#and i tried with a certain red lady but somehow we got locked out of recruiting her due to an action we did she shouldnt of known about | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

Text

New but True

This is the 10k+ one shot I was talking about. I finished it as quickly as I could yesterday (with aching muscles WHICH STILL HURTS-) Any way enjoy!

Wordcount: >13k

Damian didn't know how he was expecting his day to go but he didn't expect it to go like this.

He woke up a little earlier than usual which was an annoyance since he would be doing patrol late at night. His brothers were also being a pain when he arrived for breakfast, but that was normal. What wasn't normal was the fact that he had this aching feeling in his stomach, a gut feeling, that something would happen. He wasn't sure whether it was something good or something bad, but he wasn't going to take any chances. He didn't pay any attention to Dick as he talked about how Kor'i and Mar'i would be coming to visit. The eldest, being his overdramatic self, let out a huff of taken offense when he realised Damian wasn't paying attention. His thoughts were interrupted by Jason's annoying snark.

"Demon-spawn's love life is nonexistent, did you really expect him to listen?"

Damian inhaled sharply through his nose, took a sip from the cup of coffee he stole from Tim, reached for a knife and looked Jason straight in the eyes. "Your life will be nonexistent, Todd"

As he was about to throw it, Alfred materialized behind him. "Master Damian, no throwing utensils at the table"

The green-eyed boy huffed, finishing the rest of Tim's coffee off. He left to his room with no comment and when he reached his room, he changed to go on a walk.

He didn't have a specific area he wanted to go to, he just let his legs do the walking. He made it to a paint shop, an antique shop, a small drinks stand where he bought a small lemonade from and a quiet street. Then the feeling returned only much stronger. Damian then felt as if he was being watched. His eyes squinted and scanned the area surrounding him only to be filled with dread as a wave of exhaustion hit him. Somehow someway, someone managed to drug him. Soon the effects of the drug went in full motion and he sank quickly into darkness.

~~~

Damian, still half asleep, tried to move around, only to feel a chains bounding him to the floor. Now he was fully awake. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room and he came to the conclusion that he was kidnapped by the League of Assassins. He was heavily and expertly bounded to the floor which was a bother. Then a voice made him realise he wasn't alone.

"Wh-where am I?" A faint, small and sweet voice asked in French.

Damian's head turned to the direction the sound was doing from, his vision was then locked with the other figure in the room. Green eyes met blue. Damon didn't know what to say after meeting the girl's gaze and instead observed her. She was beautiful, probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and she looked small, frail and weak. But Damian knew better than to judge people based on appearance alone. It could all just be an act, an image she's trying to portray. 'This girl has to be dangerous or has to have a great significance of some kind. After all, she was kidnapped too'. Damian was about to answer when an all too familiar voice answered instead.

"You're in the League of Assassins, little guardian" a female voice replied in french. Damian then turned to meet his mother's glare, giving Talia a glare of his own.

"...Why am I here?" Even though the girl seemed very fragile at that moment, her voice was intimidating.

"To be betrothed to my son"

"What?!" Both teenagers exclaimed in French.

"You heard me. You-" Talia pointed at Damian. "are the heir to the League of Assassins and you-" her finger pointed to the blue-haired girl. "are the Great Guardian, heir to the Order of the Guardians." she then crossed her arms. "It would be beneficial for both parties for this marriage to take place as it would create an alliance between the two opposing organizations"

Talia approached the blue-eyed girl first. "I have your kwami" she whispered furiously in French. "Go through with this, otherwise your kwami will take the punishment" Damian didn't understand what his mother was talking about and soon she was approaching him. "You refuse, the girl dies. You choose" she told her son in English. Talia was very certain the girl heard and understood her words.

He didn't know anything about the girl but he would be damned if he let her die. Damian and the figure both locked eyes again. Though neither face showed any emotion, their eyes conveyed a silent conversation, a silent agreement.

Talia didn't see this as she was already turning away from them. "You'll now be escorted to different rooms to change". At her command, more people entered the room.

~~~

He was forced into his assassin's gear and dragged to the alter, many assassins with weapons drawn warned him to remain where he was. Then the doors opened. The mysterious blue-

eyed girl was fitted in a dark red qipao, her long midnight hair, that was now let down, framed her face perfectly. If they weren't in this situation, he probably would have approached the girl himself.

Being brought back to reality, both him and the girl stood side by side, looking up at Talia who had a goblet filled with god knows what. The brown-haired woman then forcefully took the girl's hand and sliced her palm, letting the blood drip down into the beaker. Upon doing so, the blue-haired girl winced when the blade made contact with her skin. Talia then took Damian's hand and did the same, Damian didn't show any emotion when the action was done. The woman mixed the liquids and poured the concoction into two separate glasses. She chanted something in another language which he didn't bother listening to. Both Damian's and the girl's eyes locked once more before they both brought the chalices to their lips and drank. Damian ignored the burning from the liquid as it went down his throat but he saw the girl gulp in visible discomfort.

After the ceremony was complete, the newlywed couple were forced into a bedroom. Damian tried opening the door but it was, shut. He turned to face the girl who was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm truly sorry for these turn of events"

"I'm so sorry they dragged you into this"

Damian and the blue-eyed girl shared a small but saddened chuckle as they both talked, in English, at the same time.

"Like I said earlier I... I'm sorry you were forced into this" Damian murmured as he went to sit next to the girl, keeping some distance as to not make her uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna stop you right there" She put her hand up, indicating for him to stop talking. "You were roped into this as much as I was" the girl hesitantly placed her hand on his and surprisingly, Damian didn't feel the need to pull away. "The only person here to blame is your mother" her eyes widened at her own statement "Sorryifthatoffendedyou!"

Damian chuckled at her reaction. "It's fine. She only gets the privilege of being called my mother because she's biologically related to me" he thought for a moment and cleared his throat. "Since we're... married"

"We might as well try to make it work" she smiled at him and Damian felt his cheeks heat up ever so slightly.

He nodded. "Firstly, Hello, my name is Damian, Damian Wayne and I am your husband"

"Well hello too you too! I'm your wife and my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng... or is it Wayne now?" Marinette asked slightly flustered. Damian decided that he enjoyed seeing her flustered. He took the hand that was resting on his and gently kissed her knuckles. The bluenette's blush was far more visible now.

"Marinette" Damian hummed. "A beautiful name to suit a beautiful lady such as yourself"

She giggled, Damian revelled in the sound. "You're one to talk tall, dark and handsome" she abruptly stopped. "Wait, Damian Wayne?" Marinette tried to stifle her laughter but failed.

"What's so funny?" He shot her a jokingly glare.

"No it's just-" she tried to control her laughter and managed to lower it to giggles. "There's a girl in my class and she says that you and her are a couple"

The look of disgust on his face managed to throw her into a fit of more laughter. "The only woman that I love is my beautiful wife" he grumbled, pulling Marinette closer to him and wrapping his arm around her waist. Damian felt the blue-eyed girl's body freeze. "Sorry I-" he was cut off when Marinette leaned into his embrace, her head snuggled under his chin.

"I love you too, mon chéri"

~~~

In the few hours she really got to know him, Marinette fell for Damian, she fell hard. He told her about his pets and about Jon, his self proclaimed best friend. He then told her about his family, how they were actually the Bats and how infuriating they were, though she knew he loved them. In turn she told him about being Ladybug and the situation in Paris, he was furious about not knowing of this sooner. Even more so after finding out her relationship with her classmates but he kept his promise to not kill them, for now.

They hadn't noticed how much time has past until the sound of the door opening reminded the couple of where they were. Damian and Marinette both stood up, the bluenette slightly behind her husband as Talia entered the room. The older woman tossed a cage and a key at the two, she left without saying a single word. Marinette picked up the key and stumbled to cage, shakily turning the key. As soon as the cage door opened, the red blur flew out and hugged her cheek.

"Marinette I was so worried!" Tikki squeaked

"I'm glad you're okay Tikki!" The bluenette turned to the black-haired boy who was smiling ever so slightly at the reunion. "Damian this is Tikki, my kwami. Tikki this is Damian, my husband"

Damian stood and nodded curtly at the flying goddess. The kwami flew up, inspected for a second and hugged his cheek. Marinette giggled at the interaction. "He's right for you Marinette. But the moment I get my hands on that witch of a woman, I will get Plagg to deal with her"

Marinette, not wanting to stress her kwami best friend, suggested that Tikki get some rest and the kwami, though hesitantly, agreed. Now it was just Damian and Marinette awake. The green-eyed boy walked towards the window, Marinette followed suit.

"Tt, It's bolted down where we can't reach" Damian was referring to the window.

"I checked for any secret doors or passage ways, nothing"

"We need to escape somehow" he murmured. 'We could try to pick the door lock but there's an object obstructing the hole, only removed when the key is used. Kicking the door down could be an option but there could be assassins posted outside-'

"You look tired" Marinette's sweet voice interrupted his thoughts. "Go to bed"

"I can sleep on the flo-"

"It's cold sleeping on my own" she smiled up at him. Damian swore that her smile was brighter than the sun itself. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Alright"

Marinette was surprised at how well she trusted Damian despite the fact they had known each other for less than 24 hours. Yet here she was, cuddling up in her husband's arms. It was probably Plagg's influence giving her confidence. Then again, Damian must be thinking the exact same thing. She reached out to cover the black-haired boy completely with the blanket provided. When she was sure he was safe under the blanket, she kissed his cheek and snuggled back into his chest. They could escape later, right now she just wanted to spend time with Damian. Her husband.

~~~

A few days had past and they still hadn't made any progress of escaping. Though they had made progress in bonding. Despite the fact they had only been with each other for a few days, they felt as if they'd known each other for years. They knew each other's hobbies, favourite activities, body language. It's almost as if they could communicate through their eyes alone. Damian hate to say it, but he had to thank his mother for introducing the two. Though that small spark of gratefulness would soon flicker out.

One day, Damian woke alone. He noticed the lack of his wife's signature scent, vanilla and cherry blossoms courtesy of her shampoo, as well as the lack of warmth when he woke up. It hit him like a train, Talia took her. He stormed through the door, surprisingly it was left unlocked. He found his mother in a separate room, calmly drinking tea.

"Where. Is. My. Wife." He growled out. Talia looked at her son, put her cup of tea down and stared straight into his eyes.

"We've decided" she began slowly. "That we need more from their side of the bargain" A dangerous glint was in her eyes. "We've asked for the miraculous in exchange for protection but since they've refused, we're going void this bethrothal. By killing the girl. You are no longer needed here"

Damian's eyes were wide open. Marinette was the only person in the world he truly loved, she didn't judge him for his past and she didn't mind when he was stubborn and self-centered. He'd finally opened his heart to her fully, now his mother was going to kill her. His fists were clenched but before he could do anything, he was hit at the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

~~~

"Has Master Damian returned?" Alfred asked when he entered the living room.

"Nope, the brat's not home" Jason replied, too invested in one of his books.

"Is there something wrong, Alfred?" Alfred turned to where Dick was sitting on the couch, eager for his wife and daughter to return from Tamaran.

"Master Damian is usually home by now when he goes out for walks and it is almost time for dinner" he sounded as if he was going to say more but there was someone at the door so he went to see who it was, Dick followed thinking it was Kor'i and Mar'i. But before he left he told the other two men in the room to call Damian.

Jason tried first but succeeded no results. "You try Replacement"

Tim, who was losing it slightly as he had one less cup of coffee than usual, obliged, only to receive the same outcome. Getting slightly confused, he tried tracking his little brother's phone. Soon Mar'i came in.

"Hi Uncle Jay! Hi Uncle Timmy!" She looked around the room, her green eyes slightly glinting with sadness. "Where's Uncle Dami?"

Tim and Jason looked at each other, gesturing for the other to answer. Luckily Alfred stepped in. "He's out on a walk. Right now it's time for dinner so let's get you seated"

The little girl bounced with joy. "Okay Papa Alfie!"

The the two left, Bruce decided to walk in. He glanced briefly around the room. "Where's Damian?"

"He's not answering any calls or messages. I tracked his phone and-" he turned the computers screen around, showing a map with a circle indicating where Damian's phone was.

"Should we go get the Demon Brat now B or?" Jason asked.

"You can go Jason"

The second eldest went to the batcave to suit up and Tim sent the location. It lead Red Hood to a quiet street, and an unsupervised phone. He picked it up, saw all of the notifications on it and looked around the area. No Damian in sight. What was insight though, was a cup of lemonade, nearly finished. 'This is getting very weird very quickly' Red Hood figured it would be best just to take it back in case.

When he got back, he put the lemonade through for testing and went upstairs for dinner, Damian's phone in hand. When he arrived he was met with all the stares of anticipation. He sighed and put the phone on the table.

"I didn't find Demon Spawn" nearly all of the table sighed. "All I found was lemonade, didn't know he drank it"

"Did you get it tested for any sedatives?" Dick asked, worried for his little brother.

"In the cave now"

"Tim, he has a tracker on right?" Dick turned to the coffee-deprived boy.

Tim nodded and pulled his phone out. "It must've got damaged somehow, it's not appearing on the map"

"Has it got a tracked history of where he's been?" Bruce cut in. Tim fiddled with his phone for a moment.

"His last tracked location was the same location where we found his phone"

"Is Uncle Dami gonna be okay?" The small girl's voice echoed in the room.

"Don't worry my little bumgorf, I'm sure we will find him" Kor'i reassured her daughter.

Soon dinner was finished, Kor'i took Mar'i to her room so the others could find out what happened. When they reached the batcave, the lemonade, the only piece of evidence they had, had traces of a very strong sedative that would've knocked Damian out in seconds. They went out on an earlier patrol to see if they could spot the green-eyed boy. Nothing. On the regular patrol, no villain had claimed to taking Damian. Again, the patrol received no results.

"I'll try calling Jon" Dick's worried voice whispered.

After a few rings, Jon picked up. "Hi Dick! What's-"

"Have you seen Damian today?"

"No I haven't, why is something wrong?" The boy asked, getting worried for his best friend.

"He's not picking up his phone and his tracker for damaged"

"...o-okay I'll keep an eye out for him"

Dick thanked the young superhero and shook his head to all the people in the room. They all collectively sighed. 'Where did you go Little D?'

~~~

A few days passed and they still had no luck. Jason was getting worried, 'The Joker better not have him'. Though Damian is a little shit at times, he was still his younger brother. Jason was always the first to get out and look for him, he was one of the last people Damian talked to that day, and he wasn't necessarily happy about what he said to him beforehand. If he was captured, tortured and/or killed by the Joker, Jason would never let the feeling of vengeance grow.

Red Hood surveyed the area and his head darted in the direction of what sounded like a struggle. He alerted the others through his comm and headed towards the noise. It came from two hooded figures and...

"Hey!"

The hooded figures froze at the sound of his voice. They quickly left the area not before harshly throwing the third figure at the nearby wall. Red Hood ran up to the boy and he was right. It was Damian, battered, bruised and unconscious. But he was alive. Red Hood scrambled to his side, carrying him on his back. "I found him but he's not doing too good"

"Bring him back to the batcave, Agent A will take care of him. In the meantime, return to patrol"

When they had all finished, they returned to the batcave where Alfred was hovering over Damian, who was on a bed, covered in bandages.

"Master Damian is recovering quickly, he'll wake up soon" Alfred reassured the worried family.

Though not most of them wouldn't admit it out loud, they deeply missed and were incredibly fretful for their youngest. Bruce, Dick, Tim and even Jason all sat around Damian. Only after Alfred assured them to bed did they leave the boy's side.

Tim woke up early, as usual, and he decided to fix himself a cup of strong coffee. He grabbed his laptop from the living room and instead of doing work there, he went down to the batcave at sat besides Damian's bed. He'd felt a pang of sadness when his younger brother didn't return home a few days earlier as he didn't interact at all will him before he left.

Tim didn't register when Damian left, or the fact that Dick was talking, or even when Jason kept throwing remarks here and there. The thing he did register though was the fact that his coffee cup was no longer in his reach. "Who took my coffee?" He tried to sound threatening but it came out as tired and completely done.

"Demon Spawn took it" Jason scoffed.

Tim then reached for the familiar cup from across the table, only to find it empty.

"How dare he drink my coffee" Tim growled, a new source of energy arising from his anger. "The brat's definitely going to get it later"

All too soon, it was time for breakfast. Tim got up to leave only to stop when he saw movement in the corner of his eye. The coffee lover turned to face a half conscious Damian.

"You're okay! Little D's awake!!" Tim shouted to get everyone's attention.

"Could you not burst my eardrums Drake?" The green-eyed boy grumbled, his head still throbbing from the hit he had taken earlier.

One by one, the others filed into the batcave. Dick gave Damian a big hug, Tim flashed a smile of relief, Jason ruffled the boy's hair and Bruce gave a small hug followed by a pat on the head. Throughout the whole ordeal, Damian had blank stare. No scowl, no unpleasant looks. Nothing. No one knew what had happened, only that it wasn't good. Soon, Mar'i came running in and jumped onto his bed, squeezing him in a hug.

"Uncle Dami we were so worried!" The little girl sobbed. Though the contact did hurt, he pushed aside the pain from the injuries and patted his niece's head.

"I'm back now"

"Where did you go?" Mar'i's eyes shone in burning curiosity. It reminded Damian of Marinette, the first thing she said had the same curiosity.

"It doesn't matter" he choked out. The others must have mistook the question as a trigger for a bad memory as they instantly changed the subject, they had no clue of the real reason.

"If you are well rested, Master Damian, would you like to join us for breakfast?" Alfred entered the room, his eyes were empathetic. 'Pennyworth knows what happened, he always knows'

"Yes, thank you Pennyworth" Mar'i jumped off so Damian could stand up. He suppressed a wince as he put pressure on his right foot. Slowly, the others left to go upstairs and Damian was left alone with his father.

"Damian" The green-eyed boy looked up to where Bruce was standing. "What happened?"

"Mother" he states simply, he didn't need to add anything else.

"What did she do?"

"..." Damian didn't answer at first, he looked away, wanting to avoid eye contact as much as possible. Bruce patiently waited, however. The green-eyed boy's head lowered to the ground but his gaze was fixated on his father. They had a deadly, destructive, toxic tint that even disturbed Bruce. But he said nothing, not a single word left his mouth and whatever he wanted to say seemed to die down in his throat. Damian took a few steps to one of the exits before stopping and turning back towards Bruce. "I appreciate your concern, father" Damian's lips twitched, forming a small smile, and he walked away, trying not to show he was limping.

Bruce watched as his youngest walked, limped, away. Whatever Talia had done, it had taken a toll on Damian. Mentally and Physically. He wanted to know exactly what happened so he could give the help the green-eyed boy needed. For now, he'll let his son relax and heal, he deserved it.

~~~

Marinette woke to a lack of warmth and the lost feeling of strong arms around her body. One of her eyes fluttered open, she was in a different room, one she didn't recognise. The bluenette began to panic and searched for the door, it was locked.

"Dami?"

No answer.

"Tikki?" Luckily, the small goddess was in the room.

"I tried to stop them but they knocked me out, I'm so sorry Marinette!" The blue-eyed girl was quick to reassure her kwami when she heard talking down the hall.

"Where. Is. My. Wife."

Marinette immediately recognised it as Damian's voice. She wanted to call out but it would be a stupid move, there could be assassins posted in front of her door, she could put Damian in danger, the possibilities were endless. So she just listened.

"We've decided... that we need more from their side of the bargain. We've asked for the miraculous in exchange for protection but since they've refused, we're going void this bethrothal. By killing the girl. You are no longer needed here"

The blue-haired girl then heard the sound of something heavy being used to hit someone, then a loud thud. Marinette had to cover her mouth so that her scream would be muffled. She had to get out of there. Now. The bluenette didn't want to leave without Damian, but he would want her to escape. She quietly transformed and went to the window in her room, it wasn't bolted down like the room she was previously in so she used her yo-yo to break it down. And she ran, she ran as far as her legs could take her. When she was positive she was safe, she took her yo-yo and called the one person who could get her out of there.

"Pegasus?" She asked, her voice hoarse as she held back tears.

"Ladybug! We're getting worried, where are you? A Parisian citizen is missing and there's an akuma attack currently going on and if you don't get here we'll 100%-"

"Can you get my location, please?" Ladybug pleaded, hoping that the horse hero wouldn't get mad for cutting him off. Other than the occasional computer keyboard sounds, the line went silent. "When you do, please don't question where I am. Can you teleport me back to Paris?"

"Got it Ladybug" the ladybug hero then heard a muffled 'Voyage!' in the background and a portal appeared in front of her.

The portal lead to the Eiffel Tower and in front of her was a worried Pegasus.

"I'll explain everything later, let's deal with this akuma first"

~~~

After a difficult akuma and a Lucky Charm in the form of fairy lights, Ladybug felt her walls crumbling.

"Ladybug!" Chat's voice echoed from behind her. The black cat hero was followed by Pegasus, Ryuko and Honey Bee, Chloe's new hero mantle. "What happened? Where did you go?"

Before she could answer, Pegasus spoke up. "Sorry to interrupt but my miraculously about to run out and I need to return it"

"Oh right, come with me Pegasus" She lead him to a nearby building and he detransformed, leaving Max standing where the horse-themed hero once was.

"My friend Marinette is still missing, can you-"

"She's safe don't worry, she'll be home soon" After bidding Max goodbye, she returned to where the other three heroes were waiting.

"Alright Buginette, explain" Honey Bee exclaimed as soon as Ladybug arrived. Though the spotted heroine didn't seem to be listening. "Ladybug-"

She detransformed, wearing a black qipao with floral embroidery, and Tikki hugged her cheeks as tears rolled down them. The others were quick to rush to her side.

"Mari-hime... what happened?" Ryuko began slowly.

"I think it's best if she explains this at home" Chat Noir suggested.

"I'll take her, you two detransform and meet her at home. I'll come up with a cover story" Honey Bee said, carrying the woeful bluenette.

When Kagami and Adrien arrived at the Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, Marinette's parents were busy in the baker but explained the story that Chloe had told them, how Marinette was a target for one of the Akumas and needed to leave immediately. They said she was up in her room. The two were about to walk up the stairs when Chloe burst though the door behind them, out of breath, and walked with them. As they opened the trapdoor in Marinette's bedroom floor, they found the bluenette sat on her chaise, being comforted by the small red kwami.

"You know how strong Damian is, Marinette. I'm sure he managed to escape and I bet he's as worried as you are right now" the three heroes heard Tikki say.

"Whose Damian?" Adrien asked. The bluenette only seems to then notice that there were others in the room with her. She sighed and gestured for the three to sit in front of her, which they did.

She took a deep breath. "So a few days ago I was kidnapped by the League of Assassins. They were the organization that the Order of the Guardians had been opposed to for so long. Their current leader decided it would be best to end this conflict and had me, along with her son, kidnapped for an arranged marriage. Damian is her son and before you bash him or something, he was just as forced into it as I was. He turned his back on his mother and the league years ago and I don't hold him for his past."

"Since the betrothal was sealed with magic, we both knew that there was no safe way around it so we decided to work with it. I got to know him, he got to know me et cetera. And I kinda fell hard for him. Earlier today I woke up in a different room than the one I had been locked in, luckily Tikki was with me. I didn't know where he was but I heard Damian confront his mother about my whereabouts. Then when she revealed she was planning to kill me, she injured Damian so that he would be unable to save me and I ran away." She composed herself and looked at Adrien's, Chloe's and Kagami's expressions.

"Now I don't know if Damian is okay or if he still loves me or if he hates me for leaving him behind-" she began rambling on again as her friends were still processing the information.

"Dupain-Cheng!" Chloe shouted, stopping Marinette from maundering on any further. "So you got kidnapped, you got married... and now your worried your husband hates you because you escaped?" The bluenette nodded slowly. "You get left alone for a few hours and you're already married..." she teased, trying to lighten up the mood.

Marinette's cheeks were tinted red but her expression didn't change otherwise. "You said he's the son of the one who kidnapped you right?" Kagami asked.

"Y-yeah"

"Does he know how to use a sword? I wish to duel him to see if he's worthy of your love" she stated simply. Adrien chuckled softly and Marinette smiled slightly.

"What's his last name as it's also your last name now?" The blue-eyed girl's cheeks got redder as she cleared her throat.

"Wayne, Damian Wayne"

If Chloe was drinking a something she would've done a spit take right at that very moment. "Damian Wayne? As in the son of Bruce Wayne the billionaire? The one Lie-la's lying about dating?" Marinette nodded.

"You were saying earlier that you think he might not love you anymore right?" Adrien tried to distract the girls from Chloe's spluttering.

"...yeah what about it?"

"Well you also said he confronted his mother right? Well he must've truly loved you to just go and yell at a dangerous person who was also the person holding them captive. Though you haven't really told us what he's like, I doubt he would just stop loving you like that" Kagami emphasized his point by snapping her fingers.

Marinette smiled. "Thanks for coming to talk but right now I'm exhausted"

"We'll leave you to sleep, Mari-hime" The Japanese fencer then pulled the two blondes out of the room as they both wished her a good nap. Marinette kept a smile until they left, it slowly fell and Mari sank in the pillows of her bed. It didn't feel right to sleep without Damian. She felt... incomplete without him by her side. The tears rolled down again.

~~~

It had been a few days since Damian was found and, honestly, he wasn't doing that good. He'd been quiet, ignoring all remarks from his brothers, hadn't issued any death threats, even his pets didn't seem to bring him more joy. What confused the bat brothers the most is whenever someone would call out for Mar'i, Damian would always glance at the direction of the sound, only to have a slight hint of disappointment in his eyes when he saw his niece but he would always put on a smile for the small girl, sometimes genuine, most times forced.

They didn't have a clue how to crack the case so they got the next best person to obtain information for the green-eyed boy. Jon.

When Jon appeared at the door, Alfred was quick to lead him to Damian's room. The sooner Damian had someone to talk to, the better. "Master Damian, you have a visitor"The door was unlocked so Alfred lead Jon in and promptly left afterwards.

There was silence between the two ad Jon sat down on the floor in front of his best friend, who was sitting on the end of the bed.

"Dami? Do you wanna talk about it?" Jon waited patiently for the green-eyed boy to talk. After a few heartbeats, Damian sighed.

"Mother kidnapped me for an arranged marriage" he murmured. Jon gasped lightly as Damian continued. "She and I were both kidnapped and forced to go through with it. That's how I got...this" He lifted his hand to show faint but noticeable, curved scar, made by a very sharp blade. After a few seconds, Damian put his hand back down. "We were trapped in a shared room so we took that opportunity to get to know one another"

Damian didn't continue after that and Jon came to a conclusion. "You realised you love her"

He nodded. "Now, it's my fault that she's been tortured. Because I wasn't fast enough to protect her..." This was probably the first time Jon had seen his best friend visibly melancholic so he gave him a small hug and surprisingly, Damian wasn't bothered to push him away. "I am so pathetic"

Jon noticed someone at the door, Dick perhaps, but he doubted they they heard anything as Damian's voice was above a whisper so that only Jon could hear. After hearing the person walk away, he decided to lighten the mood. "What's she like?"

"Beautiful, kind, smart, resourceful... She's the living embodiment of sunshine, a breath of fresh air. She isn't quick to judge and she's always got a plan in her head. She's persistent too, and it's adorable when she gets flustered" Damian smiled lightly to himself.

"What's her name? What does she look like?" If talking about this girl made the green-eyed boy happy, then that's what Jon will do.

"Her name's Marinette. Blue hair, blue eyes, short" Damian chuckled lightly. "A smile brighter than the sun itself" he paused. "I don't think she's dead, she's too strong to go down just like that. But I think she's absolutely livid at me."

"She loves you a lot right?, then she wouldn't be" Jon reassured his best friend. "I gotta go now but feel free to talk about her, kay?" Jon almost left the room but was stopped by Damian's voice.

"Hey, Kent" he turned. "Thank you"

Jon smiled brightly before leaving the room, he went down stairs to the living room and was greeted by Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Alfred and Kor'i.

"Well?" Jason pushed, eager to know what was bothering the brat.

He wasn't sure what to say until he heard Alfred whisper. "Let the young master tell them"

Jon shook his head. "Not my place to share. I'm sure he'll tell you eventually though, he just needs time to find the right words" 'He can't just waltz in and say "I got betrothed and now I think my wife hates me cause I left her at the mercy of my mother" They'll think he went mad!'

Bruce sighed. "Thank you Jon, how bad was the situation he was in?"

All the adults in the room were on edge as Jon took so time to formulate his answer. "The aftermath hurt him a lot" the others nodded.

"Wait" Everyone turned to the origin of the sound, Kor'i. "Why does Little D always tense when he hears Mar'i's name?"

"Yeah he does seem to do that" Dick murmured.

Jon was silent for a few seconds, 'What am I supposed to say? Damian's wife is called Marinette and "Mari" is probably a nickname for her. And your daughter just so happens to have the same name!' "Uh, Well Damian himself will have to explain that" The couple, though seemingly unconvinced, nodded.

"Thanks for your help, Jon"

~~~

A few months have past, Damian has slowly gotten better but he still hasn't quite been the same. He'd always have a scowl, as normal, and he'd issue death threats but only after a lot of probing. He'd also refrain from using his katana and other sharp utensils as a first resort. It was scary to say the least. He'd also spend a lot more time in his art room. Though he never displayed any emotions on his face, Damian's brothers noticed how whenever the green-eyes boy was upset, he'd always run his thumb on a long scar on his palm. Obviously from when he was kidnapped.

No one found out what happened as they never asked. Though they were curious. The curiosity grew when Jason managed to sneak into Damian's art room.

Jason was walking around the manor, looking for one of his guns that one of his brothers had hidden, he still didn't know who did it. Somehow, he found himself in front of the door leading to Damian's painting room and surprisingly, it was unlocked. Wanting to look for his missing gun and definitely not wanting to snook around, Jason waltzed in.

Briefly looking around for his gun, Jason came to the conclusion that it wasn't in this room but he stayed to look, admire, at his youngest brother's paintings, his fingers stroked through his two-toned hair. Though he would never admit it, Damian had real skill. One painting in particular caught his eye. It was small but held incredible detail, it looked like a scene frozen in time, but the detail wasn't what caught his eye.

The painting itself was of a long, sharp blade, it was covered in blood. Two different shades of blood. Jason suspected that this was the blade that caused the scar on Damian's palm, further supported by the still drying paint. Most of the paintings before the incident were either of the family or just landscapes, it was no coincidence that this painting was of a memory of what happened the the period he was taken.

Noting that the Demon Brat arrived back from patrol at 4 am, he was probably still asleep, Jason took the painting to bring to the living room.

"Any luck finding your gun?" Tim questioned mockingly.

"No" Jason replied in the same mocking tone but it quickly changed into a serious stare. The other adults noticed this change. He turned the painting in his hand around so that the artwork faced the audience. "I think I found a clue"

When that happened, they watched the boy's moves much more carefully. As well as monitoring the paintings in his room. Thankfully, the other paintings weren't of what happened, they returned to simple family portraits and landscapes. Though it could be debatable as they still had no idea what happened.

Bruce decided to host a competition, where the prizes would be an all-expense paid trip to Gotham and tours of WE for the next generation of work force, it was to write a letter detailing accomplishments and good-deeds as well as those who inspired the writer. He was going through the entries along with all his sons, Damian insisted on reading the ones he was given in his room, though not all of them wanted to help willingly. Expect for the occasional tapping at the computer's keyboard and thoughtful hums, all was silent in the manor. The silence was broken by Tim.

"Hey I like this one" he sipped on his coffee as Dick came to read the letter over Tim's shoulder.

"I think we found a winner" Dick chimed as Tim sent it to Bruce.

When he got it he read through it carefully. This was definitely one of the best they had received. "Very detailed, descriptive, the punctuation is on point, there's a tribute to their heroes as well" Bruce hummed. "Who's the one who submitted this?"

Tim squinted at the computer screen. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, from Paris"

"You're gonna do a background check on her, aren't yo-" Jason paused mid sentence. "Why did the lady mention heroes?"

~~~

A few months have passed since the newlyweds were separated, Marinette still missed Damian every day. Adrien, Chloe and Kagami still didn't know how to cheer the bluenette up, they hadn't told Luka yet either as they were aware he still had lingering feelings for the blue-eyed girl. That was until one day a certain competition caught the school's eye. One being hosted by a certain Bruce Wayne.

When Marinette entered her classroom early, for once, Chloe and Adrien were already waiting for her. "Look at this Mari-bear!" The female blonde shoved a flyer in the bluenette's face. Marinette took it from Chloe, her eyes getting wider as she scanned it.

But he time she was done, one had was covering her mouth as her eyes began to water. "If you enter you'll get a chance at winning and that means you'll get to see Damian again!" Adrien encouraging smile was blinding.

The bluenette nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna enter" Just as she finished her statement, the bell rang and the rest of the students filtered in and once all the students were seated, Miss Bustier entered. She was surprisingly on time, for once.

"Class, I have an important announcement to make" The incompetent teacher clapped her hands to gain the class' attention. They settled down after a few minutes. "As I'm sure some of you have heard, Bruce Wayne as announced a competition which the price is a trip to Gotham!"

"My Damiboo must've begged Bruce to host this competition as he could see me again" Lila gasped dramatically, her fake, faker than her tinnitus, crocodile tears threatened to spill. "I-I w-w-wasn't supposed to s-say a-a-anything. Please d-don't tell anyone!" The bluenette had to bite back a growl and merely settled for glaring daggers into the brunette's skull.

"We won't girl!" Alya comforted the liar, glaring at Marinette and Chloe at the back, as if daring them.

"Even if the competition was made for Lila to return for Gotham, we still need to have a good entry" Miss Bustier specifically landed her gaze onto Marinette, pushing all her responsibilities onto the bluenette, yet again. "I'll leave you to plan" The redhead teacher left the classroom, not even staying for a full 10 minutes. Marinette sighed and turned to Chloe.

"I'm going to write about our achievements as citizens, I hope I get chosen. I really want to see Damian again" The bluenette murmured, the blonde hugged her best friend.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll win. Then you and your loving husband will be reunited" Chloe's tone changed from sincere to teasing when she mentioned Marinette's husband. The bluenette flushed and went to ask Mlle. Mendeleiev if she could work in her classroom.

The science teacher had become Marinette's favourite teacher in the entire school, she saw through Lila's lies and did approach the brunette about them. Lila did her charm but Mlle. Mendeleiev never fell for it, merely making the liar believe she had. The science teacher never properly took proper action against the student in fear of losing her job but she did keep a folder of evidence against Lila, one that was shared with Marinette so when the time came, the bluenette would have enough evidence to fully bring the liar down. She was helpful for her teacher's help. To no surprise, Mlle. Mendeleiev allowed Marinette to do her entry for the competition in her classroom and quickly the bluenette got to work.

Miss Buster only just announced this and the school only decided to hang the flyers when the due date was five days away. Not to mention it had to be written in English, it was hard enough writing something long, let alone in another language, even though Marinette was fluent in said language. Though it was a pain, it was nothing a few dozen cups of coffee could fix. Surprisingly, Marinette managed to finish it on the second day. Though she still had to proofread it as well as make sure it all made sense. On the third day, she was confident with her letter. Adrien, Chloe, Kagami and Luka all came to read it so the bluenette would be sure it was good enough to send. Once giving their praises, she hit send. She just hoped her father-in-law thought it was good enough.

A few days later, Marinette got her answer.

She arrived early that day, surprisingly, Chloe was in the classroom waiting. "Well?" The blonde stated impatiently, Marinette titled her head in confusion.

"What?"

"The email!" Chloe shook her head as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It took a few moments for Marinette to process what her friend was saying. When she did, she jumped into her seat and opened her phone, her fingers shaky with fear and anticipation.

Dear Miss Dupain-Cheng

It's a great honor to tell you that your entry, out of the thousands that were submitted, was chosen as the winner for this competition.

As I first read through the letter you presented, I was intrigued and touched with the actions you and your classmates have done for your community. Each deed was different in it's own write and it was a great pleasure to have read through each and everyone, though, not many of your own had been written down. When you arrive at Gotham, I'd be delighted to hear your own achievements as I am sure, as proven by the way you spoke of your classmates, you have plenty of your own. I was also deeply touched at how you had a tribute to your own heroes in Paris. I was not aware before this that there were such important figureheads in the city so reading about them in your entry was fascinating to say the least. It was also a delight to read how the vigilantes of Gotham inspired you to help others.

The permission slip for the trip is attached to this email, please make sure the one in charge of your classroom has it signed for each student who wishes to attend. I'm sure you are aware that Gotham is a dangerous city and although we are taking extra security measures, it would be advised to have the class debriefed so they know what to expect in case a situation were to occur. If there are any requests or questions, please do not fail to contact me. I look forward to meeting you and your classmates when you arrive.

Congratulations once again,

Bruce Wayne

Marinette could barely hold back the tears of happiness building up in her eyes, Chloe got up and hugged the girl in celebration. Adrien came in soon after, both blondes hugged their best friend with too much force. Though it couldn't last long as the others were starting to file in.

"Class, I have some good news!" Caline Bustier announced. "We are the winning class for the WE trip to Gotham!" The class erupted into cheers, for a moment, Marinette was reminded of the simpler times when she just started out as a hero. Lila just had to ruin it.

"My sweet Damiboo!" The brunette had a hand on her heart, sighing dreamily. "I'm so lucky to have a kind, sweet and caring man as my boyfriend" The bluenette had to hold back a snort at the description, she settled with a small scoff.

Lila knew she was taking a risk a few days ago, saying that her 'Damiboo' had rigged the competition so that they could be together again but it was a calculated risk. Though she would never admit it out loud, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a great student. Marinette is well-educated, well-informed, possibly well-born and the bluenette used to be well-loved. Her winning this trip just proved it but Lila wasn't going to let the girl claim the winnings. The brunette suspected that Marinette would at least try to hint at winning, but she didn't. It was an unordinary occurrence, 'Maybe she realised she's no match for me'

"Now I need you all to signs these permission slips and return them to me by tomorrow" Caline handed out the papers and promptly left afterwards, despite having yet to do a lesson. But that didn't matter to Marinette. She was staring at her palm, her thumb stroking the fading scar.

"I can't wait to see you again, mon démon"

~~~

"Oh no" Tim muttered after taking a final sip from his third cup of coffee.

"What Replacement?"

"Take a look at this" the sleep deprived CEO turned his computer to face the other men in the room, Damian was still at school. "If she has a tragic backstory, B might go into serial adopter mode" The screen showed a file on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, including a photo of her.

"Raven hair? Check. Coloured-eyes? Check. Looks? Check. Childhood trauma and/or tragic backstory? Maybe. Holy Shit, B is definitely going to adopt her" Jason listed while Bruce sighed.

"Is there anything notable in her file?" Bruce asked, trying not to submit to his sons' accusations which were, in fact, correct. "From the letter, she seems quite fond of the supposed heroes in Paris"

"Well from the surface she looks like the average teen girl" Dick replied, peering over Tim's shoulder. "But it could all just be for show, you never know" the eldest son shrugged.

Bruce got up from where he was sitting and went to his study, using the excuse of 'work' and 'finalizing the plane tickets for the class'. In reality, he was checking for blank adoption papers. He had a gut feeling about this girl, something was going on behind the scenes.

~~~

The trio made sure they were early to enter school since Chloe said it was possible for Lila to get them, Marinette specifically, left behind. Though, they did spend some time saying goodbye to Luka and Kagami. When they arrived to school, the blonde's assumption was correct since they started to get on the bus. The troublesome class managed to get through the airport in a breeze and without any trouble, there was a bit of a miss-hap during check-in but it was all resolved in a flash.

Marinette, Chloe and Adrien were sitting in the airplane, waiting to take off. She's gotten the seats in economy with extra leg room which were a few rows ahead of the rest of the classroom using the excuse of 'a lot of class president work to do'. Bruce offered to upgrade her and the two blondes to first class so that they wouldn't be disturbed but Marinette politely turned it down. She didn't mind where she was as long as she wasn't near the class, and the mention of first class was bound to cause an uproar.

The bluenette's inner child wanted the window seat, Adrien wanted to be in the seat next to the aisle so he could get first glimpse at the food they were serving, Chloe just wanted to be in the middle for warmth. The seating arrangement worked perfectly. Every once in a while, a flight attendant would drop by to offer food and drinks. There were a few times that flight attendants would ask for one of the three to remind the class of the rules when they didn't listen to the cabin staff, Adrien dealt with the situation since he was the only one they'd actually listen too.

Soon, they landed. The flight had been an easy one since they didn't have to deal with the class's shenanigans while they were in the air. However, that luxury had left when they exited the aircraft.

When traversing through the airport, there had been attempts to get the bluenette lost and attempts to trip her up or gain a significantly bad injury. All attempts failed. Marinette, Chloe and Adrien had managed to weave through passport control peacefully. Even when they were at the baggage claim, not many big efforts were made, besides the classic hiding of the luggage, to rid Marinette of anything. She should've found that suspicious but she was much too tired to care, she barely slept at all on the flight. So when they arrived at the hotel, the first thing she did was lie flat on the bed.

Marinette slept well over nine hours before she woke up. "Tikki, what time is it?"

The kwami too was asleep so at the mention of her name, she yawned. "It's 9:45 am"

"Oh my kwami!" Marinette shot up out of bed to check her phone. Sure enough, there where many notifications of miss calls from Adrien, Chloe, Alix and even Nino. The bus was scheduled to leave at 10:00 but knowing Lila, she was probably over an hour late. The bluenette quickly got changed, brushed her teeth and headed straight towards the hotel doors, ignoring any feeling of hunger.

She pulled her phone out for the directions of Wayne Enterprises and kept her eyes on the screen, completely ignoring the fact that there was someone in the distance directly in her path.

~~~

Jonathan Kent was walking through the streets of Gotham, looking for a present for his best friend. His birthday was in a few days time and the superboy still hadn't found anything. He went to some art shops. Nothing. He went to some antique shops. Still Nothing. He even went to look at kitchen knives. He was that desperate. Jon sighed and continued walking, some shop was bound to peak his interest eventually.

All of a sudden, he heard someone running towards his general direction. Before he could register what was happening, the person ran into him, nearly knocking him down completely.

"Je suis désolé!" A feminine voice shouted out in French. "I-I'm so sorry monsieur!"

Jon then looked up to see a small French bluenette offering her hand to help him up. He gladly took it and when he was back on his feet, he readjusted his glasses to look at the girl properly. She was short, pretty and resembled a Wayne. While this girl was panicking and apologizing profusely, Jon was excited thinking he found a new friend. Though, this excitement didn't last when he saw the state she was in. 'Her bones are a mess! How is she not screaming in pain?'

He waved his hands in front of the girl to get her to stop. "It's fine honestly!" The girl seemed to calm slightly but her face was still worried. "Why you in such a rush anyway?"

"My class and I are visiting on a trip" the bluenette started. "We're supposed to be on our way to a tour but they left me behind"

"They left you all alone? In Gotham?" Jon questioned, 'What kind of stupid are these people?'

"I know right? They-" she was cut off by a notification sound on her phone. "Sorry just a minute"

Jon only then realised how good this French girl's English was. She then let out a sigh of relief and put the phone back in her purse, the blue-eyed boy tried not to use his powers to invade her privacy.

"They're very early, the tour starts in an hour and from the map I'm not far from where I'm meant to be, thank kwami" The young Kent froze at the girl's choice of words, Damian had mentioned that his wife had a companion called a 'kwami'. This couldn't be a coincidence.

"Well since you have time," Jon got the girl's attention. "How do you feel about getting some food? I don't know about you but I'm starving."

"Oh, n-no I could possibly impose-" her stomach grumbled cutting her off. Jon chuckled as he heard the girl whisper profanities.

"Come on I know a place not far from here, you can get a very good few of the WE building" He heard the girl's heart rate speed up a bit, that confirmed where her planned class trip was taking place. He gestured for her to follow him as he sped walked to the location.

When they arrived, they both ordered, Jon ordered a burger while Marinette ordered a cinnamon bun, and sat down. The blue-eyed boy noticed how the girl would always have her thumb in her other palm. He thought her finger could've been resting on a scar similar to Damian's, if she was his wife of course. He decided to test his luck.

"Oh sorry, I forgot to introduce myself" he reached his hand over the table. "My name's Jon Kent" He watched as her eyes widened in recognition and how her heartbeat quickened. "I believe you're Marinette, right?"

Marinette's eyes developed a watery sheen. "Dami's talked about me?"

'Bingo!'

"He talks to me about you every chance he gets" Jon shook the hand Marinette offered and turned it so her palm faced the ceiling. On it was a scar more or less identical to he best friend's. "Whenever he got nervous, sad or overwhelmed, he'd always trace the scar on his hand. I can tell he's thinking of you whenever he does it"

Marinette let a few tears of joy run down her cheek before wiping them away. "S-sorry I'm not usually this emotional" she chuckled. "It's just- I didn't know how to contact Damian and even if I did, I probably couldn't bring myself to talk to him. I thought he hated me for leaving him alone at the League"

Jon snorted. "Him? Hate you? Please, he views you like your his entire world! He was afraid that you hated him! He's drowning in guilt for not being able to get you out of there."

The bluenette sniffed. "Really?" Jon nodded. "C-can I see him again?"

"I don't know where he is right now" Marinette deflated slightly at his words. "But you can definitely meet him! I feel selfish to ask but is it okay for you to wait two days?"

"I've waited many months, a few days is no problem. May I ask why?"

"Well you see his birthday is in a few days and I haven't been able to find him a good gift so... I thought having you two reunited would be a good present" Jon answered, the smile he received was almost blinding.

"That's so sweet of you!" Jon understood how Damian fell for this girl. If sunshine was a person, she would be it.

"So can I see this kwami of yours?" Marinette was confused at how he knew but then she realised that Damian must've told him everything, not that she didn't mind though. "I mean, see it properly?"

"X-ray vision, I should've known" the blue-eyed girl giggled when the boy blinked in surprise. She opened her purse and a red blob flew out. Though it was mostly hidden by Marinette's body, Jon could still see it clearly. He had to cover his mouth to avoid shouting in astonishment. "Jon this is Tikki, my kwami"

"Nice to meet you, son of Superman" Tikki squeaked and Jon's eyes widened in awe as he reached to touch the small creature.

"Wow, you're adorable!" The young boy cooed as the creature giggled.

Marinette wanted the two to interact more but one look at the time told her otherwise. She said goodbye to Damian's best friend and made her way to Wayne Enterprises.

~~~

Despite reading of all the good deeds, the French class were really getting under Dick's skin. First of all, a sausage-hair girl had nearly every student wrapped around her finger, telling stories that were way too good to be true. Secondly, the incompetent teacher didn't bother to control her students, she merely looked at her phone, waving off any students who had questions. And thirdly, they had arrived way too early. The only reasonable looking students that weren't crowding around the brunette were two blondes, one male and one female, and a short skater girl. The only emotions on their face were either anger, annoyance or anxiousness.

When the time for the tour to start was nearing, Dick asked for the teacher to do a headcount. He already knew how many were supposed to be there as he was given a specific amount of badges. There were fifteen in total, not including the teacher. From what he counted, there were only fourteen students, this was confirmed when the teacher's counting stopped at 'Quatorze'. Dick realised it was the class president that wasn't there, he started looking around the main lobby. What really pissed him off was the fact that no one seemed to care that she was left behind, in Gotham for God's sake!

"Have you found her?" A voice from behind Dick asked. It was the blonde boy. "Marinette?"

"No I haven't, the tour starts in seven minutes-" The man cut himself off when someone walked through the lobby doors. She looked to be part of the class. The young bluenette's hair seemed to be ruffled as if she was running for a long time. Dick took a closer look and she was indeed the girl from the file. Determining to know why she was last to arrive, he went to greet her. "Hello, my name is Dick Grayson and I'll be your class's tour guide today"

He didn't fail to notice how her eyes widened in recognition as she took his offered hand and shook it. "Hello Monsieur Dick, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng though I suppose you already know..." her voice trailed off as her eyes lingered to somewhere else in the room before meeting back with his. "I'm really sorry about my lateness"

Dick held one hand to stop her from continuing. "It's fine, the tour starts in three minutes so you got here right on time" The eldest watched Marinette let out a sigh of relief. "I am curious, how come you were last to arrive?"

"Ah well the... bus left early because of something that came up and I wasn't aware of the changes so I got left behind" The bluenette noticed the older man's shocked and angered expression and blurted out, "But I'm here now!"

After some time he nodded and gave Marinette her badge. He then proceeded to gather the class and tell them all the rules and regulations. Soon the tour was under way.

~~~

"So how are the French class, Dildo?" Jason's snarky voice echoed in the manor as Dick entered. What they didn't expect was to be met with a seething Dick.

"Most of them are really horrible, the sausage hair and the glasses girl are the worst. They weren't bad to me though, only to the class president who is, actually, a literal angel" The eldest huffed. "They kept sliding in mean comments about her here and there, it was disgusting. The worst part is, she acts as if they do this regularly! You should've seen the way her eyes dulled as she got on the bus with that... that class!"

"That bad huh?" Jason asked.

The eldest son nodded. "Bruce is definitely gonna want to adopt her the moment he's in the same room as her"

Jason hummed. "I'd like to meet this girl your talking about, I'll ask B if I can join next tour as security. In the mean time, bet fifty I get the best gift for the Demon Brat"

Dick let out a overly exaggerated gasp of offense while laying a hand on his chest. "No way! I bet a hundred!"

~~~

The next day was the day of the next tour, Jason tagged along this time. Luckily, Marinette was on the bus when the class arrived but she wasn't looking too good.

"God, she looks exhausted and starved to death!" Jason muttered into Dick's ear. He nodded and walked over to greet the class.

"Welcome back to your second tour! Today, Jason"- Dick gestured towards the man with two-toned hair- "will be joining us today. As an extra security measure. Now, follow me please!" The eldest son began the tour with half-filled enthusiasm, this was Jason's queue to go to the back and interact with the class president.

The man stayed near the back, not making it obvious he was trying to start a conversation with the girl, when he heard the brunette at the front spewing lies. Jason hadn't spoken French in a while but he could still understand the language.

"You don't actually believe what she's saying do you?" Jason asked the young girl. She snorted in response.

"Of course not, only an idiot would believe the words that come out of her rotten excuse of a mouth. They aren't even that good" The older man laughed and the girl's eyes widened. "S-sorry! I don't usually think before I talk when I'm tired"

"No no, you have a point" Jason held his hand up, as much as he could considering her height compared to his own, to the small girl. "The name's Jason Todd"

The bluenette smiled and took his hand. "Marinette, Marinette Dupain-Cheng..." Marinette trailed off on her last name, 'Is that not her last name? The files are always correct so maybe... she's not proud of her name?' "So what's the real reason why you joined the tour today?"

Jason was impressed as she expertly diverted the spotlight of the conversation onto himself. "For extra security"

Marinette gave the older man an unimpressed look. "I deal with that liar all the time, Jason" He blinked before the girl was smiling once more. "You can't lie to me Jay" she said in a sing-song voice.

The older man jokingly sighed and ruffled her hair. "Well since you asked so kindly, Dickhead over there-" he nodded his head in the direction of his older brother- "noticed how most of your classmates are treating you. That was probably the most pissed I've seen him in a long time. So I wanted to see which little lady was able to cause an overprotective spark in him, now I completely understand why he felt that way"

The girl then sniffed and smiled at Jason sadly. "I...Thank you" she whispered to the man with two-toned hair. "It's been a long time since someone other than my friends have said that they were worried about me"

Jason's smile faltered before it turned into a sad but encouraging one. "Hey, Dick and I are here if you ever need someone to talk to. Wait-" Jason's attention diverted to the blonde boy in the room, the one that was originally hanging out with the small girl. "Hey isn't that your friend?"

Marinette turned in the direction Jason was looking at, there was Lila who was on the arm of a very uncomfortable looking Adrien. The bluenette sighed. "Yeah he is. If you're wondering why he's with the liar is because of his father. You see, back in Paris he's quite famous so his father can be overbearing. I odn't know what the liar said to him but now he wants Adrien to keep the girl happy at all costs"

"Can't he just disobey the old man?"

"He did try but the punishment was for him to be home-schooled which he has been more or less his entire life. But I guess it's gotten better since before Adrien didn't want to call out her lies since he thought they weren't hurting anyone"

Jason scoffed. "Her lies definitely hurt those involved"

"Exactly, luckily he managed to realise that after he overheard one of Lie-la's confrontations. He tries his best to sugarcoat his words when he's calling her out but he still hates conflict. He's just with her so she doesn't turn into an akuma. Not that it's working since she's already been akumatized more than seven times"

"Sorry, akuma what-a?"

Marinette shot him a confused look before her eyes widened slightly in realisation. "I can explain at lunch"

Jason seemed hesitant but nodded anyway.

~~~

Marinette grabbed her food tray, narrowly avoided all the feet that tried to trip her up and sat at an empty lunch table.

"Hi, Mari!" Dick's cheerful voice made his presence known as he sat next to her, lunch tray in hand. "So has Jason been good?"

"Yeah! It's nice to have someone to talk to-"

She was interrupted by Jason slamming his lunch tray on the table, sitting opposite Marinette. "Alright Pixie Pop, explain what an Akuma Matata is"

"Pixie Pop?" The bluenette giggled.

"Akuma whata?" The eldest asked.

"Pixie Pop because you're small and feisty. As for the Akuma thing, Pixie will kindly explain right now" Jason replied, eager to know what an Akuma is.

"Well-"

"I did not have enough coffee for this" A new voice spoke up from behind Marinette. The person it belonged to sit next to Jason, coffee cup in hand and slammed his face on the table.

"That's Tim, our younger brother" Dick answered the bluenette's unasked question. Tim's head looked up as if he just registered that there was someone else on the table.

Her reached his hand across the table with as much energy as a sleep-deprived zombie could give. "Tim Drake"

"Marinette" she returned the hand shake. 'I'm right, these are Dami's brothers' "So like I was saying, an akuma is like a butterfly infused with magic. When it comes in contact with an inanimate object that is being touched by someone who's experiencing strong negative emotions, it turns them into an akuma villain. " She paused so that the men at the table could process what she was saying. "Hawkmoth is the one who sends the akumas, once the connection is made they have no choice but to obey. Even if they try to fight him off, they all succumb eventually."

"So a magic butterfly man, got it"

"When you put it that way, it doesn't sound believable" Marinette giggled at Jason's conclusion.

"What kind of negative emotions does it have to be? Are the Akumas... dangerous?" Dick asked, clearly more concerned that his younger brother.

The bluenette's eyes seemed to age at his statement. "Humiliation, depression, rejection, isolation, anything that makes you feel disheartened really. As for how dangerous there are well... there are different levels to classify each akuma"

All three gestured for her to continue.

"Some are low level, level one, like Mr Pidgeon-" She here's a scoff but continued as if she wasn't interrupted. "- he's a regular but relatively harmless. The highest level is an akuma like Syren" she shuddered at the memory, "Her powers allowed her to flood the entirety of Paris, drowning nearly half of the entire population"

"H-how did this not make international news" Tim asked, bringing his laptop out and furiously typing, though, receiving no results for what the girl just said.

"That would be courtesy of our heroes. One of Ladybug's powers is to heal anything damaged by the powers of the miraculous, she can fix objects, buildings and even resurrect those who died. She can't get rid of the memories unfortunately" She said the last part bitterly, disappointed in herself for not being able to help her citizens.

"What's a miraculous?" Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

"Magical jewelry basically, its what gives the heroes their powers. Its also what Hawkmoth wants, the Ladybug Miraculous and the Miraculous of the Black Cat" she put a finger on her chin to mimic thinking like a civilian. "My best guess is that if he gets the miraculous, he becomes very powerful"

"Have you ever, you know... died?" Dick asked, concern weighing heavily in his voice.

"No, I'm I guess one of the 'lucky few' to not have been killed yet."

They soon conversed in the topic of Hawkmoth and Mayura, each one of the men despised the villains at the end of her rant. All too soon, it was time to leave. She waved goodbye and rushed with her class back to the hotel. Once she reached her room, the bluenette rummaged through her suitcases, ignoring a confused Chloe. Once she found the outfit she wanted to wear, Marinette placed it onto her nightstand.

"I met Jon today"

"Whose he?" Chloe voiced her confusion.

"Jon is Damian's best friend" The bluenette reiterated. "He's bringing me with him to the manor so that we can see each other again"

"That's nice of him"

"To be honest, I think you and Jon would hit it off quite well"

Marinette stifled a giggle when she heard Chloe's signature 'Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous'. The bluenette fell onto her bed, she was going to get as much sleep as she could with her bubbling excitement.

~~~

The bluenette stared at her reflection. She wore a deep velvet, off-the-shoulder blouse with a black cotton skirt, her hair was tied up in an intricate design. Even with the compliments her two best friends kept showering her with, Marinette didn't feel ready. She would be meeting her husband after nearly a year long separation, of course she was a nervous wreck.

After some light encouragement from both Chloe and Adrien, Marinette went down the stairs to the lobby where Jon would be picking her up. It was delightful to see how far the boy was willing to go to make his best friend happy, it reminded Marinette of her friendship with Chloe, Adrien, Kagami and Luka. Upon reaching the lobby, she noticed the blue-eyed boy and briskly walked over.

"Hey Jon" she greeted the boy, he probably knew she was already there thanks to his powers.

"Hi Mari!- Wow! You look nice. I swear Dami's gonna fall for you all over again" Jon compliment made Marinette have an serge of pride. "Come on let's go! My father and Damian's family are waiting for me well, us really"

"Okay, how are we supposed to get there?" Marinette's question ignited a cheeky smile on the sunshine boy's face.

"Have you ever flown before?"

~~~

Clark Kent was at Wayne Manor, celebrating his best friend's son's birthday, who just also so happens to be best friends with his own son. 'That was too confusing for my own good'. He, along with Bruce and the others, have already given Damian his gifts. Jon insisted that he had the best present so he would go last.

"Since I'm his best friend, I have the best gift meaning that I should go last"

While waiting for his son to arrive, Mar'i gave Damian a piece of art that she made and he went up to his room to find a frame. In this moment, most of the occupants in the room turned to him.

"Have you heard Jon yet? I'd like to see what this 'present' is." Dick questioned first, Clark tilted his head but he didn't hear his son at all. He opened his mouth to answer before promptly closing it shut, Jon had just landed in the garden and was making his way inside, by them Damian and Mar'i had returned.

"Hello my very bestest friend! Happy happy birthday to you!" Jon tackled Damian in a hug before quickly pulling back as to not get pushed off. "It is time to present my gift to you!"

Damian's brothers perked up, they had bet on whether or not Jon was true to his present being the best, Dick voted for while Jason and Tim voted against.

"But no one other than Damian is allowed to see the present" Without seeing what their reaction to his statement was, Jon dragged Damian outside. The brothers huffed before running upstairs, Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing and followed his sons onto the upper floor window with Clark close behind. Clark knew that Bruce was just as curious as his boys, he just hid it very well. When they made it to the window, they saw Jon telling Damian to sit on one of the garden's benches with his eyes closed.

"Is this really necessary?" They heard Damian's unamused voice. Upon hearing Jon's confirmation, Damian sighed and closed his eyes. The adults watched as Jon went off to somewhere out of their vision.

~~~

"Yep!"

Jon's voice echoed through the garden, hitting Marinette with the realisation that her and her husband would be reunited. A flurry of emotions dawned in her head. First nervousness, then excitement and finally, anticipation. She had gotten so caught up that she barely noticed the blue-eyed boy bounding up towards her. He gave her an encouraging smile before gesturing for the bluenette to follow him. Sensing her anxious hesitation, he gently took her wrist and pulled the girl towards the green-eyes boy, who was still sitting on the bench with his hands over his eyes.

'Here goes nothing'

~~~

He'd heard Jon's footsteps scurry away around a minute ago, he didn't know why but he tingled with anticipation when he heard his self-proclaimed best friend return. Though as soon as Damian heard the boy return, he immediately ran off to god knows where. But before the confusion settled in, he was hit with the familiar scent of vanilla and cherry blossoms, the scent he thought he'd never have the privilege to come across again. Damian's head shot up to face the beautiful bluenette he had the honor of calling his wife. The voice to whom the aroma belonged to spoke.

"You know, you really should've told me when your birthday was. I could've made you a gift..." Her voice, though barely above a whisper, was as loud as needed for Damian, her voice trailed off as the tears in her eyes built up.

Without at a moment's hesitation, the bluenette was soon spun in the air with the end result being engulfed in her husband's arms. "Having you in my arms again is the best gift I could have asked for"

Marinette couldn't hold back the tears of pure euphoria that rolled down her cheeks. Damian had noticed Jon spectating form the side, radiating excitement like a puppy, but he paid no attention to his self-proclaimed best friend. All that mattered was they were together once more.

The way fate had designed.

———

Bonus:

Dick: hang on he's coming back with, mARINETTE?!

Jason: WHaT?! How does the brat know her?!

Tim: what are they saying, Clark?

Clark: *smiling while wiping a fake tear of happiness* how sweet

Dick: im confused

*batfam (and clark)* run down the stairs and go outside to see Jon nearly combusting in joy*

Jon: *turns to the fam* told you I'd get the best gift

Jason: okay demon brat tell me how you know pixie pop!

Damian: *turns to face jason with an unimpressed look with mari snuggled under his chin* she's my wife

Batfam: *exe.batfamily has stopped working*

Dick: WHAT :D?!

Jason: WHAT THE FU-

Tim: WHAT

Bruce: *whispers* there goes the adoption papers

Bruce: well it's a pleasure to meet my daughter-in-law in person, but how did you end up getting married in the first place?

Damian and Marinette: *look at each other* Mother/ His mother

Bruce: *sighs*

Jason: okay let me go get my guns to murder that sausage-haired girl

Damian: todd no

Jason: *whips around, confused* wh-

Damian: i want to be the one to spill some Italian blood

Jason: *evilly grins*

Bruce and Marinette: nO KILLING-

#daminette #damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #damianette #mlb x dc #ml x dc #Someone help my arms are dying #thEY HURT SO MUCH-

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shyficwriter · 3 years

Text

Temporary Home: Chapter 17

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Peter, grasping for straws to remain 'The Prank Master,' thinks he's found a way to annoy you into conceding. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to him, what he's found is something much worse.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Content Warning for descriptions/mentions of PTSD and flashbacks. Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 34 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 6,761

Red covered your mouth and nose, all over your hand, and a bit on your sheets. You blearily tried to gather your senses, tried to open your eyes against the unforgiving light that blinded you.

Peter stood over you, laughing. Telling you that you got what was coming to you as you groaned.

That fecker had put ketchup in your hand while you slept and then tickled your nose with one of the fuzzy-tipped novelty pens on your desk. The dickhead.

"Ugh! Gross! Dude!?" you complain, sitting up and reaching over to grab the tissues off your desk so you could clean yourself up.

"Serves you right for what you did to me!" Peter countered, gesturing to the blue staining his body. He began to walk out of your room, making sure to let you know that you shouldn't expect the two of you were even.

You roll your eyes and continue wiping the ketchup-y mess off of you. You glance down at your sheets and realized you'd need to wash them today too. Great. Guess this is what you got for sleeping-in.

Once you had finally cleaned yourself up you gathered your sheets to take them downstairs to wash them, but not before making a pit-stop to Peter's room. Wanting to make the trip quick you grabbed the first thing you could find- his comb- and pocketed it. It was about to have a date with some jelly.

As you turned to leave his room you saw Rocket standing in the hall just outside the door.

With a knowing grin he asked, "Whatcha doin' there?"

"Nothing," you answer flatly, gathering your sheets back up.

He let you pass but said, "So I guess I didn't just see you steal Quill's comb, then?" There was amusement in his voice.

"He'll get it back," you answer, not pausing in your walk towards the stairs.

"What do you plan on doing to it?" he asked, intrigued. He had no intents to squeal on you. This prank-y-ness was a side of you he had been pleasantly surprised to see. Much better the the stiff agent-type you usually liked to display. Had he maybe misjudged you?

"The less you know the better," you answered, continuing down the stairs.

No witnesses. Rocket liked your style. Maybe you didn't have such a stick up your butt after all.

***

You threw your sheets in the washer and put the kettle on. It was time to make some jelly.

While waiting for the kettle you grabbed the packet of jelly from the pantry and something quick for breakfast. Deciding on a granola bar, you go to pull one from the box when you also notice that all your spices had been flipped upside down. Obviously Peter's doing. That's also when you remember that you had hidden the rest of the food dye behind the spices, prompting you to give a quick peek to see that the box was still there.

It wasn't.

Peter must have found it while setting up his prank and took them, intent on making the two of you "even."

Crap.

The kettle began to whistle and you pulled yourself out of your thoughts of doom to start fixing the jelly. You could think about the dye later. Right now you had mischief to make.

You mix up the jelly in a glass bowl, adding in an extra packet of gelatin to make sure the shape would hold later. Then, looking around to make sure no one was around, you take Peter's comb out of your pocket and drop it in. The bowl was just big enough for the comb to catch on the sides roughly about halfway deep in the jelly water, so that when you turned it out it would be nicely suspended in the green jelly. You then quickly take the bowl to the fridge to set, burying it in the back on the bottom shelf so it hopefully wouldn't be seen.

Then you simply went about your day as normal.

***

Other than several bad puns, Peter surprisingly didn't attempt much to annoy you that day, and you had no doubts that it was because he was confident that he'd be able to return the favor in dyeing you an odd color when you showered tonight.

Not if you had anything to say about it.

Too bad for him he had no way to know that you knew, and you were confident that you could deal with it when that time came if you paid enough attention. For now you were just going to act none-the-wiser, and accept his invitation to watch a show with the others.

You settled in on the couch and the episode starts. It's a title you haven't heard of before.

Watching it you gathered it was a type of mystery/detective/thriller type that was somehow also a comedy. A detective was accused of killing this old lady, and he was on the run to try and prove his innocence. Lots of action, a bunch of red-herrings, overall not a bad show so far if you had to judge by this episode.

Then there was the end-scene.

The detective finally found the actual murderer, the mayor, and after tricking him into broadcasting his confession over the radio in this abandoned radio station- where he somehow had managed to make a broadcast work- the two fight. Only the mayor has a gun, and the detective's fell into a storm drain two scenes ago.

Through his cunning the detective manages to escape alive, but not unharmed. He's got a compound fracture to his leg. Cops are on the scene and arresting the mayor after surrounding him at gunpoint, and ambulances can be heard in the background.

You feel the hair on your arms stand up.

The sound of the sirens just keeps getting louder.

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

They get louder. You look away from the screen into your lap.

All you can hear now is sirens. You don't realize they've already stopped on the screen. There's now instead dialogue, a conversation between characters, but you are unaware of it.

Your hands clench into fists, nails digging into your palms. You fight the images in your head. You don't want to see them. You hear sounds of tearing metal. Sirens. Screaming. Beeping. Your breathing gets shallow and you work to keep it quiet. You had to fight it back. Sirens. Bright lights. Glass shattering. Screaming. Sirens. You keep saying to yourself inside your mind that it's ok. You're ok. But what about-

Kraglin makes a comment to Yondu about something said on screen. You don't hear him. You only hear the sirens. God, why won't they stop? Screeching. Sirens. Blinding lights. Sirens.

Yondu turns to reply to Kraglin, but sees you looking strange. He raises an eyebrow, which Kraglin notices. He follows Yondu's gaze and sees you staring into your lap, body rigid, hands balled tightly into fists. Your eyes are wide, but unseeing. Your jaw is set.

Before either of them can say a word the buzzer on the washer goes off and you seem to jolt out of it, quickly hopping up and making your way out of the room.

Yondu and Kraglin share a look. What was that about?

***

You didn't return for another episode. Instead, you decided it was a nice enough day to hang your washing on the line. It hardly took you any time at all to finish, but you decide to stay outside for a bit anyways. Fresh air and all that.

Everything was fine. You were ok.

When you finally come back in it's well after a suitable lunchtime, and realizing that the only thing you had today was a granola bar, you decide to cut up an apple and sit at the table, scrolling on your phone as you eat.

Yondu comes into the kitchen for a drink and joins you at the table. "Where'd you go runnin' off to?" he asks, "Decide you didn't like the show?" What he really wanted to ask was what had prompted that look in your eyes earlier, but he knew better than to just come out an ask. You'd just deny anything had happened.

"Had laundry to dry," you answer, not looking up from your phone.

"Ya were gone an awful long time for laundry." Yondu said, not missing that you completely ignored his question about the show. But the question still bugged him. He recognized the look in your eyes back then. He remembered sometimes catching it in the eyes of some of the older battle slaves in the barracks when he was younger. It was the look one had when they were flashing back to something horrific they had been through. He and the other younger battle slaves were always told by other elders to leave those be when they were "stuck in it", as they would say. Don't disturb them. They'll come out of it. Nothing for it but to let it pass.

That never did sit right with him.

"It's a nice day. Thought I'd enjoy it," you answered.

Yondu hummed shortly. You weren't giving him anything, and he knew you wouldn't.

He decided not to press it for now, but he could tell something had triggered that response from you, he just didn't know what. He suspected it had something to do with whatever it was that you kept locked away inside. He had clues and suspicions as to what, but of course he couldn't be sure, though he was more determined now than he had previously been to figure you out. Only one thing was certain. You had pain inside you. A lot of it. No one should have to go through that alone.

***

Kraglin, unlike Yondu, wasn't nearly as subtle when he saw you next. However, he wouldn't get any further.

"Mind if I help?" he asked, joining you in the garden where you were pulling a few weeds.

"Go for it," you reply, barely looking up. There weren't many to pull, as it was starting to get cooler lately. You mostly just came out for something to do. Soon it'd be time to harvest the whole garden.

The two of you work in silence for a bit. Then, Kraglin asks, "So, um, was you alright earlier? I mean, saw that ya looked mighty shaken when we was watching that show."

"Don't know what you're talking about," you answer, standing up and tossing the weeds you picked over to the compost bucket.

Kraglin looked up to meet your gaze, frowning. He was about to say something along the lines that you were full of shit, but he stopped himself when he saw your stern expression. You weren't just denying it. With just those few words, combined with the subtly hard look on your face, you were outright telling him that he didn't see whatever it was that he thought he saw.

He exhaled out his nose and just gave you a look that said that he didn't believe you, but he wouldn't push it. He could see that you would just shut him out, and he felt like it wasn't his place to press it.

Suddenly a gunshot rang out, breaking the awkward silence and causing you both to jump.

You sigh, not appreciating the jolt, and said, "Damn hunters."

Kraglin nodded and tried to take this distraction as an opportunity to change the subject. If you wouldn't open up, maybe he could try and make you smile instead. "So... nice job on dyeing Pete blue last night. Real funny."

"I certainly thought so," you said.

He almost thought he saw you crack a smile. Wanting to bring about a full grin he decided to tell a story. "Yeah, it was just like this time Pete rigged a dye pack up in one of Yondu's drawers, I think he mentioned it last night. Anyway, so somehow Pete rigs it up, I think he got mad at Cap'n for making him scrub the grease traps or somethin', but anyway then Yondu goes to open his drawer one mornin,' yeah? And he's blasted in the face with this red dye. Ohhh boy! He was madder than a muzzled Flerken!!"

The mental image was enough to make your lips curl up involuntarily.

Kraglin noted this and continued, "What's worse is he had to meet with some lady client the next day about a job, and he couldn't get it off. He was this funny shade of purple for over a week!"

A short laugh suddenly breaks through your throat and you look at him. "Really?" you ask, mirth in your eyes. The mental image of the blue man looking quite cross and splattered purple while trying to commit space pirate business dealings was a humorous one.

"Yeah. He grounded Pete for so long after that." Kraglin replied, chuckling.

"I'll bet," you say as you stand up and brush yourself off, now finished with weeding and prepared to go inside. "Thanks. For helping in the garden, I mean." you say.

Kraglin also stands. "Not a problem, ma'am."

You wince and shake you head as you turn back to the house. You thought of telling him to knock it off with the 'ma'am' stuff, but you were concerned with what might replace it. So you left it alone for now.

***

You were on alert when you got ready for your shower that evening. You knew Peter had plenty of opportunity to have tampered with your bath products, but you played it cool. Acted unaware.

The plan? Beat him at his own game.

First you turned on the shower and let it run. You cupped your hands beneath the stream to make sure the water wasn't an odd color.

All clear.

You get into the shower, deciding to inspect your shampoo and conditioner bottles first. You felt it was unlikely he'd put it in those, as it would be unlikely to have a decent enough payoff for him, but you still checked just in case. Your shampoo bottle was see-through and the liquid inside clear, so it was obvious it had gone untampered. You went ahead and used it.

Time for conditioner. Unscrewing the top you look inside the conditioner. Completely white. Untampered. Good.

Finally you checked your body wash. It was a rose scented type and was already colored pink. If he was was going to strike anywhere, it would likely be there with the red dye. You squirted a little into a rag to test it on your hip, an inconspicuous area. You didn't even need to use it before you realized you were right. The body wash came out much darker than usual. It was like he hadn't even mixed it. Actually, that's likely exactly what he did. He probably wanted to make sure as much dye got on you as possible and so just squirted it right on top. Just out of curiosity, however, you still tested it.

Yep. It left a red steak right on your hip. You catch a glance at Peter's bottle on the shower shelf, and grin.

Silly Peter. He shouldn't have forgotten his bottle in the shower. Again.

You reach out of the shower for a new washcloth, and use some of his body wash instead. Of course, not before testing it on the first rag to make sure it wasn't left behind on purpose as a trap. It wasn't. The test proved it free of dye and safe to use.

For now.

Once you finished washing you then unscrewed the top off of Peter's bottle and carefully poured in as much of the dye from the top of your tampered bottle as you could without getting it on your hands. You had to sacrifice a little of the soap down the drain just to make sure it would come out clean the next time you used it.

Was he sure to notice? Probably, but you didn't care. You'd be just as happy with the message it would deliver if nothing else.

He was going to see that you were the Prank Master here.

***

Once finished with your shower you retreated to your bedroom. On the way you could hear Peter in his room asking Gamora if she had seen his comb, and you grinned. You sure knew where his comb was.

Mantis is gathering her own stuff together to take a shower when you enter the room. You glance at what she's carrying to make sure she has enough soap. God forbid she might run out and then use Peter's instead of yours. You actually would feel bad if the prank accidentally hit her instead of Peter. Satisfied that she does you shut your door behind her and wait, unable to keep a grin from splitting your face.

Perhaps half an hour later, a good bit after Mantis had returned from her shower, you can hear Peter shouting.

"Are you KIDDING me!?"

Mantis looks towards the sound in shock before turning to see you covering your giggles with your hand.

Now you can hear Peter cursing your name.

"What did you do?" Mantis asks, both intrigued and alarmed.

"He tried to get me back for turning him blue by putting red dye in my soap. I found out and turned it back on him," you answered, nearly stuttering over your giggles.

"How?"

"I just poured the tainted soap into his bottle. Now he'll have been dyed twice." You grinned, but it fell shortly when you heard the bathroom door slam open and heard his footsteps coming in the direction of your room. You jumped up and quickly flicked the lock just before he reached the door.

The knob jiggled and then he started to pound on the door, cursing your name and demanding you come out.

Feeling cheeky, you answered, "Nobody's home!"

From the other side Peter said loudly, "Come out here, you coward!"

"Do you need something?" you ask, your grin wide.

"You. Out here. Now."

"Whatever for?" You're have a real hard time biting back your laughter. Mantis is sitting on her bed, hugging her bear and openly giggling.

"You know exactly what for!"

You look to Mantis. "Should I?" you chuckle.

"YES! You should!" answered Peter from the other side of the door.

"Didn't ask you!" you retort. You look back to Mantis and she nods excitedly. She wanted to see what had happened to Peter.

"Alright," you answer, loud enough for Peter to hear as well. You unlock the door and slowly open it.

You tried to hold it in. Honestly, you did. But the sight of Peter standing there in his pajama bottoms, and now purple where he had previously been blue, and a pinkish-red just about everywhere else you could see, you lost it.

Your laughter, combined with seeing that you didn't have a spec of dye on you, made Peter cry out in frustration. "HOW?!"

"It-It's your fault," you laughed. "You left a trail!"

Peter narrowed his eyes. "I did not leave a trail!"

"You did! I-I saw you had taken the rest of the dye and I knew what you'd do with it. Dude, you- you really should have left the box behind. I might not have noticed then." It was all you could do to say the sentence coherently as you tried to hold back your giggles. "How did you not notice I turned it around and poured it back in your bottle? Don't you look??"

As Peter sputtered indignantly for a reply you noticed that you again had an audience. Yondu and Kraglin stood at the bottom of the stairs, grinning up at the scene and shaking their heads. Rocket and Drax were standing by their room, Drax chuckling with a giggling Groot on his shoulder and Rocket almost looking impressed. Almost. Gamora was standing across the landing, shaking her head, though it appeared more out of second-hand embarrassment for Peter rather than disdain for you.

"Don't I- You- I'm- UGH!" Peter sputtered in frustration. He had half a mind to tickle you until you peed your pants for this- Well, not literally, though he wouldn't be above threatening it. He may be an asshole, but he wasn't 100% a dick. Regardless, the other half of his brain was too busy trying to think of any suitable comeback... and failing. He was The Prank Master! How were you beating him at his game? He glared at you. He wanted to wipe that smirk off your face. "You think you're so funny, don't you?! Just wait. You better watch your back. I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

"You're not going to do anything, Peter." It was Gamora who spoke now, her tone teetering somewhere between warning and exhaustion, with a hint of amusement buried somewhere in there. "She beat you at your own game. Go to bed."

You couldn't stop the grin that split your face if your life depended on it. You took a calculated step back, hand resting on your door. You put on your most innocent voice. "So..." you started. "Does this mean I'm The Prank Master, now?"

The look in Peter's eyes could have vaporized you. "That's it!" he cried, stepping towards you. He wasn't sure what he'd do when he got hold of you. Hold you in a headlock until you apologized? Wet Willie? Both? Neither? Didn't matter. All he knew was you were going to pay for this.

However, he'd never get the chance. You were too fast, slamming the door in his face and flicking the lock just before he could get near.

You and Mantis doubled over laughing and Peter sputtered some more empty threats before Gamora could be heard scolding him and telling him to go to bed.

It was even better the second time.

***

The next morning you were, dare you say, cheerful.

Peter, less so. He was still a bit cranky that not only had he been the victim of the dye prank twice, just one night after the first, but that it had happened because he tried to get you back and you turned the tables on him. Sure, he had cooled down a bit from last night, but he was still an uneven purple/pinkish-red mess and the others kept snickering at him. Even Gamora had been caught hiding a grin behind her hand a couple of times.

It wasn't fair. He was determined to get you back, but how would-

He spotted something on the kitchen table, interrupting his thoughts. Something shiny, and green, and was that...?

Oh you were going to get it.

***

You were minding your own business, walking over to one of the bookcases in the sitting room, when suddenly you were accosted.

Peter had pulled you into a headlock from behind.

"Hey! What the hell! Let me go!" you demanded.

"Tell me you're sorry and I'll think about it!"

You had a feeling what this was about, but you played dumb. "I'm not going to apologize for turning the tables back around on you! It was your own fault for trying."

"That's not what I mean and you know it!"

You started softly laughing despite the moderate chokehold. You couldn't help it. "Did you- Did you ever find your comb?"

Suddenly you feel something wet in your ear. You knew there was only one thing it could be. "Ew! No! Peter!" you squeal, trying to squirm away. "That's disgusting! Stop it!"

Peter was chuckling now, still giving you a wet willie. "Say you're sorry!"

You jerk against him. "Never!" You were laughing despite really only having one hand to fight him with. The limited range on your brace made it so you couldn't bend your elbow enough to grab his arm with that hand, and you were standing too close to the bookcase to throw him over you and get out of the headlock. Well, too close to do it without hurting him, or your books, that is. You were stuck, but you still weren't going to give in.

Turns out you wouldn't need to.

"Alright. Break it up," came Yondu's voice from somewhere off to the side. "What's going on here?"

Peter released you and you rubbed your ear against your shoulder to get the wet feeling out of it. "She put my stuff in Jello!" he complained.

Yondu gave you a weird, albeit amused look. "Don't ya think ya did enough to him already, missy?" He wasn't scolding you, but he actually was surprised you were still on the attack after having seemingly won the war last night.

Fighting a grin you reply, "In my defense, I'd already done that before the dye thing. I only found out he was planning that afterwards," Technically not the full truth- you actually found out during the setup of the jelly prank, not after, but it was close enough, "and what was I supposed to do, not turn the tables back on him when I found out?"

Peter punches you in the shoulder, but there was no anger behind it, just cheekiness. You stick your tongue out at like a child in retaliation.

Yondu grinned and shook his head. It'd been awhile since he'd seen his boy carefree and goofing off like this, even if he was bickering with you like the two of you were kids. Still, he should maybe try to persuade a stop to the prank war again before things escalated any more and you two killed each other. It'd be a shame to save him from Ego just to let him die in a prank war of all things, and bad form to let him kill their host. "Boy, I think ya might need to accept that she won this round." he said, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"I will do no such thing! She just got lucky." Peter replied.

You smirked. "Yeah. Sure. 'Lucky'," you taunt. "Just say it and I'll call us even."

"EVEN?!" Peter exclaimed. He gestured to the stained purple and pinkish red of the areas of skin you could see. "Look at me!"

Trying not to smile you slowly look down to the brace on your arm. Head cocked to the side your eyes look back to Peter. "You were saying?"

Peter bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. You could tell he wanted to retort with something, but he knew he had no leg to stand on. Eventually he settled for, "I'm still not saying it."

Yondu snorted a laugh. "Whatever it is, just be a man and say it, boy. Quit while yer ahead."

Peter looked at him indignantly. "I am not going to declare her The Prank Master."

Unable to suppress your grin any longer you nudge him in the shoulder and say in your sweetest voice, "It's ok, you don't have to say it," taking a few steps away you add, "We already know." You then jogged out of the way when he made a grab for you.

You made your way out the front door, but he didn't follow, instead just stood there pouting.

"Ya finally gonna give it up, boy? Take yer loss like a man?" Yondu chuckled, teasingly.

"Never." Peter responded, too busy plotting revenge to fully catch the "take it like a man" part as he walked out of the room.

Yondu chuckled and rolled his eyes as he went to take a seat on the sofa. It was nice to see that you had a goofy side, though he wondered if it was Peter rubbing off on you, or if you had just had it buried under layers of stubbornness and sass.

Either way, it seemed certain that the boy was gonna have to relinquish his self-proclaimed title of "The Prank Master."

***

Over the next couple days the pranks between you and Peter had slowed down. This was likely in part because of how you made Peter realize that he couldn't complain too much about getting even for the dye prank if he considered that you were still in a brace as a result from one of his previous pranks gone wrong, but also in part because the two of you had pulled so many pranks so far you were seemingly running out of ideas.

Peter moved the furniture in your sitting room 3 inches to the left, likely to get your back for putting his comb in jelly.

You retaliated by setting up some cling film up at head height in the kitchen doorway for him to walk into and then calling him into the kitchen.

He got back at you by swapping your salt and sugar out, thereby ruining what would have been a perfectly good cup of tea.

For this high crime, you decided to get him back by scrapping out a couple Oreos and filling them with toothpaste. He was most definitely not fond of that one. Called it a crime against nature, and he may have been right, but so was what he had done to your tea.

Other than that, nothing really escalated, well apart from the oreos and tea, that is. The two of you kept making little jabs at each other and annoying one another. Really bad puns, petty insults, that sort of thing.

You did assume, however, that Peter was just biding his time, trying to think of something big that he could spring on you that might make you give up the game and declare him The Prank Master, because gods knew he wasn't going to concede.

And you'd be right.

Peter spent a decent amount of time brainstorming ideas for a really good prank, or even just a decent way to annoy you, in between all the smaller ones, but he was coming up with nothing he deemed quite good enough.

He was about to consider throwing in the towel when you inadvertently provided him with the fodder he needed.

***

It was the fourth day since the first dye prank and most of the dye on Peter had worn off by now.

You were reading on the couch, little Groot was playing with the TV and flipping through random videos on the YouTube app with Drax, and Peter and Kraglin were in the middle of a card game at the table on the other side of the room.

In what you would chalk up to a cruel twist of fate, Groot managed to find his way into a video of ambulance calls.

Rudely and immediately torn from your book by the sound, your hand shoots out for the TV remote and you mute the TV, much to the dismay of little Groot, who had found the noise fun and had been cheering the siren on. As calmly as you can despite your rapid heartbeat, you ask Drax, who was confused by your behavior, to please tell Groot to find something else to watch.

Drax looks at you strangely, but translates for Groot anyway, which again, only sounded to you like he was repeating your words verbatim due to his translator. You still didn't know that the translators didn't actually translate into Groot, but rather Groot had just picked up and could understand a bit of Galactic Standard, even if he couldn't speak it.

Groots looks slightly disappointed for a second but agrees and switches videos and you unmute the TV.

You didn't bother checking what new video he had chosen. That had been a mistake.

After the ad finished playing you were jerked back into reality from your book by the sounds of now multiple ambulance calls going at once. You mute the TV once again and say, "I'm sorry. I should have been more clear. Anything else. Anything else except for videos of that sound."

Drax, rightfully confused, asks, "Why?"

"I do not like it." is all you offer, and you don't elaborate when asked.

Peter, of course, overhears all this, and thinks he's found his new way to annoy you. He of course had no way of knowing the reason you couldn't bare the sound wasn't due to annoyance. He had no way of knowing its effect on you.

***

He tested the waters the next day after lunch.

You were washing up the dishes with Gamora when the sound of an ambulance siren makes you freeze in the middle of drying a bowl.

Gamora turns her head towards the noise and wonders aloud what it was.

Without answering you take towards the direction of the sitting room to, gently, scold Groot for playing those videos again.

Of course, when you get there, you only see Peter, who pretended to be surprised to see you.

"Turn that off," you say sharply.

"What?" Peter asked innocently.

You didn't ask him again. You just grabbed the control and exited the video before throwing the control back down into his lap. "Don't play that again," you warn.

"Why? Does it annoy you?" Peter asked with a smirk. He didn't notice your hands shaking.

Your eyes hardened. "Just don't," you say, returning to the kitchen.

Peter grinned. He was going to have fun with this.

***

Peter would play that sound three more times that afternoon, each time eliciting a more irritated response from you until you finally ripped the plug to the TV out of the wall and turn to him to angrily yell, "Stop it!"

"What?" Peter asked, chuckling in surprise at your latest response. You must really hate that noise.

"You know exactly what. I'm seriously, genuinely asking you to knock it off," you reply.

Gamora, who could tell Peter was working your last nerve and who was also becoming irritated by the repeated playing of the sirens, nudged Peter and told him he had his fun.

Peter half smirked and seemed to relent, saying simply, "Okay."

You sigh. "Thank yo-"

"After you declare me The Prank Master."

Gamora rolled her eyes and propped her head up on the hand resting on the arm of the couch, not wanting to get involved, but inches from yelling at her boyfriend that she was ending the prank war herself.

You were seething. "You're a goddamn child!" you scold, leaving the sitting room and considering getting out some of the vodka you had in the freezer just to calm your nerves.

You had only just made it into the kitchen when the sound started up again.

You back against the wall and cover your face, inches from tears. Your breaths came in shallow gasps as flashes of bright lights and the sounds of tearing metal and screaming fill your senses. You tangle your hands in your hair.

"FUCKING STOP IT!" you scream.

Peter and the others in the sitting room, as well as those upstairs, all paused in shock at the sheer volume behind your scream.

They then heard the sound of the back door slamming forcefully.

Yondu, who had been at the table playing cards with Kraglin, had only been present for the second and last incidence of Peter annoying you with the sound, and it wasn't until now that he put the pieces together. That day when you acted strange and walked out on the show- this siren sound had been playing then too.

Shit.

He got up and scolded Peter, who in his shock still hadn't turned the video back off. "Turn that shit off now, boy! If I hear it again I'm gonna shove my arrow up your ass! You hear me?"

Peter, recognizing the tone in Yondu's voice as one that he had encountered many times as a child when he was in trouble, immediately switched the video off. He had to concede that perhaps he went a little too far this time, but of course he didn't actually understand just how true that sentiment was.

Yondu went to go see where you went, and he didn't need to look very far, which surprised him. He was for sure you would have taken off for the forest again, since it was kinda your thing.

Instead, you were sat with your back pressed against the stone of the house about a couple meters from the door, hand clamped over your mouth and eyes in that terrible 'wide yet unseeing' way. In the dim light provided by what shone out the kitchen windows from inside he thought he could almost see the remnants of fallen tears.

He tried to approach you slowly, but you caught him out the corner of your eye and jerked to a standing position.

"Hey, hey-" Yondu said, holding his hands up. "It's alright-" he started, but then found he didn't know what else to say. After a moment he settled on, "Ya wanna talk about what that was about?"

You don't meet his gaze. "Nothing. He just pisses me off. He's a damn child."

"While that may be true, yer still full of shit."

You glare at him.

He continues. "If this was just about Quill gettin' under yer skin ya wouldn't be shakin' like that, and I doubt you'd be crying neither."

"Am not," you mutter. You turn away, wipe your eyes, cross your arms self-consciously, and start walking away. "It's cold."

Yondu rolled his eyes. It was cool out, yes, but it wasn't that cold. "Ya wanna talk about why ya dislike the particular noise so much?" Yondu called after you. "Ya ain't got to, but I can tell somethin's eating ya. I might help to get it off your chest."

"It's nothing." you reply. "Just an annoying sound."

Yondu frowned. "Now listen here. I ain't gonna force ya to tell me, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anyone just flat out lie to my face, missy."

You turn to him, indignant. "I'm not-"

"Hell if ya ain't. I've seen that look before, I know what it is. Ya can lie to yerself, but ya can't lie to me!"

You glare at him. "Who the hell do you think you are? Coming in here acting like you know anything about me!"

"I'm the person telling ya that it ain't healthy to keep that shit bottled up inside ya. It'll eat ya alive."

You don't respond. Just roll your eyes and start walking away again.

Yondu threw up his hands. "To hell with you then!" He starts to walk back inside but stops at the door to speak again, this time his tone a little softer, "I have a feelin' no one's ever told ya, girl, but ya don't have to 'be strong' all the time. Sometimes it's ok to let people in. It don't make ya weak." With that he headed back in the house.

You lean your back against the cool stone and sigh in frustration. What did he know.

***

You head back inside a bit later, not feeling much better.

Peter catches you as you're about to head up the stairs. "Hey, I just wanted to say sorry for-"

"Don't." You cut him off, not stoping in your path. "I don't care. I'm going to bed."

Peter frowns, but lets you go. Maybe he could try again in the morning. He truly was sorry. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun.

***

You stared up at the ceiling from your bed for what felt like hours. You couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about it. You knew Peter had no way of knowing why you couldn't stand that sound, but you still couldn't help but be unhappy with him. He just wouldn't stop.

You can feel your jaw clenching with each flash of horrific memory.

You were annoyed at Yondu too. Acting like he knew anything about you or some shit. What did he know? Not you, that's what. You didn't need someone acting like they cared. You didn't need anyone, really. People come, people go. No one stays forever.

You feel your chest clench. Your throat tightens and you sit up. You didn't want to cry.

A walk. That's what you needed. A walk in the forest would surely help wash the memories away. You could walk until you were too tired to think about it, then sleep it off. It would be better in the morning. You'd be ok.

You quietly slip on some jeans and make your way downstairs to put on your boots and grab a jacket. Choosing your thin leather one because it had been chilly when you were out earlier, you open the back door and head out into the cool night air.

You'd find out soon enough that you should have stayed in bed.

#gotg #guardians of the galaxy #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #marvel fanfic #x reader #yondu udonta #peter quill #starlord #kraglin obfonteri

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 years

Text

Wicked Romance

Chapter 1

Character: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve was hoping to meet the right one until he met her. But is he ready to be with her? He thought his life already dark because of his job. He wouldn’t able to find a woman that strong enough to face the hardship to stand beside him. Turn out his life is nothing compared to her.

Warning: Maybe bad writing? Hehehe forgive me. This is my first time write and posting my own fan fiction on tumblr.

############

If an outsider sees Steve, he got everything: looks, money, status. But for him, he lacks one thing; the right person to stand beside him.

But let’s talk about how Steve became the new mob leader.

Steve got raised by his mother Sarah Rogers, it was until he retired from the military he reconnected with his father again.

He thought his father, Joseph Rogers owns a security firm every time he visits him when he was a kid after his parents divorced. Until he reaches a certain age he realized his father actually is a mob boss. He found his childhood friend Bucky, they went to the army together, also working with his father after he got into an accident that cost his left arm.

He owes it to his father, but Joseph doesn’t need his son to pay his debt. He only wanted his son to stay with him. Joseph has everything, but he missing two things; his lovely wife and his son.

Joseph loves Sarah, but he forgot she doesn’t come from a mobster background. When they got married, she was overwhelmed. Looking at her husband coming home with blood on his hands or they need to stay at the safe house when she was 8 months pregnant and when Steve was baby the rival gang tried to hurt her and their son.

Sarah admitted to Joseph that she couldn’t live like this. In the end, she asks to separated but they never divorced. Joseph never sends the document to the court.

When Joseph retired, he decided to be honest. He went to chase his wife again. With a lot of effort the couple reunited again.

Their love story was so sweet that could make Steve’s teeth hurt. Joseph appointed Steve as the new leader while he enjoys his second honeymoon with his wife.

It’s been 5 years since Steve became the new mob boss, now he’s waiting for the one that could help him write a sweet story like his parents.

Right now around lunchtime at the fancy that owned by Rogers. Steve and others like Bucky and Sam are sitting at the bar. While Pietro is the bartender serving their drinks.

It's a usual day for them but it's a little bit different with Steve this time.

Steve head not looking at his food because notices someone seating near the window. She wearing a dress, not too sexy but he could see her legs. She is completely different from a woman who dressed less to get his attention. The reason is simple Steve is an attractive man, tall, broad shoulder, the expensive three-piece suit that wraps his muscles. He only sits for 3 minutes, few girls try to seduce him but he politely or in a sarcastic way to shoo them.

And the girl who he watched for a while won’t budge to turned around. It poked his ego a little bit. He quite used to with the flirt and attention.

“You still staring at her.”

Bucky’s words made Steve snap up from his trance.

Steve shook his head, he couldn’t help it because he wants to see the woman face who sitting alone.

“Pfft.”

Someone who holds his laughter. Three of them turn their gaze towards the bartender served their drink.

“Something funny Pietro?” Steve raised his eyebrows.

“I’m just surprised my boss lose his game before approaching Miss Lilly.”

Steve tilts his head “You knew her name?”

Pietro nodded while whipping the glass with cloth “Yup, the gorgeous lady that always left a big tip.”

“She has become a regular?” Sam asks surprised.

“Perhaps, it’s difficult to forget her since the first time she came here.” Pietro is a sucker for a beautiful woman.

He put the clean glass on the shelf “The day she came here also the first day Peter Peter start his job.”

The alpha male grunted when Parker’s name mentioned. That kid is troublesome. He always late for his job and clumsy, but he’s the best chef assistant according to Wanda who the head chef at the restaurant.

“So she’s been our customer for 5 months. How come we never notice her?” Sam whispered asking. They always come here every day for lunch and dinner.

Pietro raised his shoulder “Usually she only stays for 10 minutes after buying one drink. Then she left. This is the first time she asks for a table.”

After hearing the info from Pietro, Steve looking at her back once again.

“Steve, if you don’t talk to her I will,” Sam said while moving from his seat.

Steve stop Sam by grabbing his shoulder “I didn’t say I don’t want to.”

“Go get her punk.” Bucky raised his fist.

Steve nodded, he walks closer towards her table, he doesn’t understand why his heart beating so fast.

He already in his game, using his usual pick-up line and smile, but before his foot stops at her table, she turns her head towards him.

It felt like a slow-motion when he saw her looking at him.

The first moment he looked at her eyes, somehow the time stop and world in only both of them.

She looks at him with a friendly smile. ‘Her eyes,’ he couldn’t look away.

“Hi…” He couldn’t believe he almost squeaked his voice. Steve could feel his face turn red like tomatoes. How he wishes, the situation could change.

‘BANG’

The loud sound came from the gun sound. The door abruptly opened by a bunch of guys who wear suits, some of them holding guns, and baseball bat, and the one who leads them is Brock Rumlow.

Steve cursed, because of the annoying newcomer, he already lost the moment with her. But partly he blamed himself, earlier he wished to change the situation. Be careful what you wished for.

It must be his rival gang who crash his business again. This is the third time in one month. Since Brock became the new head after Pierce died.

“Damn it.” He saw Bucky and Sam already start kicking and punching.

He turned at her, he looks at her with puppy eyes “Forgive me for today’s distraction. You don’t have to pay. It’s free.”

Before she could reply, one guy holding a baseball bat, and swing at Steve but he able to stop it.

“Everyone leave this place !!!” He screamed his lungs out to alarm the guest who still shocked. All of them ran to save their lives.

Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Pietro busy fighting their rival.

No wonder why he had bad feelings, today seems nothing could go wrong. He knew something bad will happen. Turn out it’s Rumlow.

“What do you want Rumlow?” Steve hissed at the uninvited guest.

Brock shrugged his shoulder “Oh nothing, I just want to say hi to my rival, since I became the boss now.”

‘Because of that reason?’ Steve inwardly thought. But he knew why Rumlow did this, he want everyone to know his name since he recently got this position. And this bastard choose his place at the wrong time and the wrong place.

Both of them punches at each other and destroyed the furniture.

Brock always sneaky, he prepares a hidden knife under his sleeves aka phantom blade.

He succeeded stab Steve’s shoulder.

“Urgh.” But because of his muscles, it didn’t go that deep.

Brock brings Steve to his shoulder and throws him to the ground.

Steve landed on the ground while Brock put on a mocking smile looking down at him.

“Boys~”

The seductive voice made both of them turn to see who it was.

Steve widened his eyes when he saw the girl who took his breath away standing in front of them.

When she stood, he could see she’s wearing a skirt that has a high cut on her left thigh. Steve and Brock were taken aback because under the fabric there’s a belt dagger.

She slightly pouted which made Steve thought for a second she looks adorable. But what the hell is she doing here when he already told everyone to leave this place.

She put her right hand on her left chest “It breaks my heart seeing my favorite restaurant destroyed like this.”

Steve somehow felt happy when he knew she like his work.

She grabs the dagger and throws it to Steve.

“I’m lending it to you.” She winked at him, and turn around to grab her coat. She headed to the exit door, easily avoided the fight.

“That’s one hot lady right there.”

“Yeah, she is.” Steve took the chance to give a butthead towards Brock. He doesn’t want this jerk to look at his ‘future date’.

Brock screamed while holding his broken nose “That’s was low, I was distracted.”

“Let’s get this over with. I can’t do this all day.” Steve finally let out his rage towards Rumlow.

####

Their fight is done with the result Steve side who won.

“I’ll get you next time,” Brock screamed angrily, his fingers broken by Steve. He got carried by the paramedic.

Steve wiped his bloody nose with a cloth while Bruce pressing his shoulder “Yeah yeah, just not in this place again.” He answered lazily.

He sighed because he’s getting tired of Rumlow childish fight. After his wound got treated by Bruce, Steve went back into the restaurant.

What he saw is a broken window, table, the custom leather chair that imported from Italy also ruined. There will be one person who will be crazy over this, Natasha who also his accountant, and Bucky’s wife.

His shoes step on the broken glass, his eyes locking to the table where she sat.

When he arrived he saw the book she read. Steve notice there is a bookmark inside of it. He doesn’t want to touch her touch without permission but he eager wants to see what inside.

Steve put his hand on his mouth and gasped “Oh f**k!”

“Language you punk!” Bucky and Sam appear from behind. Their face and hands also bruised because of the short fight.

“What’s wrong?”

They got no answer from Steve. He look like a statue still looking at his hands.

Bucky and Sam glanced at the bookmark on Steve’s hand. Both of them smirked.

’When the restaurant re-open, text me: (646)-xxxxxxxx’

Steve’s mind went back to the first time he saw her face and that beautiful smile, then the way she’s not afraid of the craziness that happens today, and she lent him a dagger so he can win.

He didn’t think it wasn’t a thing, but it happened to him.

He fell in love at the first sight.

“We totally lose him.” Sam waves his hand in front of Steve’s eyes.

They could see Steve on cloud nine right now.

“Good for him, maybe he could move on this time,” Bucky murmured.

Sam pointed one critical point “But first of all, we need to tell your wife about today.”

Bucky sighed “That’s the difficult part.”

While his friends busy thinking about how to coaxing Natasha so she won’t stun them with the lecture that could last for the whole day and make their ear hurts, Steve is planning how to renovate the restaurant fast so he could text her.

>>>CHAPTER 2

Taglist:

@cloudystevie

#mob!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes #sam wilson #pietro maximov #peter parker #cs4kwritingchallenge #marvel au #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine

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consumeconstantly · 4 years

Text

Lady Cross (first aid)

Summary: Somehow, Marinette always ends up biting off more than she can chew. It started off with a kid and a nasty gash on their knee. The sudden escalation to treating the new head of Gotham’s underworld? It can only be explained by the fact that she’s catnip for trouble.

_____________________________________________

Marinette supposed she should have expected something like this to happen eventually.

Really, she patches up a few street kids and offers a meal and some resources and suddenly she's made a name for herself in the slums of Gotham. It’s not like she’s doing anything revolutionary. Well, okay, maybe she does cheat a little bit and uses her healing powers on a few of the tougher cases that really should have been out of her realm of expertise, but she’s living near the slums of Gotham for a reason. That reason being Marinette is just a little broke and can’t really afford to send everyone she comes across to the hospital, and the people who are injured certainly can’t. It’s not like she can leave them to die. That would be heartless.

When she stopped treating scrapes and cuts for kids on the streets as she came across them and instead found her apartment balcony frequented by families who needed her help, she couldn’t just say no. And so, more and more serious wounds started coming in. Kids brought their parents and friends. The parents and friends brought... well, if the police stopped by her apartment any time soon, she’s fairly certain they’d have a field day.

But again, it’s not like she’s going to turn these people into the police when they’ve come to her for help and have a small army of people who swear up and down that they’re good people and only doing what they have to do in order to get by.

Morality comes in such a variety of shades, who was she to judge? Ladybug and Marinette have both certainly had their fair share of mistakes that they’d gladly go back in time to rectify, and her hands weren’t clean of blood either. Sure, the Miraculous Cure may have brought people back, but their deaths were still on her. And Hawkmoth? Yeah, he’s alive now, but she hammered him into the pavement after dropping him from the top of the Eiffel tower, and she’s not going to pretend that she didn’t take a bit of morbid joy in that moment.

But back to the matter at hand. Which was, the notorious Red Hood—responsible for a coup amongst Gotham’s drug dealers and responsible for taking down a man whose morality truly vanished with the wind, Black Mask himself— was currently bleeding out on her second floor balcony, smoking a cigarette and lounging against the rail like he owned the place.

“Lady Cross,” he inclined his head.

“Red Hood,” Marinette returned his greeting.

God, she really didn’t want to get involved with Red Hood. She wasn’t opposed to helping out street thugs and criminals, but Red Hood was a different league. He seemed to be a fairly decent guy, ensuring that kids weren’t dealt drugs and tried to keep them out of the circuit as much as possible. He took down plenty of worse criminals while he was at it. In fact, Marinette would go so far to say the Red Hood as one the good guys.

But the issue was, once she started treating people of a certain level, she’d be open game. And that didn’t seem very enticing to her. Not at all. Everyone knew that Red Hood had beef with the Bat Family for some reason or other, and also made enemies with almost every single rogue in Gotham, and a good number of enemies outside of it as well. Basically, Red Hood was a universal enemy of both the vigilantes and rogues. Someone she shouldn’t get involved with while she was trying to investigate the darkness surrounding Gotham whole running her online boutique and going to college at Gotham University.

Unfortunately, Tom and Sabine and her own stint as Ladybug taught her that she could never ignore someone in need. Marinette sighed and slid the mesh open, leading Red Hood to her living room. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Real nice place you got here,” he said.

With the mask covering the whole of his face, Marinette had no facial expressions to figure out whether he was poking fun at her current living situation or not. His voice sounded genuine, but vocal emotions were easy to fake.

The apartment she was living in was not on the nice side of town. There were three bullet holes in the wall between her living room and bedroom that she just didn’t have time to patch up, some pretty nasty looking stains on the ceiling near her kitchen, and a huge, spray painted red cross on one of her walls, which was where her street name derived from. Her floor and coffee table were also in states of disarray; she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to clean up after working on two commissions and the last guest whose wounds were heavy enough to warrant several rolls of gauze, which was now half stuffed into a garbage can sitting next to rolls of fabric. Perhaps not the neatest or most sanitary situation, but she didn’t have time to clean up before every single one of her unexpected guests came in.

Look, it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t have time to fix things up real nice and neat. She’d only been living in the apartment for a month and a half, and most times, she barely spent any time in it other than to sleep, cram last minute projects for her design course, or to help heal people. Her living situation wasn’t the biggest of worries.

“Sit,” Marinette gestured to the one of the few pieces of furniture that she specifically bought for the apartment. She didn’t mind the stained, half broken, and extremely creaky couch the last owners left behind for the first week, but after she started bringing back her first… visitors, it seemed important that the couch was comfortable, sturdy, and most crucially, cleanable.

Rummaging through a cabinet, she pulled out a tattered briefcase she thrifted a while back to keep all of her medical supplies in. Not the prettiest of things, but she tried not to keep expensive looking items in her apartment because she wasn’t a fan of getting mugged. The medicine she kept was already expensive enough, she didn’t need to attract everyone’s attention by owning one of those metal containers used in hospitals. Even though most of the people who dropped by her apartment were thankful to be treated, she had a few instances where people tried to steal things from her.

“What’s the damage, doc?” Red Hood’s voice came through rather tinny through his helmet.

Marinette grimaced. The helmet must have awful air circulation. It looked like some sort of metal, and wet and metal never smelled good together. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Thought you were supposed to be some mystic healer who came from the far east.”

She paused and looked at the man, trying to judge whether he was racist as well as rude. “That’s rather insulting.”

Red Hood shrugged. Marinette applauded the man for showing no outward sign of pain at that, even though there was a bullet embedded in his shoulder, and shrugging had to bite. “That’s what the word on the street is, though you sound French to me. Thought I’d come and check out who’s healing Gotham’s criminals. What’re you planning?”

“Sorry to foil your plans, but I’m not planning anything other than getting my college degree and not pissing off the people I live near.” She paused, flipping the lock on the briefcase upwards. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use me as your go to healer from now on. You’re going to bring trouble my way.”

“Trouble? Me? Perish the thought.” His hand rested comfortably on the holister of his gun, ready to shoot if the girl pulled out a weapon from the briefcase. “We’ll talk about repeat appearances after I see how you do today.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Any wounds other than the obvious?”

“Just need the bullet out, and some stitches on the gash.” His shoulder and his abdomen, respectively. The gash looked nastier than the bullet; no shrapnel, but the cut on his stomach was jagged and wide. Not a normal, sharp blade. Probably needed a good cleaning.

She grabbed the tweezers, a sterilized needle, and medical thread. “That’s fine. Now are you going to undress, or am I going to have to cut your… costume… up?”

“Getting me naked already? We haven’t even had our first date yet.”

“Very funny, little Red Riding Hood. Now hop to it. I have class at 9 tomorrow and projects to finish tonight.” Somehow, trouble always seemed to find her when she least wanted it to. Not that she wanted to have trouble find her at all, but luck was a two way street, and for all that being Ladybug granted her good luck, she attracted criminals like catnip.

“And here my informants had me thinking you were a regular Florence Nightingale.”

Marinette snorted. “They wish. I’ve got to ask who told you, because everybody should know the rules. You know, the ones where they don’t speak of my existence to their higher ups?”

“I’m not a rat,” Red Hood said, taking the top part of his outfit off. “And it’s not like you would have gone unnoticed anyways. You might be treating small timers now, but people catch on to healers pretty easy.”

“Because some gauze and sewing skills make me such a prime target.”

“No, your magic does.”

Shit. Marinette never told anyone she was using magic, and she rarely used it unless it was a dire situation. If she could patch them up using regular skills, she did.

“Yeah right, if I had magic healing powers, do you think I’d be shoving my fingers into your shoulder to get a bullet out?”

“Not a very good liar, Lady Cross. You have this deer-caught-in-the-headlights look about you.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I’m also the deer that tramples through your windshield and takes a dump on the driver’s seat.” She maneuvered the tweezers a little rougher, hoping to make Red Hood hiss in pain. He just chuckled, amused. His high pain tolerance was getting rather annoying. She had half a mind to pour hydrogen peroxide over the wound just to see if that would make him show he was in pain, but thought better of it. Even though she didn’t like the man, she also didn’t want to piss him off. Or worse, have him come back and make her fix him up again.

Threading the needle, she made quick, small stitches on his shoulder, sewing the bullet hole up, then put some petroleum jelly to speed up the healing process and reduce scarring. At least the wound was in a position that didn’t require a lot of gauze. She needed to go out and buy some more soon. She barely had enough to wrap around Red Hood’s waist.

“So, the magic,” Red Hood started. “Is it a conditional thing? Can you not use it all the time?”

“Again, I don’t have magic.” Marinette did have to use some antibacterial on the knife wound. He would need to take good care of that one to make sure it didn’t get infected.

“So a meta, then. What are you doing in Gotham? Everybody knows Batman hates metas.”

“Not a meta, either, sorry to disappoint.” She tied off the gauze, then stood to wash her hands. “Make sure to clean the stomach wound well. Hope you have your tetanus shot, otherwise you should look into getting one.”

“Surprisingly, I’m inclined to believe you on the not-a-meta thing. Back to the first thing, then. Magic. Why don’t you show me the old razzle dazzle? Do you have to say one of those weird spells like the godmother in Cinderella? Bibbity bobbity boo?”

“You’re hilarious,” Marinette dead panned.

“How’s this for magic? Bibbity bobbity boo, kindly leave. Shoo.” She followed his suggestion, made a show of jazz hands as well. “Pity I don’t use magic otherwise you’d be gone now. Anyways, it’s time for you to make your exit. It would be great if you didn't visit me again. Ever. Thanks.”

She ushered him out onto her patio, then slammed the sliding door. He saluted her before dropping off the side of the building. She could imagine the man under the helmet smirking.

Marinette ran a hand through her loose hair. “He’s going to come back, isn’t he.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

#jasonette july #first aid #jasonette #marinette dupain cheng #jason todd #gotham #original content #bamf marinette #sassy marinette #miraculous ladybug #maribat #dcu #red hood hears of a mystic healer and decides to check her out

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fandomficsnstuff · 3 years

Text

Little Dragon - Part 9

Summary: You were a child slave of Meereen, when one day a silver haired woman sets you free. Though your master isn’t too keen on letting you go, and Daenerys took personal action to see you freed and taken care of.

(Warnings: a bit of Dothraki which will be written in bold, also, the tiniest hint of a possible future ~romance~)

High Valyrian is in cursive

You giggled as you flew besides Drogon, Daenerys’ on top of him, heading back towards Dragonstone. Daenerys had suggested flying together, since she knew how much you loved it, and besides, she loved it herself. As you landed near Dragonstone you couldn’t help but feel a certain freedom, one you knew Daenerys felt as well.

You sighed as your feet hit the ground, and you moved to Rhaegal’s face, your hand running along his neck all the way and you gently placed it above his nose, leaning your forehead against his nose tip for a moment before letting him fly off with Drogon. You walked with Daenerys back to Dragonstone, parting ways by your room as she continued down the hall, possibly to her own room.

As you got inside of your room you saw Missandei standing near a hot bath and you grinned widely “Missandei” you greeted and she spun around, hiding something behind her back as she bowed her head “Princess” you walked closer “what are you hiding?” You watched as Missandei pulled a small, but detailed, wooden figure of a girl, and the closer you looked, the more it resembled you, making you grin even more. “One of the Dothraki made it, he was young, a bit older than you, a few years maybe, but he said that he hoped to live long enough to see you and your mother on the throne, he asked me to give it to you”, you looked up at her with tears in your eyes, still grinning. “You inspire a lot of love, Princess (Y/N), just like your mother” you nodded as you wiped away a few tears that had spilled over the corners of your eyes “did he really say ‘throne’?” Missandei laughed “no, he said ‘iron chair’, I see your mother told you that the Dothraki have no word for ‘throne’” you nodded at her words as you took the small figure from her, it really looked like you, but not like in a dress, it was the clothes you had on when you rode Rhaegal, he must have seen you in it and remembered “she did… where is he, the Dothraki who made this?” Missandei smiled gently at you “I can show you, but after your bath, before the water gets cold” you nodded, putting the figure on your night stand before returning to the tub “of course, thank you, Missandei” she smiled and left your room so you could undress and bathe in peace.

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After your bath you had changed into a dress, it was one out of thick material, to keep out the cold, but it was comfortable all the same, it was (Y/F/C), a small dragon pin on your chest, symbolizing your mother’s house, and your own now, your shoes were also warm and thick, but still fit enough to walk on the sand, which you currently were. You watched Missandei point out the Dothraki who had made the small wooden figure, sitting on a stone along with a few other Dothraki, no more than five, scattered on the beach. This Dothraki was handsome, he had the same copper-tones skin as all the other Dothraki but a different glow to it, the same almond shaped eyes that stood out anyway, but he was different, he was younger, so his hair and beard had no real length to it, his curly black hair rested on his head like the rest of them, but you’d somehow be able to see him even in a crowd of Dothraki he was obviously tall, you couldn’t be sure of what physique but he seemed lean, he was leaning his elbows on his knees, a knife in his hand and a rock in the other, he was sharpening his knife. His black coal eyes found yours and you swore, on your life, that you saw a hint of blush on his cheeks as she quickly looked away again, trying to act like he hadn’t seen you. You approached with an amused smile, walking straight up to him, forcing him to look at you without touching him, and your smile somehow grew as your eyes locked, you watched him quickly stand up and try to bow as he had seen the Unsullied and others do but it didn’t go over well, which you didn’t mention, but the fact that he tried made feel weird inside.

You didn’t know how much of the common tongue he spoke, and you didn’t know that much Dothraki, so instead you showed him the small figure, grinning when you saw his eyes widen in realisation, “I am very happy for this” you knew there was no word for thank you in Dothraki, so it was the best you could do, but he seemingly understood you as she grinned himself “good, but I did not know the lady would tell you that it was me who made it” he spoke a bit too fast but you still understood most of what he said, his voice wasn’t as deep as some of the other Dothraki, but then again, he was young, “I asked” you gave a light shrug, enjoying the way he seemed to be shy around you, not at all how you imagined a Dothraki would act up close, but then again, you had heard from Daenerys of Khal Drogo, her husband, and how gentle he could be with her when no one else was around.

“What is your name?” you did your best, but Dothraki had not been one of the languages you had not focused on, sadly, and now you cursed your younger self for not paying more attention.

“Ezzo”

“Ezzo…” you tasted the name on your tongue, it gave you a warm feeling saying it, and it made you smile brightly up at him, and after a while you realized that you had stared, making you blink and quickly look down, blushing red. “I-I hope my Dothraki is understandable enough, I’m afraid that I never paid enough attention when my teacher tried to teach it to me” you knew, you just knew that it sounded awful, but glancing up you only saw his smile “I think you sound beautiful” you grinned widely at him, about to say something else when out of the corner of your eyes you saw an Unsullied soldier approaching, making you turn your head to him, it was one you knew, not well, but you knew his name, his name was Grey Curse, just thinking about it made you wince, so you never spoke it out loud.

“Princess (Y/N), her Grace is asking for you, Missandei said you might be here” you nodded and looked back at Ezzo, who had no idea what was being said “I have to go... “ you said in a sad voice, making Ezzo frown but nod all the same, almost like he expected you to just go right then and there, but you couldn’t help yourself, you leaned up and gave him a peck on his cheek, a quick one, you barely noticed it yourself. You couldn’t help the grin you had on your lips the whole way to the map room where Daenerys and all the rest were waiting for you. Daenerys raised her head to look at you, about to say something but seeing your grin she froze, narrowing her eyes at you and smirking ever so slightly “want to tell me why you are so happy?” she spoke High Valyrian, mainly because she wanted a bit more privacy, even though she knew that Missandei, Varys and Grey Worm could understand her, but both Varys and Grey Worm were good at pretending not to hear her, however Missandei smirked amused at the scene unfolding before her “no reason, why are we speaking Valyrian, mother?” you shrugged, making Daenerys scoff amused at you “I just got ready to scold you for being late, but seeing you this happy, I’ll hold it off, for now” you knew she was just being playful, it was in her tone, and both Varys and Missandei couldn’t help the tiny smile that forced it’s way onto their lips, hearing their Queen’s words, but quickly shook it off as Daenerys turned back to face the map carved into the table.

“So, you were saying?” all of you looked back to Tyrion who nodded and resumed talking about his plan to sent the Unsullied to Casterly Rock, but for some reason, your mind were stuck on the beach, standing with a tall Dothraki, who’s curly hair was like a crown, resting gently on his head, his eyes black as coal but still warm, and you kept thinking of his name, Ezzo, you wondered what it meant. Ezzo, maybe it meant kindness, or maybe it meant strength, or courage, or maybe it meant handsome, if so then it’d certainly fit. You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed the map room clearing, all but Daenerys, who smirked at you with amusement “so” she began, snapping you out of your day dream, you eyes locking with hers and instantly you blushed, looking down and fiddling with the wooden figure you still had in your hand, something that Daenerys easily noticed, “who made that?” you let her take it from your hands, letting her study it with a warm smile “a Dothraki” her head instantly snapped to yours, making you realize what she feared “he’s very sweet,” you quickly assured, seeing her visibly relax, of course she trusted her army, but Dothraki was not known for being gentlemen, she knew this very well, better than most “his name is Ezzo… Missandei said she saw him carve it and he asked her to give it to me” you continued, taking back the small figure as you looked at it fondly “I wanted to thank him so Missandei brought me to him, I’m sorry I lost track of time” when you finally raised your head to meet her gaze, you saw nothing but warmth and joy, a small smile resting on her lips “well, I’d very much like to meet this, Ezzo” a part of you began to grow nervous, what if she didn’t like him? You knew she loved you and only wanted what was best for you, but you also knew that although she had not birthed you, you were her daughter, her only living human child, and you knew that no matter what, a dragon would protect it's young, with fire and blood if need be.

#Daenerys Targaryen #Daenerys Targaryen x ChildReader #got fanfic

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descendantofthesparrow · 4 years

Text

Queen - Uma x Harry Hook x reader - songfic oneshot

Cross my heart and hope to die

I don't need another guy

To fight my battles, to overshadow me

Don't ya know I'm dangerous?

Fire burnin' in my blood

I got this handled, I don't need rescuin'

Being the daughter of Aurora and King Phillip was tough, or at least tougher than others thought it would be.

Always sit up straight, never slouch, never sit with your legs apart, never curse, never lash out, always be kind, always smile, never spit, Never show blemishes, never be over a certain weight.

Always be perfect

….then again….those were the expectations of the granddaughter of Leah, mother of Aurora.

Your parents had different expectations.

Now how to protect yourself, know how to wield a sword, know how to shoot an arrow, know how to fight on horseback, know when to strike and when to stand back, know when to act like a lady and when to act like a knight.

Be sad, be angry, be happy, be snarky, be you.

Luckily you had never stuck on your grandmother's teachings as your sister did. you had grown in your father's teachings of the sword.

As the younger daughter of Phillip and Aurora, your grandmother paid less attention to you, since she was paying attention to Audrey, who had prince Ben at her side, the awaiting heir to Auradon.

You relished in the time you had away from the aging spiteful EX-queen.

You can call me a princess all you like

'Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain't what I want, I'ma show you

I'ma show you

You tried to help your sister grow her confidence within the family to step away from your grandmother, but Audrey was deep in her claws, unable to break away from the poison.

It hurt watching your sister, once the brightest girl to be around, slowly become a snake, sneering behind backs and teasing those who didn’t “match” up to her.

You hoped one day that she could break free of your grandmother's influence.

Though during the point the first four vks came along, you saw the sliver of the sister you once knew, when Ben “broke up” with her.

She had come to your room after the game, crying her eyes out, jumping into your arms, and sobbing her heart out to you.

“i-I thought we were-I thought” she had cried, burying her face into your shoulder.

While you held no grudge against Mal for her mother's actions against your own (unlike your grandmother), you weren’t on the best terms with Mal for a while after that.

During cotillion, your sister had gone off with your fairy godmothers, while you stayed behind to help Jane plan for the grand event. Uma, the daughter of Ursula, had caught your attention as she appeared.

She had spelled Ben to free the children still on the isle, you mentally commended her on her act, through the way she went about it was a bit interesting and too similar to Mals way of doing things that it left a bad taste in your mouth.

Though it got the job done, with the documents for another 4 vks to come to Auradon being worked on soon after cotillion.

How to treat me like a queen (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

Uma's face had been…interesting as you found her on the western shores of Ursula’s strait, holding food and a bundle of warmer clothes for her.

“why?” Uma had asked, shrugging on the dark blue hoodie and crossing her arms, staring down the box of warm food in your hands.

“because it will be cold the next few nights, and I'm not going to let you starve if I can help it” you responded, face blank as you held out the food to her.

She started at you for a moment, before nodding, taking the food and slowly eating it, before her eyes brightened and she soon devoured the entire meal.

You smiled and handed her a map of the surrounding area “be safe, there is a cave that keeps away the ocean draft and hardly ever gets cold or wet.

Uma watched you with curious eyes as you walked away that night, surprised after each day when you continued to return to her spot, holding new clothes and food for her.

Within the next year and a half, you and Uma had grown close, telling you of her boys, Harry Hook, and Gil, her best friends and those whom she trusted with her deepest secrets and life.

You decided you would try to convince Ben to get Uma's boys off.

Vk day came around the corner, Uma listening as you told her the new vks that would be coming to Auradon.

She brightened a bit as the Smee twins came up.

“Skipper and Sterling, good, Harriet probably made them sign up, otherwise they would have never tried.”

“do you think Harry and Gil will sign up?”

“dunno, probably, to find me at least, but I know Mal and her goons would never choose them, as long as they are loyal to me, Mal sees them as her enemy”

You hummed, remembering Mal's insistence on the search for Uma. The irony that one of their own was helping hide a villain.

“then let's hope one of the other ones can look past Mal's rivalry with you and let others look on to a new path”

Uma snorted, shaking her head “Evie would be the only one to do that, Mals boys, especially Jay, are too wrapped up in her delusions”

You sighed and nodded, crossing your arms as you stared across the moonlit sea at the smog-covered isle. “well figure something else out then” Uma grinned at you.

“optimistic aren’t you?”

You grinned back “someone has to be”

Only three days later, as you were running late to Janes birthday and after hearing about your sister's sleeping spell, you grabbed your sword that had been enchanted by your godmothers, the same enchantments as your father's sword, and ran out to look for any sign of your sister or the vks. you came across sleeping bodies just outside the dorms, looking around with wide eyes you hovered above a sleeping student, waving your hand in their face and snapping.

“Audrey what did you do” you whispered, leaning back and crossing your arms, looking around the courtyard.

“they’re asleep” you perked up and spun around, seeing the vks entering through the opposite pathway of the garden. “all of them” Evie looked around with worried eyes, her mouth dropping open in a gasp as she saw you “(y/n)!” she yelled, running towards you at surprising speed considering her heels “you're awake!”

“y-yeah?” you yelped, wrapping your arms around her as she slammed into you “why wouldn’t I be?”

“well” Evie stuttered “Audrey-the scepter-she-nevermind, im glad you’re okay!” you nodded slowly, peeking around Evie and spotting a snickering Uma.

You rose your brow at her and she shook her head, nodding towards the two taller boys looking around the courtyard.

One was taller, with dark-colored hair and a long dark red vest-jacket, black faded and worn pants with black boots and a silver hook in his left hand. Harry Hook, son of Captain James Hook, Uma's first mate.

The other was a slightly shorter teen male with longer blonde hair hidden by a dark orange cap, a short-sleeved leather shirt, and dark orange-yellow pants with dark brown boots. Gil, son of Gaston, her quartermaster.

Her boys.

The darker haired one, Harry, turned to you, locking his bright Blue eyes with yours, you felt a shock run through your body, your breath stopping as you stared into his eyes.

Harry felt his breath stop, watching as the girl with alluring (e/c) eyes stared back at him. He couldn’t look away, something holding him in place.

“guys!” Harry felt the hold release as the girl looked away and to Evie, who was gesturing to a statue of a girl in a band uniform "Hanna got turned to stone!”

So treat me like a queen (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

Mal had taken over the group, ordering to head to Bens castle to look for him. You walked silently beside Uma as you traveled on foot to the castle, too occupied in your thoughts to notice Harry continue to stare at you.

He couldn’t figure out why and how you somehow stopped him in his tracks, unable to breathe or move.

The only other person that had done that to him…was Uma.

“Ben!” Mal called out, worried eyes flying about the hallways “Ben!!”

“he might not be here Mal” you offered, raising your brow as Celia sighed and tossed in other (depressing) option.

“or turned to stone” Evie covered the young girl's mouth and shook her head.

Eyes on me like I'm a prize

But you better recognize

I'm not your angel 'cause I belong to me

Uma frowned at the slashes across the wall, following the slash with her hand and calling out to the group “hey!” Uma turned, pointing a the slashes that had destroyed the map hanging on the wall “What's this?”

“um” Carlos muttered, his eyes widening in fear, as walked over to the slashes and turned to mal “any chance this was here before?”

Mal bit her lip and shook her head a bit, continuing forward after dude, calling out for ben.

“Ben!” she opened a set of double doors, leading to a room of knights lining the walls “Ben?!”

Harry let out a whistle and stepped around you, walking towards a suit and trailing his fingers across the blade. Jay leaned towards him, whispering in his ear, sneering at the pirate.

Harry just smirked and walked off after Uma.

You followed close behind Uma, feeling something off about the room, like someone was watching you.

As Mal and Uma argued, you and Harry glanced at each other as the knight in front of you started to move, you squinted at the pink smoke pouring from its helmet.

“guys?”

“I believe we’re being challenged” Harry tried, Uma holding up her hand to silence him.

“Let's split up and look for Audrey” Uma suggested, raising her brows as mal denied it and held out her hand. “that makes absolutely no sense, unless you give me the ember she's going to spell you!”

You and Harry pressed your lips together and looked at each other with wide eyes as the knight moved again “GUYS!” you yelled, gesturing to the knight as the girls jumped and looked at you.

“we ‘ave a bit of a situation ‘ere” Harry growled, glaring up at the empty suit of armor that began to move as if it was being worn.

“you like a prince mal? Well, how bout a knight in shining armor….or knights”

You can call me a princess all you like

'Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain't what I want, I'ma show you

I'ma show you

You quickly backed away, Uma holding onto your arm as you ran towards the doors when two knights blocked the way, Celia standing behind them eyes wide with fear.

You groaned and turned, spotting a set of swords on the wall. You maneuvered around Jay and Mal and grabbed them, handing them to Evie and Carlos as you backed into the group, eyeing down the knights.

“Let's do this” you muttered, gasping as Harry stepped in front of you and pushed you back. “stay back princess, wouldn’t want yeh getting hurt” you felt your brow twitch in agitation, but ignored him, watching the knights as they surrounded you. Uma hopped down beside you and Harry, smirking at the knights, waving her fingers tauntingly.

You sighed and drew your sword, feeling the enchantments run through the hilt. You took a step forward, making Harry twitch, and in blinding speed, you knocked several helmets off the knight's heads, the suits crumbling to the floor with a loud crash.

“Did anybody else forget that (y/n)s a genius with a sword?” Carlos chuckled, watching as you took down three more knights with only a sidestep and a flourish of your sword.

“huh?” Harry asked, yelping as a hammer swiped at his head, Jay appearing behind it and striking its shoulder, sending it to the side.

“she takes more after her dad doesn’t she?” Jay supplied, grabbing Harry's arm and forcing him to his feet, blocking another swipe as Harry nodded behind him.

How to treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

You glanced at Uma, who was being held down by four knights, and bolted over to her, half leaping in the air and drawing your sword down, slashing through the metal of their arms like butter and colliding into Uma and half dragging her across the room, looking back at the knights as Audrey's scream of frustration rang through the room.

“holy shit” Uma muttered in your ear, grabbing your shoulder to stabilize herself “how come you never told me you could do this shit?” “you never asked” you laughed, flipping your sword and turning, smirking at the knights who were trying, and failing, to sneak up behind you.

“still would have been nice to know” Uma snorted, running around you and slashing at one of the knights, backing away and behind you as you ran forward and swung your sword around, slicing off their helmets, side flipping as the crashed to the ground.

“Uma?” Harry panted, sliding next to her and smiling at you, who was blocking another knight from slashing at Evie. “can we keep her?”

Uma laughed and nodded “yes, yes we can keep her”

“awesome” Harry breathed, biting his lip, watching you spin on your heel and unarm a knight before spinning into a squat, slashing off their knees and smirking as they crashed to the ground.

So treat me like a queen (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

You pouted and kicked the boot of a fallen knight, all that fight only for them to be defeated by a simple spell and some dance moves.

The boring way to end a battle if anyone asked you.

You sighed and cracked your neck, sheathing your sword and walking over to the squabbling VKs. “what's next?” you asked aloud, rolling your eyes as Mal assumed you were talking to her.

“we’re going to the museum to look for any clues”

“there's no point to that though! We know it's Audrey who took the crown and scepter, logically we should go to her room or something and look for any clues there!” Uma pushed, gritting her teeth as Mal shook her head.

“Mal” you sighed, dropping your shoulders “you don’t want to hear this but Uma's right, going to the museum is pointless unless we're going for the wand or something, I say us girls go to Audrey's and the boys look for ben”

Uma nodded, staring Mal down, who glared back. Evie clapped her hands together, making the two jump “that sounds perfect, lets meet at my place in, two hours okay?”

The rest of the group nodded, you walked up to Celia and gently pushed her to start moving as the vks started waling out of the room to set on their missions.

Harry glanced back at you as he walked alongside Gil, watching as Uma turned to you and whispered something, smirking as your shoulders bounced.

He turned back sighing as he listened to the dog talk.

Yeah

You can call me a princess all you like

‘Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain’t what I want, I’ma show you

You walked alongside Uma and Harry as they separated from the other vks to look for Celia and Gil. “you coming with us or something lass?” Harry asked aloud, raising his brows as you shook your head.

“no, I’ll help you find Gil and Celia and then help you get where you need to go, then I’ll come back to help my sister get her head back, that scepter is warping her mind and I won't lose her” you stated, voice strong with conviction.

Uma and Harry glanced at each other before Uma turned to you, going to speak when Mal suddenly ran up, yelling out Uma's name.

“uma-uma! Wait! Please wait!” Uma glared at the purple-haired girl as she skidded to a stop “I need your help, we have a chance if we work together!”

Uma sneered at her “your friends kick you to the curb?” Mal's face said it all “good”

“Ben saw something in you, and-today Uma I saw it too! You care! Uma, you care about everybody!” Uma rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and staring at Mal blankly “and Auradon is worth saving!”

“and my sister isn’t?” you sneered, Mal suddenly turned to you “you know what the scepter is like, it poisons the mind Mal, it's taken over my sister, and because of you, I might not get her back, because of you, she turned to something dark to get revenge…You know” you cocked your hip, glaring at the wide-eyed Mal

“she never got an apology from you or Ben, you love spelled Ben for the wand, had him “break up” with Audrey by declaring his “love” for you, do you know how many nights I spent with Audrey, holding her in my arms because she couldn’t sleep she was crying so hard, crying so hard she threw up?

You are not the only one with feelings Mal, Audrey did love ben, my grandmother screwed up what love meant to Audrey but she did love him, and you took that away and never apologized. So you know what Mal” you got in her face, glaring into her shiny green eyes “you deserve whatever Audrey does to you, and when I get back, I will save Audrey myself, because it seems I'm the only one who actually fucking cares about her”

You shoulder checked Mal and walked off, Mal desperately calling your name. “you talk pretty….but they’ve already made up their minds” Harry sighed, following Uma as she pushed past Mal and followed after you.

How to treat me like a queen (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

You grinned at Uma as she walked across the bridge from the isle to Auradon, Harry, and Gil at her side.

“Welcome to Auradon Uma” you laughed as Uma leapt into your arms, spinning her around for a moment to keep your balance “officially at least” Uma rolled her eyes as she pulled back, taking your hand and pulling you off to dance, Harry, following close behind.

“yeah yeah, thanks for everything by the way”

You hummed, raising your brow “for giving me food, clothes, all that stuff for the past year”

“so yer the one who took care of the cap’n all this time huh?” Harry asked, looking to Uma for confirmation.

“I guess?” you shrugged, smirking as Mal turned to you with wide eyes “uh I think Mal heard that one?”

“who cares” Uma chuckled, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward her, Harry following her lead and grabbing your other hand “care to dance with us pirates princess?”

“it would be my pleasure” you bowed, giggling as Harry spun you and held you to his side, Uma laughing along and letting him spin her with his other hand.

So treat me like a queen (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

-end-

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @lunanight2012

@daughter-of-the-stars11 @musicarose

@imtryingthisout @remembered-license

@random-thoughts-003 @verboetoperee

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #uma descendants #uma daughter of ursula #uma x reader #daughter of sleeping beauty #Audrey deserves better #audrey descendants #audreys sister

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diavolosthots · 4 years

Text

DARK DECEPTION CHAPTER 9

READ CHAPTER 8 HERE

Authors Note: whats popping I'm back. Sorry it took so long. 😅 I have no clue if that's the same gif i used before whoops. Also I hope you enjoy "Brain-Wrecker3002" the best console in the Devildom. So bare with me and Mario kart. Just do it for the sake of the story.

Warnings: none

Pairing(s): Diavolo x Reader, Leviathan, Barbatos

Diavolo wasn’t kidding when he said he had set up a gaming room. You had yet to know all of the castle’s layout, but you were certain that this was one of the biggest ones. “For me?” You questioned, not necessarily intending for it to be said out loud. “For everyone, but I imagine you will be spending quite a lot of time here, My Lady.” Barbatos seemed too nice, as always, but you didn’t have time to worry about it. You were staring at a gigantic screen half the size of the wall. Red cushioned floor beds were made into seating areas with snacks and drinks right beside each one. Consoles for days, both from the human realm and the Devildom itself, along with games that you both loved and couldn’t wait to try, “this is amazing.” Honestly, your jaw was on the floor and you had to look around the room one more time to make sure it was real. Barbatos chuckled behind you, but excused himself for duties soon after, and for a while, you just stood there in the massive room.

Although amazement seethed through your body, you had to take this opportunity and realize that you were finally alone and not locked up in his room. You weren’t going to be completely alone, no, but you were going to be with an outsider, and Leviathan nonetheless. Of course, none of this meant the coast was clear, and you were almost certain that Barbatos, and or Diavolo, were watching you, somehow, someway. You needed to be smarter than them. You needed to find a way to tell Leviathan something without them noticing, or at least noticing right away.

“(Y/N)?” You jumped at the voice, turning to see Levi standing there with Barbatos, who was still smiling way too casually. “Levi!” Happiness ran through you and you immediately ran toward him, engulfing him in a humongous hug that had him stumbling back before he caught you. Of course, it was very awkward, for him anyway, but especially with Barbatos just standing there and it took every fiber in your being to pull away and not stick to him like glue. “I missed you.” It was an honest sentence; you did miss him. Actually, you missed everyone, and even if it was Mammon coming to visit, you really wouldn’t have minded at this point. “I… missed you too…” Awkward as ever. You laughed softly, nudging his arm when his cheeks started to become darker than the seating area of the room. “I will leave you two alone, then.” Barbatos bowed, slowly exiting the room.

Both of you stood there for a moment, staring at each other but keeping silent in fear of Barbatos coming back. “So… what do you think of this room?” Honestly, it wasn’t until now that the so called hardcore Otaku third-born has had a chance to really look at it, but just like you, his jaw dropped in amazement and he immediately ran around looking at everything, “You have this?! And you didn’t invite me sooner?!” “W-Well---!” “Oh my Lord Diavolo, you have the new brain-wrecker3002!! Why didn’t you tell me?!” you tried to explain several more times that you only found out about this room today, but Levi was more excited than a little kid and honestly who are you to deny him these simple pleasures? “If you ask nicely, I’m sure Diavolo would let you take it.”

A loud gasp erupted from within him, his hands immediately holding onto your shoulders, “You think?!” You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction; he was more excited than a little boy during Christmas and yes, it was cute. “Yes. Maybe. I’m sure he can get another one. Doubt he would miss it. But come on! As much as I love to hear you nerd out, let’s actually play something.” Of course, that was the keyword he looked for; play. You still pondered how you were going to tell Leviathan anything without it being too obvious, or at least in a way that took anyone else a while to figure out. “Levi… Let’s play Mario Kart.” Confusion strung across his face, “what? You have all these amazing games and you want to play Mario Kart?” You nodded, smiling softly as to hide the seriousness of why you would want to play it. In your mind, it made sense. In your mind, it would work out. And in your mind, Leviathan would catch on sooner or later, hopefully at least. “Yes. I want to play Mario Kart, you know? Take a trip down memory lane.” Leviathan frowned but he also knew that he was in no position to fight you. If you were unhappy, he had to take it up with Diavolo and that’s something he doesn’t necessarily want to deal with, “Okay…But we’ll play other things too, right?” You chuckled.

It took you a while to figure out exactly how you wanted to do this. You knew you could turn and mess yourself up in pretty much any way, but you needed it to be discreet. That’s where you were grateful for Levi’s competitiveness and his quick thinking on banana peels. Every time he threw one at you, you barely dodged it, and every once in a while you would hit a few back to back, four back to back to be specific. Instead of just spinning out of control and moving on, though, you somehow managed to pull through with your plan. H. E. L. P. The last letter was the hardest one but after doing the same pattern twice, Levi caught on. No one can say again he’s just a dumb Otaku. He side-eyed you, giving you a raised eyebrow, but all you could really do was discreetly nod and hope he believed you. After that, you continued to mess up a few more times so as to not draw suspicion. “Let’s… change the game. This might be a trip down memory lane for you, but it’s boring to me if you’re so terrible at it and I keep beating you.”

You pouted, nudging him again, “fine… I had fun though.” Levi chuckled this time, obviously nervous, “I did too… let’s maybe try and play---!” “Leviathan!” A cold shiver ran down your spine and from the looks of it, it ran down Levi’s too. The poor demon didn’t even have time to turn around before Diavolo engulfed him in a hug, “hghn…!!! T-too tight, Lord...Diavolo…” Diavolo let go of him with a laugh, turning to you and reaching out his hand. Of course, you took it so he could pull you up. “Did you have fun?” You could feel Leviathan’s nervousness mingle with your own, but you smiled up at him nonetheless, “Yes! Levi beat me pretty much every game, but I’m just glad we got to hang out.” Levi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “You tried your best… It’s just hard to beat the best.” You looked at Levi with disbelief before sticking your tongue out at him, a gesture which he returned. “Whatever. Keep telling yourself that. I let you win.” “Hah!” He genuinely laughed at you, and for a moment you debated on taking offense, but he was your only hope so you let it slide.

“Well, I’m glad you two had fun. Please do tell me anytime you two want to do it again. I hate to leave my darling all by herself, and seeing as you two are such good friends, I think you should come around more often.” It seemed too nice. He was being too nice. A facade he put up in front of others, but you knew all too well what lied beneath. “O-Of course! Thank you, Lord Diavolo.” It was awkward after that, with the two only smiling at each other, Diavolo’s grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Barbatos cleared his throat, “My Lord, I will be escorting Leviathan back to his house now.” You quickly let go of Diavolo’s hand to hug Levi one more time, which he returned almost too stiffly. “It was good to see you… “ You mumbled, before letting go and watching him walk off with Barbatos, hoping that he could deliver the message.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me lord diavolo #shall we date diavolo #om! diavolo #obey me diavolo #lord diavolo x mc #lord diavolo #diavolo x reader #obey me leviathan

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 3 years

Text

We've Got Tonight - Ch 5

Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”

Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.

What the hell, let’s give it a shot.

Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.

This chapter in particular is dedicated to @foxyjwls007 . If I'm going to torture you with something, it's not going to be a cliffhanger. I'm going out of town for two weeks, so you get an update early since I won't be able to post while I'm away. Thank you for the encouragement.

In case you missed it: Chapter 4 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

...

We’ve Got Tonight

Chapter 5

“Miss? Miss? Hey, are you okay?”

A hand grips Andy’s arm, firm but polite, and she jerks to, almost losing her footing. It’s been a long day already, and she still has two hours before she can go home, shower, and put her feet up for a little while before karaoke at the Brass Monkey starts up.

Maybe I can even fit in a nap, she thinks excitedly. But first, gotta wake up and make it through the rest of my shift.

Of course, if she hadn’t been tossing and turning all night from a crazy dream, she wouldn’t be as tired as she is now, but that’s neither here nor there. And it doesn’t help that she can’t even remember the stupid dream. It was really long, though, and there was blood and books and…someone...

“Can I get a refill over here?”

One hour, forty-seven minutes, and twenty-two seconds to go. She can do this.

The minutes crawl, though, and it’s all she can do to stay on her feet and focus. The lunch crowd has long since thinned, and she’s about to ask if she can maybe take off a little early when the door chimes, and she catches the tail end of the entering customers’ conversation.

“Could you at least consider putting something green on your plate? Like, ever? Broccoli won’t kill you.”

“I’ve already told you, I’m getting breakfast since you didn’t wake me up early enough to eat a decent one this morning. Pancakes, bacon, and coffee, which, I might add, grows on a tree, so it counts as a plant. That’s balanced enough for me. You like broccoli; knock yourself out, Jolly Green.”

“Sam isn’t green, Dean. Is your vision faulty? Perhaps we should get your eyes examined. Or you could try carrots along with the broccoli. Carrots are supposed to improve vision.”

No. No, no, no, she thinks, her mind whirling frantically. It was a dream, they can’t be here. This is...this is how it started, and...

She turns, and there they are, Sam and Dean dolled up in their clean, pressed feds suits and Cas looking just as rumpled and bewildered as she suddenly remembers. They seat themselves at an empty table in her section, but any thoughts of leaving early evaporated the second she heard their voices.

Every moment of the dream, every minute of those four weeks comes screaming back, cramming each terror-laden, tension-ridden second into her mind so fast she actually does stumble and has to grab the back of a nearby booth to keep from hitting the worn-out linoleum.

“It...hasn’t happened yet.”

“I’m sorry, did you say something? Hey, hey, hold on there. Are you okay?”

Then Sam’s hand is supporting her elbow, helping her straighten up, and she looks up into his concerned eyes, unable to express how glad she is just to see him breathing. Behind him, Dean and Cas are arguing about something trivial, wonderfully animated and alive and completely unaware of her.

“I’m sorry, hun, it’s just been a long shift. Gimme a minute to grab some waters and menus, and I’ll be right over.” Sam accepts her flimsy excuse at face value, and why wouldn’t he? He hasn’t lived with her for the better part of a month, hasn’t saved her life once, hasn’t tried to save the world with her. He doesn’t know her at all.

Why should he question a strange waitress in a strange diner who says she’s had a long day? He’s met hundreds of women just like her, maybe thousands, and he’s got no reason to question a completely legitimate statement.

She rushes into the back to find the coldest water possible to splash on her face. Her reflection gapes back at her from the staff bathroom mirror as the enormity of her situation begins to dawn on her.

Why? Why is this happening? Either she actually lived through those weeks and is somehow getting a do-over, or she dreamed the whole thing and is getting a shot to fix things from this end. But why? And how?

How in the hell?

Think, Andrea, think. It was real. It will be real. It hasn’t happened yet. You haven’t screwed everything up yet. You have to fix this. But how? How can I fix it when I screwed everything up so very badly last time?

Just...think. Think. Start small. Try to stop it before it happens. But...the cult. Crowley said they were real. They found me before, they’ll find me again. I could talk to Sam and Dean and Cas about what's going to happen. They’ve been through enough insanity in their lives that I actually have a pretty good shot at convincing them.

She stares into the mirror, racking her brain for every helpful detail she learned during her time with the Winchesters.

They're already investigating all the break-ins hereabouts; those were the cultists looking for me in the first place. Then they find me, take me, bleed me, and start the apocalypse. The boys could stop the ritual before it even happens.

Her reflection in the mirror frowns, unconvinced the solution could possibly be that easy.

But the literature, the books, it’s all still out there. Someone else could find it, could come after me. My blood is the problem. I’m the key. As long as I’m around, someone could still use me to end everything. Crowley can still use me to get to them. Think. You’ve got to actually stop everything and save them this time.

Her eyes widen as realization dawns. The world can’t make it without the Winchesters. There’s only one way out of this.

Fifteen minutes later, she sets a fresh green salad in front of Sam before dropping a towering stack of steaming pancakes in front of Dean.

“Fresh pot of coffee coming off in two, be right back with your refills. Need any more butter or syrup, hun? How ‘bout a couple of extra pieces of bacon on the house?”

“Don’t encourage him, please,” Sam groans. Dean slaps his brother on the back of the head, sending Sam’s coiffed hair into a tizzy of disarray. Sam swipes back at his brother, who waves off Sam’s attempts at retaliation like he’s swatting a fly.

“You shut your pie hole. She said free bacon. That makes her a queen.” He turns his most charming smile on her, glancing down at her name tag then back up to meet her gaze squarely. The crinkles around his eyes deepen with his grin. “Andrea, is it?”

“Andy,” she corrects automatically, and she can’t help her answering smile. He throws her a wink that clearly says he knows he’s cheesy but it's all part of his irresistible charm.

She doesn’t disagree.

“You are a goddess, Andy. I love you, and you need to know that.”

“You don’t,” she says, only just managing to keep her voice and smile level, “but you could.” His answering laugh sends a twinge through her chest, and if she clenches her jaw a little around her smile, she figures she’s entitled.

When the men finally finish eating, she offers a slip of paper to Dean, while Sam pretends he isn’t rolling his eyes.

“There’s a karaoke competition at the Brass Monkey tonight. Winner gets tab on the house for a week. Interested in maybe meeting up there around ten or so? We could have a drink, sing a song, and see where the rest of the night takes us.”

He grins and takes the slip from her with sure fingers. She’s certain he has her number memorized before the paper even retains his prints, but he makes a special show of tucking it safely into his pocket.

“Dean, do you think it wise to allow yourself to be so distracted when we’re in the middle of an investigation?”

And without even realizing it, Cas gives her the perfect opening.

“Oh, you boys investigating all the break-ins hereabouts? Were they too much for our local boys to handle? Listen, hun, my friend was one of the ladies whose house got broken into. If you want to stick around for a few minutes, I can fill you in on what I know and send you her way. Would that help?”

Castiel’s eyebrows lift in surprise, and he is clearly pleased with his first-rate investigating skills. “That would help immensely, Miss Andrea. Thank you.”

She can’t believe her luck at such a perfect lead-in, and she runs with it.

“Now that I think about it, the shop next door mentioned something about their alarm getting tripped a few nights in a row. Maybe I could talk to your friend while you two check it out? And I’ll see you tonight, Dean? Ten o’clock?”

Dean’s grin softens, and she can see the faintest tinge of red along his cheeks. She didn’t notice it the first time around, and now she wishes she’d paid more attention. Then the brothers leave, and she’s alone with the angel. ...

Chapter 6

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phonecallwithsatan · 3 years

Text

Letter

a.n.: SURPRISE another new character that does not fit with my profile photo. This is for my very dear friend who enjoys a certain Sarah Paulson. To anyone new reading this, welcome! To those coming back, nice to meet again.

Reader and Mildred Ratched live a secret life in Lucia, California. All is well, truly, until reader walks in on something she did not expect. Angst central. 3.8k

★

“Go home, baby. Don’t worry about us. It’s fine.” Your partner of three years, almost four, was severely under the weather and looking even paler in the cyan outfit your shared job required as uniform.

You and Mildred were tucked away in a hallway where you could talk in confinement away from all the other patients and staff. You took a hand to her forehead and noticed how warm it was. You slipped the hand to her cheek and held it there, hers going up and holding it softly, sinking her head a bit into your palm.

“Call me a cab. You can take the Ford home.” Mildred heard some footsteps coming from down the hall and she quickly let go of your hand after kissing you ever so lightly as to not smear her red color on your black lipstick. You said goodbye and let go of your partner, walking away first with your white heels clicking on the linoleum floor with every step you took away. You hated these heels with a passion but it was part of the uniform. The black heels you adored were stashed away in the teal Ford you and Mildred shared.

You smoothed out your dress while you were still walking and did not turn around when you heard Mildred walking after you a few steps behind. You were deeply in love but you still kept the relationship a secret from your coworkers.

Once you got up to reception you located the phone and dialed the cab number. While it was ringing, you went up to your neck and touched the necklace Mildred gave you for your birthday a few months ago. You fidgeted around with the little heart that hung around your neck with a photo of you two inside of it.

The attendant picked up after six rings.

“Hi there, a cab at Lucia State Hospital, please.” You looked up and saw Mildred walk behind the desk by you and you smiled.

“Alright, I have a driver headed there now.” She ended abruptly.

You turned with the heels on your shoes to face Mildred.

“They said it would come shortly.” You tried reaching for her hand but she pulled back quickly. You had forgotten that no one knew.

“Thank you, y/n.” Her quiet voice barely made it over to you and she could tell you were disappointed in the lack of physical touch. Seeing this, she decided to push your necklace back into your collar. Mildred looked to the side almost to pretend to be looking for the cab you had ordered her but you knew she was just checking for people around.

You were tired of hiding, truly. But there was nothing you could really do. Besides it all, however, you were lucky just to have her. You turned to look at her point of direction and you saw the cab roll-up.

“I’ll see you later, M.” You turned back around and gave her purse over to take home. She opened up her purse and gave you the key for the Ford.

“Do you have money on you?” She nodded and you sent her off, looking over the desk as she walked away with confidence in her step even though she was hiding her own life away from the people she ate lunch next to.

The doors opened and you decided to get back to work. Only six more hours.

★

Eight o’clock rolled around and you were ready to head home after saying goodbye to all your coworkers. You hadn’t heard from Mildred through a phone call so you decided to surprise her with flowers, just because.

You took the keys out of your purse and you walked to the car. As you reached it, you popped the trunk open and took out your beloved shiny black heels. You sat down in the trunk and slipped the white ones off, throwing them worthlessly and carelessly behind you. You snorted to yourself and decided to leave them there until tomorrow’s shift. You pushed your feet in one by one after closing either clasp on them and you closed the trunk when you were done.

Luckily, you knew how to drive well in heels too.

The engine powered up and you headed for the store that was closest to you and Mildred’s home. You were frequent there since you took the liberty to do most of the shopping for the house.

You loved this store because of its broad selection of arrangements, ranging from daisies to carnations, hydrangeas available any time of year, and iris’ that brightened up your home.

The Ford was parked close and you walked in headed straight to the florals. You were mesmerized by the selection as you ran your hands through some of the flowers, holding your purse close to you and your lips pursed slightly as you made your selection.

“Are we shopping for anyone in specific today, Miss?” You turned and saw the attendant come closer to you.

You heard Mildred’s voice in your head saying that ‘it’s a small town, don’t,’ and you decided to throw a white lie.

“My best friend. She isn’t feeling well.” You watched as the attendant unsubtly scanned your face. Her eyes flickered from your bold lipstick up to your piercing eyes, switching back and forth until you couldn’t handle it anymore. You cleared your throat and she finally responded.

“How about some tulips? White, maybe? Or you might like something… bolder.” You cocked your head to the side at that comment and you took a step closer to the attendant.

“Maybe you could get me twelve stems of those red roses back there.” You turned a bit and pointed at a bouquet of roses behind the lady. She strained her neck to look and as she did her brows were furrowed.

She began to walk towards them and she spoke once again. “Best friend, you say? Aren’t these a bit too much?” She took them out of their temporary holding space and you withheld yourself from snapping.

Her back was still turned towards you as she wrapped them up for you. As she was, you took a twenty out of your wallet.

As she turned around you noticed her still staring at you in a very unsophisticated manner considering she was a sixty-year-old woman working at a market for four dollars an hour.

She handed you the roses and you pushed the twenty on the table beside you. “Keep the change, ma’am.”

You turned slowly enough the see the look on her face and you smiled to yourself as you walked to your car with the roses in hand. Mildred loved red.

You placed them on the passenger’s seat and began the short commute home. You fiddled with the radio in the dark and you came home within minutes. As you were pulling into the driveway, you noticed a car you didn’t recognize. Maybe one of the neighbors was having guests over and they had decided to park on your side of the lawn. Strange, you thought.

You switched over from drive to park and you turned the key to the left. Your home was dimly lit, even at 8:30 when you two would normally have dinner or read together. Instead of lit up windows that faced the street you were greeted with two out of the three being dark.

You took the flowers and purse from the seat and you locked the car before opening the door of your home. You yelled out for Mildred who could have been anywhere in the house. A different black pair of kitten heels greeted you at the front door instead. Those were not yours and they definitely did not belong to Mildred.

“Mildred, baby? I’m home!” You yelled once more while kicking lightly at the shoes. Placing your purse down on the kitchen table, you followed the light down the hallway that was peeking out from the crack inbetween door and carpet.

“M?” This call was quieter. It was surreal and realizing as to what was happening around you. It was barely above a whisper. The roses were still clutched in your hands as you reached for the gold door handle.

There was music playing from a stereo you had bought for the house. It was the first purchase you had made under this roof, and your lover was using it for someone else.

Infront of you laid Mildred and an unknown person in your bed. They were too busy to notice you walk in on their space. It seemed like that was how they prayed, in a shared bed that was no longer.

“Mildred, you deceiving wrench, you-” They turned around and almost like a movie deferred away from each other like two negatives. Her red lipstick was smeared all over the stranger’s face which even trailed down to her body. The sheets barely reached over her and a migraine began to form when you saw red trail down her neck to torso. Your hand flew to your mouth and your hand unconsciously gripped the flowers with a grip that was only familiar when you had to grab a patient.

“Y/n, hold on,” Mildred tried to explain but you moved faster and threw the flowers against the wall. Tears were becoming and you looked at the two that were still somehow entangled.

The flowers flew apart from their wrapping and landed in different positions on the floor. You were screaming at this point.

Your own lover. Your partner. Your lady. Your wife, even. This was your best friend, the person who hung up your jackets and the person who read outloud to you when your voice was gone. That same person didn’t even bother to change the sheets.

“You,” reached down and took the locket in your hands before tearing it off and walking over to them. “You, skank,” you shoved the necklace in the stranger’s face from inches away, “get the fuck out.”

She didn’t budge.

“Now!” You screamed and you heard Mildred yell back. The stranger got up, naked and covered in red. You turned your eyes away.

“Don’t talk to Gwen that way, y/n-” she wasn’t able to finish her sentence because you slapped her. Hard and across the face. So hard that she turned to the right to stare at Gwen.

“I didn’t know Gwen was so close to you, Mildred.” You turned to Miss Gwen and you were almost unable to hold yourself back from attacking her.

“Gwen, get the fuck out before I figure out who’s ring that is.” The ring you were mentioning was on her left hand and was obviously not from Mildred. As much as you hated and despised her soul at the moment, she would never buy a ring like that one.

Gwen was practically sprinting at this point with clothes in hand. Funny enough, she was clinging onto the locket Mildred had given you.

“Y/n, hold on, please-” you interrupted her.

“Can’t you say anything else, M?” You closed your eyes the minute you called her by her nickname. Mildred was up from the bed and was frantic to cover her self up with the white sheets you two had slept and loved in.

You stared at her. You waited for an answer. But nothing came out. Just prolonged staring and smeared lipstick coated your eyes.

You walked up to her once more. You waited and waited, but nothing. She tried reaching for your hand but you repeated your earlier move and hit her once more.

“Don’t you dare, Mildred. Don’t you dare and try to justify anything you have done.” Your finger was pointed towards her.

You walked out of the room and slammed he door. You heard it open but you ignored it as you were halfway down the wall.

“Y/n, baby-”

“Do not.” You spoke clearly and commanding. You reached the closet that held some coats and you grabbed a few. You moved down and felt her presence float around you.

You grabbed your purse and some shoes. You were not staying here tonight.

She grabbed your arm and you turned to look at the cheater who had accompanied your walk.

You two just stared at each other and her grip tightened. You shook your arm to let it loose but she would not budge.

You let your eyebrows relax and you mouth untighten. Her eyes stared deep into yours but you could just tell that there was nothing left between you two. Nothing could repair this. You shook it once more and didn’t break eye contact until she let go.

You slammed the closet door before walking out and you opened the door. Mildred followed.

She was saying something but it’s hard to register when the rage blows through your nose and ears.

You walked over to the car which you two shared and you threw your belongings in the back seat and the hopping in the front. You locked the doors before Mildred could get to you. You watched her through the window as she pleaded for you. You turned the key to the right and put the car in reverse. She ran to the back and held on to the trunk of the car. You could see her in the rear view mirror and she was not giving up without a fight.

Unknowing of what to do, you decided to scare her instead. Still in reverse, you pressed the break and the gas at the same time to rev the engine a bit and create a sound that would startle her. It worked, and she jumped to the side after you did that maneuver. Now that she was gone, you were able to safely back up.

Your tires squealed as you exited the driveway and you watched her sit in silence. The sheets had turned to brown shreds and all you could do is stare in amusement.

There was nothing left as you continued down the road with your headlights shining bright and your rearview mirror regretfull.

★

You had been driving all night from Lucia only to end up in a motel somewhere in Nevada.

You had gotten a decent nights, or days, rest and contemplated where you could end up staying for the rest of, well, life at this point. Luckily you had some cousins in Colorado. You were just hopeful that your now borrowed Ford would get you there with no problems.

The room was alright as far as the hotel clerk would know and you were able to pay and leave.

The blue Ford was waiting for you patiently and it was ready to keep moving. You hopped in and searched for some sunglasses in the glove compartment. You were sort of just digging blindly.

Instead, you found a letter. You took it out and saw your name written on it in the one and only Mildred’s cursive handwriting. Your neatly applied black lips tightened a bit and you closed the glove compartment after successfully finding a pair of cat eye shades.

You spun around the folded letter a bit and you contemplated what to do. It definitley was not placed after yesterdays events, but not before. How long was this sitting here?

You decided to open it besides it all.

Ripping it open, the letter inside read as following:

Y/n,

Four years with you have been passionate, lustful, insightful, glorious, and most of all, beautiful. Maybe it was the eyes, or perhaps the words, but you’ve found a way to tie me down and I wouldn’t leave even if I was forced to. You could shun me, and I would still love you. You could spit, kick, loathe, hit, and run me over, and I would still come back.

I had always thought that settling down with someone would mean protruding coprimises and mandatory family dinners, but you changed that, y/n. You’ve changed my perception of love and desire. The moment you walked into Lucia, I knew I had to have you.

I understand how difficult it can be to hide what we have but I want to change that. I don’t want to resist holding your hand when we walk past our neighbors and I don’t want to lie and say I’m living with my friend from High School. I promise you this isn’t forever, just temporary. Believe me, I will do everything to change that.

I want to give you this not because I have to, but because I want to. I can’t stand deceiving you so please believe me when I say that these words come from the heart and soul. Understand that, please.

I never knew I could care for someone this much.

You’re my once in a lifetime; you’re the one, y/n.

Always with love, yours truly,

Mildred Ratched.

The inconsistent words made you laugh to yourself.

You took the paper and crumpled it in your hands. Your windows were already rolled down and you threw it out the passengers side. It rolled around a bit but eventually settled.

Placing the car in reverse, you backed out of your spot. You took your sunglasses and pushed them up a bit before placing the car in drive and running over the letter.

#mildred ratched #mildred x y/n #mildred #ratched #ratched netflix #mildred ratched x reader #ratched fanfiction #mildred ratched fanfic

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jay-and-dean · 4 years

Text

Firefly Chapter 7 : Eighteen and twenty-eight years old

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ?

Summary : 40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her.

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here…

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer… And also Sammy and Jack…

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 4330

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it.

Firefly Chapter 1

Firefly Chapter 2

Firefly Chapter 3

Firefly Chapter 4

Firefly Chapter 5

Firefly Chapter 6

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

——————————————————————————

She wasn’t moving at all. Sitting on the bench in the middle of this ocean of life, she watched people walk by. The sun had gone down now, after moving from building to building, making giant shadows change the whole city constantly.

She was overwhelmed, unable to move at all. Her eyes were drinking the world like new born baby’s ones. None of her muscles moved for hours, her fists clinging at her dress, her heart bleeding in silence for Dean.

A few people stopped to ask her if she was okay, but she couldn’t answer, her voice locked in her lungs…

But she finally got up.

After days of hiding in alleys, and walking on boulevards, escaping weird men yelling at her in the dark of night… It started to rain. A heavy, pouring storm rain that made her dress heavy and washed the dust out of her. And that warm loud summer rain somehow woke her from her torpor.

She had to live, and learn everything about life because that’s what Dean wanted for her… But Dean wasn’t here, and he will never be. So she came back to that bench, soaked and shaking, and started to cry for him. She had to be happy for the man she loved, and couldn’t without him…

Her tears only calmed with the rain that day. And even when her eyes stopped crying, her heart never stopped weeping for Dean a single second.

Not when she got up from that bench to find a map of the city on the subway station, not when she found clothes, and ripped that stupid dress of her body… It was still weeping when she first found people in the street and asked her where to find food. It was screaming inside her during her first night in a foster home for homeless people… When she fought for the first time to escape men again.

Her heart was weeping for Dean the first time she laughed, seeing cartoons in a TV store front, when she found out about drugs and abuse, cheating, wealth... when she started to be hungry, when she fell of exhaustion in an alley…

And even if her eyes stayed dry, her soul kept crying when the demons attacked.

Lilith had sent them after her as soon as the Queen noticed Y/n was no longer in Hell. She was hiding in an abandoned building when dozens of demons attacked her, she fought with teeth and nails to get them off and she won, but that wasn’t the end… Lilith kept sending more minions and, exhausted but determined to live, Y/n had only one option left.

She faked her own death. With the help of her powers and some research in the nearby library and in the maze of knowledge she had memorized over the years, she tricked the demons into believing she was dead, and used a certain pattern of sigils to hide herself, cloaked from every supernatural being.

Finally she was free.

So things went easier. After a little while, she met her own little angel : Sue. An older lady who offered Y/n shelter when she caught her dumpster diving her diner. Sue found Y/n a little odd at first, everyone thought that of her, but just as with every person Y/n had met on her way, Sue liked the happy girl she always seemed to be, enthusiastic about the very simpler things ; so she offered Y/n a job as a waitress in her diner.

_____________

Y/n’s window was rolled down as the loud music blasted through the speakers of her raven black 1967 Ford Mustang as she drove to work, still the same job at Sue’s diner. And she was smiling wide on her way, because she loved every single thing about this job.

She parked her car in the lot and made her way inside to take her light blue apron.

“Morning Y/n! How are you doing today sweetie ?” Sue asked.

“You know, same old same old.” Y/N shrugged.

Tying her apron on her, Y/n smiled kindly. She looked so different from what Dean had known, and hopefully different enough so no demon passing by ever recognized her. Her hair was tied together and no longer falling on a waterfall in her back. No more fancy dresses but only jeans and all the t-shirts she liked, with rock bands on it, or her favorite movies posters...

Sue sighed and put her hand on Y/n’s shoulder.

“Are you still working on freeing Prince Charming ?” she asked Y/n with an apologetic smile.

“Yes, I promised I would get him out and I won’t stop until he is” she said determinedly.

When Sue had just found Y/n she kindly offered her to stay at her house until she could get on her own feet. Y/n dreamed a lot about Dean, some dreams worse than the others, so after the third night of her guest screaming Dean’s name, Sue had asked her who he was. Y/n couldn’t tell her everything so she said he was the love of her life and was wrongly imprisoned, and that she had promised to get him out.

“He’s a very lucky guy to have you, Y/n” Sue told her.

“Yeah, I just… I miss him so much…” Y/n said as she made the last knot on her apron.

“I know sweetie, but if you truly love him, he’ll come back, just wait and see” she smiled with that protective expression she always had when it came to her protégée, even if she seemed sometimes perplexed about all those stories she told.

She gave her her note book to write down the orders.

“Yeah I hope so” Y/n clicked on her pen and made her way into the diner to take up the orders of all the customers.

It was a quiet day, she loved this little diner, the food was amazing and it even had a little jukebox she often used. It had given her a shelter, money to live, but also an identity and friends. A life.

Her smile faded like it did sometimes, Dean would have loved this diner too… She thought back to all the things she discovered on Earth.

She did everything Dean had told her about : She went to the movie theater, she learned how to drive (thanks to Sue), she had a date or four, went to a party, she got drunk a few times. She danced alone and with others, kissed a girl and travelled a little. Her appetite for life was never ending, so she had driven to the ocean and dived, she had smoked weird things once and ran in the forest, she had woke in the middle of the night to go buy ice-cream, she had sang in the shower and stayed home for an entire weekend crying while watching bad tv shows… And she even lost her virginity to a sweet boy. But nothing could get her mind off Dean, calm her weeping heart or divert her from her goal.

Every night she looked up at the stars and imagined him by her side, she could use her power to create an image of him that existed out of a million little stars, well more like a million little fireflies.

A lot of time had passed since she last saw him, her heart broke at the thought of him down there for so long. He must have forgotten her by now, if his soul even survived those many years.

A throat being cleared pulled her from her daydreaming. She turned to find a man smiling at her.

“Oh my apologies, what can I get you, sir ?” she asked the man, there was something unpleasant about him, he had dirty blonde hair and she didn’t like the way his blue eyes were traveling her up and down.

“Are you on the menu ?” he asked her with a sly smile.

Y/n sighed deep, why were a lot of men on Earth such… pigs ?

“No sorry, I was just joking” the man began. “I’ll take a coffee with some pancakes.”

Y/n wrote his order down and left with a forced smile.

He was the only customer today so Y/n handed the paper to Sue so she could make it and sat down at the little bar. She was watching the man in the mirror that hung on the other side of the counter. She couldn’t shake the eerie feeling she got from the man, he looked normal, but she could feel something… something powerful radiating off him.

The bell pulled Y/n out of her haze as she took the coffee and pancake to the man.

“Here you go sir, enjoy your meal” Y/n said as she dropped the food at his table.

“Thank you.”

She was starting to leave when his voice stopped her.

“Can I ask you a question, miss ?” he asked as he took a bite from the pancake.

“Yeah, of course” Y/n shrugged.

“You haven’t been here for long have you ?” he said as he looked at her.

“Uhm no, not very long. Are you from around here ?” Y/n asked, he was just a normal guy, it was impossible for anyone to find her anyway.

“Oh no not at all. But i didn’t mean this diner...” he kept on eating nonchalantly, he swallowed. “I meant Earth.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide, she turned and ran towards the exit only to bump into the man who was just sitting at the table behind her half a second ago.

“Who are you” Y/n asked as she stepped back from him

A deep sigh left his mouth.

“It hurts me that you even have to ask that, Y/n” he blinked and his irises turned to a fiery red.

Y/n ran towards the kitchen to get Sue. She pulled open the door and shrieked as her dear friend fell on her with her eyes burned out.

Dead.

“No ! Sue !” Y/n started shaking, cupping her friend’s face. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER ?” Y/n screamed to the man walking in casually.

“She put too much milk in my coffee, so I ended her” he shrugged nonchalantly.

Y/n stood up, her eyes a flare as she widened her arms to unleash her powers. Two fiery tentacles wrapped around the man’s legs.

“You’ll regret this” she said, her voice sounding like a thousand people at once.

The man gave her a sly smirk and snapped his fingers, her powers stopped immediately. She thrusted her hands forward to him, but nothing happened. Fear shone in her eyes as she looked at him in disbelief.

“It’s time we should head home, Y/n” he stepped closer to her, his fingers tilting up her chin.

“We have a family to start” he whispered against her lips with a dark chuckle.

“L-Lucifer” she gasped.

His arms wrapped tight around her and before she could blink she was back in Hell.

The suffocating smell of sulfur and blood made her cough, her whole body started to shake as she started to desperately gasp for air, her lungs crushed by the most powerful anxiety she ever felt. Her arms reached to her enemy in a pleading scratch, like he was strangling her…

“Home sweet home, baby�� he cruelly cooed in her ear, his breath heavy on her skin.

She pried her arms between them to push out of his embrace. He chuckled as he let her go and she fell backwards, scrambling away from him.

“Stay away from me!” she finally managed to yell at him, her eyes flaring back to life as she was losing control over her powers.

He tilted his head at her as he watched her, his steps following her every move.

“You are such a pretty thing, I see some potential too. But I was told you were,” he hummed in thought “a pain in the ass. And I’m starting to see why.”

Her eyes were scanning everything, the bloody walls, the frozen air all around her, the never ending screams, the smell of fear and fire.

No she couldn’t be back in Hell…

With a turn of his wrist she was lifted up in the air, she tried to fight his power, but he was too strong… She couldn’t take on the Lord of Hell…

“Y/n, I’m only going to tell you that only once : You will obey and be helpful” he said with every step until he stood nose to nose with her, his eyes drinking her in.

She gave him a sweet smile before she spat in his face.

“Never” she told him.

His hand came up to wipe her spit away, he licked his hand clean, humming at her taste.

“As you wish, Y/n. Then my little slave needs chains...” he sneered.

Iron ropes wrapped around her as soon as the word left his lips, they burned into her flesh making her scream in pain. She fell heavy to the ground at his feet.

“For eternity” he finished as he sat down on his throne.

“No p-please, no chains… everything but chains” she begged him.

“Oh no baby, I know what you used to do when you’re set loose, but forget about that, he isn’t here anyway, no reason to go wandering. Jeal told me all about you and your little lover.” he said as he crossed his legs over each other.

“H-he isn’t ? H-How” she asked, suddenly able to ignore the pain of the iron digging in her flesh.

How was that possible ?

“He got out, Heaven’s plans. Now stop asking or I’ll gag you too” he sighed, looking at her. “I’ll make you your own little cage, like they did for me. No way you’ll get away from this one. And don’t think your daddy will help, he still thinks you’re dead. Everyone does.”

She whimpered in silence, only one thought on her mind. He was free…

Dean Winchester was alive.

________________________

Dean’s Pov

Dean woke up in a little painful whine, he opened his eyes and wiped the sweat off his face and neck, watching the ceiling, trying to focus on the contour of his body, the sheets and the pillow. He took a deep breath to calm his heaving chest.

Another nightmare.

And this one wasn’t the violent surviving of Purgatory, it wasn’t the burning guilt of old fights with John, the crushing pain of seeing Sam die ; it wasn’t the despair of losing Mary again, the disturbing memories of being a demon… It was the worst : Hell.

And among the worst, the tortures and the screams, tonight’s nightmare had to be about the cruellest idea demons ever came up with : fake hope.

In his dream, he was laying on the floor of his cell, barely able to breath because of the blood drowning his lungs, and he felt her hand, her tiny soft fingers wrapped around his wrist to ease his panic. She whispered sweet things to him but when he lifted his eyes to see her face, only Alastair was there, laughing loud and sharpening knives.

Dean stretched and shook his head, like he could get rid of those memories like that. He couldn’t let nightmares get to him, and he couldn’t let his past crush him.

With his guts still aching from the dream, he forced himself to get up. Staying in bed only made the memories clearer, and the trauma cut deeper. He knew only another hunt could ease the pain.

Maybe, just maybe, if he saved enough people, he would finally expiate.

The bunker was silent, even Sam was still sleeping so early in the morning. Walking to the kitchen, he frowned : His knee was still hurting and the bruises on his face and collarbones too.

Damn demon.

He turned to enter the kitchen and jumped a little.

“Hi Dean, sorry I scared you” Jack said, looking up from his bowl of cereal, his big eyes going to the hunter’s wounds quickly. “How are you ?”

“I’m fine. What are you doing up so early ?” Dean grunted, going straight to the coffee in his long grey robe.

“I have trouble sleeping lately” the boy answered, frowning in confusion like he often did.

“Try whiskey” Dean muttered low in a sleepy grunt.

“Alcohol is really not a solution to my problem I think” Jack turned to him, even more confused.

“I was kidding” he sighed, sitting in front of the young boy.

Sometimes Jack really was Castiel’s son…

The hunter scratched his scruff and took the cereal to plunge his hand in the box, eating some while reading the joke behind it.

“I hear a voice in my head” Jack sighed.

Dean looked up, ready to make a mocking joke but he noticed a genuine worry on the boy’s face.

“A voice ?”

“Yes” Jack searched Dean’s face. “At first I thought maybe I overheard something on the angel radio, but… It seems different.”

“What does it say ?”

“I don’t really understand it” Jack shrugged.

“Understand what ?” Sam asked, scratching his head while entering the room with his hair in every direction and the left side of his face still swollen and bruised. “Wow, everyone is up early this morning ! What am I missing ?”

“Jack says he hears a voice” Dean repeated, getting up to get coffee now it was ready. “But he doesn’t know where it comes from or what it says” he groaned slightly.

Please don’t let that be bad news again…

Dean sat heavily, rubbing his tired eyes while his brother interrogated Jack. How long had he been hearing the voices, were there several, was it constant… The boy only had a very few answers.

“We need to find where it comes from, Dean” Sam states, making his brother grunt again in his coffee mug.

That didn’t sound like a good old fight and kill hunt, it sounded like trouble.

_____________________

Dean pushed the heavy metal door and went down the stairs, overhearing his brother, Jack and Castiel talking in the library.

Reaching them, he almost threw the bag on the wooden table, not daring to ask any question seeing the three too serious faces looking at him.

“I guess no good news” he mumbled deep in his throat looking down to grab a beer from the bag.

“Dean” Castiel started with his worried voice, making the hunter look instantly slightly annoyed. “The voice comes from Hell.”

“Hell” Dean repeated casually, taking a sip of beer to wash the word from his mouth. “There are a lot of voices in Hell, it’s pretty loud down there.”

When his eyes fell on Sam, a shiver roamed his back. He had the face, Dean hated that face, the “you’re not going to like it” face. So he put his beer down on the table and sighed.

“What is it ?” he finally asked.

“The voice, Dean” Jack said. “It’s calling you.”

“Me” Dean’s eyes widened. “There can be another dude named Dean in Hell !”

“Dean…” Sam sighed. “Who could be calling you ?”

Dean’s first thought went to Bobby. They had freed him from Hell a few years ago, he was supposed to be in Heaven, and Crowley had decided differently… Maybe someone they lost ? An innocent locked in Hell by mistake ? But Rowena was on the throne now… Would she do that ?

“How can you hear a voice coming from Hell ?” he shook his head. “Do you hear them all ?”

“No” Jack said. “Only this one.”

Dean sat and took a deep breath, realizing this would mean that he would have to visit Hell... again. After those break in, the nightmares were always worse, and last time he had to deal with a panic attack in the shower.

“Okay” he stated. “What is the plan ? And how do we know it’s not a trap ?”

_____________________

“So your plan…” Rowena frowned from her throne, her long dress nonchalantly falling on the floor. “Is letting the boy follow a voice like a dog on a leash ?”

Dean’s face was stern, his arms tense, his heart a little compressed in his chest.

Each time he smelled that horrible sulfur mixed with blood smell, it was like he could feel the chains and the needles and hear Alastair’s voice all over again. Then he had two choices in his mind : Either he accepted it, and stayed with the demon’s croaky voice in his head for days, or focused on what had made him hold on for years back then : the secret girl’s soft touches ; but then the fear was replaced by the crushing feeling of despair and sadness, at knowing he had been fooled that bad, into believing innocence exited.

“More or less” his brother answered. “Rowena, you have to admit it’s something new… And if there are leaks in Hell…”

“Yeah yeah…” the witch sighed. “But don’t come crying when your little baby angel comes back traumatized. This is not a place for kids.”

Oh the irony.

“It’s not there” Jack cut them with a frown, looking around.

“What do you mean it’s not there ?” Dean grunted. “You were sure it came from Hell !”

“It does…” the boy stated. “Just deeper.”

“Deeper ?” Sam shook his head, but turned to Rowena, immediately trusting Jack as always. “Is there a basement in Hell ?”

“A basement ? Hell is a multi-dimensional…”

“Answer him” Dean cut her, losing patience.

Rowena got up and demons entered the room. She gave orders about getting the records, about the cage, and all. After a few very long minutes, a demon in an old man vessel came closer to the Queen, whispering something in her ear.

“Oh really ?” Rowena said. “Why am I not aware of all this ?”

“Because they’re all empty, your Majesty” the demon shrugged.

“What is ?” Sam insisted with a flustered move of his hands.

Rowena sat again.

“There are cages, like the one that held Lucifer once. Smaller ones, but for all we know, they are all empty.”

“For all you know ?” Dean raised his voice a little.

“No one uses them” Rowena shrugged.

“They held an angel during the war between Heaven and Hell” the demon spoke, his voice shaking a little, obviously uneasy in front of the Winchesters. “I-in the dawn of time, but the angel was killed by Lucifer before Michael locked him in the cage… We kinda forgot where they were.”

“Take us to them” Jack ordered Rowena with this frown of his.

Rowena looked to the demon that didn’t move, his eyes on Dean, like the hunter could suddenly decide to kill all of them.

“Merihem, take us to those cages” Rowena called him. “Chop chop.”

____________________

The light of Hell’s fire didn’t reach that deep in the pit, like the sun in the deepest ocean.

Dean was holding the torch like it was his lifeline in this vertiginous nightmare of deafening silence. Everything was threateningly pitch black, a perfect representation of the fear of dark, a big cold lonely nothingness… With stairs in the middle.

“I didn’t know there was anything deeper than Lucifer’s cage” the Queen’s voice echoed weirdly in the void.

Suddenly, the stairs stopped and Dean banged into metal bars. He lifted his torch to see what was behind it, but the cage was empty.

“It’s here” Jack whispered. “I can feel it.”

Sam opened the empty cage, his arm hair ruffling at the touch of the same metal that held his soul for so long.

“Nothing” he said, holding back his own trauma probably as hard as Dean did.

“Dean…” a weak voice made them all jump, coming from the dark.

“Who is this ?” the hunter grunted, taking a few unsure steps to the next cage, firmly holding his torch in front of him with an almost trembling arm.

“Dean…” the voice now whined.

Sam put his hand on his brother’s shoulder to make him wait for him. They looked at each other, using silent words and joining their flames to fight the pitch black ahead of them.

Even used to all kinds of nightmares, Dean wasn’t so reassured in the deepest of Hell, called by a weak and plaintive voice coming from the darkest of darks.

Something moved in the cage in a deafening metal noise, a shadow fleeing the light. The brothers both let out a shaky breath, moving closer with the demon and Rowena way behind them.

Dean swallowed, finally distinguishing a body, hunched in the opposite corner of the cage, shaking. Extremely long hair was falling around the pitiful form, chained heavily even inside the cage.

“Who are you ?” he asked again. “You’re calling me, why ?”

No answer.

“Who is this ?” Sam turned to the demon that had guided them.

“I-I have no idea” it answered. “No one came here in years !”

“Dean ?” the voice seemed to struggle thinking straight.

“Jeez” Sam muttered. “For how long has she been there ?”

She ? Dean thought, realizing now it was indeed a woman, her thin delicate hands were clinging to the floor.

His heart was racing in his chest, from being in Hell, from the fear of what he would find, and from something else, something confusing, like an emotion flying in the air around him.

The girl finally lifted her face to them, teary eyes frowned at the light of the flame, her shaking hand open in front of her to soften the burning of the torch.

Dean felt hit violently in the chest, his breathing stopped in a strangled gasp as everything he certainly knew started to crumble in the back of his mind. He opened his mouth but nothing came out… After swallowing twice, he finally managed to speak.

“Firefly ?”

Next Chapter on @roonyxx‘s blog

________________________

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261 notes · View notes

hains-mae · 4 years

Text

Flowers

(Damian x Reader) Soulmate AU

Rating: T

Ages: Damian and you are 16, everyone’s ages follow after.

Summary: Soulmate AU where the wounds on your soulmate turns into a flower tattoo on your skin, if it heals with no scars the tattoo goes away, if it heals with a scar then the tattoo stays. You are just an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life, so one might think it only makes sense that your soulmate is just as ordinary as you. But that isn’t the case. Especially not when your body is constantly littered with flowers. Some of them fade over time, some stay, but one thing is for certain – your soulmate seems to get hurt. A lot.

Notes: Hey there you guys. Recently I’ve been caught up in a Batman fever, and I can’t do anything about it. I ended up creating a challenge for my friend @mrevaunit42 which was an “Character x Reader” Soulmate AU. Seriously, it was all in the name of fun.

And then I got caught up in it, perhaps a little too much – and created this. I’ve never written a soulmate au before, though I really wanted to. (Now I have! Yay~) So please forgive my writing since I’m a little rusty, and I hope you enjoy.

Stay safe everyone.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC. If I did, I wouldn’t make it as confusing as it is now.

I woke up to a burning sensation on my lower ribs in the middle of night. Hissing in pain I slowly pushed my feet out of the warm covers and turned on the lamp beside my bed. Pulling up my shirt I assessed the damage.

It was purple lilacs this time, stretched across the middle of my torso going horizontally to my side. I winced as the tattoo completed itself and just as the heat came, a cold chill ran through it and down my spine. Somehow it soothed the burn.

God, another one? I frowned at the beautiful flower and sighed. It worried me that my soulmate was prone to getting hurt. Sometimes the injuries made sense, like when I found them on my knees, I could easily chalk it up to falling and scraping – but injuries like these were more difficult to decipher.

How does someone normal get hurt this way?

They don’t.

“Unless they’re a criminal.” One of my friends stated dryly days ago.

“Or a hero!” Another said quickly.

Needless to say, I wasn’t in a rush to find out. Whoever this person was, I knew from the start that they were trouble.

The next time I woke, it was to the early morning rays that escaped my curtains and played a fiery dance on my eye lids. I groaned and pulled the covers up wishing I could sleep in for a couple more minutes, but I knew I couldn’t.

A few weeks ago my school, Gotham Academy, announced that they were holding their annual science fair at a convention centre as opposed to the regular school gymnasium, because surprisingly enough, Wayne Enterprise offered to fund the event.

It was no secret that Gotham’s economy was hitting below the desired margin. Many people don’t have jobs which resulted in an influx of crime in the past years. And so Wayne Enterprise collaborated with Gotham’s Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to raise awareness and encourage young minds to strive for a better, innovative future. They shouldered the expenses needed and created an international affair, to top it off; Wayne Ent. also offered scholarships to future college goers and internships in all their branches.

Which was why I couldn’t sleep in today. I had project to work on. In line with our team of sponsors, I decided to invent a weapon that could help the GPD when catching criminals. A gun that projects thin plastic case marbles filled with a chemical concoction that erupts into a quick hardening foam upon impact. The foam itself is not toxic, but it works with catching and detaining. It turns as hard as stone but there was another type of compound that I was in the process of creating to counter act it as a measure of safety.

I got up and started my day.

“Good morning sweetheart.” My mom greeted as I entered the kitchen. She smiled warmly at me as she placed a plate of eggs and bacon on the table.

I couldn’t help but return the gesture, walking up to her and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Morning Mom, are you working tonight?”

“I have to, but don’t worry I’ll be leaving something in the fridge for dinner.”

I thanked her and took my plate into the living room. Turning on the T.V., I easily found the news channel and watched the latest reports on Gotham’s activities.

Mom sometimes had to work on weekends just to make ends meet, which was one reason why I was so hard to get that scholarship and hopefully the internship as well. The other reason was…

A family picture caught my eye in the middle of the news and I bit back a sigh. My dad, my mom, and me. We all were smiling at the camera.

Dad was part of the Police force and died during a heist. Reports stated he was running after the criminals and got shot before he could capture them. That was another reason I chose this as my project. Dad always wanted to fight for justice, hopefully this invention could help.

I finished up my breakfast and helped my mom with chores before I slipped into science mode and continued tinkering with the project. The projectiles were complete and I was able to make 3 in total, which I stored in a small box encased with extra padding.

It was around evening after my mom left that I got another burn. I dropped the screwdriver I was holding and bit my lip. Gasping for breath I pulled my sleeve and watched another flower blossom on my forearm.

The pain was gone in an instant and the cold tickled the skin that was branded. I sighed and slowly straightened my poster. This person, after all these injuries, they better not die before I meet them. I grumbled to myself when I realised I was short on supplies. Poor planning on my part.

I grabbed my bag and locked the front door before I headed out to the nearest hardware store, careful to keep my marks hidden from view. I’ve lived in Gotham my whole life, and I knew that standing out, even in the smallest way, would lead into trouble.

The walk to the store was short and uneventful, thankfully. There were only a few customers. I manoeuvred my way between the isles and picked up what I needed. After paying at the counter I hauled my goods and ducked back into the streets. I almost wished I didn’t stop when I heard that woman cry out for help. I was unarmed, unprepared, and every cell in my body screamed at me to walk – no – run away from the scene that was unfolding before my eyes.

But she was helpless. Clad in a trench coat and rain boots, she didn’t look like much but her bag was definitely designer. The thieves in question had a knife pointed at her face. There were 6 of them. All were towering and bulky next to her petite frame. Their menacing stares struck a cold shiver in me and my hand involuntarily clutched the projectiles I was working on in my pocket. I had a feeling it would be safer with me than it would be at home, however this was not how I imagined I’d first be using them.

The woman screamed again and I clenched my palm.

I sucked in some air and got ready to shout at the perpetrators – until I felt the wind rush past my ear.

In a flash someone had swooped into the scene and kicked the man holding the knife to the ground. The sound of blades being drawn stole my attention. It was Robin. He took a stance between the woman and the men.

“Run. Now.” He told the lady.

She whimpered and scrambled up to her feet dashing towards me, towards the entrance of the alley. She zipped past and didn’t stop running till she turned the corner. I should be running too. But my eyes were fixed on the fight that was about to happen.

Robin seemed no older than me. In reality there was no way he could win against 6 huge men. But then again, this was Robin. No normal teenager.

“6 against 1.” He mused, the grip on his katana tightened. “That hardly seems fair.”

The one who held the knife, possibly the leader of the gang, growled thickly. “Get‘im boys.”

They all rushed towards him at the same time, hands in the air and weapons ready. Robin whipped his blade and easily knocked two knives down, the remaining used their strength and threw punches that looked like it would strike anyone straight to next week. The masked boy effortlessly dodged all their hits. Crouching, jumping, twisting, exactly when needed and not a second too late. His movements were precise; a quick jab below the rib striking the kidney with the handle of the sword, a sharp slam of his elbow to the chin, and to close the deal with a blunt blow force to the side of the neck. The goon fell like a tree that’s been cut down.

I gaped in awe.

The others rushed to avenge their fallen comrade, but Robin was quicker and used his blade to disable them. He kicked one of them into the brick wall, a sickening crunch echoed as the goons’ head smashed into it, then a howl of pain when Robin sliced his back. I cringed at the sight of the blood. It was a superficial wound, at least from my vantage point. The cut was deep enough to hurt and draw red, but not enough to kill.

The next lunged himself and grabbed Robin’s wrist, the boy growled and kicked him the face, forcing to free himself. He couldn’t see the other one running towards them from behind, the weapon aiming straight for Robin’s back.

“Robin!” I found my voice and screamed. “Behind you!”

He did a roundhouse kick and slammed the head of the one holding his wrist, then using the momentum back flipped and kicked the one who was behind.

I sighed in relief.

“What are you doing just standing there?!” He shouted at me as he readied himself again. “I said run!”

That got all the men’s attention. The ones that fell got back up and huffed angrily.

“Get the girl!” The leader shouted. “We can use her.” His leer sent bile rushing up my throat.

I squeaked as 3 of them started to chase me. Finally my legs listened and I dashed across the street onto the other pavement.

They were too fast though, their thundering footsteps grew closer towards me. My lungs burned as I tried to inhale some much needed oxygen, physical sports like running really weren’t my thing. I nearly tripped on an uneven tile as a scream rippled out of my throat. I braced myself for impact but it never came. Instead I felt a rush of wind across my face and a lightness below me. The ground was getting further and further away.

I realised I was being carried. Looking up, I was face to face with Red Robin.

“God thing I saw you when I did or you’d be dead meat.” He said dryly as we landed on a roof.

“Th-thank you.” I breathed, trying to gulp in as much needed air as I could. “Robin – he –“ But I didn’t know how to articulate. The adrenaline rush was messing with my head, and I could barely think straight.

Yet Red Robin nodded, understanding. He jumped off the roof and shot his grappling hook. I peered down and saw the fight started to move, from the alley to the side walk. The goons cornered Robin into a store front and were relentless as they threw punch after punch. The other 3 that were chasing me were already fighting Red just below the building that he deposited me on.

I watched in horror as the glass shattered everywhere around them. They weren’t just normal gangs I discerned, they knew how to fight. And unlike the birds and bat, they didn’t mind taking a life.

Clutching the projectiles again in my pocket, I brought them up with trembling hands.

“I hope this works.” I whispered to myself and pulled out my elastic hair tie.

Hooking one of the orbs onto the elastic, I aimed for the goons attacking Robin, and pulled as far as the band could go. Willing my hand to stop shaking, I said a silent prayer and released my hold.

Time seemed to go into slow motion as it flew across the air. I held my breath.

It hit the ground between two goons and burst into a big foamy cloud of vibrant cobalt, instantly seizing the men and solidified their prison as the concoction cooled.

Both fights stopped for a split second, as they watched the chemical reaction, which now looking back was a mistake on all parties.

I gasped and thanked whoever was listening.

The leader roared and pulled a pistol. I felt my throat tighten as the gun set a bullet free.

Robin and I cried out in pain as the bullet dug into him. Tears threatened to roll down my cheek as I clutched my burning shoulder.

A birdarang zipped towards the leader, catching his wrist and making him let go of the weapon. With a grunt, Robin kicked him hard across the chest stealing the perpetrators breath and with a quick turn, smashed his foot onto the mans jaw, cracking it before letting him fall with a loud thud.

The fight continued and Robin easily subdued his last opponent. Then he ran across the street to finish up with Red. Both of them moved in fluid motions like well trained dancers as they fought while protecting each others weak spots. They took down the last 3 goons and tied them up just as the police sirens blared within the distance.

I jumped up from my spot and turned to run but stopped when I saw the two Robins in my path.

“You.” The younger one started. “You were the one who shot the…”

I nodded wordlessly, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through my body. A nasty red splotch caught my attention and I believe they both noticed as I glanced at it. My own hand went up and clutched my shoulder unconsciously, a cold sensation rippled through where the bullet was.

“Oh my god.”

---

to be continued...

Part 2, 3, 4, 5 (end)

#Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian x Reader #Soulmate AU #fanfiction #my fanfiction #challenge #DC #Batman #Robin #Red Robin #my fan fiction

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aquietwritingcorner · 3 years

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Writers Month Day 13: Night/Flowershop/tattooshop AU Word Count: 4236 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: G/K Characters: Vato Falman, Olivier Mira Armstrong, Major Miles, Captain Buccaneer, Doc, Neil Warning: NA Summary: Vato Falman works at a quiet, little (run-down) flowershop next to a tattoo parlor. He never expected to nor wanted to meet the owners of said tattoo parlor. But typically whatever Falman doesn’t want is exactly what he gets. Notes: Because if this was going to happen to anyone, it would happen to Falman! AO3 || ff.net

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Night/Flowershop/Tattoshop AU

When Vato Falman took the job at North City Flowers, it was with a few understandings. One, he wouldn’t bore the customers with talk of what the flowers mean. Two, he would have to work nights sometimes. Three, he wouldn’t have to interact with the proprietors or customers of the tattoo parlor. Four, this job was in a run-down part of town and awful, so he would be surreptitiously looking for another job in the meantime.

North City Flowers was located in a part of the city (not named North City, ironically enough. Apparently, it had been part of a failed chain of flower shops from North City, and no one had ever bothered to change the name) that was not considered the best part of town. During the day people watched themselves closely. During the night people scurried from place to place as quickly as they could, and only if they had to go out—which few people ever wanted to. In fact, Falman had been certain that he was going to be jumped in the first few weeks of work.

It wouldn’t be too bad, if his boss would just pitch in. His boss was a greasy looking man who clearly didn’t want to be here nights either. Every day before the sun set, he’d make sure Falman was there, take most of the money from the register, and leave. Falman, no matter how much he didn’t want to, was left pretty much every night to finish the day, clean up, and lock up. He didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like he could quit. If he didn’t need this job, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.

Next door to North City Flowers was the Briggs Tattoo Parlor. Falman had never been inside and had no plans to. He had seen the owners, though. A big, strong man who looked like he could crush Vato just by thinking about it; a tall, Ishvalan man, who seemed unreadable; and the beautiful, blonde woman whose glance looked and felt like ice. They were each terrifying on their own, but together they were more so. Sometimes another woman was there, with short hair and glasses, and while she looked friendlier, she didn’t look like someone to cross either. Falman had no idea what to make of the guy with the cigarette and the loud shirts that often came, usually with grease somewhere on him. The clientele wasn’t much better. Most consisted of a lot of men who looked like they were not people to cross—and Falman had no intentions of doing so.

(They didn’t seem to accept just anyone, though. He had watched them kick out a man dressed in a white suit once, in a very rough fight. There had been a lot of shouting, but he had decided that he was probably better off in the back, and so hid there for a bit, supposedly cleaning it up.)

The Briggs Tattoo Parlor seemed to do a lot of work at night. In the evenings, when Falman was cleaning up, he often heard loud thumps coming from the other side of the wall, and yelling. Sometimes there was music as well. Falman had no idea what was going on over there, but he had decided long ago it was in his best interests not to find out.

And so, Falman lived out his workdays like this. Helping customers pick out bouquets that sent the wrong message, staying late at night in the shop, searching for another job, and avoiding the Briggs crew next door.

Until tonight.

The night started out like any other. He helped the customers, his boss took the money, and Falman was left to clean and close up. The days were getting shorter, which meant it got dark quite a bit earlier. Falman always tried to clean up as quickly as he could, figuring that the less time spent here at night the better, but today had been busy, and there was quite a mess in the back room. It took him a few hours to clean it all up, and by the time he did, it was already much later than he wanted it to be.

With a put-upon sigh, Falman gathered up the garbage, tied it up, and headed out the back to throw it away. There was a dumpster in the alley behind this row of shops, and he headed out to it, moving quickly, hoping to not draw any trouble.

This meant, of course, that he did.

He was just past the back of the Briggs Tattoo Parlor when out of nowhere he was grabbed, pushed up against a wall, and a knife pressed to his throat.

“Gimme all your money,” a voice sneered in his ear.

Falman paled. “I-I-I don’t have any!” he stammered out.

“Don’t gimmie that crap,” the man said. “Gimmie your wallet.”

“I don’t—I left it in the shop!” Falman said.

“Yeah? Then let’s go back to the shop and get it and whatever money is there, flower boy.”

Falman paled more. Either this man saw him coming out of the shop, or he had been casing it out for a few days, at least. “Th-there’s nothing there! My boss—he takes the money when he leaves!”

The pressure on Falman increased and the knife pressed harder on his neck. “I think you’re just making excuses,” the man growled. “Guess I gotta show you I’m serious!”

Before Falman could even start to panic to that, the man was suddenly gone, pulled back with a squawk. Falman, startled, turned to look.

The big man from the tattoo shop had Falman’s assailant by the collar, pulling him back and up. “What do we have here?” he asked.

The Ishvalan man stepped up. “It looks like we caught a thief.” His face was impassive, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Falman wondered how he saw with the night this dark.

“I’d say so too,” the big man said, giving the thief a shake. The man tried to protest, but the big man brought him closer. “Bold of him to try on our turf.”

“Perhaps we should take him inside,” the Ishvalan said. “We can let her deal with him.”

Falman saw real fear break out on the thief’s face. “No!” He still had his knife and brought it up quickly. The big man didn’t let go but intercepted it with his other arm. Falman cringed at that, but the man didn’t seem to even notice. He just grinned a feral grin.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he said.

The thief looked thoroughly freaked out, and the Ishvalan took a step closer and jerked the thief’s jacket down, looking at something on his arm. He slid his glasses off to reveal his piercing, hard, red eyes.

“Tell your bosses not to come near Briggs again. This is our territory, and we protect it. Understand?”

The thief nodded, and the big man let him go. The thief scrambled back and away from them, and towards the edge of the alley. The two had already started turning around, when the thief apparently gained one more moment of courage. Falman saw him reach into his belt and pull something out. His eyes widened as he realized it was another knife, and he was about to rush the two men.

“Look out!” Falman called out and, quite without thinking about it, flung the garbage bag full of flower stems and leaves and various other plant-parts that he still somehow had in his hand, right at the thief. The thief saw it coming and ducked, just in time for it to hit a man that was coming up behind him and knock him to the ground mid-stride The thief cursed and scrambled away, leaving the four other men in the alley.

“What the—what was that all about?” The man who had been knocked down was the one with the loud shirts that came to the tattoo parlor. He was sitting up, pushing the bag of trash off of him. “Why did I just get smacked in the face with a garbage bag?”

“Nice save,” the big man said to Falman. “Thanks.”

“Are you alright?” the Ishvlan asked him.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” the man in the loud shirt said. The other two ignored him.

“I…um… yes?” Falman said.

The two men glanced at each other. “Why don’t we get you back inside,” the Ishvalan said. “Buc—”

“Yeah, yeah, I got Neil,” the big man said.

Falman, still quite shaken up, just nodded, and followed the Ishvalan. He only realized that he hadn’t meant the flowershop when he opened up the door to the tattoo parlor. Falman, not sure what else to do, entered nervously.

It was a surprisingly clean and well-organized back room, well-lit and seeming quite pleasant. The Ishvalan man escorted him through it, and into the main room. It was well lit, with several chairs that looked like they could fold down into beds each contained in a small cubicle like area with tools and equipment, and lots and lots of art and examples of tattoos hanging on the wall.

The blonde woman sat in one of the chairs, while talking to the short haired lady that sometimes came by, who was sitting on a couch in the waiting area. Both looked up at the entrance, and both frowned at Falman. He broke out in another sweat.

“What’s this?” the blonde woman said. “Miles?”

“We ran into a little trouble out back,” he said. “Buccaneer’s collecting Neil.”

“Was he hurt?” the short haired woman asked.

The Ishvalan—Miles, apparently—shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He nodded his head at Falman. “He threw a garbage bag and hit Neil in the face and knocked him down.”

The blonde woman raised an eyebrow and looked at him. Falman thought he might pass out. “He did what?” she asked.

Falman parted his lips, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. “I didn’t mean to” and “it was an accident” didn’t seem like they’d be acceptable to this woman.

“Actually,” Miles said. “It was in defense of us.” The woman clearly wanted more, so he continued. “On our way back from getting Neil, we saw this man getting robbed in the back alley. We stepped in and stopped it, and, after a warning message to take back to his bosses, we let him go. He apparently didn’t give up, though, and must have done something. This man yelled a warning at us and threw the bag of garbage he had. The robber ducked, and Neil happened around the corner at the time. It smacked him in the face instead.”

“Kid had a knife,” the big man—Buccaneer, Falman guessed--said, coming in with the man Falman presumed to be Neil. “And was trying to turn back on us. At least, that’s what the shop across the street says.” He looked over at Falman. “He saved us some trouble, it seems.”

“He stabbed you in the arm!” Falman blurted out and was a bit embarrassed that it was the first thing he said.

Both women looked at him alarmed, and the short haired one rose from the couch to hurry over to him, taking his arm—the wrong arm, Falman noted, and wondered why she had picked that one.

“Aw, Doc, you don’t have to worry,” Buccaneer said. “It wasn’t that arm.”

“Wait—your other arm got stabbed? Let me see,” Neil demanded.

“It’s fine. If it can’t hold up to that—” Buccaneer started.

“Let me see anyway,” Neil insisted.

“You had better have him look, just in case,” the blonde woman said.

Buccaneer sighed, but let himself be guided over to a chair, shedding his coat on the way. Falman blinked in surprise when an automail arm was revealed. That certainly explained a lot.

“You,” Falman jumped when the woman addressed him. “Let Doc look over you as well.”

“Oh—no, I’m, um, I’m fine, really, and I, um—”

“Uh-uh,” the other woman, Doc, said, and gently bullied him into a chair. “Let me check you over, free of charge!” she said with a grin.

“Do you usually charge?” Falman asked.

“When I’m at the clinic I do. Gotta make a living somehow. And usually whenever I’m called over here.”

Falman wondered how often that was, but he was distracted by the sound of Miles and the woman talking.

“—had a Drachma tattoo, General.”

“They’re getting bold. We’re going to have to prove it to them again.”

“I know.”

“General?” Falman murmured under his breath.

Doc must have heard him, because she responded. “Yep. That’s what she’s called around here. But that’s because she’s earned it, to be honest.”

Falman wasn’t sure what to make of that, so he said nothing.

The woman—Doc was all he learned of her name—was quick and efficient, and told him that he wouldn’t have anything to worry about, except maybe some residual soreness. He was taken from there back out into the waiting area of the tattoo parlor, where the others had gathered and some sort of drink was being passed around. He felt it would be rude to refuse, so he took a cup and, after he finished it and thanked them for helping him again, he went back to the flower shop to finish locking up. Buccaneer went with him, just in case, and asked Falman some questions about the shop and the flowers while Falman worked. He seemed genuinely interested in learning about the flowers, and Falman gladly shared his information. Not long afterwards, he locked up and headed home, bidding a farewell and thanks to Buccaneer.

The next day Falman said nothing to his boss, and his boss didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. But, on one of his breaks, Falman used what flowers he could to make a bouquet of thanks and delivered it next door. The general was busy with a customer, but Miles took them and put them in a vase where they could be seen.

After that, odd things began happening. There was an uptick in traffic in the flowershop. Men were coming in for various bouquets, usually wanting Falman to fulfill their order. More than once Buccaneer dropped by with some lunch for Falman, or Miles with some coffee. After the General dropped in, they received a few orders from some fairly well-off individuals.

Odd things also were happening with Falman. He usually waved to the Briggs artists, but he somehow often found himself over there at night, hanging out with them after he had locked up. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but it did. He learned that the Briggs Crew—as they called themselves—kept watch over this neighborhood. They weren’t quite a gang in the traditional sense, but they did keep a group called Drachma out of the place. Drachma wasn’t happy about it, but facing down the General wasn’t a good idea, it seemed. Most of the stores and businesses around either knew about this and were grateful, or, as Falman had been, had no idea. The Briggs Crew didn’t care either way. All they wanted to do was keep their area safe.

The crew seemed to consist of the tattoo artists, the doctors and nurses from Doc’s clinic, the mechanic shop across the street, the automail shop next door to the mechanic’s shop, A restaurant called “the cafeteria” that served awful food but somehow stayed in business, an electronics repair shop, a delivery service, a gym that had some pretty intense training, and several individuals who’s places of work weren’t affiliated in any way.

And somehow, for some reason, Falman had been adopted into them. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be, and wasn’t even sure it was a good thing, if he were honest with himself. But they seemed like decent people who just wanted to keep their neighborhood safe, so he went along with it.

It wasn’t until some months later that he had to prove his loyalty.

Falman was on his way home one night when it happened. He was walking down the sidewalk, nearing the edge of the neighborhood when he thought he heard voices. Not wanting to deal with a confrontation, he slowed, and listened in.

“—can’t let her keep bullying us around like this.”

“Yeah. The boss said we’re gonna make a move. Specifically, on her.”

“On the General herself?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s pretty bold. What’s the plan?”

“We cased it out. She usually sends her two right hands home before she goes. That Ishvalan, he heads out sooner, and the bear, he usually sticks around. But about once a month he leaves a little earlier. She’s alone then.”

“Not totally. Someone usually comes by.”.

“Right. That’s why we’re part of the distraction.”

“Distraction?”

“Yeah. All over. It’ll stop anyone from getting there. And that’s when she gets taken out. She’s gone, and then it either all falls apart, or they go crazy and end up getting arrested.”

There were murmurs from the group, and Falman, who had stopped, slowly began to back away. Unfortunately, he was so caught up in what he had just heard that he neglected to see the garbage can behind him and ran into it. It fell with a clatter, and Falman froze, his eyes widening. He could hear the talking stop and then—

“Hey! Who’s there?”

“Ice ‘em!”

Falman bolted.

Falman liked to think of himself as being fairly in shape. He wasn’t going to win any contests or anything, but he could hold his own, generally speaking. But with his slim physique and prematurely gray hair, most people underestimated him, which he was fine with. He didn’t usually set out to impress. However, tonight he wished he were in better shape, and he could only hope that he was underestimated. Shouts followed him, and he was half sure he saw a couple of guns being pulled out. He veered into a side road, heard shots, and knew he was right.

Heart pounding, Falman zigzagged between the streets and alleys, hoping to lose his pursuers. It and out and around he went, until he finally found a hidden area to duck into. He hid there a moment, breathing hard, trying to catch his breath.

He had to tell them. He had to let them know. He had to make sure that the Briggs Crew knew a set up was coming for the General, a plot to kill her.

But… was he brave enough?

He hadn’t meant to be involved in this in the first place. He could just walk away, call the police, let them deal with it. He could have nothing to do with this, just like he should have since the beginning.

But the whole reason the Briggs Crew was a thing was because the police weren’t doing their jobs. The police wouldn’t interfere. And could Falman really walk away knowing about a plot to kill someone and not doing anything about it?

No. No, he couldn’t.

His breathing had calmed, and he was less winded than before. Looking around carefully he slipped out of his hiding place. He had to go back to the tattoo parlor and warn them.

“Hey, Flowerman.”

A voice from behind him spooked Falman, and he whirled around. A man stood there, not far from him, knife in hand and smiling at him. It took Falman a moment to place him as the guy who had tried to mug him a few months back. Falman took a nervous step back.

“Remember me?” the man said. “I think it’s time I got that money from you.”

The man lunged at him, but Falman jumped back, putting himself out of the man’s reach. The man lunged again, and Falman retreated once more. He glanced back behind himself nervously. There was another exit to this alleyway, but it was covered in junk and trash. Still, it might be his only escape. The man lunged again, and Falman backed up once more. Again and again, until Falman was close enough to the trash that was piled up—parts of boxes and crates and full trash bags—that he could feel how unsteady the whole pile was.

Which, actually, gave him an idea.

It was a terrible idea, but it was an idea.

The man lunged again, and Falman had no where to go but forward. He twisted his body so that, hopefully, he could avoid the knife, or at least avoid the worst of it, but he pulled on the stacked garbage as he did, yanking it hard and bringing it crashing down on the man. He wasn’t sure exactly what he felt in his side—could be the knife, could be some debris—but he wasn’t about to let that slow him down. He pulled himself out of the edge of the pile of trash, put a hand to his side, and sped on as fast as he could manage. He ducked in and out of alleyways, doors, and any place he could hide, until he finally was throwing himself against the front door of the tattoo shop. Startled heads whipped up to see him. He was relieved to see that both Miles and Buccaneer were still here, and his relief made his knees week. Miles opened the door, practically catching Falman in his arms.

“Falman?” both the General and Buccaneer were looking at him alarmed. “Buccaneer, go get Doc!” she ordered.

“No!” Falman gasped out. “No, wait! I have to tell you—” He paused as he tried to catch his breath the concern of the three didn’t fade. “I heard… heard a plot… they’re gonna wait for a night when you’re alone, General. Then they’re… they’re going to cause disruptions and keep you alone… and then they’ll kill you. Drachma that is. I heard it!”

He still hadn’t gotten his breath back yet, and his knees felt like they were growing weaker. Was the fading adrenaline affecting him that much?

“Had to tell you…”

“Alright, easy, cub,” Buccaneer said, easing towards him. “You told us. We’ll be prepared. Now let us take care of you.”

“Huh?” Falman looked down, and suddenly realized that it might not be relief that was making him weak at the knees. It might be blood loss. “…Oh.” He suddenly felt very weak and felt himself slipping more towards the floor.

“Buccaneer. Pick him up. We’ve got to get him to Doc now,” The General said. “Miles, after we get him there, start the alert. No one is to go anywhere alone. Be on the lookout. Use our contacts.”

Miles nodded. “Right, General.”

Buccaneer came over and took a hold of Falman, lifting him up. Once he was secured, the four of them set on their way to Doc’s which wasn’t busy this time of night. As they moved, the General looked over at him.

“Thank you,” she said.

Falman didn’t have time to say more before they were heading into Doc’s clinic, and she was taking over, issuing orders and clearing people away. Falman actually wasn’t that sure of how long he was under her care, but Doc fussed at him about how even shallow stab wounds could kill and needed to be treated properly even as she cleaned him up, stitched him up, and laid him back with a unit of blood. She left him resting with the remote to a small TV in the corner. He had spent about thirty minutes in there when the door opened again. Falman looked over at it.

The General walked in a book in her hands and a stern look on her face. Falman looked at her nervously.

“You risked your life for me tonight,” she said without preamble.

“I, uh, I think they were going to kill me either way,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You could have gone to the police.” She pointed out.

Falman shook his head. “They wouldn’t have done anything about it. There’s a reason they’re not here much.”

She nodded, “You’re right. Still, you risked your life tonight for mine—and for all of Briggs. That isn’t something I take lightly.” She put the book on his lap, and Falman had the distinct impression that, if it hadn’t been for Doc, she would have thrown it at him. “You’ve proved yourself,” she said. “When you find one you want, it’s free of charge and by my hand.”

Curious, Falman abandoned the remote and opened the book. It was a sample of dozens of different kinds of bear paw tattoos. He blinked at it, then looked back up at her.

“If I do this, does this mean I’m part of a gang?”

She laughed. “No more or less than a biker gang.” He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not. “Pick one or don’t—it’s of little consequence to me. But just know, you’re in. You’re Briggs.”

With that she turned and walked out of the small room, leaving Falman there with the book. He looked down at it. How had he, a man who worked in a flower shop, ended up involved in all of this?

Well, there was no turning back now.

Grinning to himself, Falman opened the book to pick out his bear paw tattoo.

#writersmonth2021 #Vato Falman #Olivier Mira Armstrong #Major Miles #captain buccaneer #Briggs doc #Neil (Briggs)#fma #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma fanfic #fullmetal alchemist fan fiction

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