#another dead martha

[starry-bi-sky]

just wanted to say that your thomas wayne au is making me swoon - baby bruce is the most adorable baby ever and they love each other so much 😭

(I saw you mentioned them meeting canon dc and I think everyone of the batfam would be unwillingly won over by this adorable baby and their grandad (and adult bruce would either be paralysed by emotion or start crying or both)) (and maybe there is no martha wayne, simply thomas and alfred raising the cutest and most troublesome baby 😏)

Aaaaahhh I'm so glad you like it 🥺 i love making aus that have the emotional effect of a gut punch on the Bats 🥰 its why 'Danny being a variant of Jason' is such a fun little au I have that I haven't shared here since its pretty convoluted imo.

And i absolutely agree you have it down pat that the canon DC Batfam would be unwillingly won over by Baby Bruce and Danny/Thomas frfr. Danny is so protective and affectionate with his little guy, and I have a personal headcanon that he teaches Bruce how to play piano after discovering an interest in it once he's adopted by the Waynes. (OH and when Bruce is older Danny sits him out in the gardens or on the roofs and shows him how to find constellations)

Danny finds out that the bruce in this world grew up without his parents and starts side-eyeing him HARD bc he wants to be affectionate to this version of His Boy but he doesnt want Bruce to react negatively to it

I'll also tell you a secret: the day Danny and Bruce are transported into the canon universe was the day Danny and Bruce were meant to end up in crime alley :) they were just about to leave the manor.

#dftw au #dpxdc #danny fenton is thomas wayne au #coming up with the nickname 'boo' for Bruce was a big brain moment for me honestly #so was bees #i have so many thoughts about this au but it'd all be nonsensical rambling if i put it in here now #also for martha wayne you totally get it #i could only think of three options for martha and it was: #have martha #have a martha-like oc #or have no martha at all #danny being a variant jason has SO many different aus of it #like there's one version of the au where he ends up in a universe where jason is still dead and everyone thinks HE'S their jason #there's another one where he ends up in a world where its post-jason's revival #and he gets discovered by jason and becomes a little shadow of him #i have so many thoughts its almost paralyzing lmao #i havre SO many in-universe memes about danny and bruce ending up in the canon dc verse but i never shared them i dont think #they're all the same meme but in different formats tbh

[totallynotgoat]

I’m honestly not surprised that Martha is Dead was a bad game considering the same company also made Town of Light and that game was absolute shit

You think they’d realize that using mental illness as the spooky factor in your game is a bad idea considering it didn’t work the first time.

It’s pretty sad that I could come up with a better ending to Martha is Dead in under five minutes that doesn’t villainize DID and the message isn’t “everything is better for the mentally ill now” (which is bullshit btw)

I have so many problems with this game that I can’t even be bothered to list all of them

#martha is dead #you can tell a man with no mental issues wrote this shit #Let’s stop villainizing mental illness in horror games #especially DID #it was just another one of those ooooo you were the monster the whole time games #SPOILERS but Giulia killing Martha/ Martha not existing was stupid asf #it’s been almost 2 months since I played it and I’m still confused #that end message screen was patronizing #Town of Light #yes I 100% believe Town of Light also sucked #that game had no warning screen so fuck that game #Horror games #the visual and gore was nice tho #that’s the only compliment I’ll give it #what was the point of the lady in the lake?

[dentpx]

I was having a rough time with season 3 but these four episodes are some of the best episodes of television maybe ever

#i think uh #i think human nature and family of blood MAYBE could have been one episode? #it feels like there’s some dead air #and conceptually of course like. holy shit I feel bad for Martha #the woman gets trapped in 1913 as a housemaid for two months #AND THEN IN BLINK SHE HAS GETS TRAPPED IN THE PAST AGAIN AND HAS TO PICK UP ANOTHER JOB AGAIN #it is truly not right #anyway blink is incredible tv and utopia made me lose my goddamn mind #utopia was like. the ultimate meeting of the exes #jack should always be a companion I love his energy #dw rewatch #doctor who

[radiance1]

Witch au but Sam looks far too much like Martha Wayne than a lot of people are comfortable with.

I hear you ask, "but Sam is younger than her in this au" and I tell you that Martha Wayne had the genetic trait of looking younger than she actually was, a trait that was in her family for generations.

Thus, we have Sam who resembles Martha Wayne far too much, the philosopher's stone that makes her immortal, and a genetic trait that has Martha looking younger than she actually is and you get misunderstandings.

So, Sam was just minding her business trying to figure out what exactly for her castle to be anywhere that wasn't Amity Park when someone stepped onto her property and, getting a feel for them she realized that they don't seem to be magical in nature.

Also, scratch that, it was more than one person.

So, she decided to give them a... 'warm' welcome.

A group of people who believed in the supernatural decided to get together one day to explore the castle that spawned randomly one day in Gotham for shits and giggles. So there they were, stepping through the fog, barely able to see the ground let alone each other.

They had to solve a puzzle for the door to the castle to open in those conditions, which was weird but it was also the fun kind of weird so they weren't complaining about it. When they opened the door it was very dark, which made them second guess themselves for a second and then they decided to step in anyway.

They live in Gotham what's the chances of this castle being worse than what they go through weekly?

The door slammed shut behind them as soon as the last person stepped inside, leaving them in total darkness for a moment before candles lit themselves up and they saw the inside of the castle in its full glory.

It looked, very, very beautiful.

So beautiful in fact, that they almost missed the woman stood at the top of the stairs. She looked very, very beautiful and was wearing a dress that looked very expensive (think Blue Diamond from Steven Universe but black) with a red gem right in the middle of her chest.

The lady welcomed them into her castle, and suddenly they found their vision going back as the woman's sinister chuckle echoed all around them and they found themselves in separate rooms of the house.

Fun fact, this group of people were also streamers and streaming everything up to the point of Sam's entrance and then her magicking them all in different rooms. They also had a pretty good following, so safe to say the chats were going crazy over what just happened.

So, the various live streamers investigate the castle to find a way to escape before their assumed death, they solve various puzzles both with their own wit and the help of their chat that were magical in nature. The various puzzles and traps were, genuinely, very fun to solve, both for the chat and the streamers doing them.

All the streamers manage to meet up again, and boy are they genuinely thankful for the fact that-so far at least, this doesn't seem to actually be anything life threatening and just seemed to be a grand time all around.

Then they all headed down a hall together, and the chat just went absolutely ballistic when they saw a large portrait of the witch and another man standing together and smiling.

The chat never got a good look at her before the streamers got teleported to different rooms, but that painting?

It changed everything.

Because the woman standing in that picture-as pointed out by a chat member, looked an awful lot like Martha Wayne, and the man standing next to her? Thoms Wayne.

The streamers, obviously, think they've hit the jack pot because their viewer count is just going up and up because of this new information and also think they've hit some sort of scandal because, wasn't Martha Wayne dead?

Eventually, the find themselves sitting at the dining table with said woman who was silently drinking tea with a bunch of food sitting on the table in front of them. The woman smirked as she placed down her cup, asking if they enjoyed the various puzzles she laid out for them.

Everyone agrees, and the chat is exploding for them to ask if she's actually Martha Wayne.

She doesn't answer save for a cheeky smile and then suddenly they were standing outside of her castle and couldn't get back in.

Safe to say, reporters were flocking to ask various questions.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

You Remind Me Of Her

~

"Jason wake up I want to go see the new store!"

He felt his blankets get tugged off of him. Groaning he scrunched his face into the bed.

" Let me sleep another hour or two, it was late when I got in bed."

" And who's fault is that?"

He grabbed the nearest pillow to him and flung it to where the voice was coming from, even with perfect aim he wasn't surprised when he heard it connect with his wall and not a body.

"Yours! If you hadn't dragged me with you to look for those old music disk with you I would have gotten to bed earlier."

"Liar you would still have gone to bed late for whatever other reason."

He sat up rubbing his eyes, hissing slightly when he opened them not expecting his lights to already be on.

"Okay, what store are you making me go to today Martha?"

He dodged a swat to the back of his head. Grinning he headed towards the kitchen hearing her huff and following him.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me grandma! Honestly, you're worse than a nipping dog"

"Well at least I'm not emotionally constipated like Bruce"

"True, but we're not speaking about my son right now we're speaking about you. Now hurry up! I saw the prettiest set of crystal glass cut tea set by the window when I was passing by!"

"Give me like 8 minutes to eat and get ready okay, will grampa be joining us?"

He turned to look at her in the eyes

Her green eyes, just barely glowing. The rest of her being transparent like fog in the early morning, her heels floating a few inches of the floor.

Martha Wayne his grandmother

His dead grandmother now a ghost

Just like he used to be

~

He walked into the small store the small bells jingling above his head.

"Look Jason they have such pretty things!"

His eyes followed her as she floated over to the display case. Quickly he took his phone and held it up to is ear.

"Which one's were the ones that caught your eye?'

He developed the habit of speaking into the phone when he was outside in public view while speaking with a ghost, that way nobody would give him a second glance looking like a normal phone call.

"The one with lilies and forget-me-not's."

His eyes quickly found the pieces and grabbed them. He looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"Is this all you wanted from here?"

The 'Do you want to continue looking?' in his gaze. She gave a quick glance around before turning back to him.

"No just that for today, we can come back another day when you don't have plans."

Jason glanced at her while he quickly paid. Leaving the store he turned to fully look at her while still having his phone up to his ear.

"Plans? I don't have any plans for today?"

A sly grin made its way on to her face

"Well I thought it's been a while since you visited Alfred and since we're in the area we might as well visit, no?"

Jason sighed, " Fine, only because it has been a while plus if I don't go you'll just keep naggin' me."

Martha gave a small huff of amusement

"That's my boy! Now! Let's get some nice tea for our visit, it would be rude to go empty handed, how about some nice cinnamon tea huh?"

"Your obsession with cinnamon tea has started to spread to me, especially the weird way you like it."

"Gasp! It's not that weird, honestly I started drinking it like that because of my cravings while I was pregnant and just never stopped. But don't lie to me, you like it just as much as I do even with the peach jam."

"Fine maybe I do."

He looked down at the time, "Let's hurry up a buy that before it gets too late."

~

He knocked at the door, shifting the bags in his hands as he waited for Alfred to open the door.

Martha waited outside with him even though she could easily phase her way inside.

Jason heard light footsteps before the door glided open.

"Master Jason what a wonderful surprise to see you here please do come in."

Alfred herded Jason inside taking note of the bags he held.

"Did you go shopping before coming here?"

"Uh yea, some of it is for you."

"For me master Jason?"

"I thought it would be rude to come empty handed so I bought tea."

"Very thoughtful of you, lets head to the kitchen to prepare a cup shall we."

Jason quickly looked towards Martha raising a brow

"You go enjoy your tea with Alfred I'm going to look for Thomas, I'll be back by the time you leave"

Jason gave a quick smile in return before quickly following Alfred into the kitchen.

"Hey Alfie we can use the new tea set I got today, let me just wash them real quick."

He turned around, not noticing Alfred's confused stare

"You bought a tea set master Jason?"

Jason turned around after quickly wiping them dry.

"Yeah look, they even have some lilies and forget-me-not's on them, saw them by the window of the shop and thought why not?" He half lied.

"I see, I haven't seen these two flowers paired up together in ...a very long time."

Jason turned towards the kitchen entrance as he heard two pairs of footsteps nearing. Both Bruce and Dick appearing in the doorway.

"Oh good you're both here, I'm about to prepare some tea master Jason brought over for us ,sit down please."

They walked over to the table, Dick quickly hugging him.

"You didn't tell me you were dropping by!"

"Get off, and yea it was impulsive decision."

"Hn, good to see you chum."

"Yeah, you too B."

Alfred walked over with the tea prepared, placing it on the table.

Dick leaned over to see the tray.

"What kind of tea is it?"

"Master Jason brought us cinnamon tea."

Dick looked over at Jason tilting his head, "Since when do you drink cinnamon tea?"

"Since none of your business."

Jason took a small sip before sighing, "Hey Alfred do you have any peach jam?"

Alfred hesitated before looking at him confused, "Peach jam? What for?"

"I like to mix it in with the cinnamon tea."

Alfred's eyes glazed over for a second before heading towards the refrigerator, "...I see, of course let me get some for you."

He quickly came back with a small jar and placed it on the table near Jason.

"Thanks Alf." He scooped up a spoonful and dipped it in his cup.

Bruce and Alfred glanced at each other.

Dick looked up from his own cup, "Does that actually taste good? Can I try some!"

He made a grab at Jason's cup, he quickly pulled it out of reach, "Don't touch mine! If you're really curious make it yourself."

Dick slumped on the table whining, "But what if I don't like it, I'll ruin my tea!"

"That's not my problem"

"Oh come oooon just a little sip!"

"No"

"Pleaseee!"

"Ugh you're worse than a nipping dog, fine!"

Before Dick could celebrate they heard twin startled noises. They turned around and Bruce was covered in tea in what seemed like he spit out his tea, both Alfred and Bruce were staring at Jason faces pale.

Jason glanced around confused, "What? Why are you looking at me like that."

Alfred straightened up clearing his throat, " Apologies master Jason you seem to have startled us a bit."

"With what?"

Bruce finally stopped coughing, "Nothing, you just...reminded us of someone."

~

Just an Idea

#Jason sees ghosts including Martha & Thomas Wayne #he's told nobody #it started after he came back but din't pay it much attention thinking he was crazy until his memories of being a ghost in the GZ started #coming back #he spends a lot of his time with grandma Martha #starts copying her without realizing it #Alfred and Bruce the only ones in the family who #remember her are getting a bad case of nostalgia #it's freaking them out #Bruce gets paranoid #nothing new #Jason's just vibing with his gramps #dp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #danny fenton #dpxdc #danny phantom #batman #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #martha wayne #thomas wayne #ghosts

[lovefrombegonia]

Batfam hc: The reason Bruce doesn't get why Dick wanted to "stay away" from him after he reached his late teens or why Dick didn't wanna be in his shadow... it's coz Bruce just doesn't understand why any child would want to be away from their parents. Why would the child want to be away from his parents' embrace? Why?! He would never want to be away from Thomas and Martha if they were alive. He would always wanna be their little boy. He would always live under their protective, warm and safe shadow. He just doesn't understand. The truth is: He is still their, in crime alley, trying to stop those two bullets. He never truly got out of the crime alley. He probably never would...but that's ok with Bruce. Because he doesn't mind staying in the shadow of his dead parents.

Years later, Dick finally gets how and why Bruce is the way he is. He mourns for his father and protects him the best he can. Dick knows that even though he would never trade what he has with the family he found with Bruce and others surrounding him now...for anything else, including his beloved parents...he knows, that Bruce would chose Thomas and Martha over them in a heartbeat. And it hurts. It hurts him SO BAD. But he will endure this hurt. Because he also knows that Bruce loves him and his brothers and sisters and everyone else consisting of their mess of a family.

Maybe, that's why...when the timeline shenanigans happened, and Bruce was left at the night of tragedy when Martha and Thomas were shot dead in the past, Dick, in the present timeline, was ready...ready to disappear from the present life. And he could see the same fear but silent acceptance in his siblings' eyes too. They held each other tightly. Jason, Tim, Damian, Cassandra, Stephanie, and Duke...all of them, a small part of them were resenting Bruce but their selfless love for him wouldn't let them hate him. After all...how could you hate a lost child. They waited...with Oracle in their comms, her soothing voice telling them again and again how much she loved them all. That, no matter what, she would find a way to remember them all, and bring them back. Dick held Damian close to his chest the tightest. Small and brave Dami, so full of love despite his painful past. Dick wanted to say--

A burst of energy was felt behind him...empty space crackled to life. A portal opened. A man walked out. His cowl and cape soaked in rain.

Bruce broke down. He started crying and then he started laughing. Sorry for letting you down. Sorry for scaring you all. Sorry for letting mommy and papa die. Sorry for loving his present more than his past. He loves his parents. He always would. But he loves his children more. He loves them all. Bruce no longer wanted to stay in his parents' shadow. Now, he just wanted to become a home for his kids. What is a home? A home is a place, when you have nowhere else to go, they have to accept you. And home had no right to abandon those who looked his way for support. He has to be there. He has to be a home. He didn't want to be anything else atp.

Dick held Bruce as tightly as he held Damian. Damian kept say, "Baba, Baba!" while trying to hold back tears. Jason held Bruce's cape tightly, as if he would disappear. He was still in shock. Cassandra cradled Bruce's head in her arms. Stephanie had her arms around Bruce and Jason. Tim was wiping Bruce's tears even though he himself was crying. Duke held Bruce's shoulder. His hand was shaking. He didn't want to lose another father figure. The thought had crossed his mind what his life would be if Batman had disappeared. Would it be better or worse? He decided that he didn't care. In the end, he didn't want to lose Bruce from his life. All of them could hear Barbara's quiet whimpers. Bruce tried to hold all of them in embrace.

A child finally walked out of the crime alley.

#phew...that was LENGTHY for me. #amateur writer here #don't expect quality #only pure and raw emotions #batfamily #batfamily headcanons #headcanon #batdad #batkids #personal headcanon

[just-more-pr0mts]

You have probably seen all the aus like danny gets adopted by batfam, Danny as damiens twin/older brother, Danny dating a member of the batfam, Danny part of the justice league, Danny as a gotham superhero and more.

But have we seen Danny Fenton as Batman.

Danny Fenton who was taken in by the original Wayne family, with Marta and Thomas Wayne. Taken in when Martha was not yet pregnant. They treated him as their own and raised him as such. When they discover that Martha is pregnant and go out to celebrate. When they take a short cut and danny is just a few seconds too late to save them.

The boy who lost his parents when he failed to stop Dan and for all he knows his sister is dead gone. Who was lost in the infinite realms for so long. Who got stuck in a foul city where the weak are crushed so only the strong prevail.

Danny, Who stumbled into the warm arms of the Wayne family. Who slowly opened up to them. Who never used his powers so he could have a shred of normalcy with them. Who realized they loved and cared for him as thier own. Danny who accepted he loved them in turn. Danny,the boy who lost another set of parents on one fateful eve.

Danny who lost-

Danny who

Danny

Bruce.

Bruce who takes in these lost stray children because he wants to look after them. But he doesn't know how to because he never had a normal childhood.

Bruce who puts up a front to protect himself as well as his family. Who lies to face of powerful beings to protect his family. Bruce who trains long and hard to protect his family from said beings, so much so that he ends up locking away his emotions, so that his children don't have to loose another parent -not knowing that they already had so long ago

Bruce who's so proud of his children, but just doesn't know how to show it. Who is so scared, so terrified they might fight the same battles as him...or something even worse.

BRUCE WHO WANTS to kill the joker. Who wants to hurt him like he hurt his CHILD and leave him there to die, but he knows better than that... he knows what a cruel joke it would be, the irony. He knows that it will just more horrible things to his children knowing they'll never be able to stop him. That's why he brought him back.

Bruce who as much as he tries is always two steps behind.

And now when his new dimension is at stake because of the very beings he left behind, he must choose between the life that he built for himself here or the one that he left behind.

A carefully weighted scale. With the future on the horizon, and choices to be made.

Will the scale stay true or will the choices made unbalance it all.

________

Hii my beautiful creatures of the day and night.

I sorta forgot about tumblr but if you like this piece let me know! Also I love hearing how I can improve and make my writing better.

Ps. If you have any suggestions on what I should write about feel free to ask! I'm so excited to hear about it

Ps.ps. if you have any cosplay blogs dm me! I'm trying to get into cosplau

#danny phantom #dp x dc #just a promt #dc x dp #feel free to add \correct anything #please tag if this ever gets made into a fic #dpxdc #cartoon #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc crossover #sad danny phantom #danny phantom angst #danny is bruce #danny fenton as bruce wayne #hes just traumatized #he needs a hug #hes trying his best #but its not good enough #danny was Danielle #but now he is bruce

[halfagone]

Before The Wayne Came A Kane

Martha Wayne née Kane came from a very prestigious family even before she married her husband, the illustrious M.D. Thomas Wayne. Sadly, her family never supported her union with Thomas, so she largely cut them out of her life once she married and that certainly had not changed when she had a son.

Her strained relationship with the rest of her family is particularly apparent when it's revealed, at the release of her and Thomas' respective wills after their unexpected, tragic deaths, that she would not give her brothers or sisters-in-law custody of Bruce. They may be the last of his living relatives, but even in death she would never allow them to touch her baby boy. Hence, his care is left to the head butler, one Alfred Pennyworth.

She did have two sister, though. Two baby sisters, one who had been disowned and disavowed from the family long before her, named Alicia. And one who was far too young to take in her son, even if Martha had allowed it. Her name is Madeline Kane. As the only other acknowledged daughter left from Roderick and Elizabeth Kane, she is left to carry the burden of her older sister's legacy. And what a burden it was, to be constantly compared to a dead woman her family seemed to adore and loathe in strides.

It's really no wonder that the moment she gets the chance, she leaves her family in Gotham to attend a university in Wisconsin. There, she meets Jack Fenton. He can be a little clumsy sometimes, but he has an eye for engineering and doesn't like her for her family's name or wealth. He calls her "Maddie" when she says so, and he doesn't ask about the change.

She falls in love and the two are wedded in the blink of an eye, Maddie pregnant with their first child only a few years after graduation. In her family's eyes, it just further proves that any Kane daughter is cursed and doomed to failure. (Beth understands this. Bette learns this. Kate knows this.)

And all too similarly to her elder sister, when her son is just fourteen years old, she is killed: yet another unexpected, tragic death. Her husband and her daughter perish along with her. Just like her older sister, the only one left is her baby boy.

Only, Maddie wasn't nearly as forthcoming with her will, and there is no guardian marked for custody in his papers. The Kanes, who proclaim they are his rightful family, are more than happy to take advantage of this.

Bruce isn't close to his family, beyond perhaps Kate. But if there is one thing that he knows it's that his parents didn't give his estranged relatives custody of him for a reason. Alfred is stingy with the details, but he can confirm that much.

Bruce is left to fight an uphill battle, helping a mourning boy heal from his loss and fighting his extended family's attempts for custody at every turn.

More ramblings under the cut:

See this guy right here?

This is Jacob Kane, Kate's father, Martha's brother, and Bruce's uncle. He's got the distinct red hair and do you know who else has red hair? Maddie. Jacob is a respected military officer and Maddie, in general, has always given me strong former U.S. agent vibes. But regardless, it makes sense that Maddie would know things or learned how to fight at an early age if her older brother left for military service.

Also, I just love showing Bruce's extended family and how twisted, complicated his family was long before he adopted so many children. And this also helps explain why Maddie is so cagey with her background. She only has Alicia left really, all the rest she keeps out and away for good reason.

But she can't protect Danny from them forever.

Plus, there's this really cool possibility for Danny to stay with the Kanes for a while and explore that avenue before he's ultimately brought into the Wayne fold. Danny gets to see what the upper crust Gotham elites look like with his own two eyes, beyond Sam's stories.

#dpxdc #dpxdc prompt #dpxdc au #long post #i might actually write this one #one of these days #there are so many possibilities #but anyone is free to run with it! #>:3

[anotherramblingfangirl]

I actually think this Dark Knights of Steel twist-reveal with Alfred as martian manhunter was a really fascinating one (I genuinely loved it).

An Elseworlds continuity which really took advantage of being able to take different interpretations of a character, by the writer of the Nightwing series where the presence of Alfred is felt throughout, despite his pre-series death

Here we have him as the last survivor of a genocide, who lost absolutely everything. Felt he failed in the worst possible way, as his fatally wounded child died in his arms - unable to even offer him any comfort, with both being telepaths.

He flees a dead world. Gets to try again. Martha and Thomas Wayne know what he is, but conceal the secret. Have him as one of their most trusted retainers, friends.

He gets to try again.

A smile on his face, he gets to see another boy grow.

Even as Martha and Thomas are murdered, he stays with their son, looking after him no matter what. Having faith in him. Loving him. To the point where a man who had his adored son brutally murdered in the dark, able to do nothing but watch him die, looks at this orphaned alien child and says -

-as he holds the lasso of truth.

It adds an additional, really interesting factor to the paternal relationship he has with Bruce in this particular setting. I wish we got to see more of it. Perhaps if they ever do more "Tales of the Kingdom", we may get to see it in a prologue manner.

#batfam #batman #alfred pennyworth #martian manhunter #dark knights of steel #dkos #i once again strongly recommend this series #dark knights of steel spoilers #dkos spoilers #i have many more thoughts but will restrain myself #post by me #long post #dc #batfamily #i always love alfred as a dad to bruce #so of course i enjoyed this version

[schwadudle]

I've had this brainrot about an batfam AU for quite some time now and I haven't had the time to write it so I just gonna share it with y'all.

So it's an AU where Thomas and Martha never die and Bruce never becomes batman but he still adopts all of his kids. Then one of his kids (preferably Jason cuz' it would be the funniest) goes in another universe for some bullshit reason and has to deal with his vigilante family.

____________________________________________

Jason: "Where are my grandparents?"

Bruce: "As in Alfred?"

Jason: "No, as in Martha and Thomas... your parents."

Bruce: "Jason, they're dead."

...

Jason: "You want to tell me that my grandparents, who are very much alive, died and turned my dad into an anti-social emo furry and made it everybody else's problem?"

Rest of the family: "Sounds about right."

#it would be so funny #hilarious #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #batfam #jason todd #batfamily #dc #dc robin #no capes au #the waynes #alfred pennyworth #thomas wayne #martha wayne

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Alternate Doctor Who Companion Endings

The Hartnell Years

Barbara: becomes an Aztec queen

Ian: Stabbed by a TARDIS-possessed Susan running with scissors

Susan: Eaten by a normal-sized Earth woodlouse while shrunk

Vicky: Conscripted into a civil war between large-sized non-Earth moths and ants

Steven: arrested for mugging a man for his Rolex in 1066

Katerina: journeys with the Doctor for eight multi-part serials before falling in love with a Samurai and staying in Edo period Japan

Sara Kingdom: becomes a Golden Era Hollywood stunt actor

---

The Troughton Years

Polly: Becomes a fish person

Ben: Conscripted into being a Highlander

Jamie: New face new man

Victoria: Killed by a Cybermat

Zoe: vanishes in Foam

-----

The Pertwee Years

Liz Shaw: falls in love with a Silurian

Jo: accidentally drops the Doctor's tupperware box of anti-matter

------

The Baker Years v1

Sarah-Jane: stays on Peladon to pioneer feminism

Harry Sullivan: accidentally replaced by a Zygon

Leela: steamed

Romana 1: a Mishap with a giant squid on a methane refinery. Regenerates.

Romana 2: becomes a vampire

------

The Davison Years

Nyssa: stays on Earth to become a paleontologist

Tegan: goes home with the wrong Doctor (it was a choice of 5, whoops)

Adric: gets lost in an Escher building. Left behind.

Turlough: succeeds in killing the Doctor. Sent home by the Black Guardian with an extremely silly hat

------

The Baker Years v2

Peri: turned into a bird by a slug

------

The McCoy Years

Mel: stays and joins a rebel punk roller derby team and takes on alien!Thatcherite non-Britain

Ace: becomes a Time Lord (with a baseball bat)

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The McGann Years

Grace: stays dead

Chang Lee: stays dead

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The Eccleston Years

Adam: promoted and eaten by a gelatinous ceiling

Captain Jack: is so successful on Trinny and Suzannah that he gets and stars in his own future!TV show, How to Look Good Naked. Becomes a celebrity. Stays.

------

The Tennant Years

Rose: possessed by Cassandra

Martha: blows up Earth with the Oster Haagen key

Donna: refinds her real life husband from Silence in the Library after being downloaded

Mickey: becomes parts in a clockwork spaceship

------

The Smith Years

Amy: becomes an Angel

Rory: finds out his fiance sexually assaulted another man the night before their wedding and leaves to build a better life

------

The Capaldi Years

Clara: genuinely leaves and never comes back after that moon bullshit because she's fed up with his abuse

Bill: stays on the Cyber-infested spaceship to lead the colonists as they start a new society

Nardole: Cyber-converted, but is the quirky comic relief robot. The Doctor leaves him with Bill, in case he's useful.

------

The Whittaker Years

Yaz: joins Zheng Yi Sao, is now starring in Our Flag Means Death s3

Graham: stays in the frog universe with his dead frog wife

Ryan: seduced by King James VI and I, becomes prince consort

Dan: goes to space with his grumpy dog friend on new adventures

#doctor whom

[lwh-writing]

DC x DP Prompt: Maddie Kane

Disclaimer: I don't know a whole lot about the Kane family. This is mostly my own interpretation based on the wikis I hastily read.

Roderick and Betsy Kane had six children: Martha, Nathan, Philip, Jacob, Roderick Jr., and Madeline.

Now, Madeline was a surprise baby. Martha was already twenty-three and married to Thomas by the time her only sister was born, but that didn't stop her from showering the girl with love and affection. Thomas loved his little sister-in-law just as much, and the two practically raised her as their own. Under the undivided care and affection of Martha and Thomas, little Madeline grows up to be a willful, independent, free-thinking, intelligent girl who is very, very happy with her life at Wayne Manor.

Madeline and Martha's relationships with their brothers are... complicated, to say the least. Martha as a rule did not fully support the Kane Family's arms dealings, and so tried to distance herself (and subsequently Madeline) from them. The Kane boys didn't challenge this overmuch: they were, after all, hard military men and didn't have much interest in raising their sister who would surely just become another socialite married to one billionaire or another. (It's ironic, then, that Maddie would grow up to be the best weapons innovator the Kanes would ever produce, but such things happen.)

Madeline had just turned thirteen when Martha and Thomas had Bruce. Her little nephew was a long-awaited joy for the family, and she would sooner think of Bruce than the Kane boys when Maddie heard the word "brother".

This idea is only solidified when the Kanes, forced to acknowledge their sister after multiple high-society scandals, try to strong-arm her into attending a finishing school in England. (Maddie to this day does not regret hospitalizing Lionel Luthor. If he didn't want a broken fibula, then he shouldn't have gotten drunk at a Wayne Gala and tried to strike his son. The following press release was unfortunate, but the thank you card from Alexander was touching.) The Kanes are not successful in removing Madeline from Gotham, and after much back-and-forth, they give one final ultimatum: either go to England and return an "upstanding member of society," or Madeline would be officially cut off.

Madeline chooses the second option without much further thought, sure to tell her brothers to stuff it in as many ways as she can before she trashes the Kane Mansion for good measure.

Madeline, now almost exclusively going by "Maddie", thrives. She gets accepted into the University of Wisconsin, and so off she goes, with hugs and well-wishes from Martha, Thomas, and Bruce, who are staying in New Jersey.

Maddie is twenty-one when she gets the worst news of her life: Martha and Thomas are dead. She puts her studies on hold for a bit and flies back for the funeral, her research partner/best friend in the world/boyfriend Jack Fenton-Nightingale coming with her.

Not even a week after her sibling-parents are put in the ground, her brother Philip tries to swoop in and seize Wayne Industries for himself. Thankfully, though, Martha and Thomas's wills were very clear: Maddie is to manage the Waynes' estates until Bruce comes of age. So Maddie once more tells her brothers to fuck off, this time for good. Jack, muscled, glowering, and seven feet tall and still growing, makes good to stand silently in the background so the Kanes don't try to pull anything further.

As soon as she is able, Maddie sits Bruce down and they make arrangements. Maddie can't abandon her schooling forever, and Bruce's life has been upended enough; she doesn't want to make it worse by ripping him away from the only home he's ever known. So Maddie signs over custody to Alfred, and promises are made to visit every chance she gets.

Life moves on. Jack and Maddie get married and start Fenton Works. Bruce starts traveling abroad to "further his education of the world." Maddie and Jack have two kids. Jasmine Martha Fenton-Nightingale-Kane inherited the Kane signature fire-red hair, and Daniel James Fenton-Nightingale-Kane looks so much like Martha that it hurts. Bruce adopts a gaggle of children of his own. Bruce and Maddie like to send each other pictures to brag about their respective kids, and the Fenton-Nightingale-Kanes make sure to visit Gotham for at least one week every summer.

Maddie and Jack don't ask too many questions when Bruce hesitantly takes them aside and requests that they make a couple of custom-made, non-ghostly weapons for him. Of course they'd be happy to make him a few odds and ends every once in a while. Goodness knows how dangerous Gotham can be.

The Fenton-Nightingale-Kanes miss their summer trip for the first time ever when Danny comes to them and explains the whole "half-a-ghost-thing" and, well... Jack and Maddie spend the entire summer reeducating themselves about ghosts, working through years of biases, and ensuring that their son knows that they still love him of course we still love you, Danny, there isn't a thing in this world that could stop us from loving you. Dick Grayson is very understanding and assures them that Bruce wouldn't mind. (Dick is very happy to avoid telling Aunt Maddie and Uncle Jack about Bruce's death. Dick is even more happy when Tim finds proof that their dad was just lost in the timestream and not actually dead. That entire summer was very stressful for both sides of the family)

It isn't until Danny is seventeen and hesitantly makes contact with the Justice League that the Waynes learn about ghosts and the Fenton-Nightingale-Kanes learn about the vigilantism.

Maddie is so cross when she and the rest of the ghostly delegation walks into the Watchtower only to come face-to-face with her nephew/brother, and don't you try and deny that's you, Brucie, I have eyes. Who are you trying to fool, young man?

The rest of the Justice League has to awkwardly sit there as the Ghost King and his family have a full-on family reunion, with King Phantom taking the time to finally introduce his partners to his cousins, Princess Jasmine and Nightwing teaming up to try and talk Red Robin into dialing back on the caffeine intake, King Father Jack exchanging fudge recipes with Agent A, and Queen Mother Madeline chewing out Batman for being a reckless idiot and not telling her what he was using his gadgets for. ("If I knew that grappling hook would be actively used every night, I would have installed more safety features! We could've made it more durable! We would've had to put it through more rigorous testing before we deemed it field-ready!" "Why does that bother you now? Isn't your lab safety horrible?" "A private, indoor lab that less than ten people have access to is not the same as the streets of Gotham in every type of weather! Goddammit, Bruce, I swear--")

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #maddie kane au #my writing #feel free to continue this if it inspires the gremlin muse

[all-mirth-no-matter]

Time After Time | Chapter Eight

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: Chapters two through seven from Tommy’s POV.

Warning: language, smoking, war mention(ish), PTSD mention(ish), suicide thought, ethnic slur

Side Note: Taking some liberties with some of the back and pre-pilot stories, as well as some of the stuff we just don’t know (Harry’s backstory and involvement in the war, as an example). Just go with it lol.

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter Eight: Devil Inside Me

There’s a devil inside of me, and he’s holding on. And I don’t know if he’s staying, or for how long.  Pulling at my heart-strings, kicking in my mind. And I’m sad to say he’s got me thinking, about the bad parts of my life.  — Devil Inside Me, Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes

Tommy was a dead man, walking through a life he knew he shouldn’t be walking, breathing an air that he shouldn’t be breathing. The realization that he hadn’t in fact died, or that he was actually going to go home, hadn’t even set in until hours after he stepped out of the train station the day they all came home. 

Well, not all of them came home. The faces of those he left with, who he fought with, who hadn’t been “as lucky” as him were always there, flashing just behind his eyelids with each blink. 

Ghosts of a fate that should have been his. 

He knew he wasn’t the same Tommy Shelby who’d left those handful of years ago. None of the men who were returning with him were. He could see it in Polly’s eyes the moment she saw them — a relief that was immediately replaced with a new coat of worry. 

Looking around as he stepped off the train, he was surrounded by men of all ages embracing their loved ones, crying, weeping. He watched John cradle his wife’s face as he kiss her, his children surrounding his legs. He watched Ada hug Arthur, then Freddie, before pulling him in for an extra tight hug. Tommy should have felt that same level of relief that he could see on his brothers and best mate’s faces, to be walking on English soil. 

But he still felt like a dead man. And it was all because of her. 

The first face Tommy saw as he stepped off the train was hers — the same face he saw while he laid in the mud. Another ghost, standing amongst the sea of people. 

The girl seemed just as surprised to see him as he’d been, and in a moment she was dropping her head and turning to leave. Tommy started to move forward faster, determined to reach her before she disappeared again. But by the time he breached the crowd in front of him, she was gone, and the cries of welcome from Polly, Ada, Finn, Martha, and John’s kids pulled him out of his odd trance. But still, in the back of his mind he wrestled with whether she’d really been there in the flesh this time, or if she were just another vision. 

Riding back into Birmingham, into Small Heath, and then walking down Watery Lane felt like a dream. His brothers and mates wanted to go to the Garrison first thing, but Tommy just wasn’t ready. After years of living in the trenches, the world around him felt very loud, very crowded, and he just needed a moment of peace in his old bedroom. 

Polly had kept his room the same as when he left. The clothes and sheets were recently washed, she’d told them on their way in. Tommy wondered if he could even fit in those old clothes of his anymore, instead choosing to pull out a shirt to sleep in from his luggage, breathing in the familiar scent. 

As he dug around further in his bag, he found the medals they’d given him. Acts of heroism and gallantry, the voices of those who’d presented them to him echoed through his mind as he scoffed. He picked them up and threw them in a drawer, then laid down on his bed. A few minutes later, he sat up and dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He could hear the cheers outside, the music, the merriment and excitement of the war end, of husbands and fathers and sons returning home. 

Suddenly furious, he tore the drawer open and grabbed the medals and his coat, barreling out of his room and into the streets. 

“Tommy!” A female voice he barely recognized called out to him from the outside of the Garrison. 

He turned in time to Lizzie Stark wave a handkerchief at him, starting to walk his way. Ignoring her, he turned away and continued to walk, knowing that would be enough response to keep her from following as he walked down to the bridge. He waited at the ledge for a moment to see if anyone had followed him, but the music and merriment remained behind him as he pulled out a cigarette and looked down into the watery darkness of the Cut. 

The canal always made him think about his mother — another ghost in his life — and he wondered for a moment how much better it would be if he joined her. He wasn’t supposed to be here anyway, how easy would it be to just lean his weight forward. 

Right now, he reasoned that there were only two futures at play for him. He already saw the effects the war had on some of the other survivors, some of his comrades — the Flanders Blues. 

Danny had nightmares, and now it was starting to effect his waking hours, taking him ages to come back even after he’d already awoken. And there were others who were suffering far worse — like Barney, who had what they were now referring to as shell-shock, and Tommy feared would never be able to shake it and wondered if he’d ever leave the institution they’d admitted him in. 

Even now, Tommy could close his eyes and still hear the guns, the shouts, of shovels and picks breaking into the earth. He could feel the ever looming threat of breaking through the mud and finding the enemy — of always being so close to death.

He couldn’t even imagine a world where the things he’d seen would ever fade from his memory. The gore, the blood, the flesh. The smell of burning, of gas, of fire, of dirt, of blood. 

Whether those who’d died had found their way to a better place, Tommy no longer believed such a place existed. There was only a hell, and he’d volunteered to enter. 

The medals burned in his hand as he thought about all those ghosts — his friends, his comrades, even his enemies. They were gone, and he was here. 

He thought back to what he’d said to his brothers and comrades after they found out the war had officially ended. That this was their second life, their bonus life. Even then, Tommy wasn’t sure if he actually believed what he’d said in the throws of victory, of finding out that they weren’t going to die after accepting their fates. But now, standing over the Cut, Tommy knew that the only option for him was the second option. 

No one was ever going to put him or his family in the mud again. That one day, he’d build his family up so high that not even the King himself would be able to touch them. That was the only way they’d ever truly be able to find safety and peace. 

Lifting the medals into the street light, he read the engraving one final time before letting them slip through his fingers. He closed his eyes until he heard the expected splash. 

What he hadn’t expected to hear was a person exclaiming below the bridge. 

“Oi!” Tommy shouted, suspicion that he’d been followed creeping into his paranoid mind. “Someone down there?” 

Not waiting for a response, Tommy was already off the bridge and walking toward the underpass when he heard a woman respond. 

“You almost took me out,” the voice quipped, the body still leaning over the waters edge near where the waves were still bouncing. 

When the body straightened and turned toward him, he instantly recognized it. 

It was her — it was you. 

He breathed in deep, remembering his lit cigarette, and for a moment he had the thought that he’d actually jumped. 

Tommy could tell by the look on your face that you recognized him as well, and that the fact that you were standing there together was just as a surprise to you as it was for him.

“You were at the train station,” he tested, moving closer to the street light to get a better view and hope that it would prompt you to follow suit. Which, you did. 

The last two times he’d seen you felt different than this. Where before, even at the train station, you’d felt ethereal, otherworldly. Now, in this moment, you felt real, your body fidgeting uncomfortably as your eyes moved everywhere but refused to meet his own. He took the opportunity to get a better look at the mystery woman. 

The first thing he noticed was how different you looked now than you had in his vision. You were dressed in something similar to what his sister had been wearing earlier that evening. And while your hair seemed slightly in disarray and face looked flushed, you looked just as beautiful as you had the first time he’d seen you. 

His vision flashed before him, and he recalled the different version of you he’d seen. In his vision, you had on considerably less clothes, the recollection of your long, bare legs had him moving his eyes down your body. 

When his eyes reached back up to your face, your eyes finally met his again and a blush crept across your cheeks. Part of him wondered if you could read his thoughts. 

“I was,” you finally replied, your voice a little stronger than he’d expected. You motioned toward the water. “And you were throwing some medals into the river, yeah?” 

Sobering up, Tommy felt his back straighten a little at the notion. He hadn’t expected you to notice what exactly he’d thrown into the water. He narrowed his eyes, took a long drag of his cigarette, and made some comment about how the fish could have them. 

“Don’t think the fish’ll have much use for them,” you replied back, and he didn’t miss the way your eyes wrinkled and mouth flinched, as if holding back a smile at your own joke. 

Despite himself, the sight actually amused him enough to breathe out a shrug. “Seems we have that in common, then.” 

Not prompted at all by the thought of your legs from his vision, Tommy began to wonder how difficult it would be to persuade you to join his bed. It’d been a while since the last time he’d slept with someone. 

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he realized you’d indicated that you were leaving. He didn’t want you to leave though.

“You a whore?” He asked, reasoning that if he could pay you to stay with him, it’d be the easiest way to keep you from disappearing again. 

It wasn’t a crazy question. There weren’t many women walking around alone, at night, in Birmingham, who weren’t offering some intimate services. He knew it was where his unmarried brother and mates would be ending their nights tonight. Hell, one of them was probably giving Lizzie the attention he’d denied her at this very moment. 

He didn’t have anything against prostitutes, it was just another business transaction in his opinion. Plus, it was an easy way to have sex without the mess of feelings. 

But the way you’d rounded on him, planting your feet just a step away from him as your face contorted into something different than the one he’d just seen, his opinion on the question changed. 

You dove into a rant asking what the hell was wrong with him. 

“No, I’m not a whore!” You’d finally said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t support a woman’s choice to sell her services to men who will pay if it means making enough to survive in this God awful existence!”

Tommy chuckled, realizing that the two of you felt the same way about the profession. “So, you aren’t a whore, but you respect ‘em, is that it?”

You rolled your eyes and the sight made him want to smile again. He reasoned that this woman before him had no idea who he was — no person in Small Heath outside of his own family dared to talk to him like this, much less roll their eyes at him without the fear of his blade cutting through them, male or female. You were fearless, it seemed — or stupid. Either way, for the moment it intrigued him.

“Everyone sells part of themselves for something eventually. Sometimes it’s a woman laying on her back for a man. Sometimes it’s a man crawling through the mud for a King.” 

Your comment made Tommy shift immediately from amused and intrigued to angry. 

No, you weren’t afraid of him, but you should be. 

His eyes narrowed as he took a step closer to you, straightening his back and shoulders, expecting you to flinch. But you didn’t, and he couldn’t figure out why the refusal to back away or even break eye contact made him want to kiss you rather than punish you. 

“You should go home,” he decided to say, choosing to soften his voice instead of raise it. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop himself from scanning down your face to your lips. “The next man you meet alone, under a bridge, at night, might not be as accepting to your ideologies as I am.” He darted his tongue out to lick his own lips when you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth. While he was willing to let you get away with what you said to him this time, he still wanted to make you realize the vulnerable state you were in, how much power he really had. “If he says you’re a whore, he might treat you like one in spite of your pretty words.” 

He watched you finally react, a shiver running through you as your eyes met his again. He noticed the blush on your cheeks deepen as you took a step back, telling him you appreciated the advice before a strong breeze caused you to wrap your arms around your body. 

Tommy hadn’t even felt the cold since the minute he laid eyes on you, the adrenaline from marching down to the Cut and then finally getting to speak to you had his blood boiling. Without even realizing it, Tommy was shrugging his coat off his own shoulders and offering it to you, who hesitated slightly before accepting it. The sight of the oversized coat hanging around your shoulders made his chest tighten. He couldn’t figure out why it looked so right on you. 

Before he realized it, you were stepping away from him toward the steps of the bridge. His eyes met yours again, and something shifted behind them. Before he could ask, you welcomed him home and turned to finally disappear into the darkness, leaving him alone by the water’s edge again. 

Tommy didn’t know why he’d had a vision of you months ago. He didn’t know why he had met you tonight, or how it seemed you also knew about him. But he did know one thing — he was going to find out. 

——

Despite his initial internal promise to find out more about the mystery woman, Tommy found his attention otherwise occupied as he threw his energy into building back up the family name and reputation. And despite Polly’s insistence that they take a few days to get back in the swing of things, Tommy spent all his free time reacquainting himself with the family books, starting with the furthest back and moving his way forward. He was happy to discover that true to her letters, Polly had been keeping the betting business going with no qualms. Even with the amount of men in the war, there was enough steady flow of cash to keep everything afloat. 

The family business side of things hadn’t been as lucky. While still viable thanks in part to members of their gang who hadn’t enlisted, there had definitely been a drop in income. Tommy made a note of all the people he was going to need to visit. 

He could feel Polly hovering as he read through the books throughout the days. Having grown up with his aunt practically raising him, he knew how overprotective she was over her kin, so part of him thought nothing of it at first. 

He was nearly done with all the books, finally getting halfway through this year’s ledgers, when he discovered the real reason for Polly’s hovering. 

“Polly!” he shouted from his office, standing up and grabbing both books he’d been looking at before moving into the kitchen. He threw the first book open on the table in front of his aunt and pointed to the margins. “Who the fuck’s handwriting is this?” 

“Tommy—“ Polly began, moving quickly to close the doors to the bustling betting den. 

“Who the fuck’s handwriting is this, hmm?” He tapped against the book pages harder, leaning against the table as Polly closed the other doors, concealing them from any eyes or ears that may have followed Tommy’s tirade. “Fuckin’ answer me, Pol.” 

“I hired someone, alright Thomas?” her voice answered softly in contrast to his volume as she shook her head, waving him off. “You didn’t expect after all this time that we wouldn’t bring in new help.” 

Tommy threw a second book on top of the first and pointed again at the same handwriting in the margins. “And what is the same fucking handwriting doin’ in the family book, eh?”

Polly held his gaze. 

“Did an estranged family member show up while we were away? Perhaps a bastard looking for a father, or a long lost brother?”

She didn’t answer, her eyes narrowing at her nephew’s condescending questions as he went on, taking her silence as a no. 

“Okay then, how ‘bout a new uncle? Did you get married and you just forgot to bloody mention it, Pol? Is there a new last name we should be calling ‘ya?”

“No,” Polly answered straight, crossing her arms defensively as Tommy rose up. 

“No,” Tommy repeated as a mock and his body mirrored hers, crossing his own arms. “So, there is a non-family member auditing our family books then, yeah?” 

“Yes,” Polly answered again. 

Tommy took a deep breath, trying not to let his aunt’s stubbornness rile him up. There was information she was keeping from him, that she’d been keeping from him, and he wanted to know everything immediately. 

“Go on, Pol,” he went on, his voice still even despite its rise a few moments ago. “Tell me what you were thinking.” 

Polly held Tommy’s gaze for a moment before finally relenting, taking a deep breath that matched his own. 

“She’s a friend of Ada’s—“

“Fucking hell—“ Tommy’s eyes shot upward as he felt his entire body groan at the mention of his sister. 

He loved Ada, but the girl had never shown any interest in their business, either business, her entire life. In fact, the girl had never taken anything serious, so he couldn’t imagine the kind of company she chose. 

“She’s smart, Thomas,” Polly insisted, the use of his full name showing her seriousness. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to him. “Here, see for yourself. That’s a list of everyone who has tried to steal or skim money from us since she started.”

Tommy opened the paper, and immediately recognized most of the names. Two had been men he’d hired himself years ago. 

“It started with the betting books. Then I gave her one of our books just to see if she could spot anything. She didn’t know what it meant, just told her to cross check names and numbers.”

Tommy took another deep breath, “If she’s so smart, how do you know she didn’t know what it meant, eh? How do you know you can trust her?”

“Ask around,” she offered. “You’ll come to the same conclusion I did.”

“Where is she now?”

“I told her to stay away until you made your decision.”

“What decision is that? Whether to invite her back or kill her?” Polly’s eyes narrowed, and the reaction actually surprised him. He scoffed, “Really, ‘ave you gone soft on us now, Pol?”

She held her glare before raising her hand. “Just— just look into her first. Do that, and I’ll tell you everything I’ve learned. But, be discreet. Her employment was and still is a secret. Plenty of men were angry when we started taking care of that list.”

Tommy noticed some of the names next to the list had symbols next to them, understanding the meaning behind them. The two men he’d brought in both had black stars next to theirs. 

“Any threats?” Without realizing, Tommy began to take a closer look at Polly, searching for any new cuts, scars, or faded bruises. 

She scoffed, smiling as she shook her head. “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

Tommy took a deep breath, taking another look at the list. This really was impressive, and he was curious how exactly the girl had come to discover all of this. He’d paid close attention to her notes in the margins of the books and could already believe Polly’s insistence of her intelligence. 

But that didn’t mean she was trustworthy. This wouldn’t be the first time they’d been double crossed or infiltrated by an enemy or copper. 

“Fine. You’ve got a deal,” he finally said, folding the list up and putting it in his own pocket. “Just tell me her name.”

“Y/N.”

——

It didn’t take long for Tommy to find out where this Y/N lived and worked. Not only was the number of people moving into Small Heath minimal, but especially young women. 

Tommy had been avoiding the pubs since he came home, he still wasn’t ready to dive back into the crowds. But he heard the rumors of a pretty, out-of-town barmaid at the Garrison, and his curiosity finally won over. 

He thought his chances would be better if he went over early, and despite being gone for a few years, the old pub hadn’t changed a bit. Which meant, he knew exactly which nook and cranny to hide inconspicuously while the afternoon bustle began to ramp up. 

So far, it was just Harry tending the bar, the sitting area still sparse enough for one person to manage. Tommy watched as a couple men filtered in and out of the snug, and an idea began to formulate as he waited. 

He’d always liked the Garrison — it was conveniently closer to the house than any of the other pubs in the area, and it was slowly becoming the heart of the town for the everyday man. Presumably, all were welcome, even the men who preferred pubs that catered more toward the commies or Fenians. 

And he liked Harry. The man had never treated he or his family any different for being gypsies — Tommy chalked that up to him coming from Irish travelers himself. Even after Harry began to pay the Shelbys for their protection, he’d still treated them without some of the passive aggressive bitterness that some other patrons held. There was always a layer of respect, of common sense, and even a hint of humor that Tommy always appreciated. 

Even now, when Harry found him sitting in the dark corner of the bar with his paper raised like a shield, he hadn’t questioned and didn’t bring attention, an unspoken understanding it seemed and instead simply dropped a tumbler down in front of him and kept an eye on its fill level. And as if the man needed any more of a reason, Harry had fought in the war, up until he was sent home, and Tommy respected any man who fought for his country.

Yes, Tommy liked Harry, and decided in that moment to make the Garrison the Shelbys official pub.

He was beginning to formulate the deal proposal when the office door to his right opened and a body emerged. He pulled back up his racing paper, lowering it just enough so he could take in the backside form of a young woman as the door closed behind her and she walked toward the bar. He tried to listen as the women sat a book on the counter in front of Harry. The owner scratched his head as he looked at the page and shrugged. Tommy could read Harry’s lips as he shoved the book back toward the woman and told her he trusted her. She grabbed it and practically skipped away from the counter, obviously happy with the outcome of the exchange, and turned back toward the office door. 

It was you. 

The girl from his vision, from the train station, from the Cut. 

You were Y/N. 

Tommy felt his blood run cold at the realization and froze as you continued to look down at the book and walked right back into the office. You hadn’t seen him this time, and for that he was grateful. 

Because right now, he was angry. 

Who the hell were you, and what right did you have invading his space like this? First his mind, then his home, and now his business? Who the hell did you think you were? 

His blood turned from ice to a boil as he stood up and stormed out of the front door. Tommy could feel Harry’s gaze follow him with a silent question that he knew better than to ask. 

Tommy’s feet took him to the person who led him there: his aunt. 

Polly was near the fire, stacking some of the logs from the shed in preparation for a cold night. It was mid-December now, and the days were growing shorter than ever. All outdoor chores had to be done before supper and Polly always liked to get everything squared up and out of the way before she had to begin.

She heard Tommy storm in through the front door, she could always identify the sound of his footsteps over his brothers, even at a young age. He was heavy in the heels and he was always in a hurry, walking with his shoulders forward. Polly took it as a sign that he would be a leader one day, always firm in his resolve and destined to forever chase a dream bigger than himself. 

“Welcome back,” she said evenly, already feeling his attitude before he even made it through the doorway. 

Tommy didn’t answer her, only moved to close the door behind him, and then the betting doors, despite the house being quiet at the moment. 

Polly wiped her hands on her skirt and rose to look at her nephew, the sight bringing a crease to her brow. 

Tommy was always composed, the number of times she hadn’t seen him so could be counted on one hand. But now, in front of her, she could add another count to her list as she reached for him. 

“Tommy,” she started calmly, urging him to sit before taking the seat next to him. She was trying to decipher if his expression was one of anger, shock, or something worse. “Tell me, what is it?”

His eyes finally flicked up to his aunt, and the anger returned. “Y/N.”

Polly took in a deep breath, more of the picture starting to fall in place as her back straightened. “You saw her?”

He nodded. 

“You talked to her?”

He shook his head. 

Polly licked her lips and tightened them. “Why not?”

Tommy ran a hand over his face and assessed his aunt. He was contemplating whether he should tell her his vision. Polly was more in tune to visions and spirits than he was. And despite his outward skepticism of most things religious or religious adjacent, there was something deep within him that was never able to fully dismiss some of the mysteries that came from the Romani people. That’s why he was always respectful toward old gypsy women, and took extra caution to his aunt’s warnings. Same with Curly, his Uncle Charlie, and even his mother back in the day. Whether it was real or just something familiar from his upbringing, he knew without a doubt his aunt could have some insight into all this. 

Hell, she probably already had some insight. It wasn’t lost on him that his aunt often knew things that he didn’t. And while usually that was something he trusted to use to the family’s advantage, right now he wanted to know everything. 

“We’ve already met,” he decided to begin there, not totally lying but not divulging the whole truth yet. “The night we returned, down by the Cut. It wasn’t exactly the best of introductions.”

“Oh Thomas, tell me you didn’t —“

His brow creased at her response, noticing the look on her face and realizing what she must have thought. He breathed out of his nose, “Nothing like that, Pol. We just talked. I did ask if she was a whore and she nearly pushed me in the water.”

The corner of Polly’s lips flew into a smirk as she tried to refrain from chuckling. It was difficult though, she could only imagine what that must have looked like. 

“Tell me what you know,” he continued, back to business. “This girl keeps showing up in my life and I want to know why.”

Polly took a deep breath, her smile turning serious as she leaned back in her chair. He wondered if she caught his use of the word ‘keeps’ and would push on it. 

She didn’t, for now at least. “I told you I would tell you once you found out more for yourself.”

“I’ll keep looking into her — discreetly,” he added when he saw she was about to remind him of her secrecy. “But right now I know enough and if I don’t hear what you have to say it might make things worse.”

The anger he was feeling before crept back up. He thought about facing you again in this state, and truly he wasn’t sure how he’d react. Part of him believed he’d just torture you into telling what you wanted from him, who you were working for, what your game was. The other part of him believed he’d fling you over his shoulder and bring you to his bedroom. Both of which would be unhelpful to his current situation. 

Something bigger was going on here. He could feel it. And he wanted to know what. 

Polly was watching him during his internal battle and could sense his edge. She took a deep breath before nodding. “I believe she’s gypsy,” she stated simply. “Maybe not bred, but by blood.”

Tommy hadn’t expected Polly’s big insight to be this. He restrained himself from scoffing. “That’s it? Just because she might be gypsy you think she’s trustworthy to be privy to our family books?”

Yes, Tommy and his family came from a long line of Romani blood. But that didn’t mean it held any stock with him. Outside of his own family and extended family, other gypsies would be some of the last people Tommy would trust. 

“I think she has a gift, Thomas,” Polly continued seriously. “The first day I saw her, the day she met Ada, she predicted the end of the war months before it happened. To the day.”

Tommy’s brow creased. “One correct guess and suddenly she’s a fortune teller?”

“It’s not just that. There was gossip when she first arrived. Mrs. Tully was chirping about a batty new tenant who finally arrived in the empty lodgings they’d been keeping. Said she acted like she’d been living under a rock all her life — didn’t even act like she knew there was a war going on. Strange that a girl who barely knew about the war could guess the exact date of its end, isn’t it?”

Tommy made a mental note to add Mrs. Tully to his list of people to question. “I suppose. But still doesn’t sound concrete to me.”

“Perhaps, but there’s one piece that solidified my guess,” Polly replied, straightening in her seat. “She has a tattoo on her back — I only caught a glimpse but I’m sure of what I saw. I’ve seen the symbol before, once, when I was a girl. The crest of the Delphi family.”

Tommy’s shoulders squared at the name. He, like most gypsies, were familiar with the name and the crest. It was one of the oldest Romani families still around, and there was a reason for that. Their age and their affinity for fortune telling deepened their pockets enough to provide them with muscle and protection. They were ruthless when wronged, and their leader was said to unleash unimaginable curses on her enemies. 

And according to Polly — you, his mystery woman, had their symbol branded on your back. 

He ran through the possibilities of what this could mean in his head. You could have been a family member who ran away, or a slave to one of the leaders. Polly had mentioned she didn’t think you were brought up in the gypsy life, and from the little bit of interaction he had with you, he was inclined to agree. There had to be a connection between this woman, this family, and his dream. Which was beginning to feel more and more like a curse, or an omen to stay away. 

But then, why did every instinct fuel him to get closer, to find out more?

He got up from the kitchen table and began walking back toward the pub. He ignored Polly’s call behind him, obviously worried he’d do something irrational. 

But Tommy was beginning to form a plan, a battle strategy, if you will. To defeat the enemy, you had to know the enemy. And whether Y/N fell in that definition for him or not, he needed to gather as much as he could before he made any call. 

Over the next day, he managed to speak with Harry while avoiding you. It was easier to ask about you in the pretense of dangling a business proposal, claiming that he needed to trust his employees as much as the owner when it came to matters like this. 

“Oh, ‘ya shouldn’t ‘ave a problem there,” Harry had told him. 

“Forgive me for askin’, Harry, it’s just you don’t normally give jobs to women. Especially pretty women.” 

Harry breathed out of his nose before waving his hand dismissively. “Findin’ anyone to work when I got back was bloody impossible, mate. And when I finally could find help, even if they was a girl, they’d end up spending more time makin’ their own money on the side, if’ya know what I mean.” Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “But let me tell ‘ya, Y/N’s been a dream since she showed up.” 

Tommy’s back tightened at the use of phrase. 

“She came in with all these ideas and improvements, ‘processes’ she calls ‘em. I tell ‘ya, I ‘aven’t met a more educated woman before in my life. I fought the changes at first, but dammit I can’t fight against less waste and more money. Oh, and don’t worry — I made sure she wasn’t a prostitute. Asked her ‘for I hired her.”

The corner of Tommy’s cheek rose slightly at the comment, curious if he’d been the latest of a long line of people asking her the same question. 

“And you’re sure?” Tommy asked, just to scratch a curiosity. “Not even recreationally?”

Despite himself, Tommy couldn’t keep out the thought of your blushed cheeks down at the Cut, the way you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, and the bareness of your legs in his vision. He adjusted in his seat before forcing his mind to stop before it went too far, noting to make an appointment with Lizzie the next time he saw her. 

Harry shrugged, oblivious to Tommy’s internal struggle. “She’s nice to the men at the bar, enough to keep the place calm and in good spirits. But I’ve ‘eard her turn down enough of ‘em to know she’s not interested in making an extra bob like that. Only once did I ‘ave to throw a man out for trying anything on her, and that was after she’d already damaged his boys herself. After that, the men seemed to get the message. She’s pretty though, and a good barmaid — think that’s why they keep comin’ back.” 

Tommy breathed a short breath of amusement out of his nose at the thought of you fighting. Granted, he’d seen enough fights between Ada and John to know that women would hit where ever they could to get the upper hand in combat, and he didn’t blame her. 

“I promise ‘ya, Tom,” Harry had continued talking. “You can trust her. Whatever business you want to do with me, Y/N could only make it better.” 

“Give me a week to make my own assessment,” Tommy replied. They ironed out the stipulations of how Tommy could make such an assessment and agreed to keep it secret. He could sense Harry’s hesitation, and he wondered if it was out of protectiveness or something else. 

But eventually, a handshake sealed the agreement and Tommy promised to have the deal finalized and ready by the time he finished.

A little more than a week later, and Tommy came to three absolute conclusions about you. 

First: you had a secret. He could tell predominately by the way you talked to people and by the way you carried yourself when you thought people were looking. It wasn’t obvious — in fact, it’s subtlety was one of the more glaring identifiers to someone who was looking as closely as Tommy was. 

Second: you weren’t a threat. At least, not to his family or their operation. Aside from the Garrison, your lodgings, the local grocer, and the bath house that he knew Ada frequented, you didn’t have any odd routes that previous coppers narcs had taken in the past. Y/N hardly had a life outside of the pub, Tommy realized, and found it strange. You didn’t go out with any men or friends, the way other women your age did. Hell, even Ada managed to leave the house at least twice a week to go out with her friends. But not you. 

You were especially less threatening when he caught you on the first night you were closing up the pub since he began his investigation. Everything was going as expected, until about an hour into the clean up when you began to sing. From his spot (which he’d managed to obtain permission from Harry to watch from with the promise that he wouldn’t do anything unsavory or harmful) he could see and watch as you sang some foreign song and danced around frivolously with your broomstick. 

It was hard to imagine you as some nefarious mastermind after watching you slip on a spot of tobacco spit on the floor while extending your arm in front of you and clasping your hand together, then jumping in the air as you shook your fist while singing some repetitive salutations to an invisible audience. 

That had actually caused him to laugh, something he hadn’t done genuinely and wholeheartedly since returning to Birmingham. 

The last conclusion Tommy made while watching you was the oddest, he thought. 

You didn’t smoke. At all. 

He didn’t know anyone who didn’t smoke. Hell, even Finn had been caught smoking a handful of times since the brothers returned. And he was ten years old. 

Tommy chalked the last observation up to the air of posh-ness he sensed you possessed. He felt strangely drawn to it, and after your odd drinking game after he finally approached you did it only increase. 

He still couldn’t quite get a read on you. There was an innocence he could see about you, especially when it came to your understanding of who he was and his place in this world. On the other hand, your eyes held a heavy weight to them that warned him not to underestimate you. That there was wisdom mixed with the innocence that he couldn’t quite detangle. 

He’d gauged your reaction to his reveal that he’d dreamed about you. You’d been genuinely surprised, though that hadn’t brought him much reassurance. If anything, it made him more frustrated by the series of events, especially when he had to use every ounce of resistance not to kiss you.

You'd given him all the signs — hell, he probably could have bed you that night if he’d asked to walk you to your bedroom. But you weren’t just some random woman or a prostitute. He’d asked you to officially work again for their company, for their family. He couldn’t be flippant with his more primitive instincts with you.

Plus, if there was something more going on here, something deeper, he wanted to make sure he had all the answers before he made himself too vulnerable. He had not only himself, but his family to think about.

After he left you at Mrs. Tully’s, he began his search for Johnny Dogs, determined that some kind of explanation had to be found in the Delphi camp. 

But now, you and him were here. And Tommy felt just as confused and frustrated as he had when they first met. 

Just get through the night, Tommy told himself as he led a freaked out you toward the jovial crowd of gypsies dancing around the bon fire. The time for secrets must end. 

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

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[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

"Time & the Trickster" A Loki/Doctor Who crossover

Chapter 5: Boston

You hit another dead end when you arrive in Massachusetts. While Joey hunts for a way to get you over the ocean, you face the most frightening prospect yet: sharing a bed with Loki...alone.

CHAPTER WARNING: "oh look, only one bed" trope

Previous Chapter · Next Chapter MASTERLIST

Regent’s Park, London, England June 12 11:52pm GMT

Hopeless. It was certainly hopeless. 

Of course, it was hopeless that time the Daleks tried to take over the Earth via a slew of deadly reality shows.

It was also hopeless when Rose was lost to the alternate reality forever.

Not to mention, the feeling of existential dread that had happened when The Master aged him near to death, and he had to rely on Martha Jones alone to travel around the world on foot to be saved. 

Usually, The Doctor did well with hopelessness. However, without the TARDIS showing any signs of life, things were quickly going from ‘hopeless’ to ‘finished.’ 

And The Doctor did NOT do well with ‘finished.’

Even his screwdriver had no power here. People thought he was a man in costume waving a toy around. In order to avoid the eye of the police, he learned quickly that he;’d have to get out of this one “the human way,” which basically meant sitting around and waiting for a miracle. 

He felt as if he were in mourning, his TARDIS in her final resting place in this forsaken reality, where even the most bloodthirsty extraterrestrials had all seemed to ignore Sol 3. Would he be trapped here? Forced to live for thousands of years more in a fixed timeline, nowhere to explore? No one to rescue? 

Nearing midnight, he sat on the ground, his back up against the TARDIS, looking up into the starless night, wondering if miracles were possible in what had to be the Timeline at the End of the Universe itself. 

Suddenly, the TARDIS breathed once more, just once. A pulse of dim green glow radiated from the door’s windows, causing The Doctor to immediately spring to his feet.

“Oh, please come back…what cowboys have we got going on here?” He circled the box once, twice, three times, until the green light dimmed again to where it was nearly imperceptible, aside to the Time Lord’s own hyper-keen eye. 

“Clom’s blue soil, what is going on?” he mouthed. “What are you trying to tell me? That’s something’s coming?”

Perhaps, something was drawing closer, and it was giving the TARDIS itself hope…

Boston, Massachusetts June 12 6:52pm EST

You managed, by the grace of Fate, to procure a somewhat-comfortable hotel room for $80 a night. With careful calculation, you figured that you could spend a week in Boston if you found a cheap grocery store and walked everywhere. That would give you some time to track down all of Joey’s friends in the city to find a way out of it. 

While the room was clean and cozy, it was sparsely furnished, with a television set that looked too old for the Cleaver Family in the corner. Everything came in tones of puke-green and piss-yellow. A highly-stylized divider separated the doorway from the rest of the room, designed to look like a set of wrought-iron loops.

“Well, I’m taking the couch,” said Joey, bouncing his ass up and down on the mattress of the only queen-sized bed in the room. “These spring-mattresses really do a number on my back!”

Your jaw dropped. “You slept on a second hand sofa before today, jackass!” Loki was in the bathroom, so you were able to speak freely to your brother, at least for a few moments. 

“So?” Joey said with a wink. “I thought you’d be more comfortable on the bed anyways.” 

 “But where will he sleep?” you pointed furiously to the bathroom door. 

“The bed!” 

Your heart may as well have fallen into your stomach. “Joey, fuck that! You’re crossing a line!”

“But you’re getting along with him so well,” he said in a mocking singsong voice only a bratty younger brother could produce. “I thought maybe you’d--”

Joey dove over the bed when you instantly grabbed the nearest pillow to chick angrily at his face. “--you don't think he’d have something to say about it??” 

“Say about what?” Loki asked, suddenly appearing in the open doorway, his green shirt pulled sloppily over his torso and clinging to his wet chest. His legs were bare aside from the white towel wrapped around his hips. Your skin went hot, and it was all you could do to keep the beads of nervous sweat from forming on your face. 

“I can’t sleep on that, Lokes,” Joey stepped in before you could tell him yourself. “You and Y/N are sharing the bed. I’ll take the couch.” 

“Alright,” Loki said instantly, looking at you with a quick, agreeable smile. “As long as you’re also agreeable, of course.”

Was it possible to leave one’s body without outright dying? It was as if you ejected your own soul, and you were nothing left but a cold, nervous shall while your spirit flew around the room, whooping excitedly. 

What to say? How to respond? 

“...yeah.” 

The evening was spent sharing boxes of cheap takeout and discussing how to go about procuring transport.

“We can’t fly,” said Joey just before slurping back a noodle with no consideration for manners. “He doesn’t have papers, and good luck getting him any.”

“So we illegally cross international borders?!” you nearly screamed. “And an ocean?”

“What other choice do we have? Not like the two of us are staying, anyway.” He put the messy takeout box on the desk beside him. “I think I can see if Paulie can’t get someone to get us across on a boat.”

“A boat!” you moaned, tossing your head back with an exaggerated groan. 

“What’s wrong with a boat?” asked Loki, raising an eyebrow. 

“Getting to England on a boat could take weeks!” you answered, “Easily, in fact!” 

His right leg began bouncing up and down impatiently, triggered by the suggestion. “And we cannot simply stow away on an airplane? Or perhaps I could use my resemblance one last time to secure--”

“--no,” you finally put your foot down. You looked him sternly in the eye and leaned over, taking his hand in both of yours, gripping them tightly enough to demonstrate that you meant business. “Loki, we’re risking enough as it is flaunting you around trains and pawn shops. You cannot do that anymore. It’s too dangerous.” 

“As it so happens,” said Joey, “I might already know a guy, if he’s the one Paulie knows.” 

Rolling your eyes, you groaned. “Bullshit.” 

“He has a 50-foot yacht with international flags. I bet if I go out to see him and Paulie tomorrow, he can give us a fair price for a one-way passage for him, and two round-trips for us.” 

Loki looked at you with concern. “If it’s the only way--” he cut himself off and looked about the room, as if looking for a sign. You got the feeling he was looking for more evidence of his timelines entangling with one another, as he theorized. 

You bit your lip. “I still think we should all try and get menial jobs and find a way to…ugh…falsify his papers.”

Normally, the mere idea of breaking the law beyond smoking a bowl of weed with Joey before bed made you nervous enough to induce a stroke. That said, if it would get Loki to where he needed to be quickly enough, perhaps it would be the lesser of two evils in the end. 

Joey sighed. “Sis, I may be prone so the occasional petty rule breaking--”

“--Joey, the district attorney knows how many nose hairs you have--”

“--but even I don't know where to get phony passports, sorry,” he shrugged and exaggerated a stupid expression. 

You weren’t sure how to feel about how nervous Loki looked. He was supposed to be able to come up with a solution on the fly. He was a trickster! The brain! What did they DO to him at this TVA? He appeared to be on the absolute edge of fear at that moment. Usually, he was an expert at concealing his doubts.

“Loki?” you asked meekly. “How are you feeling?”

He pressed his lips together in a face you weren’t sure how to interpret.  “Better to take our time and do this right, I suppose.” 

You wanted to reach out and touch his arm, but your shyness was in control at present, perhaps to protect yourself from things going too far. Instead you made a comment. “I hate seeing you so afraid.” 

He sucked in a breath. “I am not the being those films showed you.”

“I know.” 

“Never in my millennia have I been on the same level as humans,” he went on. “Even the energy within me feels…well, less.”

“Hey, now wait a second there, Lokes,” Joey spoke up, straightening his posture and puffing out his chest, “Just because you can’t bibbity-boppity-boo your way out of this mess doesn’t mean it’s cool to talk about us like that!”

You couldn’t help but agree with your brother. Loki’s assertion that being mortal was somehow an inferior existence humiliated you, but it also angered you. “I can’t spark away my problems like you, but who spent her last hundred bucks freeing your godly ass from a holding cell? Who, against all her better judgment, chose to take a chance on you in the first place?” 

Offended, you got up and decided that you needed to get out and take a walk somewhere, anywhere, just to cool off enough to keep face in front of Loki. You grabbed your card key from the coffee table and swiftly went out onto the porch of the motel, overlooking the nearly-empty parking lot. 

The sun was still high above the artificial horizon formed by the distant skyscrapers and billboards. Two young men were getting out of a classic Chevy Impala, carrying backpacks and looking particularly tired as they bickered back and forth. The only other movement at all was from the occasional car driving by the place. This must’ve been the only sparsely-populated part of Boston. 

You heard a door open behind you, and you scrunch your nose in embarrassment, expecting Loki to ask how he offended you. 

“Seems he’s not the only drama queen around here, Sis.”

You couldn’t help but smile, relieved and thankful you had a brother who gave enough of a shit to make sure you didn’t bolt into Boston traffic (not that you were planning to). 

“I don't think he meant anything jerky by it,” Joey continued, leaning over the railing next to you, looking out as the two men with the Impala checked into a room on the first floor. “He’s literally not from our reality. He doesn’t get it.” 

“I know,” you sighed. 

You felt him wrap his arm around your shoulders. 

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been out of town, hasn’t it?” he added. 

You nodded quietly. Somehow, Boston didn’t feel all that different from Syracuse. Bigger, obviously, and the vague smell of sea air coming from the harbor was a welcome change from the polluted local lake that always made the north side reek like shit in August. 

Joey tried again. “You’re letting him fluster you so much because you want him.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” you barked back defensively, looking away. 

“He’s leaving once we figure this out,” Joey reminded you. “You think you can go with him when he does, don’t you?”

Honestly, the thought hadn’t consciously occurred to you, but you had to admit that the idea was thrilling. Jetting off into a whole new timeline with Loki leading the way, seeing all of the things that your race had only invented in their heads come to life and greet you! 

“You can’t,” Joey insisted. “Because even if you try to, don’t you think the same thing will happen to you that’s happening to him?”

“What thing?” you asked. 

“He’s jittery! He’s not the dashing Prince you fawned over at the movies, Sis,” he answered, gesturing with his head to the window. “There’s something about him that feels, I don’t know…lost. He has to get home and do whatever it is he needs to do.”

Loki hadn’t told you exactly how he intended to fix the timelines when he returned, but he seemed solemnly resigned to it. You made a note to ask for him to elaborate on it, because the more you thought about it, the more it felt like whatever awaited Loki back in his native realm wasn’t good for him. 

It’s that Sylvie, you thought bitterly. If nothing else, I could go back there to smack her upside her head!

“Um, Sis,” Joey interjected, his eye catching something in the lot below. “Does…does that Impala look familiar to you?”

Your eyes widened as your panic alarms turned on in your head. “Turn away and pretend you didn’t see it,” you quickly insisted, gripping your card key and running to insert it into your door. “We’re booked solid!”

Joey decided to go spend the night with Paulie instead of curling up on the rock-hard sofa. “Maybe I can get some information out of him so you won’t even have to see him, Sis!”

“Fine by me,” you mumbled quietly, your exhaustion finally catching up with you. 

Of course, that meant that as soon as Joey took his leave, you were alone with Loki in a hotel room. Oh boy, if only myself from five years ago could see me now…

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” Loki said quickly. “About how awful it feels to be mortal.” 

“I overreacted,” you shook your head quickly, attempting to get past the residue embarrassment you felt once you’d calmed down from before. “I need to accept that we’re just…we’re too different, and that you’re simply better than me, and--”

“--oh, stop it!” Loki moaned, grabbing your shoulders and looking intensely into your eyes. “Don’t let me hear you talk about yourself like that. It’s a lie.”

Shaking your head, you ripped yourself out of his grasp and turned away from him, biting your lower lip to keep the emotions at bay. 

Loki didn’t touch you again, but he went on. “You and your brother have done more for me in the past few days than most of the gods of Asgard have ever thought to do! You gave me your own bed to sleep in!”

You shrugged. “Just what any decent person would do.” 

He smiled silently, his lip twisted up adorably. You couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m tired.”

“So am I,” Loki agreed. “Shall we?” He gestured to the bed, as if beckoning you to join him for a lively romp now that you were alone. Your blood instantly ran hot, and Loki saw the embarrassment spread on your face. “Oh Norns, I didn’t mean to suggest--”

You threw up a hand, suddenly not wanting to ruin the opportunity. “It’s fine! Really!”

Although, you wouldn’t have minded tif he had made the suggestion, either…

The unseasonably hot weather had motivated you to pack only a slip for sleeping. In your haste to shove everything into a duffel bag, you hadn’t stopped to consider the consequences of your choice of pajama. Still hoping to preserve a little bit of modesty (given the circumstances), you put on the slip, but layered it with a baggy black t-shirt, which was less than flattering to make up for the fact that your slip barely covered your privates or your ass.

Loki didn’t seem to mind. In fact, much to your surprise, he seemed to respond to it. “Well, now I don’t feel so bad about my lack of sleepwear, if this is the tradition in this reality.” 

You opened your mouth to explain how it wasn’t tradition. Before you uttered a word, he let the towel that was wrapped around his waist fall to the floor before he swiftly climbed into the bed.

 Jesus Christ, we never bought him underwear! 

You definitely saw his…things, but only in the nanoseconds it took for the swift Asgardian to roll under the sheets. He winked at you playfully as you climbed in beside him, much slower and with more caution. 

“You are fine with this?” he asked one last time. 

“Yes!” you said a little too quickly. To hide the ever-growing embarrassment, you dove under the blanket and burrowed yourself up to your nose. Loki turned off the lamp on the side table, leaving you in complete blackness as your eyes attempted to adjust to the change in lighting.

The bed was creaky and the sheets were coarse. “Loki?” you asked after several seconds of silence in the dark as you rolled onto your side to face him. 

He was already on his side facing you in turn, as if you’d beaten him to asking the first question. “Yes, Y/N?”

“You never sleep in the movies,” you said softly. “You’re always pursuing and chasing and running. Did you ever…I don’t know…slow down and stop to feel the Universe turn?”

Loki was unresponsive. His breathing was deep and regular, and your pupils were beginning to adjust to the darkness, so you were starting to make out his silhouette. 

“Loki?”

“I’m sorry. No one’s ever asked me that before.” 

An ambulance drove by outside, the screeching sirens making you cringe. Loki’s side of the bed rustled slightly. 

“No, I suppose I never have.” 

“You mean you don’t sleep?”

“Of course I sleep,” Loki chuckled, “But what I don't do is…slow down.” 

You smiled. “Maybe you should.” 

“I cannot afford that luxury, I’m afraid.” His voice grew weary in an instant, as if centuries of his past were rushing through his head like a river of rapids and he was choosing to surrender to them. “Not now, not when existence itself lies on my back.” 

“What if it doesn’t, and you’re just being dramatic again?” you asked. 

You heard him click his tongue as he searched for a retort. “I assure you, it’s not that.”

“I’m sorry I asked.”

“Don’t be.”

“It’s just,” you couldn’t help but go off, just a little, “I guess I was always hoping that if Loki was real, he wouldn’t be treated so poorly all of the time, and that maybe your life wasn’t such a shit heap…”

The choice of descriptor caught Loki off guard, and he let out a laugh big enough to shake the bed. 

“Tell me, Y/N,” he said gently after settling down again, “What does this world think of me?”

You sucked in your breath, and your heart began to pick up speed. “A lot of people do admire you, but not necessarily as their hero.”

“A curious answer,” Loki replied. “You had the figure of me in your kitchen, and when I asked you about it, you turned away as if you were embarrassed, and I was only wondering if--”

As if someone behind you was shoving your head, you moved in and quickly interrupted his thoughts with a kiss. Loki didn’t pull away or fight back, choosing instead to accept your gift and respond in kind. Feeling a pair of gentle fingers run down the side of your face and tracing a trail down your neck, you began to tremble as your body found renewed energy.

You finally drew your lips away and whispered softly, “...more like that.” 

“I…I see.” 

You immediately turned away from him without another word, unsure if you were filling up with regret or excitement. Either way, you needed to shut it all down. 

Still, you heard him coo from next to you. “...sleep tight, Y/N.” 

You carried his words with the kiss into your dreams. It was the fittest sleep you’d had in years. 

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[vulto-cor-de-rosa]

All the Doctors that I've watched and if I would feel safe traveling with them or not

Nine

Absolutely he's my favorite

Doctor Doc Martins and I would get along extremely well

We would travel and have a blast

He would look out for me and be concerned for my safety

Treats well all of his companions (Rose, Mickey (yes he's a companion to me) and Jack) so would tread me well too

The only doctor that has a 0% companion mortality rate

9/10 would probably still die but wouldn't be his fault

Ten

Fuck no

I love him but I don't feel safe with that man

Series 2 he only cares for one person and that is Rose Tyler

Would immediately die because he's too preoccupied making heart eyes at her to even learn my name

Series 3 he's too heart broken

You've seen how he treated Martha and Jack I would be dead in my first episode and he would still not know my name

Series 4 maybe but I wouldn't put my money on making out of it alive

Would learn my name before my death tho

None of his companions ended up dead but one of them is in another dimension, three of them are soldiers (one was studying to become a doctor (bla bla he turned someone who was meant to save lives to someone that takes them bla bla)) and another has no memories

4/10 but only because he's pretty

Eleven

Absolutely not

The amount of times this guy let Rory die or almost die? Too many to count

My boy Rory almost dies in every episode the only thing keeping him going is his wife's love for him

And unfortunately I don't have a wife

Left Amy to wait for 12 years asshole move

Do you feel safe? I don't feel safe

Admittedly, until now, he's the doctor with the smallest body count but knowing what I heard around that's going to change

Makes too many bad decisions and is very absentminded

Haven't finished his run yet so idk what happens to Amy and Rory but I hope they both make it out live with the smallest amount of trauma possible

3/10 I feel like he would forget me and end up with me dead I'm too Rory coded and, as stated before, I don't have an Amy to keep me alive

All of this is in good fun I don't mean to offend anyone. At the end of they day they're all my babygirls and I like them very much. I'll probably make a new one when I finish eleven's run :}

#rosa's garden #doctor who #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #eleventh doctor #the doctor #david tennant #matt smith #christopher eccleston

[bruciemilf]

Hi, the anon that sent the Duke ask here. I’ll start signing off with “🐌” every time so you’ll know it’s me. :)

Anyway to add onto my idea: what if ghosts couldn’t remember their final moments? What if they think that they’re still alive? What if instead of being vengeful over their deaths or watching over Bruce, they’re stuck—bits of their memory missing like those few last puzzle pieces that you can’t find no matter where you look.

Think about how that would affect Duke. Duke who’s new to Wayne manor and is still figuring out who he is and where his place is amongst the bat family, starting to see dead people around them. Going on with daily life as though they’re memories rather than spirits.

He can just ignore them. Act as though he didn’t see anything super natural of the sort. But a part of him feels obligated to help Thomas and Martha; it’s the least he can do after Bruce has been so wonderful to him.

But how?

—🐌

I think it’d be really sweet if, maybe, Thomas and Martha can’t remember certain notes and elements from their life, like a lost translation of a written poem, told before and told again, buffering with interruptions, but they remember Bruce very well.

I can imagine Duke, not helpless, never helpless, but guileless and directionless and lost between shore and ocean, just wanting a shepherd. A line. A clue.

And Thomas? Thomas relates. Imagine Duke escaping to the roof, wanting to be lonely, but not alone, and being comforted by his ghost grandpa :(( wahh.

“It feels like I’m taking someone else’s place. Like… Someone better could be here instead of me. I took a spot meant for someone great, and I’m just,” he gulps, “Not that person.”

“Yet. But you’ll get there. At your time. “

“But how?”

“Kiddo, if there’s one good thing about Gotham city,” Thomas’ touch feels ghoulish and warm both, “is that no one can tell you what you are. You just become that, and don’t let anyone take it from you.

“Gotham’s been waiting for something like you. It can wait another day.”

#I love thomas can u tell #thomas wayne #duke thomas #dc #dc comics #asks #text #batman #batfamily #I love these two actually #Duke reminds Thomas of baby Bruce ty pass it on #ficlet #writing