2 Fics: Fairy Tales and Avengers
Fandom: Fairy Tales
Summary: The princess is so much more than what she seems.
Fic:
They tell her to stay in her room, in the high tower - it's safest there. They let her bring books from the library to keep her occupied, grateful that she shows no interest in the courtiers who might compromise her purity. They keep her out of sight, lest intrigues and plots corrupt her; there are those who would delight in killing the king's daughter, or worse, filling her mind with dangerous ideas.
She never complains, and everyone praises her for her ready obedience to her king.
They do not know that there is a loose stone in the wall of her room that hides all the things she has stolen.
A sword and a fine collection of jeweled knives, stolen from the knights of the realm. She climbs down a long rope from her window at night, and takes what she wishes from her subjects. Her tiny window gives her a superior view of the knights' daily practice, and she trains for hours - long after they go home tired. When the time comes, she will know all of their moves, all of their weaknesses.
There is gold there as well. From her high perch, she can see the merchants' and courtiers' secret meetings, to say nothing of the whispers she hears when she sneaks among the castle's secret passageways. She could name every bribe, every deal, that everyone at court has made since she was a child. She knows who to bribe if she ever needed anything - whose morality would come cheap, whose honor would require a steeper price -- and she has enough information to blackmail anyone. Even her father.
She does study her books as well. She keeps a book about garden plants sitting on top of the large pile of tomes, dissuading her occasional visitors from looking beneath: books on dark magic, poisons, spells. She soaks up this knowledge, letting it seep into her like blood into cloth, and practices her skills from her small stone window.
She is a quiet girl, everyone knows, a girl who waits patiently to be called for, never complaining.
They do not know the real reason she waits. Or what will happen when the waiting is done.
Fandom: Avengers
Summary: Bruce/Tony hurt/comfort. Tony has a panic attack, and Bruce can't help him.
Fic:
It was a clip on TV, footage of Iron Man swooping toward the chasm in the sky.
Tony ran out of the room and fell, hunched over, palms rough against the floor. He panted, closed his eyes. Ordered himself to calm.
He realized that Bruce hadn’t followed him.
Tony tried to even his breathing. He imagined Bruce stroking his back. A gentle hand, possessive, on the back of his neck.
Long minutes later, he opened his eyes. He stood up, slow, and walked back into the other room.
Bruce was sitting on the floor, meditating, making sure his protective instincts didn’t turn into something sharper, larger.
“Sorry. I’m okay now,” Tony said. He leaned against the wall in his best impression of casual.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t any help,” Bruce said. His voice was almost matter-of-fact, regretful but not mournful.
“I get it,” Tony said quickly. He walked over to Bruce, soft steps, and slowly lay down next to where he was seated, resting his head on Bruce’s thigh. “Can you still meditate like this?”
“No. But I’m okay now too,” Bruce said quietly. He sifted his fingers through Tony’s hair, fingertips tracing curved lines, softly, too softly, as if he thought Tony were fragile.
After a long time, Tony said, “What you said before.” His voice cracked a little.
“When?”
“When you moved in? That you needed to be some place good for your calm. I know I haven’t been… that.” Tony knew enough now about Bruce’s past to know that he was practically a checklist of things that Bruce shouldn’t have to deal with: rowdy drunkenness, confrontational tendencies, panic attacks that reminded Bruce of all the times he couldn’t protect the people he loved.
Bruce sighed. He moved his hand down to Tony’s shoulder, squeezing it. “I promise, Tony. You’ve been exactly what I need.”
“Yeah. I doubt that.” Tony wished he could say otherwise.
“Okay. I guess I’ll just have to stick around long enough that you figure it out.” Bruce’s hands moved lightly up and down Tony’s arm.
Doubts aside, there was no way Tony wasn’t going to jump on that. “I guess you will,” Tony said, and it sounded a bit like a demand, but Bruce didn’t seem to mind.
After another minute, Tony said, “Bruce?”
“Yeah?”
“You know, I don’t feel… unsafe around you. I never would.” Bruce was stroking Tony’s hair again, letting a light touch linger along Tony’s ear.
“I know,” Bruce said, like he never suspected otherwise.
Tony closed his eyes again and focused on the warmth of Bruce’s fingers, at the sound of his slow, steady breaths. Calm, like a contagion, seeping into Tony, a muddy border of forgetting and peace.
“You helped me in the other room. By the way. Just so you know,” Tony mumbled, eyes still closed.
“If you say so.”
“I do.” Tony’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled up at Bruce. He leaned up to meet Bruce in a kiss.
Bruce touched his face softly then, a thumb tracing his lower lip. “Then I guess you’re going to be okay.”
“Yeah. We will.”
.
Summary: The princess is so much more than what she seems.
Fic:
They tell her to stay in her room, in the high tower - it's safest there. They let her bring books from the library to keep her occupied, grateful that she shows no interest in the courtiers who might compromise her purity. They keep her out of sight, lest intrigues and plots corrupt her; there are those who would delight in killing the king's daughter, or worse, filling her mind with dangerous ideas.
She never complains, and everyone praises her for her ready obedience to her king.
They do not know that there is a loose stone in the wall of her room that hides all the things she has stolen.
A sword and a fine collection of jeweled knives, stolen from the knights of the realm. She climbs down a long rope from her window at night, and takes what she wishes from her subjects. Her tiny window gives her a superior view of the knights' daily practice, and she trains for hours - long after they go home tired. When the time comes, she will know all of their moves, all of their weaknesses.
There is gold there as well. From her high perch, she can see the merchants' and courtiers' secret meetings, to say nothing of the whispers she hears when she sneaks among the castle's secret passageways. She could name every bribe, every deal, that everyone at court has made since she was a child. She knows who to bribe if she ever needed anything - whose morality would come cheap, whose honor would require a steeper price -- and she has enough information to blackmail anyone. Even her father.
She does study her books as well. She keeps a book about garden plants sitting on top of the large pile of tomes, dissuading her occasional visitors from looking beneath: books on dark magic, poisons, spells. She soaks up this knowledge, letting it seep into her like blood into cloth, and practices her skills from her small stone window.
She is a quiet girl, everyone knows, a girl who waits patiently to be called for, never complaining.
They do not know the real reason she waits. Or what will happen when the waiting is done.
Fandom: Avengers
Summary: Bruce/Tony hurt/comfort. Tony has a panic attack, and Bruce can't help him.
Fic:
It was a clip on TV, footage of Iron Man swooping toward the chasm in the sky.
Tony ran out of the room and fell, hunched over, palms rough against the floor. He panted, closed his eyes. Ordered himself to calm.
He realized that Bruce hadn’t followed him.
Tony tried to even his breathing. He imagined Bruce stroking his back. A gentle hand, possessive, on the back of his neck.
Long minutes later, he opened his eyes. He stood up, slow, and walked back into the other room.
Bruce was sitting on the floor, meditating, making sure his protective instincts didn’t turn into something sharper, larger.
“Sorry. I’m okay now,” Tony said. He leaned against the wall in his best impression of casual.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t any help,” Bruce said. His voice was almost matter-of-fact, regretful but not mournful.
“I get it,” Tony said quickly. He walked over to Bruce, soft steps, and slowly lay down next to where he was seated, resting his head on Bruce’s thigh. “Can you still meditate like this?”
“No. But I’m okay now too,” Bruce said quietly. He sifted his fingers through Tony’s hair, fingertips tracing curved lines, softly, too softly, as if he thought Tony were fragile.
After a long time, Tony said, “What you said before.” His voice cracked a little.
“When?”
“When you moved in? That you needed to be some place good for your calm. I know I haven’t been… that.” Tony knew enough now about Bruce’s past to know that he was practically a checklist of things that Bruce shouldn’t have to deal with: rowdy drunkenness, confrontational tendencies, panic attacks that reminded Bruce of all the times he couldn’t protect the people he loved.
Bruce sighed. He moved his hand down to Tony’s shoulder, squeezing it. “I promise, Tony. You’ve been exactly what I need.”
“Yeah. I doubt that.” Tony wished he could say otherwise.
“Okay. I guess I’ll just have to stick around long enough that you figure it out.” Bruce’s hands moved lightly up and down Tony’s arm.
Doubts aside, there was no way Tony wasn’t going to jump on that. “I guess you will,” Tony said, and it sounded a bit like a demand, but Bruce didn’t seem to mind.
After another minute, Tony said, “Bruce?”
“Yeah?”
“You know, I don’t feel… unsafe around you. I never would.” Bruce was stroking Tony’s hair again, letting a light touch linger along Tony’s ear.
“I know,” Bruce said, like he never suspected otherwise.
Tony closed his eyes again and focused on the warmth of Bruce’s fingers, at the sound of his slow, steady breaths. Calm, like a contagion, seeping into Tony, a muddy border of forgetting and peace.
“You helped me in the other room. By the way. Just so you know,” Tony mumbled, eyes still closed.
“If you say so.”
“I do.” Tony’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled up at Bruce. He leaned up to meet Bruce in a kiss.
Bruce touched his face softly then, a thumb tracing his lower lip. “Then I guess you’re going to be okay.”
“Yeah. We will.”
.