#not that he couldn’t be a teen his blue/black suit cause I’d love that too

[krimsonwings]

I hope that, in light of his increased popularity because of the movie, that Miguel O’Hara shows up in more Spider-Man media. Like, outside of the Spider-verse movie trilogy.

I see him a lot in his white suit on random merch, usually in the background, but amongst Peter and Miles. Sometimes with Gwen and Anya too.

Marvel has had no problem de-aging characters for media purposes before. Peter has been aged up n down all over the place, and even Tony Stark has been de-aged for a cartoon before, so it’d be cool to see a younger Miguel heroing alongside Miles n Peter.

I could see a teen Miguel getting trapped in the past due to some plot-related future shenanigans. The implication of how he obtained his spider half would be more horrific since he’s younger, but that can be alluded to and left to fanfiction if needed. (But is important to his character and shouldn’t be removed or diluted!)

I just wanna see a teen Miguel having some fun with Peter n Miles (while still being our favorite sarcastic ass).

[starkexposition]

The Bachelor: Tony Stark Edition

Forced myself against my will, at gunpoint, to update this. Here it finally is.

Chapter 2: Electric Boogaloo

Rating: Teen/Mature, it's from college!Peter Parker's perspective Pairings: Tony/Steve, Tony/Strange, Tony/literally everyone, Happy/May, Peter/MJ, Peter/Black Cat, many token ships eventually Summary: One man. Twelve contestants. Several weeks in paradise. All through the horrified eyes of one sticky, adopted son.

“Mr. Stark…”

Most people have normal dreams.

“Can you hear me?”

Nice ones.

“It’s Peter.”

Weird ones.

“Hey.”

Bad ones.

“We won.”

Ones you forget.

“Mr. Stark…”

Or in my case, ones you wish you’d forget.

“We won, Mr. Stark.”

They say when you dream about a person, it’s because they’re dreaming about you, too.

“We won—you did it, Mr. Stark. You did it.”

That never explained why I kept dreaming about him when he was gone.

“I’m sorry, Tony.”

It was never different. Never had a different ending—never even a nightmare. Just the same weak eyes followed by the same labored breaths, every single dream. And each time, the woman who believed in him most would sit with him, hand held to his heart, and promise to him that everything would be okay. And with that, the man who never sleeps would find the peace to finally rest.

There was nothing like it. I had already been through my fair share by then—whether it was the plane crash, or Uncle Ben, or the girl that I loved… Mr. Stark was different. There was no regret, or blame; it was only the mission. The worst part about it was struggling with the selfish feeling that something had been taken away from me, all while balancing the pride that I felt in what he did for the whole universe—and most importantly, for the family that was built around him.

To us, it was a sacrifice. To Iron Man, it was a responsibility.

I guess that must be the reason it kept replaying in my dreams. It didn’t need amending because of the good that it caused, but hell—it kept coming back like a nightmare.

Even after he came back, most sleeps would end the same way: with everyone around us taking a knee for him as the air grew quiet in his passing, Captain Rogers would rise to his feet, place a hand on my shoulder, and say through watered eyes and a weakened smile:

“It was all for you.”

And with Pepper’s blessing, Steve would step forward and pick Tony up from where he laid, carefully carrying him back as Pepper, Rhodey, and myself would slowly walk alongside them.

Some nights, if I got lucky, I’d wake up before Steve’s words.

But not last night.

My brain managed to string out every last excruciating detail of the dream it possibly could in an effort to stay asleep and ignore the sound of repulsors powering down to a low hum beside me. But as they hovered nearby, the stinky air of New York was blown through the ventilation of my suit, which, unfortunately, can be stinky enough to wake you when you become aware of it. A figure took the place of the city’s rising sun, casting a shadow that darkened the scene and gifted me with my daily post-dream reminder...

“You know if you prefer this for your room and board situation, I’d be happy to take up the bill.”

Tony Stark lives.

Which is great. Quality of life really did improve when he came back—for myself, and others, too. Being adopted by him, however, kind of spiced things up a bit. From mentor to parent meant that I was proving myself to him from a parental standpoint, and that consequently resulted in me becoming far more relaxed with him. ‘Cause he’s kind of stuck with me now, you know?

But even in times like this particular morning, when I had a curfew the night before and had to get back to the house upstate by a certain time and specifically did not do so in favor of fighting crime and flirting with a kleptomaniac in a leather suit, I still don’t think I couldn’t be grateful for that fact even when I am abruptly woken from my slumber on a rusty fire escape in New York by Iron Man.

There was always something about those slitted glowing eyes in the faceplate that managed to relay the disappointment behind it so well.

“How’d you find me?” I asked as I kicked my leg up onto the platform, letting my eyes settle on the ladders above.

“Same way I always find you—” Beep-beep, beep-beep! Karen pulled up a GPS screen in my lenses that pinpointed my location, with an additional flashing blip for where the Iron Man suit was just a few feet away. “Installed another tracking device in your suit.”

I pulled off my mask and sat up quickly. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he gestured to me, his tone dripping with annoyance. “I don’t have time to play hide-and-go-seek in the alleys and dumpsters of New York every time I need you.”

“I have a phone.”

“That you don’t answer.” Tony then tossed over my backpack that was webbed up on the dumpster below. “You know, you could be sleeping on a fire escape in Cambridge right now.”

“MIT doesn’t have MJ—” Oof. Too quick there, Pete. “Or-or Ned. Or May. Or… you?”

The face plate turned to stare at me with slitted eyes once again, Mr. Stark tilting his head. “I thought you broke up with MJ.”

Of course, he won’t ignore it.

“We broke up,” I corrected him, even though that was also technically wrong, but he definitely did not need to know that. “Besides, we’re fine. We’re friends.”

“When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“Last week,” I told him, pulling the mask over my face again.

Mr. Stark stayed silent, faceplate staring into my soul with those narrowed eyes as he waited for me.

“Okay, fine,” I sighed, swinging down from the escape, “a month ago.”

I shot a web to the wall of the building across from us, and like that, we were en route home.

“Ouch.” Naturally, Mr. Stark’s voice came in through the suit itself while he traveled closely behind me. “That bad, huh?”

“Not really,” I lied. “And I mean, we did try the whole friend thing. That’s not gone. It’s just that… well, sometimes when you break up, it makes it a lot harder to stay broken up when you try to be friends right away, you know?”

“So…” He paused for a moment, as we turned a corner to Avengers Mansion. “You’re not friends?”

I landed on the walkway and pushed my way inside. “I stressed her out too much. I’m just giving her space.”

Mr. Stark’s suit was entirely gone by the time he followed me into the kitchen of the mansion. Making a beeline to the coffee, he raised an eyebrow at me as he pulled the pot and two mugs for the both of us, fixing mine up with sugar before he poured. “That must be easy for you at least.”

“Never said it was.” I informed him as I rummaged around the refrigerator for something, anything with sustenance… Bingo. Pizza. The only consistency that truly exists within the Avengers is the ability to almost always find leftover pizza in the fridge. “But is that stuff ever really easy?”

“Well…” Tony’s voice raised suggestively as he circled around the counter and took a sip of his coffee. “It sure seems like it is now that you’ve got yourself a feline to keep you company.”

I came to a halt, cold pizza at my lips. “Seriously? I’m not talking about this with you.”

Tony cackled, sipping his coffee as he slipped from the kitchen to the elevator, finger pressed on the ‘open door’ button as he waited for me to gather my pizza and coffee to join him. Moments later, we were entering his workshop, which was remarkably as cluttered as I had seen it last. He walked through slowly, moving papers and hardware around to organize the place and put away his projects reluctantly, and each time he seemed lost in thought, staring at some weird looking, half-dismantled device, he would take a sip from his coffee before making his decision on what to do with whatever it was he was holding.

“All packed?” He asked as he pulled the mug from his lips, tossing something into the trash.

I gripped the mask in my hands and turned away from him to face one of the blueprints on the wall, pretending to read it. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Good,” he said. He stopped at the door to his office and looked at me with expectant eyes. “Well? Get dressed so we can go home.”

Before I could even turn away, the door to his office was shut behind him, the blue glow of his holograms flashing through the opaque glass of his office doors and windows. Whatever it was he was working on must not have required too much attention, as he was waiting impatiently for me by his car in the mansion’s garage only a few minutes later, toes tapping the ground while he leaned against the hideously orange supercar.

“Really?” I asked. “This one again?”

His eyes perked up over the rim of his glasses, eyebrows shooting up in offense. “Would you rather walk?”

I shook my head and walked over to the passengers side with Mr. Stark moving out of the way to the driver’s door. “I just think—” I got in, stuffing my bag by my feet, “—you could spice it up sometime. Maybe you could go red next. Or a matte black… now, that’d be nice. All electric, so smooth. Stealthy. It’d be great.”

Tony sat beside me, buckling his belt as he looked at me in disbelief again, “I’m sorry, can you even drive?”

I stared at him and waited for him to realize, but he just stared back. “I’m 19,” I reminded him.

“And?” He said as he started the car and drove closer to the garage door, allowing it to open automatically at his approach. “You never drive anywhere.”

His gaze looked past me then, encouraging mine to follow, and we both looked at the gray Audi that sat on the far right end of the mansion’s garage collecting dust. I looked back at Tony, ready to defend myself and my apparent preference for swinging as my primary mode of travel, but he just grinned and floored it, pulling us away from the mansion, the city, and to upstate New York.

* * *

Saturday nights at the Stark Residence meant one thing: family dinner. It wasn’t required, obviously, since most weekends I couldn’t make it home, and even if I could, I usually chose to not to, as I was 19, in college, had homework, Ned, and was constantly in an internalized battle of wanting to win my ex-girlfriend back and my unexplained desire to spend an unusual amount of time around one of my more recent torments in life:

Felicia Hardy.

And if I’m honest, I’ve probably spent more of my Saturday nights playing cat and mouse with Felicia than I have been doing homework or playing games with Ned. Only thing is, lately it has seemed more like she’s the cat and I’m the mouse—appropriate, since she is the Black Cat and all—despite that I have almost always been in pursuit of her. But my naivety always manages to lead me into falling for her traps and doing whatever it might be that she had planned for me—which, of course, almost always results in me failing to “catch” her.

What a shame.

Of course, that does exclude all of those nights where I did catch up to her. On the rooftops, quips and riddles, jabs and flirts, and the few times I got lucky enough for her to lift my mask up just enough to leave a…

How did I get started on Felicia again?

Right. Family dinners. Instead of seeing her. Just a prelude to the next few months. Did I even remember to say goodbye?

Sigh.

Anyway. Family dinners.

The only night of the week we managed to get (mostly) everyone together. Between Stark Industries and some Avengers work for Tony (remotely, of course, since the man really can’t help himself), Morgan in school and clubs, the vast Morgan Babysitting Unit (Rhodey, Maria Hill, Aunt May, and Happy mostly) trading off the rascal throughout the week, and of course, whatever Happy and May got up to in their free time (don’t remind me), Saturdays were usually the one time in the week that everyone tried their best to set aside for visiting with each other. You know, for Tony’s sake. While the ladies, including Tony’s new personal assistant, Charlotte, would split a bottle of wine as Happy and May cooked the meal together—Italiano, as they introduced it this particular time—the rest would buzz around the house, catching up on the week’s events and sharing laughs like a normal family would.

Normal.

Of course, with it being my first time home for dinner in a few months, most of the attention was on me during the meal—as Mr. Stark cleverly directed it to be, in an effort to avoid talking about the obvious circus that was set to begin the following day—with Rhodey and Maria mainly prying at me for school and hero related questions, but they were sure to cover every topic in the book, like the one I was hoping to avoid.

Girls.

Or, more specifically, MJ.

It took me going from my typical sarcasm to getting quiet and frustrated when the questions persisted for the conversation to finally fizzle out, bringing our dinner party to an end. Rhodey stood up from his seat beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it in understanding, as he grabbed his plate to leave. Everyone, apart from myself and May, began to disperse with him, heading to the kitchen with their empty plates.

I lifted a rogue spaghetti noodle above my face and caught it in my mouth between my tongue and teeth as Aunt May poured herself another glass of wine. She looked up at me as I practically inhaled the noodle, eyes slimming into an unamused look as she stared at me over the rim of her glass.

“This is our last dinner together for a while and you’re not even gonna use your manners?” She tilted her head, hair sliding down from her shoulder.

I made a face and shook my head, reaching for the spoon in the pan. “Not when it’s spaghetti night,” I shrugged in refusal, dumping a small second serving on my plate.

May eventually followed in suit, her eyes nervously checking up on me again and again. With a breath and returned eye contact, I braced myself for the inevitable questions—

“You’re all packed?”

“Yes.”

“Have your passport?”

“Yes.”

Her face fell and she leaned forward, brows furrowing in worry. “… Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Of course not,” I said. “It was my idea to begin with.”

She lowered her voice. “I mean for Tony.”

“Well, why not?”

Aunt May stared at me for a couple seconds, noodles sliding off her fork back onto the plate. “I don’t know, he just… you know, this is a lot of publicity for someone who, you know… was dead—”

“—in a coma—”

“—less than a year ago,” May let out a sigh, her shoulders sinking. “Do you have to get technical with me?”

I set my fork down and sat back in my seat, biting my lip in frustration. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Tony’s been back for, what? Seven months?” She crossed her arms.

“Publicly, yes, and it’s not like he really kept it much of a secret before that, anyway,” I said, crossing my arms back. “He’s been alive for almost two years. A lot can happen in two years. A person can grow.”

She let out another sigh of concern. “And you don’t think all of this is too much for him?”

“He’s two years old. Of course not,” I said, dropping another noodle into my mouth. “I was ready for that kind of attention when I was his age.”

“Peter…”

“Wasn’t I?”

“Peter.”

“Listen,” I sighed, “he agreed to it at his own risk. Besides, no matter what he does, publicity will follow. He knew this ahead of time. That’s why he waited until his rehab was over—he wanted to be ready. And if he says he’s ready…”

Her eyes looked over her glasses’ frames at me. “We both know he’s not ready.”

“You know, this might actually be good for him,” I offered. “A good way for him to kinda get back in it, you know? It’s like a nice, long vacation with a bunch of pretty people gawking over him. I honestly don’t see the problem with it.”

“A bunch of pretty people trying to use him for his money, maybe,” she started picking at her food again.

“That’s the life he always used to live, May. Which is why I think it could be good for him. Might teach him to have fun again—you know, center him,” I sat up in my chair again, picking up my fork and stuffing my face with more noodles. “Plus,” I said through chewing, “it’s good promotion.”

“Promotion for what?”

“I don’t know, really,” I swallowed my food at her look of distaste. “Something to do with clean something something. Something for the planet. Or something. He was talking about it with those fancy people from the network out at dinner the other night.”

“And you didn’t listen?”

I wound up more pasta and took another bite. “No, why would I?”

Aunt May stopped her movements and stared at me for a moment before continuing to scoop up the noodles. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’re gonna need for the trip?”

“Positive,” I smiled.

“Alright,” she let out a sigh, “if you say so.”

I smirked a bit, and took another bite full. “Are you sure you’re gonna make it that long without me?”

She took a small piece of a noodle from her plate and chucked it at me. “Zip it, you. I’ll be fine.”

I peeled the noodle from my cheek and looked at it. “Man, Aunt May… Nice aim—” And with that, I launched the noodle back at her.

By the time Morgan and I had finished clean up duty, with me washing the dishes and her wiping down the table with a cloth I gave her, the adults had migrated to the lounge with another bottle of wine, loud chatter and laughter filling up the air around them. Tony was off with Charlotte, going over a checklist with her to ensure that he had everything he needed for the trip before our departure in the morning. I stopped Morgan before she headed upstairs, holding a finger to my lip to keep her quiet as I pulled the freezer door open for her, and before we knew it, we were sneaking upstairs to our rooms with a popsicle in Morgan’s hand and snacks in my own.

The crinkling noise a bag of potato chips makes as you open it is one of the most satisfying noises in the world. Especially in the safety of your own home—unabashedly opening up a new bag without holding back to muffle any sounds. Just that sweet, sweet tearing noise as the smell of greased up, salty potatoes fills your nostrils and momentarily takes the place of that super sweet tub of Ben & Jerry’s beside you. One plus about upgrading to a king sized bed is finally having the room to keep your food beside you as you lie there—it’s a great way to be lonely without entirely feeling lonely. For the most part. Except when you remember that you’re eating an whole pint of ice cream entirely by yourself, because that’s when it starts to hit you that you���re actually, seriously doing this and you really shouldn’t be—

“Really, Pete?”

I looked up from my snacks as I pulled out an earbud, my eyes meeting the unamused eyes of my father. “What?” I asked.

He closed the door behind himself as he walked closer, crossing his arms. “We just picked those up for the flight tomorrow and you’re already eating them?”

“I was hungry,” I told him before grabbing another chip.

“You’re supposed to be getting everything ready,” he grumbled.

“I am,” I said, pointing the chip towards the half-zipped suitcase on the floor, with shirt sleeves and socks and pants sticking out the sides… Well. I tried. “Over there.”

His gaze followed my potato chip to the suitcase and he walked over to it, opening it up to see the jumbled mess of clothes that I neatly tossed into the suitcase from my closet—which, mind you, was already half packed from the last field trip we took in school a month ago. Clever, I know. I mean, half of the clothes were dirty anyway, and a lot of them I just grabbed from my floor… so really, most of them were at least a smidgen dirty. Probably, like, 90% of them were dirty. But none of that really mattered, you see, because we are staying in an actual house while we’re there, and real houses always have washers and dryers, right?

Right?

That didn’t quite matter any longer either, as my father’s eyes fell into that absolutely terrifying “disappointed” look that I was unfortunately seeing a lot of as of late. But just as he went to close it, his eyes widened at the sight of something else and he knelt down to tug on a piece of cloth.

A red piece of cloth. And blue. And black. That turned out to be more than just a piece of cloth. And that was suddenly being dangled in my face for a split second before it was folded over my father’s arm.

“No suit,” his stern voice rang through the room as he turned back towards the door.

My eyes widened as I jumped from my bed, almost knocking over my ice cream, and I followed him out. “What do you mean ‘no suit’? I can’t just go away for that long without it—”

He opened the door, looking back at me. “And is that seriously how you’re taking care of this thing?” He pushed through, lifting the suit to his nose. “God, Pete, it smells…”

“Dad,” I pleaded, “I can’t leave without it.”

“Seriously. When’s the last time you sent Hap to get this thing dry-cleaned?” He turned back to look in my room, pointing at the suitcase as the door swung shut. “By the way, pal, one half-assed packing job isn’t gonna cut it. We’ll be gone the whole summer. Pack accordingly.”

I stopped in the hall as he continued up it with the suit still slung around his arm. “Dad, please,” I begged.

He began walking backwards, a smirk plastered to his lips. “No can do, kiddo,” he said. “You’re not supposed to work while you’re on vacation.”

And with that, he was gone, spending the rest of his evening with the usual entourage before they headed out to Happy’s place for the night.

I didn’t notice myself falling asleep. I wasn’t planning on it either—I don’t think I ever even rested my head for a second. But there I was; it was one o’clock, N64 fan roaring, half-eaten pint of ice cream melting accompanied by an opened bag of potato chips, and I had fallen asleep, controller still in hand. I peeled myself out of bed slowly, grabbing the snacks and heading downstairs to put them away in their respective places. As I was sealing away the tub of ice cream in the freezer, I noticed the door to the workshop downstairs slightly propped open, a faint glow coming from it and the distant voice of FRIDAY.

Curiosity killed the cat, right? Wish me luck.

Ever-so-thankful for my powers, I creaked the door open quietly and jumped up to the ceiling, slowly crawling down the spiral staircase until I finally reached the workshop. Everything was dark and put away apart from the desk, where Tony sat in his rolling chair, staring up at the blue holograms projected around him.

As though his breath had been hitched in his lungs for a long while, Tony let out a sharp sigh as he let go of his frozen stature, leaning forward in his seat. “Alright FRIDAY,” he pulled a pen from his desk and started scribbling on a piece of paper, “run the scans.”

“Certainly, boss,” FRIDAY said, and the holograms began pulling up hundreds, thousands—hell, even millions of files of footage. “Scanning all known devices now.”

Tony sat back in his seat again, jaw clenched in fear as hopeful eyes watched the projections around him. A sigh escaped his lips as he watched FRIDAY sort through the files, hurt filling the contortions of his face and… That’s when I noticed him.

How had I missed him?

“Come on,” Tony prayed, his eyes daring to well up into tears. “Come on, Cap.”

As files were sorted, discarded or scanned again and again, the screen running through images and clips so fast it hardly even flashed with the changes, the files were compared to an image presented to the right of them, none of them matching up with with the familiar head of blond hair that was almost damn near waiting for a match.

Years later, and Tony Stark was still searching for Steve Rogers.

I guess it sort of came as a surprise to me. He didn’t talk about Cap very often. If he did, it was usually short lived—it was never really something he chose to dwell on. And anytime someone tried to bring him up, he never spoke of their time together like it had the weight that I knew it did—like they were just some old buddies back in the day, and that was it. With everything going on in his life, I guess I just assumed he was a bit forced to move on from it.

Then again, when Tony came back—which, mind you, will forever be the most shocking moment of my entire life—one of the first things he asked about was Steve. Just to know if where he was… if he was okay. I was the one who told him he was gone, that he had brought the stones home, and was never to return.

He gave me a small nod when I told him, eyes drifting away from me, as he forced out a quiet, “okay, then.”

And that was it. That was all he ever asked about him. After he quickly regained his composure, Pepper ushered him away to get him some nourishment until they both finally decided it was time to wake Morgan up to see him again after seven long months apart.

I always wondered if Captain Rogers would have stayed if he knew Tony was coming back.

I guess that was part of the tragedy, wasn’t it? How could anyone have known that by some miracle he would come back? I hadn’t, Pepper hadn’t, nor did Rhodey, or Morgan, or Happy. There was no way Captain Rogers would have predicted that, either. He, like the rest of us, altered his life accordingly.

But if he got the chance to see what I was seeing, would he come back?

“I’m sorry, boss,” FRIDAY said solemnly. “The scans were unsuccessful.”

I suppose we’d never know.

Tony sat still, defeat stealing whatever energy he had left in him, as he tried desperately to understand the holograms before him. He stared for what felt like ages, breathing through the frown on his lips, swallowing back his guts here and there whenever he needed it. Finally, his eyelashes fluttered as he looked away from what was before him, energy joining him once again to neaten his paperwork. “Well, then,” he forced out, “let’s wrap it up for a while, shall we?”

He stood from his desk, picking up a mug of cold coffee and bringing it to his lips as he turned and started walking away, papers still in hand. He walked to a cabinet, dropping the papers into a file as he slowly lowered the mug, swallowing back his thoughts with his coffee.

“Would you like me to keep an open scan going while you’re gone?” FRIDAY inquired.

Tony’s eyes broke from wherever they had drifted, running in my direction on their way to look at the hologram—

Uh oh.

I managed to scurry back right as his head stopped its movement, hiding out of sight before his eyes flickered back over in my direction.

“Yeah,” he agreed. Footsteps. “Let me know if you find anything on your radar.”

Goose bumps. Skin tingling. Danger. Danger. Danger. I don’t think I’ve ever crawled on a ceiling faster than I did, barely making it to the door in time to leave it cracked where it was before he noticed it. It was faster to go out through the porch and up through my window than it was to run through that maze of a house, and I still only made it just in time to get under the covers before my father cracked open my door to check if I was sleeping. The pixelated N64 screen and controller by my hand was seemingly convincing enough, as he turned out the rest of my lights and left me to sleep.

* * *

To be honest, I wasn’t the most excited person when I realized that being adopted by Tony Stark also meant moving off to some cabin in the deep woods of upstate New York. The whole farm life thing never exactly appealed to me the way it did others, I guess. I was perfectly fine with living just a block away from my favorite hoagie joint, a couple blocks down from my best friend, the same part of town as the girl I sorely wanted back, and you know, the same city as the college that I attended daily. The drives back and forth from campus whenever I actually did make my way home only started to get better when I was actually doing them on my own, but they were still painfully long when Ned wasn’t able to join me for a weekend. And when your only entertainment for an entire weekend (or even week) is a six-year-old who is particularly obsessed with outsmarting you, Happy Hogan, and a video game that you somehow manage to fall asleep to while playing pretty much every night as of late, life can get pretty lonely up in the boonies.

Still, there was something to be said about waking up surrounded by nature instead of the city.

You’d be surprised as to just how calming it is for the morning sun’s glow to slowly enter your room, birds chirping in the trees outside your windows, wind chimes twinkling as a soothing voice peacefully rings throughout the four walls of your room…

“Everybody was kung fu fighting—” I don’t think I could have slapped my alarm any faster.

I attempted at covering my head with a pillow to block out the light, but the disturbance of voices downstairs disrupted my Sunday morning a bit early again—although this time, the voices seemed to amount to more of a crowd.

Great.

“Peter, your father will be arriving at your door in fifteen seconds,” Karen warned, lights brightening in my room as I hopped from my bed, placing in my earbuds. Like clockwork, the door creaked open as I paced my room in an effort to make myself seem busy.

“Pete.”

I pulled an earbud from my ear and glanced up at my father before heading to my closet. “You know, you should try knocking sometime.”

Mr. Stark trailed into my room behind me nonchalantly, looking around at the mess spread across the room as he picked up notebooks from my bed and placed them on my desk. “You say that like your alarm didn’t go off two minutes ago.”

“So?” I picked up the notebooks and moved them to my pile of schoolwork. “You never know—I could have been changing.”

He stopped in his tracks, his gaze tracing up to mine with a single eyebrow cocked up in disbelief. “Really?”

“What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but pajamas before two on a weekend.” He forced back a smile. “Besides, my point stands, you weren’t doing anything embarrassing. Which, by the way—”

“—that’s not my point—”

“—what exactly was it that you were doing?” He turned on his heel, looking around my room. “And what is that smell? Garbage? Gym clothes? Dirty sheets?”

“Dad.”

“When’s the last time you changed your sheets?”

“Dad.”

“Can we get some windows open in here?”

“Of course,” Karen complied, the panel windows rotating open on command, the sound of the leaves following the breeze that filled the room.

“Much better,” he exhaled.

I collapsed on my bed again, then, placing the earbud back in my ear. “Do you always have to act like something died in here when you enter my room completely uninvited?”

“I’m saving your skin, you know. May is downstairs and if she smelled whatever’s going on in here, you’d have a much bigger problem on your hands.”

I jolted up in horror. “May? What is May still doing here—”

“I invited her,” he stated simply. “For Happy’s sake. Surprise.”

I scowled. “Don’t encourage them.”

“Which reminds me, where are your bags?”

“Bags?” My eyes then drifted to the very same suitcase from the night prior, just as untouched, half-full, and dirty as it was the last time my father told me to work on packing it.

My father followed my sight and immediately let out a sigh, his back to me, and I just knew the face that he was about to hit me with before he even managed to turn around. And then he did.

Here we go.

The look of unsurprised disbelief with a flavor of sheer, utter annoyance as his eyes rolled up to the ceiling.

Personally, this was my favorite look of disappointment from him. His “shocked” face that I always seem to get whenever I prove time and time again that he really should stop having any sort of faith in me being able to do anything that is not Avenger, homework, or video game. I mean, it’s only fair. To the both of us, really.

He finished his eye roll, those disappointed eyes falling to mine before he finally headed to the door. “Get dressed and be down in five. Say hi to the crew quickly and then please finish packing. We can’t be late for this.”

“We’re leaving today?”

“Seriously?” He was out the door in seconds, calling back, “How on earth are you more like me than I am like me these days?”

I jumped from my bed and grabbed a t-shirt that was folded on the top of my dresser, pulling it over my head as followed Mr. Stark down the hall, door clicking shut behind me. “How long until we leave?” I asked, catching up to him on the stairs.

“Around an hour.” He muttered, head tilting towards mine. “You definitely did not get dressed that quickly.”

“I’m not going in there alone,” I told him.

He halted about half-way down, looking me up and down in my sweatpants and Midtown gym shirt. His lips flattened into a line, the look of annoyance returning to his face. He then unbuttoned his suit jacket, turned, and shrugged. “Fine.” And as we finished our trek down the stairs, he expanded his arms grandly, cleared his throat, and projected an embarrassingly loud, “Everyone—Peter has finally decided to join us!”

Every pair of eyes in the room fell to mine.

… I brought this upon myself.

It was barely seconds before the only person from ABC that I actually recognized managed to catch my attention—and yes, there was, once again, a gray hair sitting intrusively on the blazer.

“Peter!” She exclaimed, peeling her way through the group to shake my hand. “Are you excited for the next few months?”

“Sure,” I offered, my eyes drifting from hers in search of Aunt May. I looked back at her, squinting a bit as I studied her face. “I’m sorry, I’m forgetting your name.”

“Nellie Freeman,” she reminded me. “I’m one of the producers for The Bachelor.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded my head. The whole bullshitting portion of this thing was already wearing on me, and I was only about… a sentence and a half into it. And it was obvious, as a rather awkward look of concern started to form on her face. “Look, I’m going to be honest with you, Ms. Freeman,” I sighed, slouching a bit. “I just rolled out of bed. I really just came down here for food before I get ready to leave.”

Nellie nodded then, stepping aside. “You should probably focus on that, Peter. And please, call me Nellie.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll find the chance to talk later, alright?” She said, clutching her mimosa close to her hair-intruding blazer.

I nodded, turning to make my way to the kitchen. “Okay, Ms. Freeman.”

And with that, I was free, and doing one of my favorite past times: rummaging the refrigerator for food. And as I rolled out each and every tray, drawer, compartment, searching high and low for just a little bit of cream cheese, I felt a very gentle tug at the hem of my shirt. I paused, raising my eyebrows to look down at the very soft, yet expectant face of a six-year-old, a small smile playing at her lips.

“Hi,” she said.

“Good Morgan,” I greeted her, stifling a laugh as she let out her usual giggle. “Staying out of trouble so far?”

“I need your help,” she said. She then waved for me to get close, so I did, crouching down and offering my ear to her. She cupped her hands, leaning close to whisper. “Can I have some of your root beer?” She asked, pulling back with an innocent look on her face.

“Maguna,” I sighed, turning towards her totally. “You do realize it’s still morning, right?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“And that our father is right on the other side of that wall?”

She nodded again. “Yes.”

I raised my eyebrows again, pointing in the direction of our living room. “And that if he catches me giving you root beer at seven in the morning without asking his permission, he’ll get very mad at me?”

“Yes,” she said, this time with a single, big nod.

“I don’t know, kiddo,” I told her, standing up and pulling a bottle of root beer from the fridge, “not sure if it’s worth the punishment.”

She tapped my arm this time, tugging at my shirt afterwards. “Please?”

“Hmm,” I looked between my sister and the bottle of root beer in my hands. “Are you ready to leave yet?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” I set the bottle on the counter, along with the bagels and cream cheese, closing the fridge and crouching back down to meet her height. “Go on up to my room, then. I’ll bring some up to you when I finish getting my breakfast and you can play Mario Kart while I pack.”

And for the last hour that we spent in our home for the time being, my sister and I kept sanctuary up in my room, with Morgan sprawled out on my bed, trying to make sense of an N64 controller as I coached her on how to take out Bowser as revenge for his ruthless attack on her Luigi. My bags were carelessly tossed together in a matter of minutes, suit staying tucked away underneath heaps of clothes, and my Playstation carefully wrapped (and hidden) in clothes in my second suitcase, zipped away until further notice. I had bravely ventured downstairs to grab the next round of root beers, and the two of us were able to stay far away from any parental units paroling the household for the remainder of the hour—shocking, since Morgan’s got quite the big mouth when it comes to video games.

Packing the vans for our departure to the airport wasn’t chaotic until the rest of the black-blazer-with-a-stray-strand-of-gray-hair-obtrusively-standing-out-and-distracting-me-once-again people from ABC arrived. It went from packing up the car for a nice family vacation to me pretty much being sent up to my room to pack yet another whole bag with all of the items on their list of things that I had to bring for my “wardrobe” that I didn’t know were “required” for my nice, lovely, family vacation. And then came the labeling of each and every bag—which, of course, followed their security check of each and every bag.

That’s right. They brought security for us.

I know.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure the ridiculousness of checking Iron Man for safety threats was the tipping point of my sanity, so by about eight o’clock, I was lying in the middle of the driveway and tossing a rock up into the cloudy sky. At some point, Mr. Stark’s hand suddenly reached out and caught it and he looked down at me with a tired smile.

“You ready?”

I raised my eyebrows and caught the rock as my father dropped it. “Did my background check already make it in?”

“Funny,” he rolled his eyes as he reached down to grab my hand, pulling me up. “You should be praying that they don’t find it.”

“What do you mean?” I laughed, picking my backpack up from the curb as I followed him up the driveway to the big, black, spy-like SUVs. “Peter Parker is as threatening as Happy when he falls asleep on the couch after Thanksgiving dinner.”

His hand rested on my back as he guided me to an open door in one of the SUVs. “Have you read your high school disciplinary record?”

“No. That’s your job,” I grinned at him as I climbed in and slid to the end, grabbing the buckle.

“Yeah,” Mr. Stark’s eyes widened at the thought as he got in his seat beside me. “And your poor Aunt May’s.”

“Well, she knows about the whole… you know… Spidey thing, now, so it’s fine,” I said, shrugging. “I’m sure it explains a lot.”

Happy’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “Yeah,” he grumbled. “Wait until you can’t use that excuse this summer.”

My jaw fell only slightly as I let out a chuckle. “No, no—not an excuse. I won’t need it, anyway. No suit, no hero antics, no need for doing anything absolutely stupid.”

Happy’s eyes looked up again in the mirror as he stopped at the end of our driveway. “The suit isn’t what causes you to be stupid.”

And with another small, Pikachu gasp escaping my lips and laughter bellowing from Aunt May and the man beside me, the window rolled up slowly, separating him and May from myself, Morgan, and our dad for the rest of the ride to the city.

The car ride inbound was far more easy-going than the last long one we had heading outbound, on our way home from my grand, very belated ‘adoption party’, where this whole Bachelor thingy began. I was silent, overwhelmed, sort of regretting the amount of root beer that I had consumed.

I think, like, five glasses, maybe? Full glasses, too. Like the big ones, not the little scotch glasses. All five, sitting in my stomach over every pothole and rock we ran over.

“Come to think of it, Pete, I didn’t really see you much tonight. Was it the nerves? Too many people?”

I nodded assuringly. “Too many people. Definitely.”

He eyed me in suspicion and then let out a sigh. “Listen, Pete. Don’t let this whole… moving into a multi-billionaire’s million dollar lakeside New York mansion thing scare you into thinking you have to respect me any better.”

“I think,” I narrowed my eyes as I stared at him in confusion, “I think just saying that… does?”

“What I’m trying to say is now that I’m officially your father and you’re officially my son, that weird, politeness type of respect isn’t necessary anymore,” he went on, looking forward at the street as Happy drove their car back to their home. “If anything, you should respect me less.”

“I feel like this is a test,” I told him.

“It is and it isn’t,” he grinned to himself. “Just be a normal kid, alright? No more Mr. Starks, no more asking permission for every single little thing. Just ask permission sometimes, when it’s necessary. And don’t call me ‘dad’ while wearing your suit. That’s when you call me ‘Mr. Stark’. Got it?”

And that was it. I’ll be honest, the whole transition from “Mr. Stark” to “Dad” hasn’t exactly been easy, but I think I’ve got it down.

For the most part.

Happy took a sharp turn then, breaking my thoughts as we went off of our course to the airport. “Sorry,” he shouted from the front seat.

“Mr. Stark…?” I muttered, staring out the windows in confusion. I looked at him and he raised an eyebrow expectantly. I realized my mistake but refused to correct it, staring back at him with my own eyebrows raised expectantly as the SUV pulled to a stop in front of the mansion, film crews piling out of one of the vans ahead. “What’s going on?”

“Showtime—” was all he said, before jumping out of the vehicle and heading over to the makeup artists, who, of course, swarmed him.

It was going to be a long summer. And it was only April.

The beauty of college was that the summer typically began in May, anyway, and with some teeth-pulling trips home away from the hyperactive, crime-filled city, I was able to set aside blocks of time to get my work done early in an effort to finish my semester earlier than most. I must say—midterms and finals all within two weeks of each other were not exactly the highlight of my college career so far, but finishing the semester by the start of April in exchange for an extended summer was pretty worth it.

Apart from the makeup brushes that were suddenly advancing on my face.

“Wait—” I held up my hands in defense, waving the brushes away. “No, no—not me, not my thing. I’m fine with—you know,” I gestured toward my face, “this.”

“It’s for lighting,” one of the artists argued.

“And that,” I said, slinging my backpack over my shoulder, “is what editing is for. Tell Ms. Freeman I said that.”

Like clockwork, Nellie Freeman ran towards me, calling my name. “Peter!” She said, excitedly, “Go on over to your father. Share a laugh with him.”

Share a laugh?

I was guided over to where he was and before I knew it, cameras were pointed at us in all directions as Mr. Stark put an arm around me and looked at me to chat, pointing to me. “Are you ready?” He asked, charming smile flashing on his face.

“No,” I said, forcing a smile, trying hard not to look at the camera. “How long do I have to do this?”

“Entire summer,” his smile grew proud.

My face fell.

“Remember, this was all your idea,” he let out a laugh then, and it was apparently enough to satisfy the cameras.

Worst moment of my life.

So far.

As a small part of the crew followed me around the front of the mansion—which, I had inferred was for their introduction to the show, as they were filming numerous angles of the mansion itself, as well as our family by the gates out front, and even a small moment of Tony driving out of the garage in yet another hideously orange supercar—the sound of a small explosion a couple blocks over rumbled through the streets. Myself and the camera people with me, who happened to be closest to the noise, all turned in fear as cop cars zipped up the street towards whatever it was.

My heart pounded a bit as the adrenaline came through my body with my senses and I looked at the crew urgently, “You should probably go distract Iron Man before you lose camera time with him.”

They took my advice.

Barely a minute later, I was in my suit, swinging through the streets of New York City.

Standard bank robbery: getaway car at the corner of the block waiting in drive, hold up in the lobby of the bank, gunmen standing guard outside, and my favorite—two pyromaniacs blowing a hole in the alleyway wall to gain outside access to the vault.

Minutes later, the vault guys were webbed to the brick walls of the alley, the gunmen were knocked out and webbed up, the two guys holding up inside were webbed together in a nice, snug hug, and the getaway car was stopped mid movement by me mere seconds after I had webbed up its passengers to street lights in their escape.

A standard day in New York City for Spider-Man.

Man, I was going to miss it. Genuinely. It was a hobby as much as it was a passion and a responsibility. It had its perks, of course, but swinging through the city, stopping to fight whatever crime was impending, and then getting back into the air moments later just to return to whatever I was doing, or like in many cases, to the backpack I webbed up to a dumpster in an alleyway a block away from the mansion. I undressed from my suit as quickly as possible and got back in the clothes I was wearing before, stuffing the suit into my backpack—

Spider sense. Spider sense. Behind you, Peter—Peter. Peter. Peter.

I turned quickly to see an old bearded man standing at the end of the alleyway by the sidewalk, staring at me as I stuffed the spider suit into my backpack.

I felt my cheeks burning red as the man just watched. “It’s not what it looks like, I promise,” I smiled nervously. “I just found it in the dumpster. It’s probably—it’s probably not even real.”

The old man let out a chuckle, approaching me slowly. “It’s okay, Peter,” he said with a smile. “You don’t need to worry.”

I froze in that moment, movements halted as I registered the voice and the way it said my name—yes. My name.

My name?

“How did you…” I trailed off as the main presented a large pouch to me, reluctantly taking it from him. I stared at the pouch and then up to those old, tired, glistening eyes. “Are you one of the wizards?”

“No,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “You might wanna grab a lab kit for that before you leave, by the way.”

And that was how my Breaking Bad career took off.

Kidding. Sort of. Hopefully. All that was in the bag from what I could tell was some old rusty gear and tech and a few pieces of paper to accompany the items. I looked up from the bag and back at the old man, who just watched with a pair of what seemed to be proud eyes.

I stared at him for a moment, trying to make sense of the familiarity in his eyes. “Who are you?”

The man’s face fell slightly for a moment and he placed a hand on my shoulder, dipping his head down a bit as he blinked slowly, lips curling into a smile once again. “You’ll see.”

The sound of repulsors taking off echoed through the streets, followed by the sound of flight, and both myself and the old man turned in its direction, looking up to the sky as Iron Man appeared over the rooftop.

He hovered there for a moment, silence dripping between us for a split second, before he finally let out a confused, “Pete?”

I widened my eyes. “I can explain,” I started, stepping towards him, “You see, I was helping this nice gentleman over here and—”

He flew passed me to where the man was, but as I turned around with him, the old man was gone.

Tony landed in his place, stepping towards the sidewalk slowly and looking around. “It doesn’t make sense…”

Okay, Peter. Time to be honest. I took a deep breath, “Well, to be honest, there was an explosion up the block, and it turned out to be a huge bank robbery, so I kind of had to step in and—”

“I said no suit.” He stated bluntly, but he was still distracted by our surroundings.

“I know. It’s just—it’s hard,” I confessed. “I’m sorry.”

Tony was silent in response; he was evidently listening to Friday as opposed to me, focusing in on whatever it was they were examining in the alleyway. Moments passed in silence, before he finally let out a sigh, “Alright, let’s go. We have a flight to catch.”

He lifted me from the ground, returning us to our group at the mansion a couple blocks over, cameras and all. The obligatory clips of the Iron Man suit removing itself from Tony that ABC insisted on filming bought me enough time to sneak into the mansion and snag one of the lab kits we had set aside for missions. I was able to slip it into the SUV by the time Tony finished with his numerous close-ups with the film crew.

The remainder of our morning once we actually arrived at the airport was just that. Cameras, interviews, weird filmed moments where we all chatted about absolutely nothing in an effort to seem like we were actually engaging in real conversations—then pause, break, and we were back to loading Mr. Stark’s private jets.

Yes. Jets. As in plural.

Because we weren’t going to fly with the ABC people, right? They had to be there waiting for us upon our arrival anyway.

Eyeroll.

It was only about eleven in the morning by the time we took off, but it felt like the day had been going on for hours already. The jet we were on, which was Mr. Stark’s newest of his hybrid engine class, had quarters for him, myself, and Morgan in the back, which were separated by the full bathrooms in between. It wasn’t long before I had passed out on my bed, the shades closing on the windows to leave me in a nice, quiet slumber…

“Pete, wake up,” My father’s voice called from the door to the cabin. I stirred a bit, covering my head with my pillow. “Shower quickly and get out here, we’re landing soon.”

Soon? Already? How long had I been asleep?

I sprung out of bed, heading to the bathrooms to shower in the circular full shower, washing up as fast as I could, before I dressed in some warm weather clothes and headed out to the cabin, natural sunlight blinding me a bit before I could see outside the windows at the…

Islands? Surrounded by turquoise… lagoons?

How long had I been asleep?

My father walked over to me, looking out the window alongside me with a grin on his face. “Welcome to Bora Bora, Peter.”

[peppersonironi]

Batfam/Avengers Crossover Chapter One: Arrival

Yo, this has been on Ao3 for a while and people seem to really love it, So I thought I’d post it here! Chapter below the cut.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: Gen Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Relationships: Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Natasha Romanov & Damian Wayne, Clint Barton & Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tim Drake & Duke Thomas, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd, Characters: Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Justice League (DCU), Alfred Pennyworth, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Alfred the Cat (DCU), Bat-Cow (DCU), Goliath (DCU), Selina Kyle's Cat Isis, Kate Kane (DCU), Duke Thomas, Additional Tags: Batbrothers (DCU), Avengers Meet The Batfam, MCU/Batfam crossover, Crossover, no beta we die like robins, rated T for Jason's language, I bleeped it out though. Just to be safe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, canon? What's canon?, Deaf Clint Barton,Deaf Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Happy Batfamily (DCU), Birdflash and joyfire are implied/referenced,

Summary:

The Avengers find themselves in an alternate universe where none of them exist. Instead, there is a different group of heroes: The Justice League. They decide to work together to get the Avengers home. But not not everything is instantaneous, so the Avengers need a place to stay. The only place available is Wayne Manor.

Que Batfamily shenanigans!

Multi-chapter fanfic, with some one shots that go along with the plot thrown in.

Notes:

This is my first time writing anything with the Avengers - especially a deaf!clint - and the Batfam, so I apologize if anything is doc. Constructive criticism is appreciated!

This is mainly comic DCU with Movie Avengers (Set after the first avengers movie, plus Spiderman, cause I can ;-)

Crack! Bang! There was a flash of blindingly bright light, followed by a huge explosion.

"Wha- where are we?"

Tony Stark looked over to Peter who had been the first to speak. Crap, the kid had come here too. But wherever here was, he did not know.

Tony, Steve, Hulk, Thor, Clint, Peter, and Natasha stood in a loose clump at the center of a smoking crater. The sky was cloudy  and dark, and they appeared to be at least five miles outside of a big city, judging from the buildings in the distance. There was also a highway filled with streaming cars a couple of miles to Tony’s right.

“This isn’t right,” He muttered, opening his faceplate. Where were the sunny tropical trees that housed the compound of Anagnorisis - weird name, he knew - who was some D-list villain who thought some slightly advanced tech made them a world-conqueror. But Tony was beginning to think that those guns were a bit stranger and more advanced than he had previously believed.

“Tell me about it,” replied Steve. “Any idea where we are? Was it some sort of teleportation gun that was shot at us? This looks nothing like the Amazon.”

Before anyone could speak, Tony received a notification. Multiple incoming objects were approaching, fast . With the exception of the second fastest, they seemed to be airborne. “Multiple incomings, perhaps hostile. Most are flying. And they aren’t missiles. I think people ? But -”

“Who are you?”

Suddenly the first object arrived, and Stark was right. It was a black haired man in a blue skin tight suit with a red “S” on it and a flowing red cape. It would look ridiculous if he wasn’t glaring daggers at the group while flying .

He was joined almost immediately by another man, this time wearing an all red bodysuit with a lightning bolt on the chest and cowl. He was not flying though. He stopped in front of them swinging his arms as lightning dissipated. He had run there.

Next came a woman dressed in the colors of the american flag, with golden cuffs, tiara, and lasso by her side. She came with a man in a green, white, and black skin tight suit with some sort of symbol - perhaps a lantern? - on his chest. He also wore a green ring and black domino mask with white lenses on his face. They were both joined by another, a split second later. This was by far the strangest arrival. He was completely bald, with green skin and red eyes. He wore navy blue pants and cape, with only a red “X” over his chest. All three were floating.

“Who are you?” The blue and red man repeated.

Tony scoffed. Was this guy serious? “We’re the Avengers, obviously.”

The group shared a look. “Is that some new kind of villain group? I swear to all that is good and holy if I need to deal with another group who think they can rule the world, I. Will. Quit.” This time the man who spoke was the runner.

Steve replied, confusion clear on his face. “We’re not villains! We’re the Avengers; Earth’s mightiest heroes!”

Instead of coming to their senses, the strangely dressed newcomers laughed .

“You do realize you are speaking to members of the Justice League?” The woman spoke, her lips pursed.

“The who now?”

“Be quiet Kid, we don’t know what we’re dealing with.” Tony spoke to Peter. He was getting more worried by the second. Something was seriously wrong.

“Dealing with?” The green dressed man frowned, clearly suspicious of the Avengers. He started to fidget with his ring. “Well, since you don’t seem to know, let me enlighten you.” He gestured to each of his companions. “Superman, son of Krypton. Wonder Woman, Amazonian Princess. The Flash, fastest man alive. Martian Manhunter, well, a martian. And Me, Green Lantern. Member of the Green Lantern Core.”

Well, that explained everything. Not.

“We do not know you, strangers.” Thor spoke this time. “Perhaps you leave us be, our green friend over here gets frustrated easily.” He pointed to Hulk, who was breathing heavily.

The green man - martian, apparently - spoke for the first time. “Not until you tell us who you are and why you are in a smoking crater near His city.”

“His?” Clint clearly did not like the way the martian spoke of this character. To be honest, Stark didn’t either.

This got the most surprised reactions from the five. They looked at each other, and Tony could have sworn there was a hint of fear in their faces.

“Oh, He is so not going to like that.” Green Lantern said.

“Combined with the fact that we ditched Him.” The Flash cringed. Then looked worried again. “Yo, green grape, you okay.

The Hulk’s breathing was growing heavier, his face contorted into that of utter rage.

“Uh-oh,” Steve said.

“I . . . Not . . . GRAPE!” Hulk roared as he charged the The Flash who nimbly dodged. Superman went down to intercede, and just got punched by the Hulk. Though it did not seem to physically bother him, he was clearly angry.

Tony shut his face plate and moved forward, intending to stop the fight, but he only got attacked by the martian. Peter jumped forward to help, and soon everyone was fighting.

Thor was pitted against the Wonder Woman, and they seemed evenly matched.  Black Widow was against The flash, and despite his incredible speed she seemed to be almost winning. Both Hawkeye and Captain America were battling Green Lantern.

No one seemed to have the upper hand, which worried Tony. These people were tough. If they couldn’t beat them . . . he didn’t know what would happen.

Peter didn’t seem to share his worry though. He instead seemed to be having fun. Tony could tell the kid was smiling beneath his mask, and his body language screamed hyper and happy. He seemed to get that way whenever they fought together, and a small part of Tony was filled with a sense of parental pride.

The fight seemed endless, no one gaining traction. Until something incredible happened. Thor threw Mjolnir directly at his opponent, and instead of being knocked down like everyone else, she caught the hammer. Every Avenger - even the Hulk - immediately froze, catching the attention of the newcomers.

“This is a very well crafted weapon, though a bit clunky,” Wonder Woman said as she tossed the hammer from one hand to the other. She paused, seeing their reactions.

“You are worthy.” Thor spoke with disbelief and a tint of resignation in his voice.

“Pardon?” Superman spoke, his frown apparent.

“Only those worthy can lift Mjolnir - my hammer. She clearly can, which means that you are trustworthy.”

*****

Five minutes of somewhat confused conversation later, they had reached an uneasy truce. Neither spoke much at first, but they soon began to compare notes. Apparently They both believed themselves to be the protectors of Earth, which brought on a bout of argument before Peter stepped in.

“Woah hold on, calm down. Something is clearly up, so there’s no need to argue!”

Wonder Woman looked contemplative. “How old are you boy, you seem young.”

Peter bristled. “I’m 15, and I’ve been a superhero for a while now, so I’m not inexperienced!”

Green Lantern laughed. “That’s not what she met, kid. We aren’t going to tell you how old you need to be to fight crime. The amount of we work with, and some even younger than you . . .” He shook his head and laughed. Then he realised how he had sounded. “I mean, we don’t force them, it's up to each individual to make that choice for themselves. Well, with the mentor’s approval of course.”

Natasha furrowed her brows. “How young are some of these kids?” Tony knew she had a thing against child soldiers, so he wasn’t surprised she was disapproving.

Green Lantern looks to the Flash. “How old is Robin at this point? 9?”

Flash laughed. “Naw, that little devil is 11. He was very adamant on that fact when he threatened me with his katana.” He shook his head.

Green Lantern laughed. “Yeah, most of the others are teenagers. Robin is the youngest, and I’d say most deadly, but Red Hood . . .”

“The Dark Knight really does have a problem,” Flash said.

His last comment made Green Lantern freeze. They both looked at each other then turned to Peter.

“Kid, stay away from The Dark Knight.” Green Lantern says.

“Yeah, if He sees you, there’s no way you’ll ever leave.”

“He’s the most dangerous man on earth,” Green Lantern adds.

“Guys, stop. You’re scaring him.” Superman looks disappointedly at the two heroes who Tony pegged as the trouble makers of the group. This idea was further cemented in Tony when they started laughing. Despite this, he decided to keep Peter as far away from this supposed Dark Knight as possible.

“Speak of the devil, he’s on his way.” Superman says this with a smile, then he cringes. “And we’re going to get an earful alright. Ten minutes ahead of him is a big deal apparently.”

In a moment. Tony got an alert that something was approaching. Fast. Soon he saw a large black military type armoured car fly down the highway from the city and off the road. It zoomed toward them.

It was a sight indeed to see the menacing black car swerve and expertly stop a few yards from the group. The top opened and a dark form shot straight up before landing in a kneeling position in front of them. The figure rose, and Tony got the first good look at him. He was a tall man with a broad chest and shoulders, dresses in complete black. There was a bat-like symbol on his chest, also in black. He wore a cape that flowed around menacingly. His face was covered by a cowl with pointed ears, like that of an owl, or perhaps a bat. The only part of his costume that was not black was the dark gold utility belt at his waist. Altogether, he was utterly frightening.

Tony took a step forward, effectively blocking Peter, who scoffed.

“Batman,” Superman said, a smile on his face.

Batman fixed the most impressive and terrifying glare upon the man that Stark had ever seen. “You broke protocol by going ahead of me. You are in my territory Superman. And you know that I cannot fly or run at the speed of sound.” He fixed his glare on the rest of his group who all reacted with either flinches or sheepish shrugs.

Batman grunted before looking at the Avengers. He sized each of them up, staying longest on Stark. Tony felt as if his entire being was being stripped away under the scrutiny.

“Alternate Dimension jumpers, not by choice I’m assuming.”

He spoke so simply that it took a minute for Tony to react. Even then, the man was already on his way back to his car.

“We’re near Gotham, let’s regroup at the Cave.”

Tony didn’t know what this Cave was, but he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Are you the Dark Knight?” He asked, before he lost his nerve.

The man looked immediately at the Flash and Green Lantern, who looked both scared and amused. Their sheepish smirks and chuckles dissipated when Batman looked away and back to Tony.

“The Dark Knight, The World’s Greatest Detective, The Caped Crusader, The Batman. All are titles I have earned. See you at the cave.”

And with that he hopped in his car and sped off back toward the gloomy city beyond.

[ladyanput]

Seeing Green Ch.14

Mayura led them to the top of Wayne Tower, where Hawkmoth had been waiting. She carried the unconscious Adrien over to him.

"I got him for you, sir. Are you sure about this?" She asked as she gave the man his son, then took a step back to put some distance between them.

"Of course. You saw, Mayura, that akuma had almost gotten the Miraculous. There are powerful people here, imagine what I could do if I could akumatize the likes of Batman, or of any of the numerous villains here." Hawkmoth gave his partner a thin smile as he laid his sleeping son on the ground, near the rooftop door. "Then I can finally get her back, Mayura. I can get her back and everything will be perfect again."

"Hawkmoth!" A voice drew both of their attentions away from Hawkmoth's usual dialogue, and drew back in shock at the sight of Ladybug and the other Miraculous holders joining them on the roof. Ladybug began marching forward, murder clear in her eyes. "Enough is enough! 

"Ah, Ladybug. Are you here to finally hand over your Miraculous?" Hawkmoth grinned, and it took everything in Ladybug not to march over and slammed her fist into his face. She let herself get angry, get truly furious at him, for this was the end, she could just taste it. "I'll take the new Chat Noir's as well."

"The name is Tadmir, and we'll be taking yours first." The new Black Cat stepped forward to stand beside Ladybug, the others followed suit. They all stared Hawkmoth down, who simply let out an amused laugh and tightened his grip on his cane.

"You're all just a bunch of children, especially you, Ladybug. All these years and you've still barely tapped into your powers, still unable to hold onto your transformation after using your powers. How pathetic." He nudged the sleeping Adrien at his feet, causing him to stir. Green eyes snapped open and he sat up abruptly, letting out a startled gasp. Hawkmoth knelt next to him, wrapping a supportive arm around his son's shoulders. "Remember what I told you, Adrien. This is our only way to get our family back."

"Gabriel. Gabriel Agreste." Queen Bee snarled, her hands curling into fists as she took a step forward. "I knew it, I just knew it! You were always a crazy, creepy son of a bitch."

"I'd watch your language, Miss Bourgeois." Hawkmoth sneered, not seeming troubled by the fact they had figured out his identity. In fact, Ladybug felt unease curl in her gut at how casual he appeared.

Hawkmoth opened his cane, where a small dark butterfly was being kept. At the same time, Mayura pulled a blue feather from her face. In sync, both villains let their items float towards the boy kneeling at their feet.

Ladybug's yoyo shot out abruptly, catching the akuma before anyone could react, but missed the feather by a hair. She watched in horror as the blue mask framed Adrien's eyes, and something began to form.

It emerged from the shadows, a massive, sickly looking cat that looked over then all. It's glowing green eyes pierced the night, sending shivers down Ladybug's spine.

"What the fuck is that?!" Red Robin gripped his weapon tightly, the rest of his team joining suit. They watched as the cat yowled at them, showing off rows of sharp, yellowed teeth.

"Whatever it is, we're going to have to put it down!" Red Hood snapped and charged forward. The massive amok swiped one of its large paws, slamming it into Red Hood and sending him sliding across the rooftop, catching himself before he could go over the edge.

"You think you can handle it?" Ladybug kept her gaze on Hawkmoth, her body tensed as she readied herself to spring.

"We'll take care of it. You get those Miraculous before those two get us killed." Batman called out, and everyone leapt into action.

The Miraculous holders divided themselves; with Ryuko, Viperion, and Queen Bee going after Mayura, and Lady Vixen, Ladybug, and Tadmir going after Hawkmoth.

Hawkmoth was surprised by the sudden barrage of attacks he was hit with. Tadmir seemed to be more brutal than his son had been as the Black Cat. His strikes were more precise and had more weight to them, obviously of someone who trained and trained hard. But Hawkmoth had trained as well, and was certain he would never lose, not when his goal was just within reach.

Ladybug put her all into every punch, every kick, every scratch, aiming for one thing and one thing alone; the butterfly pin. 

When she saw it, it only further enraged her. This psychopath had used and abused the Miraculous, abused Nooroo. This bastard was the reason her life had gone spiraling like it had. She could have had a normal life, with normal friends! She could still have Alya, have everyone else! Adrien wouldn't have been messed up so badly, she might have even ended up dating him, because she had loved him!

Tears burned Ladybug's eyes as she fought and fought and fought, her muscles soon screaming from the excess of stress.

But Hawkmoth did not go down easily, neither did Mayura, meanwhile Adrien rode atop his massive shadow cat and tried to reduce the Gotham vigilantes to paste. But when he saw Tadmir, realization hit him hard and he snarled in anger.

"That is my Miraculous!" Adrien's strong emotions made the cat grow bigger, its claws growing longer and sharper. Adrien's face became a mask of twisted rage as he turned his attention back to Batman and other others. "First, I'll kill all of you! Then I'll get my Miraculous back!"

The boy was under great delusions thanks to his father.

"Once I revive your mother, Adrien, I will allow you to make a wish of your own, I promise."

And Adrien completely disregarded that his father usually went back on every promise he had made before, more enraptured in the thought of what his wish would be; for Ladybug to be hopelessly in love with him. And then with that, she'd surely give him his ring back.

Ladybug risked a glance over to his teammates. Vixen was currently trying to avoid Hawkmoth's swings with his cane, while Tadmir was trying his hardest to land a solid blow to either his face or between his legs.

But all of them, even Ladybug herself, were so focused on the pin, on retrieving it, that Ladybug didn't notice the cane swinging in her direction. She let out a startled cry as it cracked against her head, sending her sprawling onto the ground, her vision going blurry, before blacking out.

When Ladybug came to, she was sprawled out on the rooftop, her visions full of dark spots. Once she blinked them away, she saw all of her comrades scattered across the roof, looking beaten and bloody. Luka, Kagami, and Chloé were all huddled, detransformed, bruised and thoroughly defeated. Evangeline was cradling a bloodied Red Hood close, her face battered with dark bruises, and Damian was sprawled out beside her, bleeding heavily from a wound in his gut.

"Damian!" Ladybug tried to get to her feet as frantic fear overtook her, but she whimpered when a foot stepped on her back, keeping her pinned. Then a bloodied silver blade pressed against her throat before she could even make a move. 

"Well, well, I suppose that it's all finally come to this. I told you that I would get your Miraculous, Ladybug. Finally, I can get what it is I truly desire." Hawkmoth grinned as he knelt down and grasped one of the spotted earrings. He relished in pulling it free from her ear, detransforming her. Hawkmoth stared down at the teen girl who had been a thorn in his side for years, staring at her face, trying to place it but not quite able to.

"Marinette!" Adrien spat out, before turning towards Hawkmoth, a triumphant grin on his face. "I told you father! I told you it was her, she couldn't trick me!"

Hawkmoth paid no intention, instead taking the other earring. As Mayura stepped forward, Hawkmoth reared back his sword, then jabbed it into Marinette's back, making her cry out in pain.

"You can heal her with a wish." Hawkmoth said casually to Adrien as he slid on the Black Cat Miraculous, then forced the Ladybug earrings into his ears, despite not having them pierced. A little bit of pain was worth being with his Émilie again,his perfect, stunning, obedient wife.

"You bastard.." Eva snarled as she stood, her body shaking from her overtaking herself, but was knocked down by Mayura rushing over and backhanding her, making her collapse.

"Sir, I congratulate you in succeeding." Mayura smiled as she strode over to Hawkmoth, and Marinette wanted to hurl when she saw the look of adoration on her face. "I'll be happy when she returns."

"We'll be a happy family again." Adrien put it as both Tikki and Plagg appeared. Both Kwami looked devastated when they saw the condition of all of their allies, before their gazes turned hateful upon seeing Gabriel drop his transformation and stumble a few steps. The weight of such powerful Miraculous were a bit too much for him.

"Tikki, Plagg, I am now your Master." Gabriel grinned, and poor Nooroo flinched when he realized his dearest family would be subjected to the same torment to which he had been a long suffering victim. "I have a wish to make, and you shall give it to me."

 "And what is your wish?" Plagg spat out acidicly, while Gabriel merely smiled.

"I wish for my wife to be alive and well once again. The damaged Peacock Miraculous had greatly hurt her and she lay dying beneath my home." Gabriel announced, and Marinette felt bile rise in her throat.

Tikki was quiet for a moment, before flying closer to Gabriel, meeting his gaze.

"Are you sure you want to do that, Gabriel? There is a law of equivalent exchange, no wish is for free." She warned, before Gabriel suddenly snatched her, squeezing her tightly.

"Do not question me! I am your owner and you will do my bidding!" Gabriel snarled, giving Tikki a sharp shake, before finally letting her go.

Once he did, Tikki and Plagg exchanged regretful looks before bowing their heads.

"As you wish, Master. Transform and make the wish." Plagg spoke out, his tone sounding flat and reserved, causing Gabriel to grin in triumph.

He transformed and made his wish, causing the entire area to quickly be filled with blinding golden light.

Then it faded and Adrien crumpled to the ground, his vacant eyes staring up at the dark night sky.

"Adrien?!" Mayura knelt beside him, then began to have a violent coughing fit. Her body shook once and she collapsed to the ground as well, her transformation dropping to reveal the body of Natalie with a now permanent look of shock on her face.

"What…?" Gabriel stared in shock down at the two people he had cared about most in the world. The man dropped the transformation as he went and knelt by the body of his son, cradling him close and he glared at the two Kwami that were now floating over him. "What did you do?!"

"Adrien..? Gabriel?!" Gabriel's head snapped up and he stared as his beautiful Émilie stood on the other side of the roof, looking horrified.

…

Marinette couldn't move and her vision was becoming blurry, then dark around the edges. She managed to reach a hand out and grasp Damian's, though her fingertips were beginning to feel cold.

Was this what it was like to die…?

"It's okay, sugar cookie.." A soft, warm voice murmured into her ear, and a gentle hand stroked Marinette's hair. "I'll save you, I promise."

Marinette went to speak, but she couldn't, her vision slowly going black as she listened to the clicking of heels move away from her and a cry of outrage. 

Golden light flared, nearly blinding her, then everything went black.

She awoke to the feeling of being cradled in someone's arms. She glanced up and a sob left her as she saw it was Damian. Before he could say anything, she leaned up and hugged him, beginning to sob.

"I thought I had lost you.." She whispered, burying her face into his neck. He hugged back and they say there for what felt like the longest time, before she abruptly pulled back and frantically looked around. "Wait, Hawkmoth, he-"

"Don't worry about him." Batman smiled down at her, then pointed to where Gabriel Agreste was handcuffed and looking quite miserable. 

Marinette stared at the man for the longest time, finding herself pitying him, in a way. The man had gone through all of that trouble just to revive his wife. He was quite pathetic.

A soft groaning sound could be heard and her attention snapped towards where Adrien lie, watching in shock as the boy sat up, holding his head.

Everyone was silent for the longest time, then Marinette got to her feet and slowly made her way over to him. Once their eyes met, she watched as tears began streaming down his face.

"Marinette..?" Adrien whispered, his eyes looking clear for the first time in a long time. Then a horrified expression flickered across his face and he began to sob. "Oh god, I was- Marinette- I was a monster…"

Marinette knelt beside him as he broke down in front of her, before she embraced him and let her own tears begin to fall. The Waynes, Luka, Kagami, and Chloé watched as the two broke down in tears, finally free from this burden that had plagued them for so long.

Once their tears subsided, their gazes shifted over to Natalie's body.

"I can't believe she sacrificed her life to make a wish, to save us." Marinette whispered, reaching out and closing Natalie's staring eyes. "I hope she finds peace, she really turned herself around in the end."

"Marinette!" Tikki came rushing forward, nuzzling her Chosen's cheek, holding the earrings tightly. "I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose you!"

"You'd never lose me, I'm your Guardian afterall. It takes more than a stab wound to take down Marinette Dupain-Cheng." Marinette grinned, quickly putting on the earrings, feeling a sense of relief and familiarity. Plagg, after realizing the coast was clear, flew over to Damian and handed him his ring, the two of them sharing a smile.

The cops soon came and hauled off Gabriel and Adrien, who went willingly, the heroes stood there and felt free for the first time in a long time.

"I guess we can go back to Paris." Ryuko hugged Ladybug, Queen Bee and Viperion soon joining in. "We'll see you when you get home. Should we be ready to give the Miraculous back?"

"I think so.. With Hawkmoth gone, I think the Miraculous need to go back into hiding again." Ladybug smiled sadly, looking down at the Peacock and Butterfly Miraculous in her hand. "I can't have these fall into the wrong hands again. But I'll give you time to say goodbye, I'll be home tomorrow."

Kalki came when summoned and allowed the Parisians to go home, with Ladybug turning back to Tadmir, and hugging him once again.

"I guess we need to get going. My parents want to go home and get the school board to fire Bustier's ass." She joked, taking his hand as Kaalki changed the portal location to the Wayne Manor. "I think I'll have fun with that one."

"I can't imagine how your class survived with only her chaperoning." Nightwing joked, stepping through the portal with a slight skip in his step. Ladybug watched with a smile as everyone headed inside and was about to join them, before something caught her eye.

A few feet away from her was the Fox Miraculous, looking as if it had been tossed carelessly on the ground. She frowned and picked it up, this catching Tadmir's attention before he stepped through the portal.

"Tadmir, do you remember me giving the Fox Miraculous to anyone?" Ladybug asked as she made her way back to the portal. Tadmir looked thoughtful, before shaking his head. "Huh,maybe I accidentally summoned it. I didn't forget it, so I guess it's nothing worth worrying about."

When they stepped through the portal and arrived in the main hall of Wayne Manor, Jason strode up and ruffled Marinette's hair as soon as she detransformed.

"Well, pixie pop, what took you guys so long? I'm trying to convince Bruce here to let us get drunk and party it up." He joked, earning an eye roll from his brothers.

"I was just getting this." Marinette held up the Fox Necklace, and as she stared at it, she felt tears burn her eyes, and a few slid down her cheeks. And when she next looked at Jason, she could see he was crying as well, but looked as baffled as she.

…

"Marinette, you're okay!" Alix burst from the class as they exited the hotel to see Marinette standing by the bus that was waiting to take them to the airport. Marinette opened her arms and accepted the hug as Alix rushed to her. "Did you get him? Is it… Is it all over?"

"Hawkmoth is gone." Marinette smiled as she pulled back, and the entire group began to cheer and some even began to cry. The terror of Hawkmoth's reign was finally over.

"Now you and I have so much more time to spend with your best friend!" Alya shoved her way to the front of the group, then moved to hug Marinette, only for said girl to hold up a hand and stop her in her tracks.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Marinette rose a brow, not missing the looks Nino and Alix exchanged.

"Miss Bustier explained everything. I know all of that stress made you more susceptible to act out, but the stress is gone now and we can be best friends again, like how it used to be!" Alya explained, and Marinette turned her cold gaze to the smiling Caline Bustier.

"Well that's bull." Marinette snapped out, setting her hands on her hips. "Because you're not my best friend. You're Lila's, remember? And I'm too jealous of her because of Adrien, right?"

"Girl, please, she's a liar, she tricked me. And Adrien is a piece of trash, he convinced Nino to dump me, remember?" Alya rolled her eyes. 

"Marinette, please, Alya is really trying." Miss Bustier spoke up, then motioned to the bus. "Now let's just make up and get to the airport."

"Oh that's enough out of you, she certainly wasn't trying when she threw champagne in my face and called me loose." Marinette snapped, her eyes full of fury now, as she could finally let loose and get it all out. "You can't keep enabling this kind of thing! It's not healthy, and it only makes things worse!"

"Marinette-"

"No, I won't be the example! You didn't even contact my parents, Mr. Wayne had to do that!" Marinette shook her head, then took a deep breath. "My parents called the education board."

Marinette turned away as she saw Miss Bustier go white, and went over to where Damian was waiting for her.

"I'll see you in a few months." She hugged him tightly, then softly kissed his cheek. "Take good care of Plagg."

"I already have some camembert ordered for the glutton." Damian joked, then gently cupped her cheek, gazing deep into her blue eyes, then softly kissed her. "I'll be counting the hours until I can see my angel again."

"I'll be counting the minutes, Mon Prince." She kissed him back, then gave him one last hug, before boarding the bus with her friends.

Damian watched, hands stuffed in his pockets, as the bus drove off, carrying his love back home. And he found himself smiling as he fiddled with the ring on his finger, feeling a rather bright future ahead.

Taglist: @realrandomposts @interobanginyourmom @ladybug-182 @ladylb @zalladane @mochinek0 @persephonebutkore @urbanpineapplefarmer @vixen-uchiha @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @thewheezingbubbledragon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @thequestionablyhuman @ginamarie1512 @maude-zarella @2sunchild2 @saphiraazure2708 @ayuchan07 @virgil-is-a-cutie @thepeacetea @miraculous786 @enchanted-nerd @ficsforthestars @emo-elaine13 @caffeinetheory

[fearfulkittenwrites]

Gala and “I’m allergic to bullshit.”

Word count: 2244

Link for it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26180371

Notes: Hey! This was beta'd by @3ambird​ , who is an amazing sweetheart and improves evertything they touch. Thank you for the help!

Galas were never fun. Bruce had hated them as a kid, and hated them as teen, and he hates them as an adult. Still, he has to maintain appearances, so he always attends. And as his family grew, his kids were forced to attend as well.

Dick Grayson was particularly good at socializing. After he moved past his teenage rage, of course. He used to get in passive aggressive arguments with the rich CEOs and company owners all the time. He still does, but at least now he was good at it to the point where it almost couldn’t be recognized as an argument, instead of jumping on the necks of greedy millionaires that bought land out of poor people.

That was an interesting headline.

Jason sucked at galas. Soon enough, he figured out that if he started enough awkward conversations, people wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore. Especially the creepy single older women, pinching his cheeks and squeezing his biceps.

“Say, Claire, what’s your opinion on the alarming rate at which the bees are disappearing? They say that’s because of all the chemicals we put in our food.” He’d smile, carefully holding his glass. Bruce would struggle to hide his gasp, because Jason, that’s the owner of the highest earning pesticides company in the country.

“Well, Roger, I’m certain that the legalization of abortions would be a great thing, considering that now your mistresses won’t have to be sent overseas to terminate the unwanted preganancies you give them, right?” He’d say, and Bruce would nearly have a heart attack, because Jason, that’s the president of Gotham’s conservative party.

“Oh, you see, Sandra, I think that gay marriage should not only be legalized, but encouraged. If straight couples were to cease existing, then no more children would be born, and honestly, no one needs any more of those snotty gremlins running around, ruining perfectly good tapestry.” And Bruce would faint, because Jason, for God’s sake, that is the leader of the Gotham’s Motherhood Association.

Tim wasn’t all that bad. He could be social with a little effort, and he was far more used to galas than any of the other family members, having grown up attending them. Of course, all of that was only valid when he wasn’t sleep deprived, which, considering all he had on his plate, was roughly 32% of the time. When he was running on three hours of sleep and seven cups of caffeine a day, trying to finish a project, run his share of the Wayne Enterprises, and manage school work, he became a bit more irritable and impatient. And extremely impulsive. Which is mainly why Bruce asked Dick to stand by his brother through most of the night.

“We both know you’re his impulse control, Dick.” He said, adjusting his oldest son’s tie “Remember what happened the last time he was left unattended for fifteen minutes?”

“He got into an argument with a young Creationist and dunked his own head in an ice bowl after screaming ‘Fuck God! I can hear colors and dinosaurs rule!’” Dick sighed, “Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Cass despised them, but Bruce insisted she should attend anyway. More often than not, she’d just stay at the table, tasting as many appetizers as the waiters would bring her, and shooting murderous looks at anyone who sneered at her. Bruce was relieved that at least she wasn’t cracking any bones.

Damian was... Better than Jason and worse than Dick. He had an unamused expression through most of the event, and would unceremoniously swat away any hands that tried to pinch his cheeks. Other than that, he wasn’t much trouble. The real trouble were galas all Wayne kids attended. The five of them could cause enough trouble when they were apart, together they were the embodiment of chaos.

And this was supposed to be a calm, slightly boring family evening. It really was.

But Bruce just had to bring all five of them.

Everything had to go just right. As they walked in through the red carpet, the media was eating up the image of the six Waynes dressed formally; Each of them had a tie color matching their hero uniform (a cheeky thing they enjoyed doing to play with the theorists minds), Dick had a dark blue one, Tim and Jason slightly varying tones of red, Damian had a green one and Bruce had a black one. Cass wore a long black dress that sparkled when it was hit by the light in just the right way.

The first sign was the reporter, who, while aggressively pointing a microphone in their faces, asked pushy questions about relationships and the like, nothing out of the ordinary, until he shoved it in Cass’ face and asked her if she could even speak. Jason almost broke the man’s nose. Bruce silently thanked God for Dick, who stepped in front of the man before that happened.

“Try some shit like that again pal, you’ll hear from our lawyers.” He led his sister inside, a protective hand on her back.

They calmed down. And Bruce still had hopes that this would be a quiet evening.

Looking back at it, he doesn’t know why.

Because as Dick and Cass were at the bar, ordering drinks, a woman stood next to them, trying to make small talk. Neither of them seemed too interested in her; she is a hassle at every gala, making weird advances on all of the boys. Today, however, she was a little more tipsy, and Bruce couldn’t quite make out what exactly the conversation was about, but Dick was clearly uncomfortable and Cass was fuming. The woman kept grabbing at him, sliding her hands over his tie, squeezing his arms. And then she squeezed his ass, and it took Cass less than a second to break her nose.

If they were any other family, Cass would have been thrown out of the party, but they were the Waynes, and you do not throw a Wayne out of a party. If she punched a middle-aged woman, then she punched a middle-aged woman. Bring her a glass of water and some ice for her injured hand.

Of course, it didn’t end there.

Bruce was still surprised he didn’t have gray hairs yet.

Because Damian had discovered and made friends with a stray cat in the garden, and Jason had a laser pointer, because of course Jason had a laser pointer, and the cat ended up knocking down not one, not two, but three expensive pieces of pottery, shattering them on the gravel floor. And when the house owner saw the damage, he turned pale and had to hold back his tears. Jason laughed.

“-tt-.” Damian stated, adjusting his suit “You owe that cat a favour,those vases ruined the garden’s aesthetic. Regardless, I’m sure father will be more than happy to compensate you for the damages.”

He walked back to the party slowly, passing by the man who would need some time to make it back.

Once Jason broke him the news, Bruce thought (and hoped) that that would be it.

But no, the night was young, and there was so much time left and the batsibilings for sure wouldn’t waste it.

The previous statement about sleep deprived Tim?

Well.

Tonight, he had to pick a fight with an essential-oil-loving, antivax mother. Simply because he liked to torture himself. And because nobody realised he was alone until Bruce spotted him in the crowd, eye twitching as a woman rambled about all the heavy metals and chemicals that vaccines had in them. He thought about getting to him, but he knew it was too late. There was no going back now.

“Well, you see Karen,” He started.

“Uuum, my name’s Patricia.” She interrupted.

“I’m a billionaire’s heir, I don’t give a shit.” He said “Anyways. As I was saying, the thing is, I’d rather take the chance of being injecting myself with mercury than, oh, I don’t know, get meningitis and fucking die?”

The circle went quiet. Another woman, wanting to dissipate the tension, tried to restart the conversation.

“I-I mean, I don’t understand why can’t they make something safer, right? Like, when we used to throw those smallpox parties, why won’t they make something that works like that? So that we can build a natural immunity instead of all of those chemicals.” She laughed awkwardly.

Tim slapped his own face so hard that it attracted a lot of eyes.

“How. Do. You. Think. Vaccines. Work. Susan?”

“M-my name is Mary.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He answered. And just in time, Dick swooped in.

“Hey, Timmy!” He greeted “Can I borrow this guy for a second?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he guided Tim out to the garden.

“Fucking idiots.” He muttered “I don’t know how they have so much money. They’re all fucking idiots, Dick. I’m surrounded by dumbasses.”

“There, there.” He said “Okay, we’re far enough.” He looked around “Go ahead.”

And Tim let out the most horrendous, rage filled scream any of those guests had ever heard. Because of course they heard it. Bruce sighed and shrunk on his chair.

“Better?” Dick asked as he finished, patting his back.

“So much.” Tim answered.

“You should’ve slept a little before this.”

“No way. I’m totally fine.” He answered “I had three cans of monster before we left, so I feel great.” Dick raised an eyebrow, worried.

“Whatever you say, buddy.” He led him back inside, tidying up his brother’s hair “Just... No more picking fights with moms tonight, okay?”

And Bruce thought that was enough. Bruce was certain that this would be the last incident.

But his kids just loved proving him wrong.

He thought that the best strategy would be to ask them to stick together, so that Dick’s responsibility and social skills would keep his feral siblings under control. He should’ve known it would backfire.

The last he checked, they were making small talk with some CEOs on the edge of the room, away from the dance floor. Jason, Cass and Damian seemed completely bored, Tim was clenching his jaw for some reason, and Dick tried his best to look polished and polite.

“So, I heard that Wayne Enterprises have a new project?” One of them asked, chest so projected forwards it looked like it was about to explode.

“Yes. Yes we do.” Dick said, smiling politely “We’re opening up a refugee housing program.”

“Oh, so that’s what those buildings are for?”

“Yes, exactly!” He exclaimed, opening his arms in a seemingly natural manner “We are building apartments to shelter them. It’s nothing fancy, but we can charge a cheaper rent than most, and not charge at all for the first six months, giving them a chance to properly establish themselves here.”

“Well, I must say,” Puffed up chest guy stated, “I can’t see why not to give them to good old Americans instead. There’s a lot of homeless people nowadays, you see.” He leaned forward as he talked.

Damian perked his head up, but didn’t say anything. Cass and Jason seemed to be listening. Tim’s left eye twitched.

“Actually,” Tim started “The company has very stable, successful projects to help the homeless.”

“I’m familiar with those, yes.” He arrogantly dismissed the teen “But, you see, I just can’t understand why not open the housing to tax paying Americans instead of some...”

“Potential terrorists?” Damian suggested, arms crossed, scowl on his face.

“...Foreigners.” He completed.

“Well, since you ask, we are currently planning on the possibility of eventually opening vague apartments to Americans too.” Dick answered, swirling the liquid in his glass around “But the priority now really are the refugees.”

“I don’t see why can’t we prioritize our own people.” He insisted “I’m simply concerned for the well being of our poorest patriots.”

Dick blinked.

And here’s why Bruce should have known it would backfire.

Because, yes, Dick was able to cool them down...

But they were able to fire him up.

And so, like the charismatic man he was, he covered his nose a little, rubbing at the end, and faked a loud sneeze.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” He started “You see, I have this strange condition.” Dick stared at the man in the eye, the guy who had bought an old building people were squatting at, just to demolish it and doom them to the streets with no care or compensation, and, knowing this and so much more, said “I’m allergic to bullshit.”

And his siblings went feral again.

Tim and Jason screamed an ‘Oooooooooh!’, Damian pointed at the man and laughed loudly, and Cass snorted, covering her mouth in surprise.

Dick didn’t break eye contact as he drank the last of his champagne.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” He said “I have to go look for better company.” Dick left the empty glass at the nearest table and adjusted his suit, smiling “Have a nice evening.”

As he walked away, the gang followed close behind, all of them very excited about how Dick, the composed, calm, cool, polite and polished Dick Grayson-Wayne, had just burned a millionaire in front of his economic allies. As the party reached Bruce, the man once again seemed to sink into his chair. Dick sat next to him, radiating confidence and charm.

“Do I wanna know?” The man asked.

“No,” Dick answered, grinning but not looking at the man “No you don’t.”

[hellimagines]

Sunbird -- Jason Todd

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N and Jason are reunited after believing the other was dead.

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, torture, angst

Pairing: Joker’s!Daughter!reader x Jason Todd

Word Count: 3,000+

A/N: I haven’t written in a while, and it’s my first time writing for Jason Todd and DC as a whole, so we’re just gonna see how this goes. Please let me know what you think! This has aspects from Batman: Under the Red Hood as well as the comics, but doesn’t follow any specific canon. Also, I know Marvel just released a new character named Sun Bird, but we’re ignoring that. 

The harsh rub of zip ties against her bloodied wrists, the impossible twist of her arms behind the wooden chair she was sitting in, the harshness of her breathing from screaming and broken ribs, and the split skin from her right cheekbone down to the bottom of her lip did nothing to distract Y/N from the true pain in front of her.  

“Stop! Please, please, leave him alone; he hasn’t done anything!” Y/N cried, straining against the ties even harder, ignoring the pull of her dislocated shoulders and the raw rubbing of her wrists. There was another crunch as a crowbar came hurtling down against the boy at her feet, her pleas ignored. The crowbar hit his shoulder blade, blood spraying across the girl’s shoes from the freshly torn skin. 

The Joker looked up, his eyes full of familiar mania while he gripped his weapon tightly. “Peaches,” he tsked, straightening up to look down at the beaten girl in the chair, “he’s done everything. He’s the reason I haven’t seen you in two years. He’s the reason ya mother’s locked away. He’s the reason my babygirl isn’t my babygirl anymore.” Joker’s words were dripping with venom, spit flying from his mouth and landing on the two lovers as his anger grew. “The bird and the bat have destroyed my family time and time again. I won’t allow it any longer!”

“Robin didn’t ruin anything, you did!” Y/N fired back just as fiercely, spitting back at the clown before her. “You’re the reason I ran away to Batman and Robin. You’re the reason I never looked back. You’re the reason I hate you,” she snarled, (e/c) eyes filled with rage. 

Silence filled the room as the Joker reeled back, hurt and anger wiping his smile clean off. He drew his arm back, bloodied gloves gripping the crowbar tightly, and slammed down. Y/N wasn’t expecting the agony that exploded down her arm and up her face as the crowbar connected with the junction from her shoulder to her neck, nor the scream that hurled from her lungs. Blood splattered across her face, over her chest, down her arm, and onto the boy below, while her chair tipped to the floor due to the force. Robin, known intimately as Jason Todd, yelled out for her, his own blood flying from his mouth. She didn’t yell back for him, her throat too raw from the sudden pain and her body turning cold with shock. The Joker knelt, tilting his head to look Y/N in the eye.

“Now, peaches, that’s no way to talk to your father.”

“Until the day I die, you will never be my father.” 

Silence prevailed once more as father and daughter stared one another in the eye; Y/N panting heavily with blood across her face, and the Joker breathing deeply with blood across his hands. Finally, after it became obvious neither was going to back down, the father stood. 

“Very well,” he spoke simply, turning his gaze away to look down at his handy-work on Batman’s sidekick. “Usually the bat shows up by now, but considering the lack of importance that two of you apparently hold, I’ve given up hope on our date night.” He began walking away from the battered teens, his hands clasping the crowbar behind his back. It thumped his palm eerily, echoing in the warehouse. “Since both of you refuse to ease your suffering, I’ll leave you be,” he paused, opening the warehouse door and allowing a gust of snowy air to rush in. “If you’re worried about the cold, don’t be. Should the bat not show up soon, it’ll warm up eventually.” There was no laughter, no smile, no looking back as the Joker left with the heavy doors slamming behind him. The wind vanished alongside the Clown Prince of Gotham, but the warehouse was still chilled to the core.

Jason didn’t - couldn’t - speak, his lungs filled with blood and struggling to even breathe. Instead, he tilted his head to look at Y/N, her (h/c) hair sticking to the bloody parts of her face. She was already looking down at him, guilt clear in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” she began, ignoring the way Jason shook his head, “I don’t know how he found me. We were so careful, all of us, I made sure of it. I’ll get us out of here, I promise, we’ll figure something out.” Her promise held no guarantee, they both knew that, but she needed to give them hope. 

Jason tried to talk, tried telling her that Batman would be here any second and that it wasn’t her fault; but he couldn’t without choking on his own blood. He grunted instead as he rolled onto his stomach, his body protesting in pain while he scrunched up to walk his legs through his arms, returning them to the front of his body instead of the back. He couldn’t get out of his handcuffs and he couldn’t get Y/N out of her zip ties, but he didn’t have time to wallow on that- he had to keep moving. Grabbing onto the side of Y/N’s chair, he used it as leverage to pull himself to his feet, his legs quivering with the strain. He gave the chair another tug, one he knew was gonna put him on his ass, and uprighted the chair so Y/N wasn’t fallen over. As predicted, he collapsed immediately and whimpered in quiet pain as soon as he hit the floor. 

Y/N seethed, “Goddamnit, Robin, you’re gonna kill yourself! Just stay still, Batman will be here soon.”

Jason ignored her. It wasn’t his job to wait around for Batman or Nightwing or anyone else to save him; his job was to do the saving. He was Robin, Batman’s partner in justice- he could save himself and the girl he loved without dying. Bracing his forearms against the cement, Jason dragged himself forward, unable to stand again. Y/N continued protesting behind him, trying to break free of her bindings to stop him, but he kept going. He dragged his body across the floor, blood trailing in his wake as he reached the door. Jason had no idea how heavy the door was going to be, but as he reached up and grabbed ahold of the handle, he realized it didn’t matter- the handle didn’t budge. Falling against the door in exhaustion, Jason looked around for another means of escape. As his eyes wandered, a soft beeping caught his attention, forcing him to notice the black multi-wired box with a timer attached near the door. 

5

“Robin, what is it?” He looked back at Y/N, his blue eyes conflicted with defeat and terror. 

4

They were going to die.

3

He couldn’t save her.

2

“Jason-”

1

—

“Keep your eyes out, Robin. We don’t know how this guy works.” As she spoke through the com connected to her suit, Y/N could practically see Tim’s eyes roll. 

“You know, Sunbird, I’d rather keep my eyes firmly within my own skull, thank you,” Tim shot back, causing a bark of laughter from Nightwing across the comms.

Y/N smirked, ready with a retort when Batman’s voice cut through the comms. “Focus, all of you. We’re working with someone who has taken out three drug rings within the last week. Snark won’t get us where we need to be,” he graveled, and the birds settled down. 

Batman, Nightwing, Robin, and Sunbird were all gathered at Gotham Harbor to confront the man who had ‘taken care of’ all three of Y/N’s latest missions. He was called the Red Hood, and they had yet to figure out his motive, who he was, or how and why he was intervening in Sunbird’s discreet missions. While she was appreciative of the danger being off the streets, she wasn’t fond of a new, murderous vigilante stepping on her toes. Y/N was perched atop one of the many red shipping containers littering the docks, the breeze pushing in the damp air from the ocean causing her to shiver. Her red and gray suit didn’t do much to keep the cold out, but her unnaturally high body temperature kept her from freezing. Across the dock Y/N could vaguely see Robin on his belly, his fingers tapping in boredom against his cape, while Batman was hidden amongst the shadows further to her right. Nightwing was to her left, balancing on top of a pole to give him a bird’s eye view. But, if you asked her, he was simply showing off. Everyone kept their eyes peeled and ears open for a flash of red metal or anything alerting them of their target.

After a while of nothing, Nightwing began to groan. “How do we know this guy is going to show tonight? He may be killing another bust right now, or, god-forbid, sleeping at the current time of midnight.”

“How do we know he doesn’t have a partner? We may be walking into an ambush, Batman,” Robin pipped up, having moved a few containers over for another perch. 

“Ballistics show one gun type with the same bullets, all shot from the same spot. He’s working alone. Gordon sent Sunbird a tip about the trade-off happening here tonight, using the same system that he used for the other tips. The tips that Red Hood ended up busting himself. He found a way onto their link, and he’s shown up the past three times. He’ll be here.” Batman’s voice held no room for arguing, and the birds huffed in silence. 

Just as everyone began to get comfortable once more, Robin’s voice yelled through the comms. It was inaudible and short, and by the time Y/N snapped her eyes to his perch, he was gone. She wanted to yell out for him, but she kept silent, not wanting to alert anyone to her position. Instead, she gracefully leapt down from her perch and quickly rolled to the side, hiding in the shadows beside Batman to gain a plan. He held up his hand to her, silently telling her to stay put as he moved toward the container where Robin had been. 

“‘Wing,” he spoke gruffly, “follow me.” A blur of black and blue jumped from the sky before disappearing behind the container Batman had just gone to. Y/N listened and watched, waiting for any update on if Robin had been found or signs for what had happened. As the minutes ticked by and silent static graced the comms, she grew worried. 

“Batman, Nightwing, what’s happening?” She whispered, her teeth nervously chewing at her bottom lip. They were fine, they had to be, they’re Batman and Nightwing, the original Wonder Duo. There’s no way anything happened-

“I didn’t kill them if that’s what you’re pittering about.” 

Instantly, Y/N jerked her elbow back to hit the owner of the unexpected voice. However, when her elbow collided with metal, she cursed; both at the pain and the realization of who it was. She turned around, cradling her bruising elbow while looking up at the man before her. He was unfazed by her attacked, hands tucked comfortably in the pockets of his leather jacket and his head tilted to the side. 

“Are they alright?” She questioned, lowering her arm once the pain had subsided. Knowing that Batman and Nightwing had been incapacitated by this man unnerved her.

He scoffed, “They’re fine. The bat and Nightwing are knocked out. They should really look into helmets. I’m sure they sell ones that brood.”

“What, like yours?” He huffed a laugh at her reply, and she could only picture a smirk under the hood. “What about Robin?” she asked, noticing Red Hood stiffen at the mention of the youngest member. A glint from an overhead dock light fell across his helmet, giving him a darker look. Y/N could see his fists clench in his jacket pocket while he paused. 

“The replacement is fine. Knocked out like the others,” he finally spat after a moment. Confusion fell across Y/N’s face as she took a step back, trying to work out what he meant. “I was never worried about the cut he gave you scarring your pretty face, I’ll admit. And now that I get to see it up close, I was right to think it’d make you even more badass. Bet the gash on your shoulder is even better. Took a chunk right out of you.”

“Jason.” His name was more of breath rather than a word as it left her mouth, disbelief keeping her from reaching out. “It can’t be.”

“Missed you too, Sunbird.” The pet name Jason had given Y/N all those years ago being spoken by him nearly brought her to her knees. “I’m honored that you used your nickname to become a sidekick.”

Disregarding the jab at her occupation, Y/N took a shaky step forward. “Let me see you. Let me know it’s really you.” While the fact of her pet name should’ve been enough proof, she still needed to see him. To see Jason Todd again. “Please,” she whispered in desperation. 

He paused for a second before sighing, “Never could say no to you.” Red Hood reached up and clasped at the underside of his helmet, his fingers working until a mechanical hiss filled the air followed by smoke. The helmet was removed and held under his arm while Y/N gasped quietly. “Still handsome, I hope,” he joked, quirking his lips in a toothy smirk.

“Jason,” she breathed once more, finally believing that the man she loved was standing in front of her. His hair was shorter, flat against his forehead from the helmet, and his eyes were hidden behind a domino mask; but it was Jason, there was no denying it now. Unable to restrain herself any longer, Y/N barreled forward, crashing into his chest and causing him to drop his helmet. She wanted to be mad at him for killing people, for not telling her that he was alive, but in that moment she couldn’t feel anger towards him. Jason squeezed her tight, dropping his head to the top of hers, and breathed deeply as Y/N clutched the back of his leather jacket. 

“I saw your body- I saw… After the explosion, before Bruce got to us, I got free and felt your heart stop. I watched them bury you. I’ve been to your grave every month,” she rambled, shaking her head against his padded chest. “I’ve never stopped crying for you.”

Jason held her tighter. “I did die. I was dead for six months.” 

Y/N looked up sharply at his confession, removing herself from his arms. “You’ve been alive for six years, and I haven’t known?”

He reached out for her, grabbing ahold of her shaking hand. “Sunbird, listen-“

“Jason, I needed you!” She interrupted, her voice pitched with hurt. “I was alone, nobody understood what I was going through. I shouldn’t have lived, but I did, and I hated myself for it every day. Bruce hated me for it; I was the reason his son was dead. It should’ve been me,” she croaked as her voice broke at the end, tears slipping down her cheeks while she looked up at Jason. 

“No, don’t say that. I thought you were dead. Talia told me you had died! When I came back, I read your obituary. Everyone said that you had died with me, and I believed it because if I had died so did you. I didn’t find out you were alive until two weeks ago,” he explained, running his thumb over her calloused knuckles. “It killed me, twice over, thinking that I had been brought back to life while you were still dead.” Y/N reeled at all the information, her breath hitching in shock. 

“The world had to think she was dead. If the Joker found out she had lived, he wouldn’t stop looking for her,” a voice spoke from behind Jason, causing the boy (now a man) to quickly turn around. His body instinctively stepped in front of Y/N’s, arms raised for a fight. But instead of one of his targets holding a gun, it was Batman and Nightwing. Jason stared at both of them, noticing the way they had aged in the past six years. While Y/N had grown from a fifteen-year-old to a twenty-one-year-old, the older vigilantes both seemed aged past their years. A part of Jason wanted to reach out for them as he did Y/N, but he held himself back. He came to Gotham for a purpose, and this wasn’t it. 

“So, let me get this straight,” Jason began, ignoring the looks of shock on their faces and refusing them the chance to ask any questions, “the Joker gets to live, but we had to die?”

“It’s not like that,” Nightwing began and took a step in front of Batman before Jason laughed bitterly.

“No, Boy Wonder, that’s exactly what it’s like. Batman’s refusal to kill resulted in the deaths of two innocent lives, while the monster responsible gets to breathe, laugh, and walk freely. He cares more about keeping a good image than your own family,” he spat, continuing to stand in front of Y/N defensively. Batman kept silent as Jason vented, giving Nightwing’s sleeve a slight tug to pull him to the side.

“Jay, come back with us.” Y/N reached her hand out, grabbing onto Jason’s larger one with a soft touch to try and gentle his rage. “We can all sort this out, figure out where to go from here.”

Looking over his shoulder at the girl he presumed lost forever, Jason shook his head. “I can’t, Sunbird. Somebody has to kill Joker, and that somebody is me.”

Y/N gripped his hand tighter, “Don’t, please. I can’t lose you to my father again.”

Batman stepped closer to Jason, holding out his hand. “Listen to her. Come home, Jason. We’ve all missed you,” he pleaded, trying to find any sign of agreement on his son’s face. 

Instead, Jason laughed bitterly, sending chills down the following vigilantes’ spines. “I don’t have a home with you anymore, B. This doesn’t end until I have his brains splattered over a crowbar,” Jason sneered, turning away to give Y/N one last look. “When this is over, I’ll find you.” From a normal stance, his words should’ve sounded creepy, but all they did was give Y/N hope.

“Jason-” But before Y/N could grab ahold of the boy she had watched die, Jason slipped from her grasp. 

All Writing Taglist (OPEN- also, I know it’s been a while, so if you want removed please message me): @teageowen​ @mads---world​ @alex--awesome--22​ @hxdesworld​ @frozenhuntress67​ @samanthasmileys​ @simonsaysyasss​ @marvelismylifffe​ @bademliimagnum​ @wherewecangazeintothestars​ 

[segafan37]

Shadamy Snippets: A Chance Meeting

[Shadow's p.o.v.]

I stared at the cars and people entering and exiting the parking lot. A worker was helping an elderly couple load their groceries. A group of teenagers stood around a car trying to act cool while bobbing their heads to some music. I saw a large mouse family pushing three carts toward the store. Each cart had about 3 to 5 small children inside. The children were all talking at once and playing with each other as their parents and a teen mouse pushed the carts. I then turned my gaze to a red female fox walking back to her vehicle, pushing a cart that held her two little ones: a boy and a girl. The girl was a sky blue, and the boy was a bright orange. They looked about the same age.

Maybe they were twins?

I tried to hold back a smile. I liked being here; listening to the mingled noise of the store, and watching the cars and people go by... The people I was sworn to protect. It was... relaxing. I took a sip of my cappuccino, as I relished these thoughts.

Mmm, that barista girl really knows how to make a GOOD cappuccino!

I took another sip as I viewed the dark clouds in the sky.

Looks like it's going to rain. I guess the weather report was wrong, again!

My multipurpose communicator beeped a reminder.

"Examine Star Case Files"

"Well, back to work." I groaned.

On my motorcycle, it takes me 30 minutes to get back to the hidden entrance of the Mobian's G.U.N. base and the way the weather was looking, I knew that I should probably be heading out now. 

I started rising from my chair, but something inside stopped me. It was like I was glued to my seat. Although, if I was being honest, I'd say I didn't want to go. I looked at my communicator again. The digital clock read 1pm.

"You got more than a half an hour left, Shadow!" I reassured myself. "You can stay for another 15 minutes."

I smiled, snoozed the reminder, and gazed back at the window. I was relieved that I didn't have to head back to work, just yet. I closed my eyes to engulf myself in the sounds of all that surrounded me. 

Car doors slam, horns beep, shopping carts rattle and squeak. Feet shuffle across the floor, children laugh, friends talk about work, love, school, and life. Workers greet, bar scanners beep and chairs glide across the floor. People serve, people eat, people drink, and people speak. 

These people... are why I am here.

I guess I was so entranced in my peace of mind that I didn't hear someone come up beside me. My ears twitched when I heard a female voice say my name. 

"Shadow?"

I opened my eyes and turned my head to see the one and only Amy Rose. 

"Amy?"

Her eyes widened with delight, and mine with shock. It has been over 7 years since I last saw Miss Rose, when we both attended Vector's wedding.

"Amy." I said again.

"Shadow!"

"How have you been!?" We were both surprised that we said it in unison. She kind of yelled it, but I just spoke it.

We laughed a little at ourselves. I stepped off my bar stool, suddenly feeling okay to leave it, and stepped back to get a good look at Amy. She was older, obviously, and had grown to almost reach my eye level. Her iconic red head band was gone and her quills were longer, the ends just reaching past her shoulders. Her dress was different too. It was still red, but was flowy, lacked the white trim, had short sleeves, and rested below her knees. The only thing about her appearance that was the same were her gold bracelets, boots, and white gloves and socks. (However, her socks were no longer rolled up.)

I was kind of bewildered by her new look. I liked it!

"You look.." I paused and gazed her over again "Good! You look good!" My voice had a hint of excitement to it. She smiled and shrugged.

"Thanks! I feel great, actually! And you look...", she paused, looking me over, "Um?.. Good, too!? The same, but good!"

I chuckled sarcastically. "Wow! Thanks! What a compliment! I feel very special. I'm blushing in fact. You can't see it cuz of my dark fur, but it's there!"

Amy blushed. Her back stiffened and her shoulders went up.

"Oh! Shadow, you know I didn't mean it like that!"

Inwardly, I smiled. That's the Amy I know.

"It's just that,.." she continued, "you're the Ultimate Lifeform! No matter the time span, you'll always look the same."

I sighed and gave an eye roll. I knew she was right and wasn't trying to be rude. I was just slightly annoyed, that she couldn't think of something better to say. Was it that hard for people to see that I've changed?

"Yeah, well, I'm not entirely the same." I retorted.

"Oh!?"

"Yeah! For one, I've grown, height and mass wise." I saw Amy give off a weird face.

Why did I say that!?

But I just continued.

"My voice has more base, if you hadn't noticed. And I work now as the Commander of G.U.N."

After Amy heard the last bit, her weird face disappeared and was replaced with a look of disbelief. 

"You're the Commander of G.U.N.?" she slowly asked, pointing a finger at me.

I folded my arms. "Don't look so surprised! I used to be G.U.N.'s top agent, once upon a time!" I said, not hiding my annoyance. I had taken Amy's question as an insult, but her next action proved I was mistaken.

"Shadow, that's incredible! What an honor! You're G.U.N.'s first Mobian Commander!"

I blushed and gave off a small chuckle.

"Yeah, well, with great power comes great responsibility."

Man! That was dumb!

If Amy thought it was dumb, she didn't show it. She just giggled and leaned towards me.

"I see you're blushing!" she teased. "I guess you can see a blush through that dark fur!"

I rolled my eyes and smirked. 

"You got me there!"

She laughed. I looked behind me to see if anyone was listening. Of course, no one was. Everyone was too busy in their own world to care about us. I turned to look at Amy again, who was still in her mocking position. I noticed the 'Sweet Bun' sub and drink in her hands.

She must have came up here to sit down and have lunch.

"Hey, would you like a seat?" I pointed to an empty bar stool next to mine.

She rose to her full height as she spoke, "Oh! Thanks! Probably be best."

Amy placed her things on the bar table and took the seat next to mine, as I returned back to my own.

* * * * * * * * *

[Amy's p.o.v.]

As our conversation went on, I couldn't help but notice that there was a change in Shadow. I already saw the difference. He was balanced. However, speaking with him more made the balance more noticeable, and made me to question.

What has happened to him?

I couldn't put my finger on it! Physically, he looked the same, an attribute I knew came with being the Ultimate Lifeform, and his demeanor was still stern and austere, yet his vibe was more relaxed and... friendly!

As I sat listening to the black hedgehog, with my face resting in my palms, I couldn't help but stare, a bit dreamily. His words became muffled, as I thought more of our past, his transformation, and our friendship. I admired him. 

That's when I decided,

I like him this way!

I didn't notice that Shadow had stopped talking and was looking at me a bit confused and alarmed. I guess he caught me staring at him.

"What!? Is there something on my face?"

"Oh! Uh.. no!.. I", I stammered. I could feel my face grow red. I swallowed and took a breath.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare. It's just..." I trailed off, as I looked into his eyes, "I-I can't help but notice the change in you."

"You mean I'm not as grim or stiff as before." he stated, bluntly.

"Pretty much!" I smiled nervously, " What caused you to be different?"

Shadow furrowed his brows and looked toward the window.

Oh, no! Did I say something wrong!?

"Do you know why I was so grim before?", he asked, still gazing at the window.

Was that a rhetorical question? 

"Well.." I started.

"Because the world was in danger!" he firmly interjected. "Eggman was threatening to conquer the world, and I couldn't rest until he was subdued! These people," he gestured his hand toward the window, "deserve to live in safety and have the chance for happiness. I gave a promise long ago to protect the world, and I will do everything in my power to keep it! So, when Eggman and all his evil was destroyed, I was able to breathe." 

His voice held such determination and passion, that it was inspiring. He turned back to me. His eyes were sparkling once more and he wore a small smile. I refrained myself from giving any dreamy stares. 

I knew he wasn't a cruel being as some perceived him to be.

"And then this is where my study of psychology came in."

"I see, but you still work for G.U.N. Why?" I asked.

"Because the bad guys are still out there. With people like Starline and the Deadly Six wandering about, you can't stop."

"Shadow." I said, thoughtfully.

"Yeah?"

"I like you this way!" I concluded."You've really grown!" He laughed.

"Well, I didn't know my behavior was being quizzed under your 'Self-Improvement Test,.." I started to laugh. He did not just say that! "But I'm glad I passed!", he said with a triumphant smile. 

"I didn't mean it like that!", I protested, giving him a shove. He laughed. "I'm just glad that you've loosened up a bit, so that the world can see the good person that I already saw in you."

Shadow opened his mouth to speak, but then smiled. I smiled back. His red, powerful eyes gazed into mine intently, but I wasn't afraid. They were lovely; the eyes of a dear friend that I had almost forgotten. Another loud beeping interrupted the moment. Shadow looked at his wristwatch and turned it off.

"Work?" I asked.

"Yeah. Duty calls!" Shadow said, as he mounted off his stool and grabbed his leather jacket. I followed suit.

"I should probably head out, too. I don't want to get caught in the rain."

"You think it's going to rain, too!?"

"Of course! Have you seen those clouds!? The weather report is never right!"

He laughed. "True that!"

We walked down the stairs and out of the building, stopping just in front of Kangaroo Kroger's front entrance. A silence fell between us as we turned to face each other.

* * * * * * * * *

[Shadow's p.o.v.]

"Yeah! See ya around."

As Amy turned to walk away, I felt that I had forgot something. But what was it? Before I fully understood what I was doing, I called out to her.

"Welp!" Amy started, breaking the silence. "I'll see you around, Shadow!"

"Amy, wait!"

She stopped and looked at me with concern.

"What is it Shadow?"

I began rubbing the back of my neck as I slowly said my reply.

"Can I... give you a hug?" My arms were outstretched and I wore a sheepish grin, with my head slightly down. I felt kind of stupid asking this when we both were about to leave, but I didn't want to let her go, until we had done this. I saw her face questioning my motives. 

"I don't want to leave without giving you a proper goodbye."

She smiled and answered warmly "Of course!"

We hugged, a short, friendly side hug. I got a whiff of her hair. It smelled nice.

I wonder what shampoo she uses?

"It was good catching up with you, Amy." I said, as we broke from the hug. "I really enjoyed it."

"Me too!" she agreed with a smile. And with that she turned on her heels and waved goodbye. 

"Bye Shadow!"

"Bye Amy! I'll catch you later!"

I didn't know then how true those words would be.

.

.

.

Exsert from Shadamy fanfic "12 Years Later: A New Dawn". You can read the rest of this chapter and more on Wattpad, DeviantArt, Quotev, or Webnovel.

[all-hailtheking]

Hello King!! Can I ask for Soundwave x Human! Reader? Maybe a little bit of angst but ends with fluff? It can be any form you want (headcannons etc) Also! Congratulations on creating a blog!! Can't wait to see more lovely works from you!

(Hiya, thank you for the love! I’m glad you enjoy my writing so far. I hope you like this! 🌺💜🌺)

Imagine Soundwave’s S/O being taken by the Autobots

Standing in the middle of the Jasper, Nevada’s empty and rock-filled landscape would have been a whole lot nicer if the Autobots didn’t come when they did. You were supposed to be stargazing with Soundwave, but apparently, the world wasn’t in the mood for that. Standing on top of one of the many rocky columns found in the nowhere deserts of Jasper, Soundwave and you were enjoying some much-needed silence away from the boisterous Nemesis. Both of you recognized the sound of a ground-bridge opening and were then greeted by the roar of several engines.

Bumblebee, Arcee, and Optimus Prime we’re now aiming their blasters at the TIC. “Soundwave, leave the human child alone or we will be forced to take fire.” Soundwave simply shook his helm and opened a ground-bridge next to him. He then gently picked you up with his slender digits and casually walked through it as if nothing had happened. “We can’t just let the Decepticons keep that human. There’s no telling what they’ll do!” Arcee grumbles to herself and her teammates. “We will rescue the human, Arcee. Ratchet, we need a ground-bridge. Soundwave has returned to the Nemesis.” Optimus states. The only reply he had was an agitated mumble of, “I just sent you there…”

“Soundwave, I’ve gotta go! I can’t miss another day of work!” You say, attempting to persuade the silent mech. His only response was yet another shake of his helm as he continued to type away on his monitors. Of course, he knew you needed to go, but he had to be cautious now that the Autobots knew of his human. He wasn’t letting you out of his sights. No Autobot was going to take what he claimed as his own. He had lost too much already, so adding you to that list was a no go.

“Soundwave, I’m going to get fired if I don’t leave soon! They probably think I’m playing hooky and I need this job in order for me to have food. Please, I’ll be careful! You can even have Breakdown take me if you don’t feel comfortable with me going alone.” This time he stays silent and makes no movement to indicate his response. His digits stop typing and his helm raises up slightly. Soundwave then puts to digits to his helm and seems to relay a message to someone using broken audio fragments. Next, he turns towards you and nods, though he slightly flinches when he sees Breakdown make his way into the central command.

“You commed, Soundwave?” The bulkier blue mech spoke with a slight hint of confusion. “You shall- escort- (Y/n) to- her- work-.” Breakdown nodded his head and quickly transformed into his vehicle mode. “Sure thing. Hop on in, (Y/n).” You merely agreed and waved goodbye and blew a kiss towards Soundwave. A large blue and green ground-bridge opened before the blue-clad vehicle, causing said cybertronian to rev his engines.

After an hour of driving with Breakdown, you both finally arrived at work. “Thanks again, Breakdown. You’re a true blessing.” “Not a problem. Call me on my commlink, or contact Soundwave, when your shift is over.” He spoke, opening his passenger door. “Alright. See you later.” He then left as you began to head inside the KO Burger. Of course, being a manager had its perks, but you couldn’t abandon the fast food joint to your immature coworkers.

“Hey, Jack. I need you to man the drive-through. Amanda, I need you and Tim to man the registers. Everyone else, you know where to go.” As everyone began to make the way to their respective positions, you found Jack walking up to you. “What’s the matter, Jack?” The teen simply shrugged his shoulders. “I needed to talk to you, but I guess we’ll have to do that later. Is that alright?” You simply nodded and went to go talk to your boss.

After what felt like an hour, you were already done with your shift. As you were walking out of the burger joint, you find yourself without a ride. Darn your forgetful mind. “Hey, (Y/n). Remember how I need to talk to you?” ‘Nice, that’s two in a row.’ You thought to yourself. Quickly turning on your heels and made your way towards the black-haired boy. “Sure thing. Whatcha wanna talk about?” You ask, walking towards him and his motorcycle. “Where have you been recently? I know you don’t have to work every day, but you’ve nearly missed a week’s worth. Is something up?” He asks, concerned. “No, just had some family matters pop up that I had to deal with. My boyfriend was also being really protective. He had some stuff happen and didn’t trust letting me leave until he felt I would be safe.”

The Darby boy nodded. “Well, how about I take you home? Your ride doesn’t seem to be here.” I chuckle and shake my head. “Nah, don’t worry. He’ll be here soon. I just have to let him know that my shift is over.” The black-haired boy was then slightly pushed forward from some strange force. He then mumbled under his breathe towards the bike, “What the heck was that for, Arcee?” You tilted your head in confusion, only catching a few words. You didn’t trust this anymore; not when he made mention of an Autobot’s name.

“Well, I’m gonna go call him. Thanks anyway, Jack.” You say as you wave to the teen and walk back over to the fast-food building. “(Y/n), wait. I can stay with you until he shows up. I don’t wanna leave you alone; even though you’re an adult… I just don’t want you waiting alone.” He said, shaking his head from embarrassment. You rolled your eyes and shrugged. “Do what you wanna do.” His eyes then meet yours with a blushing smile.

Taking your phone out, you dial Breakdown’s commlink, knowing he’d be a better pick up than Soundwave because Jack is still present. “Hey, can you come and get me? My shift just ended. Yeah, take the back route. I know it’s safer for you that way.” You said, using your own code so that he knew not to ground bridge in close by. “Remember to wear your seatbelt, alright? I don’t need you getting caught without it.” “I’ll be sure to have it around me. See ya soon. BD out.” He replied. “Jack, my ride will be here in a few minutes. You can head home now.” “No, I said I’d wait until your ride got here.” What a hardheaded kid.

As you saw Breakdown pulling in, you saw a nice green Jeep following suit. You then begin to hop into the car, only to be pulled out of it by two teens. “(Y/n), it’s not safe!” Jack yells as he and Miko yank you back. “(Y/n)!” Breakdown’s holoform hollers, hopping out of his vehicle mode, only to be stopped by a tall black man in a green t-shirt. “We’re taking the human with us. She doesn’t belong with you, Decepticons.” The teens then put you into the back of Bulkhead’s vehicle mode. “Jack, you could be fired and reported for kidnap if you don’t let me out!” Jack only gulps and runs back over to Arcee.

Bulkhead then revs his engine as his holoform fizzles out and Miko climbs in. Your form gets wrapped tightly in your seat belt by your captor. Breakdown speeds after them, attempting to ram into the Green Autobot, only to completely miss as they take a sharp turn. “GIVE HER BACK, BULKHEAD!” The blue-clad Decepticon yells. “Never! Humans aren’t toys to be played with! She is safer away from you cons,” Bulkhead calls as he and Arcee enter a large ground-bridge, most likely heading towards their base. “Soundwave. They have her.”

Oh, he is beyond pissed. Soundwave has been through enough loss in his long life. Losing you is the final straw. He opens a ground-bridge and allows Breakdown to return to his hab-suite. He’s going to find you, even if it’s the last thing he does.

As everyone enters the Autobot base, Bulkhead is quick to get you out of his vehicle mode. “Stop kicking me! I’m trying to help you!” You kick his center consol one more time before being forced out. “You aren’t helping anyone! I was happy where I was and who I was with! You can’t just kidnap someone! Jack and whatever that chick’s name is could be facing time in a juvenile detention center for this!” You scream, pointing at the two teenagers. “Child, you are safer here than with the Decepticons-”

“Like hell, I am! I’m not a child! I’m a full-grown adult! You just kidnapped me from my workplace in broad daylight while my friend was trying to take me back to my boyfriend, and you’re telling me you’re safer?! So what if I’m friends with a Decepticon!? You have no right to take me somewhere without my consent!” Optimus then attempts to speak again, but you cut him off in a full rage. “I have been living with the Decepticons for the past three years and they have yet to do me wrong, yet! You haven’t even known me for two minutes and you’ve already kidnapped me and claim to be the better choice!”

“I understand your lack of trust in us after being taken here against your will. My teammates never meant to cause you any harm. They were trying to protect you from the Decepticons. We have been enemies with them for a long time now, so we wish not to have you harmed in a war you have no need in being apart of.” Optimus speaks, his voice gentle and sincere. “Then, I would greatly appreciate being returned to them. If you wish to see me safe so badly and have me take no part in this, then let me be with the Decepticons. Taking me away from them is causing more problems than I think you really see. I was happy and safe there. I was not their toy, as ludicrous as it sounds. ”

After speaking with Optimus more, you were able to have him let you go as long as he swore to leave me off the battlefields. “Just open a ground-bridge to a random location in Nevada. Soundwave will find me and take me back.” As unhappy as the Autobots are about your choice of sides, they seem to understand why you were upset. You had grown attached to the inhabitants of the Nemesis. They were family to you. Now, you need to return to Soundwave. Your energy was dropping quickly after the massive amount of emotional stress that today had brought. Maybe you could snuggle up against Soundwave’s neck? Just, resting close to him makes you feel so very comfortable and at ease.

Opening yet another ground-bridge, you have the Autobot Leader following behind you. Optimus Prime is the first to exit the swirling green and blue portal. Not two minutes later, Soundwave is found flying in. Mid-air, the purple, and black mech transforms and lands before both you and the Prime. “You will return- (Y/n)- to me-, Prime!” Different audio recordings speak for Soundwave. Optimus begins to walk forward, only to be forced to the ground by one of Soundwave’s tentacle-like appendages in a quick and harsh slam. “(Y/n) can- walk- to me- alone.” Optimus’ only reply is a groan of pain as he doesn’t struggle beneath the Soundwave’s grasp. You then begin to walk towards your beloved mech with a bright smile. “They didn’t hurt me, ‘Wave. It was all an attempt to rescue me from you all, but they know where I belong now.” Soundwave merely nodded and picked you up as he released Optimus. He then transformed around you and took you back to the Nemesis without another word.

As Optimus began to pick himself up, he questions in a mumbling tone to himself. “Why would Megatron send Soundwave to retrieve this human? What is (Y/n)’s importance to them?”

Once both of you returned to the Nemesis, Soundwave returns to his bipedal form with you in his servo. A quiet chuckle leaves your lips as his digits begin to gently press against your exposed skin. His visor turns to life once more, but a purple smiley face appears. His servo then raises to his shoulder to allow you to sit; instead of him holding you like a maraca. You quickly climb on and snuggle up against his neck. “Thank you for getting me, ‘Wave.” Carefully, he nods back and lets his digits gently rub the top of your head.

“How did you find me so quickly?” You ask in a tired tone, beginning to get tired because of how relaxing Soundwave’s digits are on your scalp. “Response: Will never stop looking for you.” With a large grin on your sleepy face, you calmly rise from your curled up position, only to place a gentle kiss on the side of Soundwave’s visor. “Thank you.”

((This fic is 2,180 words long and I am PROUD!))

(I hope you all enjoyed! I’m sorry this took so long, but I am extremely proud of how this turned out! I had so much fun writing this!🌺💜 Thank you @honeysugacube for requesting and being patient!)

[missnmikaelson-main]

Blood Moon Rising: Chapter 1

Here we have it: the shortly awaited sequel to the Forgotten. Years have gone by. The Mikaelson family has grown and known something they known since they were human: peace.

But peace makes for a boring story.

So buckle up everyone because we are in for a ride.

We're gonna have some laughs.

We're gonna shed some tears.

And if I do my job right we'll be on the edge of our seats more than once.

The Blood Moon is Rising...

Both girls were sprawled on their stomachs before the Christmas tree with their ankles crossed in the air, and per their tradition they wore matching onesie; this year the pattern was snowflakes on a classic plaid.

Kol watched from the sofa as his daughter and niece flipped through a glossy magazine. Neither girl truly cared for fashion, but with the school's New Year’s Eve ball around the corner both had decided it was time to take an interest; if they left it to Rebekah, as they normally would, then floor length gowns and sleek up-do’s would be involved, and it was quite simply not that kind of party.

It was a high school dance masquerading as a ball.

"You know if you two don't go to bed soon Santa won't come,” he felt Elena shake with laughter at his side. He slipped his fingers through her hair.

"Dad," Eve rolled her eyes, "we've known the truth about Santa Clause for a while now."

"Who said anything about Santa Clause?” Elena cracked an eye open; her husband's heart beat under her ear. "Even if he did exist I'm certain everyone in this house would be on the naughty list."

They were cousins, but everything about them screamed sisters; from their attire to the way they tilted their heads.

Even their quizzical looks were similar.

"I'm talking about Santa Klaus,” he smirked. "The not so jolly, un-sainted fiend your aunt Caroline forces into a red suit every year."

His voice strained under suppressed amusement.

A warm glow flowed through Elena.

"What?" Eve did a half push up.

"Are you telling us that my dad dresses up as Santa every year?" Hope's features grew animated. "How did we not know this?"

"He wanted to make sure you never saw him," he propped his chin on Elena's head.

"Hope?" Mischief glowed in Eve's eyes. “Suddenly I'm exhausted."

"Me too,” she faked a yawn.

Eve grinned. She jumped up, kissed Kol and Elena's cheeks and wished her parents goodnight.

Elena listened to them pass through the halls and wish Klaus and Elijah goodnight.

She turned her head, brushing his collarbone with the tip of her nose.

"You know they're not going to bed, right?” She mumbled, twisting just enough to lazily kiss his neck.

"I know, darling,” he chuckled, already picturing Klaus' face when the girls showed up – probably via astral projection.

"What'd he ever do to you?” She snuggled into his arms, practically crawling into his lap.

“Seriously, darling?” Disbelief coloured his tone.

"I meant recently," she mumbled. She would have rolled her eyes if she could have opened them.

"Oh, recently...” he hummed, tipping his head back and playing with her hair. "... recently, nothing."

"Okay,” she shifted, getting more comfortable.

"Okay,” he kissed her hair. He could hear her heart slowing and her breath evening out. "Should we head off to bed?"

She mumbled something that sounded vaguely negative.

"You’re sleeping in the sitting room,” he felt his eyes droop, “on top of me."

"You’re comfy,” she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, “and I want to see Santa Klaus."

"You could just tell me what you want for Christmas,” he snickered.

"I just did."

He probably could have stayed awake, but her soft warmth seeped into his mind and he drifted off.

He jerked awake when Klaus yelped and girlish giggles filled the sitting room.

Klaus spun, looming over the couple on the couch, voice rising with his blood pressure.

“You two did this," he roared, motioning toward the laughing teenagers.

"Just him actually,” Elena blinked. She smirked up at her husband. “What do you think, babe? Should we get him a big armchair? We could put it between the fire and the tree; the kids can tell him what they want for Christmas."

Klaus turned vermillion.

Elijah came through the door with Freya and Rebekah; Finn and Sage were on their heels.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?” Rebekah struggled to hide her laughter.

"Dad's...” Eve gasped, clutching her ribs. "Dad's gonna move the chair, and Mom is getting a camera."

"Nobody said anything about a camera,” Klaus' eyes widened. He wheeled on his niece.

Elena tapped Kol's chest with the back of her hand. "We could all take one; I see next year's Christmas cards."

Elena didn't realize how loud they were being until she felt the air shift and her eleven year old son appeared.

Erik miscalculated the distance though and stumbled over the arm of the coach, falling on top of his laughing parents.

"Wrong lap, Rik," Hope doubled over, laughing.

He blinked, groggy from being awoken at a late hour, and confused by the raucous laughter of his family. It took him a moment to realize that his uncle wore a red hat and suit.

When he did notice he tipped his head up to his mother.

"You never told me it was Santa Klaus," he pushed his bangs back. "Think of all the postage I wasted."

++++

Every year she questioned the ability of the compound to accommodate their allies. As time passed and the family grew they had to fit more and more people until they couldn't see across the dance floor for the crowd, but this year was different.

They had transformed the courtyard into the perfect spot for the school dance.

She still wasn't sure how they had done it.

It was Kol's fault, though she suspected Klaus had been involved. They had both freaked when Erik revealed his cousin and sister were 'really looking forward to the party’; his exaggerated tone had been accentuated by kissing sounds.

By the time she and Hayley caught the kids Hope and Eve had tied Erik to a chair and were getting ready to dye his hair bright purple, and their fathers had caused just enough damage to relocate the ball.

She leaned one elbow on the counter, flagging down the bartender they had brought in for the evening.

"Scotch and soda on the rocks, and bourbon, neat," her eyes flickered over the crowd in search of her children.

"I'm gonna need to see your ID, miss,” he wiped up a spill.

She tried to hide her annoyance. It was hardly his fault that she was an eternal teenager, or that her children looked more like younger siblings. It was hardly his fault that he had to ask for ID.

It was Kol’s fault, and maybe Klaus’; and a little bit hers…definitely Caroline's.

She was the one who compelled the bartender. No teens would be getting drunk on their watch.

It would seem eternal teenagers were included.

"No, you don't,” she met his eyes, attempting to compel him. It was a shame that Caroline had put the guy on vervain in preparation for those students who were vampires.

"No ID, no drinks,” he shrugged. "I don't make the rules."

She sighed, spinning away from the bar and pushing through the crowd of teenagers. If she was going to deal with her overprotective husband and his brother then she was going to need a drink. She was certain she would have to sneak into the study for Klaus' private stash, but then a few kids moved and she spied her solution and sidled up to it.

"How's my favourite brother-in-law," she shifted on her feet, making her powder blue skirt twirl around her knees, “other than incredibly handsome."

"Should I be jealous?" Sage appeared at his other side with a smirk and a twinkle in her eyes.

"What do you want, Elena?" He chuckled.

"Drinks...” she smiled hopefully, while motioning over her shoulder, "Caroline's handiwork."

"Scotch and soda?"

"And a bourbon, please and thank you,” she turned to Sage when he moved through the crowd. "You'd think Caroline would have made exceptions."

"It was last minute,” Sage shrugged. "She was a little crazy this morning. Couldn't Kol have gotten your drinks?"

"Without causing a scene?" Elena cocked an eyebrow.

"Fair point,” she laughed, "he doesn't look much older than you."

"Especially since he shaved,” she glanced toward her husband. He was holding Erik's sleeve, nodding slowly as Erik talked; they looked like brothers.

"Here you are," Finn materialized, passing her two glasses.

"Ah, thank you," she stretched up, pecking his cheek. "You're an angel," she backed into the crowd. "Seriously, I see wings."

She slipped between witches, vampires and wolves until she was on the edge of the dancefloor. With the added room she could walk freely, and she used her newfound freedom to sashay toward her boys.

"What are my favorite troublemakers up to?” She tilted her head. Erik pressed his lips together and lowered his eyes, mumbling under his breath in the hope that she wouldn't hear.

She did.

"Erik Henrik Mikaelson,” she would have put her hands on her hips if they weren't full, “what have I told you about doing things that will annoy your sister?"

"I'm not trying to annoy her,” he protested.

"No,” Elena drew out the word, shaking her head, "you're just trying to embarrass her by tricking your father into creating a public scene which you know he will do. Now, go and find your friends."

"Yes, mom," he hurried off.

“I'd better not find you spiking the punch with Freya's tequila later," she called after him. Once he was out of earshot she placed the glass of bourbon in Kol's hand.

"Thank you,” he sipped, staring onto the dancefloor.

"Thank Finn," she drank half her glass, "because I forgot my ID."

"That's nice," he mumbled, staring straight ahead.

"Care compelled the bartender,” she went on, tilting her head when he hummed. She followed his gaze and she found Eve's full black shirt spinning around her legs as she was twirled by a laughing Milton Greasley. She wondered how far she could go before the words registered.

"I'm thinking about getting a tattoo,” she nursed her drink.

"That's nice, love,” he blinked.

Her eyes cut to his vacant face and then around the room, lighting on the one person with the same intent expression.

"A paw print on my lower back," she finished her drink, rolling her eyes when he just nodded again. “Yeah, I thought Klaus might like it... sort of like a claiming thing... you know we've been having an affair for ten years."

"Mmhmm...”

"In fact I think we're gonna sneak off in a few minutes for some hot sex..." another vague noise, “… or maybe we'll just throw down right here."

“Eve might find that embarrassing,” his tongue was heavy with sarcasm.

"More or less embarrassing then having her father stare at her and her friend?" She placed her empty glass on a passing server's tray.

"More," he downed his bourbon, "though not as much as when I tear out Niki's liver and feed it too him."

"Leave your brother alone,” she turned him by his lapels and then smoothed his black jacket.

"As long as he leaves my wife alone,” he placed his hands on her hips.

"You know I don't go for blondes,” she caught his jaw, turning his face away from Eve. "Stop spying on her."

"That boy's not good enough."

"Okay,” she held his face, "firstly, MG is her friend, and just her friend; trust me, I know the signs of a girl experiencing her first love. And secondly, is there any boy who will ever be good enough for your baby girl?"

“Of course not," he snorted, “no boys, no girls... nothing. She is too young."

"She's seventeen," Elena laughed, "I was dating Stefan at her age."

"If I hold Eve to your standards then she'll be jumping through time within a year and falling in love with a psychotic maniac."

"Well, you can't stop love,” she smirked, kissing his cheek. “Now, stop spying on her and ask your beautiful wife to dance."

"But Eve's going to get her heart broken,” his eyes flitted to the dancefloor.

"I'm pretty sure she'll be the one doing the heartbreaking," she laughed.

The tinkling sound washed over him. The brassbound finished off the final strains of 'When the Saints Go Marching In' and picked up a second tune with the promise of sweet romance in the opening bars.

"I love this song;” she closed her eyes and sighed.

"I know," Kol smiled. His heart warmed when a dreamy expression crossed her features. "May I have this dance?"

She opened her eyes slowly, smiling up at him.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Kol swept her into his arms, twirling her around before pulling her close to his chest and singing the words that had once sent their children off to sleep.

Rebekah watched the pair of them from her vantage point on the stairs. She bent over the railing, tapped Elijah's shoulder and nodded.

“How long before they pull a disappearing act?"

He followed her gaze. "Common courtesy dictates they remain until midnight."

"You're talking about Kol and Elena,” Klaus glared at the boy twirling his daughter around. "When have they ever let courtesy dictate what they do? They'll be gone in ten minutes."

"My money is on the countdown: 8 seconds," Caroline nodded.

"Five minutes til midnight,” Hayley decided.

"I second that," Freya glanced over the crowd.

"I say five seconds,” Rebekah smirked. "What are the stakes?"

"Losers have to clean up the party," Caroline cooked an eyebrow, "without compulsion or vampire speed, or magic."

They all nodded in agreement except for Klaus who was too busy glaring at the punk who had dared to dance with his baby girl.

"Klaus, stop planning Landon's murder,” Caroline rolled her eyes. "He's a phoenix; he'll just come back."

They had discovered Landon's supernatural species a few month's before. Hope had been taking an unauthorized driving excursion, not realizing Landon and Rafael were walking on the back road. Eve had screamed, but the warning was too late coming. Landon came back in flames and Hope triggered her curse; luckily he hadn't held a grudge and had even helped her through the moon.

"I'm not plotting his murder," Klaus growled, "just ways to keep him from kissing my baby girl at midnight.”

"I'm pretty sure they've already kissed,” Caroline exchanged a look with Hayley.

"They have been dating since Halloween,” Hayley nodded.

"What?" Klaus' voice rose to a dangerous level.

Eve's head snapped toward the steps. She listened for a second and then tapped Landon and Hope's shoulders.

"You might want to run," she tilted her head to the steps. “Uncle Nik just found out you're dating."

"You didn't tell your dad?" Landon's dark brows drew together.

"My dad can be over protective," Hope swallowed.

"What’s he gonna do?"

"Let's just say it's a good thing you're immortal,” Eve smirked. “And that Aunt Caroline knows how to distract him."

They all watched as the blonde vampire whispered something in his ear. Nothing on earth would have made Eve use her vampire senses to listen in.

++++

If he had eyes for anyone, or anything, else then he might have noticed his family staring at them. He would have seen the disappointment in Hayley's shoulders, the anticipation in Rebekah's stance, and the flash of Elijah's triumphant grin.

"7... 6... 5..."

He wouldn't have noticed Erik and Eve squabbling in that moment, not in the warmth radiating from her smile.

"4..." Elena tore her eyes away from the clocks to her husband. He was looking at her as if he had never seen anything so beautiful. "3..."

Hunger flashed in his eyes, and like the impulsive vampire he was, he acted.

The compound sped by in a blur of pretty silk and dark fabric.

"2..."

He pressed her to the closed door of their bedroom.

"1..."

Her voice cut off under his lips, and she lost herself in the passionate kiss.

Their breath mingled when he pulled back. She could taste his bourbon on her tongue.

"What was that about?" She peeked up through her lashes.

"What was what about?" He dragged a kiss over her smooth cheeks.

"You stole me from the dancefloor,” she toyed with his jacket.

"I wanted to wish you a happy new year,” he caught her ear between his teeth, “before you left me for my brother."

"How long will it be before you let me live that down?" Her heart fluttered, pumping heat through her veins.

"Maybe in a decade,” he dragged his mouth back to hers, catching her lower lip between his teeth.

"I'm not going anywhere,” she murmured, glancing up.

"You’re not getting bored of me?" He teased

Elena took his right hand from her hip, dragging it toward her breast where he could feel her heart.

"Every time I meet your eyes, my heart turns over,” she breathed. “That hasn't changed, but if you're worried then you could always persuade me."

"And how would I do that?” He arched an eyebrow.

"You could always help me celebrate the New Year," she bit her bottom lip. As she spoke she worked his jacket down his arms. "You know,” she mused, “the only thing better than you in a tux is you out of a tux."

She tore off his bow tie and ripped open his shirt, raining buttons down on the hardwood. She set to work claiming every inch of skin she could reach with her teeth while he shed the remnants of his shirt.

He pushed her against the door, attacking her throat with kisses and blunt teeth, creating hickeys that would be gone in moments.

She reached for his belt and gasped when he spun her around. She grasped the back of his neck, tilting her head for his lips continued assault.

He grasped the zipper that was all but invisible against the nude material of her bodice, dragging it down; knuckles trailing over her spine.

Desire curled along, following his touch and gathering between her legs.

The dress pooled around her feet, leaving her in a strapless bra and underwear.

She twisted in his arms, caught the back of his neck.

His hands slipped up her arms, bringing her closer. He slotted a knee between her thighs and claimed her lips in a soft kiss. It was slow and drugging, growing more urgent when she ground down.

She rolled her hips, riding his knee and humming in the back of her throat as the pleasure mounted. Between his kiss, his roving hands and her rolling hips she could have climaxed right there, but then he reached for his belt.

She sped across the room, shoving him down on the bed.

She shed her underthings and was on top of him before he could say anything, dragging her teeth and lips over his chest and down his stomach; deft fingers unfastened his belt.

She took her time undressing him and kissing every inch of skin hungrily. Finally, when their clothes were gone and every inch of her body hummed with anticipation, she straddled his hips.

She sank down, gasping as he filled her.

She took a moment to revel in the feeling and then planted her hand over his heart and moved, rolling her hips down to where he met her motions.

He flipped her over, pinning her body beneath him.

She hooked her legs around his hips, scratching her nails down his back as he moved faster.

Their harsh breath and the sound of skin on skin were the only sounds in the room.

He moved his lips from her neck to her breast and back to her mouth as he thrust.

Her fingers moved up to tangle in his short hair, and tugged gently when he showed again.

She felt her orgasm approaching in her trembling thighs. He sensed it too and snapped his hips faster.

His lips whispered over her cheeks. His right hand slid down her left arm. Entwining their fingers he held her hand down by her head.

She moaned in his mouth, but broke the kiss to arch her back as he whispered words of love on her skin.

Together they fell apart, collapsing against each other and catching their breath.

She threaded her finger through his hair. Her heel slid down over the back of his leg as he kissed the curve of her breast.

"Kol?” She toyed with his hair.

"Mhmm?" He lifted his head.

She caressed his face. "I love you, Kol,” she kissed the corner of his mouth, “...so much." She kissed him again, pouring her emotions into it.

"You’re just saying that because I made love to you,” he smirked, sliding his hand down her silken belly.

"No," she caressed the back of his head. “I mean it Kol,” she met his eyes. "I always mean it. I love every part of you, and nothing will ever make me stop."

She pushed him to lie on his back and hovered over him. "You’re my darker half. Nobody is complete without a little darkness. You know that, right? You know I love you?"

"Of course I do,” he tucked her hair behind her ear. "You’re the light of my life, the light to my darkness, and I love you."

"You don't say it very often..." she chuckled.

"Yeah?" He smirked. He chuckled when she nodded. “Then allow me to say it now," he rolled her back over, whispering the words in her ear. "I love you, darling,” he kissed her neck, “body," he kissed through the valley of her breasts, "and soul..." he dragged his lips down her stomach.

"I am yours, Elena," he looked up, catching her dark eyes, “and you're mine..."

"Always,” she swore, letting her legs fall open.

"Forever,” he hooked her thighs over his shoulders.

++++

"I'm telling you I won,” Rebekah gloated.

"The five second mark passed,” Elijah shook his head, "so I won."

Caroline rolled her eyes and went back to stacking empty glasses.

"They disappeared before midnight,” she crossed her arms.

"Technically that means neither of you won,” Caroline surveyed the silver confetti, stuck between the stones on the floor.

"Unless we're following the ‘Price is Right' rules,” Hayley leaned on a broom handle, “you know, closest without going over?"

"Why would you say that?" Caroline groaned as the siblings started bickering.

"Kol's not here,” she shrugged, "so there was a vacuum."

Eve and Hope stepped into the courtyard arm-in-arm followed by a yawning Erik, and the twins.

"What are they arguing about?" Eve watched her aunt and uncle.

"And where's the clean-up crew?" Lizzie's shoes dangled from her finger.

"They are arguing about what your parents are doing," Freya gave Erik a one armed hug. At eleven years old he towered over his five foot nothing sister and stood almost eye to eye with Freya. "And as for clean up, we all lost a bet."

"What bet?” Eve frowned. "And what are mom and dad doing?"

Upstairs Klaus carefully pulled the door shut so as not to disturb the couple on the bed before flashing downstairs.

"Your mother and father are sleeping, Eve," he paused at the bottom of the stairs.

"They're sleeping?” Disbelief coloured Rebekah's voice.

"The ripped clothing scattered around the room suggests not," he snorted. “Really sister, when have you known Kol and Elena to just slept?"

"They've done it before," Caroline rolled her eyes.

"On full moons,” Klaus scoffed, "and the moon is not full."

Eve knew she was going to hate herself for asking, but she was pretty sure she had been born without a filter between her brain and mouth.

"What's so special about full moons?"

"Well, sweetheart,” Klaus chuckled-he was more than a little drunk, “the last time they did more than sleep during one you got a little brother."

"I knew I'd regret that," Eve held out her hands. She tipped her head back to look up at her baby brother. "It's a shame they didn't sleep that night."

"Hey," Erik exclaimed. "Maybe they should have slept during your full moon."

++++

The sound of raised voices jerked Kol awake. He blinked, disoriented, and lifted his head.

The familiar sound of his squab ling children reached him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Do you remember when she was excited to have a baby brother?” Rebekah whispered to Freya – she was the one that responded, at least.

"Yeah, but then he arrived and didn't do much for months."

He considered getting up, going downstairs and being the disciplinarian, but that was not how he wanted to start the New Year.

He pulled Elena closer, pressing her back to his chest. With one hand he moved her hair and placed a light kiss on her shoulder. Elena held his arm over her stomach, mumbling unintelligibly and wiggling impossibly close.

This, he decided, was how he wanted to begin 2030.

++++

Caroline slid into the vacant chair with a loaded tray; Elena and Hayley surveyed the mixture of contents.

"Shots?" Elena cooked an eyebrow. She reached for a lime wedge as Caroline poured.

"When is the last time we did shots?" Hayley spun the salt shaker between her fingers.

"It's been a good decade or so," Sage smirked. "Last time we got Elena tequila drunk she went home and made Erik."

"To be fair," she held out her hands, "Kol was wasted that night as well."

"Weren't you on a blood high when you made Eve?"

"Best nights of my life," Elena smirked. "Although, now that I think about it that might have something to do with their chaotic personalities."

"Right,” Caroline passed around the shots, "it has nothing at all to do with their paternal DNA."

Elena eyed the amber liquid with mounting suspicion. There was nothing overtly wrong with tequila, nor was there anything wrong with Caroline's grin, but Caroline's grin partnered with alcohol I was never good.

"What are you up to?"

"I'm not up to anything,” she protested. "It's the first girl's night of the New Year and Rebekah and Freya are on dates. And I have a question that I have been dying to ask since New Year's Day. Well actually it’s been years, but I've always refrained for Bekah and Freya."

Elena downed her shot so she could avoid the look; she knew Caroline was lying.

She had seen something.

"I got to know," she poured Elena a new shot.

Elena closed her eyes, mentally flashing back to the previous afternoon when Kol had her practically bent in half on the library floor. She really should have double checked the door locks.

"That did not look comfortable,” she went on.

"What didn't?” Sage glanced between the women.

Elena flushed as Caroline described the position none of them had ever heard of.

"So your weight was on your hands?" Hayley took the way Elena started chugging from the bottle as a yes.

A pleasant burn began to spread through Elena's extremities.

She put down the empty bottle.

"Okay,” she smiled, "I'm drunk enough now. And yes my weight was on my hands. They were on the floor and I was pretty much standing on my hands while he held my legs open…”

"And it didn't look comfortable," Caroline smirked.

"It felt so good I really didn't care," Elena shivered, biting her lip. "It's not a beginner move, but oh wow,” she giggled, "did he get deep."

"That's the one thing I didn't see," Caroline poured a drink. “Let's talk size. Is it true what they say about tall guys?"

"6’l" isn't tall,” Elena frowned.

"It's on the higher end of average,” Sage supplied.

"And," Caroline and Hayley prompted.

Elena grinned, leaning in close and whispering. “The higher, higher end of average.” She sat back. "I spilled, now it's your turn."

"Are we gonna compare and contrast?” Hayley bit into a lime. “Put it to a vote?"

"There is no point ladies," Elena smirked, "because I will win. He's the best in bed, and he knows like every position imaginable. I swear once a month we are trying something new, like when Caroline walked in."

"Finn's traditional – you probably wouldn't find him very exciting," Sage hummed. “Sometimes I can talk him into something new, but it's always explosive."

"You want some suggestions? I can start you off easy," Elena giggled with Sage.

"I don't think Finn would go for the uh..."

"St. Valentine's Day," she supplied.

"Seriously?"

"Unless Kol was pulling my leg,” her eyes twinkled.

"From where I was standing it looked like he was pulling both."

"All about the leverage,” Elena raised her glass in salute. There was a round of laughter before she turned to Hayley.

"What about Elijah? Is he boring? Does he strike anyone else as boring?"

There was a chorus of ‘yes’.

"I don't know,” she pursed her lips, "Elijah might surprise you."

"I don't think I'm capable of being surprised anymore,” Elena rested her cheek on her palm. Nobody mentioned it, but they all knew she had aimed for her chin.

"Hayley is the only one of us that can compare and contrast between brothers," Sage crossed her arms on the table.

Hayley tipped her shot glass back and forth ignoring the expectant looks from her sisters as she formulated the words.

"Well," she hummed, “with Klaus I went in with certain expectations, I expected the sex was going to be wild and a little rough; he met all of them, and he's got a definite alpha male thing going on. Elijah, on the other hand...” Hayley's eyes sparkled as she leaned in close. "With the amount of experience they're all gonna be good, but you expect quiet and boring with him."

“Are you telling us he's not?"

++++

"Are my ears bleeding?” Eve pointed. "I think they're bleeding."

"They look fine to me," Landon stirred his milkshake with a straw.

Hope sipped her smoothie, squinting at the dangling flakes of snow – her Christmas present.

"All I see are two perfectly spelled snowflake earrings," she tilted her head. “What’s going on Evie?"

Eve hesitated before jerking her chin. "Our moms are here, and they're talking"

"About what?"

"Something Aunt Caroline said was uncomfortable," Erik dropped into the empty space by Eve.

"They're talking graphically about sex," she watched her baby brother turn green. "I shouldn't have to listen to the visual details of how my parents go at it." She closed her eyes and shuddered. "And I really didn't need to know that Hope was conceived on the dining room table."

Landon choked and Hope spewed. Strawberry smoothie sprayed the table.

"Eww," she shuddered. "Why would you tell me that? I didn't wanna know that!"

"You think I did?" She pressed her hands to her chest. Her eyes snapped to the left. "What are you doing here, Erik? Don't you have friends to hang out with?"

"They're not back from winter break yet," he stole her untouched smoothie, "and everyone went out."

"Awe," she patted the top of his head, "is the poor ickle baby scared to be home alone?"

"Cut it out,” he trembled.

Eve froze, the smirk on her face melting away to be replaced with a concerned frown.

"What's wrong?"

"Can’t you feel it?” His eyes flickered between them.

"We weren't born with your sixth sense,” Hope glanced at Landon, reaching for his hand under the table. "What do you feel?"

Erik jiggled his foot, a nervous habit he had picked up from his mother, and looked around.

Everything seemed normal. There was nothing out of the ordinary, and yet his heart pumped cold blood and his hair stood up on his neck.

"Something is coming," he chewed his bottom lip. “Something bad."

Eve couldn't resist the quip, partly because she wanted to be right.

"Is it puberty?”

++++

"Your turn," Elena grinned, once they had their laughter under control.

Caroline's eyes bulged. "You already heard about Klaus."

"From someone whose frame of reference is a one night stand from over eighteen years ago; you've seen much better than Hayley."

"Yeah," Hayley slurred, "spill it Care bear! You've got way more sushi... jus hi... suicy details than me."

"You're hampered,” Elena giggled. "Completely shloshed... so-loshed..." she frowned, but didn't stop shaking, "hampered?"

"I believe the words you seek are ‘hammered' and 'sloshed’,” a smooth voice spoke over their heads.

"That's the one,” Elena declared. She jumped to her feet and promptly stumbled over her heels. Large hands caught her around the waist before she could fall flat on the table.

"Hands off my wife,” Kol gave a pointed look down.

"Then you'd best collect her, brother. If I let go she will fall."

"My legs work just find."

"When they're on the floor,” Caroline muttered.

Sage choked on her drink.

Finn gave her a napkin.

"What was that sweetheart?" Klaus tilted his head.

"Noshing,” Elena giggled. She threw her arms around Kol's neck, nearly hitting Elijah in the face.

"You’re pretty."

"No, no, darling," he chuckled, wrapping her in his arms, "you're pretty. I am devilishly handsome."

"I would have said that she's beautiful and you're conceited," Finn smirked.

"She’s taken," Kol turned his head. Her clumsy fingers ran through his hair. "What exactly have you ladies been up to? Aside from the blatant intoxication of my wife, I mean."

"Nothing,” Caroline denied

Elena lost interest in the conversation and turned her full attention on her husband, namely by moulding herself to his lean body and kissing his neck.

"Elena,” Elijah cleared his throat.

She ran her hand down Kol’s spine.

"This is a new level of intoxica...” Kol broke off with a startled yelp when she pinched his behind.

"Okay...” He grabbed her arms and held them behind her back.

"Kinky,” Caroline's comment sent all four girls into a fit of laughter.

Elena wiggled free and dropped back into her seat.

"What is going on here?" Klaus' eyes narrowed.

"Nothing,” Hayley waved her shot glass around. "We were in the middle of a very serious conversation so you can just go."

"Are you sure you don't want them to weigh in?"

"This has nothing to do with them," Caroline scoffed.

"Technically it has everything to do with them," Sage dried her hands.

"Wonderful," Klaus shook his head, “they're talking about us. Well, what is it this time?"

"Isn't it obvious, Nik?" Kol smirked. He could still hear Caroline's stumbled apology. "They are comparing notes to decide which of us is the superior lover?" He bent to whisper in his wife's ear. “What’s the verdict, my darling?"

Caroline attempted to kick her friend under the table, but couldn't find her own foot.

Elena giggled, oblivious to the way Finn shook his head. Deaf to Elijah's long suffering sigh. And blind to Klaus' reddening face.

"We haven't voted yet. Caroline needs more tequila before we can hear about Klaus and make an informed decision."

Caroline swayed dangerously in her chair and opened her mouth, waving her hand around.

"Unlike you, I don't require further intoxication."

She took a deep breath.

Klaus grabbed her around the waist and ran.

"Spoil sport,” Elena pouted. Her eyes landed on Elijah when he righted the vacated chair. A few drinks earlier and she might have tried to stop the laughter that bent her in two.

"Darling,” Kol glanced at his brother, "what's so funny?"

"Nothing,” she wheezed, "your brother just has an alter ego."

Elijah's eyes darted to Hayley's flushed cheeks.

“Do I want to know what you told them?"

She flushed deeper in response, pressing her mouth into a line.

Elena wiped tears from her eyes.

"So,” Kol cleared his throat, “when will we receive the poll results?"

“When Caroline gets back."

“I'm pretty sure she is facing Niki's wrath for humiliating him in public,” he tugged on Elena's ear.

"Kinky,” she waggled her eyebrows. That set Sage and Hayley off again.

Elena poured herself a shot – unsure if it was her sixth or six hundredth – and stared at the liquid thoughtfully before turning to Sage.

"Do you think Hayley will be facing Elijah's wrath?"

Elijah sputtered as the trio broke out in another fit of giggles, and came to a decision that girl's night was over.

Hayley flashed a grin as she was pulled to her feet.

"And then there were two," Elena sang.

"And I was so hoping for the results,” Kol rolled his eyes. He picked Elena up and set her on her feet.

"Come on, darling. It's time you were in bed."

"Sounds good," she purred.

++++

Eve sank into her booth as dad led mom from Rousseau’s. She yanked her hair forward and covered her bright face so she wouldn't have to look at the world's most embarrassing parents. She doubted she would be able to meet their eyes before Valentine's Day. The second she thought of the holiday she heard her mom's extremely graphic description all over again.

"Someone put me out of my misery,” she groaned.

"Want me to put you to sleep?" Hope sipped her smoothie.

"This is so unfair,” she sat up, leaning over the table. “We had to hear intimate details about mom and dad, but you get off with a tiny tidbit about your conception because Uncle Nik dragged Aunt Caroline out of here like a bloody caveman."

"That reminds me..." Hope flipped over her phone and started typing.

"What are you doing?” Landon's eyes flickered over her face.

"Texting my dad 'thank you', with a heart emoji."

Eve surged up onto her feet. "Look at my poor baby brother; he's traumatized!"

Hope exchanged a look with Landon.

"You alright, Erik?" He tilted his head.

“Am I gonna be as good as that?" He tilted his head, more to annoy his sister than anything.

"Shut up, Rik!"

"Only if he did a good job while conceiving you, you little turnip," Hope gave him a sympathetic look. "He was drunk though, so probably not. You'll be a little turnip forever."

"Hope... Eve?” Finn approached the booth. "Erik? How long have you been here?"

"Too long," Eve groaned.

"Oops." Sage giggled.

++++

She slammed him into the rough brick of the alley; red dusted his jacket. Her long fingers worked the fine powder from his hair.

"Darling," he held her hips, “what has gotten in to you tonight."

Blunt teeth caught his bottom lip and tugged.

"Tequila,” she plunged her tongue into his mouth, sliding it over his. His answering groan rumbled through her chest.

He sank into her kiss, more than happy to be where he was, and drunk enough that he didn't care about her hastily selected venue; he never tired of kissing her. A few drinks more and he would have taken her right there against the bricks and finished the demolition she began.

He wasn't that drunk.

She took heavy breaths, drunk on alcohol, drunk on his proximity. She transferred her kisses to his cheeks, his jaw, and that one spot on his throat.

Her teeth grazed his carotid.

His knees buckled.

"Darling,” he groaned.

She freed his shirt from his jeans, reaching for his belt; it took every ounce of his limited self control to grab her hands.

"It's a full moon."

He felt her pout against his collarbone. Her voice emerged in a whine.

"When's it over?"

"I'm not sure," he chuckled. Her arousal tickled his senses. "Why don't we go home and I'll worship you like the goddess you are."

"And what goddess is that?” She squealed as he lifted her into his arms.

"Aphrodite, of course,” the look he gave her sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

"Does that make you Hephaestus?"

"How can you mess up sloshed, but have no problem with Hephaestus?" He shook his head. “And no, if I am any god I'm Ares."

"But,” an adorable gasp escaped her lips, "they weren't married. If you're Ares then where's my hushband."

"Oh please," he carried her to the end of the alley. "They were wed in all but name."

"I suppose,” she huffed, tossing her head back.

The teasing smile dropped.

"Kol,” he could hear the frown in her voice, “did you bite the moon?"

"Did I what?" He stepped out onto the street.

His breath caught.

Her skin was bathed in red.

He followed her gaze up.

A full moon loomed above them, and as they watched it was overtaken with red. When the very last of white was gone chaos reigned.

Hurricane force winds blew through the streets.

The earth shook.

Lights blew out.

Water bubbled up from the sewers.

People screamed.

Metal screeched.

New Orleans bathed in blood.

It seemed to stop as fast as it began.

Elena watched the red drain from the moon and wrapped her arms around Kol's neck.

"That's not good, is it?"

"No, my love,” he turned his head, meeting her eyes. “It's not."

++++

A lone woman sat calmly amidst the running civilians; her pale eyes trained on the young couple across the street.

“I was hoping for more of a reaction."

“No, no, Stavros,” she smiled, slow and cruel. "Slow terror is perfect." She cocked her head to the side, listening in on a conversation behind them.

"Call the other Harvest witches..." She caught sight of a short woman around thirty with curly black hair. "Tell them to meet me in the cemetery."

She watched the witch go and grinned.

"My brilliant day just got better."

++++

Erik crawled out from under the table and glared at his older sister as she picked some broken glass out of her hair.

"I told you so."

"It was just an earthquake Erik,” she sighed and slung her arm around his shoulders. “Davina and Monique probably had an argument."

"What about the wind?"

"Abigail probably joined the fray,” Hope walked backwards through the door. Water soaked through her shoe. She shook her foot.

"Cassie too?” Erik gave them both a disbelieving look.

Hope exchanged a glance with Eve.

"Obviously.”

@elejah-wonderland @elejahforever @eternityunicorn @morsmornte @fandomrulesall @xanderling @cry-btch @kol-and-elena-fanfiction @geekofmanyfandoms @xxbeckybeexx-blog

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

Worm 2.6 - In which we meet up with the Undersiders

I showed up in costume.  I didn’t care if they thought it was rude or paranoid, I would rather be capable of surviving having a knife pulled on me than play nice.

I said it last update and I’ll say it again: Taylor’s being really smart while making a very dumb decision

I had caught a bus from the library to my house and put my costume on under my clothes.  Most of the armor panels of my costume were separate pieces, held in place by straps that ran into slits in the fabric of the costume.  Not all of them were, though.

I really appreciate how badass and complex her costume is, having made it 100% herself! It’s probably on par with some professional ones!

I’d made some of the armor part of the bodysuit, I’d made narrow, rigid sections of armor running along the center of my chest, back, shins, wrists, hips and the tops of my shoulders. so that when I strapped the larger pieces on, grooves on the underside of the armor would fit over them and help keep them from flopping around.

And now it seems she has improved it, keeping it both practical and protective. I love it.

I checked myself in the mirror before I left, and didn’t think anyone would notice unless I held a strange posture and they were paying a great deal of attention to what I was wearing.  I wore loose fitting clothes over the costume, – one of my larger pairs of jeans and a sweatshirt, and even with that, I felt painfully conspicuous

So she’s wearing casual clothes over her costume, and the costume is working right now as a kind of bulletproof vest while she goes to meet them, where she will presumably change to being fully suited. And going with civilian clothes and then changing out of view is a good way to protect her secret identity.

Taylor’s showcasing the appropriate amount of caution with this crazy plan.

I changed much the way I had the previous night, finding an empty alley, quickly pulling on my mask, pulling off my outer clothes, and stuffing the clothes into one of my dad’s old backpacks.  I’d hidden the backpack before I went patrolling last night, but today, I opted to take it with me.  I headed out the other end of the alley.

Aaand changed! Full costume mode now! The bug girl from the other day is back!

When I was a short distance away from the site of last night’s brawl, I sent a dozen flies out to scout.  I focused on what they were sensing.

I never realized just how excellent bug control would be for scouting ahead and cheking your surroundings.

I get the feeling this serial is going to ruin every other bug-based power in media for me, especially the ones that  use it only for  offense.

Bugs, it probably goes without saying, sense things in a very different way than we do.  More than that, they sense and process things at a very different speed.  The end result was that the signals my power were able to translate and send to me in a way my brain could understand were muted.  Visual information came through as ink blot patches of monochrome light and dark, alternating between fuzzy and overly sharp. Sound was almost painful to focus on, breaking down to bass vibrations that made my vision distort and high pitch noises that weren’t unlike nails on a chalkboard.  Multiply that by a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand, and it was overwhelming.  When my power was new to me, I hadn’t been able to hold back. The sensory overload had never actually hurt me, even at its worst, but it had made me flat out miserable.   These days, I had that part of my power turned off a good ninety nine percent of the time.

This is actually really interesting! It seems her power let’s her see and hear through her bugs but doesn’t actually translate it to human terms

As such all she can see through one bug’s eyes are monochrome light and dark patches and all she can hear is distorted noises. And all of that multiplied by every single bug she has which amounts to a kaleidoscopic maelstrom of disruptive imputs that incoveniences more than helps.

It’s fortunate that she can turn that part of her power off, cause it could almost be crippling otherwise!

My preferred method of sensing things through my bugs was touch.  It wasn’t that their sense of touch translated much better than the hearing or sight part of things, but had more to do with the fact that I could tell where they were in relation to me.  I was acutely aware when they were very still, if they were moving, or if something else was moving them.  That was one thing that translated well.

Touch does work well though! So she can basically know where everything surrounding her is, based on where the insects she sent landed on; and she could also theoretically track the movements of people and their positions in relation to her. Not bad!

If she could interpret the other imputs she could have big brother-like control of all of her surroundings! I think this aspect of her power is far stronger than the pure offensive capability her swarm gives her.

So as I sent the bugs out to scout, the twelve sets of compound eyes first identified the trio as blurry silhouettes atop a larger, more defined shadow, backlit by a flare of white that had to be the sun.  I directed the flies closer, towards the ‘heads’ of the figures, and they touched down on skin. None of the three were wearing masks, which I deemed reason to believe Tattletale had been telling the truth.   They weren’t in costume.  There was no guarantee that the three were really Tattletale, Grue and Regent, but I felt confident enough to head around to the fire escape and climb up to the roof.

Huh so they did show up without their costume after all! That at least shows they are somewhat honest, even if it could still be a ploy. Seems like Taylor is going up to meet them!

It was them, no doubt.  I recognized them even without their costumes. Two guys and a girl.  The girl had dirty blonde hair tied back into a loose braid, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose and the same vulpine grin I recognized from the night prior.  She wore a black long sleeved t-shirt with a grafitti-style design on it and a knee length denim skirt.  I was surprised by the bottle-glass green of her eyes.

So this is Tattletale then! Without her costume! She sounds very cute! I love that her vulpine grin is again the most defining characteristic. She changes her hairstyle in her civilian identity huh? That’s such a small detail but a realistic one, cause she is probably the one that has to hide her identity the most! The other ones all had full masks and other things to hide their identity, while she had a domino mask.

The smaller and younger of the two guys – about my age – was undoubtedly Regent.  I recognized the mop of black curls.  He was a good looking guy, but not in a way that would make me say he was handsome.  He was pretty, with a triangular face, light blue eyes and full lips pulled into a bit of a scowl.  I pegged him as having French or Italian heritage.  I could see where he would have girls all over him, but I couldn’t say I was interested, myself.  The pretty boys – Leonardo Decaprio, Marcus Firth, Justin Beiber, Johnny Depp – had never done it for me.  He was wearing a white jacket with a hood, jeans and sneakers, and was perched on the raised lip at the edge of the roof, a bottle of cola in hand.

Regent is european! Has a pretty face and a lean body, which seems like it’s not Taylor’s type, but she could understand how other people might fall for him. He’s currently chilling with a cola bottle on the roof which is a mood.

Interesting to see both Tattletale and Regent in such a casual way, after learning they were extremely misterious online.

Grue was startling in appearance, by contrast.  Taller than me by at least a foot, Grue had dark chocolate skin, shoulder length cornrows and that masculine lantern jaw you typically associated with guy superheroes.  He wore jeans, boots and a plain green t-shirt, which struck me as a bit cold for the spring.  I did note that he had considerable muscle definition in his arms.  This was a guy who worked out.

Grue is jacked up! Has a full-on superhero physique and jawline, even though he is a villain. He’s also black and rocking some badass cornrows!

He seemed the most straight-foward and direct of all of them last time, and was the one who approached Taylor.

“And she arrives,” Tattletale crowed, “Pay up.”

Regent’s scowl deepened for a second, and he fished in his pocket for a wad of bills, which he forked over to Tattletale.

“You bet on whether I would show up?” I ventured.

“We bet on whether you would come in costume,” Tattletale told me.  Then, more to Regent than to me, she said, “and I won.”

“Again,” Regent muttered.

Oh they are really fun

Seems like these two are the more playful ones of the group, and Tattle still seems really sharp with her guesses!

“It’s your own fault for taking the bet in the first place,” Grue said, “Even if it wasn’t Tattle, it was a sucker bet.  Showing up in costume makes too much sense.  It’s what I would do.”  He had a nice voice.  It was an adult voice, even if his appearance gave me the sense of a guy in his late teens.

And Grue seems to be the most careful and professional out of all of them.

Also this further supports my theory of Tattletale having some crazy mind power.

He extended his hand to me, “Hey, I’m Brian.”

I shook his hand, he wasn’t shy about shaking my hand firmly.  I said, “You can call me Bug, I guess.  At least, until I come up with something better, or until I decide this isn’t an elaborate trick.”

He shrugged, “Cool.”  There wasn’t the slightest trace of offense at my suspicion.  I almost felt bad.

I like Brian. I think he likes that Taylor is also being very careful. Also, are you really going to call yourself “Bug”?

“Lisa,” Tattletale introduced herself.  She didn’t offer me her hand to shake, but I think it would have felt out of place if she had.  It wasn’t that she seemed unfriendly, but she didn’t have the same aura of geniality about her that Grue did.

Lisa is a good name. Also yeah Brian seems effortlessly friendly.

With how nice they are being, it’s easy to forget these guys are teenage villains

“I’m Alec,” Regent informed me, with a quiet voice, then he added, “And Bitch is Rachel.”

“Rachel is sitting this one out,” Grue said, “She didn’t agree with the aim of our meeting, here.”

Alec huh? He’s still being quite reserved. Also seems like Rachel didn’t really care about meeting new possible members or was even against it.

Seems she really is antisocial, as her page said.

“Which raises the question,” I cut in, “What is the aim of this meeting?  I’m a little weirded out with you guys revealing your secret identities like this, or at least, pretending to.”

“Sorry,” Grue… Brian apologized, “That was my idea.  I thought we would make a token show of trust.”

Behind the yellow tinted lenses of my mask, my eyes narrowed, flicking from Lisa to Alec to Brian.  I couldn’t draw any conclusions from their expressions.

Huh, I initially thought this was a strategic maneuver but now I’m thinking that this was actually genuine.

“Why, exactly, do you need my trust?” I asked.

Brian opened his mouth, then closed it.  He looked to Lisa, who bent down and picked up a plastic lunchbox.  She held it out to me.

“I said we owed you.  All yours, no strings attached.”

Oh, are they repaying her for the accidental favor she did to them the other day??

Without taking the box, I tilted my head to get a better look at the front, “Alexandria.  She was my favorite member of the Protectorate when I was a kid.  Is the lunchbox collectable?”

Oooh new name!! She’s a member of the protectorate, like Armsmaster was! She seems to be a long-time member given that Taylor was a big fan when she was a kid.

Alexandria...makes me think of Alexander the Great or the Alexandrine syllabic meter, or even the library of Alexandria, which all give feelings of past glories and idealized might. It just sounds grand.

“Open it,” Lisa prompted me, with a roll of her eyes.

I took it.  From the weight and the motion of the contents inside it, I immediately had a pretty good idea of what it was.  I undid the clasps and opened the box.

“Money,” I breathed, caught off guard by suddenly having so much in my hands.  Eight stacks of bills, tied with paper bands.  Each of the paper bands had a number written on it in permanent marker.  Two fifty each…

Lisa answered before I had the number totaled up in my head, “Two grand.”

I closed the box and did the clasps.  With no idea what to say, I stayed silent.

Woah that is a lot!

They seem to indeed be succesful if they can throw around these kinds of gifts!

“You have two choices,” Lisa explained, “You can take that as a gift.  A thank you for, intentionally or not, saving our ass from Lung last night.  And maybe a bit of incentive to count us among your friends when you’re out in costume and doing dastardly deeds.”

Her grin widened, as if she’d said something she found amusing. Maybe it was the irony of a villain talking about ‘dastardly deeds’, or how corny the phrase was

Oh fuck Lisa 150% knows about Taylor’s heroic intentions, at least on that night. With how much fun she had at the suggestion of Taylor doing “dastardly deeds”.

Whether she knows about this whole new plan of hers is another story. but this is indeed alarming.

She elaborated, “Between territory disputes, differences in ideology, general power struggles and egos, there’s a rare few people in the local villain community who won’t attack us on sight.”

“And the second option?” I asked.

“You can take this as your first installment in the monthly allowance you’re entitled to as a member of the Undersiders,” Brian spoke up, “As one of us.”

Undersiders huh? Interesting name, very teen group. I imagine it in an urban tag style. I like it.

So her options are to either take the money and leave (and be on friendlier tems if they meet again) or join their group

Something tells me Taylor’s gonna pick number two here, with that whole plan she had. Ooooh boy.

I shifted my gaze between the three of them, looking for the joke.  Lisa still had a bit of a smile, but I was getting the impression that was her default expression.  Alec looked a little bored, if anything.  Brian looked dead serious.  Damn.

That seems very in character with how little we know of them. Lisa the playful, Brian the earnest, and Alec the laid-back.

“Two thousand a month,” I said.

“No,” Brian cut in, “That’s just what the boss pays us, to stick together and to stay active.  We make, uh, considerably more than that.”

o.o Holy shit.

Also they do have a boss!!

Lisa smirked, and Alec chuckled as he swished the contents of his coke bottle.  I made mental note at the mention of this ‘boss’.

Lisaa what are you thinking about!!

Also good on Taylor for catching that.

Not wanting to get sidetracked, I quickly thought through the earlier part of our conversation in the context of the job offer.

I asked, “So Bitch didn’t come because she was against the, er, recruitment?”

“Yeah,” Alec said, “We voted on it, and she said no.”

Yikes, if she joins, Rachel miight be a problem.

“On the plus side, the rest of us voted yes,” Brian hurried to add, giving Alec a dirty look, “She’ll come around.  She always votes against adding new members to the group, because she doesn’t want to divide the money five ways.”

“So you’ve done this recruiting thing before,” I concluded.

“Uh, yeah,” Brian looked a touch embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck, “It didn’t go well.  We tried with Spitfire, and she got scared off before we even got to the job offer.  Our fault, for bringing Rachel along that time.”

“And then she got recruited by someone else,” Alec added.

Seems like Brian really wants to recruit more people to their team and they have been trying without much success before.

Spitfire seems like an obvious fire-based power with that name. Seems like Rachel was toxic enough to make her reconsider and join another team.

uuuh considering your history at school are you sure you want to do this??

“Yeah,” Brian shrugged, “She got snagged by Faultline before we got a second chance.  We’ve made an offer to Circus, too, and she told us in no uncertain terms that she worked alone.”

“Taught me a few new curse words while she did it, too,” Alec said.

“She was pretty vocal about how she flies solo,” Brian admitted.

More people!

We got Circus, who has a potty mouth and likes to operate solo, and Faultline, who also recruits!

Umm, Circus makes me think illusion-based powers? Or like body contortion? Maybe?

Faultline could be earth-based, earthquake related and such

“So you’re going the extra mile, with no costumes as a show of trust and a cash bonus up front, to get me to join,” I said, as the pieces came together.

“That’s the gist of it,” Brian agreed, “Long and short of it is, especially with Lung taken out of action and the ABB diminished by his being gone, there’s bound to be some pushing and shoving over territory and status among the various gangs and teams.  Us, Faultline’s Crew, the remaining ABB, Empire Eighty-Eight, the solo villains, and any out of town teams or gangs that figure that they can worm in and grab a piece of the Bay.  If it comes down to it, we want firepower.  We haven’t screwed up a job yet, but the way us three figure it, it’s only a matter of time before we end up stuck in a fight we can’t win, with Bitch as the only one of us who can really dish out the hurt.”

WORLDBUILDING TIME

It seems that Lung’s defeat caused a power vacuum, and now there are a lot of villain groups trying to fill it.

-Faultline’s Crew, presumably led by the aforementioned Faultline

-The rest of the ABB (Bakuda and Oni Lee I believe? )

-Empire Eighty-Eight, which I have no idea what it is about, but it has Empire on the title so that doesn’t sound good.

-Random Villains

-The Undersiders (with their “boss” leading them? )

It sounds like the events of the other day caused a big mess!!

“I just don’t get why you want me,” I said, “I control bugs.  That’s not going to stop Alexandria, Glory Girl or Aegis.”

More names!!

Alexandria, which makes me even more certain that she’s really really powerful

Glory Girl, which sounds like she’s revered and mighty

Aegis, which probably has some sort of super-defense, based on that name

And yeah Taylor probably wouldn’t do much against a high-ranking hero, to be honest, discounting the fact that she doesn’t want to go that road

“You fucked up Lung,” Lisa shrugged as she spoke, “Good enough for me.”

“Um, not really,” I replied, “In case you missed it, you’re the ones who stopped him from executing me last night.  That just goes to prove the point I was making.”

“Honey,” Lisa said, “Entire teams of capes have gone up against Lung and got their asses handed to them.  That you managed as well as you did is fantastic.  The fact that the asshole is lying in a hospital bed because of you is the icing on the cake.”

Oh what??

I thought she only distracted and weaked his group! He’s in the hospital because of her? Because of the poison?

My reply stopped before it even left my mouth.  I only managed a dumb, “Hunh?”

“Yeah,” Lisa raised an eyebrow, “You do know which bugs you had biting him, right?  Black Widow, Brown Recluse, Browntail Moth, Mildei, Fire Ants-”

“Yeah,” I cut her off, “I don’t know the official names, but I know exactly what bit him, what stung him and what the venoms do.”

“So why are you surprised?  A couple of those bugs would be fucking dangerous if they bit just once, but you had them bite several times.   Bad enough, but when Lung came into custody they had him checked over by the docs, and the idiot doctor in charge said something like, ‘Oh, well, these do look like bug bites and stings, but the really venomous ones don’t bite multiple times.  Let’s arrange to check on him in a few hours’.”

OH GOD

Tayor did you almost poison him to death accidentaly??

This was a regenerative dragon of hell and you almost KILLED HIM!! With bugs

Your power is a lot more fearsome than I thought

I could tell where the story was going.  I put my hands over my mouth, whispering, “Oh my god.”

Tattletale grinned, “I can’t believe you didn’t know.”

“But he regenerates!” I protested, dropping my hands, “Toxins aren’t supposed to be even one percent as effective against people who heal like he does.”

Oh my fuck did you go absolutely ham on him because he “could regenerate”?

This is lowkey hilarious. You almost stomped Lung accidentaly! Granted you almost died later buuut..

“They’re effective enough, I guess, or his healing stopped working somewhere along the line” Lisa told me, “By the time they got to him, the big guy was just beginning to suffer from large scale tissue necrosis.  His heart even stopped a few times.  You do remember where you had the bugs bite him?”

I closed my eyes.  I could see my reputation going down the tubes.   One of the spiders I had been using was the brown recluse.  Arguably the most dangerous spider in the United States, more than even the black widow.  A single bite from a brown recluse could make a good chunk of the flesh around the bite blacken and rot away.  I’d had my bugs biting Lung in the more sensitive parts of his anatomy.

“Let’s just say that even with the ability to heal several times faster than your average person, Lung is going to be sitting down to use the toilet.”

Okay first off:

BROWN RECLUSES ARE A BIG FUCKING NOPE. Thank god I don’t have any over here

Second:

DID YOU JUST ROT HIS DICK OFF??

“Okay, that’s enough,” Brian stopped Lisa before she could go on, “Lung is going to recover, right?”

With the look Brian was giving Lisa, I thought she might lie, regardless of the truth.  She shrugged and told me, “He’s already recuperating.  Slowly, but he’s on the mend, and he should be in good working order in six months to a year.”

“You’d better hope he doesn’t escape,” Alec said, his voice still quiet but bemused, “Because if someone made my man bits fall off, I’d be out for blood.”

Oh god he’s gonna be so pissed.

If he ever escapes you would have a giant scaly dragon wanting nothing more than to turn you into ashes.

Good results for your first night out!

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose, “Thank you for that, Alec.  Way you two are going, our potential recruit is going to run off to have a panic attack before the idea of becoming an Undersider even crosses her mind.”

“How do you know this?” I asked, within a heartbeat of the thought crossing my mind.  When Brian turned my way with an expression like he thought he had said something to offend me, I clarified, “Tattletale, or Lisa, or whatever I’m supposed to call you.  How do you know this stuff about Lung… or about the fact that I was at the Library, or that the cape was on his way, last night?”

Yess, tell us about your precognitive or psychic abilities Lisa!

“Library?” Brian interjected, giving Lisa another dark look.

Lisa ignored Brian’s question and winked at me, “Girl’s gotta have her secrets.”

“Lisa’s half the reason we haven’t failed a job yet,” Alec said.

“And our boss is a large part of the rest,” Lisa finished for him.

Huh! so the boss is also a factor for success.

Interesting

“So you say,” Brian grumbled, “But let’s not go there.”

Lisa smiled at me, “If you want the full scoop, I’m afraid the details on what we do only come with team membership.  What I can tell you is that we’re a good group.  Our track record is top notch, and we’re in it for fun and profit.  No grand agenda.  No real responsibility.”

Huh so they are keeping the full details for when she’s an active member of the group. That’s smart of them.

Also are they really just a group trying to make money out of petty theft and heists. No hidden agenda? Not even of the boss? Hmmm...

I pursed my lips, behind my mask.  While I had picked up some info, I felt like I had a lot more questions.  Who was this boss they mentioned?  Was he or she setting up other teams of highly successful villains, in Brockton Bay or elsewhere?  What made these guys as effective as they were, and was it something I could steal or copy for myself?

The theory that their boss is playing sponsor to a series of low-level criminal groups could be true actually! I got a feeling that there’s something to this boss beyond what these guys said.

Also you’re already looking how to minmax their way of working into something that can work for you? You’re very good at finding uses for everything.

It wasn’t like I was signing the deal in blood or anything.  I stood to gain so much.

“Alright then, count me in,” I told them.

Oh god Wildbow was there a way to make that first phrase any more ominous?

Taylor what have you done?

[aalissy]

Masked Ball

Chapter 11 omg are we really this far into May?! We’ve got another one of my favorite chapters coming up for today haha. Hopefully you guys like it :). It includes a reveal that I hope I did justice as it’s my first time writing a reveal. A big thank you to my bffl Olivia for giving me ideas galor for this chapter haha.

AO3

Marinette carefully examined the dress that was situated atop her mannequin. Puffing out her cheeks she fluffed the light pink ruffles, making certain that everything flowed smoothly and that the butterfly she had painstakingly sewed on last night stayed upright. Smiling proudly she leaned back, brushing a stray strand of hair back into her ponytail annoyedly.

“Wow Marinette, this dress is gorgeous,” Tikki flitted around the ballgown, taking in all of the intricate details.

“Thanks so much, Tikki!” Marinette practically beamed with pride, “I’m wearing it to the masquerade later tonight.”

“It’d be hard for Adrien not to notice you in that dress,” the kwami teased.

“Can you imagine what it’d be like to share another dance with him,” the fashion designer sighed dreamily, collapsing into her chair.

“With you in that dress, I’m sure he’ll be falling all over himself to ask you to dance,” Tikki giggled.

“You really think so Tikki?” Marinette’s eyes sparkled with joy.

“I know so,” she winked, “Now why don’t you try it on?”

“I can’t,” the designer laughed, “I don’t wanna end up ruining it before the dance.”

“Oh but I want to see how beautiful you look in it,” Tikki pouted.

“You can see how I look in it in a few hours, alright?” Marinette chuckled, “But for now I have to get at least some of my homework done.”

“Alright... but be certain to wake me up before you go,” the kwami zipped into the girl’s open purse, curling up to take a quick nap.

Marinette watched the kwami disappear with a soft smile before groaning as she turned to her desktop and began working on her history assignment. Occasionally getting off task and staring dreamily at photos of Adrien, she was interrupted from her fantasies by the buzz of her cellphone.

Alya: Guuuurlll are you ready for tonight?!?! I cannot wait to see what your dress looks like!!

Marinette: I can’t wait to see yours either!! Omgggg I wanna see Adrien sooo badly 😍😍

Alya: Welllll you’ll be glad to know he’s coming then 😏so you’d better start getting ready now cause we know how late you can beeee 😉

Alya: I’ll be there in like an hour so you’d better be ready by then...

Her cheeks tinged a faint pink, Marinette grabbed her dress and raced downstairs to change. Taking her hair out of its usual pigtails, she brushed them into elegant curls and began struggling into her dress. Once she was effectively in the giant gown, she quickly curled her lashes and donned a light pink lipstick that matched her dress. Twirling back and forth in front of the small mirror she smiled happily at her reflection. If Adrien doesn’t fall for me tonight I’d be surprised, she thought to herself delightfully.

Upon exiting the bathroom she heard a surprised gasp from her mother, “Oh Marinette, you look so beautiful!”

“Thanks,” Marinette blushed, beaming happily, “Oh before I forget to tell you, Alya should be coming soon to walk with me to the party.”

“Alright dear. Now hurry along and get your mask so I can take a picture of the completed look.”

“Love you,” she kissed her mom’s cheek before rushing her way back up the stairs. Grabbing the pink lace mask that complemented her dress, she carefully tied the contraption around her eyes. “I almost feel like Ladybug,” she giggled quietly, before waking the slumbering kwami, “Tikki it’s almost time for me to go.”

The small bug popped her head up from Marinette’s purse, rubbing one big blue eye, yawning slightly, “Aww Marinette you look so pretty.”

“Thank you Tikki,” she kissed her forehead, “Sorry for waking you.”

“It’s alright. I’m just glad I got to see your finished look,” Tikki yawned once again before disappearing back inside Marinette’s purse.

Smiling tenderly at the adorable creature, she silently zipped up her purse before slipping her feet into some small pink heels. Tying a pearl necklace around her neck from her jewelry box she made her way back down to where her mother and father were awaiting her.

“You look so old,” her father cried out, before wrapping her up in a big hug.

“Papa! Stop,” she laughed, “You’re going to ruin my dress!”

“Sorry, sorry I just couldn’t help myself. You look beautiful,” he smiled tearfully at her.

She grinned softly at her parents as her mom took picture after picture before a loud knock was heard at the door. “That’ll be Alya,” she scrambled away from the blinding flashes and headed towards the door, “Goodbye!” she waved happily.

“Have fun and make good choices!” her mom shouted back at her.

Opening the door, Marinette saw a beaming Alya dressed in an orange dress adorned with a red fox mask. Not subtle at all, she giggled in her head as she stared at the girl.

“Wow! You look just like Rena Rouge,” she smirked at the girl as she stepped out into the hallway.

“Who, me? Look as cool as that superhero? Nah, no way,” Alya waved her comments off, “Let’s talk about your dress instead because girl it is beautiful! Did you make it yourself?”

“I did indeed,” she glanced down shyly at her own dress as the two girls made their way downstairs and outside.

“You’re honestly so talented! You gotta make my wedding dress for me when I get married.”

“Oh I thought that was already a given,” Marinette laughed, bumping her shoulder with Alya’s.

“Are you excited to see Adrien,” Alya teased as they both entered the school, following the pumping music down to the gymnasium.

“Of course! I wonder what he’s going to wear. Will I even be able to spot him with his mask on?” she gushed as the two entered the loud room.

“Girl I’m pretty certain you could spot Adrien from miles away,” Alya shouted over the thrum of the bass, “Now I’m going to see if I can find Nino. Apparently he’s DJing tonight!”

“Ok! I’ll meet up with you two after I get some punch!” Marinette shouted back as the two both went their separate ways. Making her way through the rows of dancing teens the fashion designer finally arrived at the bowl. Grateful for some small relief from the loud music she began pouring herself a drink. Suddenly Marinette felt a familiar, warm presence appear behind her. Smirking to herself she realized within seconds who the figure was, “What are you doing at a masquerade, kitty?”

The person behind her didn’t respond for a while and Marinette frowned in confusion. Did she get it wrong? Was this not in fact Chat Noir? Nibbling on her lip nervously, she was just about to turn around and apologize when the boy leaned in, whispering directly into her ear, “Can’t a cat come and visit his favorite purrincess?”

Smirking she turned around, punch in hand, to stare at the blonde with bright green eyes that were partially hidden by a black mask decorated with silver detailing. No, she had definitely not gotten it wrong. Only Chat would call her princess and show up with a costume so similar to his own. Glancing down at his black suit adorned with a red and black spotted tie she laughed, “Not exactly being subtle now, are you?” she raised a delicate eyebrow at him.

“No one’s recognized me yet,” he chuckled at her.

“I did,” Marinette smirked at the black cat.

“Yes but you’re the only exception,” he winked at her before extending a hand out to her as the music suddenly became softer and slower, “Would you care to dance?”

“Well I promised Alya I would meet up with her as soon as I got punch and...” she wiggled the drink in her hand as a silent continuation of her sentence.

“I don’t think she’s going to mind very much,” Chat motioned his head over to the girl who was currently wrapped up in Nino’s arms.

Marinette laughed, “I suppose you’re right,” she put her cup back on the table before taking his hand, smiling softly up at him, “So yes I would care to dance.”

“Purrfect,” the cat purred at her as he began leading her around the dance floor. Swaying slowly together Marinette placed her head on Chat’s shoulder as the two began their slow dance. “Have I told you yet how absolutely amazing you look in that dress,” he whispered in her ear, sending shivers up her spine.

“No but it never certainly never hurts to hear a compliment every once in a while,” she looked up at him, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

“Well then you look amazing... absolutely purrfect,” Chat purred down at her, grinning widely.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself,” Marinette laughed, “Seeing as how I’ve only ever seen you in one outfit.”

“And I look pawsome in that one outfit, thank you very much,” the superhero said offendedly.

“Of course you do,” she patted his chest, attempting to soothe his ruffled ego.

“I happen to know you like that outfit,” Chat leaned in, smirking at her.

“Oh yeah?” Marinette smirked back, “How do you figure?”

“I’ve saved you in it more than enough times,” his eyebrows wiggled up.

“You’re insufferable,” Marinette laughed, pushing his chest back.

As he stumbled back from her small shove, he pouted at her, “Are you suggesting you don’t love my everyday suit?”

She rolled her eyes at the superhero, smiling softly at him, “I never suggested anything of the sort,” as he took back her hand to resume their slow dance Marinette added quietly, “You know I do like your suit right?”

“I know.”

The two both closed their eyes, lost in the arms of the other person until the music suddenly shifted back to its previous loudness. Marinette’s eyes popped open as she stepped out of Chat’s arms, who seemed to be staring at her almost longingly. She grinned at the boy as she gestured to her best friend, “Thanks for the dance Chat Noir, though I think I should probably give Alya her punch now.”

“Thank you for allowing me the chance to dance with you,” he bowed elegantly causing her to giggle.

Waving goodbye to the adorable cat, she poured Alya a glass of punch as she made her way up to the front where her best friend was watching Nino. “Brought you some punch,” Marinette shouted over to the girl, handing her the pink liquid.

“Thank you!” Alya threw herself into Marinette’s arms, almost spilling the drink, “I’ve been dying of thirst!”

Marinette laughed, pushing the girl out of her arms, “Gotta keep my best friend hydrated don’t I,” she winked at Alya.

Taking the drink gratefully, the reporter drank the entire cup in three large gulps. Wiping her mouth off she glanced at Marinette teasingly, “So how have you been? I saw you dancing with Adrien... How did that go?”

“I... wha...?” Marinette blinked at Alya confusedly. When had she danced with Adrien?

“Like two seconds ago you and Adrien were slow dancing. I was so proud of you! You didn’t need my help or anything this time!”

“That wasn’t Adrien,” she frowned at Alya.

“Uh... yes it was,” her best friend frowned back at her, “The perfect blonde hair, bright green eyes, suit perfectly tailored to match his figure. Yep definitely Adrien Agreste.”

“I... huh...?” Marinette stuttered again, searching around for the boy who she had thought was Chat Noir.

“Who did you think it was?” Alya questioned, staring at her friend confusedly.

“C-can you hold my drink for a second?” she thrust her cup into Alya’s hand as she spotted the boy getting a snack at the refreshment table. Picking up her gown she rushed to the refreshment table, ignoring Alya’s indignant shouts. Nibbling her lip nervously, she tapped the boy’s shoulder, “A-Adrien?”

He turned around, bright green eyes staring down at her curiously, “Yeah?”

Marinette’s eyes widened in shock as she stared at Adrien. The music faded away as all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. The next second later there was no sound as her heart dropped and she began reconciling the boy in front of her as Chat Noir. The same boy she had turned down on multiple occasions as Ladybug in favor of pursuing him. Or not him? She shook her head in confusion as she stuttered out, “I... you... wha?”

Adrien frowned in confusion before he flinched, “I, um, I think we need to talk.”

Adrien grabbed onto her arm and yanked her out of the gymnasium, leading her to a quiet hallway close by. As he began pacing and muttering to himself, Marinette was unable to hold back her giggles shaking her head, “It’s you. Of course it’s been you.”

“I don’t know what you mean Marinette,” he turned to her, blatantly lying.

A few seconds later and she threw herself into his arms, kissing him firmly on the lips, “I love you too, my silly kitty.”

“I... you... huh... what?” Adrien stuttered, his eyes bulging out, “Marinette, I um, I think you have the wrong idea.”

“Only Chat Noir calls me princess,” Marinette smirked, “So how could you have known that nickname without being him?”

Adrien deflated, “You can’t tell anyone ok? No one knows but you and if Ladybug finds out I’m...”

He was cut off by Marinette’s voice, “Ladybug’s already found out.”

“She has? Why didn’t she ever tell me then?” he frowned, muttering and pacing to himself once again.

Marinette merely slapped a hand to her forehead, “Are you completely forgetting something important that happened just now?”

“Why? What do you mean?” Adrien turned to her, “And how do you know Ladybug knows?” Marinette merely laughed again, burying her face in her hands. “Marinette?” the model placed a hand on her shoulder confusedly.

“We’re both idiots!” her head popped up out of her hands, “We must have been blind!”

“Marinette, are you ok?” Adrien asked her slowly.

“I’m fine! I’m fine,” she waved him off, “But Adrien I just said I love you too. Now have you ever told Marinette you love her?”

“No...” he said in confusion before his eyes widened and he breathed out that same word once again, “No.” Marinette merely nodded, smirking at him playfully before she let out a yelp as she was swooped up into the boy’s arms. Adrien spun her around happily causing her to giggle once again at his enthusiasm. “It’s you! It’s you! I can’t believe it’s you! I’m the luckiest cat in the world!”

“And I’m the luckiest Ladybug,” she managed to say before she was placed on the ground and was suddenly kissing the boy she had loved for so long.

“I love you, Marinette.”

“I love you too, Chat.”

[artboitrash]

His Bloody Rose (Stefano Valentini fanfiction) Chapter 15 - Night Terrors

Warning, this chapter has an implied sexual assault. There is a trigger warning before it happens, so you can read up until that point if it bothers you. There are some more details in the trigger warning. Please take caution when you read this chapter, it's not meant to be taken lightly.

-

The cold breeze of the night air hit my face, freezing the still damp skin where I had cleaned myself. I closed my eye, hesitating for a moment, just allowing myself to breathe and take in the sensation of just existing for a brief moment.

My eye opened as I breathed, looking up into the moon, waning away in the night sky. The stars were barely visible as I looked into the azure night, almost pure black staring back at me.

I pulled out a notepad from my pocket, grabbing the small handheld pencil. I flipped it open to a new, blank page and wrote a note to myself for my next work I was now inspired to create. A moment's reprieve, just for myself, sketching as hastily as I could the image in my mind in hopes I could make it come to life shortly.

I felt relaxed and content. My mind turning back to my muse, waiting for me in the second floor bathroom. I chuckled quietly to myself, turning my back to the arts building and beginning to walk away.

I mumbled something to myself as I turned towards the front of the building, the only way to the parking lot where my car's parked. I knew of a small scarf in my glove box, but couldn't quiet recall if it was blue, black, or another color. I would hope it would look well with the dark blue dress she wore. I couldn't do anything for the makeup I had ruined.

As much as I was for physical appearances, I couldn't help but find myself excited while studying her. Her defense of my work and standing against my critic completely made me mad for her attention.

The physical pleasure of her continued to linger in the back of my head, including the nonsense I began speaking to her during our actions. I sighed as I ran my gloved hand through my hair.

"What am I doing. . . ?" I muttered.

Whether I was wasting my time with this woman and idealizing her, or I was setting myself on the line to be caught for my work. Neither is a good use of our time. She keeps telling me she loves me, and while she tries to openly communicate with me about it because I cannot return what she feels, I can't help but admit this form of attention is a welcome change to my usual life's story.

And yet, despite my continued assurance to myself that this relationship was a waste of time, I couldn't make myself break away from her. If I was nervous about her going to law enforcement, I wouldn't even dare to take chances and let her have the chance. If I thought she was going to use me or attempt to hurt me, I don't believe I would be so gullible. I had a continued desire to turn her into a work of art.

Then what is it? Why am I keeping her here?

I looked up to the lights illuminating the ground beneath my feet as I walked towards the parking lot. My shoe hit a small piece of concrete, skittering it across the walkway. I could make my way just fine through the arts building, and likely the campus if I chose.

I thought back to a piece of mail I had received the other day. An invitation from someone I had been speaking with arrived, saying I was to be recruited as some sort of disciple.

I wasn't so much the religious type. I had been raised catholic at first, but chose to leave the church a long time ago. I had probably left in my teens, maybe ten years old to focus on my passion for art. I had been contacting Mr. Wallace personally to deal with being alone in the world; my family being gone when I returned from war, Emily leaving me shortly after, and seemingly being rejected by everyone around me. I had hoped for assistance with my post-traumatic symptoms, still living with it years after I came back.

I hummed to myself, organizing my thoughts some more. I closed my eyes to focus on my thought process. Perhaps I shall simply approach that supposed "cleansing ceremony" in order to set the record straight. I didn't wish to join any sort of congregation, I wanted to sort out my messy life.

I walked in front of the arts building, walking past the sound of people talking and some classical music playing. More people were here, observing my gallery. For a split moment, I turned and watched. People were mulling, smiling, standing right in front of the gallery doors and grabbing the food on the tables. I could see their mouths forming "photo" and other various familiar words.

My eye flickered across the crowd, for some reason wishing to see someone familiar. Now that I was remembering things from my youth I felt solitary again. I didn't know anyone, no one to help me. I left my family home and came back to a crowd of strangers. I could never have a satisfying relationship, not that I tried or wanted one, once I began to take more interest in my work.

I saw Carolinn rush out the doors once she had seen me. My eye focused on her briefly, taking me a few moments to recognize her.

"Mr. Valentini!" she said in a flustered tone. "There you are! Are you leaving already? I thought you were still going to speak."

I attempted a smile, unable to reapply my fake personality now that it had completely fallen from me. "Ah, excuse me. I'm afraid my date had a rather severe wardrobe malfunction. I just need to run off to my car in hopes of finding a replacement for her."

"Oh, alright! Make sure you come back shortly, some of our students are excited to hear you speak about your process."

I nodded, trying to smile at her again. "Just excuse me for a moment. I'll come speak when I have finished helping Miss Rose."

"Alright, come find me when you're ready."

I forced a low chuckle as I turned and continued to my car.

Rose. My current muse, my current project.

I blinked to myself. Then I laughed, feeling a sense of melancholy take over me. I suppose I always knew it would never work out. I am not the type suited for relationships, and even if I was, there was no way for me to secure a healthy one as I am too entranced in myself.

I clicked open the lock on the car's trunk, and opened it carefully. I pulled out the dark blue dress, a slight shine indicating it's false satin appearance. I slid my leather gloves over the skirt, feeling it slip under my grasp. I felt a small smile slip across my face.

But I wasn't happy.

Perhaps after tonight, we shall go our separate ways.

I shut the trunk with the dress in my arms. I walked around to the passenger side, clicking the button on my keys and opening it. I unlocked the glove box and pulled it open. Some documents slid and settled in their place, and small piles of fabrics shifted on top of them. I pulled out a dark blue color and compared it to the dress in the low lighting of the car.

It would have to do. I shut the glove box and stood up out of the car. I locked my car, listening to the locks and the trunk click loudly. I walked back towards the building, going around the side of the arts building to avoid drawing attention to myself or to Rose when she came back to the gathering.

I opened the door to the building once I had found my way back around the side. I found my way into the stairway, luckily this dress not as long as the green one I had destroyed, so I wasn't climbing the stairs with difficulty. It was, however, very dark in the stairwell, not being motion-sensor or lit at all.

I reached the top step of the stairway, making my way into the second floor hallway. It was almost pure darkness still, but at least there was some more light that could guide my way. I walked through the hallway, moving towards the bathroom, hoping she was how I had left her and she hadn't gotten spooked and ran. But I had grown to know Rose enough to know she would wait and do as she was told.

- Trigger Warning!!  The next scene discusses rape, while it doesn't include the action itself, attempted rape is implied. Please know you have been warned. You can skip, and please do so, to the next chapter if you know you will be bothered by this -

I suppose I was lucky to have won her affections. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind most of the time, but I could always expect her to listen to me if I asked her to do something.

As I reached the bathroom hallway, I realized I could hear something. My ear picked up slightly on a voice. There was a muffled shriek. I swallowed, wondering what could have possibly happened. In my hesitation, not noticing myself pausing, another sound came from the turn in the hallway that lead to the bathrooms.

I found my feet moving faster as I began to run to the bathroom. It wasn't a shriek of excitement. I had heard and caused too many of terror to know the difference.

"--Quiet--!" I heard a male voice call out as I grasped the door handle to the women's bathroom.

The door flew open in my hands with a bang as it slammed against the wall. I stood in the doorway as I took in the scene.

That blonde man I had seen from earlier was laying on the floor, knees splayed to the side as he kneeled over something. I recognized the emerald green dress I had torn, now laying away from the body of the woman I'd had sex with just a few minutes ago. Bare legs were splayed underneath him, and I could see they were struggling underneath him. The man with the messy blonde hair sat up slightly and looked over at me. There were red marks across his face, both of his own hands pulling away from the body underneath him. His eyes were glazed and oddly he didn't seem to actually see me, not able to focus on what was just a few feet from him.

Rose sat up frantically, a loud gasp emitting from her lips. "Stefano--!" was all she could manage before the man turned to her and shoved her down again.

The look in her eyes were panicked. No. No, they weren't panicked, they were completely terrified. There was a red mark on her neck, and her face was red with tears streaking down her cheeks, leading to her ears and down her chin in two different streaks per eye.

He's trying to kill her. was all that passed my mind

I didn't register the dress in my hands slipping to the floor. My body jerked forward moving to the man who didn't seem to care about me. My hands, now free, grabbed his hair and shirt violently. I shouted something even I couldn't decipher as my fists clenched on what they could grab.

With all my strength I pulled the man away from her, his body feeling heavier than dead weight. I threw him backwards, spinning as I turned to try and get him as far away from her as possible. His body stumbled and hit the tile with a loud smack.

Rose gasped again, the kind that only happens when you haven't had air for too long, the kind that burns your windpipe because it has been completely constricted. I could hear her gasping aloud, trying to force herself to breathe.

"Cara." I said in my agitation. "(My dear, I am here, please don't be afraid.)"

I unbuttoned my jacket, slipping it over her nearly nude form. She held it to herself as I turned back to the man that had attacked her. He was just beginning to get up, staggering, and unbalanced.

"Who... M'th'fuck are you?" he slurred, and I realized I could smell the scent of cheap alcohol permeating the room.

I sneered at him. I stepped to the side, knowing what he was about to try. He began to rush me, hands up in a grabbing motion, and I easily grabbed him and kicked out his feet. The man crashed onto his own face on the ceramic tile. I watched him sit up, dazed and confused. I leaned down, grasping his hair.

"You aren't even worth the time, you drunkard." I allowed an enraged look crossed my face. "However, you have hurt something precious to me."

I slammed his head down against the tiles, hard. A loud crack sounded through the room, and when I pulled his head up again some blood had begun flowing from his temple. I let go of his hair, his head hitting the floor again and causing some blood spatter cross the tiling.

I looked up at Rose, her face flushed from oxygen deprivation, and a large dark red mark developing on her neck. She was still scared, staring at me with widened eyes.

"St-Stefano--" she tried, her voice croaking as her damaged voice box must have hurt her.

"Rose, mia bella." I said quietly, moving towards her. "It is okay, I am here. I am here."

I saw the dark blue dress I had retrieved from her. I moved towards it, and picked it up, brushing it off and turning it over to her.

I slipped my hand into my pants pocket. I unlocked it and opened the phone application. I called Carolinn's personal cell, knowing the campus police would be faster than the police in Krimson.

"Hello, Mr. Valentini?" Carolinn said once she picked up.

"Hello, I'm afraid we've hit a snag this evening." I said before she could continue. "Would you mind calling the campus police, or sending security? We're on the second floor of the art's building, in the women's bathroom."

"What happened?!" she cried out, the stress of the evening having finally accumulated in this moment.

"I'm afraid my date has been assaulted by one of the attendants. He may also be well over the limit for intoxication."

The phone clicked in my hand. As anxious as I was about it, I exited the call, and dialed the dreaded 911. My phone started calling the police, quickly clicking to an operator.

"Hello, Krimson City PD, what's you're emergency?"

I turned to my Rose, helping her finish getting dressed. "Good evening, I'm afraid there's been an attempted assault and attempted murder at the community college. The campus police has been called first, and it's likely you'll get another call soon about the same thing."

"Where is it on campus? And who's calling?"

"It is in the arts building on the campus. I am Stefano Valentini. Please hurry before the assailant tries to attack someone again."

"The police are on their way. Are you in a safe place, away from the assailant."

"Yes, I've knocked him out."

"Alright, well please make your way to a safe place and allow the police to do their job."

"Thank you, good-bye." I slipped the phone off my shoulder and set it on the ground as it clicked when the call ended again.

I hushed Rose as she tried to speak, and refused my jacket as she tried to hand it back to me. Once the dress was secure on her body, I slipped my suit jacket around her shoulders. She pulled it around closer to her body when she realized what I was trying to do.

"Don't move!" I heard shouting behind me.

"Don't tackle me, you'll hurt her." I lifted my hands away from Rose. "The man you're looking for is the one laying on the floor."

I was grabbed roughly and pulled away from Rose anyway. I held my face stoic, and refused to waver from that expression. When the campus police realized I wasn't the attacker, they picked up the still passed out drunk man.

I stayed by Rose's side as they questioned people in the gallery. The Krimson police arrived shortly after the questions began. I held Rose close to me, and she held onto my arm tightly as we were constantly guided around to various officers.

"I'm staying with her." I said when they tried to drag her away. She wasn't speaking as she was still in shock, an iron grip on my arm.

"I'm afraid we'll need to take her to a more private place," said the officer trying to get information from her.

"Then I will go with her." I said sternly. "I'm her boyfriend. I saw the attack, and I'm the one who stopped him before he could kill her."

[starkravinghazelnoots]

Orange or yellow and Peter or Tony for the drabble thing! (rly predictable ik sorry!)

ORANGE

Energy, balance, warmth, enthusiasm, vitality, expansion, flamboyancy, and autumn.

This turned into way longer than a drabble. I couldn't resist the pull of writing some Biderman in honor of Pride. I had a ton of fun writing this, so I hope this lives up your expectations and that all of you enjoy!

I apologize in advance if the line break doesn't work. Tumblr really hates when I try to use line breaks.

xXx

How to be Proud

Peter was pretty confident in himself. What's more, he had an extremely supportive family and group of friends, some of whom understood what he was going through better than others.

But that didn't mean it was always easy to be proud of himself. It wasn't for Peter, at least.

But Spider-Man? He didn't have that problem.

"Don't fucking touch me, homo!"

Peter rolled his eyes behind the mask as he shot a web over the criminal's mouth. "Trust me, buddy, I'm not gonna touch someone as nasty as you." He gestured to the purple, pink, and blue cape tied around his neck. "And for the record, Mr. Homophobe, I'm bisexual. If you're going to insult me, at least get it right."

Peter called the police to report the location of the tied-up criminal before swinging away. His curfew was in ten minutes, which meant he had to hurry if he wanted to make it back to his apartment on time.

He dove through his window right as the clock on his dresser changed to midnight - on Fridays he was allowed that extra hour, but he did have a tendency to push it.

"How was patrol?" May asked. She was leaning against the door frame of his room. She must have just gotten back from her shift at the hospital, because she was still in her scrubs.

"Pretty good!" Peter said, standing up. The Iron Spider mask disappeared from his face. "Stopped a bank robbery and some petty theft. I also rescued Mrs. Post's cat again. He keeps escaping and climbing up the tree next to her house." Peter snickered. "It's still so funny to me that she named her cat Jeff."

May smiled at his amusement. "Well, I'm sure she was very grateful."

He laughed. "Yeah. She always tries to give me cookies or some other kind of sweet before I leave." Peter snapped his fingers, remembering the last thing he did before returning home. "Oh, I also stopped a kid from being beat up. I don't know who he was, because he ran away when I swung down into the alley, but I took care of his attacker." He untied the flag from his neck and hung it over the chair in front of his desk. "He was a nasty guy, too. Homophobic. Smelled like hot garbage."

May chuckled. "Well, it's a good thing you were there to take care of him." She gestured to his bisexual flag. "Get any compliments on that?"

Peter beamed at her. "Yes! It was so great. A girl actually burst into tears when she saw me because she was so happy her favorite superhero was bisexual, too."

May held her arms out, and he eagerly accepted her hug. "I'm so proud of you, Peter."

Peter smiled. "Thank you, May." His voice was muffled by her shirt. "I love you."

May pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Well, I love you more."

"I love you most."

"Then I love you more than the most!"

Peter laughed. "You're the worst."

"Oh, I know."

xXx

MJ slid into the chair in front of Peter, startling him out of a daydream that definitely had not involved the aforementioned girl. "We're still on for Pride tomorrow, right?"

"I am," Ned said excitedly. "I can't wait!"

Peter nodded, taking a sip from the cup of coffee in front of him. He loved this little café. "Yep. It's gonna be so cool to go with both of you." He'd been looking forward to Pride all week. It would be his first time going as openly bi, and he wasn't sure whether he was excited or terrified.

MJ smiled. "Nice. Because I had a little idea that I thought the two of you might be interested in."

Peter glanced at Ned, who shrugged. "Alright," he said, turning back to MJ. "What's your idea?"

She smirked. "There is a third person I propose we bring to Pride. But I wanted your approval before I invited him."

"Sure. Who is it?"

MJ's grin widened. "Spider-Man."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "You want to invite Spider-Man?" It was always weird having to refer to himself in the third person. "Why?"

MJ shrugged. "He's an out and proud bisexual superhero. I think a lot of people, especially the teens at Pride, could use that kind of confidence boost."

Peter felt the blood rush to his cheeks, simultaneously embarrassed and flattered. "Oh. Okay."

"Do you have a specific thing you want Spider-Man to do at Pride?" Ned asked.

"I'm glad you brought that up." MJ pulled her sketchbook seemingly out of nowhere and placed it on Peter's desk. "I drew some concept art for what I think Spider-Man should wear."

Peter looked at her sketch. "Don't you think that's a bit flamboyant for a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?"

MJ shrugged. "So what? Sure, Spider-Man is pretty down-to-earth. But if he was going to be flamboyant, wouldn't Pride be the perfect time for him to do it?"

Confidence surged through Peter's veins. "Yeah. You're right."

MJ rolled her eyes, smirking. "Of course I am."

xXx

Tony stared down in disbelief at the picture in his hands. "Parker, you want me to do what to the Iron Spider suit?"

Peter beamed at him. "Just follow the picture. You're the best Mr. Stark! Okay bye now."

Tony sighed as his intern dashed out of the building. "That kid is going to be the death of me."

xXx

"How's the suit?" MJ asked, popping her gum.

Peter smirked, gesturing to the watch on his wrist. "It's ready whenever. And can I say that it looks cool as hell?"

"Of course it does. I designed it."

"I can't wait," Ned added. "You're gonna look so badass, Peter."

Peter laughed. "Well, I don't know about that."

Pride was in full swing around them. Both Peter and MJ had bisexual flags painted on their cheeks, and Ned had a classic rainbow. Peter also had his bisexual flag tied around his neck, and MJ had an ace flag tied in the same way. Ned had turned down wearing a flag as a cape, instead choosing to wear a long-sleeved black shirt with rainbow patches running down the arms.

Time flew by. The trio marched for over an hour, maybe two, before breaking off to go to a drag queen comedy performance, then went to lunch together.

"So there's a concert in about thirty minutes," MJ said as they were leaving the restaurant. "Want to go to that?"

Peter shrugged. "I'm down with whatever."

"As long as it doesn't last too late in the afternoon," Ned pointed out. "Spider-Man is planned for what - 4ish?"

Peter laughed. "Don't worry, Ned. I'm watching the clock." His heart was racing, and he wasn't sure if that was from nerves or from excitement - either way, he couldn't wait.

The concert itself was decent. Peter thought he might have enjoyed it better had he actually known who the band was. Not to mention he was distracted, glancing at his watch so often he couldn't truthfully say he was paying attention. He a made a mental note to look into more of the band's albums later.

"Hey, Peter," MJ said, smirking at him. "It's 4 o'clock."

Peter rolled his eyes. "You guys are really living for this, aren't you?"

"Duh," Ned said, beaming. "Do it, dude!"

Peter laughed. "Alright, alright." He ducked into an empty alleyway - how fitting that the concert had been so close to one. Apparently the universe was rooting for Spider-Man to show some pride.

After making sure no one was around him, Peter crouched behind a dumpster and tapped at his watch. Within seconds the Iron Spider suit rolled out and covered him. He blinked for a moment to adjust to his sharper vision.

Peter then shot a few webs at the side of the building in front of him, getting a running start before swinging up onto the top of it.

He looked down at the crowd below him. The bright colors of a hundred LGBT+ flags filled him with elation and immense confidence. He'd never be able to replicate that feeling.

Peter shot a web at a pole near the crowd, swinging down and around so that he landed on top of it.

"Hey! New York Pride!" he shouted. His suit magnified his voice. A quick glance at his arm revealed that the suit was doing exactly what it was supposed to do - shift through the colors of as many pride flags as possible. "Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is here to remind you that you should never be ashamed of who you are! You are all amazing, beautiful, inspiring people. If it weren't for you guys, then I'd never have been able to feel comfortable expressing myself." As if on cue, the wind picked up, causing his bisexual cape to flutter behind him. "I'm able to be who I am because of this city. Thank you, New York!"

The crowd started cheering, and Peter swung down into the middle of it, managing to hold short conversations with various people before being whisked off to talk with someone else.

He ended up in front of a young boy who had the trans flag painted on both of his cheeks and a pan flag tied around his neck.

"H-Hi," the boy stammered. "I love you, Spider-Man! You're my favorite hero!"

Peter smiled at the kid. He looked to be maybe around 13 or 14. "I'm flattered. Have you been having fun today?"

The kid didn't answer, instead staring intensely at Peter. Finally he blurted out, "Thank you for saving me!"

Peter blinked. "Saving you?"

The boy nodded. "Y-Yes! A few nights ago, my stepfather, he - he kicked me out of the house, and he followed me away, and he... He started hitting me, but then - then you showed up and you saved me!"

Peter was thankful his mask hid his shocked expression. He remembered that encounter all too well. "That was you?"

"Yes. And I live with my aunt now so everything is okay but I just - I just wanted to say thank you."

Peter almost asked why the boy's stepfather had kicked him out, but given that the trans flags on his cheeks were streaked with tears... That told Peter everything he needed to know.

"Hey," Peter said, placing his hands on the kid's shoulders. "I want you to know that you should always be proud of who you are, okay? No matter what anyone tries to tell you, your identity is beautiful." He winked at the boy. "Remember, Spider-Man will always be on your side."

It was no coincidence, Peter figured, that at that moment his suit shifted from the colors of the trans flag to the pan one.

He said goodbye to the boy before swinging up and out of the crowd, high fiving people as he went.

Pride.

It was a funny word, really.

Pride meant a mixture of confidence in oneself and trust in others.

And in that moment, Peter had never been prouder.

xXx

Mr. Stark: quite a stunt you pulled at NY pride today, Mr. Parker

Peter: lol sorry i didn't tell you that was what the suit was for

Mr. Stark: first of all, it was so obvious that was what the suit was for. second, why didn't you tell me? did you think I'd disapprove? kid you know I've been out since the 90s

Peter: I was worried you might think it was too flamboyant for a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man

Mr. Stark: there's no such thing as being too flamboyant. I made a few modifications to my own armor for a trip I myself plan on making to pride tomorrow

Peter: what?! without me, Mr. Stark? how could you

Mr. Stark: Pete. I never said you couldn't go with me

Peter: so I'm invited?!

Mr. Stark: whatever you want, kid

Peter: yesssss tomorrow is gonna be awesome

Mr. Stark: uh huh. Sure.

Peter: :D

Mr. Stark: hey, kid?

Peter: yeah?

Mr. Stark: I'm proud of you. You know that, right?

A single tear fell onto the screen of Peter's phone. Maybe of happiness. Maybe of thanks. Maybe even just of sentiment.

Peter: thank you, sir.

Mr. Stark: but don't get used to the compliments

Mr. Stark: i have a reputation to maintain

Peter: sure, Mr. Stark. sure

Peter put his phone on his dresser, falling backwards onto his bed. The day had been perfect. Even if he had chickened out yet again in confessing his feelings to MJ. But that was okay.

At least he'd made Mr. Stark proud.

Huh.

Peter chuckled to himself.

Maybe he should pull flamboyant stunts more often.

xXx

Thank you for requesting this! Other drabbles probably (for my sake lol) will not be this long. If anyone else wants to send a request, please feel free to do so. Again, thank you for reading!

[miss-choco-chips]

Miraculous Ladybug Au part 1

For @iphoenixrising who I think might like the idea. Thanks for always giving me confidence hon. I hope this cheers you up a lil bit.

Where Dick is guilty for wanting what he wants, Jason is confused about who he wants, and Tim just wants to sleep.

<<-Hey, Tim, check this out! You missed big time! That’ll show you not to go on vacation without me to keep you in touch with the real, exciting world.

-Uh?

-Someone on Instagram just posted a twenty seconds clip of Robin doing something.

-People are always posting about the bats. How is this news, Steph?

-Shh, I’m getting there. Look at this. This Robin is waaay too short. It’s not the one we’ve had for the last three years.

-... and? There were two different Robins before him, maybe he just outgrew it or something.

-But, where is he? The others came back, with new names and powers, they… they didn’t left us.

-Maybe it’s just taking him some time, to decide who is he going to be now.

-...Yeah, maybe. He saved me and my daughter once, you know. Took one hell of a blow for us. Wherever he is, I hope he’s doing okay, and gets himself on track quickly. The city needs him.

-I’m sure he’ll appreciate the sentiment. And… I hope that, too.>>

Now...

He tumbled through the open window, face planting into his bed, the transformation letting up even before his forehead was properly buried in the pillow. His muscles practically melting against his Nightwing comforter (birthday present from Dick, oh the irony), the scent of smoke still clinging to it from the last time the boys dropped in for a impromptu visit (nearly scaring the bejesus out of him when he heard their voices and footsteps climbing up the stairs to his bedroom while he still was in the suit, holy fuck-!).

He wanted to sleep so badly. But he had maybe (it was around five a.m, right?) two hours until he needed to leave for work, and if he took a nap now, he might not be able to wake up on time.

-Are you alright, Timmy?

Gathering whatever leftover strength he had in him, he turned his head to the side, his almost closed eyes finding the worried ones of his kwami.

-Yeah. Only tired.

-I’d bet -the little bird-like creature huffed, his tiny black and red chest puffing like an offended peacock-. You are running yourself too ragged.

-Well, lots of things to do. Work stuff, Red Robin stuff, Tim Drake stuff... Not to mention, college.

-Speaking of… -trailed off the kwami, his big blue eyes signaling towards the desk, where his Advanced Economic’s paper awaited for attention.

Tim followed Rouge’s line of sight and promptly groaned when he got the hint, dropping his head once again in the mattress.

-Fuuuuuck. When was that due for?

-Tomorrow. And you’re supposed to met up with Jason today, and dinner with Dick after that. If you cancel on any of them again...

-...Well, it’s not like I actually expected to get any sleep today.

-Two all nighters in a row?

-It’s like you read my mind.

----.----.----

Then...

He met Richard at the circus, when he was four, but since the other boy didn’t remember (his parent’s death probably overwrote anything else in his memory of that night), their official meeting happened two months later, when Dick was formally introduced to high society as Bruce Wayne’s ward.

-Mister Wayne -his father shook Bruce's hand, fake smile firmly in place- and this must be young Richard. Hi, champ, I'm Jack Drake, and this is my lovely Janet.

Behind his mother, Tim couldn't repress a giggle. Champ, dad? Really?

-Good evening, gentleman -his mother, the perfect picture of a lady, smiled delicately behind her gloved hand. It didn't reach her glacial blue irises, but it was enough to fool most businessmen in lowering their defenses.

Tim himself had eyes only for the boy clutching the taciturn billionaire's sleeve. He wondered how was he feeling, if he had tried to fly at all since his parents deaths. He hoped so.

Dick had looked so happy while flying.

—I'm Tim —he butted in, when it was obvious his father intended to speak business and leave the introductions behind them— A pleshure.

He winced internally when the last word was mispronounced, and externally when his mother's nails sank into his shoulder in consequence.

-You'll have to forgive him, he's a baby still -laughed his mother, her hand letting him go and reaching for his father’s elbow-. Go explore, Tim. Your dad has people he needs to talk to, all boring stuff. I’m sure it’s the same with Mister Wayne.

Said man seemed to agree, though how Tim knew, he couldn’t tell, as the man’s expression barely changed.

Dick, on the other side, seemed absolutely crestfallen.

And he knows, he knows he's going to get into trouble for this the moment they are home, but the expression in the boy’s face is just… He wants to wipe it clean, like his nanny does for him when he gets tomato sauce on his cheek.

(It's so different from how he looked that night, soaring the skies besides his parents. Had been so… free)

«Was it then, when he started to put Dick's happiness before his own?»

—Mister Wayne -he finally gathered enough courage to talk, going as far as to interrumput his father’s speech about current politics- can Richard come play with me? Please? We’ll behave.

Dick's small, thankful smile was enough to warrant Bruce's permission, and seal Tim's destiny away.

----.----.----

Now...

-Tiiiiiiimmmyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!

He regrets picking up without double checking the caller id. So strongly.

In defense of his sleep deprived brain, it was an unknown number. So either Dick had a new phone, was burrowing someone’s for any reason, or he had caught on on Tim’s attempt at taking distance, decided to try and catch him when he knew he had his defenses low (before eight a.m) and bought a burner to accomplish it.

-It’s six in the morning. You better have a damn good reason to be calling me so… chirpily, at this ungodly hour.  You don’t even have to work till nine, why are you awake?

Because Nightwing, along with Red Robin, had been fighting an akumatized nurse  not two hours ago. But, since Dick didn’t know Tim knew, his obvious response at such a close corner was to deflect with a practiced, not awkward-totally-but-still-noticeably laugh.

-Come on, honey, where’s my happy Timmers? Who spat in your cereal?

Rouge passed by his bathroom mirror, where Tim was inspecting his reflection in search of his will to live, and like the god-like tiny thing he was, he rubbed comfortingly against his partner’s cheek, as if lending him strength.

Tim sighed and put the phone in speaker, dropping it on the marble countertop. He wasn’t getting out of this conversation anytime soon, so might as well continue with his morning routine.

Tam once compared it to watching a snake changing skins. From the tired, more-than- slightly-murderous teen, to the wow-lookit-a-respectable-young-man.

-First, you ever call me that again, I’ll rearrange your face a la Picasso. Second, no one uses that expression. And lastly, only you eat that crap anyway.

-That’s a lie, I know for a fact you have at least two different brands in your kitchen, even though one is an insult to the cereal industry. Fiber, blegh.

-Because one is for you when you visit, and the other I bought on an impulse of spite to punish you for… I don’t remember now, but I’m sure it was horrible and deserving of drastic measures.

He could hear Dick’s laugh over the line. Once upon a time, the sound would make Tim’s mood  lighten, like an echo of the other.

Now it hurt a little.

-You’re spending too much time with Jason and not nearly enough with me. You used to be such a sweet, eager to please angel. What happened?

-I asked your dad to let you play with me, and here I am, fourteen, fifteen years later, looking at my life, looking at my choices -and looking for his damn tie, which he swore he left by the toothbrush yesterday, where the fuck… - Asking myself where I went wrong.

-Yeah, now I remember why I never call you this early.

-About that, was there a reason, or you just wanted to take Jason’s place of honour in my hit-list?

Dick choked on a laugh, and Tim took the chance to quickly brush his teeth. His hair was a lost cause and he had learned to ignore it or risk spending too much time in a battle he wouldn't win. Easier to just ask Tam to brush it for him at the office, because that woman was a magician and Tim would fire the whole board of investor from D.I  before letting her go.

-Just checking in. We are still on for movie night, right? Because I might just use my power as a law enforcer and arrest you if you cancel on me again.

With one last look at his reflection (making damn sure his concealer hid both the black and blue spot by his jaw and his ever-growing eye bags), he picked up his phone and started for the kitchen. Rouge, bless his little soul, had plugged in the coffee maker, and the smell called to him like light to a moth.

And there was his tie, by the pot. Score.

-Movie night? -he asked, dubiously, glancing at his kwami. Rouge’s brow furrowed and he shook his head- No, we were going out for dinner. I’m sure.

-It’s Tuesday. Tuesdays were always movie night days. I thought it was implied, Timmy, for God’s sake.

Tuesday were movie night days back when they were five and eleven respectively, even before Jason was adopted, up until Dick started getting busier and calling it quits more often than not. It had been a while since they followed the tradition.

-Uhm, no, sorry. I have a paper due tomorrow, and was going to work on it after dinner with you. Can’t stay the night at your place. Rain check?

-...Yeah. Okay, sure. But you aren’t getting out of dinner.

He could hear Dick’s disappointment over the line. Once upon a time, the sound would ruin Tim’s mood, like an echo of the other.

Now, it still hurt a little.

(More than a little. Fuck)

It’d be easier if he could just cut ties with them all as Tim Drake. If he could get up and leave them, betray their trust, their love.

Like Nightwing had done with Red Robin. Or, to be fair, Robin.

----.----.----

Then…

Tim had known of the Akumas since… forever, really. They had been haunting Gotham long before he was born, hurting people, destroying things, breaking everything in their reach apart.

And then, when he was but a baby, the Batman appeared. Mrs Mac, the housekeeper, told him about it once. How, when the city was going through it’s darkest times, a knight of shadows and justice had risen, taking upon himself the responsibility of protecting the city.

Protecting everyone, really.

He, as any gothamite born and raised, had watched in wonder at whatever recordings the News Channels could provide, talked theories with his friends, stayed up at night wondering who the magic hero might be…

Until said magic hero recruited a sidekick, and Tim stayed up at night for totally new reasons.

(He’d recognize those moves, those tricks, but above all else, that laugh, anywhere)

He wanted so badly to knock at Wayne Manor’s doors, hunt down Bruce and fucking scream at him. Akumas were dangerous, whoever sent them was dangerous, fucking Gotham was dangerous, and Dick was his friend. His thirteen year old friend, who had been a hero for years before the lucky camera man had caught him on frame, revealing the mysterious partner to the world. And while Tim was a kid himself, barely seven, he was smarter than tons of adults he knows. Smarter than Bruce, at least, since he, unlike the other, understood the dangers of the night. Of Gotham herself.

He got as far as the inner gym, where Dick was practicing by the trapezius, flying from end of the room to the other, spinning, twisting mid air, laughing when the roof got too close to his face in one of the highest jumps. And then (maybe because he caught sight of Tim watching by the door, maybe he wanted to show off just a little, maybe he wanted to tell him something and this was the only way to properly express it...), a quadruple somersault, the one he performed for Tim that first night -even if he doesn’t remember that-, the one Robin was caught on camera doing, the one that gave him away.

And Tim, caught in his amazement of the boy, unable to take away this if it was what gave him his wings back, could only clap and yell ‘again!’.

----.----.----

Now...

-You look like death warmed over -greeted Tam when he passed by her desk in his way to his office. Like the well trained boy he was, he detoured, dropping in the empty chair by her side she always had ready for him. Within a second, his assistant took a hairbrush from her purse and started to work her magic in his head.

-Didn’t sleep and had to deal with a morning person before seven. You’d look just as bad, thank you very much.

-Dick called?

He huffed. Rouge, in the inner pocket of his jacket, pressed closer to him for the movement. He stilled immediately, knowing the kwami needed all the sleep he could get.

-That obvious?

-You don’t associate with a lot of morning people.

-There’s something inherently wrong with them, if they are happy that early.

-One of your best friends is like that -Tam tutted, working on a specially difficult knot. Tim didn’t dare complain, even when the tug to his scalp made him wince.

-Bart is a special case, he lives in a perpetual state of high. I still believe he takes cocaine and redbull with his breakfast.

She hummed, hairbrush now discarded in favour of her fingers. They passed through his hair without resistance, his bedhead (could it be called that, when he hadn’t actually slept?) all but gone, the movements soothing. There weren’t a lot of things capable to relax him, these days.

-Well, you have an eleven o’clock appointment with a possible investor, but between that and the board meeting at three, you are a free man. I can make sure no one bothers you while you cat nap.

-I’d love to, but Jason will come and drag me out of here kicking and screaming if I miss lunch with him. Or worse, he might find me asleep and princess carry me all the way to the restaurant in plain view of as many cameras as he can as punishment.

Tam shook her head in amusement and fondness, releasing his hair and straightening on her chair, her ‘back to business’ pose- I’ll never understand your relationship with those boys, I swear.

A sigh, roll of shoulders and he was ready to face the day too.

-Neither will I.

-But you’ll miss them, if they leave.

A flash of something passes through his eyes.

----.----.----

Then...

-I miss you. Don’t you miss me?

Dick, sixteen in body but about five in soul pouted at the screen of his computer, trying to convey the ‘mean, little brother!’ expression as perfectly as possible.

Tim snorted through his nose, getting comfortable on the bed; the notebook on his lap, back to the headboard of the too-big matres, pillows everywhere.

-I can use your bed whenever you go away, so I’ll go with a tentative ‘maybe’. ‘sides, you’ve been gone for two months, Dick. The exchange program goes for seven to eight. Give me another one or so, and I’ll be crying for you to come back.

-That’s an ugly lie, but I appreciate the effort -a change of stance, then the voice turned utterly blank- How are things over there?

Tim bites his lip, wondering, but what would he gain hiding it? If Dick already knew, he would expect Tim, as a young kid, to mention it. If he didn’t, he would find out soon enough and wonder why he didn’t tell him.

-You know how for the last few months Robin just… stopped appearing?

-...yeah?

-Well, he came back a few days ago, and either he shrunk, or it’s someone else.

Dick’s expression doesn’t change, so Tim knows he made the right call telling him; he was already aware.

-Oh? Another kid, putting his life in danger? I wonder what those child activists think about it.

-Keep asking for Batman’s head on a platter, like usual. I think it helps that this one isn’t as small as the previous one was when he first appeared, but, you know. Still setting on fire Batman merchandise in the streets.

-The original Robin wasn’t small. You are small.

-Reaaally mature, Dick. Since when are you in Robin’s protection squad?

-Always been my favorite hero.

Self centered, much?

-Hm… And what about the new one?

-...Let’s wait and see if he can fill the shoes.

-Lucky for him, they’re just kid shoes, no clown ones.

A small, real smile steals his way into Dick’s face, and Tim wants to throw a happy fist to the air.

He lives for that smile.

-You are a dork. Anything else new?

Again, uncertainty, but this one was easier to explain if detected. After all, Dick was aware of how uncomfortable was Tim in his new position as the mediator.

-Jason’s adapting. His grades went up and…

-Oh, look at that. Sorry, Timmers, I gotta go. My roommate is texting me that he wants to hang out.

-Oh… okay. Are we… are we face timing for movie night later? right?

-Yeah, yeah, sure -he waved a hand, as if discarding Tim, and he just knew Dick was going to forget about it… again-. Go have fun. Your parents are still traveling, right? Give Bruce a few white hairs while you’re at the Manor for me. I think he might get bored, without me there to spice things and kickstart his nervous system once an hour. The life of a businessman is soooooo dull.

(Except when said business man is practically a magical girl. God, once Stpeh had made that comparison, Tim just couldn’t unsee it)

He tries to laugh, but it’s empty. He won’t push the issue, and Dick won’t talk about it willingly, but they are both aware of the elephant in the room.

-Wouldn't dream of taking your place as the ever-evolving ulcer in his stomach. Take care. Bye.

He closed the computer lid and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. The situation made him uneasy. It was hard, being Dick’s loyal, loving little brother, Bruce’s unproblematic charge (since his parents decided that letting Tim stay with Wayne during their trips was cheaper than the nanny and housekeeper), and Jason’s-

-Hey, Baby Bird, you done talking to the jackass?

He nearly jumped out of his skin, neck almost breaking with how quickly he turned to face the door.

-Jason! -the automatic smile, brought to fore by the mere sight of his friend in workout clothes (he must have been training) melt into a frown when the words sank in- Don’t be a jerk.

-He’s a dick, pun unintended.

-Cut him some slack, it’s the ‘no more single child’ symptom. He’s just jealous to have to share Bruce’s attention.

-Ain’t he a little too old for that?

-I don’t think ‘old’ is a word you could ever use to describe Dick. Ever. I mean, he’ll be retired and have like twenty grandchildren, and still give off the ‘young, single and ready to mingle’ vibe.

The laugh is so sudden, so surprising, Jason chokes on his own spit.

-You’re a riot. Why do I like you, again?

-Because if not for me, you’ll be alone in this big, scary house, with only Alfred and Bruce for company.

-Alf’s cool.

-Yeah, but he’ll put you to do chores if he thought you’re bored enough to get up to some mischief.

-Sometimes you talk like an 90’s British book.

-Shut up, Harry Potter is my Bible. Besides, not like you can talk about british literature.

Another laugh, and the last of Jason’s tension faded away like a charm. Tim left the computer on the bedside table and stretched, getting up.

-Come on, let’s go find some way to make your Dad rethink his life choices.

-Fuck French, you speak the language of love.

----.----.----

Now...

It was on his way to that new Barbeque on Cameron Street, northwest from Diamond district, when the ground beneath his feet shifted and he and another fifteen passers-by were caught in what seemed like an asphalt cage.

In the middle of the street. With no corner to hide and transform.

Great.

There wasn’t any villian in sight, so the akumatized person probably had just wanted some back up hostages. Most likely, they weren’t the only ones trapped.

And that in the corner was a street cam. Fuck.

He needs to get out and help catch the bad guy of the day, but can’t exactly break asphalt with his bare hands, and transforming in front of fifteen eyewitnesses and a camera isn’t exactly an option.

So, he takes out his phone.

-What’ll you do? -comes the whisper from within his jacket, and he looks down just enough to look at his kwami without drawing attention at himself.

-Well, at this rate I’m going to be late for lunch. It’d be rude of me if I don’t tell Jay about it -he types quickly while he talks, making sure the annoyed (and it always stuns Conner, his friend from metropolis, how Gothamites consider freaks and monsters running around a minor inconvenience; how used to crazy they are) people around him aren’t paying his actions enough attention-. There. Sent.

-Hope he’s not  mad at you.

-He can't be, I didn't postpone anything. Just told him I'll be held up here until Red Hood gets his ass on gear and does his job.

-Should you text Dick as well?

-Nah, that'd be too much of an overkill.

-...

-...

-...How long until he comes guns blazing to the rescue?

-Two, three minutes tops.

It was the basis of his and Jason's relationship, the knowledge that, if in peril, they could always count on the other to come running to either save them or hold their hands while everything went to shit.

----.----.----

Elsewhere…

-Hm… the little shit is taking his time. Think I should go get him?

The kwami popped her head out of the bike helmet Jason had left in the extra chair he requested for the table. She seemed deeply unimpressed.

-okay, okay, I'll give him five more minutes. Then, it's fair game.

A sudden ping called his attention to the cell phone carelessly left above the tablecloth. It was the most obnoxious sound he could think of, and was as such his ringtone for the young man he was actually waiting for. It was a sound he couldn't ignore, or sleep over it.

BabyBird:

^Hey Jay, might be a little late for lunch

-That little…

Another ping.

BabyBird:

^Got held up on my way there, some akuma caged me and other fifteen people. Don’t know how long until one of the masks comes to the rescue

^Lol, some woman doesn't give a DUCK and just keeps fighting with someone over the phone about someone named Jerry

Ping.

BabyBird:

^update; Apparently Jerry is her son and she's fighting her ex.

Another ping, quickly following the former.

BabyBird:

^...I'm going to kill either you or Dick. Who programmed my phone to replace all swear words? You motherHUGGERS.

He was out of the door before the last text actually sank in and, by the time he ducked behind a corner, was already laughing.

-Tireur, arm me up!

----.----.----

Then…

He didn’t care who he pushed or tripped on his way to Jason’s room. He wasn’t hearing their screams and complaints. The sound he heard when turning left on the next corner might have been a paparazzi’s camera, or an IV stand he knocked down in his haste, but, again, it wasn’t important at the moment.

The only thing in his head right now, was the echo of that psychotic laughter, of Batman’s screams, of his own gasp when the news coverage showed footage of Robin, bloodied and hurt, trying to get away from a building about to blow up… and failing.

The full blown panic attack that followed made him hyperventilate so bad he actually lost consciousness, only to wake up to the sound of his phone going off and Alfred’s voice on the line telling him how Master Jason, along some other victims, had been caught in the same explosion the Joker, the clown that got akumatized every other week, caused. The same that took Robin out.

He refrained from yelling at Alfred to not lie to him, he already knows who Robin is and who he was before. He knows everything, so don't lie to him, not about something as serious as this…! But only because it was Alfred, and no one yelled at him.

Instead, he asked for updates, still on his phone while running to Wayne Manor, where the butler was ready to give him a lift to the hospital.

Jason was just asleep, they told him, like he was too young and naive to hear the truth. His body needed time to get better, so his head had taken a little vacay.

He was just asleep, the doctors said. All the while Tim kept running numbers in his head, statistics on how likely it was for comatose patients to wake up.

But Jason wasn’t another statistic. He was his friend, his brother, his hero.

Robin. His Robin. The one he watched from the very beginning, the one he discretely helped easing into the hero life by being always there, to unwind after a fight or hang out when the dangers of the life he lead hounded up on him.

The sobs he tried so hard to reign in were now freely bursting out of his dry lips.

When Tim cried, it usually was a quiet thing, tears rolling down marble cheeks, not a sound escaping his mouth. A cry for help from a child who knew no one would come running at the sound of his pain. A resigned thing.

There, at Jason’s bedside, clasping the boy’s hand on his own, what came out of his chest through his mouth was a full out, loud, broken wail.

The next couple of days were kind of a blur to him. He was aware that, at some point, Mister Wayne had tried to coax him away from the room and to his home. He knows, too, that had his parents been there to witness his hysterical tantrum, he would have been grounded until it was time for him to leave for college. Every few hours, Alfred would came and feed him small bits of food. Sometimes he threw up, sometimes he didn't. It was like tossing a coin on that one.

He thinks it’s a week later, but it could very well be a month, when he weaseled his way into Jay’s bed, careful of the IVs attached to his arms, and spoke out loud for probably the first time since the explosion.

-You don’t have to keep hiding. I know about you. About how… you gave Dick, and then Jay, their powers. I… I know I’m not the only one grieving, so if you want, we could… keep each other company.

A few moments passed by. It was okay. Tim wasn’t going anywhere.

Then, a small green and yellow head poked out of Jason’s pillowcase, big blue eyes staring at  Tim in wonder and wariness.

-...how?

-Dick’s not nearly as inconspicuous as he believes he is. I already knew he was Robin, but couldn’t figure out how exactly did he get his powers… Until one day, he thought I was asleep, and transformed in the bathroom attached to the room I was in. Doofus didn’t even completely close the door.

The little thing laughed, like a bell. Tim borrowed deeper into Jay’s side.

-My name is Merle, Robin’s kwami.

-I’m Tim.  Robin’s friend.

----.----.----

Now…

Red Hood arrived at the scene in record time. He was almost impressed.

Once there, the masked hero drew his guns, loading each of them with a brown and gold magazine. As far as Tim understood, Hood’s powers derived from his firearms, and he had different kind of bullets for specific situations.

He shot at strategic points in the asphalt cage, crumbling it to the ground. Coincidently, none of those points were near the corner were Tim was crouched. Typical.

-Is everyone alright? -asked the hero, once the dust had settled and they were free.

A few nods, some ‘thanks for the save’ then and there, the occasional ‘any clue where the Akuma is? I’d like to avoid it today’, and then the people scattered. A woman strode past Red Hood, phone at hand, yelling something about child support.

Tim took his time getting up, straightening his tie and running his fingers through his hair in an attempt at controlling the strands again.

-Hey -the masked man approached him, concern palpable in his tone- you alright, Tim?

It said something about his life as Tim Drake, that he was on first name basis with Gotham’s heroes.

-Yep, just hungry. I was on my way to have lunch with my friend, so I’ll be leaving now.

He saw the anxiety flash through Hood’s expression at the mention, remembering that Tim was expecting to see his alter ego at the restaurant, but he still had an Akuma to catch.

-Ah, wait! You mean, that Jason dude, right?

-Yeah?

Tim wondered if it made him a sadist, the satisfaction he got from making Jason, Dick or Damian squirm like this, putting them on the fence with his ‘innocent’ worry about their alter egos.

-I saw him on m’way here, actually. Said somethin’ came up, and he’s gonna take a raincheck on lunch.

He let the tiniest bit of disbelief slip into his facade, before seemingly deciding to trust the masked man.

-Oh, what a shame. I’ll be very busy the next couple of weeks, it’s going to be a while before we can meet up again.

-That.. that sucks. But, ah, ‘m sure he’ll get it. I gotta go now, kid. See ya around.

He watched Hood’s retreating back as he shot a line at the nearest rooftop. Perfect, since now he’d have the time to transform and catch up with him to help with the Akuma as Red Robin. If Tim Drake got the chance at skipping bonding time with Jason? Even better.

He wasn’t mad at Jason, the way he was at Dick’s alter ego, Nightwing. Jay never hurt him, never casted either him nor Red Robin out (exception made for the very first encounters they had as heroes, back when he still used the Robin miraculous).

But, since his alter ego had slept with Jason’s, he figured he had every reason to feel a little shy.

----.----.----

Then…

-You never tried to get to know him -he said, and it wasn’t a reproach, just a fact. Nevertheless, Dick still cringed in place, bending in on himself like a kid sent to time out.

-I… I know.

-He is just a kid Bruce saw something in. Like you, a kid who needed someone to see his brightest parts, and take him in to give him a chance at a better future.

-I know.

-He’s… he’s a very good person. Really smart, loyal and caring.

-I… know. You told me.

-You are/ Dick, you are one of the best people I know, if not THE best. Why would you treat an innocent kid like the gum stuck in your shoe?

Dick squirms in his place by the door, not daring to get closer to the bed where both Tim and Jason laid, but obviously wanting. Not that it mattered. Jason wouldn’t want him so close by, specially at his most vulnerable, and Tim was nothing if not the ferocious dragon protecting the sleeping Prince’s will, his surname all too fitting.

-Just… It’s just stupid, okay? And it doesn’t matter now. All that matters, is that he gets better. And if… when, he wakes up, I’ll explain it to him.

Dick wouldn’t be able to see him, because of the angle, but Tim catched the yearning and sad look Merle, hiding between Jason’s covers, sent his oldest partner. The little fairy (kwami, Tim reminded himself), his companion this last weeks in guarding Jason’s room, seemed as troubled as Tim had been when he was expected to mediate between the two adopted brothers.

-But not me.

There was something a little dark, a little sad and a little empty in Dick’s eyes. For the first time ever, he didn’t feel the compulsion to fill that void with happiness.

-I don’t think I can stomach telling you, BabyBird.

----.----.----

Now…

He intercepts Red Hood two blocks away from Newtown, still in Crime Alley territory but close enough to the other neighborhood. Since D.I was by Moench Row, just between the Fashion and Diamond districts, it took some time to catch up on the hero.

The fight is well in its final course when he arrives. The Bat is here, which means Red Hood is content on just sharpshooting from a close by rooftop. N and R are missing, but Tim already knew they would be: it’s not Dick’s patrol time, and R must be at school.

As the independent vigilantes, neither Red Robin nor Red Hood follow Batman’s patrol routes nor schedules. For the later, it means he can choose to stay close to the Bowery, Crime Alle and Chinatown, where he feels he’s more useful. For himself, it means he doesn’t have someone putting a hand to his shoulder and mandating down time after a few  consecutive hard patrols.

When he was Robin, he wasn’t allowed to fight during school hours, nor after three a.m. If there was some kind of emergency that required all hands on dock, it meant almost a week of taking things slow, because even if B didn’t know his nightlife protege was also his daylife charge, he would never leave a kid under his protection unsupervised enough to hurt themselves. Now, he can choose whenever the fuck he wants to help, and when he feels like leaving the others to deal with it (watching from afar how Dick and Jason dealt with a akuma with the powers of body switching people, and how the heroes had to improvise working with bodies and powers that didn’t suit them, had been too funny to actually put any effort to stop).

Shaking his head to clear it from the memories, he landed softly by Hood’s side, careful to not startle the hero laying on his stomach by the edge of the roof, with a long-distance rifle ready to go on his hands.

-Ya came all t’way here for nothin, Pretty Bird. The old man has it all in hand.

Letting himself fall at the edge, legs dangling and resting his weight on his arms behind him, he allows his gaze to travel through the skyline of buildings. It was a nice view, for those used to the air pollution and angry drivers yelling a few stories bellow.

-Had lunch cancelled, thought I might as well.

Hood grunts, shifting his stance to a less alert one. B clearly didn’t need their help.

-I had fucking plans, man. If B wasn’t in the fucking way, I’d put a bullet through the bastard, see if he lets himself get akumatized again.

Tim crooked his head to the side, analyzing the crazy of the hour.

-It’s a new one, though. I don’t recognize him. Probably his first time getting transformed?

-It’s already one too many. Our lives are just as shitty as anyone’s in the city, and you don’t see us fucking shit up.

-To be fair, we get our chances at therapeutic skull smashing when we keep those guys in check.

A few feet under them, Batman’s batarang was already boomeranging past the former akumatized transit police woman, slicing through the black and green butterfly and setting free the white and pink one trapped inside it.

And he hadn’t needed to move a single muscle. Sighing in defeat (he sooo could have used this time to power nap before his next meeting at work), he climbed to his feet.

-Seems like you were right, we shouldn’t have bothered to come. See ya, Hoo/

-Hey -interrupted the other, suddenly standing, rifle out of sight and way too deep into Tim’s personal bubble-, since we r' both here… no energy lost… n' we didn’t use our miraculous, so no chance of us de-transformin' suddenly…

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Hood, please don’t say it.

-One of my safe spot’s near. Want ta come for a cup of tea?

Don’t play along. Don’t play along. Goddammit, Tim, Don’t play along.

He takes that last step separating them, hands carefully delineating the outline of Hood’s suit of armor.

-You know I don’t drink your dirty leaf-water.

The other hero’s hands were big enough, they could almost completely envelope his waist, something never failed to arouse him.

-Good. Then we can go straight to the cake.

All the way to Hood’s (Jason’s) secret apartment, Tim berated himself, again and again, about how bad of an idea this was. How fucked up (in both senses, oh my god) was he going to be by the end of it. How uncomfortable was it going to be for him to actually talk to the man when the masks came out and Jay was looking at his best friend, not knowing he had had his tongue on his mouth, his neck, deep inside his ass. Not knowing why Tim was suddenly avoiding him.

Why he felt so goddamned guilty.

But, once they arrived to the place, and his back was to the wall not two seconds later, Hood’s strong body pressed tight against his, hands grabbing anything they could, mouth hot and dirty and doting…

He could only throw his head back and moan.

----.----.----

Then...

The city was in absolute chaos. From his place by Jason’s windowsill, Tim winced at the fiery remnants of the last explosion (by the library? It could have also been the post office), the hospital one of the few places untouched by the madness that was Gotham right now.

In his hands, his smartphone kept him up to speed about what was taking place on the streets. Apparently, the patients at Arkham Asylum had been akumatized again, only at the same fucking time. The Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy and Two Faces so far. Apparently, the first two had already been apprehended and de transformed, and the third was calm and unobtrusive at Robinson Park, but since they had kept the Bat focused on them until now, that meant the last of the lot had enough time to completely cover the city in bombs.

Which exploded two at a time, every two hours and twenty two minutes. There was a serious OCD there.

Perched on Tim’s propped up knee, Merle’s sky blue eyes danced from one burning spot to the other, shining like little red and yellow dots on the map that was Gotham from such a height.

-The library -quietly commented the kwami.

-And the Museum -Tim added, fingers tapping the location on the screen of the phone, on the downloaded blueprints of the city.

-Before that, it was the park.

-And the Aquarium.

-And the first two where the Zoo…

-...and planetarium.

-Why those places?

Minutes were ticking by. Bombs kept going off, unpredictable locations being blown up with everyone inside with them. Batman and Nightwing, Gotham’s newest hero, were running themselves ragged, trying to contain the damage and stop the villain. Batgirl worked with the authorities to keep buildings standing, her Eye of Insight (which, Tim was now aware, was her Miraculous) determining the most flimsy spots in the structures, the ones they needed to reinforce before the entire thing crumbled down.

And Tim was here, at the hospital, hearing the nurses and doctors doing their best to save everyone from being a casualty of the akuma’s violence, useless to both his family and the innocents from Gotham that were most likely going to die today.

(Everything because Bruce couldn’t think straight)

-Kids, Merle -he answered, his phone going, once again, to the billionaire's voicemail-. Those are all places where kids like to go, or have to. If he keeps the timeline, the next attack would be at two twenty two a.m, and it’s going to be…

-Gotham’s kindergarten? -the little creature tried to guess. It wasn’t too far off, since, judging by how many witnesses on twitter swore to have spotted the bat at Gotham’s primary school, B thought the same.

But it was wrong.

(Everything because, since Jason died, Bruce stopped thinking about the akumatized people as… people. People with minds of their own. With feelings)

-The orphanage.

(Horrible and twisted feelings, but feelings after all)

-We have to stop him!

-How? B isn’t picking up. Neither is Alf. Dick’s phone is at my house where he left it yesterday. I have no other way to contact them. And Bruce is so deep in his rage because of Jason’s accident, he’s so desperate to hurt something, he’s being impulsive. Reckless. He’s not going to think about orphans until it’s too late.

-We can’t just stay here! -Merle cried out, desperate at the sight of his city in flames, of one of his boys out there risking his life, and the other fighting for it in the bed behind their backs.

-Well, what would you have me do? -Tim finally snapped, standing from the windowsill and turning to face the kwami- I can’t just take a bus to Gotham’s school and yell at B to move his ass!

-Yes you can! You have to!

-I’ll never make it in time! There’s no vehicle that could dodge the shitstorm that must be the streets now, and unless you have some way for me to travel via rooftops, I would never make it there! I can’t help anyone! I’m not Robin!

When no reply came, Tim’s eyes, that had strayed to the window again, looked for the kwami.

Merle floated right in front of him, face determined, eyes pleading. He held a too familiar necklace, that almost every boy and girl wore as an ode to their hero. A green ‘R’, encircled in red, on a golden chain.

Robin’s necklace.

-But you could be. If you take this and fly with me, you could be. Gotham needs a hero. Batman needs a Robin. Your family needs you.

On the little screen, the reporters said something about Nightwing being hurt by a burning beam falling on him.

He made the decision before he could even think about it.

-Merle, help me fly.

Robin soared the skies again.

[mind-writing0]

Chapter 17

One of the big things that was made to take his whole attention was the next Report. The last one had made him nervous to the point of nausea, but maybe this one would be better.

After Romelle had them run a bit late, what with her insistence of ironing Virgil's dress shirt twice, they were ready to go. Virgil joined the fourteen other Selected in the hall, and they walked together to the TV studio.

The procedure when they arrived was the same as the first, as they would be doing most of the same things. News, interviews, cameras flashing for magazines Virgil had never been able to afford before. They all filled in their seats when someone tapped Virgil's shoulder.

The black haired teen turned around to see Bill looking both agitated and frustrated. "Can I talk with you in the hall for a sec?" He asked, his voice sounding bittersweet.

Virgil hesitated for a moment. Why would he need to talk to him, and what could he do? Maybe he was trying to eliminate him, as he had been receiving a tad more attention from Roman than the others. Nodding, Virgil decided to follow Bill into a hall. If he did anything, Virgil could tell Roman and have him kicked out, right?

Bill found a room down the hall, a dressing room, that no one was using. Virgil followed him in, but he kept close to the doorknob.

"Your suit, I want it, give it over." Bill said, and his straightforwardness surprised Virgil. Here the blond boy was: threatening, intimidating, mysterious. Though just now he was cutting to the chase. And the oddity of the situation!

Virgil laughed a little, but it was a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry, what?" He looked down at his suit. It was a dark blueish-purple, bedazzled with tiny diamonds to make it sparkle like a night sky.

"Your suit looks better than mine, so I should have the right to wear it." Bill stated stubbornly, unbuttoning his yellow suit jacket.

"What the hell? No, it's my—"

"If you don't let me have it, I'll peel it off your—" Bill had reached up to the left sleeve and ripped some of the fabric off, leaving noticeable damage. "flesh. There, that's what you get for not comprehending me the first time. Bye!" He went around Virgil and slammed the door behind him, leaving him to bask in a problem that he hadn't caused.

Sighing and wiping away his watering eyes, Virgil calmed down before looking in the dressing room for any way to fix it. Luckily there was some sewing thread and a needle. Awkwardly, and with many pokes to the arm, Virgil half-heartedly stitched his sleeve. It still looked scrunched up and ugly, no where in comparison to the beauty his maids had created, but the show must go on.

Setting in his seat, he ignored Bill's smug look and instead insisted on small talk with Lance. When the show started, they stopped to listen.

"Oh, what's this?" Thomas said, "It appears Prince Roman has an announcement. What would you like to say, Your Highness?" He settled in his own round blue chair as Roman was handed a microphone.

Roman stood up from his seat and went to the center of the stage. He cleared his throat, looking out at all his potential subjects before beginning. "Hello everyone, I would like to use this opportunity tonight to inform you all of a problem that needs to be fixed."

Virgil nearly had an aneurysm right then and there.

"We, as participants in a life of luxury, have no clue what troubles the lower class faces to bring us these things. Things that we take for granted, like food, buildings, roads, and every day necessities. Though, sometimes, they must pay their own prices. I have been informed that some go without food, and water, and electricity. Some go without, while we take for granted what is given to us! That is why, as a small start, part of the salary for the Twos and Threes of the Selected will be taken." He was silent for a moment, as there was some gasps and noises of disapproval from the upper class Selected. "It'll be used for a good cause, as every District Services Office will now be supplied with a free meal for all Sevens and Eights. It's only one meal for now, but it has to get us somewhere. We have depended on the lower class, the backbone of society, for long enough. It's time we gave something back. Thank you." Roman handed back his microphone and went back to his seat. The king looked pissed, while the queen was practically glowing with pride, and it was an odd duo to look at.

Virgil couldn't believe it. He was past the point of where he thought Roman would kick him out for every little thing, though he still thought he had offended the prince somehow, as if he told him he was bad at his job before he'd even had a chance at it. But providing meals for the poor and homeless? Virgil could throw up from all the sugary-sweetness that Roman was radiating.

Soon, they started going through interviews, but Virgil was too excited to pay attention to the others.

"Sir Virgil?" Thomas asked, "Lost in a daydream?"

Virgil had indeed been lost in thought, but he snapped back to the reality of the fact that he was being interviewed. "What? Oh, yes...I'm sorry, what?"

"I said," Thomas smile patiently, "you are the last Five in the Selection. Do you think this effects your chances with Prince Roman?"

"No!" Virgil said immediately, offended in his tone. He then realized how passionate he sounded in the matter and decided to try to back it up with something less aggressive. "I mean, Roman would never judge someone on something like that."

Thomas sat up in surprise and interest. "Oh, really? And what else could you say about Roman?"

"Uh..." Virgil blanked out. He'd said just Roman on national TV, but everyone seemed more amused and intrigued than anything else. "I think he's great. Handsome and kind and..." he turned to Roman, meaning every word. "Unexpected."

"Interesting, interesting. Thank you, Sir Virgil, you've been lovely company. That will be all tonight, Ailea. Thank you, all!" Thomas concluded, and the camera crew stopped filming.

"Good j-job, Thomas." Virgil felt his stomach ache from nerves, which was odd considering the cameras were off, but Virgil wanted to put effort into talking to Thomas at least once. It would be cool to tell Valerie, after all.

"Thanks, Virgil! I thought you did too. You're doing well despite the stage fright, I'm proud!" Thomas replied before being handed a bottle of water by a stage hand, who then started telling him of more things he needed to do.

Virgil awkwardly walked off, and his eyes met Roman's. Grinning at him, he tugged his ear, and Virgil smiled back at the idea of a visit

Once he got to his room, his maids were all giving each other knowing looks for some reason.

"Hey, guys, Roman's coming to visit, so...you could leave, if you want. I dunno." Virgil said, feelings of immaturity creeping up on him. His maids all smiled politely and curtsied before leaving, so Virgil knew that his simplistic friendly tone did nothing to demean his status.

Virgil sat at his piano seat and began playing whatever song came to his heart. This one was something more upbeat, yet romantic. He'd usually think of the future with Dan while playing this, but now...now he wasn't sure what he thought about. After a while, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Virgil said, abruptly stopping his music. Roman entered, seeming lost and flustered. "What's wrong?"

"Your music...I'm sorry, it was just so beautiful, I didn't want it to stop, but...I also wanted to see you. I hope that one day, if we have the time, you could play for me?" Roman said quietly.

"Of course, Princey, no big deal. I play for customers all the time, but it'll come at a price."

"Really?" Roman raised his eyebrows in playful intrigue. "What would you want?"

"Um...I don't know." Virgil shrugged, then smiled. "More time to hang out with you, I guess."

"And that is a price I would gladly pay. Shall we go outside?" Roman offered, referring to the balcony outside Virgil's double doors. Virgil agreed with a nod, and they went out into the fresh air. Below them was the view and smell of the garden, and above was the full moon.

"It's nice out here," Virgil commented, "it makes me feel bad that I was so insistent on disturbing those guards that first night."

Roman sighed, and it sounded like a laugh as he rested against the railing with crossed arms. "I am so glad you did that, Virgil. You have no idea how much better you have made this experience for me. I'm not sure how some of these events would have transpired without you here to bring color to it."

"Oh," Virgil replied softly. "I—I don't know what to say. Thank you, Roman. I'm actually glad I got picked for this. I mean, don't get me wrong. It's prestigious and ridiculous and fake but...you're real, you know? At least, I hope so. Because if you are, I'd...I dunno, it'd be worth it. Not just the checks and the different life but...you too." Virgil felt his stomach almost flicker and his heart squeeze as he turned towards Roman. With a small puff of a gasp, he realized the prince was close enough to him to feel the heat on his cheeks. Virgil was surprised to see Roman was close enough to kiss him if he wished.

And he was even more surprised when he did.

It was not a magical first kiss, but it was alright. Quick, a little off aim, but he and Dan had had worse awkward firsts. Leaning back, Roman's wide sparkling brown eyes made him seem surprised by his own actions. "I am so sorry. I should have asked. Stupid, stupid!" Roman knocked himself lightly in the forehead. "I just thought...I thought you liked me, and I just wanted my first kiss to be with someone I really like—"

"Wait, Roman, calm down. That was your first kiss?" Virgil asked with a grin, and Roman looked relieved to the point of exhaustion to see it.

The prince nodded, "As I have mentioned, I've never had the honor of being in love before. Oh, you probably think I'm such a dork now!"

"I do," Virgil replied fondly, "but you're cute. And I do like you, but no offense, that kiss was kind of crappy. Wanna remake that memory?"

"What do you mean?" Roman asked, his cheeks a dark pink that contrasted his slightly pale skin. "Here," Virgil mumbled, reaching out for Roman's waist and guiding him until he was practically holding Virgil against the railing. The black-haired teen then raised his hand to Roman's cheek and leaned towards him, making this kiss a more romantic alternative.

They broke apart, and Roman gazed into Virgil's dark brown eyes with his own half-lidded ones, looking entranced than any man in any relationship. "Virgil Singer," he mumbled, still close enough to kiss every freckle on his face, and he made a note to do that one day if he'd let him. "Would you try for me, darling?"

"Yes," Virgil barely whispered his response, yet to Roman it seemed enough to last him a lifetime. "I'll try."

Next (Coming Soon)

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[yeoshroom]

Hope in Han↬

Synopsis: Normal people only got one chance at love but Jisung wasn’t normal. All he ever told you was to hope and believe and you just so happened to finally, have hope in han.

requested: yes suh for the lovely anon!! (I wasn’t planning on making another part but here we are lol)

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of death, violence, suicide and depression, cursing and underage drinking

you might wanna read pt.1 (Dream Boy) for a better understanding! It’s only like 900 something words :)

“Jisung?” 

“Wait is that really you Y/N?” the boy in front of you questioned frantically. It seemed like so many things were coursing through his mind. His eyes darted everywhere, everywhere on you.

Before you could even snap out of shock and speak, he spoke.

“You still look so beautiful. Oh my gosh, you’re exactly like I remember.” he gaped, His lips forming a smile causing his cheeks to puff up.

“What do you mean? Who are you exactly?” you asked, wondering if that was your Jisung.

He flashed another smile at you and said, “Where’s suite 301?”

You cocked a brow, leaning out the door a bit and pointing at the door right beside yours.

He held up his index finger to you and hopped over to the suite next to yours.

You scratched your head, confused whether or not that was Jisung from your dreams or not. Who was he?

You could hear him speaking to the College junior, Minho, who lived right beside you.

He was apologizing for taking so long and he insisted that it was okay not to tip him.

That’s something your Jisung would do. He was always too nice. Too considerate.

Looking back up from your feet, you came face to face with the odd boy again.

“Can I come in?” his voice suddenly dialed down and his aura was suddenly so vulnerable and shy.

“S-Sure.” you cautiously spit out.

He placed his bag on the countertop and walked over to the living room, plopping himself onto the couch.

You could tell he was tired from his heavy breathing and worn out figure.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you want some water? Do you need me to cook you something?”

You saw his ears perk up and a small smile erupt on his lips.

“I miss your cooking,” he whispered, but both of you heard him loud and clear.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked as you made your way into the kitchen to get him a glass of water.

You watched him turn his head and stare at you over the head of the couch cushion.

“You really don’t remember?” he asked, suddenly sounding heartbroken.

“I’m sorry, no. All I know is that you look super familiar and you remind me of someone I know but at the same time, I don’t.” 

He took the glass from your hands and set it down on the coffee table, replacing the empty space in your hands with his.

“If you promise not to let go of my hand, I promise to explain everything to you,” he said, giving a reassuring squeeze to your hand.

Without a second thought, you nodded.

Holding onto your hand, he used his other to take out something from his shirt. It was a necklace.

The necklace held a ring on it. But the ring seemed too elegant to be only on a necklace. It looked like it was of higher value. Like it was magical or something.

Squeezing your hand once more, he smiled at you and held eye contact.

“I love her and she loves me, take us back to when we were three.” 

You heard loud noises. Screams and yells of excitement filled the air, but you could not see anything.

“Open your eyes darling.” you heard a voice say and so you did.

You looked around and saw little kids running around, kiddie rides here and there, and the smell of greasy food graced the air.

But one thing was off. 

Everything was black and white except you and Jisung.

“Don’t let go of my hand. It’s the only rule,” he said and you looked down at your intertwined hands, nodding your head.

“Where are we exactly?” you asked as you started paying close attention to little details around you.

“I told you I’d explain everything and this is where we start,” he replied with a nostalgic smile.

“You see those two over there?” he questions, pointing with his free hand to the right of the both of you.

You nodded in confusion.

“That’s us!” 

You watched as a small little girl ate a popsicle as another small boy came over with ice cream. He sat next to her and they started to talk.

Smiles and laughs erupted from the both of them and they seemed to hit it off immediately.

“I’m sorry but I think you have the wrong Y/N. I never looked like that as a child,” you said apologetically, remembering the photo book that held pictures of you as a child.

“I didn’t look like that either as a child, but that’s us.”

“Here, I’ll prove it,” he said, dragging you over to the boy and girl.

Standing in front of them, they completely ignored you. Almost as if they couldn’t see you.

“Listen,” he said.

“Hi! My name’s Han Jisung! What’s your name?” the little boy almost screamed, excited to meet someone new.

“My name’s Y/N L/N! Nice to meet you Jisung!” the girl screamed back, equally excited.

“There’s no way. I don’t believe you,” you said, not wanting to believe that he was telling the truth.

“You should.” 

“Then why don’t I look the same in photo albums and family photos?” you questioned.

Disregarding your questions, he pulled the necklace back out and held it firmly.

“Tragic events, Tragic events. Take me back to May the 10th.”

Suddenly you found yourself in a girls bedroom. It was dark and the girl seemed to be a bit older.

“That was you,” Jisung said, pointing at the said girl who sat on the floor, whimpering.

“Why is she crying?” you refused to acknowledge the girl as you. You still didn’t believe him.

“I died.”

“You what?”

“I died. I was in a car accident and died on impact. When you heard about it, you fell into depression. You stopped eating, you didn’t come out of your room, you cried every day, and you started to harm yourself.” Jisung said, suddenly giving off a sad aura.

“You killed yourself.” he choked out, causing you to squeeze his hand in reassurance.

“In the letter, you left behind, you said you did it because you wanted to be with your best friend. You were talking about me,” he explained, causing you to suddenly be hit with a sharp pain in your head.

A wave of memories flooded your mind. You saw the girl and the boy in grade school laughing, transitioning to the girl at the boys funeral, then she was in her bathroom. You watched her overdose.

Shooting back up, you gasped. 

“What just happened?” you asked, as Jisung held you up.

“You remembered.” he simply said, a small feeling of hope sparked inside him.

“There’s no way. I still don’t believe you. If we both died, how come we just met each other and we’re both 18. Wouldn’t we not make it to 18?” you reasoned, causing him to smile.

He disregarded your questions yet again and pulled the necklace back out, holding it firmly.

“Sunny days, Starry nights, take me to 205 on Wright.”

You found yourself in front of a house, filled with kids around the age of 14. 

You looked around and saw the sign. The street name was Wright Street. Looking at the door, the numbers displayed consisted of the same numbers Jisung had said. 205.

“What happened here?” you asked curiously seeing nothing suspicious.

“Just watch.” 

Suddenly a boy was being dragged out by a much taller and buffer one, with a frantic girl trailing behind.

They didn’t look like the other kids you had seen. They didn’t look like you either.

“Please stop! Chris, you’re drunk! Jisung didn’t do anything!” the girl yelled as the boy started punching the smaller.

“Shut up Y/N! He’s such a fucking annoying prick! His loud ass mouth fucking kills me!” he shouted, punching him more and more.

You felt the boy beside you tense up.

“Chris stop!” 

You watched as the girl and boy made eye contact. It was almost like a scene out of a kdrama.

He sent her a sad smile before the older through him to the ground, his head hitting the brick walkway harshly.

“Jisung!” The girl let out a chilling scream.

Before the boy named Chris could throw one more punch at the already passed boy, the girl got in the way, handling the punch herself.

She fell limp onto who you assumed to be her best friend.

“Fuck.” you heard the boy say as he stared down at the two bodies in front of him.

“Holy fuck.”

“I died on impact when my head hit the walkway. The punch was so hard that you were put into a coma. You had been stabilized and everything was going good but after two months, you had just suddenly flatlined and died.” Jisung said, glancing at you.

Suddenly you were hit with another sharp pain in your head.

You could see two preteens hanging out at the movies, the girl hiding from the jumpscares as the boy laughed. You then saw flashing lights as blue and red lasers were being shot at each other with smiles. You saw it snowing as a girl and boy had a snowball fight with happiness gracing the atmosphere.

Shooting up, you let out another gasp.

“There’s no way. My dad always said reincarnation was fake. I don’t understand.” you said more to yourself but Jisung laughed at you.

“Just believe.”

That line. It sounded too familiar.

“How can I even trust you?” you asked him and he just smiled.

“Again we meet, yet barely still teens. 2018, take me back to 11:43.”

You found yourself back in the comfort of your own apartment. Everything was in color again.

“Follow me. I’ll prove it to you,” he said, pulling you off the couch and walking towards your bathroom.

How did he know where he was going?

He opened your jewelry box and pulled out a ring.

It was the ring you had found on your desk one day. You hadn’t thought much of it and had just thought your mom got it for you.

He let go of your hand and suddenly you felt empty without his warmth.

Pulling off his necklace, he unclasped the hooks to let the ring slide off and into his palm.

He handed you the object and smiled.

“What does it say?” he urged you to read it.

You squinted at the small engraving on the ring he handed to you.

“It says ‘Y/N and’ but that’s it?” you questioned, looking back at him with curious eyes.

He picked up the ring he had gotten from your jewelry box and held it in front of you.

“This is yours right?” he asked and you nodded slowly. “And that’s mine right?” he asked while nudging his head at the ring in your hand. You again nodded.

“Well your ring says ‘Jisung forever’,” he said, his lips thinning while looking at you, waiting for you to pin the pieces together.

“Wait, Y/N and Jisung forever?” you questioned, causing him to smile.

“Bingo!” he yelled but you were still confused.

“Here let me put it on you,” he said and took your left hand, sliding the ring on your ring finger and out of his grasp.

“Now put that ring on my finger,”  he explained, and so you complied.

“You slid the ring onto his finger and suddenly a spark erupted between the two of you.

When the spark disappeared, you made eye contact with him. A wave of memories from your past lives hit you.

You remembered. You remembered it all.

You remember meeting him at the carnival in your first life.

You remember meeting him at school in your second life.

You remember meeting him at the door just minutes ago.

“Then why were you in my dreams?” you questioned, looking up at the boy who suddenly felt like home to you.

“It happens in each life we restart. It’s a way for you to at least have an idea of who I am and trust me more than you would if we were complete strangers.” he reasoned.

“How come It’s me who didn’t know you? Why do you know me?” you asked him.

“It’s because I have the necklace on me. The rings say ‘Y/N and Jisung forever’ which means we have access to all our memories from each life as long as we wear it. Since you never wore yours, you couldn’t access the memories.” he again explained.

“I’m sorry for never wea-”

“It’s okay, don’t worry. You never liked wearing jewelry,” he reassured you.

You smiled lovingly up at the boy in front of you, him smiling back.

You inched closer to each other and soon enough, the space between you was no longer there.

His lips melted against yours as his and yours seemed to fit perfectly together. His tasted like strawberries while yours tasted like cinnamon, a lovely mixture erupting.

Both your cheeks lit red, as he pulled you closer while you played with the hairs on his neck.

Releasing for air, you rested your head in the crook of his neck.

He pulled you close, bringing you into his embrace.

“If wearing this ring means I’ll always remember who we were and who we are, I’d love to wear jewelry for the rest of my life,” you mumbled softly with a smile.

“You’re so cheesy,” Jisung mumbled back, his breath hitting your neck.

“Can I stay with you forever in this lifetime, and forever in the rest?” you asked him, moving your head to look up at him.

He smiled down at you, brushing a few stray hairs behind your ear.

“You can do anything you want as long as you believe darling.”