Thunder and Black Wings (DxD / Multi Cross)

Chapter 33:

– Tony Stark –

"Poor Yinsen..." Tony Stark clenched his jaw inside the crude iron helmet, the recycled air tasting of oil and desperation. "I'll avenge you, buddy."

Months of hammering scrap into plating, months of whispered plans, and in the end Yinsen had paid for Stark Industries' fuck‑ups with his life. Tony promised himself—as the Mark I's servos groaned and his boots cratered the cave floor—that he would track down every bastard who had funneled his weapons into these lunatics' hands and shut them down personally.

Assuming, of course, he got out alive.

Gunfire snapped him back to the present. Muzzle‑flashes stitched white scars across the darkness while 7.62 rounds rang like angry hail against the armor. The plating held, but each impact felt like a sledgehammer to the ribs. "Padding," he muttered, staggering forward. "Real fucking padding on Mark II—note to self."

A half‑dozen gunmen clogged the tunnel mouth, boots skidding on rubble as they jostled for a firing line.

"Hold position!" the squad leader barked in Dari, then switched to theatrical English just for Tony's benefit: "The iron demon dies here!"

Another, higher voice cracked behind him. "Aim for the joints—he bleeds inside!" Panic already frayed its edges.

Tony leveled the makeshift wrist‑gun Yinsen had cobbled together from a scrapyard anti‑aircraft cannon. "Say cheese, assholes."

The recoil slammed his shoulder. The cavern bloomed crimson. Two shooters pin‑wheeled backward while a third dropped screaming, clutching the ragged stump of a thigh.

"Fall back—reload, reload!" the leader shrieked, slamming a fresh mag into his rifle.

Before Tony could ride the momentum, the cannon coughed, choked, and jammed with a teeth‑rattling clang.

"Shit," he growled as he saw magazines snapping into place all along the tunnel. "Great time for performance issues, Stark."

"The iron demon is out of ammo! Bring the launcher—kill him!" one of them barked—in perfectly theatrical English, just in case Tony missed the plot twist here.

RPG-Stark Grade rocket launcher—its shaped‑charge warhead could chew through tank armor. In this claustrophobic tunnel the back‑blast alone would turn the corridor into an oven, and there was zero space for Stark to pivot or dive. His pulse spiked, even the Mark I's iron slabs might as well be tin foil against a direct hit.

Not good. Not good at all.

…and then the rocketeer's head separated from his shoulders in a shimmering blur, thudding onto the cave floor while the body crumpled in a spray of dark arterial mist.

Tony's jaw dropped behind the faceplate—what the hell had just happened? 

Leaves—actual green leaves—spiraled through the subterranean air like confetti. Out of the swirling vortex stepped a woman who looked as though she'd walked straight off the cover of an impossibly horny manga.

Raven hair spilled to her waist, eyes so fucking violet they looked back‑lit, and a vacuum‑sealed black ninjagirl outfit that put every absurdly perfect curve—tits, hips, and ass—in hi‑definition made Tony's billion‑dollar brain bluescreen like a bargain‑bin laptop.

Her tanto flashed—a thirteen‑inch, single‑edge burst of steel that hissed through the air. Tony registered only the afterimage: three razor lines blooming red across necks in perfect sync.

"Wha-?"

The gunmen's knees folded, rifles clattering to stone while their brains still tried to process what the fuck had happened. By the time the bodies hit the floor the blade was already kissed back into its sheath, not a goddamn drop of blood landed anywhere on her or the polished steel.

The cave fell silent except for the drip of oil from Tony's elbow joint.

She turned, assessing the welded colossus in front of her. Tony's heartbeat wasn't fear this time, it was something far stupider. He thinks he was in love...

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said, his voice echoing inside the helmet. "Come here often?"

Even with the faceplate hiding him, Tony felt himself cringe. Months in a cave fantasizing about seeing a real woman again—and then this busty Asian Goddess ninja woman shows up—and that was the best he had?

The woman laughed—a low, smoky giggle that ricocheted off the rock. "God, I'd forgotten how fun a garbage pickup line could be," she said, violet eyes gleaming. "Been ages since anyone tried."

Tony's brow furrowed inside the helmet. A stunner like her complaining about a drought in admirers? That math didn't check out.

Oh well! More for him then!

She let her gaze travel slowly over the Mark I—every scorched weld, every loosened rivet. The way her violet eyes narrowed made Tony feel like a kid who'd shown up to prom wearing a garbage can.

"Uh, my gear's usually a hell of a lot sleeker than this," he blurted. "Cave‑built, bargain‑bin materials. Not exactly Stark Industries showroom quality…" he mumbled in the helmet.

"It's not the craftsmanship," she replied, touching one finger to the pitted chest plate as if testing the edge on fine china. "I just didn't realize tech had sprinted so far ahead while I was… away. Giant walking armor is a bit of a shock."

"First of its kind," Tony said, pride leaking through despite the situation. Then he cleared his throat. "And if we don't haul ass, it might be the last. More of these trigger‑happy assholes are stationed topside." He suddenly realized he'd skipped step one of normal human interaction. "Tony Stark," he offered. "And you are…? Also—are you, like, an actual ninja? Is that a thing?"

"Shuri Himejima," she answered with a teasing curve of her lips. "And yes, Stark, I'm a real kunoichi. The authentic package." She left the rest hanging, as if classified.

Fine by him. He'd watched enough late‑night trashy dubbed anime to know ninjas guarded their secrets like crazy.

Still—holy shit, they were real!

"So, did Pepper send a black‑ops ninja service to pull my ass out of the fire?" he asked hopefully. If so she was getting a HUGE raise!

"I don't know who that is..." Shuri shook her head. "It's hard to explain how I ended up here. My son and I got sucked into… a.. well it's not important. We crashed in the dunes, where I heard all the noise and gunfire. I decided to rush over and investigate."

Tony cleared his throat, the helmet mic amplifying the awkward rasp. "So, uh… are you married? You mentioned a kid...?" Tony could admit that did bum him out a bit, but he'd "dated" plenty of MILFs before, but none like her...

Shuri's lips curled into a slow smirk. "Would that actually bother you? If I was married?"

"Bother? No. But I do prefer my flings knowing whether an angry husband will try and kill me. And if you're from some super secret ninja village he may just succeed." He clanked his metal shoulders in a shrug. "Just running a risk assessment of whether I should keep shooting my shot or not."

"The father of my children never got around to putting a ring on me," she said. "And we've been… geographically separated for a very long time."

Children? As in plural? 

Meh, that still wasn't even close to a deal breaker.

Tony muttered inside the helmet, "Guy must be a certified moron to let a ten‑out‑of‑ten like you walk."

Shuri laughed again—rich, musical, way too pleasant for a cave stacked with bullet‑riddled bodies. Tony felt the sound vibrate through the iron of his helmet and straight into the part of his brain that was rapidly turning him into a simp for a lethal ninja MILF.

"So why were you chained up down here, Tin Man? And who exactly are you? Besides Tony of course," she asked.

Seriously? He blinked behind the visor. "I'm THE Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, inventor, philanthropist—ring any bells?" Cmon, she was killing his ego here!

Shuri cocked an eyebrow. "Should it?"

Ouch. Right in his pride!

"Guess Marketing forgot to buy ad time in ninja country," he muttered. "Is ninja country Japan?" he asked her slyly, trying to find out more information.

"Maybe..." she said coyly.

He'd take that as a yes. Where else would ninjas be from...

He swept an armored hand toward the cooling corpses. "Cliff‑notes version: these pricks grabbed me because I build weapons. They wanted a city‑killer—something that turns zip codes into craters. I told 'em to go fuck themselves." He rapped a knuckle on the dented chest plate. "Built this tin escape pod instead. With my friend Yinsen... He didn't make it," Tony added sadly.

Shuri's smile faded, her violet eyes softened. "I'm sorry about your friend, Stark. He sounds like he met his death with honor."

Tony swallowed around a lump that tasted like iron shavings. "Yeah—thanks—but grieving can wait till we're topside. We should haul ass before the next batch of gun‑toting assholes shows—"

A silvery giggle slipped from her throat, equal parts adorable and fucking terrifying. "There are no more men here."

Tony blinked. "Come again?"

"I killed the rest," she said, perfectly casual. "Ninety‑seven, give or take. After I arrived and found out what kind of MEN they were," she paused and whispered. "she saw bodies of children..."

Ninety‑seven bodies. Jesus tap‑dancing Christ. She wiped out the whole base by herself!? 

"Note to self," he muttered, "never cheat on a ninja MILF." Of course he only said that in his helmet, definitely not out loud for her to hear!

"Before we leave, show me where your friend fell. Before I was a kunoichi I served as a miko priestess. I can give him last rites while his soul still lingers," she explained to him. 

"Souls?" Tony echoed. "As in, actual metaphysical floaty bits?"

"They're real," she said without blinking. "But they don't wait long after death..."

And somehow, through the ringing in his ears after all the gunfire, he believed every damned word she just said.

Tony sure as hell hadn't planned on throwing the Mark I into reverse after his heroic jailbreak, yet the suit groaned backward through the corridor of cooling bodies. Hydraulic joints hissed, spent casings crackled like gravel under his iron boots.

He re‑entered the makeshift workshop that had doubled as a prison for two soul‑sucking months. Yinsen still sat against the rock wall where he'd bled out, with a calm smile on his face.

The armor was far too bulky to kneel, so Tony settled for bowing the giant metal head, servos whining in protest. "I got out, buddy," he said, voice crackling over the external speaker. "Well...not really, but I will soon."

Shuri glided past him. She dropped to her knees beside Yinsen, pressed her palms together, and began chanting in faultless, archaic Japanese—something about guiding a courageous soul across the river of three crossings.

His Japanese was a bit out of practise.

And then... A soft blue silhouette peeled away from Yinsen's chest—faint, but unmistakably his friend. Holy shit… ghosts were on the menu now, too. The apparition met Tony's stunned stare, offered that same encouraging nod, then turned to bow to Shuri.

"Bye Yinsen..." Tony muttered.

When Shuri rose, dusting stray flecks of sand from her kneecaps, the ghost was gone. "His spirit's on the road to somewhere peaceful," she said with certainty.

All Tony could say after that was a quiet, almost reverent, "Thank you." And even that felt inadequate.

His thoughts churned like a busted turbine. Ghosts. Priestesses. Ninjas. Yinsen's soul fading into the ether like some Miyazaki movie. He was in full sensory overload—emotionally fried, spiritually confused, and somehow... still checking out Shuri's ass as she led the way up through the winding cave system.

He wasn't sure whether to be terrified, aroused, or deeply grateful that fate had apparently handed him a weaponized goddess in his most desperate hour. He wasn't counting all 97 bodies as they walked, but there were certainly a lot of them.

Eventually they hit the cave's mouth. Blinding sunlight knifed down from a pitiless sky. Tony groaned as the desert heat slammed into the Mark I like a furnace blast. The armor was already cooking him alive—no cooling system, no ventilation, just old‑school sweat and willpower.

"Jesus, it's like standing in a microwave," he muttered.

Shuri didn't even break a sweat. She moved like the heat didn't touch her—like she belonged to some higher tier of humanity that didn't notice things like temperature or common sense. She gestured him forward, leading him past a boulder into a shaded alcove tucked against a dune.

"There," she said softly. "He's safe."

Tony followed her gaze and felt his brow shoot up behind the steaming visor. "This is your son?" he asked incredulously. The kid was way older than Tony expected—definitely pushing eighteen or nineteen. With chiseled features, styled dark hair, and a lean, athletic build that screamed teen-heartthrob, the kid looked like he belonged on the cover of a high-budget CW drama. "Is he some sort of celebrity I missed while locked in that cave?" Tony asked, genuinely puzzled.

"This is my son, Blake Himejima," Shuri replied, her tone gentle as she gazed fondly at the sleeping young man. Blake wore an outfit similar to hers—sleek, dark ninja-style gear—but significantly less armed to the teeth. Though, Tony noted, the kid definitely appeared roughed up.

Unable to filter his mouth in time, Tony blurted, "So, uh, how exactly do you have a grown-ass kid when you look barely old enough to rent a car yourself?" He winced slightly; smooth, Stark. Real classy.

Instead of offense, Shuri's laughter rippled lightly. "Your eyes aren't lying, Tony. Blake is eighteen, and I'm around twenty-five."

Tony's brain short-circuited momentarily. "That math… doesn't exactly check out."

"Time travel," she said simply, eyes dancing with amusement at his dumbfounded reaction.

"Time travel," Tony repeated dryly, shaking his head. "Of course. Freaking time travel. I mean, why the hell not?"

"You seem skeptical," Shuri teased lightly, a smirk curving her lips.

"Gorgeous, in the past hour, I've met a ninja priestess who annihilated an entire terrorist base single-handedly and performed ghostly last rites. I think my skepticism meter exploded somewhere back around when we passed body number fifty-three," Tony replied. Okay---yes, he had actually been counting the bodies. "I know I shouldn't, but I will literally believe anything you tell me at this point, beautiful. Now, could we possibly find somewhere I can strip this tin can off before I spontaneously combust? This suit is really starting to heat up on me..." 

Shuri was nice enough to help him out with that as he walked her through the steps of getting his armor off.

– Blake –

I heard a familiar voice, warm and gentle, as consciousness crept back into my aching body. "Slow down, Tony. You might make yourself sick."

Another voice, one I didn't recognize at first, chuckled dryly in response. "Trust me, beautiful, this is the first real meal I've had in two goddamn months. There's no way I'll be barfing it back up despite how weak my stomach is..."

I opened my eyes slowly, squinting against the glaring sun filtering through the rocky alcove. My body felt battered and sore, my gear torn and gritty from sand. I brushed a layer of it from my hair, the grains scraping annoyingly against my scalp.

Sitting up, I turned my head toward the voices and immediately felt relief flood through me. My mom was nearby, unharmed and poised gracefully on a smooth stone, helping some battered-looking guy scarf down onigiri and water.

Holy shit—the realization slapped me fully awake. Was that Tony freaking Stark?

"Tony Stark?" My voice came out a croak of disbelief.

Tony stopped mid-chew, his eyes flicking to me with weary amusement. "Huh, at least someone in this family knows who I am." He gave my mom a pointed look and swallowed heavily. "Seriously, gorgeous, your son's clearly the cultured one."

I blinked rapidly, confusion wrestling with awe. "Wait… are we back on Earth?"

Mom smiled softly, nodding her head slightly. "It appears so, Blake."

Tony stared at both of us like we'd started speaking Klingon. "Back on Earth? Hold on a damn second—are you saying this is some fucked-up isekai situation?" He gestured vaguely, incredulously. "On top of the whole ninja shrine priestess time-traveling craziness?"

My mom just flashed Tony a playful smirk. "If you don't want to hear it, I don't have to tell you..."

Tony groaned dramatically, tipping his head back. "God, why not? This day can't possibly get more absurd."

"You'd be very surprised," Shuri told him and then turned back to me. "I'm so glad you're okay, Blake. That tailed beast bomb made my heart stop."

"Mine too," I admitted with a sigh. Running my hand through my black hair. Fuck the two of us had really almost died hadn't we? Those tailed beasts were nothing to fuck with. Even the weakest with only one tail was a walking nuclear chakra reactor.

Tony let out an exhausted sigh, leaning back and scratching idly at his chest. "Look, I have zero fucking clue what either of you are talking about, and my brain is absolutely fried, so save any further mind-bending revelations for later, okay?"

That's when I noticed it—a ragged hole torn into Tony's shirt, revealing a glowing blue device embedded in his chest. I stared, eyes widening slightly in alarm. "Uh, hey, Mr Stark? That thing in your chest doesn't exactly look like it belongs there. Are you…alright?" I stammered, feeling incredibly awkward about questioning the Tony Stark about his own weird, chest-mounted nightlight.

"It's just Tony, kid." Tony glanced down. "Oh, and this lovely accessory? This is just a battery-powered magnet keeping some shrapnel out of my heart. The latest in terrorist cave medical technology."

"Shrapnel in your heart? Damn," I muttered sympathetically. "Maybe a doctor could—"

"Yinsen thought so too," Tony interrupted quietly, eyes briefly clouding over. "But I'm not exactly optimistic that modern medicine will be enough. I trusted my friend and he told me it was...not good."

Without thinking, I blurted out, "Well, my girlfriend Tsunade could definitely fix you up. She's the best medic I know."

Mom interrupted the two of us. "Blake... We don't even know how long it will take for us to find a way back there. For now, let's just think about leaving this desert..." 

I flinched at her words and nodded. Yes, I was back home and happy about that, but not if it meant losing Tsunade and Shizune as well.

No! I had the ability to travel worlds. And although it required a tailed beast's level of power to pull off a second time, it was now proven repeatable! 

I would find a way back to my girls, no matter what!

Tony sighed, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Well, no rush on your end anyway," he said, reaching into the torn remains of his pants pocket and pulling out a battered flip phone. He held it up, a smug grin plastered across his worn face. "I snagged this beauty off one of the terrorists. Figured I'd give Rhodey a call and let him know I'm alive and kicking." He flipped the phone open dramatically, pressing it to speaker and dialing with exaggerated slowness. "Get ready, this is gonna be good," he teased, glancing at both my mom and me. 

The phone barely rang once before a stern, professional voice crackled through. "This is Colonel James Rhodes of the United States Air Force. Identify yourself."

Tony smirked wider, eyes twinkling mischievously. "Rhodey, buddy, did you fucking miss me?"

There was a shocked pause on the other end, then Rhodes practically exploded through the speaker. "Holy shit—Tony? Is that really you?"

Tony chuckled dryly. "Well, it's a slightly less well-fed but equally devastatingly handsome version of me, fresh from a two-month cave vacation courtesy of terrorists."

"Holy shit," Rhodes repeated, incredulous. "Where the hell are you? Wait—never mind, stupid question. I'm tracing your signal right now. Do not hang up, Tony!"

"No rush, Rhodey," Tony drawled. "All the bad guys here are pretty fucking dead, thanks to my new sexy ninja lady friend."

I glared at Tony for that comment while Shuri just giggled. 

Rhodes hesitated, clearly stunned. "I don't even know how to process that. Look—it's damn good to hear your voice, man. We never gave up on you, not me, not Pepper."

Tony softened visibly at that. "Appreciate that, buddy. Means more than you know." He glanced at the battered screen, then added breezily, "Well, see you soon."

"Wait, Tony—stay on the goddamn line!" Rhodes yelled, just as Tony snapped the phone shut with a satisfied smirk.

He turned back to me and Mom, shrugging casually. "So, anyone you two need to call?"

I shook my head slowly, considering. "Nah, I'd like to let my friend Peter know I'm alive, but I think I'll wait until I can call from something that wasn't previously owned by a terrorist."

"Suit yourself," Tony replied, already digging back into the bento Mom had made—my bento, damn it!

As Tony continued shamelessly inhaling my lunch, he suddenly looked up at me with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Hey, Blake, quick question—can I be your new dad?"

I choked so hard on air that I nearly keeled over. "What the hell did you just say?"

Beside me, my mom's cheeks flushed deeply, eyes sparkling with playful amusement as she placed her hands delicately on her cheeks. "Ara ara, how incredibly bold and daring, Tony."

"No way! You can't date my mom," I sputtered, pointing at her dramatically. "She's way too young for you!" My mind short-circuited at the absurdity of the moment, but then something else clicked—something I'd been too distracted to notice earlier. My eyes went wide as realization struck. "Wait, Mom, you're... older again! Holy crap! How did I miss that until now?"

She chuckled lightly, a teasing lilt to her voice. "Ara ara, Blake, where exactly has your head been all this time?"

I sighed heavily, scratching the back of my head. "Too busy worrying about my latest fuck-up involving the invasion, apparently."

Mom approached gently, patting me reassuringly on the shoulder. "It'll be okay, Blake. You did your best. You held off the tailed beast long enough for Tsunade to arrive and save the village."

"So, back to my original question," Tony piped up cheerfully, leaning toward me. "That's a yes to me being your cool new stepdad, right? Your mom mentioned your old man's not exactly in the picture…"

"My dad's a piece of shit who abandoned me," I snapped out bitterly before I could filter myself.

"Hey, look at that!" Tony exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face. "We already have something in common. My dad was an asshole, too. We can bond over mutual daddy issues!"

I couldn't help but snort a laugh. Just then, the distinct sound of approaching helicopters cut through the desert sky.

I glared one last time at Tony. "I know your reputation, if you make her cry I'll stab you." With a Lightspear.

"Hehe… I believe you if you're anything like Shuri," he said.

…What the hell had I missed while I was passed out?

The fact that mom hadn't spoken up against anything Tony had said this whole time meant she WAS interested in him I guess. I imagined after being stuck as a kid for over a decade, not able to date anyone she was going to be pretty pent up—

Nope! 

I was done with those thoughts. That was her business…

For now, I needed to figure out some bullshit cover story for why my mom and I are in the Middle East with Tony Stark.

Tony obviously noticed my furrowed brows though, because he spoke up first. "Hey, don't worry about anything Blake. I've spun more bullshit stories in my time than you can even believe. I've totally got this! I'll cook up the perfect story for the air force when they arrive."

XXX

Yes, Tony Stark is going to be Blake and Akeno's new dad. It has already been decided. :)

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