Brooklyn was raised more or less by her mom and step dad for most of her life after the death of her father. She also several secrets, hidden from the world.
May it be the abuse she experiences more often than not, or her supernatural abilities giv...
A/N as promised, the bombshell suit, by xmalfoynewtbs , my artistically talented friend
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Okay so that's the old suit I'm keeping it here because the new one is eh it's more what I'm imagining but this one is more full body and I consider the new one more of a merge of the two suits. The new one just pretend it has a hood matching the suit.
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Recentest edit Neither of these are accurate I'm changing the suit imagine whatever you want but the stone was like a prismatic rainbow effect type of thing and the suit sort of matches it
———————- Brooke POV ———————-
I worriedly wave off Mr. Stark's question as I briefly allow air to fill my lungs, a stinging sensation in my throat. This causes him to look at me, concern painted all over his face. "Kid... you sure?"
Inhaling another sharp breath, I cautiously formulate a quick reply, "Nothing, it's nothing. I'm alright," I look down at my bare hands avoiding eye contact, my wrists laced with the bracelets sourcing one of my favorite activities when I fight. The thinking weapons.
I don't actually wear them much, because a lot of patrols are grab and go, and those aren't connected to the suit. Sort of an inconvenience.
The bracelets allow me to simply reach back into the holster strewn over my back and pull out whatever weapon my brain thinks up. I don't know how it works.
Mr. Stark clears his voice before saying out loud, "Jarvis, get Clint back in here."
A voice overhead spoke clearly, "Yes sir." Mr. Stark slowly crept out of the room, constantly looking back at me with uncertainty. His worried face was soon replaced by the comforting one of Mr. Clint. A look of pity briefly crept onto his face as the two made eye contact, he then kneels down to face me.
"How old did you say you were, Brooklyn?" He asks, nothing but kindness lingering in his voice.
"F..fourteen..."
"Oh," he pauses, flashing me sympathy. What is with all of this sympathy? I'm not a baby. I'm just a bit freaked out. "Well, uh, as promised, I'm supposed to give you a room. Also, fighting wise, what would you say your skill level is? Out of 100?"
I didn't want to admit my real sense of power, fearing they'd use it to their advantage, but I didn't want to lie and have to train. "P..probably around 70 or 80?"
"That's really good, actually, maybe one or two training sessions to know your powers, and some self-defense? How's that sound, kiddo?"
I didn't want to say much of anything here, so I simply nod. He offers his hand out to me, and I reluctantly take it. He then leads me to a room next to one with a bow symbol on it. The door was plain and bare, nothing unique aside from the plain white stained wood.
The room was massive and extremely spacious, maybe too spacious. There were several, platforms and levels of sorts. It was bland and bare, very plainly decorated. It was clearly a guest room, or prepared for the next person to use it. This could be fun. The bed was also massive, and I'd never seen one so big. I've rarely seen one in person, but I've never seen one bigger than a full. At this point I'm practically drooling, and I think Mr. Clint takes notice of this as he motions towards the bed with a light chuckle. "Get some rest, kiddo. Hmm..." he begins thinking of something, and I look at him confused. He finally speaks again.
"Can I call you Brooke?" He asks curiously. He seems to be actually interested in my opinion. I give him my nod of approval, and he smiles just before leaving. I climb into the big fluffy bed. It feels genuinely like laying on a cloud, and I fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. That wouldn't last... the happiness.. and I knew it. But I could get used to this level of comfort. It was oddly soothing, and I didn't think the days of me not being awestruck by this room would ever come.
————————-
I lie awake, unable to sleep. The room is eerily dark and oddly quiet. My tired eyes impatiently staring at the ceiling, I continue to strain my ears for any sound of something being wrong.
Soon enough, Michael bursts the door open, standing in the doorway with his whip. The door frame is splintered and cracked from all the times the door has been ripped open, but no one bothers to fix it. His yelling cuts through my thoughts like a dull blade. "You worthless whore," he mutters quietly before raising his voice to a drunken scream. "How dare you, leave your shoes in the doorway! As if you own the place! You will never be that level of welcome in my home, ungrateful slut."
"B...But I-," is all I manage out before the cracking of the whip hits my stomach, causing me to double over in pain.
"Shut up! I'm sick and tired of your pathetic voice. You need to listen to me and cut out this fucking back talk. Don't you know kids are better seen, not heard?" my heart sinks as he grabs a fistful of my hair. He drags me off to the torture room, and I wince as I know what comes next. He looks through all his 'toys', choosing his next action. Before I can stop it, he begins the cutting and carving and burning things into my helpless, used body. But that's nothing compared to what comes next.
The worst pain of all. The thing I fear every time this happens and pray that it won't every time he gets angry. But I already know it's too late by the clang of the metal on his belt hitting the splintered floor. It was all I could do not to cry, but that didn't stop me from thrashing and kicking about to get out of his hold. I kept screaming, and a single tear rolled down my cheek as I felt the ragged cloth of the gag scrape the inside of my mouth.
———————-
I wake with a jolt, sweating and confused, only to see a group of unfortunate startled Avengers, either comforting me or holding my limbs in attempt to stop my thrashing.
"Lady Brooklyn, are you alright?" Says an unfamiliar voice.
"Shh, calm down" another unfamiliar voice.
I hear several desperate attempts to comfort me, few of which I actually recognize. Above all of them, I hear Tony's words of seemingly disappointment.
"What was that, kid?"
A/N Finally edited this chapter! Finally it bothers me significantly less, but the ending is still kinda bleh and I can't figure out anyway to make it less painful to read.
My friend is also working on updating the suit for me to better suit my present day standards, so that's scrumdiliumptious. Little note to me, if I don't get Tis The Age Of Ultron updated by the end of February I owe you guys one update every day for the month of march so let's not do that 😭
Keep in mind next chapter that the only people at this point who know that she's in the tower and her identity are Tony, Clint, and Nat, and that only those three were on the mission to get her, the others were only to be used as backup in extreme cases, other than Steve. (He was at the first chase but not the second)
