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Bruce, Talia finds, has an uncanny ability to know when she arrives in the city, and exactly where he can find her.
So when night falls and she hears a light thump on the roof behind her, she isn’t surprised in the slightest. “Bruce,” she greeted, her attention never straying from the apartment building in front of her.
From where she’s standing, she can see you sitting on your living floor, hunched over the coffee table, writing as you flipped through a book. And judging the frustration shadowing your face, it looks like you're in the middle of work of some kind.
Damian’s there too, laying on the couch with a book in his hands. Whatever he had said caused you to laugh, moving to poke his sides, making him chuckle. He’s happy, content even and it stirs something inside Talia.
“Talia,” Bruce grunted, moving to stand beside her, “what brings you to Gotham?”
“A little birdy told me my little Damian is to be married,” she answered, attention still on the window she can see you through. “I was merely curious is all.”
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[ cw: nightmares / trauma / ]
Post-invasion, Mikey sneaks into Leo’s room and when asked by Leo what the problem was, Mikey just smiles and says since he’s awake and knew Leo would be too, he didn’t want either of them alone. Leo laughs and lets Mikey stick around, both of them clumped together on Leo’s bed, watching grainy compilations of old Lou Jitsu commercials on Leo’s phone.
Technically, Mikey didn’t lie. He just didn’t explain everything that led him to Leo’s room. He didn’t explain the nightmare of his arms burning up too bright, too fast, destroyed before Raph and Donnie have a chance to help. He didn’t explain how he woke up with a wail caught in his throat, phantom pain in his arms and chest alike chasing away any semblance of exhaustion. He didn’t explain how his mind made sure he knew, vividly, that if one thing went wrong with his portal, then he would have never seen Leo again.
He didn’t explain, and he didn’t have to. Leo knows his brothers better than he knows himself, and Mikey has always been easy to read. So it’s no trouble to let Mikey know that he’s still with them, that Leo is here and alive with everyone else. And when Mikey finally regains his exhaustion and falls asleep leaning against Leo, Leo simply maneuvers him into a more comfortable position and stays by his side.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t go to sleep - not that he could, anyway. He just mindlessly scrolls on his phone, the soft snores of his little brother filling the room. He stays in place, awake, because he wants to be sure that when Mikey wakes up again it’s to the immediate sight that Leo is alive and well and home.
And, if Leo’s bring honest, that’s a reminder not just for Mikey’s sake.
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Tony Trapezoid Dama first digital design concept + reference !! They've been in the works for a while, it feels good to finally put that onto a digital drawing... Sorry about all the empty space on the canvas, RIP
This may be their ref for a while, but their design may still be a subject to change!! But for now, this is their design. (They still need to be drawn from their side and back view as it has some details you can't see from this angle.) (They also still need a suit name, but that doesn't worry me currently as they aren't even a C.O.G.S. INC. employee.)
Anyways, as you can gather from the image, they're the child of Belle! If someone has a grandchild, that means they have kids of their own, and Tony here is the OC for that! They're based on touch-tone telephones and radios... And also Touch Tone Telephone and other Neil Cicierega things. One thing you should know about me is that I love Lemon Demon references in my OCs,, (Has an OC universe based mainly on Lemon Demon)
They once were like every ordinary Suit, just with an interest for the unknown and telling stories - and letting others have their own stories be heard, giving others a voice. Their rather charming personality made them a great radio host! However, after the Toon invasion, they began hearing various conspiracies about them. Already having an interest in the supernatural, they began tying the Toons onto these various supernatural dangers and giving into their growing paranoia. Believing everything they've heard, (Which was a characteristic they've always had - believing almost any story told on their show), they only grew more isolated and their show devolved more into conspiracies of many kinds which turned off many listeners.
Seeing how much harm the Toons were causing to fellow Suits did not help either, in fact, it only strengthened their downfall. They grew more anxious over-all, and seemed more invested in their show and theories than going out. Despite all this, they still care about their family deeply and seem to do everything out of genuine concern and care. Though, they have seemed to stray away for the most part... Oh what would they do for the good ol' days...
Seeing that their mother and at least one of their children have joined C.O.G.S. INC. after, well... The whole Atticus incident - It shook them a little bit. Being so close to those Toons is DANGEROUS! However, as time went on... They took note of how well the two were doing. Even Collin seemed slightly more enthusiastic. Perhaps it's not as bad of an environment as they thought? Regardless, they keep an close eye in case of any tragedy they oh so dread.
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Thinking Number Two Thoughts again...
Thinking about her being a kid who can see so much, but can't articulate it. Not that she's not smart, but it takes so much for her to get it out in words that "make sense" and are "acceptable" to other people.
People say she's cryptic and acerbic and mouthy when they don't care to get to know her, and privately she thinks none of these words are quite right, but she's long since given up hope of someone listening to her.
She has so much energy and so many thoughts and no one ever allows her to use them, so it's no wonder she expresses it in other ways. She's vivacious and excited and always racing around and flapping her hands and so full of ideas.
And the adults around her can't stand it
She's jittery and irritating and she can never sit still and she's always hungry for some unknown reason
So she learns to keep still. She learns to sit on her hands and hold her ideas in. She learns to be as negligible as possible and press her lips tight and listen when the grown ups tell her to be seen and not heard.
But she still has some defiance, a small petty victory.
If she won't be heard then she will be seen
Her favourite colour has always been yellow, and she works hard to find and incorporate every scrap of it she can. She learns to sew and to dye and to make the cheap, threadbare, standardized clothes she is issued her own. She is in the back of every classroom, absorbing everything and learning as much as she can. She is outside every meeting room and in every hallway that adults don't want her to be, listening in and forming opinions that she knows no one but herself will care about.
She was small, and that worked to her advantage. She could slip in doorways and hide herself away in cupboards and alcoves. When she started growing, she was presented with a bigger issue.
The first time she fainted she had been sitting on a low wall outside, swinging her legs and watching the leaves blow in the trees. She heard the call to come back inside and jumped up, only to find herself on the ground with an irate matron looking down at her.
Things only got worse from there, and the grown ups at each and every facility she got passed to had the same expression upon seeing her records. The other children whispered behind her back, either questioning why she received extra portions or mocking her for her seemingly constant dizzy spells.
She kept her head down and kept her mouth shut and her wardrobe grew ever more yellow. She could hardly sleep anymore, and when books were available she would sneak away and read all night. (Once she got old enough for the local store owners to accept her lies, she would work any time she could sneak away, saving up her own money to buy a slim volume or two that she treasured above all else)
Sure, it sometimes made her vision a little blurry, but at this point she was pretty sure that had more to do with the fact that the orphanage kitchens never seemed to have enough food lately.
She managed to contain all of her words and ideas and jitters and "oddities" to the nighttime. There, she was free. There, she could squeak and pace and flap her hands and recite snatches of things out loud and no one asked her to explain herself.
She was never sure how other people seemed to manage it. She was always exhausted from trying to obey all the ridiculous unspoken rules that were enforced during the day. But no matter how tired she was when lights out was announced, sleep would still somehow elude her. Better to be productive and capitalize on her precious few hours where she was free from observation than to lay as still as if she were being interrogated by yet another orphanage director and wait in agony.
One late evening, when she was on her way back from sweeping out the barber shop down the street (It had taken hours, but it was more than worth it when she counted the bills and saw she had the money to buy a new book and enough left over for an apple), she saw a flyer taped to a storefront window.
The title caught her eye, in bold yellow print: “ARE YOU A GIFTED CHILD LOOKING FOR SPECIAL OPPORTUNITIES?”
She noted that the flyer seemed to be addressing her, instead of whatever hypothetical adult may have been responsible for her. She appreciated being acknowledged, even if it was just by a piece of paper.
Walking over, she pulled the flyer down, studying it. The location it mentioned wasn't far away, and the date listed was tomorrow. She folded it and slipped it securely into her pocket.
Even if the strange test didn't turn out to be worth her while, she could probably stand to skip an afternoon of odd jobs. And it's not like the orphanage would miss her anyway
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Autumn’s Note ~ This is also my third time writing something like this, so please be nice. I’m also up to criticism, anything that’s going to make me a better writer. Please enjoy. Trigger Warning: death of parents, orphan at young age, childhood trauma having no social life as a kid, mention of emotional abusive uncle, mention of some what traumatic aunt, reader reading romance books as a kid, reader indulging in voyeurism (in her 20s), implied to have been watched some what the entire time without the reader knowing.
PSA ~ If you come across my work it would it really mean the world to me if you took the initiative to not only like but also reblog.
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After the death of your parents in a unfortunate car accident, you were sent to live with your mother’s sister out in the countryside. Being the weird city kid has costed you to make and have no friends, their parents swaying them to steer clear of your “oddness”. Boy’s only reasons for interacting with you was either for “help” with their school work or to engage in sexual activities with you. Which, unfortunately for you, left you with your self conscious, people pleaser of an aunt. Who’s way of protecting you, was a form of unconsciously projecting her insecurities and fears onto you. Paired with your good for nothing uncle. Who used you as his personal emotional punching bag. You walking into a room was queue for him to dish out any if not every insult in the book. Who would have thought sending a traumatized nine year old to live with her strict, religious overbearing aunt and uncle, combine with a vacant social life would cause and leave negative impacts on her, that would stay with her all her life? Naturally, the young child turned to create and discover coping mechanisms to completely deattach herself from the depressing and painfully life, that would be her reality. Her discovery of romance books would forever change her life. Romance to the young girl was a mysterious endeavor that only adults got the natural rights to experience. She found herself completely immersed in the books, paying no mind to her surrounds as she laid her bottom on the ridged, patterned carpet floor in the young adult section, in the small town’s public library. She had developed a fondness for books who’s storylines ran with a dominant, bad boy and a reluctant good girl. Who’s main premise was the good girl knew it was wrong but couldn’t help but fall in love with the bad boy’s rough, but yet soft edges. Even though at times he was teasing and perverted, when she wanted to “leave” him he was hot on her trail, he always came to her aid when she needed a rescue and fought multiple guys for her, all because they bad mouthed her. He protected her, he chased after her and he desired her, all wrap up in one man. She wanted this, she needed this. She desired to be desired, extending just sexual reasons. In her early 20s now, with her uncle’s assertive push for her to meet a man to only “finally get the hell out of his house” paired her recently voyeuristic routine of revealing parts of her body when waking past areas where many men conjugate, such as construction sites. Had created a horny woman with emotional dependent issues. How it would play out is everyday after finishing your previous destination at your part-time job at the public library, you would have to pass by the construction site on your way home. It wasn’t until your ears were presented of the sound of grunting men, that you arrived at the construction site. Making sure you looked appropriate, popping a few bottoms with a slight reveal of cleavage and hiking up your dress. Any other person wouldn’t think much of how you looked, but you? You who was raised to act and dress modestly with an iron fist, this was extending your comfort zone. And that’s what made it exhilarating. It was also fun. It was fun knowing that as the resident weird girl people are prone to have their attentions anywhere, but on you. You were the only person who noticed. However, unbeknownst to you, a certain young man, after working a continuous tireless shift of swinging sledgehammers and carrying bricks. He who was eating his pathetic excuse of turkey sandwich, with just a slice tomato, behind a unfinished two story house that he would wish his younger brothers would get the chance to live in, would be inspired enough to get him through the rest of his shift after seeing you walk pass him once again.
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