told me he would--- that he would-”

“That he’d twist it around, convince the HR that you were crushing on him and he turned you down, which turned you into a soulless bitch craving revenge?” the billionaire finished for you and you just uselessly opened you mouth, unable to let out a word to deny it. It seemed to amuse him, because he scoffed; and there was something very bitter in that sound too. “Kid, he’s not the first asshole to take advantage of his superior position. I’ve seen the types. Relax. If Cap here believes you, then so do I. Plus, I know a liar when I see one. And you ain’t lying.”

You breathed in shakily, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest. Could it really be so easy? That couldn’t be right…

“T-thank you, Mr. Stark. I-”

“Yeah, yeah, just name your first kid after me,” Mr. Stark uttered, waving it off.

The Falcon next to you chuckled and you shot Steve a confused gaze. Was that how Mr. Stark usually was? You had never met him in person; you had only ever heard him giving a speech on TV and you knew he had a certain reputation, but this was… different.

You were surprised to find Steve watching you; perhaps he worried about your reaction to such bluntness, since he had seen your outburst in the closet. Upon meeting your gaze – probably shy and undeniably surprised – he charmed a tiny smile for you.

“It’s gonna be okay, see?”

“What are you even worried about? You have three Avengers coming with you!” Mr. Wilson questioned lightly and you bit your lower lip as you thought of the source of anxiety indeed.

Yeah, I have three Avengers and they are all men. Sue me for not being sure which side they would take – not until now.

“You’re not a full-time Avenger, Wilson.”

Falcon gasped, clutching at his chest theatrically at Stark’s remark. “Ouch, Tony. My heart.”

You let out a breathy laugh at their banter and felt yourself relax despite your better judgement. You almost let yourself believe it truly would go alright. Well, as much as dealing with such shitty thing could.

“You’re all my heroes,” you whispered timidly, which earned you a bright smile from Sam Wilson.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Cruel, Birdboy. You stole the old man’s line,” Mr. Stark hummed, amused.

“Heh! Sorry, Cap. But I’m sure you have a whole set of other lines to use on her.”

You choked on your own spit as Steve faltered in his steps, his grip on you growing stronger. What the hell did the Falcon just say?

“Oh my God, Wilson, shut up before we get stuck with another harassment report.”

“I don’t think this a subject for joking,” Steve interjected, slightly irritated, and you shot him a grateful look, because he definitely had a point.

Except… once you weren’t in such a sticky situation, you totally wouldn’t mind Steve Rogers using a line on you. Not at all. And his hand around yours felt nice for multiple reasons, the wordless comfort and support only being one of them. It was warm and slightly calloused, a reminder of his physical work, and it was bigger than yours, so sweetly and distractingly enveloping yours…

But now it was so not the time.

Your peculiar group approached the office and you didn’t even have the time to brace yourself as Tony Stark simply threw the door open, not bothering to knock.

“Thomas Ian Gregory, you are fired this very second,” the billionaire exclaimed dramatically.

You would think he was just being a drama queen, except he sounded deadly serious, using your boss’ full name which he must have read out on the door, and his eyes were throwing daggers at the man sitting behind the desk, looking as if he was the fucking king of the world.

Your boss blinked in surprise and eyed all four of you; Falcon with his arms crossed on his chest, Ironman minus his suit with a murderous glare and a hand raised towards him as if he wanted to point a finger and then Gregory’s gaze fell on your hand connected with Steve’s; you wanted to retrieve it quickly, but Steve wouldn’t let you, his grip growing firm. Anger flashed through your boss’ eyes for a second, before he composed himself and rose from his chair with an innocently confused expression.

You wanted to puke and you felt your legs turning into a shaking mess of jello. This was it. Now he would use his slimy words to turn this situation around and you were about to get fired and humiliated so much that jumping under a bus would be the most likeable option for you.

“Mr. Stark, it’s an honour. Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson. What do I owe the pleasure?”

You couldn’t believe this--- this pig. Seriously. Who the fuck did he think he was?! How could he--- just lie so easily, pretending that everything was perfectly fine?!

But Tony Stark was not fooled by the charade and you mentally sighed in relief, sure they must have heard the weight falling off of your shoulders even in Jersey.

“I’m sure you heard me, Mr. Gregory. You quit and you’ll be hearing from the HR soon. And you’ll be damn lucky if this young lady right here won’t sue you.”

You honestly wished you were invisible when Gregory’s gaze flickered to you, subtle anger with a promise of consequences in his irises – consequences that would come should you not cut this bullshit right now.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Stark. If this is about the unfortunate feelings my assistant has for me-”

Tears of rage and baseless shame stung in your eyes at his words and you breathed in sharply to defend yourself; before you could, Gregory continued.

“Though I can see they weren’t very… honest. Obviously my inferior seems to be the ‘love them and leave them’ type, which I should warn you about, Capta-”

Breathless at his malicious made-out theories, you did not expect Steve to drop your hand in favour to tower over your boss, making him shut up with one single glare.

Alright, you could see why he had thought that simply appearing at your office would make Gregory tremble in fear. Your boss actually backed off and learnt onto a table, looking as if he was supporting himself under the weight of Steve’s judgement.

“I met this woman for the first time not half an hour ago, hiding from you, too scared of your dirty hands to return to her own workplace. Trust me, it left an impression, just like you are leaving one now,” Steve grunted menacingly, causing your heart to pound in your chest in fright even with his words not aimed on you. “If I can give an advice, you pack your things as fast as you can, apologize to her profusely, begging for her forgiveness and you don’t set a foot in this building or speak to her ever again. Do we have an understanding?”

You weren’t the only one affected. Your boss tried to reciprocate Captain America’s glare, but he failed miserably. He visibly gulped and circled his desk, still watching the soldier as if he was expecting to get hit; then his eyes just dropped to his desk and he frantically started picking random things from it.

You watched the scene in front of you, paralyzed. Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, pulsing in your temples, your breathing alternating between hitching and picking up. Your vision started to swim.

Holy. Shit.

“Cap, I think you broke her.”

Steve spun to you at instant, his eyes roaming your face; or you thought so. He looked worried now; or you thought so. Thinking and frankly evaluating the stimuli your senses were receiving was a bit difficult at the moment.

What the hell had just happened?

Gentle hands took yours, leading you out of the room. You blindly followed, unsure how to put one foot in front of the other, your body running on autopilot.

It was over. Thomas Gregory was no longer your boss and it had happened without you losing your job. And Steve Rogers had scolded him as if he was a five-year old kid – a very pervert one, but a kid nonetheless. Steve put a fucking fear of God into him. All of that happening within three minutes. And you just… couldn’t quite process all that.

You barely registered getting into and out of an elevator, being seated on a couch, having a blanket tossed over your shoulders and a cup of warm liquid pressed into your hands. You automatically brought it to your lips, only to be stopped by a tender fingers curling around your wrist.

“Careful. It might be too hot,” a pleasant voice warned you and you blinked, finally focusing your gaze, finding rather worried and very handsome face staring back.

You glanced at the cup, surprised to identify the drink as Steve’s hand let go of yours.

“Is that… is that hot chocolate?” you stuttered, bewildered. Well, more like… astonished.

“Yeah. You’re not allergic to milk or anything, are you?”

You looked up back to Steve’s face, only to find him with his brows furrowed in concern, lips thoughtfully pursed. It snapped you to action.

“No! No. It’s just… I didn’t have one in years. Thank— thank you.”

His expression cleared, as he was evidently pleased with himself. “Good. You’re welcome.”

The words fell off his lips so easily. As if he just hadn’t… hadn’t saved your career. Or your mental health, really.

You eyed the table by the couch, setting the cup down, only to fully turn to him. He seemed a bit confused at that; but God, you had something important to say and since you didn’t want to give up the blanket just yet, you decided to get rid of the mug at least to look less pathetic.

“No, Steve, I… thank you,” you whispered sincerely, feeling tears in your eyes for like a millionth time that day. His smile widened a little.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry if I… if I scared you down there. It wasn’t meant for you.”

“You didn’t-” you blurted out in attempt to deny it and make him feel better, only to waver as his eyebrow rose, picture perfect of doubt. It made you chuckle at yourself self-deprecatingly. “It’s not your fault that I was… surprised by your little hulk-out. I guess I just didn’t see it coming.”

“Hulk-out, huh? How do you feel?”

You shrugged, exhaling slowly, thinking hard about your answer.

“Like I just watched my life take a way better turn that I would expect... and I’m still only watching,” you whispered honestly, which led to his face twisting in a grimace.

“Anything I can do?”

You couldn’t help it; you scanned your surroundings, realizing you were in something that looked fancy enough to belong to Tony Stark and was way too big to be part of an actual apartment. You ran your hand down the blanket covering your shoulders, reaching for the abandoned cup to blow on it softly and take a careful sip of chocolate. Steve’s questioning gaze observed you while you did so and you smiled blissfully into the cup as the delicious rich taste caressed your tongue.

“You mean besides comforting me despite being a complete stranger, getting my harassing boss fired and scaring the hell out of him, taking me to--- here, giving me a blanket and making the best cup of hot chocolate I had in years? Give me a second, I’m sure I’ll figure out something else,” you babbled and Steve’s smile grew, tense shoulders relaxing. “Seriously, Steve. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I owe you. I- I know you’re a hero and all that, but… yeah. I should be asking you what I could do for you in return.”

“That’s not-- I’m not--- ...you make a pleasant company,” he said in the end as if he realized he couldn't deny any of the things you had listed. You lowered your gaze to the chocolate as his eyes twinkled at the statement.

“Ditto.”

“Does that-” he blurted out and you tilted your head to side, watching him curiously when he stopped talking just as abruptly. “This is a terrible timing, but that’s apparently an infamous quality of mine, because usually I wait too long, and… uhm…”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suddenly embarrassed soldier scratching the back of his neck, peeking at your through his eyelashes. Was that--- was he trying to-? No, it couldn’t be.

“Yeah?” you softly encouraged him to continue.

He wetted his lips, causing your previously tight gut to warm up.

“I understand that it’s the last thing you’re thinking about right now, but… when you settle down again... and things are a bit calmer for you… would you- uhm,  like to… maybe spend some more time with--- with me?”

If he had blurted the sentence in one go, you would have dropped your mug in surprise despite suspecting this incredible thing when he had turned bashful. But he didn’t so your brain had enough time to process the words slowly leaving his lips, one after another, little shy, little hopeful. Your heart was speeding up with each of them, ready to burst when he finished with a tiny nervous smile.

Well. How could you possibly say no to that irresistible creature in front of you? You smiled into your drink.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

You wanted to chuckle at the pure surprise on his face, but it was just too endearing and so you had to fight the urge to make an embarrassing sound like an aww instead.

“Yeah, Steve. I’d really like that,” you repeated, hiding the teasing note in your voice. “But you’ve got to teach me how to make a chocolate that good, because seriously, it tastes amazing.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” you demanded, a bit hurt, rather surprised. “I don’t want you to give up your secret recipe right away! Just… in time.”

He grinned at you boyishly, leaning a bit closer to you. You held your breath in anticipating, a the change. “I could. But then I wouldn’t get to enjoy the process of preparing it for you and your smile in return.”

You stared at him for few moments, taking the statement in, wondering if he was teasing you or was being serious. The corners of his lips were quirked up as if he was indeed joking, but there was a certain spark of honesty in his eyes.

You decided to play along, whether it was a game or not. Perhaps it was the relief of newly found freedom from a sleazy man in your life that plucked up your courage and woke up your jovial side.

“Aww, Steve, that’s so sweet. Is that your way of telling me you’re planning on spoiling me? Because then I would need significantly less time to… settle down.”

His grin widened at your words. “Is that so?”

“Mm.”

“Well then…” he brought up lowly, torturing you with anticipation when he didn’t continue, only to watch you with a mischievous smile.

“...then?”

“What are your plans for Friday evening?”

Oh, you were so glad you were sitting, because otherwise the force of the moment in which Steve Rogers asked you out on Friday night would knock you down.

You tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t sound like an over-enthusiastic YES, but his blue eyes staring into yours made it very difficult for you.

Dammit, it was harder to talk to him when you could actually see--- you smiled smugly at the idea that popped up in your head and raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.

“I’m hiding in a supply closet. Why, you wanna join me?”

Steve burst out laughing, throwing his head back with that sound and the picture armed your heart so thoroughly it was unfair.

“Sure thing. Would you like me to bring muffins and coffee or do you prefer an actual dinner?”

You found yourself laughing too and you suddenly believed that your life would indeed get better. It already had, after all.

S.R. masterlist

Beautiful divider by @whimsicalrogers 

Thank you for the kind feedback on the first part and I hope you liked this one too :))

Thank you for reading!

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x you #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #mcu #marvel #in the strangest place we just might find love #anika ann

[thewidowsghost]

Gone - Part 1 (Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Stark!Reader)

Masterlist

(Y/n) glances over from beside her father, meeting her redhead's gaze.Natasha's eyes glimmer, and (Y/n) beams at the little dog resting in her lap.(Y/n) Stark had gone the beginning of her young life single.

But that was before she met Natasha Romanoff, the gorgeous redheaded former assassin. The two had met when Natasha was undercover in Stark Industries back in 2010.

Natasha had instantly found an attraction to the younger Stark and (Y/n) couldn't take her eyes off Natasha - Natalie - at the time.

It wasn't until the end of the whole predicament with Hammer that (Y/n) had learned the redhead's true identity - Natasha Romanoff.

(Y/n) had been the one to have enough courage to ask Natasha out on their first date. Natasha had smiled a little at (Y/n)'s nervousness and agreed.

Four years later, the two were still going strong, and Tony had no idea that the two young women were in a relationship.

(Y/n) glances over from beside her father, meeting her redhead's gaze.

Natasha's eyes glimmer, and (Y/n) beams at the little dog resting in her lap.

Natasha was the one who had gotten (Y/n) the Australian Shepherd for Christmas when they had returned to their shared apartment half an hour away from the Compound.

Scout - the Australian Shepherd puppy - raises her head and nuzzles (Y/n)'s chin.

Scout's tail wags happily, and she jumps off the younger Stark's lap and streaks over to Natasha and Wanda - who were sitting on the same couch. Wanda was very much fond of her mentor.

Scout yips excitedly, and Natasha raises an eyebrow at the puppy but does lean forward and pick up the shepherd, Wanda petting the dog.

Steve walks into the room, his brow furrowed when he announces to the Avengers in the room, "We have a mission!"

"Who?" Tony asks, his gaze shifting to the Capsicle.

"Everyone," Steve replies, and (Y/n) frowns, her face turning grim at the thought of her love, father, and best friend leaving to go on yet another dangerous mission.

The other Avengers scramble around, grabbing their mission suits and their mission gear.

(Y/n) had walked down to the workshops where there were a few Iron Man suits that needed repairing.

"Are you going to be alright?" Natasha asks softly, walking up to her girlfriend.

(Y/n) nods, though a soft scowl is still prominent on her face.

Natasha softens, letting her fingers stroke between (Y/n)'s eyebrows, and frown slides off (Y/n)'s face.

(Y/n) smiles endearingly at her girlfriend, her gaze gentle.

"Be careful," (Y/n) says softly, the other Avengers walking through the workshop. She waits until the rest of her friends cross into the other room before she places a soft kiss on Natasha's lips. "I love you," she murmurs. "Come home safe."

"I will," Natasha replies, her eyes soft and loving.

Scout lets out a soft bark, and Natasha leans down to caress the puppy on the head.

Natasha straightens back up and (Y/n) turns, placing the new prototype of Natasha's Widow's Bites onto her girlfriend's wrists.

"Please be careful," (Y/n) repeats, and Natasha nods calmly, used to (Y/n)'s worry - as (Y/n) wasn't an Avenger but an inventor like her father.

"I'll come home to you," Natasha murmurs, and (Y/n) smiles warmly.

"Coming, Nat?" Clint pokes his head into the workshop.

"Yeah," Natasha jogs over to her old friend.

"Good luck," (Y/n) calls after the two.

The Avengers board the Quinjet, and (Y/n) remains in the workshop with Scout.

Suddenly, the power turns off, and Scout whimpers and shrinks to stand behind (Y/n).

(Y/n) stands still for a moment, her eyes adjusting to the lack of light; it is almost pitch black.

Suspicious, she crouches under one of the workshop tables, Scout clutched tightly to her chest, and she had placed her hand over to puppy's muzzle to keep her from barking.

"Shh," (Y/n) murmurs, soothing the dog in her lap.

Scout lets out a soft whimper, burying her head into (Y/n)'s neck.

Scout lets out a yelp as a resounding boom echoes through the Compound.

"Shh," (Y/n) soothes, rises to her feet, and slinks forward to put Scout into one of the closets - (Y/n) would get Scout later after she figured out what was going on.

"Boss," comes FRIDAY's voice through the Iron Man suit.

"What is it, FRIDAY?" Tony asks as he blasts some of the HYDRA agents with his repulsors.

"There's been a power outage at the Compound," FRIDAY tells Tony, and the billionaire's eyes widen with fear.

"What's the status on (Y/n)?" Tony asks.

"I don't know, Boss," FRIDAY says. "I'm locked out of the system."

"Looks like you fell for our little trap," says a HYDRA agent, and Tony's heart floods with fear.

"We've got to get back to the Compound," Tony says into the COMs, blasting the HYDRA agent.

"Why?" It's Natasha who answers, and Tony is slightly confused at the former assassin's worried tone.

"There's been a huge power outage at the Compound, and FRIDAY can't power it back up," Tony tells the team.

"We've got to go, then," Steve says.

Natasha is rather fidgety on the Quinjet ride back to the Compound, the other Avengers notice.

Wanda wants to know what her mentor is thinking but has enough respect for her not to delve into Natasha's mind.

Natasha is the first one off the Quinjet, plunging into the darkened Compound.

Natasha hears a wail from the closet where she and (Y/n) had said goodbye not even three hours before.

Natasha opens the closet door, her muscles tensed, ready for a fight, but she lowers her guard when she sees that it's Scout.

The Australian Shepherd whimpers softly as she buries her head in Natasha's chest, the former assassin having kneeled to greet Scout.

"Where is she, huh?" Natasha asks softly, cuddling the puppy close to her chest.

When the rest of the Avengers - minus Tony - finally find Natasha, they find her in the same position - cuddling (Y/n)'s puppy in her arms.

"We have to find her," Natasha says, straightening up, and as she does, the lights flicker and then turn on.

Finally noticing the chaos in the workshop, Natasha inhales sharply.

Drawers of filing cabinets had been thrown open.

There was blood on the floor.

Natasha's breath stumbles as she sees the blood. Her heart races, thudding in her chest.

Tony walks into the room, his eyes wide with shock.

"Come on," Natasha says despairingly, stepping forward to look into Tony's eyes. "We've got to find her."

And with that, Natasha marches out of the workshop and to the control room, Scout still cuddled into her.

The puppy had rested her head on Natasha's left shoulder, her small nose touching Natasha's neck. Scout's soft breathing familiarly hits Natasha's neck - like how (Y/n)'s breath would when they were cuddling on the couch in their shared apartment's living room - and Natasha's heart aches with anguish.

Tony comes into the control room sometime later. Maybe midnight, Natasha thinks.

The redhead had sat down in a chair, patrolling all the cameras as they scanned around, looking for (Y/n) everywhere; Scout had fallen asleep in her lap.

Natasha had gone slightly hysterical, snarking at everyone who tried to convince her to leave the room, but Tony doesn't try. After a moment, the emerald-eyed former assassin glances over to look at her love's father.

"Here," is the only thing Tony says as he hands his friend a peanut butter sandwich.

"Thanks, Tony," Natasha says softly, taking a bit of the sandwich. "You here to help look for (Y/n)?"

There is another pause. and Tony murmurs, "And to see a friend."

"Clearly, your friend is fine," Natasha says, taking a bit of her sandwich, her eyes welling with tears again.

Natasha can tell by Tony's silence that he wants to ask her a question, but he doesn't. Tony pats her on the shoulder comfortingly before he leaves the room.

Word Count: 1333 words

Love you guys!                  Kaitlynn ❤️😊

Taglist:

@just-dreaming-marvel

@marsromanoff

@procrastinatingsapphictrash

@theofficialzivadavid

@chickenhavewisdom​

@fayharper​

@acertainredhead​

@capsicle118​

@natasharomanoffswife​

@natasharomanoffismywife

#Natasha romanoff x stark reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x fem reader #mentor natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff

[gally-hin-phantom]

Revamp of my Film Noir Au, now named Mafia Au 

Danny lives a double-life, but this time is an hitman instead of a superhero, and all ghosts (minus Clockwork) are his targets/victims

Because like you know I love Aus where Danny isn’t playing nice 😈

xxx

Additional Arts with Jazz/Vlad/Dani and Au Information below the “Keep Reading”

(Triggers Warning: mention of violence and death) 

——————————————————————— Name: Daniel James Fenton Nickname: Danny Occupation: Part Time Nasty Burger employee / Pro Hitman Age: 23 Codename: Phantom Kill Count: ??? Personal Gun: Smith and Wesson M&P 9mm Abilities: Smart, good liar, social skills, self-defense, guns skills, knife skills, first aid, parkour

History: 

Daniel Fenton is the youngest son of Maddie and Jack Fenton. His parents died when he was still in middle school, leaving him alone with his hospitalized older sister Jazz Fenton and a lot of debts.

In high school, he started to steal money to keep his parents’ house and pay for Jazz’s hospitalization.

One day, without noticing he was stealing drug dealers, he accidentally got caught in a shoot-out. After the slaughter, hidden behind a bin, he met “The Master of Time” a professional hitman. At first the hitman wanted to kill him in order to erased any witness but Danny begged him to spare his life and to teach him assassination instead. Confused but intrigued by so much will, and after serious warnings the hitman accepted Danny as his apprentice. One year after, Danny got his first mission and target, an ex-policeman by the name of Percival Walker.

In the beginning Danny only wanted to target dubious people, but after being call « monster » by one of his victim, and then killing the innocent witness Dorathea Legrand, he stopped caring and started to accept missions with innocents and even children.

Each mission usually brought him between 15’000$ and 30’000$, after the intermediate commission he stored the rest on 5 separate bank accounts with different names, and lied to Jazz about his current job, saying that their parents left them a lot of insurance money.

He approximately killed 3-6 persons a year but hadn’t killed anyone in the last year and started to run out of money. In April, he gladly accepted his next mission, a wealthy businessman in the name of Vladimir Masters.

Morals: 

Danny is now ok to kill people, after all animals kill to eat, humans also kill animals for food. Receiving money to kill somebody isn’t so different from receiving money to butcher a cow for steak. After long conversations with his vegan friend Sam, he concluded that animals' lives don’t worth less than human lives. Moreover humans kill other humans, for oils or other horrible beliefs (racism, homophobia etc…). At least he does it to help his sister and not twisted pleasure. Like he says “He didn’t have a choice and can’t go back.”

Danny used to but doesn't have regrets anymore, “What's done is done” and what he earns help him to keep Fenton Works and Jazz alive by moving her to a better hospital. 

He doesn’t have guilt either, the one to blame is the person who asks him to kill. The one to blame is the person who wants to kill, not the knife. Like a knife he is only a ‘tool’.

Even if he never sees a ghost he believes in a sort of afterlife, and isn’t scared of death. He only hopes to survive long enough until Jazz fully heals.

Memorable Kills:

Mission 1: Jailbreak Target name: Percival Walker Occupation: Prison Guardian, ex-policeman Cause of Death: Shooted in the head

Mission 2: Djinn Target name: ? Occupation: Secret mistress of a wealthy businessman Cause of Death: Stabbed in the throat Notes: Commissioned by the businessman’s jealous wife.

Mission ?: Specter Target name: ? Occupation: Teen therapist/counselor Cause of Death: Shouted several time all over her body Notes: Called Danny « freak » and « monster » right before death.

Mission ?: Plague Target name: Aragon Legrand Occupation: Heir of a powerful wealthy family Cause of Death: Shouted in the head Notes: Dorathea Legrand, Aragon’s sister, unexpectedly intervened during the mission, trying to protect her brother. She was also killed to avoid witnesses.

Mission ?: Lullaby  Target: Ember McLain Occupation: Diva Cause of Death: Burned alive in her house, to make it look like an accident

Mission ?: BlueBlood Target name: ? Occupation: Rich Young Heir of a wealthy family Cause of Death: Suffocated in his sleep Notes: Youngest target, he was only 8

Mission ?: Snow Target name: ? Occupation: Journalist & Books Critic Cause of Death: Shouted in the head

xoxoxoxo

Name: Jasmine Panthea Fenton Occupation: Hospitalized civilian  Age: 24 Nickname (by Danny): Jazz, and sometimes before her hospitalization Panny

History:

Hospitalized for a long time her health seems to deteriorate with each passing day, though moving to a better hospital seems to have stabilized her a bit.

Danny is making sure to visit her at least twice a week to keep her company and brought her plenty of books he lends from the library (even if she doesn’t always have the strength to read its, she is happy to have Danny to keep her company).

Though weaker, Jazz is intelligent and doesn’t believe one second the “insurance money” excuse, but she lets Danny has his secrets anyway until the day he decides to tell her everything. Little she suspects her baby brother, who smells like fried food and cheap burgers, has his hands covered with blood.

xoxoxoxo

Name: Unknown but his Initials are C.W. Occupation: Retired Hitman, intermediate Age: ??? Codename: Master of Time Nickname (by Danny): ClockWork Kill Count: ???

History: 

After teaching everything he knows to Danny, he got shot in the knee and forced to retire. He now uses his old connections to act as an intermediate to find him missions.

Clockwork knows Danny only kill to help his sister and is actually very protective of him. He tries to help him and keep him as far as he can from too dangerous missions, even if Phantom’s skills and abilities to kill fast without letting traces are highly sought-after, resulting in more dangerous missions and famous targets.

xoxoxoxo

Mission ?: Plasmius Target name: Vladimir Mikhailovich Masters Occupation: One of the wealthiest businessman of the world Nickname (by Danny): Fruitloop Age: 49 Note: The bounty for his head would be able to finish paying Danny’s debts

History: 

Vlad has a lot of enemies. He is a billionaire and is always on the right side of the law but also do a lot of devious stuffs in the shadows (child labor, ecologic disasters etc…). For humanity's sake, he is literally better dead.

Danny tracked Vlad for months before having the chance to point a gun on the almost untouchable man.

xoxoxoxo

Name: Danielle Masters Dead Name: Kim S. Occupation: Vlad’s personal bodyguard, keeps an eye on her master’s security 24/7 Age: 22 Nickname (by Danny): Elle Kill Count: ??? Personal weapons: Glock 26 and several knives hidden in her boots and jacket Abilities: Smart, good liar and actress, high class social skills, self-defense, guns skills, knife skills, first aid, parkour, high education, bilingual  

History: 

Vlad found her during one of his visits in a warzone country. In one rare act of kindness (?), he took her with him, raised her and paid for her « training ».

While acting as Vlad’s clingy and annoying daughter, she is in fact his close bodyguard. Dani is very devoted and would give her life for her « father » without an once of hesitation.

She usually wears a long jacket to hide her small thought muscular build and wears cloths comfy enough to run and jump.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #clockwork #jazz fenton #vlad masters #dani phantom #maddie the cat #gally draws #mafia au #lost time #or au where halfas have a double life #yes lost time :3 because I like this dynamic #danny is a good boy who don’t have luck #i kinda want to add more art to this au but it won’t really help me improve :( #and imma tired #wanted to redesign clockwork for a long time now #but I make an human design instead oof #ragequitting the art because it’s take me too long and i’m too tired to do more

[asphodel-storm]

So. If Cobra Kai were DC.

First off, the man who is the source of most problems, John Kreese:

Kreese’s mentor was an agent of the League of Shadows/Assassins planted within the military. Kreese was invited to take his place after his death. He trained with Ra’s al Ghul after the war and then left to found Cobra Kai as a covert recruitment operation for the League (not every Cobra alum became an assassin, only the ones Kreese saw that potential in). Johnny was on the path to recruitment and it was the loss against Daniel and resulting fallout that changed that. Kreese has been on League business every time he’s been ‘dead’. 

Mr. Miyagi:

Mr. Miyagi was a Green Lantern. The ring chose him a while after he received his medal of honor and he was protecting the universe secretly during the Karate Kid movies. When Daniel overcomes his fear in TKK 3, Miyagi retires and the ring chooses Daniel.

Daniel LaRusso:

Daniel was a Green Lantern for years (a secret from everyone except Amanda and Miyagi), but the lantern’s power never replaced karate for him because karate is part of the balance that allows him to use the ring in the first place. The ring started to reject him during the period where his resentment of Johnny was overpowering his will (season 1-ish). It chose him again when he got a handle on that, but by then he had already turned his attention to teaching and empowering young people. He gave it up and it chose his daughter after she overcame her own fear at the end of season 3.

Samantha LaRusso

Samantha LaRusso was chosen by a Green Lantern ring after overcoming her fear and facing Tory at the end of season 3. She enters season 4 as a newly minted super hero. 

Tory Nichols 

Tory witnesses Sam as a Green Lantern early on. She has a lot of anger inside of her and seeing her rival - the girl who in her opinion was handed everything in life - chosen by cosmic power pushes her over the edge. Kreese encourages and feeds this anger, of course, though he does it with the intention of making Tory a better assassin. When a Red Lantern power ring chooses her that’s honestly a bonus. 

Johnny Lawrence 

Johnny was nearly recruited to the League of Assassins as a teenager - he would have been shipped off to official league training after highschool if he hadn’t lost to Daniel (and, likely, if Kreese hadn’t impulsively burned that bridge before remembering the larger plan). Instead, he was approached by the representative of an anonymous east coast billionaire after high school and paid to use his connection to the ‘late’ John Kreese  - and pre-assassin training - to infiltrate and sabotage some activities the League of Shadows had going in the Valley. He never learned the full extent of what the League was or his or Kreese’s connections to it during this time (like, he probably could have if he’d tried, but he’s Johnny). He was inconsistent at best in his vigilantism after that, putting on a mask and patrolling more when he needed an outlet than based on the needs of the community. He was briefly the ‘Batman of the Valley’ when Batman first franchised out into Batman Inc. He’d given that up for years by the time he met Miguel, but dusts off his cape when he learns of new League operations in the Valley in season 4 (likely being run by Terry Silver). 

His ‘cape’ is actually a red leather bodysuit. He definitely calls himself something like DeathFist or DeathFang or whatever in the long tradition of people in red bodysuits being called stuff like that (DeadShot, DeathStroke, etc.). 

Miguel Diaz

Miguel will hit the streets patrolling with his mentor, but the transition to vigilantism also hits him at a time when he’s realized he probably shouldn’t have Johnny on such a pedestal so he’ll also use the opportunity to strike out alone or with friends. The transition also comes at a time when Miguel has noticed certain changes about himself he can’t explain - like how he destroyed Demetri’s tv with lasers that shot out of his eyes when he got a bit too competitive about Mario Cart.

Yeah, the bad man Carmen moved them to escape was not connected to organized crime. He wasn’t Terry Silver. He was General freaking Zod. Why does General Zod live in Ecuador? He’s building up forces there. Anyways, Miguel is half Kryptonian and just awakening to his powers since his body has been healing from the school fight. The injury was a kind of catalyst and as he heals he’s also becoming invulnerable. So much for his rivalry with Robby, right? Nope, that’s still on. 

Robby Keene

Kreese thinks a mistake he made with Johnny was not bringing him into the fold sooner and getting him excited about the prospect of the League of Shadows. He knows very well that Robby will march out of Cobra Kai forever if he mentions anything about assassins before he’s ‘ready’, but he does start letting him know about the secret society of warriors and introduce him to some alumni who are with the league now. Maybe show off some missions where they actually intervened for good. Essentially, he makes him feel like he could be part of something - something that feels like family - which is bigger than himself (which is already an established part of his schtick). 

As part of this pre-assassin buttering up, Kreese procures something special for Robby - gloves laced with kryptonite. He told him it would only level the playing field between him and Miguel, but it is enough to weaken Miguel enough to be killed. The plan is for Robby to go in thinking ‘Miguel is pretty much indestructible even with these gloves’ so he goes all out and kills him and then while he’s dealing with the trauma of having killed him Kreese can pull him fully into the League. While the plan won’t work, the path to it will see Robby getting a lot more weapons/assassin-specific training than Johnny did.

He will eventually take over Johnny’s suit and code name.

Eli ‘Hawk’ Moskowitz

Kreese’s plan for Robby is a more elaborate and thought out version of his original plan for Hawk. Hawk was never really a top priority for Kreese, but he spiraled so nicely that it seemed he could be plucked off into assassin-dom early. He saw Tory and Robby as better prospects than Hawk for long term use in the valley in part because he expected to have Hawk shipped off to train under Lady Shiva by now. He just had to rip the murder bandaid, and the plan was to push him until he killed Demetri. 

Because Hawk was on the fast track, and because he was so good at convincing himself he didn’t care what he’d done to Demetri’s arm, Kreese actually already let him in on the true nature of Cobra Kai. He didn’t know for long before leaving and its not like he had any strategically vital info, but he knows enough to make him a loose end. Kreese sends the Cobras (minus Robby, but possibly including a Tory who isn’t quite used to her new power yet) after him. Hawk is murdered. And isn’t that a waste? 

Kreese set it up, but when the likes of Tory and Robby almost leave over it he pins it on Kyler ‘going overboard’ and says it’s fine, they can save him. Hawk gets thrown in a Lazarus Pit and rises confused and angry. Under the grips of Pit Madness he temporarily forgets a lot (like leaving Cobra Kai and reconciling with Demetri and Miguel, but also things like his parents. Kid is a very angry blank slate.) and since most people think he’s dead its pretty easy to send him to the League. He’ll turn up again a few months later, when the League sends a squad to secure their interests in the valley. He breaks off when he can’t quite kill Demetri in a fight, but he doesn’t remember why and roams around the valley causing trouble or helping out as he sees fit until Demetri can get through to him (Demetri’s eternal struggle). 

He doesn’t call himself Red Hood, but you get the gist. Hawk is already a code name. 

Demetri [Insert Surname]

Got Eli back only to lose him for good. He thought. Until Not-Red Hood shows up and causes problems. But the slippery assassin keeps getting away before he can really talk to him! Miguel is steadily developing Super Powers and wants to help, but things are also heating up over in the Main Conflict and Demetri is left chasing Hawk alone a lot of the time. 

Maybe it’s that determination that causes his latent metagene to activate. 

Demetri only ever thought super speed was the second best superpower, but he rethinks that after he has it. In hindsight, his smart ass does fit the speedster profile and Eli definitely can’t get away now! 

His lightning when he runs is blue.

And yep, that’s all for now. I’ll never write a fic for this ‘verse it’s just fun to think about. More so about how after the San Fernando branch of the League of Shadows is destroyed the kids can all make up and form a cool super team. Also, if I were to write fic, it would be Demeli. As I'm sure anyone I've interacted with in this fandom knows.

#cobra kai #hawk cobra kai #demetri cobra kai #eli hawk moskowitz #daniel larusso #Johnny Lawrence #john kreese #sam larusso #tory nichols #robby keene #mr miyagi #the karate kid #binary boyfriends #demeli #dc comics

[karimamk]

Movie review timeeeeee

So I watched don’t look up and you know obviously an all star cast and I was super looking forward to it, and you know obviously I was let down by how terrible it was lmao

So like first of all don’t come at me saying I didn’t understand it or how that’s actually how people would react, because that’s not what I’m saying, the whole concept of scientists finding out the world is ending and the government wanting to ignore/hide it and people literally not caring was not the problem, it was the atrocious acting by amazing actors and actresses. The entire cast seemed like they were forcing themselves to do these roles. Jennifer Lawrence’s character I’m indifferent about, because like honestly if I discovered what was gonna end the world I’d probably cry too and be incredibly stressed out, but like I don’t know if it’s just me but literally every time her character spoke I was cringing… I get that the idea is that this is realistically how people would react but again all of the acting felt forced. Also Jonah hills character was literally only there for comedic relief from the rest of the awkwardness and forced acting.

Second of all, the stupidity of the ending. Everyone being eaten by some alien dinosaur thing was unnecessary, and Jonah Hills character somehow surviving ruined the entire movie if you didn’t already hate the movie, after watching these scenes you definitely did hate the movie. If the movie had ended with all of them sitting around the table eating dinner and then dying together as the world obliterated, I think that would’ve changed my perspective on the whole movie being awful, but only slightly lol, I feel like that would’ve been a more powerful ending because like after all they did the world still ended, no fairy tale ending where they all miraculously survived and lived happily ever after, you know, like it just ends and that’s that.

Okay also thirdly, they brought religion into the movie and I thought that was super weird/controversial, because it was placed in there so awkwardly because he had started praying after seeing the comet for the first time and the girl questioned him being religious like what was the point of even including this conversation? Whether the character is religious or not, the world was ending, and his religion had nothing to do with the plot of the movie it was like an extra detail that wasn’t needed, it didn’t make the plot better or worse or more interesting it was just there???

Fourth point, I read the description of this movie and it sounded great, the trailer looked decent, and so again I was excited, but then i watched it and it felt like I watched a $5 knock off version of what I was promised lmao it could’ve been great, the idea and concept is great, the cast is great, but the actual movie is trash and that really sucks

Fifth point, not really a point but yeah: the most realistic parts of this movie were the government trying to hide and ignore the world ending, a billionaire trying to make money off of the world ending, everyone literally ignoring Kate even though she discovered it and it subtly hinting that because she’s a woman in the science field shes not being taken seriously especially after crying and being considered “too emotional”, and also everyone going to an Ariana Grande concert even though the world is ending lol

Last point lol, so this movie totally gives me Knowing vibes, everyone also hated that movie and the ending had something to do with aliens again, but I actually liked Knowing minus the aliens lol. I think if Knowing came out today more people would have liked it I feel like it didn’t exactly fit in 2009 you know?? Anyways, Don’t look up is literally the 2021 version of the 2009 Knowing movie and let me tell you why:

- The world is ending

- A person/group of people try to understand/stop the end of the world

- Said person/group dies in the end but not before having an argument with each other and splitting up before coming back together

- Weird alien ending

Ok I’m done now I know a lot of people loved the movie and everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but this is mine, so don’t tell me I’m wrong because I can’t get my own opinion wrong, even if it differs from yours. If you did enjoy this movie though, why? Genuinely curious lol

#karimamk #toronto #personal #movie rant #don’t look up #not a fan #knowing #knowing 2009 #don’t look up 2021 #jennifer lawrence #leonardo dicaprio #meryl streep #jonah hill #timothee chalamet #2/10 would recommend #probably my longest rant #opinion #personal opinion

[not-close-to-straight]

100% Professional (Three)

MASTERLIST

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

"Tell me about Gwen." Wade flinched when Peter's fingers dug too sharply into his back, and Peter soothed with a quiet sound and lightened the pressure. "You mentioned her last week. Girlfriend?" 

"Wade." Peter sighed over loud. "Don't you think I would have mentioned a girlfriend at some point in the last month? Every week I come here, strip you down, oil you up--" Wade snorted a laugh and Peter grinned. "--and then we spend all week texting like our fingers are gonna fall off. What part of that sounds like I have a girlfriend?" 

"Okay, not a girlfriend then." Another flinch over a particularly sore spot. "Ouch, get away from there, Pete." 

"I will do no such thing." The brunette said blandly, gently but no less purposefully working at the knot near the base of Wade's spine. "You've got a pile of bullshit right here that makes my back hurt just thinking about it, so you'll lay here and take it like a champ. Think of America and it will all be over soon." 

"Wow, we've really just slid right past professional and straight into slightly abusive territory--OW!" Wade jumped when Peter pinched at his side, jumped and then gulped when the pinch turned into a touch that was damn near a caress as Peter settled him back down. "Um... what's up?" 

"Sorry." Peter's palm lingered for just few seconds more, then he went back to work. "I didn't really think about how it might hurt you to jump like that. Sorry." 

"You're apologizing for making me jump but not for pinching me?" 

"Talk shit, get hit." Peter said lightly and Wade laughed again. "Anyway. Gwen is definitely not my girlfriend. She has a sort of boyfriend right now anyway, and when we tried dating before, it just didn’t work out. She's got all these big plans to save the world by taking on big companies for all their environmental disregard and terrible health benefits for employees and I want to stay home and eat pizza. Obviously that’s two different goal sets.”

“Don’t mean there isn’t something there.” 

“Wade, last week she posted an article about how billionaires shouldn't exist because they only get that way by stepping on the backs of others and it was unethical to the point of demanding a guillotine.” Peter pointed out. “She got eggs thrown at her as she walked into work, so she whipped around and threw eggs right back. She had a twelve pack in her purse for such an occasion.” 

"She sounds  real pleasant." Wade grunted and Peter countered, "Gwen is wonderful. She just refuses to take shit for saying what she thinks. I wish I was half as brave." 

"I dunno, coming to random guy's apartments to give them massages seems pretty brave." Wade hissed out a breath when Peter flipped the towel up over his legs and started in at his calves. "I could be a serial killer, Pete. This could be most dangerous place in the world." 

"I know about a billion spots on your body to press at to make you scream." Peter said dryly. "I'm not worried about it. Also, threatening that you may in fact be a serial killer is like the worst flirting ever. Total boner killer." 

"I wasn't trying to flirt." Wade denied. "That would just be creepy, flirting with you while you're rubbing my naked body. Stay professional Pete, damn. Mentioning boners while I'm vulnerable seems like a quick way to get the cops called on you." 

"You're about to get pinched again." Peter threatened, but he was laughing, and Wade settled back down onto the table to just listen. 

A whole month they'd been doing this now, Peter coming all the way uptown to work on Wade. Twice weekly, shorter sessions seemed to be better for Wade so Peter had adjusted his rate accordingly and Wade had compensated by actually paying more to cover the transportation times. Peter fussed about the money via text, Wade replied with snark and sass, Peter sent a barrage of memes back, Wade rolled his eyes over and over at the nonsense... it was good. 

It was good and Wade didn't bother lying to himself about how much the massages were helping him heal, how much he enjoyed Peter's company, how his face lit up every time his phone chimed. 

And it wasn't professional-- well, the massages were professional minus a little good natured ribbing, but nothing else was. Peter was open and honest and teasing, Wade was sarcastic and probably obnoxious and when Peter had called him yesterday to talk about his day at work,  the phone call lasted for well over an hour before they said good bye. 

Peter was outright blatant in talking about how he liked Wade's body, he joked about swooning for muscles, poked fun at Wade for ogling his butt and Wade couldn't deny it. They joked about Wade being a sugar daddy every time money passed hands and Peter talked about needing to pick up more clients like Wade if this was how rich people acted and there were a million references to 'this isn't porn, I'm not that kind of a massage therapist' and it-- it--

--well, it was flirting and it was attraction despite Wade's scars and the several year age difference. It was easy and painless after so much of his life being awful and Wade didn't know the last time he'd thought about dating or even sex but holy shit, Peter made him think all sorts of things. 

It wasn't professional, but it was certainly something. 

"Turn over for me?" Peter smoothed his hands down Wade's side and patted at his hip. "Let me work at your front a little bit." 

"Um--" Wade hesitated, suddenly aware that all his thoughts about Peter had led to a rather delicate...situation. "Pete, why don’t we hold off a bit?” 

"It was alright last time, wasn't it?" Peter busied himself at his bag for a moment to give Wade a bit of privacy. "Didn't hurt too bad?" 

"Well no, but uh, seriously, lets give it a minute.” Wade’s rise and shine wasn’t exactly unimpressive but he knew damn well the first time to show it off wasn’t mid-massage. “I’m just gonna... meditate on my Grammy a little bit.” 

"I brought a weighted blanket for you." Peter held up the blanket with an almost sheepish smile. "Last night when we were texting, you mentioned how since the accident you started standing sideways, always trying to protect your front and that you didn't realize it til I asked you to turn over last appointment and it about made you panic." 

"...alright?" 

"So I brought you a weighted blanket." Peter shook out the quilt and offered it up. "I thought maybe it would feel like body armor or something, maybe it would feel like protection? And it would take care of that little bit of panic you get when you’re belly up and vulnerable.” 

“Belly up, huh?” Wade felt like he wanted to cry all the sudden, and while it was a thankfully instant boner killer, he still hated it, still hated being brought to the edge just because Peter had not only listened as he rambled, but also thought of a way to help. “So I freaked out, and you brought me a blanket? Neat.” 

His therapists had never tried a blanket. They’d been more worried about how he still had nightmares and couldn't walk past tall walls with no windows. God forbid a big truck rolled past on the street, it sent Wade into a straight panic every time and even though he’d purposefully bought the penthouse apartment so he didn’t have to hear traffic noise and random voices, the panic still crept up and lingered if he looked out the window too long.  

He hated it-- he hated it-- and now Pete had bought him a weighted blanket just to try and help and it was all a little too much.

"That's-- Pete, that's completely unnecessary." He insisted, cursing when his voice shook. "I don't need a blankie, I'm not a child. I'll roll over and it's fine." 

"I'm sure it's unnecessary and I know you're fine." Peter ignored Wade’s protest and stretched the blanket out anyway, settling it at the sides of the table. "But tell me how this is anyway." 

The blanket was heavy and warm, comfortingly weighted along every major point of Wade's body, from the tip of his toes clear to his shoulders and even the base of his neck. It felt like full body armor and when Wade breathed out it fell even heavier across his frame. 

And for the first time since the fucking explosion, Wade actually felt safe. 

"Wade?" Peter murmured. "You've been quiet for a while, is everything okay?" 

"It's--everything is--" Damn it. Wade screwed his eyes up tight and pushed his face into the table as he started shaking. "Shit." 

"Hey hey hey." Peter knelt at the front of the front of the table and reached for Wade's hands. "Wade. Too much? Should I get rid of it? I'm sorry, I was just trying to help." 

Wade pushed up onto his elbows but kept his head hanging, and Peter stood up again, stepping close until Wade's forehead was resting against his stomach. "Can you talk to me? Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine." Wade shifted his weight onto one arm and wrapped the other around Peter's waist. "Can you stay here a minute?" 

"Of course I can." Peter's heart clenched when Wade's trembling got worse. "I'm right here, right here. I'm not going anywhere." 

**********

Wade didn't know how long he lay there clutching at Peter while the kid held him tight and rubbed up and down his back, but by the time he came back to himself, the last little bit of sunlight had faded from the windows and the living room was dark. 

"...Pete?" 

"Hey, you back with me?" Peter's fingers were resting at Wade's pulse, but they slid back to tracing circles at his shoulder blades and down his back. "How are you doing?" 

"How long have I been--" 

"That doesn't matter, I was here and everything was fine." Peter interrupted. "Your muscles are locked up right now from laying like this though, so I'm going to help you sit up real slow alright? Nice and easy, slow and smooth. Gonna leave the blanket over your shoulders so there isn't any shock to your system, no sudden cold or weightlessness or anything, okay? You with me?" 

"M'with you, Pete." Wade couldn't even be embarrassed over his apparent melt down when Peter was being so patient, and with a little help, he sat up all the way and swung his feet over the side of the table, then automatically reached out for Peter again, needing the contact to ground him.

"I'm right here." Peter stepped right between Wade's legs, right up into his space and tore the top off a water bottle, pressing it into Wade's hands. "Small sips, work through it. I'm going to stay right here until you're ready for me to move." 

"Kay." Wade took little sips of water until the trembles had gone from his hands, and in between swallows he rested his forehead on Peter's shoulder, shuddering under constant, reassuring touches over the blanket. "I'm really sorry about this." 

"Sorry about what?" Peter ran careful fingers up and over Wade's bare scalp, working at his temples with light pressure. "Sorry about letting me hold you and get my hands on this smoking bod?" 

Wade laughed hoarsely. "Pete--" 

"Wade." Peter swallowed back his own tears and shook his head. "I realize we full on ballerina jumped across about a thousand professional boundaries tonight but that's fine. It's fine. I don't care. Friends who flirt, right? We can be friends who flirt and people who hold each other through this sort of thing. It's fine." 

"I uh-- I didn't expect to have a fuckin' break down cos you gave me a blanket." Wade muttered. "All the therapy I've been to and no one suggested a goddamn blanket?" 

"Did you ever tell your therapist you had a hard time sleeping on anything but your side cos you feel too exposed?" Peter pointed out calmly. "Or that you pile on clothes because you don't like feeling too naked? You had to get raging drunk just to get through being shirtless for our first appointment, Wade. It wasn't a big leap to think maybe you could use something like this." 

"But why do you even know about them?”

"I lost my Uncle Ben when I was in high school." Peter said softly. "We had a fight, I went out walking in the cold and Ben came after me. Wrong place, wrong time, and he ended up getting involved in an armed robbery and I couldn’t save him. For years after that I was cold. Just always cold. Felt like I was never going to be warm again after that night until I a weighted blanket to sleep under and I finally got better. When you told me how you didn't feel safe anymore-- I thought it would help you too." 

"Thank you." 

"It's fine." Peter budged even closer and put both arms around Wade's shoulders. "You want me to stay?" 

"Feel like I might fall apart if you leave." 

"Then I'll stay." 

********

"I didn't want to turn over cos I was thinking about you touching me and got a little... inflagrante delicto." Wade admitted some time later. "But uh, then the blanket happened and I freaked out and here we are." 

"Oh man, I was so close to getting to tap this and then went and ruined it with the blankie?" Peter teased lightly. "We'll have to revisit that later, huh?" 

"Right." Wade huffed. "Cos nothing says sexy like a man hiding beneath a blanket." 

"I dunno." Peter slid his hands beneath the blanket and back onto Wade's skin, smiling when Wade's breath got choppy all over again. "I've always wanted to do it in a blanket fort." 

"Oh my god." Wade's hands tightened at Peter's waist and they both sighed quietly. "Mr. Parker I think you're the man of my dreams. You show up and get me naked, use all sorts of slidey lotions and then announce you want to do it in a blanket fort? I've died and gone to heaven." 

Peter took a chance and pressed a feather light kiss to Wade's temple. "For the record, if you don't call me after this I will consider you a complete fuck boy and never talk to you again." 

"That's bull shit Pete, everyone calls fuck boys back, it's the nature of the game." 

"Oh fuck you and your fuck boy rules. I changed my mind, don't call me." 

“The hell I won’t.” 

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

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER

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

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping @quietgayguy @nanita90a @justaniche 

@chiby-chan @thanossucks @i-am-worth-it-25 @dan4thefam

#ncts fics #spideypool #peter parker #wade wilson

[gra-sonas]

Hi!!! I’m kind of new to the fandom and I was hoping I could ask you something. In 1x10 Michael shows Alex his stuff in his bunker and says “if anyone’s going to destroy me, might as well be you”. I don’t fully understand the implication he’s making here. I know it’s not necessarily romantic but I also know he’s not saying he believes Alex actually would. But I guess I don’t understand why he would say that or feel that way either.

One bummer about coming into the fandom late is missing all the fun posts and freak outs over lines like this. (Although I am grateful to miss out on what seems like a lot of drama from the show and in the fandom.) Alao just wanted to thank you, being new I’m a little overwhelmed in what I need to get caught up in and what to ignore or avoid. You’re very informative and kind and levelheaded so I’m staying in your corner of this fandom.

Hiiii, sweet nonnie, and welcome to the fandom! 🥰

Yeah, I can imagine that it sucks to come in late, but there’s always reasons to flail and get excited, insofar it’s not the worst thing. We should get some news about S3 soon-ish, and then you’ll be right in the middle of flailing with us! :D

Okay, on to 1x10 (sorry, I’ve been flailing about Superman & Lois all day, and it took me a while to write this reply 🙈)

“If anyone’s going to destroy me, might as well be you.” Ooooof, that’s Michael Guerin’s way of saying I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU. At least that’s how I understand it.

Michael’s learned earlier, that the man responsible for his severe injury, and ultimately Alex leaving a decade ago, knows about aliens and that he’s one of them. And just an episode ago, Alex told him “Sometimes the world ends with a whimper, Guerin.” 

So by all means, they are NOT on good terms when Michael learns about Project Shepard, and who’s behind it. Alex made it clear that they are over earlier (even though he kinda said that their love was “the world” 🥺), Michael went to Texas, made out and woke up with someone else in the desert, and only hours after he’s back in Roswell, Alex finds him at the junkyard.

And Alex pretty much makes a U-turn from what he said earlier in the episode (that things are over). He tells Michael he wants to get to know him [better], he wants to be friends [not just friends, but building a friendship as a foundation for something more - whether Michael understands Alex’s words that way’s a different question tho], and he admits, that there’s always been something “bigger” between them, even though they didn’t actually know each other that well.

Michael defines their connection as cosmic, and yeah, for lack of a better word, that’s what it is. Michael then asks whether Alex wants to know who he is, or what he is. And Alex says YES. To both.

When they talk, Michael’s basically vibrating out of his skin, he’s been dying to share his secret with Alex, he’s so tired of keeping that part of himself hidden, and he’s even more tired of all the lies.

He’s taken aback, when Alex doesn’t want to know about all the “cool alien shit” and instead asks about Michael’s childhood. I think Michael doesn’t realize that Alex is way more interested in getting to know who Michael is, that what he is.

Michael’s trying to move their conversation back to the topic of aliens, but Alex doesn’t seem to be overly interested in that. So Michael decides to pull out the “big guns”. He shows Alex his secret lair, and while that’s pretty cool and kinda Bruce Wayne-esque (minus being a billionaire), Alex still doesn’t seem to be too interested in the alien thing.

So Michael reveals his secret project to Alex, a project not even Isobel or Max know about. It’s something Michael’s been doing for almost a decade - finding and buying parts of the console in an attempt fo fix it. 

And while I’m sure that Alex is intrigued, he also seems to be a little horrified that Michael confides in him with something that important. And that’s when Michael puts his cards on the table. 

“If anyone’s going to destroy me, might as well be you.” meaning “I trust you with this knowledge, but if this revelation is ever going to bite me in the ass, then I want you to be the one who comes after me”. 

It’s kinda twisted. Michael knows Alex is a Manes, and I think he still has this lingering fear that Alex might turn out to be (or become) a Manes man (even though deep down he knows that’s not who Alex is, or ever will be), not because Alex is evil incarnate, but bc of Jesse.

Jesse who had so much power over Alex for basically his entire life, who very likely had a hand in Alex joining the military, who - to Michael - is at least in part responsible that Alex “broke up” with him in episode 1x03, Jesse, who’s running Project Shepard and might be able to “recruit” Alex in some way or other for it (not bc Alex is an evil killer or alien hater, but bc Jesse always had his way of getting what he wants from his sons).

So yeah, I think Michael’s kinda afraid that Alex could get roped into this alien hunting operation, but he trusts Alex, and even though confiding in Alex and letting him in on all his secrets might be his undoing eventually, he wants Alex equipped with all the knowledge.

Imo this is Michael’s way of telling Alex “I love you, and I trust you.”

Alex on the other hand, has a somewhat different conversation. He understands very well that Michael’s letting him in on a huge secret, and I think he would’ve preferred not to know (possibly bc he’s afraid of Jesse and worried Jesse might find out via Alex somehow?), but what’s even bigger for him is the fact that Michael’s telling him, that he’s been trying to leave the planet for a decade, and that once he has all the pieces, he might give it a try. 

And just a couple feet above their heads Alex’s car is parked, where - hidden in a backpack - one part of the unfinished alien console is waiting to be handed over to Michael.

AWKWARD. Also the realization for Alex, that it’s up to him whether Michael will ever be able to leave bc as long as Alex has the console piece, Michael won’t be able to finish rebuilding the console. 

Alex then cuts the entire conversation short and leaves. He has to process what Michael just told him (and imo it’s not about the fact that Michael’s an alien, Alex has known that for a while, I think he’s shocked to his core that Michael’s been trying to leave this whole time, and now it’s up to him whether Michael can).

So, Alex leaves to process, while Michael just sees a familiar thing happen: Alex is leaving. Always leaving. Leaving him behind. Leaving him alone. Leaving because Michael told him what he is. Only that’s not the case, Alex doesn’t care that Michael’s an alien. 

Ugh, these two. 😩I really hope they finally start TALKING in S3, and they’ll speak the same language while doing so.

I’m not sure whether any of this makes sense (my brain’s all over the place today), but that’s how I read this whole thing.

As for you trying to navigate the fandom: there are plenty of kind and really awesome people part of this fandom. I’m sure you’ll figure out fairly quickly which people are “your” people. Stick to them, and I’m sure, you’ll have a great time. 

My inbox is also always open (also off anon btw, I usually reply to off anon messages privately, or you can just put a “pls don’t publish” in your ask to make sure I don’t publish it), in case you want to chat. 

Hope you’re having a great time with us! ❤️

#nonnie asks #rnm 1x10

[mshermia]

hi!! your story if they knew all about you is great! and today is aiden’s birthday!! are you gonna post a little sneek peek to celebrate?

This is probably the best ask I have gotten so far!

I'm really happy to hear that you like "If They Knew All About You" and I'm thrilled you remembered Aiden's birthday! In an AU somewhere far faar away, Aiden Elliot Stark turns 18 today, woohoo!

Because I loved your ask so much, I added some extra words to the sneak peek from Chapter 80.

(Also... chapter 80... good god, how did this story get this long?!? 😅)

Hope you enjoy ;)

Tony frowned when somber voices echoed down the hallway coming from the direction of the common room that usually stayed unused now with most of the Avengers on the run or in prison. He shook his head, dispelling the thought. The room it turned out was empty minus no other than Natasha Romanoff lounging on the sofa in front of the TV. She had turned on a news channel where a roundtable discussion of the day's event was picking up steam.

She didn't look up at him when he stepped up next to her, focussed entirely on the programm while she fished a single potato chips out of the family-sized back sitting in her lap. "How's the kid?"

Tony swallowed hard, eyes on the screen. "What's happening?"

"Press conference. Any minute now," she said, popping another chip into her mouth. "You talk to him yet?"

With an annoyed little huff, he crossed his arms. "Why the sudden interest in my kid?"

"He called me."

"What?" His arms fell back to his side. There was no point in any pretense now as his eyes flashed over to her. That was impossible. She couldn't mean the kid. He had to be overreacting. "Who called you?"

Another chip muffled her response. "Pete."

Tony's blood ran cold, his body jerking in reflex. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"When you locked him in the penthouse." The crunch of another chip echoed through the room. "Asked me to break him out."

"He... he what? He fucking what?" The most infuriating part was that she didn't even look at him. He hadn't wanted to strangle her this much since-- Tony shook his head, fighting to keep his head on what was important. "Is that how... you fucking broke him out of—"

"Get a grip of yourself, Tony. I didn't do shit." The rustle of the bag as she fished out a whole handful of chips was like nails on a chalk board. "Was on the other side of town." Voice muffled even more, she shrugged, eyes still on the TV. Ever since Tony had walked in, it showed the same group of talking heads analyzing the events of the day.

The youngest dude of the bunch had his forehead pulled into a frown. "With Iron Man and Captain America back on the same side, shouldn't that give us something to think about?"

Tony shook his head, trying to concentrate. Pete had managed to trick FRIDAY somehow. If it hadn't been Natasha who helped him, Tony would just have to check with FRIDAY, check the footage, then make sure it could never happen again. As long as he couldn't trust the kid to listen to the rules, to just do what Tony told him to fucking do then—

Deep breaths. His eyes shot back to the TV as he heard his own name.

"Stark has been nothing but determined to answer the public's concerns in the recent weeks." The same talking-head held a pen in his hand, pretending to point at an important note on the pad in front of him. "He was the first one out of all of them to acknowledge the human cost the Avengers' missions have claimed not to speak of the property damage though even here Stark and his relief foundation have not just been helpful. They've been a virtual lifeline for some communities especially for the poorer neighborhoods who have suffered significantly as well."

"Oh, give me a break, Connor," the dude at the other end of the table groaned. "An eccentric billionaire is playing real life Call Of Duty on our street and you want to grovel at his feet and thank him for tidying up some of the mess that he is responsible for in the—"

"What the fuck are you doing, Nat?" His heart was throbbing in his chest, anger and annoyance making his blood boil.

"Watching the news."

"What news?" He gestured at the TV. "Since when do you care about what these idiots have to say?"

"Don't be cranky, Tony. Pretty sure, you're the one who made a racket about the people's trust." She squinted, looking back and forth between the two men on the screen who argued about whether Tony was humanity's saving grave or the devil in disguise. "Plus, I really want to know if they arrested Clarke yet."

#iron dad and spider son #if they knew all about you #irondad #irondad fic #sneak peek #Happy Birthday Aiden

[cetaceans-pls]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

On a quick mission with Jason to deal with pirates in the Caribbean, Bruce finds himself ejected overboard and accidentally lost at sea. Being a castaway gives Bruce ample time to indulge in self-discovery and survivorman-ing, as Jason boats across Pit-green waters in search of this dumb, fine man.

Or, things go incredibly wrong for Bruce and Jason while out at sea, but with help from a dedicated boat captain, The Fellowship Of The Rings, and banana-leaf-pants, they're actually unstoppable.

Written for the @batfam-big-bang​, beta’d by @kuraness​, @sultcnah​, and hassan, with art by @pikachica​, @succulents-and-fairy-lights​, and @mandolinplayer (thanks everyone)! Special shout-out to @setsailslash​ for being the wind beneath my wings.

And! Thanks to the mods for organising this massive, chaotic event c:

Please enjoy the first part of a story about a damp and determined Bat and the struggles a a dapper young man’s gotta face to save his dank ass dad 🙏

On tumblr below the cut c:

Pulling a disappearing act is something Bruce  should  be good at; he’s had years and years of practice by now sinking into the night. Keeping secrets is pretty important in being invisible too, which is why the files outlining the increasingly severe piracy problems in the Caribbean are so heavily encrypted they may as well not exist. After all, at any moment any of his children could be using the Batcomputer to do anything from figuring out how to topple a corrupt government remotely to buying an unreasonable number of chew toys for Ace, and given that they’re all so ridiculously nosy, a security breach is more a question of  when  rather than  if .

Nosiness is a good trait for vigilante detectives, but it makes it hard to work covertly without tipping anyone off. International travel isn’t a good idea for anyone this deep into a pandemic, and while Bruce Wayne being an ass and swanning around the Bahamas in a yacht is pretty believable as far as cover stories go, he’s not keen to subject anyone else to the sort of vitriol that behaviour will garner.

So the plan is simple, with as few moving parts as possible. Three, maybe four days tops being loud and visible on his biggest, ugliest yacht in the hopes that pirates will decide to come after him, and then maybe a couple of days after that to dismantle the bulk of the operation after he’s tracked them back to their base. There’s less of a chance of failure than his usual work, but it still leaves him feeling uneasy.

It’s a long way away from Gotham, and he’s not exactly excited to leave, but his comfort’s not more important than a greater good. The League really does need to sort out a presence for Central America though, and that goes on his notes for the mission too.

So he had planned in secrecy so complete not even Alfred was informed, because Alfred can be notoriously casual in his flagrant betrayal if he disagrees with Bruce’s plans. He’s skulking around the cave at 11 AM on a Tuesday when most of the family is either at work or asleep, and half an hour later he’s climbing into a Beemer, ready to roll out. He has a moment of smug certainty that he’s gotten away with this before the door to the passenger’s side is ripped open, and Jason climbs in with a little battered suitcase, a pair of aviators that reflect metallic blue, a genuinely heinous red wig, and what can only be described as a noxious Hawaiian shirt.

Bruce doesn’t think he’s ever seen a shade of yellow so bright, but it’s now imprinted on the back of his eyeballs, so that’s that.

“Jason, what are you doing?”

Bruce doesn’t even know if he’s referring to Jason’s presence, his outfit, or his hair (oh god, his  hair ).

“Tim was supposed to be the one to tail your ass on this mission, but he’s still way too concussed after last week’s fight with Clayface so he got pulled out.” Jason chucks his suitcase to the backseat and pulls his seatbelt on, still fastidious about traffic safety despite it all. “Then Dick wanted to sub in but Blüdhaven needs him more than you do right now. So they called in the big guns to look out for you, and when I get back everyone’s gonna owe me favours. Sounds like a damn good deal for a week of work.”

Favours are a currency way more important than cash within this family, but Bruce struggles to see how a few favours is worth a few days in the company of a man you loathe.

(All right,  loathe may be a bit dramatic, but it’s how Bruce feels about himself in reference to Jason, and it’s mind-boggling that a boy can wake up in a coffin and be driven to lunacy by the Pit and still, somehow, end up in this car with him in an ugly shirt and an offer of support).

He decides against asking if Jason’s really going to be all right floating in a sea of green in bad company, and doesn’t make Jason leave. It’s the rule of things; if he fails to out-sneak his children, he must deal with their demands, because it’s the only way he could get them to agree to his more paranoid measures in return.

So Bruce makes an effort not to think about it, in spite of himself, and gets the car in gear.

It really is looking like a damn good deal for a week of work; with good company, how badly can things go wrong?

-

Karma really wants to make him eat his words.

Years and years on the job, near-death experiences well past a hundred by now, active involvement in everything from petty theft to intergalactic peace missions, and it’s a little incredible that this is somehow the first time he’s been held at gunpoint while wearing the skimpiest pair of Speedos he could force up his thighs.

A billion dollars for a dressing gown, Bruce thinks but very carefully doesn’t say to the pirates who have commandeered the yacht. It’s all part of the plan, minus his questionable outfit.

Whoever’s manning the screens at the Cave is likely having a grand old laugh right now, but if it’s Stephanie he hopes she realises that he is using her trick with waterproof concealer and translucent powder to hide his scars, and it’s working like a charm. The Speedo was meant to feed the paparazzis that are currently stalking him in their little fishing boats that are weighed down with telephoto lenses, and L’Oreal 24 Hour Max Hold Extra Dewy Outlast! Long-Wearing Concealer makes him look happily whole from 40 yards.

He hadn’t expected the pirates to come on the  one day he had planned to parade in front of the paps, but luck is a lady and it looks like Bruce just will not be getting lucky tonight.

The leader of the gang is yelling at the captain, clearly assuming Bruce cannot speak Spanish and isn’t worth speaking to regardless, which is fair. The leader is also standing far, far too close for a man without a facemask in these sickly times, and Bruce makes a show of tripping over nothing and landing in between Pirate Captain and Captain Luis, building space in between them. Half a dozen vaccine trials down, he’s as close to confidently immune as he can be, so he just strikes an entirely embarrassing pose and grins up at Mr. Pirate. “Sorry, sorry, not every day you get hijacked. Listen, you,” he waves at the assembled gang of ne’er-do-wells, “take my stuff,” he waves to indicate every gaudy expensive thing not nailed down in this frankly ghastly ship, “and leave us alone, okay?”

It’s tempting fate to be extra loud and extra slow like he’s talking to somebody extra dumb, but eyes on him are eyes off civilians, so that’s what he does.

It’s the point of information-gathering with the entire force of his Bruce Wayne Billionaire Playboy personality after all, even if Jason hasn’t stopped mocking him relentlessly for his outfits and table manners and affect (and so on and so forth) every time he breaks into the Master Cabin to help cover up Bruce’s many, many back scars.

The Pirate Captain appears to not appreciate being spoken to like a concussed toddler, and backhands Bruce right across the cheek. Bruce dutifully sets his tooth in so that he gets a dramatically split lip, and tries to look suitably cowed as he wonders about the man’s hand hygiene. Where is Jason, anyways? The standard response in this situation would be to evacuate civilians to safety, and even if the captain is currently stuck with Bruce, hopefully the stewards and the cooks are being shown to the panic room. It’s only in doubt because it’s a Thursday, and Thursdays are Jimmy-the-steward-boy’s day off. What that means is that Jason is likely in his bunk listening to audiobooks while half-asleep, and if it’s the Lord of the Rings and Jason’s hit a particularly engaging part, they could be firing cannons on deck and he wouldn’t hear.

It’s still fine, probably. Jason’s good at showing up when you least expect him.

There’s enough pride and bull-headedness in Bruce’s veins that he still officially objects to having back-up whenever he follows a case abroad, but times like these it’s really hard to feel anything but grateful that his children don’t trust him not to get himself killed in suitably dramatic ways as soon as he leaves Gotham. It’s even easier to feel glad that he and Jason have gotten good enough with each other that laid up on the ground of his yacht with blood in his mouth, Bruce knows that everything’s going to be alright.

“Please,” he says, and his voice trills like a well-trained bird, “please don’t hurt me. I have so much money, if that’s what you want. Somebody just needs to call my PA, we can do a transfer right now.” Oh, good, the captain is slowly backing away while all eyes are on Bruce and his tiny swimwear.

Thank you, Stephanie, for recommending a concealer that doesn’t even smudge as he dramatically cowers on the ground. The captain’s taken shelter behind the big outdoor dining table, a sturdy, immovable beast made of aluminium, and Bruce has a semi-circle of reasonably menacing men he could potentially incapacitate without  definitely dying. Things are looking up already.

Pirate Captain (Pirate King? Pirate Lord? Pirate Admiral? Who knows how a hierarchy works for the lawless, after all) is barking orders for one of his men to handcuff Bruce and move him over to their boat, because this is now a kidnapping-for-ransom situation. In casual dress, Bruce wouldn’t have minded it much; there’s enough untraceable kit in his average pair of slacks to get him out of most situations.

Again, the cursed Speedos are hugely, disproportionately problematic despite their actual size. At least there’s the tracker and the lockpicks in his watch, because thankfully no one questions why a rich man who is mostly nude would be decked out in a fantastically expensive watch.

A gangly boy who can’t possibly be much older than 20 hauls him to his feet and starts to tie his hands behind his back, which is fine. The boy also deftly unbuckles Bruce’s watch and sleight-of-hands it away, presumably into the pocket of his beaten up jeans, and that is decidedly less fine. Still, as long as the tracker remains in his vicinity, it won’t take much effort for him to be found.

Things are still on track, even if they’ve gone off the rails an alarming number of times since he woke up this morning and nicked his face while shaving for the first time in, oh, a decade? More? Hopefully there’ll be a sack or something he can fashion into a tunic on the pirate boat; he doesn’t imagine this entire ordeal will outlast his long-lasting concealer, and given that the yacht’s currently bobbing in the ocean somewhere between Nassau and Port-au-Prince, help’s not far away (so long as Jason has also called the Coast Guard and is not still in his bunk, listening to Gandalf telling an overlong story).

It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine, until it’s not.

Honestly, Bruce takes worker well-being very seriously, whether it’s the COO of the Hong Kong branch of WE or the tired cab driver who inadvertently helped the Bat on an undercover case at 3:30 AM one morning. Fair pay, fair working conditions, every benefit that’s the industry standard and a few that he secretly encouraged the unions to demand. It’s a point of pride that people who work for him enjoy it, and it’s a way Bruce Wayne can help people in a way that Batman can’t even dream of.

It’s important that people who work for him are treated well; them becoming a little protective over him when some journo gets particularly nasty on Twitter is frankly rather sweet.

It’s significantly Less Okay that when they meet him in real life, ‘a little protective’ becomes ‘Captain Luis, seeing his bumbling dim-witted but ultimately not a bad guy boss getting carted away by pirates, finds strength from deep within himself to pick up a chair, start screaming, and try to bumrush half a dozen heavily armed men’.

Time slows down in times of crisis, thank god. Jason’s still nowhere to be seen, and reality narrows to Bruce running through every possible thing he could conceivably do to keep Luis safe. In the first fraction of a second, a trademark Bruce Wayne clumsy stumble is discarded as an option; two of the pirates already have their guns up. He doesn’t have smoke bombs or stun grenades or any of his million gadgets, and his hands are tied (literally  and  metaphorically), but playing dumb and letting Luis get shot to preserve his identity doesn’t even feature as an option.

And so, half a second after Luis starts his war cry, cracked voice and all, Bruce is actively working to dislocate his thumb to get out of his bindings, weight tipped forward in the hope that he can body slam half the men to the ground before they can get to their guns.

It doesn’t work; he gets shot in place of Luis, what feels like a clean through-and-through by the hip that  hopefully  missed anything particularly important. He does manage to bring a couple of the men nearest to him down with a heavy  whumph , and little victories are still worth savouring even while lightly bleeding out on the ground.

He hears a lot of shouting, both from the direction of the pirate boat (reinforcements?) and from the grand double doors that lead to the inside dining room (reinforcements!) but he just keeps moving. Best case scenario, Luis knocked somebody out with one of the absolutely hideous chrome-and-leather chairs before beating a hasty retreat, and now Jason’s tag-teaming in for clean up.

Worst case scenario, he and Luis are about to be killed, and the news might be broken to his family by unflattering pap shots gone viral on Facebook. It’s an unbearable thought, so he doesn’t think, and just keeps moving around like an angry bull intent on sharing his displeasure.

There are a lot of gunshots, and something clips his ear as he knocks another man to the floor. While the pirate groans, Bruce headbutts him unconscious with a helping hand from the metal plates that help hold his skull in one piece. He thinks he hears Jason’s voice, but he knows Jay’s there for  sure  because no other weapon on Earth seems to crack the air quite like his Jerichos, and it’s like light at the end of a tunnel.

He hopes that Jason’s wearing some manner of face-covering; Bruce Wayne smashing a bunch of skinny pirates to the ground in a feat of great clumsiness and luck is entertaining enough to be acceptable, but a master marksman taking out a horde of sea-faring villains isn’t as likely to come off as normal.

Bruce doesn’t have the breathing room to turn around and check because more pirates are scrambling aboard with their own weight in weaponry, even if in his mind’s eye he imagines that Jason is wearing a pillowcase on his head with holes shot out for the eyes.

What an absurd quantity of guns. The number of ways Bruce hates the damned things is uncountable, and if Jason is actually on deck yelling blue murder in pyjamas, things can tip over from ‘scuffle’ into ‘bloodbath’ real damn quick.

Only one thing for it, then. He rolls away from a well-aimed kick and staggers to his feet, keeping his hands behind his back even though he’s worked his way free already. Pirate Captain man is angrily waving his rifle like he’s never known a day of joy in his life, but shooting Bruce might break the streak.

“Stop, stop!” Bruce shouts, aiming to look as non-threatening as a man who has mowed down a series of pirates can. “You can take me, just don’t hurt my staff.”  Stand down, Jason  , is implicit, while  stand down, Luis , is implored.

It’s enough to get the man to bark for his men to stop shooting, as he tries to grab Bruce by the throat in a presumably threatening manner. This is what you get for modern-day piracy where there’s a lot less rigging and ropes and a lot more outboard engines; his grip strength is laughable, but Bruce gamely pretends to struggle to breathe anyway.

Pirate Captain hauls Bruce towards the cluster of his men, looking smug before he turns Bruce to let him see the wreckage of the outdoor lounge of the yacht. It’s bullet-riddled and messed up, but this far from the engine and the bridge, the damage is almost exclusively cosmetic. Thankfully Luis seems relatively whole even if he’s got the remains of a chair leg in his hands and a snarl twisting his face, and so does Jason. No pillowcase head-covering, unfortunately, but his steward-boy curly ginger wig is on and his oversized sleeping t-shirt is bulked out in a suspiciously bulletproof-vest shaped mass (thank God).

There are headphones hanging around Jay’s neck, so Bruce assumes he’d gotten it right about the morning lie-in and audiobook listening. Even mid-emergency, it’s still a rare, nice feeling to see that he knows Jason well enough to guess at least this correctly. Bruce tries to communicate with his eyes that everyone just needs to calm down and let him be taken. Pirates don’t tend to shoot billionaires dead, what with the invisible hand of the free market ensuring trigger discipline and all that, so it’s fine. They can rescue him afterwards, and there’s always help to be had. Superman might be off-world at present and Aquaman might take his own sweet time because he’s a sea king moonlighting as a massive asshole, but as long as no one gets hurt badly, a delay doesn’t matter to Bruce.

Jason’s scowling, but he does point his guns down. There’s hope yet that this is going to end relatively bloodlessly, but then the Pirate Captain lets his little victory get to his head. He’s got Bruce in an ineffective chokehold, and now he’s chuckling and waving his gun around and telling Jason that  you’re not so confident now that we’ve got your boss, huh?

Even at a distance, Bruce can see that Jason is just barely holding on to his temper, jaw tight and teeth clenched. Having close to a foot over his captor and a hell of a lot of muscle mass on top, the ‘chokehold’ registers more like a messy cuddle, so it’s fine.

It’s all fine.

Until, of course, it isn’t.

Because Pirate Captain isn’t completely done flexing, because he takes it into his head to further press his advantage and slam the point home, he holds the muzzle of his rifle to Bruce’s temple, and shouts  bang!

And  of course  Bruce has been held hostage before, of course he’s had weapons brandished in front of his face, of course there’s nothing exceptionally terrible about this situation when compared to the dozens of exceptionally terrible situations he’s been stuck in.

It’s just that he’s always, always hated guns, and he particularly hates guns held to people’s heads (a goddamn mystery why), and it’s just a little beyond what he considers tolerable, to find himself on the other side of a situation where a parent is about to be shot in the head in front of their child.

It’s something he’ll be ashamed about for the rest of forever, but hindsight’s 20/20 and not even an iron will could stop the tiniest of flinches when the thought of  Jason’s going to have to see me die and he isn’t even the one pulling the trigger goes through his head at great speed.

It’s a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment, but Jason hadn’t blinked, and it’s just that inch too far.

Lord, if Luis had been fearsome before, then Jason picking up a steak knife from the dining table and throwing it so viciously, so hatefully that it goes right through the back of a pirate man’s hand is an absolute vision of terror. While Bruce gets the side of his face coated in blood (he’s pessimistically hoping it isn’t from an arterial flow), Jason is scooping up Luis and chucking him overboard. It feels like barely a second has passed from when the first splatter of blood had hit his cheek before Jason appears right in front of him, one hand holding both guns (cool-looking but hilariously ill-advised) while the other is wrapped around the bulky plastic case of the emergency life raft.

Someone tries to drag Bruce back, and the man is met with two gun butts to the nose with a resounding  crack! . A moment after that and Jason has Bruce pulled behind him, wig askew and kicking a different man right in the family jewels. The Pirate Captain is screaming and waving at them even as Jason hustles Bruce towards one side of the ship, shoving a life jacket down over his head and tightening the straps before Bruce can get his hands through the armholes.

It is, clearly, on purpose. “Jason,” Bruce warns him, growling even as he keeps the name as quiet as he can. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jason kicks a stack of sun loungers over to act as a barricade against the approaching pirates, but he’s completely unharried as he turns to look at Bruce. “B, you’re banged up to fuck and back, and these guys are just massive assholes who’ve been pillaging ships carrying aid during a goddamn pandemic. Your plan’s not working out, so I’m going to handle it  my  way. Just go hang out in the water for a while, okay,” Jason pauses and shoots over the top of the mass of wood, before ducking down to reload. “On God, I’ll swab the decks clean-ish before I pull you back up. That’s my plan.”

An errant chair arm by Jason’s side explodes into splinters from the return fire, and it’s getting really hard to avoid kill shots in order to have a civil conversation. They’re running out of time, and Bruce  knows , knows without a shadow of a single doubt that this is restraint and thoughtfulness and care from Jason, to hold back on what he thinks is right just because he knows Bruce doesn’t like to see a case devolve into death. There’s also a chance that the gun to his head shook both of them up more than they want to admit. This could well be a really touching moment for everyone involved.

But a dozen pirates are advancing, and more than wanting to stop Jason from murdering a bunch of people, Bruce simply  refuses  to let him face this alone, so he just shakes his head and starts trying to work his way out of the vest.

Unfortunately, it’s at about the same time the pirates decide to go on an all-out siege, running towards them and knocking the stack of chairs over in their haste. Bruce doesn’t have time to think, just steps forward so that he can body block Jason and hope that polyethylene foam can take a shot or 12.

Jason disagrees with this course of action, and he makes it exceedingly clear. One moment Bruce is standing firm between his son and almost-certain death, and the next he finds himself being flung over the side of the yacht, Jason executing a frankly gorgeous Judo throw. A blob of bright orange follows him down, the instant raft deploying in midair.

“Fly, you fucking fool!” Jason screams at him, and Bruce’s last thought before he hits the water and the hard outer shell of the raft hits him in the head, is that he was right.

Jason  had been listening to the Lord of the Rings.

(And Bruce is really regretting leaving the Shire).

-

It’s going to be a hell of a story to tell the gang; hijinx on the high seas, and if Jason can convince Bruce to take a picture of him looking suitably pensive while the sea breeze flutters his hair and open shirt, they’ll have a cover for the book deal that inevitably follows Jimmy the Red-Haired Steward’s dramatic rescue of literal billionaire Bruce Wayne.

It’s almost anti-climactic in the end; he sends Bruce overboard and is polite enough to chuck a raft down with him so that the man won’t have to find out that not even Steph’s go-to brand of makeup can stand up to the open ocean, and minus an overbearing parent idiotically trying to take bullets for him, Jason’s free to just go right the hell off.

By his count, there must be close to 20 pirates now, and just one of him.

Damn, what fun odds. He knocks out 4 guys the moment they pass his barricade, and they definitely won’t be dying from those wounds. There’s a slightly messier kerfuffle when he kicks a tabletop off its legs and flings it at the guy who thought setting off a rocket-launcher in a luxury yacht is a good idea, and casualties from  that are self-inflicted, so there’s no sweating it.

A half hour of screaming and shooting later, and at this point he’s just showing off when he leaps off the upper deck and gets a trick shot out into the knee of the man with the biggest rifle. At the end of it there’s a lot of moaning and groaning on the ground, there’s blood everywhere, and barring rocket-man, the Pirate Captain’s still the worst off because a serrated steak knife thrown at high speed will do a number on anyone. It’s  exactly what he deserves.

Jason putters about securing the pirates with fishing line, and shoves handkerchiefs into the deeper wounds as he does a headcount and takes deep pride in having not killed anyone even though his temper’s the most frayed it’s been in a while (his history with bodies of water is bad and his track record with parental figures is even worse).

He leaves the captain tied up on the sun deck, because a sunburn’s the least the man deserves after holding a gun to Bruce’s head and being so proud of it. If Jason had trod on his hand a little heavily on his way off the deck, well. Some lessons just need to be worked in with some elbow grease.

Cleaning takes a while because B can be so damn picky about  appearances , and it’s easier to do without the man himself anyways, so he doesn’t think twice about leaving Bruce to sulk in his floating inflatable tent while Jason works. When he hears noises from the pirate ship while he’s going around disarming all the weapons, he ends up finding a gaggle of kidnapped fishermen stuffed in the hold, and he wants to go step on the Pirate Captain’s hand all over again.

He frees the fishermen and moves them onto the yacht, where the staff who have crept out of the panic room with knives in their hands and murder in their hearts welcome the poor fucks and make them something hot to eat. Really, being a crusader’s a lot easier without Bruce’s presence, and it’s like a victory lap at this point. No one’s dead, even more people have been rescued than when they started, and the Coast Guard should be rolling in any minute.

Jason  cannot wait to show off to B just how damn good he is at his job.

Everything wrapped up and a dozen shoulder-slaps from the crewmembers later, Jason makes his way down to the back of the yacht, where a platform can be lowered and the canoes and jet skis can be set out in the water. He’s fully expecting to see Luis hanging on to the ladder near there, with Bruce tethered like an errant puppy. Jason’s already grinning as the platform swings open with a quiet splash, but the sight that greets him isn’t one for smug eyes.

Luis is there, looking a little cold but ultimately quite calm and relaxed, and smiles when he sees him. “Jimmy!” Luis calls out, hauling himself up onto the platform and taking his shirt off to wring it dry. “You crazy bastard. I’m glad you’re okay! Is Mister Bruce also all right? The pirates are gone?” He eyes the bobbing pirate ship with great distrust, and overall gives the impression of a man ready to pick up a kayak oar and go to war.

Jason’s leaning as far off the platform as he can, craning his neck to try and see the bright orange floating raft. “Pirates are taken care of,” he tells Luis, and doesn’t let his unease show. “Everyone’s fine, but I threw Mister Bruce off the boat too, with the little tent raft. Did you not see him, captain?”

Luis shakes his head. “You must have thrown him overboard on the other side, Jimmy.” He turns a frightful shade of pale, and leans back out the yacht to help look. “Can Mister Bruce swim?”

Everyone in the family is an accomplished swimmer; for reasons that probably only make sense when you’re a paranoid patriarch, all of them had to prove that they could swim a mile in full gear before they were okayed to patrol close to the waterfront. It’s also common knowledge in a family with a collective competitive streak a mile wide that Bruce once rescued 3 full-grown adults in the open ocean while fully kitted out, so yeah.

“Yeah, he can swim.”

So why in the hell is he not right here?

Jason takes a deep breath, and reminds himself Bruce  always has a tracker on him somewhere, so even if he was carried away by the waves, actually locating him shouldn’t be an issue. What’s more likely to be a pain in the ass is the Coast Guard boats plowing through the sea towards them. Jason’s cover as a steward is enough to fool local police, but if he’s pulled in for questioning re: owning and using his guns, it’s going to become A Problem.

A problem that would take a lot of time to handle, and that’s not something Jason’s got in spades if Bruce is missing.

Ah, shit. He’s going to have to call this in, and that’s not going to be possible in an itchy wig on a ship crawling with officers. It’s time for Jimmy to disappear, looks like.

He considers his options, and decides to just go with his gut. Luis seems like a good guy; civilians who step up in a life-or-death situation despite common sense telling them not to usually are. And compared to B, Jason’s always been quicker to trust, anyways.

“Listen, Luis,” he tells the man, face serious. “I’m actually Mister Bruce’s bodyguard. If he’s missing or drowning, I have to go find him. He’s…. like family.” Thank God that no one else is here to hear this. “But if the Coast Guard comes and takes us all in for questioning, I can’t start looking for him. Can you tell them I jumped in the sea after Mister Bruce, and to send people out to find us? I need to grab the tender and sneak off first; he’s been in the water for a while already now, so I just don’t have time to wait.”

Everything is  probably completely fine, but you don’t live and then die and then be reborn and then continue to live as a successful vigilante by hanging your hat on ‘probably’. Jason’s itching to get on the little tender and check in with Alfred, but Luis covering for him would be really fucking helpful.

It feels real good when his instincts pay off. Luis doesn’t even bother saying ‘Yes’ and ‘Of course’; he’s already striding to the little box by the light switch that has the keys for all the gear, and after a quick rummage around he throws the boat’s keys to Jason.

“I’m going to believe you, Jimmy. Go find Mister Bruce, and I will tell the police how you saved us and why you left. Do you need anything more?”

Luis is just hitting homerun after homerun today, wow. Jason grins, and shakes his head. “I’m going to get my stuff from my bunk and climb out the porthole in the kitchen right onto the boat. See you when I see you, captain.”

And Jason’s gone.

-

Bruce comes to a couple of hours after his inauspicious disembarkation, if he’s judging the sun right. His face is an achy sunburned mess, but he supposes it’s preferable to being unconscious while facedown in water. He regains consciousness quietly and calmly, an extremely important skill when you are regularly abducted and knocked out, but when he cracks his eye open all he sees is the sea, all all of it.

He takes stock of the situation, and notes with some resignation that his yacht (the Pretty Penny, and worth every cent for the look on Alfred’s face) is nowhere in goddamn sight. He’s still cocooned in a life jacket, but luckily a loose buckle had wrapped around the ropes lining the life raft. It takes a bit of finessing, to work his way free and then haul himself up into the raft when he’s disorientated from being sunburned and injured and groggy, but he manages eventually.

The raft had managed to inflate all the way up, and the little tent provided blessed, blessed shade. If he was marooned on a liferaft with his children, or with a civilian, Bruce would be all action by now, cataloguing injuries and rummaging around to find what equipment they have. That’s just the exact right thing to do, in a survival situation.

But he isn’t marooned on a liferaft with anybody else. He’s by himself, his face feels like it’s on fire, he’s a little concussed, and he doesn’t know if everyone’s safe on the yacht. Instead of doing something meaningful, Bruce just groans and lays out as flat as he can get on the small raft, with his legs hanging off over the side.

Might as well get sunburnt knees, make a set of it.

It’s starting to feel like he’s just not meant to have a casual fun time out here in the Caribbean, and this far away from shore, nobody can hear him swear.

His legs are starting to sizzle a little by the time Bruce re-finds his will to survive, and he eventually drags himself upright, looks down to once again despair that he’s literally in swimwear and nothing else, and tugs out the dry bag filled with survival equipment tucked into a pocket near the back of the tent. He’s sure it’ll have much more kit than the average equipment bag, but because he can’t remember the last time he took it into his head to pack survival kits for non-Bat vehicles, everything is likely several years out of date.

As he digs around, any hope of finding a tracker that can  ping! loud enough to alert the Batcave disappears. There’s a brick of a satellite phone, but failure to keep it well-maintained means the battery is completely flat, and trying to fix it in a bobbing liferaft that’s constantly letting water in…. ill-advised.

At least being in the Caribbean in the summer means that the current is more likely to have him drifting across the archipelago instead of sweeping him out to the Atlantic. Deserted islands are a dime a dozen here, and Bruce shudders at the thought that he might meet his end here, where it’s warm and sunny and beautiful, instead of bleeding out into a puddle of what might be rainwater or piss or both in a dark alley in Gotham, which is what he thematically deserves.

If only Alfred were here to hear him loudly think about his death after maybe 3 hours of being at sea with his own grim thoughts.

At least the kit bag reflects his personal preferences. Enough energy bars to keep a man physically functioning for at least 2 weeks, and half of them are white-chocolate-and-cranberry flavoured. There’s a rain poncho made of the same material his cape was about 5 years ago, which means it’s light and breathable and incredibly strong. He puts it on, because where Jason presumably gets power from wearing either leather or garish beachwear, Bruce unfortunately counts himself closer to goth than not, and a black raincoat is enough to make him feel at least marginally better.

He digs around some more and finds the usual suspects: a multi-tool with a blade sharp enough to gut a camel (tried! And tested!), 3 flare guns, a little floating solar still, a first aid kit that could keep you alive through increasingly alarming injuries, wax matches and some solid fuel, and a little tin mug that had some fishing line and a bunch of hooks. God, there’s even sun cream in here, and that’s as Classic Alfred as the tiny glass bottle of exquisite whiskey. The reach of one elderly butler’s tender loving care extends really alarmingly far, and Bruce salutes the sky in his honour before taking a carefully-rationed glug of Stranahan for moral support.

It burns smoothly down his throat, and it’s as close to a second wind as Bruce is likely to get out here. Bruce sets up the solar still and has it floating on a tether right by the raft, even if he’s got at best a couple of hours of daylight left. Dinner for the night is either a protein bar or fresh-caught fish if he can swing it, and the bottle of good whiskey needs to stretch for 2 weeks for the worst case survival scenario, because that’s around when Superman comes back from his off-world mission and can come play fetch.

Best case scenario, Jason’s going to pull up in the BatWing any moment now, and Bruce will gaze upon a hideous ginger wig and once again get to marvel at the miracle of Jason alive and coming at him.

The Batman hasn’t survived so long off the backs of best case scenarios though. Fantasy revelled in, Bruce starts divvying up his resources and makes his peace with potentially having his body be found in a poncho 3 months from now by deeply unlucky fishermen.

Hell of a legacy to leave for his children, but it’s better than pearls and a dark alleyway (he sure would have appreciated a larger bottle of whiskey).

-

Escape was the name of the game, so Jason doesn’t burn time on thinking, just grabs his supplies and steals the tender, gunning the engine and gone out of sight before the Coast Guard could board the Penny. It’s pretty hair-raising, literally; throttle opened to full he almost loses his wig to the whipping winds.

Fifteen minutes after separating from Captain Luis, Jason’s dropping anchor in a tiny lagoon and pulling out his Bat-issued laptop. First things first, he runs through all the trackers Bruce is most likely to have on him. No point in alerting HQ if Bruce just got washed ashore on a little beach a couple of miles away. He could do without the rest of the family calling him out for simultaneously being both Bruce’s back-up as well as the main reason Bruce is currently missing, thanks. There’s already plenty of self-recrimination going ‘round.

The internet’s pretty slow considering the private BatSatellite beaming it right down at him, but it only takes a few minutes before he’s run through the checklist of the dozen or so standard trackers Bruce could have chosen from. Almost everything is deactivated, probably because a mother-of-pearl button and a tie clip aren’t options that mesh with swimwear too often, but one of his watches is active and blinking a cheerful green from the other side of the island, moving swiftly towards land.

Jason thinks  hell yeah!  at the start but then logic comes a-calling; neither the current nor a very determined man could move that quickly, and the blip is moving in a straight line away from the yacht. He takes another look at the list, and groans when he realises that what likely happened was that Bruce’s shiny golden Rolex was liberated from him pre-getting-thrown-overboard, and is now likely enjoying a pleasant ride to Nassau in the pocket of some pirate on the Coast Guard’s ship.

“This is why I told him to get a goddamn belly button ring,” Jason shouts down at an errant starfish, who fundamentally does not care. Garish intimate jewelry work because they can stay on regardless of the state of undress, and because not even the most determined thugs tend to be super interested about groping around a man’s navel to get half an ounce of cheap tin and silver. An ugly piercing is  by far  the best option for discreet trackers.

Just classic goddamn Bruce; too good for gun violence, too good for tacky piercings, too good to just stay the hell still. Jason half-heartedly goes through the rest of the list, on the extremely off chance that Bruce slapped on the temporary tramp stamp with its special magnetic ink, or decided to opt for the cute anklet with dangling shells that’s a Cass design, but no go.

There’s not a blip anywhere, and if Bruce is really  really lost at sea, time’s not something either of them have a whole lot of. Jason starts up the boat and decides to head right to the outermost chain of tiny islands, because the vital thing here is making sure that Bruce doesn’t get swept right out into the open ocean. One hand on the wheel, with the other he pops an earphone back in and presses a complicated code using the volume up/down buttons. It’s another few seconds of the Fellowship coming through before the comm connects, and it’s Alfred.

“How can I help, Master Jason?”

“How much of what went down did you catch, Agent A?”

“I must confess to a little chuckle when I saw Master Bruce being thrown overboard. The onboard cameras caught the rest of your fight, and may I just say, splendid aim with the steak knife. I doubt I could have done better myself.”

That’s a blatant lie if Jason’s ever heard one, but he’ll take it. “Thanks, Alfie. Thing is, uh. Thing is, I might have misplaced B.”

There’s a short pause, and Alfred’s voice comes back on with polite inquiry. “What do you mean by ‘misplaced’, Master Jason?”

“You saw me chuck B over and leave him a life raft, right? Yeah, well, when I went ‘round to do a pick-up, he was gone.  And he doesn’t have any kit on him, so.” Urgh, this is going to live on in infamy. “So I might have lost Batman somewhere in the sea.”

There’s another pause, a little longer this time, filled with enough character that Jason can just imagine Alfred with his head tipped back, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to chase off a headache that has given him no peace presumably since B was born. “I see. Do you know if he is injured? Or if Master Bruce is missing as per some sort of plan?”

“Think he might have been grazed by a couple of bullets, but nothing life-threatening. And this  could  be a dick move that’s part of a bigger plan, Alfred, but he knows you’d be  real passive-aggressive if he runs off without telling anyone. He pulls that kind of bullshit when things are apocalyptic, but it’s just a bunch of pirates not social-distancing.” Jason worries at his lower lip, and tries to feel more confident about the absence of serious injuries. “I don’t know, maybe he hit the water wrong and passed out and got swept out, or something. I just know I’m not leaving this as is.”

God literally save B if this does turn out to be some dumbfuck ploy to go off and Rambo a mission solo, that’s a Jason Todd guarantee right there.

“I believe not trusting Master Bruce to be all right is generally the right way of thinking, unfortunately.” Alfred sighs, and it comes off as static in the earpiece. “I will make some inquiries, and see what resources we have for a search and rescue mission. In the meantime, Master Jason, do what you think is best. Master Bruce may not have any of his usual equipment, but so long as he has the raft, he should survive for a good long while.”

Knowing how extremely over-prepared Bruce is in almost every aspect of his life, Jason wouldn’t be too surprised to know that all WE rafts came prepared with spear guns and a bar of solid gold. Best case scenario, he’ll find Bruce in time for dinner, and they can have an(other) awkward meal where Bruce does his damnedest to be inoffensive and haltingly the best father he can be, while Jason tries not to get ticked off by every third word out of the man’s mouth.

Jason tells Alfred that he’s going to whip out some maps and do a lap around all the tiny little cays that dot the sea to try and find Bruce, and half his head’s thinking about a memorial service where Clark will presumably burst into tears while stood in front of a casket that’s got a symbolic Speedo in it, and that’s how Bruce is going to go down in history, which is what he deserves.

The other half decides that now is a good time to remember how Bruce had once gone all-out on a search-and-rescue mission for Jason too, many many years ago, and oh, look how  that turned out.

What a fucking feast or famine man.

-

Fishing is an accursed activity for accursed men. Bruce is somebody whose hobby slash raison d’etre involves getting dressed up in armour and perching on a gargoyle somewhere high up in an unmoving manner for hours at a time, and he  still finds himself bored almost to tears by the lows and lowers of idly holding a fishing line in his hand, being convinced something has gotten hooked, and pulling up absolutely nothing (again and again and again).

It’s blissfully sundown by now and there’s no fresh fish on the menu, but he has a mouthful of fresh water thanks to the solar still, and he’s got half a protein bar in him for dinner. The moon’s nowhere near full and the stars are obscured; he’s completely enveloped in the kind of darkness that’s so, so foreign to a city like Gotham.

It’s all blackness as far as the eye can see, which is not very far, and all he has for company are his thoughts and the quiet  splish splish splish  of little waves pattering against the side of his raft.

It’s deeply unnerving even for Bruce, a man who has on occasion described himself as The Night. He has a fire starter and nothing to start a fire; he has a phone and no way to connect to anyone. He has a lot and very little all at once, and despite his best efforts, no amount of focus can get anything  done .

So Bruce sits with his back to the opening of the little tent, and over the next couple of hours finds himself slumping and sliding lower, til his head is thrown back across the edge and all he sees is nothing.

Stoicism in the face of terrible odds is an important part of being the Batman, but Bruce has no cowl and no cape; he’s just him right now. As he stares at what may or may not be the North Star, he finds himself thinking about how dinner was supposed to be scallops and baked fish with a side of exquisite wine, and gently mourns just a little. If his luck held, Jason would have swung by later to help himself to the dessert tray that Bruce has delivered straight to his room, and he could have sat there and basked in the unending pleasure of Jay's healthy and hearty and whole company.

Instead, he’s stuck out at sea trying to guess how close or far away he is from 10:47 PM, which is the default time to throw up a signal in cases where a team’s been broken up. In Gotham, even if he didn’t have a watch or a phone or a comm unit or a car, he could usually guess the time down to 15 minutes, just based on which shops were open and which shops were closed, what buses were running and what colour the WE building was lit up to, by the presence or absence of the tinkly elevator music that accompanies the fountain light show in the main plaza.

Here, there’s nothing. The position of the planets would be a bit of a hint on a good day, but on a bad day with heavy clouds and a concussion he’s not confident Venus is real. The outdoors are a mistake, and laid out in a raft miles and miles away from the nearest cityscape Bruce feels homesickness so keenly he has to turn over and throw up a little bit.

At least the concussion is keeping him company.

The first hour after nightfall he had taken the initiative to just sit there and count time out, but there’s something spectacularly soul-sucking about counting down seconds. Bruce was somewhere in the 3000s when he came to the conclusion that he would rather not reinforce his concept of mortality by literally calling out each moment he comes closer to death, thanks. It’s been a while since he stopped counting, but time’s a mess in the absence of manmade context.

He’s also, shamefully, a mess in the absence of manmade context.

Bruce has 3 flares and a son out there somewhere looking for him. Having a predetermined time to launch a signal is not a fundamentally bad idea, but it’s not practical when out in the field, and right now he’s even willing to go so far so as to admit that using the time of his parents’ passing is both extremely grim and extremely unkind to all parties involved.

All factors considered, it’s as good a time as any to get the flare gun. If he’s lucky, Jason will be ‘round to pick him up in under an hour. If he’s less lucky, it might be a different band of roving pirates that come for him, though by this point the company of sun-dried criminals is greatly preferable to just his own.

If he’s really,  really  unlucky, the flare’ll explode big and bright up in the sky to the attention of absolutely no one, and when that happens Bruce can begin to doubt his reality as much as he doubts Venus’.

“Please let it not be 10:47,” he says in the vain hope that karma’s looking out for him as he sticks his upper body out the tent flaps and shoots at the sky.

The flare goes up straight and true and explodes into bright bright light, and all of this would be a thing to be happy about if the presence of light didn’t highlight the clear, helpless absence of everything else.

For the first time in a very long time, the fearsome big bad Bat of Gotham turns in early for the night, but nobody is even around to appreciate it.

(He will find out that it was, in fact, just around 9 when he shot off the flare, or just about 3000 seconds after the 3000 seconds he’d already counted.)

(The invention of time was a Mistake.)

[1/2]

#batfam big bang 2020 #batman #bruce wayne #jason todd #whale writing #the vibe is v much that specific kind of humid depressed u get in summer #when ur not feeling great but #the overwhelming presence of the sun tells your body to #keep on keeping on #anyways i love the sea thanks for coming to my community tedtalk

[tired-college-student-writing]

Tim’s Secret Weapon Pt. 4

I’ve been slightly obsessed with @ozmav​ ‘s Damian Wayne/Marinette Dupain-Cheng pairing as of late, and just saw a post that has inspired me more than anything else has in months, so I felt the need to write it

Summary- Tim has always seen the numbers floating above people’s heads, been able to perceive their threat levels with a single glance. After being a hero for so long he thought he was desensitized to seeing high numbers above people’s heads until Damian brings a new friend home.

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4 (HERE)

Part 5

_______________________________________________________________________

“Yup!” Jason popped the ‘p’ before holding up the book Tim had given him, “Who’s ready for storytime?” 

“What do you mean Tim is afraid I would throw him out?” Bruce pushed even as Jason led them towards one of the desks, “I want to help him with-”

“Yeah I’m gonna stop you there,” Jason cut him off, eyes hard as he set the book down with an uncharacteristic amount of care,“Tim was very offended by what we thought was going on with him and it just made him more sure that all of us were going to leave him behind as his shitty parents did. So let’s just cut to the chase and cool off before he seriously decides to run off before we can go talk to him because I’m pretty sure even after talking to him for twenty minutes, he’s still around seventy-five percent sure that’s going to be a better option than waiting around.” 

Jason had never seen the energy of a room shift so fast, the anger and bloodlust that had been suffocating since Dick uncovered the file on Marinette vanished into a deep rippling uncertainty. If there was one unspoken rule of the household, it was that no previous trauma will knowingly be replicated. It’s why Jason always makes a point of leaving his guns in the cave and never points them passed Bruce unless it’s life or death. Why no one touched the trapeze unless Dick was going up with them and they always used a net, no matter how good their aerial skills were. Why no one spoke to Jason in angry or stern Arabic. No one told Damian he was overreacting, especially when it was about illness or injuries. 

No one was allowed to make Tim think they were abandoning him.   

Dick looked stricken at the very idea, “Jay, why is Tim so scared?” 

“Short answer? Tim’s Meta.” 

The whole room froze, eyes flying wide, making Jason chuckle, “Yeah that was my response to.”

“How long?” Bruce asked, hand gripping the back of his chair so hard, Jason wondered if he was going to break it. 

“From what he said, he was born with his power, it’s always on and pretty impossible for him to block out.”

Damian’s face scrunched, “And father always made it clear that he doesn’t like Metas in Gotham.”  

“Fuck,” Dick swore, turning to punch the cave wall, “How the actual shit did we miss this? We’re fucking detectives goddamn it!” 

Seeing Dick lose it like that made Jason pause. It was rare to see the carefree brother truly get mad about anything, let alone for him to cuss up a storm, he always did prefer those filler cusses that make the rest of them groan. 

But then again Damian looked pained and Bruce was sinking into the Bat-computer chair looking lost as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I never meant it like this,” Bruce whispered, “I just didn’t want anyone else coming to Gotham expecting to be able to fix it overnight. Did I really come off anti-meta?” 

“I…” Jason winced, stopping to think, “I never thought so, but I can see how Tim thought you might be. We all need to talk to him, but I promised I’d explain some of this shit like Tim did to me, and look through his book so that we don’t all bombard him with questions.” 

The four shared a look before they all surrounded the table as Jason began. He told them of the numbers, the skill Tim had that he never shared. After they opened the book they found that it was more complex than just that. 

The entries started off very rudimentary, clearly written by a small child, the dates claiming that Tim began this journal when he was merely six years old. They detailed the color, font, and number of the person he had met. A few of the higher ranks having little ideas next to them on the cause, but as the list grew and the handwriting even outed, there were itemized lists on the reason for each number above a 5. 

By the time they reached Bruce’s they were pretty dumbfounded as they read through Tim’s confusion and fear at the number that broke the code he’d knew through his whole life, his reason section was filled with sentences of ideas, instead of the short bullet points, trying to ration it out. 

The most confusing part of it was he ruled things out that he couldn’t have known, insider trading and corruption would have been a logical conclusion for him to draw of the Billionaire he knew nothing about but he ruled them out instantly, not even bothering to consider they might be part of the reason. 

Not to mention when he actually put it together. 

“His power works on broadcasts as well?” Bruce mused, “I know I never saw he was never on the streets when I was out during this time period,” 

“Adding it to the list of questions,” Dick said as he typed it out into the sheet he had made when they started asking too many questions only Tim could answer.  

“Never mind that,” Damian brushed off, “Look at the traits he listed, all listed at the same time from the looks of the ink but if the date is to be believed, this is from before Todd was debuted as Robin, how did he know you had a mastery in hacking, spoke multiple languages and stunt flight?” 

All of them froze at those words, hunching over it to look at the words. 

There was no logical way Tim could know any of those things. Most of Batman’s skill set could be guessed through out the rumors and gossip that flew since the caped crusader started his reign of the city, but those skill sets still weren’t widely known to the public. 

“I…” Bruce shook his head, “Add it to the list, we have a lot more of the book to get through to worry about this now. We should try and finish the book. 

But the issue popped up again and again as the pages went on, each hero he met he knew their skills down to the littlest detail, things he shouldn’t be able to know, especially before he became the third Robin. 

He knew Clark was Superman when he met the reporter first.

He knew Diane was made of clay before the woman had ever given away that little tidbit.

He knew that Barry was a wiz when it came to criminology before the speedster had ever given up his identity. 

He knew Arthur had low-level empathic abilities that went beyond sea life before Arthur was even considered a hero. 

They were only two-third of the way through the book, arguing over how The Commissioner could possibly know their identities, let alone why it would make his number rise so quickly when not even Bruce’s number had done so when he learned the other League member’s identities, when a stern voice cut through their thought. 

 “Gentlemen, There’s a bit of a situation that Master Tim and I discovered that could use your attention.” Alfred cut in, making them turn, stopping when they saw Tim practically sprint to the Bat computer, pointily looking at the wall to avoid looking at them, his shoulders so tight they shock.

“Tim?” Dick asked, concern dripping from his words as he started towards the younger man only to freeze as Tim visually flinched away from the word, curling inward as he frantically typed away on the keyboard. 

Before any of them tried to break the silence again the giant screen lit up to show a battle play out. A young girl dressed in a red and polka-dotted outfit flipping and twisting out of the way of the pages thrown like ninja stars at her, a yoyo used to propel her, eyes filled with laughter behind her mask. Her moves were agile and practiced, as another figure, a boy her same age dressed in skin-tight black leather entered the frame. 

“I figured out why Marinette is a 15,” He finally managed out, making the bats’, minus Jason, heads snap to him.

A 15? 

The brat couldn’t just have a normal girlfriend, could he?

No, he had to have someone that shattered Tim’s power completely.

 And he had no idea why, until now. 

They really couldn’t blame him for being obsessive. 

“I couldn’t find out why Mari was so powerful,” Tim rambled on, “But Alfred helped me realize that she’s a hero too. A hero with the power of the god of creation on her side, which makes sense for why she completely broke my, uh, my power. She’s been-” 

“Tim,” 

“-fighting a supervillain,” Tim just continued as if he hadn’t heard Bruce, his voice skipping up a few pitches, “ who also uses the power of a god to help him make others into villains to do his bidding. They’ve been locked in battle for years now. Years! We really should have noticed before now, but better late then never right? Heh, she has some allies though so it’s not like she was fighting on her own or anything, and-”  

“Drake,” Damian cut in, ducking past Dick to grab Tim by the shoulder to spin him, staring into his eyes with the type of harsh determination only the demon spawn seemed to be able to, ignoring the quacking fear in Tim’s own eyes, “I am the byproduct of the daughter of one of Father’s greatest enemies drugging him. I was raised will one goal in mind, to be the ultimate weapon to take down all that stood in the way of the League of Assassins, and yet Father, Grayson, Todd, Pennyworth and you gave me safety and taught me why my grandfather was wrong. Todd was murdered by a clown with psychopathic tendencies, was brought back by the magic that my grandfather has a monopoly on, went crazy with Lazarth sickness and thought the best course of action was to become a crimelord in the very city he vowed to protect, going as far as trying to shoot Father, the man he saw as an older brother and you, the boy he was convinced Father had only brought into the circle to die as he had, and yet once the sickness faded Father welcomed back in with open arms, shedding tears for the child he thought he had lost. Father may have made it clear that he’s not a fan of metas operating in the city, but you’re a moron if you believe for a second that means he’s going to disown you or take Red Robin away from you. You’re also lost all my respect if you think this means I or any of the others that dawn the bat moniker are going to feel any different about you for having these powers.” 

Tim’s mouth opened and closed several times after Damian’s speech had come to a close as the others waited for him to break the silence of the cave. All he could feel was his hands trembling as his eyes welled up. 

Damian was still looking at him before sighing, “You really are an idiot,” 

He wanted to retort, wanted to bite out a response as he blinked back the tears but he suddenly found Damian’s arms wrapped around his waist, a tight grounding embrace, the younger boy’s chin resting on his shoulder. 

Tim wasn’t sure he was breathing, his whole body shaking like it was trying to shatter into a million pieces. The brat, Damian, the one person he thought would gladly cast him aside given the slightest of reason to was… 

“You’re family, Tim,” Damian stern voice cut through his mental frenzy, “If I’ve learned one thing since moving to Gotham, it’s that you don’t give up on family, not for anything, and certainly not for something like this.”   

Tim felt something inside him break and the next thing he knew he was sobbing into Damian’s shoulder the pair on their knees in the middle of the cave, gripping Damian back like he thought if he let go the boy would vanish. Slowly as he felt his breathing calm down and his sobs fade he could feel more arms surrounding him. The entire bat family was surrounding him, silently holding him through his breakdown. 

He pulled back, scrubbing his eyes as his family slowly untangled from around him. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, voice scratchy from the tears, “I guess I should have known none of you would hate me but… I’ve been so scared that I’d lose you guys too. I didn’t want to risk it, I couldn’t risk it.” 

He flinched slightly when a large hand squeezed his shoulder looking up into Bruce’s eyes, softened by a love that could destroy the world if his child was hurt. A love that none of the Waynes needed to put words to because of looks like this. 

Glancing back to his brothers he saw the love in Bruce’s eyes reflected in theirs, all of them accepting him and loving him still. 

The weight Tim had carried for as long as he knew to grow lighter as a small smile worked its way onto his face. 

His eyes burning with the same intense love for his family back at them. 

For the first time in a long time, Tim knew without a doubt 

It would be okay. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Tim couldn’t stop the whimper from falling from his lips as Marinette’s class came pouring out of the doors of the school.

All of the Wayne boys had decided to surprise Marinette by showing up at her class when it let out, in addition to not wanting to wait to reveal they knew her secret. It wasn’t hard to get all of them to Paris merely days after Tim’s secret came to light, especially since Bruce was planning on checking up on the Paris branch of Wayne Enterprises the following week before everything happened. Expanding the trip last minute to include all of them had taken little effort, and all of their suits were tucked away in their hotel suites, waiting to be dawned once they got Marinette alone. 

Tim was ready to turn back now though and for a very good reason. 

 In the normal sea of threes and fours, normally Marinette stood out with her overwhelmingly soft pink 15, but now...

The tanned girl that had hoards of kids surrounding her had an obnoxious copper 9 floating above her, the font looking like a tiger had scratched it into the very fabric of space. 

A trio of students, a bulky boy, a small pink-haired girl, and a dark-skinned nerdy-looking boy, were messing around as pale numbers circled their heads, a pair of stark white 12s over the boys and an icy blue 13 over the girl. 

A pair of girls, one blonde and one of Asian descent, were bickering as they made their way down the steps,  a canary yellow daintily drawn 14 for the blonde and deep burgundy calligraphed 13 for the more stoic girl.   

And the blonde boy Marinette was happily conversing with, looking even more softspoken and sweet than the baker girl.

He had a venomous green 15 swirling over him in it’s rounded bubble-like font. 

His brothers glanced at him warily. 

“Everything okay Timmy?” Jason asked, eyes flitting over the crowed on instinct, looking for the threat that spooked him. 

“I’ll tell you later,” He groaned back, “... but keep an eye on the girl in the orange jacket, she feels slimy from all the way over here,” 

His brothers nodded, but even so, Tim felt a migraine coming on. 

For once Tim wished for an alien invasion so he didn’t have to deal with this bullshit.

_______________________________________________________________________

Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @iggy-of-fans @mewwitch @roseinbloom02 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mochinek0 @royalchaoticfangirl @09shell-sea09 @mystery-5-5 @derpingrainbow @aloha-posts-stuff @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @maribat-archive @blue-peach14 @kae690 @zazzlejazzle @vincentvangoose @be-happy-every-day-please @xxmadamjinxx @celestiacq @peculiarlylostdreamer @dani-ari @melicmusicmagic @themcclan @nyctamaximoff @nataladriana9 @drama-queen-supreme @miraculousbelladonna @urbanpineapplefarmer @graduatedmelon @lexysama @hecate-hallow @ki117h3dr4g0n @vinerlover @interobanginyourmom @bluefiredemon @imanerddealwith @tinybrie @clumsy-owl-4178 @shizukiryuu @whogavemeaninternet @schrodingers25 @lunar-wolf-warrior @urbanpineapplefarmer @xxmadamjinxx @crazylittlemunchkin @littleredrobinhoodlum

#miraculous ladybug #batman #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #Tim Drake #meta!tim #BatFam #Damian Wayne #dick grayson #Jason Todd #bruce wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #miraculous class #numbers AU #Tim is so tired

[eak8753]

High School AU 

There were two people at Rebel High that you didn’t mess with. Damian Wayne and Raven Roth. Damian was the son of playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne. He was a violent little shit that got into fights just for the fun of it. He had been kicked out of numerous schools so his Father sent him to the only public school in town as punishment. He could hold himself in a fight and even if he couldn’t, he knew his Father would bail him out of anything.

Raven was a part of the demons, one of the deadliest gangs in America. She was born into it by her Father, as it was her birthright to be a part of it. She was the school's best known drug dealer and had spent the summer before junior year locked up. She had no quarrels with kicking someone’s ass if she needed to, but her preferred method of attack was verbal abuse. Both of them could cut you down to size with a single look and people were far too scared to get on their shit lists. That didn’t stop the rumours though.

“Todd, what are we doing here? I thought you were taking us to get food?” Damian asked his older brother, Jason. He had told their Father that he was grabbing a late lunch, when Alfred had insisted that he take Damian along. That had been thirty minutes ago and they still hadn’t gotten a single thing to eat. Instead they were at some trailer park on the opposite side of the city. The trailers were smaller than his room and it didn’t make sense why Todd would want to come here.

Ignoring his younger brother, Jason got out of the car, banging on one of the trailer's doors. Following his brother's actions -for what reason was beyond him- a man with two dyed white streaks in his primarily black hair, eyes the colour of ambers, covered in tattoos opened the door. looking Jason up and down he motioned for them to come in. Upon entering Damian noticed two things, it was bigger on the inside, and the place reeked of weed.

“I need papes*” Jason told the man once they walked in. “What happened to the ones I gave you?” the man questioned turning the T.V off. Damian always had to marvel at how differently they all handled their problems. Todd used drugs and alcohol, Drake would isolate himself, Grayson would throw himself into work, and Damian used violence. Sure they each tended to do what the others did -minus Damian and drugs- but they all seemed more prone to do one thing.

Damian was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a girl’s voice, one he had heard a couple of times before. “Hey fuckhead” the girl said, anger evident in her voice. Turning to the sound he looked at a form dressed in a white tank top, black sweatpants, and a bat in hand. Right in front of him was Rebel High’s most feared female; Raven Roth. “Shit” the man Jason had asked papes for pailed. “Rae…” he said trailing off as she went towards the television. She glared at the man, then proceeded to take the bat and swing it into the T.V. effectively rendering it useless. Glass shards fell to the ground, all the while the lavender haired girl never took her eyes off the man.

“What the fuck Raven” the man yelled at the young women, looking back from the shattered T.V. to her. “Remember this next time you wanna go through my shit” she said walking up to him, stopping only a few feet away, dropping the bat. “As your older brother I can go through your crap whenever I want to, and how else was I gonna find out that you’re fucking a thirty year old” the dark haired man replied, still in disbelief over the events that took place not even five minutes ago. “Simple, you don’t. Besides it’s not like it would be the first time” the girl replied with venom, clearly still angry, for what was lost to Damian.

The Roth siblings glared at each other, while the Wayne brothers -or the ones there at least- kept glancing at each other, in mild confusion and fear. She looked at him for a moment. Damian had never had a conversation with the young dealer. She rarely ever spoke unless it was to rip someone apart, disrespect someone -who more often than not deserved it- or was to talk about deals. Seeing as Damian and her didn’t run in the same crowd -that of which meant he was popular, thus meaning he sat with popular people and she was always by herself- and he didn’t have a purpose for drugs, they never spoke. Although they did have English together. Turning back to face her brother she flipped him off and walked out the door.

Damian briefly wondered if he had been possessed as he saw her walk out the door, slamming it. He didn’t want her to leave, which was unusual in itself since he wasn’t much of a people person. Looking at the two older men before him, Damian ran out of the trailer home, running up to the young girl, calling out her name.

Stopping a couple of meters in front of him she slowly turned around, her arms crossed in front of her, confusion visible on her face. “Wayne?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow as he ran the last few meters to her. “Hey, I um” he stammered, suddenly his mouth felt dry. Despite other’s beliefs, he had no clue how to talk to teenage girls, especially ones who were just as explosive as him. He knew he had to be cautious, not say or do anything that might make her upset.

“I didn’t know you had a brother” he said casually. “I have five more,” she said, never letting her defences down. Why was Damian Wayne talking to her? It didn’t make any sense, and honestly she couldn’t be bothered to figure out the truth at the moment. She hadn’t eaten yet and was fully aware of how violent and rude she could be if she didn’t eat. “Really? Where are they” he asked with genuine interest. He was observant and used that to his advantage, he pretty much had everyone at Rebel’s High story -or the basics of it- figured out, all’s except her’s.

“Prison” she answered sharply, turning on her heel, she started walking again. Then a hand reached out to latch on to her own, effectively stopping her. Spinning around to him, she looked at his hand on her arm, then at him. Did he have a death wish? Moving his hand from her after a moment -way to quickly, he noted- he went to speak, but was beaten to it. “Look Damian, if my brother asked you to check up on me-“ “Your brother didn’t tell me to do shit. I just wanted to make sure you were okay” he cut her off, nonchalantly.

She was suspicious, he could see that but she didn’t ask “why” which he was grateful for. Honestly Damian didn’t know why he did it, maybe it was because something about Raven had always intrigued him or that she had yet to throw herself at him but he did want to make sure she was okay. Plus if what her brother said about the thirty year old was true, he wanted that pedophile to get locked up.

“I’m guessing you’re one of the shithead brothers Jay is alway complaining about?” She asked him after a moment, still keeping her guards up. Raising his eyebrow slightly he crossed his arms. “He talks about you guys, so are you Kiss Up, Replacement or Demon Spawn?” the girl question. “Demon Spawn, definitely Demon Spawn” the boy answered, smirking.

Sure being called a demon spawn wasn’t something to be proud of, but honestly he couldn’t give two shits. When he first went to live with his Father seven years ago he purposefully was a disobedient, cruel, nasty child, something he undoubtedly would be punished for when he lived with his Mother and Grandfather. He also really liked the names for his other older brothers. Kiss Up had to be Grayson, Father was always comparing everything the others did to their eldest brother. Replacement must have been Drake then, which for Todd was fitting, considering he was adopted a few months after Father had sent Todd off to boarding school in London.

Tuning back into his conversation with Raven he asked “what does he say about us?” “53% of the time it's complaints, 17% is talking about how we should sell him a gun“ this shocked Damian for two reasons; why did Todd need a gun? And he didn’t know the Roths dealt them. Of course he wasn’t stupid and valued his life so he brushed it off as if he already knew these things. “What about the remaining 30%?” The young Wayne asked. At that Raven just grinned.

It was then that she came closer to him, he stood still, tensing up at the contact. He didn’t really like being around people, females no less. He had only really ever had two females close to him; his mother and ex girlfriend, both of which were no longer a part of his life. Raven, being completely oblivious to his uneasiness reached forward for the front of his jacket, playing with the unzipped sides before looking up at him. “Is that a Balmain Biker Jacket*” she questioned, still playing with the sides. “Yeah it is, how did you…” he trailed off, looking at her suspiciously. “Just because I can't afford it doesn’t mean I don't know what it is,” she smirked.

He looked at her a bit sheepishly, then she quickly pulled away from him. For some reason he liked having her close to him, but he brushed it off as wanting physical contact from a female -that he was comfortable with- after going months without it.

“I'm hungry” she stated, and started walking away. Before he could do anything she turned to him again with a raised brow. “Well, are you coming?” She asked. It took him a moment to realize what had happened. Raven Roth had just asked him if he was going to eat with her, it really wasn’t her style. He had rumours that she had slept with -or done something similar- with almost every guy at school. He didn’t think she did dates, then again this wasn’t a date. Did he want it to be a date? That was a question he didn’t need answered at the moment, running up to her he made sure to leave a good five inches of space between them.

Entering Big Belly Burger, they sat down at a booth, across from each other. “Need help deciding what you want,” Raven asked with an amusing smile, clearly teasing him. It wasn't a secret that Damian always had the best of everything; clothes, technology, and food. He knew that she thought that this was his first time coming to a Big Belly Burger, or any fast food place. Yes it was true he didn’t usually go to places that served food high in fat, but he did indulge once in a while, this being one of those times. “Nope” he answered, popping the P, as the waitress came over to them.

“What will it be?” The waitress asked, who Damian quickly realized was a new girl who went to their school, a sophomore he believed. “I'll have a grilled chicken burger and an ice tea, with a side of fries” Raven said, putting the menu down. “I'll have the same thing except for a surprise veg burger” Damian responded to the waitress. Looking up from her notepad, she looked both of them over, registering who exactly was in front of her.

“Holy shit, you’re Damian Wayne” it wasn’t really a question but he nodded anyways. Immediately she became much more cheery. She patted her uniform skirt down, fixed her hair slightly and put on a bright smile. “So what brings you here” she said, he cringed internally at the overused pickup line. He found it a little disrespectful that she would try and talk to him when he was clearly in the middle of something with another person. The complete disregard for Raven infuriated.

He gestured towards the purple haired girl in front of him, the waitress just scoffed. “You certainly are a cheap date” she said to Raven. “Didn’t know you were into rich boys, then again I wouldn’t put being a gold digger past you. Or is the trailer trash you’re used to just not cutting it anymore, you would sleep with anyone who wants it” she said with clear disgust, Raven for her part was keeping her cool, she didn’t even seem bothered by what this girl was insinuating. Damian knew the rumours, and what her brother said didn’t help her case, but she didn’t have to take this kind of treatment.

Looking away from Raven, the younger girl looked Damian, bright smile again. “You know you don’t have to go through the trouble of buying this skank lunch right? I mean you could do so much better-“ no doubt referring to herself, he thought “-and she never needed to be dined before. I heard that she” “I don’t give two shits what you heard about her. Now can you please go get us our fucking food” Damian snapped. The girl, slightly taken aback by his outrage, just nodded and left, all the while having Damian glare at her.

Looking back to Raven he saw her brow raised, something he noticed she did a lot. “You know you could report her right, get her fired. No doubt that she deserves it” he said, still not understanding how she managed not to be angry. “It’s not that big of a deal” she shrugged, playing with a ketchup packet. Not that big of a deal? She had just been disrespected and thinks it isn’t a big deal.

Then a thought struck him. “Does that happen often” he questioned, although deep down he already knew the answer. She pretended to think for a moment. “All the time” she answered, leaning back in her seat. “You don’t have to take it,” he said, placing his hands on the table leaning forward slightly. “Look, I'm a Roth” she sighed. “People are always gonna talk. If she wasn’t bitching about me being a slut, then it would about me being a dealer” she said, eyes pleading with him to just drop it.

“That's fucked up” he said, staring out the window. “I come from a pretty fucked up family” she responded with a smile in her voice. “Yeah, my family’s pretty shit too” he stated, still not looking at her. He was upset with his Father for not knowing about him until he was ten years old, he was upset with his Mother for not telling his Father about him, but more importantly he was upset that they both never treated him like a normal child, then again Damian wasn’t a normal child.

“Damian” Raven's voice snapped him from his thoughts, turning to look at her; she had an incredulity face. “From what I heard you have a pretty great family” she stated matter of factly. Seeing the look of confusion on his face she elaborated. “I know that your Father is sort of a distant asshole, but he also has a multibillion dollar company to run, so he can’t exactly be there for all of you. Clearly he shouldn’t have so many kids but you all turned out pretty fine. The worst of you being Jason, dubbed by the media, and all he really does is smoke weed” she gave her two cents. She wasn’t wrong, in fact she was completely on the nose. Damian understood why his Father was away all the time, but a part of him still wished he could see him after he came home from school like most kids.

“Still wish he’d be there for us sometimes though. We really only see him on Fridays for a mandatory family dinner” Damian said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Family dinner sounds nice, if my Father isn’t locked up then he’s doing something to get locked up” she responded as their food arrived, thankfully it was a different waitress this time. “How much time has he done?” The young man questioned, taking a sip of his ice tea. “30 years on and off” she answered, taking a bite of her fries.

“So, what’s your story?” She asked him after about three minutes of silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence though, and he actually quite enjoyed it. When he was with his -now ex- girlfriend she hated the silence and would talk for hours, which was fine with Damian if it meant he didn’t have to talk about himself. Obviously this tactic wasn’t going to work with Raven.

“I don’t have one” he simply answered, taking a bite from his burger. “Bullshit” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “Everyone's got a story, whether they acknowledge it or not” she stated. “If that’s true then you must have one” he countered, crossing his arms and leaning back into his seat. “Yeah I do, but I asked first” she shrugged, reaching over and grabbing one of his fries.

His eyes followed his fry in her hands, all the way to her mouth, looking up he realized she had been watching him the whole time, sighing he had no other choice but to answer the young woman. “I grew up with my Mother and Grandfather. They took care of me and taught me how to defend myself. After my Grandfather was killed my Mother had trouble taking care of us, so she brought me to my father.”

“Apparently he didn’t even know I was born and made me take a DNA test to determine if I was even his or not. Surprise surprise, I was. I’ve been living with him ever since, sometimes my Mother comes to visit but I wish she would just leave me alone” at her confused face he explained. “My mother was mentally abusive, and kept me isolated from most of the world. It wasn’t until I lived with my Father that I realized how shitty she was though” he finished, taking another bite from his burger.

They just sat there for a while, unmoving. That was until he reached out to take a sip of her drink, she followed the movements with a raised brow, at his smirk she slightly chuckled. “So...” he drawled out, indicating for her to finish, she sighed. “I lived with my mother up until I was eight” she started. “She was murdered and I was taken. Apparently my father didn’t take too kindly to her running off after they found out she was pregnant.”

”Of course I was beyond angry at him for what he did to my mother. Sure she was a bitch at times but she was the only person I had. He went to jail, for unrelated reasons, after that. My brothers were in and out of the house, so I enlisted in school and about four months later he was released. Forced me into the family business. High school kids are more prone to buy drugs than adults. Of course then the rumours came and he totally lost his shit. Went full on psycho, I had to leave for a while so I got my ass thrown in juvie. While I was locked up he got caught for some shit and now has to do 18 months with a chance of parole in 12” she replied in a monotone voice, not betraying how she actually felt.

“Why’d he go psycho” the youngest Wayne questioned, what rumours had her Father heard that would make her want to go to juvie. “That I was a slut” Damian couldn’t help but snort at that. “Yeah, he thought that I was doing it with everyone; high schoolers, felons, junkies, guys in their thirties” she gave him a small smile as she finished her burger. It was odd, he had never told anyone as much as he had told her. He believed that his mind was something for him and him alone, which drove everyone else crazy. But for some reason he was willing to tell her all of his inner thoughts. Then it struck him.

Thought? What do you mean he thought you did those things. No offence, but you have done those things” he told her with a face of confusion. She looked at him with dull eyes, and shook her head slightly. “I've only slept with one man, Damian, and it wasn’t even consensually” she said with the utmost seriousness, then again when wasn’t she serious? “What...what about the rumours?” he probed with a frown, he believed her, he was just taken aback that someone would spread such nasty lies about another person.

“A few weeks after I started school I was invited to this girl’s birthday party. There was this boy there and he tried to kiss me, I said no. Next thing I knew he told everyone that we had hooked up. Guess he got some of his friends into it too, because they made up shit as well” she shrugged, taking another one of his fries. “Why didn’t you deny it?” He asked. “I did it, but by then the damage was done. It only got worse when I became a freshmen” her eyes had clouded over, as if she was remembering something; something particularly painful.

“What about the guy your brother was talking about?” He inquired, looking her over. Snapping back into reality she answered. “My brother doesn’t know shit. I'm not sleeping with the guy, he's my Social Worker. I have to report to him every two weeks on how shit in my life’s going and based on that he deems whether I can continue living with my father or not” obviously she hadn’t told him the truth, or the entire truth at least. There was no way he would let her live with that maniac if he knew what really happened.

Her words bounced around in his mind. “I’ve only slept with one man, and it wasn’t even consensual. Wasn’t even consensual” she hadn’t given consent. “You were raped” he blurted out. she looked at him with a face of indifference. “Well I wouldn’t go so far to say that-“ “did you and this man have intercourse?” He cut her off. “Yes” she answered honestly, “did you give him consent” “No” she shook her head. “That means you were raped-“ she was about to protest but he continued “-he invaded your body without asking or having permission.”

“Even if you had given consent, that still makes him a pedophile, you have to report this” he couldn’t believe this. The girl everyone had belittled for being a slut was actually a rape victim. “I can't,” she whispered. “Why not” he raised his voice slightly, maybe she didn’t understand the magnitude of this situation, but he did. “Because in some fucked up way...I care about him” she laughed but there was no humour in it. Looking up at him he noticed the unshed tears in her eyes, and he knew that this was hurting her, breaking her. She was pleading with him to drop it. “Rae...” he trailed off, he was sorry for her, not in a pity kind of way, but in a you-don’t-deserve-this kind of way.

“Look,” she said, straightening up a bit. “It happened years ago, I have no way to prove that it even happened. The bastard is already in jail anyways” she said, reaching across the table to put her hand over his, not to take a fry. She smiled at him softly, he didn’t agree with her and was willing to take this to court, even pay for a lawyer, but there wasn’t much he could do if she didn’t want to. So, he just returned the smile.

It was weird, less than an hour ago he hadn’t spoken to her once, and now it felt like they knew each other better than anyone else. He had just thought of her as a skanky dealer, another criminal that should be locked up. It was true, what she had said, that everybody has a story. He silently vowed to never judge another person without truly knowing their story first. This may have been their first conversation, but something told him it wouldn’t be their last.

***

A/N: This came to me when I was watching Euphoria and Shameless videos :)

Papes - The paper you roll weed up in (I think, don’t know if that’s how you spell it)

Balmain Biker Jacket is this expensive leather jacket

#demon birds #damirae #damian x raven #fanfic #fanfiction #high school au #damian x raven fanfic #damirae fanfiction

[simastysims]

Simasty Season 1 Episode 2 “The plot thickens” (originally published Nov 2018 @simasty.com)

Brystle Hemmings is preparing for her marriage to billionaire Burke Simmington. She faces hostility from all sides in his mansion, either from the staff or from Burke’s spoiled daughter Fathom. Brystle is worried that a past indiscretion may come to light…. Fathom meanwhile was overwhelmed by Brystle’s cheap perfume and sought comfort with potential sugar daddy Cyril Dolby, business rival to her father Burke. Cyril brushed off Fathom’s amorous advances and urged her to marry her former boyfriend, who is also his nephew, Seth…. Meanwhile Burke’s estranged son Heathen returned to the family mansion for his father’s wedding and is unsure if he will be able to reconcile with his father….And now, read on for the next juicy chapter….

Brystle knocked back the remains of her Brindleton Bay Iced tea and took a deep breath. This was the day before her wedding, she should be celebrating. Yet here she was all alone in Burke’s study in Siloli mansion with not a friend in the entire 48 rooms of the house. The snidey comments from Joseph the major-domo had stung. He referred to Brystle as replaceable, did that mean there had been multiple women in Burke’s life? Had they all been replaced whenever Joseph was displeased? There had only been 1 previous Mrs Simmington as far Brystle knew and she had abandoned her husband and children years ago, never to be seen or heard of since. But what part had Joseph in all of this? Was he such an influence on Burke? Brystle had no clue but the fact that Joseph knew, or implied he knew, something about Brystle’s past made her alarmed. For she knew her previous affair with married man, and employee of Burke, Mayhew Drysdale would cause a rift between her and Burke. The affair had been brief and it was before she and Burke got together but Brystle knew that any new headlines of the new Mrs Simmington sleeping with her husband’s employees would not sit well at all. There was only one thing to do and that was to see Mayhew.

Brystle left he study and walked through the never-ending corridors of Siloli mansion. It truly was cavernous. She still had trouble finding her way about and had once got lost for several hours just trying to locate the nearest bathroom. Eventually after much wandering she found herself in the grand ballroom, the most luxurious of all rooms in Siloli. It wasn’t where she needed to be and was about to turn to leave when she heard a soft male voice from behind her.

Brystle, at first startled, turned and faced the young man. His delicate features matched the softness of his voice. She knew who he was even though they had not met

And so Heathen took his seat at the grand piano and started to play. Almost immediately Brystle was captivated by the melody, it was mesmerizing. She was also captivated by the very movements of Heathen’s fingers across the ivories.  Heathen continued to play effortlessly and with precision. Brystle took a seat beside him and waited until he had finished.

Heathen took a seat by Brystle and the two started chatting away like they had known each other for years.  After spending time getting to know one another and brightening one another’s day Heathen started to feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He even felt that there would be a chance to make amends with Burke.

At last Brystle felt that she had made a positive connection with another individual in the house other than Burke. It was a weight off her heavily shoulder padded shoulders but there was still the matter of Mayhew to sort out and that was where she had to go next. But first she needed an outfit change….

Millionaire playboy ,and heir to the DolbyDoh fortunes ,Seth Dolby was entertaining his latest female acquaintance, the delightful Minus Manners. He had met her only recently, about an hour ago to be precise, on a flight into San Myshuno International Airport aboard the private DolbyDoh jet. Seth had been returning from an extended stay in the hedonistic gambling city of Lucky Palms. Minus had just started her first day on the job as the DolbyDoh jet’s stewardess and couldn’t believe her luck when the handsome playboy began flirting with her.

Once the flight landed Seth whisked her off in his waiting limo. In the back of the limo they could barely keep their hands off one another and smooched passionately all the way to Seth’s apartment. Once there they continued their afternoon amorous activities including a steamy shower together. Afterwards the flirting continued with Seth showing off his fine physique…

They took their canoodling to the couch where Minus proceeded to demonstrate the power of her hands by giving Seth a sensual massage.

As things got steamy in the apartment, Seth’s uncle Cyril was arriving to pay his nephew an unexpected visit following his earlier meeting with Fathom at the art gallery.

Being a very forthright man, Cyril let himself into the apartment without knocking. Seth was surprised but happy to see his uncle and quickly leapt up to welcome him. Minus was less than impressed by this intrusion not realising that Cyril was the CEO and founder of DolbyDoh. In other words her boss!

Seth then introduced Minus to his uncle. Minus spoke politely and hid her annoyance rather well. Cyril ,however, viewed the girl with disdain for he had come here on a mission -he had plans for Seth. No 2 bit, good time girl was going to get in his way.

Seth offered his uncle a seat as he himself sat back down on the sofa. Seizing his chance Cyril leapt forward and positioned himself nicely on the couch in between the prospective lovers.

The penny dropped for Minus and she realised who this older man was. She quickly got up and scurried herself off to the bedroom. Cyril turned his attention to Seth.

Seth got up from the sofa. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing from his uncle. Cyril had never disapproved of Seth’s playboy antics before and had in fact actively encouraged Seth to go out and enjoy himself as much as possible.

Cyril still had a plan to see through. As this stern father tactic was not working he decided to try a different approach.

Seth stopped in his tracks. Right then and there Cyril knew he had him in the palm of his hand. Seth had always loved Fathom and no other woman could fill the emptiness she had left behind when they broke up all those years ago. This was going to be easier than he thought.

And with that, Cyril left the apartment satisfied in the knowledge that he had successfully sown the seed of his deception in Seth’s mind. His nephew had never settled with any girl following the break up with Fathom when they were teenagers. His heart belonged to her. Fathom just had to play her part now. Cyril knew that deep down Fathom had feelings for Seth though she would not admit it. But she was a fickle girl and if Seth behaved like a love sick puppy then Fathom would probably run for the hills and his plan to take over Burke’s company WindenburgSimmington would be over before it had begun…

Seth was left in a state of total confusion. He had not seen much of Fathom these past couple of years save for what he read about her on online gossip columns. She had broken off with Seth claiming she was bored of him so to learn that she had been in love with him all this time seemed unreal. He staggered into his bedroom where the scantily dressed Minus waited for him but his thoughts were now of Fathom.

Minus was about to say something but instead Seth took her in his arms and began intensely smooching her. Minus did not complain, not even when Seth whispered another woman’s name in her ear…

And then after a false start, Minus finally got her man into bed. He may have been thinking of another woman but Minus was determined to show Seth the time of his life and woohoo his brains out.

As it was the eve of his wedding Burke had decided to leave the office early. Being the CEO and founder of a global corporation meant he still had a lot of matters to see to and as such he had his right hand man with him in his study, lawyer and good friend Andre Wayward.  

Andre and Burke went back years and Burke had given Andre his first job straight out of law school. Andre had stood by Burke over the years and helped him build WindenburgSimmington into the mega global corporation it now was. A very resourceful lawyer, Andre has found the means to help Burke out of any sticky situation be it work or personal. It is this lifelong friendship that has made Andre look out for Burke and to prevent anyone from taking advantage of the billionaire. Including potential new wives…

Andre was of course referring to Burke’s first marriage. That Mrs Simmington had been paid off with a small fortune to leave Windenburg and never return. Whilst it hadn’t financially ruined Burke the scandal of it all almost did.

Andre hadn’t anticipated this response from Burke. His friend and client was always one step ahead of anyone at anytime, always pre-empting his opponent’s every move. That was how he had become so successful. To see him like this throwing caution to the wind was unheard of. Just what had Brystle done to him? Andre persisted with the prenuptial agreement.

Andre sighed, there would be no changing Burke’s mind. This was more like him, always sticking to his guns on something he believed in. Only this time Andre feared this would end up costing him dearly. And he wanted to state for the record his opinion on the matter.

Burke considered the file momentarily before shaking his head.

Andre too shook his head but in pure disbelief that Burke was behaving like this. He shook his friend’s hand told him while he disagreed with his decision he wished nothing but the best for him and Brystle. But, as every good lawyer knows, keeping a poker face when hiding the truth is the key to being a success. Andre’s thoughts were not what he was vocalising. 

Across town Brystle had gone to Central Park. She had gone there in the hope of meeting someone who she knew to frequent the park for his post work / early evening jog. She stood in the gazebo and gazed at all the happy couples casually strolling through the park. Everyone seemed so joyful, without any cares. Why didn’t Brystle feel this way? It was her wedding tomorrow, she was to be a bride, she should be euphoric. But there was something pressing on her mind.

It was getting late, there were rain clouds rolling in. Just when she thought he wouldn’t show, there was the sound of footsteps on the wooden gazebo behind her. The smell of musky cologne filled the air, it was the type that had a ship on the bottle. Brystle salivated at the whiff of it knowing who was wearing that all too familiar scent.

Heathen had been notified from Joseph that his sister Fathom had returned home and she was having cocktails on the lanai by the swimming pool. He had also instructed the house staff not to inform Fathom that he was here already as he wanted to surprise his sister. So after slipping into some outdoor gear Heathen made his way to the lanai.

After spending a few moments reminiscing the siblings sat down together. Heathen looked around at the house and a wealth of memories came flooding back, not all of them were pleasant.

The mention of Heathen’s boyfriend Fred was obviously a sore point. Fathom was keen to learn more but knowing that Heathen would clam up she decided not to pursue the subject for now. Heathen was already keen to move the conversation along.

The siblings laughed and joked like old times. Heathen made a promise to hang around for a while after the wedding which delighted Fathom.

After a few cocktails they both ended up flat on their backs looking up at the towering trees that were in the Siloli grounds. The conversation by now was less frivolous and for the first time Heathen touched upon a subject that had always been taboo for them both.

They both lay in silence for a while after that for what else could be said about the woman who had seemingly abandoned them as children? It was something that had haunted them as they grew up, the absent mother who never made contact with her children again. Whilst Fathom seemed she could care less whether or not she would see her again, Heathen always believed that their mother would one day return. Perhaps that day would be sooner than he thought…..

Across town at Central Park, Brystle was with her former lover Mayhew….

Brystle turned and faced Mayhew. He looked super hot in his skimpy short shorts. She tried to avert her eyes.

Joseph’s insinuation that he knew something had fuelled Brystle’s anxiety and was the reason she had come here to ask Mayhew that question. That and to catch one final glimpse of those rock hard thighs….

She was trying her best but her eyes were being drawn south….

Brystle felt that she was being torn in two. Her love for Burke was great but seeing those thighs of Mayhew’s again had set her pulse racing. There was only one way to deal with it and that was to cut Mayhew loose.

Mayhew looked crestfallen. Brystle felt so guilty for upsetting him. She sat herself next to him on the bench.

Mayhew was right. At that moment she realised she still had feelings for Mayhew all along. Was it love? Was it possible to be in love with 2 Sims at the same time?

Sensing he had hit a nerve Mayhew got up to leave. A rain cloud suddenly burst in the sky over them and a downpour ensued.

With that he ran out of the gazebo into the rain and vanished from her sight.

Brystle stood and looked out across the rain soaked city. A storm was fast approaching. And it appeared to Brystle at that moment that there would be no sunshine for her after all…..

Will Brystle ever get to see Mayhew’s magnificent manly thighs again? Can we just get to her wedding already?  What information has Andre discovered on Brystle? What is the name of the first Mrs Simmington? And will Seth make a total tit of himself declaring his love for Fathom? Stay tuned for the next exciting episode!

#dynasty #sims 4 #sims #thesims #thesims4 #the sims 4 #simslit #soap opera #blake carrington #krystle carrington #fallon carrington #steven carrington #80s tv #80s soap