Pennyworth Manor was finally complete. It took a while, even with Bruce’s money, some of the construction couldn’t be rushed. Furniture would be in the next day, but of all the rooms, including the secret cave, the only room that was complete was the kitchen.
A fitting tribute to the Manor’s namesake.
Bruce was about to lock up for the night, when he smelled something coming from the kitchen. It was familiar, comforting, and something he never thought he’d smell again.
He headed to the kitchen and found Jason there, a platter of cookies in hand. Alfred’s cookies.
“Welcome home.”
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A/N: I think that Alfred’s cookie recipe was passed to Jason. Not from a written recipe, but from how many times they made it together when Jason was younger.
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She wasn’t comfortable in the suit. Bruce didnn’t prioritize comfort over safety, but Steph couldn’t move in her suit.
Not her suit, it was Tim’s suit, modified to fit her.
But like Dick’s suit didn’t fit Jason and Jason’s didn’t fit Tim, his newest Robin needed her own suit.
They made her a new one.
Her hair was another issue. Cutting it was out of the question, and she didn’t seem to like it pulled back. Female heroes he knew had no problems with their hair, but it was never in their face.
Perhaps she’d like a tiara like Diana.
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A/N: Ok so Steph had a headband as Robin. I was just thinking that Bruce found that a ‘tiara’ could double as another throwing weapon for Steph to use in a pinch.
I know people hate it when Bruce is portrayed as wanting to protect Stephanie, BUT in the 80 years of Batman book, Steph was bursting out of the Robin suit until Bruce and Alfred made her a new one. (And the new one had come with a headband)
Summary: Yuno knew what Asta was going to do after the ceremony. He opts to go on a mission instead of attend. Klaus has something to say about it. Spoilers for Chapter 332-333 of the Manga.
Can be read on AO3 or under the cut.
It was early in the day in the Clover Kingdom and the Golden Dawn Headquarters was already a flurry of activity. A select few of them were about to go on a mission to scout out if there was any demon activity in the Forbidden Realm.
In his office, Yuno was just going over some last things before he could tell their team to go. He knew he had to do these checks not because the members of his Brigade were lacking, but because the mission was a joint one with some of the Black Bulls.
Ever since the mission in the Spade Kingdom, the Bulls’ reputation had improved somewhat, but they were still the Bulls. As the Vice Captain of the Golden Dawn, he had to be prepared for anything to go wrong. Their Brigade’s reputation was on the line.
A knock sounded on his door, and it opened. Yuno didn’t bother looking up, he could tell who it was by the person’s footsteps.
“You should be there.”
“Klaus-senpai,” Yuno acknowledged the older man. “I have a duty to the Clover Kingdom.”
“You also have a duty to the Spade Kingdom,” Klaus pointed out. “Yet you’re here instead of there because of that person. But you aren’t even going to his awards ceremony when everyone else important to him is. And isn’t it about time you stop calling me senpai, Vice-Captain?”
“It’s Yuno,” he reminded. “You’re not going either Senpai.”
“I was assigned to this mission.”
“So was I.”
“I know you asked Captain Vangeance for this assignment,” Klaus argued. “I just don’t understand why you would miss Asta’s biggest day.”
“It was a long time coming, this award. He should have received it a few months after me. Everyone from the Hage Church will be there.” Yuno paused giving Klaus a look. “Everyone.”
Klaus stared at him pointedly. Yuno sighed.
They really were just children when Asta had started asking Sister Lily to marry him. Yuno thought he knew what love was back then. That it was simple and uncomplicated, much like how Asta was as a person.
In the years since he had joined the Golden Dawn, he had a lot of people confessing their love for him, but he politely declined.
How could they love him if they did not know him. There was only one person who really knew him.
Another difference between him and Asta.
Asta loved openly and freely with varying degrees. With Asta, what you see is what you get. He loved their little family in the Church. He loved his comrades in the Black Bulls. He loved Yuno, as his best friend.
But most of all Asta loved Sister Lily.
Yuno knew this, and also knew that Asta would no doubt ask her to marry him again. As he did on the daily when they were children. As he continued to do as a Magic Knight whenever he saw the nun.
It was ridiculous when they were children, and back then Yuno didn’t mind. He knew she would always say no, Asta would be dejected, vow to never give up, and would do it all over again the next day.
That was when they were children. Yuno thought things would be as it had always been. He thought that he wouldn’t feel anything but minor annoyance whenever Asta professed his love for Sister Lily.
Things changed when they saved Hage from the elf-possessed Digit Talis. Yuno felt a twinge as soon as Asta had told the nun those three words: I love you.
It was only a tiny twist in his chest, and, at the time, he brushed it off as something from the battle even though he barely broke a sweat.
Later on, much later on after Asta was accused of being a devil worshipper and put on trial, he realised what it was: jealousy.
Not jealousy that Asta was showing how persistent he was, nor in the sense that he wanted Sister Lily. But jealousy in the sense that he wanted Asta’s devotion.
Even at Yuno’s award ceremony for making it to the rank of Grand Magic Knight, Asta’s eyes were on Sister Lily. Sure enough at the after party, he had heard the telltale sound of the Holy Fist of Love connecting Asta to the floor.
Yuno knew that Asta would never see him in that way.
“Are you worried that she would accept?” Klaus asked, bringing Yuno back to the present.
“No, of course not.” Yuno shook his head. “She sees us as her younger brothers. She would never.”
“I see.”
“Besides, Asta doesn’t see me that way.”
Klaus studied him. Yuno hated being stared at, but he was used to Klaus doing a great impression of being a mother hen.
“Why don’t you change it then?” Klaus suggested.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Klaus pushed up his glasses. “Asta isn’t exactly unpopular. Though his fan club isn’t as big as yours, they do exist. He probably doesn’t even know it.”
“He what?”
“And aside from his fans,” the other man continued, ignoring Yuno’s interjection. “He has several close friends who also seem to be interested in him, two of whom are royals.”
Klaus paused to let that sink in. Then he continued.
“While merit will get him to the top, being the fiancé or husband of a Royal could get him to sway the nobles to supporting him in becoming the Wizard King. Those two know that. And they do hold affection for him. Not that he’d ever pick up on it if they didn’t tell him first.”
Yuno knew which two Klaus was referring to. Mimosa never really kept her emotions hidden. It was a well-known secret in the Golden Dawn that their Royal member was smitten with Asta.
As for the other one, Noelle, Yuno really had no idea. But he was certain that if she did confess to Asta, he would misunderstand because he was as dense as a board.
“Don’t wait until it’s too late, Vice Captain.” Klaus advised.
“Call me Yuno, Senpai.” Yuno smiled. “And I won’t.”
He had time. And he intended to be clear about his feelings so Asta would not misinterpret his words.
The most important thing is that Yuno had time.
They were still competing on who would become the Wizard King after all. His feelings did not change the fact that he had to defeat Asta. Then he’d tell the other man how he felt.
Yuno had time.
Until he didn’t.
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A/N: I have feels about Yuno not being there at Asta’s award ceremony. Especially since Asta was at Yuno’s. I’m also planning to write another Yuno-centric fic focusing on chapter 334.
Anyway. Please tell me what you thought of this. And feel free to point out typos! ^-^
Damian refused to believe the news. There were no bodies. No solid evidence that his father was gone. There was even an eye witness. And although Black Adam was once their enemy, he had always been an honest one. Lies were beneath him.
But.
Last time there was a body. There were eyewitnesses the last time too.
Even Dick believed their father was gone.
No. His father was not dead. Although everyone else thought otherwise, Damian would believe in him enough for everyone. And he would save the universe while doing so.
Somebody had to.
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A/N: Set during Dark Crisis and inspired by that one panel where Damian tells Jon that Bruce is alive
It’s what they’ve been telling people. It sounded better than calling him Clark’s child out of wedlock, which is what the rumor is. It definitely sounded better than calling him Clark’s clone with Lex Luthor’s DNA.
If someone looked too closely, the similarities were obvious. Their eyes were that crisp shade of blue that was almost inhuman. Their smile was the same crooked smile that gets an extra slice of apple pie.
The Kents were beloved in the community, so no one would say these things out loud. He was the Kents’ youngest child after all.
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A/N: I’ve known families who did this, usually if their teenage daughter got pregnant, they’d raise the kid up as a younger sibling especially if she was younger. People knew and talked, but not outright.
And I guestimate Clark to be in his mid to late 20s when Kon comes along, so he really could pass as a younger sibling…. Or a kid Clark had really young.
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Hi! Prompt for you if you want: obi-wan loses/surrenders on Mustafar so anakin captures him
Thank you if you take it!
probably obikin if you squint, but I hope you like this.
The last time Anakin had felt such anger was when his mother was killed. But this time, this feeling, it wasn’t just anger. It was anger mixed with betrayal. Anakin knew he was stronger, knew that Obi-Wan would never cut him down.
“You underestimate my power.”
“Don’t try it,” Obi-Wan warned.
Anakin jumped leaving himself exposed, he saw it then, Obi-Wan’s saber swinging to maim him, he could almost feel the heat of the saber… then he landed, stunned that nothing had happened, but battle-honed instincts kicked in, and he aimed his saber at his former Master’s neck.
Obi-Wan shuddered as he felt the wrongness rolling off Anakin, the hatred and anger emanating from his friend who once shined so brilliant in the Force was now an unending darkness. As a Jedi it was his duty to end the Sith. As Anakin’s former Master it was up to him to correct the mistake that was his fallen apprentice.
As Anakin’s friend, he wanted to save him.
Obi-Wan knew what Anakin was going to do, and how many openings it would give him to defeat the Sith, but he held his saber and surrendered.
If you still want to write for Setleth and you need a prompt, for your consideration: Seteth and Byleth have a standing arrangement to meet once a week for faculty training, but Seteth finds Byleth training the same skill with someone ELSE in her spare time and he has no idea why he’s overcome with irrational anger and can no longer focus at all on his work.
Sorry if this isn’t exactly what you’re looking for non, but I tried.
Also I’m still accepting prompts, mainly for Setleth and Hubleth pairings but I’m also willing to write Dimilix! Just leave a message in my askbox.
Seteth scowled at the massive paperwork he was tackling. As awful as the day to day troubles of running an army was, it was not what had him scowling. What had him scowling was that the Professor was late for their weekly lesson.
Ever since she had began teaching at Garreg Mach, they had weekly Lance Lessons. The only time they had skipped those lessons were the five years in which she was gone. As soon as she returned and even before they were a fully functioning army, the two had continued their lessons. She would always arrive precisely after lunch, but it was already nearing sundown and Seteth had no indication that she was there.
He sighed and put away the ledger, he and Gilbert can go over the numbers later. If there was one place he could find Byleth, it would be the training grounds. There was a high possibility that the new Duke of Fraldarius had cornered her into sparring with him.
As he approached the grounds doors, he heard grunting and the sound of steel clashing against steel.
The doors opened and he placed a stoic expression on his face. It wouldn’t do well to show her that her absence had affected him so.
Inside he did find his wayward Professor, but instead of the young Duke Fraldarius, he found her with the King of Ferghus.
“Chin up Dima,” Byleth taunted, getting in close to the man rendering his lance ineffective.
Dimitri staggered back and regained his footing before he positioned himself to attack her.
It was an impressive bout, Seteth admitted. They were evenly matched. Dimitri’s raw strength and natural range was off set by Byleth’s speed and dexterity. Even as opponents the two seemed to be reflections of each other. Working together they would be a force to be reckoned with.
Seteth could see the two performing another dance. One which would be a cause for celebration. One which left an odd feeling in his stomach.
He shouldn’t have felt it. He was old. Ancient really. And he would understand why she would choose the young prince. He was a millenia older than she was, he was old enough to have a daughter as old as Flayn was after all.
Seteth shook his head. He was not Cichol, and Flayn was not Cethleann. Seteth was Flayn’s brother, not father and he should not forget that. Not when her safety was at risk.
He stepped into the shadows and continued to watch the pair. Proud of Byleth’s proficiency with the lance, yet at the same time there was a sense of loss. A sense of loss not unlike when he thought she was dead five years ago. Or one that closely reminded him of how it felt like to bury his wife.
He watched as he saw them finish their spar, as Dimitri blushed when she smiled at him. If she wanted the prince, she could have him with just one word. But she smiled and sent him on his way leaving the training grounds empty except for the two of them.
“Would you like to spar?” she asked aloud, “You’ve been watching for a while now.”
“You knew?” He asked, stepping out of the shadows and shrugging off his outer robe before picking up a training lance.
“Hard not to notice when you give off such an angry aura.”
He didn’t reply, instead he took up an offensive stance across from her. She smirked and got into a stance of her own. They stared at each other, letting the tension build.
Seteth took in a breath, and lunged at her as he exhaled. As theatrical as a war cry would be he knew she wouldn’t falter. When Byleth fought, she danced. Each step was a new form of grace that only a few could really master.
He was a master of arms through decades of practice. She was a natural.
With each thrust she parried, each attack she sidestepped, he knew in his heart of hearts that what he felt earlier when he was watching her with Dimitri was jealousy. A feeling that had been completely alien to him until he realized that he could lose her.
She disarmed him with a move that he had taught her, then swept at his feet to topple him to the ground. With the tip of her lance to his neck she scowled.
“You’re distracted,” she complained. Holding out a hand to help him up. “This distraction would kill you if I were an enemy.”
Long gone were the days that he could claim to be her teacher in the lance. She had previously already proven that she could best him. He was only fooling himself when he thought that he was still giving her lessons.
“Apologies,” he reached out and accepted. “I’ve had a few revelations this afternoon.”
“Anything I could help with?”
She was sincere in her offer. He knew that.
“No thank you Professor,” he said, dusting off his trousers. “I believe I can handle this on my own.”
“If you need me Seteth,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m always at your service.”
He stared into her eyes. Green seafoam that he could get lost in. The moment seemed to last an eternity before he turned away.
She was beautiful and kind. And young.
He was old, ancient. She deserved more.
So he walked away. He was old enough to be her father many times over. He knew that his chances with her were infinitesimal. They continued on as they had before.
Her commanding the army, leading her former students into battle and getting them home safely. Him working behind the scenes as an advisor and friend. They grew closer, but he never assumed that they were anything but friends.
When she and Dimitri returned from their victory against Edelgard, she sent a messenger ahead to inform him that she wanted to speak with him at the Goddess Tower.
Perhaps she would ask him his opinion on a marriage between herself and the prince. Still if there was a chance that she would consent to be his, maybe he should risk it.
Seteth took the box he had hidden in his drawer. If he didn’t try, then he would spend the rest of his long life wondering what if.
Summary: A little interaction between Ichigo and Rukia after the battle with the Fullbringers. Day 1 of Ichiruki week - How good you look to me. (Late Post)
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Rukia wiped the sweat off of her brow as she saw the last of the fullbringers run away. She knew she looked awful, covered in her own sweat and the blood of the girl who saved Ichigo, Riruka.
“Hime!” She cried out as she cast a low level healing Kido, “Someone call Orihime!”
“Rukia,” Ichigo said as he approached.
He was a sight she had missed in the time he was gone, but as much as their reunion was a long time in the making, she had a dying human in her arms and she didn’t want the person who saved Ichigo to bleed out.
“Hime is on her way,” he said. “I’ll keep pressure on the wound while you continue healing.”
“Looks like you aren’t son of a doctor for nothing,” she joked as his hands took over hers so she could focus her energy on the Kido.
“Looks like you’ve been through hell,” Ichigo smirked at her.
