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ziracona · 1 year

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[[On a Superhero short fic kick. I was incorrectly spoiled on events for the PS4 Spider-Man, but the ideas never left my head, so have some non-canon-compliant Harry. This is about a year after the game. Same setup, only instead of Venom experimentation, Norman used a form of the Goblin serum to try and cure Harry. Didn’t go great. Has been trying to improve on and fix ever since. While Norman was out of the country to clear up Devil’s Breath Geneva convention violation allegations, Oscorp kept getting attacked and desperate, and for multiple very bad motivations and without Norman’s knowledge, permission, or approval, woke up and set Harry loose to destroy some evidence and buy time, since doped up on serum he’s essentially a heat seeking missile. Pete as Spider-Man stopped him, but not before Oscorp got what they wanted out of the stunt. Peter is now dealing with the fallout and trying to process what happened to his friend.]]

“Peter?”

“Uh—yeah, sorry. Hang on a second.”

Doing his best to mentally run through the half of the security system he’d memorized at light speed, Peter Parker slid back out of the vent he’d been in and launched himself up two stories in the elevator shaft, landing precariously in a far corner away from the pressure sensors on the lab side.

“Okay. Good now. Hi, MJ.”

“You okay? I mean, that’s what I called to ask about,” came her somewhere-between-worried-and-suspicious voice, “but I mean, right now? You’re not taking a call in the middle of a fight again, right?”

“No, no,” said Peter hurriedly, trying to wedge himself into a more comfortable position as an elevator passed.

“Is that construction?”

“No, it’s an elevator,” he replied, “I’m fine, really. Just trying to stay out of sight and overhearing-range while on the phone.”

“Okay,” said Mary Jane, not entirely convinced but convinced enough to drop it, “Look uh. I guess that doesn’t matter. Not like I could stop you anyway. I just wanted to know how you’re doing?”

…Ah. Right…

“With…Harry…”

Yeah. He swallowed. Okay come on. Now is the time to say something, Peter. This has been like 10 seconds of silence so far and it can get worse.

“Uh.”

“Look. I-I don’t mean to pry, and if you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s fine, of course. I just… I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it, and I know I’m upset, and I just thought. With you…”

Funny. He almost never heard MJ rattled. It was actually reassuring to him. Good to know somebody else felt it too. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he shifted again in the little corner, taking some weight off his back by wedging his knees against a post.

“I uh. I’m not doing great,” he answered truthfully. She was quiet on the other end. “I just…I can’t understand what happened.”

Peter wished he was outside. He wished he could pace and swing around while talking, work some of the energy out, but that would mean re-dodging about eight layers of Oscorp security, and he’d really come too far to go back now, so this was it. Wedged into a tiny corner of an elevator shaft about two feet from a pressure sensor that would put the whole building on lockdown if his foot slipped.

Good thing my feet are sticky, he thought, trying to rouse his spirit, and then with a grimace, Great. Even my quips are suffering…

“I’ve gone through everything I know about eighteen times in my head,” he continued, thinking it over a nineteenth as he did, “And it just…it wasn’t him, MJ. I-I mean, it was—I saw his face. But before? When we were fighting? It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Harry. I don’t…”

For a moment, there was quiet.

“…I’m so sorry. First Otto, now Harry. I can’t even imagine. This has been a terrible couple of years for you.”

“I—“ He hesitated, remembering. Running images of Otto through his head, images of the fight just yesterday, with Harry. “It…that’s not what. I mean…” he tried slowly, worried somehow about her reaction to this. “I mean it really… Wasn’t him. Not like Martin Li, not like Otto. Not like a change. It was like he was…possessed. He didn’t say anything the whole time. And his eyes…”

How to even explain it though?

He thought… if. If it had been like Otto, he would have known. A part of him would have unconsciously recognized Harry’s movements, his voice, something. But no part of him at all had been anything but shocked when the person he was pummeling had finally stopped hitting back and gone still in the wreckage of an automobile plant, and he’d torn the mask off to see…

Honestly, his first thought had been that it was Chameleon somehow. His second Mysterio, and he was hallucinating. He’d wondered if he was crazy before his brain had pitched him the suggestion that it might actually be Harry Osborn in the battered body armor beneath him.

And God, he’d been so terrified he’d killed him for a second he hadn’t been able to feel his own heartbeat. Peter had never once actually tried to kill anyone he fought, and he’d still been terrified this would be the one time he’d messed up and given a hit too hard.

He hadn’t. And Harry was okay. No. Not…okay. Alive. But-

“His eyes?” echoed MJ in confusion.

“Yeah,” said Peter, trying to come back down to reality, “they were…I only saw them for a minute, right at the end, and again, when Oscorp was transporting him away for treatment. But they were glowing. Not brown anymore either. Yellow. He didn’t…look like him.”

His voice had gotten so small.

He hadn’t meant it too.

MJ was quiet.

“…I’m sorry,” she said finally, and he could hear she meant it, “Do you know anything yet? What happened? Where he’s been?”

“Not much,” said Peter, trying to wall feelings back up so he could operate again, “Oscorp said a lab accident of some kind when he was getting treatment, and they’re taking him in to try and fix it.”

Which, thank God not the Raft. He didn’t think he would have been able to bear that. But…

“I…I don’t buy that though. He shows up, sure a kind of motivationless seeming attack, but it ruined the buy-out, and the Oscorp investigation at the same time. Even with their stock taking a hit too, their competition got the worse end of this, and they’re at least stalled from what Yuri expected to be a devastating run-in with internal affairs. Now, they have a perfect excuse for any documents that go ‘missing’. Probably nothing will happen with legal action after that at least until Norman’s back in the country.”

“You think he’d use his own son like this?” asked MJ, aghast.

“No! I would have thought it was about the only thing he wouldn’t do! But after last year…?”

Yeah. After last year, everything about Norman Osborn was more questions than answers.

No. Not about Norman. About…everything.

And that was what he was really afraid of. He wanted to say he knew it hadn’t really been Harry—and he did know it. He believed it. But. Last year had shown him what he knew…what he believed in, it wasn’t always true.

And there could be consequences…

“Right…” said MJ, sounding like she was following the same mental path internally.

“Anyway,” said Peter, hoping to divert her attention back to the present, “I’m going to see if I can’t dig up more. Something like this doesn’t just happen, and I owe it to Harry. To know.”

And to believe it couldn’t have been him. He owed Harry that too. He had to try.

“…Okay,” decided MJ, sounding determined herself, “I’ll do everything I can to dig things up on my end too. Let me know how it goes.”

“Sure thing,” promised Peter, relieved.

“And Peter-“ she called as he went to disconnect, “I’m really sorry.”

“…Yeah.” Said Peter. “Me too.”

There was a click as the line disconnected, and Peter turned his gaze back the way he’d just come. Quick two-story drop, swing into the vent, third from back on the right. Back in business.

It wasn’t like it was the hardest infiltration he’d done in the last year, but uh. Oscorp security was no joke. They’d really beefed it up since everything with Martin Li. Guess that uh. Figures.

Still, he was through the worst of it! Sort of…

Even with an advanced study of the security before going in, a degree in science, and an ability to sense danger and stick to walls, it took Peter another hour somehow to find what he was looking for. Oscorp’s labs spanned many, many floors, with varrying levels of security, and the blueprints did NOT match the interiors! No they did not. Which was extremely frustrating, and against city codes but hey! Not the worst work development for him in recent memory. Backtracking in narrow pipes wasn’t exactly fun or quick, but at least no one was shooting at him.

The place was such a maze in comparison to the blueprints he’s seen that Peter had almost given up on his last trek through yet another story of lab equipment being the right security route to follow and been about to turn around and try another floor, when he’d seen a very impressive amount of oxygen containers being carted down a hall, and followed a sudden hunch. And the cart.

It had payed off. The oxygen had been weaved through halls at what to Peter felt like random, and been left by a huge set of reinforced titanium doors, but he’d had a feeling, and Peter had taken another fifteen minutes to spoof the security system for the four seconds he needed to make it through the motion sensors in the exhaust vent leading in, and it had all been worth it, because he’d found him.

The room was long, with low ceilings and more consoles and lab stations than it seemed like there could possibly be something to do with. About eighteen little centrifuges, incubators, testing sites, printouts, backup power blocks, several types of animals in cages in a corner, data screens, computer banks, a massive microscope, and a lot of things even he couldn’t name at a glance. Near the far end of the room was a large empty tank of green-yellow liquid.

There were people in lab coats all over, some at stations, and a big clump of about eight around a console at the far end of the room.

“-he’s going to literally kill us,” one of the scientists nearest him was saying to another in undertones.

“No, by the time he gets here, we’ll have someone to hang out as responsible for the little incident with his son, and we’ll have gotten some actionable results here he won’t have to know how we got, and that’s going to be the only thing he cares about,” answered the other in a ‘and stop talking about this forever now please’ tone of voice.

“Besides. He’s tied up internationally in court. Even for this, he won’t be home for a month, maybe two, three,” said another.

“You haven’t seen him really determined,” said the first again, “There is nothing the man won’t do.”

“I have, and that’s how I know there are things even he can’t do,” answered the third again, “Now can we please focus on getting those actionable results? Because if we don’t, she definitely has a point.”

Okay. Kind of a huge relief to hear for once it sounds like Norman wasn’t involved in something. At least there’s a line. But, I’m definitely in the right place now, so…where’s Harry? It was the right spot for sure. There was Harry’s name, medical history, and bio readout splashed up on a handful of the screens people were working at right below him. It had to be here, right? Or close anyway. Had to.

Careful, Peter slid along the vent system installed for sucking chemicals in or out of the room in an emergency that ran straight down the center of the lab, for once too intent on searching to be thinking about what would happen if there was a spill while he was in the vent, like he usually would have.

Come on, come on!

He hesitated about halfway down the long rectangular room, noticing a screen near him. It wasn’t at a great angle for his neck, but he could make out the words.

Harry.

‘Experimental serum,’ ‘enhanced physicality,’ ‘heightened aggression,’ ‘triggered adrenal response,’ ‘fractured mental processing.’ He skimmed fast, hitting highlights.

Harry…. God. How? How did this happen! Nothing here about that at all.

It was infuriating.

At least I was right, he thought, not sure if it was okay to be reassured by this or not, since the results looked…pretty grim, according to that, you would have been completely out of your head… when … you…

He saw him.

The eight scientists gathered around a console weren’t just gathered around a console at the far end of the room. They were encircling a tube about seven feet long and three and a half feet wide, filled with the same fluid as the big empty tank, and just big enough to hold a human being in it. Which it did.

It was laid sideways like a battery, plugged into the console, and inside was Harry, laid on his stomach in an oxygen mask and chains.

It was everything he had not to break through the roof the second he saw it.

He couldn’t understand why.

You’ve seen lock-ups before, Pete. You know how hard some of them can be to contain. He destroyed four buildings yesterday. You knew he’d be locked up somewhere.

The calming himself down with logical reasoning thing was not working.

He-he couldn’t even tell if Harry was awake. His eyes were half open and glazed over, floating there—IS HE DEAD??

Panic flooded him.

One of the doctors moved a control on the console and the chains around Harry’s wrists and ankles retracted and pulled taut, immobilizing him, and it was suddenly very clear he was alive and awake, because his eyes snapped open, glowing a bright yellow that’s as unnerving to see, and he started thrashing madly against the chains and trying to slam a knee or elbow into the side of the tank, furious, unintelligible sounds coming from beneath the mask. Almost instantly in response, something shocked him. Peter couldn’t tell where it had originated from, but he’d seen enough people tazed to know what was happening as his friend suddenly jerked and started to convulse, then went limp and still hanging in the liquid like before, eyes shut.

Crap crap crap; Harry. I-

Th-there was nothing to do, but…wait. Watch. He didn’t want to. He wanted to jump down there and start breaking things, but. …He couldn’t. For all he knew, they really…were…helping him. Just because he didn’t like it, didn’t mean…

…

It was hard.

Peter was there for hours. Watching, listening. trying to understand. It was unbelievably miserable.

It didn’t matter this wasn’t the first time someone he’d liked and respected was in cuffs; it didn’t matter this wasn’t the first time he’d seen someone he knew become someone he didn’t. It was different. It was worse. And it was…wrong.

They were experimenting on him. And sure, okay, they had to. They had to figure out what was wrong, to fix it. But not like this!

Nobody talked to him. No breaks, no rest. Not even for meals. Just an IV in an arm and oxygen in a mask keeping Harry alive, trapped submerged in that tiny tube he wouldn’t have even had space to get to his knees in. Sometimes, Harry was out of it, or straight up unconscious. Sometimes, he was awake and struggling, only to get shocked into submission again. Sometimes, he seemed to get shocked down before he’d tried to do anything at all, just to make sure he wouldn’t throw off whatever test they were running. After a while, he quit fighting except to try and pull away from them, while they remote operated robot arms and drew blood and other DNA samples, tried things, tested serums, response times, stimuli. It was exhausting even to watch, and he hated it. Norman never would have allowed this! Whatever his faults, one of them was not using Harry as a lab rat. But. He wasn’t here. The conversation Peter had overheard played again and again in his head as he tried to think. They were right. Norman couldn’t be back for a while. Even if he knew, even if Peter somehow got footage and sent it to him, and it actually made it there, and he believed any of it, all it would probably do is put him through hell.

Which mean he didn’t know what to do.

By the end of his day of listening in, skimming screens for info, and snagging data off drives, Peter was sure of a few things though. One, whatever had happened to Harry, it had happened at Oscorp, and they’d known about it long before yesterday. Two, whatever he’d taken seemed to have had some impact on his neurological condition—at a guess, Peter had to assume that’s why he’d taken it in the first place. They weren’t sure of the full affects though. All they knew for certain was that any time he was awake, the drug kicked in and he was unpredictable: out of it, and dangerous, and unstable, and a lot stronger than a normal human. Three, whatever the drug was, it had not finished altering his DNA yet, and the submersion in the tank was to stay off further changes. And four, whatever they were doing to try to ‘help’ him now, they’d made little progress in the last year with Norman there, and whether or not they actually could do any of what they’d said now without him, their methods without oversight were anything but humane.

And he wasn’t going to stand for that.

He knew that much for sure. Risky or not, Harry needed help. Actual help. Not this. He wasn’t going to sit by, and wait for it to be too late again. He wasn’t going to try to let a problem fix itself and hope. Not with his best friend.

Which meant the only question then was what exactly to do.

He couldn’t just…break him out and take him to a hospital. Oscorp would have him back within the hour. He couldn’t rescue him give him to…anyone, really. There was…no one left anymore he knew to go to for help who’d know how. He couldn’t just break him out and let him go, either, though, because God knew how conscious of himself Harry would be, or what kind of damage he might cause out of his head—let alone what law enforcement might do to him after yesterday if they caught him like this.

Which…meant it was leave him, locked in a tank he could barely move around in to be experimented on by the people who’d sent him out as a weapon 24 hours ago, which wasn’t an option, or…

Oh boy.

It was dark.

Cold.

He couldn’t fall asleep. Harry had tried. But he was so tired his brain wouldn’t. It was running four seconds of memory in an endless, feverish loop and he couldn’t think, couldn’t not think enough to sleep, couldn’t anything.

At least they’re gone, the most conscious part of him thought, wanting to curl up and whimper, but too tired to move.

Who were they? Why? Why why why why why WHY WHY? I don’t—I don’t—I can’t! I-

Movement.

Adrenaline flipped on and Harry opened his eyes wide, irises yellowing and flickering to a glow in the pitch black room as he stared out at the empty lab.

Empty?

No, he thought, fear kicking in like he’d been stabbed with a syringe of it, Something’s there.

The restraints were slack now, with no one there, and he could move just a little, so he pushed himself up as much as he could in the tube and looked.

Nothing. No—

There!

Movement again. Where had it gone?

What’s out there? His anxiety deepened, and he placed his palms against the glass, leaning, trying to see.

It was so quiet.

Why would something be here? What do they want? What do they-

He turned his head left again and in deep shadows about fifteen feet back was Spider-Man like he’d aparated.

Harry jerked back, scream muffled through the mask, instantly hitting the back wall of the tiny glass cage keeping him trapped on his side.

The towering figure raised its hands and called something, but Harry didn’t hear it through the pounding in his ears.

No no no no no no!

Memory after memory from yesterday slammed into his skull and he doubled over and covered his right eye with a palm, digging his fingers into his forehead trying to push back against the pain. He’s going to kill me!

He could see it. He could feel the impact of a foot against his chest, and fists on the side of his face. Remembered the pounding pain again and again, this thing on top of him, until he’d hit his head so many times he’d lost consciousness.

Why?! Help! I—

Movement again. It was coming closer. Panicked, Harry flung his arms and legs against the glass of the tank, trying to break it and get out. Immediately, intense pain shot along his back as the cage tazed him, but he kept trying, too scared to stop—god it was almost on top of him-!

I can’t get out I can’t get out!

Spider-Man was there then, and Harry flung his arms over his head and curled up, recoiling as much as he could and shuddering as electricity ran along his body and fear pumped in his veins.

No no no not again not again.

“It’s okay! Please—I promise I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m trying to help.”

The cage was not snapped in half, and he was not dragged out of it and crushed like he had anticipated. It took a few seconds, but he registered this past the pain in every muscle from the shocks, and thudding of his heart in his ears, the fear in his throat. It took him another few seconds to realize Spider-Man was speaking to him.

“Please! Just—Try to stay calm, okay? That thing shocks you any time it senses a mood spike or adrenaline rush.”

W-What?

Harry lowered his arms enough to see the masked person past them. Spider-Man was inches away, gesturing as he spoke. Harry shuddered involuntarily, mind replaying again and again the way getting his face beat in had felt.

“Okay,” said Spider-Man, “Okay! Good. Uhm. There’s really no easy way to do this. I’m gonna get you out of there, and an alarm is going to sound, and then we’re probably just going to have to wing it, okay?”

Before Harry could think about what any of the words his frantic brain had half-heard had meant, the masked figure wound up a kick, and fractures cascaded along the glass tube in front of him. Harry yelped and tried to drag himself back and away, but there was nowhere to GO in the tube. Spider-Man swung and kicked the glass again, and this time little spurts of liquid shot out from the webbed glass cracks. Harry didn’t see the dent in the glass. He flinched and saw the foot connect with himself. Felt the way his ribs had. The way they still hurt.

Ah ah ah ah!

Electricity sparked along his back, sharp and furious this time, stronger, and he collapsed against the floor of the tube with it in surprise, twitching. Why why why make it stop make it stop!

It hurt; it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt! Couldn’t—move! Couldn’t…!

The glass shattered, and he was knocked out with the remaining water, catching halfway to the floor as his restraints snapped taut and hung him there painfully.

“I-I got you!”

He could barely see, couldn’t think at all. Muscles still twitching. He felt the restraints snap, and landed against the floor, suddenly struggling to breathe.

“Here.”

The oxygen mask came off, and he could breathe again. There were sirens sounding. Lights flashing. He didn’t understand why. What was going on. Where am I?

O-Oscorp? Why? Everything felt unreal, but that didn’t make him less afraid of it.

When he looked up, Spider-Man was there, kneeling beside him, an arm on his back, and the terror kicked back in full throttle.

With every ounce of strength he had, Harry shoved off the masked figure and stumbled up, running blindly.

He heard, “Wait!” called after him, but didn’t even process the word through the adrenaline, and he tore through the lab with all his might. No plan. No exit. Just adrenaline and fear and desperation.

Something snagged a foot and he slammed forward into the ground and felt himself being dragged back.

No no no!

Twisting frantically onto his back, Harry saw web wrapped around the chain on his ankle, saw that thing reeling him towards it like he was trapped on a hook.

Anger overwhelmed him and he screamed, reaching blindly for the nearest thing—a computer console, and chucked it at him. Spider-Man dodged, but he let go to do it, and Harry scrambled to his feet and tried to run again, only to be hit in the back by something and knocked to the ground.

Spider-Man was on him then, a knee on his back, and Harry screamed and tried to twist around and kick him off.

“I’m sorry about this!” called the thing on top of him.

There were voices, close. Shouts. Louder sirens. Harry was seeing none of it past three days ago. Past being trapped under this thing and the way it had felt when the visor had shattered with a punch and cut the skin by his eyes, and frantic, he twisted onto his back and swung up at Spider-Man only to have a web knock the fist back and pin it to his body. He struggled, trying to get it free, but the thing spun him, winding a web around his arms and legs like a rope, and then dragged him up and flung him over one of its shoulders.

The doors opened at the far end of the lab. Harry was paralyzed for a second, overwhelmed with different memories at the sight of the people in white coats, the men in body armor with guns. The sting of needles, electricity running up his back, chain digging into his wrists, cold, confusion, anger. So much anger.

He lost time to it. Everything seemed frozen in his head, and then time came back and he was at the far end of the room, and Spider-Man was kicking through a wall and running, carrying him with him.

Fury took over and he lost time again to it as he started to fight against the bonds, brain registering only fragments. Labs, gunshots, flashing lights. Some huge drop in a shaft, an office, and then Spider-Man was swinging through a window and he was free-falling, tied up and slung over a kidnapper’s shoulder, and he came back as the anger gave way to fear again.

He screamed, and started to struggle, and felt Spider-Man’s grip slip for a second, and realized to his horror that if he broke free now, he would fall eighteen stories and flatten against the pavement, and went perfectly still, eyes squeezed shut and trying not to shake. There was nothing else he could do. Fight: die. Submit: …and what?

I don’t understand, I don’t understand! he thought desperately, overwhelmed, the sensation of falling coming again and again sickeningly with his eyes squeezed shut, afraid to look as Spider-Man held onto him and swung through the city, Why? What do you want! Why is this happening? What are you going to do?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything, except that he was scared and alone. He had been scared and alone for so long, he could barely remember anything else.

Something had happened three days ago. He couldn’t remember. But something really, really bad. And Spider-Man had hurt him, a-and if being locked up hadn’t been enough to satisfy him, then…?

He was scared.

They stopped, finally. He felt Spider-Man land on solid ground, and after a few seconds with no change in that, he let himself open his eyes. Still afraid to move. Harry didn’t recognize the place. An underpass? A tunnel? Something dark. Spider-Man went right to a wall and tugged a piece of cardboard graffiti aside, and there was a door behind it. He keyed in a code, and stepped in quick, Harry still slung over a shoulder, and then they were just in the dark.

There were about two seconds of blackness, and then a light switched on, and Harry felt his stomach drop as the pitch black space lit up and became a lab, with a tank of liquid a very familiar color in a corner.

Despair submerged him like he was already locked inside it again, and he stayed still, too overwhelmed to accept the situation, to think at all.

Nothing but fear.

No no. Please not again. Why. Why?

Spider-Man got to the center of the room and laid him on the floor, and Harry stayed limp, listening, trying frantically to find any way out of this, and coming up blank.

What is he going to do to me?

He wanted to cry. He didn’t want to die yet. Here, alone, without seeing his dad or his friends. He. He wanted to get out. He…

“Okay. Sorry, let me get that.”

Harry barely registered words at all, as Spider-Man knelt and started to pull the webbing off. Just lay there, shaking. Thinking about the tank and the pain in his ribs and his eye. And then his upper torso was free, and with a sudden surge of desperation, Harry lashed out and caught the Spider in the side of the head with a yell.

It had been a lucky shot, and his second swing wasn’t so lucky. Spider-Man caught the fist and dragged it back against the ground, then snagged the other and pinned him down as Harry frantically thrashed and writhed beneath him.

“No!” he shouted, finding his voice for the first time, “Let me go! Stop!”

“Harry! Please!” tried Spider-Man, struggling with him, “Don’t—Just stop! It’s okay!”

Harry could hear the chains still on his wrists dragging against the concrete floor as his kidnapper tried to hold him down.

“Get off me! Help! Please!” shouted Harry, “Help!”

“Harry! Harry it’s okay!”

“Please! Somebody!”

“You’re okay! —Harry it’s me!” Spider-Man let go of one of his arms for an instant and ripped his mask off. “It’s me! I’m not going to hurt you! You’re safe! I promise! I promise.”

Harry stopped and stared.

Above him, Spider-Man cautiously let go of his arms and sat up a little, worried face looking back.

“…Peter?” asked Harry in broken disbelief.

Peter Parker nodded.

…he…

“The…whole time?” he asked.

Peter nodded again. “Yeah.”

Harry shot up and flung his arms around Peter and clung to him.

He felt Peter freeze up, but all he could think was his own relief.

“Peter,” he cried, burying his head against his neck.

There was a second, and then he felt Peter’s arms close around him and hug him back.

He had never felt safer or happier in his life.

“Pete, I don’t know what’s going on,” he pleaded, unable to stop crying in relief, “Something’s really wrong with me.”

“I know,” came his best friend’s voice, steady and reassuring as always.

“I-I’m so sorry; I think I hurt you,” he stuttered, “when—I-I don’t remember why we were fighting, but-”

“-Me too,” cut in Peter worriedly, “I’m really sorry—I had no idea it was you.”

“Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you,” said Harry, digging his face in deeper against Peter’s neck and holding onto him like it was the only thing keeping him alive, “I thought I was gonna die there.”

“Never,” promised Peter worriedly, “I’d never let that happen.”

“How did you find me?” asked Harry, finally opening his eyes.

“As soon as I knew it was you, I just stayed close,” said Peter, “Followed Oscorp. I’m…so sorry I didn’t know. Th-that you were sick, and this whole time you’ve been missing…”

Harry loosened his grip enough to sit back so he could see Peter again, and smiled at him. “How could you have known?”

Peter smiled back, and he looked so sad and so happy and so relieved and so worried all at the same time, that Harry wasn’t sure what it meant.

He felt worry blossom in his chest again. “Pete… What’s going on?” he asked, glancing behind him at the tank, and around at the equipment with some growing unease, then back at Peter. “W-Why am I here? Why do you have that?”

Peter followed his gaze to the tank, and his expression became worried. Which was not reassuring.

He wouldn’t hurt me. This is Peter. He wouldn’t.

“I…nobody told you?” asked Peter, something in his expression breaking, “Did they tell you anything?”

“O-Oscorp?” checked Harry, “No. Or…I-I don’t remember.” Trying to remember hurt.

“Okay,” said Peter slowly, thinking, and looking very upset. There was the faint clink of metal from the snapped chains as he took Harry’s hands gently in his own and looked back at him. “There’s some kind of drug Oscorp had you take. I think because you were sick. It’s altered your DNA, but, not exactly like they thought. It’s why you can’t remember much about fighting me. It kicks in hard with adrenaline and some emotional responses, anger especially. But it hasn’t finished altering you. They haven’t figured out a way to counter it or get it out, but the stuff in the tank, it keeps the serum close to inert. Buys some time to try to find an antidote before it gets worse. I’m…so sorry they didn’t even explain why they were doing things.”

Drug…?

A flash of pain dug into the right side of his skull, and he let go of Peter’s hand to clutch his forehead.

“Har?!” he heard Peter call worriedly, felt a hand in his back.

“I-I’m okay,” he managed, fingers digging into his skin, “I’m okay. Sorry. I…”

“Are you sure?” asked Peter, anxiously helping him straighten back up.

No?

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

Words replayed in his head, memories, bad ones, and he took the lab in for a third time.

“So then…” he asked with a sinking feeling, eyeing the oxygen tanks and the monitors, “This is all for me.”

“I’m…sorry,” said Peter, sounding truly miserable, “I didn’t know what else to do. I thought, this way I can help. We can find a cure, and Oscorp won’t find you, and…I know, it still sucks, but.”

There was something about his expression, and Harry felt sick. He turned his head to take in the tank again. A little box. A little glass cage. He felt a shudder run down him. Something worse. “P-Peter,” he tried, looking back at him, “Did I hurt people?”

Peter looked so taken aback by the question.

“When I…when we fought. And…I-I can’t remember. But. I hurt people, didn’t I?”

Peter didn’t answer, but from Peter, that was its own answer, and Harry felt his heart crumble to dust.

He looked away, down at the floor.

“Har…” said Peter hesitantly.

“It’s okay,” said Harry quietly, trying not to think, “I’ll go. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

“Har…I won’t—…I wouldn’t make you. You know that, right?”

He looked up at Peter, and smiled. It was good to hear him say that. He hadn’t been sure.

“Thank you,” he said again, still feeling sick at the thought of going back in a tank, “For everything, Pete.”

Peter smiled back at him, and he was overwhelmed.

He put his arms around Peter again and pulled him close, burying his face against Peter and trying to soak in the feeling so he could remember it. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to go back.

“Harry,” said Peter after a second, almost gently.

“I-I know,” said Harry, clinging tighter, “I’ll go. I will. I promise. Just, please. I haven’t been out in a year. Just another minute before I go back in there. Please.”

Peter was quiet. He felt arms close around his back and return the embrace again.

“I was going to say I think it’s okay if we wait a little. I need to get a read on the mutation rate outside the tank as a baseline anyway. Maybe we could get a pizza, some real food, just. Sit for a little bit,” came Peter’s voice.

Harry hugged him tighter, trying not to cry again.

He nodded.

“Okay,” said Peter quietly, and there was a smile in his voice, “Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll go grab us one.”

“Thank you,” managed Harry, eyes shut. Afraid opening them would wake him up, “for saving me.”

Peter leaned his head against Harry’s.

“I missed you,” said Harry.

“I missed you too,” answered Pete.

#spider-man Ps4 fic #spider-man fic #Harry Osborn #Spider-Man #Peter Parker #me writing #parksborn #I wanted to write about Peter dealing with betrayal after Otto and loss and his own beliefs and I’ve always loved what he and Harry have #and wanted to write about pain and fear and healing and themes they’ve had together since the OG

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takerfoxx · 2 years

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The Sandman, Season 1, Episode 8, "Playing House," First Impressions!

Wow, there is a lot to unpack here.

I suspect that this is probably a pretty polarizing episode, given how much has been changed and shifted around. And, okay, some of it I liked, some of it I'm raising an eyebrow at but will wait and see where it's going, and some of it could have been done better.

Starting things off with the first category, we have Rose meeting and working with Dream from the onset. This is interesting, as not only does it make Dream a more active participant, it also throws into sharp relief what a cold bastard he can be. Like, his priority is just to use her traits as a Vortex to draw the missing dreams back to him before dealing with her personally. He openly encourages her to look for Jed, but not for her sake; he just wanted to find Gault, and he simply discards Jed once he has her.

But in the process, we got a really cool scene as Rose walks from dream to dream, passing through basically the dreams her housemates had in the last part of The Doll's House comic when she collapsed the walls between their dreams. So I wonder if they're going to get new dreams when that actually happens? Btw, Hal's dream was, um, horrifying! Yeah. Ken was the only one with a new dream, though the jumbled-up writing on the fliers did call back to the font used in his original dreams of sex and money. Now I guess he got caught cheating?

Also, now with Dream there to observe the dreams, is he just like okay with Barbie claiming the Porpentine? Isn't that one of his original dreamstones?

Speaking of Hal, I honestly loved his frustrated little speech about giving up dreams. Like, we know that he's eventually going to achieve his dream with his shock jock drag comedian show, and it's going to turn him into kind of an asshole that has a big falling out with Rose and the Spider Women, but I also really did feel for him. Like, he's doing the best he can and making the most of what he has, but having these big dreams and not making it really stung. It felt very human.

On the parts I'm reserving judgment about, there's Lyta Hall and her dead husband. Huh. Okay, originally Hector Hall was the Silver Age Sandman, except it was all a lie concocted by Brute and Glob (now replaced with Gault), who trapped him inside of Jed's subconscious and built up this weird fantasy to keep him there, and they brought in Lyta as well, who was pregnant for two years until Dream showed up and callously destroyed the dream, punished Brute and Glob, sent Hector to the afterlife, and left Lyta in the wreckage of her life, but not promising to be back to take her son away, given that Daniel had gestated in a Dream. Naturally, she doesn't take this lying down, leading to The Kindly Ones, Dream's death, and Daniel's ascension as the new Dream.

Well, parts of that are here. Sort of. She is in a relationship with her dead husband, who lives in dreams, but she doesn't live with him, only visits when she's asleep, and he wants her to join him. Like, does he want her to kill herself? What is he? He seems more than your average dream. Is it really Hector? The original Hector was still him, albeit his ghost. The fact that Lyta is actually pregnant in the waking world seems to indicate that something's up. It's intriguing, but to be honest, the weirdness of her original story is missed, to go from this silly Silver Age comic to harsh reality and all that. Well, we'll wait and see.

And finally, there's Jed. I was wrong about them not having Silver Age Sandman, because now it's actually Jed filling that role, with Gault still acting as his HQ, disguised as his mom. Okay, this is actually an improvement over the original, as it makes more sense and makes things much more personal. I just wish we could've seen more of it, like just one other scene of him escaping to his superhero fantasy instead of the two we got. I dunno, I just feel that separating Lyta Hall and the Silver Age Sandman sort of dilutes them both? Like if they were afraid it would be too cheesy, it's fine to embrace the cheese!

On a more positive note, the Corinthian continues to be one of the best parts of the season. Hal, yah dodged a bullet there. I do wish we got to see him slaughtering Uncle Barnaby, though with Clarice now an abuse victim as well it would've been...uncomfortable. Well, more uncomfortable.

I also really liked Gault's speech. I'm still unsure how I feel about Brute and Glob getting cut, but that "Even Nightmares can dream" is a cutting line, especially how it relates to Dream's eventual fate.

...next up is The Collectors.

Okay, yeah. Here we go.

#the sandman #neil gaiman #dream of the endless #rose walker #lyta hall #hector hall #gault #jed walker #the corinthian #playing house #netflix #review

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twenty-words-or-less · 1 year

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Top 5 Best Films of 2019

Okay, so I don't normally do this, but I've seen so many films this year that I thought I would summarise them by making top 5 lists. This one deals with my top 5 best (or favourite) films of the year.

IMPORTANT: I shall keep these as spoiler-free and short as I can.

5. Midsommar

A film that feels like it was made by a 50+y/o European that was actually made by a 30+y/o American. I initially thought it was kind of 'eh'. However, it did lodge in my head, and the more I thought about it and the more analyses I read/ watched, the more I liked it. It grew on me much like grass grew on our poor beleaguered protagonist in the numerous hallucinations she has over the course of the film.

4. Booksmart

Like the female answer to Superbad only with zero period jokes (thank fuck). Legitimately funny, rewatchable, and the lead characters have great chemistry. Shame that only ten people saw it, but roughly seven of those people - including [REDACTED] and I - enjoyed it immensely. Special mention goes to Billie Lourd, who was a fucking delight to watch in every scene she was in.

3. John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum

A coherent, beautiful-looking action film that manages to be as good as its predecessors, which is highly unusual in a film series. I still care about the characters at this point, and I'd be happy to follow these characters through many more installments.

2. Doctor Sleep

The only TRULY good 2019 Stephen King adap, do not @ me. Despite one incredibly distressing scene, I would probably buy this on DVD or at least rewatch it. It's good to see Ewan McGregor get work again, especially as a ravaged, PTSD-ridden Dan Torrance, and it's fantastic to see Rebecca Ferguson get good work after the shitstorm that was "The Snowman" and the dull-as-fuck, grossly overrated "The Greatest Showman". Again, it's a shame that only five people saw it (basically). Genuinely good film.

Honourable mentions before we get to my #1, in no particular order:

Ready or Not: Samara Weaving gives it her all in this blackly comic slasher. I want to see her in more things. Also, on a more superficial note, her wedding dress in this was really pretty, even ripped to shreds and completely soaked in blood.

Crawl: A surprisingly good creature feature that was an absolute blast to watch. Also, the dog lives, which I am very happy about.

Knives Out: the best thing Rian Johnson has done since Looper. Strong cast and beautiful to look at (the film, I mean, not the cast), even if I did get a little lost near the end. Oh, and it automatically improves lad culture if you change the title to Get Your Knives Out For The Lads.

Child's Play: a remake that actually managed to update the setting and keep the things that made the original, well, the original? Holy shit. Also, the end credits song is incredibly catchy.

Avengers: Endgame: as anyone who knows me knows, I'm a slut for superhero films. Long as this was, it stuck the landing; it was a 3hr thank you for sticking with the franchise despite most of the films being 'eh'. Also, I LOVED Cap's ending, just saying.

And now, the most important one...

1. Brightburn

Or as I like to call it, We Need To Talk About Kal-El. Jackson A. Dunn was uncannily perfect for the titular role and the gore effects were fantastic (the car scene in particular). It works as a standalone film and the groundwork for any sequels, which I would happily go and watch, btw. I'd been looking forward to this for months, and I got exactly what I wanted from it. End of.

Whew, this turned out to be longer than I anticipated! Thanks for reading if you made it to the end. This has been my top 5 best; I shall post my top 5 worst later today (I'm seeing "Cats", and I anticipate it making the list). 🎵 Stay tuuuned... 🎵

~Mikey

#best of 2019 #2019 #mikey #midsommar #booksmart #john wick chapter 3 parabellum #doctor sleep #ready or not #crawl #knives out #looper #avengers endgame #brightburn #from the vault

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twinklefists · 2 years

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@cosmicveiined: liked for a starter -- [ x ] (for lena)

“ okay, hear me out. ”

now, if you knew carol danvers at all, you’d know that 90% of the time, a comment like that coming from her meant she had a bad idea in mind. if you asked her, though, she would be the first to deny it. my ideas are always good, she’d say, so you’re better off sparing yourself the argument by just letting her say what she wants to, not unlike letting a toddle ramble about something until they ran out of steam.

carol held her hands out, smile on her lips, movements animated. it was not often she was in a good mood, but since deciding to stay on earth for a little while, in a sort of mono-vacation, her burn out had improved tenfold. even a universe-manipulating superhero like herself needed time off. however, it did tend to make her a bit antsy, which was exactly how bad ideas like this were born. and yes, most of her bad ideas involved leaving earth.

( despite how long she’d been on earth, she still REFUSED to play fortnite, no matter how much thor tried to convince her to. )

“i know i’m supposed to be taking a break,” she started, which was not a good start at all. “but i was thinking, when i do go back up there, there’s this planet, that’s literally just covered in dogs. and more than half of them look like chewie. your dog, not the actual chewbacca. humans aren’t technically allowed there, but they’ve made an exception for me before. just a day trip! nothing bad can happen on that planet. then i can go right back to relaxing.

a pause. this was usually where the bad part of the idea came in. “well, aside from the war they’re still recovering from with the alligator planet, but i’m sure that’s over with now. there it was.

to be fair, though, carol offered a ton of people space trips, everywhere possible, to planets she knew they would like. very rarely did they ever get in trouble in the process. she used to take monica to amusement park planets when she was a child, and there was never an issue, except for one time involving angry lizard people, but monica had talked them down. the possibility of this going bad was minimal. if it did, she was confident lena could hold her own again giant alligators. “if i’m not doing superhero stuff it’s still technically a break, right?”

#threads tbt #cosmicveiined #HI HI FRIEND #SORRY THIS IS SO LONG LMAO

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hylianengineer · 2 years

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I am smacking you all in the face with hope for the future, dammit! (affectionately)

There’s a trend I’m noticing with people in their 20s (I am also in my 20s but I’m not Like This for whatever reason): people keep saying stuff like “The world isn’t gonna be around for another 50 years” or “I’m not gonna live past 40.″ Which is disturbing in a lot of ways, obviously, and I suck at interpreting jokes so maybe it’s that, I do think they’re at least partly joking, but... Y’all need some hope in your lives, Jesus Christ. I know we live in an era of uncertainty and bad things exist but holy cow, you’ve gotta remember good things exist too! Otherwise you’ll just lose your mind and that’s not helping anything.

I know there are a lot of factors here, including human rights and politics and economics, etc., but I’m going to focus on the one I know the most about: climate change. And I’m in a unique position, because I am an environmental science student, which means I have heard all the climate doom stuff AND many of the possible solutions. I’ve been thinking of making a climate hope blog for a while now, but I’m having a hard time finding the energy. I’m increasingly convinced that needs to be a thing, though, so while I battle the annoying tasks of Real Life which are currently devouring my free time, here’s a reading/other resources list for anybody who needs some hope for the (environmental) future (tentatively organized from being the most-to-least work to read/watch/whatever, though that’s just in my experience and ymmv):

[Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with any of these things or their creators, they’re just things I enjoyed or found helpful]

The Future Crunch Newsletter: Want to hear about all the ways the world is getting better? Want to read about the downfall of the fossil fuel industry, the successes of renewable energy and electric vehicles, or the mind-blowing improvements in health and quality of life that are happening around the world? Then you will love this newsletter! This is one of those things I never stop recommending to people, because I know I’m not the only person whose sanity desperately needs it. This one does have a paid version which has more stuff but the free one is awesome too. I also highly recommend the annual “100 Good News Stories You Missed In [Year]” article. This is the single easiest and most accessible thing on this list, so if you find it hard to read books (very understandable, so do I), then you might find this newsletter more appealing.

How To Save A Planet [podcast]: This is mostly what is sounds like: a podcast in which each episode focuses on a planet-saving solution, and ends with a call to action about how you can contribute. Actually, hang on, back up: I don’t mean planet-saving in the sense of superhero movies, where one solution fixes everything. I mean little things that can all contribute to the big picture - that’s generally the kind of solutions those of us in the field of environmental studies talk about, and if you want to see this on a big scale (as in literally a step-by-step plan for putting a bunch of little things together into the big picture), check out Project Drawdown - I’ll talk about it more later.

It’s just neat to hear about the different (and sometimes bizarre) ways people are trying to solve this problem.

2040 [documentary]: Well, sort of a documentary? It’s been described as “an exercise in fact-based dreaming.” It’s the story of a filmmaker who travels the world to imagine a hopeful future for his daughter: one in which already existing solutions have been used to solve climate change. These solutions run the gamut from fairly normal (solar power) to kinda bizarre (kelp farming via marine permaculture - look up permaculture if sustainable farming is something you’re into, it’s insanely cool). Okay, kelp farming doesn’t sound that bizarre, but the way it’s depicted made my head explode, in a good way. Maybe that’s just me. I’ll stop rambling, here’s a Wikipedia article with a synopsis in case none of that made any sense.

Project Drawdown: Okay, fair warning, this one might melt your brain a little. (I mean, not all of it, they’ve got some great intro videos too. Just... the table of solutions is overwhelming.) But that’s not entirely a bad thing, because it is literally a step-by-step guide to climate change mitigation. Of course it’s not going to be simple. And yes, they did the math: the table of solutions consists of 94 different strategies, and how much CO2-equivalent emissions they would prevent or sequester in the next 30 years according to two different scenarios. It’s kinda wild to look at, because holy shit they did the math! It makes the whole thing feel concrete in a way most discussions of climate mitigation don’t. And if the math sounds a bit much, maybe check out these lovely video lessons, which are each about 15 minutes long.

(You might notice I keep saying mitigation, as opposed to say, prevention or something. Sorry folks, but we’re kinda past the stage of preventing it - we’re already experiencing climate change. But that doesn’t mean we can’t stop the worst of its effects, or that the world is gonna end. The world is changing, yeah. It does that, always has and always will, it’s just changing right now in ways we haven’t seen before. Yes, those changes could be really bad - some already are - but they’re far from the worst thing this planet has been through, and we have a lot of really brilliant and dedicated people working on this. It’ll be rough, no question, but I really do believe this is something we can get through.)

The Long Way To A Small Angry Planet by Becky Chambers: A sorta solarpunk scifi novel focusing on the multi-species crew of a wormhole-building spaceship and their chaotic found family dynamic. Some of the best worldbuilding I’ve ever encountered, and it’s an interesting story for our era because it shows how humanity has rebuilt after a mentioned-in-passing catastrophe which destroyed Earth, and somehow isn’t morbid about this at all. It’s also got an interesting dynamic on the galactic politics side of things, as humans aren’t in charge - we’re actually a small and minimally influential species, and one of the key parts of the novel is how the human captain of the Wayfarer wants to do big tunnel-building jobs that are usually left to other species. Becky Chambers has a lot of hopeful, cozy scifi novels, most of which I have not yet read, but everything I have read by her has been awesome.

Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer is a nonfiction book by a botanist, professor, and member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation. It focuses on Traditional Ecological Knowledge (that’s a thing environmental academics talk about and it’s basically what it sounds like: the ways people in a variety of cultures, especially Indigenous ones, traditionally interact with and know the world around them), the relationship between people and the environment, and how these can intersect with Western science. If you’d like your entire understanding of human-environment relationships turned upside down in a way that will give you hope for the future, this is the book for you. It’s a great antidote to that thing people say about how humans are just bad and destructive and a plague upon the earth, yada yada yada. It’s also organized such that you don’t have to read the whole thing; each chapter stands well alone, and you can get a lot out of it even if you just read one (I admit to not having finished the book, executive dysfunction is a thing). I had to read this for a class last year and have recommended it to people every chance I’ve gotten since; it is that good.

#hope for the planet #climate change #climate change solutions #environmental issues #environmental science #hope #hope for the future #you guys i am begging you to engage with nondepressing stuff #i hope this is at least semi comprehensible #because i am suffering from 'this is my whole life and i don't know how much background normal people have' disease #i should mention that environmental scientists struggle with climate anxiety too! a lot! that's why we know so much about resources for it #one of the most common strategies is to take a solutions-based approach and i have found it very effective but ymmv #there's a saying about how knowledge is one of the best ways to fight anxiety and in my experience that is also very true #sorry to kinda throw this rant at you all on a sunday afternoon I don't know why I suddenly had to put it on paper (screen) but it has been #building for months and months as my classes have taught me all this cool stuff that i desperately want to share #profanity warning #i love you all please let me show you all the cool fact-based hopefulness #i am doing minimal proofreading so if this is chaos i am sorry; i have suddenly found the ability to Write Stuff today and I'm gonna use it #while it lasts

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norcalbruja · 1 month

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So in an elaboration of the “I help people in the way they ask” subject, Tony told me a little while back, “look, I started out human. And if someone asks me for help with a problem, I help WITH THAT PROBLEM. I don’t just do the ‘inner-guidance bullshit,’ forget to actually give you some real-life help, and then wonder why you’re still miserable three years later.”

Of course, his desire to help me out also gets a little mixed up with... being Tony Stark.

So a couple days before my birthday, Tony said, “So, honey, what kind of birthday present do you want for turning 34?”, and given his talks earlier, he clearly meant an actual “birthday present” and not spiritual hijinxs.

And I spent way too many years getting well-intended questions like that from the spirits and never really getting anything physical/meatspace related, but given his earlier talks and how he got me a free laptop repair, I was like “Uhhhhhh, Tony??? can you get me something that improves my life… legally… so I can either quit my job or get my own place soon???” Honestly I don’t care if that sounds like I’m dealing with the Fair Folk, but he asked. 😭

And given Iron Man's track record, I do not want to stumble on someone's gun stash or something. Hard no on weapons or drugs, Tony.

Meanwhile, some superheroes definitely need to watch themselves around actual gods.

On the night of March 20, or the morning of March 21, because my insomnia doesn’t care if it’s my birthday and I’m trying to get to sleep BEFORE 3am, this motherfucker Tony just blasted into the meditation in full Iron Man gear going “BIRTHDAY PRESENT!!! COME ON!!!”

And the Water-Spirit was like "Tony, calm down. She doesn't expect you to give her a present right at dawn."

Tony was like, "Well, what are you gonna do about it, Inkstains? You're whipped."

So Hera went, "Tony, I know this is a strange concept to you, but SHE IS TRYING TO SLEEP!"

Tony went, "You have no power over me, Hera, you can't just TELL me to leave!", so she turned More Goddess (in the way that makes it hurt when mortals behold a Greek god's true(r) form) and then she just bitch-slapped him across the spiritual room. 😬

This facet of Hera clearly likes her Iliad portrayal.

Yeah, so Tony was feeling that when he finally got back up. I think he would have been concussed at bare minimum if he was Flesh-And-Blood, and he went, "Owwww. Ohhhhh my god. Well, goddess. Okay, I'll leave you all to your sleepover."

It seems Tony's fed up with my particular lack of meatspace progress. As I've mentioned before on my blog, the spirits I've met can "smell the pain/rage" on me (not helping since I don't know where most of the Tagalog gods are), and here's Tony going, "WELL OF COURSE SHE'S MISERABLE. She asks for the same shit all the time and nothing changed. Have any of you fuckers tried getting her a house or an art career???"

He gets along nicely with Dionysus, who is also fed up with my lack of progress--Dionysus refers to a lot of my spiritual stuff as "people keep giving you self-help shit instead of REAL help."

Tony gives me some serious class-traitor vibes, because he says I'm basically him without the money or the super-suit, and there's a lot more folks like me stuck in retail or other survival jobs than there are rich folks with ACTUAL talent like him.

As Stephen Jay Gould says, "I am, somehow, less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein’s brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops."

#personal gnosis #unverified personal gnosis #pop culture paganism

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complainingatthevoid · 11 months

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Superheroes, status quo, and the allure of simple solutions

Here’s how learning physics felt to me:

Learn an explanation of how something works.

Be told that explanation is actually a simplified model of reality, and be shown a different, more complex version.

Be told that version is a simplification, etc., etc.

Of course, it’s not like any of those steps were particularly easy, and the math scales up fast. But I also know that while maybe there’s people out there that could jump right to the complex calculus versions of those ideas and the intuition that’s required for them, I’m not one of them.

That generally seems to be the process in learning complex material. You learn a simplified version, which is as complex as you can understand at the time, because new material is hard. They you learn increasingly complex versions as you try to slowly approach what might be the truth.

The older I get, the more I learn about the world, the more its becoming clear how much of my knowledge about everything, if I really do try to learn about it, follows a similar pattern, from trying to understand history, to literature, to politics. I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with that, because again, the world is deeply complex, and jumping in to the hard version is probably too much for most people. Even knowing what the hard version is may be beyond a beginner. But it’s also important to remember that this is a process, that at any moment there are probably flaws in my understanding of the world, many things I still need to learn and many things that I only understand in a simplified context.

What does this have to do with superheroes?

Pop Culture Detective, in his video “Marvel Defenders of The Status Quo” on YouTube did a great job describing how the superhero genre presents its heroes as those who preserve the status quo, rather than those who seek to fight injustices in our own world, and in fact could easily stand as barriers to the kind of change that could improve those injustices. I’ve been thinking about it, and how, as much as I might also enjoy more challenging media, when I come home exhausted from work and life and everything else, I often end up watching something like superhero media instead, as its all I might feel like I have the energy to deal with.

I think, to me at least, the simplification, more than the power fantasy, is the escapism of superhero media. That’s probably not any big revelation. But I do wonder about the fact that superhero media has gotten so incredibly popular in a time when the world feels more and more chaotic, when we have so much information at our fingertips and yet feel like we have so little control. It can be nice, then, spend a little time in a world with flawless moral paragons and perfect solutions to problems that are easy to understand. To spend an hour not thinking about every horrible implication and dangerous knock-on effect, and just assume things will be okay.

But is there something dangerous in that?

Because I think most of us understand that solving real problems will be much harder than a Marvel movie. But I think it can also be easy, when we’re tired, to try to ignore that constant barge of complexity, to convince ourselves that we’re looking at reality, when we’re actually looking at the simplified model.

The usual explanation of why superheroes shouldn’t change the status quo is that they shouldn’t play god. That they are humans, and even moral paragons shouldn’t assume they can understand everything well enough to make decisions for the rest of us. The reality, of course, is that it’s generally much easier to write episodic stories that way, and stories set in a world that feels much like are own can be a particularly comfortable type of escapism.

But I think its also useful to remember that it’s a simplification. That decisions in life shouldn’t be made to feel comfortable, and we don’t always have the luxury to choose not to act just because we might not have all the information. Or the luxury to assume that inaction will be less harmful that trying to understand that complexity enough to do something about it.

#superhero genre #superhero media #marvel

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starbuckie · 3 years

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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing(s): college!peter parker x reader, dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!sam wilson x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader

words: 8.1k words

warnings: DARK!FIC, SMUT 18+ (unprotected sex, foursome turned fivesome, gangbang, non-con/dub-con, daddy kink, oral M and F-receiving, spit kink, degredation kink, praise kink, creampie), age-gap (reader is in her early 20s), cheating, angst, there’s like zero fluff

summary: peter should’ve made it back to the tower for date night on time, or maybe just before he found his girlfriend being fucked by three other superheroes.

a/n: eee my first dark fic! im so so happy with the way this turned out, and even though it was a pain in my ass for nearly three months, im so hapy to share it with y’all. this idea was brought up by an anon from @mypoisonedvine’s saturday sleepover a few months back, but i switched up tony and sam bc i didn’t like the tony and peter stuff. hopefully my smut has improved from the first time i wrote it in january, and just a reminder that in no way, shape, or form do i condone rape of any kind. there’s a large difference from the page and the real world. i try to put all tw’s in the tags and warnings, but if there was something i missed please tell me. thank you to my lovely bestie @mermaidxatxheart for beta-reading(i have no fucking clue what i’d do without your help). feel free to leave a comment or two and reblog, but don’t repost anywhere or i will hunt down your ass. thank you again and please please enjoy <3

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Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck Y/N as soon as he saw her.

It started with a faint mention, something Tony had thrown around along the lines of, “Parker’s bringing his girl down here tomorrow, don’t be an asshole”. He didn’t give a damn what Tony said or how he acted around Peter’s girl. Years of being thrown between gruesome mind-wiping and being half-dead, asleep in a freezer would do that to a man.

So the next day when Peter brought his girlfriend in, he was scratching his ass like a fucking ape and downing a beer with a messy bun at the nape of his neck, until he actually saw her. Neat hair, even neater laces with a sweet smile but a body that could kill. Didn’t matter that she was bundled under Parker’s hoodie and a pair of jeans- he could always admire a pretty dame, but Bucky could see that she was beyond that. It was as if God had intentionally made the one being, the one ethereal creature beautiful and angelic enough to be a sin away from him, so that he couldn’t touch her. Because she was young, and in her twenties, and that shouldn’t have even been the first two things that popped up in his mind because she was also Peter’s girlfriend.

But then she had the audacity to stick her hand out, a shy grin and twinkle in her eyes as she gave her name. It sounded so pretty rolling off of her tongue, and he wondered what it would sound like while he groaned it into her cunt.

Y/N.

So, yeah, maybe Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck her as soon as he met her, but it was pretty damn close after.

Steve Rogers was one of very few men who said they had the pleasure of banging nearly every woman on the north side of Manhattan. Bucky indulged in the fact that the man who had once been too shy to do so much as meet a gal’s gaze was now “a dollar whore”, but he was more than happy to keep that title if it meant he could continue to get off in the nearest woman’s mouth everyday.

Every time he walked down the streets of New York with just a simple ball cap and jeans, he could feel stares on his back from what seemed like miles away, girls on every street corner just waiting for him to take her into the nearest public bathroom and fuck them dirty. CEOs, baristas, girls fresh out of getting master’s degrees with stars in their eyes and big dreams, until he shattered them by making them gag on his cock and scream his name into bedsheets. Or tile floors. He didn’t care as long as they were screaming. The girls of this century were just too delectable to turn down. He didn’t discriminate. His dick had been in women of every height, stature, hair color, and he had quite the variety throwing themselves at him as well.

And then Tony ruined it all and sat him down with a simple explanation that the image of Captain America was being tainted with disturbing stories of girls being fucked in the ass and thrown on their knees in dirty bathroom stalls. The blond was beyond pissed when the billionaire told him to stop dicking around, but he couldn’t do anything else if he wanted to keep his title and job. In a new century, even if he’d had a few years to adjust, he was still absolutely oblivious when it came to anything outside of aliens and sex. There was nothing left for him outside of being an Avenger, so reluctantly he agreed to keep his number of conquests to a minimum, and most definitely inside of the tower rather than out on the street.

However, inside of the tower seemed to be no problem at all when Peter brought his girlfriend over, all smiles and straight A’s, and that’s when Steve realized that he’d yet to fuck a bright, little college student. He could see himself stripping her from the innocence in her eyes, loosening up her pussy with his thick cock against the wall in his room.

Surely Tony couldn’t reprimand him for spending a little time trying to bond with Peter’s new girl, right?

Sam Wilson was a simple man. He had a job, a well-paid one at that, somewhere to live, a girlfriend, or a woman to keep him company, that’s for sure- but for once in his life he was seeking out something other than missions, something that would keep him busy when he was feeling bored, something like-

Pleasure, and he knew that he’d finally found what he was looking for the moment Peter brought his girlfriend through the elevator doors on the fifty-sixth level of the Avengers tower. She’d shaken his hand so daintily and spoke so politely that if he were to see her without any backstory, he’d think she was another innocent, dim-witted college student, breaking her bank account every Saturday morning and naively believing that her relationship would last longer than a few months. But by the things Parker had told him, she was much more than that.

Was it shitty of Peter to tell his teammates, the people he worked with, how Y/N was in bed? By the majority’s vote, probably, and by Sam’s strict conduct of his own morals, definitely, but when Peter’s girl looked like that and he was so incredibly bored with his routine?

Well, fuck, Sam had never been happier that the Spider-kid had told everyone how his girl gave head.

Peter brought his girlfriend in daily after that, and every one of her visits, she grew less shy and more friendly, and the Falcon saw each of his friends gape at her growing comfortability with a wolfish demeanor. It started with the water incident with Steve in the kitchen, where he so clearly spilled water on her already thin, white camisole with intention. Sam couldn’t say he was upset though, after all Steve had offered him and the rest of the Avengers quite a show when he tried to clean up her shirt, taking his sweet, sweet time to fondle her tits as subtly as he could, his eyes staring at her pebbled nipples poking through the material. He could see Bucky hiding his boner under his cereal bowl on the couch that day.

Then of course, he’d been no better than America’s sweetheart himself when he greeted Y/N with a hug that in hindsight, was a little too enthusiastic. His large hands squeezed into the pockets of her back pocket, and if the college student found anything weird with it, she didn’t say so, but Sam graciously palmed the round globes of her ass in his hands, feeling the muscle clench under his fingers. Oh, how he’d never hugged someone that tight ever before in his life. Maybe he would’ve gotten a bit further than squeezing her ass had it not been for his own girlfriend standing behind him, ready to introduce herself to Y/N.

Bucky, well, Sam could admit that Bucky had the most guts out of all of them. Though the super-soldier was normally well-reserved and polite, the dark glint in his eyes the day he met Y/N let him in on the secret that he had a much dirtier mind than most thought. It had been movie night that time, and he barely even tried to cover up how much he wanted the girl, his hands resting all over her as they watched Inception. Hardly a movie to get so riled up over, yet Bucky’s hand still inched its way up her thigh, his rough fingers gently carressing the flesh until they started to lightly trace the apex of her thighs.

If she noticed anything then, she didn’t comment on it, doe-like eyes just marvelling at the screen in great intrigue. It was only when Peter’s arms wrapped around her a bit tighter did she scooch away from Bucky’s touch, with a small apology and shy grin.

That only made his dick harder.

On the other side of Bucky, his super-soldier counterpart tapped his knee gently, forcing their blue eyes to meet each other. No words had to be said between the two, three men when they looked over to Sam, because they all recognized that look they saw in each other's eyes; predatory, dark, nearly voracious in the way they all wanted to be balls deep inside of Y/N.

And they would get there. No matter how long it took, they knew that the ultimate prize of tearing their prey apart would be more than worth the wait.

“Hey, babe, I’m gonna be a little late. Ned and I got stuck back in the lab, so we’re gonna need to stay until eight or nine. Can you make it to the tower by yourself alright?”

Peter’s concerned voice made Y/N smile gently as she trudged along the rainy streets of New York. He always loved to worry about her, especially when it was dark and gloomy out, but she could handle herself pretty okay. By pretty okay, of course meant she could kick ass like no other twenty-something year-old, but she wasn’t one to brag. Y/N readjusted the Kate Spade purse on her shoulder with her right hand, attempting to keep her umbrella over her head with the other. “I’ll be fine, Pete, just go finish up and get back to me. I’m gonna be waiting in your room at the tower before you go off on that mission this weekend.”

A small sigh came through the speaker, “Okay, I’ll try to get back to you soon. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Pete.”

“Oh,” she could hear the shy but no less mischievous smile that was taking over his face, “I left you a little present on the bed, make sure you open it before I get back.”

Y/N’s face heated at the implication. “Peter Parker, you dirty little-” He ended the call with a laugh, and she huffed out a small chuckle at his childish antics.

The walk to the Avengers tower would have been nice, had it not been for the downfall of rain, making everything mushy, socks being absolutely soaked through her sneakers by the time she arrived. The receptionist at the front desk, Jenny, if Y/N remembered correctly, stared at her a little oddly, probably not expecting to see the young college girl in such a state of disorder, but it didn’t affect her at all. She confidently strutted up to the elevator, pressing in the floor number where all the rooms were located. Y/N scrolled through her Twitter feed on her phone while classic rock blared through the elevator with the constant shuffling of people moving in and out. Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later she was sprinting down the halls with soggy shoes and damp hair, her cold body screaming for warmth.

Peter’s room was the farthest down the hall, and the room was fairly empty. He rarely stayed at his room in the tower, preferring to stay with his Aunt May or keep Y/N company in Brooklyn. When she entered the room, she saw a plain white shirt and a pair of socks strewn upon the carpeted floor, but what really caught her eye was the red box wrapped in a pink bow on the bed. Deciding it would add more suspense if she opened it later, she quickly hopped in the shower, letting the hot water warm her freezing, rigid muscles under the spray.

Peter didn’t have all the products she’d usually use before she knew they were going to have sex, so she had to make do with the half-used bar of Irish Spring and his small travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner, promising the fresh, breezy smell of citrus and mint. It was a quick process; two squeezes of shampoo, shaving with the green soap as best as she could without cutting herself, one squeeze of conditioner. A fuzzy towel sat waiting for Y/N on the rack, with the Spiderman symbol as a prank gift from her to her lovely boyfriend, and without a second to let the heat leave her damp skin, she wrapped herself in it, quickly hopping out to the bedroom again.

The lingerie she set out on the bed was a deep set burgundy color, with lace decorating the delicate corset and the trim of the satin panties. The packaging really did not do it justice. Y/N grinned at the new set, one that she knew would happily be torn from her body later. A shiver ran through her as she let the cold air fall over her skin, carefully slipping the lingerie on. It was a damn shame, really; the set was quite nice, and she reminded herself to buy more of the nicely suiting color for their nights together.

Click.

Y/N’s heart thumped with anticipation as she heard the door open and she took a quick moment to ready herself. Hair in perfect style, legs stretched along the length of the bed to make herself look as seductive as possible, a small smirk thrown on her pouty lips.

But in the darkened room, it wasn’t Peter’s shadow that appeared. Three men, three tall, bulkier men’s shadows appeared at the foot of the bed, and horror washed over her as she realized who they were. “Goddamn, dolly, I’ve imagined what you would’ve looked like under those sweaters, but this is much sweeter than I expected.”

The sinister face of Bucky Barnes came into her view, just a sliver of moonlight lighting up his pale skin. His eyes raked over Y/N’s uncovered skin, and goosebumps appeared as she tried to cover herself up under his predatory gaze.

“W-what are you doing here?” She whispered worriedly. Sam and Steve flanked the bed on either side of her, plastered sickly sweet smiles on their faces, providing her with a false sense of security that made her heart scream in fear. Though she wasn't making any noise, her lungs felt like they were going to give out, her throat closing up like an allergic reaction.

Her head whipped every which way in robotic movement, her brain seeming to fail her as she scanned the room for an exit. Several moments of shortened breaths, cold air chilling her body, before she came out of her freezing shock to realization.

“Why are you here? Please, get out, just g-get out!”

A calloused hand pushed away Y/N’s left arm that covered her tits, and Steve groaned at the sight of her pebbled nipples. “God, baby, they’re as pretty as I thought they’d be. Been trying to feel them up all week, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

Saturday the week before at lunch when he’d spilled water over chest and tried to clean her up. Sam’s friendly hug that became a bit less friendly when his hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans. The movie night on Monday when Bucky’s hand caressed her thigh a little too close to her core. All of their touches began to make more sense, and her eyes filled with tears at the realization.

“Please,” she begged, tears blocking her vision, “I promise I won’t tell anyone, not even Pete, but please just go.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Steve asked. He grasped her chin roughly, his face close enough to hers so that she could feel his fiery breath on her lips. “We’re not leaving, sweetheart. You’re gonna let all three of us play with your pretty little body, and you’re gonna make the prettiest sounds for us, alright?”

Y/N shook her head violently, too afraid to make noise, but also bold enough to make one last attempt at freedom. The hand that held her chin quickly moved to slap her cheek, and she hated the way the sting made heat stir in her lower belly. She tried to shy away from their touch again, but Bucky’s face simply held the same smirk as he trailed his vibranium fingers up and down her leg.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, don’t act all shy now. Peter has been telling us how good you’ve been to him and don’t think he hasn’t told us about your little childhood crush on little ol’ me. Been wanting to fuck you ever since.” Bucky’s hand quickly left her body, instead moving to palm over the bulge in his pants. “Fuck, sweetheart, got me real hard just thinking ‘bout your pussy swallowing my cock. Bet you’re gonna be a sweet, obedient girl for me, right?”

Fire started to course through Y/N’s veins, and with all the power she tried to dampen it down with, it seemed to push through her body that much more dangerously. She despised the fact that she could feel herself growing wet for the three older men, but God, she had never felt the need to be filled up as badly as she did in that moment.

“You’re a bit of a slut, don’t you think?” Sam mocked. He kneeled on her right, his eyes fixated on her panty-clad pussy, a wet patch already forming on the soft satin. It really didn’t help that three of her teen celebrity crushes were eyeing her nearly naked body like a piece of meat. “I mean, look at you, already growing wet and needy for three cocks. Is that what you want, honey? Parker not treating you good enough?”

She hesitated. Goosebumps rose across her skin at the sinister tone of his voice, like he already knew it was true. And it was true and she hated that Sam was right, but as amazing as Peter was a boyfriend, it was clear from the vibrator hiding in his apartment’s bathroom that he was not amazing in the sheets. Every time, she held hope that it would be better, that she would finally get to stop faking an orgasm before he rolled out of the bed with a filled up condom, but she knew deep down inside of her that it wasn’t happening anytime soon. Y/N forced herself to nod weakly at Sam’s questions, and Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you poor dolly, we’re gonna have so much fun with you. Treat you better than that little boy ever could.”

All it took was a whimper, a nearly audible, deadly silent whimper that managed to squeak its way past Y/N’s throat, and the three men took it as permission to ravage her body however they pleased.

Steve made quick work of his pants as Sam lifted her chin to kiss him, his tongue hot and heavy against her mouth, coaxing her lips open. The sound of belt buckles hitting the floor shamefully turned on Y/N even more. Panic coursed through her senses, her mind wanting to scream for them to stop, but her body knew her too well as she felt a wave of slick run down her thighs. Cold metal digits slipped under the waistband of her panties, moving to her wet folds, and she whimpered into Sam’s mouth at the touch.

“You look so nice, baby, so pretty all laid out for us like this.” Bucky’s hands pulled down her panties as Steve pinched her peaked nipple through the lace, laying lavish, open-mouthed kisses down her torso. The cool air hit her pussy when Bucky’s hands pulled her legs wide open, fully exposed to the three men ready to use her against her will. “Knew you’d be so wet for us, sweetheart, just look at you. Dripping all for your daddies,” Steve murmured against her skin.

Hot breath fanned over her cunt before they rolled her over on her stomach, someone’s hands forcing her up onto her knees with her face smashed into the cotton pillows. She could feel two rough human hands pulling her ass cheeks apart, spreading her ever wider for their view. “Would you look at that, boys, look how fucking hot she is for us.”

Sam’s thick finger ran through her folds, the calloused pad of his finger just teasing her clit before landing a harsh smack to the inside of her thigh. Her moan was muffled through the mattress and she prayed they wouldn’t hear how being treated like whore made her wet like nothing else.

Hot slick dripped down her thighs, a pool of it staining the pristine sheets by each knee. It was quite a sight, Steve, kneeled by the bed as his face hovered next to her ear, whispering filthy things into her ear as Bucky stroked his hard, leaking cock right next to him. Sam’s lips were making their way up the inside of her right thigh, cracked skin gliding across her sticky flesh. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you smell so good. Bet you taste even better, don’t you, little girl?”

His tongue reached the apex of her thighs, finally licking a stipe up her center with no warning. Y/N sobbed into the comforter below her, mascara stained tears marking up her face. Two fingers edged their way between the bed and her face, forcing her head upwards and arching her back. Steve’s face was caught in a dirty smirk above hers, lip pulled taut between his teeth, until he saw the tears trailing down her face. “Oh, sweetheart, you look so desperate like this.” His fingers traced her smeared lip gloss around her lips, before opening her lips harshly. “Open up, you dumb baby.”

Y/N forced her jaw open wider, just enough to watch a string of Steve’s saliva drip into her mouth. The thick spit pooled on her tongue and she tried hard not to grimace in front of him, in hopes that he wouldn’t make her-

“Swallow it, sweetheart.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes, how her lower lip trembled at his words, but he just laughed at her. “Now.”

The warm saliva slid down her tongue and more black tears ran down her face as she obliged his orders, finally gulping it and cringing at the taste. Steve loved the way her face screwed up in displeasure, how she still had the audacity to pretend she hated what they were doing though she was moaning and whimpering with Sam’s tongue attacking her entrance.

“What do you want, sweetheart? We might give it to you as long as you use your words.” Bucky taunted lightly.

Y/N stared up at the brunette, staring menacingly down at her with his cock in hand. “Please,” she whimpered.

The three found it woeful, the way she could barely get a full sentence out as Sam went to town with his skilled tongue, but even with that onslaught, a simple please wasn’t enough for them.

“Please what, honey,” Sam moaned from between her legs, “you gotta use your big words or we’ll never know what you want from us.”

Steve and Bucky nodded in fake-agreement even though they all knew exactly what she wanted and where.

“I don’t-” her widened eyes glanced into Steve’s, blown-out and teary. “I don’t want anything, not from you.” She lied through her teeth harshly.

Sam removed his head from between her thighs and Y/N immediately whined at the loss of contact almost hilariously. “You don’t want anything, little girl?”

The air felt static, every hair on her neck rising in the pressured silence. The angel and the devil clawed at her heart, each trying to show her what was right. And she wanted to sin, God knew that she would love nothing more than to let that little greedy part of her take over, but she’d already cheated on Peter and that damn good part of her conscience stole the wheels of her brain.

Slowly and shamefully, she shook her head, though the downright dirty monster inside of her wanted the men to ignore her words and keep assaulting her body.

“That’s a shame, baby, I thought we were having fun.” Sam sighed. He met Bucky’s gaze on the side, and though they seemed to be in resignation with her wishes, their eyes twinkled devilishly. He positioned his body over Y/N’s kneeled over form, his bare chest glued to her sweating back as his hands ran up the sides of her ribcage and to her front, just barely grazing over her sensitive nipples. “You mean, you don’t want me to touch you here?”

He pinched the darkened buds and she had to use every ounce of self-restraint to not collapse at the sensation. His calloused hands moved back even further, tracing down to the stretch of skin just above her mound, swiping a finger across the skin delicately. “How about here? Or even,” he brought three fingers around her body, over her ass, and into her glistening cunt again, just rubbing along her entrance, not daring to go further in. Y/N couldn’t hold in her reaction to his prodding anymore, his teasing chipping away all of her dignity and pride in a few simple touches.

“Yes, please, please, use your fingers,” she blurted against her will. Where shame should have washed over her, there was only lust, raging red and coursing through her body so forcefully that she felt braindead. “Put your fingers in me, daddy, please.”

The pet name rolled off of her tongue so easily and she was barely ashamed of how it made her feel. The name especially shocked the three men, who smiled even wider with their cocks harder than before at the little slip up. “That was all you had to say, dolly, gonna have your daddies make you feel real good,” Bucky laughed.

Sam finally plunged his thick fingers knuckle-deep into her cunt as Steve’s mouth captured hers, effectively swallowing her scream with ferocity. The long digits scissored and swirled inside of her, pressing against new unexplored areas that she’d never even gotten to with her own fingers. White dots danced along the front line of her vision as teeth clashed against hers and though it’d been mere minutes she already knew she was close and the men did as well.

“I can feel you clamping around my fingers, honey,” Sam taunted. His lips were moving sinfully around her ass, planting sloppy kisses and drooling all over her skin while he fingered her deep. “Are you gonna come soon, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, I’m so- fuck,” Y/N panted into Steve’s mouth, “m’ so c-close.” The blond bit her tongue hard enough for her to taste blood and she yelped as she heard Sam and Bucky laugh.

“Watch your language, dolly,” Bucky sneered from the side of the bed. His hand was rapidly moving around his cock, corkscrew motions edging him towards the brink of pleasure.

“Little girls like you don’t get to use big swear words,” Sam’s face was still buried between her legs, his soaked fingers pulling out of her cunt only to rub at her little pearl of nerves in circles. His tongue still lapped at her dripping entrance and he could feel her tight hole start to pulse as her breathing picked up. “Oh, baby, you’re getting close, aren’t you?”

Y/N was hesitant to answer at first, the sweat on her body seeming to cool immediately in fear of what would happen if she messed up. But after five seconds Steve stopped kissing her, gripping her chin and staring into her eyes deeply. He looked as debauched as she felt, with his rosy lips swollen with spit and cheeks tinged with pink. “Are you gonna answer daddy, sweetheart?”

That knocked her into shape real fast.

“Yes, daddy, I’m so close. P-please let me come,” she whimpered. The whine in her voice pleased the two men, and Steve went back to exploring her mouth before she felt something poking against her asshole.

“Gonna let daddy put his cock in you, little girl?” Sam asked gently. His words had panic coursing through her system, a chilling realization like water being poured on her head and she began to wiggle around, trying to free Sam’s hand from her hip. Her arms weakly pushed at Steve’s chest, trying to push him as far away as he could, but the men only laughed at her flailing limbs. Y/N wanted to scream no to them, and despite her contrasting love-hate relationship with Sam’s fingers inside her cunt she knew it was time to go. It was laughable how much she would continue to say that to herself for the rest of the night.

But Sam managed to sense her panic, knowing exactly what the issue was before harshly spanking her and effectively stopping her struggle. “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t come inside of you. I’m not risking knocking up a whore with my kids, I’ve got more dignity than that.”

He led the leaking tip of his dick down her crack, rubbing it along her slick entrance before pushing in with a groan. “Oh my fucking God, that is so hot.” Bucky admonished from the side. “Gotta get in on that soon.”

Steve chuckled against Y/N’s lips, pulling away with a strand of saliva connecting them. He adjusted himself up so his dick was centimeters from her face, a knee propped up on the bed for balance. “Gotta wait your turn, Buck, we all want a piece of her.” He noticed the way Y/N’s eyes were transfixed on his cock, the red mushroom head smeared with precome along the slit, nearly purplish veins standing out prominently on his shaft. Yeah, he couldn’t even deny that he was big because he already knew how many girls had dropped down on their knees for him. “Go ahead, sweetheart, open up those pretty lips for me.”

Almost too excitedly, she dropped her jaw, allowing him to slide his cock into the silky warmth of her mouth. As his hips started to thrust into her mouth, Sam’s started to do the same into her cunt. Both men moaned in tandem with their movements as Y/N’s worries faded away to the back of her mind as they stuffed her to the brim.

“You can come now, baby,” Sam nearly ordered, “go and cream on daddy’s cock- fuck, I know you’ve been waiting.”

It was a harsh bump of his head against her G-spot that sent her over the edge, walls clamping down with ferocity and milking him for all she was worth. Y/N reeled in the sunlight infested warmth that coursed through her body as she finally let go, whining around Steve’s dick as he continued to abuse her throat with long, deep thrusts.

Bucky was still holding his orgasm off, fondling with his tight, heavy sac while his dick remained a painfully hard mess, glistening with precome. “I’m so glad I got to see you come, dolly, look so fucking pretty when you do.”

She couldn’t deny the little skip of her heart at the praise, just a few simple words that made her feel like a good little girl. But no, God-fucking no, she wasn’t supposed to let them make her feel this way. Guilt washed away that warmth in her chest just as quickly, knowing that her boyfriend was just waiting to come back to see her, finishing up his studies so that they could live their lives out together after college while she was getting her pussy and mouth absolutely wrecked by his co-workers.

As soon as Y/N got her brain thinking straight again, Sam started moving inside of her again and she garbled out a strangled cry. “If you thought we were done here, baby,” Sam laughed, “you’ve got a lot left ahead of you.”

“We’re not leaving until all of us have come, brat.” Steve’s palm gripped the back of her skull roughly, pushing her head so far down on his dick that her nose was squished against his abdomen. “Greedy little bitch.”

Both men started to thrust into her again, and just like that she was back to being absolutely lost in desire and lust like the bitch in heat she was until there was a sudden shift in the air. So much that the sweat on her body began to cool her skin, Sam’s hands still gripping her hips so tightly she knew they’d leave marks that she would have to hide when she wore her favorite low-cut shorts.

Bucky’s eyes seemed to drift from her tits moving with each movement of her hips, checking behind the door as if there were something lurking there, but she was too afraid to see for herself. If she stopped she would get spanked, and they’d probably prolong her second orgasm even further, and her pussy couldn’t handle any more subtle teasing.

“Hey there, Parker, why don’t come on out here?”

But that, that was what made the hairs on Y/N’s neck rose, dread filling her to the fullest as she realized the implications of Sam’s words.

Peter had seen everything. Peter, her boyfriend, had seen three of his co-workers, three men who she barely knew, fuck her deep into his mattress. Peter, her boyfriend, had watched her get fucked into his mattress, without trying to stop them whatsoever.

She couldn’t tell if it was the guilt of cheating on her boyfriend or the freezing realization that he hadn’t done anything to stop the three men that hurt more.

Yet Peter still walked from behind the door, dressed in a NYU hoodie and a pair of khakis slung low on his hips, just drawing attention to the sizable bulge that stretched out his zipper. His umber eyes, normally full of so much joy and love, were possessed by the same lust and darkness as the three men, as much as he tried to hide it behind a shyer facade.

His eyes were trained on the tightness of how Y/N’s pussy was gripping Sam, her lips glossed over with come and spit wrapped around Steve’s dick. The girl stopped in her movements, her eyes no longer full of tears for just being gagged, but as soon as her mouth came to a halt around the base of his cock, the blond slapped her across the face. A sharp crack echoed around the room and though she couldn’t see him, she heard Bucky’s feral growl of pleasure at the whorish treatment she was receiving.

“Didn’t say you could fucking stop, sweetheart, keep working on daddy’s cock.” No more words needed to be said as Steve gripped her hair once more, forcing himself farther back into her throat to the point where she couldn’t breathe. Sam’s thrusts were quickening, closer and closer to release as the sounds of the girl struggling to breath made his balls tighten.

“Fucking shit, baby, you feel yourself squeezing my dick? I bet you like teasing daddy like that, don’t you?” One of his hands were brought down on her ass in a quick smack that resonated with Bucky, who was staving off his orgasm for something much sweeter than his hand. She was moaning raucously around the dick stuffed in her mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up every nerve in Steve’s body as he came with the tip of his dick nearly being swallowed by Y/N’s throat. There was barely any time for her to fully down the thick come in her mouth before Sam was threatening to orgasm. “I’m gonna come so soon but you better fucking not, little girl, you hear me? Gotta let your daddy come before you, you ungrateful little bitch- oh.”

It was a really fucking close call, Sam’s dick pulling out of her with one quick movement before spilling pearly ropes of come onto Y/N’s spine. A high whine escaped her mouth, clit throbbing as she was so, so close to coming, and she was too far into her crazed pleasure to realize that she was letting three older men, men who fought to defend the universe from evil, use her as an over-glorified fleshlight.

She couldn’t really blame them for calling her a cockdrunk whore.

Bucky sauntered over to the bed, eyes trained on the pool of come centered around the base of her spine before flipping her over onto her back with his large hands and shoving three vibranium fingers back into her hole. She gasped and held onto his forearm as he continued to fingerfuck her to her second orgasm, eyes screwed shut in a delirious haze of contentment for being filled with at least something again.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, please-” Steve slapped her along the face, correcting her words immediately. “Daddy, daddy, please let me come.”

Bucky chuckled, tweaking one of her nipples with his flesh hand as he hovered over her face. “I don’t know, dolly, you’ve been a little naughty, callin’ me the wrong name, not listening to Stevie’s orders- don’t think you deserve to get what you want.”

A muffled whimper escaped her swollen lips, and he sighed in surrender. “Okay, dollface, go ahead and come on my fingers. Let me see how you wet ‘em up real good.”

Y/N’s hips bucked into his metal digits with finality, come leaking out of her cunt and soaking the sheets below her. Her sweat-glazed skin shone even against the darkening sky, and all Bucky could do was chuckle at how her chest rose quickly as she tried to catch her breath. He thought about teasing her clit again, just circling around the little bud of nerves to get a rise out of her, but he decided against it. Sam probably had better plans for her anyway.

On the other hand, Y/N’s orgasm was starting to wear off as she noticed the hardened stare from the edge of the room. Her boyfriend.

“Peter, I…” Y/N made eye contact with him, suddenly noticing how mousy he looked in his own bedroom.

“I nearly forgot you were here, Parker,” Sam smirked darkly. “Why don’t you come over here and fuck your little whore. I’m feeling a little generous today.”

Steve and Bucky nodded with the same infuriating smugness as Sam. The brunette boy opened his mouth to object to the degrading statement, but when he met his girlfriend’s eyes nothing needed to be said. There was no escaping this. Nothing he said mattered to the three older men, because really they had already gotten everything they wanted right in front of their disgusting, perverted eyes.

He unbuckled his belt, letting the weight of it drop his khakis to the floor. Maybe if he’d known he would be forced into join a fivesome later that night he’d have picked any other boxers but the Ducktales one, but no one seemed to say a word about them, rather focusing on what they were failing to conceal.

Peter’s cock had always been admirable to Y/N by its length and God, definitely its thickness. Curved upwards towards his abdomen with a vein running along the left side up to the bulbous head, it was definitely more than average. It was really just a shame he didn’t know how to use it well enough.

His shirt was pulled over his head just as quickly, and if Y/N knew any better she would say that he was excited to get to fuck her in front of the three men. He placed himself in between Y/N’s parted legs, standing in the same position as he had so many times before.

But when Y/N cried out in pain and pleasure as he slid into her, Peter knew that this time, it was different. This time three men, men that he used to trust with his life, stood on either side of him and his girlfriend and jerked their hands up and down their cocks as they watched her get fucked relentlessly. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t romantic, but he couldn’t really think when his thick cock was stuffed inside of her stimulated pussy, juices and come leaking out of her abused sex.

“Go faster, Parker,” Steve instructed, his face contorted in pure pleasure. The pace of Peter’s thrusts sped up, and he threw Y/N’s ankles over his shoulders, hitting deeper inside of her, with the sound of her sobs only turning them all on more. “Oh, right there, shit, shit, shit-”

Steve came first, a low groan escaping his lips as streams of come landed on her tits, still bouncing with every movement of Peter’s hips.

“Open up,” Sam gritted through his teeth, and Y/N obediently opened her mouth to let his bitter come coat the inside of her throat, some of it landing on her face and neck. The string of curses he let out made Peter thrust even faster into her, and he hated, absolutely despised the way it turned him on to see the three men use his girlfriend to their pleasure. But soon enough a hand pushed against his chest away from Y/N and he reluctantly pulled out.

“Move aside, kid,” Bucky instructed, “Wanna come inside of her.”

As he lined his gigantic cock up with her entrance, her eyes widened with fear. “No, please, I didn’t take my pills, I can’t- I won’t, please not inside-”

“Shut the fuck up, you slut.” Bucky’s fingers came to slap her clit harshly, and she cried out in pain. “You’re gonna be quiet and let me come wherever I damn want, right?”

He punctuated his last word as he thrust inside her, filling her up to the hilt with his girth. She was too drunk on the feeling of her cunt being filled up to argue again. It was painful, extremely so, even though two different cocks had been inside her overstimulated pussy already and Bucky stretched her out wide, his cock thicker with veins to hit every pleasure point. With her legs tossed around his tapered torso, he slid out until his very tip was left in her, then slammed back in with a small moan. The head of his cock relentlessly pounded into her cervix in a nearly soundless tempo and all Y/N could hear were her own gasps of pleasure, jaw-dropping moans that made drool slide back down her throat in her laid down position.

She turned her head to the side, and though her vision was bleary through the tears, she could see Sam and Steve watching Bucky fuck her while Peter, her boyfriend, her sweet, sweet boyfriend, was caught up fucking his hand to the sound of Bucky’s balls slapping against her ass.

“Fuck, ‘m not gonna last much longer, dollface.” Bucky gasped. “You gonna come soon? You’re gonna come for daddy one more time. I think you’ve got a third one in you, you little fucking slut.”

“Shit, shit, daddy, please ‘m almost there,” Y/N wailed absentmindedly. A thumb came down to circle her clit quickly and she felt the coil in her stomach grow tighter and tighter, until she finally let out a high whine, finding her release as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside of her, ready to come just as easily as her. Her pussy clenched around his cock as she rode out her orgasm, fingers grasping at the sheets in order to find some sort of grounding. His come painted her walls white, and Bucky could’ve sworn there was no better feeling than feeling his blood warm in every vein as he finally let go. With stunted groans, his hips slowed its rhythm, lost in watching how his cock disappear into Y/N’s pussy, her slick juices coating his dick each time he pulled out.

“Ah, fuck, dolly, you did so good for me. Pussy tight as a fuckin’ vice.” Bucky hugged her limp body close to his sweaty chest, letting his dick soften inside of her for a good few moments before pulling out. He tossed Y/N back onto the bed below him, barely even caring to clean the come dripping down her ribcage and out of her cunt before grabbing his boxers from the cabinet next to the bed.

Steve was already buttoning his jeans up, checking the notifications on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. The blond seemed to have better things to do so soon after, rushing his way to the door before pausing where Y/N laid to watch come drip out of her pussy. One more time he pushed Bucky’s come inside of her abused entrance, watching as it oozed out from behind his digits. “Look at you, fucking full of of his come. Such a goddamn whore,” he muttered under his breath.

Those were the last words he said to her before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leading him out of the opened door.

Maybe Sam was a bit more kind, or affectionate at least. He was already dressed but visibly hard again beneath the thick denim of his pants, and he made sure Y/N knew it, taking her left hand and placing it over his dick. “You still got that effect on me, honey, even when you’re all fucked out like this.” He dragged his fingers through the thick ribbons of come that coated her chest, bringing them up to her mouth so she could taste. Even though she was more than exhausted, she wrapped her tongue around the two fingers that were pushed past her swollen lips, sucking them clean with a tired vengeance. Satisfied with her work, he kissed her chin one more time before leaving without so much as another word, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Click.

It ended exactly the way it started, the lock jostling into the doorknob just as easily as the high of Y/N’s final orgasm slipped away.

Stifling silence suffocated the room around them. Peter refused to meet her eyes, just as much as hers did his. She laid motionless on the bed with him standing at the foot, his dick soft and if she narrowed her bleary eyes just a bit, she could see how his knees were shaking. Neither of them were able to say anything, losing the ability to converse as soon as the three men left the room.

“Peter,” her voice was throaty after the rough fucking she took, “C-can you please get me a drink?”

The brown-haired boy looked down to meet her face, and she could finally see the reason that he had hid it from her. His eyes were red and bloodshot, snot running from his nose with tears running down his cheeks. She’d been so caught up in the after haze of the sex that she didn’t even notice how his bare chest was heaving so deeply, nearing hyperventalation.

But still, he grabbed his boxers, pulling them over his weakened legs clumsily. “Y-yeah, what kind do you want, Mr. Stark has a ton-”

“I don’t care.” She cut him off firmly, a sharp tone in her voice as she rolled over on her side. Y/N tucked her knees to her chin, fingers running over the side of her neck which was marked with bruises and scratches. “I don’t fucking care.”

Without another word Peter slipped out of the room quietly, knowing better than to try to talk to her about what they had been forced to participate in. It wasn’t as if there was much to say anyways.

Rain pattered against the window. It was only six o’clock in the evening. Cars honked and beeped and Natasha’s Igor Stavinsky record played for its fiftieth round of the day, and to anyone else in the tower it was a normal night. Normal, just like the ones spent sitting on the couch with Bucky’s hand creeping up her leg or Sam’s hands groping her ass, but this time they’d made a move.

The silence was far too much to handle, the unspoken truth of what she’d done with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Peter finally hitting her, knocking the air out of her lungs as she suddenly struggled to breathe. Gripping her face, clawing at it like a goddamn wolf, Y/N began to cry. Silently at first, gradually growing into heartbroken sobs, she let her trodden pride carry her voice wherever it wanted to go.

The men’s whispered words haunted her mere moments after they’d left the room, but most audibly she could hear a faint husk of a voice, Sam’s low moan in her ear looming in the dreadful silence of the room:

Thanks for sharing with us, baby.

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thevoidfishsminstrel · 3 years

Text

Lena let out an undignified squeak as she grabbed hold of the bookshelf beside her in an effort to not land on her face.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Lena turned, wiggling her foot back into her heels properly, before freezing, eyes widening at the caped figure now scrambling to her feet.

An array of books and magazines were spread out on the floor, presumably the culprit of her latest near death experience. It was as though National City’s newly revealed superhero had been sitting in between the bookshelves on the library floor… studying?

Lena clutched the cheesy romance novel she had been too busy reading to her chest as Supergirl looked at her in concern.

“Miss?”

Lena’s brain finally restarted and she cleared her throat, straightening her blazer. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Supergirl was wringing the edge of her cape in her fingers, looking far too nervous for someone who was suspected to be the strongest being on Earth by several sapphic blogs that Lena most definitely did not read.

“I’m fine.” She reached out to put a hand on Supergirl’s forearm in an impulse comfort gesture. “I promise.”

Supergirl seemed to relax slightly, some of the tension seeping from her shoulders. She held out a hand. “I’m Kara.”

Any tension that had left her immediately returned tenfold, eyes widening in panic as she froze.

Lena bit back a smile and took Kara’s hand, shaking it despite Kara’s lack of movement. “Lena. And don’t worry - your secret’s safe with me.”

Kara deflated, running a hand through her hair. “Alex is going to kill me.”

Lena laughed and patted Kara’s bicep (definitely the strongest being on Earth). “Maybe you should stop saying names now.”

Kara grimaced. “Oops.” She looked like she was about to say something else but stopped and looked at Lena again. “Wait… are you Lena Luthor?”

Lena straightened up, careful mask falling into place to try to hide the way her heart sped up and her throat constricted. “Yes.”

But before she could launch into her speech about how she was different from the rest of her family and only wanted to help, Kara lit up, crouching down to shuffle through her piles of literature until she came up with an issue of a science magazine from a few years ago.

“I just read your article about sustainable building and how we can introduce cost-effective eco-friendly measures to construction to reduce the damage done to the environment and promote a symbiotic relationship with nature.”

Lena blinked.

Kara almost poked herself in the eye before redirecting the movement to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I just thought it was really interesting. You’re probably tired of people asking you about your work.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “No I… I don’t mind.”

Kara smiled and Lena found her heart racing for an entirely different reason. She redirected her attention to the books scattered on the floor.

“So what’s National City’s resident superhero doing studying civil engineering, first aid and… veterinary science on the floor of the library?”

Kara blushed and knelt down to start scooping up all her things. “Sorry - I know I should have been at a desk I just got carried away.”

The pile of books was up to Kara’s eyebrows when she stood up and Lena laughed, taking the top third of them from her. “And I shouldn’t have been reading and walking. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Supergirl shrugged, toeing at the worn carpet with her red boots. “I’m new at the whole superhero thing. I don’t know where to freeze breath a building to hold it up or how to save someone who’s got water in their lungs from almost drowning. The other day I rescued a snake from a tree and tried to wrap it up in my cape to keep it warm and the owner told me ‘thanks, but reptiles are cold-blooded so they don’t warm up like that.’” She pouted at Lena. “The owner was a ten year old.”

Lena bit back a smile. “So you’re trying to learn how to be a better superhero?”

She shrugged and bit her lip. “I just don’t want to mess up.”

Lena considered her for a moment. “You know, I happen to have degrees in a few different kinds of engineering. And I made everyone at L-corp, including myself, take a first aid course when I took over.”

Kara looked as though she was trying to contain her hopeful expression. It wasn’t working very well, although that probably wasn’t surprising since her motto was ‘hope, help, and compassion for all.’

Kara bounced on her toes excitedly. “Would you help?”

Lena grinned and gestured to the left with her head. “Come on, I know which desk is the best in the library.”

———

It became somewhat of a routine after that. Every Saturday, Lena would go to the library as normal, pick out a new cheesy romance novel for the week and some kind of thick science book to hide it underneath, and then meet Supergirl in the back corner of the library, at the desk hidden behind the spare computers from the 90s where no one would find them.

Kara would normally already be there, pouring over texts and making notes in coloured pens and highlighters. Lena had bought her a rainbow of folders and dividers for each of the aspects of superheroing she was trying to improve in, and they had spent one very unproductive but fun day labelling and decorating them. They were now covered in random doodles, squiggly multicoloured patterns, and stickers that Kara had found in a rotating rack by the front desk, immediately claiming were essential for her learning.

During the week, Lena would keep an eye on any news of Supergirl, getting some strange looks from Jess when she walked into her office to see Lena cheering as Kara did something they’d worked on together. At the weekend she would listen to Kara excitedly retell those same events until the librarian came over to shush them. She seemed to be the only person in National city that wasn’t completely charmed by Supergirl, and it always led to half an hour of Kara pouting and asking Lena why the librarian didn’t like her.

It was a few weeks before Lena got there first. She frowned, checking the surrounding isles of books for any caped figures but they were all empty as usual.

She sat at their desk and opened up the book she had randomly grabbed off a shelf, putting her latest romance novel inside it to covertly read. It was called ‘Lost and Found: A Love Story’, the back of it claiming it was about a woman who ‘drops her scarf at a train station but ends up finding something much more meaningful in the woman she bumps into at the lost and found.’ It was exactly as awful as it sounded.

Kara bounded up to the table about 20 minutes later, a coffee cup in each hand and a satchel slung over her shoulder that made her cape bunch up awkwardly. She beamed at Lena and set a coffee down in front of her.

“Guess what I just did.”

Lena slammed the books shut inside each other, scrambling to put her arms over them and rest her chin in her hand casually. “What?”

Kara either didn’t notice or didn’t care, rounding the desk and putting her bag down on it with a grin. “I laservisioned the supports of a broken crane back together using some metal from a billboard and now it’s totally fine for use again.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “What happened to the crane in the first place?”

Kara’s cheeks heated and she looked away, rubbing the back of her neck as she mumbled, “I may have flown into it a little bit.”

She scowled at Lena as Lena started laughing but it was undermined by the way her lips tugged up.

“Oh!” Kara lit up and started rifling through her bag. “I brought you this.”

She held out a book with a bright smile. Lena’s eyes widened as she looked down at the cover of what was very clearly another cheesy romance.

“It’s my favourite love story. It’s a bit like the one you’re reading at the moment but better, in my opinion. I thought you might like it.”

“What?” Lena scoffed. “I wasn’t reading a romance. I was reading…” she glanced over to check what book she had picked up, internally filling with regret as she read the title, but she had already committed to the facade. “The rhyming dictionary.”

Kara was very clearly trying not to laugh. “Ok. Well I’ll just leave this one here. And in case you didn’t know,” she leaned closer to Lena’s ear as she climbed into her seat, and whispered, “I have x-ray vision.”

Lena blushed, refusing to look at Kara’s smug grin. She cleared her throat and moved her books off to the side, along with the one Kara had put down, as casually as possible, and attempted to change the subject.

“So you remembered about weight distribution in support structures?”

Kara paused in taking folders and notes out her bag to turn to Lena excitedly, rambling on about her save, gesturing wildly with her hands.

Lena picked up her coffee as she listened with a soft smile, absentmindedly taking a sip.

She frowned down at the cup. “Is this my usual?”

Kara paused in her rambling. “Yeah. Does it not taste right?”

Lena shook her head, staring back down at her perfect coffee, cheeks heating at the heart drawn in latte art that Kara probably didn’t even have anything to do with. “No I just… I didn’t know you knew my order.”

Kara grinned, raising an eyebrow (Lena should never have taught her how to do that). “Perhaps you’re not as elusive as you think, Lena Luthor.”

———

Lena arrived at the library one Saturday to find Supergirl staring at the front doors like she might set light to them any moment.

“What’s wrong Supergirl? Lose a fight with a door handle?”

Kara turned to her with a pout, pointing at a sign hanging on the other side of the glass. It read ‘Library closed until 23rd due to water damage. Apologies for the inconvenience.’

Lena sighed.

“Where am I going to get my books for this week, Lena? I’m never going to understand civil engineering without them.”

Lena bit the inside of her cheek, the rational part of her brain at war with the part that was helpless to the superhero’s pout. It had to be one of her superpowers because Lena would never admit she was actually soft.

She tore her gaze away, trying to seem casual. “I actually have some engineering textbooks at my apartment. I guess you could borrow them if you wanted.”

Lena squeaked as Supergirl crushed her in a bear hug, lifting her a few inches off the ground. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Lena laughed, trying to turn it inconspicuously into a cough when a passerby gave a slightly shocked and confused look at the sight of a Luthor and a Super laughing on the library steps. Kara dropped her back to her feet, stepping back with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I got excited.”

Lena shook her head with a smile. She turned to go but as she went to gesture for Kara to follow, her hand caught against Kara’s. Her brain misfired and decided in the split second where her index finger hooked onto Kara’s pinkie that the best course of action was to commit to it and simply hold hands. In an attempt to make it seem less affectionate and more practical, she walked off quickly, dragging Kara along in the direction of her apartment.

She could feel Kara’s smile like rays of sun behind her. At least her hair was down to cover up the heat that was creeping up the back of her neck.

Her apartment was only a few minutes from the library. She had to slap Kara’s hand away from the elevator buttons before she pressed them all, marveling at how many floors there were.

“So this is where you live?” Kara looked around the hallway, panicking when she snapped a leaf off of a decorative plant, while Lena unlocked the penthouse door.

Lena pretended not to see her discreetly dropping the leaf into the plant pot but raised an eyebrow at her. “No, Supergirl. I just decided we should come and stare at this random person’s door.”

Kara ignored her, walking past into her apartment and looking down at the city below through the large floor to ceiling windows. “Nice view. I should take you flying sometime - it’s even better from up in the clouds, especially at night.”

Lena closed the front door, trying not to think about romantic flights and being cradled in strong arms. “I’ll go get the textbooks.”

She moved towards her home office, Kara trailing behind in interest. The engineering textbooks were over in the left corner and she scanned the alphabetised section for the ones she wanted.

Kara ran her fingers over the spines of books until Lena was done. She smirked at Lena, letting her hand trail teasingly down the bookshelf before she left. Lena blushed as she realised why. Kara had found her fiction section, over half the books in which were very clearly a certain genre.

Lena groaned and followed her out.

They spent the entire afternoon on the floor around Lena’s coffee table, going through the textbooks, laughing over Kara’s constant puns, and eating the seemingly endless supply of snacks Kara produced from her bag. It wasn’t until the sun had started to set that Lena realised how long they’d spent simply telling jokes and stories.

It was alarmingly easy to just be around Kara. Strangely, Lena didn’t think she minded.

———

Lena frowned as someone knocked on her door. It was a Saturday morning and she was just about to leave to meet Supergirl at the library.

She only grew more confused as she opened the door to see a fluffy white cloud panting happily at her and squirming in her direction. A head poked out from behind it, looking just as happy.

“Lena, hi! Sorry to just turn up but the mean librarian lady threw me out because apparently you aren’t allowed to play fetch in the library.”

Lena stared at the woman currently holding a large puppy in front of her, familiar blonde curls pinned back and glasses slipping down her nose. “…Kara?”

Kara blinked at her for a moment before she seemed to realise. “Oh! Right. Sorry - this is what I look like normally. When I’m not being Supergirl I mean. Alex said I wasn’t allowed to wear the suit all the time because it had to be washed.”

Lena nodded slowly, trying to reconcile the image of this Kara with Supergirl and to not think too hard about the implications of Kara being comfortable enough around her to show her her civilian identity. “Right. Why do you have a dog?”

Kara lit up. “I saved an animal shelter from a fire and they let me adopt this guy. Isn’t he adorable?”

Lena looked at the matching faces of excitement. “Very cute. But why is he here?”

Kara shrugged. “Well I couldn’t leave him after I’d just adopted him so I thought he could join us for our study session?”

Lena crossed her arms and Kara pouted. It was somewhat undermined by the puppy licking her face and making her giggle but Lena was still helpless to resist.

“Ok but he better not mess up any of my stuff.”

“Yes!” Kara grinned, wiggling the puppy excitedly, his ears flopping about.

Kara kissed her cheek on her way into the apartment and Lena’s heart skipped a beat. The puppy licked her in an attempt to join in but even that didn’t stop the way her heart raced.

They settled on the couch, facing each other as Lena quizzed Kara with flashcards. The puppy alternated between curling up in Kara’s lap and zooming around Lena’s living room, falling over his own paws.

“Ok, last one. How do you treat a sprain?”

“Ice it with my freezebreath, wrap it so it’s compressed but not cutting off circulation, keep it elevated.”

Lena grinned proudly. “That’s it! Done.”

Kara threw her hands in the air in delight, squealing as she propelled herself forwards to tackle Lena to the couch. She pulled back just as quickly, pushing up to brace herself over Lena.

“Sorry. I got excited.”

All the breath had deserted Lena’s lungs and she stared up at Kara. A light flush rose on Kara’s cheeks, pale pink against the deep blue of her eyes, bringing out the freckles that dusted her skin.

The flashcards slipped from Lena’s grasp as she surged up to meet Kara’s lips. Kara’s arms almost buckled but she caught herself. And then she was kissing back.

Lena’s hands slid up Kara’s back, practically pulling Kara down on top of her.

They were both breathing hard when they pulled apart, eyes closed and foreheads rested together.

Kara was smiling softly down at her when she finally opened her eyes. She had shifted to hold herself up on one hand and one elbow, her free hand gently stroking back Lena’s hair.

She looked like she was about to say something when she did a double take over the armrest of the couch behind Lena and her soft look turned into a wince. “What was it you said about the puppy not messing up any of your stuff?”

#supercorp #you can thank AYeti for not having to read my terrible run on sentences #a ‘lotl writing

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thrndlngs · 3 years

Note

hey rose! (can i call you that?? sorry if that's not your preference) i may or may not have caught a case of crazy phat mad feelings for a boy and i was wondering if you had any cute headcanons about some of the MHA boys pining for a pretty fem reader?? i can't imagine this guy liking me back but i figure hey, if nobody got me ik pretty superhero boys got me AMEN lmbo no pressure on this request. hope you're doing well and things are okay in your world!! thanks love you!! first anon OUT 😌✌️✨💖

omg ya that’s totally cool!! i actually like that!!!! but omg, pls! i’m sure it’ll work out if not... hopefully these headcanons will help u out!!! LOVE U FIRST ANON!!!!!!!!

IZUKU MIDORIYA,

will definitely stare at the back of your head during class and imagine 700 different scenarios that could ‘possibly’ happen if the two of you ever have a conversation that doesn’t involve school.

keeps note of your quirks and tries to give you pointers on how to use ur quirk via crumpled paper airplanes in the courtyard or slipped into ur locker.

will always, always, always keep an eye out for you to make sure you’re okay - if he sees you crying he’s gonna embarrass himself and be like, “you think that’s bad? kachan almost blew me to bits.” and now the both of you are crying.

daydreams about u.

whenever the class is training at the USJ or anywhere really, he’s bouncing. like. literally bouncing on his heels in case something goes wrong, he wants to be able to intervene. not because he thinks you’re not capable of fending for urself but it’s because he literally can not bare the thought of u getting hurt.

he definitely draws ur names with a heart and arrow through it!!!!!!!

really admires u and tries to be really nonchalant about how fond he’s become of u so when the two of you do have a conversation it’s just like... gibberish. you know when he goes on those little rants and the words cloud around him and everyone is like??? midoriya wtf. yeah like that.

BAKUGOU KATSUKI,

explosive boy definitely doesn’t know he likes you until he goes to recovery girl and recovery girl has to explain him the ‘weird’ feeling in his stomach, the rise of temperature in his face and the quickening of his pulse is literally because he has a crush. on you.

and boy does this raging blonde flip his shit. him?? have a crush??? when he’s trying to be number one hero??? a distraction??? not in this lobby.

easier said than done.

tries to avoid you at all costs. like even moves his seat permanently so he doesn’t have to breathe the same air as you.

no because during a training the two of you are teamed up and this man literally holds his breath like he’s five because he doesn’t want to inhale your ‘germs’. but he grows up a bit and realizes that you’re actually pretty strong and can handle your own. heavy emphasis on the pretty.

so not only is he pinning for you but now he sees you as competition. so the initial plan to avoid you goes out of the window because he wants to one up you.

bakugou’s face is tomato red everytime the two of you spar and you think it’s because he’s mad but jokes on u.

takes a HOT minute but he’ll suffer in silence and just y’know open the door and wait five minutes for you to walk through it and then complain after.

sees you in the hallway and flicks you in the forehead and reminds you that he’s going to be number one. but later beats himself up because wtf? why didn’t he say something else.

will go out of his way to fix your fighting stances and then have a coughing fit. so he’s going to push through his feelings but it’s really obvious to everyone else that he isn’t being lowkey, yknow?

IIDA TENYA,

my favorite class rep. he’s going to be so obvious about it. like. he’s an open book.

will offer to help you study. makes sure your chair is pulled out every morning so you don’t have to do it.

will also let you board the bus first.

will also tense up whenever you look at him. holds an emergency class meeting (excluding you) to figure out how to handle this ‘situation’ and everyone is like... dude

he takes kirishima’s ‘show her you’re a manly man’ to serious and tries to show off. with his grades, quirk and his class rep status which you know isn’t working so he’s back to square one.

as bad as it sounds he makes a copy of all of his notes and color codes them based off of his you know ‘coding’ system and has it handy in case you don’t come to class one day or fall behind.

everyone knows but you. everyone also thinks that you would’ve found out by now since iida holds you on your own pedestal but! LOLKDSAJ

DENKI KAMINARI,

okay so.... this man... is so drama. he’s a clutz and obvious but he isn’t going to be direct. whether it’s because he’s scared of being rejected or because he’s not confident enough like bakugou and todoroki is unknown but anywayz

leans on the locker and tries to woo you with some words and falls. literally falls over. it’s okay though (in his eyes) because you immediately get eye level with him and try to check on him. it’s a win in his eyes.

is totally okay with the nickname ‘calamari’ but only likes it when you call him that. he tries to tell everyone that it’s a ‘you and him’ thing and gets teased abt it.

tries to include you in every conversation possible. he wants you to feel included in everything.

thinks ur like a walking goddess and that u should be treated as such.

he gets a little to excited around you so whenever the two of you touch he gives off some electricity and immediately goes on a thirty minute rant on how sorry he is.

makes you... a fucking... mixtape... with scribbled out hearts on the cover.

also... sends you songs to listen to but it’ll be like some random edm song and ur like”oh wow... love that...” and he’s like “ok cross that out she doesn’t like EDM.” and is DETERMINED to find out your favorite genre so the two of you have something to bond over.

changes your ringtone on his phone to the pokemon theme song because and i quote, “she’s the ash to my pikachu.”

isn’t so lowkey about his crush but??? everyone thinks he’s like?? just being himself?? so???

EIJIRO KIRISHIMA,

bro. this man... THIS LOVELY SHARK BOY.

is literally textbook definition of GENTLEMAN.

will not act on his feelings until YOU act on them because he’s scared he’ll overstep so he’s going to be like..... suffering in silence. but he doesn’t mind!!!!!!

holds the door 4 u. :)

checks on u 24/7.

stares at you in class and drools.

walks with you like everywhere. literally. like to class, to the dorms, back to ur parents, to the mall. everywhere.

this is totally a best friend to lovers trope.

whenever he’s got doubt he will turn to u immediately because he trusts u and ur guidance.

will even ask if u could spar with him (so you can a, spend time with him but b, because he wants u to be able to be the best version of urself u can be).

whenever something goes south he will put his hand out in front of u. always. and you’ll wrap your fingers around his bicep and he will melt.

i think he knows he’s like... fucked because you explain to him that although his ‘hardening’ quirk makes his skin... rough, he’s still pretty soft. and smells nice.

man... that gets him THROUGH THE DAYS.

TODOROKI SHOTO,

another clueless boy.

is very confused at first but after some hours of research he’s like oh.

and then shit hits the fan.

like kirishima, really values your input and actually goes to you for advice for two reasons: one because you’re sensible and honest but it’s more for the simple reason that he’s trying to see what you like and don’t like.

you start to notice some changes in his behavior. not drastic ones but enough to raise an eyebrow.

is more vocal in his conversations with you.

tries his best to improve his body language (ie: will face you with undivided attention and arms unfolded to look more receptive)

just stares at you in general to see what your reactions to things are.

like, in the hallway when ur talking to mina and the lowerclassmen says something stupid and the two of you scowl? well, guess what? now he doesn’t like that guy either and will give him a piece of his mind.

has your coffee order memorized so when ur staying up all night studying u have the energy to do so.

will sneak a protein bar and a water bottle in ur locker the day after those binge studying sessions to ensure that you’re you know okay.

#todoroki x female reader #todoroki headcanons #todoroki x fem!reader #kirishima x female reader #kirishima x fem!reader #kirishima headcanons #kaminari x fem!reader #kaminari x female reader #kaminari headcanons #tenya x fem!reader #tenya x female reader #tenya headcanons #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x female reader #bakugou headcanons #deku x fem!reader #deku x female reader #deku headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #( i really don't feel like i did this well buT I HOPE U LIKE IT FIRST ANON!!!!!!!#I LOVE U!!!!!!#if it's not what u want let me know and i'll redo!!!! )#: ̗̀➛ first anon.#( shoto todoroki ) / * headcanons .#( eijiro kirishima ) / * headcanons .#( denki kaminari ) / * headcanons .#( tenya iida ) / * headcanons .#( katsuki bakugou ) / * headcanons .#( izuku midoriya ) / * headcanons .

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wintermelonbear · 3 years

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Artistry

Pairing: Damian Al-Ghul Wayne/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Trope/s: Childhood Friends, No Powers AU

Summary: A story in which two seemingly dissimilar eight-year-olds build bonds through their love for martial arts. Written for the MGI Trope Tussle 2021.

Words: 4808

Damian and Marinette first met when they were 8 at his mother’s Wushu studio. At first glance they were an unlikely duo, before meeting in martial arts class their social circles ran entirely parallel with one another with Damian attending a private school that was a feeder for Gotham academy and Marinette attending a public elementary local to her, but they truly brought out the best in each other.

Damian had grown up inside his mother’s studio, working day in and day out from the tender age of 3 to improve his weaponry and martial arts skill. His mother and father, divorced but trying their best to co-parent for his sake, each preached to him about the importance of self-discipline and concentration. When his mother and her father, Ras himself a master martial artist, had competed in Wushu they were national champions. As a third-generation practitioner of Wushu, Damian had a lot riding on his shoulders.

Marinette’s mother had practiced Wushu as a child in China. When she first arrived in France she found herself disappointed that there were no local Chinese martial arts centers, let alone Wushu training centers. Sabine always thought it would be a passion she could pass down to her future child, but there was only so much she could teach on her own. However, as fate would have it, after a falling out with Tom’s father Roland the Dupain-Chengs found themselves in a city not too far from Gotham, New Jersey. Sabine was pleasantly surprised to find that the martial arts scene was much more alive there than it had been in Paris. However, between the bakery and her young daughter Sabine had little time to spend practicing martial arts. It wasn’t until Marinette’s kindergarten teacher suggested that Marinette be enrolled in a sport to better her hand-eye coordination that Sabine finally put her daughter into formal martial arts courses.

At first, everything was fine until it became apparent that Marinette was progressing much faster than her peers, despite her typical clumsiness she was surprisingly adept at martial arts. Sabine wasn’t entirely surprised as while Wushu was difficult to teach within the confined space they had at home, she still took the time to practice Tai Chi with her daughter on the weekends, providing Marinette with martial arts fundamentals and self-discipline. With Marinette’s slight inclination for martial arts paired with her hard work she was outperforming her classmates and even some of the older kids at the studio she went to. Eventually, Marinette found herself ostracized by her peers, but her teachers at the studio refused to advance her because they had an in-house rule where children could not be advanced more than two years past their age group. Tom and Sabine knew that pulling Marinette out of the sport entirely was off the table, the pure joy that spread across her face every time she mastered a new trick was proof enough that she was in love with the sport. So they set off to find a new studio to train at, where Marinette’s needs as a budding martial artist would be met. After looking around for a while, they decided to give Talia’s Wushu academy a try despite it being a little over a 30-minute drive from their house.

In regards to the first year of their friendship, Marinette would describe it as very professional, and almost nothing more. It took a while for Damian to become more cordial with her. When asked, Marinette would say “Damian didn’t like me, but he tolerated me enough as a partner because there was only so much practice he could have done alone.”

At first, Damian did not like Marinette at all, in fact, maybe he even hated her. When he first met her, Damian thought she was like every other “talented” kid that came into his mother’s studio, only to realize talent alone would get you nowhere in the sport of Wushu. On her first day, she immediately took up the spot next to him at the front and center of the class and offered him a warm smile, “Hello my name is Marinette, I’m new here.” Damian returned her greeting with a harsh tut of his tongue and the turn of his head, he was there to train, not to make friends. Marinette’s expression was aghast, but she quickly recovered and mumbled a soft “okay not talkative then…this is going great….” Damian suppressed an eye roll, simply because he knew his mother would not tolerate that in her classroom.

Against every one of Damian’s expectations, Marinette proved herself to be a hard-working individual. Eventually, after seeing her work on her technique and tricks after class during open gym hours, seeing that she wasn’t relying purely on natural ability and truly was putting in the effort to become a better martial artist, he began to tolerate her. The first time he returned her daily “Hello” with the nod of his head Marinette’s facial expression went from neutral to shocked to absolutely beaming. Damian simply raised his eyebrow and continued with his pre-class warmup.

Over time Marinette had grown a deep respect for Damian; she wished he was a bit friendlier, but despite their rough start Marinette realized early on that, while gruff and unfriendly, Damian was kind in his own way. He always pointed out when someone’s technique was wrong so that they wouldn’t hurt themselves, he always helped bandage someone up when they were hurt, and he always stayed after class to help his mom clean up. Most people would think he did it out of obligation or his mother’s demands, but Marinette loves people watching, and even after just a few months Marinette has observed that Talia would rather Damian use the time to better himself and will insist that she, or one of their workers, handle the menial tasks.

It was not until Damian saw Marinette work through her struggles that he gained respect for her. While Wushu is a largely performative sport where everyone’s moves are choreographed, Talia wanted to ensure everyone was also learning basic self-defense resulting in regularly held sparring sessions at the end of class. Marinette was a great performer, she was highly expressive and could easily recall choreography, but she had minimal exposure to actual sparring and her reflexes were not as sharp and trained like the others. She managed to win against her opponents in the first few classes by utilizing her creativity, but eventually, her lack of experience caught up with her and in her third month at the studio, she began her losing streak. Looking at her lose to her opponents time and time again he couldn’t help but wonder to himself, “will you still be here tomorrow?” Growing up in the studio, Damian knew that most of the people who were considered to be “gifted” had a tendency to drop out the moment things no longer came naturally to them, they grew frustrated with themselves and then with the sport. At this point, he figured he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Instead, the stage was set for her to become the most prevalent figure in his life.

Despite being in the same classes for over 3 months Damian and Marinette had never sparred. It was actually quite odd that they hadn’t yet sparred, the pairings for the most part were random. Talia reasoned that with the right circumstances even someone who seems weak could win; it was important to never underestimate an opponent and lower your guard. After bowing to one another their eyes met. If you asked them as adults they would unabashedly say that they love the other’s eyes, it was like staring at the calm before a storm. Their eyes were clear, fierce, and piercing. Despite being clearly disadvantaged Marinette showed no fear. She met his first few strikes blow for blow and even managed to evade a few of his strikes with a few unique tumbling passes – something Damian noted that she excelled in. He could tell she has been studying him, observing his strike patterns from his previous matches. Rather than reacting to his strikes, she was anticipating them – a smart move considering her reflexes were lacking. Unfortunately for Marinette, this meant that one unanticipated fake was all it took to defeat her.

That night during open gym hours Marinette approached Damian on her own for the first time. “There is only so much I can practice on my own, please train with me.”

“Why would I do that?” Damian held his face firm, his mouth in a thin line and his eyebrow slightly quirked.

Marinette’s eyes steeled over with conviction. “Did you know that every time you get up from xie bu you duck your chin down in your struggle to regain balance? It’s obvious you’re trying to shift your center of gravity. Instead, try leaning on your front leg from the beginning. The first few times you try this method, you should put a ball between your chin and neck to keep your head held up until you get used to it.”

“How did you–?”

“Notice? I love observing others, I can help you. There’s only so much we can practice on our own. I need help with my reflexes and you need someone who can review your performances. We can’t do this alone. You don’t have to like me, you just have to work with me. What do you say? Deal?”

“Tch. Deal.”

At first, their conversations mainly consisted of Marinette’s one-sided chatter during their warm-up, breaks, and cool-down stretches. It took a while for Marinette to get Damian to open up, but once she found the right topics she found that he was strongly opinionated about almost everything and shared quite a few hobbies with her. While Wushu was the common interest that brought them together, they were much more alike than they thought. They both enjoyed art, video games, and superhero shows to name a few common interests. Damian would say he would want to be a hero without any powers, someone who relies on their own skill to punish evil-doers. Marinette on the other hand would love to be a magical girl who could save others without causing too much damage. After hotly debating the topic of normal heroes and powered heroes, Damian and Marinette came to an agreement that both sides had their own set of struggles and perks.

Damian and Marinette found themselves spending more time with each other both inside and outside of the studio. After arguing over which type of paint was superior, Marinette was team watercolor because of its varied use, relative cheapness to oil paints, and blendability where Damian was a more traditional artist who believed that the blending capabilities of oil paint were just as good, if not better, and their longevity was worth the cost, the two decided to settle it with a paint off. Art sessions quickly became a biweekly tradition between the two, whenever the Gotham botanical garden would have a new exhibit Marinette would insist they go to sketch the flora. Damian quickly found that Marinette was almost as passionate about plants as he was about animals, with the way she flitted about the garden he couldn’t help but wonder if she had been something like a ladybug in her past life. There were also plenty of weekends spent sketching Damian’s pets, though Marinette would note that no drawings could capture what good boys Titus, Alfred the Cat, Jerry the Turkey, and Bat Cow were.

Together they found new ways to integrate Wushu into their hobbies, Marinette had plenty of friends at school who loved art and plenty of friends who did Wushu at the same center, but Damian was the only one she shared nearly all her passions with.

With their art, they began making flyers and posters for the studio, and banners to cheer on their classmates at competitions – Damian would argue he only did this because it would increase morale, which in turn would produce better results for the studio. Marinette struggled with the posters at first as a lot of proposed designs incorporated traditional Chinese characters, she couldn’t even write in Pinyin! Tom and Sabine had prioritized teaching Marinette about her French roots, in the event that one day they decided to move back to France, and neglected teaching her much about Chinese heritage. Marinette still learned basic conversational phrases: yes, no, please, thank you, and familial titles, but she was nowhere near conversational or fluent. After realizing Marinette did not know how to speak Mandarin Damian made it his personal goal to make her at least conversational before they would begin to travel internationally for competitions. Many of the major Wushu competitions took place in China and if Marinette was going to be his partner in the couples division he was going to make sure she was able to converse with any interviewers they may meet, and that if she were to end up lost – he swears Marinette was born without a sense of direction – that she could find her way back to him or their hotel. He hoped that while working on the banners he could work in a few lessons on traditional Chinese characters and simplified Chinese characters so that Marinette could at least read signs. Apart from art, reenacting scenes from video game cutscenes and superhero movies became one of their favorite activities, it became a way to train while still having plenty of fun. Sometimes after mastering a new move-in Ultimate Mecha Strike, they would break out the crash mats to test if the moves in the game were actually physically possible.

Even the hobbies Damian didn’t share with Marinette he was willing to partake in, and the fact that he was trying meant the world to Marinette. Damian was rarely physically affectionate in the first few years of their friendship, and it was even rarer for him to vocalize his emotions, and so Marinette quickly learned that Damian had a tendency to express himself through his actions. A lot of people failed to see how warm and loving Damian truly was, but Marinette saw it in how he interacted with everyone. For example, when Damian’s eldest brother opened up an acrobatics and gymnastics center Damian immediately volunteered to design and paint a mural on the outside that would more easily catch attention, Marinette watched him alter the design day and night and sort through hundreds of color palettes to ensure the pairing was just right. She saw his kindness through his interactions with his family and hers, the painting of her mom and dad baking, a gift from Damian for their 20th anniversary, hung up in the living room was more physical proof of it. When Marinette began sewing he proudly wore her designs and when she began to take commissions, he always kept her business card on his body in the event someone asked about his apparel.

One of Marinette’s fondest memories with Damian was when they decided to host a bake sale to offset the cost of international travel for the competition team. It was near the Mid-Autumn festival so Marinette and her parents decided to make mooncakes. Damian had some experience in the kitchen helping his mother make baozi and baklava, but he definitely wasn’t as experienced as Marinette who grew up in a bakery, yet he still came over to help them with the first few test batches and to help design packaging. Watching him carefully weigh out the ingredients her parents listed and chat about his favorite flavors with her parents in French filled her with so much warmth. The kitchen was filled with banter as a discourse between traditional baked mooncakes and skin mooncakes arose. Marinette and Sabine preferred snow skin mooncakes, the chewiness pairs well with pastes like red bean and taro, where Damian and Tom were strongly on the side of the more traditionally baked mooncake, arguing that the crumble of the pastry paired with fillings like salted egg and lotus paste was clearly superior. Marinette was unsurprised that Damian was strongly advocating for traditional flavors, but her father? The same man who made mustard macarons? It wasn’t until Marinette suggested thousand-layer mooncakes were simply croissants with a pasty filling that everyone else was willing to set aside their different preferences to unite against her. While the thousand layer mooncakes and traditional mooncakes baked, and the snow skin mooncakes steamed Marinette and Damian got to work on the packaging. In order to reduce cost, they had ordered plain packaging and planned to carve potato stamps with Mid-Autumn festival motifs: the moon, rabbits, flowers, fans, and lanterns. Despite having seen how proficient Damian was with a blade in training, Marinette was pleasantly surprised, if not downright awed, by Damian’s precision with a knife. By the time Marinette had finished carving out one flower Damian had finished three lantern carvings. After finishing stamping the final package Marinette daringly pressed the still paint-laden potato stamp onto Damian’s cheek which quickly devolved into a paint fight. The picture of Damian and Marinette covered head to two in paint was proudly pinned at the top of her corkboard, Marinette would never forget the sound of the kitchen filled with laughter that day.

Damian’s parents were extremely supportive of this arrangement. Talia thought it was a great opportunity, open gym hours were busy and she couldn’t give all her attention to Damian, having a training partner could really help him grow. If they got along well they could even enter paired events together! Bruce was enthralled that his son found someone to spend time with other than his friend Clark’s son, Jon. Jon and Damian were great friends, but Jon lived in Metropolis and so the boys rarely saw each other outside of business galas and Skype calls. It was nice knowing his son had someone he could spend time with in person, Bruce was concerned that Damian’s interpersonal growth would be stunted by his lack of interaction with his classmates at school. To see his son being a kid, laughing freely, filled him with great joy, he knew that being the son of a billionaire and a top-notch martial artist had put a lot of pressure on Damian’s shoulders, but he never knew what he could do to help his son. Seeing the walls in Damian’s room at the manor fill up with pictures of him and Marinette smiling, Damian smiling, made Bruce figure that everything was going to be okay.

Sabine and Tom grew to love Damian like their own son with the more time he spent at each other’s houses. At first, they were a bit skeptical, they didn’t quite understand what their daughter saw in the boy, but they trusted her judgment and boy are they glad they did. Damian was like a missing piece of their family, despite his hard exterior, the boy was extremely loyal and caring, they could always count on him to have Marinette’s back. Sabine especially had a soft spot for him after watching him correct Marinette’s brush strokes on the banners, teaching her the differences between what she wrote and what he was writing. The two watched their daughter give herself wholly to this boy, and in return, he gave himself back to her and that was all they could’ve ever wanted for Marinette, to love and be loved.

As they grew older they shared more than just common interests: their dreams, their fears, and the pressure they faced from their families. Marinette knew what she wanted for herself – something Damian was envious of. When they were 11 to offset the competition costs, Marinette’s mother began designing and sewing their competition outfits. Once Marinette saw what her mother was doing she wanted to help, and she ended up falling in love with fashion design. From the age of 13 and onward Marinette designed all of her own stage wear, as well as Damian’s. Sabine would joke that with such a talented daughter it’s a shame they didn’t stay in Paris. Damian wouldn’t admit it – Marinette would – but the thought of possibly never meeting Marinette made him feel uncomfortably empty; he wonders how he bore with that feeling before becoming close with Marinette. Damian wasn’t sure what he wanted for himself, he would love to take over his mother’s Wushu studio, maybe even expand it, but he was always raised with the expectation that one day he would inherit his father’s corporation. Despite loving both options, loving both his parents, there was also a part of him that wanted something that was completely Damian, he had already spent so much of his life living in the shadow of his parents. It wasn’t until high school that Damian opened up to Marinette about this, as the time to make decisions grew closer Damian naturally grew more anxious about his future. Marinette rarely gets the chance to comfort Damian, oftentimes he bottles his emotions up until they’re ready to burst, and even then Marinette has to slowly coax him into talking about them, even if it is with his brothers and not her, she just wants him to feel safe with his own emotions. The first time Damian opened up to her about the pressure he felt as his parent’s only biological son she immediately swept him into her arms, stroking his hair she began to tell him about how loved he was. She told him “Damian I love you, your family loves you, my family loves you. I just want you to know how loved you are. I speak not only for myself, but for everyone who loves you when I say this, do what makes you happy. Your parents will be happy as long as you are, they trust that they raised you to make good decisions for yourself. Even if you don’t know what it is that makes you happy yet, don’t be afraid to explore your options; I’ll be right here by your side and I’m going to support you no matter what. You’ve told me before that even if you inherit the studio Maya would co-own it with you, or even if you inherit your father’s business you would be working alongside your brothers. You are not alone, the world is not riding on solely your shoulders.” Damian was completely silent, if not for the wetness on her shoulder and his grip tightening around her, Marinette would figure he was unphased. Marinette has known that she loves this boy, far past the platonic love she just expressed, but for Damian, it was at this moment that he realized that not only was he loved, but he was in love with Marinette.

“WELCOME TO THE WORLD WUSHU CHAMPIONSHIPS 2019 LIVE FROM GOTHAM, NEW JERSEY” roared overhead on the speakers.

Damian and Marinette were standing in a hall away from the main room where other contestants were preparing themselves both appearance-wise and physically. Marinette herself was fixing the crown braid in her hair. The women’s event would take place in the morning to late afternoon, where the men’s event in the evening giving Damian ample time before he needs to warm up to support Marinette. He gave Marinette’s ensemble a once over and with his cheeks tinged red he muttered “I like your costume, you look really cute”, quickly averting his gaze.

Marinette immediately flushed, almost as red as the silken top that adorned her torso, and brought the hands that were adjusting her braids down to her hips and leaned forward, exclaiming in a hushed shout as to not disturb the other competitors warming up, “Damian Al-Ghul Wayne, are you making fun of me? I just want to make sure that any pictures taken do not make me look like a hot mess. Could you imagine what could happen if Audrey Bourgeois sees pictures of me completely frumpled looking and cancels my apprenticeship?? Oh my God and then Parson’s will find out and rescind me and then I won’t be able to visit you at NYU!” Marinette’s hands now rested on her cheeks smearing away her perfectly placed blush. How Marinette managed to go from disgruntled to spiraling in less than a minute is still a mystery that still eludes Damian after years of friendship, but it was his duty to calm her down. He understands her nerves, they had spent the last few years dominating the juniors division and as they entered the senior division there was a lot of pressure for them to win there too. Unfortunately, for every person who wanted them to win, another five were praying for them to slip up, but now is not the time to be overcome by nerves, her turn would come soon and she cannot afford to be overwhelmed by nerves.

Damian fully grasped her wrists pulling her hands away from her face, “Marinette, genuinely you look stunning”. After that comment, Damian noted to himself that it seems like there was no more need for the blush she applied anyways. With the soft tut of his tongue, he smoothed out the harsh lines of her smeared blush using the pad of his thumb. He whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, “Don’t worry too much about your hair and makeup, the most important thing is your form”. Marinette leaned into his touch and gave a small nod, calming down from her spiraling thoughts, he always knew how to ground her.

“Contestant number 54 you’re up next!”

“That’s you; you might want to fix up your makeup real quick, but everything is going to be fine.” He handed her a bag with her cosmetics and a wipe and quickly clapped his hands around her shoulders to guide her to the main stage so she could focus on herself.

Fixing her makeup Marinette shot him a cheeky grin, “wish me luck?”

“You don’t need luck. Marinette you have the skill, you know that.”

“Next up is Marinette Dupain-Cheng from New Jersey, USA! She is definitely a fan favorite to win today on the Women’s Taolu floor. She is internationally known for competing not only in the women’s division but also in the couples’ scene. She’s been training for the individual event from the age of six and for the partner event from the age of nine with her studio mate Damian Al-Ghul Wayne, who is predicted to win the Men’s Taolu event. While we do not have a couples’ Wushu competition here, since turning 18 they have been dominating the senior international couples’ Wushu scene and have gone undefeated.”

Taking off her team jacket, with a quick nod to her parents, Talia, and of course, Damian Marinette strode to the center stage. Damian would never grow sick of watching her transform on stage, it was strikingly similar to the magical girl shows she had been obsessed with as a child. The moment Marinette stepped onto the mat her whole demeanor changed. Her back straightened up, her head would be held high, and most of all, the look in her eyes was filled with inextinguishable fire.

By the end of the event after getting changed Marinette and Damian were making their way to his car. Once Damian turned 16 and got his license, it became a tradition for them to go out for a celebratory meal together without their parents. “Marinette!” Damian heard a voice call out, Agreste he noted in his head. Marinette had met Agreste and Tsurugi while vacationing in Paris. While they weren’t the worst, in fact, Tsurugi was typically pleasant company, Damian was in no mood to socialize after the several rounds of interviews he had to endure after winning first place in Men’s Taolu. Many of the interviewers failed to understand that while yes, he had more opportunities to train as he is a third-generation Wushu champion, it was his hard work that got him to where he was, not his genetics.

Seeing Damian continue on to his car, not wanting to keep him waiting, Marinette quickly bid them farewell with a promise to see them tomorrow. “Hey wait for me!” Marinette called out, running after Damian. Despite his pride usually preventing him from heeding to his peers’ commands, Damian stopped in his tracks, his breath shallow and wondering why Marinette’s voice still makes his heartthrob despite having heard it call out to him for over 10 years. Feeling her hands latch around his arm gave him a sense of comfort. Her grip was strong and steady, yet still gentle. He couldn’t help but envision his hand in hers instead of his arm. The bouquet and hand-painted card in his car were waiting to see if she felt the same.

#Maribat #MGI Trope Tussle 2021 #Daminette #Damian x Marinette #please send help idk how to write #if by any chance Issa is reading this ILY #Team Childhood Friends

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aalissy · 3 years

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Reverse Crush

Reverse crushhhh!! One of my faveeee tropes haha! I hope that you guys like it too <3. Lemme know what you think!!

AO3

Marinette sighed dreamily, flopping face down onto her bed as a huge smile beamed across her face. Her kwami flitted nearby, laughing quietly as she watched the young girl. Marinette dropped her chin on her hands, murmuring, “Did you see him today, Tikki? Wasn’t he just amazing? I just love him so much.”

She dissolved into a fit of giggles, hiding her blushing face into her hands as she squealed. Her legs kicked behind her excitedly, already replaying the akuma attack in her mind as she thought over their interaction. How could he be so perfect?

Tikki shook her head at her fondly before saying, “Yes, Marinette, I did see Chat Noir today. I’m very proud of you, too. You managed to speak normally to him, too. That’s a great sign of improvement.”

She lifted her head back up, glaring at her kwami whose eyes were glimmering back at her teasingly. Marinette was too giddy to argue, however, and she simply flipped over onto her back, staring up at her ceiling with a dopey smile on her face. She only snapped out of her daydreams when TIkki hovered above her face, waving a hand at her.

“You’re daydreaming again, Marinette,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I know!” She squealed, slapping her palms to her cheeks as another happy giggle left her. Flushing darkly, she looked over at the wall of pictures she had of Ladybug and Chat. Marinette then smiled softly at her favorite picture. It was one Alya had taken for her personal Instagram account. She and Chat had been out on patrol when it started raining, forcing them both underneath the same umbrella. His eyes were focused on her in the picture and she wondered what he could possibly be thinking about. Was it possible for him to like her back? Could he have feelings for his clumsy, little bug?

Sighing forlornly, Marinette trailed her fingers delicately over his cheek, wishing she could do that in real life. Turning to face the ceiling once again, she blinked in confusion when she heard a light thump on her balcony. Quickly, she shot her gaze over to Tikki and the kwami immediately took the hint, hiding inside the miracle box she had carefully hidden. Pushing herself up and off the bed, she carefully opened her trapdoor, her hand clenched into a tight fist just in case.

Instead of seeing an akuma or a burglar attempting to rob her, however, she instead saw the slouched form of her partner. He was leaning against her balcony, his ears drooped over his head as he stared out at the setting sun. Marinette’s heart stumbled in her chest as she pulled herself up, tilting her head at him in confusion. “Chat Noir? W-what, um, what are you doing here?”

Immediately, he perked up, whirling around to face her with a tight, forced smile. She instantly felt herself soften, her nervousness disappearing to be replaced with worry. Why did her kitty look so sad?

“Purrincess, fancy seeing you here,” Chat responded with a false, chipper voice.

Marinette frowned, scolding the butterflies she felt in her chest after he called her princess. Now wasn’t really the time for her to focus on the fact that he just flirted with her. She was going to help him. Just like how he helped her with so many akuma attacks. Taking a cautious step toward him, she swallowed a lump in her throat before gesturing at her balcony. Giggling nervously, she replied, “I, um, live here.”

“Right. Of course you do,” Chat grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry for bothering you. I can leave now.”

He extended his baton and Marinette immediately rushed forward, waving her hands in an attempt to stop him. Calling out to him, she yelled, “Wait, wait, wait! Y-you’re not bothering me at all! I-I just... is everything alright? You seemed sad.”

“That obvious, huh?” He gave her a small smirk, shrugging his shoulders.

She flushed faintly before nodding her head. Taking another slow step toward him, she sighed in relief when he reduced his baton. Perhaps Tikki was right. Maybe she was making progress. This was the most sense she had ever made around her partner. Plus, Chat was staring at her with a look she couldn’t quite identify. Her heart fluttered in her chest again before she shoved it away when he started speaking again.

“Come with me,” Chat spoke softly, extending a hand out to her as he jerked his head out toward the city. “I know a place that’ll be purrfect for the two of us.”

He winked at her and Marinette immediately knew that all hope was lost. She was surprised that she didn’t melt into a puddle right then and there. Instead, her words rushed together at a mile a minute, making no sense as she chuckled awkwardly. “M-me, g-go with you? B-but you’re a civilian and I’m a superhero. I-I mean you’re a superhero and I’m a civilian. Besides, I have fomework. Homework! I have homework!”

He blinked at her in astonishment for a bit before he threw his head back in a loud laugh. Marinette turned a dark red, ducking her head down as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Was it possible to die of embarrassment?

“Well, that was pawsitively adorable.” Chat said after laughing. She immediately snapped her head back up to look at him in shock. The butterflies roared back to life as he gave her another wink, beckoning her forward with his still-extended hand. “Come on, homework can wait, can’t it?”

Biting her lip shyly, she slowly took his hand, squeaking with surprise as he lifted her up into his arms. Peeking up at him from beneath her lashes, he murmured to her quietly, “Close your eyes, okay? It can get a little windy.”

Feeling her heart thump in her chest, Marinette nodded, wrapping her arms around him as she closed her eyes. She leaned into his embrace, shivers tingling up and down her body as she realized her crush was holding her. This was the luckiest she had ever been.

When he put her down after a few moments, she gasped in surprise. They were currently on top of the Eiffel Tower, Paris’ lights twinkling around them. Whirling around, she faced Chat who was smiling shyly. Gesturing around them, he asked, “Do you like it?”

“Like it?! Chat, I love it!” Marinette said emphatically, “This is beautiful!”

He beamed proudly and, for the first time, she felt like his bad mood had disappeared. Feeling pleased with herself for giving him a genuine smile, she hoped that his bad mood would stay away. Marinette then slowly sat down to look out over her city, a small smile on her lips as she listened to the sound of traffic below. She was surprised when she felt Chat sit down next to her, his hand brushing against hers lightly.

Flushing a deep red, she shifted slightly, hesitant to bring up any bad memories. Sucking in a deep breath of courage, Marinette asked, “So, did something happen today, or...?”

Chat sighed quietly, placing his head on his hand as he murmured, “I was more tired than anything, I guess. My work can get exhausting. Plus...,” he paused once briefly to glance at her before continuing, “I don’t think the girl I like likes me back.”

She immediately felt herself stiffen. Surely he couldn’t be talking about her? She was always so obvious. Tapping her two index fingers together, Marinette murmured, “T-the girl you like?”

A wide smile spread across his face as he gazed at her. “Yeah. She’s a fellow classmate of mine. Very smart and very purrety, too. The thing is, when I flirt with her, she seems to take everything as a joke. I don’t think she realizes I actually like her.”

“Sounds like an idiot,” Marinette muttered under her breath grumpily. So it wasn’t her then. It was some pretty, amazing girl in Chat’s class. That girl was so lucky and she had no idea.

He laughed loudly, nudging her shoulder with his as his eyes glimmered over at her knowingly. “No, she’s really not. Purrhaps a little oblivious but not an idiot.”

Sighing quietly, Marinette glanced away from him, feeling slightly hopeless. If only she could slap some sense into the girl Chat likes. Looking down at Paris sadly, she said, “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think the guy I like likes me back either.”

“What?! You like a guy?!” Chat immediately turned his head to look at her, a strange expression crossing his face before he backtracked. “I-I mean, w-what makes you think that?”

Chuckling bitterly at herself, she shook her head. “I can be pretty stupid around my crush. I say the wrong thing or I stutter on my words. I’m incredibly clumsy too. I’m sure he must think I’m silly. He probably knows I like him and is trying to save my feelings by not telling me.”

“Hey,” Chat placed his hands on her shoulders, bringing her gaze back to him as he spoke to her seriously, “Marinette, you’re an absolutely amazing girl! Any guy would be lucky to have you like him. And, besides, your clumsiness is adorable. I’m jealous of him already.”

She bit her lip to contain her beaming smile. Chat was jealous of... well, himself! Plus, he called her amazing! He may be in love with someone else but it was her he was bringing to the top of the Eiffel Tower and her he fought akumas with every day. The girl he was in love with sounded oblivious too so maybe she did still have a chance.

Feeling her face heat up, Marinette asked, “Really?”

“Really,” Chat smiled back at her, his hands still on her shoulders as he squeezed them gently.

Feeling giddy, she then murmured shyly, “I feel the exact same about that girl you like. She’s lucky to have you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.”

He blinked at her a few times before a soft, adoring smile spread across his face. “She really is.”

Marinette then turned away from him, a strong urge to press forward and kiss him filling her. Instead of doing that, though, she leaned her head against his shoulder, sighing quietly as she looked out at the city of Paris. This was enough. Even if Chat wasn’t in love with her, she could live with being his best friend. Having him in her life was just perfect for her.

#marichatmay2021 #marichatmay #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #marichat #marichat fic #reverse crush #reverse crush au #love square reversal

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tryingmydarndest · 3 years

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Thank You (Luka Couffaine x Reader)

Summary (Part 1/probably 3): The author goes on a bit of a tangent about how Y/N goes on a bit of a tangent about Viperion. Who may just have a little, big ol' crush on them?

Tags: -not enough actual relationship -fluff -but like, a weird sprinkling of angst that I didn't plan on right at the end???

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Inspired by this fic by @seriously-sirius-black <3. Luka? OOC? Idk, probably, I don’t write fanfic. But I am actually kinda proud of how well Alya turned out. Writing this made me realize how much of a mom friend I apparently headcanon her as. I wrote this gender-and-as-everything-else-neutral as I can make it (lemme know if you see ways I can improve, tho idk how much more fanfic I'll even be writing). Also, I freakin' RAMBLE and overuse italics, but ya get what ya get and ya don't gotta fret. Ooh, important note for future parts (if i write them) - this is a kinda!au where the miraculous users keep their miraculous. also if I had a nickel for every time I get awkwardly specific about the placement of both of a character’s hands I’d have TWO nickels. Happy reading!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Part I - Paris's Cutiest Heroes

The look currently on Marinette’s face as she sputtered out a response was priceless, “Cat Noir? Cat Noir!? What makes you think I’d find Cat Noir attractive at all? And- and- HIM- the cutest superhero! Ridiculous!”

“Utterly ridiculous?”

“Nice one, Alya”

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” you gave Alya a high five on your way to your seat next to Juleka and Rose on the couch facing Marinette and Alya. A sunny Friday after school was the perfect place for Kitty Section and their entourage to hang out. Unfortunately without Ivan and Mylène, seeing as their anniversary called for a private celebration. After pushing a couple couches onto the deck of The Liberty, Alya had predictably started talking about Paris's resident hero team. Today, she chose to ask everyone who they deemed the cutest, and she made sure to jump on Marinette's... interesting response, “And girl, he has the same silky golden hair and dreamy emerald eyes as Adrien Agreste. What’s utterly ridiculous is you freaking out and dodging every time we bring up superheroes!”

The designated snack-boy, Luka, walked out precariously carrying three bowls of goodies for everyone, “Alright, I got more popcorn. Sorry, but looks like we’re out of cheese flavoring, Y/N”

“Oh... that’s fine. I honestly wasn’t expecting it since I forgot to ask,” your free hand not reaching for the bowl rubbed the back of your neck, “but thanks for remembering.”

“Oh, um yeah- Always," is it creepy to remember something so specific? Someone as nice as Y/N wouldn't be interested in some creep. Ugh. Luka took a seat with his own bowl after passing Alya and Marinette theirs. He ended up next to you on the floor, leaning against the arm of the couch, dangerously close to touching your legs.

Rose reached for the popcorn as she interjected, “You know, Alya does have a point. So Marinette, why don’t you just tell us who you think the cutest superhero is, if you don’t like us guessing?”

Somehow Marinette’s face went even paler as she spoke, “What- I mean, I don’t- I haven’t thought- Wha- what about Y/N? Why aren’t you interrogating them?”

Alya crossed her arms, “Because Y/N says the same thing about the same hero every day. Just watch. Ahem, Y/N, care to weigh in on the cuteness level of our lovely Parisian superheroes?”

You looked up from the bowl you had stolen back from Rose with wide eyes, "Hey! Okay, no, that is not fair! Besides, what is our criteria for 'cute'? I mean... Are we going just by physical characteristics? Is costume a factor? What about the animal they're representing, could our opinion of that make this whole thing unfair? And cuteness is so subjective anyway... Why are we even reducing these amazing and honorable superheroes to just their looks? I mean we could be talking about skill, or their powers or power lev-"

"-And your answer would be exactly the same. Seriously, are you done trying- and might I add, failing- to talk yourself out of this one yet? Or should I just read the article you wrote for the Ladyblog?"

"You said you deleted that!"

Luka had perked his head up at your initial fumbling response and turned to you when he spoke, "You wrote an article? That's pretty cool."

You rubbed your face to try and distract yourself from the burning embarrassment, "Umm, yeah. But it was terrible and extremely not. worth. publishing." You hoped the glare you sent the girl in question was enough to scare her into deleting it on the spot, or to at least lie about it, "So Alya kindly deleted it, right?"

Sitting up with a smug look and crossed arms severely lowered your faith that she'd keep quiet. "A good journalist archives everything. Especially something as juicy as one of her besties going on for five thousand words about how dreamy the great Viperion is," dramatically fake-fainting into Marinette's lap, Alya could barely finish before bursting out in laughter. Of course, quickly followed by the others joining in to varying degrees. Juleka and Rose happily giggled to themselves, Marinette looked more relieved that the heat was off her, and Luka seemed to be shocked, or maybe just holding back to see how you were taking this.

Horribly. Horribly embarrassed would describe how you were taking this conversation. You sat there stock-still as you hoped that none of the others could hear your heart's desperate attempts to pound its way out of your chest. That's certainly all you could hear, at least until Alya's voice brought you out of it, "Hey, it's fine," she made her way over to sit next to you as she continued, "We all have our little hero crushes. That's why I bring it up all the time, to show you that it's totally normal! I mean, we all know how I could go on about Carapace for days," Alya gestured for the others to continue, and used her other hand to try and comfort you.

"Well, I find Ladybug to be just absolutely adorable and so kind.... oh it just makes me so happy knowing she's keeping all of Paris safe," Rose added softly.

Juleka brushed a strand of hair aside as she spoke, "Rena Rouge is super mysterious, pretty rad in my opinion."

Alya was rubbing your back like the mom friend she is to try and help encourage you, "See? Super normal, so go ahead and release all this pent up Viperion energy that I know you have. Maybe it'll encourage Marinette here to finally join in the fun!" Alya stuck her tongue out at her best friend, who responded promptly by smashing her face into a pillow.

You just sighed, "I mean- it’s- it can't just-'' were you supposed to just get over it all just like that? Well, at least the embarrassment was wearing off, maybe you could just entertain her for a bit, "Well- um, you see.... HisHairJustLooksReallySoftAnd- you know what. Nope. Can't do anymore of this. Yep- that's all you're getting out of me!" This time when everyone started giggling, you were able to comfortably join them. It was a nice feeling.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A nice evening chilling out with your friends was always welcome, especially with the rising number of akumatizations making that less possible. But the night had come to a close. Alya and Marinette went home, Juleka was walking Rose back herself, and Luka and you had volunteered to clean up. Luka stopped drying the cup in his hand for a minute as he looked at you, “Um, I know it might not be my place, but I want you to know that you don’t have to be embarrassed about the whole... Viperion thing.” God, how am I supposed to take the news that MY crush has a crush on.... Sort of me? Am I supposed to count it as me at all?

“Oh, um. Yeah, thanks. I think I’m over the embarrassment now that it’s out. I don’t know, it’s just that a lot of people think it’s weird since he’s kind of a new hero,” how are you supposed to explain this to him? That you kept such a non-issue secret from him, especially without getting suspiciously defensive about it. “And then people use that to try and say that I only like him for his looks..... And that’s not it! I don’t know, it’s kind of.... A lot? To explain, that is.” This was not going well.

“Oh... Well, what is it? That you like about him, I guess.”

This was so not going well. But he was waiting for a response so... “Uh, well I guess it did kinda start..... that way.... but then I started doing research. I learned about his power and saw videos of his fights. He’s really good! Especially for being so new, which kinda goes into why his power makes me like him so much.” Shit. Rambling, I’m just talking and talking and I need to stop. But how am I supposed to change the subject now? And now Luka’s sitting down, and he seems so invested. Why does this have to happen to me?

“What do you mean by that?”

Luka’s voice kindly shuts your little thought-spiral in its tracks. What were you saying? Oh, Viperion’s powers! You can talk about this, you know this. Just keep talking, at least he seems interested in it, “Well, you know how he can go back and redo the last couple of minutes?” Luka nodded, “Well, we always see the time that worked out. Us civilians get to keep going from the one time it all went right. Just imagine all the times he failed, all the times he couldn’t get it right. It could be dozens, maybe even hundreds of times! He must get so discouraged at some point, I mean I know I would.... I guess I didn’t really think about it at first, but.... but, I doubt I could keep that determination, and I’m so glad Paris has a hero who can, and does.”

Silence. Why was it so quiet? Oh no, he thinks I’m weird. He must think-

“All of this from ‘his hair looks soft’?”

“Hey! You can’t tell me not to be embarrassed, then make fun of me! That’s against the rules!”

Luka chuckled as he said, “Against what rules, exactly?”

“The Rules Of Best Friendship, duh!”

“And who exactly said you were my best friend?”

“Well... your loss, I guess. Now you won’t get an invitation when I plan Rose and Juleka’s wedding,” you brushed off his offended glare as you took the seat next to him.

“She’s my sister.”

“She’d take my side.”

I’d take your side, too. I will always take your side. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

A/N the sequel: I am super bad at finishing things, but I really wanna keep motivated to finish this (like I have a full, probably 3 part, plan for this). If you guys want to help, shoot me a message and I'll send you a link to the google doc I'm writing this on. Feel free to leave a little comment (pls be kind, obviously) and see my writing process! Idk, would any of you guys be interested in that? Would you just get annoyed at having already read the thing before I post it?

#luka couffaine x reader #luka couffaine #mircaulous ladybug #miraculous fanworks #miraculous fanfic #miraculous luka #miraculous lb #the tales of ladybug and cat noir #luka couffaine fanfic #luka couffaine imagine #im gonna hate seeing this show up when i search luka x reader #but imma have to deal with it #mmmmmmm #we love anxiety here #<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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miraculous-sunflower · 3 years

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science teachers ARE cool

Mrs. Mendeleiev’s POV

Beatrice Mendeleiev sighed. She did not like the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was expelled without proof, and that Lila’s parents did not come when she was supposedly pushed down the stairs. She tried to get Mr. Damocles, another fool, to look at the security cameras during Miss Dupain-Cheng’s expulsion, but he denied, saying that if she wouldn’t stop badgering him, he would fire her. She reluctantly obliged, though secretly thinking that the school didn’t even have cameras, because of course the principal used the funds from the mayor to buy his foolish “hero costume”. Ms. Mendeleiev kinda liked Marinette Dupain-Cheng, even if she came into science class late every time. She was a good student, getting straight A’s, and her family made the best pastries in Paris, though she knew pastries weren’t even relevant in this incident. She knew she had to help out Miss Dupain-Cheng. Even if she got fired from her job, it was okay. She didn’t like her job very much, as everyone here was a fool, and she could find another job somewhere else, but it was her job, as a teacher, to protect her students. _______________________________________________________________________

Ms. Mendeleiev scoured the internet, trying to find the Italian Embassy’s number. She heard Lie-la -oops i mean Lila- talking about how her mother was a diplomat, so she had to get in contact with her to tell her all about her daughter’s antics - if she knew. She finally found the number, and dialed.

“Hello, what can I help you with?” the person on the other line asked. “Hello, I’m Beactrice Mendeleiev, and I’m trying to get in touch with Lucia Rossi?” Ms. Mendeleiev questioned.

“Actually, I’m Lucia Rossi. I’m the secretary of the Italian Embassy. What do you need?” Heh, another thing Lila was lying about. Her mother was the secretary. Still must be hard work.

“I’m actually your daughter Lila’s science teacher, and I was wondering about all of Lila’s absences and missing assignments. I questioned her about it, and she said she couldn’t do her assignments because of her arthritis and many other disabilities she has.” Ms. Mendeleiev stayed up all night, trying to come up with the perfect story to seem like she was calling for something besides exposing Lila.

“Arthritis? Disabilities? Lila doesn’t have any disabilities? And absences? Are you sure she said that?” Mrs. Rossi was very surprised. Perfect. Ms. Mendeleiev grinned.

Lucia Rossi’s POV

The other woman on the other line was too surprised. Disabilities? Lila didn't have any disabilities. She was a healthy little girl, her little bambina. Was her baby spouting lies? She doubted it. Perhaps this teacher didn’t properly hear her.

“Yes, I’m sure, and on top of all her disabilities, she said that she has a lying disease which causes her to lie, by accident. She said this one a fellow classmate of hers, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, apparently pushed her down the stairs. Marinette did no such thing, and the expulsion was reversed. If you don’t believe me, take a look on the LadyBlog. It was a blog dedicated to the Heroes of Paris, but now your daughter’s face is plastered on it. If I had a daughter, I’d never want her to be bragging about her accomplishments!”

Mrs. Rossi was shocked when she said lying disease. She looked at the “World’s Best Mom” cup on her desk. Lila gave it to her when the school apparently “shut down”. Was her little bambina lying this whole time? And blog?

“LYING DISEASE?!?! I have to call the school. What has this girl been doing? Also, I want to hear more about her absences.”

“I can help you set up an appointment with Mr. Damocles. As for her absences, Lila has been claiming that the Prince of Achu, Prince Ali, has invited you and Lila personally to visit the kingdom for 2 months. Were you not there?” Ms. Mendeleiev sounded confused. Oh dear, it sounded like she also fell for her daughter’s lies.

“ACHU? 2 MONTHS? Lila told me that the school was closed for 2 months because Ladybug and Chat Noir were too incompetent to defeat the akumas!” Mrs. Rossi exclaimed. Now here, she understood. Her daughter told her that the school was closed down, and her teachers that she was traveling, to get out of going to school! She could get in trouble for truancy for that!

“I assure you, Ladybug and Chat Noir are not incopetent. They usually take care of an akuma in less than 3 hours. “Oh, this is a lot to take in right now. I’m sorry, but Lila lied about everything. Thank you for calling me, I really appreciate it. I’ll come by the school this week.” Mrs. Rossi finally breathed out.

“I’m glad I did. Clearly, you were not informed of this, and Lila was lying about everything this whole time!” Mrs. Rossi showed a little smile, but it quickly went away. Before she hung up, she had to ask-

“Before I go, was there anything else Lila said?”

“She said that she saved Jagged Stone’s kitten off an airplane tarmac, and that she knows Clara Nightingale. She also said she’s best friends with Ladybug. Now that I think about it, she probably framed Marinette to get her expelled, now that I know she lied about having a lying disease.”

Saving kittens? Being best friends with pop stars? Best friends with a superhero? She could get sued for all the stories she’s spouted! And if these stories were heard at the embassy, she could get fired! Oh that girl...

“Oh my goodness, I will have to apologize to Miss Dupain-Cheng on behalf of my daughter. Thank you again, Ms. Mendeleiev.”

Sure enough, later that day, the mother searched up the LadyBlog, and of course, her daughter’s face was there, next to the headline, “I’m BFF’s with Ladybug’s BFF!”. She sighed. She was going to expose her daughter for the liar she is, because her daughter fooled the whole school, not to mention hurt one of her other classmates!

Mrs. Mendeleiev’s POV

After the call ended, Ms. Mendeleiev smirked. Lie-la will have no idea what’s coming to her now. __________________________________________________________________________________

Marinette’s POV

“Me and Clara Nightingale are sooo close, that we’re practically sisters! I helped her with most of her dance moves for her newest music video!” Lila bragged.

“OMG girl! That’s amazing!” Alya exclaimed.

“Wow, Lila, you have a heart of gold!” Rose and Mylene gushed.

“So awesome.” Juleka mumbled.

Marinette rolled her eyes. They were talking about Lila as if she was a saint, though they probably did. She was sketching out a new design, and it was Rena Rouge inspired. Alya, Marinette thought. Her and Alya were still friends, but they were a lot more distant. All of her friends were like that. She thought about Adrien for a second, and then quickly dismissed the thought. Adrien was irrelevant, at this point. He gave her that stupid piece of advice, take the high road, and basically got mad if she did anything to prove Lila wrote if the witch spouted another lie. Her crush on him was long gone, which gave her more time to focus on her guardian work.

Marinette continued sketching her design, but then suddenly, she heard a faint but sharp, “Miss Dupain-Cheng?” She looked over to where the voice came from. Ms. Mendeleiev was signaling her to come outside. This is it, she metally scolded herself. You came to class late too many times. She’s gonna call Maman and Papa, and tell them you’re late every day, and they will try to find out what’s up, and then they’ll figure out you're Ladybug, and then they’ll forbid you from fighting akumas, and then Hawkmoth will win, AND PARIS WILL BE DOOMED! She silently walked out of the classroom.

“Hello, Miss Dupain-Cheng. You’re probably wondering why I called you outside, but don’t worry, you are not in trouble. This is regarding Miss Lila Rossi.” Ms. Mendeleiev said.

Marinette was shocked at first, then nervous. “Ms. Mendeleiev, I can assure you, whatever Lila said isn’t true! She lies with-”

“Every breath she takes. I know.” The science teacher cut in. “I called her mother recently, and she too had no idea about Lila’s antics. She will be coming in today to discuss with Ms. Bustier and Mr. Damocles, and I can assure you, she will be exposed for who she truly is.”

Marinette was stunned. Her science teacher knew that Lila was lying? She was sure that she was in trouble. Marinette blinked, “Wow, that’s a lot to take in, but thank you. This means a lot to me, Ms. Mendeleiev.” She was grateful for her teacher.

Mrs. Mendeleiev smiled. “I truly do not like liars either, so it was very tempting. I see that none of your other classmates or teacher has figured out she was spinning a tale this whole time, have they?”

Marinette thought for a second, and said, “There is one who knows. It’s Adrien, Adrien Agreste. He knew, but he thinks avoiding conflict makes it go away. He told me to take the high road.”

“Really? That certainly wasn’t good advice. Avoiding conflict isn’t going to make it go away. It will only cause more chaos. Anyways, I have to go, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Have a good day.” Ms. Mendeleiev concluded.

“Have a good day as well!” Marinette said. “Wait,” she started. Ms. Mendeleiev turned around and looked at her. “Ms. Mendeleiev, is there any way I can be moved into your class?”

“I’m not sure, but after this, I’m hoping that the leadership and staff at this school will improve after this incident. Now, run along, or you will be late for class.” Ms. Mendeleiev waved.

Marinette walked back to Mrs. Bustier’s room, feeling much more optimistic than she had 10 minutes ago. _______________________________________________________________________

In Ms. Bustier’s classroom, they were learning about authors of the world, and were taking turns saying who their-

“LILA ALEXANDRIA ROSSI! WHAT ARE THESE STORIES YOU’VE BEEN SPOUTING?!” A woman who looked like a much older Lila burst into the room. Marinette straight out smirked.

“Mama! It’s not what you-” Lila started.

“Not what I think? You know what I think? I think you’ve been lying to me this entire time! You’ve misplaced my trust, taking me for a fool! Saying that the schools were closed because Ladybug and Chat Noir were too incompetent to take care of them! Saying that you took a 2 month vacation at the Kingdom of Achu! Saying that you know all these pop stars! You realise I can lose my job if your stories wound up at the embassy! Non cercare di scappare via.” Her mother yelled.

Alya became mad. “What do you mean, she said Ladybug and Chat Noir are incompetent? Ladybug is Lila’s best friend!”

Lila’s face was panicked. She knew that if she spun the right tale she could weasel out...

Lucia Rossi took a breath and said, “I’m afraid my daughter has been lying to you all. Everything she said was fake. I’m sorry on her behalf. Also, may I speak to Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” A girl with dark blue pigtails and bright bluebell eyes raised her hand. “I’m so sorry, Miss Dupain Cheng. I wasn’t aware that my daughter framed you to get you expelled. I hope you are doing well.”

Marinette looked at her kindly. “Thank you for the apology, Mrs. Rossi, but please don’t feel bad. You weren’t the cause of this, and you certainly didn’t know.” Lila’s look she aimed at Marinette was murderous.

“Thank you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Lila, come on. You should be happy you aren’t sued for slander and use of name.” The mother barked out at Lila.

“No, mama! They are under a spell! They are lying! DOn’t listen to them! I never said anything about traveling to Achu, or being best friends with Ladybug!” Lila knew she could get out, of course she could.

“NO LILA! YOU ARE LYING. YOUR SCIENCE TEACHER SHOWED ME THIS BLOG, AND IT HAS ALL OF YOUR FALSE CLAIMS ON IT! DON’T EVEN TRY TO WIGGLE OUT IF THIS MESS YOU CAUSED!’ An akuma showed up, and was heading toward Mrs. Rossi.

“CoMe HeRe, little akuma!” Lila sung. She deliberately tried to grab for the akuma, only to be stopped by a particular bluenette. Marinette pushed Lila over and trapped the akuma in a jar, and placed it on a desk.

“Why am I not surprised? Of course you are working with a well-known terrorist. LILA! HOW STUPID ARE YOU?!” Her mother screamed at her.

Lila was so mad, and wanted to rip that goody-two shoes apart.”YOU!” she began at the bluenette, “You ruined everything! Everything was going so well, all these sheep believed me, and Adrien was so close to being mine! You went and ruined it!” She stomped over to Marinette, and was about to slap her, until…

Alya’s hand gripped Lila’s arm so tight, there were marks. “Because of you, my blog is ruined. What’s even worse, is that you ruined my friendship with my best friend.”

“Well, it’s not my fault you didn’t fact check. You ARE a terrible reporter.” Lila smirked, but was pulled by the arm of her mother.

They left, and Marinette’s classmates immediately surrounded her, begging her, yelling out apologies, and saying how sorry they were for not believing her. “While none of you directly hurt me, it really did hurt that none of my friends had my back,” she looked at Adrien, who looked guilty, “or even believed me! You believed a girl with crazy stories over me, your friend. It’s going to take time for me to trust you all again, but I’d like to build up our friendship again.” She finished.

“We understand, Marinette. We are so sorry!” Rose cried. “Not cool what she did…” Juleka mumbled. “Girl, I’m so sorry. I should’ve researched her claims, I’m a horrible friend and reporter,” Alya concluded sadly.

“While you didn’t research her claims, the snake is very convincing,” Marinette said. “Just remember in the future, take the word of the friend you trust the most.”

Ms. Mendeleiev smiled at the scene. She was secretly watching after she came from the principal’s office. Mr. Damocles and Ms. Bustier were fired by the school board because of their incapability to control a lying student. Mr. Damocles was also charged with a fine for using school funds for personal gain, and Ms. Bustier was lectured because of her insisting that “bullies will become better people if you let them get away with everything”. Ms. Mendeleiev was now Principal Mendeleiev, as she was promoted.

Beatrice Mendeleiev chuckled to herself. “Well, Lie-la Rossi. You didn’t get away with your tricks. No matter what, I will always protect my students. And possibly get promoted while at it.”

#lila exposed #lila salt #ms. mendeleiev #class salt #adrien salt #but very little

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