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rachelkruglyak · 1 year ago

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WandaVision (We Don't Need Another Superhero Roundtable)

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How do structural mythology, cultural studies, and cultural history reflect the series’ world and world-building around superheroes?

In Avengers: Infinity War, Vision dies twice. In WandaVision it is revealed that in her grief, Wanda created a town and created a new version of Vision that can only exist within the town, even though he had died. The theme of resurrection from the dead is a popular theme in mythology. As one example, the phoenix, according to legend, is a bird with the ability to die and come back to life. It is said that when an old phoenix dies, it bursts into flames and a new phoenix is born from the ashes of the old. There are many different versions of this resurrection myth in Egypt, Europe and Asia.

WandaVision is steeped in cultural studies and cultural history. The world of WandaVision is set as a television show, so it is a television show within a show. Kevin Williams writes, “A cultural history adds the element of time to the study of the narrative’s values, namely how is the change in values over time reflected in the narrative?” WandaVision tackles cultural history by setting each of the episodes in a different time period. The first episode takes place in the 50s. Wanda and Vision are dressed and styled in 50s clothing and their home has the technology associated with the 50s and 50s-style furniture. The episode is shot in black and white like a 50s TV show. Wanda is portrayed as a typical 50s housewife and Vision is a 50s house husband with a job. The first episode they try to blend in with the 50s-style town, including at a dinner with Vision’s boss, even though they don’t have key knowledge. After interrogating Wanda and Vision, Mr. Hart chokes on his food and Vision uses his powers to save him.

In the second episode, WandaVision is transformed to a 60s setting. The show is still in black and white, but some strange items occur in color. At the end, Wanda learns she’s pregnant, she resets their reality and the show turns to color.

The third episode takes place in a 1970s setting and is in color as they prepare for the baby. The show keeps advancing through decades the 80s, 90s, 2000s until the last two episodes of the season when it breaks out of the television show model and focuses on Wanda’s real powers. The entire series is very much steeped in cultural aesthetics of the different decades as their clothing and styling change with each decade. The furniture in their home also changes with each style. Wanda and Vision attempt to blend in to each of the decades since the 50s without attracting attention even though they obviously have great powers that they can’t completely control.

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In what ways are the superheroes and their abilities informed by their racial, gender, sexual, and cultural identities?

Wanda’s gender identity as a woman plays an important role in her story. Ethnically, Wanda comes from Sokovia, a war-torn area that is likely modeled after Eastern Europe, possibly Yugoslavia. Her parents were killed when she was 10 and she was found by the SWORD people.

In episode 1, Wanda and her neighbor Agnes discuss techniques for seducing a man. When Vision’s boss arrives, Wanda makes a very romantic atmosphere and dresses in a fluffy white dress that is meant to seduce Vision. At the end of the episode, Wanda makes wedding rings for her and Vision. In this episode, Wanda’s role as a woman and romantic partner take center stage.

At the beginning of episode 2, after hearing thudding coming from outside, Wanda brings her and Vision’s beds closer together and then turns them into one bed. Vision tells Wanda to turn off the light, again focusing on Wanda as a romantic partner to Vision.

In episode 3, Wanda is pregnant. There seems to be a connection between the baby and her super powers. When Wanda is making the nursery, she feels the baby kicking and then loses control of her powers. Her progress moves up to six months. Vision says at the rate she’s going, they can expect the baby by Friday afternoon. When Wanda feels a tightening sensation, Vision says she’s experiencing Braxton-Hicks contractions. Her powers go haywire and there’s a town-wide blackout. Wanda wonders what will happen when the real contractions start. She wonders if the neighbors know that what’s going on is her fault. She says that people are always on the verge of discovering her secret. When Wanda has a real contraction, it begins to rain in the town. When Geraldine helps Wanda with her birth, electrical appliances turn themselves on, a chandelier crashes, pictures start spinning on the wall, and the fireplace ignites. After she gives birth, everything calms down.The show sets up a possible tension between her motherhood and her super powers, but after giving birth, she retains her powers and ultimately her children have super powers too.

More broadly, Wanda’s desire to live an idyllic life with Vision is the basis for the show. But in her determination to create this life, she is giving new identities to the people of Westview. They become characters on Wanda’s TV show and know no other lives. She in essence keeps the people of the town hostage. This relates to her identity as a woman because she is portrayed as a woman so intent on having a perfect family life with her husband and children that she will destroy the lives of others to achieve it. Wanda’s pursuit of her agenda at the expense of others is consistent with the observation by Kevin D. Williams that “As the questioning of American values and dissension within America concerning the War grew, so did the questioning of the superhero character. No longer was the superhero guaranteed to be an authoritarian do-gooder questioning nothing and blindly carrying out the crusade for American justice” (1336). Indeed, Wanda is a complex character who uses her powers for her own benefit not only to benefit others and even at the expense of others.

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In what ways do costumes and concealing identities further separate the superheroes from normal society? How necessary is it for the superheroes to hide their true identities to successfully achieve their goals?

Wanda and Vision concealing their identities separates them from normal society because they have to go out of their way to make sure their neighbors don’t know what powers they have. WandaVision is consistent with Kevin D. Williams’ article “(R)Evolution of the Television Superhero: Comparing Superfriends and Justice League in Terms of Foreign Relations” when he writes, “Yet, in both series, heroes consciously struggle to maintain these secret identities, and they engage in deceit in order to keep the general public from learning their superhero status.” Wand and Vision don’t have to hide their powers when they’re alone, but in order to conceal the fact that she is a superhero who has taken over the town, without arousing suspicion from the townspeople, it is important for Wanda to conceal her and Visions’ identities.

In episode 1, when he’s at work, Vision’s boss says he’s like a computer and Vision says he’s made of organic matter. His boss then asks if there’s a skeleton in Vision’s closet. Later in the episode, Mrs. Hart almost discovers Wanda’s powers so Vision sings to distract her.

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At a neighborhood watch meeting in episode 2, after being offered a danish, Vision says that he doesn’t eat food, receiving strange looks from the other characters present. To cover up his gaffe, Vision says he doesn’t eat food in between meals but at mealtimes.

In episode 3, Wanda tries to hide her pregnancy from Geraldine who arrives spontaneously. Wanda says it’s not a good time. Geraldine says she needs a bucket because her pipes burst. Wanda says she has a bucket in her kitchen. When Wanda wants to know more about Geraldine’s temp job, Geraldine goes on and on. A stork appears in the background. Wanda tries to make it disappear but her powers aren’t working. When Geraldine comments on the noise that the stork is making, Wanda says it’s her new icemaker.

In episode 5, Agnes shows up at Wanda’s door spontaneously. Vision has to quickly make himself look human because he wasn’t expecting her. Later in the episode, after Wanda tells the twins that taking care of a dog is a huge responsibility, Vision shows up. He looks human. He says he had a hunch someone would pop over. This is when Agnes shows up with a wooden house for the dog, and Vision continues his speech with “with exactly the item we require.” Wanda uses her magic to create a dog collar in front of Agnes. Vision doesn’t understand why. Wanda says that Agnes didn’t notice when the twins aged up from babies to five-year-olds. Vision says it’s not what they agreed upon. He says that Wanda made no effort to conceal her abilities. Wanda says she’s tired of hiding and that Vision doesn’t have to either.

Kevin Williams also writes that Justice League gives an opposing interpretation: the costume is the real character and a secret identity is the false secondary identity. This is true in the case of Wanda, who invented fake personas for her, Vision, and everyone in Westview. She pretends she doesn’t know her true powers, but she actually does, which is seen in episode 3, when she ejects Monica Rambeau out of the town and back into the real world using her powers and then fixes up the damage.

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This quote can also be applied to the character of Agnes, who seems to just be Wanda’s neighbor and oblivious to Wanda’s power, but who later reveals herself to be a witch named Agatha Harkness at the end of episode 7. She was concealing her true identity and was just biding time before she revealed herself.

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How do the economic, political, and social events that occurred during the series’ creation and broadcast cultivate and inform the superheroes’ decisions and actions?

Production of WandaVision began in 2019. During this year, Brexit occurred, President Trump was impeached, evidence for global warming became more clear as the Amazon rainforest burned an area the size of New Jersey, and protestors were in the streets in Hong Kong. Against this backdrop of national and global turmoil, the focus of WandaVision on a seemingly simpler, nostalgic past of sitcoms can be understood as an approach to escape from the threats of reality. During production, a new threat to civilization, the pandemic occurred. Production had to be halted in 2020 for the pandemic. It was completed later that year and WandaVision became one of the few shows that aired in 2021, the height of the pandemic. The longing for escapism through sitcoms and television during the pandemic may well have contributed to the success of the television show. Wanda keeping everyone in a contained bubble could have been an allusion to people having to isolate themselves during the pandemic. Further, the attention paid to TV sitcoms is on the one hand comforting and nostalgic. But the show captures the emotions of the pandemic-stricken world because it upended the calming notion of an unthreatening sitcom and instead turned it slowly but steadily into a scarier and creepier show with each episode nudging in the direction of sitcom turning to horror, similar to life in a pandemic.

How do the superheroes question themselves, each other, and their obligations and duties to the people around them?

In episode 8, Wanda and Agatha question each other. Agatha begs Wanda to reveal how she created the Hex and has Wanda revisit traumatic times from her life. When Wanda reveals how she created the town, Agatha says she knows what Wanda is. Agatha says that Wanda used chaos magic to create the town and that makes her the Scarlet Witch.

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In episode 9, Agatha wants Wanda to surrender her power to her. Agatha says she’ll let Wanda “keep this pathetic little corner of the world all to herself.” Wanda throws her car into Agatha’s house. This is when the new Vision shows up. He lifts Wanda into the air and squeezes her head and says he was told that she was powerful, indicating that he believes that to be false. This is when the real Vision appears and throws the new Vision, which causes an explosion. Wanda says she should’ve told Vision everything the moment she realized what she had done. Vision says he understands why she made the world, but shows concern about it. Wanda says she can fix it. Vision seems doubtful. The new Vision emerges from the flames. Wanda tells Vision that Westview is their home and he says they will fight for it. When Vision and the new Vision fight again, Vision asks why Vision 2 is bent on destroying him. Vision 2 says that Wanda must be neutralized and Vision must be destroyed, and punches Vision in the head. Later, when Wanda is in the street, Agatha sends out a purple blast. She says that Wanda has never been up against another witch before. She says there’s an entire chapter devoted to Wanda in the Darkhold, which is the Book of the Damned. She says that the Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no coven and no need for incantation. Wanda says that she’s not a witch, that she doesn’t cast spells, and that no one taught her magic. Agatha says that Wanda’s power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme. She says it’s Wanda’s destiny to destroy the world. Wanda says she’s not what Agatha says she is.

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Soon after this, Agatha cuts off Wanda’s control of the townsfolk. Wanda tells the townsfolk that they’re going to be fine, that she’s kept them safe. The townsfolk say that they feel her pain. Wanda lets out a scream, and accidentally starts choking the townsfolk. After stopping it, Wanda says she’ll let the people go. Agatha asks what’s stopping her. She tells Wanda to let the people go now and that heroes don’t torture people. Wanda sends up a beacon that is changing the town back to the way it was before she changed things. She tells everyone to leave. Vision then falls to the ground and begins to fall apart, as do the twins. Agatha informs Wanda that she tied her family to the twisted world and now one can’t exist without the other. Wanda puts the shield back up and Agatha blasts Wanda and her family. Wanda puts up a protective shield around them.

In the library, Vision says that he does not have one single ounce of original material. He says that Vision 2 has the data but his memories are being kept from him, and he no longer feels like the real Vision after meeting Vision 2. He says that Vision 2’s memory storage is not so easily wiped and unlocks it, causing Vision 2 to say that he is Vision, at which point he blasts through the roof.

Wanda brings Agatha to the past and shows Agatha the destruction she caused. Wanda says the difference between the two of them is that Agatha did it on purpose. Agatha reanimates the dead witches, who chant Wanda’s name. They say that she’s the Scarlet Witch, the Harbinger of Chaos. Agatha says Wanda can’t win, and says that power isn’t the problem. It’s knowledge. Agatha tells Wanda to give her her power and she will correct the flaws in Wanda’s original spell. She says that Wanda and her family and the people of Westview can all live together in peace. No one will have to feel Wanda’s pain again, not even Wanda herself. Wanda tells Agatha to take the power, that she doesn’t want it. Agatha says she wants all the power and Wanda tries to give it to her. Agatha then says that once a spell is cast, it can never be changed. The world Wanda made will always be broken, just like her. Agatha tries to blast Wanda but fails. Wanda reveals the runes she made, which means she’s the only one who can use her powers. She thanks Agatha for the lesson. She says she doesn’t need Agatha to tell her who she is and then transforms into the Scarlet Witch.

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Wanda tells Agatha that she’s going to lock Agatha in Westview in the role she chose; the nosy neighbor. Agatha says Wanda has no idea what she unlocked and that she’s going to need her. Wanda says she knows where to find Agatha and turns Agatha into the nosy neighbor.

#oxyspeculativetv #@theuncannyprofessoro #Youtube

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fridayfirefly · 4 years ago

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All For The Investigation

Read All For The Investigation on AO3

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By Tim’s calculations, there was an 87% certain that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the Parisian former hero Ladybug. However, 87% was not 100%, so Bruce required further investigation. Damian was stuck with the job.

Except, Damian knew that stuck wasn't exactly the right word. Stuck implied that he was displeased with the situation. Damian wasn't displeased. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the most pleasant person in all of Gotham Academy. If Damian had to choose anyone to be forced to spend time with, he would choose Marinette. Though he grumbled about being forced to spend time with plebeians (for the benefit of his brothers, who would mercilessly tease Damian if they even suspected that he had a crush), Damian was quite pleased by the assignment.

Given that Marinette was in his history class, it was quite easy to arrange a situation in which they were forced to be in each others' proximities. When their teacher announced that there would be an upcoming group project with randomly assigned partnerships, it was simple for Damian to break into her office and switch around some of the names. When the partnerships were announced and Marinette and Damian were paired together, Damian made his move.

"Dupain-Cheng, if you would like to work on the project over the weekend, we can do so at my house."

"Sounds good, Wayne, but you know, you can just call me Marinette," said Marinette with a smile.

Damian felt flustered, which was a very bad sign. He never felt anything less than perfectly composed. "Then you may call me Damian."

Marinette's smile got even bigger. There was a feeling in his chest that, had it been caused by anyone else, Damian would have suspected it to be a complication of the broken ribs from Joker's last attack. "Let me give you my number, and we can plan a meeting this weekend. Would Saturday work for you?"

Damian nodded as he handed Marinette his phone. "My schedule is free on Saturday."

"Great!" chirped Marinette. She plugged in her number, then posed for a picture, explaining that it was, "For the contact photo."

And if in the privacy of his bedroom, Damian stared at that contact photo for twenty-minutes straight, it was just for research purposes. Just to compare Marinette's facial structure to that of Ladybug. Completely normal investigative business.

The next morning, Damian found his way to the bedroom of his most tolerable brother. "Grayson. Can I confide in you without any of the information getting to anyone else?"

Richard glanced up from his laptop. "Sure thing, Baby Bird." He patted a spot on the bed next to him,

"Don't call me that. I despise nicknames," grumbled Damian. He took a seat, staring at the wall in front of him, still weighing the risk versus reward of talking to Richard. If his brother had some technique for extinguishing romantic interest it would solve Damian's problem. However, if either Drake or Todd got word of Damian's crush there was no doubt in Damian's mind that they would never let him hear the end of it.

"So what's on your mind?"

"It pertains to the girl in my who Drake suspects to be Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She has become difficult to investigate. I have found myself unable to observe her objectively."

Richard frowned. "I'm not sure I know what you mean. Is it something that she did that's bothering you?"

Damian searched for the right words to explain the situation. He was not usually so tongue-tied, but the proper words seemed to escape him at every turn. "Dupain-Cheng is not what I expected. I assumed that it would be a simple task, to observe her and determine whether she has any connection to the Parisian superhero. However, I have found it difficult to concentrate on my mission when I am around her."

"You find it difficult to concentrate when you're around her. How so?"

Damian gritted his teeth. He didn't want to spell out his crush so obviously, but Richard seemed incapable of looking between the lines. "I have found myself preoccupied with trivial things like getting to know her personality, rather than investigating her background. She makes me feel... flustered."

Damian could see the moment that Richard made the connection. His brother's face lit up as he exclaimed, "You have a crush on her?!"

"Quiet!" snapped Damian. "This does not leave this room. I need to learn how to get rid of it, so I can get back to completing the mission."

Richard was grinning ear to ear. "That's not how crushes work. You can't just snap your fingers and have them disappear. The only thing that can get rid of a crush is time. Or sometimes if they get a haircut that kills the feeling. But mostly it just takes time."

"I cannot afford to wait for these feelings to fade. I'll look into scheduling her a haircut." Damian stood up, resolved to get rid of his crush before Marinette came over later that day to work on their project.

"No wait," Richard grabbed Damian's arm. "I doubt that your attraction to her is so shallow that a haircut would destroy the feelings you have for her. This is something that you'll have to talk to her about."

Damian frowned. "Perhaps I should give the mission to someone else. Jon could transfer to Gotham Academy for the semester. His detective skills are lacking but his judgment would be less clouded than mine. If I ignore her for long enough I'm sure that I can evade talking about my feelings."

"Why don't you just ignore the mission for a few weeks while you get to know her."

Damian fixed Richard with a death glare. "I cannot ignore this mission. Father gave it to me personally."

"How about twenty-four hours? You spend the next twenty-four hours in getting-to-know-her mode rather than background-check mode and at the end of it, we can regroup and decide what to do next. If you actually get to know her, you'll better understand the depths of your feelings. Once you have that understanding, you'll be able to see if waiting out your crush is a viable option or if you need to pass on the responsibilities to someone else."

It wasn't the perfect solution, but it was better than anything Damian had come up with. Anything that could potentially alleviate Damian's inability to focus on the investigation was worth trying. "Fine," Damian replied curtly. "Thank you for your assistance."

"No problem," said Richard. "You know, I would love to get to meet Marinette sometime."

"Don't push your luck," grumbled Damian, ignoring Richard's laughter as he stood up and left the room. There would be no way to hide the fact that Marinette was coming over to the Manor from his family. There was also no way that his family wouldn't intrude upon Damian and Marinette as they worked. However, if he explained everything beforehand and phrased everything in precisely the right way, he might be able to pass off his odd behavior towards Marinette as a part of his investigation. Damian pulled out his phone and composed a text to send to the family groupchat.

Damian: Dupain-Cheng is coming to the Manor at approximately 22:00 to work on a history project. I will be covertly conducting my investigation. From what I have gathered, she would respond better to subtle questioning, rather than a straightforward interrogation.

Tim: wait does subtle interrogation mean that you'll be flirting with her???

Jason: I need to see this

Steph: I'm willing to bet money that his flirting offends Marinette so much she storms out of the Manor before Damian can finish the mission

Dick: No way. I'll bet 20 dollars that his flirting works too well

Steph: done

Damian huffed, half tempted to call off his meeting with Marinette. His siblings were insufferable.

Damian: Please refrain from intervening. Confirming that Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug is a vital first step in determining whether the Justice League needs to interfere in the affairs of the Order of the Miraculous.

Bruce: Damian is correct. No one will bother him while he is working with Marinette.

Damian smirked as he turned his phone off. His plan wasn't foolproof, of course, but a direct order from Bruce to not interfere would force his siblings to be more subtle about spying on him and Marinette. The chance of him being interrupted was significantly decreased.

Damian got everything set up in the den, which was only ever used on family movie night. It was perfectly situated for the task at hand - a room small enough to be classed as cozy but big enough to not feel cramped. It was out of the way, surrounded by other equally unused rooms, so his siblings would have no excuse for lurking in the hallway outside. Damian brought in snacks, chargers, and a few books from the Wayne Manor library on Renaissance Art, the topic of their project.

Marinette arrived promptly at 2 in the afternoon, holding a Tupperware container full of gingerbread cookies, with a smile on her face. "Hi, Damian. I brought cookies."

None of his planning accounted for this moment, for first laying eyes on Marinette. Damian froze up, desperate to put the right words in the right order. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Marinette. I have everything set up in the den if you'll just follow me."

"Sure." Marinette toed off her black boots and arranged them on the shoe tray next to the door. She was left in sage green cat-print socks that matched the rest of her outfit, a pine green sweater and black jeans. Damian couldn't help but wonder if she knit the sweater herself - Marinette's talent for designing was well-known throughout Gotham Academy, as it was what got her accepted into the prestigious high school in the first place.

Marinette followed Damian through the Manor, complimenting little details that Damian had never noticed before - the pattern of the curtains, the bay window in a sitting room that Damian had never bothered to enter, the family pictures that lined the wall in the hallway. Marinette made it seem so obvious to pay attention to those little details. Damian wished that he could see the Manor for the first time through her eyes and feel the same amazement that she felt as she oohed and awed over the decadence that Damian had considered banal.

Damian was so captivated by Marinette that he almost missed the fact that Drake and Brown were lurking in the study across the hall from the den. A text to his father about the gravity of his mission would be enough to get them sent away on some inconsequential but time-consuming task. Damian would have to find an inconspicuous time to pull out his phone during their work on the project to let his father know about their intrusion.

"Now I know why you call it Wayne Manor. This place is huge." Marinette shrugged off her backpack and set it down on the coffee table next to her container of cookies.

"Its size is entirely unnecessary for ordinary life," agreed Damian. "However, it makes for very challenging games of hide-and-seek."

Marinette giggled. "That sounds like fun. You'll have to invite me next time you play."

"I'll make sure of it." Damian smiled, surprised to find that his happiness wasn't forced. He rarely engaged in childish behavior, and even more rarely did he find any enjoyment in it. Yet the mental image of playing a child's game with Marinette was pleasant to him. The feelings he had for her were deeper than Damian anticipated.

The pair got to work on their project. Damian sent out the text to his father as soon as he opened his laptop, leaving Marinette under the impression that he was researching sources. A series of irritable texts in the family groupchat confirmed the fact that Drake and Brown had been removed from their hiding spot.

"Do you want to try a cookie?" asked Marinette, pushing the Tupperware towards Damian.

"Thank you." Damian took one, just to be polite. Growing up in the League of Assassins, he never really had a taste for sweets. Alfred's baking was the extent of what he would tolerate. He took a bite - small, to back up his claim that he already ate if it turned out to be inedible. Surprisingly, it was nearly as good as Alfred's gingerbread cookies, and those were tailer made to Damian's taste. The cookies were heavy on the ginger and cloves, just as Damian liked. "These are delicious," Damian professed.

Marinette blushed. "Thanks. I know they taste a little different than store-bought gingerbread. My parents make them with a lot of ginger."

"These are much superior to store-bought cookies."

"Thanks. You know, you're a lot nicer outside of school. You always seemed kind of grumpy in class."

"I'm not a fan of the state-mandated curriculum."

Marinette nodded. "I get what you mean. I barely have any room in my schedule for my design classes, with all the mandatory classes that Gotham Academy makes us take. I'm lucky that I have my internship, otherwise, I think I would go crazy, taking so many classes that I don't care about."

"Your internship is with Audrey Bourgeoise, isn't it?"

Marinette nodded. "I was friends with her daughter, back in Paris. Originally it was going to be a four-year internship in New York City, but I renegotiated some of the terms so that I could do the first two years in Paris, then the last two in Gotham, while she established the new branch of her company."

"You renegotiated the terms of a prestigious internship at the age of fourteen? Weren't you afraid of losing it if you pushed too hard?"

Marinette shrugged, nonchalant as if it were normal for an intern to make such a bold move. "I didn't want to leave Paris. My whole life was there. I wasn't ready to just pick up and move to a new country."

"What changed that you were able to come to Gotham?"

"There were a lot of reasons. Hawkmoth was the biggest one. I felt nervous about leaving my family and friends behind when he was terrorizing the city. After he was defeated I felt a lot more comfortable leaving."

That aligned with the theory that Marinette was Ladybug. "What were the other reasons?"

"My age was one. I didn't feel ready to leave home at fourteen and my parents didn't like the idea of me leaving home that young either. Another big one was the fact that I didn't have a good handle on my personal style. I was worried that designing full-time in Audrey Bourgeoise's office would cause me to lose my originality. The worst thing I could imagine was watering down my designs to appeal to the rest of the fashion industry."

"Your conviction is impressive. Most in your position would not worry about selling out to obtain such a highly coveted position."

"Audrey said the same thing, though when she said it, she spoke it with annoyance, not admiration. I've never been highly motivated by wide-spread success. I don't need to be a household name to feel content with life. I just want to design clothes that I'm proud of."

The fluttering feeling in Damian's chest returned with full force, alongside a tendril of anger at the unfairness of the situation. Here was the most perfect person Damian had ever laid his eyes on, and he was forced to pick her apart piece by piece to figure out her deepest darkest secrets. Damian didn't know much about relationships, but this didn't seem like the way they were supposed to go.

"You look upset," Marinette's observation was tinged by the worry in her voice.

"I'm not upset," he assured her. "I was just wondering how I never noticed how interesting you are."

Marinette flushed, her cheeks turning pink. "What does that mean?"

Damian shrugged. While his nonchalant attitude was all a bluff, his admiration of her accomplishments was all real. "Most of our classmates feel accomplished with the most conventional of achievements. Yet you secured an internship at the side of one of the most renowned fashion critics in the world and you still stay humble about it. You weren't blind-sighted by the incredible opportunity. You fought to maintain your values, no matter if it meant losing something priceless."

Marinette's blush deepened. "That's just who I am. It's not special, it's me."

"It is you," agreed Damian. "And it is special."

Marinette gave him a wide-eyed look, shocked by the emotion in his words. "We should get back to work," she said, self-consciously rubbing one cheek with the sleeve of her green wool sweater.

"Of course," Damian amicably agreed. He had pushed far enough for intel and had managed to get to know her a little better in the process. His flirting wasn't as blatant as it could have been, but it got the job done. Richard had said that once he knew the depths of his feelings he would know what to do. Richard was right. Damian's feelings were seemingly endless, a maze of all the things he liked about Marinette, in which every corner he turned was a new quirk that he couldn't un-notice. Yet Damian didn't want to pass on the responsibility of investigating Marinette to anyone else. He wanted a reason to spend time with her.

It wasn't the best situation. Damian wished that he could get to know her organically. However, Damian wasn't the type to dwell on the could-have-been. He had an opportunity to get to know Marinette right in front of him and he wasn't going to let it go.

Hours later, after Marinette went home, Richard stopped him in the hallway. "So what did you learn?"

"My investigation has proven inconclusive. I need to further get to know Marinette Dupain-Cheng if I want to uncover her identity. For research purposes, of course."

Richard laughed. "Of course."

#maribat #daminette #marinette x damian #maridami #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Damian Wayne #miraculous ladybug fic

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

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Next Time

Peter Parker x Rogers!reader

Summary: You and Peter make plans for "next time", not realizing just how quickly they would happen.

Warnings: none! Just fluff :)

Word Count: 3504

a/n: My first real Peter fic! So this is a sort of sequel to 16 hours isn't enough. I was just feeling inspired, but this focuses more on the readers relationship with Peter! You don't have to read the first part to understand this one.

Masterlist

“I’m gonna go out with Ned and MJ tomorrow, celebrate our day off. Do you wanna come?” You and Peter had just gotten back from patrolling, and it was already 2 am. He's hopeful that you'll want to spend more time with him, but given the guilty look on your face, he doesn't think your answer is going to be positive.

“I would love to, but I need to sleep for at least 15 hours. Maybe I can come next time? If we ever have another day off.” He can't help but laugh, completely understanding the feeling.

“Trust me, I get it. Next time works. Add in a 16th hour, you deserve it.” He smiles at your yawn, thinking about how cute you look when you're tired.

“Thanks Pete.” You both laugh when you yawn again. “16 hours might not even be enough.” He relishes in the feeling of your hug before heading to the elevator.

He decided to head back to Queens tonight so he could sleep in a little longer. He can definitely relate to your need for sleep, being a teenage avenger is an exhausting schedule to maintain.

The next morning, nearly afternoon, Peter finally gets out of bed. Having slept for 8 hours, he definitely understands what you were saying last night.

Still, he's a little bummed he won't be seeing you today. He gets ready anyway, texting MJ and Ned. The three of them decide to go to Delmar's for lunch and wing it from there.

After ordering their usual sandwiches, the trio heads outside to eat.

"I thought you were going to invite Y/N?" MJ starts the interrogation as soon as the three have sat down.

"I did, but she was exhausted, said she was going to sleep all day." He's bummed again at not seeing you, but he still understands.

"Oh man, I'm sorry dude." Ned responds, feeling bad for his friend.

"It's fine. I get it. I definitely could have slept for another 8 hours." Peter shrugs it off, not wanting to dwell on it.

"What should we do now?" Ned poses the question, looking at his friends.

"I don't know. Something fun though, I never have free time anymore." Peter complains, although his friends can tell he's mostly joking.

"I haven't been to Coney Island in a while. What if we go ride all the rides and make fun of the scaredy cats?" MJ suggests.

The two boys agree, finishing up their sandwiches and heading to the subway.

After a horrendous 2 hour subway ride, the three teens finally arrive at the theme park.

MJ drags the two of them from ride to ride, excitedly- but subtly- pointing out the strangers who look like they're going to puke.

Peter does his best not to think about you while he's there. He can't help but remember all the times you told him about going to Coney Island with your dad though. You absolutely loved your father daughter days.

"Dude, isn't that Y/N?" Ned smacks Peter on the shoulder, pointing toward the line for the slingshot ride.

"I thought you said she was sleeping all day..." MJ worriedly looks toward where Ned's pointing.

"Um, yeah. That's what she told me. It probably just looks like her." Peter doesn't want to turn around. He doesn't want to know.

"No, dude. That's definitely her." Ned keeps gawking, trying to get Peter to look. "Why is she with Captain America?"

Peter perks up at that, understanding what must have happened. "He's here too? He was supposed to be on a mission until Tuesday!" He finally turns around, easily spotting you and your dad in line for the ride.

He can't help but stare at how beautiful you are. His smile grows as he takes in your tired, but excited expression.

"Um, care to share your findings with the group?" MJ shoves his arm, trying to get his attention back.

"Huh? Oh! Right." Peter laughs at himself. "He wasn't supposed to be back until Tuesday, they must be having a father daughter day. She told me how they used to always go to Coney Island as an escape from the superhero life." Peter grins, remembering the first time you told him about missing spending time with your dad. He's happy you're finally getting just that.

"What?! Why didn't you tell us she was Captain America's daughter? That's so cool!" Ned finally turns back, staring wide eyed at Peter.

"I introduced her as Y/N Rogers... I kind of thought it was implied." Peter looks back and forth between his friends. It's clear MJ knew, but Ned is genuinely surprised.

"I'm honestly not even surprised you didn't put that together Ned." MJ shakes her head at the boy. "Now, what should we get for dinner?"

"Ohh, hot dogs! It's a Coney Island classic!" And just like that Ned's attention has been diverted. Peter can't help but steal one more glance at you.

You're clearly having a good time. It looks like you've finally convinced Steve to go on the slingshot if the cautious smile on his face means anything. He watches as you jump up and down, hugging your dad with a big bear hug.

He smiles at how happy you are before turning and following his friends to the hot dog stand.

Peter didn't see you at all on Sunday. Normally, the two of you would at least do some homework together, but you hadn't responded to any of his texts.

Around 10 pm, his phone finally dings indicating two new texts from you.

I'm so sorry! I slept so late today, I panicked and forced Tony to help me with my homework so I could get it done faster.

Did you get yours done? I can try to help you :)

haha, I thought you were going to sleep all day yesterday? And, yeah I got mine done. Thanks for the offer though! 😄

I was definitely planning to sleep all day. My dad got back early and surprised me with a father daughter day though. I didn't have the heart to tell him I was exhausted. 😴 I powered through a full day of hot dogs, amusement park rides, McDonald's, and a movie 😊

He was about to respond when another text came through.

Okay, admittedly I fell asleep halfway through the movie... but still

Honestly, Peter was glad to hear the confirmation that you hadn't lied to him. He didn't think you would, but it still calmed any unnecessary anxiety to know exactly what happened.

Well, I'm glad you got caught up on sleep today then. I actually was at Coney Island on Saturday too, what a crazy coincidence 😂

Peter...

Did you see me at Coney Island?

Damn, you know me too well... I did, but I saw your dad too so I figured you were having a father daughter day!

I just didn't want to sound creepy... 😳

Not creepy, just a coincidence...

we should go together sometime 😊

Peter nearly dropped his phone when the second text came through. Were you asking him out? Was it just a friend thing? Shit, he really needs to respond.

For sure!

Peter can't help but think he sounds like an idiot. "For sure?" Who says that?!

I mean, that would be great. Our next day off?

For sure! 😉

Oh god. He was definitely in for it now.

Yours and Peters next day off came a lot faster than he expected. Normally, you would go months without a whole day off.

Maybe Steve was worried about you, or maybe it was Tony. Maybe it was just a lack of bad guys, but not even two weeks later you were both given a day off.

"So, do you still want to go to Coney Island?" You were nervous to be asking Peter about your conversation a few weeks ago, but you wanted to spend time with him.

"Yeah, definitely! You'll have to show me all your favorite rides." he smiled, glad you brought it up so he wouldn't have to. "I can pick you up tomorrow at 8?"

"Sounds perfect. Not too early, but still early enough to get there before the crowds." You smiled. If he wanted to pick you up, maybe he thought it was a date...

You hugged him, lingering a little more than usual in his arms. "i'll see you tomorrow, Pete."

He blushed at the nickname, as usual. "Goodnight, Y/N."

The two of you went your separate ways, each freaking out about what the other was thinking.

The next morning, you were pacing around the kitchen in the compound, freaking out. You didn't want to make a fool out of yourself on this maybe date.

"Morning, sweet pea. What's on your mind?" Your dad walked in, getting ready to make his post-run smoothie. One look at your frazzled pacing, and he knew something was up.

You froze instantly. You hadn't even thought about telling your dad. "Oh, um... nothing?" You winced, knowing hoe unconving that was.

Steve laughed, even more intrigued now. "Come on, you can tell me. What's going on?"

"Well... I maybe have a date today..." You said the words slowly, unsure of how he would react. You hadn't talked to your dad much about dating.

His first question surprised you. "Maybe?"

You breathed a sigh of relief, glad he didn't immediately freak out. Unbeknownst to you, on the inside he was screaming.

"Well, yeah. I don't know if it's a date or not." Your nerves were back, displayed by your continued pacing.

"Do you want it to be a date?" Again, his question was calmer than you anticipated.

You didn't even need to think about your answer. "I do, but I don't know if he does. That's why it's a maybe."

He nodded, seeming to think about your predicament. "Nat! Can you come in here for a minute?"

You froze again, unprepared to share your maybe date plans with another Avenger.

"What's up, Cap?" She smiled at you, clearly having an idea as to what this could be about.

"Y/N maybe has a date." Her smile grew, clearly her idea was on the right track.

"Maybe, huh?" She turned back to Steve, trying to figure out why exactly he needed her help.

"Yeah, so can you help us figure out if it's an actual date?" You smiled at your dad, surprised but thankful for his actions.

"Of course! Tell me everything, how did you plan it?" She sat down at the island, listening intently as you explained your text conversation with Peter that day, leaving out only the fact that it was Peter.

You went on to describe the conversation you had with him yesterday, again leaving Peter's name out of it.

"Well, from what you described I can definitely see why you're confused. You've been friends with this guy for awhile?"

You nodded, even more nervous to hear your confusion is justified. She nodded to herself, seemingly pondering all the information that was presented.

"I think it's a date." You froze for the third time, unsure if that made your nerves better or worse. "But, you'll know for sure when he picks you up. If it's just a friend thing, he'll probably wear what he always wears. If he thinks it's a date, he'll probably dress a little nicer. He'll want to impress you." She winked as she rose from her chair.

"Thank you!" You rushed around the island, pulling her into a hug. Now you've at least got a plan as to how to figure out if this is a date or not.

"No problem, kiddo. I'm happy to help with girl stuff." She winked at Steve, heading out of the kitchen.

"So, you gonna tell me who this maybe date is with?" There's the questions you were expecting.

Before you could even think of a response, the doorbell rang. "Gotta go, love you!" You planted a kiss on his cheek, rushing out of the room before he could question you.

As you ran out, Tony wondered in just in time to hear Steve ask "Friday, who just rang the doorbell?"

"Mr. Parker, Captain."

Steve nearly choked on his smoothie.

"What's that about, Capsicle?" Tony asked, taken by surprise at the man's reaction.

"Peter Parker is taking my daughter on a maybe date." He said it with a sense of caution, unsure how to feel. To his joy, Tony nearly choked on the water he was drinking.

You were nervous to open the door, but excited to test Nat's theory. It made sense when you thought about it. you yourself dressed a little nicer than normal for your day with Peter.

Instead of jeans and a tee, you opted for a colorful t-shirt dress. It was still casual, and comfortable enough for a day at a theme park, but nicer than normal.

You flung the door open, immediately pulling Peter in for a hug. "Hi!" You were slightly out of breath from running from the kitchen, but Peter didn't say anything about it.

"You look really pretty." Peter blushed, squeezing you tightly.

"Thank you. You look very handsome." You couldn't stop the smile from growing as you took in his outfit. He had on a pair of khakis and a long sleeve button up. He still looked casual, but definitely nicer than normal.

"Thanks. You ready to go?" He held his arm out when you nodded, guiding you to the car when you took it.

You didn't know what to expect on the car ride, so you were pleasantly surprised when Peter put on some music. A few songs in, you recognized it as a playlist you made him of your favorite songs. Your heart melted a bit at the realization.

When you arrived at the park, Peter rushed to open your door for you. It was a tradition you never understood, but you blushed anyway, accepting his hand as you rose from the seat.

"What do you want to do first?" He lead you toward the entrance with a hand on your back, again taking you by surprise.

"Oh, well it makes the most sense to do the big rides first, before the lines get too long!" You were instantly in planning mode, creating the best route for you to get on all the best rides.

You eagerly pulled Peter through the park, holding his hand to guide him. It wasn't uncommon for you to grab his hand and drag him somewhere, but you felt a little bolder today. When you got to the first line, you intertwined your fingers, continuing to hold his hand as you waited.

The next few rides went the same way. You pulled Peter from one roller coaster to the next until lunch time.

"Do you want to get some lunch?" He intertwined your hands this time, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

"Sure! Let's go to Paul's Daughter, yeah? Dad and I had hot dogs last time." You scrunched up your face at the idea of eating more hot dogs.

Peter couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face as he took in your adorable expression. "I had hot dogs last time too."

The two of you just stared at each other smiling until someone bumped into trying to get around the boardwalk.

You laughed, squeezing his hand. The two of you strolled down the boardwalk until you made it to the restaurant.

You happily ate your burgers and fries, talking about anything and everything that came up.

After eating, you continued to walk along the boardwalk, giving yourself time to digest before doing anything else.

"Did you want to go to the arcade area?" Peter questioned, trying to make sure you did everything you wanted.

"Sure, we can play some games! Fair warning, I've had lots of practice. You can't get mad if I beat you." You couldn't help but tease him a bit.

"Darling, you wound me." He playfully slaps his hands over his heart, giving you his best puppy eyes. "Did you forget about my spidey senses?"

You laugh alongside him at his antics, genuinely having fun with him. All of your earlier nerves seem so unnecessary as you stare at his smiling face.

"Yeah, yeah spider boy. Let's see what you can do."

Unsurprisingly, Peter beat you at nearly every game you played. You might be a force to reckon with in hand to hand, but when it comes to throwing rings at bottles, he's got you beat.

True to every rom com ever made, Peter wins you a giant blue elephant. You're not even annoyed at losing, having experienced it over and over with your dad.

It's going on 8 pm when you finally finish playing games. You gave most of the prizes to little kids you passed, only keeping the elephant. You wanted something to remember this day by.

"Is there anything else you want to do?" You smile at Peter, letting him decide your final activity.

"I've always wanted to ride the ferris wheel..." He answered honestly, leaving out the part about kissing you at the top.

"Then ride the ferris wheel we shall!" He laughed at your over the top expression, smiling as you again dragged him by his hand.

The two of you slid into the last open seat on the ride, sitting next to each other with the elephant across from you.

You gleefully looked out over the park, smiling and pointing at all the lights.

"We never stayed this late when I was younger. I was always so tired, so we'd leave and get McDonald's on the way home." You smiled as you remembered countless father daughter days. "The lights look so pretty."

"Absolutely breathtaking." Peter whispers, not having taken his eyes of you for the duration of the ride. When the ride stops, the two of you are at the very top.

A slight breeze cause you to shiver, leaning into Peter for warmth. He puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

His other hand reaches up to brush your hair out of your face, and just like that you can barely breathe. His hand lingers on your cheek, eyes roaming your face.

You both lean a little closer, ready to take this next step when the ride jerks, causing each of you to jump back in shock. You lean your head on his shoulder for the duration of the ride, cursing the bad timing.

When you get off the ferris wheel, Peter guides you back to the car. Again, you're half expecting the ride to be a little awkward, but Peter doesn't let it happen.

The two of you continue talking about life, reminiscing on stories from when you were younger. Before you know it, your back at the compound.

Again, Peter gets out to open your door, taking the chivalry thing very seriously. He walks you to the door, painfully aware of your almost kiss on the ferris wheel.

"I had a really good time today, Pete. Thank you." You lean in, kissing him ever so lightly on the cheek.

You purposefully linger close to his face, willing him to give you a sign that he's on the same page.

His hands frame your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. You melt into each other, eagerly reciprocating the kiss until you need to pull away for air.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Peter whispers, his face still only millimeters from yours.

"Goodnight, Peter." You whisper back, planting a final quick kiss on his lips before going inside.

You lean back against the door, relishing in the feeling of his lips on yours. Eventually, you walk through the compound, heading for the elevators.

Unsurprisingly, Natasha, Tony, and your dad are all sitting in the common room you have to pass through.

Before you can ever utter a greeting, your dad is talking. "Parker, really?" Your not surprised that he figured it out, he probably just asked Friday. You are surprised at his tone of voice though. It almost sounds approving.

"Yeah..." Your answer is cautious, unsure of where this is going.

"I'm happy for you sweet pea, he's a good kid." You hug your dad, glad to know he's not going to ban you from seeing him. You wouldn't have expected him to react so drastically, but you’re still surprised by the calmness.

"Thanks, dad. I love you."

"I love you too." He rubs your back until you pull away, ready to head to bed.

Before you can leave the room, Nat asks the question all three adults have been wondering. "What's the verdict? Date or not a date?"

You were nearly out of the room when she asked, looking over your shoulder when you reach the doorway. Your face betrays the answer before your voice does, wearing a small, but loving smile. You involuntarily squeeze the elephant closer, hugging the giant stuffed animal closer to your body.

"Definitely a date."

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x rogers!reader #steve rogers x daughter!reader #marvel fic #natasha romanoff #tony stark #marvel

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yannowhatigiveup · 4 years ago

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My One And Only - Ch 2

Previous | Next

Again, this chapter isn’t as long as the others but I pROmiSe the chapters up ahead are longer. Also if you wanna join the tag list just ask :3

Also I am aware he said ‘superhero’ instead of ‘vigilante’ it was a mistake I might fix later lol

"Watch out Paris, a new superhero's coming to town”

————————————————————

Two days later...

Caline Bustier looked around, worriedly scanning all the students while doing a head count in her head. 'One missing' she thought to herself. Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn't here. Miss Bustier knew that Marinette would wonder off at times but she would always tell her and if she didn't, there was always someone nearby. But this time, there wasn't. "Lila told me she got on the bus" the teacher mumbled to herself. 'She wouldn't lie about that, would she?'. Miss Bustier then spotted Alya, she looked as if she was recording herself for her blog possibly, 'Surely she would know where Marinette is'. "Alya?"

The girl stopped recording and turned to her teacher. "Yes Miss Bustier?"

"Did you see Marinette on the bus? Lila said she did but I'm beginning to doubt her now" her voice trailed off at the end but she kept her eye contact with her student.

"No, Marinette never got on the bus" Alya said with slight worry in her voice. "But I am in contact with her, she's been sending video messages".

"Is she lost?"

"Slightly but she says she'll be here soon"

Miss Bustier let out a sigh of relief. "Tell her that she can take her time and not to worry, she has until 12 to get here. We'll be in this location until 4 pm. It's only-" she checked her watch "9 am right now so she has plenty of time" Alya nodded "But if she goes 30 minutes without sending a message, I want you to tell me right away"

"I will Miss Bustier"

"Good" Caline breathed, she headed over to where Mylene and Ivan were to ask if they'd seen Lila. If they hadn't, she would move on to talk to Rose and Juleka. She needed to talk with Lila. "It could be a misunderstanding" the teacher mumbled to herself. 'But it's happened before' she thought. The teacher kept herself on high alert to see if she could spot Marinette from afar, if she had found her way of course. This high alertness made her able to ease drop the conversation Alya was having with Nino and Adrien.

"That Lila snake back at it with her lies" she heard the girl say. "This time Marinette has been left behind because of it"

"Poor Marinette" Adiren murmured concern for his friend.

"At least Miss Bustier knows" Nino said to both his best friend and his girlfriend. "And Marinette can take care of herself".

Hearing they're words made Caline feel guilty, as if there was a way to stop this from ever happening. "But Marinette is one of my top students, she's our everyday ladybug so I'm sure she'll be able to find her way" Miss Bustier said, half believing what she told herself.

~~~

A bluenette was racing down the streets of Paris, luckily most of the paths were empty as she probably would've run into someone by now. "Oh Tikki" she said sadly to her loyal kwami in her bag. "I can't believe my class left without me". She kept running but a few tears ran down her cheek, but since she was sprinting, her face stayed dry.

"It's okay Marinette!" The kwami said while being jostled around in her owner's bag. "We'll get there I know we will!"

"Thanks Tikki" the girl said. "I can't believe how I actually believed what that that lying snake said".

Marinette was also holding a folder with her, with some of her original designs inside. She was supposed to meet her uncle, Jagged Stone, after the school trip. Marinette made sure that none of the papers flew out of the folder, but this concentration made her disregard what was ahead of her. Someone had turned the corner. Crash. Marinette ran into this person and had, some how, managed to trip them up. They must have been taller and had a better build than her as their weight was greater than hers.

It was Damian's first day in Paris, it was still morning. He thought it would be a relatively quiet day but that changed when something ran into him and tripped him up. He was aware it was a person, he just didn't know whom, after all, he knew no one in Paris. He assumed he might have to be the one to go to someone or make a friend to actually get to interrogate them. He just didn't expect the opportunity to come so soon.

He opened his eyes and there he saw the person that was under him, it was a girl. A girl with kind face, beautiful blue hair and gorgeous blue eyes to match. Though there was a tear stain. 'She must have been crying recently' he thought. He didn't realise that the girl was also examining his face.

'Wow, he's so...I...his eyes...' A bunch of words were scrambled in her thoughts as she stared into the pools of gorgeous emerald green eyes but then she realised what had happened.

"I'm so sorry!" The girl blurted out in French. 'Her voice is so...no Damian snap out of it!'

"It's fine-"

"No it isn't! I'm the one who ran into you and tripped you up. I am so sorry, I'm such a klutz". Damian then realised how this situation might have looked to others who didn't have any context, his face turned a shade of red. The girl must have also realised cuz her cheeks became rosy red as well. 'Cute, wait what?' Damian then got up and leant his hand out of the girl.

"No honestly it's fine" he said as the girl got up. He noticed a folder and knelt down to get it for her, the way she blushed as he gave it to her made him subconsciously smile. 'What's going on with me?'.

"Thank you" the girl mustered up after a few seconds. "Also I hope you don't mind me asking but I noticed you have a bit of an accent, are you visiting Paris?"

"I don't mind at all and yes, I have come from Gotham" he told her, still with a blank expression on his face.

"Well we can talk in English then if it's more comfortable with you, I do need to practice it" the girl said switching to English. "How has your stay been so far?"

"Well today is actually my first day here, I arrived last night" Damian said, also switching to English.

"Oh that's cool! I hope your day, and your stay, goes well!" She said with a smile on her face. "And let's hope you don't get mixed in with some akumatized villains" she whispered, though Damian managed to here it. 'Akuma what?' He wanted to ask her about it but her eyes were drifting off elsewhere.

Marinette spotted a cafe she sometimes goes to. "Are you busy? If not then let me treat you to something after all you are the guest here!" There was a delightful smile on her face and she made sure she was pleading in her eyes.

"Well I don't have anything I'm supposed to do but-"

"Great!" She grabbed his hand and began walking to the cafe she spotted.

'...This girl, I like her'

~~~

Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster

#maribat #daminette #maridami #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #mlb x dc

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boldlyanxious · 4 years ago

Text

Detected

Part 6: Aliens are real?

Marijon series

Masterlist

He was outside the school waiting when Marinette got out. He smiled and walked right up to the group exiting the building. Alya laughed at her while she looked down in embarrassment. Everyone was excited to see him back again and ask questions about living in America and having famous journalist parents. He smiled widely and answered all their questions giving anecdotes about his life and how it had been affected him.

"So what brings you back here during your vacation?" Alya asked with a sly smile.

"I wanted to the sights of Paris from the perspective of a Parisian teen," he replied.

Everyone spoke at once offering to go with him and show their favorite spots. He ignored them all watching Marinette.

"I didn't want to miss any of the beauty in the city," he added.

Everyone else went silent, some of them gaping at his obvious flirting, but he didn't pay any attention to them. He reached out his hand for Marinette's. She took his hand and stepped closer, looking into his eyes. He smiled at her and they walked away. He turned and waved to the others then looked right at Alya.

"By the way, my parents loved your superhero blog."

Alya was left sputtering and overwhelmed. But only had they seen it but they liked it enough to mention it after that they enjoyed it. She could live on that praise for years.

---

Jon and Marinette had wandered around Paris for over 2 hours neither one mentioning anything about heroes or villains. They talked about their lives and plans for the future after school. They avoided the near future when they would no longer be in the same city for at least the next couple of years. The conversation stalled as they headed back towards the bakery. It wasn't uncomfortable. It was just quiet. Their hands were swinging gently, never having been separated. But hen he pulled his hand away from hers and used his arm to lay across her shoulders and pull her against him. She froze at first at the change, but then relaxed into him.

"I don't want this night to end," she said. "It feels too perfect."

"I really like being with you."

He stopped walking and turned towards her. His response had been sweet but there was a sudden shift in the tension. He couldn't keep his arm on her shoulder so he took both of her hands. They were walking over the Seine on a footbridge, the other people crossing walked around them and continued on their way. Jon motioned her to move to the side. They sat together holding hands again as they had most of the time but he felt more serious.

"Marinette, I had to tell my parents what I learned about you."

"I guess I'm not surprised. You all came together to look for me."

She pulled her hands back and started to push herself off the ground. He looked sad but didn't try to stop her.

"Wait, please."

"For what? You still need to learn all of my secrets so you can prove I'm evil?"

"I don't think you are evil. My parents don't either. But there is the issue is the security of our base."

"It's that what this has all been about? You got me to relax so you could interrogate me."

"I'm not interrogating but what you did should not be possible without creating an alert."

"For a human," she said pointing at him but her eyes were far away. "You said it was impossible for a human to get in because the key was super heavy."

She paused while he pondered the explanation.

"That was not a pun, I swear."

"Puns are great," he smiled at her reaction. "It is impossible for a human to lift the key. But not for me."

"What are you saying? Are you secretly from another planet?"

"No. I'm not. I was born here and my mother is human. But my dad was born on a planet called Krypton."

"Aliens are real? Your dad is an alien. From another planet. You have a secret base on this planet to take over the world?"

He laughed at her reaction but quickly moved to clearing up the confusion.

"He is a refugee here. He was sent here as a baby when his home planet was destroyed. There is no take over. There is no one left."

"Are there other aliens?"

"Yes. I know Daxamites come from a planet very near Krypton and of course Martians."

"Martians? From Mars. Like the planet right next to this one and no one noticed?"

"It's complicated, but yes, that Mars."

"Are you supposed to be telling me all this?"

"No. But trust goes both ways. We both know identity secrets that we weren't supposed to know. I trust you. But I need to make sure no one else can enter how you did."

"I can't give specific details but hopefully I can ease your fears. How much do you know about the Miraculous magic?"

"Not a whole lot. It's jewelry that gives the owner powers."

"That's enough to understand. Each jewelry has a different power. I have more than one but usually just use the one to become Ladybug."

"So it's one piece of jewelry that can get there?"

"As far as I know. I used teleportation power and asked for solitude. Your base is where I ended up."

"Well it is the Fortress of Solitude. I guess that makes sense."

"I'm fairly certain I can make it so no one can go there again."

"No one but you?"

"I think that could work. Are you inviting me back to your secret base?"

"Definitely."

#marijon week 2021 #marijon #jonette #mlb x dc #boldlyanxious

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lady-literature · 4 years ago

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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

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

#maribat #daminette #ml x dc #my typewriter #for us to collide

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fanartfunart · 4 years ago

Text

Fly Away

Episode 4: Bibliotech

Ao3 - First - 2 - 3

(Féline Sombre & Paon Lilas designs)

Summery: An AU where Adrien never went to in-person school, not getting the cat miraculous, and found the peacock miraculous. -Adrien sets out to find the Grimoire, and Alya volunteers her investigative skills, interviewing her classmates. Until a librarian gets akumatized and traps them all in a maze of books.

(tw for sickness. very vauge. Much like canon)

Alya hummed along to her CD of Nino’s music, ignoring the sounds of siblingly chaos outside her room. Her phone buzzed and she looked down at the text.

Double A: “Hi, you’re the local superhero expert, right?”

She chuckled at Adrien’s question and texted back, “The one and only! Why? Whatcha wondering about?”

“I’m looking for a specific book, actually? An older one about superheros, with lots of different kinds. Seen it anywhere?”

She tilted her head “Just the one you said Chloé took from your dad’s???”

Adrien spent a long time typing only for his reply to read “Oh. Of course, thank you.”

Alya frowned and called him. Adrien picked up with a delay, piano music playing in the background. His voice was hushed “Hi, uh, why are you calling me?”

“What’s going on? Did you not know what kind of book Chloé, or I guess your dad, had?”

“Oh...oh um. No, no I did. Of course I knew what kind of book it was, that’s why I was asking about it. Because it’s lost and I wanted to find it, for my dad,” Adrien chuckled awkwardly.

“Why are you whispering? Are you at a concert?”

“Oh... no I’m supposed to be practicing piano right now...”

“Oh so you’re playing a recording? Huh. Smart.” Alya got up and grabbed her shoes. “Want me to ask around for your book then? It’s kinda my thing. Plus, Chloé never let me get close enough to look at it.”

“You’d do that?” Adrien whispered softly.

“Yeah boy! Don’t worry about it. If Chloé lost it during or before the Collector situation then it’s probably not too far from the school’s social circle.”

“Wow great! Oh whoops- I gotta get back to my practice, Natalie’s coming- so uh... goodbye!”

Alya chuckled “Bye Adrien.” They hung up and Alya got ready for her interrogations.

The majority of the students Alya could easily get a hold of knew nothing about where it went. So her only leads were Chloé and Sabrina. They had the same story: Marinette and Lila were the last two people they saw besides each other when the book disappeared.

She met with Lila at the library, Marinette scheduled to meet her not too long after.

Lila was looking at the mystery section when Alya waved her over. "Thank you for meeting with me."

She nodded with a smile, putting down her murder mystery novel, "Of course, what did you need?"

Alya got out her notepad, pen at the ready. "Are you aware that the book Chloé brought to class is missing?"

"It is? Oh no, I didn't. Are you looking for it for her?"

"Not exactly," Alya scribbled down a note. "For its original owner, not Chloé. But! Do you mind describing where you saw it last?"

Lila hummed and shook her head, "I'm sorry, I just remember Chloé showing it to me before she fell and ran off. I thought she had it. Sabrina seemed to really want to leave though."

"I already got Sabrina and Chloé's statements… Marinette was with you, right?"

"Oh! Yes, she was. If you want I can talk to her for you?"

"That's okay," Alya said, "I've already arranged for her to give me her story next. I'm just covering my bases."

Lila hummed and nodded, "If you don't mind my curiosity, who's the original owner?"

"Oh, the Aggrestes," Alya said, "Adrien asked me to help."

Lila raised a brow, "Adrien? He's the one whose face is plastered practically all across Paris, yes?"

Alya chuckled and nodded, "Yeah, I guess he's a little famous. He's pretty cool. He almost was gonna be in our class, actually. He would've transferred in just before you," she shrugged, "Guess his dad changed his mind."

Lila tapped her fingers across the mystery novel's cover and smiled, "Well, I don't have much else for you. Hope you find it for him. It seemed like a special book." Lila stood up, and they waved goodbye.

Adrien quietly walked up to the librarian. He smiled, “Hi.”

The librarian looked up with a barely suppressed annoyance, “Hello. How can I help you?”

"I was looking for books related to superheroes?"

He sighed, "Right there. Very popular lately." He pointed lazily and returned his gaze to his computer.

“Oh, thank you!” Adrien followed his direction towards a section that seemed to be dedicated to Féline Sombre and Ladybug. Decorated with red and black spots and green cat paw paper crafts. It was small, secluded. Creating a comfortable nook.

"Come on out, Duusu," Adrien whispered. The kwami zipped out and fluffed his feathers, tilting his head. "Any books you recognize?" Duusu hummed and flitted between the shelves of books. Adrien skimmed through the titles. (How did people get the rights to publish fiction works about the heroes? …Do Ladybug and Féline Sombre get royalties?) He tilted his head at a title "A History of Heroics: the Lesser Known Origins of Paris’s Superheroes"

Duusu came back and hovered in front of him, "Nope, nothing.”

Adrien huffed a sigh, "Well this is the last library nearby I can think of. It's got to be in somebody's private collection then, Duusu."

Duusu's head drooped, overcome with a quiet sadness. He glanced up, seeing something behind Adrien. He gasped and hid. Adrien spun on his heel. Natalie stood there, hands behind her back.

"You abandoned your piano practice and missed a photoshoot," she said, "I'm glad you're…" she looked around at the shelves, raising a brow, "taking initiative... in your learning, but you can't just abandon your responsibilities."

He nodded, hanging his head. "I- you're right, sorry..."

She glanced down at him and sighed. Her tone softened, "Go finish up and check out your books, we will wait for you outside in the car."

He looked back up with a smile, "Oh, thanks, I'll uh-" He glanced down at the book he was caught holding. Apparently he was into history today... "I'll go check this out…"

Lila waited at the doorway, much to the annoyance of the terse librarian. She ignored him.

Marinette stumbled through the doors, carrying a box of pastries. Clearly buttering up Alya to make her believe whatever lie she came up with. Lila rolled her eyes at such amateur tactics.

She sashayed towards Marinette, "Hi Marinette, how are you today?"

"Lila! Good, good, how are you?" She smiled brightly and opened the box of macaroons, "Want some? I mentioned I was visiting a friend and we had some leftovers, so my dad kinda pushed them on me."

"No, thank you. I'm just fine. But Alya was asking about that book you borrowed from Chloé. ...I'd be careful if I were you, I wouldn't want it all pinned on you. Who knows what Chloé's reaction would be."

Marinette tilted her head “She was? Why should I-”

”Well you had it last... But I know, you're so sweet, you could never steal, could you?" she smiled, grin sharp and fox-like. "Although… you’ve had ample time to return it... actually, I just remembered something... I should go tell Alya-"

"Wha- no no, I didn't steal it! It's fine, I can explain everything to Alya!" Marinette waved her hands frantically.

"Hm. You still have it right?"

"Er… No...I uh, returned it.... To the… library."

"Well should be easy to find again then," She waved a hand to the library's bookshelves, "I'd love to see it again. I'll make sure Chloé never hears who had it, if you give it to me."

"What? Why do you want it?"

"I want to return it to its original owner, that's all," she said, pressing a hand gingerly against her chest, "and do you really trust Alya to be quiet about it? She's all about truth and justice..."

Marinette frowned, folding her arms, "Alya’s more trustworthy than you, that's for sure… Whatever plan you have, I'm not going to be part of it."

The librarian abandoned his post, frowning, "Excuse me, what's going on here?"

Lila gave a pitifully sad look to the librarian, "She stole a book from one of my friends and won't return it! She loved that book and-"

Marinette sputtered. "What, I didn't steal-" The librarian raised a hand to stop them both.

"You'd make a very good actor. But, you're a tad over dramatic, young lady. I overheard your conversation. Your earlier tone clearly indicated elements of blackmail."

"Wh- well...well," Lila looked around, at a loss for how to lie her way out of this. Her hands balled into fists, "Well, you're just a dumb book scanner. You don't know what you're talking about," she said, "Stay out of it!"

He balked and his expression hardened, "Out."

She gasped, "What? This is a public library-"

"Yet, this dumb book scanner is telling you to get. Out. You blackmailed another patron and then tried to lie to me," he pointed to the doors, pen in hand. "So, I'd rather not repeat myself a third time."

Lila stomped out. Adrien tilted his head as he walked towards the counter, seeing Marinette watching the sceene. “Marinette?” She turned to look at him, raising a brow.

“Wha- Adrien? What are you doing here?”

A purple butterfly landed on the librarian's pen.

"Bibliotech, I am Hawkmoth. One too many people have dismissed and belittled you. I can give you the power to make sure everyone listens to you. You'll be the smartest person in the room at all times. In return, all I ask is for Ladybug, Féline Sombre, and Paon Lilas' Miraculous."

The librarian narrowed his eyes, adjusted his glasses, and grinned, "They'll all regret underestimating me." His glasses were now a glowing visor, his pen had seemed to have morphed into a staff. He twirled the staff in a motion that made a red “P” in the air.

“Marinette!” Adrien pointed, and ran towards her. Marinette turned and gasped as the window crashed as the pen-staff was thrown towards Lila’s receding figure. Lila disappeared as the pen touched her. Bibliotech summoned the staff back to himself, a meter on the pen filling slightly. He turned towards Marinette and Adrien.

"You seem like smart kids," he said, which didn't sound especially good to be in this context, "I hope you're ready for the test. Unfortunately, I don't have a number 2 pencil for you to borrow!"

He twirled his staff-pen and was about to hit Marinette with it, but Adrien shoved her to the floor. He stared at her for a moment. “You okay?”

She nodded and scrambled up. “Run!” She directed, pointing somewhere for Adrien to go while she ran into another opposite direction.

Adrien took the opportunity to dive behind the library counter. “Duusu, spread my feathers!”

"Akuma! Evacuate the Library!" Marinette yelled. She glanced down each row of books for a hiding spot to transform.... Come on, why does every row of books have at least one person in it?!

Alya stood up as Marinette ran toward her, "Marinette?! Akuma? Where!?" She started getting out her phone.

"Do not go toward the angry supervillain, please!" Marinette exclaimed, pushing Alya in the opposite direction.

Paon Lilas crashed into a bookshelf nearby, chuckling awkwardly. “Hi girls. Don’t mind me.” He stood back up, wobbily, as Bibliotech and a pair of people with a red “F” on their chests walked forward, expressions frighteningly vacant.

“You deserve a bad grade for your attitude!” Bibliotech called.

“My attitude? Who are you, my father?” Paon Lilas snarked back, running back towards him.

“No, I’m Bibliotech,” he said, matter of factually. He side stepped Paon Lilas’s attack and the minions grabbed the superhero.

He hummed, "I don't want to make it easy for you," Bibliotech drew the shorthand for “revise” and tapped a book shelf. The shelves bended and twisted into a maze-like structure. Blocking off Marinette and Alya together, and Paon Lilas with the villains.

"Nonono nooo," Marinette cried.

"If you can escape this I'll let you pass automatically!" Bibliotech's voice echoed. "Trust me, you'll need to pass this test."

"Ugh, we're not gonna be able to see the fight from here…" Alya turned towards Marinette, "Come on, we gotta stick together if we wanna get out of here. Two minds are better than one, girl. I'm sure the superheroes will have it handled in no time!"

Marinette sighed. "Let's just hope they can find their way through this…"

Féline Sombre called Ladybug again, and huffed as it continued to not go through. She really hoped she hadn't been caught by Bibliotech. They landed outside the library and looked around. It was eerily quiet. She cautiously walked in.

"Hello Féline Sombre. I'll give you one chance to do this easily." Bibliotech sat on the top of one of the book shelves, legs crossed, "Hand me that ring, please."

"I appreciate the please, not so much the everything else," Féline Sombre said, and extended her staff to knock him down towards her.

He blocked it with his own staff, and dropped to the ground, twirling it. "I hope you're ready to pay your late fees then."

Féline Sombre narrowly avoided being tapped with his staff and giggled nervously. "Do cats get late fee exemptions?"

"No," he said bluntly, twirling his staff and using the back half of it to throw her off balance. They grabbed onto their staff and extended it, twirling on the bar and leaping down to kick him back.

She tumbled and turned around, only for the man to have disappeared. They sighed, “Ladybug better get here fast.”

Paon Lilas threw off the other mindless drone and kicked the bookshelf. He stumbled backwards, barely avoiding the avalanche of books, vision blooming with spots. The akuma’s minions didn’t move after he was out of their grip. “Wow, is that what a failing grade does to you? He made them real dunces.... Oo, Dunce caps. That’s what I’m calling them now.”

He frowned at the rows of books and braced a hand against the wall to keep his balance. Someone nearby was very frustrated. He turned to follow it. It was probably Bibliotech.

Marinette anxiously tried to find somewhere to lose Alya. She took unexpected turns and ran ahead, but no. Alya just turned right with her, despite the fact that she was also recording everything.

"It seems Bibliotech basically gave the building a revision, like a teacher might to a student's essay." Alya narrated, "He's also making this maze really hard… Marinette no, we went that way before!"

Marinette groaned in exasperation, "Shouldn't we… split up to cover more ground?"

"I'd suggest against it," A calm, overly gentle, masculine voice said, "Besides, I’m here to help now."

Marinette froze. Please no, please no not him. Couldn’t Féline Sombre have come to save them before him? She turned around and frowned at Paon Lilas. He smiled (annoyingly) at her.

"How did you find us?" Marinette cried, throwing up her hands.

"I followed the feelings of frustration,” he said with an awkward laugh. “Anyway, we should get you out of here-”

“You’re not going to help Ladybug and Féline Sombre with Bibliotech?” Marinette said, folding her arms.

He shrugged, “Can’t be much help if I can’t find any of them, can I?” he offered a hand, "Paon Lilas, if you haven't heard of me yet."

"Alya, creator of the Ladyblog. I’ve definitely heard of you," Alya accepted the hand and instead of shaking it, he leaned down to kiss her hand. Marinette pointedly did not give him her hand or a name.

"So, you mentioned you followed our feelings- Can you tell who the emotions are connected to?" Alya aimed her phone camera at Paon Lilas, obviously preparing to interview him. Paon Lilas waved for them to follow him and started walking. Alya followed.

"Er, stronger emotions are easier to find, and akuma victims are usually really really strong… So, I can make a good guess? Uh... a few people are… loud? Emotionally. Right now, though." He seemed to wince, minutely. It was covered with a smile. He shrugged, "It's making it a little hard to isolate Bibliotech."

Marinette frowned and turned down a random turn the rest of the group had walked past. Paon Lilas turned around, "Mar- er, Miss, where are you going?"

Marinette groaned in frustration and smiled sharply at him, "Sorry, got excited."

He giggled, a strange (condescending?? No… fond?!?) smile on his lips. "I noticed. Do you need me to hold your hand? ...To keep you from running down every turn out of excitement?"

"Nope! Nope. I'm good." She stuffed her hands in her pockets and glared forward. Alya mercifully was too distracted by Paon Lilas to comment.

Féline Sombre ran past, then skidded to a halt and returned to the group. “Birdy! Seen Ladybug?”

“Nope, no Buggaboo yet. Nice of you to join us though, Kitten.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose at the nickname. Buggaboo? Really?

Féline Sombre frowned, “Okay.... We need a way to work through this maze to get to the Akuma and make sure Ladybug can find us...”

"We could help!” Alya said, “Marinette and I could make a book trail.”

“If you do that, I could probably more easily use my powers to track down Bibliotech’s emotions.”

"What?" Marinette squeaked, "Surely they can do that themselves. How about we… find a good place to hide while they do that!?"

Paon Lilas frowned and glanced at the group. He gently pulled Marinette off to the side.

"You're nervous and frustrated... Do you really want to stay here? Wait until Ladybug captures the akuma?"

Marinette glanced around. Easy out. She nodded. "Sure, you go ahead and I'll stay right here!"

"I could give you a sentimonster to protect you, and your friend Alya, if she wants to stay too. Then Féline and I can just go find Bibliotech."

"Oh you uh, you don't need to do that. I'm fine staying here alone!"

"I want to," he smiled, "I want to help. Trust me."

Marinette frowned and nodded, "Fine…"

He fumbled forward without warning, eyes widening. He quickly straightened himself out and took a deep breath. He smiled again, like the moment never happened. He plucked a feather from his fan and imbued it with power, blowing it towards Marinette in away absurdly close to blowing a kiss. The feather fluttered into Marinette's purse and the twin masks of light appeared on their faces.

"If you need anything just tell me," he said, "I can hear it, no matter how far." He winked and the light faded.

A fluffy, black and white dog with a pink floral pattern on its forehead and paws, sat next to Marinette.

Paon Lilas turned towards Alya and Féline Sombre. "Marinette's staying here with senti-pup. Alya, what do you want to do?"

"I'm going with you, I wanna record this!"

Féline humed, "Okay but you need to keep out of the way… I still have no idea what the Akuma is in so-"

"The pen" Paon Lilas said, “The akuma’s in the pen.”

Marinette blinked, “How did you know that?”

He chuckled awkwardly, “I- er, call it intuition.”

“Huh. Great. Cool, go save the day!” Marinette pushed Paon Lilas away, as senti dog barked at the rest of them, herding them like a sheepdog.

With the group finally gone, she ran down the corner a little farther and sighed as Tiki zipped out.

"I love Alya but seriously, I could've been helping Féline Sombre already."

Tiki giggled, "What are we doing with your new buddy?"

"Oh. Right. Uh…" She took off her purse so it wouldn't disappear in her transformation. "There, let's go. Tiki! Spots on!"

She picked up her purse and made a hush motion to the dog, who wagged its tail.

They followed Paon Lilas's lead Alya trailing behind putting down books to keep them on track. The strongest emotions led them into what must be the center of the library maze. Surrounded by Dunce Caps.

Ladybug ran in behind them, Marinette's Sentidog at her heels.

"Ladybug?" Paon Lilas frowned at her, "Why do you have Marinette's purse?"

"She, uh, gave it to me, I led her out of the building and she didn't want your amok to go to waste."

He sighed, "So brave," under his breath. He shook his head. “Let's get this over with...”

Ladybug caught his arm before he could jump into fray. "We've gotta be smart about this, this whole thing is a test, right?"

He glared at her hand on his arm and pulled away. "Fine, what is your plan, M’lady?"

She huffed and then glanced at Sentidog and Alya’s phone. "Okay, Alya, I need your phone for a second. Mind pulling up a recording?"

Alya nodded and handed her the phone. Ladybug handed it to Sentidog who bounded off, as the audio began playing. The Dunce Caps turned and followed the noise, leaving the entry unprotected.

The group walked up to it. Paon Lilas tried the door and frowned. "Locked."

"It's a puzzle," Féline Sombre said, pointing to the books above the doorway. She extended her staff to allow her to reach, and began rearranging the books.

"They're all classics, but," they clicked them into place, "They were out of order.”

The door opened. Paon Lilas raised a brow, "How… do you know the library’s organization system?"

Féline Sombre looked confused, "You don't?"

The group walked in, and Sentidog returned, no longer holding the phone, clearly having dropped it somewhere. (Alya meanwhile got out her tablet to record instead.)

Bibliotech sat on a floating platform of books. “Took you less time than I thought it would... Are you cheating?” He shook his head, “Doesn’t matter, once I deal with you, I won’t have anything else in my way.”

Bibliotech flourished his pen in an P motion and moved to tap Ladybug with it. Paon Lilas jumped in front of her, taking the hit. He disappeared. The staff returned to Bibliotech’s hands.

Ladybug gasped. "Why did he do that? Ugh! Stupid bird- Lucky Charm!" A box fell into her hands.

Bibliotech focused on Ladybug. She used her yoyo as a shield on each hit, searching for how to use the cardboard box.

Féline Sombre extended her staff to meet Bibliotech, landing a solid kick. Bibliotech wrote another Revise note and created another platform for him to jump onto, away from Féline. The red meter went down.

"It's an ink pen." Ladybug whispered, "Féline, destroy the platform!"

"No problem, Bug! Cataclysm!" Féline Sombre touched Bibliotech’s platform, and he grabbed their hand. They yelped and stumbled to remain precariously on the platform. Ladybug whistled and Sentidog ran up and grabbed Féline Sombre’s leg. She shifted to a less unsteady part of the platform, trying to shake off Bibliotech’s grasp on her arm. He readied his pen.

"You forgot the lid!" Ladybug said, and threw the cardboard box up. Féline Sombre grabbed it with their free hand, and caught the tip of the pen from Bibliotech’s attack.

Bibliotech tried to pull back, but the Sentidog grabbed Bibliotech's staff, growling. Ladybug tied Bibliotech's arms in her yoyo and sentidog pulled the staff away and raced down the platforms. Féline shifted to keep a hold of Bibliotech.

Ladybug caught the dog as it jumped into her arms, giggling, "Good puppy."

It dropped the pen and she snapped it in half.

The butterfly fluttered out and the book platforms began to crumble. Féline grabbed Bibliotech and extended their staff to catch their fall, sliding down.

Ladybug caught the Akuma and threw the cardboard box in the air. "Miraculous Ladybug!"

Paon Lilas and the rest of the people reappeared. Paon instantly doubled over and coughed. His miraculous beeping.

Féline Sombre ran over to him, "Are you okay?"

He groaned, but nodded anyway. "Fine…Ya know, I was going for knocking the pen off-course but, taking the hit works too, I guess." He stumbled to a wobbling stand. Ladybug walked up to him, the sentidog on her heels. He ran.

"Wait!" Ladybug called. He turned a corner. She tried to follow him, but the aisle of books was empty. He was gone.

A mask of light appeared on her face. “Hey, Marinette. Hope you’re okay. They purified the akuma. I’m uh, pulling the amok, make sure to get your purse back from Ladybug. Sorry-” The mask disappeared, presumably because he had detransformed.

Sentidog was gone when Ladybug returned. She sighed. She was kinda going to miss that dog. Ladybug went to go help the librarian before her transformation dropped.

Adrien barely caught Duusu as the kwami tumbled out of the brooch, exhausted. He pressed himself flat against the bookshelf, taking deep breaths between bouts of coughing. Pulling out the mango chips for the kwami, he groaned and slid to the floor.

He didn't know how long he sat there. Next thing he knew, Marinette was crouched next to him. Her hand on his shoulder, gentle. "Hey, hey, are you okay?"

He looked up, "Uh… No." He glanced back at the ground, his mind going back to his mother. Her illness. Her unsteadiness and coughs. He felt tears well up in his eyes. "I don't think so."

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ml ladybug #adrien agreste #peacock!adrien #black cat!sabrina #sabrina raincomprix #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #Peon Lilas AU #lila rossi #fly away fic #fanart's fanfic #fanfic #miraculous swap #the reason I'm writing this so fast is 100% Broadway's fault #sickness tw

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pretchatta · 4 years ago

Text

I Saw Her Tomorrow

the authors of the MayThe4th fic exchange have been revealed! I've been dying to share my gift for @ambiguityisnoonesfriend ever since I finished it, so here it is.

a huge thank you to @skitter-kitteruwu for beta reading!!

rating: general; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 7.8k words (4 chapters, complete)

link to full work

---

Hera, 0BBY

The wind whistled in her ears and whipped her lekku as Hera wrestled with the glider. Her exhilaration at flying was tempered by her awareness of the imminent danger. They were losing altitude fast, but their forward velocity was enough that the roof of the fuel station was getting bigger with every passing second.

"This is gonna be close!" she yelled to Kanan.

"It always is!" he called back. She knew he couldn’t see the precariousness of their situation, and yet he trusted her completely to fly them through it.

The glider skimmed over the lip of the building, barely clearing it. The durasteel frame screeched as it skidded over the roof, but didn’t crumple. She just about managed to hold on. The rush of another successful landing almost made her giddy.

Kanan was no longer beside her; he hadn’t been able to brace in time and had lost his grip on impact. His momentum had carried him over the glider’s nose to roll onto the roof.

He pushed himself up with a groan. "That was one of your better crashes."

Hera gave him a scandalised look as she dismounted and wagged a finger at him. "Kanan Jarrus, you know I never crash. I have very-"

"Very exciting landings," he finished for her with a smile, grabbing the admonishing hand. "Thanks for reminding me. Come on!" He pulled her towards the middle of the roof and away from the pursuing Imperials.

After a few steps she had to stop him from running over the edge; the Empire hadn't yet finished covering the station. She was about to tell him off for not seeing it, but then she stopped herself with a giggle. He was blind; he couldn’t see anything.

His head jerked as though he suddenly sensed what was in front of them. He made an impatient noise in the back of his throat, clearly displeased with how exposed they were, and grabbed his commlink.

"Spectre-5, do you read? How are you coming with that ship?"

"Kanan! Did you get her?" Sabine's tinny voice came through from the other end. Hera hadn’t even realised she’d been worried, but she felt something unclench slightly from around her heart at the sound.

"Of course he did," she replied, leaning into Kanan slightly to reach the small device. She immediately lost her balance, but he caught her without missing a beat and nudged her back upright. Maybe those interrogation drugs weren’t out of her system quite yet.

"There’s been a change of plans," Kanan was saying into the comm. "We need a pickup–"

"At the fuel station," Sabine cut in, "I know. The Empire does too."

He grimaced. She found herself fascinated by how naked his mouth looked without his beard surrounding it. "Well, let’s hope you get to us fi–"

"Hold on, there are new orders coming through." She paused. "All ships are being ordered to maintain high altitude to allow a bombing run on the fuel station."

"What?" Kanan yelped. "They’ll blow up the whole factory if they do that!"

Sabine sounded like she was still listening to the Imperial orders. "Apparently the roof is reinforced, and can take a hit."

"The roof is unfinished! There’s a giant hole in it!" Kanan gestured towards it even though there was no visual link on the comm.

"I guess Pryce really doesn’t want us getting away," Hera muttered.

"Kanan, it doesn’t matter." There was a definite note of panic in Sabine’s voice now, and it was mirrored by a rising fear in Hera. "I’m not gonna be able to get down to you before the bomber arrives without blowing our cover and getting shot to pieces!"

"That’s not a problem. Just get directly overhead, as quickly as you can. Tell Ezra to be ready to catch us – just like we practised."

Hera heard Sabine’s shaky breath over the comm. "I’ll let you know when I’m in position."

The light blinked off.

This was bad. Adrenaline returned to Hera’s body, chasing away the drug-induced fog that had started clouding her brain since they’d landed. What was Kanan up to?

"What do you have planned?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"When they get here, I’ll jump," he said simply. "I can get pretty high, and Ezra can pull us the rest of the way from above."

Her mind conjured the image of him cradling her in his arms as they soared upwards, just like in every ridiculous superhero holo they’d watched together.

Except this one isn’t ridiculous, because he would do that.

He would always come to save her. Whatever it took, he would always be there. He’d fly into the middle of a maximum security Imperial complex on a few pieces of scrap metal and junk, cut her free of her bonds, fight off a nightmarish assassin and escape an impossible dead-end situation by calling on his supernatural powers.

She felt a wave of emotion rise within her, a surge of warmth that threatened to spill into tears. Did he even know how incredibly important he was to her? They’d been so focused on fighting for so long, they’d had to actively find time to be alone together before she’d left. She’d figure out how to break the other news later, but right now there was one thing Hera needed to say to him.

"Kanan," she started. His attention immediately focused on her; there was something in her voice, something soft and vulnerable, yet serious. "I know it’s been a while since I’ve said it, and I know this isn’t really the moment, but… I love you."

Her ungloved fingers stroked the exposed skin of his cheek. He turned his head slightly in response so that his lips brushed her palm.

"I know," he said simply. It was the best thing he could have said. "And I love you too."

Her mouth curved into a smile as she pushed herself up onto her toes to kiss him. He returned the kiss, the press of his lips against hers achingly familiar, like coming home. Less familiar was the scratch of stubble; after years of having a beard, she’d forgotten what it was like to kiss Kanan without one.

They were interrupted by the familiar scream of twin ion engines approaching.

"Sabine!" Kanan shouted frantically into the comm. "Where are you? The bomber’s here!"

Her response was drowned out by the TIE bomber.

It swept overhead, blotting out the light from both moons. Hera wrapped her arms tightly around Kanan’s torso. Throughout her capture and subsequent torture she’d never once lost faith that he would come and rescue her, but now, faced with their current situation, that hope finally flickered. Their last moments were upon them.

At least they were together.

The bomber passed, the whine of the engines deepening as it retreated, but the shadow remained. Hera looked up and saw, suspended in the air above them, the unmistakable silhouette of a baradium missile.

She relaxed her grip on Kanan and realised he had thrust his arms out towards the sky, eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration. He’d caught the missile! Her brave, brilliant Jedi.

"Kanan?" she asked tentatively. "Can you... put that down? We've got to get off this roof before they make another pass."

"I'm holding the proton charge detonator," he said through gritted teeth. She felt her stomach drop through her feet; he couldn’t let go without activating the missile. The whole station would go up with it. "Can’t jump without letting go. Or sending it up to the kids. But I can still throw you."

"But – what about you?" She knew the answer even as she asked, but her brain was refusing to accept it.

His sightless eyes locked on to her face. His expression was an unreadable mask. "I'm not making it out of this one."

No.

No, no no.

She was shaking her head, even though he couldn’t see it. "I’m not leaving without you."

"Yes, you are," he insisted. "And you’re going to be okay. Don’t ask me how I know this, but you’re going to move on, and you will be happy again. I’m certain of it. And that’s all I ever wanted."

"Kanan–"

The comm beeped again.

"We’re in position! Kanan, now!"

Sabine’s words had barely sunk in when she felt herself gripped by an unseen hand, and then she was flying through the air. She caught a glimpse of the whole station below her – the square roof framing the round hole that in turn framed gleaming stacks of construction material, the bomb hovering off-center and ruining the symmetry – before her vision went dark.

She felt the wind from the TIE bomber as it raced below her at the same time as a second invisible force grabbed her. It twisted her in midair, and now she was rushing towards an Imperial patrol transport. A single figure in a fighter pilot’s uniform stood in the troop bay with arms outstretched.

By the time Ezra had pulled her into the transport beside him and she was able to turn back around, the fuel station was an expanding ball of fire.

Kanan was gone.

---

Chapter 2 (AO3) ->

#kanera #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #star wars: rebels #star wars #may the fourth be with you #maythe4thbewithyou #jedi night #jedi night fix it #fic #really hope i've got the scheduling right here #in theory the reveal should have happened 5 minutes ago #i wasn't going to stay up til 1am to post but i have been unbelievably excited to share this for the last 2 weeks #pretchwritta

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ynscrazylife · 4 years ago

Text

Memories Colliding

Part 2 of “The Real You”

Summary: It’s been a couple weeks since Y/N had reunited with her boyfriends, Steve and Bucky, after being captured and impersonated by Skrulls. One day, she has a flashback to her time with the Skrulls, and her boyfriends help her through it.

I will probably write a part 3 where they actually talk about the Skrulls and what happened! Lemme know if you do want it.

Note: I didn’t want to write Y/N having a panic attack because I don’t have experience with that. This is more on the lines of just getting really anxious (I have diagnosed anxiety) and a lack of sleep which leads to Y/N passing out. What I’ve written for her before she passes out is similar to what I felt when I almost passed out.

Why oh why did Tony Stark have to call her that Saturday morning? Both her boyfriends were at work and Y/N had been taking some time off from superhero’ing, since getting back after being in the Skrulls’ captivity took a toll on her. So when she heard her phone ringing and saw Iron Man on the Caller ID, she thought he was just calling her up to chat.

That didn’t happen.

“Hey, Tony,” Y/N said, pressing her phone against her ear.

“Hi. Look, I’m sorry to do this, but . . . Osborn wants us to inspect the spaceship we found you in,” he said, cutting straight to the point.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, confused. What did that have to do with her? “Okay . . .” She said, trailing off.

Tony sighed. “We need you to come with us,” he said.

Y/N stilled. “Why?” She asked, not trusting herself to speak anymore in fear that she’d start to get more anxious and upset. She did not want to go back to that damned place.

“We need to look over it just to collect evidence, to verify some of the things the Skrulls said in Osborn’s interrogation, and we all around need to gather more information on what happened to move forward. It would really help if we had someone who was there to verify some of those things,” Tony said.

Y/N went silent, thinking. She really did not want to do this, but she knew would have to confront what happened sooner or later and maybe . . . This would give her some closure.

“Okay,” she said, not sure if she could utter more than one word.

“I’ll pick you up in ten,” Tony said before hanging up.

While in the car, Y/N pulled out her phone. She texted in her and her boyfriends’ groupchat ‘Helping Tony out with something. Might not be home when you get there. Love u’ and tucked her phone back into her pocket.

A couple minutes later, they had arrived. Y/N took a deep breath, calming some of nerves. She gave Tony a small smile and got out of the car. Both of them and a couple of agents walked a bit until they came upon one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s old warehouses, where half of the spaceship was being kept (yep, half. The spaceship was too big and they had to take it apart while not destroying anything).

Tony opened up the warehouse and just seeing the front of the spaceship was enough to stop Y/N in her tracks. She swallowed, pushing away the memories of when some Skrulls had forced her onto the spaceship. She had been stumbling, barely able to walk on her own, and the Skrulls were practically dragging her inside. She remembered that she was a little dizzy, and she could just make out the front of the spaceship.

Hearing Tony directing the other agents, Y/N snapped back to reality and followed him towards the ship itself. Tony opened up one of the doors and they stepped inside.

The moment she did, however, all the memories came crashing down. She remembered beimg thrown inside and her walls and legs being restrained. She remembered seeing the distraught and scared faces of her friends. She remembered not knowing where she was or even what day it was. She remembered loosing count. She remembered sobbing. She remembered when the door finally opened . . . She remembered everything.

Y/N was gasping for breath, becoming overwhelmed. She thought she’d be able to see this place, to look at this place, but now she had to get out. Because once she started remembering the spaceship, she remembered what happened before the spaceship. Getting captured, being in the Skrulls’ captivity, and more.

The superhero could hear that someone - Tony? - was talking, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Y/N hadn’t gotten much sleep last night and had been planning to rest today. So the exhaustion combined with this was starting to make her feel dizzy. She went to turn around and leave but she only stumbled back into the wall.

Y/N didn’t know what was happening. She didn’t know what she was doing. Her hands grasped at the wall desperately and she blurring saw Tony come into her line of vision. However, she immediately got a flashback to that Skrull who had kidnapped her, the Skrull who had backed her into a wall and loomed over her just before he kidnapped her.

And even though she knew it was Tony, she just wanted to get away, she wanted to be alone. However she couldn’t go anywhere because she was up against a wall, so she gave in, and she passed out. (A/N: Like I mentioned in my note, I’m writing this from my experience of what happened when I almost passed out. At the time I was trying to get away from people because I felt like I was being crowded).

——————————————

When Tony heard her gasping breath, he immediately regretted bringing her here. He turned towards her and saw her stumbling back until she hit the wall.

“Y/N, you okay?” He asked cautiously, taking a step toward her. Her hands slapped the wall frantically. “Y/N?”

He cursed when he saw her eyes roll into the back of her head and her body drop. Her knees hit the floor and before her face could do, Tony caught her by the arms and carefully laid her down so she was on her side, and pushed her into her back.

He called for the Agents and two of them came running. “One of you get her to the helicarrier and the other round up the other Agents. This investigation is ending earlier. I’ll be right behind you,” he instructed, and watched as one of the Agents picked Y/N up bridal styal and they both left.

Once they did, Tony got out his phone and called Steve.

“Hey, Stark. Y/N texted me that she was with you?” He said.

“Yeah. Where are you and Bucky?” He asked, beginning his walk to the Helicarrier.

“I just finished a meeting with Nat and Barton. Bucky is somewhere else in the Avengers tower,” Steve answered.

“Do you know if Banner is around?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, I think. Why?” Steve said.

Tony sighed. “Y/N got really anxious when she saw the spaceship. She passed out,” he said, speeding up his pace.

“What? She passed out? What are you talking about - the spaceship?” Steve asked, panicking.

“I needed Y/N to come with me to investigate part of the spaceship I found her, Drew, Storm, etc in. She started to get really anxious when we stepped inside and then she fainted. I caught her before her head hit the ground and we’re gonna take her back to the Avengers tower - tell Bruce to be ready to make sure she’s okay,” Tony answered. He boarded the Helicarrier.

“I swear to god, Stark, she better be okay,” Steve said, and before Tony could respond, he hung up.

——————————————

The moment Steve had been told that his girlfriend had fainted, he went into overprotective, worry mode. It only got worse when Tony told Steve that he brought her to the plane that she had been trapped in for who knows how long. He didn’t know what to think, he didn’t know what to feel. All he knew was that he was at angry at Tony Stark for even bringing Y/N there in the first place, he was worried for Y/N and she just had to be okay, and he had to find Bucky and tell him what the hell happened.

He practically ran around the halls, trying to locate Bucky. He didn’t even think to text him or call him. Thankfully, he finally found Bucky chatting with Sam Wilson.

“Bucky,” Steve said, and when Bucky saw his boyfriend’s panicked face, he immediately left Sam and went to the solider.

“What is it?” Bucky asked.

Steve forced himself to take a breath. “Tony took Y/N to that damned spaceship so she could help him investigate something - but she got really anxious when she entered and she passed out!” He said.

Bucky’s jaw dropped as he was horrified. Steve continued. “We need to get to Banner - Tony’s taking her back here.”

Bucky nodded, at a lost for words. He, too, was angry at Stark and concerned for their girl. The two soldiers ran to Bruce’s lab and just as they had finished explaining what was happening, the door had opened and Tony and an Agent carrying Y/N’s unconscious form entered.

“Oh my god,” Bucky breathed out as Steve leapt forward, taking his girlfriend from the Agent’s arms and putting her on a medical table.

“All of you - out,” Bruce instructed. Steve and Bucky stared at the Hulk as the Agent and Tony left, not budging. “I can’t check her out medicinally with you two breathing down my neck - OUT.”

Finally, they relented, and they both left. However, as soon as the door closed, Bucky had shoved Tony against the wall. Steve watched, knowing that Tony didn’t mean to do this, but he also did take her to the spaceship . . .

“What the hell bappened? Why is my girl unconscious?” Bucky demanded.

Tony glanced at him and then at Steve. Steve finally put a hand on Bucky’s arm and he released the superhero.

Tony said, looking at both men. “I walked in, she followed behind me, and then I heard her gasping for breath. I tried to talk to her but it seemed like she was trying to get away - though she only succeeded in stumbling back into the wall. I took a step towards her and she was frantically slapping at the wall with her hands, as if she was trying to back away even further, and then her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her knees hit the ground and I caught her by the arms and lowered her to the ground,” Tony recalled.

Steve and Bucky stood there, taking the information in. They wanted nothing more than to burst into Bruce’s lab and hold their girl, but she needed Bruce right now.

“Buck,” Steve said, turning to the brunette. “Tony didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Bucky nodded, although he didn’t look completely convinced.

“Guys,” Tony added. “The expression on her face . . . She looked like what she did when I first came into that spaceship. I think she might have recalled what happened there and thought she was back there - that’s why she tried to get away from me.”

They were processing what he said when the door opened, and Bruce stood. Steve and Bucky looked at him desperately, needing to hear that Y/N was okay.

“She’ll need rest. Lack of sleep contributed to her passing out. She’s awake now - I’ll let you to talk to her but afterwards I want her to sleep,” Bruce said.

They both nodded and the doctor let them inside. When they saw Bruce had moved Y/N to one of the spare beds, and how defeated she looked, they rushed to her side.

Both men sat with her on her bed, as Y/N had her legs draped over Bucky’s and her head resting on Steve’s chest. She held their hands.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Steve said.

“Me, too,” Bucky agreed.

Y/N sighed. “I just remembered . . . Everything. Everything I had tried to block out. All that time in the ship and what the Skrulls did . . . The cell I was locked in . . . I’m so sorry. Please, don’t blame Tony,” she said softly.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, love. We don’t blame Tony. We don’t blame you,” Bucky said.

Steve nodded and kissed her forehead.

That’s when Bruce came over and before anyone knew what was happening, he injected Y/N with a sedative. Bucky and Steve were slightly alarmed, but they watched Y/N’s eyes close and her rest against them both.

The men glared at Bruce for so easily putting her to sleep without warning. However Bruce merely smiled and said, “She needs sleep.”

82 notes · View notes

milstrim · 4 years ago

Text

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 5: Ironic

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

"Woah."

"I know, right," Peter said, unzipping the inside of the suit and moving to plug it into Ned's computer. His friend continued to gape at it, fingers trailing over the fabric reverently.

"I can't believe Iron Man made this," he whispered. "I get to sit here. And touch a superhero suit. That Tony Stark made. For my best friend. This is the greatest day of my life."

"You've said that a lot recently," Peter pointed out, pulling up the schematics of the suit on Ned's computer, who turned to look at him in confusion.

"What are you doing? Are you supposed to be messing with it?"

"I'm not messing with it. I'm just going through Karen's code real quickly."

"Karen?"

"The AI," he explained. "I just want to make sure she's not gonna snitch on me."

"Snitch on you for what?"

"Uhhh, so you know those alien weapons I've been talking about?"

Ned nodded. "Yeah?"

"I'm gonna take that down, and I don't really need Karen telling Mr. Stark," he mumbled the last part nervously. Ned stared at him.

"Why don't we want Karen telling Mr. Stark again? I mean, he gave you the suit, he must think you're capable."

Peter paused, puffing up his cheeks as he took in an awkward breath, staring at the protocols showing up on the computer. He'd already spotted three to tell Mr. Stark if he was in trouble, so he knew it was the opposite of Ned's assumption.

"Actuallyyyy..." He took a deep breath. "You can't tell anyone this." Ned nodded, but he continued to press. "I mean it. Nobody. Not a soul."

"I won't, I won't! I promise, Peter. Not. A. Soul."

"Mr. Stark's my soulmate."

Ned's head whipped around to stare at Peter's shadow, his mouth falling open.

"Oh, my God... Oh, my God! He's your soulmate!!?" Peter nodded, preparing himself for Ned's excited ramblings, but he couldn't really hide the smile on tugging at his lips either, however faint it was. "This is insane! Your life is so fucking insane I think I'm going to lose it!! Have you talked to him? Wait--yeah you have! How many times have you talked to him? Have you done, I don't know, 'soulmate things?'"

"Ned, what?"

Ned threw his hands up. "I don't know, I haven't met my soulmate. I'm trying my best, Peter!"

Peter laughed, shrugging.

"I don't really know what 'soulmate things' are, but we had dinner, and he showed me some stuff in his lab."

"Oh, my God...you've been in his lab. You know you have to show me one day."

"Definitely. I'll figure it out later, just, let us get more used to each other? Maybe? Let me impress him at least, which is why I'm trying to keep Karen from snitching on me."

"Sure. Here," Ned agreed, sitting beside him on the bed and gesturing for the computer. Peter passed it over to him wordlessly. "I'll work on the protocols, you do detective work or something."

"Thanks, dude."

"By the way, and answer honestly, is that Tony Stark's hoodie?"

Peter glanced down at the red hoodie that Mr. Stark had given him, 'MIT' emblazoned on the sleeves while the faded logo sat on the front of the piece of clothing. He smiled at Ned. "Yep."

"This is so cool," his friend melted.

With an amused eyeroll, Peter pulled out his phone, clearing his throat and nervously calling, "Karen?"

The phone lit up. "Yes, Peter?"

"Listen, ah, I was wondering if you could help me. I'm trying to figure out who these guys under the bridge were a few nights ago, but I mean, I can only kind of remember part of a license plate."

"Can you tell me where you were?" Peter rattled off Liz's neighborhood. Karen was silent for a little bit before piping up again. "Was there a white van involved?"

Peter perked up. "Yes! Exactly!"

A hologram popped up from Peter's phone. Ned stopped to stare at it as they both let out an identical, "Whoa..."

Peter watched intently from the security camera as the van rolled up under the bridge to where the buyer had been waiting. Karen highlighted the faces for him.

"Okay. The two on the right, who are they?" he asked.

"Searching law enforcement databases," Karen said, pausing before answering. "No records found for two of the individuals."

"Nothing?"

"One individual identified." The recording was replaced by a mugshot. "Aaron Davis, age thirty-three. He has a criminal record and an address here in Queens."

Peter and Ned glanced at each other. Ned said, "The protocols are disabled."

"Let's pay him a visit."

---

"So, what's this surprise you've been talking about?"

Tony's head shot up at the sound of his girlfriend's voice. He smiled, turning from where he'd been forcing some kitchen tools into a box to take in the woman as she stepped off of the elevator. She very much looked like she'd just come out of a meeting in sharp business slacks and an exhausted expression.

"Hey, Pep. How was...London?"

"Tokyo," she corrected, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "It was tiring. How's the packing?"

"Eh, boring," he said, kicking the box lightly and shoving his hands in his pockets. "So, anyway, I think that we should reconsider moving to the compound permanently."

"Tony, we just finished all the paperwork for the tower! And most floors have been packed by now, we can't just--"

"Not the tower. Just for us. Ever thought about a nice high-rise in Queens?"

Pepper stared at him, crossing her arms. "Queens? Since when have you ever cared about Queens?"

"Well, that's the surprise."

"The surprise is that you want to move to Queens?"

"No," Tony corrected, unable to stop his bright grin. "The surprise is that my soulmate lives in Queens."

It took a couple of seconds for that to register to Pepper. When it did, her eyebrows raised and she let out a smiled gasp. "You found him?"

Tony nodded. "Yep, just swinging around New York like a maniac."

"Swinging?"

"He's Spider-Man. Well, 'man's' a strong word. Here." He waved his hand, pulling up a screen that displayed Peter's yearbook photo. Pepper cooed at him. "Peter Parker. Top of his class at Midtown High by day, overly excited vigilante by night."

"He doesn't look like he could hurt a fly, never mind stop robberies. How'd he get his powers?"

"Forgot to ask, actually. He wasn't super excited to meet me at first, actually."

Pepper snorted. "Good. I'm glad he doesn't feed your ego."

"Hey! This is serious," he pouted.

"Uhuh." Pepper gave him another kiss on the cheek. "How'd you meet him?"

"Mugging. I bought him a hot chocolate."

"Hmm. I expected something stranger given your track record."

"He ran away."

"There it is," she said. "It's all good now, though?"

"Yeah..."

"Tony?"

He hesitated. "Peter lives at a group home, and I gotta say, not super fond of his foster father."

"Is he... Does he hurt Peter?" Pepper asked. He shrugged.

"Possibly. I gave Peter some money and the guy took it. Spent hundreds of dollars on liquor. And the kid's really thin. Jumpy, too. But there's nothing to prove right now."

"I'm surprised I didn't have our lawyer calling me to say you broke into a foster home and kidnapped a kid."

Tony shrugged, giving her a soft smile. "I don't need to break down the door to say hi to Peter. Besides, kid's wary, gets nervous easily. I don't want to scare him off by being too invasive about his home."

"Good on you for learning some boundaries, Tony," she congratulated before turning just a little more serious as she glanced at Peter's picture again. "You're sure he's alright?"

"No. But he's got a new superhero suit, a phone with me, Friday, and his own AI on speed dial, an unlimited credit card, and a badge to get into the tower. He's got resources if he needs them."

"Then let's just hope he doesn't need them."

---

Peter waited until the next day to find and interrogate Aaron Davis, more at Ned's insistence that they study for their Spanish quiz and to let his friend geek out over the suit than anything else. He'd stayed at his friend's house for as long as humanly possible, readily accepting whatever snack that Ned had pushed his way and going over notes that Karen gave him about Davis. It wasn't until the alarm he'd had Karen set that it was 9:40 went off did he leave.

Peter didn't like to impose on his friend so much, but Ned hadn't seemed to mind with the new addition of a supersuit and Mr. Stark being his soulmate, and the teenager couldn't help the way he was still avoiding Mr. Fowler like the plague. After leaving Mr. Stark's on Sunday and failing to stop a simple burglary, he'd hurried back to the group home, helping Eric with his homework and then cooping himself up in his room. He'd managed to avoid him the entire night and the next morning due to the man being passed out drunk in his room. Though he was still wracked with guilt at the fact that his foster father had stolen Mr. Stark's money on alcohol, he had to admit that it was at least useful.

Bidding goodnight to his friend, Peter slipped out of the apartment and hurried down onto the street where he joined the late night crowd as he made his way back to the group home. He popped his earbuds in and chose a song on his phone (that had an unlimited choice for him now, but he just stuck with his familiar Spotify playlists) as he rushed back to a place that he wished he could avoid for longer. Unfortunately, the curfew was final, so he made it back to the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys with five minutes to spare.

He stopped in front of the door as his hairs rose. Surprisingly, they didn't direct him towards the house, instead calling him to turn around. Peter glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of a man sitting at an apartment's steps a few buildings down. It was too dark to see his face, especially with the hat he wore pulled down low, but he looked just a little familiar. More than a little nervous, the teenager shook it off and stepped inside.

Mr. Fowler was waiting for him at the dining table. Peter paused, taking out his earbuds as Mr. Fowler turned to stare at him, chewing on a slice of pizza. For some reason, despite living in New York, the man was obsessed with frozen pizza. It was practically criminal, but Peter excused it as mind games since all the kids weren't allowed to eat any of it. Only a sociopath would eat exclusively frozen pizza in Queens.

"Pity. I was hoping you'd be late," Mr. Fowler frowned at Peter as he shuffled to a hesitant stop by the stairs. "Got another card for me?"

"No," Peter lied stiffly.

"What? No sugar daddy today?"

He knew better than to argue. "I hung out with Ned."

Mr. Fowler stared at him, but the travel agent was nothing if not a man of his word. Peter had been on time, so he waved the teenager on. Resisting the urge to scramble into the safety of his room, he whisked up the steep stairs and into the dark bedroom only lit by the lamp in the corner.

Tim was already asleep, but Jeremiah was sat on his bed going over what looked like a book report. The teenager paid Peter no mind as he dropped his bag onto the ground beside his bed and changed into a pajama shirt. He kept the hoodie on that Mr. Stark had given despite the warmth of the night as he slipped under his covers, bundling up in the reassuring fabric.

Peter didn't fall asleep for a while, grateful for the light provided by the lamp as he stared at the outline of Mr. Stark's shadow as though it were the only thing in the world. It might as well be for all he cared. Blocking out Mr. Fowler was quickly becoming a new necessity that was increasingly hard to do with the way his senses focused in on every little thing.

The entire house smelled of the man's alcohol, musty and strong and littered with the memories of a dark closet where even his shadow hadn't been able to comfort him. But the hoodie carried the fading scent of Mr. Stark that washed away his tired uneasiness, at least for the time being, and the shadow kept him preoccupied with one comforting thought. Out there, just across a bridge, was an adult who cared.

---

When Peter woke up, he felt off. He wasn't quite sure how to explain it, just that he knew the day was going to go wrong before it started. He wanted to curl up deeper into the hoodie that wrapped around him like a cocoon, but forced himself to push the covers off of himself and plant hit feet on the cold morning floor.

Jeremiah's bed was already empty, so Peter assumed that he'd already eaten and left with Eric, whose school started much earlier than everyone else's. Tim was still asleep, so Peter put on a pair of pants, grabbed his bag, and woke the kid up before knocking on the door of the other kids' room. He then headed downstairs and began putting together bowls of cereal for the kids that would be stumbling downstairs in a few minutes.

Mr. Fowler was in the kitchen, leaving the teenager to shuffle around him awkwardly as the man gave him a suspicious glare that he tried desperately to ignore. He left the kitchen as quickly as possible, placing the bowls down in the kids' usual spots and then taking up his own place to quickly scarf down a bowl of tasteless cereal. By the time he was finished, all the other kids had already stumbled downstairs and begun to eat.

Peter went along preparing their bags and then taking their bowls to the sink once they were done. He had just put the last dish in the dishwasher when the other boys at Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys walked out the door, leaving him alone with Mr. Fowler. The man was staring at him with the same suspicious glare as he closed the pantry and then made to grab his backpack.

"Wait just a moment, Peter," Mr. Fowler said. Peter paused immediately, holding back a shiver at the danger in his tone.

"Sir?"

"There was a pack of granola bars missing from the pantry last night." The man glared at him, clearly waiting for a reaction, but Peter just stared at him, hesitant. Which kid had taken the bars? He hadn't seen anything off in their bags, unless Mr. Fowler had just miscounted, though that didn't happen often. "Anything to say to that, Peter?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, sir. I didn't take them."

"You didn't? I find that very hard to believe. How close are you to ending your grounding?"

"Three days, Mr. Fowler."

He tutted, standing up from his chair and stepping over to Peter. The teenager couldn't stop the way he froze, tensing up and squaring his shoulders as a large, meaty hand clamped down on one. Fingers curled over the thick fabric of his hoodie, pricking at his skin.

"Well, it would be a pity if it was extended longer. You're sure you didn't take anything?"

"Nothing, sir." The hand flashed to his hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling his head down and to the side with a pained grunt. Peter forced his breaths to steady even as tears pricked at his eyes. "I didn't take anything, Mr. Fowler, I promise!"

"Then you've wasted my time, son. Do you know what makes up for lost time?"

"Wha-what? Sir."

"A bit of hard cash." Peter noticed the way the man's hand trembled. "That card was nice for the weekend, but I'm afraid I'm running a little low. Got anything else for me?"

His thoughts flashed to the newly activated card sitting in his wallet, tucked safely in his hoodie pocket. He could just give it up and walk away. Mr. Fowler would be happy and Peter could go to school, safe and sound.

Steely eyes met Mr. Fowler's impossibly strained ones. "No. I don't have any other money."

The fist let go of his hair, throwing him back. Peter caught himself in a stumble as Mr. Fowler looked at him in disgust.

"Fine," the man rasped. "Extend your grounding until next week, then. Now get to school before I'm forced to call you in an excuse."

Peter mumbled out a grated, "Yes, sir," before stumbling out the door. Instead of making his way to school, he stumbled into the nearest alleyway. The teenager sucked in a deep breath, cursing himself for the tears biting at his eyes and the panic choking his throat. He was fine. Nothing had happened. He was completely fine. It wasn't like the extension of his grounding even mattered, Peter had money to buy food when he needed it. Everything. Was. Fine.

But Peter wasn't fine. He was choking on air and stumbling on panic as he slid down a grimy alleyway wall, unable to even begin to calm down. He didn't know why he was even freaking out so bad, Mr. Fowler had only pulled his hair, but the revival of the strong smell of liquor and the closeness of the man's face to his was horribly haunting.

Peter pulled at his hair as he finally managed to wheeze in a breath, staring desperately at the shadow in front of him. Mr. Stark's fluffy hair and tall shoulders seemed to stare back at him, almost reassuring. The teenager shoved his nose into the collar of his cardinal hoodie, taking in a deep breath to drown out Mr. Fowler.

It calmed him slightly.

But not quite enough.

With chattering teeth, Peter pulled his bag off of his shoulder and tore the suit out of it. With no hesitation, he took off his clothes and stepped into the suit. Karen greeted him instantly.

"Good morning, Peter. Shouldn't you be heading to school?"

"Uh, no, no. Not today, Karen. That man, Aaron Davis? Where is he right now?"

A path was highlighted on his screen.

---

"Remember me?"

Peter's voice was almost hilariously unnatural, but the man at the car stumbled back, so he guessed it worked. He thundered forward to where Aaron Davis was trying to stumble away from his car but was pulled back by the web sticking to the open hood.

"Uh, hey..."

"I need information. You're gonna give it to me now," Peter demanded half-heartedly, the enhanced interrogation mode making his voice much angrier. Maybe it was better than he thought.

"All right, chill," Davis placated.

"Come on!"

Davis paused, staring at him in confusion. Peter tried not to shuffle on his feet. "What happened to your voice?"

Crap.

"What do you mean, what happened to my voice?"

"I heard you by the bridge. I know what a girl sound like," Davis deadpanned.

"I'm not a girl! I'm a boy," Peter protested, quickly moving to correct himself. "I mean, I'm a--I'm a man."

"I don't care what you are, a boy, a girl..." the man trailed off with a shrug, continuing to load his car with groceries.

"I'm not a girl! I'm a man," he protested again. "Come on, man. Look, who is selling these weapons? I need to know. Give me names--or else."

Davis slammed the trunk shut and Peter flinched back on instinct. The man flashed him a teasing smile, shaking his head.

"You ain't ever done this before, huh?"

"Deactivate interrogation mode," Peter said sullenly. Davis huffed in amusement, shaking his head again. "Look, man, these guys are selling weapons that are crazy dangerous. They can't just be out on the streets. Look, if one of them can just cut Delmar's bodega in half..."

Davis, not paying attention in the slightest, looked up, regarding him in slight interest. "You know Delmar's?"

"Yeah, best sandwich in Queens," he shrugged.

"Sub Haven's pretty good."

"It's too much bread."

"I like bread."

"Come on, man, please," the teenager begged one last time. Davis stared at him, unresponsive, so with a dramatic throw of his hands, Peter began to walk away. "Stupid interrogation mode. Karen, don't ever do that again."

"The other night," Aaron started. Peter turned around to look at him. "You told that dude, "if you shoot somebody, shoot me." It's pretty ballsy. I don't want those weapons in this neighborhood. I got a nephew who live here.

Tentatively, Peter stepped back over, catching sight of the man's shadow. It was smaller, clearly a boy with a tall afro.

"Who are these guys? What can you tell me about the guy with the wings?"

"Other than he's a psychopath dressed like a demon, nothing. I don't know who he is or where he is." Peter sighed, leaning his head on the car roof. He was never going to prove to Mr. Stark he was worthy of being his soulmate when he couldn't even find the vulture guy. Aaron offered, "I do know where he's gonna be."

Peter perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah, this crazy dude I used to work with, he's supposed to be doing a deal with him."

"Yes!" Peter exclaimed, beginning to step away in giddiness. "Yes. Thank--"

"Hey, hey, hey," Aaron called. Peter stopped. "I didn't tell you where. You don't have a location."

Peter flushed bright red, making his way back to the car in embarrassment. "Right, of course. Yeah, my bad. Silly. Just...Yeah. Where is it?"

"Can I give you some advice?" Peter hummed. "You got to get better at this part of the job."

"I don't understand. I'm intimidating."

He crossed his arms, but Aaron only shook his head again.

"Staten Island ferry, eleven."

"Oh, that's soon," Peter realized. He began to walk away, pointing a finger at where the man's hand was webbed. "Hey, that's gonna dissolve in two hours."

"No, no, no, no. Come fix this."

"Two hours. You deserve that."

"I got ice cream in here."

"You deserve that. You're a criminal! Bye, Mr. Criminal!!"

---

Tony clapped his hands together in an attempt to dust them off as he stared around the packaged remains of his lab. Scribbled formulas and problems had been wiped clean from boards, tables folded and disassembled, and prototypes all packed into boxes ready to be loaded onto the plane in a few days time. Most of what was left in his workplace was personal items and two encased Iron Man armors.

"How we looking on time, Fri?" he asked, grabbing his mug from where he'd placed it on the counter earlier and taking a sip.

"Packing for the move to the compound is on schedule, boss," the AI responded.

"Great," he said, smacking his lips at the comforting bitterness of his coffee, "How's the search for a Queens apartment going?"

"I have several different listings placed into the Itsy Bitsy Spider folder for you to look at."

"Great. Forward them to Pepper."

"Of course, sir."

Satisfied with the prospective of flipping through apartment listings closer to Peter in the evening, he glanced down at his shadow, frowning at the lack of fluffy hair there. It was Tuesday, wasn't it? He checked his watch for the time. Barely eleven. He was pretty sure Peter should be in school by now.

"Friday, is the spider-suit active?"

"Yes, sir."

He frowned harder. "Activate the Baby Monitor Protocol, I want to see what's going on."

"That protocol has been disabled, sir."

"What?"

The AI was silent for a moment before responding, "It has been disabled, along with many others. The only way to reinstate them would be manually."

Tony glanced down at his shadow again. Surely the kid wasn't messing with the suit? And especially not the protocols to keep him safe? And he'd skipped school, too.

"Call Peter."

---

Peter peered over the top of the ferry roof at the men gathering below, who practically screamed shady. He kept an eye on Dronie's recording, the small robot keeping an eye on the other two guys up on the ferry, while Karen highlighted the men below.

"Who’s the guy on the left?" he asked, his spine shivering as he looked at the man.

"Mac Gargan. Extensive criminal record, including homicide. Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark?"

"What? No. I've got this, Karen."

One of the men that Peter had seen at the bridge approached Gargan. Peter could easily pick up his muttered. "White pickup truck."

Gargan nodded at one of his crones, who immediately began walking into the inside of the ferry holding the cars.

"Dronie," Peter whispered. "Scan the ship for a white pickup truck."

He watched the footage apprehensively as Dronie flew farther outside the ferry, x-raying the boat to pick out the truck inside. The robot then zipped over to it, beginning to scan the contents covered in the trunk but flying away and back to Peter as a man stepped out the front. His leg bounced nervously as the robot settled back in his chest, his heart beating erratically.

"Oh, this is too perfect," Peter said. "I got the weapons, buyers, and sellers all in one place."

"Incoming call from Tony Stark."

"No, no, no. No, no, don’t answer."

Despite his protests, the screen of his suit was swept away as Mr. Stark filled his screen. Peter tried not to grimace, keeping a careful eye on the men below even as the billionaire began to speak.

"Mr. Parker. Got a sec?" Mr. Stark greeted with a tight smile.

"Uh, I’m actually at school," Peter lied, ignoring Karen's correction in his ear. "I gotta get back to class, Mr. Stark, so--"

"What class?"

"Uhh--" Shit, what did he have at eleven? "Alge--"

The ferry's horn blared excruciatingly loudly. Peter resisted the urge to grimace, trying to keep an eye on the criminals below still.

"Band. I'm at, uh, band practice."

Mr. Stark stared at him, unimpressed. "That's...odd. You told me you quit band when you started swinging around as Spider-Man."

"I gotta go. Uh, end call."

"Hey," Mr. Stark protested, but the screen clicked close, allowing Peter to clearly see the people below once more. He flicked out a wrist, snapping a web onto a pair of keys being handed over.

"I’ll take those! Yoink!" He flipped, snatching the keys and webbing them to the ceiling. "Hey, guys. The illegal-weapons-deal-ferry was at 10:30. You missed it."

He webbed away the weapons from two guys quickly and threw them into the water. With a shiver up his spine, he ducked out of the way of the approaching man wearing the shocking gauntlet. The man's weaponized arm got stuck in the net on the ferry.

While he was distracted with the gauntlet guy, the other two he'd disarmed had scrambled to their feet, egging for a get away. Peter turned lackadaisically, webbing them

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast." He threw the two to the ground. "Are you guys okay? My bad. That was a little hard. I gotta say the other guy was way better with that thing. I’m honestly, I’m, I’m shocked."

This was going super well.

---

Peter let out a short scream of pain, suspended between the two crumbling halves of the ferry. His arms burned as he gripped at the webs fruitlessly, but he refused to let go. He could hear their heartbeats, fast and afraid and exactly like his own. The teenager panted, straining harder than he ever had before only to continue to fail. The ferry wasn't coming back together, his webs hadn't done anything, and the entire ship was going to fall apart.

And yet he refused to let go, even as he felt his arms tear painfully. He cracked his eyes open, searching desperately for his shadow. It was currently lost in the waves crashing underneath as cars piled into the rushing water. There was a moment, so quick he almost missed it, where a car hood stayed still long enough just for him to make out the shadow.

Of an Iron Man armor.

There was a metal groaning and an easing on his shoulders. Peter looked away from his shadow.

"What the hell?" With the ferry putting itself together, the teenager let himself drop onto the ferry floor, arm raised in fearful apprehension as the sound of metal colliding echoed around the entire boat. "What the hell..."

Mr. Stark in the Iron Man armor rose into view at the windows. Despite the fact that he was wearing a mask, it was easy to tell he looked angry. Or, hopefully, he was reading too much into it and the suit was just mean looking.

"Hi, Spider-Man. Band practice, was it?"

Nope. He sounded mad too. Peter had to force down a shiver, ignoring the clapping people and swinging to the cargo hold as Mr. Stark flew under it, beginning to piece the ship back together. He followed anxiously on the ceiling, turmoil sitting heavy in his stomach as he followed the man.

"Uh, Mr. Stark?" he called nervously. He continued to skitter after the man as he flew up to the ferry's top, trying to catch the man's attention even as he continued to ignore the teenager. "Hey, Mr. Stark. Could I do anything? What do you want me to do?"

"I think you’ve done enough."

Peter couldn't even bear to look at his shadow.

---

"So that’s it, you’re just gonna run?" Adrian asked as Schultz approached with his overflowing duffle bag.

"Feds were waiting for us. Now we’re on Iron Man’s radar? Yeah, I’m running. You should, too."

"You know I can’t do that," Toomes said, glancing down at the shadow of his wife.

"So now what?" Schultz shrugged. Adrian rubbed at his chin.

"Mason, can you get that high-altitude seal thing up and running in time?"

"Seriously?" the engineer asked, comically giddy despite how hilariously screwed they all were. "Yes. You will not regret this."

Adrian turned back to Schultz. "You in?"

The man glanced down on the floor, contemplative. "If we get caught, we're dead. And we have days before that plane takes off. We'll be caught before then. Stark will get us, you know that."

"So we take care of Stark."

"Take care of Stark? You're crazy. How the hell are we gonna to kill Iron Man?"

Adrian thought for a moment, thoughts creeping back to the night over the lake; a defensive boy and an over-eager man and matching shadows. Peter Parker, as had been reported by one of his men following the kid. He even went to Liz's school, on her academic team and everything. He hurt a little to do this, but nothing was more important than family.

"We don't need to kill Stark," Adrian responded. "We just need to insure his compliance."

---

Tony finally spotted the kid sitting on the edge of the building, his legs thrown over the side, his mask torn off his face as he stared down at the water. The bulky outline of the Iron Man armor extended behind him, an imposing figure compared to the hunched and shivering kid. The sound of sirens and helicopters rang in the distance, only feeding fuel to the fire that was his anger. It had been two days since he'd given Peter the suit and he'd already hacked it, lied to him, and endangered the lives of more than a hundred people. He'd taken Tony's tech and ran with it, doing what the man had warned the teenager not to do, and almost gotten himself killed too.

It terrified him just as much as it infuriated him.

"Previously on Peter Screws the Pooch," Tony started, hovering next to Peter's spot on the building. "I tell you to stay away from this. Instead, you hacked a multimillion-dollar suit so you could sneak around behind my back doing the one thing I told you not to do."

"Is everyone okay?" Peter rasped.

"No thanks to you."

He clunked down on the ground, but Peter barely even looked at him, just grasping the mask in his fingers tighter. After a tense moment, the kid turned to glare at him, a sour look on his face.

"What do you care?"

The question almost shocked Tony from his anger, but the fury managed to cling on as the suit opened, allowing for him to step out. There was a defensive flicker on Peter's face, washed away as quickly as it came, at the stiff anger glued to his figure.

"What do I care?" he echoed incredulously. "Who the hell gave you the suit that you're wearing right now? The one that you used to go fight people you weren't ready to fight. Peter, you're not prepared for this--"

"I didn't see you doing anything."

"Who do you think called the FBI, huh?" Tony demanded.

"And they got their asses kicked immediately!"

"And you did what exactly?"

Peter swallowed. A soft, angry mumble shivered from his chest. "I just wanted to be like you."

Tony glowered. "And I wanted you to be better."

Peter didn't have an answer to that, turning away with a sharp flinch to stare down at the water again where the ferry was finally beginning to dock. His face was scrunched up in cold anger. Tony stared at him, waiting, but the teenager didn't do anything. Didn't say anything. With an indignant sniff, Tony glanced between the approaching boat of people and the kid sitting stiffly in front of him.

"Okay, it’s not working out. I’m gonna need the suit back."

That caught Peter's attention. His head whipped around and he finally swiveled off of the building's edge, standing to face him. The defensiveness was back in full force now, broken only by a shiver of fear in the tremble on his face.

The teenager swallowed. "For how long?"

"Forever." Peter gaped at him, shaking his head. Tony hit him with a withering expression. "Yeah. Yeah, that’s how it works."

"No, no, no... Please, please, please..." the kid rushed, his voice pitching higher.

"Let’s have it."

"You don’t understand. Please. This is all I have. I’m nothing without this suit."

"If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it." Tony stopped in his demand, pausing to stare into the distance under the guise of letting Peter absorb his words but really choking down his own panic and regret. This was how he was treating his soulmate. He hadn't known this kid for a week and he'd had maybe two successful conversations with him. And now he was yelling and bringing down and punishing. "God, I sound like my dad."

Peter stared at him, swallowing. "Mr. Stark, please I don't want you to g--"

"The suit. Peter."

He could barely even look at the kid's completely dejected expression.

---

Peter meandered down the street, his head down as he forced himself to bite down on tears. It wasn't that hard, he'd had a lot of practice recently after all, but he couldn't deny that it hurt. Well, he could, but not to himself.

With the loss of the suit, Peter's bag was considerably lighter. Empty. It was disturbingly similar to how he felt in the moment, like a stumbling shell of a person.

He'd fucked up. He knew he had. But he didn't think he'd fucked up enough to lose his soulmate. He'd just--he'd just wanted to try and impress Mr. Stark, to show the man that he was worthy of being the shadow that had followed the superhero--his hero--around for fifteen years. He huffed to himself quietly at the horrible irony of it all.

After Mr. Stark had demanded to the suit, well, Peter had given it to him. He hadn't had much other choice. The man had allowed for him to go grab the bag he'd webbed to an alleyway earlier and change into his clothes. Choking down panicked tears, the teenager had folded up the barely used suit, and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped the card, the phone, and the badge given to him into the mask. He wanted to have given him the red hoodie too, but it was the only top he'd had, so he'd reluctantly kept it. He'd given the stuff that was no longer his to the still seething Avenger and had left. Mr. Stark hadn't ask where he was going, so he hadn't told him.

Not that Peter was amazingly sure he knew himself. He didn't want to go back to where Mr. Fowler was surely working from home. Peter was supposed to be at school, the man would be furious that he hadn't gone, and he didn't have the courage to face him right now. The ghosted feeling of a hand tugging at his hair and painful nails in his shoulder was enough to keep him wandering the streets of Queens for as long as he possibly could.

There wasn't a destination, there was barely even a journey, there was just the tired wanderings of a teenager trying desperately not to break down crying. Part of him wished he'd kept the phone, just so he could text Ned, or even lose himself mindlessly on social media for an hour or two, but Mr. Stark's words rang clearly in his head.

"Forever."

Peter shook himself vigorously, taking a wispy breath. Of course he would lose his soulmate not even a week after meeting him. Everyone else had left too, it really only made sense.

He didn't know why he'd let himself hope.

"I don't want you to go."

A painfully strong shiver up his spine forced the teenager to stop in the middle of the alleyway he'd been cutting through. Peter pulled back his sleeve, brows furrowing as the hairs on his arm rose on end. Without his phone, or the watch kept on his webshooter, the teen had no way of knowing what time it was, but it had to have been at least half an hour since Mr. Stark had taken the suit. Since he'd caused a gun to split a ferry full of innocent bystanders in half.

"And I wanted you to be better."

Peter had assumed his senses had continued to freak out from the resounding adrenaline and the complete rush of panic that had been today--from the horribleness of it all--but they still weren't calming down.

Jittery, he turned to leave the alleyway back the way he came, but there was a man blocking his way. He froze when he recognized him and the glitching gauntlet on his arm. From the bridge and the ferry. The man stalked forward.

Peter whipped around to escape towards the other end, but another man stood there as well, a different alien weapon in his hands. Peter paused again, eyes shifting desperately for an escape even as the weapon behind him charged up with a threatening snap.

"Give it up, kid," ordered the man. "Come easy, and we won't hurt you."

"Wow. So reassuring," Peter snapped. Without warning, the teenager leaped, jumping onto the wall as high as he could reach. He attempted to begin skittering up the wall, but there was another spike in his senses.

There was no time to dodge as he was encased by an annoyingly familiar blue light that crashed him to the ground straight into a gathering of trashcans. He groaned in pain as he collided with the metal, the cans tipping over and releasing their contents near and on him. There were footsteps, and he tried to push himself back up, but the man with the gauntlet approached quicker than he could recover.

The teenager stared up at him as the man smirked. The gauntlet cracked.

"Nighty-night."

Peter could only close his eyes as a metal fist came crashing down.

---

~Click for better quality~

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

#friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #Iron Man #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker #you would not BELIEVE the amount of time i spent on the stupid thing peter is sitting on #idk who designed that #but fuck them

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iwantitiwriteit · 4 years ago

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Love Lockdown - Part 2

Big Girl With a Brave Face

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You brace yourself for your FaceTime with Chris.

Warnings: Angst, Pandemic backdrop, Profanity

Notes: More heart strumming feels! Read the previous part! Gonna try and put these up on Monday’s starting next week 8/10, along with In My Feelings Monday™, when my asks will be open for all your romantic musings! Let’s get sweet and sappy y’all! I know you wanna 🥰

The sun shines down, a crisp wind whisking by you every so often; applause for your hard work in the garden. You found a circadian rhythm. Grasp, pull, dump. Grasp, pull, dump. It afforded you an opportunity to get lost in thought… and memory.

You just don’t get it, do you?

Baby, I want to!

Why didn’t you say anything?

Would it have mattered?

I think we can both agree we need the space…

We need to talk…

I love you.

I love you too.

“Are you okay Aunty?” Iris’ innocent voice drifts into your trance but doesn’t break it completely.

You absentmindedly respond. “Uh huh. Why do you ask?”

“Probably ‘cos you're pulling at those weeds so ferociously I think you might’ve got a few good plants,” Ines answers for her younger sister, the teenage ‘tude snapping you to reality.

You assess your handiwork and sure enough, in your pile of weeds, some good plants lie there with them, undeservedly plucked from the earth. “Oh, my bad,” you sheepishly apologize.

“It’s okay. The only difference between a weed and a flower is judgment. Here,” Ines shuffles over to your spot.

“Ines, you’re wise beyond your years, you know that?” You stand up, placing your palms on your lower back, arching and stretching in a moment of respite. Looking over your nieces tending to the greenery you botched, their youthful vigor bring a genuine smile to your face. Those have been few and far in between these days.

“I know, right? Could you tell my mom for me?” she kids, making you laugh. “It couldn’t have been that long since it was you and Mama doing this,” Ines smirks at you briefly before refocusing on rerooting.

You chuckle, “Ha! Feels like a lifetime ago. But, yeah, it really hasn’t been that long. Guess I just kinda lost touch.”

“Do you miss it? Do you miss being here?” Iris asks.

“Umm… honestly?” The both of them look up at you, eyes wide and expectant. “I thought I didn’t. L.A. can be blinding in that way. But now that I’m here, I feel a little more… myself. Not to mention that I’ve missed you girls soo much! C’mere!”

A niece under each arm, hugging your middle tightly, you can feel how much they’ve missed you as well. You want to be a better aunt to them. Your love for your family is as expansive as the family farm you marvel at in front of you. Acres of green going beyond the quaint garden near the house, with the barn just behind the rustic office and rec building where the farmers are currently gathered for lunch just a few feet away. But your feelings were much like half your sister’s employees as of late; they didn’t show, especially in crisis.

Through one of the windows, you catch sight of a familiar profile; hand to his temple pressing deep into his smooth, mahogany skin, thick, dark brows knitted together in concentration, plump lips puckered as he writes furiously, occasionally taking a bite of his sandwich. He must feel your eyes because he looks up to meet them, breaking focus from his working lunch. The hand that was to his temple is now raised for a tentative wave, just as the corner of his mouth is raised for a beautiful, sweet smile.

Your shoulders tense, your wave is curt, and your smile is barely there. You avert your eyes not wanting to see the effect of your abrupt actions.

“I know Keith is glad you’re back, too.” You look down to see Iris looking up at you, her 10 year old face contorted into her best suggestive look.

Ines rolls her eyes at her sister’s antics, “Oh, stop it! She’s already got the most perfect, dreamy boyfriend, remember?”

“Well, I’ve never met him. Have you? How do we know if he’s even real?”

“She’s got a point. Why haven’t we met him yet?”

“If he thinks he's too good to come down south, meet your family, let me tell you something Aunty, that’s not the kind of man you should be with.”

“I don’t think Aunty had ‘take dating advice from a child’ on her quarantine to-do list. Maybe he’s just busy; he is a movie star— correction— a superhero! Superhero equals stable income, stable income means husband material. Simple math.”

“Well, Keith has a stable and would never be too busy for her!”

“Keith runs a stable… a horse stable. Not exactly a selling point, right Aunty?”

“Aunty, tell her she’s wrong!”

The girls get to bickering and you wipe your forehead, not too sure if it’s from the heat or the interrogation you’re enduring. You check your watch. 1:39 pm.

“Shit!” Your exclamation silences your nieces as they whip their heads towards you. “Sorry ladies,” you offer an apologetic smile for the obscenity. “I, uh, gotta get ready for a call. Let’s turn it in early, yeah?” They race in the house without a second thought, and you trail behind them.

You remove your shoes in the mud room, then stalk down the hall toward the main part of the house. You wave to your sister as you pass her home office where she’s pacing, busy on the phone, swamped in paperwork. She waves you over with a confused face and shrugs as she sees her girls buzzing around.

You go to lean in the door jamb of her office as she asks, “What brings y’all inside so early? Wasn’t expecting you to be back in for another couple hours.”

“I have that FaceTime call at 2 I gotta get ready for, remember?”

“Right, right… remind me again. It’s for a writing gig?” she asks, sifting through her mountain of papers, as distracted as she was this morning when you told her your afternoon plans.

“Uh, no. It’s um, with… Chris,” your voice trails off with each word.

Your sister whips her head around, interest now piqued. “Really? That’s good, right?”

You shrug and sigh, indifference in your expression, “It’s, y'know… whatever, Mina.”

Wilhelmina furrows her brows, “What’s wrong?” Before you could contemplate an excuse, she puts a finger up to you, “Yes, thank you, I’m trying to get in touch with…” she answers to the person on the other line.

Your watch buzzes with your 15 minute reminder for your FaceTime with Chris. “I gotta go,” you tell your sister, before turning to head upstairs. The ascension to the second level feels like a death march, the impending doom of your relationship finally setting in. Each step feels increasingly weighted. Once at the top of the staircase, you pinch the bridge of your nose as if that will alleviate your anxieties.

“Let’s get you ready,” Wilhelmina’s maternal voice drifts to you as she comes up the stairs, melting your nerves a little. She shoots you a pity smile before ushering you into your guest room, where you make a B-line for the bathroom.

You take your time and delicately wash away the grime and sweat from your face. It’s like a Neutrogena commercial, the way you come up from the sink, staring yourself in the mirror. You take note of the creases in your forehead caused by your tense brows, the pain in your eyes, your overall sullen expression. And this feeling. This feeling is like being suspended mid-air, knowing the dreadful drop was any minute now.

You know very well who is in control of the drop. You just don’t know when you gave up that control to him. The only thing you can do now is go with grace. In an effort to have some sense of control, you did what anyone in your situation would do: You turned to Google.

“what to do when your boyfriend is about to break up with you” is what you typed into the search engine this morning. You felt like a teenager. Young and dumb. Like you’d never been in a relationship before. Like you’d never been broken up with before. None of this is new. And yet, it is. You hadn’t been here before. You hadn’t known this feeling before.

The feeling of knowing the one to make the dreadful drop happen is the same one that you love more than you knew was even possible, and damn did it hurt like hell. But could it have hurt more than knowing you’re the one that brought him to this point? Especially when you know these deep feelings are requited? The love is requited.

Who knows. You just file these feelings away for later in the hopes that it’ll inspire your pen. Right now it’s time to put on a brave face. You’ve gotten so good at it.

“So, what brought this on?” Wilhelmina inquiries after a few minutes of you lollygagging in front of the bathroom mirror.

“Oh, umm… well, he called last night. It was the first time we talked since—”

“You got here.”

“Yeah, but who’s counting,” your deadpan earns you a disapproving look from your sister. You’ve learned to ignore it. You check the time. 5 til. “Ugh, I don’t have time to pretty myself up. Breakups are ugly anyways; guess I’ll have to be, too,” you joke, leaving Whilelmina bewildered.

“Wait, what? You’re dumping him? I know it’s tough, trust me, I get it, but—”

“No... he’s gonna dump me,” you correct her.

“What would make you think that?”

“I don’t know, maybe cos he said ‘we need to talk… for real’,” you mock his deep voice; it’s how you read his text last night in your head, “and we all know what that means…”

“Hold up, it doesn’t necessarily mean that!”

“C’mon Mina! It’s textbook breakup prep!”

“Maybe for a teenager, but he’s a grown ass man. If he says he wants to talk, he probably just wants to talk.”

“Yeah, about dumping you…” Ines mumbles under her breath from the doorway. Wilhelmina stares daggers into her mouthy daughter, and she shrinks away to mind her business.

You continue to get ready, mainly focusing on laying your edges before finding a new shirt. “So, why would he suggest we quarantine separately knowing we had issues we were working on?” you debate your sister.

“Because like he said: you need some space. Totally normal for maintaining a healthy relationship.”

“Is it though? Cos when I say “I need space”, I’m thinking about making an exit. And that’s on a good, non-pandemic day. Hell, our issues alone would make me bow out. Now you add this stressful shit on top?”

“Then why haven’t you?”

Her simple question makes you stop in tracks, your brave face wavering for just a moment. “B-Because— it doesn’t matter. He’s ending things with me, in,” you check the time, “3 minutes. And I don’t blame him! I’ve been a mess lately! An emotional wreck lately! You should’ve heard me last night, it was gross!”

Wilhelmina starts to chuckle at your dramatics, but you can tell she’s laughing at you, not with you. “What’s so funny?”

“Sweetheart, you’d have to show emotions to be an emotional wreck. I think you skipped a few steps.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes as you peel off your sweaty shirt and toss it in the laundry basket. You take your wash cloth to dab your underarms before putting on a nicer top. A proper shower will have to wait til later.

“I’ll have you know that I do, in fact, have emotions. I just channel them into my writing, to avoid sapping them all over any- and everyone… like some people I know,” you quirk your brow and tilt your head in Wilhelmina‘s direction.

“Girl, whatever! From what you told me, Chris is as much a romantic as I am, maybe even more so. You don’t hate it as much as you let on. Just admit it.”

You slowly turn away from Wilhelmina to primp yourself in the full length mirror. She follows you, glaring at you in hopes she will break you down. You decide to throw her a bone.

“Last night, I told him how we should’ve been together right now. There was even a quiver in my voice because I do really, really miss him. It was all so, so...” Your sister’s hands are clutching her chest, eyes glazed like she was watching a romcom. She’d finally gotten through to you. “… so pathetic.” Or so she’d thought. The sound of frustration that came from her amused you greatly, your eyes now glazed from crying of laughter.

“See, that’s what the hell I'm talking about! If he brings emotion— vulnerability— out of you, why do you resist? He’s worth keeping around, sis. I would think you: an artist, a writer for god’s sakes, would find some value in that.”

You stare straight ahead, fixing imaginary stray curls in your hair, and avoiding eye contact with Wilhelmina. She awaits your response, brows raised, neck craned toward you, hands below her chest with palms up, as if to say ‘Sooo...???’. You wondered how long she’d stay like that before you said something. “Are you done?”

Your sister sighs, and it’s quickly followed by ringing from your laptop. You both look in its direction, then at each other. The moment you’d been bracing for all day is here. You hesitantly move towards the chair at your desk where your laptop is sat.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Wilhelmina says before excusing herself. You almost didn’t want her to go. But you’ve got to be a big girl with a brave face.

“One last thing?” you twist in your chair to look at her in your doorway, “I know who made you believe that big girls don’t cry, but it’s bullshit. It’s good to feel. It’s okay to show it sometimes, too. Especially with the ones who showed and proved they won’t judge you for it,” she motions to your still ringing computer before closing your door.

You turn back to your desk, swallowing thickly. Here goes. You answer the call and Chris’ smiling face fills your screen. That beautiful face that’s worth doing right by.

“Hey baby! For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t answer,” he nervously chuckles.

You smile at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes. He senses your apprehension. Even through a screen, he’s perceptive. Chris starts to small talk, rambling about work and the weather, intending to ease your guard down before getting to the tough stuff. But it’s absolutely painful pretending to be strangers.

“Chris?”

“Yes honey?”

“I don’t wanna do this with you.”

Part 3

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #Chris Evans series #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans angst #chris evans x woc #chris evans series #chris evans #love lockdown series

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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May 10, 2021: Blade Runner 2049 (2017) (Recap: Part Two)

Said I’d talk about artificial humans in sci-fi, so...

There are a HELL of a lot of examples of artificial humans in science-fiction, as well as the ethical and philosophical concepts that their existence raises. Now, your definition of “artificial” may differ from medium to medium. At its base form, these are humans that are not born, but made. I’ll be talking fleshy organic humans, not robotic ones. The most common of these is, of course, clones.

A clone, strictly speaking, is a genetically identical copy of a pre-existing organism, in this case a human. While this isn’t technology we’ve applied to humans as of yet (due to the NUMEROUS ethical problems and questions), we have done so with animals, mostly sheep and cats. It’s actually a good way to de-extinct certain species, and we’ve already done experiments with that. Of course...that has its own concerns.

Keeping up the Jurassic Park reference streak! Anyway...

There are a FUCKTON of examples of clones in science-fiction, but since I’m a massive comic book nerd, I’ll use Superboy. The genetic combination of Superman and Lex Luthor, Conner Kent is one of the most prominent clone superheroes. He’s not the only clone of Superman, of course. He’s not even my favorite clone of Superman, to be honest...

Bizarro am the worst. ME WILL LIVE ON THAT HILL.

Oh, and let’s not forget THE most prominent artificial human in comic books PERIOD. I don’t care what her origin in the movies is, that’s never been my favorite version of Wonder Woman. Making her a demigod robs her of something important, in my opinion.

...Should I make a comic book blog? Shit, thinkin’ about it.

OK, before I do that, these are just my favorite examples. Fact is, there are FAR too many examples of artificial humans to go into, whether they’re built, grown, sculpted, conjured, or a chemical reaction with an extra ingredient in the concoction.

And look, I could go on all day about this, but we got a long-ass movie to get back to. SO, lets jump back in. Part One is here!

Recap (2/2)

Understandably exhausted, K returns home, confused and conflicted. However, he’s greeted with a surprise from Joi: a prostitute! Namely, this is Mariette (Mackenzie Davis), one of the girls who approached him earlier. Joi’s called her here in order to be “real” for K, the effect is impressive, if somewhat...off-putting. Still, while K obviously didn’t need this to be happy with their relationship, Joi might, and Mariette’s all on board.

And it doesn’t take K terrible long to get on board, either. As both Mariette and Joi strip, it makes me wonder...how much does this subscription service for Joi cost. There’s no goddamn way this is free, right? Like, how exclusive IS this AI? And they cut from that scene to a Joi commercial, where we hear that Joi becomes anything you want her to be, and does anything you want her to do. But something tells me that...well, that it’s not quite so simple.

Once the night is over, Joi tells Mariette to leave, and not nicely either. Mariette leaves, rebuking her on the way out as well. K, meanwhile, knows that the Blade Runners will soon be coming after him. He’ll be going on the run, and Joi wants to go with him. And so, they put her inside of a remote device, while deleting her information from the main apartment console. This gets the attention of Luv, who head over to the apartment to figure out what’s going on.

K goes to Doc Badger (Barkhad Adbi), who analyzes the horse for him. It’s discovered that old radiation can be found there, and that amount and kind of radiation can only be found in areas where a dirty bomb has been set off. This would be in the desolate and weird-ass ruins of Las Vegas. While nobody lives there at this point, K and Joi go to check it out.

An IMMENSELY frustrated Luv, unaware of K’s discovery about himself, goes to confront Joshi about K’s whereabouts. Luv berates her for being afraid of change, and tells her that she “can’t fend off the tide with a broom”. Which is a great line. However, as Joshi is no use to her at this point, Luv just straight up kills her. Which, I’m sure, will go over well with the whole “Replicants aren’t dangerous” thing.

Meanwhile, in Vegas...shit is WEIRD. First off all, the desolate wasteland is full of statues of giant sexy wimmin, and I mean GIANT statues. Beneath one of them is a series of beehives, which K goes into to get a hand of beeeees. After that, he goes into an abandoned hotel/casino, rigged with tripwires and booby traps. OK. What.

So, somebody’s using this place as a hideaway, despite the entire city being destroyed by a dirty bomb, and probably extremely radioactive. K searches around and finds it empty. He begins to play a piano, hoping to draw someone out. He ends up drawing out a dog, as well as the inhabitant of the hotel.

Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford), baby! Quoting Stevenson’s Treasure Island and holding K up at gunpoint with dog at side is the original Blade Runner himself, Rick Fucking Deckard. God, I love this. Deckard hunts K down throughout the casino, where we see some trippy holograms, and the future of Vegas stageshows (probably).

The two fight, but eventually call a truce and decide to get a drink at the bar. K gets to it pretty quickly, and confronts Deckard on his potential child with Rachael. He confirms that Rachael was indeed pregnant by him, but he had never met his child. Which was the plan, to be fair. He wanted their child to be protected, not hunted down and eventually dissected.

Sometimes, to love someone...you gotta be a stranger.

To an old Frank Sinatra song, a forlorn K (now calling himself “Joe”) looks around, and sees carved wooden animals that resemble the horse that’s haunted his life and memories so much by this point. Which makes sense, considering the foil unicorn from the previous film. Neat little tie-in there.

But paradise is not all it’s cracked up to be, as someone soon comes to find both K and Deckard, despite the fact that K came alone. Although, now that I think about it, Joi may not be one that you can truly trust. Deckard and K try to escape their pursuers, but are caught pretty quickly. In the process, K is injured, but manages to get up in order to fight back. However, this is Luv with these people, and she beats K down EASILY. Turns out that Luv is actually an enforcer, rather than just a secretary. And when Joi awakens from K’s device to ask her to stop, well...she kills the device, and she kills K. In the process, she also takes Deckard away, leaving K behind. Fuck.

K wakes up, only to discover Mariette standing over him in the Las Vegas wasteland. She takes care of him as he wakes up, also stitching up with wounds from the explosion. She tells K to trust her, as well as her compatriots. One of them is the hooded woman from earlier, a Replicant named Freysa (Hiam Abbass). An old friend of Sapper’s she saw the delivery of the child, the “miracle”, and also hid the child away, as it was a symbol that the Replicants are more than just slave, that they are their own masters.

Freysa is building a revolution in order to free the Replicants once and for all. And I’m hard-pressed to disagree with their cause, not gonna lie. However, this comes at a price. In order to prevent Wallace from killing the cause, K must prevent Deckard from leading them to Freysa. They must do what they can until they can reveal the child to the world. For she will be their leader.

Fuck.

Understandably COMPLETELY crushed at this revelation, and more confused than ever, K collapses. Freysa tells him that they ALL wish they were the one, and they all believe. It’s at this point, that K realizes exactly who the Hybrid is: Dr. Ana Stelline. The horse from earlier, it turns out, did in fact belong to her, and she planted her childhood memory with the horse in K’s mind as a Replicant. Damn. DAMN! That’s why the memory moved her so: because it was hers.

Meanwhile, Deckard awakens to a separate nightmare: Jared Leto telling him how he feels about him. After all, Deckard helped to create the first Replicant-human hybrid. He asks him for his help in obtaining the child, so that the key of Replicant reproduction can be further unlocked. And he proceeds in convincing Deckard by playing audio of Rachael and his first meeting (from the first film, of course).

Niander fucks with him further, by suggesting Deckard was summoned all those years ago specifically to fall in love with Rachael in order to father a child with her. But despite all of this, Deckard refuses to give up any of his information. And so, Niander pulls out his ace-in-the-hole...and it’s a real shitty thing to do to a man in mourning.

Damn. Dude rebuilt Rachael, tries to tempt Deckard with her, FAILS, then lets Luv shoot her in the head. Fucking power move, and fuck Niander for playing it. Dude is a DICK. Meanwhile. that one visual from every single ad of this movie is happening, and I can FINALLY use one of the 8000 GIFs of it, goddamn.

Not gonna lie, it’s an iconic appearance, so I get why it’s so famous. Anyway, K considers a suicidal option, now that he knows the truth. However, before we get to see the final decision, we get to see Deckard being taken back to LA for interrogation by Wallace. However, to prevent him from potentially leading Wallace to the secret of Ana Stelline, K suddenly appears, opening fire on their ship.

The craft is downed, and K exits the car to engage in a firefight with Luv. He appears to win, but Luv isn’t killed once she’s shot. The two have a fistfight out in the rain, and Deckard waits for water to slowly kill the craft that he’s still inside of.

As expected, Luv handles herself well, and despite a number of close calls, she JUST. WILL. NOT. DIE. Damn, she’s resilient. However, despite K, Luv, and Deckard all nearly drowning in an INTENSE fight between the Replicants, an enraged and crazed Luv finally eventually drowns, ending her threat for good.

K saves Deckard from the sinking ship, and agrees to stage his death, allowing him to meet his daughter for the first time. Once at her facility, K returns Deckard’s horse to him, knowing that it was a gift from him. He tells Deckard that his best memories all come from her, implying that this makes him similar to Deckard’s son, which he picks up on when he asks if he’s OK.

Deckard goes to meet his daughter, and K hangs out on the stairs outside. He feels the snow fall on his hand, and he just...watches it all fall around him. He sits, and he watches it all. And meanwhile, Deckard meets his daughter for the first time.

...Can I just say...GODDAMN!

That movie was absolutely stellar, and it’s definitely landing in the high ‘90s for me, calling it now. I...wow. Seriously. Amazing.

See you in the Review!

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cassatine · 4 years ago

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and now a full write-up for the second half of propaganda garbage: the show ep 2. first half here.

yesterday i left off after the unsurprising revelation that the Flag Smashers have eco-fascist talking points - to be clear, they’re not actually eco-fascists, it’s just that they exist to be a made-in-conservatlandia caricature of radical leftism (that cannot but turn bad) and the eco-fascism taking points make it a tad less on the nose for the non-conservatives who want to believe they’re being catered to.

the Flag Smashers aren’t supposed to even hint to a real ideological alternative to that which is pushed by the show: they suscribe to the view that injustice is basically baked into humanity, or as Sam said “making things better for one group makes them worse for everyone else“. they don’t disagree with that premise at all, and in fact reiterate it when Karli Leader Lady outright says things were better before the Blip because there were fewer people, and now things suck because all those refugees getting repatriated is eating all the ressources: making things better for Blip victims is making things worse for everyone else. (also amazing inversion here, with the US military and government and let’s just say first world countries since lbr who the fuck do we think has power in the GRC doing A Lot for “refugees” and the caricature-radical-left baddies arguing *checks notes* that the gvt is allocating to many ressources to the refugee crisis. no one actually says refugee crisis but like. come the fuck on. this comes back to the Flag Smashers not being any kind of real ideological alternative: even under the eco-fascism talking points they’re just rehashing anti-immigration conservative rhetoric.)

where their views truly diverge is in their, ehr, solution to the inherent injustice problem. they’re not into maintaining the status quo as the least worst option, but they’re not really into changing it either - they don’t have an alternative to the curent world order to offer: theyre ‘against borders’ but again, that kind of stuff’s just there to make them look radical-left-adjacent. what they’re into is fewer people so that the ones left have moar ressources.

so when we pick up, their ideological stance’s just been revealed to boil down to “we had a glimpse of how things could be” when half the planet’s population killed off, and then Flag Smashers hint they have something big in the plans for the next day, so big there’ll be no going back. also their motto is ‘one world, one people’, because 'stand up, damned of the earth’ would be too on the nose even for this show.

meanwhile, Sam and Bucky go visit Bucky’s...not friend? a guy he knows called Isaiah in Baltimore, where we first get a scene with two black kids calling Sam ‘Black Falcon’ when they recognize him in the street. he pretends to be Not Amused, stopping to say it’s just Falcon and ‘do u want to be called Black Kid’ but hahaha he was joking, not being serious. social commentary bait - i kinda want to like that scene, tbh, because it’s less artificial than most of the previous ones, but also the situation is written so that Sam can’t really say how he feels about the moniker, because he’s talking to two black kids happy to see a black superhero - one of the kids even explains it’s his father who told him to call Sam Black Falcon.

and it still ends on haha joke now, which is kind of a pattern in this episode, and we move on to Bucky’s not-buddy Isaiah. they met during the Korean war. Bucky was with Hydra killing US soldiers there or some such and Isaiah was sent by the US military to deal with him and they fought it out in a bar in Goyang. it’s unclear why neither finished the other but that was their one and only interaction until now, it seems.

Isaiah laughs when Bucky says he’s not an assassin anymore, because you think you can wake up one day and decide who you wanna be? doesn’t work like that. Isaiah is a black man, so when he adds that ‘well, maybe it does for folks like you’, it sounds like he’s saying something to the effect of ‘systemic racism means only white people get second chances and that’s deeply unjust and i’d know because that’s my life’ or maybe ‘people don’t change but systemic racism lets white people pretend they can’. the end of the episode also gives you the option to see it a Hydra dig. no, really - turns out Isaiah’s serum-enhanced, and it’s not yet clear if Bucky wants intel or more from him, but Isaiah doesn’t care that there are superstrong meanies out there because after his Heroic Time In Korea he spent thirty years in jail being experimented on and he’s understandably Done; ‘even your people weren’t done with me,’ he tells Bucky, but the twist is that at the very end of the episode Bucky comes back to that conversation, going ‘when he said my people’, and Sam tells him not to take it to heart and ~that’s not what he meant~. which Bucky already knew, because by that Isaiah meant... Hydra.

so there’s that. the wonder duo gets thrown out, and Sam’s pissed too because no one’s ever told him Isaiah, black super soldier, existed at all - but his attempt at confronting Bucky on that is cut short before he even gets to ‘were u going to tell me or anyone at all that said first black super soldier spent thirty years being experimented on in jail or is it fine with you that it’s all been hushed up, what the fucking fuck man‘ because enter two white cops. racial profiling scene that turns into sorry Mr Wilson i didn’t recognize you without the goggles (unlike the army, the police very much can be shown in a bad light) means that if Sam doesn’t get to confront Bucky, Bucky does get to say he remained silent on the matter of Isaiah because Isaiah had suffered enough. Sam doesn’t get to confront him on that excuse either (reminder that Bucky hasn’t seen Isaiah since friggin Korea and thus is unlikely to have any idea what Isaiah actually wants; maybe he’s superdone superheroing but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want a measure of justice if he could get one), because there’s a warrant on Bucky, who missed court-mandated therapy, whoopsie, and thus is under arrest and taken away.

there areno real repercussions to that because Discount Captain America gets Bucky out of his police station cell in a jiffy ince the world is small and DCA and Bucky’s therapist know each other from the army. said therapist is there too, to force Bucky and Sam into making-up through a therapy session in an interrogation room. somehow it turns into queerbaiting when the therapist tries an exercise she ~uses with couples trying to decide what kind of life they want to build together. it’s the miracle question, and the miracle they both want is for the other to talk less, because it’s back to banter, baby. Bucky gets to talk about what aggravates him in Sam, and of course it’s why did you abandon the shield blah blah blah you threw away Steve’s legacy and maybe Steve was wrong about you whoop de woo it’s really about Bucky himself, because then maybe Steve was wrong about Bucky too. cue the violins. Sam gets to tell him he did what he thought was right, but he doesn’t get to reopen the Isaiah confrontation or the cop situation or anything weighty and instead a deal is made: deal with the Flag Smashers, separate and never see each other again.

DCA was waiting for them to once again offer working together, and explains he thinks the Flag Smashers will be distributing their medecine in camps in Central and Eastern Europe - and since those camps are Blip refugees camps he’s either wrong or it’s probably not medicine that’s going to be distributed, unless the show drops all pretenses of coherency. he doesn’t know where they are though. there’s antagonism, mostly from Bucky and DCA, and still no working together, but Sam’s reason this time is DCA needs authorisations and shit whereas him and Bucky are free agents who can do whatever. as proven by *checks notes* his government property drone, his work for the USAF, and Bucky’s court-mandated therapy.

meanwhile in Slovakia the Flag Smashers are loading an airplane when new players enter, peeps working for ‘the Power Broker‘. they kill one of the Flag Smashers but the others get away. the Power Broker seems to be behind the ‘u stole from me imma kill you’ text, and it all seems overkill for stolen vaccines or whatever, and since the Flag Smasher’s super strength is apparently serum-induced and Hydra’s fucking everywhere maybe he’s the middle man.

and finally, as covered: ‘when he said my people’, Bucky starts - and immediately Sam tells him not to take it to heart and ~that’s not what he meant~ because friggin Hydra. so instead of Sam getting to read the ‘were u going to tell me or anyone at all that the first black Super Soldier spent thirty years being experimented on in jail or is it fine with you that it’s all been hushed up, what the fucking fuck man‘ riot act or anything like that. the episode ends on ‘let’s go talk to Zemo’.

and that’s a wrap without a conclusion because the only one i have is yesterday’s: it’s a show that makes a perfunctory attempt at pretending it’s not propaganda, but only so it can win the participation award.

#not sure whether i'll do the next eps #i'd say maybe shorter posts #but this was already supposed to be short #le sigh #cass watches falconwinter #spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier

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maxdark158 · 5 years ago

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Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

hi. it’s been a while. let’s get into the actual chapter then.

oooOOOooo

Marinette wasn’t used to houses as large as the Wayne Manor – that much was clear. Her eyes were wide when she first took everything in. He didn’t take her on a tour, he knew Todd and Drake were somewhere in the mansion and he didn’t want her meeting them until she was ready.

Her jaw did drop when Alfred showed her their kitchen though. Her expression almost made him regret his decision to not give her a tour. The faces she would have possibly made looking at the grand halls and rooms or would have been- not worth Todd and Drake.

Hence the almost.

Marinette seemed to adjust to her surroundings quickly enough. Perhaps the food Alfred managed to make quickly helped with that. She seemed delighted by the taste.

“My parents don’t make these often,” she mumbled, munching on her blondie. “White chocolate is usually used for decoration.”

“I’m glad the daughter of bakers can enjoy my desserts,” Alfred seemed to like her, which was good. He wouldn’t do anything to keep the other two away from her though. Alfred did little to mitigate possible damage done by siblings.

He left after that, though Marinette kept asking if he wanted to eat with them. Damian wasn’t sure why Alfred was so hell-bent on leaving them alone. Unlike Marinette, he didn’t buy that, “I already ate,” bullshit.

However his glare didn’t exactly work through walls, so he instead talked to his an- Marinette.

They talked about a lot of things. What she was planning to do with the fabrics she bought while they were out, she had designs based off Gotham’s superheroes, based off him and his family too but they aren’t as important, then how much free time she would have given where her field trip would be taking her over the course of the rest of her days here, he took a mental note of locations and times she mentioned so he could possibly spend more ti- spring her from spending time with that awful class, which led into what she liked about Gotham so far and what she wanted to see before leaving, which he also made note of. For other reasons- not those reasons though, just other reasons in general. To make sure they were safe.

She seemed happy.

It was a good look for her.

Wait, what the fu-

“Can you help me clean up?” she asked, startling Damian out of his own mental interrogation. He’ll return to it later, it seems.

“Sure,” he picked up his empty plate. Alfred happened to choose that moment to return and help clean up, so the mother fucker was clearly fucking listening in. Bitch.

They cleaned for a few wordless moments before Marinette spoke again.

“Do your brothers know we’re here?” she asked Damian while she took the glasses to the kitchen. Damian trailed after her with the plates.

“No, and we can leave before they find out if we’re quick about it,” maybe she changed her mind about meeting them. He wouldn’t blame her.

“What if I’d like to meet them?” she teased. “They sound fun!”

Fucking fuck fuck.

“Alright Angel, if you’re sure,” he pursed his lips, “but if you want to leave for any reason, just tell me.”

“Master Damian, I do believe that Miss Marinette is capable of taking care of herself,” Alfred almost seemed to be chiding him.

This just in, Alfred is fucking dead to him now.

He began putting the plates in the dishwasher, because unlike fucking Todd, he doesn’t just drop them in the fucking sink and walk away like a heathen.

“What he said, Damian,” Marinette giggled. “I’ll be fine. They can’t be worse than the Riddler or Hawkmoth, and I survived those two.”

Is that how she approaches every situation? Well, it can’t be worse than the fucking Butterfly Terrorist in Paris or the Green Guy with Deadly Riddles! He realized he was gripping the plate in his hands too hard and forced himself to relax.

Then he saw who was behind hi- Marinette.

“Todd,” he didn’t growl, which is a point to him. Todd fucking smirked too, and Damian didn’t murder him. Another point.

“Demon Spawn! I thought you went somewhere else!” He glanced down at Marinette. “Timmy! The Riddler girl is here!”

Of fucking course Drake wanted to talk to Marinette. Of fucking course.

Drake ran in like a fucking lunatic. He is a fucking lunatic but that doesn’t mean he has to run like one. He can run like a normal person just fucking fine. Damian heard him break something on his way to the kitchen, adding to the needlessness of his theatrics. He fought back a sigh and put the last plate away.

“Holy sh-

“Language,” Alfred tutted. Like he fucking cared about fucking language after the Swear Jar Incident.

“You’re actually here! I didn’t think Damian would let you near us!” Damian almost grabbed the dirty plate out of the dishwasher and smashed it against Drake’s head. “I’m Tim Drake-Wayne!”

“Jason Todd-Wayne,” Damian’s least favorite brother said.

No, that wasn’t fair to Drake. They were both his least favorite family member.

Marinette seemed to hesitate for a moment. Her eyes widened briefly, like she had come to a realization. Damian mentally screamed when he found the expression cute. She isn’t cute she’s just his friend who is attractive but he isn’t attracted to her he can just acknowledge the fucking fact-

Then, she smiled. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng! A pleasure to meet you!”

Drake practically fell over himself trying to get the words out. “So you solved The Riddler’s riddle, right?” Tim asked. “Like, knew what the answer was?”

Marinette nodded. “He probably googled it. A toddler could do better.”

Damian frowned. Did… did she not consider the Riddler a serious villain? Did she not realize that his riddles were meant to be difficult…

Did she not realize how impressive it was that she solved it, especially since it was a play on a language that isn’t her first?

Drake lit up at her nonchalance, likely excited that she considered an intelligent adversary easy to defeat. Fuck that shit.

“Drake, don’t harass her with your questions!” he snapped. Because what the fuck. She was his friend first anyway she doesn’t have to be interrogated.

“I’m not!”

“You are!”

“She isn’t uncomfortable-”

“You’re asking about her first and only encounter with a villain of course she is-”

“Are you even looking at her she isn’t-”

“So fucking what if she doesn’t look uncomfortable? You can’t demand the details of something like that for no good god damn reason-”

“You know I have a good reason, you motherfucking asshole-”

“Sure!” he heard Marinette practically shout and-

Wait what?

“What?” Damian asked, interrupting Tim during their argument.

Marinette turned toward him while Todd slung an arm over her shoulder like they were best fucking friends or something. No they fuck they’re not. “Freckles here just agreed to spar with me!”

What.

She turned her head to look at him. “Freckles?”

What.

“It’s your nickname. ’Cause you’ve got Freckles.”

What the fuck is this fuckery?

Damian heard Drake stifle a laugh behind him. The bitch. Damian opened his mouth to argue or say something or stop this because what the fuck Todd but Drake beat him to it.

“Do you seriously want to duel her because she beat The Riddler?” Drake scoffed.

Damian wasn’t sure what he expected but that was disappointing regardless. What the fuck, Drake? Argue better than that!

“You wanted to question her because she solved his riddles!” Todd continued to try and defend the indefensible. “Plus-”

“Todd,” Damian hissed, because they needed to have a talk about not hurting hi- Marinette, it seemed.

“Yeah demon spawn?” Todd sounded fucking bored of all things.

Damian opened his mouth to start his argument when he was interrupted again – was it shit on Damian day today? – wait Marinette is talking-

“-I agreed to it,” she told him, her own beautiful eyes meeting his. “Plus, akuma are typically much larger than me anyway. It’s not like I’m going to break from someone as small as Jason!”

Damian blinked. His brothers laughed but he blinked and tensed a bit. What the hell does she mean akuma are typically bigger than- what are they? He assumed it was some type of gang and while it isn’t that hard to be bigger than his an- Marinette are they all as large as Jason? Larger? How many akuma are there? How much bigger are they? He forced his body to relax. He needed to focus on the now, research this akuma gang headed by a butterfly loving lunatic later.

“We have a gym down the hall,” Drake helpfully said. Todd was still giggling because he thought it was so fucking funny haha bitch. Damian continued to glare. It wouldn’t technically be murder if Todd were killed by a glare, right? Damian didn’t even have powers, so clearly it couldn’t have been him…

“Do you know your IQ?” Tim asked. Like a fucking creep with no concept of personal space or privacy Drake what the ever-loving fuck.

His a- Marinette was rightfully confused by the invasive question but instead of telling Drake to fuck off she was nicer and answered his question. “No, I don’t think I ever took the test.”

Damian was walking ahead of them with Todd to make sure he didn’t pull any funny business but seriously, bitch, mind your own business- “Do you have any measurement of your problem-solving skills?”

Damian didn’t murder anymore. Especially his brothers. Especially especially in front of his- an ang- Marinette. He was tense though, Todd gave him a *look* and he just glared more.

“My parents don’t like playing strategy games with me,” she seemed to be reminiscing something.

“You always win?” Drake asked. She nodded.

“Hey Timmy, stop holding Freckles up!” Todd called from where they were at the gym door.

“Alright, alright,” Drake grumbled. The other two sped up and soon entered the gym.

It was standard, smaller than the one he grew up using. The sparring mat was in the center, which was what Damian assumed Todd planned to use for this unnecessary battle.

Todd took off his jacket and took a position on the mat. Hi- Marinette followed suit, setting her purse near his jacket. When she took a position, it was off slightly.

Todd lunged, Marinette ducked his punch and maneuvered behind him, driving an elbow into his back. He dodged, barely, and went for a swipe under her feet.

She tripped, but he saw her maneuvering her fall so she wasn’t hurt.

Seems she wanted to end this early too.

“Well, that was fu-”

“You can do better than that!” Drake cried. “There’s no way that’s it.”

“Drake,” Damian grumbled. He should just let her lose if she wants! He knows Jason isn’t really trying either, none of them would really try on a civilian. He was still wor- god damn it.

Todd seemed to pause as if his brain needed to process the information like a slow computer. “Wait, you weren’t really trying?”

“I-” she hesitated, “What makes you think that wasn’t my best?”

“The Riddler is bad at combat,” Drake leaned against the wall acting like a fucking know it all bitch and seriously? “But he’s better than that. Why are you holding back?”

“She can hold back if she wants to,” Damian would really appreciate someone not being an idiot here.

“Jason wanted to see how good she is,” Drake retorted. “If she’s holding back, it’s like purposefully failing a test or losing a game!”

“No, it’s not!” Marinette responded hotly, almost… competitive?

“Why are you not trying to win, Freckles?” Todd asked. “This is sort of a competition.”

Damian saw something shift in his Angel’s demeanor… Seems she’s competitive too. He filed that information away.

She got up and assumed a better position. “Fine then,” she huffed.

Todd got into position and this time, she attacked first.

She went for a fake punch to the throat. He grabbed her fist to block and she grabbed onto his other hand to swing onto his shoulders. He attempted to pull her down with the hand she grabbed but she managed to remove it from his grip and grab it with her own.

“What the hell!”

Todd’s wrists were held by her. He didn’t shake her grip off him, though he could if he were trying. He was attempted to buck her off his shoulders, but Marinette’s legs wrapped around him too tight to be shaken off. As he struggled to get her to let go, she began to swing around to make him lose balance.

He didn’t have his arms to stabilize him or catch his fall. His bucking made his lack of balance worse, and with several curses, he began falling backward. Marinette let go of his trapped hands mid-fall flipped off him, somehow dodging his head.

When Todd landed face-first on the mat looking incredibly pathetic even if he could still win, she was there quick as lightning, pinning his arms behind him and his legs with her weight.

“I win,” she grinned.

Todd responded with more muffled curses.

She got off of him and helped him up. After he was standing, she glanced at him and Drake.

Drake’s mouth was open, being overdramatic again for no fucking reason, really it was cool to see a civilian do that though but that doesn’t mean Drake gets to be impressed!

“Holy hell what are they teaching you in Paris?” Todd grumbled, pupping his back.

Marinette bit her lip. “I’m sorry-”

“Why?” Todd asked. “I asked for you to fight me. This was fun even if I got a mouthful of matt.”

“Do you work out?” Drake asked, again with the questions!

“Not regularly,” she responded. “But my parents own a bakery and the flour bags are heavy. Plus, sometimes someone orders a huge cake, and those can get heavy too!”

Drake nodded, likely filing that information away to write some fucking biography on her because she’s oh so impressive for a civilian- she *is* but Drake can fucking leave her alone!

Todd spoke up because since he died he had a death wish. “Hey Demon Spawn, are you rebooting or something?”

Damian scrambled for an excuse, as I’m mentally murdering you and Drake is typically an unacceptable answer. No it wasn’t but he wouldn’t say that around his Ang- Marinette. “Apologies. I’m a bit surprised, as I didn’t see Marinette actually fight The Riddler, I didn’t know what she was capable of.”

“What?” Marinette seemed to snap out of a train of thought suddenly, “I’m sorry I zoned out.”

“You-“ are really impressive.

“He said you did a good job, Freckles,” Todd fucking interrupted him how dare he. But also thank you- god, this was all because of that fucking worry wasn’t it? Fucking god damn worry was poisoning his every thought and action.

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled.

“Okay since that’s over now,” Drake rubbed his hands together. “Marinette-”

“Please tell me none of you died,” Father walked in, surveying the room. “Huh. I’m surprised there isn’t any blood. Alfred told me you were sparring.”

“Jason decided to spar Damian’s girl-”

“Marinette,” Damian interrupted, she’s not his *girl* what the fuck, she’s his friend- “My friend Marinette.”

Bruce Wayne sees her for the first time and Marinette has to shake off the feeling of being analyzed.

“She’s the girl that punched Riddler in the throat,” Drake says unhelpfully.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” she goes to shake his hand. He takes it and shakes. Good, his father isn’t dead to him then. Alfred still has to make up for some shit.

“She won against Todd by the way,” Damian decided to add. Father stiffened a bit. They both knew Todd was going easy on her, but it was still interesting.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Father says. “Alfred wanted to invite you to stay for dinner.”

Since when was that a fucking thing? And *why*? What was Alfred’s fucking angle? Damian’s eyes narrowed. If he thought this would make it up to hi- shit she’s talking.

“-ze, but I must be returned to my class by five-thirty pm.”

“Uh, it’s four forty now,” Todd points out, “How long is the drive, Freckles?”

Marinette pales. “I should probably head back-”

“I’ll go with you,” Damian didn’t want to be around his brothers, he knew they’d find something to tease him about regarding Marinette. “Alfred can drive us if that is alright with you.” He was still the most trusted driver even if he’s currently dead to him right now.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” she smiled and Damian felt… oddly warm. Was he sick?. She turned to his brothers and father, “It was wonderful to meet you guys!”

“I’ll win the sparring match next time, Freckles,” Todd told her. Was he going to hold back less or something? He better fucking not.

Drake said something about another invasive idea for a test that Damian would deal with later, when he could use his sword. “You better come back,” he said out loud. Why the hell would he demand things of her?

“I’d love to return if I’m invited.”

“When,” he told her.

She managed to smile again. “When.”

At this rate, there wouldn’t be a fucking when if this shit happens every time.

They left the room and Alfred led them to the car. He allowed the silence as she didn’t appear to want to talk. Maybe she wanted to relax? He wasn’t sure, so he didn’t start a conversation. Was he overthinking things? Weedkiller, he’d get the fucking weedkiller soon...

“The brothers I met were nice,” she began to talk suddenly, she must want a conversation. “They seem annoying-”

“You can say that again,” he grumbled automatically.

“-but they seem like decent brothers,” she finished. “They’re fun people too.”

Damian shrugged. “Sometimes.” Like when he’s using them for target practice.

There was more silence. But now he’s thinking, well wondering? He’s thinking and wondering and-

“Do you have secrets?” he asked suddenly and Fucking fuck fuck he shouldn’t ask that what the fuck he was mad at Drake for the invasive questions real fucking hypocritical of him huh- “You don’t have to tell me, obviously, but you’re aware that there are things I’m not comfortable telling you yet and-”

“I have secrets,” she interrupted his fucking worried rambling he would kill the worry he swears. “Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

Oh. That… To earn enough of her trust like that… Damian smiled slightly, even if it felt foreign on his face. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wish to, Angel. It’s only fair that I give you what you’re giving me.”

Marinette grinned wide. “Thank you.”

Maybe he could get a bit more used to smiling, seeing a smile like that…

“We have arrived,” Alfred said from the front seat. Damian was shocked, glanced out the window and- oh, they have arrived… he was disappointed, but only in his inability to realize himself. Nothing else. Nothing. At all. Nothing.

He got out with her, and a moment of clumsiness seemed to overtake her. She tripped over Damian’s feet.

“Oh my- I’m so sorry,” her accent was heavier, she must be struggling to speak a second language while… embarrassed?

“It’s alright Angel,” he should try to soothe the embarrassment, right? Is that how that worked? She seemed tense as he helped her up, and she turned to face him and- is she alright?

“Is something wrong?” he was worried.

“I’m okay,” she said, brushing off her knees. “I used to fall like that all the time, but I’m okay, I promise.”

“If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I won’t.”

After some hesitation, she left. She walked back into the building, safe and unharmed. He got back into the car and Alfred drove them back to the manor.

oooOOOooo

It was easy to slip into the building unnoticed. Well, not unnoticed, the jester did kill the man behind the desk and leave him there. But he died with a smile on his face. They’d all die with a smile on their faces. And this would be fun for the jester too. the jester would have a lot of fun, so much fun, so much fun, a lot of so much fun you see…

The jester waited behind the desk with the lights off. Another girl was there. Not the one the jester wanted, no no not yet. But perhaps she’d join her little friend. The jester would get two. Have even more fun.

The jester grinned, hidden by the dark. But soon the jester wouldn’t be. And it would be so, so much fun.

#Damian Wayne #daminette #Damian al Ghul #Marinette #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #maribat #fic #fanfic #writing #my writing

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