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#the kidnappers hand themselves over they’re so done
ikarakie · 10 months
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tony’s been dreaming of the day peter and harley meet, because he just knows they’ll get on like a house on fire.
he, however, certainly doesn’t expect their first meeting to be them getting kidnapped together, over 900 miles apart. he also doesn’t expect the frantic phone call he gets two sleepless days later, from their kidnapper, begging him to please come get the kids because they’re so fucking irritating.
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actress4him · 9 months
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Querencia 15 - Park Day
The enthusiastic response I got on the last piece I posted helped motivate me to keep going! This is the actual chronologically next chapter, coming in a month or two after Mind Control. Enjoy!
Taglist: @darthsutrich , @inky-whump , @painful-pooch , @pigeonwhumps , @bookworm2107
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Contains: referenced mind control, referenced parental abandonment, fear of abandonment, broken bone, a couple more warnings in the tags to avoid spoilers here
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Things have been fairly normal since the whole “supervillain getting in Jamil’s head and making him attack everyone” incident. Dagger is still a near-weekly problem, along with Meltdown and whoever else he happens to be hanging out with at the moment. Other villains come and go, too, some low-level Supers like Reaper and Gibbous, along with non-Super nuisances that the team does their best to curb, too - bank robbers and muggers and kidnappers and such.
No one has heard anything from or about Luna. Then again, no one had heard of her before the incident, either. Which means she’s probably still out there, and could very well be biding her time until she can strike again. None of them ever really talk about her, but Liliana can feel anxiety hanging in the air that wasn’t there before, especially on poor Jamil’s part.
Luna knows exactly where they live, what they look like without their masks on. Probably knows their names and where they work, thanks to rummaging through Jamil’s brain. So not only could she easily return, but she could also tell others the information she learned. They don’t know who she might be associated with. They managed to pin down Reaper one day and quiz him about her and any other new villains in town, but he was less than helpful on the subject.
Even if they could track her down and catch her, Liliana has learned from snippets of conversation that they really have nothing to do with her. It’s something she’s never thought of before, but one reason that there are still so many supervillains around is that there’s no way to arrest them. The government likely could detain them, but no one trusts that it would be humane or that the heroes wouldn’t also be captured in the process of trying to hand them over. Just the thought of the government locking them up makes Liliana sick to her stomach, villains or not.
Normal jails can’t handle them. Normal courtrooms can’t, either, in order to convict them to send them to jail. And no hero wants to be in charge of locking them away themselves, even if they did have the space and technology.
So all they can do for now is damage control, really. Try to stop their crimes as often as they can, try to disrupt whatever plans they have. She doesn’t envy the team their jobs. Between supervillains, regular criminals, and their day jobs, they’re constantly busy.
Every other Saturday, though, after everyone who’s working gets home, they make it a point to go do something together. Since Liliana’s been with them they’ve seen a couple of movies, gone to an arcade, had a picnic, gone to the mall, and eaten out at restaurants a few times. Every experience is a huge deal for her, though she tries to make light of the awe she feels. It’s just been so long since she’s done such normal, fun things. Sometimes she feels like she’s watching someone else’s life.
Today, they’re at the city park. No one can remember whose idea it was to start with, but “the children” - as Quinn likes to fondly dub Nari, Alex, and Jamil - went crazy over the thought of playing on the playground, so here they are. It’s late enough that all of the actual children have gone home. Jamil is trying out every slide, while Quinn judges Nari and Alex in a series of competitions on the monkey bars. Liliana watches everyone from the side, a small smile on her face, but every once in a while she glances over at the empty swings.
Swinging used to be her favorite. Especially on park or school swings like these, with the long chains that could take you so high you felt like you were flying. She and Mila used to see who could go the highest, and try to swing themselves right over the top bar.
It feels silly and childish now. She can’t swing herself right now, anyway. She healed another broken rib - on Nari this time - earlier this week, just a couple of weeks after the pain from Alex’s had finally faded. So there’s no way that she can pump the chains on a swing.
Still…she could just sit in one. That won’t hurt anything. Glancing over at the chin-up contest again, she makes her way over and settles into the plastic seat, gloved hands gripping the chains loosely. Her toes just barely reach the ground, giving her enough leverage that she can give herself a little push. The swing rocks gently. Liliana watches her sneakers as they brush across the dirt, back and forth. She pushes again and swings a little more. Such a simple motion, but it brings so many childhood memories flooding into her mind.
“May I give you a push?”
The sudden question makes her jump and look back over her shoulder, though she recognizes the voice. Jamil is standing behind her with a smile on his face, cheeks flushed from his adventures down the slides.
“Oh, um…y-you don’t have to, I’m…I’m fine.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I’d like to, if you’d like to swing. If not, I’ll leave you be!”
Now her mind is at war. She automatically wants to say no, not wanting to inconvenience him or make him do things for her.
She also really, really wants to swing.
Somehow, without her actually deciding what to say, “Sure?” slips out.
“Alright, hang on!”
Suddenly, she’s flying through the air, and it’s exactly how she remembers it. Colors rush by as the wind blows her curls back off her shoulders, then tangles them around her cheeks again. She grabs onto the chains tighter. Her legs automatically fall into a pumping motion, toes pointing out at the horizon, her eyes bright with exhilaration.
Yes, it pulls at her rib a bit. But she finds she doesn’t really care.
She’s been swinging for a few minutes, oblivious to anything else around her, when another voice breaks in. “Hold on tight, I’m coming through!” A set of hands grab the swing by her hips and shove forward, higher and faster until she’s sure she actually is going to go over the top bar, or more likely, fall out the back of the swing. She squeals in shock, though this sensation is familiar, too. Then she’s dropped abruptly, her stomach following the motion, the swing’s momentum twisting it back and forth as it reaches the bottom again.
Alex is turned around watching her, laughing. He’d come up from behind and grabbed the swing, running all the way underneath it.
Her brother used to do the very same thing, back when she was small enough he could lift her.
“Did I scare you?”
“A, a little.” She’s smiling, though. She can’t help it, even with the pain in her side and the melancholy of missing what used to be.
These people…they treat her like a family should. Better than her family ever did, though she feels like a traitor for thinking it.
She shouldn’t fall for it. If her real family taught her anything, it’s that what seems like love and care won’t last and can’t be trusted. If her own flesh and blood eventually turned on her, then she can’t expect people who were strangers a few months ago to be any different.
But right now, she’s shoving those thoughts deep, deep down. She can worry about all of that later. Right now, for once, she’s going to let herself enjoy the moment.
Nari is shoving and punching Alex and playfully fussing at him for scaring Liliana, and Jamil has jumped up on the swing next to her, standing on one foot and pumping with his arms. She doesn’t move from her spot, just keeps smiling and watching their antics. They’re so full of life and joy, even with the stress they constantly face.
Before long Quinn takes up Jamil’s position without a word, and she’s swinging again. Alex and Jamil balance on the seesaw, attempting circus tricks, screaming like girls when Nari uses her power to make the metal move beneath them, which sends her into fits of laughter.
It’s late when they finally pile into Quinn’s car to head back to HQ. Everyone is tired in a contented way. Alex leans the passenger seat back practically into Nari’s lap, claiming he’s going to take a nap, while she kicks his headrest repeatedly and threatens him. Quinn clears his throat loudly, though, and quiet falls to let him focus and not overwhelm him with sound in the small space.
Liliana leans her head back and watches the moon out the sunroof. Her hands are tucked between her knees to keep her arms from brushing up against Jamil and Nari, who each lean into their respective doors to give her more space. It’s…peaceful. She’s pretty sure she hears someone snoring. She could fall asleep, too, honestly, which is surprising for her since she doesn’t usually feel comfortable sleeping unless she’s alone.
The motion of the car does lull her into a near-dozing state. Her eyes are closed and she’s absentmindedly trying to picture which turn they’re taking when someone gasps and the car suddenly jerks to one side. Liliana’s eyes fly open and she sits up abruptly. There’s a bump and a loud popping and hissing sound, then the car is swerving uncontrollably, headlights sweeping back and forth across the empty road.
The seconds seem to pass in slow motion. Her hands are gripping the seats in front of her, eyes fixated out the front windshield. A cacophony of screams and shouted words fill the car as the steeply sloped side of the road looms in front of them, cutting off abruptly as they tip over the side and begin to fall.
Gravity inverts, and for a moment she’s weightless before being slammed back down. Her temple smashes into something hard and unyielding. Images are swimming through the darkness around her - a cracked window, slumped figures. A beam of light making her wince and turn away.
Someone groans. The car shakes as a door is forced open.
“This one’s still awake.”
“Here, use the syringe.”
There’s movement around her, the click of seatbelts unbuckling too loud in her ears.
“Wait, why are there five?”
“What?”
“This one, who is she? She’s not one of the usuals, is she?”
“Doesn’t matter, just grab her.”
Something is very, very wrong, but she can’t make her body work to do anything about it. The darkness outside is creeping closer inward. She feels her seatbelt loosen and a pair of hands latch onto her, but the darkness closes in completely before she can protest.
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sea-owl · 6 months
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Spring's Rebirth Chapter 13: Gladiolus
AO3: Link
Penelope woke the next day to see her husband holding her crown in one hand and a pomegranate seed in the other. Squishing the seed between his fingers the juices dripped down one the rubies, turning them darker in color until they matched the pomegranate seeds.
He turned to her with a smile. "I think I'll call them garnets."
He handed her the crown. Penelope smiled at the jewels. “They’re beautiful.”
Colin wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. Penelope leaned into him. They sat in comfortable silence before Colin tightened his hold on Penelope.
“You ate something from the Underworld.”
Penelope nodded, now reaching for her pomegranate. “I did.”
“And you didn’t put any protection spells on it for cross court consumption.”
“I didn’t.”
Colin kissed her shoulder. “So you’re staying?”
Penelope sighed. “I don’t think I can.”
“But you-!”
Penelope turned and faced Colin. “My dear husband, I have a plan that I believe will satisfy everyone.”
Colin gave Penelope a soft kiss. “I’m listening.”
As Penelope explained her plan Colin found himself grinning at his brilliant wife. He really couldn’t ask for anyone better.
When they finally emerged Colin had on his dark robes with gold details embroidered around the edges, crown resting on his head. Penelope’s dress was a light jade green, jewel flowers sewed in around the belt of her dress. Her loose red curls held back by her poppy hair pin and her crown on her head.
They both gave each other a quick hand squeeze before joining the others in the dinning room. Francesca's and Phillip's eyes widened at the crown on Penelope's head. Felicity scooted closer to her sister.
"So you plan to stay?" Felicity asked.
Penelope took a bite of the breakfast in front of her. "Not exactly."
The Underworld looked different now, more like what Penelope used to see in her visions. The wheat fields in the Field of Punishment grew high, some souls disappearing in it all together. The perfume of flowers from the Asphodel Meadows drifted through the air. Meanwhile you could hear the laughter from Elysium as souls climbed the fruit covered trees. Even the Trail of Poppies glowed brighter now as the group led by Phillip made their way out of the Underworld.
Penelope felt pride at being able to help bring back life to the Underworld. Now she only hopes she can do the same for the world above.
There was a sense of deja vu for Penelope when she finally saw the mortal world and what her mother's wrath has done to it. It almost felt like she was seeing the Underworld for the first time again.
Colin squeezed Penelope's hand. "You can do this."
Penelope took a deep breathe. "I can do this."
Penelope took her first step back into the mortal world, and the grass under her feat turned green.
-
Portia's head snapped up. Something had just grew on the land. It didn't come her either. Actually this energy felt like . . .
Portia gasped. "Penelope."
The agriculture goddess smiled. Oh her baby, it will be over soon. Portia will see her missing daughter soon and then take her away from that chaos damned kidnapper.
She must hurry to Mount Aubrey.
-
It took every ounce of strength Penelope had. not to shrink in on herself once they reached Mount Aubrey. Every member of the Court of Heaven and the Court of Earth were in attendance. The Bridgertons besides the two beside her were of course sitting on their thrones and the part that made Penelope want to shrink in the most was her mother standing besides the thrones, glaring at the High King of the Gods.
The Court of the Underworld took their own seats. Francesca went to her throne. Phillip and Felicity gave Penelope a smile before sitting down themselves. Phillip with their friends, and Felicity with their sisters. Colin stood by Penelope as they made their greetings.
"Ah," Anthony said. "The King and Queen of the Underworld have finally joined us."
Portia rolled her eyes. "You mean your brother finally returned my daughter."
"Mama," Penelope whispered.
Portia pulled Penelope into a quick hug before looking her over for injuries. "Are you alright? That brute didn't hurt you did he?"
Penelope lifted her hands. "No Mama, I am fine. More than fine really."
Portia froze. “Penelope what is that? Where did you get that?” Portia whispered.
Penelope smiled down at her pomegranate that she brought with her. “It's a pomegranate Mama. I grew it while I was in the Underworld.”
Portia rushed towards her daughter, grabbing the sides of her arms. “Tell me you didn’t eat from it you foolish girl! Not without putting cross consumption spells on it! Tell me you didn’t!”
Penelope stared into her mother’s eyes. Her voice loud and clear as she declared, “I ate it straight from the tree, six seeds.”
The room tensed. hushed whispers broke out. Penelope could see the other two kings looking at one another while the other siblings glanced from Colin, who still remained by Penelope's side, to Portia. She could imagine her friends and sisters were whispering questions to Phillip and Felicity.
Portia turned her glare onto Colin. “You tricked my daughter!” She spat in disgust.
Colin glared back at the agriculture goddess. "I did no such thing! I love her! Penelope willingly ate the seeds on her own! And do you really think I could ever trick Penelope? She is too smart for that! It's not like you don't even know your own daughter!"
"I love my daughter!" Portia yelled.
"But you do not know her!"
"I know her well enough to know she would never willingly eat food from another court!"
"But I did," Penelope said, interrupting their argument. "I willingly ate six seeds."
Portia looked at Penelope, hurt written on her face. "Penelope?"
"I willingly ate six seeds," Penelope repeated. "Therefore I am willing to spend six months of the year in the Underworld and then six months in the mortal one. Do you approve of this deal Mama?"
Portia gently took her daughter's hand that was still holding the pomegranate. "Is this what you want?"
Penelope nodded. "I love him Mama, and I finally feel like a goddess in my own right when I'm in the Underworld."
Portia sighed. "I accept the deal."
The room exploded with noise. Penelope felt herself being asked questions left and right from her friends, her family and her new in-laws. Colin stayed by her side, entwining their hands. The two spouses smiled at one another.
"So," Michael said, plucking the pomegranate from Penelope's hand. "I made a vow to make wedding wine for each of my friends when they finally got married. You think this would make good wine? And when can we expect a wedding? Can't have wedding wine without a wedding."
Penelope burst out laughing. "Will six months do?"
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lyon-amore · 1 year
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What if...? Duskwood Chapter 38
Chapter 37 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*Macie POV*
 It was my fault. He didn't know when they would be, but obviously they would be at the house. He only needed confirmation that the phone was already in the position. Or worse… Perhaps he had followed them from afar. But it was all my fault. From the beginning. Why is he continuing with this? I don't get it, they're not a threat. And he already has Hannah! Why do he want to torture me like this?! What have I done to him?! I look at the screen and see that it is still dark.
  "What’s happening?" I listen to Jessy in total darkness.    “Calm down” Cleo says, then lights a lighter ". It's only a blackout, we already have one this afternoon." She try to calm the situation down, so no one gets nervous.    "But are you all okay?" I ask nervously.    “Yeah, Macie, don’t worry.” Lilly tells me "We're all fine."    "Thank God…" I put my hand to my forehead, relieved.    “I know where the fuses boxes is.” Thomas announces, starting to move "You wait here."    "Lilly, please come with him." I order worried.     Lilly follows. I don't want anyone right now to be alone. They leave the room illuminating themselves with a flashlight. Outside was Dan. He makes a gesture asking what happened.    “It's a blackout.” Thomas tells him.    “I said it half an hour ago, we're should light the firewood.” Dan tells her, annoyed.     Thomas makes a 'Shut up, I got it' gesture as he walks down the stairs. They are all nervous. They reach the floor below and he opens a door, activating the lights in the house again.    “Okay…” Thomas says with relief.    "I'm glad it wasn't anything serious."    “Well, it's not like it's easy to say…” Lilly says, walking up the stairs.     They all gather back at the table, sitting down.
Lilly puts her phone down on a stand and also sits in a spot so I can see everyone. It's a little weird, but I see that she doesn't want to leave me out of this.    "Right…" Thomas begins, scratching the back of his neck "This fuse box is a complete disaster" He looks at everyone except me, since I'm not in the house ". We should be prepared, this might happen a few times."    "Not like we don’t have enough on our plates already." I commented in reference to the fact that the kidnapper was on his way.    "What did Michael mean?" Lilly also looks nervously at everyone and then looks at me "He said he knows where we are now." I look at her worriedly, feeling guilty again ". But he can't know."    "He's just bluffing." Dan replies, crossing his arms.    "I..."    “Macie.” I hear Jake call me softly.     I turn off the microphone and walk over to him. He was already dressed, although this time he wasn't wearing the sweatshirt.    "I've quit the microphone." I tell him, so he can speak to me normally.    “I saw what happened” I move to stand next to him, resting my hand on his shoulder “, consequently re-checked Hannah's cell phone data” He shoots me a quick look "by opening the maps application, the hut’s location was sent the to Michael Hanson."     That doesn’t relieve me at all. My suspicions were correct.    "I just realized that myself" I tell him, a little nervous ”. How was I supposed to know what that app was going to do."    "I know." he tells me calmly.    "This can't be happening" I walked away thinking about what I had just done. Walking around the room. So he hadn't followed us yet, he was waiting for his theater because he knows perfectly well that we were here… Or maybe it's really Michael? God... I'm going crazy "I have to tell the others right now."   "I will tell the others" I turn to Jake, concerned ". And I will take full responsibility for what happened."    "No Jake." I pulled closer to him, making him look at me "They’ve only just started trusting you."     Jake takes my hand and kisses it. I think he sees how nervous I am.    "I gave you the instruction to open this application" He caresses my cheek affectionately and I can't help but look worried ". Beside, I know what your friends mean to you."   "Either way, I don’t want you to do that" I separate myself from him, going for the phone ". I will stand up for my mistakes." I look at him decisively on the subject.     Jake nods slowly.   "That is a very honorable decision."     I nod, and before hitting the microphone button, he tells me something else.    "Macie, is there anything else I should know?" He asks me, a little annoyed "Do you think there is something else that could have infiltrated?"      I remember the messages from the kidnapper. I still hadn't told him.    "No" I deny ", nothing."     He gives me a disappointed look before going back to the computer. I don't want to tell him, we have other problems to take care of.
I hit the microphone and the first thing I hear is Jessy.    "Right, Macie?"    "Sorry, I was a bit distracted just now" I replied, sitting down on the bed and getting comfortable. I wasn't even dressed yet ". I’m afraid I have to tell you something. The kidnapper knows where you are" I see their face. Lilly and Jessy were scared, Cleo looked at me confused. Thomas put his hands to his head and Dan makes an annoyed sound. "It was a mistake!" I say as quickly as possible "I'm sorry."    “Oh no…” Cleo blurts out and I see her start to pale.    "But…" Lilly looks at me with glassy eyes, it looks like she's going to cry "Macie, you can't be serious…"    "I'm so angry with myself..."    "How could that happene?" Thomas asks me, a little annoyed. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jake Michael Hanson initiated location sharing on Hannah’s cell phone Afterwards, he must have deactivated the GPS signal, thereby pausing said location sharing. While Macie and I were searching through the phone, we turned the GPS signal on again. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  "Hey Hackerman," Dan begins, "why don't you get on call too? I think you should make an appearance since this is thanks to you, right?" I roll my eyes, now is not the time to doubt Jake again. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Jake That could give away my position. It is better that way. Also, I listen to everything you all say. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  "We've noticed that" Dan looks at his phone badly, reading the message ". And that makes you even weirder."     I look at Jake and he looks at me calmly. As if to say that he is here with me.    “On topic” I say, trying to get back to the point “, which turned on location sharing again too."    "I see" Thomas nods. Although I think he doesn’t understand.    "Don't worry about it Macie" Jessy looks at me with a smile, trying not to let her affect me ". You’ve always helped us. Sometimes, things just go wrong."    "Thank you…" I reply, looking down. It's horrible, I've sent the kidnapper to the house.    "Hey!" She exclaims firmly “Chin up” I look up, looking at the screen ". We need you Macie." I smile at her avoiding tears "You know that right?"     I nod trying to calm down.    “That mean” Thomas begins “Michael knew we’d coming."    "And he knee you’d take the phone" I answered, remembering that it was easy for him to get it ". He planned it all..."    “Oh my Goodness…” Lilly covers her face, scared.     I hear Jake make an angry sound. He must be worried about her right now. I turn off the microphone for a second, leaving the phone on the bed.    "Jake, I'm really sorry..."    “No, it is really not your fault” he says, going back to typing on the computer ". It is mine, I should not have been distracted by nonsense."     I lick my lips listening to him speak. A pain in my chest began to oppress me. Nonsense… Great.    “No, Macie” he tells me quickly, walking over to me and crouching down. He kisses my thigh, trying to fix the situation ", don't think I am talking about you, do not think about it for a second."    "We're nervous, I know." I tell him, stroking his hair.    "I am sorry." He says again, kissing my hand.     I give him a small kiss on his lips and he gets up to go to the computer again and I to the video call.    "Excuse me…I'm trying to relax." I admit. I don’t feel well ". It was too easy to get the phone from the start."    "But what are we gonna do now?" Lilly looks at all of them, still nervous "Go back to Duskwood?"    "That’s probably for the best." Cleo agrees to Lilly's idea.    "Well, as along as you get away from the cabin." I answered, worried.    “Before Richy proposed the cabin, I thought we'd better go to the motel” Lilly looks at me, as if seeking my approval “, as a temporary place for us to stay."    "In any case, we should decide quickly." I sighed, hoping for a quick answer.     Silence is made. Everyone is thinking.    "Couldn’t we just go to a different cabin?" Jessy shrugs, looking at them.    "It's too late for another cabin." I replied, trying to find a solution.    “I’ve a better idea.” We look at Dan, who looks decisive ". We stay."     They begin to look at him very confused with his decision. Until little by little they change from expression to incredulity.    “ ‘We stayed'?"    "Exactly." he bangs his fist on the table "Let him come! I will wait for you here in a nice and cozy way."    "What?!" Lilly yells at him in surprise.    "Dan, this is crazy." I try to make sense.    “Look, I don't know if Macie told you out yet” he looks at the screen, waving at me when he sees I'm frowning “, but I'm here because of you, to keep an eye on you, you know."     I put a hand to my head. Unbelievable what I'm hearing, he's in a wheelchair! How does he intend to defend someone like that?!    "You can’t be serious right now!" Jessy yells at him, worried about him now.    "Oh but I am" he replies with pride in his voice "I’ve got a bone to pick with that mask maker" I avoid laughing at the nickname. They never run out. I do manage to hear Jake let out a small chuckle though ". And I’ll pick it here and now."     I make a sound, annoying. They seem to live to make me nervous.    "This is ridiculous." I says, starting to raise my voice. "You're in a wheelchair!"     Dan's look softens at me when I tell him that. He knows that I'm worried about him. He sighs and starts talking to me calmly.    "Listen," I shake my head, still not happy, "this house has exactly four entrances." I pay attention to his "great" idea ". Two are downstairs on the deck" I see him waving his hand and Thomas goes to the kitchen, with one of those notes that you put on magnets on the fridge and a pen and starts drawing ", then the door here in the living room" he must be making a map of the house "And of course, the front door.” He looks at the group, pointing at the paper "If we keep an eye on all of them, he can’t get in without us noticing” he continues drawing " I admit he has advantage with the forest all around us, but we can't change that” He finishes drawing and looks at the screen ". In this we are clearly in the majority." he taps the pen on the table "And we even have a weapon!"    "We still don't know who brought it!" I remember him.    Dan makes a dismissive gesture.    “Yeah, yeah, we can thank whoever it was later."    "That's not what I meant and you know it..."     Lilly gets up, starting to walk and out of my vision.    "Have you completely lost your mind, Dan?!" She yells at him nervously "Michael Hanson is a murderer!" Everyone looks at her, and I see how Jessy moves the phone so that I look at her " he is incredibly dangerous!"     Again, silence falls in the room. I notice that Jake has put a hand to his head listening to Lilly. The pressure we have right now is too much for everyone.    "And he always will be as long as he’s free" Dan begins to explain, in a much calmer tone. With Lilly he's always had a soft side, even though in the vote, he had to go against her. We're all together for the first time since this crap started. Some sighs are heard and I can see Lilly, hugging herself "We even know he's coming." right, change we're not going to be able to change that "Honestly? We’ve never been safer."     For a second try to see the positive side of the situation. But I'm still terrified knowing what he's capable of and I've seen it with Jessy and me.    "And he won't expect you to defend yourself." I commented, thinking a little about his plan.    “Exactly.” Dan replies.     Lilly stirs, returning to her place. Jessy returns my phone to the original position.    “I can't believe I'm about to say this, but…” Cleo sighs and looks at them all “Dan might be right."    “This is totally crazy.” I say, still fearing for them. For their lives.    "It’s crazy to keep running away" Dan leans across the table a little, explaining it to me ". Living in fear" I hear Jake stop typing, paying attention "and waiting for him to get us one by one” Jessy looks away from him, surely remembering when he go after her. Cleo remains thoughtful, surely because of the threats. Thomas seems focused, his motives being Hannah and saving her. Lilly… Lilly is a little undecided by the look on her face ". We've put up with this long enough. This is our chance to end it."
  Silence in the room. Complicit looks. Many breaths that began to calm down little by little. Dan looks at her, waiting for a response.    "Do you agree?" Dan looks at them one by one, looking for support.     I see Thomas nodding. Slowly.    “Yes” he says, in an unconfident voice ". I guess."    “More or less.” Jessy says uncertainly.    "Can we really do this?" Lilly looks at them all, not sure what to choose.    "Definitely!" Dan exclaims.     Lilly cringes on the spot, trying to figure out what to say. She sighs and nods.    “Okay” she finally says ". Then I suppose I'm in."    "Yeah, me too." Cleo admits, more determined.    "Macie?" Dan asks me.   They all look at me, waiting for my answer. I shake my head. I can't risk it. I don't want them to get hurt too.    “No” I finally say, looking at everyone "But this is entirely your decision” I look at Dan concerned “. Just promise me that you’ll come out of this alive."    "I'm here" he tries to keep me calm with his eyes "We're all going to be completely fine."     I nod slowly. Calmer.    "I trust your word."    "I won't let you down, little detective." he replies.   Jessy sighs, sinking back into the seat.    “Today almost felt like everything was back to normal again” she says slowly "I really had a lot of fun and for a while, I wasn’t thinking about the danger we were all in" She lowers her head for a second, staring at the table ". I had almost forgotten what it was like.” She looks up, looking at all of us "I want my old life back."    "You will, and we’ll make sure of that." Dan takes her hand, patting it lovingly. Then he looks at the rest. "We’re done running away.” He looks directly at me "We’re ending this tonight. Once and for all."    "Okay," I nod again "So, we'll talk to each other later."    “We'll talk later, Macie.” Jessy waves at me, and then Lilly.    I waved them and hung up. Leaving the phone in bed.
 I lie down on the bed bringing my hands to my face. This couldn't get any worse. I worry a lot about this situation. I don't know what the kidnapper is capable of.
*Jake POV*
Macie finishes talking and I get up from my chair to go to her. I sit next to her, placing my arms on my legs, looking at her.   “I do not know what to think of this” I say, wanting to comment on the conversation.   “This is the worst idea they've ever had” she says from under her hands, before pulling them away and looking at me "And you know what kind of ideas they usually have..."   "You do not need to remind me."    Macie sits up, spreading out the sweatshirt. She has not had time to clean herself up because of what happened, though I doubt that is the least of her worries right now.    "Up until now they always been defending themselves." I say and she looks at me, listening intently "Now they are changing their approach and forcing a direct confrontation."    “Suicide act, you mean.” Macie says to me, and I laugh.    "Well, I did not say it's a great idea either" I see her nod a little, unsure ". A sudden change of direction could be an immense tactical advantage. However, this current change is following an unexpected move on our enemy’s part."     Macie narrows her eyes, looking at me with a strange expression.    “Geek…” she says, sticking her tongue out at me.     I laugh. I know, I can speak a little strange for some.    "I am not the only one." I replied, imitating her.     Macie sighs, brushing her hair out of her face.    "You're right" she finally says, finally looking with another perspective ". We're just copying him.” I nod, and she falls back onto the bed "I still can't believe it."    "What has happened, has happened." I slowly laid down next to her, to look into her face "We cannot change it anymore.” I see her turn to look directly at me. In her eyes I can see that she is scared. Worried about them "What remains is for us to ask ourselves what other traps he may have set for us."     Macie takes my hand, entwining our fingers.   “I don't want anyone else to get hurt, Jake” she admits, breathing slowly ". I don't want them to get hurt, why don't he leave them alone?"   “I do not know, Macie” I says. Michael has already killed Amy and has Hannah kidnapped. He went for Richy and now for the rest of the group, just for getting us into his house. Actually, with Hannah he already has what he wants, the rest should not matter ". We are an obstacle to his end, is the only thing that occurs to me."   “I'm scared for them.” she asks me, snuggling closer to me.    "I know…" I can't keep ignoring the subject. I have to ask her "Why did not you tell me that Michael had contacted you?"     Macie blinks in confusion, until she understands what I am talking about. She slowly gets up, while I do it quickly.   "Jake..."   "Macie, why did you hide it?"    I see her start to bite her nails and I push her hands away from her. I do not like it when she does that, I feel like she hurts herself.
She looks into my eyes, and I see her mouth open slowly to speak. She closes it again, lowering her gaze.    “Because I wanted to deal with him myself” she says at the end "I thought it was for the best."    "You do not have to make decisions like those on your own." I force her to look at me, moving her face slowly. I do not know her true actions, but it hurts me that she kept it from me "We are a team, Macie."    "I know…"    “You told Michael you understood him."     She purse her lips into a fine line. I feel like she is holding something back. I wait for her to answer me, but she does not say anything.    "Macie?"    "That was a tactic, Jake" she finally says, looking at me calmly "I wanted to get him to talk to me” she smiles, a little pride in her eyes ". You have your methods and I have mine."     I suppose she is right about that. She is the one who has always taken it upon herself to talk to everyone for information until now. It's not weird, but...    “I understand” I say finally ". It was strange reading those words from you” I see that she avoids my gaze again, thinking again ". Very well. I have another lead that I must follow."     I try that at least the atmosphere is not tense between us. The last thing I want is for us to argue with each other because of Michael. Slowly, I bring her closer to me, kissing her lips slowly. Macie corresponds to me, bringing her hand to my hair, stroking it. I stroke her leg, moving up slowly.
 I should not be distracted from her even though I want to be with her like this.
 We pull apart and I hear her moan as I take my hand out from under the sweatshirt.    "I am so happy you are not in that house in the forest." I whispered, kissing her face.    "I'm glad I stayed too" she says, seeking my lips for another kiss, but shorter ". I'll go shower and get dressed before you give me further instructions, boss."    “Alright.” I see her get up from her and I stop her "You only need to hold out a little longer, Macie” I stroke her hand lovingly ". We are nearing the end of our path."     Macie nods, though as she leaves, I hear her mutter.    "Let's just hope you're not wrong…"
    I know. I know that she is worried about them. I know that I am to blame for her staying here. But now it's been the right thing to do. Michael almost killed her when she was at his house and who knows if what he wanted was to finish what he started.
 I get out of bed, slowly. I must find a way to locate Michael, to play in our favor and return it to him. A discreet way that can help us. I have to do it for Macie, so that she can be calm with her friends. I will work on everything she can and without rest.
Chapter 39 
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secretariatess · 5 months
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Arvek 43
            “Why did do you do that?!” Arvek cried.  He jumped off his horse and crouched next to Selim.  He was still breathing, but he was out cold, a welt on the side of his head where he had been hit that was bleeding.
            Arvek looked up at the guard, who sat frozen on his horse, his mouth open in horror.  Glae rode up behind him, taking a moment to assess the situation.  He dismounted and knelt next to Selim, checking him over.
            “Your Highness, I am so sorry!” the guard gasped.  “I did not realize who he was!”
            Arvek barely heard him.  When Glae joined him he had turned his attention back to Selim.
            “I think he will be alright, but we should get him medical care,” Glae said.  He straightened, getting a bearing of where they were.
            “That kidnapper went that way,” Arvek said sharply, pointing in the direction of where he had seen her go.
            “It would not be wise to chase her here, sir,” Glae informed him.
            Arvek shot him a glare.  Glae held up his hands defensively.
            “We are in Ranger territory,” he explained.  “And she has been extremely helpful to the Rangers. They will not take kindly to her being chased and arrested on their territory.”
            “They are aiding a kidnapper,” Arvek growled.
            “I understand, sir,” Glae said sympathetically.  “But we have Prince Selim. Your Highness, please, the better option right now would be to get him to the eighth village. It is not too far from here, we should be able to meet with Prince Cor, and the village is not in tatters.”
            Arvek wanted to argue.  He wanted that woman caught and held for her crimes.  However, Selim was in need of medical attention.  He looked back up at the guard, who was severely distressed for what he had done.
            “Go back to the village, and bring the others to the next village,” Arvek ordered him.  “Make sure Rasinod knows that it is essential for him to be timely. I will go with Glae.”
            “Yes, sir,” the guard replied.  “Again sir, I am so sorry-”
            “We don’t have time.”
            The guard nodded and headed out.  Glae picked up Selim and situated him on his own horse.
            “Wouldn’t it be better to use the one he was riding?” Arvek asked, reaching for the reins of the appaloosa Selim was on.
            “Sir, I wouldn’t,” Glae said.  “That’s a Ranger horse; it’ll find its way back home. They’re very particular about their horses.”
            The horses were apparently particular themselves.  Seeing Arvek’s hand reaching towards it, Selim’s horse flattened its ears and backed up.
            Arvek pulled his hand back and went to mount his horse.  Glae waited until he was secure in the saddle, then led the way to the eighth village.  Glae kept up a steady pace, not going too fast so he wouldn’t cause further harm to Selim.  He continuously glanced around, as though he was expecting something to happen.  Arvek wondered if it was perhaps the Rangers, and Glae did not want to be caught in the forest without their permission.  He glanced back a couple times himself, but it was more to see if he could catch a glimpse of that woman, Amelia.  He didn’t truly expect to see anything, as she would be long gone, but still.
            They were able to reach the final village before it was truly dark.  The sky had gone gray and the suns were sinking beneath the trees, but there was light enough to make their away around the village.  Glae stopped at the soldiers’ encampment to inquire about Cor’s whereabouts.  There they had found that Cor had been taken in by the soldiers and was staying in one of their small bunkhouses, as the tavern was now overrun with evacuees.  They were led to bunkhouse, being assured there was room there for all of them.
            The bunkhouse was made up of two rooms: The front room, which had a small living area and kitchen, and the back room, where all the beds were kept.
            When they entered, Cor was in the front room with a couple of the guards who had accompanied him.  He lit up when he saw Arvek, only for it to be dimmed by the shock of seeing Selim in Glae’s arms.  Nothing had to be said to Cor: As soon as he saw him, he ordered the guards with him to prepare a spot for Selim.
            “Rasinod should be on the way,” Arvek told Cor as he came over.
            “What happened?” Cor asked worriedly.
            “He was mistaken for an attacker,” Arvek explained.  “Glae is confident he will alright once he’s been attended to.”
            That did not ease all of Cor’s concern.  When Glae had rested Selim in the bed set up, Arvek and Cor entered the bunk room.  One of the guards held a scrap of clean cloth to Selim’s wound, staunching the bleeding.
            Arvek thought it would be a while before Rasinod or even the soldiers’ healer showed up, but he was surprised by the fact that Rasinod arrived not too long after Selim had been settled in.  He was red in the face, he was huffing and puffing, and he was laden with the contents of his cart, but he was there.  Arvek never thought he would be relieved to see the older healer, but that moment proved him wrong.
            “Move, move,” Rasinod panted, waving everyone out of the way with his elbow.  Behind him arrived the soldiers’ healer, carrying the rest of Rasinod’s things as well as some stuff from the soldiers’ stores.
            Rasinod collapsed into the chair next to Selim after the guard had dutifully vacated it.  He gripped Selim’s head with both hands and studied the wound carefully.  “I can handle this,” he huffed.  “But I want everyone out. I cannot do this with so many people hovering over me.”  Everyone went to follow his instructions, but he grabbed the soldiers’ healer.  “I didn’t mean you,” he growled.
            Once everyone had been shooed into the front room, the door was closed.  There was a silence before Cor said, “Well, welcome to the Veil.”
            Arvek grimaced.  Placing his hands behind his back, he began pacing in the kitchen.
            “I didn’t realize that you were going to come down here,” Cor remarked after another lengthy pause.  He settled himself into a chair.  “I thought you would have waited for my return or something. Fight with our father about the situation and all that.”
            “Rovyna offered to do that instead,” Arvek replied.
            “Oh, she did?”  Cor sounded pleased.  “Good woman, I say.”
            There was another pause.  Neither Cor’s guards nor Glae found it right to speak, and Arvek was too preoccupied to try an entertain them.
            Cor, on the other hand, was not satisfied with the lack of conversation.  “So, how are you enjoying the Veil so far?”
            Arvek scowled in response.
            “I figured you would have that reaction. I wasn’t particularly impressed with most of the commanders, and I’m certain most of them dismissed the order after I left.”  Cor caught sight of Glae.  “Except you, I think,” he said a little thoughtfully.  “But I think I caught you at the wrong time.”  He shrugged and continued, not letting Glae speak.  “Well, anyways, I go here, and just as I was preparing to leave, villagers from the seventh village began pouring in, telling us that the Rangers and soldiers were evacuating the village. No one was supposed to go in, but they didn’t have an explanation just yet.”
            “Has anything been explained since, sir?” Glae asked.
            “In full? Not really. It did become evident that things were serious when the smoke started rolling in.”
            “The whole village had to be burned down, sir,” Glae explained.  “Three corpse flowers were discovered in the village and the only way to effectively get rid of them was to burn everything.”
            Cor let out a low whistle, looking over at Arvek.  “Is there anything left standing?”
            Arvek and Glae shook their heads.
            Cor leaned back, eyebrows raised.  “Oh gosh.”  He had nothing more to say to that, leaving another heavy silence.
            When Cor found his tongue again, he asked, “So why exactly was Selim mistaken for an attacker?”
            “I saw his kidnapper,” Arvek said.  “A young healer helping out with the aftermath. I thought she recognize me, and when she got on a horse and took off, I realized she did.”
            “But the healer who kidnapped was old,” Cor said, screwing up his face in confusion.
            “I can’t explain that,” Arvek said, glancing at Glae, kind of hoping he would have something.
            “She likely had some magically crafted ointments or creams that would have helped disguise her," Glae said.  "They aren’t commonly found, but she probably has the skill to make it herself.”
            “Very convincing,” Cor noted.  “If that was the case. But you were essentially going off a hunch.”
            “Her name is Amelia,” Arvek said pointedly.
            The connection dawned on Cor slower than it did Arvek.  “Oooh. Well, dang. What luck, right? What happened after she took off?”
            “I gave chase. She went off into the forest, and I almost caught up to her. But then . . .”  He gestured to the room where Rasinod was attending to Selim.  “Well, he showed up. Stopped me from chasing her. He had his back turned and got hit by one of the guards.”
            Cor blinked several times.  “Wait, he stopped you from chasing her?”
            Arvek nodded.
            “Why . . . why would he do that? Why would he defend the woman who kidnapped him?”
            Arvek stopped his pacing, realizing that that question had not occurred to him.  He was just too caught up in the moment of seeing Selim again that he did not think about the fact that Selim had come to Amelia’s defense.  “I . . . I don’t know,” he said, his voice faltering.  He looked at Glae again, hoping he would have another explanation.
            This explanation took longer for Glae to lay out than the first one.  “Well,” he said hesitantly.  “The thing that comes to my mind is the use of an obsession potion.”
            “A what?” Arvek ask, furrowing his brow.
            “An obsession potion, sir,” Glae repeated.  “Sometimes known as love potions, but it’s an inaccurate name, as it’s not really love. But it would make him obsessed with her if she made it, and he would do things he wouldn’t otherwise do for her sake.”
            Arvek felt the blood drain from his face.  “Oh suns,” was all he could say.
            “It shouldn’t last long, sir,” Glae said hurriedly.  “Thirty hours, I believe.”
            “What if it lasts longer than that?” Cor asked, bewildered.
            “Well, sir, if your healer is familiar with magic, I would consult with him,” Glae advised.  “I only have random knowledge here and there because of my mother’s profession, but I confess, it was not something I really took interest in.”  He paused.  “Sirs, I’m not saying it is. I am saying it’s a possibility.”
            Arvek was not reassured.  He resumed his pacing, feeling slightly sick.  Nothing more was said as they waited for Rasinod to complete his work.
            When he and the soldiers’ healer came out, he was drying his hands.  The soldiers’ healer dismissed himself and exited the building.  Looking around, Rasinod raised an eyebrow at all the grim expressions.  “He will be alright,” Rasinod said.  “Concussed, yes, but his life is not in danger.”
            This alleviated nothing of the atmosphere.
            “A little rest, and he should be fine,” Rasinod insisted.  “He should take things easy for a while, but there really is no need to worry.”
            Arvek stopped pacing again.  “Our concern now is more about why Selin defended his kidnapper."  He swallowed.  “Do you know anything about obsession potions?”
            “Do you believe that be to the cause?” Rasinod asked.
            “It was only a suggestion,” Glae said quickly.
            Rasinod didn’t appear to hear him.  He rubbed his chin, thinking it over.  “It’s certainly plausible. We will have to wait and see.”  He added sternly, “If an obsession potion is the suspect cause, we must be careful about believing anything he says, though. He will say almost anything to try and convince others that what he feels for the giver of the potion is real and true.”
            “So are we just to not take seriously anything he says for the next thirty hours?” Cor asked, his expressions saying he wasn’t completely on board.
            “Not everything,” Rasinod answered.  “If you keep him off the topic of his kidnapper, that will help. Just embrace that you have him back. “Now, sirs, if you would excuse me, I want to make sure the cart and horse are taken care of. I will return shortly.”  He headed out of the bunkhouse.
            Glae turned to Arvek, waiting for instruction.
            “You may go,” Arvek told him.  There were still many things that he wanted to do, such as setting up a meeting with the Rangers’ captain in order to demand answers and action, but not now.  It had been an exhausting day, and he wasn’t even done yet.
            Glae nodded and strode out of the bunkhouse.  The door had barely shut behind him when Arvek and Cor entered the back room to sit by Selim’s side.
            Finally, Arvek could take the time to survey Selim’s appearance.  While the patched up injury certainly didn’t do him favors, he overall looked well.  He even seemed like he had gained some muscle, baffling as that was.  Kidnapping aside, it appeared that Amelia at least had taken good care of him.  Not that he would thank her for that.
            Arvek and Cor didn’t say anything to each other.  They only watched and waited, as though Selim could wake at any moment.
            While they were waiting, Rasinod returned.  He swept into the bunk room, glancing from Cor and Arvek.  “It would be better if the two of you rested, sirs,” he told them sternly.  “I’ve put him to sleep so he wouldn’t wake during the procedure, and so he could sleep through the rest of the night.”
            It was hard to argue with Rasinod after he had just saved Selim.
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Gosh golly I’m so over the moon with your writing! Could I by chance ask for more of the Hero that protected the Villain’s sidekick? Maybe something with both adults discussing who well the teens handled themselves during it all or a good old fashioned ‘enemy tending their rival’s wounds’?
part 1
“I really can’t thank you enough,” the villain mumbled for the umpteenth time. As much as the hero had been surprised about the villain’s wrath, they were just as intrigued by the villain’s gentle hands.
The teenagers had decided to play video games in the villain’s lair and the hero couldn’t deny how jealous they were. They wanted video games at their base too—
“Really, I…They’re like family to me. They’re like my sister’s kid or something. I don’t know what I would have done if they…”
“Yeah, pff. A few broken bones are part of the job. I took them gladly for your sidekick,” the hero looked at the two sidekicks shouting at each other while they stared at the display of the TV.
When their eyes found the villain again, theirs were already fixed on the hero.
“I would rather drive you to the hospital. You look awful. And you are bleeding internally.” The villain took the hero’s hand — also broken — and slowly wrapped the bandages around their bruised fingers. “I know you’ll say know. You have all those guidelines and rules. But I cannot give you the medical care you need.”
“Maybe you can heal me with the power of friendship.”
“Fuck you.”
The hero grinned and thankfully, the villain tried to hide their smile too. An embarrassing silence settled on them and the hero didn’t know if they should let their face relax from the grin yet. The villain saved them the same way they had saved them a few hours ago.
With rawness.
“Why did you sacrifice yourself, though? You didn’t have to. God, the kid isn’t an angel. They can be so fucking annoying at times. So, why?” the villain asked.
The hero didn’t feel like laughing anymore.
“They wouldn’t have deserved it.”
“That’s it?” No. That wasn’t it. It was easy, god, it was so easy for the hero to hide behind humour. To make a terrible joke and light up the mood. To make someone smile even though their punchlines were bad. So, getting questions like these, ripped open ancient wounds that had healed messily. It poked at annual bruises.
“I lost my first sidekick,” the hero eventually confessed. “He was around the same age they are now.”
They nodded towards the teenagers.
“I lost him on a mission and swore to never get assigned to another one. But my agency had other plans. I wanted to quit the program but they didn’t let me.”
The villain had stopped with their fine handiwork. They looked the hero up and down as if they were an entirely new person.
“I didn’t mean to force you to talk about it,” they whispered. The only sounds came from the sidekicks playing their video game. “I’m sorry.”
“I guess something — some protector instinct kicked in. I didn’t get to save my sidekick. They were beaten to death. And I thought I wouldn’t wish that upon my worst enemy.” The villain was studying them and it made the hero’s heart ache to be examined like that. To be examined like the broken thing they still were. “I just saw the metal pipe the kidnappers wanted to use and thought about how I found him, I—”
The hero swallowed. The mantra don’t cry don’t cry shot through their brain. They weren’t allowed to break. They were the lighthearted one. The funny one.
They squeezed their eyes shut and forced a smile. It felt like betraying him.
“I’d do it again. I’d sacrifice myself for our sidekicks anytime.”
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arguablysomaya · 3 years
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batfam fanfics that don't have enough fucking attention
alright i'm finally doing it gents listen up
1. Bang, bang by @Ididloveyou_once
Summary: ‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’
Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then-
‘Don’t tell Bruce.’
Or: The family enjoy a normal movie night. Except Jason has a gunshot wound and Tim’s the only one who knows and oh- that’s because Tim’s the one who shot him and they really, really need to find a way to leave before anyone finds out.
This fic is fucking hilarious and the characterization + banter is on point. i have a bit of a soft spot for schemes <3
2. four brothers, one crush, and absolutely zero braincells to be found by @Ms_Trickster
Summary: Tim: i need to know what’s the best way to a boy’s heart
Damian: Easy. The best way to someone’s heart is through their ribcage. Everyone knows that.
Damian: Come on Timothy, I expected better from you.
Dick: I-
Dick: Try again
Tim is having boy troubles.
Tim goes to his brothers for help.
Tim...did not think that plan of action through.
(In which the batbros give Tim advice on relationships, told entirely through texts.)
Again, fucking hilarious. the chat titles are SUCH a nice touch and it really feels like authentic sibling silliness
3. Night at the (National) Museum by @collectivefandomstuff
Summary: Tim finds himself having, once again, been dragged into the social event of the season. As he slowly dies of boredom and the physical exertion of not rolling his eyes, he bumps into his fellow prisoners brothers and they decide to do something about Bruce’s tendency to trick them into going to these things. More specifically, they decide to cause as much trouble as possible in the hopes that Bruce will just straight up stop inviting them. [cue mission impossible theme]
“We could call in a bomb threat?”
“That’s imaginative.”
“Ok, then we get paintball guns and go to town.”
“Also unhelpful.”
“No, wait! That’s actually a good idea!”
“Really Dick? You don’t think people are going to ask questions if the Waynes start literally hunting socialites for sport?”
I. Love. Schemes. also the writing style is so good omg if i could write like this i'd literally die happy lmao
4. Cingulomania (Sometimes, Dad Needs a Hug) by @charleswaterloo
Summary: ‘Right,’ Tim said, in the voice he used on missions, ‘we’re going to have to call in an expert.’
*
‘Hey guys!’ Dick said, voice slightly crackly over Tim’s phone speakers. ‘What’s up? I’m not supposed to visit until tomorrow - is something wrong?’
-
Something is seriously not right with Bruce. They’re a family of detectives and no one can figure it out. It’s kind of embarrassing.
They’re all starting to get worried.
-
(Sometimes, Bruce needs a hug.)
ok this fic is just really fucking sweet and sometimes a bitch is soft okay?
5. After the Fall of Olympus by @/killthespare
Summary: The League has fallen. The team is dead. All that’s left is for Dick Grayson to pick up the pieces and move forward.
Easier said than done.
this fic is literally a must-read in the dc fandom it's not done yet but holy shit. basically goes through young justice and other arcs if the league had died while dick was robin. perfect if you liked young justice and convoluted plotlines, and this fucking fic kicked my emotional ass SO hard
6. And The World Came Crashing Down by @One_annoying_bird
Summary: When Dick and three of his siblings find themselves within the wreckage of a collapsed building, Dick makes the executive decision for himself to be rescued last.
Even if his injuries really demand for him to be first.
Not that he'll let anyone know that last bit.
Fuck me dude. i'm always a sucker for whump
7. Asimov's Integral by @sElkieNight60
Summary: Tim is an unwanted android, a Robo-Child. After being sent back by his parents, his last and only hope rests in the hands of a man still grieving the loss of his own son.
“I didn’t ask for a replacement,” Bruce barked. “I don’t want a replacement! You can go back and tell the RCO I don’t need a replacement.”
Bruce Wayne didn’t want him. If Bruce Wayne didn’t want him, he’d be sent back and dismantled.
this one hurt me <3 android AU, tw for tim absolutely abysmal mental state and attempted suicide
8. Midnight Book Club by @badwolf36
Summary: “Dick is a lying liar who lies,” Jason declares, drawing his knees up to his chest. His ribs are screaming in that very special way that lets him know at least one or more is bruised (or, more likely, cracked).
“Dick wasn’t the only one who turned you in.” Cass says, now tracing ‘moron’ onto his forehead. “Also, Alfred.”
___________
Cass and Jason discuss books as they wait for Jason to be able to stand up after taking a brutal hit.
this one's a really sweet, quiet piece about jason and cass's relationship (which i absolutely love) and cass's characterization is spot on perfect
9. You fuck with them, you fuck with me by @oclark1226
Summary: When Batman's out of the country for Justice League business, it falls on Dick to find his missing brothers. Once he does, however, he nearly loses control fighting their kidnapper. He has to deal with both the mental and physical consequences of that fight while helping his brothers heal. Includes some soft Bruce tending to both of his eldest boys because they need some hugs and they support him in return.
now this one is simply criminally underrated. hella protective dick, which is my lifeblood, and some of the most well-written hurt/comfort i've read
10. Conflict Resolution by @anicomicqueen
Summary: It started off as a quiet Sunday morning, until Timothy and Damian decided to take their argument outside.
who would i be if i didn't end off with some fluff?? this fic is literally catharsis and i cherish it so much plus its hilarious
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astaroth1357 · 4 years
Text
Demon Brothers React to MC Getting Kidnapped by Lesser Demons.
Watch out for minor first half spoilers!!
Lucifer
Kicking himself because he has to find out through Mammon that the MC is missing and he didn’t notice their absence himself.
The second the alarm gets raised he gets into a state somewhere between coldly rational and extraordinarily furious. 
Definitely still level-headed enough to rally and organize his brothers for a search party but there's nothing but seething rage just rolling off of him the entire time. Probably-could-have-made-another-Satan type rage.
How well he keeps his composure will be based entirely on how long the MC is MIA. The first hour or so will be mostly put together but past that he'll start to slowly unravel as the panic takes hold.
At one point he even gets snippy with Diavolo over the phone and that's when you KNOW that he's reaching meltdown mode.
If he's the first to find the MC, his #1 priority is to get them away from whatever scum grabbed them and take them to the closest safe place he can find. He'd scoop them up so fast they won't even know where he came from, just whoosh! How'd I get on this roof??
Only once they're out of harm’s way will he circle back and deal with their kidnappers personally. You better be sure any damage done to his human will be reflected a thousandfold back onto their attackers. Probably coming back to the MC with some blood on him and is not going to care.
Relieved to have the MC back but restricts them from going out alone after a certain time now for their own good. If they need something that badly, they can come to him.
Also strings Mammon up by his toes that night for losing them in the first place.
"By the time Cerberus gets to you, I'll be sure you're only my table scraps…"
Mammon
The first to notice that the MC was being oddly quiet (thank their father for his text spamming habit) then found their stuff scattered and abandoned at RAD.
Told Lucifer right away and, oh boy, he is a mess: talking a mile a minute, punctuating his sentences with expletives, on the verge of tears, whole nine yards.
He left his human alone for what?? Like five minutes, if even, to go to the library and get themselves kidnapped?! What kind of guardian is he?!?
Already searching the place top-to-bottom without being told where to go or what to do.
He actually ends up a strange inverse of Lucifer. While Lucifer will start panicking more over time, Mammon will start panicking less as his fear escalates to all out anger. Give it a few hours and he’s not even going to be able to keep his demon form under control anymore.
You know this boy is legging it across the entire Devildom himself waving around some kind of hand-drawn "Have You Seen This Human?" flyer looking for any leads at all.
If he were to find the MC first, his first action would probably be to plant his foot right in the face of whoever took them. Hard. Then repeat until their skull’s a caved-in mess on floor. No mercy this time, just pure protective rage.
Following the fight, you'd think he was just reunited with his lost puppy. Lots of crying, hugging, and blubbering out apologies even when the rest of his brothers show up.
Would pretty much be glued to the MC's hip for at least a week afterward and makes more of a point to hang off of them in public now. They're his human after all, can't have anyone else getting the idea of pulling a stunt like that again.
"MC!! What'd ya go runnin' off for?? We're goin' home after I take out this trash, got it!!"
Leviathan 
Wouldn't really want to believe it at first because it just feels too unreal, like, the same thing happened to Henry in Episode 86 of TSL when he was kidnapped by enemies of the Lord of Fools and it was up to his true friend to track him down…
Suddenly remembers that Henry was also tortured while he was taken and that really sets in the panic.
Unsure of how to help at first because he knows he's just a useless shut-in but Belphie of all people is the one to remind him that he does have one big advantage over his brothers: a fucking navy.
In an act of surprising backbone, he more or less demands a full fleet of ships from Diavolo and (honestly to his shock) he gets exactly that to comb the Devil’s Sea while looking for MC. Lotan even helps out!
If he were to be the first to find the MC (presuming they are indeed on a boat or something cause 🤷‍♀️) those kidnappers really shouldn't have challenged the third strongest brother in his natural element, eh? Those who aren't automatically lashed in the face or flung overboard by his tail get hung by the leg over the edge of the ship for Lotan to pick off one by one.
Sails back to shore with MC booming with pride that he of all people finally got to be their hero! Will literally be so happy if MC ever brings it up again, doesn't matter how much time has passed.
Things would settle back to normal pretty quickly after that, but he now checks up on the MC a lot more often and will even leave his room for them if they need to go somewhere and don't want to go alone. Can't have this turning into a rerun, you know?
"You hurt my only friend… So drown."
Satan
One guess how the Avatar of Wrath took the news. It's not swimmingly.
Unless your definition of "swimmingly" is a murderous rampage of toppling furniture, breaking windows, and swearing to curse right about anything that moves, in which case aptly put. 
He gets stuck in an anger-induced tantrum for a bit before finally getting snapped back into coherent thought by Belphie and putting those mystery novels of his to good use. Smart boi takes second to Lucifer himself in the search, suggesting good locations for his brothers scout based on what clues they have to go on.
Of course, he's not content to just to call orders from the sidelines and is out searching himself like he's on the goddamn warpath. Doors? Who needs doors? If anything the hole I made in your wall is more efficient.
Should he be the first to find the MC he would coolly and methodically subdue any kidnapper he can get his hands on, release his human, and bring them home as soon as possible. They've been through quite enough today and don't need to see anything he's got planned for the bastards later.
But the second that Diavolo puts them in the castle dungeon, you best bet that Henry 1.0 is going to the LEAST of their worries. Who's ever wanted to play a life or death game of hide and seek with a giant snake and the incarnation of Wrath itself? First one caught gets the "quick" death! Any volunteers?
Might give the MC a mild scolding for going out when they shouldn't have but otherwise is just happy to see them back and safe. May act extra soft towards them for a couple days, just until the nerves of the situation finally wear off.
"Don't mistake this for mercy. I assure you, I don't know the meaning of the word."
Asmodeus
Highkey freaking out, like, almost as hysterical as Mammon when he hears the news. 
Being the Avatar of Lust, he of course knows there's a whole lot of creeps out there in the world and he is utterly terrified that his poor MC has fallen victim to one at that moment.
For once, all thoughts of himself and his looks are out the window. What? It's past 2am and MC is still gone? I can stay up another hour! Dry shampoo and a washcloth counts as a shower, right? Who the fuck cares, where's MC?? Somebody find them already!!
Pools his contact list with Satan's and starts reaching out across the whole Devildom asking for people to be on the lookout and offer tips. Also begs Solomon to use his magic to help in the search (which he's more than happy to do anyway because he cares about the MC too)
If he were to find MC first it'd be one of those rare cases where he'd be seen really truly enraged. No cute banter, no playful flirting, just telling those worthless scum-vats exactly where they belong and exactly how he's going to put them there. Is it any surprise that he's also madsick with a whip?
Crazy relieved that MC is free, but now it's on them to help him clean up and get back to his prettiest self. I mean, he worried himself half to death while they were gone! All this dirt and sweat going to take three, no four, bathes to fully clean off!! Best hop to it~♡
"Touch them one more time and I'm going to set fire to whatever landfill trash like you crawls out of!!"
Beelzebub
It can't be happening. It honestly can't be happening. First he loses Lilith and now MC?? He can't lose two. He. Can't. Lose. Two.
Pretty much the mantra going through his head as he tears the Devildom apart with his bare hands. 
It's 1000x worse than how he gets when he's hungry because at least then he might stop when he finally gets fed. Now it's either find MC or wait until he collapses from exhaustion and hope he doesn’t leave the whole realm a smoldering crater before he gets that far.
There's no reasoning with him either, the best the brothers can do is steer him in a direction and let him loose.
If he found MC first he probably wouldn't even realize it for a bit, he'd just keep attacking whatever or whoever is in front of him on his path of blind destruction. It'd take the MC literally flinging themselves at him or throwing their arms around him to snap him out of it but then it's back to sweetheart Beel.
Hugs ensue. Really tight hugs. Probably a few tears and apologies too (even if it’s not really his fault at all). 
Woe to anyone who tries going for the MC once he’s sure he has them because they WILL be broken then eaten. He’ll encourage his human not to look, but some things just have to be done.
Would absolutely carry MC back home and refuse to put them down until the others force him to. The floor may as well be lava planning on taking them away from him too.
Wouldn't care as much about personal vengeance as his brothers as long as MC is safe. He'll trust that his family will more than punish the kidnappers (though chances are he already took a chunk or two out of a few of them during his rampage anyway).
Protective instincts up by 100 after this, though Belphie usually steps in and eases him back a bit when he's about to get suffocating. MC never travels without a buddy now, ever. He just can't risk it.
"MC, I-I'm sorry… I just couldn’t lose you too…"
Belphegor
Keeps the coolest head of all the brothers on the outside, but there's a cold fury building up in those eyes.
Pretty much takes charge of whipping everyone back into gear with a combination stinging remarks and heavy duty guilt tripping. May not be the nicest method, but it's effective. 
"Asmo, grow a freaking spine and do something useful for a change! Mammon, this your fault to start with so you ought to be breaking your ass to find them! Satan, watching you is getting embarrassing, pull yourself together and think like you're good at it!"
His harshest criticisms get saved for Lucifer (big shock) but he only dishes them out when he sees his older brother really losing his grip or teetering on losing hope. If the “mighty firstborn” can’t keep it together then why should they even listen to him in the first place?
When he's not administering "motivation," he's keeping tabs on Beel's progression through the Devildom and trying to minimize the damage there. He's the only one that can get through to him long enough to change his course if necessary.
If he were to find the MC first, well, unlike Satan he doesn't have the forethought to save the torture for later. It's happening right here, right now, and you better bet that being the last born doesn't stop him from being a force to be reckoned with.
Waits with the MC for his brothers to catch up to them and deal with any stragglers. May cuddle with them and look like he's trying to take a nap in the meantime, but in truth he's still very alert, on edge, and ready to absolutely wreck shit if anything gets too close to them.
Though it doesn't look like his lazy ass goes through the same protective streak as his brothers, he's a lot quicker to try and convince the MC to stay home now. No out and about=less chance of getting nabbed. Plus he keeps his favorite pillow, win-win. 😏
"What about your worthless lives makes you think you deserve my mercy??"
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mittensmorgul · 3 years
Note
So, Signs that 15x20 isn't real: El Sol beer; warm, saturated lighting; Dean's choice of clothes. Signs the writers were silenced: cut-out-tongue-vampire-thing. Sign it's about sexual repression: Vampires! Sign it's all about the gay: Dean was nailed from behind. Anything else to add to that list of symbols? Because this looks like the writers winking SOS at us in a kidnapper's video.
oh gosh... I keep meaning to rewatch the finale and make a full list of it all, because this is tip of the iceberg stuff. But I just... heck I just don’t want to watch it again :’D
That rewatch is on the agenda, and I’m currently watching 15.09 on the eternal loop. According to the TNT schedule, they’re showing 15.20 on Tuesday, looping directly back to the pilot immediately afterward. So... if I do decide to watch that (and I haven’t decided yet), that’s... gonna be some wild whiplash...
But anyway, back to the question!
You have a pretty good list going there...
I’ll add these things that made the episode feel like not-a-finale:
-no Road So Far segment, or even any sort of “important moments from the last 15 years that brought us to this point” sort of montage/retrospective of their lives
-no Carry On Wayward Son at the beginning, but TWO versions of it back to back at the end
And these things that were just general wtf moments for me:
-Sam? cooking breakfast? since when does Sam make breakfast, ever? that’s Dean’s thing
-Dean, with a dog? since when has Dean ever wanted a dog? That’s Sam’s thing
-Dean makes his bed, and it looks messier when he’s done than before he started (this is... not Dean-like... I actually went back and checked previous shots of his room)
-they never, not once in the episode, act like they have even one (1) single friend or any sort of goal or direction in life, which is weird...
-apparently they’d been unable to find a hunt, making it seem like the supernatural world had been quiet (for a moment I thought maybe monsters were no longer a problem in a post-Chuck world), until they stumbled on a hunt out of nowhere after choosing to go to a pie festival... as if the moment they chose to do something to move on and just have fun, suddenly there was work for them to do and they immediately abandoned everything to hunt these mystery monsters from John’s journal, which turned out to be a trap for them (specifically for them? considering the rando s1 vampire seemed to have lured them there?)
-The fact Dean recognized this vampire he never even interacted with and somehow magically knew her name, despite it never having been stated in canon and, again, Dean never having interacted with her outside of watching her escape with the vampire who actually DID bear them a grudge from 1.20...
-the weird lingering close up shot of the rebar during the fight scene
-the invocation of “destiny” and “don’t have a choice” as they went into a freaking pie festival... this hits bad right now because I’m rewatching 15.09 in the background as I type this, and it was almost word for word what the Dean in Chuck’s vision of the future said to Sam as they resigned themselves to go off on their final hunt (which was vampires btw), which they lost because in the next scene Sam and Dean have become vampires and are both killed... so like... this was Chuck’s story. The trappings might’ve been different, but it was still fundamentally the same... Cas locked away in a terrible place (ma’lak box in Chuck’s story, Empty in Dabb’s), Dean resigned to his fate because of a vampire hunt gone bad.
-then the pie festival itself... Dean’s got a huge tray with half a dozen different varieties he’s excited to try (purchased from Dabb’s Pies...), is eager to taste them all (like... metaphorically trying out different “apple pie life” ending scenarios, because he’s finally free to explore and maybe he actually wants the pecan pie life...), but before he can even taste the first bite, Sam... chooses one and smashes it in Dean’s face.
-even weirder, Dean never once in the episode says Cas’s name, or seemed even once to give a dang about Cas at all... and handwaved it when Sam mentioned Cas and Jack. It had been like... days, on screen (if they’d intended for more time to have passed, they would’ve indicated that on screen, and they did not... they showed us MAYBE three days passing since the events of 15.19). So like... did Dean have a personality transplant or what. Sam says Cas’s name in the ep, Bobby says it in Heaven. Dean... never does. Which is weird, considering how many times he’s said Cas in canon over the years, to the point it’s literally become memes...
-jumping around a bit here, but why Masked Vampires? Why had John failed to figure out they were vampires originally? Because he believed vampires were extinct? because he hadn’t been told they existed at all yet when he’d confronted them in 1986? Was John suddenly just A Bad Hunter after years of canon reinforcing that he was actually a really good hunter?
-and why THIS WEIRD CONGLOMORATION OF JOHN-RELATED CASE NONSENSE? From his journal to the murder clowns to rando vampire from their first vamp hunt? It’s like the perfect storm of erasing the last 15 years just to “bring it back to the start” to end it all like it could’ve had this been s1 still.
-speaking of John, and the El Sol in Heaven... WHY would Bobby hand Dean “John’s Beer” in Heaven? Especially since Dean expressed the fact that he didn’t even like it? Like... why wouldn’t he have been handed a beer he actually ENJOYED in Paradise? Why force a John Beer on him when he could literally have anything he wanted?
-and why was Heaven for Dean, in a place where he could literally have anything he wanted, go anywhere and do anything, why was he just driving through the woods along back roads? After years of talking about how he wanted to go “toes in the sand,” take a vacation, go fishing, or even finally get to eat a piece of pie? Or like ANYTHING he’d talked about wanting to do over the years that he never had a chance to... but apparently the thing he’d arguably spent the most time during his life doing is the only thing he wanted to do now that every possibility was open to him? Yeah, no that’s stupid...
-Tree (the final shot of 15.04 with bobblehead Sam and Dean by the tree like they didn’t have a thought of their own, Chuck’s plastic figurines dancing on his orders, very much like where they randomly parked and had the “vamp mime” conversation)
-Dean casually resorting to the threat of torture after YEARS of the show condemning this choice. Dean gratuitously being “a killer” when his acceptance of the fact that that’s not who he was in the previous episode was literally the thing that defeated Chuck... like... this was entirely stupid...
-just... the pacing of the episode was so weirdly wonky, with random cuts and no sense of time passing anywhere, nor interconnectedness between scenes, and the weirdly uncomfortable interminable death scene. Like, it looked like the death scene of a soap opera heroine. It was upsetting when Dean hit the spike and realized what had happened, but then he just... lingered... dangling on the hook for Sam’s benefit. Like Dean was nothing more than set decoration like a framed portrait for Sam to hang up and walk away from. Which is weird... and stupid... Dabb knows how to do pacing, and it’s like he forgot everything he ever knew about writing to force this “good way to die” trope, as if the previous 15 years of the show hadn’t been spent denouncing (and Dean finally overcoming) this mindset of “I always knew I’d go down swinging” or whatever. WHY. IT WAS STUPID.
-Wig
there’s probably more, but I’m tired and have reached my daily limit for the wtf of this episode >.>
Anyone else, please feel free to add more.
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deniigi · 3 years
Text
hi I have something for y’all called a disaster.
I wrote an Inimitable!Spiderman/Modern Star Wars AU because no one can stop me, not even myself. it is like 47 pages long. I am handing it tenderly to y’all.
--------------
Title: impossible scenario
Summary: Peter runs into some drunk assholes arguing, calling each other Han and Luke. He lets it roll off him until he can’t anymore and eventually finds himself for the first time on the other side of someone more chaotic than himself.
------------
There was an argument happening under a fire escape. Peter knew about it because a concerned dude wearing a fuckin’ Yankees cap had flagged him down with waving arms and told him that someone needed saving, Spiderman. Some tall asshole was kidnapping a young blond dude, the guy  and his too-cool-for-him girlfriend explained. They’d heard the two scuffling.
Peter maybe stared for a beat too long at them because the gal pointed two blocks behind him and said, “That way. I think the blond guy might be drugged. He’s slurrin’ something strong.”
Peter liked her shoes. They looked like Miles’s, but blue.
“Spidey?”
Miles told Peter all the time that he wasn’t cool enough to wear Jordans. MJ and Johnny had agreed. Such sad times.
“Spidey.”
“I got it,” Peter sighed.
The gal tsked.
“Man, you’re too young to be this jaded,” she said.
Peter sighed.
“You’re the third person to say that this week,” he said. “You think I should go back to therapy?”
There was a pause.
“You know that answer, dude,” cool-gal said. “Go save the twink.”
Twink. Got it. Thank you, citizen.
“There are websites for that shit, Spidey.”
Bye now.
“Apps, even.”
Bye, bye.
“BetterHelp or Headspace or somethin’—”
“Two blocks, you said?” Peter asked.
 --
 Two blocks away, there was indeed a man with dark hair trying to lift a violently intoxicated twink up onto the first steps of a fire escape. Peter examined his options. There were many ways to ruin a potential kidnapper’s day. His favorite involved coke and mentos, although he’d received feedback that that was a waste of perfectly good food. Down the list was also the option to walk over and scream bloody murder so that the kidnapper shat themselves and dropped their target.
That was good, but Peter was tired and the thought of mustering up the energy to scream at a noticeable volume made his thighs turn to Jell-o.
That left snark and violence.
Today, he would not choose violence. Only for today.
He strode out of his dark temporary residence between two dumpsters directly towards the tall dude and his mark. The mark was a messy one. Bless his heart, he was unwittingly making himself the most noncompliant victim to have ever victim-ed. Every time the tall guy got him almost vertical, he gave up his corporeal form to become drunk slime and ooze back to the ground with various moaning sound effects.
It would have been funny if not for the kidnapping context.
The fact that Peter had been standing there under the beams of two separate side-building security lights and neither of those two had noticed yet was also objectively funny—or would have been, if Peter had the capacity for processing humor at the moment.
Alas. This was what he got for telling Tony that he’d evolved beyond the need for sleep. He got caffeine-pilled. And there would be no true rest until that shit wore off, exhausted as Peter’s body yearned to be.
“Kid, work with me here,” the tall guy said.
“I can’t, I’ll die,” the shorter one moaned.
“Luke.”
“I’ve done my time—thirty years in AZKA—”
“Keep your voice down, oh my god.”
Peter was just standing here, fellas.
“Luke.”
“Why’s it always me? Why’s it always gotta be me? The hell did I do to piss off the whole galax-galaxy? HA. My bad, my bad. The whole universe?”
God, what a mood.
The tall guy dropped his grip on the smaller one and loomed over his puddle of ooze with poison in his gaze.
“People are going to die, Luke,” he said.
“So what? They’re always dyin’. Everywhere I go, people’re dyin’ and when it’s not them dyin’, you know who is?”
“Kid.”
“ME.”
“So you’re just gonna wallow there, feelin’ sorry for yourself?” the tall dude snapped.
“Sure am,” the puddle of ooze hummed.  
This was not a kidnapping. This was a come-to-Jesus in the back alley of a bar. Peter was not needed here. He turned around on his heel and stopped when he heard a sharp intake of breath.
“Is that?” someone whispered.
“Don’t mind me, pal, just your friendly neighborhood—” he started.
“Look what you did,” Tall and Handsome hissed at Ooze-Man. “Someone went and called Spiderman on us.”
Peter lifted a brow as Ooze-man ripped its chest up from the asphalt and composed itself back into a human shape with fluffy blonde hair and huge wide eyes.
“Omigod, it’s Spiderman,” the guy said. “Wait, no. Gimme a hand. No, not that one, fuck off, nevermind, I don’t need you.”
He drew himself up to standing, only leaning slightly on his buddy there and gave Peter as lopsided smile.
“Hi, there,” he said with a twang that Peter couldn’t place. “Were you lookin’ for someone, handsome?”
Ah, they had reached the time of night when all the drunks needed to tell Peter things he already knew about his ass. He loved this time.
Not to mention that this dude looked eerily like Johnny. Scarily like Johnny. So much like Johnny that Peter almost wanted to take a picture of him to send to Sue so that she could print up some lost and found posters.
“Just lookin’ at you, babe,” he said. “This guy botherin’ you?”
The tall guy blanched and then grabbed at his face in horror. Peter swallowed his laugh.
“He sure is, hon. You got time to rescue me?” Blondie crooned.
“Luke, please. Please.”
“Because I’m in real distress,” ‘Luke’ said with a pout mighty enough to fell Thor.
“You sure seem like it,” Peter said. “C’mere. I’ll walk you home. Leave that tool, he ain’t worth your breath.”
He held out an elbow like proper gentleman and was pleased at the hand that Luke laid over his heart in response.
Peter could imagine Johnny’s face in six different expression of jealous horror at a selfie taken with this look-alike. Each was beautiful in its own special way. As payment for being referred to counseling by the public, he at least deserved to receive at least two of those faces.
“You mean that?” Luke asked him.
“He doesn’t,” his tall companion said.
“I sure do, where do you live? I’ll walk you,” Peter said.
“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry, he’s gonna escort me,” Luke said, all choked up and fanning his eyes lightly.
This tall friend grabbed him before he could escape, though, and pulled him back behind his own body.
“Listen, Spidey, this is a misunderstanding,” he drawled. “I know this idiot—he is technically my idiot— and I’m the one escorting his ass home. Thanks, though. You’re a real menace. Beat it.”
MMMMMMM.
And here Peter had been planning on being jaded and miserable this fine night. How could he now when this dude was ticking every box that made him feel alive?
“What’s your name, dollface?” Peter asked across the short distance.
“None of your business,” Tall Guy answered abruptly.
“Luke,” Luke said around him. “Are you gonna save me?”
“In just a minute,” Peter said, striding forward with a hard roll in his shoulder and deep drop in his knees.
It was amazing how Tall Guy wanted to take some steps back all of the sudden. Peter couldn’t help but let a smirk widen his face as he advanced.
“Okay, hang on now,” Tall Guy said with both palms out in front of him. “You don’t know what this is about, Spidey. You don’t want to get involved with this, trust me. He’s just bein’ dramatic. No need to get testy.”
“You sure do a lot of talkin’ for your friend there,” Peter noted through his grin.
“Yeah, Han,” Luke said.
Ha.
Han. Han and Luke. Ned was gonna be enraptured when Peter told him about this later.
“Luke. Back me up.”
“Why should I?”
“Because,” ‘Han’ finally snapped. “I’m not doin’ this because I want you to suffer, alright? I don’t want nothin’ to do with it either, okay? No one does. But it’s this or—”
“Or everyone else,” Luke finished for him in a strangely toneless voice.
Han sighed.
“It’s always everyone else,” Luke said.
“Not here.”
“Why’s it always everyone el—No, no, here. Why not? We’ve got fucking Spiderman in our midst, how much more surreal can this moment get? No. You listen to me, Han—”
“I’ve been listening to you all damn evening and you know what I’m hearing?”
“—I lost my life for this. I lost my home, my aunt, my uncle, my hand—”
“I’m hearing you making this about you.”
“—everything I ever knew, and I tried to make it right, didn’t I? I made the school. I gathered the kids—”
“And it’s not just about you this time, kid. It’s not about you, it’s not about me, or Leia, or Chewie or—”
“—I lost my kid and the love of my life, and I finally get a second chance at finding them and giving them the goddamn happy ending they deserve, and the next thing I know—”
“Luke, you’re the only one,” Han said.
“I WAS NEVER. THE ONLY. ONE, HAN,” Luke roared out of absolutely nowhere, sober as a saint. “I was never the only one. EVER. Ahsoka. Go find her. She’s everything that I’m not and more. She’s the real—”
“Luke.”
“Stop saying that name. I HATE that name. I would do anything for twenty goddamn seconds where I didn’t have to be him.”
“You don’t mean that,” Han said quietly. His shoulders had rounded out and become black and heavy under the weight of their shadow. Luke’s eyes, however, looked like topaz.
“I mean it,” Luke said.
Oho.
So shit had gotten real tense, real fast, so Peter about to make a decision that was gonna make Shelley so proud of him she would weep when he finally slunk back in through her office door.
He was leaving. He was turning around and taking a wee jog. Maybe turning a corner, having a little jump over a fence, up a wall, to a place as far away from this one as superhumanly possible.
Bye, bye.
“This galaxy needs you, Luke.”
Peter stopped five paces away.
“They need you,” Han repeated. “And I need you.”
Peter slowly looked back to see that Luke’s face had twisted sharply out of the light, towards the alley wall.
“I’m sorry that we met again like this,” Han said quietly. “I’m sorry it’s always you. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.”
“Shut up,” Luke said.
“But if you don’t do something, then it won’t be just me and you and all these random others sliding back into that cesspit we all barely crawled out of.”
“Stop.”
“You’ll never find him if things go back the way they were.”
“You—you don’t know that. There—maybe—”
“Luke. Listen to me. Please.”
“Maybe there’s a chance—”
“Luke,” Han said reaching out and putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder and clenching it hard enough that Peter should see the bunched fabric, “Do you want Din to live through this shitshow a second time? Hasn’t he suffered enough?”
Peter shivered. The pressure at the base of his neck was building. The Spidey Sense wanted to hiss in his ears like white noise. It pinned him where he was, staring over his shoulder at those two solid shapes, one digging a hand into the flesh of the other.
His stomach turned.
Luke said something that Peter couldn’t hear. Han pulled him toward his own body by the grip he had on his shoulder. At first, Luke seemed to stagger, like he was walking on black ice. He stopped a single step away from Han’s body, still with his face angled severely away. Han said something to him.
There was a long pause, then Luke seemed to fall forward. Han caught him and crushed his head into his shoulder, lowering his own until it was almost touching Luke’s ear. They clung to each other.
Luke was crying.
The Spidey Sense started to crackle and pop in Peter’s ears.
“I gotchu, kid,” Han said in a rasp. “I gotchu. We’re gonna get through it.”
Peter blinked once and finally unlocked the muscles in his neck. He wasn’t meant to witness this. He held out a wrist and fired a line.
  --
It was weird.
It was just weird.
Something wasn’t right. And Peter couldn’t make his stomach not writhe about it.
Luke.
Han.
An offhand mention of like, characters. Character names. They were character names. Leia, Chewie.
Peter had heard of people who lived their lives honestly believing that they had been other people—fake people—in past lives, but like, damn man. Why would you put yourself in a position like that were you were moved to actual tears for some elaborate street-drama?
Maybe it had been a joke? That was the only thing he could think it could be. Maybe the universe had gazed upon his hubris at work and gone ‘ah yes, I know what this young man needs: emotional confusion at midnight on a Thursday. That’ll fix him.’
If that was the case, then yeah. Good job, universe. Good job, larpers. Y’all are equally sick.
But if not—and Peter no longer lived in a world where he could rule out any possibilities—then he had just witnessed—Dude, he’d just witnessed—
He couldn’t even think it. It was beyond him. It was so far beyond him that like he might have a real stroke taking the thought seriously.
There was only one person who could hold that kind of information unscathed.
Only one.
  --
PP: Ned. I need you to listen to me and tell me I’m not crazy.
NL: no promises but go on
PP: I think? I just saw? Luke Skywalker? And Han Solo? In an alley behind Kitty’s?????
NL: fascinating
JS: Say more
PP: who let you in here?
JS: you?
PP: SECURITY
NL: Peter say more
PP: I can’t there’s a nerd in here and it’s vibrating at the wrong decibel. SECURITY???
MJ: yeah?
PP: I’m trying to have a breakdown. Can you remove Matchstick please?
MJ: what kind of breakdown
JS: he thinks he met Luke Skywalker
PP: Security has failed me. God?
NL: Peter can you name three things you can see.
PP: I am not manic. I am in touch with reality. I’m just having anxiety because I just fucking saw two people calling each other Luke and Han fighting behind Kitty’s. Like real fighting.
JS: nicknames?
PP: I—
PP: oh my god nicknames
PP: Johnny I’m so sorry I ever doubted you. never leave my side
JS: 😊
MJ: wow that’s cringe. Imagine naming yourself after SW characters
NL: does kitty do a cosplay night now????
PP: idk it was wild. People thought that ‘Han’ was trying to kidnap ‘Luke’ but when I got over there, Luke started flirting with me and then shit got real and they started arguing over like him hating his name and not wanting to do something and losing everything or some shit
NL: that’s a lot. I’m sure it was nothing, though, peter.
PP: yeah it was. My SS has been going nuts ever since I left. You think they bugged me?
JS: yes I will come search your body imminently
MJ: my job storm, back off
JS: after MJ has finished prelim checks, I will then search your body for you out of the kindness of my heart ❤
NL: that’s weird, the SS doesn’t usually freak out about cosplayers
PP: ikr?
NL: lol imagine if they were serious
MJ: don’t say that
JS: well now we have to lean in. thanks ned
JS: they were definitely real. God they were so real. You hear that Fate? You got us. They’re definitely real.
PP: BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE?
MJ: cue breakdown
NL: that would be so fucking funny. Luke Skywalker and Han Solo trying to save the world from the hellscape of nyc. The rats alone would thwart them.
PP: ned I’m freaking out
NL: oh you mean you’re actually freaking out?
PP: deeply
NL: oh shit sorry. I’ll be over, have you slept yet?
PP: NO
MJ: on it
JS: can I join?
NL: no johnny
MJ: no johnny
PP: 😭
JS: one day our love will build a bridge, peter. In the meantime I am stroking your ear comfortingly from midtown
  --
Need and MJ’s weight pinning him to a mattress brought sleep but not necessarily comfort. They both thought that this was a sick joke someone had played on him that was now destroying his psyche. They thought that the couple pointing him back towards the cosplayers had been in on the joke.
Peter would have agreed with them if it wasn’t for the Spidey Sense. Everything else lined up perfectly.
Ned sighed in the morning and told Peter to go talk to Wade.
 --
 Wade’s hallucinations were, by far, more auditory than visual, but he stayed quiet while Peter talked his ear off over the phone in his locked office. He waited until Peter had run out of words to describe the feeling of impending doom and then huffed a bit of a laugh into the receiver.
“Them Star Wars people are unreal, Pete, you know this,” he said. “Look at Ned.”
Ned was perfect.
“Take off those rosy shades, hon. Now, look again.”
Ned had perhaps memorized the entire scripts of the first three movie and 90% of the spaceship names and the jedi lineages.
“Uh-huh. Keep going.”
Peter didn’t want to.
“We all gotta do shit we don’t want do.”
Fine.
Ned’s goal in life was to go to his wedding in a stormtrooper suit.
“Keep going.”
Every Lego project they’d built together since 13 years-old had been a Star Wars-related one. When Ned had decided to move out of his parents’ place, he’d shed actual tears over MJ and Peter mutually suggesting that he sell some of his memorabilia.
“Will this delightful buffet before our very eyes, what is the likelihood of your two pals being drunk larpers in too deep to quit?” Wade asked.
73%.
“Uh-huh.”
“Thanks, Wade.”
“No problem. Although, now I gotta see this. You said they were behind Kitty’s? You think I can get a stormtrooper costume in 8 hours?”
“They’re not still gonna be there, Wade,” Peter huffed. “It’s 10 am.”
“You ain’t know that. What if Luke Skywalker’s a useless drunk, huh? You ever think of that?”
No.
“What’d he look like?”
Peter groaned.
“He looked like Luke Skywalker,” he said. “Blond hair, blue eyes—sort of like a chipmunk that forgot its stripes.”
“I’m onto you, Skywalker.”
Peter hung up to Wade’s cackle. He slouched low and tapped his pen against his desk. Then against his fingers.
He stared at the edge of his keyboard.
“What’s the weirdest thing you could imagine, Pete?” he asked himself.
 --
 PP: sam
SC: yeah?
PP: do you like star wars?
SC: nah
PP: you’re perfect
PP: do you believe in past lives?
SC: like spiritually or culturally? I know I was a cult-kid for a min there but before that we were Buddhists and like, past lives are part of the package
PP: that’s cool. What do you think of people being reborn as themselves again like, 500000000 years later? From a galaxy far far away?
SC: I don’t think about those people
PP: okay well, hypothetically. Let’s say that you were going to imagine someone who embodied that whole spirit. Who would it be?
SC: Buddha
PP: not buddha
SC: is this a riddle? Is it Jesus?
PP: THOR. Thank you this has been helpful ily bye
  Mr. Stark asked him over a cup of viciously black coffee why Peter was seeking out the demigod of his present nightmares.
That usually meant that he and Thor had disagreed on basic physics principles again. Peter took that also to mean that the demigod was still in the building. Possibly loose.
“He’s with Banner,” Mr. Stark said scathingly.
“Thanks, you’re amazing,” Peter said as he sailed out of the room.
 --
 Thor was sitting on Dr. Banner’s lab table, despite Dr. Banner telling him to get off no fewer than two times in the five minutes that Peter was in there, schmoozing and making pleasantries. He warmed Thor up to the home-run hit by asking him all about past lives and present lives and what the soul was on Asgard. Thor was only too happy to explain a load of nonsense that made Banner roll his eyes and poke at his muscles with a thermometer.
“So, hypothetically speaking,” Peter drawled in a very casual lean, “With the infinite galaxies and universes, etcetera, there could be one where Star Wars people exist. And so hypothetically, they could get reborn into a universe like ours.”
Thor blinked at him.
“You remember the laser swords?” Dr. Banner deadpanned.
Thor lit up.
“I suppose it’s possible,” he told Peter indulgently. “But if that was the case then it would be a long tragedy, no?”
…yes…
Say more, Thor-man.
“Well,” Thor said with a big, happy smile, “The series of events that unfolded in that story seemed to me to be one of triumph and tragedy. With one would come the other—that’s how these stories work, yes?”
…yes.
“So if Master Luke Skywalker and his companions arrived into our space here, then they must experience the same in order to be themselves,” Thor said, bobbing his head in pity. “Perhaps what would look like a new start for such people would result only in terror and disappointment until the same conclusion was reached.”
Peter felt his own grin twitch.
“So it’s not impossible?” he asked.
Both Thor and Banner looked at him quizzically at the same time.
“Peter?” Dr. Banner asked. “Is this coming from somewhere?”
Peter’s grin twitched so violently, it turned into a grimace that even superstrength would not let him maintain.
“Can I borrow one of you?” he asked.
 --
 Wade was not happy to be met outside of Kitty’s in the middle of the day, especially because his stormtrooper outfit, in his words, ‘did no justice for the size of his balls.’
Peter was ignoring that. He dragged Thor past Wade’s righteous anger until he was standing on the place where the other two had stood the night before. Thor stood there gamely.
“There,” Peter said. “Any like, energy signatures?”
Thor glanced around and shrugged.
Wade scowled at him and hounded him off the spot so that he could stand there instead.
“I feel nothing,” he said, devoid of emotion.
“Same,” Thor said.
Damnit.
“Perhaps you are—”
The Spidey Sense smashed through all of Peter’s sense and screamed at him to get to the street.
Get to the street. Get to the street. Get to the—
There.
Across the way. Chipmunk, no stripes.
That was the guy from the day before. He was on the opposite sidewalk smashed in with the crowd, dragging a hand through his hair and laden with a backpack and two separate totes. He was wearing a strange set of clothes—a mash of casual and formal—and seemed to be in a hurry, the type of hurry that involved pushing past folks at a half-jog and not stopping at streetlights.
“Got ‘im,” Peter hissed.
“No shit?” Wade asked over his shoulder.
Thor made a sound of interest.
“I see him, too,” he said. “What incredible energy, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Wh—
Peter whirled on him.
“Don’t you fucking say that,” he warned. “I’m gonna go distract. You two, on my six.”
 --
 Peter broke four traffic laws on his way around the block. He swung himself around a corner and fucked up the collar on his labcoat and counted to four before stepping out right into ‘Luke’s path.
They collided. Luke stumbled back and dropped one of his totes.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Peter blustered. “Are you okay?”
Luke swore and dropped down without answering, collecting the odd ends of metal that had clattered out from his bag and now rolled loose over the pavement. Peter stooped to join, gathering rings and pipes of all sorts of sizes in his hands. Oncoming folks gave them a wide berth.
It took a moment for Luke to realize what Peter was doing, but when he did, his shoulders went stiff as a board.
“DON’T TOUCH THOSE,” he snapped, just as Peter made to pick up a little plastic bag with a wad of tissue inside it.
Peter froze.
“Oh. Sorry,” he said.
This time, Luke finally met his eye.
“Oh, Jesus. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Luke blustered, “Thank you. I’ll—I’ve got them. Thank you, though. It’s okay.”
He took the metal out of Peter’s hands and stuffed them back into his bag. He snatched the plastic bag before Peter could touch it and put that on top.
“Excuse me,” he said as he stood. “Thanks again.”
And just like that, he hurried off past Peter down the pavement.
Peter watched him go.
“Catch?” Wade asked softly from the corner.
“Negative,” Peter said, reaching into his sleeve and holding up the thin aluminum tube he’d hidden up there by the edge of his shirt-sleeve.
It was shiny and longer than he’d expect for any plumbing project. The inside appeared to be coated with some sort of heavy, non-reactive material, and half of the outside had grooved bands carved into it.
“Someone’s building something,” he said.
“Mid-century sink?” Wade asked, taking the tube.
“Nope,” Peter said.
 --
 NL: That is a lightsaber hilt
NL: where did you get that? It’s like mega accurate. Was it etsy?
PP: I stole it
NL: give it back
PP: I can’t I stole it from Luke Skywalker.
NL: Peter.
NL: we talked about this.
PP: He’s Luke Skywalker. I swear on the grave of my mother
MJ: this is a problem. This is now an intervention.
PP: I will prove it. If he’s Luke Skywalker, then he will do ANYTHING to get this thing back.
NL: and if not?
PP: then I will wait two days before politely tracking down his home address and then I will return it via wall crawling
JS: UM
JS: SORRY
JS: PETER CAN YOU CALL ME?
PP: no
NL: no
MJ: no
JS: are
JS: are you sure??? Because there’s a guy in Reed’s lab right now talking to him and Sue, asking SUPER politely for access to—I shit you not—the crystals we picked up from that space trip the other day???
NL: …
PP: …
MJ: …
PP: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
MJ: fake
NL: no way
PP: WHAT’S HIS NAME, JOHNNY BOY????
JS: I can’t
PP: nope you gotta
JS: I can’t I’m gonna cry I didn’t ask for this
MJ: out with it
NL: please say it’s obi-wan
JS: HHHHHHHHHHH
JS: nope
JS: just a guy named Ben 🙃
PP: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
PP: I told you motherfuckers
JS: right. So like. Awkward. But you uh, know that hilt thing you have?
PP: …is Obi-Wan Kenobi about to beat my ass, Johnny?
 --
 There was something about putting the hilt into the palm of someone more famous than Captain America that made Peter’s knees weak.
It did not help that Luke Skywalker had flirted with him the other night.
It did not help that Luke Skywalker didn’t recognize him as Spiderman.
Nothing helped, really, especially when those big topaz eyes lifted and Peter could see that their rims were red and raw.
“Thanks,” Luke Skywalker—the embodiment of hope itself—said in a soft, defeated rasp.
Every alarm in Peter’s head said to save him. Save him from what? How? Who knew.
Ned and MJ seemed to feel the same way, if the pressure on each of his arms was anything to go by.
“Well, that’s all cleared up, then. Thank you so much for your help; it is deeply appreciated,” a stupidly pleasant gentleman with a perfectly combed beard and lovingly coifed light hair said to the room at large.
Obi-Wan Kenobi—pardon, Ben Kennedi—was far more handsome than any movie could ever dream to make him. What they’d done to him in the 1970s, Peter saw now, was a fucking crime. He watched as this beautiful human being set a warm hand on Luke Skywalker’s—pardon, Luke Naberry’s—shoulder and used it to steer him towards the Baxter Building’s front entrance.
He watched as the two of them, like true Master and Padawan, stepped out onto the landing and opted for the stairs. For one fleeting, unbelievable second, Luke looked back over his shoulder at all of them before taking the next step after his Master.
He was right the other night.
He wasn’t the only jedi. Not anymore.
“So that just happened,” Sue acknowledged for everyone after the door had clicked closed and the sound of footsteps had faded off to nothing.
“I’m going to cry,” Reed announced.
“This is single-handedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ned said.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi walked into our kitchen,” Reed told Sue like she hadn’t been there right next to him.
“The empire is trying to establish itself under our very feet,” Sue said back a little viciously.
“The real empire,” Reed whimpered.
Wait.
No, go back.
“For real?” Peter asked.
Sue and Reed looked back at the rest of them and then exchanged a look.
 --
 Peter was sad now. Depressed and laid out on his side staring back at Valeria’s huge eyes on the floor while Ned and MJ and Johnny asked Reed and Sue two hundred clarifying questions.
Peter didn’t need the specifics. He was thinking back on the conversation that he’d witnessed between Luke and Han Solo—Han Solo who was tall with dark hair and dark eyes and an accent straight out of New Jersey. Solo who had probably been charged with forcing Luke to face the facts in front of all of them because he was the one who Luke trusted most.
But it had shattered them—both of them.
The New Hope had given up everything. He was tired. His heart was torn. He was jaded just like Peter had been that same night. He’d been avoiding the tightrope that Peter had already started crossing, though, probably looking for every possible way to not have to set the first foot on that wobbly line.
He’d walked it before.
Valeria reached out with a chubby, round hand and touched the side of Peter’s face.
“Spiderman,” she said with terrifying understanding, “Someone needs help.”
He wriggled in close enough to bonk heads with her.
“Baby Storm,” he whispered, “I think you’re right.”
  --
MJ thought that Peter needed to leave things alone. She pointed out that he had plenty of problems without getting involved in universe-saving. She gestured to Johnny and volunteered him for the job.
Johnny refused on account of needing to be the prettiest blond in any room. He claimed that if he wasn’t, he had to fight for dominance.
Ned was on the other end of the spectrum. He had 43 reasons why Peter should get involved with things, and 40 of them ended up in the same place which was ‘it would be cool.’
One of Ned’s better reasons, however, involved pointing out that Peter had already stolen half of a lightsaber. He was good and involved now, whether he wanted to be or not. And that was enough for Peter to decide to go on a hunt to give a formal apology.
He recruited Ned to help him locate Luke Skywalker.
That didn’t work.
They tried Luke Naberry.
That didn’t work either.
They ended up going through every possible iteration of every Star Wars name they knew and then filtered out the people who’d been named by exuberant parents and then filtered out anyone who didn’t live in New York and they ended up with fat lot of still nothing.
It was like Luke Skywalker didn’t truly exist in this world.
Until MJ found his Instagram by typing in ‘guys who look weirdly like Luke Skywalker.’
She held the phone aloft in triumph and they all gathered round to gape in awe at her intelligence and research skills.
Luke’s Instagram was nothing but pictures of coffee.
He had one selfie and this selfie was enough to have gotten him onto a BuzzFeed article. In it he was holding—you guessed it—coffee. Iced coffee. One in each hand.
He was shaking them, and one had been labeled with his name—hence the public connection made.
“Someone needs to tell him that coffee is not a food group,” Johnny observed.
“Maybe he works nights,” MJ said.
Ned lifted an eyebrow.
“Maybe this is his job,” he said.
There was a pause.
Some snooping revealed that Luke was an honest to god food website editor. He was a cameraman.
Repeat. Luke Skywalker, cameraman. He filmed all the food hosts for his company’s Youtube channel. He edited videos. He more or less blended into the background of everything, while having his finger prints on damn near everything.
This was a man after Peter’s own soul. They were kindred spirits in hidden identities, content creation, and suffering under a boulder of responsibility too great to cope with.
He had to find him now.
And after they had his Instagram it wasn’t too hard. He seemed to hang out in various parts of the Bronx and Peter just so happened to know some folks out that way.
 --
 Louis told Peter that he would never speak to him again if he found, befriended, and then didn’t share Luke Skywalker (the man, the real man, I’m not fucking with you, Louis). But he also recognized a place on Luke’s instagram that he seemed to be working his way through the menu of. He sent along an address and told Peter not to forget his promises.
Angel asked why he was looking for Johnny Storm in the Bronx.
Peter left Louis to rattle sense into her.
He took a walk on Saturday morning. A long walk. A long train ride, then a walk, then a half hour of squinting, and then, lo and behold, he found a blond guy banging his head into the center of an out door metal table across from a woman with heavy braids trailing down the sides of her neck. She was much older than him and drummed white-painted fingernails across her cheek as she thought.
Peter hid and called Ned and MJ for an ID. He peeked the phone’s camera out enough for them to see the other two and then snatched it back.
Ned was about to flip a table.
“That’s clearly Ahsoka Tano,” he said. “She—the braids, dude. Dead give-away. And she put ribbons in them, like what even is discretion?”
Peter didn’t know that person. He continued not to know this person, even as Ned dragged him through a trainwreck of Star Wars lore.
“So she’s a friend,” he said.
“She’s like a jedi, but not like a jedi, she was a jedi, but then she said ‘fuck the order’ and—”
Great. Peter was approaching.
Ned held his face in his hands. MJ told Peter to report back on his findings. Peter ended the call and inched closer, weaving through the crowd and slipping into the coffee joint to see what nonsense they were selling.
It was nonsense with lots of syrup. He could never say no to syrup.
He watched the two outside while waiting for his order. Luke gesticulated to his friend and she spoke, giving reasonable gestures back. He stopped her and dug out his phone and that little plastic baggy full of fluffy material. He answered his phone. His friend took the little bag and held it up to the light.
She frowned at it.
Luke pushed away from the table and walked away to take his call. Peter’s order was called. He grabbed it and swerved out towards the patio.
“Hello,” he said at the edge of Luke and his friend’s table. “Is this seat taken?”
Luke’s friend stared at him.
“It is,” she said. “Move along, hon, you’re ten years too young.”
Wow.
“For your friend?” Peter tried. “Could I leave my number?”
He had this lady’s attention now. She was looking him up and down, appraising. Peter tried not to flex. He stayed cool. Matt-levels of cool. He smiled winningly.
“Alright, why not?” she said, digging through her bag for a receipt and a pen. Peter beamed as he leaned down to scrawl his number down on the back. He got halfway through before he heard a step stop nearby.
“Look alive, kid,” Luke’s friend said. “Hey, Luke, this guy was just—”
“You again?” Luke said.
Peter lifted his head and brows.
“Hi,” he said. “I just wanted to apologize.”
There was a long silence.
Luke’s friend looked between them and then gave Luke a long, judgmental stare.
“You don’t have to,” Luke said. “Thanks, though. How did you find me here?”
Mmm. Beginner’s luck.
“Here,” Peter said, offering his number on the receipt. “If you ever need someone to talk to who gets it.”
Luke’s friend bit her lip and looked away in secondhand embarrassment. Peter ignored her for now.
“Thanks,” Luke said. “You don’t and you won’t. But you’re very pretty.”
Nice.
“You’d be surprised,” Peter told him. “Gimme a text. I’ll leave y’all alone now. Enjoy your coffee.”
He left. But not before hearing, “but that ass, Luke.”
 --
 Ned told him that there was no way that Luke was ever going to text him and he was disappointed in Peter’s hostage-taking skills.
But he was proved wrong two hours later and, for his crimes, had to admit Peter’s brilliance publicly.
 LS: hi sorry. This is Luke. This morning when you stopped by our table, did you happen to see a little plastic bag on it?
 Why yes. The one in Peter’s pocket right now? That bag?
 PP: hi!! I did, actually. You guys aren’t very subtle 😏
LS: it’s not coke
PP: I’m not judging
LS: no, it’s not coke, I swear. It’s something INFINITELY more important. Did you happen to see if it had fallen on the ground?
PP: ah, no, sorry. I didn’t see it
PP: OH NO
PP: oh my god I’m so sorry, I think I took it with me when I accidentally took your friend’s pen.
LS: I
LS: what’s your name?
PP: Peter ❤
LS: Peter, you have a fucking problem
LS: I’m starting to think that you want something from me. And listen, you’re a handsome guy, but I’m not available and my type isn’t kleptomaniac. What do you want for it?
PP: well you got me
PP: to talk
LS: about what?
PP: mostly about why you look like you’re a wet phonebook in a bad gutter
LS: a phonebook???? What era are you even from????
PP: I could say the same to you, sir.
LS: I
LS: wh
LS: alright touche. The point is that I’m not going to talk to you. I just need that bag back. It’s a life and death situation.
PP: what are they? They aren’t coke crystals.
LS: how would you know?
PP: what are you, a cop?
LS: NO. This is going nowhere. What. Do. You. Want?
PP: To. Talk.
LS: I’m not going to talk to you.
PP: then why did you ask me to rescue you?
 He held his breath.
 LS: I didn’t
PP: you did
LS: I didn’t ask you for shit. This is it. What’s your last name.
PP: Man 😊
LS: Man what
PP: That’s my last name.
LS: Peter Man.
PP: oop, nope, sorry. That’s someone else.
LS: …so I’m calling the police, now. That’s what we’re saying?
PP: depends. Do you still need to be rescued?
 Come on, Skywalker. Come on, remember.
 LS: I never asked you to rescue me.
PP: You did. Think back.
LS: I didn’t
LS: I just made a joke to
LS: WHAT AFAJSDFA DTTH E FUCK
 Peter cackled and let himself fall onto his back.
 PP: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ❤
LS: YOU’RE
PP: Just your friendly neighborhood guy ❤
LS: YOU
LS: you
PP: me
LS: THAT’s how the storms knew you
PP: yep 💋
LS: I don’t even know what to say
PP: it’s okay, you don’t have to say shit. The main thing I wanted you to know was that I hear you. And if you need it, I’ve got you.
LS: You’re literally trying to rescue me??
PP: it’s my job
LS: IT ISN’T. How have you never been arrested? how did you find me? Did you track my phone? Is it some kind of spider thing???
PP: yes
LS: I am legally obligated to kill you with the force now
PP: harder daddy
LS: ADaaSDASFSDFSdd
LS: oh my god Han is going to lose his gourd
LS: I’m sorry I just I can’t believe you of all people stole my damn hilt
PP: I’ve got……………………..sticky fingers
LS: go die
LS: no I didn’t mean that sorry that’s a thing with me and my sister. I mean, okay. You got me. Hero of NYC.
 Peter’s cheeks were starting to hurt.
 PP: I’ll bring them back to you.
LS: Please do, Ben’s about to have a stroke.
PP: you mean obi-wan?
LS: he’s convinced his cat ate them. There’s a staring contest happening. No one has blinked in two minutes and I don’t want to be here for the internal investigation.
PP: where do you live?
 Luke sent an address. Peter held his phone high and walked it into the living room where Ned was bitchily composing an Instagram post. He and MJ looked up at the same time.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Peter said. “Luke Skywalker and Co. live in a cemetery.”
 --
 It wasn’t a cemetery. It was a funeral home, but close enough.
Luke was waiting outside on the stoop in a cardigan about four sizes too big for him. It was there probably to protect him from the equally large ragdoll cat in his arms.
Peter smiled. Luke stared at him and then shook his head and went through the screen door. Ned gave Peter a biting look.
“Made friends, I see,” he said.
“We’re doin’ great,” Peter told him, hopping up the stairs. “Look at us, totally—”
“Insidious.”
Peter stopped and turned nervously to see through the screen door where Obi-Wan Kenobi had seized both of the cat’s cheeks. Luke continued to hold it with maximum doneness levels.
“Where have you been?” Obi-Wan asked the cat seriously.
“We have guests,” Luke said. “Take your beast.”
Obi-Wan snatched the cat out of Luke’s arms with contempt all over his face.
“You are a villain of the highest order,” he told it.
“Ben. Guests. Please evacuate. I am hosting negotiations,” Luke said.
“We should have named you ‘Sith.’”
“Ben.”
Peter was not going to laugh at Obi-Wan Kenobi. That was too surreal.
“Come in,” Luke said, returning to hold open the screen. “I hope you’re not allergic. There are two of them.”
T-two?
“The other one is Junior.”
Peter stepped over the threshold and found himself in a room that looked like a human birdhouse. It was full of surfaces that were almost completely empty, as though an enrichment object had once lived there but had been removed as punishment. Luke waved Ned and MJ in and accepted their apologies on Peter’s behalf.
Peter ignored them to lock eyes with a creature more stunning than any he had ever encountered. It sat on the kitchen counter by a single clear jar labelled ‘Not Spice.’ It blinked grumpy green eyes.
“Oh, it’s these people again?”
They all looked behind them to see Obi-Wan peering around a doorframe with the first cat draped over his shoulders.
“Kleptomaniac,” Luke said, pointing at Peter. Peter waved.
“Huh,” Obi-Wan said simply. “I will distract Ahsoka.”
He vanished. Luke grimaced after him.
“Let’s go talk in the back,” he said. “There are no bodies, I promise.”
 --
 The funeral home had a little deck and a yard small even for this far out in Queens. It was crammed full of plants that appeared to be in a competition to bloom. Luke invited them to sit and then left to make coffee.
Coffee, yes, how had Peter forgotten.
He peeked over the side of the deck down where there was a large stone set in the center of the garden.
“A seeing stone,” Ned whispered to him.
“Oh, how did you know?”
They all jumped.
Peter swore that Obi-Wan hadn’t opened that sliding door. How had—what—
Ned was at a loss for words in the face of one of his greatest heroes.
“I—uh. M-movie? I mean, sorry. It was in The Mandalorian, second season, with the—”
“Yet more television,” Obi-Wan said derisively.
They all stared.
“Can you teleport?” MJ asked him.
“I thought you were bothering Ahsoka?” Luke asked, from inside. He squeezed past the man and his cat with three glass mugs in hand. He set them down on the little square table off to the side of the desk railing.
“I was, but then I got curious,” Obi-Wan said. “And I lost Junior.”
Luke stared at him.
“I’m going to lock you in the basement,” he said.
“Try, try, and try again,” Obi-Wan told him, petting his beloved cat’s head.
“Do you even know who Spiderman is, old man?”
“More television.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Peter had to keep a conscious watch on his jaw, lest it fall open in the face of the most handsome, clueless man on the planet. He watched as Obi-Wan, disgusted with all this ‘television’ nonsense skulked back off into the guts of the home. Luke shut the door behind him.
“So,” he said, holding out his hand. “We’re talking. Fork ‘em.”
Ah.
Fair was fair.
Peter produced the plastic bag from his pocket and handed it over. There was a shout somewhere inside followed by someone going ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’
“Ben keeps our home ghost free. He terrifies all the wannabee haunters,” Luke said simply. “Thank you for these. I imagine it’s somewhat of a shock to learn that it’s all real.”
It was, but it wasn’t the weirdest thing Peter had encountered by far.
“How long have you lived in New York?” he asked conversationally.
Luke gave him a weird brow.
He seemed smaller than before in that enormous cardigan. Certainly smaller than the movies made him seem. His face was a little thinner too, and his lips seemed to slope into an almost permanent pout.
“About twenty years,” he said. “We were born in California, but Anakin moved us here when we were eight.”
Anakin? Like, Darth Vader, Anakin?
“’Luke, I am your father’—yeah, that guy,” Luke said with a scoff. “Except, you know, he ain’t dead. And he’s the only one who can make Ben remember that tea isn’t a meal, so we keep him around for that and to scream back at Leia.”
Peter was already completely lost to the dynamics of this household. It wasn’t like the books and movies—Ned’s twitching for his phone to take notes was proof enough of that.
“That’s awkward,” MJ said. “So did y’all do like, collective counselling for the past life shit?”
Luke deflated and moaned into his hands.
“It’s not past life shit if your damn name is the same,” he said. “It’s complicated.”
It sounded like it.
Imagine growing up with your apparently-Star War-obsessed father and uncle who’d built a home and a business (presumably) around that shit, only to find out later that they’d done it because it was literally their religion.
What a trip.
“When did you find out?” Peter asked gently.
“Oh, you know. Last week,” Luke said with a bitter grin. “Quit my fulltime job. Dumped my ex. Broke my lease and now here I am. Once again. Back at this place.”
“Do you want a hug?” Ned asked into the awkward silence.
“You’re very sweet,” Luke said. “If I touch another human, I will start crying and never stop.”
Yikes.
Barely holdin’ on by a thread there, buddy? How’s the hyperawareness going?
“Why does it matter, is my question. For you, I mean,” Luke said with a suspicious squint. “You fought a goblin guy, didn’t you? With a hover board?”
Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh, yeah.
Yeah, Peter sure had done that.
“And like, the bird dude? Didn’t you down a plane?”
Perhaps.
But Luke had blown up the Deathstar, no?
“These things are not equivalent,” Luke said flatly. “I joined a rebel alliance. There were loads of us.”
Mmm. Perhaps so.
“God, how old are you even? You look 22.”
Peter gawked.
“I’m 27,” he said.
Luke did a double-take.
“That’s a lie,” he accused. “Tell the truth or be compelled.”
“By the Force?” Ned asked hopefully.
Luke blinked at him. He pointed at the glass sliding door which revealed Obi-Wan holding Junior the cat above his head by the kitchen sink.
“The Force,” he said.
Ned’s face fell.
“Do we not have the Force, here?” he asked.
Luke flinched.
“Listen,” he said abruptly, “We’re workin’ on it. This isn’t our original galaxy. The rules are all different. The only one who’s managed to make even a spark happen is Obi-Wan so far, but as soon as we find Master Yoda, it’s over. We’ll already have won.”
“You lost Yoda,” MJ mused.
Luke stammered and caught himself.
“We lost a lot of people,” he snapped. “It happens when you shift galaxies. Anyways, that’s what the stone is for.”
MJ glanced back at the stone and then leaned her forearms onto the small table.
“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “You jedi folks all popped up over here by some cosmic accident. You don’t have the Force. Most of you don’t even remember who you are. You lost your most experienced Master, and you’re going to fight the Sith?”
Peter stirred his coffee nervously.
Luke’s eye twitched.
“We don’t need the others,” he said. “We only need the Force. To fight the Sith. Yes.”
MJ frowned deep and held her chin with both hands.
“So you need the thing you for sure don’t have the most,” she said.
Luke opened his mouth, but not before the window by the door snapped open and Obi-Wan leaned out to say, “We always have the Force.”
Luke covered his face in despair.
“I was listening from the kitchen window,” Obi-Wan told him lovingly.
“GO FIND CODY ALREADY,” Luke roared at him.
“I did, he’s right here,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, stroking his angry cat.
“The other Cody.”
“Oh, I am trying, don’t you worry.”
“Ben, so help me God—”
“Force.”
“SO HELP ME FORCE—”
Star Wars had really left out the part about Luke’s explosive temper. Peter winced, but Ned laughed and the sound seemed to have a calming effect on Jedi-on-Jedi crime about to take place in the kitchen. Obi-Wan appeared pleased with this development and emboldened. He wove past Luke out onto the desk and came over, cat and all, to point down to the seeing stone in the middle of the garden.
“Others who feel the Force’s energy will be drawn to it,” he told Ned fondly. “It’s how we got Luke back home.”
“It’s not,” Luke said. “You called me.”
“And so others will also come,” Obi-Wan said with confidence. “The most important thing is that we believe in the Force. And from that, we will find guidance and power and—”
“He means Yoda,” Luke translated. “He’s been putting frogs on it as an offering, even though me, Ahsoka, and Anakin told him that this is a human’s world. A human’s world, Ben. Even if he did eat them, he’s not eating them raw.”
“Don’t be discouraged by Luke’s attitude, he is very stressed,” Obi-Wan told Ned and Ned only affectionately. “I told him not to be, you see there are four of us here already, and the Chosen One is among us.”
“Anakin told you to stop calling him that,” Luke moaned, massaging his temples.
“He was the first to be aware of our present situation,” Obi-Wan said.
“He took a hallucinogen and had a paranoid breakdown,” Luke pleaded. “Ben, please. Go inside. Think of your blood pressure.”
“Perhaps, but it was a useful breakdown, was it not?”
“I am so sorry for him, he’s getting senile,” Luke said to the rest of them.
“Your energy is different,” Obi-Wan informed Peter out of absolutely nowhere. “Are you also Force-sensitive? Were you drawn to the stone?”
Er.
No.
Sorry?
“He’s Spiderman,” Luke said, gesturing pointedly. “Remember Spiderman?”
Obi-Wan did not. Peter suspected, actually, that Obi-Wan still used phonebooks, if he used phones at all, that was.
Luke took a deep breath and let it out.
“Okay, let me just lay it out,” he said. “We’re doing the best we can with what we have. You don’t have to get involved with this. We appreciate your help, but what would help us even more is if you stay out of it, alright?”
Yeah, okay. Sure. Peter could respect that.
“Amazing. And don’t tell other people.”
Understood.
“Unless they’re Force-sensitive,” Obi-Wan said. “In which case, ask them how they feel about rocks.”
Luke just stared at him coldly this time.
“You didn’t used to be like this,” he said dangerously.
“No, I used to be stressed,” Obi-Wan told him. “But you and Ani are doing that for me, so I have resolved to be a free spirit. Nice to meet all of you. Have more coffee. I don’t like this one; I will have it out of the house by sundown.”
He left, and possibly for good this time. No one knew what to say in his absence.
“So,” Peter tried, desperate for something to break up the tension. “You said a few days ago that you were looking for someone?”
Luke finally stopped making growling faces towards the sliding door. He lit up like a bulb.
“I am, actually,” he said.
 --
 Luke was looking for a very particular person named ‘Din.’ He described him as ‘six feet tall and covered in armor.’ He asked if they knew of such a person.
Peter had to shove a hand against his mouth in case he made an unwanted connection between this description and Obi-Wan behavior.
“Haven’t,” MJ said. “Who is he?”
“My husband,” Luke said.
Ned choked.
Peter choked.
MJ tilted her head.
“You have a husband?” she asked. “I would have remembered a husband in that series.”
Luke leaned his chin on his palm and gazed sideways over the city. He seemed to sigh.
“I don’t know why he isn’t connected to me in the media created here,” he said. “It’s probably because he’s always been very shy.”
Oh, aw. Peter loved that. The contrast between them was heart-warming.
“We had a son together,” Luke said. “His child. He brought him to me. One of my students, at first.”
Hang on a minute here.
Peter exchanged a glance with Ned. Ned tried very hard to pick a way to approach this sensitively. He landed on asking, “What was his name again?”
“Din,” Luke said. “Din Djarin.”
Ned cringed.
“He was a Mandalorian,” Luke explained. “Very, very, very shy. Like, he would rather chew off his own leg than make small talk with a stranger. I think, before I knew all this, I was still subconsciously looking for him. All my exes are the same type.”
That—
Okay, so like.
Did these people own a TV?
“Do we look like we own a TV?” Luke deadpanned. “No. If Ben senses anything bigger than a datapad happening in this place, he’s driven to madness and breaks it.”
UH?
“He doesn’t actually break it,” Luke sighed. “He just finds a way to make it unusable—putting clothes on it, disconnecting the monitor, that kind of thing. He thinks they waste electricity.”
What a guy. Peter wanted to put him and May in a room and see what conspiracies they could spin together.
“Why do you ask?” Luke asked.
Ned cleared his throat.
“Do you have a, uh, datapad, then?” he asked.
 --
 “DIN. That’s DIN. He’s got his own show. Oh my god, that’s—stay right there. Don’t move.”
Bless this man. Peter wanted to hug him so bad. They’d lost him to the staircase leading up from the second floor to the attic. Peter wondered who he was showing the tablet to.
Maybe Obi-Wan?
“I told you this already,” a voice up there said.
“LOOK AT HIM.”
“You’re killin’ me, smalls. We had this exact conversation last week. Did you forget?”
“You knew where he was.”
“Alright, alright. Downward march.”
Anakin fucking Skywalker came down the stairs with a handful of Luke’s shirt in one hand and the tablet shoved under his other arm. He paused and frowned at the three of them in the kitchen frozen in shock, and then apparently decided that that didn’t matter. He carried on dragging Luke with him towards the kitchen counter. He dropped the tablet onto it and Peter realized that the lower half of his sleeve on that side was empty.
He watched as the guy let go of Luke and chased the not-angry cat off the counter, cursing.
“Alright, this?” he said, tapping on the tablet. “Is the link I put here.” He rapped the same finger on what Peter now saw was a whiteboard covered in rows upon rows of symbols that he’d never seen before.
“Din here? Din here. You see?” Vader told Luke with untold patience.
“I can’t read that,” Luke moaned. “You lied to me.”
“It’s up in the kitchen, Luke.”
“You’re a liar and a cad. Do it in Basic.”
“This is Basic.”
Oh, dear. All that fanfic about Luke meeting Darth Vader and having a breakdown was looking real embarrassed now, wasn’t it?
“If it’s Basic, why can’t I read it?” Luke demanded.
“Because, like I told you last night, the night before, and the night before that,” Vader said painstakingly, “It doesn’t all come back at once. It’s going to take time.”
“We don’t have time,” Luke snapped.
Vader leaned his head back with half-lidded eyes. Luke didn’t look even remotely like his kid, even with him looking all pre-quels-like now.
“We talked about this, too, remember?” Vader asked.
Obviously not. Luke was distressed. He had eyes only for the tablet now.
“No, of course not, silly me,” Vader said. “Why are humans here?”
“Ahsoka went home,” Luke said.
“Thank you, that was not my question.”
“What was your question?”
“Why are non-order humans here?”
“I told you, Ahsoka went—”
“Son, I will kill you if you continue to act like Obi-Wan,” Vader said without missing a beat.
“You can try,” Luke said offhandedly. “But only one of us has two handed grip.”
There was a long stare.
“It’s Obi-Wan,” Vader told him. “Why do we have living guests?”
He gestured back to Peter, Ned, and MJ like they were flies on a set of blinds.
“Oh, because that’s Spiderman and he stole your kyber crystals,” Luke said.
Vader rounded on Peter, and Peter actually felt fear.
Vader blinked once.
“This may as well happen,” he decided somehow placidly. “I’m going back upstairs. Where did your grand-master go?”
“Into the mist,” Luke said. “Can you feel Din?”
“Negative, ghostrider.”
“When the Force chooses you first out of favoritism, can you feel for Din?”
“Ah yes, can I feel for your Force-repellant life partner with all of the Force energy that I do not have? Yes, I sure can.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime, primary monstrosity of my loins.”
UM?
This felt a little hostile for Peter’s tastes. Not that it wasn’t earned. Clearly it was earned. It was just horrifying.
“Guests, you are dismissed,” Vader said in their direction. “Unless you’re drawn to the rock outside, in which case, you may stay. Otherwise, do not darken this doorstep again, or else we will leave you with the other dead in the morgue.”
“Thanks for bringing the crystals,” Luke said from behind him. “And for talking. I do feel better, actually.”
 --
 They left the funeral home. Obi-Wan was outside by the mailbox as though waiting for them. Peter wasn’t sure he had any emotional energy left to approach him with.
“Thank you for speaking to Luke,” he said as the three of them attempted to pass unnoticed. “It’s good for him to talk to others his own age.”
Uh-huh. Good night, sir?
“Good night, Peter, Ned, and Michelle.”
They hadn’t given their names.
They definitely hadn’t given their names.
 --
 Ned wasn’t sleeping for two years. He made this clear with a lot of clapping gestures and then rolled around on the floor, talking about all kinds of shit that Peter couldn’t decipher. MJ watched him and flicked her eyes up to Peter with concern on her forehead.
“That family is cinematically dysfunctional,” she said.
Correct.
“They’re barely their own characters.”
Correct.
“What now?”
Peter wasn’t sure. The best he could think of was to just keep an eye on the situation. Maybe check in every couple of weeks?
“If you say so,” MJ said. “I think you made Ned’s life, by the way. Good job.”
 --
 Peter tried checking in every two weeks. It started because he happened to hear of a tunnel collapsing in Queens nearby the funeral home. He texted Luke to ask if he needed a save and all he got back was a ‘well, not anymore.’
After that, Peter kept a close eye on happenstances occurring around the city. There were more than he bargained for. And when he glanced at Luke’s Instagram after the first week after the tunnel collapse, he noted that two of the nails on the hand Luke held his coffee to the camera with had gone completely black.
That was worrying.
Peter was used to be the danger-prone asshole in his friendgroup. He did not like this role-reversal. MJ asked him sarcastically what the problem was.
He texted Luke again.
 PP: how many nails do you have left bro?
LS: we put a hole in one to release the pressure
PP: that don’t sound great bro.
LS: it’s fine. Oh, but good news
PP: oh?
LS: the most predictable thing ever has happened. The Vader has regained force power
PP: that’s worrying
LS: ? why?
PP: won’t he go dark?
LS: ah, no. He fucked up and raised me and Leia with Ben this time after our mom died. He had his chance to go dark and traded it for 8 consecutive hours of sleep instead.
PP: I truly don’t know what to say
LS: It’s fine we did 12 years of family therapy after the accident so we are no longer on the DSS watchlist
PP: I know less what to say
LS: he won’t find din :/
PP: is that your priority right now?
LS: aren’t you supposed to be spiderman or something? Don’t you have chaotic things to say?
PP: you know normally I do, this is literally out of character for me. but I think you also might be absorbing my chaos.
LS: that’s fair. I have that effect on people. Hey, is your buddy Ned available to chat? He knows more than I can remember about my old life. Can I borrow him?
 That sounded like a horrendous decision.
 PP: yeah let me get you his number.
LS: thanksssss
  --
Ned reported a few days later that his services were needed at the funeral home. He was leaving them all now to befriend Luke Skywalker as was his true destiny.
He came back a few hours later and reported that his services had been helpful and he was pleased to say that Darth Vader was now the official herder of ‘wans’ in the house. This included all Obi-Wans and padawans.
He seemed to be the only guy there who could like, retain information given to him for some reason. He accepted this as his lot in life and went around repeating the same things to the others ad nauseum until they finally stuck for them.
Peter wondered if that was his personal hell.
Ned didn’t think so. He thought the guy was pretty chill about it and had probably been doing it for a while now. He did it more for Ahsoka Tano and Luke than he did for Obi-Wan. Although that was probably because Obi-Wan appeared to be on a hunt that made all non-relevant information given to him slip off his back like water.
 --
 Another two weeks. Another text.
 PP: hey luke, I saw you drowning on the news. You okay?
LS: GOD my ex-workplace keeps calling welfare checks on our house. We’ve had more cops here then flies these last few days.
PP: ex-workplace is one way to refer to your old job. Sounds like they cared about you. What did you do?
LS: preschool teacher.
 Peter was going to lose his shit right here on this bed.
 PP: was that your calling?
LS: that was Luke Naberry’s calling. Luke Skywalker’s calling is to make the lightsaber go vrrrrrrm
PP: you honestly terrify me
LS: thanks han says the same thing. OH. HE FOUND CHEWIE.
PP: no shit??
LS: yeah I told Ned, not you. But yeah. He found him lugging boxes for a bodega. And now they both work at the same bodega. Which like, objectively, is a bad thing because Han was a UN translator.
PP: I’m
PP: sorry
PP: what?
LS: I know he was all respectable and shit. It was awful. I can look at him again without feeling like I’ve failed in every part of my life.
PP: dare I ask what your sister does?
LS: lawyer
PP: not senator?
LS: we’re not old enough to be senators.
PP: every moment becomes more concerning than the next. You fascinate me. This is why they put you in like, all the films.
LS: because I’m sexy yeah
PP: that too
LS: not to you. I’m off-limits bub. I’m married.
PP: how’s that going for you?
LS: Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
PP: I see. So no Din yet?
LS: I will find him if it kills me
PP: that’s so romantic. Hey you should watch that series. They gave him a little green yoda in it. Really cute.
LS: that’s my son you piece of shit
 There was no winning here.
 --
 MJ asked him a few weeks later if he was still keeping up with the Jedi drama since the whole city had recently decided that Peter was a snack.
Obviously he hadn’t.
She told him not to worry, Ned had. She told him to talk to Ned, so he went and talked to Ned with a heatpad in one hand and a coldpack in the other.
Ned patted at him sympathetically and informed him that Luke had reunited with the Force. It was going poorly for him, mostly because the Force wasn’t used to people being in touch with it in these parts of the universe. It kept telling each of the jedi that there was a disturbance and then luring them to each other to fight to the death.
Luke described it as the Force-equivalent of an auto-immune disease.  
They’d taken to gathering in the living room of the funeral home to meditate in a circle, as though to calm the Force’s anxiety while scenting each other for protection.
It had a 40% success rate. Everyone was sleeping in locked rooms for the time being, just in case someone got compelled to do something rash.
Peter asked Ned if he’d finally lost his crown as King Chaos of NYC.
Ned patted him on the knee more firmly than before and said that he could regain his crown by introducing a calming element into the jedi household.
Peter had his pride to defend, so he asked what that element ought to be.
  --
Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, the leader of all Mandalorians, was bound to have a name that looked nothing like the one they had for him. Luke nearly exploded when Peter approached him to asked him (and his taped fingers) more about who Din Djarin was outside the name.
They proceeded with caution, however. So far, Peter and Ned had discovered only dissonance between Luke’s account of his life partner (his ‘heart, stars, sun, and sand’) and the guy on the screen for the tv show. That was to be expected, given that they had met Luke now and learned of his somewhat explosive personality.
But even still, Luke’s description of Din Djarin as ‘kind, compassionate, tender, shy, emotionally stable, dependable, sweet, caring, and hunky’ seemed slightly biased.
Peter just wanted to know how tall this guy was. Hair color. Eye color. Skin color. Blood type. That kind of shit.
Luke said that Din had brown hair, brown eyes, Type Who Knows What blood, and was about six feet tall. He had no idea how much he weighed. He’d never had need for that information. He knew that Din was human, which was probably helpful in a galaxy far, far away. He knew that he spoke Mando’a as his first language, then Basic, then a whopping fifteen others. And he knew that Din was probably looking after their son.
Vader asked Peter over a mug of coffee (also labeled in the funeral home’s cabinet as ‘not spice.’) if Spidersenses could overcome a dearth of information. It took Peter a few moments to realize that he was sympathizing with him.
“You’re not going to find Din,” Vader told Luke. “You need to look for the kid. You’ll find the kid first, you always have.”
Luke took his coffee and poured it down the drain.
Peter decided that he didn’t want to get in between that burgeoning battle. He told Luke to text him if he remembered anything else.
  --
Wade was pissed that Peter had been meeting and ‘cavorting’ with Luke Skywalker without him. He claimed ownership of the Din Djarin mystery in order to cram himself into Luke’s good graces. But quickly, he ran into the same stumbling blocks as Peter.
Din Djarin was six feet tall with brown eyes and brown hair.
That was what they currently had to go on.
Wade would have torn out his hair if he had any, but he stopped himself and accepted the challenge. Peter watched over his shoulder as he chicken-pecked his way into a list of social security numbers held by the NYC State ID issuing department and started methodically filtering names that did not sound like ‘Din.’
He started broad with all ‘D’s and then narrowed it down further and further and further until he was left with a shitload of Daniels.
He stared at the screen before him and vibrated.
Peter massaged his shoulders before he cracked.
It helped. Wade started filtering by height, then by eye color. Then by hair, and only ended up with several hundred people.
He vibrated again, but this time, Peter couldn’t help him.
He sighed. Wade said that there had to be a better way to do this. He got up.
  --
Wade made about four thousand missing posters with the name Din Djarin on them which he recruited the whole team to plaster up around NYC. This was not a request.
Miles asked him why they were doing this for a tv character and had to be let in on the gig.
He lost his shit.
Louis tried to retain his shit.
Angel still didn’t know how the whole jedi thing worked.
Dave hummed and haw’ed and took his time in calling bullshit. Wade asked him to look deep into his eyes and ask if he was entertaining bullshit that fine evening.
Dave changed his opinion and took a stack.
  --
There was no way that shit was supposed to work. There was just no way. A) because Wade had the worst ideas of all mankind and B) because Peter had the worst luck of all mankind. So the two of them together should have destroyed all the prospects of success for that job.
But instead, while they were hatching a new plot involving setting up a sham sociological study for people who responded to Star Wars names, Wade’s phone went off.
He grabbed it and opened the message and lo and behold right there was a note that read,
“I hope you are not a reporting body because this is going to sound certifiably insane, but I think I might be the guy you’re looking for?”
Wade screamed.
Peter scolded him not to get too excited too soon. They had to see the man first.
Wade texted furiously, asking for a picture and got a message back that said, “please do not dox me.”
They got no answer until Wade promised not to dox the guy.
And then they got an image of a man with brown hair and brown eyes with olive skin. His face was remarkably square. The picture wasn’t just him, though, he had in his arms a little boy with a head covered in tight ringlets. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black and he was maybe two years old.
The caption said, “apologies, my son needed to be in the picture.”
Wade cooed and entered Dad Mode to ask how old the baby was and what he liked to do and Peter lost the fathers to that small talk for a while before Wade oh-so-casually asked, “So you feel like you’re from outer space?”
“It sounds strange,” the guy on the other said wrote back, “But I do. Like every day I wake up and look in the mirror and something is wrong. I feel like I’m always forgetting something when I leave the house. I watched the tv show of the guy who’s name was on your fliers and the kid in it reminds me so much of my son. It’s eerie. They make the same sounds. He made the same sounds before we even watched that show.”
Wade whistled.
“I think this is him, Pete,” he said. “He called Baby Yoda a ‘kid’ not a yoda.”
Peter stared. He hadn’t even caught that. That was smart as hell.
“So what now?” he asked.
Wade sniffed.
“Get Skywalker to send you a selfie,” he said.
  --
PP: Luke are you pretty right now?
LS: My face is intact
PP: take a selfie and send it to me
LS: cannot do that. Face is intact is a baseline situation. Let me find an old one. Oh, they all have my ex in them. This is awkward.
PP: it doesn’t matter I can crop it.
LS: no I have to be cute or I’ll perish hold on
PP: are you sure you’re not Johnny Storm?
LS: yes, he’s got loads of muscles. Sent.
 Selfie acquired.
Luke looked very smiley in it. His eyes were blown out from the lighting, but it showed his sloping smile and his low, back-set dimples. Peter sent it to Wade. Wade sent it to his new friend.
They waited.
They waited five minutes.
Then ten.
Then half an hour.
Then nearly two.
And finally, Wade’s phone rang. He picked it up and set it on speaker so that Peter could hear.
“Hello?” Wade said.
There was a long pause.
“Where did you get that picture?” a low, almost smoky voice demanded on the other side.
“A friend,” Wade said sleazily. “You know him? He’s a cute little thing, ain’t he?”
It took the dude on the other side of the line worryingly long to respond.
“What do you want?” he finally asked.
Wade brought his head down in interest.
“What’re you willing do to?” he asked.
They waited. Peter didn’t know what was taking this guy so long to—
“Anything.”
Ah.
Okay. That.
That sounded about right.
Wade cackled.
“You know his name?” he asked.
“I do,” the man said.
“What’s his name then, pal?” Wade asked.
“It’s none of your fucking business.”
Holy shit. Holy shit. Peter clutched the back of the couch. Wade was grinning so hard, Peter could see it through his mask.
“You want him, you need to show me that you know who he is,” Wade said. “I ain’t got ‘im here, but I know where he is. Come on, big boy. Who is he?”
Peter could hear the man take in a deep, shaky breath.
“His name is Luke,” Din fucking Djarin, the Mandalorian himself, said.
  --
Din fucking Djarin’s name at the moment was Danny Jabaran. He stood six feet tall with a medium build and that baby of his in his arms.
He was not afraid of Wade.
He was not afraid of Peter.
The suits didn’t scare him; this man was a space warrior. The leader of the space warriors. Peter was humbled to stand in his presence, old jeans and tattoos and all.
“Vigilantes,” he acknowledged.
“Deadpool,” Wade said, offering a hand. “And this is?”
“Grogu,” Djarin said.
Baby Yoda lifted his big liquid eyes up to Wade and blinked twice. Then he wriggled around and hid in Djarin’s neck. Djarin put a hand on his back and didn’t drop eye contact.
“Tell me everything,” Djarin said.
  --
Ned screamed. Michelle screamed. Peter reminded them that he had neighbors and invited Mr. Mand’alor to sit on the couch for a bit while he called Luke.
Michelle claimed the spot next to Djarin and asked Baby Yoda Grogu for his little hand. He studied her and hid again, making a prolonged sound of distress that Djarin cut off by saying, “Hey. Manners.”
This somehow made baby Grogu turn back to Michelle to stare at her offered hand.
He took it. She shook with him and then took hers away.
Grogu perked up and reached for it again.
“You’re the Mandalorian,” Ned said.  
Djarin looked right at him.
“A Mandalorian,” he corrected.
Ned blinked back tears.
“You’re so cool,” he creaked.
Djarin frowned.
“You...are too?” he tried.
Ned wept into a fist.
Peter left them to call Luke in his bedroom. Luke picked up on the third ring with the start of an ingrained greeting that sounded a whole lot like a customer service recording. He caught himself, though.
“I have someone I’d like you to talk to,” Peter said. “I think you might want to sit down.”
Luke’s unusual quiet on the other side made Peter grin.
“Are you sitting?” he asked.
“I’m sitting.”
“Alright, one moment,” Peter said, walking out into the living room. Djarin had edged far, far away from Ned, as far as he possibly could without being rude. He looked up when Peter came over and sat down on the arm next to him.
“Say hi,” Peter said.
Djarin frowned at him and then the phone.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
Peter waited. Djarin lifted his head over to see the phone’s screen.
“Hello?” he tried.
“Din?”
The Spidey Sense crashed through Peter like a tidal wave.
Djarin had gone completely still.
“Din? Is that you? Can you hear me?”
“Shit,” Djarin said, lifting a hand to cover his eyes. “Goddamnit. Jesus.”
“DIN.”
“Dank Fucking Farrik.”
“Oh my god.”  
Baby Grogu’s face snapped toward the phone with huge eyes. He grabbed at Djarin’s collar, then his jaw and started bouncing a little in his arms.
“Bu?” he asked.
Djarin couldn’t make himself move.
“Grogu?” Luke asked. “Hey, baby, is that you, bubba?”
Grogu grabbed Djarin’s face urgently, so that he couldn’t hide his raw eyes anymore.
He pointed at the phone.
“Yeah, I hear ‘im, kid,” Djarin said.
“MMMMM. Gib.”
“Ah. That’s not ours. We don’t grab. We ask,” Djarin reminded as Grogu pleaded for the phone. Peter snickered and gave it to him. He just held it, staring.
“Do you wanna see him?” Peter asked. “Luke, can we maybe video chat?”
“Y-yeah,” Luke said. “Hold on. Oh god, my face. Uh, hey Din are you still near-sighted, hon?”
Djarin huffed a laugh that turned into a whole-body tremor.
“I got contacts,” he said a little hysterically.
“You got WHAT?” Luke yipped, “Okay, no. No, I gotta. Be still, this heart. Okay let me just take off the butterflies. On moment, Grogu, Daddy’s just gotta dunk his face in the damn sink.”
MJ bounced her eyebrows at Peter as he gently took the phone back from Grogu and tapped on the camera. He offered it back the kid and received a deep gaze of wonder in return. Djarin turned the screen right-side up in his hands.
Luke finally turned his camera on and revealed himself to be very swollen in the jaw with damp hair and a cut very close to the rim of his left eye.
Grogu screeched.
Luke laughed.
“Look at you,” he said, “I’m gonna cry. Oh my god. Where’re your ears, pal?”
Grogu analyzed this reaction for 2 full seconds and then shoved the camera right into his dad’s forehead. Djarin took it from him and liberated himself so that he could see Luke who was clutching at his face, absolutely already sobbing, bless him.
He looked up to see Grogu and instead got Djarin and finally just broke right in half.
Peter swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. His eyes were starting to warm a little.
Djarin found a watery smile in himself.
“I know you’re not cryin’ because of me,” he said gently.
“Where’s your helmet?” Luke sobbed, wiping viciously at his eyes. “People are watching, you harlot.”
“I know,” Djarin said. “I lost it.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Luke.”
“This is all my fault. I should’ve—I should’ve—”
“Luke,” Djarin said again, full of warmth, “You died for us.”
Luke shook harder than ever.
“There is no greater sacrifice a warrior can make,” Djarin told him. “I was honored for you to have made it for me and our son. This has always been the Way.”
“This is the Way,” Luke stammered.
“I missed you,” Djarin said. “Where in God’s name have you been?”
“I was a preschool teacher in the Bronx, man, I dunno what happened,” Luke said tipping his face up to force the tears back in.
“In the Bronx? Where?”
“Uh, off Allerton and Lurting?”
Djarin started shaking with laugher.
“I work off Laconia and Mace,” he said.
“You what?”
“We’ve been blocks apart this whole time.”
Awwwwww.
“I’m going to stab myself,” Luke moaned. “I’m going to stab myself in the arm. I was right there and I sold out for my part-time gig barely weeks ago. Oh my god. I’m going to—move, old man, I’m suffering—Wait. Din, did you find your parents?”
Djarin stood up and held the phone out straight.
“Where are you right now?” he asked.
  --
Look at all these people hugging each other.
Look at them crying all over. There was a baby in there, wailing because he was so happy to be back in the arms of his other dad.
Aww. AWWWW. Peter was getting emotional again, he was going to see himself out.
“Wait. Peter.”
He looked up to find Luke holding a hand to him.
“Thank you,” he said. “You really are a superhero, you know that?”
Yeah.
Sometimes, he did.
 --
 The city had plenty of problems as it was, yeah, more now with a bunch of jedi running around, linking up with each other and spreading memory like mushroom spores. But it didn’t feel that much different.
What it felt like now was Ned showing Grogu how to hold his hand at the seeing stone in the funeral home’s back yard to make the Force happen while Obi-Wan reported cheerfully that the cat perched on it was still not levitating.
It also felt like watching Luke freak out over text to Ned and Michelle about his ex losing their mind at him dumping them after two years to marry this random mechanic within a week of getting together.
Peter got to see this from new angles, too, one of which was the bottom of the funeral home’s attic stairs, which Anakin Skywalker liked to sit on while his grandkids—both Grogu and Han Solo and Leia Organa (pardon, Leia Naberry)’s son—came over to show him things that he was very well aware of. These were stolen from him by Auntie Ahsoka and her friends who Ned knew and Peter did not.
And there was something warming about how even these folks—people from a galaxy far, far away, occasionally needed a Spiderman.
   --
142 notes · View notes
haikyuu-sickfics · 3 years
Note
Can you do one where Y/N is really sick and kuroo and Bokuto take care of Y/N but Y/n doesn’t want them to know? If you can ☺️✨ and I love you work bye❤️
Throbbing pain pounded against Y/n's head in unison with the blaring pitch of the alarm on the side of their bed. Pressure pressed gently against their sinuses, hinting towards the runny nose which is sure to come. A small itch persisted up and down their throat, threatening to develop into a coughing fit with each breath.
All instincts told Y/n to take a day off- it was a weekend and there were no Nekoma manager duties which needed to be get done promptly, perfect day to sit back and watch a couple movies. Except, they had plans. Months ago, Tetsurou, Koutarou, Yukie and Y/n and had discussed this day in hopes of having a bonding day with the captains and third year managers. It was an annual occurance for the four to all have the day off, there was no way Y/n was going to let a little cold get in their way.
Rubbing their eyes with a groan, they pulled themselves upright against vertigo. They sat with their legs over the edge- rooted to the floor for a moment, slamming the alarm until the incessant beeping ceased. Rubbing the sleep from their sore eyes, they fumbled their hand on the nightstand in search of their phone.
Various texts lit up on the screen, revealing Yukie's inability to show up to their agreed meeting and the two aces grand disappointment at such news.
There was no way Y/n could call out now. The boys wouldn't be able to handle such disappointment.
Groaning once more, considerably more exaggerated this time, Y/n pulled themselves to their feet, stumbling down the hall to the nearest bathroom. The wall held them up more than their legs did.
Looking into the mirror, they weren't too surprised at the sight which greeted them. Disappointing? Yes. But when feeling so awful, it wasn't expected to look like a runway ready model.
Though, the dark circles around their eyes did kinda look like some cool grungy makeup. Maybe they could pull off this look... Or maybe that was the fever talking.
Not that they had a fever, or so they didn't think so. Their motto was 'if there aint proof, it aint there.' So until someone shoved a thermometer into their mouth and showed them the high numbers, they were completely fine.
A coughing fit forced its way of of their body, ricocheting around their chest as their body's way of saying 'what type of logic is that you expired carton of single serving size 2% milk.'
Turning on the faucet and cupping their unsteady hands under the stream and splashing their face. Closing their eyes, Y/n rubbed the cool water over their scalp. Dabbing their face with a towel resting on a rack behind them, they took special care in rubbing the sleep from their eyes.
Satisfied with the dryness of their face, they set off with the beginning of their routine.
---
--
-
The air was cold.
So very cold.
Y/n's knees shook as they walked to the meeting place, nearly collapsing from the relief of the familiar park table. Quickening their pace, they slid to a sitting position, folding their hands on the dewy table and keeping an eye out for her peers.
The pair of players were known for being late, though. Y/n didn't know how long they could keep their heavy head up. So they decided to rest it on their hands. Just to get a little energy. And hey. While they were at it, may as well close their eyes. It's not like they'll fall asleep or anything. They were good at staying aware with their eyes closed. That was for sure. They had remembered whole lectures while their eyes were resting. This will be no different.
-
--
---
"Are they okay?" Tetsurou asked as he approached the table where his two friends sat.
Koutarou shrugged, "they were like this when I got here, I poked their shoulder but they kinda growled at me. I don't know, it was scary. So I just waited here for you."
Testurou walked over to Y/n, crouching down next to them, examining their face. Heat radiated off of their sleeping face, causing his eyebrows to rise.
"Hey bro," he spoke quietly, "I think they're sick."
"No way dude, Y/n like never gets sick."
"There's a first time for everything, I guess."
He shook Y/n's shoulder gently, ignoring their sleepy complaints.
"C'mon you gotta get up, unless you want us to carry you home."
Y/n's eyes blinked open.
"It's about time you got here, I almost fell asleep in the time it took you to arrive," Y/n slurred, their voice gravelly.
"Yup came real close to falling asleep there. Say, why don't we go to your house?" Tetsurou offered, scooping his hands under their shoulders.
They laughed drowsily, "why are you tickling me? And why go home? Home is for like. Homers... Homies."
Koutarou spoke up, placing his hand over Y/n's, "Aren't we homies though?"
"Ohh yea! That's right. Let's go homies home!" Y/n began to push themselves up, not realizing the majority of their strength came from Testurous firm hands.
"I'll lead the way," they offered, tripping over their own feet as they stepped ahead.
"Mayyyybe that's not such a good idea when you're sick," Tetsurou argued, him and Koutarou taking hold of Y/n's arm.
"What do you mean sick? Are you insulting me?"
"Okay, okay! You're not sick. Be my guest, walk on your own," Tetsurou released his hold, nodding towards Koutarou to do the same.
Brushing off their shoulders Y/n began walking once more.
"You sure we should let them go ahead like that?" Koutarou whispered, anxiously eyeing Y/n's shaky footwork.
"Three. Two," Tetsurou stepped behind Y/n, "One."
Right on queue, Y/n collapsed into his arms.
"Now help me out. We sure hurry to their house before someone thinks we're kidnappers."
----
--
-
Warmth surrounded Y/n as their eyes fluttered open. A bright light flooded their vision Why was it warm all of a sudden? Weren't they at the park? Did they sleep through the whole morning?
No, that wasn't the sun. That was an artificial light. And they weren't laying on a bench, it was too soft for that.
"Good morning sleepyhead!" A familiar voice sang.
Y/n shot up, nausea induced vertigo sending them blinking to regain composer.
"Koubo? What are you doing here?" They asked, planting a firm hand on the side of their head.
"It's a really funny story, but there's time for that later. Here, have some soup."
He sat down at the edge of Y/n's bed, tucking a steaming bowl of soup under their chin before bringing a spoonful up to their mouth.
Y/n let their mouth open, mostly out of confusion.
The soup was sweet, but also a bit savory. Surprisingly good considering the chef. Assuming Koutarou was the chef. Who else would be?
"Oh! You're up," Testurou exclaimed, entering the room with a 'Kiss the Chef' apron on.
Y/n practically spat out their soup.
"You're both here?" They choked out, "what happened?"
"What happened was someone doesn't know when to take a sick day," Tetsurou informed, taking seat at the foot of the bed.
Y/n shook their head, "I don't know what you guys are saying."
"YOU. ARE. SICK." Koutarou enunciated clearly.
"Oh."
"Want some tea?"
"I just wanna sleep."
"Okay we can go," Koutarou began to stand.
Y/n grabbed his arm.
"Stay."
50 notes · View notes
shades-of-stony · 3 years
Text
Heavy Angst (And Not-So-Heavy but Still Angsty) Stony Fanfics!
I’m absolutely love a good Tony whump and hurt story so prepare to see a lot of those here! Get your tissues ready!
Push by phoenixreal
Summary: Tony Stark was known for pissing people off, it was a given. Then, after the man everyone thought was nothing more than a selfish prick decided to nearly kill himself saving Manhattan from a nuclear bomb, even the most sure of Tony's bastard status had to rethink it. And then, his team who were sure they had him pegged, they were invited (ordered) to move into Stark Tower with him. To their surprise, they found he had furnished full floors for each of them, somehow knowing their tastes exactly, including a floor dedicated to the resident Asgardian who would only be there some of the time. Surprised, and please, they all wonder at the enigma that is their host. After a couple months, Pepper Potts stops coming around so much, and they realize that something has exchanged between them because they are rather professional to each other. Pepper still frets over Tony, but instead tells the others to keep an eye on him rather than doing it herself. They easily forget that Tony is, and always has been, simply a human civilian. Then things get strange when they find themselves locked down within Stark tower, and after a harrowing viewing of a mysterious video, they find their resident playboy is completely gone.
Note: Prepare to cry and be hurt! This fanfic dabbles with Tony’s insecurity, self-worth, and issues. Please heed the warnings!
The words you choose to say by masterlokisev159
Summary: After the SHRA, the events around Steve’s death and Tony discovering he deleted part of his brain, Tony finally decides he's done enough. With Osborn taken care of, Tony leaves the Avengers and decides to quit being Ironman effective immediately.
He tells himself it doesn't hurt when Steve agrees. Why should it? After everything he's done, the team's better off without him.
However before he can truly move on, there are things he needs to take care of, and it's not long before he realizes he's dangerously close to losing his company. He's desperate and willing to do anything to keep it together.
So when, after months of silence, Steve asks him to drop everything and come work for Shield, Tony finds he doesn't have a choice. He agrees, no matter how much he knows he shouldn't. His reputation isn't exactly the best after the SHRA and he's heard stories of what he'd done as Director. He's knows what he's done. He's knows he's responsible for what happened to Steve.
He just wishes someone had warned him first. He hadn't been prepared to deal with the consequences.
Note: A 1000/10 angst fanfic that made me weep at 3 am in the morning. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. READ IT AND PREPARE TO CRY BUCKETS
Protocol SOTERIA by GoldenFinches
Summary: Friday's primary objective at all times is to protect one Anthony Edward Stark. And she will fulfill that objective no matter what it takes. Even if it means including certain people she thought she would never have to deal with again.
(Basically the Rogue Avengers get some sense knocked into them with the help of Friday and handful of videos.)
Note: A HIGHLY RECOMMENDED ANGSTY FANFIC. I CRIED SO MUCH READING THIS. 
Straight to Voicemail by YouMakeMeDokiDoki
Summary: "I DID!" Tony screamed, cutting Steve off mid-sentence and whirling around to glare at him. 
"I CALLED YOU! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!"
Or
The one where no one answered their phone and things got out of hand. 
Note: this will absolutely break you heart.
Sunshine and Luck by ImportedfromMunich2
Summary: Months after Siberia, Steve and the rest of the defectors are pardoned and allowed back onto the Avengers, with the help of Tony Stark. Now that they're back - nothing is the same as before. Tony is even avoiding Steve at all costs.
Then one night - Tony barges into Steve's bedroom while he sleeps, and they have spontaneous, passionate sex.
Only, the Tony Stark he just fucked isn't from this universe.
Now, Steve has to find a way to explain to Tony that he had sex with his counterpart from another dimension.
Note: A good Steve whump fic! 
When You Mess With Him... by REM_It_Up
Summary: During an event with the Avengers, Tony is kidnapped by an unknown group of men right in front of the team. The group who took Tony taunt the Avengers by leaving small clues to Tony's whereabouts. When the kidnappers finally get in contact with the team, they are forced to watch Tony get tortured on camera.
The Avengers desperately search for their missing friend before they never see him again.
The kidnappers are smart and fast, they have everything figured out in order to get away with their plan...They just forgot one thing--
Colonel James Rhodes
Note: Now this is really heavy! Brace yourselves for a kidnapped and tortured tony! Also, protective honey bear aka Rhodey bonus here!
To Need is Not To Want by Brixon
Summary: All his life Tony has been used as a means to someone's end. Always someone's tool in a game. Carelessly thrown aside, once they had no longer use of him. He keeps it bottled up because, because he's Tony Stark. But he's always had this desire that one day someone would come who would stay because they wanted and needed him. He thought he had that with the Avengers, but after everything with the Accords and everyone leaving after Civil War that hope of having something of his to stay was gone.
Despite being burned constantly, Tony still has this wanting. So when Ryder, an old college friend, comes back into his life and actually seems to want to stay because he wants AND needs Tony, Tony is beyond thrilled. Because Ryder is staying. It doesn't matter if the bruises stay too.
But what happens when the Avengers return and Tony finds himself wondering once again exactly what he wants and what he needs.
Note: I’m sure, from the summary, you can tell that it’s a heartbreak here. 
Hiding Things Is All Too Easy - Until It Isn't by audhds
Summary: Tony hasn't been the same since Bucky arrived at Stark Tower. That much is obvious. But Steve is overjoyed to have his best friend back and is somewhat oblivious to how Tony is withdrawing away from him. Because surely Tony is just overworked as usual. He must be quiet and jumpy because he is sleep deprived. And of course he has a few cuts and bruises on the visible parts of his skin - he fights and works for the Avengers as a living. It's part of the job description. Until it isn't.
Will Steve discover the physical and mental trauma that Tony is going through before it is too late?
Note: This is even heavier! Please read the tags carefully! Also, this has some serious Bucky bashing! If you are a Bucky fan but still interested in this, please prepare yourself. 
No Trait As Much As This by KandiSheek
Summary: Tony gets hit with truth serum. It's a terrible time for everyone.
Note: A bit lighter than the others but still angst nonetheless. The added truth serum element makes this even more interesting!
Good For You by @orbingarrow
Summary: Steve doesn't understand why Tony dates people who abuse him. Tony doesn't understand why Steve cares.
The rest is bad choices, good choices, rehab, milkshakes, paintball, YouTube videos, couples therapy and learning to put the past in the past. Or: How Tony finds his happy ending.
Note: Another Tony-in-abusive-relationships fanfic!!
hold the things you wanna say by SailorChibi
Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay.
He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really.
What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always.
This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.
Note: Anyone up for some Howard-travels-to-the-future fanfic?
Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies by MemoryDragon
Summary: Seven-year-old Tony Stark wakes up on a Hydra base, lost, afraid, and alone. He has to overcome his fears before it's too late for the Avengers and Captain America.
Note: De-aged Tony just screams heavy angst and hurt!
Advanced Protocol by masterlokisev159
Summary: The Incursions are coming. The Illuminati have surrendered and everyone has come together to take one last stand.
Everyone except Tony. And Steve is tired of waiting. He wants answers.
There's something the Illuminati aren't telling him.
Note: If you don’t know what the Avalon is in Marvel, I recommend you search it up, or you could read this fic. You will be heartbroken with what you find. 
Flower Child by itsallAvengers
Summary: The point was this, though:
In a hundred million universes, in a hundred million different lives, there would never be a single one of them in which Tony Stark deserved anyone like Steve Rogers. Ever.
So this? Nonsensical.
Note: Another fanfic that highlights child abuse and Tony’s insecurities! 
What Pays All Debts by KandiSheek
Summary: No one is supposed to survive the date written on their skin. And yet Tony's numbers keep piling up.
Note: Angst + Death dates? You could probably foretell how much of a gut-wrench journey this is.
Falling Into You by sabrecmc
Summary: Tony and Steve end up as fuck buddies after the events of The Winter Soldier until Steve calls it off. When Loki's spell wipes all of Steve's memories since the last time Loki was in town, Tony decides it will be so much easier to just not tell Steve they had something of a relationship. Spoiler: It isn't.
Or, how Steve fell in love with Tony and forgot about it, and how Tony fell in love with Steve and realized it.
Note: There are just something about amnesia fanfics that makes it so goddamn heartbreaking. 
Art Freaks and Comic Geeks by Coil
Summary: Tony Stark had made himself a phenomenally renowned writer. The world had fallen in love with the heroes that appeared in his novels; captivated by his vivid words of life and colour.
His next ambition was to publish a comic book series starring the much-beloved heroes of his novels. There was just one problem. Brilliant as Tony may have been with his words, his skills in the field of drawing were less than great. It didn’t help that he barely knew what his characters ought to look like in the first place.
Enter: Mister Steve Rogers – an up-and-coming artist/illustrator with the potential to be brilliant.
Their paths happen to cross at Comic-Con.
Note: this is a much lighter angsty fanfic but is still angsty. It is a Modern AU mixed with Artist!Steve and Writer!Tony.
Unwritten Endings by XtaticPearl
Summary: Tony takes the bullet meant for Captain America at the end of their war and through his death, brings together the team again. Only, he isn't really dead and when he comes back, the equations between the team-mates begin to alter and reform, writing a new story altogether.
Note: Of course, you can’t have an angst fanfic rec without a fake death fanfic!
WIP
Need Is Just A Word by masterlokisev159
Summary: A month has gone by since the war and Tony has never felt more alone. of course, with the unrest within the government, the disappearance of the Avengers and the obvious lack of Steve Rogers, it was only a matter of time before the UN finally flipped out and decided to act on the last available Avenger. Too bad they didn't realise a promise had been made by Captain America to be there when Iron man needed him.
Note: a gut-wrenching Post CA:CW fanfic where tony is suffering the consequences of the civil war.
Take me out tonight by masterlokisev159
Summary: When Steve gets invited to a formal party with the government, Fury tells him he can bring a plus one of his choosing. While listening quietly in the corner, Tony heaves a sigh of relief because the team could really do with some positive publicity and any of the Avengers are a good choice for Steve. Tony just wants Steve to be happy after all, even if he knows Steve's gonna pick Natasha. He knows Steve doesn't like him and he's aware there's never going to be anything more between them. They're barely even friends really.
So of course he's absolutely shocked when a gold filigree letter rests in his palms two days later. He's the worst person for this.
Why on earth did Steve choose him?
Note: AHHHHHHHH, INSECURE TONY IS JUST A FAVORITE. Also, confident!Steve that knows who he wants is just a whole new mood!
The Soul Stone's Sacrifice by masterlokisev159
The soul stone demands a sacrifice that Tony and Steve are not prepared for, but in the end, one life is sacrificed for the many. Steve lets Tony go for the last time and mourns a future they never had.
That is until Tony comes back.
Note: A scenario where Tony and Steve where the ones to go to Vormir. 
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xenia-cenia · 3 years
Text
Kaeya x Fem!Reader - To Heal
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A/N-part 4... god razor and albedos are gonna kill me i FEEL it also wtf his backstory is so SAD.... enemies to lovers.... but only one sees them as an enemy..... god the brainrot is so good today 
Trigger/Content Warnings: Spoilers for Kaeyas backstory, minor character death, light swearing, PTSD/nightmares, blood, kidnapping
I promise it’s only half as angsty as it sounds
Word Count: 2,267
Request: No
Summary: You hated him. He loved you. It’s every romcom but this time, there’s trauma.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kaeya Alberich had the world beneath his fingertips. 
Very few people could resist his charms, good looks, or smile. Especially not healers who hung towards the back of the party and saved every life he put in danger. 
Kaeya Alberich was a genius. People would willingly divulge secrets that would ruin their lives to his kind gaze and warm smile. He was manipulative, he was a liar, he was a traitor.
No person in Mondstadt hated Kaeya Alberich more than Kaeya Alberich himself. Though, you were a close second.
“Captain!” You barged into his office as he tied his hair up into a ponytail, “You can’t keep endangering people like this!”
He turned to you with a confused smile, “Like what? They’re Knights, aren’t they?”
“It doesn’t matter! Eventually, my healing won’t be enough!” You marched over to him and slammed your hands down on his desk, “You are selfish! You disgust me.” He shot you a big smirk which caused you to spin on your heels and leave the room, your anger nearly tangible.
Kaeya leaned back in his chair and sighed, a goofy smile lingering on his face.
No person in Mondstadt loved you more than the soldiers who you saved. 
Though, Kaeya Alberich was a close second. 
He didn’t know why he loved you so much. By all accounts, he should hate you. He should despise the way you brought comfort into everyone's eyes, the way you always arrived just in time to save countless lives, how your power in battle nearly outmatched his own. 
He should be jealous. He should be angry. He should not be head-over-heels in love with you. He should not be trying to plan more carefully so your healing workload is lightened, and it shouldn’t even cross his mind to leave his door open so you don’t hurt your hands as you barged in here with your justified rage.
Kaeya melted into his chair as he tried to contain the thoughts that ceaselessly ran through his mind. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms, sweat dripping off his face as he saved your life. And you’d smile at him, a shy and genuine smile, as you thanked him profusely. 
But he was no fool. He knew how deep your hatred ran. And he couldn’t blame you, by all accounts he was selfish. He was disgusting. He risked lives for his enjoyment, he loved seeing the fear in recruits as they ran from danger.
Did that make him a bad person? Yes. Yes, absolutely. He slept every night trying to forget their screams as they called for help. No. Not called for help - begged him for help. 
You seethed as you walked out of Kaeyas office. Too many lives were senselessly taken every day, too many people's blood-stained your hands. 
Just like... no.
“Stop it, (Y/N). You can’t think like that.” You shook the thoughts out of your head as you mumbled to yourself. You looked to your side and caught sight of your reflection in a window. You stared for a moment, a blank expression on your face before it fell into a glare. 
Kaeya Alberich brought anger into your heart. Kaeya Alberich made memories you’d rather die creep up to the surface and hit you with guilt. You hated Kaeya Alberich because he was...
“Dammit.” You slapped your cheek, “Cut it out.”
You walked back to your home and thought over what you’d do for the rest of the evening. Maybe a warm bath and tea? However, you did like the idea of belting songs from the privacy of your home... the possibilities were near endless! But, as usual, you would wash your hands first.
It didn’t matter if you hadn’t touched anything. It didn’t matter if they were already clean. You would wash them every time you had the chance. 
When you finally arrived home, scrubbed your hands, you decided to put the relaxing bath off for a different night. You collapsed onto your warm bed, happily covering yourself in your heavy sheets as sleep overtook you.
If you had any regrets in your life, learning how to fight would be your top one. As the only fighter in your small town, you were relied on for everything. (Y/N) go hunting, (Y/N) take out these slimes, (Y/N) head to Mondstadt, and purchase goods.
And you were there. You were there when the small army attacked. Why were they attacking? You weren’t sure. 
Families, friends, enemies. They all blurred together as you raised your weapon. In the end, you were the only one left. You weren’t out of breath nor saddened by the deaths.
Instead, you looked around the corpses that littered the ground and tried to hide your exhilaration. 
For the first time, you had to fight like your life depended on it. For the first time in your life, you could let your frustration out. And there, covered in blood, was a small icy ball. You leaned over and picked it up, wiping the blood off with your hands. A Vision.
And for the first night in years, you found you couldn’t sleep. Every time your eyes would shut, you would see their bodies. Every time you plugged your ears you could hear them call your name. Every time you breathed you’d remember that they never would again.
You spent years atoning for that day and dedicated yourself to saving lives. You mastered healing, it took the same precision as killing you quickly realized, and went to Mondstadt hoping that the City of Freedom could free you from these deeds.
It couldn’t.
Nothing could. 
Eventually, you found yourself working for the Knights of Favonius. As long as you didn’t swing a weapon, you were fine. You were just saving lives. You were keeping your promise.
So, why did it feel so good when their lives all depended on your choice? Why did you feel so powerful knowing you were essentially the God of these men? 
Did you only join the Knights because you knew violence and bloodshed would always be a part of you? 
You did everything you can to suppress these feelings. You swore off fighting, ignoring people's begging to duel you one-on-one. You’d lie and say holding weapons scared you, but it was always Kaeya who saw through your facade.
And that’s why you hated him. He was as bloodthirsty, evil, and selfish as you. He saw through each lie you spent years carefully crafting.
You hated him because he was you. 
One week later, it was time for another raid. 
As long as you were on the field, none of your allies would die. The raid started fine enough, you all charged into a Domain under Kaeyas orders. He froze falling rocks or spare enemies that could have killed his troops, as you stayed in the back and healed every scraped knee and minor wound.
Stay in the back. They had said. It’s safer in the back. Kaeya is smart. He’ll never lead us into a trap.
And you hated him. You truly hated him. But, damn, you trusted his plans. Even if it meant you had to work harder to keep everyone alive, you knew that the job would get done. Together, you were unstoppable. 
Maybe you put too much confidence in him. You couldn’t muster a thought as a bubble of water enveloped you. You tried to break it, but all you did was force your oxygen to run out sooner. 
With one last hint of desperation, you threw your vision onto the floor. And then, you fell unconscious.
Kaeya was no idiot. He saw the number of his troops dwindling and knew what happened. He ordered the stragglers to retreat, take the wounded and try their best to not die without him holding their hands.
When they were out of his sight, he immediately started to retrace his steps. 
He didn’t need to come very far to notice the Vision that was kicked around and sitting on the floor. Kaeya walked over to it and picked it up, rubbing his finger over the outside. 
“Cyro Vision...” He tossed it into the air, grabbed it, and continued walking. Once again, he noticed a trail of water that was slowly beginning to dry.
After not even 5 minutes of walking, he saw what he needed. A slightly askew rock. Kaeya chuckled to himself as he pressed his on it, the rocks pushed themselves aside and revealed a staircase heading down.
“Well, here goes.” He muttered under his breath as he went down the staircase.
The Abyss Mages had taken you out of the bubble and tied you to a table. You were waking up, groggy and confused, but when you remembered felt anger bubble in your stomach.
“What the hell!” You yelled at the two Abyss Mages who captured you. They both jumped and turned to face you, “Why am I here! I swear if any of my men died...”
“You’re awake.” One of them chirped.
“You’re awake-” you mocked, “did you think I was sleep talking or something?! Let me out of this!”
“We know about your true power.” The other one chimed in, “We know what happened that night. It was our allies who you killed. You must face punishment.”
You stared blankly before breaking out into laughter, “Wait - that was you guys? God, you’re pathetic! Can’t believe I was relying on someone to save me.” You began to struggle against the ropes.
“The ropes are sealed, they can only be undone with the work of a Vision. We know you are Visionless - none of the Archons would grant something as lowly as you power.”
“Oh,” you bit your lip, “that might be a problem.”
“So you accept your fate!” 
“Let our justice reign down-”
Kaeya, who was standing on the staircase watching this all happen, let a laugh slip out.
“-who was that?!”
He walked down the rest of the stairs and clapped his hands, “Great show you two have put on here.”
“K-Kaeya!” You yelled. “Did you grab it?”
He threw your vision to you, and just being near to it made the ropes fall to the ground. 
“I-Impossible!” 
You stretched, stood, and smiled widely at your kidnappers, “I hope I’m not rusty.”
Within seconds, the Abyss Mages were dead. Ice bit at your skin, and, once again, there was blood on your hands.
You looked at your hands and felt your body start to shake. Kaeya walked over to you but stopped when he saw the tears in your eyes.
“Don’t... don’t look at me.” You turned away from him, “I’m... I’m no better than them.”
His heart snapped in two, “(Y/N)...”
“You heard what they said. I’m a killer. I killed everyone I cared about and after everything, after every promise I made... I just... I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, don’t look at me.”
“If you’re bad then I’m the worst.” He stepped over the corpses, “I didn’t cry when my Father died. I put everyone in danger for fun. I left... well, I can’t call him my brother now, can I?”
You slowly turned to him, “Kaeya, I-”
He kept his gaze on the ground, “I tried to make them happy. And I did- I do- really love him. Even if I’m not his brother, he’s still mine. I didn’t mean to hurt him. That’s all I ever seem to do... I hurt you. I hurt them. And I’ll do it again. I... I know all of their names. You probably don’t believe me, I wouldn’t blame you. I am a bad person.”
In a few steps, you reached him. He looked up at you and felt his eyes widen as his hand hovered above his cheek. You hit him. No, you slapped him.
“Stop talking about yourself like that.”
“Why? You think like this too.”
“Because you’re me.” You stiffened, “Everything you do is something I’ve considered. Every plan you make is one I dream of. Every life you put into my hands is one I know I can leave.”
“But you still...”
You kneeled next to him and grabbed his hands, “Because I am more than these thoughts. I know how much it’d hurt if I let them die, how much their families would cry. I see it, Kaeya. I see the ways you care for people. You can’t tell me it’s all an act.”
“What if I did?”
“I wouldn’t believe you. I don’t believe someone who hates his people would spend time listening to Glory or look into medicines for Anna. You do it even when you think nobodies looking and I...” you took a deep breath, “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“My anger for you was directed at myself. I do think you need to change the way you plan things, have more care for people's lives.” You smiled at him and wiped the tears from his eyes, “I’m also really sorry for hitting you.”
“It’s fine, I deserved it.” He chuckled lowly.
“No, you don’t. You did like... a month ago. But not tonight.”
“So, what now?” He looked at you with small tears still in his eyes.
“Well, I think first we get out of here. Next, we should spend some time and work on ourselves. And finally...”
“Finally?”
You blushed, “Let me buy you dinner.”
The two of you left the Domain, and for a reason, no person in Mondstadt could explain, you and Kaeya became inseparable. His plans suddenly became more conscious of his men. 
And together, you began to heal.
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dramatic-squirrel · 3 years
Text
Damianette December Day 4- Flowers
Mishaps and surprise circumstances might keep the two of them apart for a while, but they’ll always find each other in the end. That’s it, the entire synopsis for the story. I saved you the time of actually reading it right there.
@daminette-december2019-2020
Marinette could barely contain her excitement. Finally she was joining to see Damian again. Sometimes, their relationship was too difficult. He had his duties as Robin in Gotham and she had her duties in Paris as Ladybug. But, it was moments like these that made it worth it. She wasn’t sure that absence made the heart grow fonder but she was sure that any chance to spend time with her boyfriend was worth the wait.
Except there was still something stopping them from meeting. The news reached her while she was making her way to the exit. A t.v. screen with a news channel was playing.
“Breaking new. Poison Ivy and Harley are robbing the Gotham United Bank. They appear to have let the women and children go but are keeping all other individuals as hostages.” It wasn’t too long after when Damian called her.
“I’m so sorry Angel, I need to help with the situation. We’re already short on back up since Cass is in China, Gordon is with Grayson on their vacation and Duke is handling another case with Fox. Where all too busy dealing with this sudden new problem that I don’t think anyone can pick you up from the airport.” She understood, it was a matter of circumstances. So, she wasn’t disappointed, just a bit sad she wouldn’t see him yet. Then a thought occurred to her.
“Do you need any help? I heard Ladybug’s in town.” It would be like killing two birds with one stone, until he brought up a very good point that she had forgotten.
“I would love to have you help us, but we both agreed that Ladybug shouldn’t appear anywhere but in Paris for the time being. Since, if your not in Paris, Hawkmoth might attack while Chat Noir is by himself. I know you said it’s not a problem because you have the horse miraculous but, if you can’t get away while we’re fighting Poison Ivy and Harley then Chat will be all on his own.”
“Yeah…” she couldn’t hold in her sigh of exasperation. “You’re right, I just wish you weren’t.”
“I’ll meet you later at your hotel for dinner. We should be done by then. Alright Angel.”
“Alright, I’ll just grab a taxi. Remember to stay safe Dami.”
“You too Angel.” They hung up and she left to airport into the unusually bright Gotham day. Thankfully she managed to track down a cab in under ten minutes, her ladybug luck always helping her in convenient ways.
While the taxi took her to her hotel, she decided to look up the news on her phone. She knew he’d be alright, he was amazing at what he did still, she worried. 30 minutes later the taxi pulled up by a curb and stopped. “We’re here miss.”
And it was partly her fault, she should have looked more closely to where she was before she paid and got out of the cab but, Marinette had no idea where she had been dropped off. All she knew was that it wasn’t her hotel. Before she could turn around to get back into the taxi, the driver already drove off breaking the speed limit several times over.
It seemed like it was going to be one of those days. One mishap after another. She took out her phone so she could check to see where she was and how to get to her hotel. Marinette managed to get the general direction she needed to walk in before the next mishap happened and her battery died. A long plane ride and obsessively checking your phone was bound to make the battery run out. 
Thankfully she knew where to go at least, and she should have plenty of time before she actually met Damian. “Well, Tikki, it looks like we’re going on an unplanned adventure.”
“That’s right Marinette!” the kwami’s positive attitude was always infectious. “There’s always a bright side to things. Maybe you’ll find treasure on your way.” It was hopeful, practically naïve thinking, but sometimes you just needed that kind of thinking in life. 
Her energy restored, she set off. For the next twenty minutes things went fairly well. She had travelled light since she was only staying in Gotham for about a week and a half, so there was no heavy suitcase to haul around. The driver had at least dropped her off on the safer side of town, so she didn’t encounter any muggers. And the weather held so there wasn’t any sudden rain storms.
As she passed by a food stand she decided to grab a bit to eat for her an Tikki. Just a simple bagel and nothing up to par to what her papa could make but delicious none the less. It wasn’t until she made it all the way to a desert park that she realized she was lost again. She couldn’t remember the route that she had seen on her phone but she knows she would have remembered a park showing up because it would have been a nice place to take a rest stop for her and Tikki.
In the end, the conclusion was that she was lost, in Gotham, without a phone. If she had the precise coordinates to teleport to she would use Kaalki but only Max would remember obscure details like the geographical coordinates of his hotel.
“I guess my luck is starting to run out finally Tikki.”
“It’s not that bad Marinette. Let’s take a rest first and then ask someone for directions. I’m sure they’ll be willing to help.”
“Maybe, but let’s be a bit picky about who we chose so we have to end up fighting some random kidnapper.” Marinette made her way to a park bench and placed her carry on next to her. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone here Tikki, why don’t you come out of the purse for a but.”
It wasn’t hard to see why the park was empty. Most of the foliage was dead still, winter was still on it’s way out especially in a town like Gotham where it was naturally cooler than other cities. As Tikki enjoyed exploring whatever she could find in the desolate park, Marinette let her mind wander from thought to thought. Physically she was fine but mentally she was exhausted. 
So she thought about a lot of things. The newest pastry her parents had made for the bakery, what Alya was probably doing right now, how she was going to solve the tricky part of the next design for Jagged’s outfit that he commissioned. 
She became too invested in her thought that she didn’t notice the person coming up from behind her until it was already to late. 
“Marinette?”
“Gah!” she fell forwards and subsequently off the bench. Her surprise last only a moment as she soon recognized the voice. “Damian? What’re you doing here? I thought you’d still be dealing with Poison Ivy and Harley?”
He had a sheepish expression on his face. “Turns out they were robbing the bank because the owner was counterfeit money. These situations usually end pretty quickly since they hand themselves in or escape as soon as my father finds the evidence they left out for him. Unfortunately we don’t always know when they’ll do their own brand of vigilant work and when they’re just committing a crime. How did you end up all the way here though? You’re hotel is about 40 minutes from here.”
It was her turn to appear embarrassed. “I must have gone the wrong way at some point while walking to my hotel. You see, my phone died and the taxi dropped me off at the wrong spot and so, I was resting for a few minutes before setting off again. It’s crazy that you managed to find me here of all places those.”
“Crazy or luck? If you aren’t too tired, would you care to join me for a walk through the park?” She was about to suggest they go somewhere with a better view if they were going to go walking when she noticed that they park had changed around her at some point.
Before where it was mostly barren, it had magically grown around her. She could see tulips and daffodils, snowdrops and lily of the valleys, primroses and peonies all throughout the park. “What the- how did the park end up like this all of a sudden?”
“I may have managed to convince Harley to convince Ivy to help me out. It was actually lucky that we managed to find you on the way to your hotel. Apparently this park is between where the robbery took place and where yout hotel is, so when I set off to find you with Harley and Ivy helping me under a “favor for Robin” we didn’t expect to see you so soon. This is just an apology for having to stand you up at the airport.”
She almost started crying. “You don’t need to apologize for that I understood the situation.” 
“Then think of it as a thank you for coming all the way here to see me?”
She pulled him forward and before he knew it she kissed him. It was quick and almost too short but sweet nonetheless. “Deal, as long as next time you come to Paris I get to give you something as amazing as this.”
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greytoiletpaper · 4 years
Text
Out on Allen Street, it’s 7 in the Morning
Set in the same-ish Street Siblings universe as First Contact by @cryptids-and-muses and @a-sketchy-character @streetsiblings (they’re awesome), I present my own built-on concept. It’s a bit angstier but sue me I’m an angst ball
AO3 | Deluge
Chapter 1: Drizzle
Jason Todd loved the rain. He remembered it pattering on the roof as he dozed off into the night, curled up with Sparky. Times spent splashing in puddles. Drawing a rare smile from Catherine as bright as the morning sun. Days without Willis, his head stuck in a worn copy of Huckleberry Finn and the ambience set only by the rain as it tracked ran down the window he leant on.
It was raining when Jason woke to his mother’s lax corpse, ears drowning out every sound except the rain’s as it plinked in time with the droplets that dripped down her arm.
--
In front of her, Faizul’s corpse is still. So still that Cassandra Cain can almost block out how the man’s body only radiated pain and fear and agony so strong-and-she-did-that-with-her-hands-her-hands-so-red-and-.
But she can’t, her head is still drowning in the memory, and all she can think about is the fear emptiness that settles in her body. Her gift to understand movement as if it were a language, she learns, is nothing more than a curse when Death comes by her hand. She wrings her red fist, as tainted as her soul because of what she had done. She looks away.
Father David has his arms outstretched, a smile so sharp and so bright that if he were any other man, she would have thought he was proud. He is, but underneath, Cassandra can see nothing but sick and profound glee at what she can do. The decision is easy.
As Cassandra springs out the window, its hinges blew wide open, her father David keeled over, the sky crackles and runs with the long red rivulets off her arms.
--
Now, five months later, Jason ducks his head under the fire escape in an empty alley, the rain in a duet with the nightlife of Gotham. He allows himself some respite as it steadily washes the grime off his surroundings, a pleasant ratatatata above the ambient din that is the dark of Gotham. He is so tired, but he’ll have to move soon if he wants to stay out of sight of kidnappers and killers and whatever else haunts the shadows of Gotham.
A howl slices through the Gotham night as some mug gets his face slammed into a wall. Jason knows this because he can see it right now as the same mook gets decked by a – a girl. Anyone on the streets knows that girls can hold their own but seeing some thirty-something-year-old man get his ass handed to him by a pixie of a girl – he thinks she’s his age, somehow – is something else. Seriously, the guy looks terrified out of his mind as he runs with his tail between his legs after a particularly nasty hit to his crotch.
As if sensing his gaze, the girl snaps her head to him, locking him in place.
“Uh… Hi?” Jason raises his hand in an awkward wave which the girl mimics, albeit a bit stilted, her head on a tilt. The silence between the two of them stretches until the girl seems to see something in him and nods. Out of ideas, Jason digs around his bag and produces a fresh enough apple.
“I’m Jason.” He points to himself.
A beat, and then the girl repeats the gesture.
“Cuh, cuh, cuh,” She struggles with the words, her forehead pinched. “Cuh, ah, ssss.”
“Cass?” The girl nods again, this time rigorously. Unsure of himself, Jason raises the apple to her. “Well, nice to meet you, Cass. You hungry?”
Cass grins, her eyes twinkling as she bites into the apple. Around them, the rain lessens. Just a little.
--
She watches two of her most precious children draw closer, children who will laugh and cry and burn for her love. Gotham watches them come, raises her arms, and weeps with her joy.
“Jason and Cassandra against the world,” Is what Gotham would have said if she had a voice. For years, the city is content to watch her children. She observes Jason and Cassandra as they starve, as they fight, as they grow. On one night, the weather nothing but pluvial, she witnesses them come across the strange car in the alleyway owned by her first child. On that night, she watches as the Dark Knight comes across her most perfect pair of children.
--
“Cassandra,” She looks up at the man they had been living under for the past two months, Bruce. She makes no answer, only staring blankly at him–they were betting on seeing how long it took for the man to get uncomfortable when she does that–who stares back. He continues as if they had not been staring for a full minute, which is not to Cass’ benefit. “Do you know where Jason is?”
Cass, willing to keep trying, keeps her gaze unrepentant. Under her scrutiny, the Dark Knight’s demeanour finally cracks a little. Internally, Cass is ecstatic, but she still really wants to milk it as she keeps up the act.
“Someone call for me?” Jay comes down the stairs. Finally, Cass can break her façade.
“Good morning, slob.” The slob, honest to god, freezes.
“No,” He grinds out of his teeth.
“Yes,” Cass gives him a crooked smile. “slob.”
“Am I missing something here?” Bruce is frowning. Oh right, he was ignorant to their scheme.
“Slob,” Cass repeats with feeling and delights at Jay’s fuming. “S-L-O-B. It means Stupid-Loser-Of-Bets,” She looks Jay dead in the eye again and calls him by the name.
Bruce frowned even further (his body projects such honest confusion that Cass almost laughs). “I was not aware you two had made a bet.”
“A bet I lost because of you, old man!” Jay pipes up, suddenly fuming at Bruce. “You’re Batman, and you can’t even keep from cracking when some girl stares at you for longer than a minute?”
Cass does not hold in her laughter anymore, something she broadcasts to all gathered. Bruce sighs, but at least he waits for her to calm down before he gets to his point.
“Regardless… I need you two to come with me to my office,” As the man leaves, the two share a glance.
“You gonna go after him?”
“You first, slob,” Jay grumbles the entire way to the office, where Bruce waves them in.
For a few seconds, the man awkwardly shifts before he pulls a sheaf of papers from behind his desk.
“I… I quite enjoy having the two of you here. With me,” Bruce admits, looking both of them in the eyes. He takes a deep breath. “I do not want to force this on either of you, but I would love to have you here with me for longer.”
“Permanently, even.”
Bruce lays out the papers on the desk, ‘Adoption Applications’ printed at the top. The letters draw a sharp breath from Jay, and Cass is confident enough with reading to understand what it means.
“Yes,” They both say immediately, and Bruce’s face goes softer than either have ever seen it.
When he asks for their surnames, Cass thinks about saying Cain. Instead, she says Todd.
Shyly, her russet orbs meet his azure ones expecting anger, but everything about Jason only projects love and acceptance. Her grin, something she had not got right yet, is almost identical to the one her brother wears.
“Always wanted a sister. Can’t do much better than you, eh, Cass?”
“Yes Jay,” she pauses. “slob.”
Outside, the sky is open in a light drizzle.
--
If there is anyone in the Waynes that Jason thinks is his favourite, it would be Alfred. An opinion he thinks Cass would be hard-pressed to disagree with. Of course, Cass is still in awe about the fact that Bruce Wayne is Batman (and isn’t that just fucking crazy), so it’s understandable. Conversely, Jason still remembers his first memory of the butler, a kind smile and welcoming arms that promised care for both of them.
“Master Jason,” The boy had looked up to see a crinkle in Alfred’s eyes that he had only ever seen from Catherine. The butler continued, somehow even softer than his usual. “Would you like me to fix that for you?”
Alfred gestured to Jason’s battered copy of Huckleberry Finn that he had cradled self-consciously to his chest. He refused, unsure why the butler seemed to be delighted to see Jason in the way only Cass and his Mom did. But there is something so trustworthy about the man that part of Jason is sure Alfred would do things like that no matter what he asked. So, automatic favourite.
--
Their older brother, Dick (“Aptly nicknamed,” Jay mutters under his breath.), yells whenever he comes to the manor. Most of his visits tend to cycle between him screaming at Bruce or yelling about them. He does make an effort to be a little quieter when he’s talking about the latter. Although, he still looks at Jay with an indecipherable mixture of emotions in his eyes. A pool caught between anger and something unknown to them. It’s not something that upsets Cass, but it puts both of them off, nonetheless.
On the other hand, Barbara is a little more forward in her dislike of the new kids. More often than not, her ire seems aimed at Cass specifically. Privately, Cass thinks Barbara was still angry about Bruce taking her role as Batgirl and giving it to Cass. But, she can see how every time the older girl gets less hostile, another part of her body was long past the role anyway. So, she doesn’t hold it against Oracle.
--
“C’mon Cass, repeat after me,” Jason waves the pages in Cass’ face, which elicits a giggle from his sister. Her giggling unbalances the both of them, so they have to waste another couple of minutes to make themselves comfortable again.
“What’s the use you learning to do right when it’s troublesome to do right and ain’t no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same?”
Cass repeats the words, but she struggles at ‘troublesome’, so Jason repeats it for her. Silence, and then.
“What mean?” He thinks she isn’t asking about the word.
“Well, Mom used to say that it was just that. It might be harder to do the right thing, but it’d be better since you at least did it properly,” Satisfied, his sister merely nods and tries the words again. This time, she only takes three tries until she gets ‘troublesome’ right.
“I think she would have liked you,” He murmurs between phrases and instantly regrets it when Cass’ head turns to him so sharply she jostles him. He is about to brush it off when she nods her head shyly, snuggling closer to Jason.
He thinks, as they keep reading, that things are going to turn out alright. He has Robin now, and Robin gives him magic. Not only that but he’s also got Cass as Batgirl. Sure, she has that weird stitch mask covering her face, but it’s so fitting that he cannot imagine Cass with any other kind of costume. He knows her, and she knows him. For years she has been the sister he never knew he needed.
Together, Jason muses, they’re going to shake the whole damn world.
--
Whether they're from the Justice League or otherwise, everyone is always ready with a snide comment directed towards them. Or, more specifically, Jason. They use words and insults that don’t make sense to her, but she can see them affect her brother. When she asks, all he does is brush her off with lies and platitudes that they both know are fake. It isn’t until Troia huffs and says something that has waves of hurt rolling off Jason’s body that Cass decides she’s had enough.
“Honestly, I can’t believe you’d think you’d ever be like – ow!” Troia, poise flooded with nothing but condescension (she’s too angry to be elated at remembering a word Jason taught her) that Cass quickly corrects with a sharp jab. Like a deer in headlights, she turns and somehow has the gall to look indignant (another word). “Who did – Batgirl?”
“What, are you doing?” Troia fucking blinks. “Why are you treating my brother like this?”
She doesn’t even look guilty.
“Oh, don’t worry about all that. I don’t think it’s anything you’d understand anyway,”
She bends down towards her, apparently not noticing how still she is. Anyone who knows anything about Cassandra Todd knows her stillness means Death. Evidently, Troia is an exception. She's the only one in the room that's relaxed.
“Some people are simply born for this role. No street rat can ever hope to achieve that.”
Cassandra moves before anyone even blinks, her arms a flurry of jabs and punches and vicious kicks as she catches Troia off guard. Even when she finally regains her footing, the Amazon doesn't stand a sliver of a chance as Cassandra lays into her.
A block from Troia awards a savage stomp on her shin. A punch ducked under and followed through into a sequence of blows to the Amazon’s chest. When Troia grips her lasso and tries to restrain Cassandra, the girl only slinks her way past and wrestles it from her hands. Quickly and efficiently, she wraps it around the Amazon’s waist and pulls. For someone so small, Cassandra manages to lift Troia with the lasso with enough strength that when she releases it, the Amazon goes flying into a pillar in the Watchtower with a sharp crack.
Cass picks up her brother and shields him from the Leaguers, indifferent to their shocked and judgemental eyes.
The message is clear.
Even though they’re lost in a veritable sea of people, it still ends up being just the two of them, and Cass is more than okay with that.
Next chapter
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dazenightmare · 3 years
Text
Wheel spin. Spin wheel.
T.W.: Death, minor character deaths, guns, knives, kidnapping, killing, stabbing, shooting, asylums/mental hospitals, insanity, basically some codependency, let me know if I need to add more!
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Devil town is colder in the summer time, I’LL LOSE MY MIND AT LEAST ANOTHER THOUSAND TIMES, HOLD MY HAND TIGHT, WE’LL MAKE IT ANOTHER NIGHT!!
*clears throat* Anyways. This one’s clingy duo centric!! :D
So Tommy and Tubbo are childhood friends and best friends. One day while they’re walking they get kidnapped. They wake up tied to opposite sides of a room, and immediately the kidnapper is like “fucking FINALLY. Time to emotionally scar one of you!!” And proceeds to try and kill Tubbo.
The keyword, try, as Tommy goes feral and breaks the chair he’s tied to and eventually kills the kidnapper with their own knife. The two keep the knife and swear the night to secrecy between each other.
After that they get an unhealthy type of clingy to each other, and refuse to let one out of sight of the other, save for times in the bathroom where one merely waits outside the door. It’s gotten to the point where they skip classes they don’t share, and switch which house they sleep at every night between the two families. Anytime they are separated they freak out massively and try to get to/find each other.
This continues for about a month before some bullies at school force them to be more than five feet away from each other and they lose it, both thrashing before Tommy pulls out the knife he stole and starts stabbing them, killing two and severely injuring the other three.
Some kids who were watching called the police, and when they arrived the two gave themselves up easily. Except for the fact that Tubbo hadn’t done anything, so they again get separated as some cops try to hold Tubbo back and more try and get a handcuffed Tommy into the car.
This of course, makes Tubbo pissed as he turns violent, punching some cops before stealing a gun off one and shooting the cops trying to keep them apart. He manages to kill three before he throws the gun to the cop he stole it off of (dead) and turns himself in. The police get it through their thick skulls to not separate the two unless they want violence, sticking the two in the same car where they lean on each other and whisper.
The two get sent to an asylum/mental hospital, where people try and improve their mental states since they got a lot worse after the bully/police incident, now getting incredibly antsy if they aren’t holding hands, and most of the time whispering to each other before deciding to do things or answer things.
While they’re there, they meet Philza, Wilbur and Techno (only one of which is also a killer). The five eventually escape the hospital together, many being killed in the process, and now live on the run while trying to sort through all their problems.
Extra things:
Tommy and Tubbo refusing to tell authorities what happened to them after getting arrested. The authorities however do suspect it wasn’t the first time they killed for each other and are looking into it.
Tommy being the main talker at the hospital and after since they now think through everything with each other before talking to people as one entity, Tubbo only taking over to explain things in more detail
They struggle with deciding whether or not to tell their backstory to SBI after a month of them escaping, because they had sworn it to secrecy and they’ve never broken a swear before, but surely they can know, right? (You can choose whether they do or don’t)
On the run Tommy fights with knives while Tubbo fights with guns
During their escape, Tommy manages to find and take his confiscated knife and takes it with them
SBI always freaking out a little bit whenever Tubbo talks instead of Tommy, not used to hearing his voice (they wouldn’t be able to recognize it if they weren’t aware Tubbo was talking)
Techno went to the hospital because of the voices in his head and his kill counter, Wilbur because of extreme depression, anxiety, and paranoia, and Philza snuck in and pulled some strings to become a patient in order to break out his best friend and son (though it is speculated that he is insane)
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