#they tried to talk to the new vigilante many times and were ignored | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solar-wing · 9 months

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⚣ Sassy Man Jason 👏🏻

⚣👏🏻 A/N → This is not a repost, this is a new original. Once again, another idea that came to me while I was in the middle of writing out one of my Conner fics and finishing my revisions to the third installment of Primal. I saw this on TikTok about the sassy men apocalypse and the first thing that came to mind was our favorite needy soft boi anti-hero.

⚣👏🏻 Summary → You didn't know why, but Jason had been giving you an attitude all day. Rolling his eyes, giving, you stank looks, and treating you like a cold piece of pie. What did you even do? And when did he get this freaking sassy?

⚣👏🏻 Words → 1.7k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 👏🏻

“Jason, what is wrong with you?”

For what reason you couldn’t figure out, your boyfriend Jason Todd had an attitude since he walked through your apartment door. All day you kept receiving side-eyes, stank looks, and silent treatments anytime you tried to talk to or touch him.

Which, for your boyfriend, meant something had to seriously be wrong.

Even if he was weary of physical contact, he always sought out your comforting touch no matter what. Outside of his family (who were basically only one step above random strangers), you were the only one Jason allowed free reign to hug, hold, caress, and more.

Of course, he also preferred you being the same way and not allowing other people to touch you except for him, but that was a different story for another day.

But, today seemed to be different as Jason was almost treating you like his brothers. Not in the exact same way as he didn’t want to be bothered with you or avoided you. Moreso like he’d snuff your appearance or roll his eyes when you said something.

You were both currently on your bed in your room snuggled under one of your many blankets. You had a show you and Jason were currently binging on while snacking on some popcorn.

Usually, whenever you two would sit down to watch TV, read, play games, or even just enjoy each other’s presence, he’d pull you into his large embrace, secretly enjoying how you warmed his body up. And the stronger man would keep that hold on you the entire time, even if you tried to get up to go to the bathroom or grab some more food.

None of that happened. Jason sat his entire body on the other side of your queen-sized mattress, with the blanket wrapped around him.

It was actually a little funny seeing his large body laid down on your bed, as he had to make sure he didn’t tip himself over too far with his body weight and fall off the edge.

He even kept snatching the blanket from you every time you tried to snuggle under a little more. You had to buy all bigger-sized blankets to be able to cover both you and him since the ones you had before definitely were not up to the job. They sometimes barely managed to cover you.

So, imagine your annoyance when every time you move to adjust the blanket, it got snatched out of your hand. And the culprit behind it was lying next to you while giving you the world’s worst stank-eye like you did something to him before tucking more of the soft material under his neck, looking like a furry soft plushy with only his head sticking out the opening.

When you tried to get him to give you some of the blanket, he turned away from you, while still giving you more side-eye. That’s when you had asked what was wrong with you, while he just looked back at you, before turning his head back around and opening up his phone if the sound of him opening social media was any indicator.

It was official, your boyfriend was acting like the world’s biggest freaking toddler. And you still had no idea what brought on this treatment.

You looked over at the man, his blanket-covered broad back greeting you in return. Scooching over, you tried to hug him from behind, thinking maybe that would help but he only shook your body off before scooting himself closer to the edge.

“Are you kidding me?” You asked the vigilante, who only continued to ignore you while scrolling on his phone.

Now, it was your turn to roll your eyes as you basically sat in the middle of the bed with a boyfriend who apparently wanted nothing to do with you.

“Why are you acting mad at me? What did I do?” You continue to ask, starting to feel upset at how he was treating you.

When you were still met with silence, you huffed out a breath before going to move off the bed, “Whatever bro,” You muttered before grabbing your phone and stomping out to your living room.

Plopping yourself down on the couch, you unlocked your phone and opened your Messages app, deciding if your boyfriend wouldn’t tell you what was wrong, maybe someone else could help give you an idea.

The sounds of tapping on your phone filled the quiet space outside of the muffle from your TV in the bedroom as you typed a message to Dick, figuring he could help you figure out why Jason was so upset with you.

You: hey Dick?

Dick: hey Y/N! What’s up?

You: did something happen last night? is everything okay?

Dick: um no, at least not that I know of. Why, what’s wrong?

You: idk. Jason has just been acting weird all day since he got to my place. he barely looks at me without rolling his eyes, he won’t let me touch him or even near him for that matter, and he keeps giving me this childish attitude whenever I try to talk to him.

Dick: lol

You: lol?! why are you loling me? you think this is funny?!

Dick: quite actually. I think I know what’s wrong though. Last night when we were out on patrol, Jason was acting the same way. Apparently, he kept trying to call you since according to him, he’d rather listen to your snoring than our annoying voices over the comms but you weren’t answering.

You: OMG I was studying for a final and I told him I was leaving my phone on Do Not Disturb so I could concentrate.

Dick: you didn’t put him as an exception?

You: … you can do that?

Dick: yes. you can. how did you not know that?

You: IDK! shut up!

Dick: lol

While you were typing out another response to the annoying Nightwing vigilante, you heard the sounds of heavy footsteps making their way from your bedroom to the living room.

You looked up to see your mammoth-sized boyfriend still wrapped in your blanket to where you could only see his face and hair sticking out from the top and his feet poking from under. The stank look on his face was still there even as he walked forward to stand in front of you.

There was a creeping urge to laugh that you tried to resist while staring at your big, scary, and sometimes morally questionable vigilante boyfriend wrapped in a large fluffy red and white blanket with his bed-head curls lying over his forehead while staring at you like an angry child who was told no to getting a cookie from the jar before dinner.

“Are you finally ready to talk to me?”

He didn’t say anything before he just leaned down, opening the blanket so he could pick you up in his arms before walking back to your room and jumping on the bed with his body on top of you. Your breath had been knocked out of you from your impact on the mattress along with Jason’s heavy weight on top of you.

“Ugh, seriously Jay. You’ve got too much muscle on you to be jumping on top of me like that.” You groaned.

You heard an indignant huff from him as he looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “Are you calling me fat?” He finally spoke with his gruff voice.

It was once again your turn to roll your eyes, “Oh, don’t you start with me,” You replied before using your fingers to flick his forehead, his eyes narrowing at you in response.

“Are you seriously mad at me because I didn’t answer your calls last night? I told you I was studying for a final.” You said while now using the same hand to rub your hand through his hair.

“Why is my number not on the exception list on your Do Not Disturb in your phone?” He countered, completely ignoring your question.

“Oh my god, I didn’t even know you could do that. My parents aren’t even on that list.”

“Ok, and?” He said, shaking his head at you like that was supposed to mean something.

“When did you get so freaking sassy?”

“Give me your phone,” Jason ordered, not even waiting for you to move before he grabbed your phone out of your other hand. It was hard for you to move with his body still on top of you, plus his weight and body heat added with the warmth from the blanket tired you faster the more you wiggle around.

He placed the phone in front of your face to unlock it before going to your settings, “Why were you texting Dickface?” He asked.

“Because you wouldn’t tell me what was wrong with you so I asked him.” He just let out a gruff hum before opening the Do Not Disturb section in your settings, going to the panel you’d never seen before where you could add contacts in the phone’s feature so they could still call you or text you without being sent to voicemail or silence.

You watched as Jason added his contact in there, before also adding your parents.

“Seriously, you added my dads?”

“Yep. It’ll score me more brownie points at the next family dinner at your place.” He said with a sneaky smile, before putting your phone down and placing his chin on your chest to stare at you.

“Are you happy now?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not yet. Promise me you’ll always answer my calls and texts. I don’t care if you’re studying, in the shower, or sleeping. It helps me feel better knowing you’re okay.” Jason said, holding his pinky out for a promise.

“Who died and made you boss?” You joked before yelping out in pain when Jason pinched the side of your butt.

“Ow! Fine, I promise.” You agreed, closing your pinky around his to which he smiled before patting the stinging area of your skin he just pinched.

“Good boy.”

“Alright. Are you done having an attitude now?” You inquired, wanting to go back to cuddling and watching your show.

“Almost. Gimme food and I’ll think about it.” He ordered, before laying his head down on your chest.

Your lips pulled up into an annoyed, but playful smile as you grabbed your phone to call your and Jason’s favorite pizza place, “When did you get so freaking sassy?”

“Always have been, babe.”

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

1K notes · View notes

satuguro · 1 year

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*ೃ࿐TO FAULT A NET

[ ACT III: CURIOSITY AND THE CAT ]

spider-man! ethan landry x black cat! reader

#SYNOPSIS— having one (1) friend is making you a bit too soft to your liking, your dad is dead and you make too many jokes about it, and you need a new suture kit.

#CONTAINS— enemies to lovers, slowburn, antihero&vigilante reader, familial issues, implication of ptsd, gore, blood, murder, death, sexual/suggestive content (in other parts), reader is overly flirtatious

#AUTHORSNOTE— tumblr pls let me write on my phone and still be able to see the words i type thank you xx

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, EPILOGUE

the doors to the police department flew open, nearly hitting some people who were exiting. ethan, eyes heavy with bags and hair tousled from being stuck in the mask all night, pushed past people who were waiting dutifully in front of the receptionists' desk, ignoring their protests and harsh exclaims.

the policeman sitting behind the desk didn't even seem fazed, only looking up at ethan boredly as he drawled, "sir, you're supposed to wait in line—"

"where's detective bailey?" ethan asked, eyes cold as he raised his head to peer deeper into the department. when no response was given quickly, he slammed his fist into the table. "where is he?!"

"ethan!" his head snapped towards his father's voice, his eyes welling in tears as he tried (and failed) to keep himself together. but seeing his father with no evident emotion on his face besides his red eyes, completely unlike how he was when richie died, ethan couldn't do it.

he walked up to his father, trying to push past him to make his way deeper into the department. "take me to where i can see her," he sniffed, shoving his father's hands away as he tried to stop him. "dad, i need to see her," he begged, shoving his father, hard, away from him. so hard, that he nearly was knocked off his feet, his face dropping at the sudden strength his youngest child exhibited.

but ethan was too focused on trying to find out where his sister's body was being kept to care.

two policemen came between him and the hallway deeper into the department, their hands hovering over their guns while another policeman grabbed ethan's arm, urging him to leave. he was crying now, just a mess of tears and healing bruises in the police department, but they didn't care.

"she's evidence, ethan. and they took me off the case—"

"she's my sister," he seethed, tears freely flowing down his face as he looked at his father in disbelief. nothing. ethan saw nothing in his face. "don't call her evidence. i need to see her," his voice cracked as he shoved himself away from the other policeman, reaching for his dad like he always did as a child. reaching for some reaction, something, anything, even the bare minimum, only to be shoved away and ignored. and this was no different, because even as he grabbed his arm and begged him to let him see his sister, to let him talk to her, to let him say goodbye, there was nothing.

"dad," ethan cried, reaching for his hand, only for him to move it away quickly. "dad, say something. please," he sniffed harshly, "i wasn't there—"

"and why weren't you?" the detective snapped, and ethan's face fell. "why weren't you there, ethan? what was so important that you weren't there?" his words became more accusatory by the second, and it suddenly felt like he was a child again, being yelled at for something that wasn't entirely his fault. "tell me!"

"i," ethan tried to force out, but the lump in his throat was too large. why wasn't he there? why didn't he make it on time? his dad was right. he had all the power in the world to be there in time, and yet he wasn't. "dad, please," he whispered, but his father was already walking away from him.

"you'll see her soon. but not now." he couldn't even look at him as he walked away, leaving his youngest standing alone in a waiting room full of people, tears dripping onto the tile.

"ethan?"

his head turned to the entrance, finding tara, sam, and chad all standing at the doorway. he couldn't even say a single word out, tears welling up in his eyes again as he tried to force out a sentence, a word, anything, but to no avail.

without another word, tara walked up to him and pulled him into a hug. ethan couldn't even bring himself to sob, only allowing the tears to fall freely as he felt the others' arms wrap around him. since then, he didn't utter a word. usually he had a hard time not speaking, but there was so much circling his head that he felt like he could say anything. he didn't have the energy to, so he sat in silence in the waiting room, waiting for the others to be done with their accounts.

tara was the first to come back. she seemed as shaken up as he was, her shaking hands shoved in her pockets as she walked to stand in front of ethan. she didn't say anything at first, as though she had been pondering her words before she spoke. "my friend drove us here. figured it'd be safer, even though the others don't really trust her."

ethan didn't look up, his eyes dead set on his lap. his hands were moving over each other, one over the other as though he was massaging them angrily. the massaging turned to picking at his hangnails for a moment, before returning to massaging. he was anxious; too many emotions and too much happening all at once.

it was a habit that had been going on for a long time, even when he was a kid. he was an anxious child; bullied for speaking too much and made fun of for being dorky, completely unlike his brother who was charming enough that people had actually liked him. but with his new powers that heightened his senses.. ethan found that when he was anxious, everything felt like overload. it all felt like too much.

"i need air," he murmured, standing up abruptly and moving past tara, ignoring her protests of, 'but it isn't safe!'

the cold night air hit his face, bringing a chill throughout his body that he would've found uncomfortable if he wasn't so desperate to be outside. ethan breathed in the air and let it freshen up his insides, trying to focus on the feeling of air expanding his lungs rather than the fact that his father blamed him for his sister's death.

the hairs on his neck stood up, making him immediately clench his fists and look around, walking a thin line between anger and fear as he looked for what had set off his senses in such a way.

you had been leaning against the side of the police department, obviously out of your element and only mildly perturbed by it. you didn't expect to settle into bed and have tara call you moments later, talking about the attack you had been in as well and how she'd rather get a ride from you rather than take the subway or walk. her reasoning made sense, but you didn't understand why she called you all of people. but sleep had been getting harder for you as the days passed, so you reluctantly agreed to bring her and her friend group to the department.

so you tried to seem as though you weren't uncomfortable loitering around the one place you had been avoiding for the majority of your life. but as you stared at the brunette who had been panicking not even a minute before he had seen you, you realized that maybe things weren't as bad for you as it was for him.

his eyes were red and his hands were repeatedly clenching and unclenching at his sides tightly. so tight, that you could see his knuckles pale despite the lack of light. he was looking at you, you realized, his huge puppy dog eyes glassy with tears and his brows furrowed as he raised a hand and quickly wiped away his tears.

you didn't say a word (you didn't even know him, what could have you said?), choosing to only tilt your head as you peered at his face.

he felt like you were studying him. taking in his features like a painting you'd stare at in a museum, studying the red of his eyes and the drip of his tears, the light dapple of freckles that had been fading due to the oncoming winter. he found himself swallowing down his need to cry so that he could force out a small, "what?" that sounded a lot less intimidating than he wanted it to sound.

"nothing," you said, and he was surprised to hear that your voice was so smooth. you were still looking at him though, probably coming up with your own judgement of him just by looking at his messed up state. you weren't, though— you were just trying to figure out whether you should show some simple human concern for once in your life.

but was some stranger worth it? in any other circumstance, the answer would’ve been simple, but there was something so familiar about the boy that it was

"you have a staring problem," ethan said defensively, facing away from you as he stared into the street.

"better than whatever's going on with you right now." the words fell from your mouth before you could stop them, the brutal honesty in that sentence taking even you aback by them. but they were out now, and you weren't the type to apologize for stuff you said.

you weren't the type. but as you stared holes into the back of his head, having a moral battle over some dude, you found yourself saying a quick, "sorry," that made you feel like you were suddenly naked out in the streets of new york.

“it’s fine. you’re probably right, anyways.” he sniffled, wiping the last bit of tears from his eyes. “i bet you’re having a hell of a better time than i am.”

you took in his words as you shoved yourself off the side of the building, walking ahead of you so that you stood horizontally from him. there was a distance between you both as you stood there, staring at the street. the silence wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but the tension was making the air thick; the both of you were waiting for one of you to talk.

"my.. friend got attacked." this time you could feel his eyes on you, boring holes into your side profile as you avoided his gaze. "i had to pick her and her friends up. so, yeah, you're right," you sighed, and your breath came out in white steam, "my situation is probably better. doesn't mean i'm having a good time, though."

“there you are.”

you shut your mouth again at the sound of chad’s voice, turning to the others as they came exiting the station. you watched as chad looked at ethan concernedly, your eyebrows raising when you realized; he was one of tara's friends. that's why he looked so familiar.

you had never stayed around to see them for more than a few seconds. they were tara;s friends, not yours, and to simply linger as thy approached her after her singular lecture with you was far too weird for you. so you often kept your distance, choosing to walk away before she had the chance to introduce you, turning your back before they could ask you what your name was. having one person you considered a friend was dangerous enough in your line of work.

"you already met y/n," sam said to him, looking towards you with a tight lipped smile. "tara called her to drive us after—"

"after the attack, yeah," he was still looking at you with those doe eyes of his, taking in your seemingly nonchalant front. he wasn't blind to the feeling of familiarity he got when he saw you, but knowing now that you were one of tara's friends made sense. you were the girl they always saw walking out of psych lecture with her. "i'm ethan," he said, forcing a toothless smile.

"y/n." you nodded at him in acknowledgement before turning to the rest of the group. "where am i taking you guys?" you asked, starting to walk to your car, which was parked down the street.

"blackmore dorms," chad said, making you nod. "since the apartment is a no-go.. they can probably sleep in our dorm for a little bit, if that's okay," he glanced at ethan, who only nodded. "i'll bunk with ethan tonight, you two can sleep in my room," he said to tara and sam, who only nodded. both of them looked too beat up to even try and protest.

you walked up to your car— a black porsche carrera that your father had stolen before you were even born —unlocking it wordlessly.

"this is your car?" ethan couldn't help but ask, eyebrows raising at the sight of it. it was practically new despite its age, and the fact that you were a college student who casually owned a porsche was beyond him.

"that's what i said," chad said with a small chuckle, "what do your parents do again, y/n?"

"my dad's rotting dead 6 feet below," you responded dryly, unlocking the car for the rest of them and not even bothering to look at their reactions. when no laughs followed except for tara's amused snort, (tough crowd, you assumed), you peered at them with a cocked brow. "well? are we leaving?"

"right," chad mumbled, climbing into the backseat next to tara and sam while ethan took the passenger seat.

the ride to blackmore was quiet, the most of you far too focused on just getting home and sleeping. ethan's head rested on the window of your car, his eyes fluttering closed every once in a while as he struggled to stay awake. he was exhausted, having barely slept a wink between patrolling, school, and fighting off serial killers. his mind was far too focused on getting revenge on whoever killed his sister, but as he listened to the smooth hum of the car and the soft music that played through your radio, he found himself drifting off.

"did you talk to him for a little?" sam asked you from the backseat, and you nodded, your eyes still set on the road.

"yeah. granted, i didn't do much comforting. it's not really my forte, i guess." you sighed. "he seemed like in pretty bad shape."

"it was his sister," tara said softly, looking at ethan's sleeping face with empathy. "quinn. she didn't make it."

the rest of the ride was in silence.

he was jolted awake when his senses went off, sending that jolt of energy through his body and forcing his hand to grab your wrist before it could touch him. it looked like you were just trying to shake him awake, but as his hand wrapped around his wrist, you tore your hand away (with surprising strength) from his grasp.

"shit," you breathed, sending him a look as you tried to process what just happened. "your reflexes are crazy."

"sorry," ethan breathed, eyes traveling down to where your hands were, your other hand massaging your wrist as you stared at him. "i didn't bruise you, did i?"

"not in the way that i usually like," you grumbled, making a dusting of red appear over his cheeks. "it's fine, really. you're on edge."

"still," he mumbled, warily looking at your wrist. there wasn't a bruise forming, thankfully, but ethan often times found himself cautious of his own strength. he didn't want to accidentally hurt you just because he was anxious. "'m sorry anyways."

"it's okay. really."

a beat. "where did the others go?"

"they went ahead. tara 'n sam were tired so chad offered to bring them to your dorm while i woke you up." you shrugged, reclining your seat a bit as you unbuckled your seatbelt. your eyes drifted towards ethan, who was still sitting with his seatbelt, eyes staring holes into his lap. he seemed so far away, almost unreachable. "you don't have to go now," you found yourself saying, "take your time."

jesus, what was happening to you? first you get out of bed for a friend, now you found yourself telling some stranger to take their time with getting out of your car. you were losing minutes of sleep— you could be with your cats, and yet you were sitting in silence next to a boy you only knew the name of. the silence that should've felt uncomfortable simply.. didn't. the silence was comfortable; just two strangers sitting quietly alone in a car.

"okay," he glanced at you with a forced smile. "let's go."

you locked your car behind you as you walked next to ethan, digging your hands into the pockets of your pajamas. he seemed to be more tired than distressed as he trudged next to you, arms crossed over his chest. the night was cold and far more eerie; being attacked in the past hours would do that to you.

"do you live on campus?" ethan asked. he usually hated small talk, as he was one to never shut up to other people unless they were complete strangers. but he was silently thankful that you had been patient with him through the night, even letting him have a bit of time before he exited the car. he wasn't sure why he wanted to ask you questions.

maybe he was curious about you. maybe he wanted to know you.

"no," you replied smoothly, eyes set on the pavement ahead of you. "i have my own place."

"rich family?"

"yeah, their life insurance money was great," you lied in a monotone voice, eyebrows raising in surprise when you heard him stifle a chuckle. "i'm guessing you feeling a little better than before."

"arguably worse, actually," ethan said matter-of-factly, making you hum in response. "i think i'm just too tired to fully feel everything, y'know?"

"makes sense," you said, walking up to the entrance door and opening it with your card. "that's why we gotta get you into your dorm."

"but what about you?" you raised a brow at him as you shut the door behind you. ethan's brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of what he just said, having just blurted it out without another thought. "who'll bring you home?"

you blinked. "my car?" you couldn't decipher that look on his face, as though he was mentally turning over a plan around and around. for someone who seemed to always have something to say, he was suddenly rendered quiet. "are you worried about me?" your tone was teasing, but you were genuinely serious as you asked.

"i'm jus' worried about your safety, that's all!" his eyes widened in slight fear when your arms crossed over your chest, your eyes becoming more unsure by the second. "i mean, you can probably handle it on your own—"

"i can handle it on my own."

"but it's a murderer!" ethan exclaimed as he began to lead you to his dorm room. "you live alone, and no one watches over you— this sounds really bad and i'm sorry —but i don't know if you've watched horror movies, but that's basically how every single one starts!" a pause. "not that i'm saying you can't handle your own or anything!"

"may i remind you that you don't actually know me. we aren't friends." you said dryly, but even that didn't change his mind. you came to the conclusion then that he was far too stubborn for his own good. anxiety filled, almost too talkative, and closed off emotionally, but he was stubborn.

"that doesn't matter," ethan said with a shake of his head. he stopped in front of his dorm room door, looking at you with a worry ridden face. "do you," he swallowed thickly, "want to come in?"

"you already know the answer to that, eth."

"i know, but—" he looked at the warning look you had on your face. “fine. it was worth a shot." he stepped into his doorway, turning around to take the door. "good night, y/n."

"good night, ethan."

".. i went through their financial records dozens of times and this was not in any of them, it doesn't make sense," agent kirby grumbled, looking up warily at the fire escapes that hung over head. the alleyway was tucked away pretty well— you had only used it a few times when getting away, primarily because most of the police didn't even know the theatre nearby it existed.

"maybe you're just not that good at your job," you said under your breath.

"who brought little miss sunshine along?" kirby asked, sending you a warning look. you only gave her a sarcastic smile in response.

"i did," tara said as she walked next to sam. "she helped us last night."

that was an understatement. you consciously rubbed the bandage on your neck, which you had hidden under your jacket. you didn't want them thinking that you had gotten it because you had attacked them.

you had woken up to a text from tara asking if you wanted to come along and investigate. she was under the assumption that you wanted nothing to do with any of the murders, but you saw her invitation as an in. it'd allow you to be able to investigate from the inside, and truthfully, your curiosity was getting the best of you. you wanted to know who was behind everything.

“i told you that you didn’t have to come,” tara said pointedly, but you only shrugged in response, peering up at the spray painted killer on the brick wall.

“what else am i supposed to do nowadays?” you sighed, "helping you avoid murder feels just like another friday at this point." tara scoffed at your words, which made a downward smile appear on your face.

gale swiped her card down at the entrance way and opened it, allowing everyone to pile in. it was pitch black inside, lest and you found yourself gripping your bag tighter to your body, suddenly aware of the knife that was hidden inside of it.

if any one from the group saw it, they'd surely think that you were the murderer. if only they knew that you just liked being prepared.

"what is this place?" kirby asked, hand hovering over her gun as she looked around the dimly lit area.

"a movie theatre," you murmured, walking away from the group to explore further, until gale turned on the energy.

"how'd you know that?" mindy asked you cautiously, eyes furrowed as she looked you. of the entire group, she was the most distrustful of you (for good reason, honestly).

"new york born and raised," you responded with a shrug, "besides; my dad showed me once."

mindy clicked her tongue. "that's only mildly suspicious."

"can't even deny that," you muttered.

"but this place isn't just a movie theatre." gale weathers (who you had only ever seen from afar, as she was usually the one reporting all your burglaries) nodded over to the official entrance to the theatre, where some gears were turning as a run-down curtain was raised. "it's also a shrine."

you swallowed thickly as you entered, eyes widening at the sheer amount of all the souvenirs inside the rundown place. what once used to be a beautiful theatre was replaced by mannequins of outfits worn during the stab killings and glass cases full of what police would call evidence. knives of different variety, all still bloodied by their last victims, were posed proudly within the glass cases right next to sketches showing how they were used. drawings upon drawings of the survivors and legacy characters of the stab franchise was beside almost every item, and based off of the style, they were all from one person.

"they've got the whole god damn franchise," mindy said in shock, peering into one of the glass cases. her face fell when she saw the shirt on display, calling out, "chad," over her shoulder. as her twin walked up to her, she looked back at the black shirt. "this is uncle randy's," she breathed. "they've got everything."

you looked into one of the glass cases full of drawings of the original killers and original victims. they were all drawn with a meticulous hand; the artist was obsessed with them enough to be able to draw them repeatedly over and over. they studied their faces, from how they looked like when they were terrified all the way until their last breath.

"the same artist," you breathed, unaware that ethan had walked up next to you and looked into the same case.

"just one person." he seemed to be in deep thought, his brows furrowed as he stared at the artwork. "do you think one person's behind this?"

"god, no," you shook your head, "but i do think one person is more obsessed than the other. or at least, someone was." you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, watching as his tongue poked at his cheek as he read all the pieces of art.

you saw spider-man doing that once. you shook the thought out of your head as you focused your attention back on the evidence; you were sure that the masked hero would love to hear about this.

but as you stood next to the boy who was studying the artwork intently, a question popped into your head.

"so why are you here?" you asked him casually, crossing your arms over your chest. he turned to you, raising a brow at your sudden question.

ethan walked closer to you, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you suspiciously. "i could ask you the same thing."

"actually, tara—"

"it was so that we could keep an eye on you," chad interrupted, making the both of you snap your heads towards him. he managed a thin lipped smile, putting an arm onto one of the cases. "both of you."

mindy pointed two eyes at her eyes before pointing them at the both of you, her face nothing short of serious. if you weren't being suspected, you would've laughed.

"the killer must've found this place before he murdered jason and greg," gale explained, "and then he.. took the masks off the mannequins. all nine, from stuart and billie to amber and richie."

ethan swallowed thickly at the sound of his brother's name, turning away from the others as he tried to focus on something else. he could feel his father's eyes burn into the back of his skull. how convenient was it that he (and later, his family) moved to an entirely new state just to forget about his brother, only for it to bite him in the ass once he got here. he barely talked about his relation to his father to the others, much less the fact that they were all related to the killer who tried to kill them only a year prior. quinn and his father wanted to move on from richie too. at least, that was what they had told ethan.

"so somebody killed these chuckle fucks and took over?" chad asked, making you roll your eyes at the words he used.

"someone who believes that sam masterminded woodsboro," gal said with a nod.

"if this were a normal stab movie," mindy began, looking at all the cloaks that were left with no mask, "this would be the killer's lair."

"which means that this isn't a normal stab movie," you said with a sigh, "great."

tara's face was unreadable as she stared at the cloak labeled 'billy.' shaking her head, she turned around and left the theater without another word, sam following close behind her.

you sat alone at the edge of the stage, tapping your fingers on the wood as you let everyone figure out what the next move was. the sound of heavy footsteps made you look up, eyes narrowing when you saw detective bailey not too far from you, turning his head away from your vicinity. you couldn't tell whether he was staring at you or not, but there was an unsettling feeling in your chest that gave you enough of an answer.

you couldn't trust anyone.

they had dropped you off before they went on to their new plan. you claimed you had a lecture; and you technically did, but you never went to your lectures most of the time.

you gave them a fake address before walking home yourself. you didn't trust any of them— to casually give them your address was like a death wish. you knew better.

the black mask fit comfortably over your face as you pulled it over. while the others had their own plan, you had your own; you'd do some patrolling (jesus, who were you, spider-man?) and watch over them from afar. you were shoving a gun into your side before you heard someone knock on your bedroom window. immediately, you took out your gun and pointed it at the glass.

it was him. dressed in his suit as per usual, looking at you upside down. his mask was on half of his face, and he managed a toothy smile that made you roll your eyes in annoyance. shoving your gun back into your side pocket, you walked over to open the window for the hero.

"what did i say about friendly visits, spider?" you asked skeptically, moving back to your desk to get your items in place. his feet hit your hardwood floor gently as he swung into your home, shutting the window behind him.

"this isn't technically a visit," he said with a shrug, coming up next to you. he watched you put on your gloves with interest. "a little birdy told me that the stab survivors needed our help."

"and which little birdy is that?" you asked, not even looking up at him. you were too busy making sure every claw was working well, but you could feel him standing next to you. his back was to the edge of the table as he placed his weight comfortably on it. his hands were holding the edge of it as he talked freely with his mask pulled up half way.

"i just used my radio and asked them politely—"

".. you asked the police if you could help?"

"i asked detective kirby if i could help," he corrected, obviously exasperated by your surprise. "i needed an in, so i asked and she told me to be on standby. we'll just be listening to them on this," he pulled out a burner phone, setting it down on your table, "and they'll tell us where some action is happening."

"some action," you scoffed at his words, "that's one way to put it."

"how else am i supposed to put it? anyways, i decided to come here and politely invite you to join me, kitty." spider-man said with a tight-lipped smile. but as his eyes looked you up and down, realizing you were already fully ready, his smile faltered. "did you have your own plan?" he asked you curiously.

"i did." you said pointedly, unsheathing your claws before retracting them again. "i wanted to watch over them. lawfully stalk them to make sure they're still breathing or whatever." there was an odd silence that hung in the air as you worked diligently on your claws. "you seem to be in a better mood than yesterday," you commented, glancing at him from your peripherals before focusing back on your weapons. "are you really feeling that way, spider?"

spider-man cleared his throat at that. truthfully, ethan was masking everything again. he wanted to feel like himself, to be able to freely joke and banter with others how he used to, but everything seemed so forced now. all he felt, all he really felt was anger. he wanted to get revenge, and for once in his life, he was willing to stoop as low as richie and kill for what he believed in.

he hated that you saw right through his act. it was as though you had ignored every forced smile he flashed, ignored how he was desperately trying to feel like himself again, and ignored his light hearted facade.

you knew he was lying to you.

ethan stayed quiet. you knew what that silence meant.

"thought so," you murmured. you looked down at the burner phone, the black screen reflecting your own face back to you. "can i ask how you knew her?" you asked him, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"who?"

"quinn." you looked up at him. "there was only one person killed in that attack. quinn bailey, the detective's daughter." his jaw clenched when he heard her name come out of your mouth, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

"just a friend i knew," ethan said, the lie coming out like a taboo secret. to refer to his own sister as just a friend pained him. "i was close to her. incredibly close to her and i wasn't there in time to save her. i couldn't get there in time." he seemed to be millions of miles away as he talked, his eyes set on the floor.

you stayed silent for once, letting the silence surround the both of you. he didn't continue, seemingly too deep in his head to say more about the subject, and you understood that. you knew how that felt, to be physically in one place and mentally somewhere else. "if you're blaming yourself, you're a lot stupider than i thought. none of it is your fault."

you were so nonchalant, as though your words were factual. you never truly lied unless it was for your own gain, and that alone made you distrustful, but as you casually stated his innocence in the whole scheme of things, ethan found himself looking at you with hopeful eyes. he believed you, and whether that was dangerous of not, he wasn't sure.

"don't even say anything, it'll ruin the moment," you added dryly, sending him a warning look.

the burner phone began to ring, making the hero immediately click answer (crazy reflexes). kirby's panicked voice rang through the speaker. "gale weathers' house! upper west side—"

"west 96th," you interrupted, already opening the window.

spider-man blinked as he quickly hung up, already crawling out the window. he pulled his mask over the rest of his face. "how did you know that?" he offered a hand out to you,

"i was thinking of stealing her shit before all this," you grumbled, taking his hand. he pulled you close to him, his hand finding your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck.

"typical." he shot another web up, and you tried not to scream as you were suddenly brought up into the sky, the wind whipping in your face as he began to make his way to the upper west side.

the sun had set significantly by the time you made it, your leg coming up to kick through one of the bedroom windows. spider-man came in right after you, barely making a sound as he listened for any sounds. it was so quiet. even as you stepped towards the ajar door of the bedroom, not a single sound was heard.

you crept out into the hallway, hand grabbing your gun and raising it. spiderman crawled above you as you walked slowly down the hallway, catching a glimpse of blue as you did. looking up at the hero, you nodded in the direction of where you had seen it. he nodded in response, crawling ahead quietly.

gale had seen him as he crawled up the side of her wall, his finger coming up to his mask in a 'shh' motion. she nodded, the phone still up against her ear as she spoke, "the brains and the sex appeal," she responded, turning around to try and find the killer. but all she saw was her dead boyfriend on the ground of her living room, the killer nowhere to be seen. but then she saw you, gun in hand as you pointed it around you, your eyes looking into her's and practically begging her to not say a word.

you heard the muffled talking of the killer through the phone, your gun pointed opposite of where gale had her's pointed.

"can you hold, please?" gale asked, and you raised your eyebrows, turning to her in shock. but she quickly redialed the number, making a loud ringing sound appear from the closet.

you shot it. once. twice. five times, walking closer with each step.

ethan felt that familiar chill run through his body, his eyes widening as he yelled, "watch out!"

the doors flew open as ghostface jumped through, their knife nearly piercing your shoulder as they did. you jumped back before they could reach you, shooting your gun at them and groaning when it didn't stop them. "gale, get back!" you yelled over your shoulder, watching as spider-man swung down to kick them away from you.

ghostface quickly got up as spider-man shot his webs at them, their dodges quick as they tried to lunge at him with their knife.

but as they raised it up to throw it at the hero, you shot their arm, making them groan in pain and let go of their weapon. they fell to the ground, spider-man shooting yet another web at them to stick their feet to the floor.

he was so close to getting him. he was only feet away, walking closer as he did, his hands curling into fists as anger coursed through his veins. they were stuck. they had no way of leaving, no way of escaping.

"remove his mask," you told him, the curiosity almost too much as you kept your gun pointed at him. gale stood behind you, her eyes wary as she watched the hero walk closer. "spider, remove his mask—"

he threw a punch at the killer. the mask didn't fall off, but the groan of pain he heard was enough that he wanted to keep going. ethan kicked their stomach, his anger growing at the lack of response as he kicked it again. and again.

they killed his sister.

another kick.

they slit her throat. they stabbed her and twisted the knife into her chest. they took away the person that cared for him when his dad didn't, who paid attention to him when all his father really cared about was richie. the one family member who truly loved him and cared for him like any older sister would. they killed her.

and ethan didn't even get to say goodbye.

he could feel tears burning his eyes as he grabbed them by the collar, raising them as much as he could with their foot stuck against the floor. he punched them hard, and that's when he felt it. his nerves going crazy, electrifying his body, and before he knew it, all he felt was pain.

his hand went to the hilt of the knife they had stabbed into him. right into the lower left of his torso, and your gun rang as you shot the killer in the chest. they pulled the knife out with them as they collapsed on the floor.

and as he stumbled to the ground, you caught him. "spider? oh fuck," your breaths were heavy as you immediately applied pressure to his wound, eyes wide as you tried to stop the bleeding. your heart was pounding harder and faster in your chest. he was bleeding so much, the crimson pooling into the palms of your hands as you applied as much pressure as you could.

gale rushed forward, her hand going over yours as her eyes, wide and panicked, looked at you. "you have to take him to the hospital."

"i can't—"

"do you want to save him?!" gale demanded, staring right into your eyes.

"i'll be fine," he seethed through gritted teeth, the pain growing as he tried to move. "i can't go to the hospital. i have to—" he coughed harshly and tasted iron. "i have to get him—"

"are you people fucking crazy?!" gale cried out, looking at the hero in disbelief. "you need help!"

"i'm not letting you get back at them.." your words died in your throat when you looked back at where the killer was supposed to be.

they were gone.

the hero groaned as he pushed himself up, ignoring the way you and gale tried to keep him laying down. "where are they?" he demanded, his head whipping around as he tried to look for the killer. it felt like all his hope for getting his revenge was lost in a blink of an eye. he got away from him again, and he was so close. he had him in his hands. "where are they?"

"we have to get you help," you urged, hearing the ding of the elevator as the carpenter sisters ran in. surely the police was close behind.

"i can't leave, please—" he was pleading with you now, gripping your arm tightly as he tried to change your mind, as he tried to make you forget that he was literally bleeding all over your hands. the warmth of his blood made your eyes glass over as past memories ran rampant through your head, but you prevailed.

"we need to get you help. now." you looked into the eyes of his mask, eyes serious. "please. let's go."

he swung the both of you through your apartment window, groaning as he pulled his mask over half of his face and laid on your bedroom floor. you hurriedly shut the window behind you as you ran to get the medical supplies you needed. your hands were shaking, you realized, as you grabbed your first aid kit and tried to calm your body down.

"dad? dad—" your panicked voice rang through your father's head as he stumbled into your home, his hand holding his side. you were so young, still so full of life and completely oblivious to his line of work. but a heist had gone much too wrong, and with no family, no trust is anyone, he had nothing but you, his 7 year old daughter.

"y/n, get the kit in the bathroom under the sink," he managed past heavy breaths, coughing to his side and spitting blood onto the rug of your living room. you were crying now, eyes blurring over in tears as you pressed against where his hand was, your breathing picking up when blood gushed out of him.

"spider? hey, you gotta stay with me, okay?" you said as you ran back to his side, helping him get onto your bed. you sniffled harshly as you grabbed the first aid kit.

you grabbed the first aid kit with shaking hands, the once-white plastic staining red with your father's blood. "i don't know what i'm doing, i don't know what i'm doing," you said over and over, whispering the words like a panicked mantra.

you could feel the walls of your room tower over you as you forced the box open, grabbing the gauze and bandages with trembling fingers. it was different when it was someone else. it was different when the entire situation reminded you of when you realized your father wasn't who he said he was. that he was a criminal, and after keeping it a secret from you for nearly a decade, his cover was blown.

"kitty," spider managed to say, staring at your wide, horrified eyes as you struggled to clean the blood around his wound. you looked terrified. "look at me."

you ignored his words, taking the roll of gauze and beginning to wound pack his stab wound. the red pool that seemed to grow larger and larger around him made your breath hitch.

he was bleeding everywhere. the pool of red underneath him seemed to grow with every passing moment, and you were crying. sobbing as you tried to listen to your dad's instructions of how to wound pack a bullet wound.

you couldn't think straight. it felt like you were reliving the moment again, as though you were barely 7 with your father's blood on your hands.

you heard him hiss in pain as you continued to press the gauze into his wound, but you kept going. everything was white noise to you as you kept wound packing, frustrated tears dripping from your eyes when the red continued to seep into the white of the gauze. "fuck," you muttered under your breath, grabbing another roll of gauze.

he bit down on his lip to keep himself from screaming, head falling back as he tried to focus on something. anything that would keep his mind off of the stabbing. "please, talk to me," he said, pulling his head back up to look at you. "just talk about something. anything."

you packed the gauze into his wound as you sniffled harshly. "i was 7 when i patched up my first wound. my dad," you swallowed hard, "my dad came home with a bullet wound."

"your father was the original black cat," spider-man said, groaning in pain before he could get another word out.

"he was." you had never admitted that to anyone before. "but i didn't know. not until i was patching up his bullet wound on the living room floor." you felt your heart rate slow when you saw no right of blood seeping through the wound. you had to suture him up.

you slowly began to remove some of the packing gauze, your brows furrowing when you realized his own body was healing him from the inside. slowly but surely, his own powers had stopped the bleeding. all you had to do was suture him.

"you were so young," he managed to say before letting out a whimper of pain. "fuck! sorry i can't talk that much all this hurts really bad and the fact that i couldn't get them—"

"it's fine." you looked into the eyes of his mask. you turned back to the wound, grabbing your suture kit (you really had to get a new one) and taking the needle, thread, and forceps.

"it's not fine. it really isn't fine." the needle pierced his skin and he winced, teeth biting harder into his bottom lip. "i should've thought before going to attack them, i should've removed their mask—"

"stop."

"i shouldn't have let them get away." guilt consumed his every being as he spilled his heart out to you, tears blurring his vision. "i was just.. i was just so angry at them because they killed her. they killed my sister, and i couldn't do anything about it because i wasn't there. i was too fucking late."

his sister. your actions paused when your eyes widened in realization.

"it was his sister," tara said softly, looking at ethan's sleeping face with empathy. "quinn. she didn't make it."

ACT IV, ACT V, EPILOGUE

#AUTHOR'S NOTE— pls feel free to ask me for nsfw/sfw headcanons about this series! & thank you all for being so supportive xx

#TAGLIST— @ethanlvndry , @iloveneilperry , @starsfilm , @goosenoggin , @aminatic , @wenvierismycomfort , @l5byrinth , @wroetoslut , @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @oliviapopewannabe , @wzrlds , @raggedyoldwitch , @hotweeb , @marsyay78 , @valenftcrush , @bonkyandsteeb3000 , @bubs-world , @danis-stuff-is-here , @nuhteyam , @ravenstrueluv , @taeversity , @heartipods

#scream 6 imagines #scream 6 smut #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x y/n #scream fanfic #scream 6 fanfic #ethan landry fanfiction #to fault a net—!#scream 6 imagine #scream vi imagine #scream vi smut #scream vi imagines

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nobodyfamousposts · 11 months

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Another Miraculous Crossover Nobody Wanted (DCxML)

In the midst of so many Batfamily/Miraculous crossovers, the thing I feel so many people forget is that the Waynes are...well...themselves.

Sure, they're awesome vigilantes. Trained in martial arts and with great mental fortitude to help them against the likes of Scarecrow's fear gas, Joker's venom, and Mad Hatter's manipulations.

...the problem is that Hawk Moth is a whole different ballgame.

He doesn't target their fears or dreams. He targets ANYTHING. Like petty annoyances. Frustrations. Sleep deprivation. Obsessions. Things the Batfamily generally try to ignore on a regular basis.

If he can akumatize and reakumatize the same man over his love of pigeons and people who feel they've been wronged over silly reasons, there's SO MUCH that could come from the complete dysfunction/emotional constipation that is the Wayne family. Remember, ANY frustration or annoyance or upset counts.

Meaning Ladybug and Chat will be having their hands full with the Waynes until they leave.

And given that Hawk Moth comes up with the silliest costumes and powers...

...the others would never let them live it down.

...

It was a beautiful day in Paris. And an absolutely wonderful vacation to the City of Love, where everything was peaceful and nothing was wrong.

Dick stood at the window looking out over the city.

Tim was on his computer doing some reports. Possibly Wayne Enterprises work, but more likely mission work.

Damien had apparently gotten tired of grumbling and was focused on sharpening his sword—which Bruce really shouldn’t have let him bring. But given the situation, he couldn’t argue against letting Damien have something that would help him stay calm.

Cass had found a magazine to occupy her time, though she seemed somewhat confused as to the male teen model that kept appearing in nearly every line.

And Jason…

…he was grinning. And watching Bruce with such anticipation, looking downright hopeful as he waited. Not helping was that he was holding what appeared to be a brand new camera, fully prepared to start recording.

Bruce knew why.

But he would not give him the satisfaction.

Because nothing was going to happen.

Absolutely nothing.

Bruce twitched.

SNAP!

And his pen cracked from the sheer amount of pressure he was putting on it. Which was admittedly an annoyance, but wasn’t that big of a deal…

…if it wasn’t the 15th pen he’d broken in the past three hours.

It was fine though.

Nothing was wrong.

He was calm.

Calm.

A muffled voice could be heard from outside despite the room being on the seventh floor of a building. Which of course was a coincidence and not because someone was actually right outside the room….and the building.

And perhaps if Bruce tried really hard, he could convince himself was just someone singing a line out of “American Pie” and not someone talking about butterflies.

No.

Because there were no butterflies outside. Because he was fine!

Not the slightest bit upset!

At. All.

“That’s thirty-three…” Dick counted.

…

…Dammit.

Bruce sighed.

“Did she come back to the roof?”

“Actually, she never left.” Tim confirmed, not even looking up from his computer. “She stopped leaving after the last incident and has just been standing there for the past couple hours now, catching them as they come.”

A long pause.

“How…?”

“Her partner has been bringing her water and snacks. And keeping watch whenever she has to leave to hibernate or use the little bug’s room.”

Bruce groaned.

Why couldn’t it be a villain? Or a fan or stalker? He could deal with those. He dealt with them all the time.

It was the well intentioned young superheroes that he had a harder time dealing with. The ones that wanted to help but were misguided in not understanding that their help wasn’t necessary.

“Gotcha!”

“Thirty-four.” Dick droned.

…no matter how many magical butterflies implied otherwise.

“Maybe we should do what the nice Ladybug hero asked and finish up our business in Paris?” Tim suggested.

“I refuse!” Damien shouted, jumping to his feet. “This villain has made a mockery of us and it must not be allowed to stand! I will not leave until he has been caught and my sword has tasted his blood!”

“Damien, we don’t kill, remember?”

“I wouldn’t kill him.” Damien said, looking away with a pout. “Just…dismember him a bit.” He frowned, consideringly. “Maybe cut off his arms. He can’t continue villainy then, right?”

Tim sighed.

“So that’s a no on going home early then.”

They heard a noise from the roof.

“Is she leaving?” Bruce asked, trying to hide how hopeful he was.

“Nope. It’s her catboyfriend back again.” Dick replied, blithely.

Bruce sighed.

“Do you think they’re dating?”

“Dick.” Bruce warned.

“Because the city seems to be really hamming up the romantic angle between the two and it’s kinda hard to not see.” Dick continued.

“Dick.”

“Even if it is kinda weird that they’re essentially shipping teenagers.”

“Speaking from experience there, Dickie Boy?” Jason cut in, cheekily.

“Stop it. Both of you.” Bruce ordered. “The goal of coming to Paris was supposed to be to deal with the emotional terrorism from Hawk Moth.”

“A little hard with all your emotional constipation there, B.”

Jason smirked.

“Or should I say ‘Justice Man’?”

Bruce twitched.

#ml fic #ml crossover #dc crossover #bruce wayne #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #damien wayne #tim drake #ml crack #ml humor #miraculous ladybug #bruce wayne is bad at feelings #jason is having too much fun #yes I'm making fun of them #I do it out of love

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nighterwriter · 2 years

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Compromise

Jason Todd x reader

Word Count: 947

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The poking in your side is persistent. You had tried to ignore it, favoring turning over towards Jason’s side of the bed instead of opening your eyes and dealing with the annoyance, but with Jason’s side being cold from another sleepless night, it would be best to get up and help him. Flopping onto your back, you rub your eyes and trail your other hand to intercept the next poke, wrapping two fingers around Jason’s index.

Even without your glasses, you know he’s tired. His shoulders hunch forward as he rests his head on the corner of the headboard. You’d be correct in guessing that there’s an incredible amount of tension in his neck and that his eyes were red and bleak from tossing and turning all night.

“Hm?” You hum as you escape from the duvet and sit on your knees, your hand immediately moving from his hand to his neck to dispel some of the tension.

“Sorry,” Voice hoarse and guilt-ridden, he raises his head, “Tried to do it myself, but my back started to cramp.”

You tut and wave for him to sit on the bed. You hated having to watch him go out at night and come back broken, having to sit and convince him to let you wrap his knuckles while he sits silently, refusing to talk about his nightly activities even after constantly asking to be more involved. The final straw was when he didn’t come home for three days only to return with the stench of hospital antiseptic clinging to his bones no matter how many times he had tried to wash it off back at the manor. He was in the hospital with a shattered rib cage and a concussion and didn’t want to tell you. You couldn’t look at his face for a week without feeling rage and pain burn through your veins. Alfred had decided to stay until Jason could sit up by himself and had immediately rounded into the boy when you had left for work. You came home to flowers, a new puzzle, and a regretful boyfriend and spent the next three hours talking about the future of the relationship and your involvement with his vigilantism. It had been a month or so after that talk and Jason was still weary; he’d downplay all his wounds, stop by the manor to get patched up instead of making you do it (needles freaked you out, but you’d spent weeks with Alfred learning how to stitch wounds.) It frustrated you how reluctant he was to accept help so it was a bit concerning when he woke you up.

You drag the first aid kit from out under the bed and begin the regimen the butler had taught you: check the wounds, redress said wounds if needed, then tackle whatever else was bothering the patient.

“Those’re fine, it’s-“ Jason winces as he reaches for the unraveled bandage near his right shoulder blade. You kiss his hand and finish removing the bandage as you sit behind him in the middle of the bed.

“Relax.” You murmur, grabbing your glasses off the nightstand to inspect the wound. The wound was red and Jason hisses when you touch the skin around it. “Infected. Not too bad though. I’ll put fresh gauze on it and we’ll go to Leslie tomorrow.”

It’s his turn to hum in response as you dab ointment onto the wound and rebandage it, peppering a light kiss on top of the itchy fabric. He prepares to stand, but you stop him, kneading a hand into the back of his neck while preparing an antibiotic tablet for him to swallow before setting back into bed. He groans, shoulders dropping as the knot finally loosens and he can shift his neck without shooting pain. He accepts the tablet, washing it down with a half-empty bottle of seltzer you’d forgotten about.

With the way his head is dipping towards your hand, you know that Jason is ready to sleep. His brilliant mind that kept him up most nights had finally begun to taper and the exhaustion had set into his bones. You coax him to lie on his back on your side of the bed, seeing as it would be impossible to get him to move another inch and pull the covers over the both of you.

The room is silent except for the white noise of the ceiling fan. You know he’s trying to find the right words to say, but you cut him off before he can try.

“I do this because I care about you,” You murmur, running your fingers on his spine. “I want you to be okay. I don’t mind waking up in the middle of the night a few times if it means you’re coming home to me.”

He says nothing but he stares at you in the dark, reaching a hand to pull your glasses off and place them on top of your headboard. They’re going to fall off in the middle of the night and you’re going to huff in annoyance as you crouch down trying to reach for it, but right now, all that matters is Jason. Placing a hand at the back of your neck, he pulls you forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, nose, and lips before tucking you under his chin.

Jason Todd is difficult when it comes to accepting help and saying the right words. But he knows that at the end of the day, if all he has to do to come home to you is let you play nurse for your peace of mind, then he'll do it until he can't. And that’s all that matters.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd drabble

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crybaby-bkg · 7 months

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sᴄᴏʀɴᴇᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ғɪᴠᴇ

Bakugou x f!reader Warnings/Tags: male OC tries to assault reader, short scuffle between reader and OC, attempted sexual assault (but nothing actually happens), poor living conditions, slowly creeping into the hesitant friends arc!!, panic attacks, very brief suicidal ideations Word Count: 4.6k Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!

Main Masterlist AO3

A couple days have gone by since your meeting with the heroes and the Hero Commission’s worker. You still haven’t come to a clear decision yet, but granted, this is a big decision and its not just one that you can make over night.

As you head home from your job, you try to weigh the pros and cons of rebranding as a hero. For one, you’d probably make more money and be able to afford your apartment. You wouldn’t have to sneak around so much, and you’d probably get a lot more respect and credit when walking amongst people, and not just in online spaces.

But…who’s to say the rest of society will accept you? In hero society, being a vigilante is illegal. You know that if you accept the conditions of rebranding, then your crimes will be forgiven, but for the rest of your career, you’ll be under strict watch. What’s the point of saving people if you have to be monitored the whole time?

A lot of those who have become victims themselves, or had been saved by you, respected what you did and how you went about it. But so, so many, including heroes and the government and police alike, hated you. Not because of what you stood for, that most didn’t know or didn’t care to know, but because you were targeting men. Its not like those men were innocent, but due diligence and the whole concept of “judge, jury, and executioner” really turned people off from you.

If you did accept, how would other heroes see you? Would they find new respect for you, after hearing your story? Or would they only condemn you to being a vigilante, someone who should’ve never been forgiven?

How would Miruko see you? Would she respect you, and what you’ve become? Would she still carry the same disdain she shows on the news?

What would become of you, if you let the Red Medusa lay forever forgotten in the streets, and become someone new? Should you bring up your vigilante days, or do you let the news dig it all up and find out when you start flourishing as a hero? Do you keep the gap between victim and hero empty, or would you have to spill it all to everyone?

The thoughts overwhelm you, and you find yourself in front of your door before you know it. You drop your keys twice, and by the time you finally unlock your door, someone clearing their throat interrupts you. Your head whips around to find your landlord standing a few feet beside you with his hands tucked into his jeans.

He’s a younger guy, which was a surprise when you first met him. You thought all landlords looked like sewer rats with greasy hair and a creepy aura. This landlord, Mr. Riku only exudes one of those things—creepiness.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your rent, sweetheart.” Mr. Riku nods his head to you, and you bristle at the name.

“Don’t call me sweetheart.” You snap at him, keeping your hand locked on your doorknob, the other holding a pocket knife tight in the front of your hoodie. Mr. Riku rolls his eyes at you, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he laughs.

“Ah, right. Trauma, and shit.” He says flippantly, making a face that you think is supposed to disarm you and make you laugh with him. You don’t. You stare at him for a minute, chewing the inside of your cheek as you take all of him in.

“What do you want?” You bark when he stands there staring at you for too long. Every time you talk to him, you feel like you’re going to emerge out of the conversation covered in slime weighing you down.

“You’re three months behind on rent. I should evict you.” He singsongs, twisting his mouth as he leans against the wall beside your door.

“So why don’t you?” You sneer at him, all bite and sharp teeth that he ignores to instead clean invisible dirt from under his nails.

“It would be a shame to lose such a pretty face in my building, you know? I’d miss it.” Mr. Riku looks up at you from under white haired bangs, grinning something evil that makes your stomach churn and your chest tighten. Before you can say anything, he’s slinking his way inside of your apartment through your open door, coming in before you can stop him.

“The fuck are you doing?” You shout at him, hand tightening on the pocket knife as you flip it open inside your pocket. You really don’t wanna slice up your landlord and get into actual non-vigilante trouble for this, but you’re starting to fall into fight or flight mode. Right now, he’s one of the men who’s hurt you, and you refuse to be a victim again.

“I own the building, sweetheart.” Mr. Riku says snootily, walking into your living room, violating it with his yuck. “I’m entitled to come into each and every unit when I damn so please.” He looks around the place, holding up a shirt you left on the couch and sniffing it blatantly in your face.

You cringe at that, heart rate picking up as you take a step to him, frozen in your spot when he suddenly appears in front of you again. He reaches a hand out to your own that’s still in your pocket, and you finally find it in you to move, snatching away as you stumble into the still ajar door.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You growl at him, though your voice shakes much more than you’d like. Usually, when facing off with creepy men like this, they don’t know who you are, can’t hang your living situation over your head, don’t know your connections to a high ranking hero who paid for you to live here..

“I have an offer for you, that I can’t let the other neighbors hear.” Mr. Riku whispers, inching closer to you until his nose damn near brushes yours.

You jerk back, one hand still gripping the knife, the other curling up into a fist at your side. If he attacks, you can either cut him or punch him, but that might not be enough. You might have to get your gun strapped to your hip, even though you’re sure that it’ll be too loud and alert the neighbors. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or bad thing.

“Which is?” You reply back, calculating his next move as much as you can, trying to keep your head leveled.

“I’ll extend your stay here. But you have to treat me right in return.” Mr. Riku mutters, hands—creepy, disgusting, too bony, too long, too veiny hands—reaching out to cup your chest. Before he can, you swing your fist, nailing him directly in the jaw, sending him crashing into your bookshelf next to your front door. A few books fall on him, and you stand above him, heart racing at the thought of what he just tried to do to you.

“Fuck you, you fucking pig.” You spit at him, voice cracking as he moans in pain. You pick up your bag, kicking him between the legs once as hard as you can before you finally dart out into the hallway.

From there, you run and run and run until your legs take you to a safe place, heart in your throat all the while. You don’t think you can breathe; you don’t think you took a single breath the entire way there until you found your back against a familiar door, gasping in the musky air of the warehouse.

Nobody seems to be here, as all the lights are off and its quieter than it usually is. You call out Vanity’s name, expecting for at least her to be there, but nobody answers you. You feel rooted to your place at the door, eyes welling with tears as your shaking hands hold tightly onto your bag. You can’t move—have your limbs always been weighed down so heavily by lead? Has your heartbeat always been so loud in your ears?

After what feels like hours, do you slowly start sinking down onto the hard, cold floor beneath you. Your fingers are warm and clammy when you finally let go of the bag, to instead wrap your arms around your figure. You take a breath, and then another, before the sobs start to wrack your body, heavy and loud and ugly, shaking and screeching, angry and full of—of, rage, fear, terrifying, body consuming fear.

Your eyes burn with every blink, your chest getting too tight, you don’t think you can muster anymore breath inside of your lungs. You can’t move, you can’t move, you can’t move.

A shadow emerges from the steps in the back corner, and you think that this might be the end for you. Maybe it should be—you won’t have to fight anymore, you won’t have to suffer. You won’t be such a pain in the ass for Dynamight anymore.

But instead, you’re greeted with an emerald green eyepatch and a golden, glowing eye. Vanity.

She says something to you, but your ears feel like they’re filled with cotton. She crouches in front of you, waving a hand in front of your face, but your eyes have been unseeing for a while now. So she holds you, close to her chest, gathers you up in her arms like a mother would, and she holds you.

You don’t think you’ve ever cried harder.

You two stay like that for what feels like days, before your tears have slowed to trickles down your cheeks, and your sobs have dissipated into quiet little hiccups. You don’t know when you started holding her back, but your hands grip her shirt, and you belatedly realize that she’s wearing her usual pajamas.

“Sorry for waking you,” you croak out, throat dry and scratchy. Vanity leans back to fix you with a frown, and you notice that her own eye holds tears.

“Don’t apologize. I heard my girl crying, and what kind of best friend would I be to not comfort her?” She reassures you, wiping away the few stray tears that still fall down your face. You smile wobbly at her, before planting your head in her chest again. She’s warm, and holds you close to her with her arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, stroking your hair. She lets you stay like that for a few more minutes, before she speaks,

“Can I ask what happened?” Her voice is tiny in the big, spacious room. “It’s okay if you don’t want to share.” You sit with her question hanging in the air, trying to gather the words in your mouth to spit out.

“Creepy, shitty landlord.” Is all you can muster up. It’s enough though, as she only hums in acknowledgement, muttering,

“It’s always creepy, shitty landlords, ain’t it?” You can hear her smile when you start to laugh against her skin, finally pulling back to look at her. Her cheeks are tear-stained, and you wonder if she can cry from an empty socket.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” She asks, helping you to your feet.

The rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur, with Vanity helping you to the shower, lending you some clothes since you didn’t have anything clean in your bag, and fixing you up something quick and easy to eat. You two are quiet in the empty warehouse, and you fall asleep next to her on the cot in her room. It’s uncomfortable sharing such a small space, but at least you know you’re safe.

…

Things went by uneventfully when you “broke” into your apartment to get some extra clothes and other necessities with Vanity. After that though, you’ve stayed in the warehouse full time. It’s not the most ideal living situation though, long term, since there’s no Wi-Fi and it interferes with your connection to the outside world and possible villain activity going on. Also, there’s no hot water, nor is there a fully functioning kitchen besides a microwave.

This hideaway was only supposed to be for temporary usage—running away from the cops, needing to get stitched up, some extra ammo, a safe place to sleep for a few nights.

Not for two weeks. Once your higher ups started asking questions about your performance after a few patients expressed their worry about your near constant zombie-like state, you realized that you had to find another solution. (You think its the consistent cold showers that really did you in. Miruko spoiled you with such a nice place.)

You finally decide to swallow your pride, grumbling all the while as you stand behind the warehouse, holding your phone up high to the sky.

[ You , sent at 8:49pm ]

hey asshole, its trm. got a minute to chat?

[ Dynamight , sent at 8:52pm ]

yeah, only took you three years to text me

what?

[ You , sent at 8:55pm ]

you're even ruder over text

I need a favor, but don’t expect anything in return

[ Dynamight , sent at 8:57pm ]

Never.

[ You , sent at 8:58pm ]

got some housing issues going on rn. do you have any recs for low rent apartments in the area?

[ Dynamight , sent at 9:00pm ]

Ur shitting bricks if you think you can get something low in this neighborhood

[ You , sent at 9:05pm ]

thanks for the fucking help then

[ Dynamight , sent at 9:06pm ]

got a spare room at my place tho?

[ You , sent at 9:06pm ]

And what the fuck does that mean?

“What the fuck does that mean, Dynamight?” You immediately call him before the text can even send through, heart in your throat, your breathing heavy. Dynamight answers on the second ring, and grunts at your loud tone this late at night.

“What else would it mean?” He asks, voice disinterested as he yawns on the other end of the line. “I gotta spare room at my place, if you wanna crash.” He offers up like its the most casual thing a person could ever do. You’re silent on the other line as you let his words sink in, eyebrows furrowing as your gaze unfocuses on the thicket of trees in front of you.

Why would he offer up his place to you? Is he looking for something in return? Would he take advantage of you? What if the fucker had some kind of freaky room where he could tie you up and do whatever freaky shit repressed heroes do? You bite at your lip, mind reeling, as you form your mouth to reject his offer.

“Look, not to be an intrusive dumbass but—” Dynamight speaks up after a long stretch of silence.

“You are.” You cut him off, listening to him grunt on the other end of the line.

“Shuddup.” You can practically hear the frown in his voice before he continues. “But I see Miruko hooked you up at a shelter near the apartment you were staying at, and its pretty close to where I’m at. If you don’t wanna take an hour commute to get there because you gotta stay in some shitty apartment, then you could come crash with me.”

He’s too fucking nonchalant for you, to be offering up something so hugely important. You just don’t get it, you think, as you exhale, one hand gripping your phone tightly and the other gripping the roots of your hair.

“And why would you do that?” You ask him in the tiniest whisper you can muster, brain struggling to figure out why someone like him would offer his space to someone like you.

“The fuck? I just explained why.” Dynamight grunts confusedly on the other end, and you can damn near see his thick brows scrunching in confusion.

“No, I mean why you?” You ask desperately, hands starting to tremor as you speak through your teeth. “Why are you offering up your place for me to live? We don’t even know each other, much less like each other.” Your voice, quiet, shaking under the weight of the words. Dynamight is silent for a few seconds before he retorts,

“We’d have to know each other to dislike each other.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” You snap at him, back straightening as if he could see you. He goes silent for a few beats, formulating the right words in his head before he talks quietly into the mic.

“Call this a gesture of good faith.” He states, voice firm and unwavering. “I’ve intruded on your life a fuckton these past weeks, trying to rope you into hero life, ‘nd all that, so I wanna offer up something that means a lot to me. Even playing field, and shit.”

You fall silent, mulling over his words, everything that could go wrong if you were to put your trust into a hero, a man. He could hurt you. He could get away with it, easily. He could paint you out to be the crazy one, the problem.

But…he could help you. You would never need a man’s help but—Dynamight, in all of your interactions, never seemed like the type of scummy guys you frequently punished. He felt genuine, in a sense, firm but not too pushy. And maybe—maybe you could trust him. Just a little bit.

He hasn’t turned you into the police or to Hero Commission (yet?). You guess the guy couldn’t be all bad.

“I’m not taking any fuckin’ handouts.” You snap at him after a minute of silence. You can hear him chuckle on the other end before fabric starts ruffling in the background.

“Not a handout, dumbass. Just letting you borrow some shit for the time being.” He shrugs, and you swear you hear him yawn once. You frown, kicking up some branches that lay fallen at your feet.

“I’ll pay rent.” You mutter to him.

“No shit you’re paying rent.” Dynamight snorts, barely giving you a second to even offer. Shit head.

“Okay. Text me your address.” You go to pull your phone away to hang up, interrupted by his voice calling out on the other end.

“You’re coming now? I was about to go to bed.” He grumbles. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, pulling the phone away from your ear to check the time.

“The fuck? It’s not even 9:30 yet, you old fart.” You poke at him, listening to his annoyed mumbling on the other side.

“Shut the fuck up.” Dynamight says with no real malice. “Call me when you’re outside.” He hangs up before you can say another word, and sends his address through to you only seconds later.

You look up at the sky before going back inside, gaze focused on the full moon and the cloudless skies, and wonder how the hell you’re gonna tell Vanity that you're moving in with a male pro hero. You decide that the best way to tell her, is by not telling her face to face at all.

Before you leave, you write a note left on your cot for her to find. You know she’s not going to be happy about this, but you have to put yourself first every once in a while.

…

“Well you look like shit.” Is the first thing you tell Dynamight when he opens the door to his apartment. He’s frowning at you, with half of his ash blond mane flattened on one side, his tank top twisted at the neck a little, his sweatpants low on his hips, and his feet bare. He looks like you’ve just woken him up.

“Fuck off,” he mutters, yawning before he turns on his heel to walk back inside. You follow, albeit hesitantly, afraid that something or someone might be wanting for you around the corner, ready to attack. But you take off your shoes, and pad into the living room, and it looks like no boogeymen are plotting on snatching you before you can even scream.

Dynamight stands behind the couch with his hands on his hips, a sleepy little frown on his face as he looks at you. He gestures to the open layout of his place, voice a deep grumble in his throat.

“Living room. Tv remote there,” he points to the coffee table before hooking his thumb behind him. “Kitchen—don’t eat my fuckin’ protein bars.” He points at you next and you only sneer at him. He tries to match your look but he’s too sleepy to keep up, so he only turns on his heel again before guiding you down a long hallway.

“Did you fall asleep already? We just hung up like, thirty minutes ago.” You ask him, frowning when it takes more effort than you’d like to keep up with his long legs.

“Shut it. I thought I was gonna stay up, but ‘m fuckin’ exhausted.” Dynamight grunts at you, sidestepping at a door across from what looks like the bathroom. You peer inside, hiking your heavy book bag up higher on your shoulder. Dynamight goes to take it without warning, and you instinctively grab it back, head whipping up to stare at him in confusion. He scrunches his face up before shaking his head at you.

“Sorry. Looks heavy, and I was gonna put it down for you.” His voice is small, and he folds his arms across his chest. You blink up at him for a few seconds, taking a few breaths to calm your suddenly racing heart before you drop the bag into his barely ready hands. He grunts at the weight of it, tired face surprised at how much you’ve stuffed inside.

“This my room?” You ask him, ignoring his question of how many bodies you’ve packed in there, to walk inside the new space.

It’s big. Entirely so, almost as big as your whole apartment from before. There’s a deep marooned carpet covering the floor, the walls a muted gray, with cream colored black out curtains covering the windows. The bed looks too big for just you to sleep in, decorated with more gray and cream sheets. Four pillows sit against a wooden headboard, and a small circular decorative one sits in the middle. There’s a purple throw blanket at the end of the bed that doesn’t match anything, but you see that its knitted, and you wonder why someone like Dynamight owns something so soft.

There’s a TV in front of the bed, and a small couch at the end of it. A closet on one side of the room, open and empty, the other wall decorated with a wooden dresser pressed against it. The room is beautiful and so…un-Dynamight.

“Why’s the bed so big?” Is the only thing you can muster up, shocked at how nice the room really is. Dynamight grunts at that, and you think it might’ve actually been a chuckle. He enters the room, setting your bag on the cream couch and letting you enter, before he stands back at the doorway again.

“‘Cause I’m a big guy, with some big friends who like to invite themselves over and get too fuckin’ drunk to go home.” Dynamight leans against the doorsill with his arms crossed over his chest, yawning at the end of his sentence. His eyes are so low, and droopy, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think his quirk was actually being half lion. If you tilt your head enough, you’re sure you’d see some fluffy ears hidden in the mane of his hair.

You look away, realizing you’ve been staring as you run your hand over the soft blanket. You look back to him, almost as if in question, but he only blinks at you. You’re quiet for a while, taking everything in.

“Bathrooms across the hall, too. It’s all yours, since I have my own in my room.” Dynamight tells you, head jerking back to across the hall. Your eyes flicker behind him before landing on him again, feeling something warm starting to light up your chest.

“Thank you, Dynamight.” You whisper to him, voice tiny, as you awkwardly fold your arms over your chest. You hate feeling so meek, so in debt, so needy. But he doesn’t seem to take advantage of it, rolling his eyes as he pushes off the wall.

“We’re roommates now. Call me Bakugou.” He tells you, voice firm. You want to be an asshole and come up with some smart remark, but you can’t seem to find any. So you nod at him, once, and give him your last name, too. He smiles a tiny little smile at that before a yawn breaks his face again. He backs up from your door with a small wave, nodding to you.

“We can discuss rent and shit in the morning. Get some sleep.” He tells you, going to turn his back before you speak up as you start unzipping your bag to pull out some pajamas.

“I could say the same to you.” You call out to him, watching his eyebrow quirk in surprise.

“So say it.” He nods his chin to you, slowly walking backwards to his own room. You bristle at that though, shoulders hiking up to your ears as you flip him the bird, something you’re really starting to like doing to him.

“Fuck off.” You snap at him, no real malice in your tone. Dynamight—Bakugou, laughs at that, before turning on his heel to enter his room. He closes it without another look and you feel yourself release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in.

So what now? You think to yourself, your eyes falling to the pajamas you’re tightly holding before glancing up to the bathroom.

Now—a hot shower.

The bathroom is just as big as your room, with the same maroon-grey-cream color scheme going on. He’s even got some decorative towels in here, and it makes you wonder if someone did all of this for him, or if he did it himself. Either way, it doesn’t matter much when the hot water is all you really came for.

You go on about your nightly routine without further preamble, stiffening every time you hear a bump in the loft. You keep your gun close to you, even seating it on the toilet as you shower and brush your teeth. But nothing happens, and you dart quickly into your room, locking it behind you the moment you’re safe.

You check the closet, behind the door, and under your bed, and find nothing thankfully. You let yourself breathe for the first time in a long time, as you sit on the side of the bed in your pajamas. You won’t stay here long, you muse over with yourself. Just use his Wi-Fi and shower and oven until you can find a reasonable place to live, even if you have to start taking extra shifts at your job, even if it means having to do less vigilante work.

This is only temporary, you tell yourself as you lay back in bed, pulling up the purple blanket until it reaches your chin. You don’t want to get under the bed covers—it’ll signify that you’ll overstay your welcome. You can’t stay long. You can’t.

You don’t sleep much the first night, watching the door all night long, anticipating someone to try the doorknob. It’s left alone the entire time, and only when the sunlight rises, do you finally rest your eyes and let sleep take you.

chapter six

please do not repost or rec on tik tok!

tag list: @endlessfreaky @iamaconfusedpan

#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#crybaby.bkg.scorned

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laffy-taffy-creations · 1 year

Note

LAFFY TAFFY

I have a request I've been circulating throughout the 'blr!

Yandere Villain or Supervillain or Superhero or Vigilante or Civilian with a Hero darling

Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna write it tho! No pressure whatsoever!!

First Nature

Tw: Injuries, Mention of character death

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How dare they.

Hero was theirs. Theirs! Oh, how Supervillain would learn not to touch their hero.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" Hero asked, noticing they were zoning out.

Civilian snapped back to reality, "Huh? Yeah, fine darling." They continued to patch up Hero's wounds. Their anger boiled and boiled. So many gashes. "You promise me they didn't do anything else to you?"

Hero sighed. "Babe, they didn't do anything else. It was a battle. If they tried making any advances I would've told you by now."

It didn't do anything to calm Civilian. Hero knew how anxious they could get when it came to their relationship, how quickly they could turn protective and violent.

"Hey, look at me." They had too much experience handling this mood.

Civilian looked up.

Hero put a hand on their lover's shoulder and sqeezed gently. "They didn't do anything."

Civilian took a deep breath and went back to finishing their patch-up job. Too well could their sweet bring them away from their bottom-line when necessary.

Their hero was mumbling something, on and on, but Civilian drowned them out. They needed to focus on the injuries, focus on bandaging their precious. Each time their hero hissed as another wound was cleaned, the urge to kill grew again.

Hero sighed looking at the effect this was having on their lover. Trying to stop them right now was futile. They'd have a better chance later when Civilian wasn't staring directly at the damage done.

The finished up the first-aid, and Hero gave them a small kiss before leaving to let them cool down on their own.

"Which one did this again?" Civilian asked later when the two were cuddled up together surfing through Netflix for something to watch.

"Sweetie, no," was the only answer they got.

"C'mon pumpkin, I'm just gonna have a little talk with them," Civilian tried to reassure despite both knowing that was a lie.

Hero took the remote so they had to look at them. "Civilian, no. Supervillain is incredibly powerful. You are not going to have one of your chats with them. They will overpower you, please. Promise me that you'll stay put tonight."

Civilian stole back the remote and chose a movie without looking. Their face showed no emotion but their precision was the point they wanted to make. "What's stopping me?" they challenged.

Hero glanced at the screen. It was their favourite. They looked back at their lover. "Promise me," they repeated, tired but determined.

Civilian laid their head on Hero's chest, careful of their injuries. "Fine, I can try to restrain myself this time," they said.

"Thank you," Hero responded, giving them a kiss on the head.

The next morning Hero turned on the news, unsurprised to see Civilian ran off in the middle of the night to try and teach Supervillain a lesson. The reports showed lots of damage to the base, everything in a wreck and-

Hold on.

"Hey babe?" Hero called into the other room.

Civilian poked their head around. "Yeah, what's up?" they asked in their usual happy demeanor.

They noticed the confusion on their lover's face as they looked back and forth between them and the screen. "We've been trying to track down and contain Supervillain for months, and nothing we did worked."

"Ooookayyyy, soooooo?" Civilian said, puzzled.

"How did you manage to not only break into their base, but take down all of their guards and kill them just with a knife?"

Civilian's eyes had their signature lovesick glint to them now and gave Hero nothing more than a cheeky smile.

"Don't underestimate the power of my love honeybun."

#ask and ye shall recieve #civilian x hero #hero x civilian #yandere civilian #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writers #my writing #heroes and villains

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kleenex-tissues · 1 year

Text

Yours Truly (9)

AO3 here

Ch. 9: No One Will Ever Believe You

“On your left!”

Damian arched to the right just as a metal pipe swung at him. He dodged it with ease, causing the assailant to lose his footing and trip forward. Damian swung his foot high into the air, letting it drop with full force onto the man’s head. He landed on the floor with a resounding ‘thud’ and groaned into the concrete before losing consciousness.

Just as Damian allowed himself to take a breath, he sensed another figure approaching from behind. He had thought he and Tim had taken down all of the gang members, but he supposed some were just too bull-headed to stay down. He swiftly ducked and swept his leg out behind him in a half-circle, knocking his final attacker to the floor. As he began to turn around and strike him once more for good measure, Damian saw Tim already cuffing the man.

Tim looked up and gave Damian a smile, saying, “Nice work, Robin. I think that’s a new personal record.”

Damian nodded in agreement, moving towards more of the gang members to tie them up, as well. They had already made quick work of them, but he did not wish to linger. Barbara had already tipped off the police to their location, having been watching the fight from her home base as Oracle. Sirens were already sounding in the distance. As soon as the police arrived, the vigilantes would leave to continue their patrol of Gotham.

Of course, Tim had to ruin the silent victory with useless chatter. “What a great night! We got some action with a few more hours of patrol to spare. Bats is definitely gonna be impressed with how quick we apprehended them.”

Damian attempted to pointedly ignore him as he had been for the last few weeks. Even though Damian was now talking to Marinette daily, he still resented his brothers for forcing him into the situation. He did not need help making friends. Jon, for example, seemed entirely content with their friendship, so surely he couldn’t be that bad at communicating. Besides, many people to take care of would just cause him more issues. Anyone he deemed himself ‘close’ to was capable of handling their own, and Marinette was on an entirely different continent. He would be safe from the problems plaguing the states. Whatever help she needed, the Justice League would surely step in on time. There was no need to worry for any of them, so he certainly did not need someone to worry about.

Tim continued his talking, either oblivious to or ignoring the fact that Damian had stopped listening. Thankfully, the police had closed in, and the boys were free to leave. Damian didn’t even look back before leaping out of the window and attaching his grappling hook to the farthest roof it could reach. He heard Tim call out after him, but he had very little patience tonight. He wanted nothing more than to get patrol over with.

His brother, though, was determined to make a trampoline out of every one of Damian’s nerves. Tim was close behind him, following every movement with an ease only years of vigilantism could create. His voice rang annoyingly in Damian’s ears, and the frustration overtook him. In the movement of distraction, Damian’s shot fell short of the ledge his grappling hook was aimed for, and he began to plummet.

In a panic, Damian tried to send out another shot with his back-up device, only to miss that too. It wasn’t like him to be so off his game. Surely this was punishment for allowing himself to humor Marinette so often and give in to vain prattling. But he could accept that, he supposed. A friend in exchange for his life as Robin. He never would have considered this before, but he decided he could live with the possibly paralyzing consequences of the fall. At least, then he wouldn’t have to put up with Tim on patrols anymore.

Halfway through his losing battle with gravity, an arm wrapped around him and pulled him back towards the sky. Tim had caught him.

Damian did not think there could be anything more humiliating.

They landed on the roof in a pile of limbs, their combined weight too much for the rope to pull them up properly. Damian wasted no time disengaging himself from his brother, muttering about how everything would have been fine. That fall wouldn’t have killed him.

His muttering was interrupted by a punch to his arm, and he turned to face Tim. Tim’s red face was full of anger and a little grief. Damian was confused. It wasn’t a big deal, right? Probably some leg injuries, less mobility, but Barbara could always help him learn to cope with that. He was built tougher than to let such a short height kill him.

“You could’ve seriously hurt yourself,” Tim cried. “You’ve gotta stop getting in such a hurry. Beware of your surroundings! How many times have you yelled at me for the same thing, and yet here we are?”

In his state of anger, Tim grabbed Damian’s shoulders and shook him. Maybe he was hoping he could shake the sense back into his brother. Maybe he was just hoping he hadn’t had to watch another get hurt and needed to tether himself back to the ground. Either way, his grip left a dull pain in Damian’s arms, and he became acutely aware of what was happening.

He reached up to place a hand on Tim’s arm. “I’m alright, Drake. Just a slip-up that will likely never happen again.” He raised his other hand to grab the opposite arm. “Now, let me go before I actually sustain any damage.”

Tim’s chin drooped and he let the grip on his younger brother go slack. Damian hadn’t seen Tim so despondent since their father had disappeared for a year. Tim was supposed to be happy, albeit sleep-deprived – not worrying over something so silly.

Tim whispered softly, looking off into the night sky. “I know you’re upset with me, but I could never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

The moonlight cast a sparkle in Tim’s eyes, and Damian sucked in a breath. He wasn’t good with feelings, none of the Wayne's particularly were, but seeing Tim now, Damian couldn’t help but want to console him. It was uncomfortable, this feeling of worry. Damian Wayne had been taught from a young age that feelings made you weak, but he knew that Tim Drake was anything but.

Damian begrudgingly moved to sit next to his brother and stare at the sky, as well. Gotham was truly a beautiful city at night. The whole city seemed to glimmer with a warm light. It had been hard work to make the streets safer after all these years, but he knew it was worth it to see the look of relief on his father’s aging face.

He looked at Tim through the side of his peripheral vision. Tim hadn’t moved a bit, and that seemed to make something in the pit of Damian’s heart ache.

He coughed awkwardly before muttering, “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere.”

It seemed for a moment that Tim hadn’t heard Damian, but he finally chuckled. It was sad, Damian noticed. A defeated, breathless laugh, without so much as a smile on his face.

“I’m sorry about the whole pen pal thing. I know we overstepped your boundaries a bit there. We just got really excited, and Dick really wanted you to be able to talk with people your own age. Not just us, silly old adults. We each had a group growing up, somewhere we could belong outside of Batman’s crew.” Tim turned to look at his brother, and Damian held his breath. “After the whole ‘teen titans’ thing fell apart, we were worried about you."

Damian scoffed, but he knew that even the darkness of the night could not hide his blushing face. “You need not worry about me. I am perfectly fine.” He paused before uttering his next sentence. “I have you nitwits to keep me company, after all.”

It was as close as both boys knew Damian would get to affection, so Tim took it stride with a soft smile. “We love you, too, little wing.”

Tim went in for a hug, but Damian was too quick and was up and away before he could reach his target. Damian swept the dust off of his clothes and began walking towards the other side of the roof. He hesitated before turning partially to face Tim once more.

“I’ll have you know, Marinette is a good person. We talk daily. She’s mailing a sweater for Titus soon.”

A large grin overtook Tim’s face before faltering slightly. “Wait, why are you telling me this?”

“Because no one will ever believe you,” Damian smirked.

“And just why not? We could hack into your account easily!”

Damian’s face contorted into an unsettling expression, in what Tim assumed was an attempt at a maniacal smile, before taunting, “Only if you want Bernard to know you’ve been making out with Brown.”

Tim merely scoffed and folded his arms. “Bernard already knows, understands, and doesn’t care. Try again.”

“Oh? Does he know about your steamy flights with Kent, too?”

Damian had struck the nail directly on the head. Tim’s confidence faltered and in a horrified voice, whispered, “You wouldn’t.”

“We both know that I would.”

Tim fell to the roof in mock agony, pounding his fist on the concrete and wailing about how unfair life was and ‘why couldn’t he have gotten a nicer little brother.’ Damian’s work was done. His silence would be valuable to helping Damian not scare off Marinette. With both Duke and Tim sworn to silence, he had nothing to worry about. Marinette would stay a secret, and he would get all of her attention in return.

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Re: Growing Up

Hello Marinette,

I did have someone I loved once, but it was for a very brief time. We were rather close, so the feelings seemed to appear quite naturally. I ignored the feeling. I did not have time for love.

He kissed me. Once, when we were 15. We never spoke of it again, and I suppose, he eventually stopped loving me. We are still comrades, however. Our friendship was more important than a childhood crush could ever be.

Perhaps you will think this one day, too.

I hope your friendship becomes more important for you. I hope you will learn what it is to love someone else.

I will let you know when the package you sent arrives. Expect pictures of Titus in that email.

Good luck, Damian

#maribat #maridami #marinette dupain cheng #batman #batfam #bat family #mlb x dcu #dcu x mlb #damian wayne #daminette #miraculous ladybug #wolfish-writes

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bitchyglitterfox · 1 year

Text

Ch. 5 - Sokovia Accords

Warning: Angst, pure angst, fighting, death, destruction

A/n: I used dialogue from the movie as well as added in my own, I’m turning civil war into a couple chapters but promise next chapter will be all my own writing and dialogue

*********

It’s been a month since the Lagos incident, Wanda comes out now but is still not the same as she was before. You were walking past her door to get to your own room when you heard the voice of a news anchor.

“What legal authority does an enhanced individual like Wanda Maximoff have to operate in Nigeri-“ You walk in and turn the television off.

“It's my fault,” she says without looking up at you.

You were about to tell her something but Steve enters the room and speaks instead.

“That's not true” he says standing in her doorway as you go and sit next to her on her bed pulling her into your arms.

“Turn the TV back on. They're being very specific,” Wanda says, laying her head onto your shoulder.

“Those new anchors act as though they are all high and mighty,” you say, getting heated.

“I should've clocked that bomb vest long before you had to deal with it” steve begins pushing himself off Wanda’s door frame, “Rumlow said "Bucky" and . . . all of a sudden I was a 16-year-old kid again, in Brooklyn, And people died. It's on me”

“if I had stunned him, or was quicker at knocking him out before you needed to step in, if I was faster” you say, hardening your face as you stare off.

“This job . . . we try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn't mean everybody. But if we can't find a way to live with that, next time . . . maybe nobody gets saved,” Steve says looking at both of you.

You want to say more but vision shows up, walking through Wanda’s bedroom door, completely negating her privacy.

“Vis! We talked about this,” she says, lifting her head off your shoulder to scold him.

“Yes, but the door was open so I assumed that . . .Captain Rogers wished to know when Mr. Stark was arriving,” the android says, giving you a curt nod of acknowledgment.

“Thank you. We'll be right down,” Steve says walking towards the door.

“Daddy’s home,” you whisper into her, earning a small giggle.

“I'll . . . use the door. Oh, and apparently, he's brought a guest,” vision says

“We know who it is?” Steve asks stopping.

“The Secretary of State,” Vision says while walking out of the room.

“Great what does he want,” you sneer at the mention of the man who tried to kill Bruce.

*********

When we make it to the conference room Wanda and I are the last to arrive, I take a seat next to Bucky, Wanda sits to my right. Pietro is across from me. Ross’ back is currently facing us, I send daggers at his back. I’ve heard a lot about this man. My hatred for him runs deep. He finally turns and graces us with his face.

“Five years ago, I had a heart attack. I dropped right in the middle of my back-swing. Turned out, it was the best round of my life, because after 13 hours of surgery and a triple bypass . . . I found something 40 years in the Army had never taught me: Perspective.” You want to roll your eyes at the arrogance, “The world owes the Avengers an un-payable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives . . . but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some . . . who would prefer the word "vigilantes".”

“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” You smile at him sarcastically.

“How about "dangerous"? What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

With all the shit he is talking about he could open a manure business. You lean back into your chair as he presses the remote he’s holding, the screen behind him turns on.

“New York,” Ross says. The screen shows the battle of New York, you saw the aftermath on tv, but seeing it makes me a bit uneasy especially since my friends had to live through it. I give a sympathetic look over to Natasha.

“Washington DC” I grab Bucky's hand and gently squeeze as the screen shows the helicarriers falling from the sky, this was a tough watch for the ex winter soldier since it was at this moment Steve was able to save him from HYDRA. I look over at Sam, he looks down.

“Sokovia” You look at Pietro as he can’t look at the screen, you give him a sympathetic look, you’ve heard countless stories about Solovia from the twins, about how Pietro had almost died there along with others if it hadn’t been for Helen Choi. You can see from the corner of your eyes as Wanda stares as does Tony.

“Lagos” You glare at Ross, this time he does see. You turn to comfort Wanda as she lets out a silent gasp at the images as it’s still fresh in her mind.

“Okay. That's enough.” You say as you can already feel the electricity coursing through my veins, you calm as you feel Bucky’s hand over yours, he gives you a small smile which you return. Ross soon finishes his presentation and talks about the Solovia accords.

“The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries . . . it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary,” Ross says.

“So what you are saying is we we’ll be treated like a private military, only let out when deemed necessary? What happens when there is another threat to the world but the UN doesn’t decide we are needed? What then Mr. Secretary,”

He chuckles, “This one doesn’t do well with authority is that right?”

You glare up at him through your eyelashes. What you wouldn’t give to put him in his place.

“The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we've done that.” Steve says, our fearless leader.

“That's how the world works. Believe me, the accords are the middle ground,” Ross says looking you directly in the eyes, challenging you almost.

“So, there are contingencies.” Rhodes finally speaks up.

“Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords.” Ross says looking at Tony, you begin to wonder what they haven’t told you yet, you and Steve both look at Tony, “Talk it over.”

“And if we come to a decision you don't like?” You ask, arms crossed.

“Then you retire” he says as he begins to walk away

********

You had your hands firmly planted on the conference table leaning towards Tony, venom and anger flowing through you, “You are out of your fucking mind Stark if you think any of us are signing away our rights” sparks flashing in your eyes.

“A 117 countries want to sign this. 117, Y/n, and you're just like, "No, that's cool. We got it.”

“Yeah, because it’s bullshit,” You say, turning towards him.

“How long are you going to play both sides?” Sam asks Rhodes from his standing position near Steve.

Rhodes turns to look at him wanting to say something but Vision interrupts.

“In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.” He says look over us all.

“Are you saying it's our fault?” Steve speaks up, leaning forward in his chair.

“I'm saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict . . . breeds catastrophe. Oversight . . . oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.” Vision expresses while folding his hands in front of him.

“Boom,” Rhodes mic drops in front of him.

You look over at Tony, “Tony. You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, oh wait I know why! It's because he's already made up his mind!” You growl.

“Boy, you know me so well, sparky. Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache. That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort. Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” He pulls up a photo of a young man, confusing some of you.

“Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia,” he paused to look down at you, he’s tight lipped, “He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass,” you look down, “There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys,”

“if we sign this damn thing they take away our rights, and more people will get hurt if they get to decide where we can go, do you not see that? Can you not get that through your thick arrogant skull?” You say, a lot calmer than you were when this whole discussion began.

Tony holds his temples between his hands and rubs “You know what, you can go, this doesn’t involve you. You're Not even an official Avenger! You’ve been on one mission and you see how that turned out,” Tony says glaring at you. You could hear a pin drop, the room was so quiet. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes, but you didn’t want any of your fellow Avengers seeing you cry.

You swallow thickly “Fine, if that’s how you see me then I’ll leave. I won’t be signing that damn thing either” you say walking to the elevator, hitting his shoulder with yours as you pass him, “But one thing, if the world comes crashing down around you stark don’t come looking for me,” the elevator doors close on you as you let the tears finally fall.

#bitchyglitterfox writes #marvel #marvel studios #marvel x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #the avengers #marvels the avengers

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recreancyrpg · 2 years

Photo

BASICS.

NAME. Okello Brown AGE. 26 ALUMNI HOUSE. Gryffindor BLOOD STATUS. Muggleborn FACECLAIM. Daniel Kaluuya

HISTORY.

Okello Brown never set out to change the world. He was an average kid from an average home and he had average expectations for his life — except it turned out he was wrong about all of that. Because Okello wasn’t average, he was magic. All the weird little things that happened whenever he was around weren’t mere coincidence, or the result of an ordinarily hectic family existing in close proximity to one another. They were a sign of wizardry, and he needed to go to school to learn to master those powers. This revelation led to something of a row between Okello’s parents, but eventually the witch who’d brought them the news got everything sorted out and straightened up and the next thing Okello knew, he was on his way to a magical castle to learn how to cast spells. It was unbelievable... but it wasn’t perfect, of course. Nothing in life is, not even magic.

That was all right, it wasn’t exactly a surprise. Okello had never expected perfection, so finding that Hogwarts came with its fair share of sneers and shadows and prejudice was hardly earth-shaking. Okello did the same thing he’d always done back home: he kept his head down, he didn’t make trouble, and he just got on with his life. Rabble-rousing and protesting and whinging about fairness was for other people. Not everyone in Hogwarts agreed, of course; there are troublemakers everywhere. The Wizarding World seemed to have almost as many as the Muggle, although the fact they all had wands made them a little harder to ignore. Okello tried, though. And for years he succeeded: he built himself a neat, safe, happy little life where he didn’t have to deal with things like Death Eaters and Ministry raids and Dark Marks.

That changed the day he came home to find one of the latter hanging over his home, the lifeless body of his soon-to-be wife inside. Suddenly their happy life, all their plans for the future, were shattered and Okello was left adrift in a world — in two worlds — where he no longer had a place. He couldn’t leave magic behind and go live with his Muggle relations, the way he and his fiancée had talked about. It would’ve been easy, with them both being muggleborns. But leaving the Wizarding World without her would mean leaving behind his memories of her, of all the places they had shared, too. But staying here surrounded by reminders of the woman he’d loved — of the life he had lost — was no better. Eventually Okello realized there was only one way to live in this world without her: to fight for it.

Okello didn’t know how to get in touch with the vigilante group that was causing the Death Eaters such fits — didn’t even know their name. But he hadn’t spent a lifetime keeping his head down without learning how to do the opposite. How to be noticed. So he made himself visible. Made himself a target. The only question was who would find him first. And if that happened to be the Death Eaters, well, at least he could take a few of them with him before the Dark Mark indicating his corpse’s resting place rose into the sky. It wasn’t as though he had anything left to live for. Fortunately, it was the Order who came and with the Order, Okello has found a new reason to live. Not love; that was lost to him. But friends, allies? People he can fight beside, can rage beside? That, he has, and it’s good. But is there any point in holding himself to the moral standards of the man he’ll never be again? Maybe it’s time — past time — for the Order to take the Dark into their own hands. Maybe if someone had done that sooner, his wife would still be alive. Maybe it’s time to make sure nobody else dies in this war... except the enemy, of course. Every last one of them.

CONNECTIONS.

WILA TRAVERS. They were in the same year, the same house, in school. That doesn’t mean Okello ever expected to have anything in common with this wealthy witch from an old magical family — but now they’re more than just on the same side. They’re here for the same reason: revenge. He’s never felt as though he understands someone this much, this quickly - even his fiancée. If he wasn’t so numb he’d probably feel guilty. ZINNIA TURPIN. They’re both new to the Order — sort of. Zinnia was here before, but doesn’t remember much of it, so doesn’t that sort of put them on a level playing field? Okello knew her in school, but they didn’t really know one another. She’s here now, though, and is willing to fight, which means she’s a friend of sorts. If friend means on the same side, anyway. He hopes she’ll eventually remember who cursed her — so he can kill them. GLENDA CHITTOCK. He’s not sure why she’s here, to be honest. She has power from the famous people in her life and could coast through this war with her head down if she wanted. But he’s certainly glad she is. Her radio show led him to the Order — well, led him to the idea of it. He’d been listening, realized it was more than just music, and it had pushed him towards seeking the group — towards making himself a target, hoping they’d show. He owes her one.

OKELLO IS OPEN.

**Note: Okello has not yet joined the Order. Upon an acceptance, a plot drop will occur which will allow him into the organization.

Any applicant should include information regarding Okello’s fiancée in their application; the admins will then do a “npc bio” for the deceased character. The fiancée can be of any gender.

#hp roleplay #harry potter rp #hp rp #marauders rpg #hp rpg #okello brown #okello brown bio #character bio #gryffindor #muggleborn #open

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gangrenados · 3 years

Note

dude im so disappointed alfred is dead in titans. its totally unfair. 10/10 for fanfic purposes im just gonna ignore that part so i can imagine pretty boy dickie bringing his babies to meet alfred for the first time

AHHH THIS IS SO CUTE.

(Not proof read)

Dick's heart can't bear more joy as he watches your five year old son through the reviewer mirror, kissing your pregnant belly.

He has been such a good kid, always offering to help you and also saying that he will teach his new baby sibling how to play. Little John wants to be big brother so fast.

Life has taken a turn for the better, letting Dick have what he always desired and much more. He doesn't take this joy for granted, nobody in the vigilante business would do it anyway.

Years of witnessing the horrors of humanity as you do your best to make the world a better place left you praising the little things in life. At this point waking up without back pain and a nice bowl of his favorite cereal is enough to put Dick in a good mood for the rest of the day.

"You good, my love?" He nods, not sure if the butterflies in his stomach is due happiness or nervousness. Whatever the case might be, it's to late back down.

After years of miscommunication between Bruce and Dick has left the man grow old without witnessing the ups and downs of becoming a grandparent. Such a funny thing considering how desperate Bruce was back in the day about using protection and not making him any grandkids.

Dick even remembers that awkward day when Bruce 'gifted' him an entire box full of condoms since "You never know" might happen.

Alfred was one of his torturers too, but unlike Bruce the butler didn't hesitated to tell Dick the atrocities that might happen to him if he didn't use some protection. It was so mortifying having to hear about the nastiest STDS and it's symptoms.

Dick knew that meant the better for him, but those are conversations he will never be able to forget.

Oh Alfred! Another victim in that miscommunication issue that make Dick fly on his own and make a name for himself. All the things there were unsaid, all those bottle up feelings left hanging between a kid and what grew to be his grandfather.

Dick felt his heart tighten at the memories, the good and the bad, and how Alfred always was there for giving him a hand in case of need. He has been so selfish.

"This is so big!" Your kid said in amusement, not taking his little hands from the fogged mirror as he saw the big mansion approach.

Dick laughed at his son behavior, he was like him so many years ago." Yes it is buddy, wait to see the pool. You might like it."

And the time passes, rather quickly for Dick liking, and before he notices, he's helping you go up those little stairs as your kid is already knocking on the door and doing whatever he can to get to that promised pool.

"John wait-" Dick's cut by the sound of the front door opening, there's a tall and thin man dressed in elegant yet comfortable clothes looking down at this little boy who looking back up with curiosity.

"My goodness...." Alfred mumbles as he notices how this strange kid is the spitting sight of Dick when he was a little boy, when he just came into Wayne's manor.

Dick holds his breath, grabbing your hand firmly as he tries to find the words to break the ice. "Hi."

That's the best he can come up with once he gets the enough strength to go and grab his kid. "Long time no see, right?"

"Alfred you don't need to attend the door-" another voice appears and in short time Bruce Wayne puts a foot in the scene, being forgotten by everyone else since the participants are too absorbed in their own emotions to acknowledge the rest.

"Master Dick, you're back!" Alfred says with glee, in his mouth an smile appears as he finally accepts this. His old soul finding content to be able to see the little circus boy again, just slightly different now.

Bruce swallows dryly, not knowing how to process this, and Dick feels the need to push back the overbearing emotions that want to present themselves.

"Yeah," He says dumbfounded, caught in the emotional part of this family reunion.

"Who are these people, dad?" John dared to ask, tugging at Dick's shirt and causing his dad to come back to reality.

Alfred and Bruce's eyes widened with surprise at the boy little words, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Dick.

" Uh, em, this is my family. My wife y/n and my son John. We were passing by and decided to pay a little visit, hope you don't mind." You pursued your lips in a thin line at Dick's obvious lie, at least he was talking to his family face to face.

"So you have a family?" All eyes fell on Bruce, and Dick stiffen in preparation to hear what he had to say." And I can see there's another baby coming. Are you happy, son?"

The question caught Dick off guard, he frowned before saying." Yes, I am, Bruce."

"Good, I'm glad you are." Such a simple answer held many emotions behind it, to summarize it there was a big chance Bruce was just happy to see Dick having that sweet life.

And he couldn't deny that watch Alfred bonding with his great grandson was a sight he never knew he would get to see.

Bruce walked up to Dick, patting his shoulder with pride. "There's a lot of things we need to caught on."

Dick intertwines his hand with yours, gently pulling you closer to him as he offers one of those smile of his. "Sure there are."

#dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick Grayson blurb #titans imagine #Bruce Wayne imagine #Alfred Pennyworth

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Secret’s Out

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Bruce was looking at his emails when Y/N arrived at the table.

She was breathing heavily and her hair was a bit messy, just further proving she had rushed to get there.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she huffed embarrassingly. “My shoot ran over and every one was moving so slowly.”

Bruce smiled. “Y/N. Relax.”

Then he stood up to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.

The two of them hadn’t seen each other in over a month. Y/N had been traveling for work constantly. And between the vigilante life and Wayne Enterprises, Bruce was running on 2 hours of sleep on the daily.

“I need a drink,” Y/N finally sighed after she got situated.

As if on cue, their waitress dropped Y/N’s favorite drink in front of her.

Y/N eyed Bruce with surprise.

He just shrugged.

Sometimes Y/N forgot how much her father noticed literally everything.

“Thank you,” she told the waitress.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Bruce said with a disapproving look.

She rolled her eyes. “Really? You’re not one to talk, Bruce.”

“You deserve a vacation. I’ll pay for it. Pick wherever you want. Bring Jason. Or some friends.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Bruce…”

It was a warning.

From the very start of their unconventional father-daughter relationship, Y/N had made it clear that she could not be bought. And Bruce spoiling her made her extremely uncomfortable. Even now, she still tried to at least split restaurant checks with him. Bruce always won those battles though.

“I’ll take a vacation when you do,” she finally countered.

That sure shut him up.

“Hey, I actually brought you something,” Y/N changed the subject as she reached for her bag.

A moment later, she lightly placed a manila folder onto the table.

Bruce’s brow furrowed as he reached for it.

As soon as he opened it, he froze.

“I had to clean out some stuff and put things into storage,” Y/N explained. “I found all my mom’s photos. I figured I could make copies of some childhood photos for you.”

Bruce’s silence made Y/N nervous.

“If you don’t want them, that’s totally fine.” She started to reach for the folder out of Bruce’s grip with awkward embarrassment. “It was stupid–”

But Bruce quickly pulled the folder closer to him and stopped her from taking the photos from him.

“Thank you,” he announced.

It made Y/N quickly sit back in her chair, caught off guard by his sincere reaction and how he’d immediately become protective of the photos.

Bruce awkwardly cleared his throat. “Thank you, Y/N.”

He repeated to make sure she understood how thankful he truly was. And Y/N suspected the throat clearing was to hide his emotions.

Now she watched as Bruce slowly went through every picture. He took in every detail with a soft smile.

These weren’t just photos. These were all of Y/N’s memories that Bruce missed, that he could never get back. And he was savoring all of them.

Then Bruce paused and was fully smiling now.

“What?” Y/N asked.

She didn’t know why all of this made her so nervous.

Bruce didn’t say anything as he lifted a photo and flipped it to show her.

It wasn’t from her childhood.

It was a black and white photo of Jason. A candid from when he had escorted her around the slums of Gotham for her most recent gallery show.

After months of thinking about it, Y/N finally had decided she wanted to frame it and hang it somewhere in her apartment.

Y/N’s jaw dropped with embarrassment and she ripped it from his hands.

“I was developing some photos at the same time as I was making the copies. Must’ve gotten mixed up in those,” Y/N explained too quickly, unable to meet Bruce’s gaze.

It made Bruce happy to know that Y/N didn’t have the same inability to love someone and let people in like he did. It was a relief that she didn’t isolate herself from it like he had. If her mother was still alive, Bruce would thank her for it. But if Y/N’s mother were alive, he would’ve never known about Y/N in the first place.

Their entire dinner was spent with Bruce looking at the old photos. He had at least two questions for each one. Some of them Y/N didn’t remember being taken. But most of them came with stories or a loving memory.

Y/N talked for most of the meal. But that’s exactly what Bruce wanted.

Furthermore, Bruce had nothing of value to update her on. Batman business had consumed his life as of lately, and he had made a promise to never involve Y/N in any of it. And Jason seemed to be on the same page when it came to his other life as Red Hood.

Both men seemed determined to keep her safe and away from it all.

Two hours later, Bruce was paying the check and helping Y/N into her coat.

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he muttered as they started walking out.

Y/N had learned by now to give up on those small battles. Jason was the same way when it came to making sure she got home safely.

As they made their way to the exit, Y/N caught a few stares from other patrons who were still eating.

“Do you ever get used to it?” She asked her father in a low voice.

“Get used to what?” He asked, genuinely unaware of what she was getting at.

“People gawking at you.”

Bruce glanced around and unintentionally glared at anyone who was staring at Y/N.

“It’s good that I’m seen in public…for obvious reason,” he hinted in a quiet voice, obviously talking about needing the cover to continue his life as a masked vigilante.

Once they were outside, Alfred was already waiting at the curb with the Rolls-Royce. He greeted Y/N with a hug and a kiss to her cheek before opening the door for her and Bruce.

When they got to Y/N’s apartment building, she said her goodbyes to Alfred. And Bruce walked Y/N all the way up to her door.

Even though Y/N insisted it was overkill and she could get up the stairs on her own just fine, Bruce had seen too many terrible things in this forsaken city. He could think of thousands of things that could happen to Y/N between the car and her front door.

Once Y/N realized that Bruce’s paranoia came from experience, she stopped trying to stop his chivalry and overprotective ways. She finally understood that Bruce had seen things that would prevent her from ever sleeping again. So if walking Y/N to her door gave him a little peace of mind, she wasn’t going to take that away from him.

Y/N turned to Bruce when they reached her door. “Thanks again for dinner.”

“Of course. I’m glad we could spend some time together. Thank you again for the photos.”

Y/N didn’t realize that Bruce was about to hang every single one around Wayne Manor.

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and a hug. “Get home safe.”

——————

Y/N woke up wrapped strong arms, her body overheating slightly.

When she had come home from dinner last night, Jason had already left for patrol.

He hadn’t woken her up when he got back home, just proving how exhausted Y/N had been these past few weeks.

But it was the continuous buzzing vibrations of her phone that woke her up. When she brightened the screen, she saw that she had dozens of text messages and three missed called from Bruce.

“What the fuck,” Y/N whispered as she started opening them.

But they were all about the same thing.

Everyone had sent her similar articles from various gossip websites or news outlets.

BRUCE WAYNE’S NEW GIRLFRIEND IS FAMOUS PHOTOGRAPHER Y/F/N Y/L/N

BRUCE WAYNE’S FLAVOR OF THE WEEK

IS Y/F/N Y/L/N USING THE PRINCE OF GOTHAM TO FURTHER HER CAREER?

All of the headlines were joined with photos of Bruce and Y/N having dinner last night. Apparently other customers at the restaurant had snuck photos of Bruce greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Y/N could see how it would be misinterpreted as romantic and not familial or platonic. But it still made her sick to see the photos twisted in such a way.

Then there were paparazzi photos of them getting in a car together. Of course there were none of Bruce dropping her off and them going their separate ways. That would be just too convenient for the two of them.

Y/N’s stomach dropped with panic.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she gasped without realizing it.

Jason immediately woke up. “What is it?”

Y/N ignored him and called Bruce.

“I’m handling it,” was how Bruce answered her call.

“Handling it? How exactly?” She challenged. “We can deny the rumors all we want. But everyone is going to keep tabs on us now, and they’re going to see us together again.”

Jason grabbed his own phone.

One of his brothers must’ve sent him a similar article because he rubbed his face in annoyance, finally understanding the situation.

Nothing like your girlfriend being rumored to have a relationship with her father, who was also your mentor and adoptive father.

“Y/N, it will blow over. It always does,” Bruce tried to calm her down.

“So what happens when I get photographed with Jason? Huh? They’re going to just say I’m cheating on both of you with each other or some fucked up shit like that.”

Bruce was silent, because they both knew she was right.

Y/N glanced at Jason, who was already waiting for her gaze.

She took in a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Maybe we should…Maybe we should just tell the truth.”

“You’ve never wanted that, Y/N.” Bruce tried to argue.

And he was right.

Y/N was terrified of being associated with the Wayne family. People would start believing she secretly built her career off of nepotism that no one was aware of. She also didn’t want that type of attention from the media and the upperclass of Gotham.

“I don’t think we have any other choice,” Y/N finally answered.

Jason reached for thigh and gripped it, trying to offer her some sort of comfort.

“Y/N, are you sure about this?” Bruce asked slowly.

“No. Not at all. But I’d rather not have the public think I’m dating my biological father.”

“OK,” Bruce sighed. “I’ll talk to my publicist today.”

“OK.” She bit her lip before adding. “Just…tell them the whole story.”

“Y/N, if you’re worried how it will make me look, don’t.”

“But I am worried about it, Bruce. They’re going to drag you for being an absent father. And none of that is true. They’re not gonna understand.”

“I’ll call you later with an update,” he told her softly before hanging up.

Y/N tossed her phone to the foot of the bed in frustration.

Jason watched as she buried her face in her hands.

“You OK?” He asked as he rubbed her back.

“No,” she answered honestly.

“Come here.” Jason pulled her into his chest.

There was no fight from her as he cuddled her tightly.

“This is a fucking nightmare,” she groaned into his shoulder.

“I know. But maybe it’s for the best,” he tried to reason with her.

“And what happens when they catch wind that I’m dating my father’s adoptive son? Huh?”

“We’re not actually related, Y/N.”

She pulled her face back so she could glare at him. “Yeah! We know that! But you do understand that people are going to see it that way, right? Like we’re gonna look like some fucked up incestual couple to them.”

“I don’t really care,” Jason finally told her.

“You don’t care?” She scoffed.

“No,” his answer and confidence didn’t waver. “I don’t give a fuck what people say about us, Y/N. If exposing the truth means we don’t have to think twice about going to events or even just going out to dinner, then I’m all for it. I’m sick of hiding our relationship.”

Y/N blinked. She never considered that their subtle relationship bothered him in any way. She was always a strangely private person, so it felt normal to her. But clearly Jason had been wanting to be a bit more public with their relationship.

“What if this changes everything?” Y/N whispered, not meeting his eyes.

Jason smirked at that and gripped her chin, lifting it up so she would look at him. “Some paparazzi and trash tabloids aren’t going to change how I feel about you, Y/N.”

Y/N laughed lightly at that.

“Maybe we should leave Gotham for a bit,” she offered. “Bruce won’t shut up about paying for a vacation for us.”

Jason nodded. “I think that sounds like a good idea. You’ve needed a break for awhile now.”

“Well…where do you wanna go?” Y/N asked.

“Doesn’t matter to me. As long as you’re there.”

She rolled her eyes and hit Jason in the face with a pillow. “God, you really are a sap.”

Y/N appreciated Jason always being able to make her feel better and feel supported.

But even he couldn’t stop her from wondering...

What would life be like as a Wayne?

------------------------------

Father of Mine – Bonus Content

#father of mine bonus content #father of mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #father!bruce wayne #dad!bruce wayne #dad!batman #batdad #jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood reader insert #red hood x reader #batfam #batboys

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kj-1130 · 3 years

Text

Nothing For Me

Part 7

Main Masterlist

Part 6|Part 8

You and MJ’s relationship continued to grow as time went on.

As she started her first year of high school, you worked on yourself, wanting to be good for her.

Overtime, you learned how to process and deal with things better. You focused on yourself and your developing relationship with MJ and needless to say, things started to look up.

The ‘present but not really present father’ thing didn’t affect you as much as it did, but it was still there. It was one of the only things you hadn’t fully processed and to be honest, you didn’t think you ever could.

Your father is there, and has been aware of presence for almost a decade. And not once has he given you any type of consolation or love like a father should. You would think after Pepper was getting more involved in his life and forcing him to clean up (most of) his act, he would open his eyes and realize that a whole human being was living with him, waiting for him to realize that they were supposed to be relying on him; not an AI built in the comfort of their room.

But nope. Absolutely nothing changed. If anything, things got worse.

He was away more often, focusing on the Avengers. Or he was with Pepper, the new love of his life.

You tried not to linger on the situation often, knowing it would only lead to pain in your chest. So you just stuffed it in the back of your mind, hoping one day that the pain would just lessen all together.

About two months ago, you and MJ had decided to make things official after going on your first date. At first you talked about how fast the two of you were going, but Michelle simply said ‘we’ll be u-haul lesbians then.’ That was the end of the conversation.

Currently, you and your girlfriend were facetiming. You would’ve made the trek to her house but she was about to study and you both knew that you’d distract her. Plus the two of you were due for some time away from each other considering the fact that you’re at her place almost everyday.

“Okay, so I found this recipe the other day and I’m just now remembering it.”

MJ looks at you confused, “Okay?”

You roll your eyes playfully.

“I wanted to try it with you. After my ban from your place has been lifted.”

“It’s not a ban,” she chuckled.

“Well, it sure as hell feels like one ba-” “Mr. Stark has arrived with a guest,” M.I.A cut you off.

“Who is this guest?”

“Secretary of State, Thaddues Ross,” the AI replied, pulling up pictures of the man.

“Hey M, I’m gonna call you back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she nods, looking a little concerned. “Take all the time you need. Let me know if everything’s okay.”

The two of you give your goodbyes and you ask M.I.A to pull up the live footage from the conference room.

“Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an un-payable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great a=many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the word “vigilantes”, is what you first hear when you start watching.

Immediately your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asks.

“How about ‘dangerous’?” he replies. “What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

The secretary activates a screen behind him which begins to play the previous battles the Avengers and SHIELD have fought in.

“New York.”

He clicks a button, footage of chitauri, shooting guns, and Hulk smashing plays.

“Washington D.C”

A new video appears, showing the insight helicarriers firing at each other with chaos following.

“Sokovia.”

The frame changes, showcasing the terrified citizens that were on the flying piece of land.

“Lagos.”

“That’s enough,” Steve interrupts.

Ross nods in response and begins his speech again.

“For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.”

He places a thick document on the table and slides it across to Wanda. As the team slides the book to each other Ross starts talking.

“The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”

“The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place,” the Captain begins. “I feel we’ve done that.”

“Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?” There was a momentary pause as the two men’s eyes met. “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes… you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is middle ground.”

At this point, you’re walking out of your room after transfering the feed to your tablet and making your way to the elevator.

“So, these are contingencies,” Rhodey states.

“Three days from now,” Secretary Ross begins. “The UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords. Talk it over.”

Natasha speaks up, “And if we don’t come to a decision you don’t like?”

“Then you retire.”

The elevator stops and you look up seeing the Secretary walk in with someone behind him. You give him a subtle disgusted look before turning your attention back to the security footage.

As the deathtrap descends, you can feel his eyes lingering on you.

“Can I help you?”

“You’re a little young to be an intern.”

“You’re a little old to be looking at me like that,” you shrug, swiping away from the video on your tablet as you feel him looking over your shoulder.

Ross gives an awkward chuckle and furrows his eyebrows. When you reach the bottom floor, he gets ready to step out and places a hand on your shoulder.

You look at him like he’s lost his mind.

“You seem like a good kid. Be sure to make good choices.”

Raising an eyebrow, you refrain from saying what you want to say. You lift your hand and gently take his off of you.

“Don’t touch me,”

Once he exits, you hear the chatting start back up.

“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor,” Rhodes told Sam. “Which is one more than you have.

“So let’s say we agree to this thing,” Wilson starts. “How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

“117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you’re just like, ‘No that’s cool. We got it.”

“I have an equation,” Vision announces as you get back on the elevator.

“Oh this will clear it up,” Sam mutters.

“Toaster oven’s got a point there,” you mumble, stepping back on the metal deathtrap.

Steve asks,“Are you saying it’s our fault?”

“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom,” Rhodey says.

You see Tony lying on the couch, quite relaxed, contradicting the tense atmosphere.

“Tony,” Nat starts. “You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.”

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind,” Steve explained.

“Boy, you know me so well,” Stark starts, getting up and rubbing the back of his head. “Actually I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache,” he pauses to grab a mug of coffee. “That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort. Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

Tony puts his phone in a basket and taps the screen. An image is projected of a smiling young man.

“Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia.”

He pauses for a second as the team soaks in the information.

“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.

“There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

“Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve rebuttals.

“Who said we’re giving up?”

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

“I’m sorry. Steve,” Rhodey blurted. “That-that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA.”

“No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”

“That’s good,” Tony starts. “That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.

“Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s a fact. That won’t be pretty.”

Wanda finally speaks up, “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”

“We would protect you,” Vision promised.

“Maybe Tony’s right,” the redhead speaks. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off--”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam interrupts.

“I’m just… I’m reading the terrain. We have made… some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.

“Focus up,” Tony says. “I’m sorry, did I just mishear or did you agree with me?”

“Oh, I want to take it back now.”

“No, no, no. You can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case-closed--I win.”

From what you see, Steve stands to leave abruptly.

You then walk out of the elevator, tablet still in hand with the footage up. The captain walks past you just as you turn the corner and spot the team.

“Someone’s upset,” you hum.

You walk past everyone towards the fridge and grab a water bottle.

“Anyway, that was very childish. And kinda stupid.”

Inquisitive looks are thrown your way and you hold up the tablet awkwardly as you plop down on a chair.

“I was watching you. I kinda do that a lot. It’s not as creepy as it sounds.”

You open the bottle and take a sip.

“What are you doing down here kid--”

“Ahhh,” you interrupt. “Don’t call me a kid. I haven’t been a child for years.”

“Just answer the question,” Tony snaps.

“I like to stay informed. No one tells me anything and while you think that these private meetings only affect you, it doesn’t. It affects me too. You may not remember I’m your child but several people do. And that puts me in danger. So yes, I listen to your conversations to make sure it’s nothing I need to worry about.”

An awkward silence washes over as you gulp down more water.

“Anyway, I was just riding up and down the elevator waiting for you guys to finish. That Ross dude is kinda creepy by the way. But you’re really considering signing that thing?”

“Not you too,” your father mutters.

You let out a laugh and everyone looks at you strangely.

“Is this funny to you?” Rhodey asks.

“Yes,” you stop laughing abruptly. “I find it hilarious that this is the same government that was ready to drop a nuke on the city during the Battle of New York not giving a damn about a single civilian that was still in the area. I find it hilarious that this is the same government that lets thousands of children and women of color go missing and not do a thing about it. It’s funny that this is the same government that let HYDRA, Red Room, AIM; all that shit grow right under their nose. It’s funny because this government is the same one that uses taxpayer money for dumb ass projects and unnecessary military funding instead of using it to fund shit that helps the civilians they claim they care so much about. I mean how can you not find this situation amusing?”

“Look,” Tony attempts.

“I’m not finished,” you challenge, looking him dead in the eyes. “This government don’t give a damn about y’all, especially not the three of us,” you say, gesturing to yourself, Sam, and Rhodey. “We’d be booted out of this country before you could even blink if they ever got the chance and you know that.

“I don’t know why y’all are so adamant on gaining the government’s trust when they don’t give a flying fuck about you or these goddamn civilians. All they care about is power. They don’t care how many civilians come up missing or die in some tragic accident. It doesn’t matter what happens. When they see someone becoming richer or smarter or more powerful than they are, they will do anything to shut that shit down.

“I don’t understand how you can’t see that. And maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just me and my experience,” you pause, catching the gaze of every person in the room with hard eyes. You take a deep breath and try to calm down. “Sign it if you want to. Think about how many lives you’ll lose then.”

You stand from your spot and walk into the open elevator, ready to get to the comfort of your bed.

It had been two days since the initial meeting and you were currently sitting on Michelle’s bed watching her read.

“You’re really pretty,” you muttered out of the blue.

You saw your girlfriend’s cheeks develop a subtle red tint as she mumbled back a ‘thank you, and continued reading. You groan and gently pull the book out of her hands.

“Hey,” she quietly protests.

“Please,” you pout, holding your arms out as an invitation.

MJ fondly rolls her eyes before lowering herself onto you. You hummed contently and squeezed her before planting a kiss on her cheek.

She surprised you by turning her head and giving you a lingering kiss. That one kiss soon turned into something more.

Michelle gently pushed you onto your back and straddled your hips. Bending down she kissed you once again, her lips gliding with yours.

This continued for a few minutes, taking small breaks in between to breathe. You don’t think you could ever get enough of her and hoped that she was feeling similarly.

You kissed until your jaws hurt. The euphoric feeling still lingered as MJ rested her forehead against yours, trying to catch her breath.

“We should do that again sometime,” you mumbled.

Your girlfriend nodded in response, giving one more chaste kiss to your lips before dropping to your side.

“Tomorrow,” she said after glancing at the clock that read 10:47.

“Guess I’m spending the night then.”

“I have no problem with that.”

The next day, you were awoken by beeping from your phone. Once you were fully aware of your surroundings you picked up the device and read the notifications that M.I.A sent through. Scanning through them, you sat up with urgency and played the video.

“A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Bares, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”

Carefully removing Michelle’s arm from around your waist, you stand up and move to the corner of the room. You press the contact and hold the phone up to your ear.

“Nat what the fuck is going on?”

You hear the woman sigh on the other side of the phone. “Look, just… stay wherever you are.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. I want answers, Nat.”

“(Y/n),” she says firmly. “Calm down and go back to whatever you were doing. Right now, this does not concern you and I would like it to stay that way. Do you understand me?”

There was some silence, before you let out a forced chuckle.

“Okay, whatever. Bye.”

“(Y/n) c’mo--”

You disconnected the call and gently tossed the phone onto MJ’s desk. “You sound stressed.”

Turning around to face the bed, you see Michelle sat up and leaning against the headboard. You nod slowly and crawl your way up towards her.

“I am.”

You feel her hand take hold of your clenched ones and she rubs them, causing you to relax slightly.

“There was a um, bombing at the--the um… signing thing. And no one wants to tell me what’s going on, so,” you end the sentence, shrugging.

MJ’s head drops onto your shoulder and you let her cuddle close.

“They told me to stay where I was. So hopefully we can get something good out of that.”

There was no response and you thought she had fallen back asleep, but you were proven wrong when your girlfriend started getting up.

“C’mon,” she instructed, holding her hand out when she saw the look of confusion on your face.

Taking her hand, the two of you made your way to the kitchen.

She turned around and grabbed your shoulders.

“We are going to make some breakfast… or lunch whatever. And then we are going to binge watch until we can binge watch no longer. Alright?”

You nod your head, chuckling and then got to work.

It had been days since you last heard from anyone. No updates from Natasha. M.I.A even told you there hasn’t even been a great deal of movement in the compound. Today you decided you would head back.

When you arrived it was quiet. As you walked down the halls you heard distant chatter and followed it.

Turning the corner, you were surprised at what you saw.

“What the hell happened?”

The two men turned to look your way, but you were given no answers.

Tony had bruises on his face and he looked more tense than usual. Rhodey had some sort of tech on his legs.

“You fought them. You fought them all, didn’t you?”

Both men looked away and avoided your gaze.

“You didn’t even listen to what I said. This is what the government does. I tried to tell you, but you didn’t even fucking listen,” you ranted, your voice slightly raising.

“Us breaking apart wasn’t the government. Most of this is on some guy th--”

“Well the government allowed it to happen so I’d say it is their fault!”

You turned to your father with pleading eyes.

“Where are they, Tony?”

“Kid, they’re criminals now, I don’t--”

“Stop calling me that! I’m--I’m not some kid. I’m not your kid,” you let out a frustrated breath. “You--you couldn’t talk it out? Like mature adults? You just had to go assert your dominance somewhere--in what? An--an airport? Some vacant lot? You just had to fight. Do you not know how to communicate?”

You looked at the two men, shook your head, and brushed past them.

Just when things were alright.

“(Y/n)?”

“What M.I.A?”

You were currently laying in your bed trying to control the tears that were begging to fall from your eyes due to the amount of overwhelming shit you had been hit with. You talked with MJ for a little while and while it helped a bit, you honestly were still feeling like… well shit.

“There’s a package for you.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you head down to where the mail is usually placed, get the package with your name on it, and head back to your room.

Grabbing a pair of scissors, you cut the tape and open the box. Inside was a letter and a phone.

Hey sweetheart.

It was Natasha’s handwriting.

I’m sorry. I really am. We all are. I wish things wouldn’t have ended this way, but they did and we can’t really do anything about it now.

I listened to what you said. I listened and I tried my best to understand. I don’t think I ever wanted to sign the accords in the first place. The only reason I did so was so that we could stay together. So that I could stay with you. This team is the only family I’ve had in a long time. The fact that that stack of papers could end that scared me.

I just kept trying to convince myself that signing the Accords was the right thing to do; anything to keep this team together. Anything to keep everything from falling apart.

But the more I thought about it, I realized. You were right. Everything you said. This government doesn’t care. And if the government doesn’t care like they’re supposed to then we need to. People need the government, but they don’t have it. They do have us though. And they always will.

I love you. I didn’t say it enough and I don’t know when or if I’ll ever get to tell you that again. You are so precious to me and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. If you ever need anything, you can always give me a call.

You wiped your eyes and gently picked up the phone. You held it in your hands for a moment before setting it down. You folded the letter back up neatly and placed both items in the top drawer of your nightstand.

You laid back down on your bed with less tears on your face.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

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#avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x black!reader #tony stark #tony stark x daughter!reader #michelle jones x reader #michelle jones x fem!reader #nothing for me miniseries

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marauderundercover · 3 years

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Jason Todd is tired. He’s tired of vigilantes and villains and dreary skies. Despite swearing to himself that he didn’t need a break, nor did he want a break, he accepted Bruce’s offer of a break (though Bruce was smart enough to not word it as a break). Instead of patrol and listening to police scanners, Jason was tasked with scouting out a location for a new branch of Wayne Enterprises in Paris. Tim was bitter that he wasn’t the one going, which just added to Jason’s excitement. If it meant pissing off the replacement, Jason would wear a pink beret, anything to piss the kid off. Grinning as he takes in the clear skies through the window of the plane, Jason can’t help but feel relaxed for the first time in a long time.

--------

So maybe Jason shouldn’t have allowed himself to feel relaxed. Because apparently, Paris has freaking supervillains that can flood the entirety of Paris without breaking a sweat.

Jason curses under his breath as he climbs higher up the fire escape, trying desperately not to look at the carnage surrounding him. The entirety of Paris, underwater. The only reason he wasn’t one of the bodies floating beneath him, was the location of his hotel room. B had insisted on Jason using the Wayne’s suite at Le Grand Paris, the one that he had bought in case of emergency trips to Paris. Not that Bruce ever made emergency trips anywhere, seeing as the bat much preferred to stay close to his own home base. Stopping on the roof, Jason pulls out his phone and dials Dick.

“Hello?” Dick says, his confusion clear even an ocean away. Jason had made sure his brothers knew that his trip to Paris was going to be a silent one, he needed this time away from everything.

“I know the news may look a little crazy right now, but I’m okay. Might need some Wayne Foundation trucks out here though once clean up begins. The survivors are gonna need somewhere to go-” Jason says, stopping as Dick cuts him off with a surprised noise.

“Survivors? Little Wing, what’d you do?” He asks and Jason scoffs.

“Just cause something bad happened, doesn’t mean I had anything to do with it Dickwad. Are there no news stations reporting this shit?” Jason asks as he glances around.

“Reporting what? You’re kinda freaking me out-” Dick says, but Jason cuts him off.

“Freaking you- Okay, hold on.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and snaps several pictures of the carnage surrounding him, careful not to get any of the bodies’ faces in his pictures. He sends the pictures and waits a few seconds before hearing the sharp inhale of his older brother.

“Why are no reports coming from Paris? This is- Jason this is huge. Can you tell how many survivors there are?” Dick asks, his voice more serious than Jason had heard in awhile.

“Not immediately. I can see people on the surrounding rooftops but-” He pauses, glancing around. “There’s not a lot of people up here Dick.”

“You’re coming home immediately. I don’t know why B let you go across an ocean by yourself-” Dick rants. Jason rolls his eyes and prepares to respond when suddenly, a bright light flashes in the sky and waves of light rush around the city. Jason blinks and suddenly, the water is gone. And where there were bloated corpses, are now living people. Smiling and acting as if nothing serious happened.

“What the fuck.” Jason says, and Dick immediately stops talking.

“Jason? What’s wrong?” He asks. Wordlessly, Jason takes several more pictures and sends them, once again waiting for Dick’s response. “I- is that a current view?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah. Some freaky lights went everywhere and all of a sudden corpses are walking around and everyone is acting like this is normal.” Jason says, pacing the roof as he tries not to freak out.

“Monsieur?” A voice calls out timidly, Jason whirls around and his eyes widen at the girl standing in front of him, a foot shorter than him and dressed in what was obviously a hero costume.

“Uh, hi?” Jason says, ignoring the rapid fire questions from Dick.

“Oh, um, are you okay?” The girl asks in heavily accented English. Jason just blinks at her before glancing around.

“What was that?” He asks, barely able to hide the horror in his voice. The girl grimaces.

“That was an akuma, sent by Hawkmoth. You are new in Paris, yes?” She asks and he nods slowly, not sure where she’s going with this. “I am Ladybug, one of Paris’ heroes. I can explain more, but you really should get off the roof first. And try not to panic, I’ll answer what questions I can, but just stay calm.” The girl says, holding her hands up in a calming manner. Jason nods and points to his phone. She nods in understanding and pulls out a yoyo before propelling to the ground. With a yoyo. Jason blinks in surprise but goes back to his phone.

“I swear to god Jason if you don’t say something soon I’m going to-” Dick rambles.

“I just met one of Paris’ heroes.” Jason says, cutting Dick off and reveling in the silence he created. “I’ll call back later, she’s supposed to answer some questions for me.” Jason says before unceremoniously hanging up. Jason climbs back down the fire escape, dropping the last ten feet and landing in a crouch. He stands up and quirks an eyebrow at the look on Ladybug’s face.

“I could have helped you, no need to almost break a bone.” She says with a frown.

“Kid, I’m twice your weight. You might be able to swing on a yoyo, but there’s no way in hell you’re gonna be able to carry me too.” He says, crossing his arms.

“I’m not a kid, I’m uh, I’m a hero, er uh, Ladybug. I’m Ladybug.” She stammers, just solidifying in his mind that this is, in fact, a child. But he just nods, accepting that he was being a little patronizing.

“Got it, sorry. Can you tell me why all of those corpses are just walking around now? And acting as if that was completely normal?” He asks, and Ladybug sighs.

“Honestly, my guess is that they’re used to it by now. There was a lot of panic in the beginning, but once people realized that only made things worse...it’s better to just move forward.” She says, pursing her lips.

“You’re all used to watching people die and come back to life?” Jason asks incredulously. Ladybug nods.

“This all started a little over three years ago. We have to be used to this by now, otherwise people would be akumatized immediately after every battle.” She adds, and Jason frowns. Akumatized? Three years. This has been happening for over three years? Wait a minute-

“Have you been the hero since the beginning?” Jason asks, cursing under his breath as Ladybug hesitantly nods. She glances around, watching the horizon nervously.

“I- I’m not sure why you’re upset about this, and I’m really sorry for this, but you need to breathe. Just, try and think about something else if it upsets you.” Ladybug instructs, her gaze flitting around, occasionally falling back on Jason’s angry face before she’s once again glancing around.

“Why the hell should I breathe? This is- this is insane! You may be a hero, but you’re still a kid. This is-” Jason freezes and blinks as Ladybug’s yoyo nearly crashes into his face, instead sucking up a little purple butterfly. Eyebrows furrowed, Jason glances at Ladybug’s face, almost immediately taken aback by the resigned look on the hero’s face.

“This is why you should breathe. This is how Hawkmoth akumatizes you, it’s how he controls you and makes you into a villain that my partner and I will then have to battle. I understand your feelings, and it’s awful that you can’t completely feel them in Paris, but I have a feeling that you wouldn’t want to be used by a supervillain.” Ladybug explains, and Jason tenses. Stupid ass villains attacking kids who- he quickly tries to think about anything else when he sees how tired Ladybug looks.

“Have you called for any outside help? I mean, no offense, you obviously know what you’re doing. But have you thought of calling for backup so that you can actually take a breath?” Jason asks, and Ladybug huffs before frowning.

“We did- in the beginning. The day after the first attack, my partner and I met up and we called the Justice League. We were desperate, we knew that we needed help, training at the very least. But- the hero we talked to told us to call when there was an actual problem. As you saw with all of the water, I’m able to fix everything and return it to its state prior to the akuma attack. Anyway, by the time we could have built a case and petitioned for help, I decided it wasn’t a great idea. My partner...he’s tired too. He needs a break, so he petitions for help from time to time. But we can’t risk a member of the Justice League coming here, getting upset, and then turning into a villain. There are some akumatized people who were hard enough to beat without them having prior knowledge of combat. I- I trust my partner. But I don’t think either of us could fight against an akumatized Superman or Wonder Woman.” Ladybug explains, and Jason tries hard to avoid glancing at her shaking hands, lest he embarrass the poor kid by pointing out that she’s anxious about the whole conversation.

“Would you be willing to accept help if it’s already currently in Paris?” Jason asks, an idea forming in his head.

“What?” Ladybug asks, her hands no longer shaking as a shocked look flashes onto her face.

“I’ve worked in security in some pretty intense cities. And I’ve worked as a freelance detective. If you want, I could help you and your partner.” Jason offers, only feeling slightly bad for the lies. Well, they’re not completely lies? Oh well. Not like the girl’s gonna figure that out or anything.

“I-I would need to talk to my partner first. I don’t make these kinds of decisions without his input.” Ladybug says, and Jason nods.

“If you and your partner agree to talk to me, I’ll be on this roof at midnight.” Jason says, and Ladybug purses her lips, but nods.

“Thank you. Bye.” Ladybug waves, using her yoyo to swing away across Paris. Jason frowns as he watches her for a moment. Another kid brought in to fight a war that wasn’t their own. Jason curses under his breath, pushing his hair up as he takes deep breaths to calm down. Pulling out his phone, Jason dials the one number he didn’t want to contact while in Paris.

“Hey, Replacement, listen up. I need you to do something.”

#fanfic #maribat jason todd #maribat #maribat damian wayne #platonic jasonette #ao3fic #maribat dick grayson #maribat marinette dupain cheng #This Side of Normal

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yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

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T.W.A.A: The Eccedentesiast

This is a one shot I started last night and I finished it at around 2 am because I’m an insomniac. Sadly this isn’t the 10k+ word one shot I was talking about (I’m still writing it aaa) but this one is around 4-5k words long so I hope you enjoy. This is rushed, badly written, badly plotted and badly named.

TW: Dark topics such as sexual assault and suicide is mentioned in this piece of writing.

Paris, the City of Love, what a big misconception that was. If anything, Paris should've been labeled as the City of Misery considering the fact it was haunted by a villain who preyed on negative emotions. No one outside of Paris knew though, they were oblivious to the fact hundreds, thousands even millions had died in the city home to the Eiffel Tower, only to be resurrected and tormented with the memories of their death. It was worse for Marinette though, she had watched all the citizens, her beloved citizens, die before her eyes and she was powerless to help them. Their screams of anguish and cries of pain forever ghosted her nightmares. It wasn't just their blood that she drowned in, she was bullied, abused and betrayed in her civilian form by those she trusted the most.

Her classmates. She thought she could trust them but they left her for someone shinier and newer. They all hurt her, destroyed her hard work, verbally and physically bullied her. Nino and Kim, her childhood friends had turned their backs on her too, even joining the others in causing her physical and emotional pain. Alya, her best friend, had become her main abuser. The reporter stabbed the poor bluenette in the back, figuratively. Lila was the one who did it literally. Lila, the sound of the name itself made Marinette sick, after all, the brunette was the one who did this to her. She made her friends turn their backs on her, she made them abuse her and she only watched with fake crocodile tears and a smug smile when no one was looking. And Adrien, he was the worst of all. When Marinette was younger, Adrien was the embodiment of perfection. But now? All she could see was a spineless coward and a predator.

As Chat Noir, he wouldn't participate in the battles, only flirting with her hero persona. He would whine like a toddler when she rejected his advancements. Even when he did join in the battles, he was useless, ignoring anything that Ladybug would tell him and go straight for the kill which never worked. Chat Noir was incompetent and a sexual harasser. As Adrien, however, he was much more. Just two days ago, he had tried to sexually assault the young bluenette. The blonde had underestimated the girl and she managed to get away but nothing could erase her memory of the event.

The ultimatum Lila had delivered to Marinette when she thirteen seemed over-dramatic and seemingly impossible at the time. Yet three years later, she was at the point of no return. Her classmates, her friends, her teachers, the boy she once loved, her partner, her parents. They all left her. Mayor Bourgeois, fearing for his daughter's safety, had sent Chloe to New York with her mother. Luka was on tour with his father so they could build a better relationship. Kagami had a family affair back in Japan that would last for at least a month. She was truly alone. Her parents had fallen victim to Lila's lies and Marinette overheard them discussing about kicking her out. The only one by her side throughout the whole ordeal was Tikki, her beloved kwami. Even Master Fu had to leave her.

Marinette felt shut out by the rest of the world. Sure, Paris adored Ladybug but it felt different. She was fighting battles alone, she stood as the last survivor, the last protector of Paris. She took that title in stride, or that's what the Parisians thought. In reality, she was hiding behind a mask.

The bluenette had suffered endlessly for years, she was ready to break that cycle of torture. Yesterday, she came to the solid conclusion of who Hawkmoth was, who is accomplices were and what his motive was. Gabriel Agreste was the man behind Paris' torment, Nathalie Sancœr was one of his accomplices and so was Lila Rossi. For his motive, he wanted to bring his wife back. Marinette understood the pain he was in but she wouldn't go to such extreme lengths as he did. Many years ago, Marinette made a friend, one of her very best friends who she fell for. But she never told anyone who he was, where he came from or even the fact that she met someone. The reason behind this was the fact she witnessed his murder. That death, of all she witnessed, was the most heartbreaking. Even when all these years have passed, she never truly got over his death. His green eyes always lingered her mind.

The bluenette let out an anguished sigh, she was on the Eiffel Tower, admiring the city's skyline despite all its obvious flaws under close inspection. Though Marinette had drastically mentally changed, she would always put on the same mask, she would always portray herself as a regular school girl. This was the one time she felt a little peace in her chaotic excuse for a life. Her blue eyes stared off into the distance, focusing on nothing in particular when she heard footsteps coming from behind. In her peripheral vision, Marinette could see the figure of Gabriel Agreste slowly approaching. Not wanting anything to happen, she made her knowledge of her appearance known.

"I never expected to see you somewhere so public, Monsieur Agreste" Her voice remained neutral. Gabriel didn't flinch meaning that he had expected her to sense his arrival, it made the young girl slightly unnerved but she refused to show it.

"The Eiffel Tower holds the greatest inspiration, as a designer yourself I'm sure you are aware" Marinette was used to his cold voice by now, she kept her guard up reminding herself that this was Hawkmoth was standing a few feet away.

She hummed, putting the two miraculous users in a deathly silence, until she decided to break it. "You know, you could've just asked" The older man raised an eyebrow in confusion but Marinette never looked in his direction, "It would've saved a lot of bloodshed"

Gabriel managed to catch up with what she was saying. "Are you implying that I am Hawkmoth?" He didn't sound offended or defensive, merely curious.

"I'm not implying anything" She replied curtly, then turning to face him. "I am merely stating a fact"

The miraculous user turned away from her, focusing his gaze on the city's skyline once more. "What are you going to do with this knowledge?"

The question confused Marinette, surely he would've attacked her or try to get her to remain silent?

He must've noticed her confusion. "Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't say anything"

Marinette turned her full body towards the taller man, she was going to end Hawkmoth's reign as quickly as she could. "I can heal her"

"What?"

"I can heal her" The bluenette repeated. "Emilie"

Gabriel also turned to face her, his usual cold scowl was replaced with a staggered expression. "Y-you can? Even after all I've done as Hawkmoth?"

Her head twisted back to portrait that was Paris. "To end it all, yes I will"

"Then please, follow me and I promise I will give you my miraculous as well as Mayura's. Just, heal my wife please" His tone changed from intrigued to pleading, Marinette could see that he meant every word.

"Oh don't worry... I will"

~~~

"I did it!" Tim's voice echoed in the Batcave.

"Did what replacement?"

"I found Hawkmoth's identity!"

Around three months ago, Wonder Woman had noticed Green Lantern trying to delete a video. She stopped him before he successfully did the task and watched the video herself, calling a meeting to express her anger about the situation. Most were shaken since they had never seen the Amazonian this livid before. She briefly explained how her mother was once a miraculous user and how powerful these magical jewelry could be. Aqua Man also shared his concerns, revealing that the fall of Atlantis was due to the miraculous. They knew the logical decision was to work on this from outside of Paris, the villain preyed on negative emotions and they had been ignoring the Parisians' calls for help for four years. Their sudden appearance would definitely trigger the heroes. So in the last month, they had gathered files of nearly every person in Paris as well as all the necessary information about every akuma attack. It was tiring for the Bats but they trudged through it anyway.

Damian had taken a special interest in the spotted-heroine specifically, without the knowledge of any of his family members. She appeared similar to a female friend he had made quite some time ago, the one who had witnessed an assassination attempt on him. He saddened him to no end knowing that the friend he loved thought he was dead. The green-eyed boy became one hundred percent convinced that this hero was his friend.

One day, Dick had caught him in the Batcave observing a recently taken image of the Ladybug heroine. His older brother thought that Damian was crushing on the lady and began to tease him as others entered the cave.

"Tt, that's not true" the green-eyed boy retaliated.

"If you don't have a crush on Ladybug then why are you staring at an image of her?" Dick added more information necessary so that his younger brothers could join in on teasing his youngest brother.

The Robin vigilante sighed and brought everyone's attention to the screen. "See that?"

"All I see is this little lady Demon Spawn" Jason's smirk was quickly gone when he noticed Damian's serious expression.

"She's alone" he stated simply and before anyone could get a word in, her explained further. "There is usually a team with her"

Everyone seemed to lean closer to the screen.

"She's fighting alone. Her 'partner' doesn't participate in the battles anymore, he stays on the sidelines, observing" He let the others catch up to what he was saying. "The attacks have been lasting a lot longer than usual, Ladybug leads a super hero team correct? Then why is she fighting alone this time."

"They could have all been killed... We have to go to Paris to help the poor girl" Dick turned to Bruce. "Who knows how much longer she'll last alone fighting a psycho butterfly man!"

Bruce's fatherly instincts were screaming at him from merely looking at the photo. "I'll announce to the League that we'll be joining the fight in Paris"

~~~

Gabriel lead Marinette to his office, Nathalie wearily watching. Just as he was about to open the double doors, his assistant collapsed in uncontrollable coughing. Marinette was much faster than the older man so she got to the woman first. The bluenette carefully put Nathalie down on one of the chairs available while putting her hand on where she thought the assistant would where the peacock brooch. The blue-eyed girl could sense the broken miraculous' energy trapped in the woman so she did the only reasonable thing she could at that moment, she extracted the corrupted magic, healing Nathalie almost instantly. Marinette ignored Gabriel's relieved expression and gestured for him to lead her to Emilie.

"When this is over, I wish to have a restraining order against your son"

"May I ask why?"

"..."

"...I understand, I'll make sure to tell Nathalie"

The older man stopped before a painting of his wife, his fingers reached for the painted shapes and pressed on them, revealing an elevator to which he went down in. Following his motion, Marinette placed her hand on the painting and allowed herself to descend down the mansion. It lead her to a repository with a catwalk which lead to a circular platform covered in luscious greenery. In the middle on the platform was a class-covered cryogenic pod which the sleeping body of Emilie Agreste lay. The bluenette carefully made her way to the glass casket, placing her hand on the transparent material when she finally reached her destination. Focusing all her energy, a red light erupted from her finger tips and it soaked into Emilie's skin. Gabriel opened the pod, carefully watching his wife as Marinette took a step back. Suddenly her eyes fluttered open.

"G-Gabriel, what happened?"

The man didn't reply, he simply hugged the woman of his dreams before turning the the young girl.

"I... Thank you Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, I can give you the miraculous now if-"

"Ladybug will be at the Eiffel Tower soon, I suggest you give the miraculous to her then"

Gabriel nodded and thanked the girl once more as she left. Before she reached the lift that would lead her back up to Gabriel's office, Marinette turned to face the newly reunited couple.

"Enjoy the happiness in your life, Monsieur Agreste, you never know when it may end"

She then turned to leave, not wanting to here what her former idol had to say. When she reached the main floor of the Agreste Mansion, Marinette was greeted by Nathalie. The bluenette acknowledged the assistant with a nod, meaning that Emilie was awake. The assistant let out a sigh of relief and rushed to Adrien's room, not wanting to be around the blonde boy, Marinette promptly left. Once out of the premises of the mansion, she transformed and waited for Gabriel to return the miraculous. What she didn't realise was that the Justice League would also be coming to pay her a visit.

It felt like an eternity, waiting for the miraculous to be handed back to her but the bluenette was patient. She waited four years for this moment, but she had to share the moment alone. It was bittersweet. Soon enough Gabriel arivied, hastily giving Ladybug both the brooches with apologetic eyes and leaving without a word. The spotted heroine presumed that he wanted to get back to his wife and son, she couldn't blame him. Ladybug reached for her yo-yo teary-eyed, she was going to put both miraculous in her weapon before returning them in the miracle box but she stopped when she heard multiple figures approaching where she was standing.

~~~

Batman and his sons were the ones to go to Paris and alert Ladybug of their findings. The five men found themselves in front of the Eiffel Tower, Tim found out that was were the heroes would return to after their patrol.

"We must tell Ladybug right away" Batman pulled out his grappling hook and flung himself to one of the higher levels, all but Robin followed suit.

The vigilante had a feeling to remain on a lower level. He wanted to be reunited with his long lost friend but he couldn't find the words. Simply, he used his grappling hook to bring him onto one of the beams, low enough so he couldn't be seen but high enough to hear any conversation.

"Greetings, Ladybug" His father's voice echoed through the quiet building.

"Monsieur Batman? Wh-what are you doing here?" Her voice sounded almost exactly as he remembered, of course it sounded deeper and more matured but it had a more desolated edge to it.

~~~

"We apologize for not intervening earlier but we didn't know how well we needed to control our emotions" Red Hood watched as Nightwing brushed a hand through his hair nervously.

"But we can help now!" Red Robin's excited voice came out of nowhere, Ladybug looked at the vigilante in surprise. "We found out Hawkmoth's identity so we can finish this once and-"

Ladybug put a single hand up, a small smile on her face, silencing Red Robin's rambling. "That's very considerate of you, all of you" Her gaze landed on each vigilante one at a time. "But I... have things sorted" She pulled out two brooches from behind her back to show the men before putting the miraculous in her yo-yo. "I appreciate all you've done, truly I do. But can I ask one for one more favor?"

"Of course, what is it?" Nightwing asked, clearly wanting the spotted heroine to be gleeful once more.

"Could you... help the other heroes to help the Parisians to heal?"

"It's the least we can do" Batman replied. "Will you be there too?"

"I'm afraid not" Ladybug turned around and leaned forward on the banister. "You know how Hawkmoth prays on negative emotions, so I've had to deal with my emotions in an unhealthy manor but now... Hawkmoth is no more. I can be free"

"Wh-"

"Thank you, truly" Ladybug jumped up on to railing, facing the group of vigilantes. Her sad smile faded as she stared at the floor.

They didn't even get a chance to process what was happening before it did. A bright light surrounded the young hero and they were forced to close their eyes. As the light died down, Red Hood saw a small bluenette. She looked so weak, so pretty, so... fragile. It hurt the vigilante's heart seeing someone like this being the sole protector of Paris with no one by her side.

"Hey little lady-"

"I'm sorry Tikki"

The girl looked at all the vigilantes slowly, mouthing a 'thank you' before letting herself lean backwards.

Gravity took the Parisian heroine and she fell.

A small creature holding something shiny stared in horror as its owner fell."MARINETTE!" The small creature's anguished scream seemed to bring the vigilantes back to reality.

~~~

"MARINETTE!"

Robin's head shot up, that name was all too familiar. Suddenly, he took note of a figure falling fast from above, her raven hair flowing in the wind. Without giving a second thought, he bounded down the ledge he was on, landing on one of the platforms and had his arms out ready to catch the fallen angel. The bluenette was close enough for Robin to grab her and he pulled her in so that her feet landed on the platform, her body still looming over the edge of the building. His brother and father landed not far from him, bounding over to help the bluenette but Robin took no notice of their presence.

"Why didn't you just let me f...all" The girl's voice trailed off as her eyes widened in recognition, the air in her lungs escaped from her lips. "...d-Damian?"

The two friends took no notice at how the vigilantes behind Robin stiffened. Her eyes developed a watery sheen as the situation began to really hit her. Tears threatened to spill as her lip quivered. Robin pulled her away from the ledge and she jumped into his arms, she was heavily touch-starved. Much to his family's surprise, he didn't push her away. In fact, he hugged her back. They heard what she said next.

"I... I thought you were dead, Dami"

"...why? What made you do this, Malaki?"

They didn't hear what she said next as her mumbling was muffled in Robin's chest. Nightwing walked up to the two first, kneeling down to be eye level with the girl.

"Hey Sunshine... we don't know what you've been through but we're willing to help you though it okay?" The girl looked at his sincere gaze, her eyes were so round with innocence, Nightwing thought he would melt.

"I... thank you, I'm sorry for worrying you when I... jumped" No one failed to notice when Robin ran his fingers through the bluenette's hair.

"Don't apologize Little Lady" Red Hood walked over to where Nightwing was kneeling, sitting next to his older brother. "Hawkbitch forced you to bottle up your emotions, you were just strong for too long."

Marinette looked between the two men, a grateful smile on her face while she wiped the tears of pure happiness running down her cheeks. "Thank you, I- this... this is the nicest I've been treated recently"

"If you don't mind me asking," Batman walked over and Marinette felt slightly intimidated you his presence as well as his tone. The dark knight must have noticed this since he cleared his throat and began talking in a softer manner. "What happened to cause you to go to such extremes? You're obligated to not having to talk about it right away if the subject makes you uncomfortable"

"Well I guess I do have to talk about it eventually..."

Recognising the bluenette's discomfort, Red Robin stepped in. In his palm was the shaken kwami who flew straight for Marinette once the vigilante got close enough. "Since you know Robin's identity, and we already sorta know yours, it's only fair if we tell you who we are, right?" He looked at his two older brothers and then at his adoptive father. "My name's Tim Drake nice to meet you"

Marinette was about to take his offered hand when the vigilante she presumed was Red Hood took it instead, "Jason Todd, Robin's most charming and handsome brother" She giggled at Damian's obvious annoyance.

"Well I'm Richard Grayson, Robin's favourite brother, but you can call me Dick" The vigilante in the suit who comforted her first, introduced himself.

"It's nice to meet all of you"

Batman soon came over as well to aquatint with the young heroine, offering out his hand for a handshake. "Bruce Wayne"

She returned the hand shake and brightly smiled, it blinded nearly all those near. "Thank you, Mr Wayne. Wait..." she turned to face Damian, one of her eyebrows raised. "Wayne?"

"I may have failed to mention that part" To Robin's surprise, Marinette started giggling so he huffed in taken offense.

"Sorry it's just- a girl in my class as been boasting about dating you and about the Wayne Family seeing her as their 'honorary member'. I knew she was lying I just didn't know that I would bump into the people she was lying about"

Bruce hummed. "We'll have to do something about this girl you're talking about. In the meantime, why don't you come back to the hotel with us? You and Damian can catch up" The older man saw the hesitation in her eyes but he also saw the willingness that shine through the most. "If you're living in a bad environment then you do have to escape" His sons nodded along.

"I'll come, can I bring some overnight clothes? It's been a long day..."

"Of course, you go get your belongings and you can meet us at the Grand Paris Hotel"

"I... thank you again" She transformed and headed in the direction of her house, leaving Robin at the mercy of his brothers.

"You like her, Brat" Red Robin spoke up first.

Nightwing pretended to wipe his tears. "Baby Bird's all grown up now"

"That means you can't adopt the little Pixie, don't think I haven't seen the adoption papers"

~~~

When Marinette destransformed on her balcony rooftop, she quickly went inside, packed some clothes as well as some essentials. When she was satisfied with her belongings, she gave a macaron to Tikki before heading downstairs where she was met with two disappointed looking parents.

"Is something wrong?"

"We've decided," Tom began. "We're kicking you out for what you've done to your lovely classmate, Lila"

"We don't recognise the person you've become, Marinette. You are not the daughter we raised" Sabine added

"May I pack my things in the morning?" Marinette inquired, her eyes void of emotion. When her parents nodded, she left the bakery and down to the hotel where Damian was waiting in the lobby. As she approached, he took her bag and intertwined their hands together. She blushed at the contact but leaned into his embrace.

When she entered the hotel room she was greeted by the vigilantes who were now changed and unmasked. The bluenette was welcomed with open arms, she felt the warmth in her heart for the first time since Lila's Tyranny. She briefly explained Lila's lies, what she had done to Marinette and how the bluenette was able to protect Paris. She would've carried on longer if it weren't for the hotel phone ringing. It was the receptionist, saying that someone had asked to see Marinette. Confused, she went down with Damian, Jason followed closely behind since he had grown quite attached to the little fairy. Waiting at the front desk as a woman, Damian and Jason recognised her instantly as Mayura. Damian tried to step in front of his friend but she completely ignored their futile attempts to keep her in reach.

"Ah, Hello Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng"

"Hello Nathalie, we're you the one who asked for me?"

"Yes, I just need to clarify a few things"

"Go ahead"

"You're request for the restraining order has been fulfilled" the bluenette nodded, waiting for Gabriel's assistant to continue. "May I ask what did he do to make you request for it?"

The two notices how Marinette stiffened. She contemplated before sighing. "Attempted sexual assault. If you look at the camera footage outside of the Louvre from two days ago, seven pm onwards, you'll see your evidence." Marinette turned away from Nathalie and walked back to Damian who, once in range, pulled her in for a hug.

"I'll never let him near you again, Angel"

~~~

The next day, Bruce had shown up with Marinette at her parents' bakery. Upon hearing about the young bluenette being kicked out, he had asked for her permission for him to be her Guardian until she was old enough to live in her own. Marinette accepted his offer. When they had entered the building, her parents had greeted their customers kindly before recognising Marinette. Bruce turned to the young girl next to him and smiled.

"You go pack your things I'll deal with this" She smiled and bounded upstairs, leaving Bruce to talk with the bakery's owners.

"Hello Sir, how may we help you?" Sabine began, wanting to know who this man was.

"I've come to gain guardianship of your daughter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng"

"Why should we give you guardianship?" Tom asked.

"I'm sure you know the liability for child neglect, Mr Dupain" With his words, both adults seemed to turn white. "I will file the necessary and submit it with the court, I'm sure you'll be willing to give your approval"

Both Marinette and the mystery man left, true they were glad that their mistake of a daughter had gone but they wondered who she had gone with.

~~~

Later that afternoon was a charity event which the Waynes were supposed to attend as they were invited by the mayor himself, the plus side was that the Akuma class would also be attending and they had no clue the Wayne Family would be there.

"...And finally I'd like to thank the Wayne Family for joining us this evening" Mayor Bourgeois finished his speech and all heads turned to the table the Waynes and Marinette were sitting on. As his speech was over, a teenage girl with glass and a very pale brunette came over to the table.

"Hello Mr Wayne, My name's Alya and I'm your honorary daughter's best friend and I was hoping-"

"Marinette" Bruce began, cutting off the aspiring reporter. The Alya girl only then seemed to notice that the bluenette was sitting at the table. "Is this girl you're friend?"

The bluenette took one hard look at Alya before shaking her head, "No"

"Marislut what th-"

"It would be appreciated if you did not talk about my honorary daughter and future daughter-in-law on that manner" Both Damian and Marinette turned red, one much more than the other. "In fact we should be leaving" Bruce and the rest of the family got up. "Miss Rossi, I will not tolerate your lies. You will receive a lawsuit for defamation and slander. Have a good evening" They left, leaving a reporter, a liar and a class speechless.

When they reached the hotel room they finished packing up, they would be leaving that night. Marinette made a few phone calls, telling her friends that she would be moving to Gotham. They had their belongs taken to the limo downstairs and had a few snacks before making their way down. In the lobby were many different people around the bluenette's age, she recognised them as her classmates and continued walking beside Damian until Alex came over.

"Marinette... we're sorry. We understand that you probably won't forgive apps but we wrote you letters anyway" the skater girl gave Marinette a pile of enveloped letters, ones she put in her bag straight away.

"Thank you for your apologies but I don't think I can forgive you just yet, goodbye Alix" the bluenette got in the limo and let out a breath she knew she was holding.

Her eyes glanced out the tinted window, she smiled knowing that she was leaving Paris for a better life. A better life with a friends, a better life with a new family. A better life with Damian.

~Bonus~

The harsh blizzard outside was definitely being felt from inside the manor, leaving a cold and tired Marinette on the couch. Damian, noticing his girlfriend's state, went to grab a blanket to cover both Marinette and himself. She snuggled into the green-eyed boy, taking all the warmth she could get, and slowly she drifted off to sleep. Damian too felt drowsy so soon followed his girlfriend into dreamland.

Jason came in a few moments later to find the sleeping couple, he was then reminded by how tired he was so he went on the couch and leaned his back against his youngest brother, himself too falling victim to slumber.

The next person to walk in was Dick, he had just finished training so he was exhausted. But he couldn't help to coo when he came across the scene in front of him. The eldest son then got on the sofa and carefully leaned against Marinette, similar to what Jason had done with Damian. It didn't take long for him to join them in dozing off.

Tim arrived with a big cup of freshly made coffee, one which he was about to drink until he noticed his siblings all curled up on the couch sleeping. The co-CEO went back to the kitchen, left his cup of coffee then went to grab a blanket to join his family. Wrapping himself in a blanket burrito, Tim placed himself on the floor pressed up against sofa.

When Bruce returned home safely, he went to the main living room to see his children, and his future in-law who was basically his own by now, sleeping soundly with the TV still running. Reaching for the remote, he turned the television off and grabbed his phone to take a picture. He planned on printing it out and having it framed in his study. Bruce sat on one of the armchairs, taking a book to read. If there was peace in the house, he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

#daminette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damianette #mlb x dc #ml x dc #This is so bad I hate it and it started out good as well aaaaaaaa

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eliemo · 3 years

Text

Something Long and Stupid

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

TWs: Violence, threats, strong language, blood

Notes: Superhero au, Spiderman Virgil, Deadpool Remus, enemies to lovers Dukexiety

New project that nobody asked for. I know I should finish my ongoing wips before starting a new one but I do not control the hyperfixation.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

When Virgil kicked Remus in the chest and sent him hurtling off the building into an active construction site, Remus found himself thinking about how they’d met.

Honestly, it hadn’t started off much better. Spiderman was a piece of shit who thought he was so much better than Remus just because Deadpool killed some people every now and then.

Well, that had been the first impression anyway. They hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot.

Remus had been doing his job, thank you very much, he was a mercenary for hire, it wasn’t like he’d been going after a gang of strangers for fun. And he certainly hadn’t needed help.

There were three of them and one of him, just some standard thugs that had been causing a bit too much trouble for people with more money to spend, their names already set to pay for Remus’s rent this month.

He’d unsheathed his swords, (guns would make it over too quickly, and what was the fun in that?) letting the assholes get their hopes up by grabbing for their own weapons and then—

Then all his targets were all suddenly covered in webs, firmly plastered to the nearest wall with threats and screaming that Remus ignored in favor of whirling around, slicing the air with his blades.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

Spiderman was half hanging off the wall, stepping back down onto the ground when he saw Remus staring. “You’re welcome,” he called, like Remus had asked for him to come in ruin is fun.

Remus scoffed, because rude. You don’t just steal someone’s kill like that. But at least they were immobilized now, which meant shooting them and getting the day over with would be a piece of cake. The webs weren’t budging no matter how frantically they kicked.

He yanked his gun from his belt to do exactly that, only to have another web (seriously, fucking spider webs had no business being this strong) wrapped around his wrist, another pulling the pistol right out of his hand.

“Uh, motherfucker?” Remus took a step back, furiously grabbing at the lingering webs with his bare hands, grimacing at the way it clung to his leather. “Jeez, you want me to decapitate them instead?”

“They’re already down,” the asshole said, like Remus hadn’t noticed. “Back off, Deadpool.”

Remus didn’t have time to be surprised that Spiderman knew who he was, far too busy wanting to run over and punch him right in his stupid masked face. “Ok, clearly you don’t know my deal. Move it, Webs.”

“Then you don’t know mine,” he said, masked eye staring blankly from underneath the hood over his suit. “I’m not letting you murder defenseless people.”

“They’re not fucking defenseless.”

“They’re not breaking free,” the spider said. “The cops will take whoever I capture for them. Call them and leave.”

Remus scoffed and tightened his hold on his sword, wondering if he really wanted to get into a fight with Spiderman in the middle of the afternoon. It was only fucking Tuesday, he was too tired to deal with this shit. “And they can take them in body bags. Give me my gun back.”

Remus was a good foot taller than him, and loaded with about three times as many weapons, but the masked asshole didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. God, he was probably smirking under his suit.

“I finished the fight, I get to decide.” He turned around, his back to Remus like he didn’t even care. “Maybe try to be faster next time.”

“Oh, fuck right off with that,” Remus snarled. “Fuck off. Fuck off and suck a fat dick, you fucking—”

“Either you walk away, or I leave you tied to the wall.”

“Kinky,” Remus smirked, even if Spiderman couldn’t see it under his own mask. “But fat fucking luck. No way in hell am I letting some bitch in black and purple spanx steal my kill.”

Spiderman actually had the audacity to sigh, like he was dealing with a petulant child. “Nobody’s getting killed.”

“You know, I’ve got more than one gun,” Remus said, mentally calculating how fast he’d have to move to shoot every single person in this alleyway. “I’m playing nice. Get out of my way.”

“You’re not shooting someone who can’t fight back.”

“Oh, are you the moral police?” Jesus, Remus wanted to punch this guy. “Man, fuck off. It’s none of your business.”

He grabbed for his other gun, only to immediately feel something wrap around his waist and legs, yanking hard and lifting him into the air. He shouted something he really hoped no pedestrians were close by enough to overhear, doing his absolute best to give Spiderman his coldest glare as he was slammed against the brick wall, upside down, held firmly down by fucking spider webs.

“Oh, you bitch.”

Remus twisted and thrashed, and while he could feel the webs giving way already it would be a good few minutes until he was free. That fucking asshole.

“Next time I see you I’m cutting off your spider ass and hanging it on my fucking wall!”

Spiderman ignored him, and Remus watched as he grabbed the thugs Remus was supposed to kill and one by one swung them out of the alleyway before disappearing completely.

That whore.

It hadn’t been long, unfortunately, until they’d met again, and Remus had of course tried to punch the asshole right in the head.

They’d ended up on the same rooftop, which was even worse because Remus came up here to relax. Spiderman had just been sitting there, legs dangling over the edge as he watched over the city, looking almost peaceful with his hood down and the sun beating against his mask.

So Remus had immediately vaulted over and swung at him as hard as he possibly could.

And then he’d missed, because of course Spidey had to have fucking inhuman reflexes, which was bullshit. He’d ducked away and managed to jump to Remus’s side before Remus even registered that his fist had met nothing but air.

“Can you leave?” Spiderman asked, so unbothered it only made Remus angrier. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Making sure people don’t get killed,” he said, moving back towards the ledge. “You should try it sometime.”

Remus crossed his arms, watching the vigilante in disbelief. “You get that I’m a mercenary, right? You’re surprised by the killing thing?”

“I’m not,” he said, and he still wouldn’t even look at Remus. “But I’m stopping it when I can.”

“Oh? So you’re ruining a small business?” Remus threw his arms out and turned towards the ledge overlooking the bustling city. “Spiderman doesn’t support small businesses, you heard it here first, folks!”

Spidey was staring at him now, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion he would not appreciate the look he was being given if the mask was taken off. Asshole.

“I don’t support killing people, Deadpool.”

“Sucks,” Remus said. “You should’ve stayed out of the way. If I wasn’t so kind and generous I would have shot you.”

“You mean if you hadn’t been tied up and defenseless,” Spiderman corrected, and Remus was right back to wanting to punch him. “You’re lucky I didn’t get you arrested.”

Remus dramatically put a hand to his chest and gasped, walking along the roof’s edge. “Oh no. What ever would I have done? I’d be defeated! My one weakness. C ops.”

Spidey didn’t respond, but he did get up and move away when Remus got a bit too close to where he was perched on the ledge. Ha .

“Maybe I should have called the cops on you, Spidey,” Remus added. “They’d finally catch the masked menace. Some jail time might humble you.”

“I’d be fine,” Spiderman said. “I wasn’t the one tied to a wall.”

Remus hopped back onto the roof with a growl, grimacing at the reminder of how long it had taken to get those webs off his suit. “Yeah, don’t do that shit again. Seriously, I can and will end you.”

“Get in line behind half the city, Deadpool.”

Remus scoffed, something he apparently did a lot of whenever talking to Spiderman, and followed him across the rooftop. “Man, your ratings are shit. At least I don't act like a hero.”

It was hard to see, barely noticeable, but Remus saw Spidey’s shoulders tense, just a bit. Apparently he’d struck a nerve. Good.

“I don’t act like anything,” he said, and it was just a little less cocky than before. “I’m just trying to help people.”

“Oh, so you’re playing hero.” Remus grinned, moving until he was crouched right in front of the vigilante. “Ooh ooh, let me guess...you’re in college. You’re ...22. Maybe 23, or 24. You got these big bad powers one day and figured you were the only one in the whole wide world who could protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.”

Spidey didn’t answer, just looked at him with that blank, unamused stare, so Remus continued. “Or were you born with them? Doesn’t seem like it, you’ve only popped up in the last two or three years—”

“It’s none of your business,” Spiderman cut in, and Remus smirked. “And you’re wrong, for the record.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Remus asked, amused despite himself. “If nobody wants you, why are you even trying?”

Spidey was tense now, and doing a real bad job of hiding it. “Maybe I don’t give a shit what people think.”

“Right.” Remus didn’t need to see the guy’s face to know that wasn’t it. “You do realize how much money you could make with those powers, right?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m fine doing what I’m doing.”

Remus looked him over, he’d seen spidey all over newspapers and on TV before, but this was the first time actually talking to him in person, besides the other day when the asshole had ruined his afternoon. Honestly, it was kinda underwhelming. He expected the suit to be higher tech, at least.

“Are you broke?” he asked. “You seem broke. I could make you a way better mask, by the way. It looks like shit.”

“I’m sure,” Spidey said, completely ignoring his generous offer. Rude. “And how much do you get paid for killing people?”

“A lot.”

Spiderman hummed nonchalantly, no longer looking at Remus. “Well, I’m glad it’s worth it.”

“It is! I sleep like a baby in my king sized bed.” And yeah, that was a little bit of a lie. Barely.. He wasn’t living that luxuriously, New York was expensive as shit, but based on his tech he was way better off than Webs.

“That’s wonderful,” Spiderman said and damn, apparently the masked menace was capable of being a sarcastic bastard as well as a cocky asshole. “You done pretending now? Can I go?”

“I’m not pretending anything.”

“Yeah, ok.” Spiderman was back to sounding arrogant, and Remus couldn’t remember why they were talking instead of fighting to the death. “I know you sleep like shit.”

Remus actually laughed, humorless and cold, because what the fuck?

“Oh yeah?”

“Nobody kills for a living if their life is going great,” Spidey said. “What horrible trauma pushed you to that decision?”

Oh, this motherfucker. This piece of shit. He was so dead when Remus could catch him off guard.

“Nobody puts on a costume and fights crime when half the city wants him dead if his life is going great, either.” Remus smirked, moving to try to get Spidey to look at him again. “At least I get money for it. No student loan debt at 26 is pretty nice.”

He probably shouldn’t have given the vigilante that was quickly turning into his sworn enemy his age but eh. What was he gonna do, kill him? Remus didn’t stay dead.

“That’s great,” Spiderman said. “And all it cost was people’s lives.”

“Yep!” Remus hoped it came out cheery enough to piss him off a little more. “Think of it this way, Spidey. They’re gonna die anyway.”

Spiderman immediately straightened up and stalked to the other end of the rooftop, clearly wanting the conversation to end. Mission accomplished. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s true!” he called, just to drive home the fuck off a bit more. “Someone would have gotten to them eventually.”

“They’re still people, Deadpool.”

Remus shrugged. “Good people don't get hits put on them.”

“Maybe not,” the vigilante agreed. “But good people don’t murder in exchange for money, either.”

Remus barked another laugh at that, more genuine this time because... yeah? Duh. “No shit. I never fucking said I was a good person.”

“You’re lucky you haven't killed anyone innocent yet.” And goddammit there was that ‘hero’ shit again that made Remus want to throw up. He’d just been starting to have fun, too.

“It’s still not your business.”

“It will be,” Spidey said, perched on the ledge in a way that would make Remus dizzy if he cared. “Stick to killing criminals and we'll be fine.”

“Oh?” Remus followed, smirking in a way that would probably get him punched if he took off his mask. “Are you gonna come get me if I’m not good?”

“That’s my job.”

“Aw, don’t worry,” Remus teased. “I’ll wear something sexy for you.”

“Gross.”

“Love you too, Spider Babe!”

Spidey scoffed, responding with a gloved middle finger when Remus winked. Remus watched a web shoot from his wrist, and suddenly Spiderman was gone, swinging across New York rooftops, leaving Remus to try to figure out how he was getting down.

Remus honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. He was fucked in the head, but he didn’t have any plans to lose control and start killing everyone in sight. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t a villain Spiderman needed to spend time tracking down. New York was busy enough for both of them already.

He did plan on chucking the nearest heavy object at him if he ever saw Spidey swinging past. That never ended up happening. Not that he cared. He didn’t miss him.

He expected to catch a glimpse of him eventually, maybe close enough to yell a few lighthearted threats or call him names, but nothing as entertaining as the argument on the roof.

What he hadn’t expected, was to run right into the masked menace while walking home in the middle of the night.

Remus had just finished a job, something standard and quick, and after wiping the blood from his blades he’d decided to take the long way home. The sun had set, the night air was crisp and relaxing, and it helped Remus forget about the blood stains he needed to wash away.

He’d been cutting through sidestreets, mentally mapping out how to get back to his place. He turned a corner into an alleyway, and—

And there was Spiderman, hunched over himself and leaned against the wall like he’d been using it for support, shaking, gasping, and completely drenched in deep red blood.

Remus froze, and Spidey did too as soon as he registered Deadpool standing just a few paces away, the two of them staring silently for what felt like an eternity.

“Dude,” Remus said when he found his voice. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Spiderman was clutching at his chest, black and purple suit barely able to hide the red stains, leaned heavily against the brick wall as he watched Remus warily. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be stupid. Whose blood is that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped, and his voice was wavering. “Keep walking.”

Remus took a step forward, frowning at the way the vigilante went tense against the wall. He ignored it. “Whose blood is it?” It came out more of a command than a question this time.

“Mostly mine,” Spiderman said, and Remus could see it pooling around his gloves now that he was closer. “It’s fine.”

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“None of your business. Go home.”

Remus tried to get a better look from where he stood, well aware that approaching might not be the best idea right now. “Was it a gun or a knife?”

“It was none of your business and you need to go away.”

Remus watched him, incredulous, because the idiot was barely standing and losing way too much blood way too quickly, and he was pretty sure Spiderman didn’t have Remus’s whole immortality deal.

“You really want to bleed out on the street like some street thug?”

The vigilante hesitated, and Remus listened to the way his breathing was turning into awful sounding wheezes. “I’m...not going to bleed out. I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus challenged, probably a bit more aggressively than was needed for someone who looked like they were about to keel over. “Walk over to me then.”

He’d expected the lack of response, but even though the eyes built into the suit were practically lifeless (he really should get him some more advanced goggles. He’d be a lot more approachable if his eyes weren’t so blank) Remus could still see his whole body tense in fear.

“No,” he said, low and trembling. “Fuck off.”

“Spidey, this isn’t a joke.” Jesus, that was a lot of blood. “You’re gonna bleed out.”

“And you can throw a party—”

“Fucking come here.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he wasn’t going to just stand here bickering with the city’s hero until he dropped dead. But Spidey still shook his head, pressed even further against the wall now, and Remus sighed. “Fine.”

Remus took a few steps forward, initially planning on prying his arms away to get a better look at the wound, but Spiderman flinched back, trying to scramble away like Remus was coming at him with a weapon.

Well, Remus supposed that made sense. He had threatened to kill him a couple times last time they spoke.

“Chill it, Spidey.” Remus crouched a bit, suddenly painfully aware of how much taller he was, carefully holding his hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shot back. Which...yeah, fair. “I know you want to.”

“Does it look like I have a knife in my hand?” Remus asked. “No. Chill out and let me see.”

Spidey didn’t pull away when Remus took his shoulders, but he did flinch as soon as Deadpool touched him, probably involuntarily. Remus ignored it, focusing instead on figuring out where the blood was coming from. It was almost impossible in the dark lighting, especially up against the black suit.

“It’s...not that bad,” Spiderman rasped. “Seriously.”

Remus wasn’t buying that for a second. “What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened,” Spidey said, arms still wrapped firmly around himself. “It...there were five of them and one of them got lucky with a knife.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Remus pulled back, trying to figure out what to do. “You are stupid. Where?”

He only hesitated a moment. “Uh, my chest. I heal fast.”

“Jesus. How fast?”

Spiderman shrugged, then obviously regretted it when it pulled at the stab wound. “Hopefully fast enough,” he said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow or I’ll be dead.”

“Jesus,” Remus said again, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say? “Sit down. Jesus Christ.”

Spidey thankfully did as he said, though Remus suspected it had more to do with the fact that he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore rather than actually following instructions.

He wasn’t fighting anymore, almost limp as Remus took his wrists and moved them to his sides, but he did look like he was ready to bolt the second Deadpool made one wrong move.

Like he wouldn’t fall right on his face and hurt himself worse if he tried.

Remus could see the source of the blood now, a deep gash across his upper chest that had apparently sliced the black and purple suit like butter, still gushing crimson with each passing second.

Shit.

“Alright, uh.” This wasn’t his expertise in the slightest. Other than digging out some bullets, Remus didn't have to tend to his wounds. “I don’t think I have any fabric or...oh, your hoodie. Hand it over.”

Spiderman stared, and if he didn’t hurry up and get with the program Remus was going to knock him out and handle this himself. “Why?”

“Because you’re bleeding out. Give it.”

Spidey at least had the sense to listen and carefully peel the hoodie away from his suit, sliding it down his arms even as his gloved hands shook violently. Remus couldn’t help but wince at the noise Spiderman tried to choke back, because that had to hurt like a bitch.

“Maybe, like...lay down?” Remus suggested. “Yeah, do that. It’ll help.”

Spidey still hesitated, even as the blood continued to flow and he started to slide down against his will. “I...need to see what you’re doing.”

Remus sighed, bunching up the hoodie and pressing it firmly against the wound, ignoring the strangled gasp that came from the vigilante. Blood was quickly soaking through the cloth, and Remus just pressed harder.

“I’m just putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding,” Remus said. “If I wanted to kill you I’d leave you here. If it stops bleeding you’ll heal, right?”

The only answer he got was another wet, trembling gasp when Remus pushed harder, Spiderman’s blood soaking into his gloves. It took a second for him to realize he was grasping at Remus’s wrists, his hold weak.

“H-hopefully,” Spidey managed, and he really didn’t sound great. His eyes were drooping, and Remus figured the biggest danger right now was letting him fall asleep. “Or, you know. I’ll die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Remus said without thinking. “I’m gonna stop the bleeding, you’re gonna heal with whatever weird powers you have, and then you’ll be less of a careless idiot next time.”

A few moments passed without an answer, and for once Remus wasn’t entirely sure how to fill the silence. The only sound between them was Spiderman’s labored, ragged breathing, which at least sounded a bit less shaky and faint as Remus continued to press down.

“What are you doing?” Spidey asked eventually, catching Remus completely off guard with the stupid question. “Why are you...trying to help?”

Remus wasn’t trying to do anything. He was helping. The city’s beloved hero would have been dead five minutes ago if he hadn’t managed to interrupt Remus’s perfectly nice, peaceful walk.

He hadn’t even really thought about it. Remus was an asshole, a murderer for a living, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t the guy who was going to leave New York’s savior to bleed out in an alleyway.

Besides, he’d been the first person Remus had been able to have a somewhat entertaining conversation with in months.

“Somebody’s gotta save everyone,” he eventually settled on, still pressing hard against the wound. “And I refuse to be the city’s only mouthy vigilante.”

Another beat of silence, and for a moment Remus thought he might have fallen asleep. “I don’t...save anyone. And I’m not mouthy.”

“You do,” Remus argued. “And you are.”

“I don’t,” he snapped, and at least he didn’t seem inclined to argue about the mouthy thing. “You do your job better than I do.”

Remus took a moment to look over the bleeding hero. He was weak and trembling, and probably dangerously pale and clammy under that suit. The blood flow had definitely slowed, but it hadn't stopped. There was a good chance he wouldn’t remember a damn thing Remus said to him tonight.

And if he did, it’s not like he really gave a shit, anyway.

“I’m a mercenary,” Remus said. “Anyone can kill someone. It takes something a lot stronger to save them. So shut up and stop being self deprecating.”

Spiderman shuddered when Remus carefully peeled back the bloody hoodie, leaning in to get a better look at where they were at. Either he was just that good at fixing stab wounds, or Spidey’s healing powers were gradually starting to kick in.

Remus decided to go with the former. He deserved it.

“I got someone killed tonight,” Spidey said, quiet and unbearably sad. “She...she died because I wasn’t fast enough, and I didn’t—”

“You can’t save everyone.”

The vigilante pulled his hands away from Remus’s wrists, like he’d just realized he was holding them. “I should have tried harder.”

Remus sighed. “You tried hard enough. You did fine.”

That was apparently the end of the conversation, Spiderman falling back into silence as Remus went back to making sure he didn’t start bleeding all over the place again. He didn’t have anything on him to properly clean it up, he wasn’t sure he even owned a first-aid kit, but Spidey’s breathing was starting to even out, and after about ten minutes or so the blood stopped flowing completely.

“You, uh...you good?”

“I’ll be fine,” Spiderman said, and it didn’t sound like a desperate lie this time. He still looked like shit, but he was able to slowly sit up on his own. “Not dying this time. Just...still hurts.”

They were plunged back into silence, slightly less tense than before but no less uncomfortable. Remus eventually relinquished his hold on the hoodie when Spidey was able to carefully take it from him.

Right, he was fine now. Remus didn’t need to stay, it wasn’t his business anymore. It hadn’t been his business to begin with.

“I...owe you,” Spiderman said, almost like it was strange for him to admit. “So, thank y—”

“Don’t thank me, Spidey.” God, this had been a mistake, hadn’t it? “Seriously. Just buy me a pizza sometime and we’ll call it square.”

Spiderman stared for second, unsteady hands holding his own hood to his chest, but the small laugh that escaped at least sounded genuine, and no longer quite so pained.

“Ok,” he said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Remus hesitated before standing, not really sure if it would be more rude to leave or stay at this point. Spiderman probably didn’t want a mercenary for hire standing over him while he was wounded, whether Remus had saved his life or not.

Remus was still just as far from a hero as the villains Spiderman fought, and both of them had a reputation to keep.

“You sure you’re ok?” Remus asked. “I can like...stay. Or call you an ambulance or...something.”

“I’m good,” Spidey said, sitting up with a small hiss of pain until he was propped up against the wall, breathing still heavy. “You stopped the bleeding, I’ll live. You can go home, Deadpool.”

“Right.” He carefully stepped around the vigilante, still keeping a close eye on his chest to make sure the bleeding didn’t start again. “Just don’t die after all my hard work. My gloves are fucking soaked.”

Spiderman scoffed, but it was more good natured and light than it had been the last time they talked. “You got it.”

Remus kept walking down the alley, only turning around once more before turning the corner at the end. “And don’t forget my pizza, Spidey!”

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