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soulmate-game · 4 years

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Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Day 1: Meeting for the first time

Not my best work, but decent. I hope you enjoy!

—*—*—*—*—*

Mari was intelligent. That much could not be disputed— and despite her dislike for the sciences in general, she was fully capable of comprehending them when she wanted to. She just usually didn’t care enough to try. But genetics? That was kinda cool. So, when she was ten years old and they began their short unit on it, she was obsessed. And by obsessed, she dove in head first. Like, the fact that her eye color didn’t match either of her parents or grandparents. How could she have blue eyes when none of them did? She delved in deeper and deeper until she uncovered a truth her parents hadn’t wanted her to figure out quite so soon.

She was adopted.

Mari never told her parents about her discovery, the epiphany only managing to sate her curiosity. Who needed blood relation when her parents loved her like real ones anyway? But as the years passed and certain life changes came up, she couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the mystery of where her DNA came from. The heroism thing had to have some root in genetics, right? Okay, so maybe she was just looking for someone to be mad at besides Master Fu. But still, could she be blamed?

So, when Marinette was thirteen years old, she traced her DNA back to her biological parents. And for a while, that was it. She had once again sated her curiosity. She didn’t need anything else. Her mother was dead, and she doubted her biological father knew a thing about her. So Marinette forgot about her discovery, or at least let it sink into the recesses of her brain. And there it stayed, until she was eighteen.

—* — * — * — * — *

It had to be one of the most accidentally dramatic days possible. Top floor of Wayne Enterprises, in one of Bruce’s massive conference rooms with every member of his large family in attendance. Even Kori and Mar’i were there, and Jason’s boyfriend Roy. Everyone was getting fairly restless, considering that Bruce had only informed a few of them (Read: just Dick, who was vibrating in his seat and not soothing anyone’s nerves) about what they were even all called in for. In their civilian identities, no less. It was very odd. Damian, not least of all, was sitting beside Bruce with his jaw clenched but eyes scanning the room in curiosity. He had come a long way from the surly ten year old, and he hadn’t even killed anyone in four years. He had well and truly become a Bat, and with that progress came the lessening of his old temper and brattiness.

Make note: lessening. Not erasure.

It wasn’t long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes of Bruce checking his phone and grinning secretively without answering anyone’s questions, before a businesslike tap-tap-tap sounded on the door to the conference room. Immediately, everything went silent. Kori, Tim, and Jason stopped trying to get Dick to say anything intelligible and went instead to just keeping the man in his seat at all. Bruce let out a rare, soft chuckle before raising his coffee mug to his lips. He called out:

“Come on in, miss MDC. We’re ready for our meeting,” before taking a long sip.

And as soon as the door opened all the way, admitting a short woman of asian descent with navy black hair brushing the bottom of her shoulder blades and piercing (familiar. Too familiar) deep blue eyes, he promptly choked. Trying his damndest not to get coffee everywhere, Bruce devolved into a coughing fit even as his eyes continued to flitter up to the figure just admitted into the room. The woman pretended not to notice his suffering, closing the door behind her and walking forward towards the side of the rectangular-set-up ring of tables that was closest to her and also unoccupied. She plopped a heavy bag down onto the table, reaching in and pulling out a large red and white polka-dotted journal from within, along with a black pen. But despite her businesslike movements and her silence, nobody missed the way that her far too familiar stunningly blue eyes twinkled in suppressed mirth. She didn’t seem surprised at all.

That was the last time Bruce was ever gonna let Tim do someone’s background check on his own. He should have at least looked at the file Tim had made, but of course not. Tim was capable, he trusted the boy with half of their entire family’s company. One background check on one highly reputable designer? Of course he could trust Tim.

Except apparently not. This is what Bruce got for keeping secrets.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Bruce spoke once he got a handle of himself, pushing back his chair almost hurriedly and standing. Damian followed suit, laser focused on his father along with everyone else who knew just how out of character the older man was being just then. It was hard to fluster Bruce at all those days, let alone make him choke and hurry to stand. “I— Welcome to WE. I’m—“ Bruce was cut off by a soft chuckle.

“Bruce Wayne, my biological father and employer for the next few weeks. I know,” Marinette interrupted, sending a sly smile his way. “I had a feeling somebody didn’t actually tell you my name. I was planning on coming to Gotham later this year after I graduated Lycee and demanding to get to know you, but it looks like you did the hard work for me without even knowing. But,” her smile widened in good humor as she walked up closer to Bruce, holding her hand out for a shake. “I do have to say, now that I’ve seen you in person I feel a bit cheated. With how tall you are, you’d think I would have inherited at least a couple more inches.”

“Excuse me? Who do you think you are, claiming to be a Wayne?” Damian asked, tone sharp and his emerald eyes glaring straight towards her. Bruce just took Marinette’s hand, shaking it gently from surprise, but his foot gently kicked his son in the ankle.

“Damian,” Bruce said simply, the single name laced with warning as it came out of his mouth. He turned his attention back to the girl in front of him. “It is nice to finally meet you in person, Marinette. I admit, I did not know of our relation until a few years ago, and I wasn’t in the right mindset back then to welcome another child. Besides, I had it on good authority that your adoptive parents are more than wonderful to you.”

Marinette shrugged. “I don’t mind. I didn’t look into who my biological father was until I was thirteen, anyway. I don’t think things would have ended well if you had just shown up in Paris one day asking to be involved in my life. Enough of that though,” Marinette turned to the sixteen year old by Bruce’s side now stiffened and wide-mouthed. His entire expression, subdued as it was, still managed to clearly telegraph betrayal. And then those eyes locked on Marinettes, and the emerald simmered into something much more vile and acidic. Marinette was not perturbed, merely giving the younger boy a smile and holding out her hand for a shake.

“You must be my half-brother, Damian. I expected someone carved out of stone, with how the tabloids paint you as unfeeling and cold,” she joked. Damian glared harder. She raised an eyebrow. “You seem pretty heated and angry, like a hissing cat, to me. And by the way, I never claimed to be a Wayne. My last name is Dupain-Cheng, and I don’t plan on changing it anytime soon. Having the same blood relation as you does not mean I plan to throw away the name given to me by the ones who actually raised me. But, it does mean that I will get to know you one way or another. I’m not easy to get rid of, and I’ve always wanted a sibling or two.”

That was when the room couldn’t hold it any more; everyone bar the three in the center of the room burst out laughing. It wasn’t too raucous, confusion dampening the hysteria that usually would have taken over, but there was a good round of chuckles and laughter. When it settled down, Damian’s shoulders had slightly relaxed but he still hadn’t taken Marinette’s hand. Instead, he turned to his father again.

“Explain.” He demanded. Bruce sighed, his gaze connecting with Marinette’s own identical one. He searched her for any hesitation, but only got a flash of a bright smile in return. Bruce straightened his shoulders, clasping his hands behind his back and turning to face Damian and the rest of the room.

“I found out about Marinette shortly after Damian was… introduced to the family,” Bruce admitted, resisting the urge to glance at Marinette after the hedged mention of how he met Damian. “I decided to scour every resource I had to make sure I couldn’t be surprised by another biological child. And, lo and behold, I found out that I was right to do so. Her biological mother passed away in childbirth however, so she was adopted by a couple in Paris. I did not see any need to contact her at the time. A friend of mine did happen to be in Paris back then though, and hung around to make sure Marinette was being treated well before leaving again.”

“You sent a friend of yours to spy on me?” Marinette asked, but she just sounded thoroughly amused. “Geez. Now I know where I get it from. When I was thirteen, I had a bit of a bad habit of spying on my friends when I was worried instead of confronting them head on. It took a while to grow out of, and even now I can easily slip back into the habit if I’m not careful. But, as great as this reunion is, it isn’t what I’m being paid to be here for,” Her grin turned downright wicked as she snapped open her sketchbook and clicked her pen.

“I am MDC, the owner and CEO of the up and rising fashion label Spotted Designs, where every look will turn heads and ensure confidence. Monsieur Wayne,” her grin turned into a sly smirk when she said his name, which visibly made Bruce twitch. “Has hired me today to design all of you a new outfit for his gala in four months time, as well as a casual outfit of your own choosing should you want one. Before I get started, I would like to ask you to please sign your NDAs, which my assistant and best friend will bring in for you in a few minutes, before we conclude this meeting. I go by an alias for a reason, I value my privacy, and I would prefer it if word did not get out about my being MDC just yet. Being CEO of a business I started from scratch when I’m only eighteen right now will garner attention that I am not patient enough to deal with right now.”

The silence was near palpable until Jason huffed in amusement and remarked: “Yup. I can see the resemblance.”

“Resemblance?” Duke asked, leaning forward with an incredulous look on his face. “It’s like seeing a tiny, genderswapped, innocent copy of Damian. Is anyone else terrified right now?”

“Tt,” Damian tutted, letting a heavy breath out through his nose before shoving his hand forward. He didn’t look pleased, but neither did he look venomous or betrayed anymore. “Miss Dupain-Cheng. I am Damian Wayne, and I look forward to working with you.” He greeted as if the past few minutes hadn’t happened at all. Marinette beamed, letting out a short belt of delighted laughter before clasping his hand firmly with hers.

“My competence always wins people over,” she teased.

“Only if they don’t see you trip over empty air first,” a new voice joined in, lightly joining the teasing. It belonged to a tall, blond haired green eyed man that looked about the same age as Marinette herself. He came carrying a large two-foot stack of papers as easily as if he was only carrying one sheet. Closing the door behind him with his foot, he went around the large square of tables distributing NDAs to everyone who hadn’t already signed one. “Mari’s the clumsiest person I’ve ever seen, but I’ve also seen her hand sew a double sided ball gown with a layer of knife-resistant fabric in less than thirty hours and still threaten anyone to come near with a needle to the eye, so I’ve learned to just not take anything about her at face value anymore.”

“Oh shut up,” Marinette snapped back cheerfully, rolling her eyes. “This is my best friend, assistant, and business partner Adrien Agreste.”

“I deal with all the paperwork and spotlight that she doesn’t want to handle,” he agreed, nearly blinding everyone with his beaming smile. “Now. Please sign these NDAs, and you can experience Marinette’s skill firsthand.”

After papers were signed and Adrien left, Bruce tried to start another conversation with Marinette.

“So, when did you find out—“

“I’m going to start with taking all of your measurements, if you don’t mind. You first, Monsieur Wayne.”

Bruce blinked, not used to being interrupted. “Ah. We can do this tomorrow, I wasn’t expecting—“

“That’s not my fault, Monsieur Wayne. I came here knowing exactly who I was going to deal with, and you want me to make a quite frankly horrifying amount of clothing in a very short amount of time. Any designer lesser than me would be completely incapable of meeting your deadline. I plan on sticking to my schedule, which means that we are going to get everyone’s measurements and a baseline of the kind of designs you all want done today before the end of our scheduled appointment.”

“Marinette, I would really like to talk about—“

“Arms out. And take your suit jacket off, I can’t get an accurate measurement with it,” she once again interrupted, businesslike and efficient as she took her measuring tape and lined it up against various parts of his body, jotting down the results. She didn’t entertain any of his attempts at conversation in the meantime, instead using the dead time to grill Damian on what he wanted for his suit design.

And, like a partnership that never should have existed, Damian merely smirked and played along with her game. He answered her questions thoroughly but precisely, never allowing their father a chance to make actual conversation. Next thing the poor eldest Wayne knew, Marinette had already taken everyone’s measurements and almost an hour had passed. No less than ten pages of her notebook were already filled with neat lines of notes and numbers.

“You really take this whole thing seriously, don’t you?” Tim asked, in the middle of describing his ideal suit to Marinette. She hummed, grinning up at him mysteriously. As if she was in on a joke he hadn’t heard.

“Designing is my life, Monsieur Drake. This company is something I’ve been building from the ground up since I was thirteen, I’ve made my own clothes since I was ten. Of course I take it seriously. Now. I believe that is everything I need,” she stood up, asking a few last second questions as she gathered up her things. Seeing his chance, Brucie walked her to the door.

“Really, Marinette, I would like to talk to you more. Would you like to come to the Manor tonight, for dinner maybe?”

Marinette smirked, opening the door before Bruce could and turning her head to say over her shoulder: “Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow. Do me a favor though, and try not to get too injured on patrol. I need you all in good enough shape to stand while I do your initial fittings later this week. Gotham might need it’s vigilantes, but you will all regret it if you break a bone before I can fit my prototypes to you.”

Nobody was able to say a word before she closed the door behind her and continued briskly to the elevator. Bruce stood, dumbfounded. Tim, Jason, and Dick, after a moment, started cackling.

“Oh yeah. That’s Damian’s sister.”

“Tt. At least this proves it.”

Bruce, suddenly very exhausted, turned to his son while rubbing his forehead. “Proves what, Damian?”

His trademark razor sharp smirk overtook his face as Damian replied: “Your blood children really are much more competent and effective than the strays you took in.”

“Hey!”

—*—*—*—*—*

“You didn’t have a full conversation?” Adrien guessed, looking exactly like the cat who caught the canary. Marinette had her head in her hands, her entire face red.

“I didn't know how to have an actual conversation with them, Adrien! You should have seen it, Monsieur Wayne—“

“You can just say your father, you know.”

“—Wanted to talk about feelings. Emotions! Gooey, family stuff and probably sentimental things. In front of so many people, too. I panicked!”

“You panicked and went full Business Empress mode,” Adrien agreed, patting her back in both comfort and condescension. “It’s okay. You at least agreed to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuck, I diiiiiid. Quick, let’s come up with a way to fake my kidnapping.”

“No.”

“Damn.”

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #b!dbwm2020 #Bio dad bruce wayne #B!dbwm #platonic brucinette #No romantic pairing #Day One #Platonic Daminette

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sassycassie-s-writing · 3 years

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Under the Moon

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Avengers - Peter Parker/Spider-Man

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: I’ve been in a mood recently.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I actually put forth a decent effort this time to make it as gender-neutral as possible. It’s probably not perfect but I tried.

^^^^^

A twinge in the muscles of my back jarred me from my sleep.

$#!+ did I forget again? I thought. Another spasm arched me off my mat. I fumbled through my bag for my phone. No service. Of course not. With shaking fingers, somehow I managed to unlock it. Moon Tracker was waiting for me on my home page. It launched and actually loaded, despite the lack of service.

Tonight’s Moon: Full read the screen.

I swore aloud. MJ didn’t wake.

Scrambling out of the tent, I stumbled through the dark to the tent next to ours. “Peter!” I hissed, knocking a knuckle against the tent pole. “Pete!”

I heard a groan. “What?” Peter complained.

“I need your help. I need you to come with me. Now.”

The tent he shared with Ned zipped open. Ned was curled up in a corner and clearly Peter had been sprawled out. Peter slipped out, barely managing to get into his sneakers, and zipped the tent shut behind him. “What’s goin’ on?” He yawned.

I recoiled as pain wracked through me. “We need to get away from camp—and I need you to web me to a tree,” I replied.

“What?”

“Now!”

My tone scared him into movement. He grabbed my hand and we ran from the campsite. I stumbled more than anything. My control over my own body was slipping. I moaned in pain. Peter looked back at me.

“What’s happening to your eyes?”

“No time to explain. Keep moving,” I panted.

We blindly wove through the woods until we were over a mile away. I found a sturdy tree and backed against it.

“Web me here,” I said. “Just cover me.”

“Why?”

I looked up. The moon was starting to peek above the hills, casting its light through the woods. “Just do it!” I cried out—stifling the sound as much as I could—and slammed into the tree. “Now!”

Peter’s webshooters activated and he spewed webs at me. I gave him a small smile.

Then I thrashed in pain—

And everything went black.

—

Peter stared as his friend’s body began to change. Claws broke through fingers. Fangs replaced teeth. A snout elongated from the face. Thick, brown-and-black hair sprouted. Pajamas started to disappear under the hair.

Until, instead of a human, Peter was staring at a wolf.

An enormous wolf. Easily twice the size of a regular wolf—and he’d found out that wolves were twice as big as he’d thought not too long ago—and covered in grey fur. The beast’s paws were wide and ended in long dark claws sharp enough to tear flesh like cotton candy. Thankfully they were positioned too awkwardly to reach the webs holding it.

“Gah! What the he—” He cut himself off as the wolf snarled at him, writhing against the webs. He applied another layer just to be safe. “Since—since—since when could you do—” The moonlight shone brighter, catching his attention. He peered up.

The moon was a massive disc—full and shining silver-white down against the tree trunk.

The wolf in front of him seemed transfixed by it, staring up with a melancholy whine softly escaping its throat. It tried again to escape the webs, but only half-heartedly.

Peter whooshed out a breath as realization struck him like a blow from the Hulk. “You’re a werewolf,” he whispered.

The wolf whimpered and then growled. Peter stepped back.

“I’m not sleeping tonight, am I?” He asked.

The wolf didn’t reply.

Which was probably a good thing, because if it did he probably would have screamed loud enough to wake up their friends over a mile away—and every big nasty in the forest. And he doubted his werewolf friend would protect him.

The wolf’s amber eyes were watching him suspiciously. But Peter just sat down and yawned again. “You and I have known each other for like ten years now. You’re in on my secret. Why didn’t you ever tell me yours?” He stared at the wolf, who was still seething at being trapped, but not fighting against the webs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Again, the wolf made no reply. Just turned those amber eyes up to the moon. Peter looked up at it too. “Yeah. It’s beautiful. Especially on nights like tonight. When there aren’t any clouds.”

The wolf whined like a puppy—and Peter had to remind himself to not tear off the webs to cuddle into that thick, soft-looking fur. That werewolves probably didn’t have any human memories when they were in their wolf form. He leaned back on his hands. “You’re probably not gonna remember this, so I may as well tell you: I’ve actually had a crush on you since like seventh grade. I know we’ve been friends for longer than that but…” He shrugged. The wolf kept staring at the moon. “I don’t know. Something changed that year. I saw you in the gym with the ballroom dance club, teaching some poor dude how to waltz when I stayed late for robotics, and it was like this… like a lightbulb went off in my head. You know? Suddenly it was like I was really seeing you for the first time. Like I caught a glimpse of the best pieces of your soul.

“And I’ve never been the same since. Never looked at you the same way. I notice the grace you use when you move. Even if you’re clumsy sometimes. But I see your compassion too. Your care. Like once I started looking, I couldn’t stop.”

The wolf didn’t even react to him at all.

Peter sighed. “I’ll keep an eye on you tonight. I promise. You won’t be able to get out or hurt anything. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

—

I came to under the pale orange light of dawn. The last dregs of dissolving web fluid clung to my pajamas. I felt drained. Like I always did the morning after a full moon.

“Hey, you’re up!” Peter said happily. I turned. He was sitting on the forest floor a few feet away, using a Bunsen burner camping “stove” to heat a small pot of water. Two paper cups were sitting near him, plastic spoons poking out of the top. I slumped against the tree trunk. “I’m making some cocoa. Want some?”

I watched him pour the water in the cups, adding packets of cocoa mix and stirring carefully. I didn’t have the energy to actually reply.

He handed me one of the cups. “This should warm you up. It’s a little chilly.”

“Did you get any sleep?” I croaked.

“I did, actually. See, the thing is, my webs dissolve in two hours. On average, it takes fourteen minutes for a person to fall asleep, and a single sleep cycle is ninety minutes—hour and a half. So I used my webshooters to set timers. An almost-two-hour one to know when to replace the webs around you, and another to wake me up roughly an hour and forty-four minutes after I set it. So I slept between replacing your webs and I actually feel alright. Probably better than you anyway.”

I grunted agreement at that. I felt like I’d been trampled by a herd of elephants.

I tried a sip of the cocoa. Not too hot, but enough to warm my core. I sighed, content with the taste and warmth.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Peter asked quietly. I met his eyes. He had the expression of a sad puppy on his face.

I huffed a little, stirring my cocoa. “My secret isn’t like yours, Peter,” I said. “You keep your secret to keep the people you care about safe. I do too, but mine—mine is different. You’re keeping the people you love safe from villains who want to hurt you by hurting them. I’m keeping the people I care about safe from me. Because I’m… we’re classified as monsters, Peter. Werewolves, vampires—we’re referred to as monsters the same way humans are mammals. I never told you because what I can do… it’s worse than what you can do. You’re a superhero. I’m a lycanthrope. Yours is a mutation of your DNA. Mine is literally a curse. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you looking at me like I’m…”

“A monster?” Peter finished gently.

I almost growled at the word. “Yeah,” I admitted begrudgingly, taking a sip of my cocoa. “You have no idea how hard it is for someone like me to make or keep friends. I’ve spent most of my life super lonely. Then I met you and Ned and MJ and I felt like… like finally I could have some friends. I was turned into a werewolf when I was four-years-old, Peter. Thirteen years, I’ve suffered with this alone. My parents know but they don’t talk about it. They pretend like my curse doesn’t exist. Then I make friends for the first time in my life and still know, deep down, that I’ll never belong with them. Not really. Even when you told me about you, I knew I still wasn’t like you. I never would be. So I hoped I could just be friends as long as I could with you guys and… find a way to live with it when you all eventually left me.”

I downed the rest of my cup and stood. My joints ached.

“We should go back to camp before Ned and MJ wonder where we’ve gone,” I said.

Not waiting for Peter, I headed back the way we’d come, following my own scent through the trees, several hours old now, but doubly punctuated by Peter’s as he’d gone back to get the burner and the cocoa.

He caught up to me, jogging a little. “For the record, even though you scared the pants off of me last night when I saw you turn, I don’t think you’re a monster,” he said.

I managed a small smile. “Thanks,” I replied.

“And, also, I’m not going to leave you. You’re still my friend and I’m not scared. I can lift… like, a hundred times more than my body weight. I think I can handle you as a wolf. You’re not gonna hurt me and I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s… that’s a relief to hear,” I admitted. We kept hiking back. “Do I remember you saying you’ve had a crush on me since we were in seventh grade? Or did I dream that up?”

Peter swore under his breath. A normal person wouldn’t have heard it, but I did. Wolf’s hearing. “Uh… I think you dreamt that up,” he said.

Liar. But if he wasn’t ready to tell me human-face-to-human-face, I’d give him time. He’d taken my secret better than I could have asked for or anticipated. I could let him admit his feelings whenever he was ready. I owed him that much.

When we got back to camp, MJ was sitting on a tree stump, munching on some dry cereal. “Where have you two been all night?” she asked.

#Under the Moon #Spider-Man #spider-man imagine #spider-man fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman imagine #Spider Man #Spider Man Imagine #spider man fanfiction #Peter Parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #Avengers #avengers imagine #avengers fanfiction #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction

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iron-fam · 5 years

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Dinner with the Avengers

A prompt that was an ask from @just-the-daydreamer

Tumblr screwed up (more like I screwed up but I'm blaming tumblr) and deleted their ask. I kinda remember what it was though lmao. Anyways, thank you for the prompt and for the nice compliments to my writing!

Prompt: Peter meeting all of the Avengers and Tony having big dad energy.

_________________________________

Focus. Just- fucking focus.

Don't be dumb.

Don't be cringey.

Don't talk too much.

Don't ask any stupid questions.

Don't be yourself.

"No one wants that."

Peter Parker is currently in an elevator with Happy Hogan, freaking the fuck out.

He's on his way to have a nice lovely dinner at Avengers Tower.

It sounds so easy when you say it like that. Peter's had dinner with Tony, Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey at the tower plenty of times.

This time's different.

The whole Avengers team is having dinner at the tower tonight. Everyone. This will be the first time the entire gang has been together since before the whole Sokovia Accords bullshit.

Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes, Thor, Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson, Colonel Rhodes, and even Vision and Scott Lang are attending.

Weeks ago, Tony and Peter agreed that it was fine to reveal his identity to the Avengers.

But now the day was finally here, and Peter couldn't seem to breathe.

Happy sighs, "Relax," he sounds irritated, but he tries to offer some sound advice. "Don't worry about anything. These are the weirdest freaks you'll ever meet in your life. You're gonna fit right in."

He gives Peter's shoulder a light punch. Peter would almost appreciate the gesture if his heart wasn't trying to crawl it's way up his throat.

The elevator dings, indicating that the destination has been reached.

The doors slide open, and Peter is greeted by two smiling faces.

"There he is!" Tony bellows, a bright grin on his face. "Just the man I was talking about."

He claps Peter on the shoulder as he exits the elevator.

Next to Tony, stands a plain looking man with glasses and a lilac button up shirt.

"You're, uh," Peter swallows. "Bruce Banner, right?"

The scientist smiles. "Sure am. Tony said you'd recognize me."

"W-well yeah," Peter shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at the floor. "I did a couple papers a few years back. They were, uh, heavily influenced by your work in astronuclear physics. Really interesting stuff."

"Wow, that's pretty c-"

The genius is cut off by a thunderous laugh erupting from an approaching figure.

"Stark! Is this the Spiderman you've been speaking of?" The man asks.

Peter is in awe. He focuses on keeping his mouth closed and not looking like a total idiot.

"Sure is, Thor! This here's our newest Avenger." Tony gently punches Pete's shoulder, similar to how Happy had done in the elevator.

"How magnificent!" The god stares Peter down, judging him. "He's quite small, is he not? For a human?" The warm smile never leaves his face.

"He's only sixteen," Tony chuckles.

"And taller than you, Mr. Stark," Peter mumbles under his breath. Bruce smiles.

Tony's head snaps to Peter, "What was that, pipsqueak?" Thor breaks into another thunderous cackle. "Go sit down, squirt. Most of the others are already in the dining room. I'll be in in just a minute."

Peter is anxious to go in without Tony, but he doesn't protest. As he walks, he is aware of Thor's heavy footsteps not far behind him, matching up with the heavy pound of the boy's heartbeat.

Peter can already hear each distinct voice in the dining room around the corner. He can hear drinks being poured, voices laughing, hearts beating, and even a fly buzzing close to the ceiling.

The moment Peter turns the corner to the dining area, silence washes over the room. Eleven pairs of eyes are staring at him, and he feels like fainting.

Pepper stands up from her seat next to Natasha. "Hello, Peter!" Her smile is so warm and genuine, it could melt the arctic. "Everyone's been wanting to meet you. Here, have a seat."

She gestures to an empty seat on the other side of her.

Peter happily strides over, relieved to be dining next to someone he knows and is comfortable around. Now he can only hope that Tony sits in the empty seat on his other side.

Natasha leans forward, staring at the teenager with cold eyes. "Hello, Peter." She doesn't smile.

"Hello," Peter's voice quivers slightly.

To Peter's relief, Tony interrupts. "Don't scare him, he's very fragile." The billionaire winks discreetly at Pete and leisurely strolls to the empty chair next to him. Oh, thank God!

"Fragile?" Clint scoffs. "I heard that kid can throw a schoolbus like a baseball."

"Impressive," Wanda Maximoff breathes, her face hidden by a mug of coffee.

Scott Lang laughs, "That's nothing! I can lift a car while being an inch tall!"

Nat rolls her eyes, "Like hell you can."

"You can barely move a thumbtack, tic-tac." Sam Wilson retorts.

"That was some straight bars, birdbrain!" Scott barks.

"Shut up, Lang."

Tony has to intervene before things get to crazy. "Let's be nice, there are young ears present."

"Since when did you become his dad?" Clint smirks. Peter's can feel his face heating up. God, I never should have come. This is so embarrassing.

Steve is ready to change the subject, and he speaks to Peter for the first time since Germany.

"So, Peter. How long have you been 'Spiderman?' I've read a lot about you in the papers. New York seems to appreciate having you around."

"Who still reads 'the papers?'" Clint mutters under his breath, laughing. Wanda elbows him.

Peter is suddenly aware of all the eyes on him; all the ears awaiting his answer to Steve's question.

"Um," he pauses for a while. "I, uh, got my powers when I was thirteen. I didn't start using them to help people until a few months later when I was fourteen. That was about two years ago."

Wanda tilts her head to the side. Her intrigued gaze sears into the boy. Peter can feel his blood running cold. He is abruptly struck with a paranoid thought- can she read my mind?

The curiosity in Wanda's eyes doesn't waver. She asks him, "How did you get your powers?"

Peter breaks eye contact with Wanda, timidly leaning back into his chair.

"I was bitten by a radioactive spider. It mutated my DNA, and I developed traits that a spider would have."

"Fascinating," Bruce whispers, bewildered.

"Can you lay eggs?" Scott asks, mouth hanging wide open. "Can you summon an army of spiders? Can you turn into a spider?"

"No, no, and no." Peter answers.

"Lame,"

Tony glares at Scott. If looks could kill, then Lang would be nothing but a pile of ash.

"I'm kidding," Scott quickly takes back his comment. "I've seen you throw webs though. That's pretty cool."

"Not as cool as you growing sixty feet tall." Peter replies, gaining a small drop of confidence.

"Ha! I keep forgetting you were there in Germany."

"Y'know, I try to forget Germany, too." Peter says.

"Don't we all," Rhodey mumbles through a bite of food.

Steve's eyes are stuck on a fixed point on his plate. "I can't believe I dropped ten tons of steel on a fifteen year old."

Peter laughs. "Don't be, it was a good workout. And actually, I was fourteen."

A small wave of laughter washes over the group, and Peter feels proud for a moment or two. Like he belongs.

"What the hell were you thinking, Stark..." Bucky quietly says. It's the first thing he's said all evening. Peter had almost forgotten he was there. "You brought a fourteen year old kid to Berlin."

Tony cringes, "I know, I know. Not my best move."

Pepper puts her hand on Tony's shoulder. "Yes, well it definitely wasn't your worst move either."

Bruce nearly chokes on his food, thinking about Ultron.

The group collectively gasps and then laughs.

After a few peaceful moments, Tony rises to his feet. He picks up his champagne glass.

"Well, I propose a toast. To our newest Avenger."

Everyone picks up their glasses, and raises them.

"Uh, Mr. Stark." Peter smiles. "I didn't get any champagne."

That gets a few chuckles.

"Yeah," Tony nods. "I tried, squirt, but Pepper said it would be irresponsible." He rolls his eyes and gestures to the blonde.

Pepper doesn't protest. She simply sips her champagne and mumbles "Yes, it would be irresponsible."

"Welcome to the team, Peter." Natasha says, the corners of her mouth slightly turning up.

"Welcome to the team," the others mutter in unison.

Tony claps his hand down on Peter' shoulder, almost showing him off like a proud dad.

Peter smiles.

These people aren't half bad.

256 notes · View notes

nowplayingblog-main · 5 years

Link

Chapter 2 is finally here!

read under the cut

...”C’mon kid, just a few more steps”...

...”I know, I know it’s too hot”...

...”Shhh... I know it hurts, I know”...

...”You’re gonna be alright, Peter, It’ll be okay”...

Peter’s eyes snapped open to the blinding lights of a white room. He felt his face scrunch underneath a plastic mask placed over his nose and mouth, blowing soothingly cold air across his face. His eyes had squeezed shut in an effort to shield him from the harmful light above his eyes.

“Can we have the lights dimmed, please?” a feminine voice called out.

The orange glow behind his eyelids dimmed, and Peter braved blinking a little, to let his eyes adjust to the room. It was blurry at first, and while the darkness soothed his eyes, it made it hard to see the room. Then, slowly, everything came into focus, and Peter eyes settled on the woman who was sitting at his bedside.

She was clearly a doctor of some form. She wore a long white lab coat over a pale pink scrubs, and a stethoscope around her neck. Her skin was a few shades darker than his, and she had long, medium brown, wavy hair. Peter remembered all those medical dramas his mom watched before their trip to Afghanistan; this lady would have fit right into the cast.

“Hello, Peter,” The woman said. “My name is Dr. Sullivan.”

“Hi,” He responded meekly, his voice weak from lack of use and muffled by the oxygen mask over his mouth.

Dr. Sullivan gave him a small smile. “It’s okay to take that off, if you want. Just don’t leave it off for too long. You should be fine, but I’m not quite willing to risk anything yet.”

The coordination in Peter’s arms was lacking extremely, but eventually his left arm found the mask on his face and pulled it away as gently as possible.

“Where am I?” His voice was just barely above a whisper.

“You’re at Thousand Oaks Surgical Hospital, in Malibu California,” Dr. Sullivan explained. “You and Mr. Stark were found two day ago in the middle of a desert in Afghanistan. You suffered a heat stroke shortly before you were found by the United States Air Force. Not to mention an infection due to your various wounds, including the bullet that was still lodged in your stomach. The surrounding skin healed remarkably fast, most likely due to your altered DNA.”

Peter’s heart rate picked up in fear. His monitor beeped loudly, and blood pulsed in his ears. She knew? She knew.

Dr. Sullivan raised her hands in surrender. “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone. I can’t really. Patient privacy, as well as the fact that Tony Stark himself had me and my entire team sign a non-disclosure agreement. We only know because we need to know, Peter.”

“Why do you need to know?” Peter insisted, his voice cracking. He wasn't exactly sure why he was so defensive about this. He just felt embarrassed, ashamed, almost dirty. Like everything about him now, after what those... those... monsters did to him. He had always felt that way but his emotions were muted under the influence of the drugs they kept him on. Besides, in the cave no one was there to judge him, until Mr. Stark was brought in.

“We need to know so that we know how to take care of you, Peter. You’re enhanced, we need to know that so that we don’t try to treat you like a normal person, because it wouldn’t work the same way with you -”

“I am a normal person!” Peter was almost at the brink of screaming, and, god, his voice sounded awful.

“I know that, Peter,” Dr. Sullivan tried to calm him. “But biologically, you are different, and I don’t want to accidentally hurt you because of that, that’s why we need to know -”

“You don’t! There’s nothing wrong with me! I’m normal! So what if my DNA is different now! I’m still normal! I’m still normal!”

Peter didn’t acknowledge much beyond the screaming. He didn’t notice the doctors filtering into the room as his heart monitors went crazy. He didn’t notice them shouting orders, didn’t even notice the needle filled with an enhanced sedative. All he knew was lab coats. Lab coats meant pain, and god he never wanted pain again. Haven't they done enough? They already changed him forever. Why were the lab coats back to hurt him? Peter was supposed to be safe! He was supposed to be safe! He was supposed to be -

...white lab coats...

...a man with graying hair leans over him...

...he’s being restrained, he can’t move, the drugs altering his sense of reality...

...“- the world is not ready for him-”...

...“Sleep tight, my little pest”...

Peter woke up later that day. The sky was dark outside his window, and his eyes took less time to adjust to his surroundings, the voices of his nightmare echoed in his head.

The oxygen mask was over his nose again, and Peter reached up to pull it down, not realizing he had now caught the attention of Mr. Stark, who was sitting where Dr. Sullivan was earlier that day.

“Hey kid,” He said as a means of greeting.

“Hey,” Peter said plainly.

“Heard you had a little freak out earlier.”

Peter blinked. “I did?”

“Dr. Sullivan said it was a panic attack. You were breathing too fast, and you kept yelling at the staff until you got so worked up they had to sedate you.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter apologized. He remembered now, and he was recalled the look on every panicked doctors face while Peter did nothing but yell and scream. Deep guilt stirred inside his chest.

“Don’t apologize,” Tony said. “She said it was expected, considering everything you’ve gone through in the recent past. I still don’t understand what triggered it though-”

Peter opened his mouth, whether it was to tell Tony what had triggered him, or to refute that he had been triggered at all, Peter himself would never know, because Tony cut him off. “Nevermind. I’m not willing to put you through that again if you got so worked up about it the last time.”

They sat in awkward silence for a moment.

“I held a press conference today,” Tony announced.

“What’s a press conference?” Peter asked innocently.

“It’s a big, boring meeting where I can tell reporters what I want them to hear. Helps me control what information gets out to the public,” Tony gave him a strange look. “How is it that you can help me create a miniaturized ARC reactor, and a mechanized suit of armor in a cave with nothing but scraps, when you’re - how old are you?”

“Thirteen”

“Really? God, I feel old. Anyway, how is it that you can do all that, but you don’t know what a press conference is?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t think press conferences have a whole lot to do with mechanics, Mr. Stark.”

“True,” Tony shrugged. “I guess you and I were just raised in extremely different circumstances. What did you say you’re parents were? Geneticists?”

Peter’s smile, which has been slowly pushing his cheeks upward suddenly fell. He nodded mutely.

Mr. Stark winced. “Sorry, kid. Probably wasn’t a good idea to bring that up.”

They were silent for a while after that. Peter focused on the way the individual threads on his blanket were woven together.

“You’ll be living with me from now on,” Tony said softly. “I promise not to bring it up again if you don’t want me too, but we looked into your family, Pete, and you were right. You don’t have any surviving relatives. But I’m not going to let you slide into that broken government system of tossing poor kids around. Not after everything you and I have gone through, especially after...” Tony trailed off. “After your DNA has been altered so much...” he said carefully, eyeing Peter for a reaction before carrying on. “I just don’t think it’s the best idea, and neither does anybody hear at the hospital, so I signed for temporary guardianship, and you’ll be living with me from now on. So there’s that.”

Peter nodded, not looking up from where he stared at the blanket, playing with the material between his fingers.

“Well, I won’t bore you any longer, is there some kind of movie that you really like? It might help you to take your mind off of everything.” Tony stood up and walked over to a pile of DVD cases, still wrapped in plastic as though they had just been purchased. “I didn’t know what you would like, so I got a little bit of everything.

Tony handed Peter a stack to shift through, until Peter felt his heart lift upon seeing his favorite movie of all time - Star Wars: A New Hope.

“I knew you had to be a bit of nerd,” Tony mused, standing up to insert the DVD.

They didn’t talk for the entire run of the movie, but Tony didn’t leave Peter’s side either, which Peter felt was enough.

Peter was signed out of the hospital the next day.

“Shouldn’t he be here a couple more days?” Tony questioned. When we brought him in a few days ago you insisted that he was in critical condition, and now he’s right as rain?”

Dr. Sullivan shrugged. “His tests came back clear of any infection, and his stats have been within a healthy range for over 24 hours now. He is completely fine to leave. Welcome to taking care of an enhanced.”

Tony tilted his head. “And how do you know so much about enhanced people?”

“I have my sources. Have a good day Mr. Stark.”

And with that, Dr. Sullivan whisked out of the room with a flourish of her lab coat, and disappeared from Peter’s line of vision. Which was fine in Peter’s opinion,. Since his anxiety levels had been through the roof ever since she had stepped in the room.

Peter had begun to notice that when the medical professionals were around, he couldn’t seem to keep himself calm. His palms felt sweaty, and the rate of his breathing began to pick up. If they came too close to him without warning, or if they touched him, Peter would flinch, as though he was expecting to be hurt.

Peter himself found this ridiculous. He knew the doctors weren't there to hurt him, they were there to help him. He had never been afraid of doctors in his life, not before the cave.

He always felt better when Mr. Stark was around, however, though he couldn’t quite explain why. He made him feel safe, even though Peter knew that him even being around Tony made the man feel uncomfortable, at least at first. He guessed it had to do with the fact that Mr. Stark hadn’t ever had to deal with someone Peter’s age. Besides, now that they were free, there wasn’t much that they could talk about. They didn’t have a lot of common ground, at least not any that they knew about, and they didn’t have a common goal or a common enemy anymore. Their relationship had grown while they were in the cave, but to what extent?

To his credit, Tony always did seem to ease up after talking to Peter for a while, and eventually the two did find some common interests.

“Just you wait until we get to the house, kid.” Tony had told them on their ride to his Malibu home. Tony was driving, which Peter found somewhat surprising. “You’ll love the lab. It has so many fun toys. My bots are there, though they’re somewhat antiques at this point - those stupid pieces of scrap metal.”

“Why don’t you just get rid of them?” Peter asked.

Mr. Stark turned to him, with a frown on his face, which quickly melted into a smile. “I couldn’t do that! I love them too much. Just don’t tell them I said that.”

When they arrived at Tony's mansion, Peter was shocked at the sheet size of it. Growing up in New York City, Peter had seen some pretty big buildings. Correction. Some pretty tall buildings. Peter didn't think that Mr. Stark's house was more than three stories, but it stretched across the shore of the Pacific almost endlessly. Peter could wrap his head around why anyone would need a house that was this big.

The inside of the house felt like a maze. After the walked in, Peter found it hard to keep his bearings. Once they moved away from the door, he couldn't tell which way was which, and he had the feeling that if Peter lost Mr. Stark in one of the winding corridors, he could be lost in the house forever.

When they finally reached a room that Peter recognized to be some sort of living room or sitting room, there was a woman with strawberry blonde hair wearing a white blouse and a gray pencil skirt, sitting on the couch, watching something on the television.

“...allow me to introduce you to the new Stark Industries business plan!” The voice on the TV said, followed by the sound of something shattering. “Look, that's a weapons company that doesn't make weapons!”

The woman looked up, noticing them, and shut off the TV with a static click. “Welcome home, Mr. Stark.”

“Hello, Ms. Potts,” Tony said, stepping in front of Peter. “I'll be in my lab for the rest of the day, if you need me.”

“Alright, I'll be sure to come get you. Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

“That'll be all Ms. Potts.”

Then Tony turned and motioned for Peter to follow him. They went downstairs, down a winding, circular staircase, until they reached the bottom floor, which left to a room behind a big, glass wall, with a glowing pin pad by the door.

“I'll take you to see your room in a second, kid, I just thought I would show you the lab first.”

The door opened, and Tony held it open to let Peter in. He walked in and was greeted by an echoing voice.

“Unidentified personnel.” Said a voice seemingly coming from everywhere. Peter jumped at the unexpected noise, looking around for where it may have been coming from.

“Oh, calm down JARVIS,” Tony said, “He’s with me, and he’s going to be around here quite a bit. Log him as Peter...” Mr. Stark turned to look at him. “Parker right? I thought I saw that name of the guardianship forms.”

Peter nodded silently. Tony spent the next half hour showing Peter around the lab, introducing him to his robots, and showing him how to operate certain types of equipment. Mr. Stark rambled on and on, talking about everything under the sun, while Peter remained uncharacteristically quiet, thinking back to what he had heard in the living room.

“You’re a quiet thing today, aren’t you?” Tony remarked. “Haven’t spoken a word since we got to the house. Usually you’re talking a mile a minute.”

Peter turned to look at the man. He stayed silent.

“You got something on your mind?”

Peter took a deep breath. “What... What was Ms. Potts watching? When we came in?”

“One of those broadcasts or TV shows that advises people on where to invest their money.”

“It said you were a weapons company that doesn’t make weapons.”

Tony sighed. “That’s because as of a couple of days ago, Stark Industries announced - or rather, I announced, quite unexpectedly - that we were shutting down our weapons department.”

Peter blinked. “What made you decide to do that?”

“You did,” The mechanic sat down and began fiddling with some sort of circuit board. “You told me in the cave that weapons won’t just stop working when someone I don’t want to have them gets ahold of them. I realized then that I had become part of a broken system,” Tony looked up at him. “I don’t want to make weapons anymore. Stark Industries whole mission is to make the world a better, safer, and more peaceful place. Making weapons isn’t working. We can do better. I just need to figure out what I want to do.”

Peter smiled softly. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Well, I initially wanted to look more into ARC reactor technology,” He tapped on the glowing blue light under his shirt for emphasis. “But Obie shot that down, he’s still married to the idea that we’re only good for making weapons. Then I thought... maybe...” Tony eyed Peter carefully. “Maybe if I couldn’t control who had the guns... I could make sure they were in the rights hands...my own...”

The teen tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Tony pulled up a couple of displays, maneuvering things through the air on his holographic projections, before pulling up an image of a suit of armor. Peter looked at it for a few moments, before he began to recognize certain elements of it. His eyes widened in shock. Yes, Peter definitely recognized this. How could he not? He had helped build this.

“I’m changing up the design a little, trying to change the form to increase the aerodynamics to help it to sustain prolonged flight - kinda similar to the way we’re shaping cars to be able to move faster. The original model was never meant to fly for very long, that’s why it ended up crashing so badly in the desert, I’m trying to figure out how to use less energy to achieve flight, because with our last model it was a bit overkill -”

“Hold on,” Peter cut him off. “You’re building another suit?”

“Well, I was hoping you could help me. You did so well the last time.”

“No, I mean,” Peter sighed, “You’re going to stop making weapons for your company, but you’re going to make an even bigger weapon for yourself.”

“It’s not like that, kid.” Tony got up from where he was sitting a moved to stand beside Peter. “It’s not a weapon. It’s a method of keeping the peace.”

“By having a bigger stick than the other guy?”

Tony paused. “Where did you hear that?”

“I read it in a magazine.”

“In the hospital?”

“I got bored.”

Mr. Stark turned to face him. “Listen, kid. This thing isn’t meant to be a weapon. Or, maybe it is, but I’m going to be the one in the suit. I’m going to make sure no one else gets their hands on this, and I’m only going to go after the people who hurt others. This suit isn’t going to have big guns or cause massive explosions like the first one did.”

Peter was struggling to understand. “So, you want to become a superhero?”

Tony blinked. “What? No.”

“You just said that you wanted to go after the bad guys and protect people.”

“What? Kid, that’s not - Well... I guess maybe it is. Sure, let’s go with that. I’m going to become a superhero.”

Peter smiled. “Well, in that case, I’m in.”

The billionaire chuckled and looked back at his designs for the new suit. “I should have known all I had to say to get you on board was something extremely dorky like ‘I’m going to become a superhero’”

“I just think that you made something that could really help people, or could really hurt people,” Peter explained. “My dad used to tell me about his brother, Ben. He died when my dad was in college, but he used to say ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ It’s super cheesy, but I think it’s the truth. You have a lot of power, Mr. Stark, and you want to use it to help people. That’s something I can get behind.”

Tony smiled at the kid. “You know kid, you’re pretty wise for a thirteen-year-old.”

“Well, I’ve been through a lot.”

“Yeah kid. Too much.”

Later that day, Tony showed Peter his room. It was a bit of a blank slate. A guest room which hadn’t really been converted to become Peter’s room, but Mr. Stark said that he could decorate it however he wanted to.

Now, Peter was laying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The bed felt too soft, like he was laying on marshmallows. He supposed that was because He had gotten used to a beat down mattress on a wire frame, and even after that he had been stuck in a hospital bed, which was a huge improvement, but nowhere near the comfort levels Peter found in this bed.

Ever since waking up after their escape, Peter found it hard to sleep. Before, Peter had been on drugs virtually all the time. Sleeping wasn’t something he had done on his own for quite some time, he always just dozed off after receiving another dose.

His lack of sleep wasn’t the only thing that the drugs did to him. Walking around, and viewing the world was completely different now. Everything was so much more vibrant and vivid than Peter had ever remembered it being. The world was louder, and brighter, and more three-dimensional.

It wasn’t as though Peter wanted the drugs, in fact it kind of surprised him that he didn’t find himself addicted to the substance because of how much he was forced to use it. He suspected the doctors had weaned him off of it while he was still unconscious. It was just that everything felt so different now. Like he was living in a dream. A happy dream that couldn’t possibly be his reality.

There was no way Peter could truly be free. No way he could have been taken in by the infamous Tony Stark. It just wasn't possible.

And yet, here he was. Free at last.

And at some point that night while he stared up at the ceiling, Peter had the most peaceful night of sleep in his life.

#fanfiction #fanfic #my works #fic #irondad #tony stark #peter parker #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #iron man #spiderman #spider-man #tony stark and peter parker #gdkp #guns don't kill people

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univentoremarchived · 5 years

Text

|| This folks, is how you manipulate a naive child~

(verse specific, so apologies if you don’t know the exact context, summary follows)

A closed verse in which supernatural creatures are observed and monitored through the guise of a circus. All performers have an ability that isn’t mundane, such as magic, elements, transformation and so forth. Ayden was revamped into a half-fae in this verse. Born to a fae mother who took him to Tír na Nóg as a baby and raised him until he was thirteen. He was kidnapped by Hyousuke and taken to Cirque de Nuit and became a Child of the Night (performer) ever since.

The rules were simple. You do as you are told. That is the first thing a Child of the Night is told and all they will hear the years that follow. If you don’t listen, or neglect your duties, then the so called Redheads will punish you. Whether it was a coincidence both ‘leaders’ of the circus had red hair was unknown to Ayden. Hyousuke, one of the two and who was the recruiter of the circus, has been here for ages (literally), while the other redhead, Efrain has been here a bit longer than Ayden.

Ayden was twenty years old in human years by now. He was barely conscious of his age as he was still treated like a kid by most immortals around this place. After all, compared to someone who has been alive for literal ages, he really was just that, a child.

After having been summoned by Efrain, Ayden made his way to the scientist’s camper, knocked on the door and waited until he received the usual ‘Yes, yes, come in,’ before actually entering. The inside of the camper looked nothing like the outside, for it was not at all a usual camper. Inside it was filled with high tech, screens, doors locked with a code system, tools used for means Ayden would rather not think about (similar to the tools used for surgery) and pots that contained body parts of different kinds of species. It wasn’t a pleasant place for more reasons than one. For Ayden, the biggest reason was the lack of simple nature. There was none of it present. He bet if he put a plant in here it would die within the day or Efrain would find new ways to clone the plant, evolve it or whatever.

Science was ruining Earth, Ayden had been told over and over again by his mother.

“You wanted to speak to me?” he asked hesitantly, a cold spot forming in the pit of his stomach. Efrain was looking at a screen, filled with numbers. It seemed the scientist was reading them as if it was a language of its own, muttering thoughts while continuously noting down even more numbers. Ayden had no idea what he was doing.

With a sideways glance, Efrain looked at Ayden, then pointed at the chair next to him. Ayden did as told and sat down, still wondering what it was Efrain wanted to speak about. After all, it was usually Hyou he answered to, not the scientist.

“How is your new job coming along?”

Ayden tilted his head, then remembered what he meant. “O-Oh, the administration for the campers and tents.. Yes, well, it’s not difficult.. Haven’t heard any complaints either..”

“Good. You’ve proven your loyalty many times over and it made me wonder if you would be interested in having more.. responsibilities in this camp. After all, you’re a clever boy and are designed for more than simple knife throwing in the circus.”

“I see..”

Efrain frowned at him. “You see..?”

“I mean, yes, that would be great.. but what?”

At that, a hum escaped the scientist, looking up at the roof for a moment before returning his attention to the fae boy. “Fae are known for persuasion, among other things, yes? There are a few Night Children who don’t quite understand the rules yet, so I need you to help Hyou and me teaching them the ways of the circus. How does that sound?”

Ayden blinked, not having expected this. “Uhm.. Thank you? Sounds like a big responsibility..”

Efrain sighed. “Of course, you will be compensated for it, which I gather, you could use ever since you decided to move to your own tent with your sibling. Which, brings me to my next point. I need you to get Casey to accept the ways of the circus and settle with us. They’re not going anywhere, so acting like the enemy as they are so good at won’t help them. I believe Casey doesn’t trust Hyou and me, but they do trust your opinion, so what better way than to start with them?”

Ayden needed a moment to take it in. Convince Casey to become a trusted member of this society... Was that even possible? Nevertheless, Ayden had the urge to defend them. “I mean.. they say a lot, I know, and they’re quite unique, but that’s just how they are. They speak their mind. And they’re new, so...” He wasn’t really sure how to use proper arguments, not when Efrain had such a piercing glare.

“I see. You clearly trust them because they’re your family. I get it. You want to defend them. It’s only natural.” He turned in his chair, facing Ayden directly and leaning in to come closer. “Have you ever wondered what kind of life Casey might have led? What was your childhood like, Ayden? Wonderful? Peaceful? Did it feel that way?”

Tír na Nóg... Of course he remembered it that way. It had been home...

“However,” Efrain continued. “Did you ever think of what it was like when Casey joined your family? They don’t carry fae blood, not in their genetics anyway, from what I could gather during the DNA tests, nor are your genes similar, yet Casey looks more fae than you. This means they are a changeling, yes? A human snatched by a fae and claimed as their child. Didn’t your mother’s attention shift from you to Casey? Didn’t Casey have a lot more to learn?”

“Sure Casey had a lot more to learn..” Where was Efrain going with this?

“Doesn’t that frustrate you? Casey had all the attention from your mother back then, didn’t they? Are you okay with that?”

Ayden nodded, furrowing his eyebrows at the scientist.

Efrain shook his head however. “No, my boy, how can you be? You are her blood, her first born, were you not? How could you not have been jealous of Casey? And now they appear as a fae, with all those abilities you never got to learn and Casey looks like the confident full blood fae who believes they can do as they please. Doesn’t that anger you? It would anger me if they were my family.”

“But Casey doesn’t mean anything bad by acting as such.. they’re just.. very protective of me, that’s all!”

“Even though you’re the older brother? Even though this is your home and Hyou raised you like his own? He never gave Icarus more attention than you or the other way around, did he? He treated you both equally, trained you both equally. And then there is Casey, waltzing in like they own this place, even though you know it much better than them and have many more privileges here than them.”

Ayden shook his head, gaze locked on the chair legs beneath them.

“Oh please.” Efrain cupped Ayden’s cheeks. “I know you’ve been thinking it. Don’t deny it. Hyou and I know you better than most here. I bet I know you better than Casey knows you. I see you’ve been hesitating lately. You haven’t been in the best of moods either, have you?”

Ayden grabbed the sides of his chair, holding onto it tightly until his knuckles whitened from the grip. “That was just-”

“Don’t bother, I know what you’re thinking. I bet Casey has been trying to convince you of other things, made you feel like you would want to go back to the land of the Faerie, did they not? They believe you’re weak and naive for listening to Hyou and me, but that’s not the case is it?”

Ayden shook his head, Efrain’s cold hands still on his face.

“See? You’re a clever boy, Ayden. You know exactly what this circus is all about, you’re the clever one, not Casey. And you need to help them along. Help them believe in our cause so you two can lead a good life here, because you did build up a decent living. It can be even better, I can promise you that. You know I never go back on my promises, don’t you? I know how important deals and promises are to supernaturals, so I take it seriously as well.”

Ayden nodded, hesitantly looking up at Efrain. “Casey’s not bad, really..”

“Then help me believe that, my boy. I would love nothing more than for them to have a home here, like you. Who knows, maybe you can learn a few more magic tricks as well. See? There is only more to gain by having them settle here, so don’t allow them to persuade you otherwise, because you’re the one who sees clearly, not them.”

The cold spot in the pit of his stomach turned into a blazing hot fire as he hesitated about the words swimming in his mind. Should he say it?

“What is it?” Efrain had seen the hesitation.

“Casey.. they were talking about escaping this place.” He gulped, throat feeling dry, knuckles now hurting. “I-I mean, that was only the first day, they haven’t said anything like that ever since! I just.. I..” Efrain had been right. They did think they could do as they please. Worse yet, they made him hesitate about the circus which had been his home for years now.

Efrain grip on Ayden’s face tightened, the fae boy flinching in pain. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier, huh?” He pulled Ayden up, not releasing him, and pushed him against the wall, reminding Ayden of what Kai had put him through for years. “You should have told me this right away!”

“I’m sorry! They seemed to have changed their mind so I didn’t think it was necessary any longer!”

“You know words of escape should always be reported! The streets are filled with hunters who will snipe you down as soon as you set foot outside without permission!” Grip tightened, as if Efrain was trying to hurt him as much as he could by simply squeezing his face.

Ayden’s jaws hurt.. “I’m sorry,” he managed to mumble. “I just wanted to give them a chance..! I never meant to against any rules myself! I swear!”

Efrain released him and held his shoulders instead. “Don’t make me punish them. Gain their trust, make them settle and you will both continue to lead decent lives here. It’s that simple, yes?”

Ayden nodded, cowering as if expecting another blow from the scientist. This was why he preferred Hyou. He was less explosive, a lot nicer.. a lot more understanding.

“You can go now. Tell Hyou about this meeting, will ya?

The fae boy nodded once more before hurriedly leaving the camper.

#{ drabble }#{ circus verse }

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pennywaltzy · 5 years

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Alternate Beginnings, Alternate Endings, Alternate Universes (4/5 - An “Adventures In Unexpected Places” Story)

And here is the last of the old chapters for this story!

Alternate Beginnings, Alternate Endings, Alternate Universes - After being sent to the worst school in the whole of England, Amy meets up with the man whose fault it is that she’s there, and things go vastly more differently than anyone expected.

The rest of the school year came and passed in the blink of an eye, it seemed. Even knowing that the life she was living now wasn’t the life she was supposed to live, and knowing one day it might suddenly be different, she continued on. The Doctor increased his visits to once a week, and then twice a week, always bringing Rory along. Rory had taken it better than she had, once the Doctor told him they were still together in the other life. That seemed to be enough for him.

Soon it was summer and she was saying good-bye to St. Trinian’s for a summer in Leadworth. Mels hadn’t wanted to leave, because the schemes she made with Fast Harry were coming to fruition, and as she said, she didn’t want him to muck anything up while she was gone. It was with some reluctance that she left, but she threatened Fast Harry with bodily harm before she left. Apparently he was very scared of a thirteen-year-old girl, because he swore he’d keep everything in tip-top shape.

“It’s been an interesting year, hasn’t it?” Mels asked as they were on the bus on their way back to Leadworth.

“Yeah, it has,” Amy said with a nod. Mels didn’t know about the other timeline, or the changes the Doctor planned on making. She just hoped that she had more time because really, she did enjoy this life. “It’s going to be boring going back to Leadworth.”

“But Rory’s there. That’s got to make you happy, having the chance to see him every day for three months,” Mels teased, bumping her shoulder into Amy’s. “And besides, it’s not like your Aunt’s changed her mind. She’s gotten used to you not being there. Come next term, it’s back to St. Trinian’s for us.”

“I hope so.” Mels got a good look at her face and kept quiet for most of the ride back, which suited Amy just fine. They got off the bus in Leadworth to see Rory waiting for them. He greeted Amy with a kiss, which made her smile, and he said the adults were waiting at Mels’ home for dinner. When Amy asked about Aunt Sharon, he said he didn’t know, and that Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair probably did. Since Mels only lived a few blocks from the bus stop the three of them walked there, Rory being a gentleman and carrying both their backs, one on his back and one on his bike.

They made it to Mels home and her parents greeted them warmly, inviting Rory to stay for dinner as well. They said nothing about Aunt Sharon, and as the meal wore down Amy began to get impatient. Finally, as everyone was finishing desert, she spoke up. “When can I go home?” she asked.

“You aunt had to go out of town,” Mr. Sinclair said after a moment. “She’s in America for the next three weeks. She asked us to keep an eye on you for her.”

Amy couldn’t believe it. Her aunt had bought the bus ticket home. Surely she had remembered her niece was coming back? “I can’t believe she’s not here,” she said glumly.

“You know, Amy can stay at the place by herself, Mum, Dad,” Mels said. “If she gets scared she can just come over here. Please? She’s been gone from home since break and all she wants to do is sleep in her own bed tonight.”

The two adults looked at each other from across the table. “I suppose she won’t mind. But call us when you get there, and come over frequently,” Mr. Sinclair said.

Amy beamed at him. “Thank you.” She pushed her chair back from the table, and Rory did the same. They said their good-byes to Mels and her family and then made their way off towards Amy’s house. “I can’t believe she’s not here,” she said with a sigh when they were halfway to her home.

“She hasn’t spent a lot of time here since the spring,” Rory said. “I told you that.”

“I know, but to not be here when I got home? It’s further proof she doesn’t care about me.” She took another step forward before she realized Rory wasn’t following. She turned to look at him, and he reached over for her hand. “What?” she asked, holding it tightly.

“She’s looking to move away. I heard my parents talking about it one night a few weeks back. She wants to go to London, and keep you at the school the whole year round, and during the summer…I don’t know.”

“Leave Leadworth? Leave our home?” she said, surprised. Then she scowled. “Course she would. It’s a stupid town with stupid people and it’s all just a reminder of how much I made her life miserable.”

“I was going to try and talk my parents into letting you stay with us for the summer, and I know as soon as Mels finds out she’ll try and do the same. You’ll still get to see me. I mean, there’s the Doctor, right? I see you more than I’d ever thought I would now.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” she said with a sigh. She took another step towards her home and this time he followed, still holding her hand with the hand he wasn’t using to guide his bike. “We should run away, just the three of us. We could make it out there.”

“Maybe the Doctor will take us now?” Rory suggested.

Amy beamed at him, then leaned over and kissed him. “That’s brilliant, Rory. Camilla gave me the number to call him. When we get to my place we’ll call him and we’ll ask him to take us away.” She let go of his hand and ran the rest of the way to her house, Rory keeping up as best he could. When they got to her home she took the key out of her pocket and let herself in, and dashed to the phone in the kitchen.

“Hopefully he picks up,” Rory said as he got to her, putting her duffel bag on the floor.

“Yeah, hopefully.”” She let it ring once, twice, three times, then four, and it went to a machine. “Doctor, Aunt Sharon isn’t in Leadworth and I’m home and she’s planning on moving away and Rory and I want to travel with you all the time, if it’s all right. We don’t want to stay where we’re at. So please, come pick us up and take us with you, all right?” She hung up and looked at him. “I guess now we wait. How late can you stay over?”

“Till ten, maybe.”

“Hopefully he’ll be here by then.” And then they heard the familiar vworp-vworp-vworp that signaled the Doctor’s arrival. The two of them dashed outside and saw the TARDIS parked next to the swing set, and by the time they got to it the door was thrown open. “Doctor!” Amy called out as they came into the console room.

“Amelia, Rory, good to see you,” he said with a grin.

“Doctor, please, let us travel with you all the time,” Amelia leaded as she threw her arms around his waist. “Please?” She heard another person clear their throat, and she pulled away from the Doctor to see a woman with frizzy blonde hair standing near the console. “Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m River Song,” she said with a warm smile. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Rory looked from the Doctor to River and back to the Doctor. “Is that your girlfriend?”

The Doctor smiled slightly. “So she says,” he said with a nod. “Wife, actually. Timey-wimey wibbly-wobbly stuff. In that other future you two have, she gets me to marry her. We still consider each other husband and wife.”

“Oh,” Amy said, looking at River closely. “You don’t look like I’d thought you would look.”

“And just how did you think I would look?”

“Younger, like him,” Amy said, and the Doctor chuckled at that.

“I don’t look that old, do I?” River asked, though she still had a slight smile on her face. “I should probably leave the three of you alone anyway. I believe you all have some things to talk about.” She came up to the Doctor and kissed his cheek. “Remember what I told you, sweetie, and be gentle.”

“Yes dear,” he said. She took a step back, pressed a few buttons on the device on her wrist, and then she was gone.

“What’s she talking about?” Amy asked.

“Well, my enemies are springing their trap a bit earlier than planned,” he said. “The Pandorica is lying in wait for me underneath Stonehenge. I started opening it, and then I left. River’s going off to check.”

“But then I die, and you have to wait two thousand years for me to get better,” Amy said.

“Well, the TARDIS isn’t exploding today, so I expect it won’t go quite according to their plans. But…it means I may not come back. We’ll see. I had planned on coming to see the both of you tonight anyway, and then I got your call. But I’m afraid I can’t take you with me. It’s too dangerous right now.”

“I understand,” Amy said with a sigh in a slightly bitter tone. “You’re going to leave me too. I see how it is. Everyone leaves.”

“Amelia,” he said quietly, placing both hands on her shoulders. She looked at his chest until he put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “We’re doing this for you, River and I. If it went the way it was supposed to before, you would lose this life but you’d have your parents back. I know how much you love this life, and I’m trying to help you keep it. You were able to bring me back the last time. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that this time.”

“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“I want to tell you both something,” he replied. “River is more than just my wife. She’s a good friend, not just to me, but to both of you. In fact, it’s because of her that the two of you are together.”

“But it was Mels that got us together,” Rory said with a frown. “She’s the one who told Amy that I liked her, the first day they were at St. Trinian’s.”

“Exactly,” the Doctor said.

“So…Mels is River?” Amy said.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“How is that possible?” she asked.

“River, and by extension Mels, is special. She’s human, but she has Time Lord DNA. It means she can regenerate, just as I had done when you first met me, Amelia. And she has a very particular reason for making sure the two of you get together and stay together. You see, she’s your daughter, in the other timeline. She is in this one as well, but things go differently here. She’s kidnapped by different people, for one, and she’s not raised as a weapon here. But she needs to make sure the two of you stay together long enough to have her.”

“How come she’s part Time Lord?” Rory asked.

The Doctor blushed slightly. “When the two of you are old enough, you have your…first time…aboard the TARDIS, while it’s in flight.” Amy and Rory looked at each other and made a slight face. Kissing was one thing; that was something else altogether. “You get to raise her for a few years, but then she’s kidnapped and you lose her. Meanwhile she regenerates in the past and she makes her way to Leadworth to be your friend and get you together. Then she’ll regenerate later into River and she comes into my life again.”

“That’s all so confusing. It’s making my head hurt,” Amy said, rubbing her temples slightly.

“I know. But she wanted me to tell you so that you know no matter what, you two keep hold of one another. And we’re hoping that if we spring this trap now I can get out of it easily enough, and then we can continue our adventures so you two can…you know…when you’re older.”

“That makes sense,” Rory said slowly, nodding. “Kind of.”

“So I can’t take you away now, and you two don’t travel with me full time for a few years yet. But no matter what, even if this fails, you two don’t lose each other. You have the kind of love that comes along once a century. Nothing can break that bond.”

“Oh,” Amy said.

“And now I need to go.” He offered Rory his hand, which Rory shook, and then he hugged Amelia tightly. “Hopefully it will all work out. I’ll try and come back as soon as possible, all right? If not…know that I care deeply about the both of you.” He let Amy go, and then he guided them out of the TARDIS. Amy and Rory waved as he shut the door, then watched as the TARDIS dematerialized and they were alone.

“I want it all to work out,” Rory said, holding her hand tightly.

“Yeah, me too,” she replied, squeezing it back. “Come on. If you can stay till ten, maybe we can watch some movies or something and relax. He’ll do fine. I have faith in him.”

“Yeah, I do too,” he said, giving her a smile. She smiled back and they went back inside the house. At least they would have each other, no matter what. That was something.

#doctor who #st trinians #amy x rory #fanfic #fanfiction #amy pond #mels zucker #rory williams #eleventh doctor #the doctor #river song #multipart: alternate beginnings alternate endings alternate universes #my au: adventures in unexpected places

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cocos-cocoapuffsarenotforsale · 6 years

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Not Him~~Part 1

MASTER LIST

Not Him~ Prologue

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Canon divergence(it’s fanfic), canon like violence, older man/younger girl (the reader is 19), Dad!Tony Stark

A/N: Remember it’s fanfic so I did use similar scenes from the movie but they were obviously changed to fit the story! I hope everyone likes this chapter and I can’t wait to post more for you guys! Love you all thank you for reading!

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“Hello?” You answer your phone. It had been almost a year since you met Bucky and the two of you had been bouncing around Europe ever since.

“Y/n where the hell are you?” Steve’s frantic voice shouts.

“Captain that kind of language is that?” You question lightly trying to calm him down.

“Have you seen the news? The UN meeting was bombed! They’re saying Bucky did it.” Steve explains quickly.

“Bucky’s out getting food now. He couldn’t have done that Steve, he wouldn’t. He hasn’t relapsed since we met. We’re in Bucharest. Once he gets back we’ll leave.”

“I know you guys are in Bucharest but what’s the address? I don’t want them to find Bucky first.” Steve explains. You tell him the address and before you know it he’s there.

“He isn’t back yet?” Steve huffs.

“No but he never leaves me for more than a couple hours he should be back any minute. He’s pretty protective.” You groan. You and Bucky had kinda started a relationship of sorts and even though he knew your powers he still treated you like a damsel in distress.

“Are you two together?” Steve questions, shocked.

“Sorta.” You admit before the door bursts open.

“Y/N! We gotta go they think I-,” He stops when he sees Steve. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I came to help. They don’t wanna take you alive Buck.” Steve explains calmly.

“Y/n we gotta go.” Bucky grabs his backpack and stuffs his journals and money in it. He rushes towards you and grabs your hand. He places a hard, possessive kiss on your lips. “Let’s go.”

“Buck, let me help.” Steve pleads.

“Steve I gotta protect her. Having Captain America will only draw attention.” Bucky explains heading towards the door.

“They’re here Bucky. We gotta find another way out!” Steve shouts as you hear stomping feet on the stairway.

Bucky shuts and locks the door before crossing towards the window. “Damn! I think we’re gonna have to fight our way to the roof. We can make it if we hop roofs but not if we try from here.” You nod, agreeing with his assessment.

Once the three of you battled through Bucky grabs you and positions you on his back and he jumps. Steve follows as close as he can. Suddenly you're thrown from Bucky’s back by a man dressed in a black catsuit.

“What the hell?!” Bucky shouts. He runs for you only to be intercepted by the cat man. He fights him off and when he can Bucky runs towards you and grabs your hand and the two of you sprint towards the street only to see more cops run towards you. Bucky runs in the direction of the traffic after he pulls you onto his back. He flips a motorcycle and takes off once you’re firmly placed behind him. All of a sudden that black cat man shoves him off, crashing the motorcycle. The police surround you and Bucky. Steve who was right behind you also is forced to surrender and so is the man with the wings, Steve’s friend. War Machine lands directly in front of you, a.k.a your father’s best friend Rhodey.

“Y/n what the hell do you think you're doing? You ignore your father’s pleas to sign the accords and now you're helping the man who bombed the UN?” Rhodey questions as he grabs your arm tugging you out of Bucky’s grip. Or trying to anyway.

“Do not touch her,” Bucky growls protectively.

“Bucky it’s ok.” You attempt to calm him.

“Come with me. Your father is pissed.” Rhodey commands. He drags you away from Bucky.

“Rhodey, he was with me almost all morning. He was out shopping for less than an hour, there is no way he could have had the time to do this. He doesn’t do that stuff anymore.” You plead to try and make him see reason.

“They have him on video!”

“It’s not him!” You argue. “If you want to keep him calm let me stay with him.” You try to negotiate.

“Your father has asked us to bring you directly to him. Let’s go.” Rhodey drags you to the elevator and to a room that has your father pacing in it.

“Hey dad,” you mutter.

“What the hell were you thinking?! First, you lie about what you're doing over here, then you don’t answer my request for you to sign the accords and now you're dating a terrorist?!” Tony bellows at you.

“Dad, Bucky doesn’t do that anymore, it wasn’t him. It’s not even possible. He was with me most of the morning, he was out getting food for less than an hour. He couldn’t have done it. Also, I would never sign away my freedom. And I would have fought tooth and nail for my friends to maintain their freedom. I will never sign those fuckin accords. Now, where is Bucky?!” You demand. Bucky hasn’t had a relapse in the last few months but who knows what all this stress could do to him.

Steve enters the room with Sam following closely behind him. Sharon comes in next.

“Steve could you please set a good example for my daughter and sign the damn accords?!” Your dad grumbles.

“No. Y/n is right Bucky didn’t do this. And nothing will change how I feel about these accords.” Steve replies.

“Where is he?” You demand.

Sharon crosses the room and turns on the TV to a live feed from the holding room where they are keeping Bucky. A man enters the room, your veins turn to ice.

“Who is that?” You ask.

“A psychologist he was called in to evaluate Barnes.” She explains softly. You turn your attention back to the video and freeze when you hear the words.

“Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak.” The man says.

“Shit. Where is he?!” You scream. Sharon tells you the floor and room and how to get there.

“Those are the words HYDRA said to bring the Winter Soldier forward.” You shout before running towards him.

“Y/N!” Your dad shouts after you. You hear Steve, Sam and your father following you. Once you reach the room you see Bucky trying to break through the glass.

“Shit!” You groan, as Bucky finally breaks through the glass.

“Y/n!” Bucky shouts, his voice is different, he’s the Soldier. Your father has one of his gloves on and somehow Steve has his shield and Sam got his wings.

“Soldier” You reply. Bucky told you that if you ever had to deal with him in soldier form to not mention Bucky, to call him Soldier.

“Mission!” He growls running towards you. Your father tries to blast at him which only pisses the Soldier off.

“Dad stop!” You command, walking towards the Soldier.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Your dad yells.

“Tony shut up!” Steve and Sam say at the same time. You approach the soldier and he pulls you to him.

“Mission!” He shouts once he has you in his arms.

“Not my daughter you bastard!” Tony yells running towards the two of you and trying to blast the Soldier with his repulsor beams. This agitates the Soldier making him run off with you in his arms. Even in Soldier form, Bucky wants to protect you.

Bucky gets you to the helicopter pad and tosses you into the co-pilot seat securing your safety belt before trying to take off. Something is dragging on the bottom of the helicopter, looking out your window you see Steve pulling on it trying to stop Bucky from taking off. Super soldiers, you think to yourself rolling your eyes.

Before you can process what’s happening the chopper goes down into the water. The soldier is out cold, Steve, however, swims towards you and unhooks you before grabbing Bucky. You and Steve swim to the surface. Once you hit it Steve continues and you follow until you find yourself in an empty warehouse were you find Sam.

“You ok kid?” Sam asks as soon as you step into the room.

“Yeah. I think the Soldier was only trying to protect me. He never tried to hurt me. I don’t know why but he was protecting me, like how Bucky does.” You explain shivering from the swim. Sam offers you a change of clothes, you have no idea how he got them but you aren’t gonna complain.

After you change you find the boys waiting for Bucky to wake up. Steve puts an arm around your shoulders and you lean into him. Steve was like another dad to you. You met when you were around thirteen and he’s always been there for you whenever you needed him he was there. It was nice that while you and your dad were fighting at least you had someone who understood you.

“What happened?” Bucky groans, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Which Bucky are we talking to?” Steve asks gruffly.

“Your mom’s name was Sarah, you used to stuff newspapers in your shoes,” Bucky mutters, chuckling at the last part.

“Bucky what happened?” Steve asks, confused.

“What HYDRA did to me, it’s still there. All he had to do was say the fucking words.” Bucky’s voice is low and dangerous.

“The words bring the Winter Soldier out.” You whisper as an explanation.

“Why did he want you?” Steve asks.

“I don’t know,” Bucky whispers looking towards you.

“Buck, they’re after you. I need you to do better than that.” Steve explains.

“He was asking me about Siberia, the place HYDRA kept us,” Bucky replies, wincing at the memories.

“Us?” Steve never misses anything.

“I wasn’t the only one. When I-the Soldier killed Howard and Maria Stark, I had to take the samples of DNA from you, Steve. There were five samples, they made five more soldiers. They are the deadliest killers in the world, worse than me. These guys could take down any country in the world in a matter of minutes.” Bucky explains.

“Wow wait a minute you killed Stark’s parents?” Sam questions.

“It was not him! It was the Soldier!” You bite out.

“Where are they, Buck?” Steve asks, ignoring your and Sam’s glaring contest.

“As far as I know still in Siberia,” Bucky admits looking at you. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. He protected me. Made my dad mad as hell but he protected me just like you do. And it was just as annoying.” You tease as you walk over to him and help him get his arm out from under the metal confines.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes.

“Buck, it wasn’t your fault. Everything is gonna be ok.” You promise him, he wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you closer to him.

“So what now?” You ask as you all look towards Steve.

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Not Him~ Part 2

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kaywritepieces · 7 years

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Confessions of a Willowsburg Assassin

Alexander’s childhood had never been what most people in Willowsburg considered normal. His father was a mad scientist who spent the majority of his time creating strange machines that bent reality and stranger genetic monstrosities that crept in the shadows. His mother was a world-renowned assassin who hid razor blades in her long dark hair and never had fewer than four weapons within easy reach. They loved each other very much, and if they sometimes fought whenever she put one of his monsters out of its misery with a swift knife to the throat, they made it up to one another one way or another.

They had met when one of Alexander’s father’s rivals had hired her to kill him and steal the plans to his latest invention. He had defended himself with his previously untested Freeze Ray, which had exploded and left the both of them paralyzed from the neck down and with nothing to do but talk and bond over their mutual love of history. Over the course of the conversation they fell in love, and eleven months later baby Alexander was born.

Both of his parents loved Alexander deeply, and they tried to take the best care of him that they could. For Christmas when he was five, Alexander’s father built him a custom train set with over a thousand tracks and an engine strong enough to pull young Alexander across the lab if he held on too long. On his ninth birthday, his mother took him on a camping trip in the Colorado Rockies and taught him to hunt with a crossbow. For his bedtime story, his mother read him the legends of the constellations and his father told him the histories of the great scholars. He grew up reading Shakespeare, Poe, and Dante. By the time he was twelve he could crack safes, pick pockets, build and disarm bombs, fight in four different styles of martial arts, and prove difficult mathematical theorems.

When he was thirteen, his mother got breast cancer. His father worked night and day trying to find a cure. His mother pulled Alexander aside and told him very seriously, “When I go, you have to take care of your father. He isn’t like you and me; he doesn’t see the world the way that we can. People are going to come for him, and they’re going to try to hurt him, and I need you to stop them if I can’t. You need to keep him safe.” She died after six months.

Eleven years later Alexander still wasn’t sure if he’d fulfilled his mother’s request. His father had become obsessed with curing the disease that had destroyed her and had lost any sense of ethics he had once had. In the course of his quest, he lost contact with the outside world, confining himself to his lab. Alexander couldn’t remember the last time that he’d actually gone outside, let alone interacted with someone who wasn’t either part of one of his experiments, someone trying to stop them, or Alexander himself. Sometimes his experiments put the rest of the city in harm's way, and the media took notice and started to call him “Dr. Death,” as though he were purposefully trying to kill those around him. It only got worse when the man himself heard about it; he started ranting about how cancer was life, out of control and unbridled, and that “if being the arbiter of its destruction placed him on the side of death then he would gladly wield the dread scythe and follow the darkness if that’s what it took to destroy it.”

Thank god he had Ellie. She reveled in disrupting the banal, everydayness of Willowsburg with well-timed instances of out-of-control chaos, but she never did it with the purpose of hurting people. She understood just how painful it could be to be designated by the media as the villain of the story, and she could always be counted on to raise Alexander’s spirits. If nothing else, the two of them could bitch about that goddamned Black Thunder who kept sticking his nose where he wasn’t wanted and ruining their plans while somehow playing himself off as the hero saving the defenseless city.

It had been hilarious when Ellie found out about the girl. “Jane Goody,” she had said. “What dumbass hero could resist her with a name like that?” They’d played at guessing who she was to Black Thunder—a girlfriend, a sister, an alternate dimension version of himself (okay, sometimes they played over a bottle of wine, and Ellie was a weird drunk). It hadn’t really been any hardship to steal her away to his father’s lab a few times and wait for Black Thunder to appear in a shriek of pure sound waves, enraged and unthinking and ready to fight, and even though he always got away with the girl he’d leave enough blood or DNA behind that Alexander’s father could continue on with his experiments.

Of course, it had to come back to bite him. He walks into work at Cher one day (the life of a mad scientist doesn’t pay well, and besides Alexander figures that it’s important to have a life outside of villainy and vengeance) and there she is, talking to his boss about how her last place of employment got destroyed by the Gonnam’s giant robot last week and how she’s got lots of experience in retail. She introduces her self with a smile and a self-deprecating joke about “yes, that really is my last name, I swear I’m not lying,” and he smiles and nods and tells her his name, his real name because he thought that he could at least have this job without the rest of his life bleeding into it.

They work a few of the same shifts, and he tries to avoid her as much as he can without being impolite but he can’t help but learn that she’s got a boyfriend (Brad, because why wouldn’t the superhero who consistently tries to ruin his life sound like a frat boy) and that she was an English major in college and that she genuinely, sincerely believes that the world is inherently good even though he knows for a fact that she gets kidnapped on the regular, and sometimes by people much more vicious than him.

And then one day he’s talking to a customer about handcuffs and he sees her freeze out of the corner of his eye and turn a little green, and then run to the back of the store and he knows that she’s finally recognized him. He goes after her (and he brings her some water because if she’s thrown up then he doesn’t want to smell that on her breath, doesn’t want the customers to smell that on her breath, and doesn’t really think that she deserves the taste in her mouth anyway) and he makes some vague threats about outing her and her boyfriend (and it’s nice to know that he was right about the boyfriend—Brad—being Black Thunder). He goes back to work and she follows him a few minutes later and everything goes back to normal.

And when some customers come in talking about Black Thunder and how hot he is in his costume and how dreamy he must be under the mask (and he won’t lie, built and bossy may not be Alexander’s type but he is a full-blooded bisexual and he’s wondered the same thing once or twice) he hears Jane sigh and shake her head ruefully and then go deal with said customers with a cheery smile, and he remembers that she knows exactly how dreamy he is under the mask.

And when a man comes in looking for ropes he almost dies holding in his laughter because Jane cooks up some story about closeted lesbian girl scouts and a life-changing ski trip, and his life may be a mess but at least he’s never had to lie and pretend that Electriss and Aguagirl were his childhood friends who discovered their forbidden love for each other by tying him to a chair. He’s honestly impressed with the span of her knowledge though, especially since she almost definitely gained most of it under duress. He’s equally, though perhaps less honestly, impressed with her glare when he teases her about it after the customer leaves.

And when Ellie creates an army of giant hamsters (“R.O.U.S’s, Alexander, it’s hilarious!”) using Gladiator and her own magical charms and he gets trapped in an empty shop with Jane, he learns that apparently supervillains are the world’s worst gossips and that Ellie is severely underappreciated by the community because Jane seems to think that she’s not that good of a villain and that’s just wrong. Somehow the two of them end up debating over who is the most useless supervillain in the city, and Alexander can’t help but champion Macbeth because why would an environmentalist themed villain name themselves after a Shakespeare character, and Jane starts to agree that the man really should have thought better than to name himself after the guy who loses everything and dies. But then she sees a dildo on the counter and picks it up, and she grins at him and just says, “The Plumber,” and he hasn’t laughed this hard in ages.

And when he hears some rumors about the Marion Gang gearing up for some kind big job involving the First National Bank and worrying about Black Thunder, he surprises himself when his first reaction isn’t, “Someone to take the pressure off of me and dad,” but rather is, “They better not try to kidnap Jane.” He tries not to think about it too hard, but he isn’t shocked when he finds himself bringing in a can of mace to work the next day. He promises himself that he’ll just tell Jane that there were some rumors and that she might want to be careful, but when her face turns pale and she starts to cry all of those promises fall crashing to the ground and he holds her tight like his mother used to when he had a nightmare and he tells her that nothing will happen to her, he swears, they won’t touch a hair on her head. Two nights later the cops get an anonymous tip and find the majority of the Marion Gang knocked unconscious and surrounded by drugs, guns, and records of their dirty dealings going back a year.

And when Black Thunder finally gets him, when Alexander finally falls and has to crawl away, blood in his mouth and body aching, he wonders if this is the end. His father is in police custody and will probably get put away for life unless Alexander somehow manages to break him out (he’s not sure if he wants to break him out). Alexander is beaten, and it will be a long time before he’s in any kind of shape to go back out and fight again. It takes three days before he can even try to walk again, and he knows that he’s probably lost the job at Cher too. Everything’s fallen apart, and he doesn’t know how to get it back.

Except that when he goes back to Cher, praying like he hasn’t for years that he’ll still have a job waiting for him, he finds Jane. She looks pale and frightened, but she gets a chair for him to sit in behind the counter when there aren’t any customers and she gets him water and gives him half of her lunch. She asks if he’s okay to be at work and tells him that she can cover his shifts if he needs her to, really, it’s fine. She asks if he’s gone to a doctor (he hasn’t, technically, but he knows how to treat wounds and he knows his own limits), if he has a place to stay (he can stay will Ellie, but he only tells her that he’s got a friend who will let him crash on her couch, and she doesn’t ask who). She opens her mouth, closes it again, and crosses her arms over her stomach. She looks down and asks the floor, “will you be okay?” and he—doesn’t know (He chokes on a response and she’s there immediately, hands folding around his shoulders and shoulder cradling his head and he sobs into her shirt because he just—he messed up, he should have done better, and he doesn’t know how to live without his father’s pain and obsession to drive him.)

#Confessions of a Willowsburg Assassin #superheroes #Companion to The Willowsburg Retail Experience

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