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#vigilante is on floor 5 so this guy has no excuse!!!!
beatcroc · 1 year
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Every day since realizing it I have thought about the fact that fake peppino is the only boss you never see hanging out on other floors of the tower. My first thought was that you just kinda leave him locked in the basement on your way out, but uh
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That door isn't exactly airtight. Even if it was, I'm pretty sure he can just goosh through walls anyway. Am I to be led to assume he's keeping himself in there voluntarily? Why....
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kittydemon9000 · 3 years
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The Beginning of Heatstroke, aka Red's Villain Origin
* crashes down from the ceiling * I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED ONE OF MY 5+ CURRENT WRITING PROJECTS! BEHOLD, A WRITTEN VERSION OF THE 'Red's Villain Origin AU', also known as RVO / Heatstroke AU
To summarize the AU for SPBNR for those that don't now it: 
“Who'd be the biggest conspiracy theorist out of the M!Ninja? The one who drinks 5 hour energy at 3am and spits off the craziest theories and then actually gets it right but nobody gives the theory any merit because the rest of the theories are too crazy?”
The answer: Red / M!Kai
Red: Okay hear me out: Smith is actually an alternative version of one of us sent here from another dimension.
The other M!Ninja: You’re just saying that because Smith’s cool and you want him to be your counterpart
Based on the M!ninja making red cork boards trying to figure out ‘What Is Up With Smith’: Red gets increasingly accurate and nobody will believe him (all pre shogun reveal) and he eventually snaps and takes up a secret villain persona to fight Shogun like 'if they won't believe me I'll do it myself' and it gets awkward when he accidentally does too much damage and catches not only Shogun's attention like planned, but also the rest of the Ninjaforce, and now he has to keep his own identity a secret
So, without further ado, I present... Heatstroke
------------
Red blamed the 5-hour energy coffee blend at 3:00am for this.
It was no surprise that between ‘Operation: What’s Going on with Smith’ & the sudden appearance of Shogun that the resident Bounty red-stringed ‘joke’ cork-board doubled in size and seriousness. It also was no surprise that Red had a corner all to himself and that his theories were… in the words of the others, ‘wildly inaccurate and implausible’.
But this time, he was sure he’d gotten it right.
Smith is Shogun sent here from another continent/planet/dimension with the goal of protecting Ninjago City.
The latest string of laughs and scoffs at his theory was the last straw. He’d show them. He’d prove it!
Which was why he was currently standing on the roof of a noodle house, awkwardly adjusting the spare motorcycle helmet he’d ‘borrowed’ from Nya and painted black and orangey-yellow (red had seemed too obvious). He’d exchanged his Ninjaforce outfit for a soot-burned cross between a bomber jacket and a leather jacket. Down his back jutted a row of flames like the spines of a monster, courtesy of one of Nya & Jay’s unfinished inventions Red had modified- surely nothing bad would come of that!
For tonight, the Red Ninja was off-duty. For tonight, it was Heatstroke’s turn.
He fiddled with one of the weapons he’d ‘lent out’ from Master Wu. It resembled a small arm canon, like a smaller version of the Ultimate Weapon. The plaque under its post had read ‘Elemental Focuser’, which, in cryptic Wu speak, probably translated to ‘you can use an elemental power like something out of Avatar: The Last Airbender’. So far he’d only figured out how to activate a focused jet of fire. Well, at least it was on brand. He hoped it would help him catch Shogun’s attention so he could unmask him.
He’d tried confronting Smith at school, of course. But there were only so many ways of saying ‘are you the new vigilante helping the ninjas’, and Smith has a genuine talent for dancing around the topic. Red could confront him with the name Shogun to get a proper reaction, but that would mean explaining how he knew the name and outing himself as the Red Ninja.
So fake villainy really was the only way.
His plan was to use the Elemental Focuser to cause some minor petty damage, just enough to attract the new vigilante. Perhaps set a trash can on fire, block an alleyway with rocks (if he figured out how to change the setting from fire to earth), small things that could easily be repaired.
Of course, plans were never actually stuck to. One way or another, something was always improvised.
Red’s improvisation just happened to involve him accidentally setting the entire alleyway on fire.
He’d only been aiming for one dumpster, honest! And maybe he’d spotted a couple fliers for a SoG meeting on the ground and happened to burn those too. And a newspaper article blaming Lloyd for the recent Garmadon attack, again. And an article about those ‘Damn Ninja Menaces’ by a S. Sonah Sameson. And-
Okay, so maybe Red had aimed the fire at a few small targets. But just a few! And with good reason and good care, but…
Well, fire liked to burn. Give it enough kindle and it’ll continue to grow, stretching like reaching branches towards each other to join in a massive bonfire. 
So now the entire alleyway was on fire, and Red was panicking. 
He’d luckily chosen an abandoned part of town near the beaches where Shogun sightings seemed most frequent, but with the stupid Elemental Focuser not switching from fire mode to water mode or ice mode or something that didn’t have the potential to burn Ninjago City to the ground, Red had no way of stopping the flames.
And more flames meant more destruction which meant a bigger audience.
Which was why his previously muted comm suddenly flared to life, the only warning Red had before Nya’s water strider mech slid around the corner.
Red scrambled onto a roof as the mech drove past, spraying water at the bonfire to dose it. His sigh of relief was just as quickly dosed as Lloyd’s voice came over the comms; “Status, Grey?”
“Flames are out,” Nya replied. “Pursing the joker that set it ablaze.”
Uh oh. Red took off across the roof, leaping from building to building. Tiles creaked, pebbled and dust scattering underfoot. The sounds of the mech’s engine roaring behind him echoed through alleyways below to create the illusion the mech was everywhere at once. 
As the chase grew on, more mechs started to join in. Red ducked into a narrow avenue to avoid Zane’s tank, then under a cafe overhang to throw off Jay and Lloyd. His heart hammered in his chest and he groaned, filling the inside of the motorcycle helmet with steam. Saying this was going ‘bad’ would be the understatement of the century. 
What had he been thinking? Oh wait: he hadn’t. Seriously? ‘Oh I’ll just pretend to be a villain real quick, that should get Shogun’s attention and not the attention of literally my entire team of fellow ninjas!’ Stupid, impulsive, this was why everyone was always calling the red ninja the ‘hothead’ when he really tried not to be- Lloyd’s voice over the comms snapped him from his thoughts. “I can’t catch them! It’s like they know our every move!”
Red winced as he climbed up a banister and leapt from balcony to balcony. Sorry, Lloyd. 
He didn’t miss how the others asked Nya where Red was. And how she made up excuses the others bought so easily- granted, he’d told those excuses to his sister before setting his plan into motion, but still, ouch. They acted like he was simply being at best too busy and at worst lazy and selfish.
He just wanted them to know the truth! Why couldn’t they at least try to believe him when-
Of course, that was when Shogun dropped out of the sky and tackled him.
Red shouted with surprise as he tumbled down from the second floor, slamming into a few softer bags of garbage to break his fall before rolling and slamming into the unforgiving concrete. A crack formed in his vision as the visor of his motorbike helmet smacked into the concrete ground. One of the fire jets on his back sputtered and sparked, sending a thin wisp of smoke into the air.
Shogun pinned his wrists to the ground and growled. “Who are you?”
Red tried to break free, agony turning his muscles and bones to fire with the movement after his fall, but the vigilante was too strong. Damn, how often did this guy train?
“Who am I?” Red said, a nervous tinge to his voice. He quickly smoothed it over with faked confidence. “Who are you? Who are all of us, really?”
Shogun narrowed his eyes behind his hood. “Did Garmadon send you? Or someone else?”
Red sputtered. Really, the nerve! Garmadon? The thought turned his insides to disgusting mud. “Nobody sent me!”
“Then why are you here?” Shogun spat.
“Why am I here?” Why was he here again? Oh right, the bright idea on how to reveal that Shogun was Smith. “It’s, uh… a valid reason! That I don’t have to tell you!” He tried for a villainous laugh. Stay in character, don’t blow your cover, you got this!
Shogun was unimpressed. “Nearly burning down my home was a valid reason?”
“Well, I wasn’t trying to set everything on- wait, WHAT?” Uh oh. “You LIVE here?”
Now it was Shogun’s turn to look uncomfortable, though the expression was quickly wiped from his face. “Nothing wrong with this district.” 
Red nodded. “‘Course not. Uh, sorry about that… wasn’t my intention, I swear.”
Shoot, he could hear Jay’s jet getting closer. He had to get out of here, but Shogun, annoyingly, didn’t seem to be in the mood to simply let him go. “Then what is your intention?”
“Well, for starters, it’s getting out of here. This really isn’t going to plan and I’d rather just be home right now, or even inventing a time machine like in that book ‘Hands of Time’ to slap my past self in the face for even thinking about this stupid idea in the first place-“
Jay wasn’t the only one that could ramble under pressure, it seemed.
Shogun leaned closer. “What idea?”
Red shrugged as best he could with how he was pinned to the ground. “Well, for starters, I just wanted to prove to my friends that you’re Smith, and things just kinda escalated from-”
The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he said. 
Shogun lurched back, letting go of him. His eyes betrayed a kaleidoscope of emotions; surprise, worry, suspicious, hurt, fear, realization. 
“…Kai?”
Well, f!ck.
“I-“
Red was about to badly attempt to bullsh!t his way out of his identity reveal before it suddenly dawned on him that Shogun had not denied his theory. 
Which meant Shogun was Smith.
And it also meant Smith instantly recognized him as Kai, which, considering his disguise, was aptly concerning. Sure, he was the first one in his group of friends people would think to do something this extreme but give him some credit! Zane was a regular detective, he’d do the same if it meant answers! Or, well, at least something similar. And Nya could be an adrenaline seeker. And Lloyd- well, maybe not Lloyd. Or Jay, either. Cole had his head just enough on his shoulders that he probably wouldn’t do this either.
But come on, instantly guessing it?
Well, at least Smith/Shogun didn’t know Kai was the Red Ninja. That would be a catastrophe.
Right. Back to the current catastrophe at hand.
Shogun- Smith- still had a look as if he’d been slapped, and Red hated it. He hadn’t meant to hurt his friend. Shogun… Shogun hadn’t wanted them to find out his identity. And then Red had gone and done it, just to prove that he could be the smart one, or a leader, or the protector so they didn’t get hurt, or literally anything but just the ‘hotheaded one’. 
…And he’d done it in the most hotheaded, impulsive way possible.
He really was an idiot.
The cracked helmet hid the look on his face, a twisted mess of distraught and shame. But it didn’t help hide how he took stumbled to his feet and away from Smith, nervous that any second he’d spill another mistake and mess up again, like how he always freaking messed up on everything. Don’t pick this fight, interject there instead, no, not there, idiot, there, FMS why are you so useless-
Focus, focus.
Lloyd’s voice, sharp in the intercom and full of static from his tumble, snapped him from his thoughts. “Anyone got eyes on the arsonist?”
Red caught Smith’s eye as he raised his hand to his own communicator. He was so screwed, so busted, so doomed… Smith would report it, and the others would know, and they’d think he was just messing around in an alleyway with some stolen devices and weapons out of curiosity or rage, - and-
“None yet, still looking.”
…What?
Smith stared at him, gaze searching. He looked shaken, more so than Red- who’d just taken a fall from a second story, mind you, it was a miracle he wasn’t more injured than a couple small scrapes and some future bruises-, yet everything from the set of his jaw to the softening of his furrowed brows suggested a change in emotions. Well, not quite change; more like repress and replace.
“You wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you.”
Red flushed, hand instinctually clamping into a tight fist at his side. The still-working fire jets on his back ignited without him pressing any buttons; faulty activation from the fall or something. 
Palms up and hands raised, Smith silently asked to defuse the situation. “Didn’t mean it as an insult. This wasn’t about venting some anger, was it.”
Red’s lack of response only confirmed it. Smith continued. “I won’t say anything about this if you don’t tell anyone my identity. Deal? I know finding it out was important to you, but-“
“Deal,” Red interrupted. Guilt ate away at his core, like a wave of water dousing a candle. “Smith, I-“ He swallowed hard and stared at the alley floor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… to…”
Smith’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder and he flinched before relaxing as Smith didn’t move further, nor did the grip tighten. “I’m a little hurt, you’re right. But I’m not mad. And I won’t tell the others, so you can relax. But you better get out of here and get yourself an alibi. We can talk at school or something.”
Wow, he was handling this rather calmly. Red was struck by the sudden memory of- what did Jay call the word? Right. Compartmentalizing. That… wasn’t healthy. But at the roar of Lloyd’s mech somewhere nearby, he didn’t comment further. Instead, he shot Smith a grateful nod and ran down the alley, sticking to the shadows and blind spots of the flying mechs and the tight alleyways where the land mechs couldn’t reach him. 
When he got home, miraculously without further incident (though Shogun leading the others on a wild goose chase over the comms certainly helped there), he ditched the outfit in a bag hidden beneath a loose floorboard in the shed. He’d return the weapon to Master Wu’s ship later, and… well, hope Nya never searched for the missing supplies. There wasn’t a way of fixing it without involving her or Jay, and neither was an option.
Heatstroke was back off duty, and so was the Red Ninja.
For now, he could just be Kai Smith. And there wasn’t any issue with that.
Right?
—————
yooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THIS IS AMAZING REHJJGFHDESFXJVZ
and ah yes, good ol trauma and compartmentalizing, we love to see it
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lady-literature · 4 years
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for us to collide (part 4)
anyway who actually expected me to end this thing in 4 chapters lol
rip me ig
Read on Ao3 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 (final) | deleted scene
After the not-so-impromptu interrogation courtesy of her friends (because there was no way they hadn’t planned that, it was too coordinated) Robin doesn’t stop by for two weeks.
Which is… fine. Marinette is plenty busy anyways. The extra time she has free now that she isn’t entertaining a bratty vigilante, goes to more productive uses of her time. Like watching bad horror movies with her friends and jeering at the horrible acting and special effects.
(Red Hood stops by in the middle of watching Grizzly Rage and proceeds to rant for twenty minutes about ‘shitty, unrealistic blood splatters’. Marinette has long since passed the point of being worried about it.)
So, yeah. She doesn’t see Robin.
But Damian, oddly enough, seeks her out.
It’s early, and there isn’t anyone else in the studio right now which means Marinette has her music blasting and she’s humming along as she hand paints silk for Clara’s dress. It’s loud and she’s in her zone, so it’s only by Tikki warning her that she realizes someone entered her sanctuary.
Her eyebrows raise when she sees who it is.
“Uh, bonjour Damian," she greets confusedly, reaching over to lower the volume on her speakers. "I hadn’t expected to see you here. Is there something you need?”
He stops before her workstation, only slightly bigger than the ones the rest of her staff use due to the sheer amount of open commissions she normally has. She has an actual office on this floor, but Chloé uses it more than she does. Marinette likes the open space and being around her designers more than she likes the privacy.
His eyes catch on the two bouquets of flowers she’s yet to take home, neither of which have even begun to wilt—and likely won’t. (She’ll have to take them home soon before people start asking questions.)
“I was called here by Father, but he’s currently indisposed. I’ve been told to wait.”
She waits a moment for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, she asks, “So you came to visit me?”
“Yours is the only tolerable presence to be found.” His lips purse, and he crosses his arms. “And that includes that imbecile Drake who is no doubt still in his office like the pitiful insomniac he is.”
Her tongue is already halfway around a joke about excuses—she didn’t befriend Felix for nothing, okay? She knows how people like Damian work—when she realizes what he just said.
“Wait. Tim’s been here all night?”
Damian snorts. “He certainly didn’t return to the manor.”
She’s out of her seat in an instant, frowning and muttering up a storm as she rummages through the storage cubes pushed up against the far wall. She has a blanket, pillow and plain cotton shirt in her hands before Damian registers that she even moved.
“I’m going to kill your brother,” she says simply. “Would you like to come with?”
She’s gotten closer to Tim since working in Wayne Tower. He’s a notorious recluse and rarely leaves his office when he’s in the building, but Marinette makes it a point to visit him during lunch and before she leaves for the night.
He isn’t one of her Waynes, but he is a Wayne and her Waynes love and care for him so there’s not much of a difference really. She does like to think they might be something close to friends at this point though. And if the way Tim comes down to visit whenever he ventures out of his office means something, she might even be right.
Another thing that should be noted, is that Marinette is very much a ‘ride or die’ kind of person when it comes to the people she cares about. She will ruthlessly bully her loved ones into taking better care of themselves on threat of death because she is the semi-hypocritical mom friend and damn proud of it.
Damian looks her up and down, eyes lingering on the items in her hands and the determined set to her jaw and says, “Of course.” Then he’s plucking her things from her hands, offering her his arm and saying, “Shall we?”
Marinette laughs as she loops her arm with his. “We shall.”
***
She spends ten minutes scolding Tim before wrangling him onto the couch in his office and wrapping him up in the blanket so tightly he’d need to be an escape artist to get out of it. He tries to struggle anyway, but Marinette has too much practice at this and he doesn’t stand a chance in hell.
Damian stands at her shoulder and smirks the entire time, eyes dancing with amusement as she forces the CEO of Wayne Enterprises to take a fucking nap. Then, she’s treated to the sound of his surprised laughter as she begins switching out all of Tim’s regular coffee for magic-decaf—not that Damian knows it’s magic.
(By the devilish smirk playing at his lips, she’s starting to think that maybe Damian really is just as sadistic as Duke and Jason say he is.)
***
Damian starts dropping by more often after that (read: starts dropping by at all). Not that Marinette minds. She quite likes his company, actually.
He normally stops by first thing in the morning when Marinette is the only one in the workshop, walking in like he owns the place. For the first couple days, he asks about Ladybug and the rest of Paris’ Court, claiming that he’s curious about them.
She answers them, but only as far as she’d answer them for any reporter and is careful not to give away any sensitive information not known to the public. He gets a bit frustrated at one point, complaining that she must know more, but she stays stubbornly silent about it and, sometimes, steers the conversation deftly to the Great Bat and his Flock instead.
He eventually stops asking about the Parisian superheroes and instead their morning conversations turn to a thousand random things. Complaints and anecdotes and a silly back and forth between the two.
Marinette’s never been much of a morning person but having Damian there to keep her company is… nice.
She almost finds herself looking forward to mornings now.
***
When her Waynes learn that she’s started a food kitchen and makes a habit of spending her weekend there, they immediately insist on joining her, despite her protests.
“You guys really don’t have to do this,” she says even though the three of them are already in their aprons and Cass is eyeing the boucher, Vivian, and her collection of knives with glittering interest.
Duke grins at her, “We know, M. But we want to.”
Jason finally turns back to her from where he’s been staring at the kitchen with something just shy of awe on his face. “You’re downright incredible, you know that?” he waves a hand out at the seating area, and then at the people in the kitchen assembling the healthiest and cost-efficient meals she and Felix could find after days spent researching. “I would’ve killed for something like this when I was on the streets.”
“It’s not just me who’s got this up and running-” she tries protesting but then Fiona, the woman Marinette actually put in charge of this place, is at her side and all but shoving the four of them into stations.
Marinette ends up by the pastries, like always, and she can see Jason making sandwiches. Duke's been roped into making eggs and bean casseroles and Cass, by some grace, actually ended up by Vivian and is having a blast cutting up all the meats as fast as she can.
They don’t stop until lunch, all four of them helping prepare meals for the upcoming week in bulk. After, they all go out for ice cream by the pier and Jason smears chocolate on her nose and Duke carries her around on his back when she complains about being tired.
Cass takes pictures of it all and later, Marinette gets them all printed out.
It ends up being a really good day.
***
The buzz from the charity gala and all the press regarding her and Damian’s non-existent relationship had calmed down weeks ago. There was still the odd article about Marinette being seen with her odd assortment of Waynes and the newspapers still called her ridiculous names when they got a picture, but it was about as close to normal as she gets.
The quiet lulled her into a false sense of security.
Ice Prince and Sweetheart Finally Seen on Date: Fairy Tale Romance or Publicity Stunt?
The ‘date’ in question was a coffee and lunch run for her designers and also Tim (because kwami knew he'd work through lunch if allowed).
Damian normally didn’t stay past Lilliane arriving in the morning (the poor dear was chronically late and always the last to arrive) but he hadn’t shown up until after she came that day and overcompensated by hours—which she hadn't minded. He kept to the fringes of her workspace and didn't distract her, instead focusing on his own thing. She wasn’t quite sure what he was up to, but she knew he was switching between his computer and sketchpad every so often.
(She's pretty sure he was hiding from Dick for some reason. He’s the only Wayne brother who doesn’t visit her at work, seeing as they have their bi-weekly gymnastic sessions; recently, with the addition of Mar’i, who still calls her ‘twin’ and whom Marinette still adores.)
And then lunch had rolled around, and it was Marinette’s turn to go out so she brought Damian with since he was still there.
They were out together for forty-five minutes. Tops.
“Why me?” she whines into the surface of her desk.
Damian, the asshole, just laughs at her and she can’t even be mad about it because he’s only just started laughing around her and not hiding behind so many of his walls. He laughs and Marinette knows it's precious so instead of shooting him the glower he deserves, she finds herself having to hide the smile slowly creeping on her face.
***
They’re splashed across the papers again less than a week later, only this time she has her Waynes there too.
Marinette's wearing her bright red sundress and she's somehow convinced Damian to wear a jacket with elaborate crowns and snowflakes embroidered up the sides. Because, as Chloé says: if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
They see the camera this time and the photo splashed across the page the next day is of Marinette laughing with Jason’s arm slung across her shoulders as both he and Damian flip off the camera. Meanwhile, Duke and Cass stand just far enough in frame to capture their expressions of pain and amusement respectively.
(Marinette makes a mental note to order apology gift baskets for the PR department.)
There are a lot of headlines the next day about Marinette’s ‘harem of Waynes’ and how she’s a ‘horrible influence on such bright children’. She spends about ten minutes trying to decide whether she should be horrified or laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it and eventually decides on both.
Adrien, the little shit, sees the headline and immediately prints it out to hang in her kitchen.
It reappears every time she tries to take it down.
***
Gotham does not smile upon daytime heroes.
Not to say that Gotham really smiles on anyone, but it’s especially vicious to those that think they’re owed anything. She’s heard the way Gothamites talk about Superman and The Flash—it’s not exactly what one would call adoring.
But Ladybug's been a daytime hero her entire career and it is not difficult to see that there's something distinctly different about the way daytime heroes and Gotham’s vigilantes operate.
Something more vicious, maybe; something more restrained.
Without the light of day and without the people’s eyes watching them at every moment, the Gotham Bats have become something else entirely.
Signal, their Daytime Protector, is especially strange.
A bat who's meta, straddling the line between day and night. The Day Patrol, trained by the night.
Sometimes, when she and Signal talk about heroing, there is such an odd type of disconnect that it throws her. Nothing horrible or major, but little things she’s sure she wouldn’t notice if she wasn’t so intimately familiar with it all herself.
They don’t always talk about heroing though. After two months, Ladybug is proud to say she seems to be worming her way past his outer shell nicely. He tried so hard to keep his distance from her, but Ladybug’s always liked a challenge, and it isn’t long before she has him relaxing around her. 
Well, for a definition of relax anyway. He's still a bat after all.
But then, it’s pretty easy to get past Signal’s barriers when she’s already had practice breaking through the more stubborn bats like Robin and, to an extent, Hood. Not that Signal, or any of the bats, know that.
Which, speaking of the bats, isn’t it a bit weird she’s only met three spread across two of her alter egos? As Ladybug, she’d expect to be hounded by a few of them but the only one she’s met is Signal. She can’t decide if it’s because he’s the only one that operates in the daylight, or if they just don’t want to spook her into running or something.
Either way, they’re going to start giving her a complex. She’s heard so much about the rest of the Batfamily, and not one of them even wants to meet her? Either her?
(Maybe Marinette should ask Robin and Hood what’s up with that? The way they talk about how nosy Red Robin is, she’s surprised he didn’t drop by months ago and- is it weird that she’s offended by vigilantes not prying into her private life?
…Probably.)
***
Marinette blinks, stopping dead in her tracks.
Damian's on her fainting couch, sketchpad in his lap as he waits for her.
“Why are you wearing a beanie?” she blurts out instead of greeting him like a normal person. "You never wear beanies."
Luckily, Damian scowls at her question rather than at her. It’s a subtle but very important difference.
“Sorry,” she apologizes anyway, putting her bag down. “I haven't had coffee yet.”
He hums, then nods to her desk where she finds a steaming to-go mug. Her face lights up and she quickly snatches it, breathing deeply the lovely aroma. “You’re a godsend.”
That brings a quirk to his lips, closer to a smirk than a smile, but progress nonetheless.
After a moment, where she sips at her overly sugary monstrosity—just the way she likes it, when had Damian even noticed that?—and he continues sketching she asks again. “Okay but, I actually am kinda curious. What’s up with the hat?”
He sighs heavily, closing his pad. “It’s… better than the alternative.”
Marinette snorts. “Alternative to what? A top hat?” But instead of snapping back like she expects, he just continues to frown. Immediately, her lips turn down into a concerned frown. “Is there something wrong?”
“Yes,” he grounds out and Marinette puts her coffee down. She’s just about to open her mouth and say something else when he reaches up and rips the beanie off his head.
For the second time in less than five minutes, she stops dead.
Marinette opens her mouth. Closes it. Blinks, but the scene doesn't change.
His hair is still blue.
Damian Wayne's hair is blue.
Damian Wayne’s hair is vibrantly electric blue.
Her hand shoots up to cover her mouth as she tries to stifle her giggles.
Damian’s scowl deepens. He moves to shove his ridiculous beanie back on his head but her hand snaps out before he can.
“No! No, I’m sorry I just-” she giggles again. “You looked so upset by it and you took me by surprise. I like it!”
He glares up at her, still sat on the fainting couch so it’s her who has the height advantage for once.
“Don’t patronize me.”
She rolls her eyes, the hand that wasn’t settled on his arm reaching up to touch the bright strands. It's slow enough that he can stop her, but he, surprisingly, makes no move to.
His hair is a lot softer than she expects it to be. But she supposes he didn’t use that gel stuff today, planning on keeping his hair under a hat the whole time.
“It looks good on you,” she says softly.
He snorts disbelievingly and she smacks his shoulder lightly. “It’s true! I swear you could look good in any color.” She clicks her tongue longingly. “I wish I had your skin tone. I’m too pale to wear pastels like I want.”
He wrinkles his nose at her. “Pastels?”
“Oh you hush,” she quips, finally pulling her hand from his hair. “Anyway, if you don’t like it, why’d you dye it blue in the first place?”
“I… lost a wager with Todd.”
She laughs, starting to move around and get ready for the day. She doesn’t have any meetings scheduled, which means she gets the whole day to create. She’s pretty excited about it.
“I should’ve guessed it was Jason’s doing.”
Damian shrugs, settling back into the cushions. He drapes himself across them in a way that’s effortlessly elegant and like he’s ready to be photographed for a magazine cover or something. Must all her friends be so pretty? It’s playing hell on her self-esteem.
“But blue is your favorite color, right? So there’s that at least.”
Damian hums. “Todd had threatened to dye it pink or some other equally garish color.”
“Hey!” she exclaims in mock outrage. “What’s wrong with pink? I’ve been wanting to dye my hair pink for ages.”
“Nothing. It’s just simply not a color I appreciate.” He makes a face. “Like orange.”
Marinette huffs, but there’s a smile on her lips. It's quiet for a moment, for long enough that she thinks the conversation's been dropped. But then-
“Why don’t you?”
“Huh?”
“Why haven’t you dyed your hair?” he repeats. “Your friends—Couffaine and… Kubdel? They both have colored hair.”
Marinette shrugs. “I dunno. Never got around to it I guess. I suppose I could do it now. Dye mine in solidarity,” she jokes. “Oh! We could match even! Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“I thought you wanted pink?”
“Well, yeah. But blue is nice too. Besides,” she smiles wryly over her shoulder, “you just said pink was ‘garish’.”
Damian frowns slightly, shaking his head, “On me, perhaps. But I think you’d look very fetching in pink.”
“Oh,” Marinette pauses, feeling her face grow warm at the sudden compliment. “Well- Uh, pink it is, then.”
***
(Damian watches the blush rise on her cheeks as she turns away to try and hide it. Yes, he can’t help but think, fetching in pink, indeed.)
***
Luka insists on being the one to dye her hair, citing that he’s the one who had dibs all these years, but Alix and Jason both all but demand to be there too.
Her bathroom is not big enough for all four of them to sit in.
Not a single one of them cares.
Cass and Duke ask for progress pics along with Uncle Jay, and all her Parisian friends cycle through standing at the bathroom door to see how it's going.
The constant stream of people looking at her makes her feel not unlike an animal at a zoo. (When she wryly tells this to Alix, all she gets is her friend cackling on the ground.)
But, after all the bleaching and conditioning and waiting, she stares into the mirror with soft pink hair the color of bubblegum and thinks, yeah, it was worth it.
She thinks it again when Damian walks in the next day and almost trips over his own feet.
(She’s also wearing her Robin themed sundress, complete with hood, matching boots and personal touches not found on the mass-produced version—but Marinette doesn’t know why that would be relevant.)
Her favorite reaction to her new hair color though is, by far, Mar’i’s.
Marinette doesn’t see the young Grayson until a week later when she’s invited to the monthly family dinner Alfred insists all the Waynes attend—which includes her now, apparently (she tries not to show how pleased she is by that).
She arrived with Damian, who was kind enough to pick Tim and her up from work, and Mar’i takes one look at Damian and her standing next to one another before she starts babbling excitedly about Lilo and Stitch and Angel. A character who is—apparently—Stitch’s girlfriend and the complimentary pink to his blue.
Marinette is momentarily surprised, but Mar’i’s enthusiasm is contagious and it isn’t long before the rest of the Waynes are teasingly calling them Angel and Stitch. Marinette thinks it’s all very funny and adorable.
Damian, on the other hand, most certainly does not and threatens everyone who calls him that ‘ridiculous nickname’ with graphic depictions of bodily harm.
‘Angel’, oddly enough, sticks for Marinette. She finds she kind of likes it.
***
Later, Damian asks her about nicknames.
Well, he calls them ‘asinine titles’ and doesn’t so much ask as demand she explain why she allows anyone to call her by them seeing as she has a ‘perfectly serviceable name,’ in his opinion.
Ignoring the fact that she’s heard Dick call him multiple nicknames he hadn’t protested to, she says, “Well, I guess it’s that everyone uses Marinette. A nickname is something… special. A little more personal, I guess. And, I dunno. My parents named me Marinette, but it’s nice to share something between other people. And it shows they care.”
Damian looks confused after she’s done, but also thoughtful. He doesn’t say anything to that and Marinette doesn’t really expect anything to come of it.
She's proven wrong when, a week later, Damian calls her Starling instead of Marinette.
(And the transition from Dupain-Cheng to Marinette had been enough to make her beam—this is just ridiculous.)
***
When Robin disappears a second time, Marinette doesn’t get the chance to notice his absence on her own. He’s only stopped showing up four days ago—which is longer than normal, but not unheard of—when she hears unfamiliar voices on her balcony.
Looking out, she finds three semi-familiar individuals clustered around the plate of treats she leaves out for Robin and Hood.
Nightwing and Red Robin are both stuffing their faces full of the fruit tarts she had made while Spoiler glares at them and seems to be cursing the fact that her mask covers her mouth the same way Hood always does when she makes those raspberry scones he likes.
The scene is… odd. For many reasons but most pressingly that their arrival has come out of nowhere.
“Well,” Nightwing explains when she asks, “We wanted to visit ages ago, but baby bird threatened to stab us all if we tried.”
“He’s very… particular about you,” Red Robin tacks on while Spoiler nods sagely like she hasn’t crafted some strange straw monstrosity just so she can drink tea while still wearing her mask. Red Robin has one too, but his for the aesthetic rather than out of necessity.
Marinette stares at the three of them. “That… does not explain why you are here now.”
“Robin can’t stop us now, obviously,” Red Robin says casually, like he hasn't just kicked her heart into high gear with a few words.
“What? Why?” she demands, trying very hard not to sound panicked. “Is he okay? Was he hurt?”
Red Robin blinks, going quiet in that way Hood and Robin do when they’re judging her just a bit. She hates this family.
“No, he’s… fine.”
“B’s just benched him for the time being,” Nightwing helpfully supplies, amusement flickering at the edges of his lips. “He’s a little too… conspicuous at the moment.”
Marinette’s shoulders relax even as her brows furrow. Conspicuous? What in the world is that supposed to mean?
“Does that mean he won’t be coming around for a while?” she asks before she can think better of it.
The three vigilantes in front of her share a look before Spoiler says, “Probably. But the gremlin’s never been one to sit still so who knows?” she smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners as she leans toward Marinette conspiratorially. “But don’t worry. We can keep you company in the meantime!”
“We’re much better company than the demon anyway. Certainly less insulting.”
“Oh, he’s not that bad. He’s an ass, for sure, but you can tell when he means it and when he’s just stumbling over himself.” Marinette smiles fondly, “For someone so dignified, he trips over his tongue quite often.”
Now the vigilantes are really staring at her. She’s starting to feel pretty uncomfortable about it all when Nightwing beams at her, jumping up from his seat to sweep her into a hug. It startles her, but she doesn’t push him away, instead laughing at the sudden affection.
“Oh you really are perfect!” he exclaims, setting her down and still grinning like an absolute lunatic.
She’s smiling, because Nightwing’s joy is infectious, but she's even more confused than before. And then, before she can ask what he means, Red Robin’s wrist computer lights up—and damn, isn’t that cool? Marinette wonders if Tikki could do something like that for the Ladybug suit—and the three are moving to swing back out into the night.
She waves them off and they all promise to visit again.
Marinette shakes her head before going back inside with the empty pastry plate and four empty mugs.
***
Damian knows of Marinette’s friends of course. It'd take more effort not to when she talks about them every chance she gets and tells him all the wild stories about their escapades and misadventures.
(They also all came up in the background check he ran on her when they first met.)
Most of her friends are exceedingly normal oddly enough. Well, they’re all mildly famous and the leaders of their various fields, but they’re just civilians.
The only exceptions being, Bourgeois, Agreste, and Graham de Vanily.
Bourgeois is a former hero like Marinette, only she doesn't seem to still be in contact with the Parisian Court. All the articles he could find spoke about how Queen Bee was deemed unfit for her mantle and later replaced by the new bee hero, Ambrosia. Agreste was caught up in the scandal of his father being Hawkmoth, but he was found innocent and ignorant of his father's crimes (something Damian made sure to confirm). He now works at and is being groomed to own the bakery Marinette's parents run, seeing as their daughter has little interest to do it herself.
And finally, Graham de Vanily, Agreste's cousin, has a history of causing trouble wherever he goes. Nothing villainous, and rarely even malicious, but there's something about him that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Not everything is as it seems with the Graham de Vanily heir.
Besides those three outliers, Marinette's friends seem to be untouched by the vigilante life. Which means he thinks they must be utterly boring.
Only, when her friends start coming around to visit and drag her out for lunch or some other random outing, Damian keeps finding himself baffled by each of them.
They act strangely and with a dangerous air none of them should possess, except for Tsurugi. The questions they ask him are strange and the jokes they make have no sense. He's been warned about how he better treat Marinette so many times, he's started to lose count. (Which is ridiculous. He treats her just fine and would never intentionally harm her. What are they trying to insinuate?)
But, by far, his most memorable encounter is with Lahiffe. A veritable wolf in sheep's clothing.
Marinette is excitedly babbling about her newest idea for her summer collection, pressed up against him on the chaise and practically shoving her sketches in his face as she demands his critique and thoughts.
Her hands are waving every which way and, on more than one occasion, he has to quickly lean back so she doesn't hit him in the face.
He’s focusing on what she’s saying so much—because she has a habit of forgetting things if she doesn’t write them down and needs someone to remind her of the ideas she had at a later time—that he doesn’t even realize Lahiffe is there until he clears his throat.
Marinette jumps, almost elbowing him in the stomach. “Nino!” she shouts, springing up and flinging herself at the other man who catches her like this is something she does often.
“Heya, Nettie.”
“Wait- what are you doing here? You’re not-” she jolts back to look at Lahiffe’s amused expression. “Oh kwami, is it time already? Shit. I wasn’t paying attention. I’m so sorry! I have to give this one thing to Publishing but then I promise we can go, okay? Like, just five minutes!”
She's already moving before she finishes speaking, sweeping up papers and rearranging files and putting things away with all the swiftness and agility of a speedster. Damian watches her go about her routine, occasionally handing her something she’s dropped or pointing out a thing she’s missed, weaving around her chaos with practiced ease.
Then she’s sweeping out of the office with a distracted “be right back!” and he’s alone with Lahiffe.
The second Marinette leaves, the man’s attention swings onto him with a strange weight. For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything and Damian’s hackles raise with every passing second.
He doesn’t snap at him though, because he’s one of Marinette’s friends. Insulting him would only serve to make her upset and that’s something Damian's been trying to avoid causing as of late.
“Man,” Lahiffe says at last. “Alix wasn’t kidding about the whole besotted thing, huh?”
Damian rears back, straightening up to his full height. “I beg your pardon?”
Lahiffe laughs and waves his hand about like that’s supposed to mean something. “Ah, no need to be embarrassed about it, dude. You’re far from the first of us to fall for her charms.”
“What.”
“Yeah, we've all been there. I think over half of the Paris crew crushed on her at some point, including myself. None of us are into her like that anymore, so as long as you treat her right, you got nothing to worry about."
“I’m not- I'm not interested in Marinette,” Damian tries to protest but Lahiffe just calmly steamrolls over him.
“Nah. Everyone loves Nettie. It’s universal law or something. First, there was me and Adrien, then Luka—who she actually liked back for a while there but are now practically siblings. Chloé liked her in collége, but she hadn’t really come to terms with that at the time. Alix might’ve, but she’s pretty grey-ace and fluctuates on the romance points, so who knows.
“Oh! And Nath. He also snagged a date with her, but he was an Akuma at the time so I’m not technically sure that it counts. And he’s with Marc now anyway. Thinking of adopting a kid, last I heard. Anyway- my point was: everyone loves Nettie. And don’t bother trying to fight it, because it only makes her pull of gravity worse.”
Lahiffe then claps him on the shoulder like their talk amiable and not the most confusing speech Damian’s ever heard.
And then he doesn’t even get to say anything to that because Marinette is sprinting back through the door, grabbing her jacket and bag, telling him goodbye, and dragging Lahiffe out to who knows where.
Damian stands there longer than he cares to admit trying to make the world make sense again.
***
A week and a half after she learned Robin was benched, Damian catches her staring off into space as she doodles tiny robins in the margins of her sketchbook.
He gives her an odd look when she scrambles to hide them, blushing hotly and babbling about how she’s “Just fine! Nothing to worry about! I’m just, maybe, perhaps, a little worried for a friend even though I shouldn’t be, because his family says he’s just fine and-”
He looks contemplative when he leaves that day, but he didn’t ask about her outburst, so she extends the same courtesy to him.
***
That night, Robin returns.
“What,” she says around the laughter threatening to bubble out of her throat, “are you wearing?”
Robin scowls from behind the full cowl he has on that she’s pretty sure belongs to Red Robin. It makes him look a whole ten years older and she can’t get over how ridiculous he looks. If he keeps doing stupid things with his face while wearing that monstrosity, she is definitely going to laugh at him.
“What are you wearing?” he shoots back petulantly.
She blinks in confusion, then realizes she’s still wearing her Red Hood inspired jacket right now. Tan colored fake leather with fuzzy, red inner lining, done with all the same pockets, buttons, and zippers Red Hood has on his own jacket. It looks almost exactly like the jacket she fixed for him all that time ago, except she's also added a soft, crimson hood and his own personal bat symbol stitched across her shoulder blades.
As far as things she's designed goes, this is one of her simpler ones. It's nothing like the elaborate creations she makes for the Ambrosia or Ryuko themed items.
But Red Hood was a simple kind of person, and she likes that it’s reflected in her work.
Robin doesn't seem to agree if the poorly concealed disdain on his face means anything.
“What?” she asks teasingly, “You jealous?”
He scoffs and looks off to the side. “Of course not. I simply do not understand why you’d want anything to do with that simpleton. Especially not when I know you have clothing articles referencing far superior individuals.”
She snorts good-naturedly, "What 'individuals'? You mean you?"
The way he raises his nose self importantly is answer enough, and she can't stop herself from rolling his eyes. "Well, it's certainly a start. But I'm not the only one."
"Oh, yeah? And who else is marvelous enough to stand on the same level as you?"
"Multimouse."
Her mouth goes dry, and she can tell Robin is pointedly not looking at her.
“Come inside,” she blurts in lieu of all the things she really wants to say—which are mostly just embarrassing variations of I missed you. “I can, uh, make us tea. If you want.”
It's the first time she’s ever invited him inside and she can see the small bit of shock on his face—well, what she can see of it anyway—before he schools it.
“Yes,” he says in a tone of voice that implies it was his idea in the first place. “That sounds… good.”
She steps aside, allowing him to pass her by into the flat. Only instead of just walking past her, he stops halfway through the doorway and stares at her. She’s about to ask what’s wrong when he reaches out with his hand to gently grab a lock of her hair.
“Pink suits you, by the way.”
She quirks her lips, “Yeah? You don’t think it’s… too much?”
The corners of his mouth turn down, “Absolutely not. You look…” he trails off, mouth flattening into a line and dropping his hand.
She blinks at the odd behavior. “Nice?” she offers tentatively.
He nods, but it’s a little jerky and strange. But before she can ask about it, he’s already turning to enter her flat like he owns the place, remarking about her choices of tea and if she’s finally acquired an ‘adequate teapot’.
She shakes off the moment and goes in to follow him before he wrecks her kitchen in his careless search for tea supplies.
***
MinnieMouse: COME GET YALL JUICE
and by juice i mean me
I still do not have an american license
JaneAustenStanAccount: what do we get out of it?
MinnieMouse: ???
the pleasure of my company??
also youre literally the one that invited me to watch megamind
JaneAustenStanAccount: and??
daisyduke: shut up jay
we all know youre soft for M stop tryin to play tough
MinnieMouse: this is why duke is my favorite
he’s a living callout post
swanlake: :(
MinnieMouse: second favorite
im so sorry cass ily
swanlake: :)
daisyduke: i aint even mad
JaneAustenStanAccount: I AM
guys wtf
MinnieMouse: you brought this on yourself
maybe you should be nicer to me
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
daisyduke: ‘get fucked jason’ -marinette 2k20
btw im omw for you now
MinnieMouse: thnx ur the best
also im bringing scones as movie snack
daisyduke: noice
swanlake: !!!
JaneAustenStanAccount: FUCK YEAH!!!
MinnieMouse: you dont get any Jay
JaneAustenStanAccount: >:(
i hate it here
***
Marinette doesn’t know a lot about Robin’s past, which she assumes is by design. Secret identities don’t lead well to handing out details and concrete information about one’s personal life.
But, she thinks, one would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not see that whatever facsimile of a childhood Robin had was about eight different levels of fucked up.
It’s in the vague allusions to ‘training’ and the scorn filled way he says the word ‘mother’. It’s in the not-quite-confusion—because whatever family he has is better now, at least—of Marinette telling him about her own parents. About the happy memories she’s shared with them, of learning to bake bread and croissants and macaroons under the loving guidance of her father and practicing delicate designs and frosting techniques with her mother.
So, yeah. She knows he’s kind of messed up and definitely checks off the childhood trauma box that’s apparently one of the requirements for being her friend.
So when Robin suddenly decides to go against everything she’s learned about him up until this point and actually share something about himself—and when that thing he shares just so happens to be a story from his childhood—well… Marinette wouldn’t say she’s prepared, but she’s not- prepared.
He’s in her kitchen, because Marinette has learned her lesson about bleeding vigilantes on her couch, and she’s pretty sure he could’ve gone back to the Cave for this, but he came here for whatever reason. (Was closer, he said. Marinette doesn’t know if she believes him.)
She’s cleaning the knife wound on his arm, and she has his cape laid out across her island. There’s a hole in it she plans on sewing back up after she finishes sewing the hole in her reckless vigilante back up.
“You need to be more careful,” she scolds. “You’re lucky this didn’t nick something important.”
“It's hardly the worst wound I’ve ever acquired,” he tells her in a tone of voice that he probably thinks is reasonable. “At seven years old I had to dig a bullet out of my side in the middle of a Himilayan snowstorm while still making it back to base with time to spare after having successfully assassinated a Russian ambassador.”
Marinette pauses where she’s smoothing the gauze onto his bicep. Her eyes flick up to his, and she sees the exact moment he seems to realize what he just told her. He’s gone utterly still beneath her hands, with terror or worry or the effort it takes not to bolt out the window immediately, she doesn’t know.
“That’s horrifying,” she tells him as she finishes securing the obnoxiously bright bandage, “Never tell me that story again.”
She then drops a kiss onto his bicep, subtly imbuing it with enough luck that it will keep off any infection—the wound was filthy when he came in, seriously, was he in a sewer?—and pats his cheek warmly before moving to clean up all her supplies.
She feels his eyes on her the rest of the night, but every time she turns to him, she can’t tell what he’s thinking. All she knows is that he seems… softer, in a way.
***
Three days after Marinette’s unexpected look into Robin’s past, she finds a box on her desk. It’s a jewelry box, and the only reason she doesn’t immediately freak out is the fact that it lacks any of the miracle box markings.
Still, she opens it hesitantly, and inside, she finds a necklace. A completely normal, non-magical necklace that’s simple and pretty and very much shaped like a tiny toy mouse.
There is no note.
***
(Lahiffe was right.
The Earth spins around the sun. The sky is blue.
Everyone loves Marinette.)
***
The necklace is obviously supposed to be a reference to her Multimouse days, but that doesn’t exactly narrow down who could have left it for her.
Or well, it does, but all the people it narrows down to don’t make any sense.
Multimouse is a badly kept secret, but it’s still a secret. Most people outside Paris don’t know about her and the people in Paris didn’t exactly recognize her off the street either.
Her Court knows, obviously, and so do the Waynes and the bats. But her Court wouldn’t leave her mouse themed gifts, they tend toward ladybugs or their own animal motif as a gift (the amount of cat and bee themed items she owns is ludicrous).
Which leaves the Waynes and the bats.
But her Waynes wouldn’t leave the gift on her desk, and they certainly wouldn’t forget to put a note, so Duke, Jason, and Cass are out.
She must stand there thinking about it too long, because then Jeremy's walking in, just as bright and early as ever.
He sees her holding the box and his face turns a strange mix of curious and outraged. “Is it your birthday? I swear, Boss if you didn't tell us it was your birthday-”
“No, Jeremy,” she says, amused despite her confusion. “That’s not for a while yet. I found this when I walked in,” she shakes the box slightly for emphasis, “but there wasn’t a note.”
“Oh.” A smile slowly spreads across Jeremy’s face. “Oh?” he purrs, waggling his eyebrows at her. “Does the boss have a secret admirer?”
Marinette blinks and- what?
“What? No. I can’t- That doesn’t-” she splutters but Jeremy just laughs and walks over to his station to start setting up for the day, leaving Marinette to her breakdown.
Because this can’t have been left by a secret admirer. That’s just crazy.
There are exactly two people who could’ve left this for her and neither of them would be an admirer of any kind. And she wouldn’t want them to be anyway because that would be stupid and ridiculous and weird.
She doesn’t like Robin or Damian like that…
Right?
***
(It’s impossible not to love her, he realizes, mostly by accident.
She loves, wholeheartedly and unafraid and so much more than Damian had ever thought one person could. She loves with a ferocity and passion no person deserves or can match.
And Damian, foolishly, loves and wishes to be loved by her anyway.)
***
There are roses on her desk the next day, potted and still healthy.
The day after that, there’s a box of expensive chocolates. Like, the kind only Adrien, Felix, and Chloé buy without a second thought. The gossip has spread far enough that all of her designers know about the gifts and probably-admirer.
On the fourth day, there is a box full of high-quality pencils and a new sketchbook, one with nice thick drafting paper, but small enough to fit in her favored bag. Her name is embossed across the front, along with her personal motif of delicate apple blossoms.
On the fifth day, she shows up to find there is only a drawing, which should point to it being Damian, but drawing-her is holding a robin in her cupped palms which cannot be a coincidence. Drawing-her also looks serene and beautiful with her mouth curved slightly and her eyes gentle and soft and Marinette is as touched by the image as she is frustrated by it.
There are hair sticks on the sixth, and delicate pins shaped like flowers on the seventh. Another stunning drawing of her on the eighth, a bottle of wine older than Master Fu on the ninth, the softest cashmere blanket on the tenth, a basket of sweet floral lotions, a glass statue of a bird in flight—she gets so many gifts, Marinette has to stop keeping count.
It’s somewhere around day six that her designers must’ve ratted on her to either Felix or Chloé because it’s not long after that, that all of her friends learn about the gifts and start being terrifically unhelpful about the whole situation.
They each try to give her advice, which would be sweet if it wasn’t all equally terrible and conflicting.
They’re also placing bets on who they think her admirer is, Damian or Robin. They’re trying to be discreet about it—which means they’re failing miserably.
Marinette, admittedly, never expected any different from them.
***
Marinette begins watching Damian in the mornings with a newfound interest.
The gifts are always there before she arrives, which means they're also there before Damian arrives, so she’s in a prime position to catch his reaction.
Or, she would be, if he ever reacted. He barely glances at them and never says anything unless the gift is particularly obnoxious, like the giant stuffed mouse she found sitting in her chair last week. (It was almost as big as she was. Adrien, Nino, and Alix had ended up on the floor from laughing so hard when they’d seen it.)
Damian almost never comments on the gift she received that day, but whenever she uses or wears something that her mysterious admirer had gotten for her, he makes sure to compliment her. Which would be  very suspicious except that Robin does the same thing.
It’s just- they’re both so frustratingly silent about it all! Marinette is this close to just grabbing one or both of them by the shoulders and just shaking until they tell the truth.
It’s driving her insane! Before the necklace appeared on her desk, she didn’t even know that she liked Robin and Damian.
And now she’s overanalyzing their nonreactions. She hates it.
It feels too much like she’s back in collège, trying to sort out her feelings for Adrien and Chat. (Who ended up being the same person—which was just very inconsiderate of him, really. The least he could do is let her angst have meaning dammit!)
And- ugh. What if she doesn't even like either of them? What if her mind is just making her think she does because the idea of them liking her was presented? What then? Or what about the fact that the two boys are also ridiculously similar when she thinks about it. What if she only likes one and is just projecting her feelings onto the other because her mind associates the two?
Oh, she doesn’t like that thought. That thought makes her feel upset and like she wants to cry into a tub of ice cream.
Nino happily indulges her and doesn't even complain when she eats her way through his stash of mint chip as she dramatically complains about stupidly confusing boys.
Honestly, she may as well be back in lycée.
***
(What Marinette does not realize in the midst of all her careful analysis of his reactions, is that it’s not the gifts he’s focused on.
When she wears the necklace and hair sticks, she misses the way his eyes linger on the slope of her neck. As she cares for her roses, she doesn’t notice the way he follows the easy nimbleness of her fingers. She uses her sketchbook and eats the expensive chocolates and doesn’t pay attention to the way he steals glances at her lips. She doesn't see the way his hands twitch when she ventures just near enough to touch.
(She exists next to him, in any form or light, and he is captivated by her very presence.)
Marinette looks, but it is in all the wrong places.)
***
Strangely enough, it’s Signal who helps her with her internal crisis—completely unintentionally and in a very roundabout way—but he helps all the same.
He’s taken an… interest, she supposes, in her magic. One that is entirely his own and has very little to do with that Bat from what she can tell.
His abilities and hers stem from different origins, but she would be lying if she said his weren’t oddly complementary to her own. His precognition abilities stemming from his photokinesis has been useful on more than one occasion regarding the experimental spell matrices she, Tikki, and Nooroo have been testing out.
The magic is normally invisible to people without a Miraculous, but Signal seems to have little trouble seeing what she’s doing, even if he can’t interact with it the way she can.
(There is also the fact that she seems… more when he is around. Days that he spends watching her do her work go by faster and smoother than when he is away. Her magic is easier, and her mind spins with ideas and creations faster.
It’s an odd phenomenon and Ladybug is looking into it.)
There has been more than one occasion where Signal had warned her of the matrix’s imminent collapse with enough time for her to prepare herself for its blowback.
The version she’s working on today is their fifth iteration. It’s supposed to pull the miasma out of the building, filter it through her and Tikki’s own magical energy, before flowing back into the brickwork. Marinette had thought of the idea while talking with Nooroo.
If she can get it to work, it will shift the misfortune into good luck and order and release it back into the environment. Then she’ll only need to cleanse strategic portions of the city in a lattice network, and the creative and destructive energies will mix from there, balancing themselves without much input from her at all.
Of course, that’s only if she can actually get it to work. It’s been almost a month and this is the fifth version and it’s already collapsed on her three times in the last hour. Signal must see the frustration on her face and has taken to trying to distract her with small talk.
She’s very thankful for it, actually. If he wasn’t doing that, she would probably start screaming right here and now, on this random rooftop in the residential district. Which would just be very startling and embarrassing for everyone involved, so. You know. Glad she doesn’t have to do that.
Eventually, she asks him, apropos of nothing, “You’re a detective right?”
He pauses, and blinks at her, likely trying to follow the train of thought that led her to that question. She assumes he did not find it because when he speaks, he still sounds confused.
“Yes? I guess that’s technically what I am.”
“So you’re good at figuring out who’s behind a crime?”
Signal only looks more confused. “Yeah? But Ladybug, what-”
“Great, so. Hypothetically, if you had two suspects for a—well it’s not a crime. A… thing? Situation. How would you figure out which one of them is actually behind the… situation?”
Signal’s lips quirk, just a bit despite his confusion. “I think I’m gonna need a little more to go on than just ‘a situation,’ LB.”
Ladybug purses her lips and stares down at the light weaving intricate patterns in the space between her palms. Slowly, carefully, she tells him, “There are items being left where a person can find them. But the identity of the person leaving them and their intentions are unknown.”
“Are the items dangerous?” he asks worriedly.
Ladybug shakes her head. “No. They're more like gifts.”
“Are the gifts unwanted or creepy? Unsettling? Threatening?”
Another head shake. “Just confusing and… thoughtful.”
“Someone is leaving you thoughtful gifts and you're worried about that… why?” Signal asks, slowly and disbelievingly. 
“It’s because I- wait! I’m not the person!” she panics, causing the magic to spark dangerously in her hands but she barely notices. “The person doesn’t even exist. It was a hypothetical question!”
Signal stares at her. She can’t see his eyes or the top half of his face, but she just knows he’s raising his eyebrow judgingly at her.
“Stop that!” she snaps. “Stop being perceptive! I have enough perceptive people in my life so knock it off!”
Signal laughs like the horrible person he is. “But don’t you need me to be perceptive? That’s like, a requirement to be a detective.”
“Stop it,” she says again, mulishly and very childish.
And isn’t that an odd thought to have? Ladybug being childish.
How novel. Ladybug has never once been childish. She can’t afford to be, because when she is behind the mask, she is all the most important parts of herself. She is the Grand Guardian, is the one who must be in control at all times because she has an entire team to keep safe and alive.
Behind the mask, she’s all of her greatest responsibilities.
But here, in Gotham and with Signal, she is none of those things to him. She is simply another hero, that is his age and very much like him in ways so few are. Ladybug, in the moments she spends with Signal, is probably the closest she has ever been to carefree while in the mask.
It’s as comforting a thought as it is terrifying.
Signal raises his hands in surrender, but his lips are still quirked in amusement. 
Ladybug regrets starting this conversation.
She regrets it even more when, five minutes later, Signal manages to pull the rest of the story from her… along with a name.
She realizes her mistake a second too late to stop herself, and then all she can do is watch.
She watches, with ever-growing horror, as Signal slowly puts the pieces together. She watches, as her whole secret identity starts unraveling around her for the first time ever. She watches, stricken, as Signal opens his mouth to speak.
And then she grabs both sides of his head and Orders him to sleep.
***
The second Marinette bespells him, she regrets it.
She was panicking, okay? And Marinette panicking is very different from Ladybug panicking and truly, she creates messes just by existing.
Nooroo flies out of his hiding place to make distressed noises at the now unconscious Signal with her, which is… actually kinda soothing, if not exactly helpful.
At least she knows she’s not the only one upset right now.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no!” Nooroo frets, flitting around her head with agitated wings. Hers aren’t much better, if she’s being honest. “What are we going to do, Guardian? He knows who you are! This is bad.”
Marinette worries her thumb between her teeth, shifting her weight from foot to foot. With a thought, she's back in her civvies and Tikki is perched on her shoulder, blinking at the scene she’s suddenly a part of.
“Well,” Tikki says, sounding far too calm for the situation. “This isn’t ideal.”
The laugh that escapes Marinette is on the edge of hysterical. “You think?”
“It’s not ideal,” Tikki repeats firmly, “But neither is it a disaster.”
Nooroo lands on her other shoulder as she kneels down beside Signal to rearrange his limbs to not be so uncomfortable. “But he's unpredictable!” he argues, curling into the side of her neck like she will hide him from the world. “We don’t know what he’ll do with this information!”
Tikki hums thoughtfully. “Then we will have to ask. There are far worse people we could have been revealed to. We're lucky it was a friend rather than foe.”
“You think so?” Marinette asks softly, voice barely louder than a whisper.
She knows the Bat’s flock are good people. Many of them are her friends, or people she hopes to call friends soon.
But she doesn't know if these people Marinette calls friends could be Ladybug’s allies.
The bats hoard secrets like black holes, and perhaps they would keep hers just as well, but they could just as easily use it against her. Batman barely tolerates her presence, she can tell by the way Signal talks sometimes, and it is no small stretch of the imagination that he would use this to try and kick her out of Gotham.
Marinette cannot, as a Guardian, leave Gotham.
But more importantly, she doesn’t want to leave Gotham. It’s… her home now. Her friends are here. Her family is here. Robin and Hood and the other bats are here. Damian and all her Waynes are here.
Leaving Gotham would not only make her sick and jittery at the imbalance, but it would break her heart.
If, when Signal tells Batman, he reacts poorly, there is so much that Marinette is set up to lose. And that terrifies her.
Some of that thought process must show on her face—or perhaps Nooroo has just picked up on the turmoil in her chest—because the two Kwami are pressed on either side of her face, nuzzling and hugging as much of her as they can reach.
“We’ll make it through this, Marinette,” Tikki says firmly, no room for argument. “Don’t worry so much. Both of you. Everything will turn out just fine, you’ll see.”
***
@bluesimani @how-to-fuction-properly @chocolatecatstheron @mystery-5-5 @nickristus-dreamer @mochegato @thenillabean @animegirlweeb @novaloptr @darkdaysandfakesmiles @optimistically-pessimistic0524 @clumsy-owl-4178 @g-arya @undecisioned @smolplantmum @blackmagicforever @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @wannajointhecrabcult @paintedhope7 @redscarlet95 @roselynfey @ira-sairain @lozzybowe @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @2confused-2doanything @pepelachanel @too0bsessedformyowngood @miraculouspenta @itsmeevie01 @corabeth11 @jalaluvsu
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toomuch-caffeine · 3 years
Text
Titles don't matter
AO3 link
Word count: 8726
Summary: First, Happy was dating some mysterious woman. Then his new nephew turned out to be superhero. And now Tony somehow gained a kid.
Rating: Teen
Warnings: kidnapping, gunshot wounds, unnamed bad guy's death
A/N: Reposted from AO3, third fic in a series
---
A big reveal of Spider-Man’s identity and by consequence Happy’s mysterious girlfriend, who was a vigilante’s Aunt, brought a lot of yelling and long conversations in med bay. Said vigilante was a teenager and hid the fact that he fights criminals in his pajamas for more than a year, which made his Aunt mix of angry, guilty and terrified. When the situation calmed down, a couple of days after Peter Parker woke up from the surgery and had a chance to defend his actions, Tony made a proposition to May and Happy. Peter could train in the Tower with the Avengers and also would make a super suit with Tony. A suit that would contain a lot of safety protocols and a way to control young hero’s actions by adults.
That’s how Tony ended up giving a tour of his workshop. He observed the awestruck teenager in front of him. Peter looked around, lips slightly parted and eyes wide open. Tower’s lab was definitely an update from dumpsters and school workshops. It occupied two whole floors, one of them belonged to Tony, one to Bruce. Sleek holotables and expensive materials were enough to make every nerdy teenager’s knees weak. There was still some clutter in the corner, but Tony had cleaned up a bit, to impress Peter more.
“Come on, kid, that’s your workstation.” Tony showed a big, empty oval table, to a lingering in a threshold kid. Peter’s eyes widened even more, something that Tony didn’t think was possible.
“Wow, seriously?”
“Yeah. And those are Dum-E and U.” Tony didn’t even have to motion at the two robots, as both of them were currently surrounding Peter, trying to get to know the newcomer. Kid petted both of them, laughing and they seemed satisfied. He was seriously endearing. Couple of minutes spent with him and Tony could already tell why he wormed his way to Happy’s heart in no time. He was still shy with Tony and other Avengers, but around May and Happy he acted like a rambling ball of sunshine. He was too polite for his own sake and looking at his school records, Tony could tell, he was brilliant and right now he wanted to test that.
“So, introductions are done, time for fun!” Tony clapped his hands. “You can use everything in here-”
“Oh my god, this is like the best day of my life, Ned, you know, my friend, won’t believe me!”
“-but there are gonna be rules,” Tony continued. Mention of the rules brought all of Peter’s attention to him.
“First of all, FRIDAY won’t let you in the lab without me or Bruce present. You can experiment with whatever you want, but you have to run your ideas by me or Bruce or FRIDAY first. If you set something on fire, Dum-E has a fire extinguisher. Don’t eat or drink anything bots give you, they mix food with motor oil.
“Okay, so for the first project, we’ll do your spider suit together and you will learn along the way what FRIDAY can do, where are the tools and so on.” Tony sat down next to Peter, motioned for holograms to appear. “So, let’s get started.”
~~~
Tony never liked having company in the workshop. Other people were loud and nagging him to do stuff like eating or sleeping. But then came Bruce, who was quiet, could keep up with him and stand his moods. And then Peter appeared. The kid that understood arc reactor technology and Bruce’s papers. Even when something posed a problem to him, explaining was a pleasure, not a hindrance. He actually wanted to teach him all that he could and he already made several notes of what to do with the kid after they finished the suit. Peter’s ramblings replaced his workshop playlist and soon Tony knew all about his friends and teachers, his stories from patrols, as well as his favorite dishes and ice cream flavors. So he enjoyed working with Peter. His teammates might have also noticed that.
~~~
“Keep this up young spider and you will beat me in sparring,” Natasha praised him after the training. Peter, red faced from exertion, smiled and thanked. Then, he quickly grabbed a bottle that Steve threw at him from behind. He opened it and took a sip.
“Wow, I’m so hungry right now,” he stated.
“We have a lunch in an hour, think you will survive ‘til then?”
“Uhh, I don’t know, who’s cooking?”
“Well, it doesn’t matter, because there’s your favorite pizza waiting for you in the lab.” Another voice butted in. The owner of this voice appeared a moment after. “Spiderling! Come on, we’re burning sunlight!”
“But Mr. Stark, it’s not even noon and we don’t need sunlight in the lab!”
“Yeah, but Happy picks you up at 5, come on, come on, we have a lot to do.”
“Stark, stop making excuses to hog the kid just for yourself,” Natasha joked.
“Yeah, it’s been a month and he spent that mostly with you in the lab,” Bucky backed her up.
“Well, maybe because he knows who is best. Kiddo, who’s your favorite Avenger?” Tony shot them all a smile and clapped Peter on the shoulder.
“Well, I don’t know, but Bruce Banner is pretty cool? You know the most renowned scientist of his generation, his work on gamma rad-“
“You ungrateful child. I build a multimillion dollar super suit with you and that’s how you repay me?” Tony mocked outrage and started dragging Peter out of the gym. “We’re going. But maybe take a shower first.”
~~~
“Parker, you’re cheating!” Sam shouted when Peter threw at him another blue shell and won the race.
“I’m not cheating!”
“That’s not fair!”
“Rules allow that!”
“Then the rules are wrong!” Sam threw his hands up in the air. “God, I can’t believe that I lost to a teenager.”
Clint, who came the last, said, laying face first on the carpet, “You never win with kids in those things. Seriously, I have three of them, I know it.”
“Kid? Where are you? You said you are going to eat. Did the fridge eat you?” Tony came shouting.
“I’m sorry Mr. Stark, but Mr. Barton and Mr. Wilson invited me to play Mario Kart with them,” Peter answered beaming.
“And how did you do?”
“I won!” Peter gestured at the screen with the results and two defeated men.
“That’s great. Hey, when you come to the lab, I’ll let you mess with Iron Man repulsors.”
“Oh my god, yes!” Peter’s eyes lit up and he hurried after Tony.
“Wow, Tony stole Happy’s kid,” Sam said incredulously, when they both left.
“Do you think he will hide and lock him in his lab forever?” Clint lifted himself from the carpet.
“Dunno. Wanna go another round?”
~~~
So when the summer break ended, Spider-Man’s suit tested and ready to use, the atmosphere in the workshop changed. Kid started spending mornings at school and afternoons alternating between patrols and spending time in the lab. But the amount of time spent together was significantly smaller and emptiness started annoying Tony. It did wonders to his responsibilities to SI and Avengers Initiative as he was less inclined to lock himself up in the workshop.
~~~
“Tony, did something blow up here?” Bruce entered his workshop and stopped in his tracks, shell-shocked and looking around. He hadn’t been in Tony’s workshop for a long time as he worked mostly in his or small med bay’s lab and it was Tony, who would pay friendly visits to other labs (or come to bother Bruce). Currently, on Peter’s workstation were piling papers and textbooks. Every other surface was covered in post-it notes with Spanish vocabulary.
“I’m helping Peter with Spanish.”
“Tony, do you even know Spanish?” Bruce asked with raised eyebrows.
“I do now.”
“So… You are learning Spanish. For Peter,” Bruce stated.
“I’m learning for myself. It’s just a side effect that I can help him.”
“And it has nothing to do with Nat and Bucky teaching him Russian?”
“Nothing.”
“Sure. Now, do you have a UV lamp? Mine had broken down.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s there.”
~~~
“Soo, Mr. Stark, I have a question, you don’t have to say yes, of course…” Kid said, playing with a zipper.
“Just spit it out.”
“Cannedcometotheworkshopplease?” Peter let out a question in one breath with unbelievable speed.
“Say that again, but slower?”
“Can Ned come to the workshop, please? We have a robotics project for school, an-“
“Jesus, of course you can invite your friend over, you don’t need to stress so much.”
“Thank you Mr. Stark!”
And that’s how Tony ended up giving a lab tour to another teenager, this time a chubby, Asian kid, that gave the gaping fish impression at the first sight of the workshop.
“So, kiddos, what do you need to do for your little project?”
The project ended up with a very angry May Parker yelling at him.
“Stark! Why the fuck school called me to tell me that Peter’s last project was to dangerous to show in class?” Her lips were pressed into a thin line and she crossed her arms.
“Wha- It wasn’t anything that would blow up?” Tony said hesitantly as he didn’t exactly remember what he came up with.
“There were lasers, Tony.”
“Not very dangerous, if you ask me, just for a show.” He was sure that he didn’t let kids put anything that would destroy school in their project.
“Lasers that apparently cut a school desk and a whiteboard in half.” Or maybe he did. “He was given a 3 day suspension for bringing dangerous objects to school!”
“Oh, wow, I mean, that’s bad…” Tony was literally unable to act guilty, because that meant Peter would be out of school, and that meant…
“He’s not going to spend that time with you.” May Parker’s sharp voice cut off his train of thoughts.
“Oh…”
He spent those three days redecorating and personalizing the guest room, where Peter had stayed a couple of times. His actions brought some half-hidden smiles from his teammates and Pepper, but he shrugged it off.
~~~
“Pepper, why did you take my intern?”
“I didn’t take anyone, Tony.” Pepper leveled him with a stare. “Peter came to me, asking for help with English essay for school.”
“Why didn’t he ask me?”
“Because you said that English classes are useless and he should ditch them.”
“What? No! I didn’t! Why would I?” Tony sputtered.
“FRIDAY, pull up the footage, please,” Pepper said with an exhale.
“Okay, FRIDAY, don’t, I did, but I shouldn’t. Kid, don’t ditch school, your education is important.”
“Well, I can always become a full time Avenger.”
“Wha- no! No, you can’t, I forbid, you are going to finish high school, then go to MIT and then work in SI, and you are not going to be a full time Avenger. Over my dead body!” Tony’s speech made both Pepper and Peter laugh.
“I was just joking.” Peter scrunched his eyebrows as some thought just came to him. “Have you already planned my life for me?”
“No?”
“Oookay,” he replied, dragging the o. “Anyway, I just thought, that Pepper has more experience in humanities that you,” said Peter
“So when you are done with English, head down to the lab, because I have some upgrade ideas to discuss with you.”
Tony shot a glare at Pepper and she glared back. Tony decided to do a tactical retreat and leave the room.
~~~
“Tony, wait!” Happy called after him. “Look, I just wanted to talk about Peter.” That grabbed Tony’s attention.
“Is he okay? I didn’t get any-“
“No, no, he’s fine, I just wanted to talk about him. And you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I talked with May and she noticed that as well and he spends a lot of time with you.”
“If you want me to stop h-“
“I don’t want you to stop, there’s just a building full of people who also want to spend time with him.” Happy’s words were rushed and he seemed out of breath.
“So what do you want me to do, throw him out of the workshop?”
“Tony, just don’t go around complaining that he’s currently doing something with someone else.” Happy made a placating gesture and continued, “Look, I know you love him, I do too , but you can’t monopolize all his time.”
Tony opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He thought about his interactions with Peter for the past couple of months. Yeah, he liked the kid, liked teaching and helping him, a lot of his Spider-Man’s adventures had raised his heart rate and had given him a few gray hairs, but love? Nope, he didn’t need it and the kid didn’t need it.
He finally found his voice, “I don’t l-“
“God, you are an emotionally stunted idiot.” Happy shook his head. “Everyone sees that. Talk with Pepper.”
“Oh-okay,” Tony replied in confusion.
~~~
Pepper and Tony were laying in bed, the former reading a book, the latter looking at some blueprints.
“Happy said that I love Peter,” Tony dropped suddenly. The woman closed a book and turned on her side to look at him.
“And you don’t agree with that,” she stated.
“Well, it’s not like I don’t agree with it, but…”
“Tony, you literally started learning a new language to help him. And you also do your paperwork, while he does his homework, because you want to set a good example. You also started sleeping and eating regularly, for the same reason.”
“I just want to be a good example.”
“I also know something else.”
“Hmm?”
“Your will.”
“Oh.” Tony had, in fact, updated his will a month before and made Peter his sole heir. Peter wasn’t aware of this fact as Tony waited for him to be eighteen. May, as a legal guardian, and Happy, by extension, were the only ones informed about it. “But you know, he’s clever.”
“Would you do that to every clever kid?”
“…no.” Pepper smiled and picked up her book. Tony stared at the ceiling, thinking. After a minute he said, “He also said that I spend too much time with him.”
“Happy said that?”
“Uh-huh…”
“Tony… He just means that you are fairly annoying, when Peter spends time with the team and you come dragging him to the workshop.”
“I don’t drag him anywhere.”
“You know what I mean,” Pepper responded disapprovingly.
“Okay, okay, I know.”
After the beat of silence Tony spoke again, “You know, we could make our own kids.”
“You already have one.”
“He’s Happy’s and May’s, I just borrowed him.”
“And after we make our own, you are going to give him back?”
“Ehh, no, he grew on me.” Tony blinked, realizing something. “Wait you said after? Does that mean-“
“Good night, Tony.” Pepper turned off the lights.
“But you don’t dismiss the idea…”
“Good night.”
~~~
He did make it weird. They were five minutes into their usual lab time and Tony couldn’t stop staring at the kid and recalling conversations with Happy and Pepper. Peter , currently unaware of the turmoil inside Tony , was sitting at his workstation, chewing on a pencil and focusing on calculus homework. Tony sitting with his own pile of papers moved his eyes to the sheet of paper before him. ‘ Article 5c…' What the fuck am I reading? He looked on the desk, where read pieces of paper were laying. Apparently it was a contract. He didn’t recall its content at all. He looked at Peter again. Still chewing on a pencil.
“Hey, don’t chew on that!”
“What?”
“You’ll destroy your teeth by chewing on pencils.”
Peter scrunched his eyebrows.
“Seriously?” He looked at the pencil and at Tony. “Why are you so weird today?”
“I’m not weird.”
“You are looking at me.”
“Maybe I like watching you.” As soon as those words left his mouth, Tony winced internally at them. Great, now he is a creepy, rich guy, who likes watching teenagers. “Or maybe not.” Peter’s eyebrows raised in question. “But I still like you.”
“You are being really weird,” Peter said, unsure of what he should do.
“Do you like being here?”
“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”
“You are not feeling obligated to do so? You wouldn’t prefer to spend time with Steve right now?”
“I don’t understand…”
“It’s a simple question, Pete.”
“Yeah, but I don’t understand why you are asking me that.”
“Just answer it, kid.”
“No , I don’t feel obligated to spend time here. I wouldn’t prefer to spend time with Steve right now” Peter replied, confusion and nervousness clearly visible, with how he started playing with the pencil.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s good, good talk, go back to your homework.” Peter looked at him quizzically for a moment, then he shrugged and went back to calculus. Tony started going through the contract. Except after five lines he lost his focus again and started thinking about Peter again. Emotions were always confusing for him and it didn’t help that everything about a situation was complicated. He couldn’t exactly Google ‘my bodyguard is dating a woman with a kid and I think I kind of love that kid, but I’m not sure what to do.’ Happy and Pepper both said that it’s okay and their only complaint was he tries to keep Peter to himself too much. And he was willing to admit that they were in fact right. But that was followed by the doubts if Peter actually wants to spend time in the workshop or if he just a pressured poor kid, who didn’t feel like he could refuse. Even if he wanted to spend time with him, where would he draw the line ? He had May and Happy as, well, parental figures. So what did it make Tony?
“Why are you staring at me again, Tony ? ” Peter’s voice startled him. He didn’t even notice when he moved his gaze from paperwork before him to kid again.
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are.”
Tony moved his eyes to the ceiling and sighted.
“Okay, I am. But I want to talk to you about something and I don’t know how.” Talking about feelings. Apparently a mature thing to do.
“Oh. Did I do something wrong? Because-“
“No, no, no, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Tony quickly denied. “Wait. Why did you think that you did something wrong? Did you?” He stared intensely at Peter.
“No, I just, you know…”
“Okay, never mind, we’ll talk about this later.” Tony took a big breath and started, “I talked with Happy. And Pepper. They both thi-“ A ping from his phone interrupted him, he looked at it and swore. “Okay, looks like we need to postpone our conversation.”
“What’s going on? Is that a mission? Should I-“
“Not a mission, stay there and do your homework, I’m going to be back soon or I’ll send Pepper.” Tony quickly left the workshop and once he was out of hearing range, he said, “FRIDAY, what’s going on?”
“There was a shooting at Central Park. Happy Hogan and May Parker were involved.”
“Are they okay?”
“911 reports say that Mr. Hogan was injured.”
“Send location to the suit, I’m going there. Divert the ambulance with Happy to the Tower, inform Cho and Pepper of the situation.”
“What should I tell Mr. Parker?”
“Don’t tell him anything yet.”
May and Happy had a date tonight, they should’ve been safe. But something happened and Tony had to do damage control quickly.
~~~
There was already the police and an ambulance departing the scene. Tony couldn’t see neither Happy nor May anywhere. He hoped that they were both in the ambulance that he saw leaving. He landed and immediately saw the crowd turn to him. He didn’t have time for fans and questions, ignoring them, he confidently strode towards NYPD officers, the crowd parting like the Red Sea.
“What’s going on, where’s May Parker and Happy Hogan?”
“Excuse me Mr. Stark, but you have to stand behind that tape.” one of the officers pointed with a finger.
“Mr. Hogan is my employee and has close ties to the Avengers and as such, that case falls under our jurisdiction,” he quickly replied, leveling the cop with a stare. It was a young looking man in uniform. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth in shock.
“Okay, I know that you are here to just keep the crowd away. Just bring me to someone, who is in charge here,” Tony quickly added more calmly. This worked, because he quickly found himself in the company of Detective Morrison and Detective Slater. Both of them were tall, unimpressed looking men.
“I understand Mr. Stark that you are nervous, but we are currently questioning the witnesses.” Morrison crossed his arms over the chest. Tony looked at his phone. Steve was trying to get that case handed over to them, but there’s only so much that can be done in five minutes and without any proof that it was an Avengers-level threat. Happy was admitted in the Tower’s med bay, unconscious and with a bullet hole. May Parker wasn’t with him and Tony was currently trying to locate her.
“You don’t understand. I just need to talk to a woman. May Parker. This high, brown hair, wears glasses. She was with Happy Hogan and probably will know what happened here.”
“I’m sorry, but there was no woman matching your description among people on scene when we arrived.” Finally Tony got confirmation of what he suspected all along and could act on that. He unblocked his phone and chose the number.
“Rogers, shooting in Central Park, May Parker wasn’t on scene when authorities had arrived, she’s possibly missing.” Then he turned to the Detectives, “We’ll need the witness statements that you’ve gathered.” He handed them a business card.
~~~
Back at the Tower Tony immediately rushed to the workshop. Peter was still there, having finished homework, he was preparing a web fluid.
“Hey, kid,” Tony started. Peter jumped in surprise and spilled the chemicals. He moved to clean it, but Tony stopped him
“Leave this. We need to talk.”
“Uhh, yeah, you'd said that before you left.”
“About something else, actually.” He placed his hands on the kid's shoulders and pushed him gently in the direction of a lab stool. “Sit down.” Peter complied and turned his attention to him.
“I left, because FRIDAY informed me of… shooting in Central Park. Happy and May were involved in it. Happy is currently in surgery and we don’t know where May is.” Tony decided to be short. As he watched Peter’s expression morph from neutral to disbelief and then pure shock and fear, he thought that maybe being more gentle and less direct was a better idea.
“What? No! That’s not… Please…” Peter’s breath quickened and started coming in short pants. He swayed on the unstable lab stool. Tony caught him by his shoulders.
“You need to breathe, kid or you’re gonna pass out.”
Fortunately Peter was able to get his breathing under control on his own and didn’t work himself into a full-blown panic attack. After a short silence filled only with the sound of his inhales and exhales, he feebly said, “I want to help.”
“Absolutely not,” Tony answered sternly and moved back.
“It’s May!”
“That is exactly why you won’t be doing anything!”
“You don’t understand!”
“Yes, I do! You won’t be able to keep your cool and you will be a liability not help! We can’t afford that!”
“Well, you can’t stop me!”
“Oh, yes I can. FRIDAY, Peter is not allowed to leave the Tower or access any files on the case.” Tony gave his orders to AI and looked at Peter. The teenager was fuming.
“You have no right!”
“If you think I’m the bad guy here, you can talk to Steve, he’s going to tell you the same thing.”
“I hate you!” Peter pushed him and stormed out of the workshop.
“FRIDAY, tell him that he should go to med bay to keep Happy company,” Tony barked out and then sighted, sat down by the desk and put his head in his arms. Somehow he managed to destroy everything in two minutes. Well, at least he knew where he stood. He rubbed his face and got up. Team was waiting for him in one of the conference rooms.
~~~
Avengers got permission to handle the case with the NYPD. So along with the team, there were two disgruntled detectives that Tony had met before. Steve led the meeting. After an hour of talking that had led them exactly to nothing he summed up, “For now, we have first responders and witnesses reports, none of them actually saw what happened, most of them heard the gunshot and saw only the result. Nobody recalls seeing May. FRI (DAY?) is running facial recognition, but to no avail. She’s also reviewing all of the footage from the nearest cameras to the scene and flagging anything unusual.”
At that moment Bruce entered the room.
“I have an update on Happy,” he started. ”GSW to the stomach, although nothing vital was hit. Cho’s using her regeneration cradle, so he should be able to tell us what happened when the anesthesia wears off.”
The team nodded at that.
“How’s Peter, Tony?” Natasha turned to him.
“He said that he hates me, because I didn’t let him help us,” Tony said dryly.
“He doesn’t really hate you, Tony,” Clint reassured him. “He’s just frightened that he’s going to lose the closest thing he has to a mother.”
“You need to talk to him,” Natasha stated.
“Yeah, I need to check on him anyway. FRI, where is he?”
“I am unable to determine Mr. Parker’s location.” Blood in Tony’s veins froze in an instant. The whole room went quiet, you could hear the pin drop.
“What… What do you mean?”
“Mr. Parker left the Tower approximately 30 minutes ago.”
“What?! I told you not to let him out! Track him!”
“The protocol has been overridden. Current protocol prohibits me from tracking him.”
“How?”
“I believe that the current protocol was created by Ned Leeds.”
“Fuck.” Wow, letting the kid’s friend in the lab bit him in the ass for the second time.
“Tony, what’s going on? Who’s-“
“Peter and his friend hacked FRIDAY to sneak out and they added coding that makes it impossible to track him. I’m going to fix that.”
It was a long night. Tony spent hours fixing FRIDAY’s programming. At the end he was seriously considering whether it’s better to kill or hire Ned. Unfortunately after removal of the offending code it was too late to find Peter. He disappeared into thin air. His spider suit and phone were left at the Tower. He had changed his clothes in a back alley nearby and he wasn’t caught by any cameras, so they didn’t have anything to go on. At 4 AM it started sounding a bit surreal. Man gets shot and a woman goes missing in a public place in broad daylight. Teenager runs away and doesn't leave any trace. Everything in the span of two hours. Now they were just waiting for something. Clint and Sam played cards quietly. Steve and Natasha were going through everything they’ve managed to gather for an umpteenth time. Bruce went back to med bay to help Cho. Bucky just fell asleep on the table. The two detectives had left. Tony just stared at the screen no longer understanding what he was seeing, his mind exploring horrifying scenario number 78, where they find two mutilated bodies in a river and Happy dies because Cho missed something.
“Mr. Parker was registered by a street camera near the Tower, five minutes ago.” FRIDAY’S voice cut the silence. “He seems to be heading here.”
“What? Where’s he now?” Tony jumped to his feet.
“Mr. Parker just entered the Tower,” FRIDAY announced. “He’s going to the penthouse level.”
~~~
Tony for the past few hours imagined the lecture that he was going to give Peter when he saw him again. Something that would make the kid regret the day he was born. But when he saw him standing by the elevator, all of the anger had left him and immense relief washed over him. Peter was pale and shaking like leaf, but according to FRIDAY was unharmed
“Thank god!” That was all Tony said before pulling him into a hug. Peter, stiff at first, melted into him and started crying. His legs gave out and they both crumbled to the floor.
“I don’t hate you, I don’t hate you, I don’t-“
“Sh, sh, I know, it’s okay, I know, kiddo, I know,” Tony instinctively shushed him and started rocking them back and forth. He looked up and saw Pepper in pajamas, who was woken up and drawn there by the noise and he shook his head a little. She quickly understood and left for their bedroom.
Tony didn’t know how long they sat there but his legs went numb. Eventually Peter calmed down and said, “I thought you would chew me out for running.”
“I thought too. I’m still going to, after you get some sleep.”
“Hmm…”
They sat like that in silence for some more time. Finally Tony moved and helped Peter up.
“Come on, you still need to sleep.”
~~~
Peter looked better after the shower. Not so pale. Tony pushed him into bed, turned off the light and was about to leave, when the small voice called, “Can you stay?” Tony turned towards the owner of this voice. In the darkness he could only distinguish the lump on the bed and curls peeking out from beneath the covers. He moved closer and sat on bed next to Peter, leaning against the headboard.
“Only until you fall asleep,” he said softly. He didn’t exactly know what he’s doing, comforting someone was completely uncharted territory for him. He remembered something that Jarvis used to do for him, when he was little. He put his hand on Peter's head and started running fingers through the soft curls. Peter sighted and leaned closer.
“I’m sorry for running away,” he mumbled.
“You should be.”
“I just wanted to do something…”
“And what did you do?”
“I just wandered around. I didn’t have any plan and I realized that I won’t help. I was scared that you would be mad, so I didn’t come back immediately.”
“I was mad, I still am, but I was mostly afraid, kid. You can’t do things like that.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Peter finally closed his eyes and relaxed a little. Tony thought that he was asleep.
“Do you think you’re gonna find May?” Peter asked quietly, startling Tony, who looked down and saw wide eyes staring at him. ‘ He’s just frightened’, he remembered Clint’s words.
“I don’t know. I hope so.” Peter closed his eyes again and pressed his cheek against Tony’s thigh. Tony kept playing with his hair until his breaths evened out and face and shoulders relaxed completely. He stayed like that for a moment before standing up. He stopped in the doorway, looked at sleeping form and whispered, “Sleep tight, kiddo.”
After that Tony went to the kitchen, where Pepper waited for him.
“How is he?”
“Physically? Good. Mentally? As well as he could be in that situation.” He moved towards a coffee machine.
“I handled CPS. He can stay here, for now.”
“That’s good, good.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Coffee. And then go to the team and see if there’s some progress. Find May eventually. You?”
“I’m going to make sure that nothing burns in the process.” she smiled at him softly.
“FRIDAY will let me know when he wakes up, but can you keep an eye on him?” he looked at her.
“I’ve already cleared my schedule.”
“What would I do without you?”
~~~
When he entered the conference room everyone was a bit agitated.
“What happened?”
“A witness came forward, she saw a van and some men in ski masks near the scene,” Natasha started explaining. “One of the traffic cameras caught a vehicle matching the description. We have a license plate.”
It turned out that their excitement was short-lived. Sam and Bucky found the van in an alley a couple blocks away. Police forensics examined it. They would have to wait for the full results, but for now it seemed that it was cleaned. The only noteworthy thing they discovered were traces of blood, presumably May’s. All of the nearby cameras recorded many other cars at the interesting period of time and it was impossible to tell which one belonged to kidnappers. The owner was a kind old man, named Stan, who reported the van's theft a week before. The investigation on that also hit a dead end. They were in process of reviewing the material gathered by the police and made FRIDAY find footage from the night of the van’s theft, but it didn’t seem to go anywhere. They also found May’s phone, or rather what was left of it. They were working on two theories, first one that someone noticed that she spends lots of time with Happy and kidnapped her for information, second one that she was kidnapped for a ransom. They had thought that maybe Happy would say something groundbreaking, but his story didn’t tell them anything that they already knew or suspected.
“There were three men in ski masks and non-descript clothes, with guns. They tried to grab us, one of them shot me. I think they got scared and took only May. I don’t remember much more.”
That left them to wait and look into the enemies' of Avengers, SI and Spider-Man recent activity. Honestly with the amount of material they had, they should have made some progress.
24 hours have passed and they managed to hit a dead end. No one saw anything, no camera registered anything. Tony looked at the clock in the conference room accusingly. First 48 hours were the time when most of the missing people were found. After that chances started to diminish. They’d already used half of that time. Tony should probably go find and comfort Peter instead of sitting and not doing anything, but he couldn’t make himself leave the room in case something happened. Besides, finding May would be probably the most comforting thing they could do.
His train of thoughts was interrupted by an email notification. He looked at the new message and felt his heart drop immediately.
“Fuck! Guys?”
~~~
Everyone in the conference room sat in silence as the video was playing. This time apart from two detectives, there were ransom specialists joining the team. Video featured the kidnappers beating up May and making demands. It looked really bad, with two men punching and kicking her without even looking where. She already had some bruises and what looked like a broken nose. Hits were leaving red marks that would soon turn into bruises. What raised the biggest concern was that May barely reacted. She probably already had a concussion or was drugged.
“Mr. Hogan, we have your girlfriend. In exchange for her, we want 5 million dollars. We are sure that you can get that amount easily from your boss. We give you 48 hours, or we will have fun with her.”
Tony immediately took his phone to organize the demanded amount of money in cash.
“Tony, what are you doing?” Steve asked him.
“Getting them what they want, what do you think I’m doing?”
“I think we should make a plan first,” Bucky joined calmly.
“What plan? They said, what they want, we give them that, we get May back!”
“Excuse me sir, but you shouldn’t do that,” one of the K&R specialists interrupted. “This video doesn’t count as proof of life, so we don’t know if that woman is still alive. A phone call would be preferable. Also, in ransom negotiations the first offer generally should be declined.”
“Am I the only person in this room that actually watched this video? You didn’t hear what they wanted to do? Didn’t see what they were doing?”
“It is not in the kidnappers interest to kill her quickly if they want ransom. They just want to show the power they have over you.”
“Besides, the more we communicate with them, the more we have to track them,” Natasha added. “Also you shouldn’t negotiate. When they get to talk with the billionaire Tony Stark, they are immediately going to raise their demands.”
“It’s also going to be a press nightmare if the media get a sniff on this.”
“Fine!” Tony threw his arms over the head. “Do whatever you want.” He left the room slamming the door.
~~~
Tony went to med bay to inform Happy about the recent development. Peter and Pepper also were there. They sat on plastic chairs, Pepper hugging Peter. Happy laid in bed. He woke up, when Tony entered the room. Tony sat down heavily on the chair in the corner.
“Anything has changed?” Pepper asked. Tony sighted and gave them an extremely watered down description of the video content.
“Those specialists tell me that paying immediately is a mistake and the team says that I shouldn’t get involved.”
“They’re specialists for a reason,” Pepper reasoned.
“I want to see that video,” Happy said.
“Trust me on this, you don’t want to.”
“Tony…”
“You focus on getting better, Hap,” Tony cut him off and turned to Peter. “Have you eaten?”
“Yeah.”
“A sandwich a couple of hours ago,” supplied Pepper.
“You have to eat more with your metabolism, kiddo,” Tony said seriously. “Come on. We’re going to the kitchen and then there’s bedtime for Spider-babies.”
“I’m neither hungry nor tired.”
“Yeah, I’m not explaining to your Aunt, why are you starved and sleep deprived.”
“If you will have someone to explain to,” Peter mumbled under a breath.
“Yeah, you're not talking like that. We’ll get her back and you are going to eat.” Tony put his arms under Peter’s armpits and pulled him up. “If you don’t cooperate, I’ll use a suit to drag you to the kitchen.”
~~~
Tony managed to coax Peter into the kitchen, without dragging and made him blueberry pancakes. (“Pancakes? But that’s breakfast food.” “Yeah, and you are going to eat them at 10 PM.”) They repeated the routine from yesterday. It also calmed down Tony and he started accepting that specialists and the team might be right. He came back to the conference room, where everyone was except for Clint and Natasha.
“FRIDAY tracked the kidnappers, they didn’t cover their tracks well.” Steve’s voice greeted him. “Clint and Nat are doing reconnaissance right now.”
Clint’s and Nat’s intel helped them develop a plan. There were four kidnappers, holding May in a suburban house. They were armed, but definitely weren’t professionals. This didn’t work in the team’s favor, because their lack of experience made them unpredictable. With the hostage present they really couldn’t afford a fight, even though they outnumbered the opponents. So they formed a plan, when they would try to take the criminals one by one.
It was just an ordinary house at the outskirts. The whole neighborhood was peaceful and unaware of horrors currently happening in one of the houses. Well maintained, clean area, small streets and wide sidewalks, a playground nearby. With a shining sun and birds singing cheerfully it looked like a suburban dream. It was really weird, that nobody had heard anything, but on the other hand it was the kind of neighborhood where the residents would leave their homes in the morning for work and come back in the evening.
“It just really creeps me out, this place,” Tony started wondering. “It looks perfect and beautiful, but no one has any idea what neighbors are doing.”
“Do you know what our neighbors are doing, Tony?”
“I have FRIDAY monitoring for any suspicious activity in the nearby buildings.”
“You're a stalker.”
Tony chuckled as he watched people getting to their cars and leaving. They had been observing the house since wee hours of morning waiting for the best moments to strike. Right now any action was out of the question. There were too many people on the street and any Avengers action would attract a lot of gawkers.
“One of the kidnappers went out for a smoke, he’s at the back. I think we could take him out without attracting any attention.” Natasha’s voice carried through the comms.
“Do not engage. Neighbors haven’t already left, we can’t risk being seen,” Steve ordered. “Tony, how’s the front of the house looking?”
“The guy with a nose from the house on the left is having a polite conversation with the fat guy from the house in front,” Tony relayed what he could see from his car.
“Guy with a nose?”
“It’s seriously big, trust me.”
“Seriously, you would think that people at 7:30 in the morning would hurry to work and not engage in conversations with neighbors,” Clint complained. Three yelling children came out from one of the houses.
“Oh and now the guy with a nose is packing his children to the car and the fat guy looks like he’s about to go,” Tony updated and relaxed into a seat. He took a sip of a coffee and choked, when someone suddenly knocked on his window.
“Yeah?” He asked, rolling down the window.
“You can’t park your car here!” a middle aged blonde woman started yelling at him. Peter called those ‘Karens’ as he recalled.
“It’s not a no-parking zone,” he replied.
“You cast a shadow on my flowers.” Tony looked at the sad excuses for plants and immediately thought that they need water more than sunlight. Before he could share his idea, comms cracked and he heard Steve saying, “Tony, do not argue with her, we can’t afford her to recognize you. Just drive around the block, maybe she’ll leave.”
Crazy plant lady didn’t leave and Tony was forced to find another observation spot.
Finally, the neighborhood emptied and quietened.
“That guy is smoking in the back again.”
“Okay, the neighbors have left, you can take him out now.”
Tony looked at the stream from the camera Clint had on himself. Natasha and Bucky moved in complete silence. She stepped behind the kidnapper, and with surgical precision pressed a spot on his neck. Bucky immediately caught the man, before he could fall and make a noise. They dragged him into bushes and hid there.
“One out, three to go.”
“Okay, now we wait.”
Couple of minutes later another criminal appeared.
“Clint, go.”
An arrow soundlessly flew through the air and hit him in the shoulder. Bucky appeared and again caught and dragged the guy into bushes, where Natasha was keeping an eye on the first one.
“He’s out. Two more to go.”
“Attention guys, the remaining two kidnappers moved from the basement to the kitchen.”
“Uh-uh, people on the street,” Tony warned. “Someone with a kid, I think. I can’t see clearly.”
Two NYPD officers in civilian clothes appeared and herded the newcomers to where they came from.
“Okay, all clear now.”
“Good. Nat and Bucky, you are guarding the back door and kitchen window, Tony and me from the front. Clint stays watching those two taken out guys, Sam, survey the area from the air. Bruce, move the ambulance here.”
Tony got out of the car and went to the front door, where he met Steve. He activated the nano gauntlet and leaned on the door. Steve looked around while the lasers from the gauntlet were destroying the lock.
“Okay, the door is unlocked, we’re going in.”
“Copy that.” i
Tony pushed the door and let Steve in first. He activated his whole suit and immediately followed the man. They were in a hallway that opened at the end to the living room, connected to the kitchen. On the right there were the stairs. They moved quietly toward s the living room. Tony gestured to Steve that he wants to enter first and stun both remaining criminals with his gauntlets. Steve nodded. Tony smoothly went to the room and fired at the unsuspecting kidnappers. He hit one of them, standing by the counter, but instead of the other he hit the cupboard full of tableware. The cupboard like in slow motion fell on a criminal, emitting an ear-splitting noise of breaking glass. Cracking and clanking reverberated through the room for what I seemed like an eternity. It made both men stop and just watch in shock what was happening. Steve regained his bearings quicker and ran towards the man buried under the glass and porcelain.
“He’s dead.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, his brain is on the floor.”
Tony didn’t wait for more. He retracted the suit and ran towards the basement.
“May, May?! Oh, shit…”
May was slumped in the chair, which she was tied to. Her face was covered in dried blood and bruises.
“Hey, May, wake up,” Tony said while looking for a pulse. He jabbed his fingers to her neck and prayed quietly. Fortunately, he felt slow beats.
“Get a medic here ASAP, she has a pulse, but it looks really bad!” he shouted at the comms. “Hey, wake up, Peter’s waiting for you.”
This seemed to do the trick.
“Pet’r?” she slurred.
“Yeah, he really misses you. And Happy’s okay.”
“Mmm…”
After that everything went rapidly . Suddenly the place was swarmed by medics and NYPD officers. Tony was pushed back as they put a collar around May’s neck and an oxygen mask on her face. She was placed on a stretcher and pushed into an ambulance that left soon.
“Jesus.” Tony slumped against a car and slid down, so he was sitting on asphalt. After the stress of the past few days left him, he felt exhausted. “I need a coffee.”
“You need a sleep.” Steve materialized from nowhere.
“Everyone needs that. I need to talk to Peter, Happy and Cho.”
“ The NYPD wants us to stay here. But… Maybe nobody will notice your absence.”
“Steve Rogers, goody two shoes, encouraging me not to cooperate with law enforcement? How can I refuse?”
“Drive safe, Tony.”
“I will.”
Tony got into a car and started the engine. He drank the rest of the now cold coffee and started driving in direction of the Tower. There were still a lot of things to do.
~~~
Couple of days later Happy was allowed to leave med bay on condition that he will have plenty of rest. May was cleared by Cho the day before that as the biggest issue was concussion. Steve and Bucky were preparing a big dinner since everyone finally could participate and even Rhodey managed to leave DC and was joining them. They were very secretive about the chosen dishes and had forbidden everyone from even getting near the kitchen.  Tony honestly just hoped that they wouldn’t set the building on fire. He holed up in the workshop.
The elevator ding announced somebody’s arrival. Tony turned and saw Peter lingering on a doorstep.
“Hey, what are you doing there? Come here.”
Peter looked at the floor, shuffled towards the workbench and stood there awkwardly. Tony got up and approached him.
“Did you forget that you usually sit here?”
Peter sat down and started playing with the hem of his shirt.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“Before… Before all this, you said that you need to talk to me.”
Honestly Tony hoped that Peter forgot his attempt at the serious conversation.
“You were weird that day and then, you know what happened, and you were nice, but not there, and then again weird.”
Tony cleared his throat and said slowly, “I’m sorry that you felt that way. I spent most of the time with the team, because I thought that finding May was what you needed the most.”
“I mean, it was. I just felt lonely. Happy was on strong pain meds and Pepper is nice, but…”
“Yeah, I get it, I’m really sorry. And for being weird. Happy told me that I spend a lot of time with you and butt in your time with others and I started questioning how you are feeling about this.”
Peter suddenly moved and wrapped his arms around Tony and with a muffled voice said, “I don’t mind, seriously.”
“I know now.” After a moment he added, “You know, I just don’t want to replace anyone.”
“You’re not. You are just Tony, not Happy, or May, or...”
“Just Tony, huh?” Wow, where did the hero worship go?
“Titles don't matter, only that you care.”
I care so much , he wanted to say. I want you to be safe, I want to see you grow and learn. Instead he just said, “I do.” Peter didn’t respond. Tony broke the silence, “You know I’m not good at emotions. Happy called me an emotionally stunted idiot.”
“I know.”
“You little shit. You were supposed to say, ‘You handled this very well, you are great!'” Tony broke a hug and ruffled his hair. Peter beamed at him
“Miss Potts asks if Peter got lost in the workshop and if she has to come and get you to the dinner,” FRIDAY interrupted them.
“Wait, you were supposed to tell me the dinner is ready?”
“Maybe.” Peter smiled sheepishly.
“You really are a little shit. Come on. I’m starving.”
When they got to the kitchen everyone was waiting for them. Pepper, with crossed arms, scolded Tony, “What did you do in that workshop of yours? Everyone was waiting for you and it’s extremely disrespectful to Steve and Bucky!”
“I’m really sorry, Pep, but we needed to have a conversation. And someone-” he looked sternly at Peter- “didn’t tell me that dinner was ready.”
“I’m sorry, really, it just happened,” Peter frantically started explaining himself. Something in Pepper’s face softened.
“I guess it’s fine, you two really needed it, but next time maybe find a better moment, okay?”
“Okay, okay!”
They finally sat down at the table. Steve and Bucky really put a lot of effort into the meal. The main course was salmon with asparagus. They also prepared garlic bread and a salad as side dishes. They even chose the right wine for a fish, but Tony suspected Natasha’s or Pepper’s help here. Conversation flew freely and they made their way to the dessert, in an amiable atmosphere. Pepper started conversing with May, which brought his attention.
“You know, maybe you could move to the Tower.”
“I don’t know really…”
“Peter and Happy spend most of their time here anyway and you too were here a lot, even before.”
“Plus, you know, Happy already has an assigned private floor, so it’s mostly a question of packing and moving stuff from your apartment,” Tony joined them. “And you would have the help of superhumans and Pepper Potts to plan everything.”
“Oh, the last thing makes the best argument. How’s wedding planning going anyway?”
“Well, it would go better if Tony listened to me. We have a cake tasting scheduled next week.”
“You know, we could just take Peter, feed him cakes and ask him which one he likes best. It would be faster. I swear his stomach has no bottom.”
“What?” Peter turned towards them at the sound of his name.
“Only if you are dealing with his sugar high, Tony,” May chuckled
“Hey, guys, I can hear you!”
Before they could continue they heard Steve clearing his throat. He got up and looked like he was about to give a speech.
“Last week was very hard for all of us,” he started. “We are very pleased that everyone important is able to be here. Me and Bucky have some important news to share and we are glad that you are the first to hear that. Without further ado, we decided to get married.”
Cheers and questions erupted immediately. Everyone congratulated and the toasts started.
Tony looked at the large table. Maybe titles didn’t matter. But the only thing that he could think was that after all these years, they became a family somewhere along the way. Big, loud and unconventional, a patchwork family, that wouldn’t make sense to a stranger. There were still a lot of issues that needed to be solved in the long run, but at that moment they were the happiest people on Earth.
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wordsfromthesol · 5 years
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Out of Place (3/6)
Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: Meeting Dick, and the rest of the batboys.  You’re confused, since you are nowhere near Bludhaven or Gotham. Some tragedies, some battles, etc. Happy ending because I’m a sap. Warnings: Language, blood and torture and other injuries, light smut Word Count: 1.5k A/N: I’m almost finished with the story and hope to post the rest soon.
Part 1   Part 2   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6
You watched vigilantly, while making mindless conversation with some patriarchal asshole. He did most of the talking, so it was easy for you to keep an eye on the boys, even if you weren’t entirely sure what this plan of theirs was. Suddenly, you see a fire fight break out. Fuck. Everyone on the beach was scattering, you lost your cover for being there. You ran over to a nearby tree and climbed. Hoping to stay out of sight, while making sure these two didn’t die. You see John pined to the ground with a sword at his throat. Well I guess that’s where all the cuts came from. Jason was nowhere to be seen. Come on John, get up. You seen the pain grimaced on his face. You knew it was too soon for him to be back in the field. Fuck. I’m so going to regret this. You jumped from your hiding place and rolled onto the ground. The assailant glanced up, unsure of what kind of foe you were. You whipped the gun from your waistband and shot directly at the swordsman’s shoulder. Wincing the figure was thrown backwards just enough that Nightwing was freed. He ran over to you.
“Y/N! What the fuck were you thinking?!”
“That you were going to be killed. It was whelming.” Your lips turned upward into a smirk. “I’m going to go back into hiding now, stay safe!” Without a thought you pecked him on the cheek and ran into the darkness. Climbing a nearby tree, you sat watching the fight unfold once more.
Jason ran over, “Fuck dude, I thought you were a goner. Where the fuck did Y/N come from?”
“I don’t even know. I just hope she’s safe.”
The two turned back to back as six men surrounded them. Thankfully, the two leaguers had taken off. This was not the job they were paid to do. Little did you know; their job was more centered around you than the two vigilantes.
Pulling up to your apartment, you helped John up the stairs. Several of his wounds had reopened. Thankfully, no more life-threatening ones were given. You fixed up both Jason and John and slumped onto the couch.
“Oh Jay,” not even thinking about the nickname you had just given him, “if you want a change of clothes, I bought a few things for John. Ya’ll are about the same size.”
The boys excuse was to go get clean clothes. Though you knew they were probably talking about the mission.
“Jay?” Dick questioned.
“I don’t know, maybe she heard you say it”
“Hmm..mm. Well, the leaguers got away. What do you think they were after?”
“Clearly, not the drugs. Or the gang dealing them.”
“Fuck. This isn’t over is it, Red?”
“’Fraid not Dickiebird”
Jason hopped in the shower, and John plopped on the couch next to you.
“Looks like this thing isn’t over”
“Yeah, I gathered that we the sword freak got away”
“You…you mind if we stay?”
“What kind of nurse would I be if I said no, Dickiebird?”
After the initial shock had passed, “Were you ease dropping, Y/N/N?”
“Blame my upbringing,” nonchalantly waving your hand. “Plus, it is my apartment.”
After a few moments in silence, you turned towards him, “Alright, so 1. That’s a weird ass nickname, John. 2. What the fuck are these guys after, if not drugs? 3. Who the fuck is the league?”
*Sigh* “I guess I should read you in…My name is actually Richard, but I go by Dick…hence how Jay came up with the colorful nickname. We have absolutely no clue, we thought it was just the drugs, and now Razorburn saw your face.” Dick put his head in his hands. “The League of Assassins is the full name, and the name is pretty self-explanatory. Razorburn is one of Ra’s al Ghul’s personal hitman. If he’s here, that can only mean more trouble will follow. Me and Jay may need more backup.”
“Ra’s al Ghul is…”
“The leader, the Demon.”
“Great…look, Dick, are you sure this is your job? I get you’re a superhero or whatever, but isn’t there someone else that can do this?”
“Y/N/N, I do this because I’m the someone else that can. I’ve trained since I was nine years old. Even earlier for some types of training. I can’t risk the lives of the police, they would have no idea what they are getting into.”
Jason steps out of the bathroom and sees Dick’s hand and yours intertwined. “You love birds need some more room? Plenty of things I can do in the bathroom…”
“Don’t you dare…” you growl at him, quickly pulling your hand away from Dick’s. “Right, well. You guys call whoever you need, not sure how many more can fit in my apartment…but whatever. I need a drink.” You see Dick glance over at the bottles of wine on the counter. “I need a strong drink.” Quickly you grab your keys and walk out the door.
“Jay, follow her…will ya? I am in desperate need of a shower.”
Though the words didn’t even need to be said, Jason was already headed towards the door.
Soon, weeks had gone by. You had gone back to your normal life. The boys had left. Though, both kept up with you. Guess you made an impression. Surprisingly Dick had come to visit you nearly every weekend. Jay even tagged along every once in a while.
Now almost a year had passed.
Dick stumbled out from your bedroom to find you, unshockingly, at the coffee machine. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Dick…you okay?” Yeah, you slept in the same bed, but it’s not like anything ever happened. You two were best friends, yeah you tossed the idea around, but no. It was Grayson, your best friend, and this…this was very out of character.
“Yeah, just…just needed a hug I guess.”
“Have a bad patrol?”
He looked up at the ceiling, “Yeah, I didn’t make it in time.” He remembered the young girl. She looked just like you. That’s what really got him, though he wouldn’t admit that out loud.
He had gotten in late last night, so you figured he hopped on Bruce’s plane as soon as his patrol was over. You don’t even think he showered, just pulled off his costume and put on the sweatpants he left there. What you didn’t know, is he really didn’t sleep at all. Just crawled into bed and pulled you in close. He was thankful you were sleeping heavily that night, because all he needed was your touch. He pulled away as soon as you started to stir and drifted to sleep for a few short moments.
“Dick” you cupped your hands around his face, “you can’t save everyone. You have to be grateful for the people that get another chance at life. Thanks to you.” You walked towards the bedroom and called out “I’m thinking it’s a pool day. Grab some coffee and meet me down there?” He nodded as you walked into your room and put your suit on. A few minutes later Dick joined you at the pool downstairs. It was still too early for anyone else to be out.
Razorburn, however, was hardly a person. He laid in the valley of the pool house roof. Head barely peaking over the ridge. He had been watching for weeks, waiting for Ra’s al Ghul signal to strike. Finally, he saw Cheshire leaping from the rooftops. It was time. Dick should’ve spotted the two, but his mind was still clouded from the events that transpired the night before. The events that Ra’s al Ghul had set up. He needed Grayson’s mind clouded. He needed you out of the apartment and focused on Grayson.
Cheshire bounded, and landed on your apartment’s patio. She waltzed into the apartment, however, she was not expecting the Red Hood to be on your couch.
*Back at the pool*
“Oh, Jay’s here”
“Really? Look, I’ve got both my boys this weekend” you smiled up at him from the water.
“Yeah, he’s pissed at dad…big shocker there.”
“You know there is always room for you two here. I’ll go up and say hi. I could use a mimosa anyways…” you winked his way and got out of the pool.
“Oh…Irish coffee!” He called after you as he sat on the pool chair.
You walked up the stairs and heard a crash coming from your apartment. Shit. You ran to the other side of the building and screamed, “DICK!”
You saw him racing towards your apartment, but you had to see if Jay was okay. You opened the door to find your things massacred. Jay and a woman in a cat mask were grappling on the floor. You rushed to your room, to grab your gun.
“Y/N, don’t!” Jason called after you.
It was too late, you stood face to face with Razorburn. You had been in martial arts training since meeting the boys. But a year of practice hardly compared to the skills of the assassin.
Dick raced into the apartment and headed immediately towards his brother, pinned down on the floor. Cheshire jumped back, freeing Jason.
“Get Y/N! I’ve got this!”
Dick looked around frantic and ran to the bedroom. Just in time to see Razorburn exit through the window with you on his shoulder.
“They’ve got her Jay! Don’t let Cheshire leave, I’m following…” the rest of Dick’s sentence was cut short as he leaped from the window.
“Well…where are you taking her?”
Cheshire smirked as the two cautiously went in circles. “Oh little birdie, you really don’t know your Y/N very well do you?”
“What do you mean? She is not involved in any of this.”
“Maybe not intentionally, but some very powerful men want something she has. Or at least, something she can get,” she waved her hands around, “that’s not my information to give.” She winked and ran to the balcony door.
“Fuck.” Jay didn’t even have the energy for a chase. Dick was already after Razorburn. Jason pulled out his phone.
“Tim, I need your help. Me and Dick both. You need to get to Y/Address, now.” He didn’t even wait for a response.
Soon after Dick stumbled into the apartment. “I fucking lost her. How…how did I lose her?”
“Tim’s on his way.”
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anousiemay · 4 years
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The Angel & The Devil Ch. 1 A Lie Burns Many Bridges
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Guardian and The Red Hood are hot on the trail of Black Mask. Trying to find just what he has invested in this time. In an attempt to find answers, The Red Hood does something he instantly regrets, putting his relationship with Guardian on the rocks. Can he salvage their relationship or will he lose another person in his life? Another gorgeous commission by @symeona​ and another fic by yours truly! While the moment I pictured this image doesn’t appear till chapter 4 I thought it’d be a good placeholder hehe. Another Jason x Anita fic cos I’m in love with them being in love. This fic is also on ao3!  https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anousie/ ----- "Are we going to be meeting this 'Angel' you keep mumbling about?" In the little time Jason had spent with his new teammates, he'd learnt that Artemis is not one to beat around the bush. In fact, she'd most likely beat the metaphorical bush to bits if need be.
The long flight back to Qurac had eased Jason's mind but left his body weary. It was the first time in years that Jay had ever felt so tired. Especially after facing his past and stopping a crazed Amazonian from killing hundreds with the Bow of Ra. It could be said this was all in a day's work for someone of his profession. But as the plane’s wheels touched Gotham Airport tarmac, his heart began to ache. For now, he was back in Gotham with his relationship with Anita most definitely on the rocks. "Yes, Princess. You both will, but I'd prefer if I was alone with her first." "Red Him am embarrassed by Red Her and Bizarro?" Oh Bizarro, precious, brutally strong Bizarro. Jason was much more embarrassed in himself. "No of course not, big guy. But Guardian and I probably aren't on the best terms right now." "You are lucky we are in a public place or I would have thrown you fifty yards. Do not call me princess." Artemis spat as she rose from her seat on the plane. Ah yes, he forgot about that. That's what he'd say if he was lying. "Sorry," He really wasn't. "Well, I guess I'll take you guys to one of my safehouses. C'mon, I need a shower." "Oh good, I swear your jacket was becoming a part of your flesh." "Red Him am made of jacket?" "No, Bizarro. I am not."
- - - - The safehouse was surprisingly spacious enough for all three of the Outlaws to occupy. Artemis had placed her axe in the kitchen when they arrived. To which Jason had promptly asked her to leave it in her room. Bizarro on the other hand, was fascinated by the PS4 currently humming and the controller Jason had placed in his hand. "Give it a shot, B. Skyrim's a pretty good game." Then, once sure the two were settled and not putting their weapons in kitchens; Jason grabbed some spare clothes and jumped into the shower. How good it felt to be under hot water. Jason took this moment of solitude to reflect on the past few weeks. Two weeks ago, Anita, known as Guardian to the public, and himself had been hot on the trail of Black Mask's latest investment. The Angel and Devil (aptly named by goons due to her wings and his red helmet) were scaring thugs and opening crates of 'funky techno shit' as Anita had called it nightly. But neither were getting anywhere. Dead end after unconscious thug with no real lead on just what Black Mask was planning. That's when Jason had turned to Bruce, asking him to trust his wayward son with taking down Black Mask himself. "You want me to pretend I know nothing? She won't buy it for a second, Jason." Bruce had been rather shocked by Jason’s latest proposition. "I know, I don't need her to buy it. But if she knows what I’m doing she'll hold back. It's the only way." "Wasn't it a while back you and the others were adamant, we'd be honest with one another?" Bruce uttered as he opened a few files on the Bat Computer. Jason laughed then, Bruce did too. Neither were that good at being honest. "She won't be happy, Jason. She's not like us. It was hard for her to get her around being a meta and now you're doing this?" Jason sighed, how could he forget? Anita had been a mess, he had let her down and couldn't save her in time from the bastard who implanted the meta-gene. But now she was Guardian, a symbol of hope for Gothamites and himself. She was a good person; mask on or off. But Jason well, Jason wasn't always a good person, even if she disagreed. He left soon after, his response dangling in the air. "I have to, Bruce. It's the only way."
- - - It was April 12th and the moon was hung high in the air. No clouds in Gotham meant there'd be a lot of evil out tonight. Guardian peered through her night vision binoculars for the third time in 3 minutes, she was insanely bored. Red Hood had briefed her that The Bowery had seen a lot more foot traffic than usual in the construction site across from the apartment building roof she sat on. They were to watch the place for any unusual activity. At least she had some food to keep her occupied. "So, what do you think of Gina's Kebabs?" She asked through her microphone, trying not to stain her white outfit as she took another bite.
A small crackle from her earpiece, then Red Hood’s deep voice cut through the midnight wind: "I think it's more grease than lamb, Angel. I'd give it a 3 sober. What about you?"
Guardian giggled, "Well my chicken one is actually pretty warm still, so I give it a 5 for its longevity."
"You're definitely the nicer mark out of us two." Red Hood responded, an airy chuckle leaving his throat. "Oh, Red. I'm the nicer everything out of us." "Excuse you? I have a hotter bod than yours." Guardian faked a gasp, but he had played himself into a trap: "That’s not what’cha said last night." "I wasn't sober!" "Exactly, you were drunk on this fine glass of wine." Guardian stood up and shook her hips, knowing the vigilante on the building across from her was watching. "Just shut up and watch the roads."
"Aww, you're precious, babe." Guardian teased but resumed watching the roads below. 30 minutes passed before finally, something happened: a large truck reversed into the opened shutter of a warehouse next to the construction site. 5 minutes later, two men came out on motorbikes and sped off towards Founders Island. Bingo. "Shall we give chase?" Guardian was already extending her wings before Red Hood surprised her. "No, let's see what they've left. Bats can handle them." She spotted his silhouetted figure grapple down from his building. "Are you sure the grease in that kebab didn't poison you? This is our chance to get some info!" Guardian questioned as she flew down to the warehouse, meeting her partner who was already trying to lift the metal door. "Or break some bones for absolutely nothing." He huffed out, Guardian sighed and grabbed the metal door, throwing it up with one hand. "Since when were you against breaking bones?" "Anita." His voice was stern, Red wasn't kidding around. "Jason?" She shot back; this wasn't like him. The tall man sighed and took off his helmet, he only ever did that when he wanted to get a point across. Or make out, but she doubted that was the reason this time. "I just think it'd be better for us to keep our eyes on whatever they've bought here. We can catch up with them another time, but what if what's on this truck is the answer to what Black Mask is up to?" "But why would he leave it here unguarded if it was, Jay? It makes no sense, it'd have to be some dud shipment, right?"
Damnit, she was too smart for her own good. But Jason had one more card up his sleeve.
"Just humour me?"
The two stared at each other for a few beats before Anita finally sighed and walked into the warehouse. "Fine, but you owe me a Banana Split from Freddie's when you see that I'm right." "Yes ma'am." Jason affirmed before clicking his helmet back on. The two waltzed over to the back of the truck and Anita ripped the metal back off, placing it next to them. "Your super strength is getting easier to handle?" Jason questioned, pressing their bodies close as they peered into the trucks back. "Yeah and the wings aren't playing up as much either." Anita admitted, in fact her powers had been functioning well these past few nights. Jason smiled from under his helmet, running a gloved hand along her feathers. "You do look beautiful with them, you know?" Anita blushed at the compliment, still feeling rather insecure about them. "You trying to butter me up, so you don't have to get me a Banana Split?" "No! Maybe… Is it working?" "Tell me I have a better bod than you and I'll reconsider." Anita teased as the two began grabbing crates and opening them on the warehouse floor. "I'd have to perform a full examination to know." He poked back swiftly. "Ugh, men."
After going through all the crates, Anita let out an exasperated sigh. "See? I told you it was a dud shipment. But why would he have one? What do you think Red?" Anita waited a few moments; hearing Jason unlatch one of his guns from its thigh holster. "Red?"
A small click then a loud bang. Guardian fell to the ground in pain, looking at her leg she saw a bullet lodged into her kneecap and blood staining her suit. But Guardian doesn't bleed, she hasn't since she got these wings. Just what the hell was in these bullets? Her head started feeling light but willed herself to look up at the shooter: Red Hood held his pistol at her now sweating forehead. Pulling the chamber back and wrapping his finger tight on the trigger. The only thought that passed through Anita's head was: ‘What the fuck?!’
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talatomaz · 5 years
Text
changed | dinah drake x sister!reader
a/n: i haven’t posted any arrowverse fics in a while
prompts: “all i ever wanted to do is keep you safe”
warnings: references to assault, loss, angst
word count: 2.2k
masterlist | request list | request rules
reader can generate force fields and got her powers from the particle accelerator explosion
i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated
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They say that when you die in a dream, you die in real life. But you could actually say that wasn’t true; because you died in a dream, and what happened to you was much stranger than that...
You had been living in Star City for the past few years so you had basically been there since the Glades had been levelled. You saw Slade Wilson and his “mini me’s”, and yes, they were far from mini but still, try and destroy the city.
You were there when the city was almost exposed to a toxic virus and most importantly, when Damien Darhk tried to destroy the world and in the process, he murdered ADA Laurel Lance who was revealed to be the Black Canary.
But now it seemed like there was a new Canary in town.
***
You were walking down the poorly lit street when you heard movement behind you. You slightly lifted your head, noting the movement before continuing to walk.
You heard the light footsteps grow closer until you could practically feel the person behind you breathing down your neck. You got ready to turn and face the person behind you when you were pushed into a dumpster in the alleyway.
“Hey there, pretty. Wanna have some fun?”
The voice came out rough and it took almost everything in you to not laugh. This guy had no idea what he had gotten himself into.
“Unfortunately no, I think I’ll pass.”
You moved to walk past him but ended up getting pushed into the dirty wall.
“It wasn’t a request, bitch.”
“Well, you asked me and I said no. Therefore, request denied. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
You went to push him off you but he grabbed a knife and placed it threateningly close to your neck. You glanced down at the knife and then back up to the man.
Just as you were about to get out of this situation, the man fell to the floor with a thump. Your head shot up to the fire escape that was opposite you and you saw two figures shadowed by the dark standing there and the hairs on your neck went up.
“You’re welcome.” A deep voice broke through the silence of the night.
“Thanks, but I had that.”
The moment you spoke, you noticed the feminine figure next to the guy straighten. You looked back down at the guy who tried to attack you and saw an arrow was in his back so you pulled it out and held it out.
“You might want this back, Green Arrow.”
When you mentioned the vigilante’s name, he jumped down from the metal stairs and emerged into the minimal light that the lamp post was providing.
“I know leaving arrows is practically your calling card but it’s not exactly very smart considering this can be traced back to you.” You explained, handing the arrow over to the vigilante.
“Never has been before.”
“Well, if you left it with me, I could probably trace it and I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want that.”
“Of course not.” He replied roughly.
“Is she just gonna stay there?”
You asked, looking back up at the female vigilante who was still concealed in the shadows. You figured that it was most likely the Black Canary considering the attire she was wearing.
At this, the Canary jumped down and the moment that she came into the light, it felt like you had been hit by a hundred trucks.
“Dinah?”
***
“Leave me alone, for the love of God!”
You shouted, walking away from your sister for what seemed like the 5th time this week.
It had been almost a month since you and Dinah had your long-awaited, beautiful family reunion, sarcasm implied, and ever since then, she had been badgering you at every turn, trying to get you to say more than 10 words to her.
And because she was a detective, it meant that she was able to find your contact and address details. Great.
“Would you just talk to me? Please.” She pleaded.
“Dinah, you’ve had the past 3 years to talk to me. So too little, too late.”
You continued walking but after a few beats of suspicious silence, you turned and saw Dinah was no longer behind you.
She had left again.
What a surprise.
You turned back around and before you could scream, you felt a sharp prick in the side of your neck and a bag being placed over your head and then everything went black.
***
Ugh. Everything hurt. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t see. Everything was dark.
You blinked a couple of times, allowing yourself to return back to reality. You were in a dark room. Your throat was too dry to scream.
They’re going to kill you.
No.
Breathe.
The last thing you remembered was being grabbed outside and the jab of a needle in your neck.
Son of a bitch drugged you.
You froze. You heard movement beside you.
Dinah.
“Psst, Dinah. Drake. Dee, wake up!”
You half whispered and half shouted. You heard light groans beside you and practically felt Dinah become alert.
“Shit, what the fuck? Y/n, you okay, baby girl?”
The use of your nickname brought a sense of comfort to you in a situation where there was hardly none.
“Yeah, I’m good. What the hell is going on?”
“Well, that was as good an entrance line as any.”
A voice said behind you before moving to face the both of you.
“Hi, there. I’m Jeffery Daniels and I’m going to kill you.” He laughed. “Well, that is if I don’t get what I want.”
“And that would be what exactly?”
“Well, I’d like you, Captain Drake, to lead me to the anti vigilante weapons treasury.”
“And if I don’t?” She spat back.
“Well,” he took out his gun and aimed it at your head, “I’ll just go ahead and kill your baby sister.”
He let the threat linger for a couple of seconds.
“I’ll give you a few moments to think it over.” He said, leaving the room the same way he entered.
“I’m not letting him kill you. I’ve just got you back.”
“Dinah, you act like I care. I really don’t.”
“Since when did you not care about your life, y/n?”
“I’ve changed, Dinah. And the most important thing right now is that he cannot get those weapons. You cannot let him get those weapons. And if I have to die to make sure he never does, I don’t-”
“Y/N DRAKE.”
You stopped talking, feeling like you were a kid again.
“I will not allow you to sacrifice your life. Hell, neither of us are dying tonight.”
“Oh really? And you know that how?”
***
“That’s how.”
Dinah Drake said, helping you out of the ropes that bound you to the chair.
When Daniels had returned, Dinah stalled for as long as she could until Green Arrow and the rest of the team came crashing through the window and began a full-blown shootout with Daniels and his men.
It turned out that Dinah had a tracking device in her boot and that was how Felicity was able to trace your guys’ location.
You had all helped to defeat Daniels’ men so only Daniels, himself, remained.
“Well, looks like we’ve got a bit of a predicament here.”
He said, showing the remote that was in his hand and the bombs that were strapped around his body.
“I press this, we all die. So you can either die or let me go and live.”
The Green Arrow and Speedy aimed their arrows at Jeffery as Wild Dog and Spartan did the same with their guns.
“Press it.” You said, shocking your sister and the rest of the team.
“What?”
“Do it. We’re not gonna let you go.”
After a few moments, the man smiled a grinch-like smile, “If you say so.”
And before anyone could do anything, he pressed the button which triggered the explosion. The whole team began to try and escape but you stood there, knowing that you’d only have a second to do what you had to.
But a second was all you needed.
The moment that button was pressed, you put your hands forward and concentrated as hard as you could. You successfully focused all of your energy on containing the explosion so Jeffery Daniels was stuck in a massive purple force field along with the bomb.
After a few moments, the energy of the bomb disintegrated and your force field disappeared to reveal a severely burned Jeffery Daniels.
You turned to look at the whole of Team Arrow who were looking at you with both shock and confusion. Your sister was completely shell-shocked; her mouth was formed as if she wanted to speak but no words came out.
“I told you I’ve changed.”
***
“Wait, just one more time.” Felicity asked.
You were all back at the Arrow cave and you had explained how you gained your powers almost 5 times already.
“Fine, just once more. I was dreaming that I got crushed by a large truck that fell from the sky and I had my arms extended to try and protect myself but the moment that I died, I woke up and next thing I knew, every time I wanted to protect myself, I created some sort of force field.”
“Awesome.” Thea commented for the fifth time, making you shake your head and roll your eyes.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” You heard Dinah murmur.
“Excuse me?” You said, turning to face her. “I believe you‘re the one who’s keeping the secrets here, Dinah.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Forget it.” You muttered, walking off to the lift.
You just wanted to get as far away from her as possible.
She’d never understand.
“No. Walking away isn’t going to solve anything.”
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
You swiftly turned around and walked back up to your sister.
“You’re right. It solves nothing. So why in the hell did you walk away?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You left me. For three fucking years! I get that you were mourning Vinny. I so get that. But three fucking years, Dinah. You were gone for 3 years!” You shouted, tears filling your eyes.
The entire team was watching your outburst, but honestly, you couldn’t care less. It seemed like it was only you and Dinah were in the room.
“I had to leave.”
“Why? Why’d you have to leave?”
“After Vinny died, I couldn’t think. All I wanted to do was kill Sonus.”
“I get that but you didn’t even tell me. You just left. I was 16, Dinah. And I had no one. No one. Mum was gone. Dad was with one of his whores, as per usual, and when I needed my big sister the most, she wasn’t there.”
“I’m so sorry, y/n.”
You laughed dryly, “You want me to say what to that? I understand that you went through a terrible few years. But so did I and not once did you reach out to me. For fuck’s sake, Dinah, I almost died. Twice! And I couldn’t tell you because I had no idea where you were.”
“Dying in your dream doesn’t count, y/n.”
You heard Felicity murmur behind you but she and the rest of the team decided to give you some privacy when you gave her a death stare. You’d apologise later.
“I’m not talking about my dream. I almost died in real life. Once by one of Deathstroke’s minions. And…” You trailed off.
“And the other? Y/n?” Dinah added when you didn’t say anything.
“It was my 18th birthday. I’d gone out with a few people and we’d all gotten very tipsy and everyone wanted to stay and drink more but I bailed early. I was missing you and just wanted to be alone. Looking back, I probably should have stayed.”
“What happened?” Dinah asked, her teeth gritted, almost scared to hear the answer.
“I was attacked. I was too drunk to properly use my powers but I somehow managed to get away and ran all the way back to my apartment.” You explained, a betraying tear fell as you relived the memory.
“I’m so sorry, y/n.”
Dinah said, engulfing you in a hug after so long without one. Tears began to shamelessly spill from both of your eyes as you hugged each other close.
“All I’ve ever wanted to do is keep you safe and I failed.”
“Dinah Drake, you have failed this city.”
You joked, and then you both laughed through your tears when you heard Oliver shout, “That’s my line.”
“I love you so much, y/n. And I promise, I’ll never leave you again.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Dinah.” You said, pulling away from the hug to look into her eyes.
“Trust me, baby girl. This is the one promise I intend to keep.”
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jordanlahey · 6 years
Text
Girl Behind The Mask (1)
Chapter Title: A Secret Worth Keeping
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Avengers x Reader (eventually)
Summary: You live a double life; perfect student by day and a masked vigilante by night. One night your vigilante actives goes down hill and it’s has caught the eye of the Avengers and the Government. The government make you sound like a criminal while the Avengers try and find the girl behind the mask, the youngest Avenger takes this as an opportunity to prove himself to Tony. It’s a shame that the girl Peter is crushing on is wanted by the Government.
Chapter Warnings: Language, minor mention of violence
Word Count: 1198
A/N: Finaly got the first chapter written, sorry for the long wait but as I’ve said before I’m going through some crappy stuff but I’m trying my best to deliver to you guys:) italics are for Violet’s persona
A Secret Worth Keeping, Sleep? Sorry don’t know her, Straight A, My Daily Night Routine, Criminal Activity, Government Runaway, Bad Example, See Now You’ve Just Made it Awkward, Your Secret Identity Should Be Your Only Identity, Under The Avengers Eye, I Can Explain, Second Chance, Screw Up, You Are Just A Teenager, Can You Not Make Things Anymore Worse?, I Call It Quits, Under House Arrest, Clear Your Name, All Better Now
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“You little shit!” One of the robbers grunted, rubbing his jaw as you swiftly performed a roundhouse kick.
“Nope, I’m Violet nice to-” You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. You were far too busy trying to kick ass at the moment.
You caught 4 masked robbers trying to break into the local store on your travels home, at first you were thinking you’d leave it for the Friendly Neighbourhood Spiderman but decided against it so you got changed and here you are; taking on 4 men half your age who fight like a bunch of candyasses. They were pretty easy to take on considering you always had the upper hand and not once did you have to break out your batons until now. You heard one of them trying to sneak up behind you but as you were about to whack him with your baton he was hanging from the shop gutter by a web.
“I had him.” You huffed and turned around to face your favourite superhero. As usual he tried to find the right ‘manly’ pose by leaning on the nearby lamppost.
“Uh...I’m sure you did Violet.” He stuttered, you loved it when he did that, it’s confirmation that there is a real person underneath the mask.
“Well then, Thanks for saving my ass Spidey.” If you didn’t have your mask on you would have totally gave him a playful wink and smirk but unfortunately you do have it on. Turning on your heels you head down the nearest alleyway, it was the one that was closer to your home and it was easier to climb to your window without getting caught by your parents or nosey neighbours.
Spiderman tried to keep up with you but as soon as he turned the corner down the same alleyway you were gone. He wanted to meet you the real you not Violet, The Masked Vigilante of Queens. You always seemed to be there before him and he wonders why that is. Maybe he’ll bring it up next time you two encounter. 
Your eyes shot open when your alarm clock rings. ‘Every time.’ It always gives you a heart attack in the morning. You groan, dragging your hand down your face and being to pull yourself to the bathroom. You turn on the light and pass the mirror and sigh.
“Jeez I look like crap, I need to stop pulling all nighters and fighting crime but am I going to listen to myself? Pfft no. I look great for someone who does that.” You talk to your reflection and laugh that you are actually talking to yourself. You strip yourself of your night attire and jump in the shower, you winced at the feeling of the cold water hitting your skin but sighed when the hot water warmed you up.
After getting washed and dressed you hop down the stairs and headed to the kitchen, passing your father reading the newspaper with his mug of coffee in hand you give him a kiss on the cheek and make yourself some cereal.
“Morning Princess.” Your dad greeted as you sat on the countertop munching on your cereal, you were about to reply when your mother rushed into the kitchen picking up her keys and coffee takeaway cup.
“Morning sweetie, I’m already late for work but I love you and see you tonight.” You mother kissed your head then kissed your father’s cheek and rushed out the door. Your mother worked early in the mornings till late at night, most of the time she doesn’t come home till 5 in the morning the next day.
“Are you needing a lift to school today?” Your father looked up from his newspaper and smiled. Your father didn’t work until round about lunch time.
“No thank you, I’m going to meet up with Ned and Peter.” You get off the counter and put your bowl in the dishwasher. “We have a couple of things to go over for our chemistry assignment.” Your father nodded and carried on sipping his coffee. You and your father got on well enough, in his eyes you were to be the perfect daughter. The perfect student. A perfect person. Oh but if he knew that you kicked ass in a purple bodysuit with only a hood and a mask to conceal your identity and choose the name ‘Violet’ as your alias, he would probably kick your ass himself. At least you didn’t have any ‘out of the ordinary’ abilities your just great in hand to hand combat and also pretty lethal with your batons.
“Have a good day at school, Sweetie.” You motioned at the door as you walked passed. You shouted a quick goodbye as you ran down the street in hope that you haven’t missed Ned and Peter.
“I’m telling you Peter, I would be a great man in the chair. You know? Telling you where to go and stuff like a shadow.” Ned rambled as he and Peter made their way to school.
“I don’t need a man in the chair Ned.” Peter protested, it’s not the he didn’t want Ned to, he just didn’t want to get anyone hurt.
“Well you already have a sidekick so why not a man in the chair.” Peter stopped walking and looked at his best friend.
“Excuse me? Sidekick?” He raised his eyebrows in confusion l, ned rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone.
“Yes dumbass, last night some dude recorded a robbery and this girl in a mask shows up and beats the crap outta them then you show up and finish the job.” Ned shows him the video and Peter knew he was talking about Violet, he always wanted to know who she really was behind the mask.
“Whatcha watchin’?” Both boys flinched at the sound of your voice and turned around to see you smiling at the two of them.
“Y/n? Where the hell did you come from?” Ned inhaled deeply and you chuckled. “You know what don’t answer that, you’ll come up with your terrible sarcastic jokes.”
“Aww you know me to well Ned.” You patted his shoulder. “Shall we gentlemen?” You gestures them to start walking with you. You loved that Peter looked like a lost puppy when you turned up unexpectedly it sent you a giddy feeling. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh it was a Spider-Man video.” Peter piped up and looked at the floor as the three of you made your way to school.
“Not bad, who was the girl in the purple?” You knew obviously but you were just making conversation.
“No idea, but she doesn’t seem to be a threat.” Peter lied, he knew too but not that it was you and you are no threat.
“Well whoever she is, I bet she doesn't want to be in the public eye as much as Spider-Man maybe like a shadow someone to take care of things when Spidey is busy.” You shrugged in suggestion, maybe that was a little too obvious or detailed but they wouldn’t have a clue. Or so you thought, Peter caught on quick and looked at you in suspicion.
“Maybe.”
Tags
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kurly-quill · 6 years
Text
Robin’s Nest Cafe (part 1)
So, here goes nothing! This will probably have more than one part, but will likely be non-chronological. 
Pairings: JayTim, maybe future JayDickTim 
Rating: Mature for Language [for now] 
Coffee Shop AU (sort of), Civilian!Tim (mostly?)
         Part 1 - Part 2
(1) Hot Chocolate
The first thing to know about Gothamites, is that they are objectively, irrevocably rude as fuck.
It’s not like New York City, where people bustle past without so much as a nod of acknowledgement because they have somewhere to be and don’t have time for pleasantries, or the aggressive shoving on the metro in Tokyo, or God forbid, like Metropolis, where people born past 1930 still tip their hats at passerby.
No, the average Gothamite would see you, without an umbrella, soaking wet, and shake their umbrella off on you on the way inside. If you gave up your seat to an elderly Gothamite on the train, they would sooner say fuck you than thank you. If you tried to mug a Gothamite, they would probably punch you in the face and steal your wallet, because, hell, you’d be the fifth person to try it this week.
And Tim, for all of his “good breeding” and “respectable upbringing” is, at his very core, a Gothamite.
His smile is so wide that he’s baring teeth, and while it doesn’t match the snarl on the face across from him, it’s no less able to convey the sheer amounts of fuck you very much, have a fucktastic day!!
“I ain’t sayin’ it again -” the man bellows, spit hitting Tim’s face and, ew, probably his lips too, “- give me the money inna register ‘afore things get ugly!”
His eyes glimmer with the sharpness of the icicles hanging outside along the shop window, barely sparing the knife shaking under his chin a second glance.
It’s 11 pm on Friday night, and the cafe is still open because Gotham never really sleeps and Tim lives above the shop, anyway. Behind Knife Guy, there’s a few people in line, displaying varying degrees of concern.
(1- was born in a Gotham alleyway, please if you’re going to stab the cashier just do it I’ll pour the coffee myself, 5 - been in Gotham for awhile, kinda worried but Killer Croc smashed my car last week and I just really need a coffee, 10 - visiting Gotham for the first time this weekend-- and the last time.)
Tim looks skyward, praying for strength. There are cobwebs up there he’s never noticed.
“Sorry, the money in the register is a seasonal flavor. But hey, bright side, we’ve just got peppermint mocha back in, so I can ring you up for that instead?”
Knife Guy gapes for a second, squinting at Tim like he expects him to start tap dancing any second now. Tim raises a brow, patient. With a frustrated snarl, the knife jolts forward enough that it clicks against Tim’s nametag, chipping at the edge of the black and yellow batman sticker beside his name, which is his favorite sticker so excuse you.
“Look, I’ll make you a deal. Either you put away the knife and order a peppermint mocha with christmas tree sprinkles, and we pretend this never happened, or we do it the less fun way, with the GCPD. Who are a total buzzkill, by the way, believe me. Your choice.”
There’s an eye-twitch, and a change in the man’s expression that makes Tim’s finely-honed Gotham instincts go “oh damn, here we go”, when someone opens up the front door with far too much strength, the glass rattling with the force of its inward swing. The freezing night wind billows in, the scent of oil and snow filtering through the warmer scents of the cafe. There’s an unceremonious tinkle of the bell dangling on the doorframe, and beneath it stands another man.
Tim stares. Knife Guy stares. One of the customers looks up from her phone, groans long and loud, grabs her triple-espresso hazelnut latte with caramel drizzle, and walks out into the late-November chill.
The Red Hood holds the door open for her, because he’s a fucking gentleman.
The door swinging shut with another tinkle, and there’s a pause filled only with catchy holiday jingles that have been playing over the radio since September. Hood surveys the scene before strolling toward the counter.
“Damn, lemme tell ya, it’s cold as fuckin’ balls out there,” Hood laments, with absolutely zero prompting, rubbing his hands together as though he’d gain any friction through the gauntlets. He stops just short of where Tim and Knife Guy are facing off, the blade hovering threateningly in the air just under Tim’s chin. Hood cocks his head.
“Am I interrupting somethin’?”
Tim takes a quick second to make sure that, if he opens his mouth, his jaw won’t hit the floor, before he replies, “Just regular customer service in Gotham. Hope you’re not here for the money in the register too - We’re fresh out of stock. Moving onto the Winter Menu, you know?”
Hood nods, making what sounds like an understanding hum through the voice synthesizers, “Some people just never check the website. Read you’ve got a mean gingerbread latte on special.”
Tim would respond, except now the knife is shaking to a worrying degree– Knife Guy is scared shitless, because the Red Hood is nearly shoulder-to-shoulder– or, well, shoulder-to-bicep with him, because the man is huge and smells very distinctly of cigarette smoke and blood. Tim would sympathize if he wasn’t having an internal fangasm to end all fangasms at this moment.
In a display of panic-borne, truly ballsy stupidity (unfortunately, also a common trait amongst Gothamites, particularly the ones that rob cafes at knife-point at just the hour the Bats tend to come out), Knife Guy whips the knife to the side to turn on the vigilante.
Hood’s got the knife out of the guy’s hand in an instant– Tim has just enough reflexes to grab the steaming cup of caffeine goodness that’s sitting innocently in harm’s way– and in the next second he’s grabbing the guy by the hair and slamming his head backwards onto the counter, spine bent at an angle that makes the onlookers flinch. A few more scurry out the door. There are other places to get a caffeine fix.
“Look here,” Hood growls, No-Knife Guy going cross-eyed as the knife points straight at his nose, “I ain’t lookin for a side of stitches with my candy cane hot chocolate with heavy cream, ya feel me?”
Mr. No Knife squeals.
“P-Please– I’m sorry, I’ll go! Promise! Just– fuck, l-lemme go!”
Hood’s head makes a minute motion, somehow conveying sheer exasperation despite the helmet (Though Tim can just feel the eye-roll going on). He drags the wannabe-robber up to his feet, though it’s pretty useless seeing as the guy’s knees give out they’re shaking so hard– and, oh dude, gross, that’s definitely a wet spot in the front of his jeans there. Tim’s nose wrinkles. He better not have to mop that up.
Hood pays the fact that he’s basically holding up all the man’s weight one-armed no mind, dragging him to the front of the shop. The bell chimes merrily as he gives the guy a literal kick in the ass out the door. The guy lands face-first in dirty, oily, Gothamy snow. An eight year old kicks him as she walks past, hand-in-hand with her father to the nearest bus stop. That Uptown Gotham charm, amiright?
“You’re just lucky I’m feeling the holiday fucking spirit right now– Plus, no offense,” a quick appraisal, “you’re kinda pathetic.”
And then Hood closes the door.
But he’s still here.
Tim looks around the shop. Apparently, at some point in the last 2 minutes, the rest of the customers have decided that they really don’t have time for the typical Bat-dramatics today and fucked off to another cafe. Tim should be more upset about the loss in business than he is, but that’s the furthest thing from his mind.
Because the Red Hood (It’s him, it’s really him) is still standing there. In the cafe.
 With Tim.
He glances down at his chest to make sure the knife isn’t actually buried there, because the possibility that he’s died makes more sense than the Red Hood standing in his cafe, surrounded by a horrific mash-up of dollar-store Hannukah and Christmas (because his family is technically Jewish even if they didn’t celebrate jack shit, and Steph took the shitty plastic menorah on top of the espresso machine as a challenge).
“Um,” Tim remarks, scrambling for the words he wants to say to one of his childhood heros, “So, can I get you something? I feel like I should get you something. Cause I mean. This is an establishment that supports vigilantism, okay? Robin’s Nest cafe, at your service. At least a 10% discount, just like military. Just putting it out there.”
Right. So where is that knife again? Can’t speak if he doesn’t have vocal chords.
The vigilante makes a sound through the synths in his helmet that must be a chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. He moves back up to the counter with movements far too fluid for someone of his size, and Tim swallows a bit as he’s forced to look up (and up) at close proximity. Wow, the helmet is something else– he’s itching to get his hands on it, take it apart and see all its functions and how it was made.
“Gotta first aid kit?” is almost lost to Tim, he’s so mesmerized – he thinks distantly that he’s probably looking a little manic, cause he’s running on caffeine and spite, and people have always told him that his tendency to hyperfocus is unnerving on a good day – but then the words click. He frowns.
“Yes, we do? He didn’t get you with the knife, did he?” he questions, eyes raking up and down Hood’s leather jacket for any telling rips or tears.
Hood tuts, reaching up to tap at his neck, “Nah, not me, but you’re ‘bout to need a new white shirt.”
Tim mimics the movement on autopilot, clapping his hand to the side of his neck and feeling the stickiness there. His heart jumps for a second as he pulls back his hand and sees enough blood there to wonder how he’d missed it.
“Oh. Damn.”
And that’s how, five minutes later, Tim’s got the doors to the cafe locked and finds himself sitting in the break room with the Red Hood dabbing at his neck with a cotton swab.
If he finally manages to overdose on caffeine tonight, he thinks he could go happily.
Hood’s so close that Tim’s 100% sure the vigilante can feel his heart trying to burst all his arteries by its sheer pumping force. He’s getting light-headed because he’s trying not to be creepy and do something like smell the the tall, buff guy with gentle hands (Cause, God, somehow the scent of cigarettes, leather, and gunmetal just work for him) and has thus forgone taking any deep breaths.
“Lucky you, s’not deep,” are the only words either of them has said since he plopped down on the table. Tim hesitates for a second, watching Hood close the first aid kit and step away, before he clears his throat.
Courage, Tim. Come on, you’re from Gotham.
“So. Thanks. For all that, I mean.”
Hood shrugs.
“Eh, there are worse ways to start the night. Plus, it’s way warmer in here than out there. Wasn’t kidding when I walked in– was gettin fucking blue balls out there, and not even from anything fun this time.”
Tim lets out a surprised laugh.
“Oh? Well, I think I have a way to warm you up.”
There’s amusement in every line of Hood’s shoulders as he tilts his head, becoming increasingly intrigued by this particularly bold civilian. When he speaks, there’s a definite purr there, mechanized though it is. Something prickly hot shoots down Tim’s spine, and he has to fight down a flush.
“Yeah? You got something in mind?”
Tim can’t help but grin. “Oh, I’ve got just the thing.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Let me guess. Hot chocolate with heavy cream?”
“Shut your shittin’ mouth, Dick.”
.
.
.
.
“…. It’s got candy cane flavor in it”
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stay--satan · 6 years
Text
Love, Danger and Death - JASON TODD X READER
so many good prompts it's hard to choose can you do 49 for Jason?
“Game’s over you son of a bitch! Tell me where she is!“
and a personal favorite from my prompt list #7
“I think we’re doomed”
I’ve been with this story in my head for so long, it took a while so I could put on words but here we go
Jason doesn’t believe in fortune tellers, but he hates how they were right the whole time. Burning through the ashes to this life to another
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Y/H/C - Your hair color
Y/SH/N - Your super hero name
The tiny storage was only lightned by a light from the table "I can't believe you brought me to this" the tall teenager boy complained for the fifth time "Oh c'mon, it will be fun" he is pushed by the arm by the Y/H/C girl "This is all a trick to get money from tourists" he says before sitting down on the table "Well you definitelyhave the money and I certainly have the time" "It's Bruce's money" "And I don't care" she smiles and look to the door waiting for someone to show. Right after that, the lights go out and a short black haired woman appears in front of him. Y/N is certainly mesmeraized, but Jason can't say the same. He met actually magicians who could do better than that. "What you kids seek?" the woman stares directly at Jason's direction "Well" he hears the voice of his girlfriend next to him "We-We would like uhm-” "To see your future?" she says like it was a routined thing. The girl nodds and the woman sits in front of them.
It's a little creepy the way she closes her eyes and the lights popped near them, he can assure that. But he still doesn't buy that crap "I see you two like danger" Oh my god could be more vague? His eyes wide in discredited but Y/N in other hand had hers as 'wow' face. He sighs a little more loud now. The woman across from them pulls a deck of cards placing one a one on the table "Love. Death. Regret." she says sharply "It'll follow you for a life and but not two if careful" Jason's eyebrows frown again, what the hell is that supposed to mean? And like the woman is reading his mind, she continues "The aura that surrounds the two of you it's doomed. It's a never ending circle until revenge consumes you. Burning through the ashes"
Later that night, laying on bed he knows his girl is tense around him. He could almost hear the phrase echoing on her head. She’s quiet and he hears her breathing full of concerns "I think I'm doomed" She says quietly, almost like a breath. Jason pull her face against his kissing her deeply in a tight embrace. He would curse himself out later for letting her being so stunned by that woman's words.
But he wouldn't have the time since 3 days later, he died. And that lead to an infinite mourning from Y/N proceeding a couple of years of misbehavior before she finds herself drown in her own troubles. She stands for herself for the first time in 3 years to fight for her city like he used to and maybe, just maybe, every single person that she saved almost every night would make up the fact that she didn't save him.
-
Being Y/SH/N for years now it taught you something, life isn't what you think it is. You saved so many people at night but during the day you were empty and numb. Thought you were offer, you never saw yourself working with a team, always alone, though people on the news always tell how brave you were or how amazing you must be, you hated your civilian version.
It was after your patrol when the Batman showed up at your house, that frown and angry expression were now mixed with something that you couldn't identify. Batman knew who you were and vice versa. You figured out as soon Jason died and there was even a letter of his telling that he was Robin and Bruce Batman. Bruce never knew about the letter but he knew about his identity discover, but it was something that you two never spoke about.
"We need to talk" he says sharply "Can we do this tomorrow? I literally just had to stop a major bank assault..." "Red Hood, have you heard of him?" He stops and you face him "Yeah..." you say carefully to see where this is going "He's the guy chasing Black Mask's ass isn't?" you say but there isn't a response yet "He didn't brought his work to my area yet, why should I bother?" "Does it matter? Have you watched the news?" "Yes, the whole circus with him capturing the Joker was lovely, you know my position about this" You were the first one to fight about why is the Joker still alive. Your vigilante type wasn't the type that fought super villains or stuff, you were just there for the people. It was danger messing with the gangues by yourself but in the way that could actually assist people 24/7 with no risk of them coming back, besides if a big boss surround your area, you would just beep Batman to the job.  There was at least 5 another vigilantes who could help him and you didn’t wanna be one of them. "I need you to come with me get them" "Excuse me?" Batman sigh like it was the first time he doesn't know what to do "This Red Hood... He's been following me for some time" "So now you got the harrasement thing?" He frowns again and you know you have to shut "He knows everything. About me, my life, the cave..." he breathes again getting his posture straight "It wasn't until we fight that I got my conclusion" And nothing, nothing that you had trained mentally and physically could prepare you to this. His name comes out Bruce's mouth like a sneeze. Like it was a simple explanation. You start to walk in circles with your hands in your head trying to find something that you missed, a detail maybe. Desperation start to fill your body, but Batman grabs you by the shoulder "No one except me and Alfred knows about this. I was on my way but... Do you understand, Y/N?" He couldn't do alone. But why was J...Jason doing this? You let yourself thinking about his full name for the first time in years not as a memory but as an actual thing "I ran all of his DNA and he... He blames me for it Y/N. I know he's already kill I mean..." he says remembering the Black Face massacre "But if he do that to Joker..." "It'll be a never ending circle" you finish now more firmly than you thought. "He hates me now but... "You think I can brought him back?" "Maybe" "He's being around for a couple of months now, why you think that he-he would come with me when he rather orchestrated all of this?" "You don't understand, he changed... For him it’s been a few days, not 5 years."
Still this doesn't make up for this. If he was after Bruce because he didn't save him could he be mad at you? You look ready to say goodbye to Bruce but right behind him, there's a small desk with a photograph of him... Your Jason. The face that you haven't seen in so long that you almost couldn't remember in your head anymore. But if you only could have one last look... One more time. You don't say anything before jumping on the window behind Batman and following him back to the batmobile. On your way to Jason Todd.
Batman parked in a abandoned building and told you to say in the rooftop until his signal while he's coming first. It wasn't until 10 minutes being alone you heard the first big noise, was this your signal? No wait he would make one in on the window yeah... Then it hit you. Jason Todd was down there. The man that in your dreamed you saved every night. The one who held you tight in your sleep was a few windows down from you again. You try to remember his face again, see if you could remember and when the time comes, you would see how different he looked. But you don't remember. It's like a daydream away from you now, you remember the moments but he's face is a blur. How you were going to recognize him if you don't remember him at all? There is another loud noice and you can't take it anymore.
The plan was capture Jason and lock him in Asylum until you figured out what happened to him and treat him safely until he wanted to talk. But that flew out of the window when you run till the door where the noises were coming from
A gun click could be heard "Game's over you son of a bitch" and a pitchy laugh could be heard too. That laugh that gave you nightmares, but the other raspy voice you couldn't identify but you just assumed. "Put this down. We can talk." Batman's sharpy tone followed "No, you still don't understand?" "I do understand, that's why we need to talk" "I'm done talking!" the raspy voice now was screaming to Bruce "Tell me where she is you piece of garbage" "JASON, STOP THIS" And a gunshot noice was enough for you to open the door and the scene in front of you got you in shock.
The Joker was the first to notice you, tie in a chair smiling widely at the situation. Batman standing at the window, probably just flew away from the bullet and there was a man in black turned against you, with a red helmet on the floor next to him and a gun pointed to Bruce.
You don't see to notice that his name comes out of your lips, it's barely a whisper, he doesn't turn but you know he heard. Pickering your lips you continued "Ple-please, don't do this" the whole water of your body comes straight to your body. Shakily you feel like you could fall at this moment with him so close "Jason, please just come with me..." "Yes bird boy, there's your pretty lady" If before this everything was in slow motion than Jason jumping on Joker and knocking him and back to hold Bruce at gun point out happened in matter of seconds. "Jason I am here" "No you're not!" he growls still with his face turned away from you "He has you" "Who has me?" He kicks Joker again in the face with his blood spilling on his boots "He doesn't" you say now more firmly and louder "The Joker told him you've been kidnapped 6 years ago. It's his last memory" "SHUT UP" Jason yells going in Batman's direction activating his gun again "SHUT UP SHUT UP" "JASON JUST TURN TO ME" "YOU DON'T GET TO DOOM ME ANYMORE BRUCE, NOT ANYMORE" Jason drops his gun and activate a button in his other hand. Hearing a click next to you, you see it's a bomb that it's about to blow in 15 seconds. You weren't fast enough to grab them all and run through the window. Even if you could do something, Batman is still on the window away from you. You just ran into Jason grabbing by his shoulders you turn him. Seeing his face. Everything is slow motion again, his mask is ripped and he has a black eye. There are scars all over his face, but it's still so familiar... Like he was some memory, but now all of your memories were no more blue. His watery eyes slowly move to meet yours and touch your hands against his face  "Y/N?" "Come home with m-" And that was the last memory before the loud explosion behind you.
-
Bruce wakes up with the Joker next to him. He menaged to grab someone before the building fell apart, he groans seeing that it's the scumbag. Like it hit him, he stands up quickly and go through the huge fire a few meters from him, he definetly broke a rib or four and his leg, but he tries to run anyway.
So he spot them in a tiny spot where the fire didn't caught. Together. Jason on his knees covered on dirt, holding her by his arms so tightly that it might broke her. He looks at the man standing in front of him with half of his mask ripped too with such despair. Something falls on Batman's black uniform, Jason sees like it was yelling at him. It's a light gray ash. And like a click, it's start to snow ashes around them both.
The younger one yells, loudly raspy that cut his throat out. A yell could it be heard in miles as he holds her bloody burned body more tightly. Bruce finally snaps from whatever got him standing and rushes to his son holding him by his shoulders while he drowns in loud sobs, he hugs him but he push him away saying between the sobs that if Bruce didn't know what it could be he wouldn't have understand "T-t-the pit.. ta-take her-r to the pit"
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birdsofchristmas · 4 years
Text
Chapter 6: The Swinging Christmas Tree
The oddest thing about most of the Christmas TV specials I watched growing up was that almost everything talked- animals talked, people talked, snowmen, ornaments, trees, toys, squirrels - everything seemed to have an opinion on Christmas and a desire to express it verbally.
It makes sense then that when my parents told me we were going to a singing Christmas tree I thought they were talking about an actual tree that danced and sang. For days I pictured an anthropomorphic green giant with sticks as arms, standing gleefully singing holiday tunes. My imagination even stretched into scenarios where the tree became disgruntled from years of imprisonment, breaking free of the 4-peg metal stand holding it in place then terrorizing the horrified audience of mostly attractive young parents.
I was in awe of the thing when I first beheld it at age 8, but even before the singers were ushered into its branches I was sitting in the padded seats of the church thinking “what’s it going to look like when it starts dancing?”
I learned that night that the term “singing Christmas tree” is a complete misnomer. For those who have never seen one the singing tree is a large choir performance of holiday tunes accompanied by some kind of live theatre performance. Actors, a running plotline, props and scenes, the whole lot.
The tree itself is a series of podiums stacked one by one, the widest at the base with gradually narrowing levels ascending to the ceiling of the church, decorated with all manner of lights and green fabric. The choir would be lined in rows with 20 on the first layer and less as the tree progressed higher, with a few lucky individuals perched on the very top level.
It became a family tradition to see the tree every year, and as the years progressed my interests shifted from cap guns and action figures to music and performing, and so my appreciation for the performances of the tree deepened with each attendance, extending even to my first Christmas returning home from college.
You might be balking at the idea that a giant plywood tree with choir singers would have any mass appeal, but these things are wildly popular. One church in Vancouver sees around 20,000 attendees over the course of six evenings every year, with reserved seats disappearing faster than Backstreet Boys tickets in the 90s!
It wasn’t like trying to see a Tyler Perry movie in theatres- if you didn’t show up on time seating would be highly scarce, and being that my family was never the type to be in a hurry finding a good spot was always a bit of a crap shoot.  Quite often we’d show up minutes before the curtain call and have to be seated in various single chairs throughout the church, only seeing each other again after the performance.
This year was different because I insisted on driving, and because I lied about what time the show actually started. “6:30,” I shouted throughout the house to my parents, “It starts at 6:30! We can’t be late!” We’d leave the house at 6:38 and arrive at the church by 7pm, well ahead of the the 7:30 start time.
When it came to picking seats my parents were the most indecisive people you could ever imagine, regularly shifting seats at Nanaimo Clippers hockey games and even during movies, sometimes after the movie started! Hockey games are fair enough, but playing musical chairs during a movie was just terrible. I was always more of a settler than a nomad, content to find a good seat and sit comfortably without the anxious thought there there was always a better seat out there somewhere.
My parents started their 2 Stooges routine as soon as we arrived at the church, with “Oh, we’re really on time” and “oh, where should we sit? The balcony? I don’t want to sit too close to the stage, no not here, over there”, but I wasn’t having any of it. I strode with bold confidence into the foyer, stopping only to receive a program being passed out by the ushers, right into the auditorium, down the aisle sitting down almost immediately into the first decent enough looking seat I could find.
Twenty minutes later the director of the play approached a microphone to give his opening welcome. It was at this point I started to casually flip through the program, stopping in my reading tracks when I saw a statement in bold lettering that said “please note, there will not be an intermission for this performance”. In my rush to get a good seat I’d forgotten the golden rule of seeing plays and movies- always go to the bathroom before you sit down.
Another twenty minutes later minutes nature started calling, and calling very loudly, and I started to regret the venti peppermint latte I’d picked up on the way. The choir was singing beautifully, the acting was engaging, but I was too distracted to fully enjoy the show. At one point I looked down at the empty coffee cup sitting on the ground in front of me, thought about it for a second, then said to myself, “no, that’s a really bad idea, I should just get up”.
I shuffled down the pew awkwardly and proceeded to the exit in search of a restroom. I couldn’t see it anywhere and walked almost the entire perimeter of the foyer until I spotted a small restroom sign. When I was leaving the restroom I noticed another sign in an adjacent hallway. It had an arrow pointing left and it said “choir members, this way”.
I have to admit most of my bucket list has something to do with Christmas- celebrating the holiday in Australia for instance, or driving a Shriner car through the Santa Claus parade, or building a life sized edible gingerbread house, or proposing to my future wife by wrapping myself in a giant box with a bow, then jumping out with a ring proclaiming “marrying you is the best gift I could ever ask for babe!”
As I stood in front of the arrowed sign I felt it was a golden opportunity to cross “singing in a giant Christmas tree” off my list, and I’d be a fool to pass it up.
I followed the sign to another sign at the end of the hall, then down another another hall like a mouse in a maze. I was surprised a security guard or a spinster hasn’t stopped me at this point. You know these people, there’s a few in every church- they’re the self appointed vigilantes and guardians who adhere strictly to the rules and expect others to do so as well. If you look slightly out of place they’ll stop you and ask “excuse me sir, can I help you?” I’m always tempted to reply with “why yes, you can! I need a ride to the airport next week, would you mind driving me??”
At last I scurried though a tall purple curtain with another sign that said “performers entrance” into a room strewn about with jackets and purses and a rolling clothes rack full of empty wire hangers. At the very end of the rack there was a long, green sparkled gown I recognized as one of the choir uniforms.  
It was an awkward fit at first, and it smelled like hadn’t been washed since Christmas 1998, but I managed to get the robe on. There was a tag on the neck that said XXXL and a zipper on the back with a long string attached to it, which I assumed was an emergency escape cord in case of a fire or an earthquake. I took 2 steps and immediately stumbled, tripping on the excess fabric. It felt like I was wearing an open parachute. As I fumbled about I sang a quick vocal warm up, “Maaaaaaaaaahh, maaaaaaaaaay, meeeeeeee, muuuuuuust be santaaaaa…”
The entrance to the tree was an obvious arched entryway, beside that a final and definitive sign- “the Lord bless and keep you” with a diagram of the tree. I searched the sign until I found “Baritones: third level” and made my way into the tree’s hallowed plywood branches.
The choir was mid-song as I shimmied onto the platform, bumping into a guy who was as tall as me but about 100 pounds bigger. He looked like he’d make a great Santa in about 20 years time if his career in the CFL didn’t pan out. I whispered to him “sorry I’m late, I forgot my sheet music.” He whispered back in the lowest bass tone I’ve ever heard “s'ok, borrow mine”.
The thing I wasn’t expecting was the lights- red lights, yellow lights, green lights, lights beaming in my eyes hiding the audience from view, lights beaming from the ceiling and from the stage floor.
There were even spotlights on all sections of the choir as individuals took turns preforming solos. I sang happily through three carols, partway through the 4th I heard the low voice next to me say “bub, your parts next”. I froze with fear and looked around nervously, then I noticed there was a tiny black bauble on a long black string a mere foot in front of where I was standing. With the realization this was a microphone came the realization that my voice was going to heard well and clearly by every member in the audience!
When I thought about sneaking into a singing Christmas tree I was expecting to be just a single needle in the tree, unnoticed as an individual. I thought maybe I’d blend in, and if I was off key no-one would really notice. But now I was about to become an entire branch, to be tested by the mighty winds of high expectation to see if I could stand up to the pressure.
The spotlight hit me and I belted out the solo, giving it my best with gusto, summoning courage usually only possible after a double gin & tonic. Then I heard a giant applause with hooting and whistling from one corner of the church. The Pentecostal youth group I’d volunteered with for 5 years before leaving for college was attending in almost full force, taking up an entire section! They recognized me and cheered me on in full Pentecostal fashion, laughing and buzzing long after my solo. I imagine part of their excitement may have been them thinking I was speaking in tongues, because I only knew half the words to the solo.
I stayed on for the rest of the performance, by the end sweating profusely but filled with unimaginable joy. I didn’t stay in the tree for the standing ovation, instead sneaking back through the mouse maze hearing the cheering reverberate throughout the church before returning to my seat. I sat down as the ovation continued and breathed a sigh of relief. I’d gotten away with sneaking into the tree and besides my former youth group the crowd was none the wiser.
It was then I felt a hand on my shoulder, a grip so firm I knew it could only have belonged to a police officer. I felt the same grip one year at my old high school when I was setting off fireworks in the back field. The same grip I felt on my arm after jumping into the outdoor pool in Bowen Park late at night. The same grip I felt on my shoulder when I was caught sneaking into the walk in freezer at summer camp trying to steal ice cream. The jig was up, there was a security guard after all, and I’d been caught!
I turned around and to my surprise the grip belonged to a sweet elderly woman, with glittering eyes and a cheerful smile. I leaned down towards her and she said in a kind sounding voice “my that was very well done, thank you very much”. She had recognized me from the choir because I was still wearing the giant parachute choir robe, and I responded with a very embarrassed “thank you so much”, turning as red as a Christmas poinsettia. Her grandson, and more importantly her granddaughter, were smiling at me as well saying “yeah that was great, thanks”. This was followed by more undeserved thanks from several other grandmothers and their granddaughters while I inched towards the foyer doors.
I thought I was finally in the clear when I heard a shout from the stage, as one of the members of the choir said “Hey, aren’t you coming to the afterparty?” My parents were standing at the front door holding their coats. I put my hands up in an “I dunno” position. My dad nodded at me with a smile, winked at me, and off my parents left for home while I walked down to aisle, back to the stage, through the mouse maze, to the after party happening in the church’s library with a stack of pizza boxes in the shape of a Christmas tree.
One of the choir members approached me saying, “I don’t recognize you from practice, were you part of the tree?” And the guy with the bass voice came over and said “hey of course he was, this is Daniel, he was filling in for Mike!”
And so for the remainder of the night I was Daniel, and I was Daniel again for the following three years of returning to sing in the Christmas tree. The third year I sang on the very top level, which only lasted a few songs because I’m afraid of heights. I’ve been singing on the 2nd level ever since.
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talatomaz · 5 years
Text
hate burns | dinah drake x fem!reader
a/n: i saw this prompt and this idea popped into my head and I thought who better to write about than the loml aka dinah drake. (set sometime during season 5 but thea’s still a part of team arrow)
X = your vigilante name
prompts: “after you lose everything good in your life, all you can do is laugh. laugh because you somehow managed to die along the way, but can’t remember where”
warnings: mentions of death/loss, blood - inadvertently. angst
word count: 1.8k
masterlist | request list | request rules
reader has psychokinesis and got her powers from the particle accelerator explosion and works as a vigilante on team arrow
i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated
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You and the rest of Team Arrow stepped out of the lift and walked into the Arrow cave where you were all greeted by Felicity and Curtis.
“Great work tonight, guys.” Curtis said as you walked up to the computer centre.
Curtis used to be out in the field with you guys as Mr Terrific but recently decided that his skills were better spent at the Arrow cave, alongside Felicity, also known as Overwatch, who was basically your eyes, ears, and brains, when you were out catching criminals.
“Wasn’t many criminals out tonight. They must all be scared of Green Arrow.” You joked, making Dinah and Rene smirk as Oliver rolled his eyes at you.
“Nice one, hoss.”
“Any more activity, Felicity?” Oliver asked, looking at the former who shook her head.
“No, y/n’s right. Streets have been quiet tonight. Probably because of Prometheus.” She paused, looking at Oliver.
“Uh, or because they’re scared of you, Oliver. They’re like ‘Ahh, Green Arrow.’”
She rambled, trying to explain herself in her usual ‘Felicity Smoak’ way.
“Great. You guys can go home and have an early night th-”
Oliver began before being interrupted by a loud beeping coming from one of Felicity’s police scanners.
“Hold that thought.” Felicity said.
The latter ran back to her station and began typing,
“There’s been a break-in at Kord Industries and when the guy tried to escape, he shot and injured a couple of SCPD officers.”
“Where’s the guy heading?” Dinah asked from beside you.
“Uh, traffic cameras have him heading down Ford and 7th.”
Oliver grabbed his quiver as the rest of you geared up again, “Diggle’s with Lyla so I’ll have Speedy meet us instead, let’s go.”
You all donned your masks and followed Oliver into the lift and out into the streets of Star City.
***
“Hard right, now.”
You and Black Canary were following the masked man on Dinah’s motorbike with you straddling her back.
“I think I know where he’s going.” You shouted to Dinah, and to the others who were on comms.
“Felicity, check if there’s an abandoned building around here. I think it’s called-”
“Bullerfield Track Industries.” Felicity finished, over the comms. “I’ve analysed this guy’s route and all directions indicate he’s going there. You’re right, X.”
When you first joined the team, a year ago, it was comprised of completely different members.
The OGs, as Felicity used to call them, consisted of Oliver, Felicity, Diggle, Thea, Ray Palmer, Curtis and the late Laurel Lance.
And each of these members had their own individual codenames so, after learning about your psychokinesis, Curtis aptly nicknamed you ‘X’ after Charles Xavier from X-Men.
When Dinah stopped the motorbike, the rest of the team, including Wild Dog, Speedy and Green Arrow, arrived and Oliver gave you all a quick rundown of the plan.
You and Dinah were to cover the front entrances, Rene and Thea, the back, and Oliver, in true Green Arrow fashion, would enter the abandoned industrial factory from above.
“I want to know what he stole and why.”
Dinah whispered to you as you both walked into the factory, cautiously keeping an eye out for the criminal.
“It’s a neuromorphic chip. He can basically use it to steal sensory data even if it hasn’t been processed. If manipulated in the right way, he might be able to use it to control people.”
You looked at Dinah when she didn’t respond and saw her smiling.
“What?”
“You spend way too much time with Felicity and Curtis.”
“You jealous, Dee?” You countered making Dinah smirk a devilish grin.
Though you and Dinah were never officially together, you had had a few flings after rough nights, and Curtis and Felicity said that you had a ‘Will they, won’t they?’ thing going on.
Instead of responding, she nudged you to look ahead and you saw a man who was stood at a small metal table that held only a computer.
‘Hands up.” Dinah ordered and the man stilled.
“Well, if it isn’t the cavalry.” He said, his back still towards you both.
You stilled at his voice and narrowed your eyes.
It was eerily familiar.
It couldn’t be.
Your suspicions were confirmed when the man turned around and it took almost everything in you not to throw him against the wall and kill him.
“And here I thought Halloween was a few months aw-Wait, could it be? Is that you, y/n?” He said with a slimy grin that you wanted to slap off his face.
Dinah turned to face you with a confused look as Rene and Thea approached up behind the man you hated with every fibre in your body.
Then Oliver jumped through a glass window, onto the ground, standing next to you and Dinah.
Your mind flashed back to a few years ago…
“If you hurt her, I’ll blow you into tiny, unrecognisable pieces.”
You snarled at the man who was holding a crying Luna in a chokehold.
“Threatening someone without changing expressions. You two really are sisters.”
He spat out as Luna continued to cry and you cocked your gun.
“Unlike you, I actually follow up on my threats.”
In a matter of seconds, he pulled a knife from behind him and plunged it into your sister’s stomach.
“Why, I haven’t seen you since poor Luna-”
“Keep her name out of your filthy mouth, you bastard.” You warned, taking a step forward so you were closer to him.
“Since she died.” He finished, still smiling.
“Since you killed her.” You corrected.
He laughed amusingly and any hold you had managed to regain on your temper broke.
With a simple thought, you levitated him in the air with your mind.
“I dare you to fuck with me right now. I’ve killed a lot of people when I was calm. Imagine what I’ll do when I’m angry.”
“I’ll tell you what you can’t do. Save your pathetic excuse of a sis-”
Before he could finish his sentence, you used your powers to slam him into one of the containers and you repeated this motion a few times before being stopped by Dinah.
Truth be told, you had forgotten that the whole team was there.
In that moment, it just seemed like it was you and him.
He fell to the floor with a loud smack and Thea ran up to his unconscious body and checked his pulse, “He’s alive, just knocked out.”
Then all of them looked at you and Oliver moved to stand in front of you.
“What just happened?”
“None of your business.”
You were about to walk past him before he stopped you.
“Do not make me move you.”
Oliver must have realised you were serious because he stepped to the side and allowed you to pass.
***
As soon as you stepped into your apartment, you exhaled a deep breath of air, trying to steady your breathing to calm yourself down.
But it had the opposite effect because the moment that you sank down the wall, you began crying as your memories came flooding back.
“Listen. I can’t do this without you,”
You said angrily, pressing your hands more firmly against Luna’s wound.
“So you can’t die, do you understand? It’s you and me against the world so you cannot die.”
“I, uh-y/n, I don’t-It hurts, oh god-”
“Hey. It’s going to be okay. We just need to wait for the ambulance, they’re almost here. Eyes on me, Lu, keep them open.”
You jumped when there was rapid knocking at your door and you reached up and opened the door, still slumped against the wall.
Even through your tears, you recognised the figure who closed the door behind them and crouched down to face you.
“What happened?”
You shook your head and instead of questioning further, Dinah lifted you from the floor and helped you to your bedroom where you sat on the edge of your bed, tears shamelessly spilling from your eyes.
After handing you some tissues, Dinah pulled up a chair and sat opposite you, waiting until you were ready to speak.
“Is he dead?”
She shook her head, “He might have some brain damage though.”
“Good.”
“Who is he?”
“Julian Caldwell. He used to be a drug dealer. Looks like he moved up in the world.”
“And Luna?” She asked cautiously, not wanting you to shout at her or start crying again.
A betraying tear spilled from your eyes, “She was my sister” You took a deep breath.
“Caldwell murdered her.”
“I’m so sorry.”
You shrugged, “She got addicted just after Dad passed and she missed one payment and he slaughtered her like a pig.” You recounted, as the memories came to the forefront of your mind.
“So that’s why you wanted to kill him.”
“If you hadn’t have stopped me, I would have. I should have.”
You said and then you started laughing dryly at the tragic events of your life which made Dinah look at you with her brows furrowed.
“After you lose everything good in your life, all you can do is laugh. Laugh because you somehow managed to die along the way, but can’t remember where.”
“Hey,” Dinah moved from the chair to sit beside you on the bed, “You’re not going to lose me. Never. I won’t leave you.”
“Everyone leaves.”
You whispered, weary of speaking any louder as you were on the verge of breaking back down into tears.
“No. Not everyone.” You remained silent.
“Look at me. Look at me.”
She persisted and lifted your chin so you met her eyes. 
“I’m here. A thousand lifetimes in a hundred worlds, it’s always you.”
You both stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments of silence before you leaned in and kissed her.
This kiss was, in many ways, your first proper kiss.
Though you had kissed before, it was just something you did when you guys slept together.
This kiss, however, though laced with desire and fire, was deep and conveyed your true feelings to one another.
You pulled away and a soft smile formed on your lips as you closed your eyes and laid your head against her chest. Dinah’s arms enclosed around you, pulling you close to her.
“Will you stay with me, Dee?”
“Always and Forever, baby.”
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