#and she fits in kind of 'weird' because of it. not at all city enough to fit 100% with joys and not quite desert enough for everyone else

[zone-seven]

Thinking about zones culture...

(Before I get into this, please keep in mind that I see the DD universe as like 75 years removed from the literal apocalypse, so things like communication, transportation, and infrastructure are very different from our modern world, or even the real world 1950s. Add that to extreme poverty, and you get zone dwellers living 'only' 200km apart who don't necessarily know that much about each other first hand.)

Really there is no singular "zones culture". Well, there is in a sense — in the interplay between the collective cultures of the California Desert — but that's nobody's real culture. It's just the natural result of cultures colliding.

This half-real "Zones" culture is little things — like everybody knowing a little bit of English, but not because they speak it for real, just because it's the lingua franca between communities, and between the desert and Battery City. It's using the same ingredients in very different cuisines because those are what's available in this time and climate. It's dressing pretty differently but following similar principles, since everyone lives with the same relentless sun, dust, and drought. It's broad things that came about due to proximity or convenience, not necessarily out of a sense of community.

But then there are smaller, much real-er cultures — local ones, lone ones, town-by-town ones. It does tend to cluster in regions, and there is lots of crossover of course, but each settlement, whether 100 people or 10,000 people, has it's own norms and customs. There's a lot of dead space out there; neutral towns vary wildly in their languages, religions, beliefs, and values... and smart folks will know at least a bit about their immediate neighbours! It's hard not to, to be honest. Life in the desert of California (and maintaining sovereignty from Battery City) requires a decent bit of cooperation and willingness to form alliances.

Some of the biggest towns in the Zones — the few approaching that 10,000 citizens mark — have quite the influence on the settlements around them. The biggest of them even exert influence on the entirety of the Zones, being big enough to support things like newspapers and far-reaching radio stations. Even then, though, people really do value tradition and custom; they've fought tooth and nail to keep it, as did their parents, grandparents, and so on. The city is already after their culture. They're not friendly to people trying to change their ways.

Killjoy culture is a little different.

Killjoy culture, as I'm defining it in my canon, is primarily the culture of ex-citizens of Battery City. Of course, it is also describing a political movement, and these escapees are not totally isolated in their politics, so it also includes some people who were born in the desert. There are plenty of reasons why desert-borns dislike the city, though few take it so far as to join up with killjoys. Similarly, some immigrants from the city have no interest in the political fight and instead do their best to assimilate into (usually) one of the larger towns. Mainly, however, I think about Killjoy culture as being heavily influenced by Battery City, especially in ways that feel very 'un-city' and free to people who once lived there, but feel restrictive and extremely 'city' to anyone desert-born. It's sort of separate from the cultures of desert towns as a whole, because they do not interact nearly as much or on as good terms. Neutrals don't have the sort of wariness with each other as they do with 'joys.

So, I think killjoy culture is sort of false in the same way that "zones culture" is false. It exists, but it's built first and foremost around something other than its people. Well, that combined with whatever scraps of Old World (pre apocalypse) culture their family in the city managed to keep. Very “killjoy” to have one-of-a-kind cobbled together cultures like that.

Killjoys do have a sense of community, though neutrals often miss this because killjoy community looks different than theirs. Killjoys are often rather nomadic, and they're always scattered. A lot of their culture is in media, and in folklore, and in the few events that are important enough for mass gatherings. Different than typical zones folklore, which often follows certain themes — killjoy folklore is heavily influenced by lobby culture, including a lot of droid religion.

But folklore is another topic…

[weebsinstash]

As much as I strongly dislike when a series kind of "cages" the self insert/OC potential of its audience, it's becoming pretty clear that there's a certain level of pre-determined-ness to Sinners and their appearances, almost to the point it's vaguely implied entire sections of Pentagram City are like, ethnically/visually distinct and that every character we see fits into some sort of category and resembles other people. There's an Overlord who's a giant raptor dinosaur and there are other dinosaur Sinners (and also she's like the club/rave based overlord and even has a business, Klub Kaiju, interesting). Valentino is a moth and there are other moths and different bugs like spiders. In the most recent episode showing flashbacks of Hell in Alastor's past, there was a past female Overlord who had the same multi-toned angular swirling hair as Velvette does. In Vox's studio in episode two, he has members of staff that are visually similar to his own aesthetic. Even up in Heaven, Angel's sister Molly still has her spider aesthetic with a halo and cherub wings

so, i guess, to go where I'm ACTUALLY going with this post.... Moth Reader who winds up catching Valentino's eyes because "oh wow we're both moths, isn't that cute" and it escalates into him seeing you as his property, ESPECIALLY if you also have weird drugging/pheromone powers like him

Like can you imagine it? You smack down into the city while he's like having lunch at a cafe or his limo is parked at a light and you're standing up all confused and helpless and cute, hugging yourself as you look around this loud violent scary new place, and you two wind up making exact eye contact and he can tell you're crying and scared, easy prey. Could you picture Reader's equivalent of his coat being that you're in a little hoodie or jacket or shawl and it just unwraps while you're sitting with him. Idk. You accidentally inhale some of his smoke and just give a cute little sneeze and your antenna and your wings are all just poofing out, you basically just equipped that shit from your inventory. On the fence if Reader would have chest fur but maybe your hair hair is really big and long and silky

Moth Reader having eye spots on their wings that can lull someone into hypnosis, or you have some sort of pheromone that makes people weak to your demands, maybe even horny for you, like some mind controlling queen bee ordering her drones. Val's in the bathroom and some creep grabs you and all of a sudden your antenna twitch and his face gets hit with a little puff of 'dust' and suddenly he's letting go of you, "oh my gosh sweetie I am so sorry, here, take all the money in my wallet, you deserve it, I'm so sorry queen, I'm gonna go jump into traffic, sorry queen, sorry, sorry, im a worm, sorry, sorry"

Valentino having unique reactions to your "pollen" as another moth or at least an addict with a tolerance. He buries his face in your neck so you "poof" him on purpose and he's just hotboxing your scent and getting high and horny while you're struggling and squealing. He forces you to use your powers on him and others so they can feel happy and high. At some point he may even force you to keep producing the powder so he can sell it as a drug or a product and at that point you're BIG INCOME for him, he might as well carry you around like his personal vape pen

Like. Can you even imagine "oh yeah Im super lucky enough that i have these powers to protect myself and potentially manipulate others" and you think you're safe and untouchable and this man is like using his fucking credit card to shift your powder into lines to snort it like a rail of cocaine. You can turn "normal" Sinners into your helpless pawns but it loses effectiveness the stronger the person is and this man is like HOTBOXING your shit, all but passing out on the couch with you in his arms in pure drug seeking unrestrained bliss. And then he fucks ya cause I mean, it's YOUR fault he's all hot and bothered now isn't it?

Just Reader not even knowing how much danger they're in because you just got here and have no idea who this guy is and you're just spinning around looking at your new appearance and flapping your little wings and maybe you can even float or fly a little bit, all happy, big big smiles, being all "oh my gosh this is so cool, I feel so cute ^^" and you don't even realize you're practically modeling yourself on a runway to one very, VERY interested customer...

[stylespresleyhearted]

POV: YOU’RE DATING CALLUM TURNER

pt. ✌🏻

liked by fan23, user12, and 1923 others

cturnerupdates Cal & Y/N spotted at a cafe in Paris today - March 23, 2024

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fan12 I SHIP IT BUT IM JEALOUS

y/nfan two lovers in the city of love 🥹 fitting ♥️

user23 I’m calling it now these two are gonna be it for each other. They’re end game.

yourinstagram that’s the goal🥹

liked by yourinstagram, austinbutler and 15,713 others

keoghan92 Context: Cal taking his bird away because we were apparently “pissed ” 🙄

Photo credit - me 🫡

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anthonyboyle baftas are always a fun night eh?

yourinstagram he saved your ass, i had you!!!

keoghan92 love I’ll out drink you any day

yourinstagram tbh we weren’t even that drunk

rafflaw you were crying cus you “lost��� your boyfriend but he was holding your hand the entire time and barry thought the stalls were narnia entry

keoghan92 that’s a solid night mate

fan23 damn y/n looks good

yourinstagram tits out & every thang 🤗

keoghan92 Oi her heads big enough

liked by enews, yourfriendsig, and 5,391 others

yourinstagram trying to enjoy my lunch but this weird (cute) guy won’t stop bothering me (i love him)

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user12 i need to know what its like to be her

fan23 callum is so down bad for her #relatable

fan21 what did she cover up 👀

yourinstagram lol just cal being cheeky

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yourinstagram hi handsome ♥️

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fan23 THE WAY HE’S LOOKING AT HER 🙌🏼😭😭

user68 i wonder if he’s aware how many photos she takes of him and she posts them all its weird

yourfriendsig lmao trust he’s aware & he’s obsessed when it comes to y/n

fan21 ppl see shit on the internet & think they know everything ugh 😑

yourinstagram guys let’s all be nice and enjoy looking at my beautiful boyfriend! 😍

liked by yourinstagram and 38175 others

jimmyfallonshow Tune in tonight 10/11 CT to witness Callum Turner swoon over ‘amazing’ girlfriend 💕 ….

When asked if he’s aware how iconic she’s become on social media he said he’s well aware and he isn’t at all surprised before divulging to Jimmy “she’s the one.” 💍 👀

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user23 After watching the interview I’m 100% convinced he’s the golden retriever and she’s the black cat. Y/N loves him but gosh … the way he was talking about her and looking at her?

fan13 IMA CRY ITS NOT LETTING ME WATCH SOMEONE SHARE

y/nupdates It starts with Callum sharing a joke and Jimmy didn’t laugh but Y/N did from the crowd 😂 Callum recognized her laugh and said “thanks baby” and then that’s when Jimmy asked about her IG fame. Callum said “she’s the one man - we aren’t worried about that.” When Jimmy asked how they deal with the attention.

user12 starting to wonder if they’re secretly married/engaged

fan31 Nah and I think it’s beautiful even though they’re aware they are it for each other she’s willing to wait and support him as he enters a new kind of fame

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yourinstagram Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy - 🥵

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callumfan Y/N PLSSSSSS I CANNNOOOTTT

user41 girllll yes !!!!

fan53 can i please be you???

user91 ur man is so daddy he’s fire

user33 Y/N and Callum daddy kink confirmed

keoghan92 That’s what we called him on set

yourinstagram back off my man barry

rafflaw … we really did though

liked by austinbutler, yourinstagram, and 58194 others

drewbarrymoreshow Hilarious, gorgeous, and kind — yes these guys, but I was referring to the star of tonight’s show Callum Turner’s girlfriend. Her Instagram page is one of my favorite’s, tune in to watch me fan girl over three stars tonight.

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yourinstagram unreal !! i adore you !!❤️❤️

drewbarrymoreshow Text me for our date night 🤗

fan23 everyone loves y/n it’s beautiful to see someone being praised when they’re authentically themselves

user12 shoulda interviewed her too

drewbarrymooreshow 🌚

liked by austinbutler, camilamorrone, and 43817 others

yourinstagram Y/N by me (Cal) 💍♥️😍

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fan31 HIS EMOJI USE?!?? rip me

user12 im gonna cry she’s so smol he’s so tol

fan23 Cal make your own page!!! We know it’ll just be Y/N and we’re okay with it!!! It’s what we want tbh !!!

keoghan92 “why the fuck are you taking a photo” is what she was mid saying

user25 omg he probably crushes her she’s tiny it’s great

liked by zendaya, austinbutler, and 65189 others

yourinstagram 🥹

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fan23 ugh the height difference kills me

user12 they’re so in love it makes me happy

fan33 I believe in love because of them tbh

fan67 idk how he hasn’t popped the question yet

liked by fan21, user33, and 19278 others

cturnerupdates Callum spotted with Y/N and his mother in London back in Feb for his birthday. The group had a picnic at the park and Callum’s mother even braided her hair — Feb 19, 2024

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user13 ohhhh he’s gonna be a girl dad fs

fan54 she’s got the momma’s stamp approval it’s gonna happen

user23 what i wouldn’t give to be his gf and have a picnic w him at the park and have his mom braid my hair

fan56 Is anyone gonna talk about how he’s looking at her? 🥹🥹😍 Definition of heart eyes

————

I’m so down bad for this man so I really couldn’t resist making another one. He’s handsome and charming and manly and ughhhhh kill me!

P.S slight FC use of Olivia Dejonge. Not only is she gorgeous but she’s so smol and I find it so beautiful, especially with how large he is. Needed that picture for a specific use to help identify the size difference between the two but feel free to keep imagining whoever. He’s dated Vanessa Kirby and Dua Lipa so the hair color constantly changes in pics 😭

Don’t have a tag list but thanks to everyone for all the love, hope ya’ll enjoy this one as well 💕

[mercy-burning]

(1) the landlord. || THE DOCTOR.

in which the landlord sets off to bring the doctor out of his shell and acquaint him with the town. content: strong language, inebriation

word count: 3.1k

series masterlist || main masterlist

———

Four snowfalls have graced Sardinia in the past month, and Y/N is starting to wonder if the poor doctor had gotten stuck in his house, or even frozen to death outside. With limbs thinner than the pine needles scattered all through town, he's probably snapped in several places. She jokingly wonders if she'll see dismembered fingers and legs in his yard, but finds that in actuality, Winter has seemed to treat the doctor well.

At least, well enough to where he can handle the yard.

There's a clear, albeit jagged, pathway from the gravel road to the front door, and even the narrow driveway and the pale vintage Wagoneer parked in the middle of it aren't completely caked in white. It's not perfect by any means, but good enough to get you on the move in a hurry. Kind of important for an on-call doctor.

That being said, no one has seen him in almost a month.

News doesn't take long to travel, especially regarding new and important residents since they only come around once in a blue moon, and still, not a single visit. No stories, no "I heard"s, no calls... Whether it's a testament to the population's good health or unwillingness to let in the new remains to be seen. And as a lifelong resident of Sardinia and landlord to the new doctor, Mayor Stanton has tasked Y/N to get him out and about to get things back to a sort-of-normal.

Either he'll get settled in and fit in nicely, or everyone is going to ask for a trade-in. She hopes it's the former, because a repeat of The Revolving Arsenal of Dentists sounds like an absolute nightmare, but even if it ends up being a disaster, anything would be better than this limbo of not knowing. It's like a tarp of tension has settled over the top of Sardinia and trapped everyone underneath. It's a weird feeling that Y/N hopes will go away after today. If not to bring the doctor out of his shell and into public, then to relay information about him or his credentials to get everyone more comfortable with his presence.

She's also decided he isn't horrible to look at.

Not that that's relevant...

She knocks on the door three times, loud and staccato. Her knuckles sting at the contact and she holds back a hiss, hearing her late grandmother's trill warning, "You've lived here all your life, Moonface, you know better than to do anything outside without gloves!" It's true, but this is the only stop she has to make today, and then she's determined to go back to the safety of her own home and live out the rest of her 'day off' in peace.

"Doctor Reid, are you home?"

The door swings open in only a few seconds, and the doctor appears before her, a soft smile adorning his perfectly sculpted city-boy face. They don't have faces like those in Sardinia... "Oh, Y/N, hi... Is everything alright?"

"No. Uh... I mean, yes. No one's sick or injured or anything. But no. Everyone in town is just reasonably hesitant about a stranger being their primary care provider, so we thought it would be best to... Help you get acquainted with Sardinia. We wanted to—"

"We?" he prompts with an arched brow, looking over her shoulder.

"Everyone," Y/N answers dumbfounded, and suddenly a little irritated that he interrupted her.

He blinks for a few seconds, seemingly unsure whether or not she's being serious, and then breathes out a laugh, a small cloud forming in front of her eyes. It annoys her for some reason, and she swats in front of her face, trying to get his essence away from her.

"Why don't you come inside? It's cold out today," the doctor says, stepping aside to make room.

Y/N shifts and places her hands on her hips. "The thing about this town is that we know almost everything about everyone. I'm not saying you should read us your diary, Doctor, but Mayor Stanton and everyone else who came to the town meeting last night agree that you should come out and introduce yourself to some of our residents. It might help them warm up to you. So—"

"Here, you should really come inside."

"Why do you keep interrupting me?"

"You're bleeding."

Doctor Reid nods down towards Y/N's feet, where drops of crimson stick out against the snow like a murder scene, and she frantically looks down at her knuckles, which had, in fact, cracked open against the door.

"Shit," she hisses, shoving her hand in her pocket. "I should go take care of this. Sorry to bleed all over your porch."

"Y/N, it's what I'm here for. Let me clean you up. Please, come inside?"

Despite the deep embarrassment she's feeling, she agrees and steps into the small cabin home, instantly twitching her nose at how different the space smells after only a month. Not in a bad way, of course. It went from a near-abandoned basement-smelling fixer-upper to a homely winter vacation residency in such a short time, it's almost impressive.

You sure do take your time settling in...

The doctor laughs, and Y/N realizes she'd said it out loud, feeling embarrassed again as she removes her coat and drapes it over the coat rack.

"Forgive me. I'm used to train stations and apartment buildings, this is all very new."

She turns and can't quite meet his eye. "I'm sorry. I want to say I can understand, but I've lived here all my life, so... Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for. Have a seat, I'll get you fixed up here in just a second." It sounds like he's smiling, but she wouldn't know. She refuses to look at him.

"Well, you've made the place look very nice," she says, trying for some recovery. "To be honest I wasn't really sure if it'd be livable. I've been working on it for almost a year, but Stanton deemed it 'good enough' and I just hoped he was right." Especially since I scrubbed the fuck out of these floors for days... If there had to be one perfect thing about this place, it was going to be a shiny foundation to walk upon...

"Well, then I'm glad you like what you see."

She can't tell if the words hold playful suggestion or if she's just really gone that long without a fling. Suddenly the room is hot, and she wishes she'd just turned around and left the doctor alone.

When he touches her hand, she jumps, and he pulls back. "I didn't mean to scare you," he says with a laugh, reaching for her hand again and getting to work cleaning the wound.

The floor is suddenly very eye-catching despite how it hasn't changed at all. The hardwood is swept nearly to perfection without so much as a speck of dust, and in a way she's relieved to know he keeps the house as clean as she keeps her own. If nothing else, the Landlord/Tenant relationship should be a solid one.

"Can I ask where you studied medicine?"

Another laugh from him. She's starting to really dislike those...

"Gathering information to relay to Everyone, are you?"

"No," she exaggerates. Her eyes flick upwards to see him and almost retreat immediately. He's looking straight at her with amusement dancing over his features. "I just... I'd like to know my doctor's credentials, that's all."

"Hmmm. Understandable." He finishes cleaning her cracked knuckles, starting to apply gauze.

He doesn't answer, though, and Y/N sighs. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

"There's nothing wrong with being curious, Y/N... And... I understand, there's probably some... uncertainty about inviting a total stranger to be the town doctor. I apologize to you, and to Everyone, for being elusive. But I haven't been this far away from home in a long time, and it's taking me a little longer than I'd like to... make myself at home, so to speak."

His vulnerability is a shock, and suddenly Y/N feels terrible about bombarding him, so she softly squeezes his hand, since he hadn't let go of it after taping up the gauze like a metaphorical bow on top. She even manages to hold his gaze for longer than a millisecond, feeling herself warm involuntarily at the tenderness he's exuding.

"You don't have to apologize," she tells him earnestly. "Sardinia is lucky to have you."

Doctor Reid smiles and squeezes her hand back before letting go and turning to put away his first-aid kit.

The moment had passed just as quickly as it came. No Thank You? Not even a nod of thanks?

Y/N huffs and stands, walking to her coat. "Sorry again for bleeding all over your porch. And thank you for the help. Everyone is eagerly awaiting to meet you, so don't be a stranger. Stanton sent me here to invite you to BAR for dinner and a tour of the town. I told him that might be a little lame, but he insisted, so... Show up if you want to. I'll be there at 6, but I'm sure Stanton will be there all day in the event that you decide you just can't wait for a town tour."

All enthusiasm has left her voice in favor of sarcasm as she dresses and reaches for the front door. She's ready to put the doctor and his first-aid kit in the past, and then he calls out her name, stopping her in her tracks.

"Tell Everyone the answer is Johns Hopkins."

Y/N raises an eyebrow, confused for a split second before her question echoes in the back of her mind. Can I ask where you studied medicine?

She finds herself throwing one of his laughs right back at him. "Tell them yourself, Doctor."

And then she opens the door and meets the bright white Alaskan winter, unaware of the shit-eating grin he wears on his face behind her.

———

Dear Mom,

My landlord, Y/N, came to visit me today. My first patient in Sardinia. I'm not sure what type of omen that is, considering I'm pretty sure she's the most easily irritable person I've ever met, but... She is also my landlord, so maybe I shouldn't push her buttons. The last thing I need is an eviction in a town that may as well be the living equivalent of an eviction itself.

I digress.

She and Mayor Stanton want me to come into town tonight for dinner and a tour of Sardinia, which I can't imagine will last very long unless we go underground somewhere or I end up being interrogated—I mean interviewed—by every single person who lives here.

I'm really trying to settle in and make myself comfortable, but... I miss home. I miss my family. I miss you.

Starting over always sounds like the perfect plan, but in all honesty, it's exhausting. Clean slates are too clean. There's room for all sorts of lies, like telling your landlord you studied medicine at Johns Hopkins when you haven't academically studied medicine at all. Soon everyone in town will know, and the giant lie I've been living in will only grow deeper until I can't reach the bottom and I drown.

I don't know what to do, Mom. I wish you were here to give me some advice, or even just some comfort.

For now though, I suppose I'll get ready, for dinner at a place called "BAR". I hope it's an acronym for something.

———

"Very creative, Sardinia..."

Spencer sighs and shakes his head amusedly as he pulls up to the town's supposed "only restaurant". He won't know until he walks inside, but there's a sarcastic feeling he can't shake, that BAR isn't actually a restaurant.

Plowed snow crunches gently under his feet as he shuts the door to his hand-me-down Wagoneer, and the sun has set to the point of near-dark. Against the snow, it casts Downtown Sardinia in a purple tint that feels desolate and liminal. The bright neon BAR sign blinks green, giving the street a little bit of life, but not much. He imagines it's probably more lively during the day.

Spencer focuses on breathing in the sharp cool air before bracing himself for the inside of his dinner destination.

He's surprised (and admittedly relieved) to discover that BAR is truly a healthy half-and-half concession of bar and restaurant. Booths and tables stretch over the entire floor, each one practically full, with families and singles and groups of friends. Despite the snow outside and the multi-colored Christmas lights wrapped around the high ceiling beams and on every pillar one could possibly spot, he's grateful for the lack of Christmas music in November.

The bell above the door rings as he steps inside, and a few heads turn. The man behind the bar looks out to Spencer, and then to two individuals seated in front of him with a nod. Y/N and Stanton turn around, the former with a quirked eyebrow and the latter with an energetic wave and a bellowing "Doctor! Welcome in!"

It wasn't enough to silence the establishment, but there's enough of a shift in volume that Spencer feels on the spot, warming under everyone's scrutiny. He decides to ignore it, smiling as brightly as he can to the mayor and weaving through tables to approach him.

"Lovely to see you again, my boy!" Stanton greets with a firm hand to the shoulder. He has to stand up on the edge of the bottom of the bar chair to reach, and Y/N nearly falls to the ground trying to steady him.

"Stan, sit down!" the barman scolds. "If you fall and bust your head on the bar again, I'm putting it on your tab."

Spencer swears he almost sees Y/N loosen her grip on the mayor, a hint of consideration flashing behind her eyes. The thought makes him laugh.

"Don't worry, I've got a steady hand," Spencer offers, taking the burden from his landlord and helping Stanton down into his chair. He's obviously pretty inebriated, though it wouldn't be a surprise to learn that he always is in some capacity.

"Right. Sardinia's new doctor, in the flesh."

Stanton chugs the last of his bottle and smiles at the barman. "Sonny, this is Spencer Reid. Doctor Reid, this is Sonny, the best bartender Sardinia has to offer."

"I'm the only bartender Sardinia has to offer," Sonny counters, but he smiles anyway. "But I have the best team ready to cook up whatever you're hungry for. What'll it be, Doctor? You want a menu?"

"Umm... Sure, a menu sounds great."

Stanton scoots over to another stool, slapping his palm down on the one he was just in. "Sit, Doctor! Make yourself at home!"

Home, he thinks somberly as he sits down, only slightly uncomfortable by how warm the seat is. I suppose this really is my home for the next... He doesn't even know how long he'll be in Sardinia. There's no predicted timeline for any of it. No way to know how soon he can go back to his regular life.

"Y/N came to visit you, I see," Stanton says, drunken suggestion dripping from every word. "I sure hope she didn't injure herself on purpose just to scope out the new help..."

"Stan," she sighs, sliding her menu over to Spencer. Red-faced at the mayor's insinuation, he glances down at her hand, which is still wrapped. "If I were going to injure myself on purpose for the sake of a man, it wouldn't be in Sardinia."

His gaze lingers on her a little too long, like a challenge, until she notices and scoots off the chair. "I'm gonna use the restroom. Excuse me, boys."

Stanton waves her off, and Spencer watches her path to the far corner of the room until she disappears, and he's forced to look down at the menu.

He settles on a cheeseburger and fries, and gets an odd look from Sonny when he orders an iced sweet tea instead of beer.

"Not a drinker?" the mayor asks.

"Not really... Plus, I am an on-call doctor now, so being under the influence probably doesn't give a good first impression."

"How true that is! I knew I liked you, Doctor," Stanton bellows, breaking apart a peanut from the dish in front of him.

"Please, call me Spencer."

"Nonsense! First names are for strangers. You're part of the Sardinia family now, and an important one at that. Doctor is a fine title, so keep it you shall!"

He doesn't see the point in arguing with him, but he also wishes he'd stop speaking like a character from a 40s movie. It's taking him out of an already foreign atmosphere he's trying to adjust to.

Part of him wishes Y/N would come back quickly to tether him to normalcy. Despite the obvious distaste she has for him and his innate inability to keep down his nervous laughter when she's around, his morning with her had him craving good, quick conversation since she left. She's witty and snappy, and his years of profiling have led him to believe there's something beautiful hiding under that cold exterior she has.

He kind of wants to keep digging until he finds what it is.

But, as it stands, she is his landlord, and he gets the feeling that one wrong move could have him sleeping outside. Perhaps on a frozen body of water where no one will ever find him.

She returns just after Sonny serves up Spencer's plate, and before he can do anything with it, she reaches over and steals a fry before taking the coat draped over the back of her chair.

"And where do you think you're going?" Stanton questions. "There's still a tour to be had!"

Y/N smiles. "Stan, if Sonny's the best bartender Sardinia has to offer, then you're the best tour guide. You don't need me for anything. Doctor Reid is in good hands." She looks at him and he almost crumbles under the weight of mischief in her eyes, like she's read his mind and became determined to pawn him off to the drunken mayor as some sort of game. A part of him wishes he could play along and convince her to stay, but all he can do is watch as she throws her jacket on over her arms and turns to the barman. "Thanks for dinner, Sonny," she says brightly. "It was a ten out of ten, as always."

"A pleasure, Moonface, as always," Sonny throws back with a smirk, and Y/N groans.

"When are you all gonna let that go?"

"Never," Sonny and Stanton, and another woman at the bar seated next to her, offer in unison.

Spencer can't help but smile at the inside joke he knows nothing of. It's like he's back home, roped into watching a sit-com with Penelope half-way through the season where he doesn't quite yet understand everyone's backstories and dynamics. Only, this time he actually finds himself eager to figure it out.

Y/N zips up her jacket and steals another fry before she bounds off, the bell chiming after her.

Even with a plate full of food gone in about twenty minutes, Spencer still feels a lingering hunger.

[amethystarachnid]

May I be so bold to ask for a fic?

PLATONIC Modern day reader gets sent back in time/ universe to the avengers.

Life is going as expected now that they have taken her in, yes even though she’s 21 in a Time were she supposed to be 10 years old is weird, you get used to it.

Imagine though it’s the middle of the battle of New York, all of a sudden JARVIS says you appear to be having a panic attack based on your vitals, and he cant see you due to the cameras on the floor being down.

Now everyone thinks this is a Tony kind of panic attack, so imagine the surprise when they see reader flying down in a half put together Ironman suit (boots chest gloves and helmet) swinging a metal baseball bat at some aliens with thunderstruck playing in the back.

Tony- “that’s my girl!!!”

Bonus if Tony from the future (when they all went back in time) sees the reader and just cry’s a little bit an still cheering goes “that’s my little girl”

I never see fics with people that are used to getting random panic attacks and are pretty good at handling it.

TIME TRAVELER

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, fluff, a little angst

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 8.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: just what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): time traveling, panic attack but well handled

ᯓ★ I really hope you like the story because I had some troubles understanding what you meant in your ask, but I tried my best and hope you like it! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

You know something is wrong the moment you open your eyes.

You’re lying on your back, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, one that’s definitely not yours. Gone are the grey metal slabs and dusty air filters of the Avengers compound. In their place is something sleek, futuristic even, a ceiling lined with recessed lights and small silver vents, like it’s from a science fiction movie. The air smells new—no, it smells like money. It’s a rich, clean scent, faintly mixed with the lingering aroma of coffee and a trace of cologne.

You sit up, groggy, disoriented, the faint ache of too many sleepless nights reminding you that, yes, everything that happened—the Snap, the losses, the grief—all of that was real.

Or… was it?

No. You refuse to entertain the thought that you might’ve dreamed up a whole nightmare. But something is definitely wrong, because the last thing you remember is… being in the lab. You and the others had been there, going over the latest quantum research to get everyone back. And then—nothing. Just a sudden, blinding light and then… this place.

Panic grips you as you swing your legs off the bed and take a look around. The room itself is lavish. Glass walls line one side, letting sunlight stream in with an almost blinding intensity. Beyond the glass, you can make out the towering skyline of New York City in the daylight. Which, given the circumstances, feels strange enough—when’s the last time you saw anything but darkness or emergency lights back at the compound?

Trying to gather your thoughts, you push yourself to your feet, glancing down at your clothing. You’re dressed… strangely. Not in the clothes you put on yesterday, but a loose-fitting T-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants that don’t belong to you. You reach up, patting your hair, finding it slightly mussed, like you just woke up from a long, unplanned nap.

Your pulse quickens. Nothing about this makes sense.

A soft click behind you sends you whirling around, only to see the glass door to the room slide open. In strides Tony Stark—unmistakable with his confident swagger, his trademark Iron Man T-shirt, and a curious gleam in his eye. But it’s not the Tony Stark you’ve come to know in these last few years of grief and recovery, the one who’d been almost completely worn down by the fight to fix the world. No—this Tony looks younger, brighter, with sharper edges and that familiar arrogant smirk that makes your breath hitch.

He stops in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he gives you an appraising look. “So,” he says, drawing out the word, “you gonna explain why you were taking an unscheduled nap in one of my guest rooms?”

There’s no warmth, no familiarity in his tone. And why would there be? You realize, heart pounding, that this isn’t just any Tony Stark. This is 2012 Tony Stark.

You swallow, trying to keep the panic from spilling over. This is impossible. You’d read up on every theory, every bizarre scenario Doctor Strange and Bruce had briefed you on, but none of them involved anything like this.

“I… I think there’s been a mistake,” you manage to stammer, knowing just how lame it sounds, and yet not knowing what else to say.

“A mistake?” Tony raises an eyebrow, stepping fully into the room, hands on his hips. “Right. A mistake. So, just to clarify, you, a complete stranger, just happened to show up in my guest room, dressed in pajamas I definitely didn’t provide, as part of some cosmic mistake?”

You nod slowly, your throat dry as you search for words. “Yes,” you say quietly. “I mean, no. I mean… I don’t know.” You close your eyes, willing your brain to function. “The last thing I remember, I was in the Avengers compound, in 2023.”

“2023?” he repeats, his eyebrows shooting up. “Okay, so now we’re time traveling. Makes total sense.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, but his eyes are sharper than ever, scrutinizing every detail of you. “All right, let’s go with that. What’s your name, Miss 2023?”

You blink, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. You hadn’t expected the encounter to go this way—hadn’t even expected to have an encounter like this at all. “(Y/N),” you say finally. “My name is (Y/N).”

He gives a thoughtful nod. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N) from the future. I’m Tony Stark, but you already knew that.” He pauses, giving you a look that’s equal parts amused and wary. “So, mind telling me how you got here?”

“That’s… the thing,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t know. I was working on some experiments with quantum mechanics, and there was this… flash of light, and then I was just here.” You glance around, realizing that it feels just as bizarre to you as it probably does to him. “And I didn’t… I mean, I didn’t think I’d end up here. Or end up… meeting you.”

The smirk fades from his face, replaced by something more guarded. “Quantum mechanics, huh?” He crosses his arms again, his expression growing serious. “Let’s pretend, just for fun, that what you’re saying is possible. That you somehow popped out of 2023, dodging all kinds of laws of physics, and ended up here. Which, by the way, happens to be 2012. Care to explain why?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, feeling more and more vulnerable with each word. “All I know is that something went wrong. The tech we were working with… it’s not fully stable yet. It could have triggered something, maybe even pulled me into some kind of anomaly.” You stop, trying to read his reaction, but he’s impossible to read, his face completely inscrutable.

“An anomaly,” he echoes, almost thoughtfully. For a second, his expression softens, like he’s trying to imagine what you’re describing, before he snaps back to his usual, unflappable self. “Well, (Y/N), welcome to the past. I’d offer you a drink, but something tells me you might not be in the mood.”

You exhale sharply, trying to resist the urge to pace. “This doesn’t make sense. I don’t belong here. This is years before… before everything. Before the Battle of New York, before the Avengers Initiative really took off.” You pause, your eyes widening. “Wait, you haven’t… You haven’t even gone through that yet?”

“Not sure how much of my life you think you know,” he says, quirking an eyebrow, “but yeah, the big alien invasion hasn’t exactly been penciled into my calendar yet.”

You swallow, feeling the weight of your situation settle even heavier around you. This isn’t just a strange turn of events. You’re in a different reality, back in the days when the Avengers barely knew each other. Tony hasn’t even faced Loki yet; the wounds from that invasion haven’t left their mark on him.

“Tony, I… I think I’ve gone back in time,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Congratulations,” he says with a humorless chuckle. “Now, that’s a party trick I’d actually like to know about.”

As he studies you, his gaze sharpens, like he’s considering what to do with you. But then his phone buzzes, and he glances down at the screen, momentarily distracted. It’s just enough for you to get your bearings.

Taking a deep breath, you try to focus, to think of what Doctor Strange would say, what he might suggest in a situation like this. He always had a contingency plan—always had a way of approaching the impossible with a methodical mind.

“So,” Tony says, tucking his phone away and turning his attention back to you. “I take it you’ve got a rough idea of what happens next in my life?”

Your hesitation must be clear, because he holds up a hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking for spoilers. Just… let’s say, hypothetically, I’m not as skeptical as I’m letting on.”

It’s clear he’s testing you, trying to see if you’ll slip up, if you’ll give away some hidden detail about the future. You can almost see the wheels turning behind those dark, piercing eyes, and you’re caught between two urges—to convince him of the truth and to protect him from it. How much can you tell him? How much should you tell him?

“I know enough,” you answer cautiously. “Enough to know that this could be dangerous. And that I need to get back. I don’t belong here.”

“Well,” he says, gesturing around the room, “you’re here now. And if you’re really from the future, then there’s a reason for that. If you’ve got even a single thread of an idea of how to reverse this little slip through time, I’d suggest you hold onto it, because as far as I know, I don’t have any quick fixes for ‘accidental time travel.’”

He’s right, of course. No matter how much you might wish it, there’s no easy answer. And for the first time, you realize that you’re truly, utterly out of your depth. You’re in 2012. The Tony Stark you know isn’t quite this Tony Stark, and the Avengers are far from the team they eventually become.

But as you meet Tony’s gaze, you can’t help but feel a strange, almost unexplainable reassurance. This is Tony Stark, after all. The same man who built a suit of armor in a cave, who can adapt to anything life throws his way. If anyone’s going to help you figure this out, it’s him.

“All right, then,” you say softly, a hint of determination in your voice. “Let’s figure this out.”

And just like that, Tony Stark—the 2012 version, at least—gives you a faint, approving smirk.

“Well, time traveler,” he says, almost affectionately, “welcome to the club.”

Absolutely! Let’s continue this and dig deeper into the tension and awe of meeting the Avengers in their early days. Here’s the next section for you:

It doesn’t take long for Tony to inform Nick Fury of your strange arrival, though you’re not sure if he’s calling it in as an “emergency” or just sheer curiosity. By the next morning, Tony’s guiding you down a hallway of Stark Tower toward a conference room, giving you little more than a reassuring nod and a devilish smirk as he leads the way.

"Just be yourself,” he says with mock encouragement. “They’re all a bit paranoid, but we’ll work with it.”

The thought of meeting them—the Avengers, as they were in 2012—stirs something inside you, both excitement and dread. It’s impossible not to feel overwhelmed at the prospect of facing the familiar faces you know from the world after the Snap, but now stripped of the experiences and battles that hardened them. You remind yourself not to expect too much, to remember they’re different versions of themselves here—strangers, almost. As you take a deep breath to steady yourself, you can already hear Fury’s voice from down the hall, smooth and commanding.

Tony holds the door open for you, a smirk lingering on his lips. “After you, time traveler.”

You step inside, and Nick Fury’s one good eye pins you with a look so intense you feel almost frozen in place. Dressed in his black trench coat, with his signature eyepatch, Fury’s gaze alone is enough to confirm that he’s as imposing as ever. Standing around the room, waiting with a mix of skepticism and curiosity, are the other original Avengers: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, and Clint Barton.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Fury begins without preamble. “I don’t know who you are, where you came from, or what kind of science experiment brought you here. But Stark seems to think you’re worth our time, so I’ll give you a chance to explain yourself.”

Every gaze is trained on you, and suddenly, all the things you had been preparing to say feel like sand slipping through your fingers. You glance at Tony, who only offers you a shrug and a faintly amused smile. He’s enjoying this, clearly.

You clear your throat. “My name is (Y/N). And I’m… Well, I’m not exactly from here. I’m from a different time. The year 2023, to be exact.”

There’s a palpable tension in the room as you speak, each Avenger processing your words in their own way. You can feel Steve Rogers watching you, eyes sharp and calculating as he assesses you, while Natasha leans back in her chair, a faint smirk playing on her lips, more curious than suspicious.

Bruce steps forward cautiously. “You’re from the future?”

You nod slowly, feeling the weight of their disbelief. “It wasn’t intentional, believe me. I was working on a project with… well, with Tony and some of the others. Something must have gone wrong, because the next thing I knew, I was here.”

“Time travel,” Clint scoffs, crossing his arms as he narrows his eyes at you. “Sounds like something out of a bad sci-fi movie.”

“It does,” you agree. “Believe me, this isn’t exactly how I wanted to start my week either.”

Fury’s brow furrows as he studies you intently. “If what you’re saying is true, you know things about the future. Events. People.”

There’s a pause. You know the answer he’s looking for, and you’re prepared to give it. But the thought of revealing too much, of saying the wrong thing… You don’t know what kind of impact it could have, and even in 2023, people warned against messing with the timeline. Doctor Strange had made it clear that even the smallest shifts could ripple outwards in unpredictable ways.

“I… I can’t say too much,” you admit, feeling the weight of everyone’s scrutiny. “I know things, yes, but if I start talking about specifics, I don’t know what kind of consequences that might have. I don’t want to risk changing anything important.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, arms folded, her expression skeptical. “So you’re from the future, you can’t tell us anything about it, and we’re supposed to just… believe you?”

Tony, watching the exchange with keen interest, cuts in, “Hey, I’m the skeptic in the room here, and even I think there’s something to this. She knows about things she shouldn’t. Things no one outside of SHIELD should even have access to.”

Fury nods, turning back to you. “So why don’t you give us something harmless? Something to prove you’re telling the truth that won’t mess with the timeline.”

You pause, your mind racing. There’s one thing that comes to mind—a detail that should be inconsequential enough, but that would be enough to convince them of your legitimacy.

“All right,” you say slowly, looking at Fury. “You have a hidden eye scanner behind the painting in your office that only recognizes you, Maria Hill, and Director Pierce.”

Fury’s face hardens, a flicker of surprise passing over his expression. For the first time, he seems truly convinced. “How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve seen it,” you say quietly. “I’ve been in your office more times than I can count.”

Silence settles over the room as they process this revelation. Natasha exchanges a glance with Clint, while Bruce looks at you with newfound curiosity, the scientist in him piqued.

Steve steps forward, his voice softer, more open than the others. “If you’re from the future, then… that means you know what’s coming. Are we in danger?”

It’s a loaded question, one that instantly makes your throat tighten. The instinct to tell him everything—the invasion, the battles, the losses—is overwhelming. But you’ve been trained for situations like this, for protecting information even if it’s difficult.

“Yes,” you say carefully, meeting his gaze. “But you’re strong enough to face it. All of you.”

Steve nods, his jaw set, seeming satisfied with your answer even if it’s not as detailed as he might like. There’s a resilience in him, even at this early stage, that feels like a warm thread connecting this version of Steve to the man you know from the future.

Fury, however, doesn’t seem quite as content. He steps closer, crossing his arms as he looks you over. “I hope you understand the situation you’re in, Miss…?”

“(Y/N),” you repeat, your tone respectful but firm. “And yes, I do.”

“Good. Because as long as you’re here, you’re going to be under SHIELD’s supervision. You’re a risk, whether you mean to be or not.”

“Understood.”

“Then we’ll get you set up with temporary accommodations,” he says, his tone all business. He nods to the group. “Everyone, I want you to keep an eye on our visitor. See what you can learn. And if she can help, even better.”

The meeting disperses, the Avengers filing out one by one. You can feel their eyes on you, some friendly, others more reserved. Bruce, though cautious, gives you a faint nod before leaving. Steve, always the gentleman, offers a polite smile, though you can see the curiosity and concern in his gaze. Natasha and Clint exchange a look before walking out, their silent communication something you recognize instantly; you’ve seen them do this a thousand times in the future.

As the last of them leave, Tony’s still lingering by the door, leaning casually against the frame, arms crossed as he watches you with a mixture of intrigue and something else—an awareness, maybe, that he knows more about you than the others.

When the room finally empties, you let out a long breath, shoulders slumping as the tension eases. Tony steps back inside, glancing around before giving you a lopsided grin. “Well, you survived your first interrogation. Not bad for a time traveler.”

You manage a weak smile. “It could’ve gone worse, I guess.”

“Could’ve gone a lot worse,” he agrees. “For what it’s worth, you did pretty well back there. Kept things vague enough to avoid causing a paradox or whatever, but gave them just enough to work with.”

You nod, biting back the urge to spill everything right then and there. The urge to confide in him—to tell him everything you know about the future, about how he changes, how he sacrifices so much—is almost unbearable. But the thought of how much damage you could cause keeps you silent.

Tony seems to sense the turmoil behind your eyes, because he rests a hand on your shoulder, the touch surprisingly grounding. “Look, I’m no expert in whatever quantum mechanics or time travel theory you’ve got going on, but I can tell when someone’s carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.”

You glance up at him, startled by the gentleness in his voice. “I just… I don’t want to mess anything up,” you confess. “You all have so much ahead of you. So much you’re going to accomplish, and I don’t want to take that from you.”

He gives you a long, searching look, the cocky demeanor fading as he considers your words. “Then don’t. Just take it one day at a time. Hell, take it one minute at a time. You don’t have to carry the whole future on your shoulders, okay?”

There’s something about the way he says it that fills you with a small, fragile hope. You nod, finding strength in his words. For now, you’ll follow his advice—take it

slow, one minute at a time. Because the Avengers here in 2012 are still in their early days, still unscarred by the battles that lie ahead. And as long as you’re here, you’ll do everything in your power to protect that future without changing it.

Together, you and Tony leave the conference room, each step carrying you deeper into a past you know too well yet can’t afford to let yourself alter. It’s a delicate balancing act, but one thing is clear: with Tony by your side, you just might have a chance to figure this out.

Over the next few days, you start to settle in among the 2012 Avengers, trying to adjust to the surreal reality of getting to know them as strangers. They’re cautious, skeptical, yet undeniably intrigued by you and your claim to be from the future. You try to be as helpful as you can without tipping off the events that lie ahead, slowly building their trust by sharing bits of innocuous information—small things that don’t seem significant enough to impact the timeline but reveal just enough to confirm you’re telling the truth.

Steve is the first to approach you, polite but with his guard up, as he invites you to join him in the gym. You recognize the familiar tension in his shoulders as he goes through his training routine, movements precise and controlled.

“So,” he starts, without looking at you. “You seem to know quite a lot about us. Or, at least, about who we’ll become.” He catches the punching bag on its swing back, steadying it with a quick, efficient grip. “Care to share a few details?”

You think carefully, picking a memory you know won’t alter his future. “You and I fought together a lot, actually,” you say, smiling. “And it was an honor. You’re one of the best fighters I know.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, surprised, but there’s a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “Coming from someone trained by Stark, that means something.”

“Actually,” you correct, a hint of laughter escaping, “you trained me, too. When I joined the team in the future, you helped me with my technique. You insisted on it.”

He seems pleased by this, nodding thoughtfully. “Guess that makes sense.” He pauses, looking down. “Good to know I’m still around in the future.”

The words catch you off guard, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. “Yeah. You’re… very important to all of us.”

He gives a small, appreciative nod, not pressing for more. Trust forms slowly between you two as he begins to open up, sharing some of his own hesitations about being part of the Avengers. It’s subtle, almost shy—the beginning of a mutual understanding that grows from small gestures and quiet support.

It’s Natasha who finds you next, joining you in the kitchen as you’re grabbing a snack. Clint follows soon after, leaning casually against the counter with an appraising look.

“So, future girl,” Clint says, popping a grape in his mouth. “Tell us something we don’t know.”

Natasha, sitting across from you, is more direct. “If you can’t tell us everything, then tell us one harmless thing about me and Clint. Something that won’t change anything.”

You think about it, wondering what would be safe to share. Then you recall something small, a tiny detail from the future that has no bearing on any grand event but makes you smile.

“All right. You two like to compete over who can pull off the crazier stunt in the field,” you say, grinning. “It’s… kind of legendary, actually.”

Clint chuckles, leaning back. “Legendary? You hear that, Nat? We’re legends.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, but there’s a faint hint of a smile on her lips. “Legendary, huh? So, who usually wins?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, you do, of course.”

Clint throws his hands up, feigning outrage. “What? I’m pretty sure I would win that fight.”

Natasha’s expression doesn’t change, but you can see the amusement flickering in her eyes as she watches you. For the first time, there’s a hint of trust and warmth there, a softness that she usually keeps hidden. It’s a small moment, but one that feels like progress.

Bruce is one of the quieter members of the team, and for days he keeps his distance, observing you with a mix of curiosity and wariness. He’s naturally cautious, and you can tell he’s wrestling with a thousand questions.

It’s not until you’re alone in the lab, tinkering with some outdated equipment, that he finally approaches.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he begins, pushing his glasses up as he studies you. “In the future, do I… do I get a handle on things? On myself?”

You hesitate, knowing exactly what he means. In 2023, Bruce has indeed found balance, integrating his two selves into what he calls “Professor Hulk.” But you’re not sure if it’s wise to tell him something so significant. You decide to keep it vague, focusing on the reassurance he seems to need.

“You make peace with yourself, Bruce,” you say softly, offering him a warm smile. “You become… someone incredible. And the world is better for it.”

His shoulders relax, and he seems to breathe a little easier. “I’m glad to hear that. Sometimes it’s… hard to imagine things ever being different.”

“They will be,” you assure him, your voice filled with certainty. “Trust me.”

From that day on, Bruce seems more at ease around you, and he even starts inviting you to join him in the lab, talking to you about theories and experiments in ways that remind you of the future you left behind.

After a week of cautiously earning the team’s trust, Tony decides to host an impromptu “team bonding” night in his penthouse—a sort of welcome-to-the-past celebration for you. The others show up, mingling and relaxing, and as you watch them, the differences between these younger Avengers and the versions you know in the future become all the more apparent.

Steve still holds himself a little apart from the group, clearly unused to being surrounded by people who look to him for leadership. Natasha’s edges are sharper, her eyes always watchful, as if she’s waiting for the next mission. Clint is easygoing but guarded, wary of anyone outside his tight circle. Bruce is quieter, more reserved, his mind constantly turning over unspoken questions, while Tony… Tony is, in some ways, exactly the same, though his arrogance feels almost untested, his confidence still untempered by the battles that await him.

At some point in the evening, Clint challenges you to a game of darts, while Natasha observes from the side with her usual unshakable calm. Clint’s sharp eyes and steady hand give him the advantage, but you manage to keep up, hitting the bullseye once or twice.

“Not bad,” Clint says, grudgingly impressed. “Maybe you’re not all talk.”

“Oh, I’m definitely all talk,” you joke, smiling as Natasha chuckles softly beside you.

Steve and Bruce, seated across the room, are deep in conversation, and Tony—well, he’s regaling the group with his latest plans for Stark Tower, gesturing wildly as he describes his latest tech upgrade ideas.

Seeing them all together like this, young and full of potential, is a strange experience. It’s almost bittersweet, knowing what lies ahead for each of them and yet realizing they have no idea. You hold back the memories, keeping your face neutral, not wanting to give anything away.

But at some point, Steve catches your eye from across the room, and he gestures for you to join him. As you approach, he shifts uncomfortably, clearly thinking through something serious.

“You seem to know us… really well,” he says, his tone thoughtful. “But we hardly know anything about you.”

The others fall silent, turning their attention to you. The question isn’t exactly unexpected, but it catches you off guard nonetheless. What can you say to them that won’t give away too much, that won’t ruin the innocence they have here?

“Well,” you begin, choosing your words carefully, “I joined the Avengers because I wanted to help. You all inspired me. You made me feel like… like the world was worth saving.”

Steve seems touched by this, and you can see a faint sense of pride and surprise in his expression.

“It’s strange,” Bruce says, smiling faintly. “Thinking of ourselves as… inspirations.”

“You are,” you assure them. “All of you. I can’t say much, but… the Avengers become something big. You make a difference. And even when things get hard, you never give up. None of you.”

Tony raises his glass, flashing you that familiar, playful grin. “Here’s to being legendary, then,” he declares, and the others lift their glasses in a quiet toast.

As they take their sips, you feel the weight of your secret settle back on your shoulders. You know you’ll need to leave someday, that the version of you who fought beside the Avengers in 2023 belongs to a different time. But for now, here in this moment, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you can make things a little better.

Trust builds gradually, each Avenger letting you in a little more each day. Clint eventually invites you to join him and Natasha for target practice, jokingly betting on whether you can keep up. Bruce starts consulting you on his experiments, asking for your advice with a respect you never thought possible from the reticent scientist. Steve includes you in his training routines, guiding you with gentle patience, his easy confidence growing every day. And Tony—well, Tony becomes a constant companion, checking in on you, teasing you, always eager to draw out your knowledge of the future without pushing too far.

The team is becoming something more than just an assignment or a mission. They’re becoming your friends.

One day, when the group gathers in the common room, Steve suggests sparring matches as a team-bonding exercise. Clint and Natasha go first, their movements sharp and perfectly

in sync, and the others watch, laughing and cheering as the pair battle it out. As you join in the fun, you catch Tony’s eye, and he gives you an approving nod.

Thor arrives with all the grandeur you remember: the flash of lightning, the distant rumble of thunder, and his booming voice filling Stark Tower as he greets the team. The others seem mostly unfazed, having grown accustomed to their Asgardian ally’s dramatic entrances, but you can’t help the flood of memories that come rushing back. Here he is—the same Thor you know from 2023, yet younger, less tempered by the losses and battles he’ll face. The unshakeable pride, the wide-eyed enthusiasm for Midgard—it’s all there, untouched by the trials that lie ahead.

He strides into the room, his golden armor gleaming, the red cape flaring behind him, and, of course, Mjolnir in his grip. Thor’s blue eyes twinkle with mischief and curiosity as they land on you, and his deep voice carries an unmistakable warmth.

“And who might you be?” he booms, glancing at Tony and raising an eyebrow.

“This,” Tony says, stepping forward with a half-smile, “is our new resident time traveler. She’s from the future, knows a few things, but she’s under strict instructions not to mess with any timelines.”

You manage a smile, offering Thor a small wave. “Hi, Thor. It’s… nice to see you.”

He steps closer, giving you a curious look. “You know me, then?”

“Oh, yes,” you say, trying not to give too much away. “I know you very well. You’re… quite the hero where I come from.”

He lets out a hearty laugh. “A hero, indeed! Well, I am glad to hear that even in the future, the people of Midgard recognize greatness!” His laugh echoes through the room, and he claps Tony on the shoulder. “And Stark, I trust you are as impressive in the future as you are now?”

“Oh, I’m impressive,” Tony replies, flashing a grin, though you catch a flicker of discomfort in his eyes. You know Tony doesn’t like to talk about the future, especially when it comes to his own destiny.

It doesn’t take long for the team to settle back into their routines with Thor joining them, and that night, Tony and Thor chat quietly in the common area. Tony seems relaxed, yet there’s a quiet intensity to his gaze whenever he glances at you. You’ve noticed it more and more over the past few days—the way Tony’s curiosity has shifted into something more protective, like he’s trying to read between the lines of everything you say, preparing himself for the worst, even if he’s pretending not to.

Later, after most of the team has dispersed, Tony approaches you, hands in his pockets, his expression pensive.

“You know,” he says softly, “Thor’s arrival means that Loki isn’t far behind. The whole reason he comes to Earth right now is… well, because of the Tesseract.” He leans in, his voice low. “The Battle of New York, right? That’s coming up?”

You nod, feeling the familiar pang of helplessness. “Yeah. It’s… it’s coming soon.”

He watches you carefully, something searching in his gaze. “And you can’t say anything that would help us?”

The question hangs in the air, both of you understanding the weight of it. You swallow hard, shaking your head. “I can’t, Tony. I wish I could. But if I do, I risk changing everything that’s supposed to happen.”

Tony’s face is unreadable, but there’s a hint of frustration there, a simmering anger he’s clearly holding back. “So, what are you supposed to do then? Just… stand by and watch us walk into a war without warning?”

You feel his words like a punch to the gut. You hate this part—the helplessness, the burden of knowing exactly how things are going to unfold and being powerless to stop it. But you also know what’s at stake if you interfere.

“Yes,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t change anything, Tony. Even if it hurts to stand by and watch, even if I wish I could do more.”

His expression softens slightly, and he steps closer. “I get it,” he says quietly. “And I know this whole ‘not changing the future’ thing is supposed to be important. But I’m telling you now, if you ever need to tell me something, I’ll listen. No questions, no judgment.”

You nod, managing a weak smile. “Thanks, Tony. That… that means a lot.”

He hesitates, then places a hand on your shoulder, a rare moment of gentleness that sends warmth through you. “Look, I don’t know who I am in the future, but here, now, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to keep us alive.” He drops his hand, giving you a small smirk. “That includes you, time traveler.”

You smile back, heart pounding. “I’ll do what I can to keep you safe too, Tony. Even if I can’t change things.”

The Night Before the Battle

As the days pass, tension begins to settle over the team. The warnings they’ve received from SHIELD, the unusual activity around the Tesseract—all of it points to something big on the horizon. You can feel the weight of the coming battle pressing down on you like a storm cloud, and while the others prepare, you feel like a ghost, wandering the Tower’s halls, struggling with the knowledge you carry.

That night, Tony finds you on the rooftop, staring out over the New York skyline. The city lights twinkle beneath the stars, oblivious to the danger that’s soon to come. Tony approaches quietly, his presence grounding.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he says, his tone light but his eyes serious. “You know, you spend a lot of time up here, brooding.”

You smile weakly. “It’s hard not to when… I know what’s coming.”

He leans against the railing beside you, crossing his arms. “I don’t blame you. But I’ll let you in on a secret,” he says, his voice softening. “Even though you can’t say anything, you’ve helped us. You’ve helped me. Just knowing you’re here… it gives me this weird feeling that we’re gonna make it through this.”

You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I wish I could do more. But… knowing you’re here, Tony—it helps me too. You’ve always found a way to keep everyone together, to find solutions, even when things seemed hopeless.”

He looks at you, surprise flickering across his face, followed by something softer. “You really believe that?”

“Yeah, I do,” you reply, voice steady. “More than you know.”

For a moment, the two of you stand there in silence, the distant hum of the city below filling the night air. Then, Tony turns to face you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Well, if this is our last night before everything goes sideways, I say we make it count.” He offers his hand. “Come on. Let’s go raid the stash of champagne in my suite. I may be a genius, but I’m also a pretty decent bartender.”

You laugh, taking his hand as he leads you inside. Together, you head up to his penthouse, and soon, you’re seated on his plush couch, sipping champagne and trading stories. He talks about his early years at Stark Industries, the crazy nights and the high-stakes projects, and you share some of the most lighthearted moments you’ve had with the team in the future—moments that won’t give anything away but capture the heart of what the Avengers are.

“Sounds like we’re not half-bad in the future,” Tony says, grinning as he refills your glass.

“You’re more than not half-bad,” you reply, laughing. “You’re legends.”

He shakes his head, looking down at his drink. “You know, I never thought I’d have a legacy. Not really. I figured I’d make a bunch of tech, sell it off, and that’d be it. But hearing you talk about the future… it’s weird, but for the first time, I kind of want to be there to see it.”

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re going to do incredible things, Tony. You have no idea how much you’ll mean to all of us.”

He meets your gaze, his expression softening, and for a moment, there’s a quiet intensity between you—a feeling of connection that goes beyond time, beyond the secrets you’re forced to keep. You don’t have to tell him everything to let him know how much he matters, not just to the future, but to you.

“Guess I’ll have to stick around then,” he says, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice. “For you, and for… whoever I become.”

You smile, heart pounding, and you squeeze his arm gently. “I’m glad.”

In the quiet that follows, he reaches over, clinking his glass against yours. “To the future,” he says softly, his voice filled with a determination that’s almost heartbreaking.

You raise your glass, fighting the emotions rising in your chest. “To the future.”

The morning dawns heavy, and as the team gathers, the tension is palpable. You stand on the sidelines, watching each of them prepare, the reality of what’s about to happen pressing down on you. Tony catches your eye before he puts on the suit, his gaze steady and reassuring. He doesn’t have to say anything—you already know.

“See you on the other side,” he says, voice muffled by the suit’s mask as he flashes you a confident grin.

You watch him go, your heart aching with a strange mix of pride and fear. There’s no guarantee that things will unfold exactly as you remember, but for now, you have faith. The Avengers are ready. And so are you.

The dust of the battle hasn’t even settled, but after capturing Loki, the team allows themselves a small moment of relief. As the Avengers regroup, Thor stands guard over Loki with a mixture of grim satisfaction and frustration, while Natasha and Clint exchange relieved nods. Steve is already eyeing the damaged buildings, making plans for containment and crowd control.

Tony, however, is still pacing, his gaze flicking to the holographic interface in front of him. He watches JARVIS’s live feed, examining damage reports, crowd dispersal, and tracking the few remaining Chitauri soldiers scattered through the city.

That’s when JARVIS’s calm voice cuts through. “Sir, I must alert you that Y/N’s vitals are highly irregular. Her heart rate and breathing pattern suggest she may be experiencing a panic attack.”

Tony’s brow furrows, worry creeping onto his face. “Where is she?”

“She was last located on the floor directly below you, but the security cameras on that floor are currently offline due to structural damage. I’m unable to locate her visually.”

A pang of alarm runs through Tony, and it catches the attention of the rest of the team. Natasha and Steve share a concerned look, Clint straightens, and even Thor’s expression shifts from watchful to worried.

“A panic attack?” Clint asks, confused. “I thought panic attacks were Tony’s thing.”

“Hey!” Tony snaps, but it lacks his usual edge. There’s a flicker of anxiety in his expression, and he’s already reaching for his comm. “Y/N? Can you hear me? If you’re there, talk to me.”

Silence.

He feels a sinking dread building in his stomach, and he exchanges a glance with Steve, who nods, immediately stepping forward. “Tony, do you want backup?” Steve asks.

Tony shakes his head. “No, I’ll find her. Just… keep Loki locked down, all right? We don’t want him getting any ideas while we’re distracted.”

With that, Tony heads down a damaged stairwell, calling JARVIS’s name and reactivating every broken camera he can find. After what feels like an agonizingly long few seconds, he finally picks up a faint, distorted signal from one of the lower floors.

And then he hears it—a deep, mechanical thud that echoes through the empty floor below. He rushes down the last few steps and stops dead in his tracks when he reaches the corridor.

At the far end of the hall, there’s Y/N… only she’s barely recognizable. She’s suited up in what looks like Tony’s Iron Man armor, or rather, parts of the armor—a strange, improvised mix of boots, a chest plate, gauntlets, and a helmet. Her arms and legs are half-exposed in her torn battle gear, and in one hand, she’s gripping a metal baseball bat, the metal shining under the harsh emergency lights.

Tony takes a stunned step forward as Y/N raises the bat with all her might, swinging it into a remaining Chitauri soldier, sending it flying back with a satisfying crash. The alien hits the wall hard, but she doesn’t stop. There’s a ferocity in her movements that he’s never seen before—raw, desperate, and relentless. She stumbles forward, chest heaving, breath heavy and erratic over the helmet’s comm system as she swings again and again, knocking down every remaining Chitauri that crosses her path.

The rest of the team arrives behind Tony, and they all freeze at the sight. Steve’s eyes widen, Clint’s mouth drops open, and Natasha raises an eyebrow, looking impressed.

“Is she… is she wearing your suit?” Steve finally asks, his tone equal parts confusion and awe.

Tony doesn’t answer, too busy staring. She’s moving erratically, swaying slightly, her movements sharper and more frantic than he’s ever seen from her. There’s no precision, no strategy—just sheer, brutal determination as she takes down the last of the Chitauri.

And then, as the dust settles, her chest heaves as she drops the bat to the ground with a clang, her breathing audible even through the helmet. Tony steps forward slowly, cautious, not wanting to startle her.

“Y/N,” he calls softly, “you okay in there?”

For a moment, she doesn’t respond. The helmet dips, as if she’s looking down at herself in disbelief. When she finally speaks, her voice crackles through the helmet, shaky and breathless.

“Tony?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he says, his voice softer than usual. “You wanna… you wanna take that thing off?”

The silence stretches, and then, with a trembling hand, she reaches up, disengaging the helmet. It slides off, revealing her face, pale and streaked with dirt and sweat. Her eyes are wide, glassy with fear, and there’s a tremor in her hand that she can’t quite control.

“I—I couldn’t find any of you,” she whispers, her voice catching. “And I just… I saw them down here, and I couldn’t—”

Tony steps closer, his expression softening. “Hey, hey. You did good. You took them out. You’re safe, okay?”

Her breaths come fast and shallow, and he realizes she’s still in the grip of panic, her body trembling in the remnants of adrenaline and fear. He reaches out, carefully placing a hand on her shoulder, grounding her. “Y/N, you’re okay now. Just breathe with me, all right?”

She nods, her breaths starting to slow, her eyes flicking up to meet his. There’s a vulnerability there, a rawness that cuts right through him. She looks like she’s holding back a flood of emotion, and his heart tightens.

One by one, the others approach, keeping a respectful distance but offering her reassuring nods. Steve steps forward, placing a steady hand on her other shoulder, his gaze warm and reassuring.

“We’re here,” he says, his voice steady. “You didn’t have to do this alone.”

The reassurance seems to break something inside her, and she lets out a shaky laugh, wiping at her face. “Guess I got a little carried away, huh?” she murmurs, trying to steady herself.

Tony raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Just a little. Though I gotta say, you wear that suit well. Never thought I’d see you flying down here with a bat and half my armor.”

Her cheeks flush, and she lets out a self-conscious chuckle. “I just grabbed whatever was closest. I couldn’t… I didn’t want any of you to get hurt. I had to help somehow.”

Clint, watching with a mix of amazement and amusement, crosses his arms, grinning. “If I’d known you had this side in you, I’d have handed you a bat weeks ago.”

Natasha steps up beside Clint, nodding approvingly. “It takes guts to throw yourself into a fight like that. Especially alone.”

Y/N looks at each of them, her expression a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. She shakes her head, glancing back at Tony. “Guess I still have a few things to learn about… not panicking under pressure.”

Tony chuckles, but there’s a gentleness in his eyes as he meets her gaze. “Trust me,” he says, “you’re not the only one who freaks out when things get intense. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re not alone here. And next time? You don’t have to handle it by yourself. Got it?”

She nods, a small, grateful smile tugging at her lips. “Got it.”

As the team disperses, Tony stays with her a moment longer, studying her carefully. “You know,” he says quietly, his tone softer than usual, “I can upgrade that baseball bat if you’re thinking of making this a regular thing.”

She laughs, a real, genuine laugh this time. “I’ll keep that in mind. But maybe I’ll leave the suits to you next time.”

“Fair enough,” he replies, grinning. He pauses, his expression turning thoughtful. “Hey… don’t feel bad about what happened, okay? You stepped up. You saved us a lot of trouble back there.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation, but she nods, a shy smile appearing. “Thanks, Tony. For… everything.”

He gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze, his gaze soft. “Anytime. Now let’s get you out of that armor before you short-circuit it.”

With a grateful smile, she follows him, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. For the first time since arriving in this unfamiliar past, she feels a sense of belonging, knowing that these people—the Avengers, her friends—will always have her back, just as she has theirs.

Unbeknownst to you, or to the Avengers around you, just a few blocks away, a much older Tony Stark is crouched in the shadows with Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner, their eyes fixed on the commotion unfolding at Stark Tower. They’ve come to 2012 to retrieve the Tesseract—an essential part of their mission to save the future. Their objective is clear: get in, grab the Tesseract, and get out without causing any disruptions. But when Tony’s gaze catches sight of the familiar figure in half of his old suit, wielding a bat and going after stray Chitauri with a fierce determination, he freezes, completely taken off guard.

Steve glances at him. “What’s wrong, Stark?”

Tony’s eyes are glued to you, his expression softening as he watches you clobber a Chitauri, then brace yourself as the helmet’s targeting HUD helps you line up your next swing. “I… didn’t expect this,” he murmurs, voice filled with awe and something closer to pride than Steve has ever heard from him.

Bruce follows Tony’s gaze and frowns in confusion. “Wait—is that… Y/N? But that can’t be right. She wouldn’t be here. This isn’t even her timeline.”

“Oh, it’s her,” Tony whispers, his voice choked with both joy and heartbreak. He can’t help but let a small grin sneak onto his face, one that shows just how much he cares for you and just how proud he is. “That’s my little girl.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably, but there’s a softness in his gaze as he watches Tony’s face, lit up with admiration and bittersweet nostalgia. “Tony, you know the rules. We can’t interfere.”

“I know,” Tony says, the reality settling over him like a lead weight. “But look at her.” He nods toward you, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. “She’s got guts. Always has. I knew she’d be a fighter.”

Steve watches you for a moment, then gives Tony a small, supportive nod. “She’s in good hands. You saw her out there—she’s fighting with the team, and you know this version of you will keep an eye on her.”

“I know,” Tony murmurs, his eyes never leaving you. For a moment, he loses himself in the scene—watching you alongside his younger self, surrounded by the team, all of you laughing and joking after the battle. He swallows hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. It’s like looking through a window into a different time, one where he could just stand there and watch over you, make sure you were safe.

The younger Tony steps forward in the armor, calling out a comment that makes you laugh, a real, bright laugh that reaches even the ears of the time-traveling Tony hidden in the shadows. He can see how his younger self leans forward, his eyes full of quiet care as he reassures you, and Tony’s heart swells with pride and longing.

“She’s tougher than I realized,” Bruce says with a small, approving smile, giving Tony a reassuring nudge. “She’ll be all right, Tony.”

“Yeah, yeah, she will,” Tony says, nodding to himself, though there’s a tightness in his voice that betrays the mix of joy and sorrow swirling inside him. He may not be able to approach you now, to tell you how proud he is, but he can watch you from the shadows just this once, a silent guardian, letting himself soak in the sight of you alive and well, even if it’s in a past that isn’t his.

He clears his throat, steeling himself, reminding himself of the mission. “All right, guys. Let’s get the Tesseract and get out of here,” he says, but his voice is softer, less biting than usual. “I’ll… I’ll be back soon, anyway. To the right timeline.”

As he and the others move to leave, Tony sneaks one last look over his shoulder. You’re taking a deep breath, looking around at your team with a smile that’s just a little shy, a little amazed, as if you’re still surprised that you belong here. His heart aches with pride, and his voice is barely a whisper as he says, “That’s my girl. Stay safe.”

With that, he turns and follows Steve and Bruce, his heart a little heavier but his soul a little lighter, knowing that, even if he can’t protect you directly, he’s left you in good hands: his own hands, in a way. It’s enough, for now.

I don't know if I'm really satisfied with this...I just hope that whoever requested it likes it!

[ironspiderfics]

this is supposed to be a vacation

for @meilz

by @iron--spider

~

Tony loves this kid.

It’s a montage at the beginning of a movie—Tony was crazy about Peter almost immediately, couldn’t accept it, his own damn daddy issues courtesy of Howard Stark, then he had to accept it because the kid kept trying to die, then things settled, they worked together, then they unsettled and the kid dissolved in Tony’s hands, and a year of heavy-drinking and nearly exploding himself in the lab wound up with all the dissolved people undissolved and the kid back and Tony in a hospital bed. Three-week coma. Whole screaming celebration when he woke up loud enough to bust his eardrums and restart his heart.

But Peter was there. Peter was there. 

Time slowed to a crawl, sped up and slowed down again, and Tony tried to recover. He knew Peter and his friends went on that European trip—he encouraged it even though Peter was worried about leaving after everything. May and Happy chaperoned, and then everyone nearly died because Quentin fucking Beck decided to roll out of Tony’s past to try and kill off someone he loves. He failed, because Peter is Peter, and Fury and Happy shut down the false allegations Beck tried to put out there before he was arrested, and everybody came home.

It’s been about two months, since then. And Tony had just gotten back on his feet a week or so before Peter left, and he’s even steadier now. Getting steadier by the day. 

But he loves this kid. More now, than ever. The son he never had. He loves May, he loves the kids that come along with his kid, he loves everything Peter has to say and everything he doesn’t, he loves keeping an eye on his missions, he loves the way he fits so snug into Tony’s little family. 

And he loves him enough to know when he’s crashing. When his eyes are tired and his patrols aren’t as succinct and punchy as they usually are. When he needs a vacation from his recent vacation. As if nearly being killed by some asshole in London is the vacation any of them need. 

So, Tony makes a couple decisions. 

After all the shit they’ve gone through, what the hell could go wrong with a break?

~

Peter knew Tony was planning something, because he isn’t secretive when he’s excited, and he found out what he was planning when Tony asked if Ned and MJ’s families would mind if he took them out of the city for a few days.

And about a week later, they were heading upstate to Mohonk Mountain House.

And Peter hasn’t been complaining, at least not to Tony, but his tiredness has been bone-deep since he got back from London. Since before that, really. Coming back from the dead can do that to someone, and he doesn’t even like to call it dead, and apparently they were all tiny particle souls inside that infinity stone but it doesn’t matter because that’s a whole other can of worms and he gets more tired and more weary every time he even thinks about any of that. 

He swung right into a wall the other day. Slap right into it. He almost broke his nose again. He feels like that might have been the moment Tony decided on this vacation—Peter could tell by the look on his face when he told him that he’d crossed some kind of line. 

They walk inside the main lobby of Mohonk and Peter keeps hearing Ben’s voice in his head. You’re gonna catch flies, Pete. But he can’t stop gaping at everything. Like…he’s been in a Hilton and this is so much better than a Hilton. 

“This place looks straight out of a Hitchcock movie,” May says, and she knocks Tony on the arm.

Tony laughs, and Pepper turns around, raising her eyebrows at May. “Let’s just hope we don’t have any Hitchcock-type events happen while we’re here.”

“What would that mean?” Ned asks, catching up to the group and trying to whisper in Peter’s ear. “You’ve seen Hitchcock movies. I remember you watched that weird apartment one a hundred times.”

“I love that movie,” Peter says. Rear Window. He never wants his leg to be broken. He knows he’d go insane just like that.

“You haven’t seen Psycho?” MJ asks Ned, hoisting her backpack higher on her shoulder.

Ned hums a little bit. “No. I know about it though. No crazy Grandmas for me.”

“That’s not what happens.”

Leather couches and tall ceilings and intricate carpeting and columns and everything somehow looks really rich but really comfortable at the same time—

“No,” Tony says, turning around and pointing at them. “No, no, and no.” He points at May too. “No. No Rear Window, no Psycho, no Vertigo—maybe a little bit North by Northwest—no, you know what, no. Not that either. This is going to be the lamest movie you’ve ever—this isn’t even gonna be a movie, there’s no—there’s no plot, this is just—a family video. A home movie. That’s it.”

Family video feels warm, and Peter grins.

“Of course, Mr. Stark—”

“It’s gonna be fine—”

“Absolutely nothing—”

“Listen, I’m hitting that buffet—”

“I’m just gonna sleep,” Peter says, as they approach the huge front desk. “Just the entire time.”

Tony smiles softly at him, and he winks. “You deserve it,” he says, and Peter can tell that he means it. 

They hear crashing, something that sounds expensive hitting the ground somewhere behind them, and they all turn around and see a bunch of employees running around to try and take care of it. A whole big production and two guys trying to hold up a big bear statue that’s trying to fall over.

“Okay, step to,” Happy’s voice says, and Peter hears him before he sees him, and then he breezes by, striding out in front of them. “Let’s go, come on, follow me, let’s get this in the books—”

“Oh, there he is,” Tony says, patting him on the shoulders. “There he is.”

~

Peter and May could never afford a vacation like this. They could never even afford to imagine something like this. Peter feels like they would have charged him if he’d even looked at photos of this place. A big, historic, mountain resort in upstate New York, on the edge of a cliff overlooking a lake? 

But now they’re here. They’re here with Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. Peter was able to bring two friends. Happy drove them all in a big plush rental van. They’ve got a line of suites on the sixth floor and they had steak and lobster for dinner on their first night. 

It feels unreal. But things feel unreal a lot. Especially things involving Tony, involving Spider-Man. Any of it. Like he’s having a long, prolonged dream before Ben wakes him up for school.

Peter stands on one of the terrace balconies with Tony while the others are arranging activities for tomorrow, and he stares off at the lake and the way the moon hits it. Light rippling on the water. 

“You really think you’re gonna sleep the whole time?” Tony asks, leaning on the railing. “Because nobody would judge you for it. Kayaks can wait. Ballroom dancing can absolutely wait, as can all of May’s Dirty Dancing comparisons, because I can feel them building up, like an aura around her—”

Peter snorts. “No,” he says. “But I probably will mostly just…relax. Take it easy. Just sleeping, no alarms—”

“You deserve it, like I said,” Tony says. “It’s thrilling to me that you’re even giving yourself a break.”

“Look who’s talking,” Peter says, giving him a look. “You were trying to get down to the workshop when your arm was still holding on by one string of muscle.”

Tony’s entire face contorts. “That is a terrible, disgusting image, Mr. Parker—”

Peter snorts again, choking on his laughter. 

Tony knocks him on the arm. “You’re awful, a menace, making fun of an injured old man—”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but it’s true,” Peter says, swatting him back, and still laughing. “You’re the one who needs—needs this. Like Happy always says, I’m a ‘spring chicken’, I—I can bounce back.”

“I had enough bedrest for the next ten years,” Tony says, and he’s giving Peter that look again. Concern. Like he’s trying to read his mind. “You—I know you like to act like it all doesn’t affect you, but you were going through hell on the daily before that purple asshole snapped his fingers. Then there was all that, and the right after that, and the coming back from that, and me wasting away in front of you—and then Quentin Beck flaunting his dickheaded tendencies on your school trip—that was supposed to be your relaxing time and it got away from you too and I just—like I said, you deserve your time. You need it. Don’t—you’re not selling yourself short if you say you need some rest. You put everybody first all the time, yourself last—you deserve to relax, that’s all.”

Peter blows out a breath. He doesn’t even really try to deny it in his head anymore. He doesn’t try to compare himself to other people who have it worse. He’s tired. He’s beat. He feels older than he is. 

Tony clicks his tongue and looks out at the lake. “I know this place is kind of old, kind of dated, rooms kind of look a little bit like grandma was head decorator, but—I, uh—I’ve got fond memories here. Mom used to bring me, when Howard was, uh…in some of his dicier moments. And sometimes we’d just relax, too. Recover from…knowing him.”

Peter is just kind of staring at him, because it always takes him off guard when Tony starts talking about Howard. They’re close enough now that he hears stories about his personal life all the time—his growing up, his insane college years with Rhodey, meeting Pepper meeting Happy and everything in between, but Howard is still…something they don’t really talk about, past flippant comments about Tony striving to be a better father figure than he ever was. 

“Then I’m glad you brought us here,” Peter says, his voice cracking a little bit. “I’m glad you brought me here.” And in his head he hears I’m glad you brought me back. Because he thinks about that all the time. 

Everyone’s back because of you, Peter. He never gave up on bringing you back. It was about saving you.

Tony looks like he’s about to say something else when there’s a bunch of rustling in the trees below them, and a loud thump, and more rustling. They both peer over the railing, and Peter can see the trees moving, but not anything else.

They share a wary look.

“Probably just a skunk,” Tony says.

“Oh, great.”

“Or maybe a band of feral cats.”

“Okay that’s better. Hopefully not too feral. Like, I hope they’re receptive to petting.”

They keep staring down at the trees, but it all seems quiet again.

~

Tony and Pepper have one room, Peter, MJ and Ned have the one in the middle, and May and Happy are on the end in a single room together even though Peter is refusing to acknowledge what that means or what might be going on in there. Tony mentioned that the rooms were dated, but they feel more like what a royal castle might look like inside, and for the longest time Peter is worried about wrinkling up the sheets. And then eventually it’s Ned’s snoring keeping him awake.

And then, when he’s finally mostly asleep—

“Peter.”

MJ’s voice. Peter’s in the bed with Ned and she got the other huge bed all to herself, but she sounds like she’s right next to him. He turns over onto his side, towards her voice, and then she’s—

On the ground right next to his face—

He startles a little bit, and she grabs his hand.

“MJ what—”

“There’s someone in the room.”

She’s whispering, and his heart speeds up a little bit. What the hell? There’s no way.

“Are you sure it’s not Happy?” Peter asks, as Ned lets out a rip of a snore. “Sometimes he likes to do perimeter checks—”

“It’s not Happy!” she whisper-yells.

Peter blinks, and she’s already pulling the sheets off him and yanking him out of bed, and he feels like he’d be more paranoid if something was actually happening, like he’d feel it pulsing and burning in his head, and she’s tugging on him and they’re stumbling over to the wall and—

“MJ—MJ—”

She flips on the light—

And Peter only sees him briefly—a man, standing over by the bathroom, and Peter barely gets to see what he looks like before the lights go out again. 

But he wasn’t Happy he wasn’t Tony he wasn’t supposed to be here, and Peter’s heart rockets into his throat and he hears MJ gasp and he hears feet moving and Ned is still snoring, and Peter rushes towards where the man was and tries to catch him tries to fight, but he only meets open air. 

MJ yanks the door open and she’s already running out into the hallway, yelling Tony’s name, yelling for Peter to follow her. And the hall light is streaming into their room now, and Peter looks around, breathing hard, trying to find the guy—

Nothing. Nothing.

Nobody’s here.

Ned is still snoring.

~

Tony stands next to Peter while the manager shows them the video footage. He watches their doors, completely still and closed from the hallway cameras, and then he watches MJ race out, and Tony and Happy run in a few minutes later. Followed by Pepper and May a few minutes after that. And then Ned finally looming out into the hallway, still half asleep.

“As you can see,” the manager says. “No one entered the room.”

Peter can feel Tony’s anger simmering beside him, and he takes it as a compliment that Tony is all-in on believing that they saw someone, even though he didn’t see him himself.

“Can I get the outside view again?” Tony asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

They switch to the outside view again, which they’ve already seen about three times. The cameras aren’t great out there, and Happy found out they’re in the process of an upgrade. Peter can see their floor from a distance, he sees a little flash of light that they can’t identify, and then nothing else. No one scaling the building. Not in a way they can see, anyway.

“When will the upgrade be complete?” Tony asks, his tone clipped.

“After your stay, sir, unfortunately.”

Tony huffs, and doesn’t say anything else, and he turns and takes Peter’s arm and leads him to the door. They walk out into the hallway, where MJ and Ned quickly back up.

“Don’t need to listen through the wall,” Tony says.

“Uh, we weren’t,” MJ says. “We were just—”

“Looking at the wallpaper,” Ned says. “It’s—so cool.”

“Uh huh,” Tony says. He moves so they’re in a little circle, and he grips Peter’s shoulder. “Do you want to leave?” he asks, looking around at the three of them. “Because we can leave. We can go somewhere else, figure something else out. Or we can move rooms, we can go down to the Grove Lodge so we can all be closer together—we can do whatever we want.”

Ned’s eyes go wide. “I mean, I didn’t see anything, I was sleeping—”

“It’s fine,” MJ says, fast, glancing at Peter. “I feel like we—Peter and I must have been—I mean, we’re—everything that happened, we’re always thinking about it, and Mysterio was about like—making us think we were seeing things that weren’t there or were there but different—it’s fine. Joint hallucination. Or maybe I made him think he saw something because I was saying I saw something.”

That would normally be a Tony joke cue, but he just looks at her intently. “You don’t have to make excuses,” he says. “I don’t want you guys feeling…unsafe. Despite the presence of, uh—enhanced individuals. Unnamed.”

“It’s okay,” MJ says, and she looks at Peter and nods. 

Tony looks at him too. And Peter knows that if he said anything about being worried, Tony would move them in an instant.

What the hell did he see? 

Were they really just tired?

Did he think he saw something because MJ thought she saw something?

“It’s okay,” he says, slowly, because…he isn’t entirely sure. But MJ seems sure and Peter doesn’t want to blow up the trip if they were just in a PTSD-addled nightmare. It is their first real vacation since that shit with Beck happened, it still feels like a knife in his gut sometimes.

“You sure?” Tony asks, and he shakes Peter’s shoulder a little bit.

Peter looks at MJ, and she nods at him. 

“Yeah,” Peter says. “I’m sure.”

~

They go back to bed after that without any more incidents, but Peter mostly stays awake, staring off into the darkness. MJ is awake too, through a lot of the night, and they text because Ned is sleeping and snoring like there’s nothing wrong and there’s never been anything wrong, ever.

I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

I wouldn’t let anything happen to you either. Nerd :)

Over breakfast, Tony lets them know that Happy is setting up Friday to do sweeps and is doing his own personal perimeter checks.

“I want him to enjoy his break too though,” Peter says, pushing his waffle around on the plate.

“He’s enjoying it,” May says, through a mouthful of eggs.

Peter frowns at her. “I don’t like that. I don’t—I don’t need—”

She shrugs. “Well.”

“Okay, Miss Kiss and Tell,” Tony says, laughing as Pepper sits down next to him. “But it’s good. He’s on it, and I’m on it too.”

“Here,” MJ says, coming back from the buffet and sitting down next to Peter. She puts a cinnamon bun on his plate, smiling at him. “They just brought them out. Ned is trying to barter for more.”

“They can’t deny him,” Pepper says. “It’s all inclusive.”

“Exactly,” Tony says. “And after last night, we should be getting extra—I still think they sent someone in to check on something and didn’t want to admit it. I’m not gonna go all I’d like to speak to the manager on them, even though I did—do that—but either way—”

Peter hasn’t landed anywhere on it yet. He keeps trying to think back on it, trying to remember exactly what he saw. His spider sense, newly minted, is usually pretty bang on if something isn’t right, if he feels like he’s in danger, but he’d just woken up, he’s foggy in the mornings sometimes—

He figures his mind was just playing tricks on him. But MJ too?

She rubs his leg, like she knows he's agonizing over it, and he reaches down and holds her hand.

“Okay,” Ned says, walking back over holding a plate. “They let me take five of them. They’re all really warm and gooey, I feel like this is a promising start to the day.”

~

Peter isn’t exactly a spa guy, so he doesn’t join May and Pepper when they decide to go there, even though he feels like it might help him if he ever figured out how to relax. But going there is supposed to help him relax, so how can he ever relax enough to get to the point of going there—either way, he goes out onto the lake with Tony and Ned and MJ.

MJ and Peter both get their own kayaks, and Ned and Tony are in a canoe.

“He wouldn’t get into one of these,” Tony yells. “Honestly, if Happy’s not still doing security shit, he’s probably golfing. He’s terrible at it and he never likes to do it when anybody he knows is around. I’ll message him in a little bit and make sure but that’s probably where he is. Ned. You have to keep that thing on just in case we turn over.”

Peter snorts, looking back at them, and he sees Tony adjusting Ned’s lifejacket on his shoulders.

“Happy’s just afraid of racing,” Peter yells, cutting his oar through the water. “MJ remember when—”

“Yes,” she says, a little out ahead of him, and she’s already laughing. “I don’t even know why he was trying to chase you in New York traffic. While you were swinging in the air above him. You didn’t have any cars in your way, nothing was stopping you—”

Peter snorts again, bending over and laughing a little bit. “He was so mad. He didn’t talk to me for a week. He made me talk to Friday specifically.”

“I gave him shit for that!” Tony yells. “He shouldn’t have been trying to chase you. The gas leak had nothing to do with you. He’s always tossing blame around willy nilly.”

“Yeah he still blames me for the time those columns collapsed on that old garbage building,” Ned says. “A line of code can’t do that, that building was old I didn’t do anything there was no way he should have yelled at me at all let alone for twenty minutes—”

“He’s just dramatic,” Tony says.

“He just gets worried,” Peter says, glancing over his shoulder at their boat. And Ned makes big eyes at him, because yeah, uh, they’ve seen why he gets worried. They’ve dealt with why he gets worried. And now, after last night, Peter feels like he’s making himself worried. He needs to stop, they’ve already moved past it, they’re still here, it’s all fine.

“Yeah, I imbued him with a worrying virus that will never be cured,” Tony says. “And now the next generation has to deal with it. Here we are.”

Peter shakes his head, smiling. He’s gotta relax. The sun is shining on the lake bright and beautiful, and May is actually getting a massage for the first time in years and everything is fine. It’s fine. 

He hears Tony chastising Ned again about his life jacket, gently, and Peter starts rowing out and around the outside of the lake. They’re the only ones out here right now, and he wonders how long that’s gonna last. He wonders if that’s something the resort set up, because it’s Tony, because of what happened last night, because Happy’s been intimidating people, and Peter simultaneously appreciates it and balks against the special treatment. But he’s with Tony, he should know it’s gonna happen.

He feels like he’s going a little faster than he should be going based on the way he’s rowing, like he’s really moving along. He glances over at MJ and she’s even further away from him, moving in the direction of the hotel.

“We’re not racing yet!” he yells, and he feels like Happy—constantly worried. But he’s worried about her in a different way and actually starting things with her in Europe made the whole thing worth it in a way, and now they’re together and it’s amazing but he’s just so worried all the time.

And now he’s stopped rowing all together, and he should be slowing down, but he’s still moving. Moving….fast. Maybe even getting faster.

Should that be happening? He doesn’t really kayak. He shifts around a little bit and looks down, and feels a little bit tucked in here. 

“Hey!” Tony yells. “You’re moving like you have a motor on you!”

Peter’s brows furrow, because he is, and he’s not rowing, and he should have lost any propulsion at this point, and he looks up and he sees MJ looking back at him, and she’s not moving anymore, and he glances back and both Tony and Ned look concerned—

And he gets the worst feeling in his chest, like an alarm, like his spidey sense but more warped and panicked, and he tries to get up without toppling over, because the kayak is still moving for no reason, speeding along and it’s going faster and faster. He drops his oar, and balances precariously for a few seconds before he leaps into the water.

Bubbles all around him, and muffled calls of his name—

And he’s only submerged for a couple seconds, because of the life jacket pulling him back to the surface, and he comes up just in time to watch the empty kayak lift up into the air, careening into the forest and disappearing into the trees. 

And he floats there, treading water, staring.

“What the fuck?” Ned yells. “Peter? Peter?”

“Peter!” MJ yells.

“Pete, we’re coming!” Tony yells. “Hold on!”

But Peter is just sort of. Staring. Staring off, at where the kayak disappeared. He stares over there. He stares. 

No thoughts, just. Insane.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Peter asks, his voice squeaking. “Is that—MJ you should probably—you shouldn’t be in there if you’re not, uh, prepared to go—flying—did anybody see it explode? Did it explode? Or did it just shatter, uh, well, wooden—wooden kayak, was it wooden? Or plastic? Either way I bet it’s not a full kayak anymore—”

He feels himself being lifted out of the water, and it’s Tony pulling him into the boat. He doesn’t know how they got here so fast but to be honest a kayak just went full fighter jet on him so he can’t be that confused. 

His shock has him gripped and he just sort of lays there like a rag doll as Tony and Ned pull him up, and he sees MJ rowing over to them. Thankfully, she’s still in her kayak, and it’s not—flying through the air.

“Hey, hey,” Tony says, once Peter isn’t in the water anymore. He’s got both arms around him, and Peter is laying against his chest, and Tony is patting his cheek and trying to peer around and meet his eyes. Ned has his hands on Peter’s knees and he’s just staring at him. 

“I just got a defective one,” Peter says, pointing over at the forest. “It’s okay. It was just—a flying one, we didn’t make sure we didn’t get a flying one. I hope MJ doesn’t have a flying one and it’s just not like. On a time delay I don’t know. MJ, just—hurry over here—” He waves her over. He wants her to hurry up. 

“Peter,” Tony says, and he pats Peter’s chest. “Are you alright? Did you twist anything when you jumped out, can you breathe—”

“Are kayaks supposed to do that?” Peter asks, feeling like he can hear his own voice echoing everywhere. “I didn’t think that was, uh, the case—”

“It’s not the case,” Ned says. “No. It’s not. It’s not the case.”

“Peter.”

MJ finally rolls up alongside them—

“I think you should get out of there,” Peter says, pointing at her. “It’s unsafe—”

“Something is going on,” MJ says, and she’s not looking at Peter. She’s looking at Tony.

~

Tony loves this kid, and this is supposed to be a fucking vacation. Tony loves this kid, and he believed him when he thought someone was in his room, even if the hotel was trying to sway them away from the idea. Tony loves this kid, and he just had to watch him abandon his kayak because said kayak was lifting off and destroying itself somewhere on the property. And kayaks don’t just fucking do that.

Tony stands close to Happy, well into his personal space. He’s got his hands on his hips, like a stern stance is gonna bring him any closer to an answer, and Happy sighs.

“I’ve done ten sweeps,” he says. “There’s nothing going on. There’s nobody here that isn’t supposed to be here. We even looked at the remains of the goddamn kayak and I didn’t find anything wrong with it.”

“There was something wrong with it,” Tony says. “It was flying. It was flying, speed wise, without Pete even rowing, and then it was flying, literally, after he had to abandon ship.”

“I know. It was in a million pieces.”

Tony sighs. They moved down to the Grove Lodge after it happened. Nobody told Pepper and May why, because Peter was insisting on not telling May, and he was also insisting on not leaving even though Tony wanted to leave, because if they left then they were leaving danger behind for the poor unassuming Mohonk guests. And if they leave, danger will probably follow them anyway, and Tony doesn’t know what move to make. 

He’s upset, because this was supposed to be a relaxing break for all of them, but especially for Peter, after everything he’s goddamn gone through. He’s upset because this place felt like his place, his haven, a place where he could get away and be secluded and safe, and now something is pursuing them here. Something is trying to hurt them.

“You haven’t found anything?” Tony presses. “Nothing?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Happy says, and he glances back at the front door of the lodge again. “I’m still looking, I’m not giving up, and I think we should be better located down here because we rented out the whole house and I told them not to come in for room service or cleaning or anything. I know we lose the nice high-up view—”

“It’s fine,” Tony says, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s afraid to even be discussing this in public. Anybody could be anywhere listening.

He doesn’t like feeling like he can’t protect these kids. 

“It looks like they’re targeting Peter,” Tony says, as quietly as he can. “And I can’t tell if that’s because of me, that they think—I mean the whole goddamn world thinks he’s my love child at this point, thinks May is my secret mistress or the sister of his secret mother, God knows, I don’t know what the most recent story is. But I can’t tell if they’re targeting him because of me or because of the other thing—”

“And the other thing is worse—the spider thing—”

“I didn’t specify on purpose, Hap,” Tony says, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Right, right—the innocuous other thing—”

“We’re lucky we got out of Europe with the other thing intact—”

“Yeah,” Happy says, shaking his head, and Tony wishes he had been there with him, had been there period. He would have torn Beck in half had he laid eyes on him. 

Why do they always target people he loves? Why not him? Blow him up. Kidnap him. But he guesses he’s been there already. He guesses they’ve done all that and it’s old hat to these assholes to go to him directly.

But this could be about Spider-Man too. There could be people that know who he is. People always find out, no matter how hard Tony tries, and Peter has made plenty of his own enemies. His own gallery of rogues looking to take him down.

“Just don’t tell May, if she asks,” Tony says.

“Oh, and don’t tell Pepper either?” Happy asks, in that stupid voice he uses to make fun of Tony. Tony glares, and Happy glares back. “They know by now something’s going on. They’re not dumb. They’re just not saying anything. But May will beat someone to death with anything she can get her hands on and so will Pepper, so maybe we should be sticking close to them.”

Tony sighs. “I just wanted—”

“I know—”

“And now—”

“I know,” Happy says. “We’re on it. We know it’s real, now, even if these people won’t cop to anything. I’m in their walls. Literally. Maybe I’m doing some things I shouldn’t be.”

Tony steps up onto the porch. “Don’t even tell me.”

“I won’t. But maybe I am.”

~

“Ned, why are you in here while I’m in the bathtub?”

“She’s in here!”

“I’m dating her.”

“Wow, that’s great,” Ned says, not making any move to get up from his spot on the gold lounge chair. “That’s great, I see how things are going. I see what direction we’re heading in.”

Peter scoffs. He warmed up a long time ago, and he’s getting really pruny, but he doesn’t want to get out just yet. He feels like something is gonna happen if he gets out. Like it’s all gonna start up again and maybe the house is gonna explode or their fridge is gonna grow arms and start trying to fight them or something. 

And he isn’t lazy. He’s always ready to fight.

Maybe he’s a little lazy. But not usually. He thought Europe was gonna be a Spider-Man free trip and look how that turned out. And he thought this was going to be calm and relaxing but now it’s become suspicious. And worrying. And he’s torn between leaving and staying and telling May and not telling May and he doesn’t know if she’s in danger too and sometimes he feels like everybody would be safer if he lived out in Alaska somewhere and nobody knew him.

Peter sighs, and MJ rubs his shoulder. Ned is still giving him that look and Peter ignores that look. He’s never been in a little claw-foot tub like this before. Tony doesn’t even have these in the compound. And a bubble bath? He hasn’t had a bubble bath since he was a kid and Ben was still alive. It almost distracts him from… whatever the hell is going on here.

“We’ve got two more days,” MJ says. “And we’re sticking it out.”

“We’re sticking it out,” Peter says. “I got my webshooters, I guess I’ll wear them if we go hiking tomorrow.”

“Someone is gonna push you off a cliff,” Ned says, raising his eyebrows. 

“We’re all going together, so nobody is gonna push anybody,” MJ says. She leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of Peter’s mouth. “Okay let’s leave so he can—get out.”

They both get up, and Peter watches as they argue.

“Oh, you’re not gonna help him?” Ned asks.

“Oh, you’re not?” MJ replies, nudging him as they move towards the door. “I thought that was your job, guy in the chair—”

~

They have dinner in the main building, and Peter watches his back. He only jumps once, when someone drops a tray full of plates, and he winces at the shattering and runs over there to help clean it up before they usher him away. They visit the horses in the stables, and Peter checks every nook and cranny to make sure somebody isn’t hiding in there. They watch May and Happy bust into the late jazz class that’s going on in the ballroom and Peter forgets to do anything because he feels like his face is going to catch on fire from all the blushing.

And he remembers to be paranoid when they get back to the Grove Lodge, and he can tell May is suspicious and they’re all watching him like hawks and he gets worried that Tony is the real target of whatever is happening here and he’s just a distraction. 

He can’t let anything happen to Tony. He can’t let anything happen to any of them.

Or maybe nothing is happening. And nobody was in their room. And the kayak was just—Parker luck. Too much strength, or something. 

He wakes up around three in the morning because he can’t stay asleep, and he sits down in the ‘great room’ and stares out into the darkness of the night. 

“Don’t jump,” Tony’s voice says, but Peter jumps anyway, twisting around and seeing him on the stairs. “You jumped! I said don’t jump! You heard me, I said it—”

Peter snorts, shaking his head. “You can’t just tell me not to jump and expect me not to jump—especially if you’re stepping out of the shadows—”

“There’s no shadows,” Tony says, stepping off the landing. “No shadows. I’m fully illuminated—”

Peter sighs. “You can’t sleep either?”

“Nah,” Tony says, walking over quietly. “Sleep and I, we have a very contemptuous relationship.” He shakes his head. “I just feel like shit because you can’t have a normal vacation. Whatever the hell is or isn’t going on here. You just deserve—Jesus, a full day, at the least, without something happening you have to question.” He sits down next to Peter and lets out a sigh.

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

“I mean—it might be. We’ve seen Europe as an example of very much my fault.”

Peter narrows his eyes at him. “That wasn’t your fault either. You know it wasn’t your fault, idiots blaming you for their own stupidity is not your fault—”

A huge crash outside. It sounds like one of those big weird planters falling over and knocking into the other planters and then it sounds like a bunch of feet shuffling and this isn’t Parker luck, this isn’t a hallucination, this isn’t a kayak doing non-kayak like things—

They both leap out of their chairs. The noises don’t stop and Tony is immediately stepping in front of Peter and holding his arm out, as if to shield him.

“Kid, go back upstairs—”

“No,” Peter whisper-shouts, grabbing his arm as the two of them move forward very, very slowly towards the back porch doors. “You almost died recently—you’re wearing pajamas and a house coat—”

“You don’t even know what a house coat is—”

Another crash, more skittering feet, and Peter focuses—he can hear separate heartbeats from the hearts he loves in this house. Two of them.

“Tony I’ve got my webshooters on—”

“That doesn’t matter you’re wearing pajamas too you’re not prepared—”

And when they’re just close enough to open the door, there’s a flash of bright white light. And Peter closes his eyes against it, and he can feel Tony turning around, trying to block him from it, and it must be more than just light because he hears a loud bang and the windows are shattering and it feels like a cataclysmic boom is pushing them through the air. The two of them fly backwards, and hit the far wall, and the last thing Peter hears before his head snaps back too far is 

GOD DAMMIT ALFIE YOU’RE TWO SECONDS TOO EARLY WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS JUMPING THE—

~

Peter gasps awake. His gasp echoes, and he sits up, and looks around, and he’s…nowhere.

He scrambles to his feet. He’s alone, and he’s nowhere, there’s nothing but blackness and his ears are popping like he’s high up and he sees—

He sees—

A kayak? Flying through the darkness? 

He watches it, cascading like a majestic bird, and he stares at it, and then it just—blinks out of existence. Like it was never even there.

Maybe he’s just dreaming. Maybe he never even woke up and went downstairs and talked to Tony. Maybe none of that happened at all. Maybe he’s still asleep and Ned is snoring somewhere and MJ is saying not beets in the salad in her sleep again and maybe—

God dammit, Alfie, I swear. I swear I’m gonna whack you in the head.

Peter spins around, in the complete darkness. He can see himself, his own body and his hands and his pajamas and his webshooters, like he’s got a spotlight on him. “Hello?” he calls. “What the hell is—whoever that is—”

And then the London Bridge appears huge and massive above his head and he starts to duck, nearly collapsing in on himself, and there’s no way this is actually happening this isn’t real and he shoots a web at it and it goes right through it and it hits—somewhere—somewhere in the darkness, it sticks, it—

ALFIE I THINK THEY’RE BOTH—

I KNOW IT I CAN TELL OKAY I’M NOT MORONIC—

It clicks in Peter’s head. This is someone using Beck’s tech. It’s someone using Beck’s tech. That’s what this is. This is some idiots using his tech and not knowing how to use it properly and—

Peter starts yelling. “Whoever you are, you’re—you’re not good at this—this isn’t gonna work out for you—”

The bridge disappears, and Peter starts running. His spidey sense is going berserk, and he can’t tell where the danger is, what direction, how far. He can’t tell what’s underneath his feet, it feels—crunchy, and a little old, maybe? All he knows is he needs to get the hell out of this illusion. It feels unstable.

He starts shooting his webs everywhere, and most of them fly away without hitting anything, and that makes him wonder where the hell he could be with so much space—

STARK IS DOING SOMETHING WITH HIS AI—

Peter’s heart lurches.

“Tony!” Peter yells, still running, and he holds his hands out and tries to find something, anything, and he shoots webs fucking everywhere, and then—

SHIT—

He runs right into someone. And they push him off, and then he gets a brass-knuckled fist to the face before he can get a hit off of his own. He stumbles backwards through the sharp pain, wrestling with the instinct to just fight even though it’s only darkness all around him and he can’t see who the hell he’s fighting with. 

Instead, he spits out a line of blood and keeps running.

Pulsing, face pulsing, beating with ripped skin and metal—

A massive kayak blips into the air briefly, and then it disappears.

Peter narrows his eyes, shaking his head, and what the hell is with the kayak—

He runs smack into something, like a train going accordion against a wall, and he stumbles backwards again, clutching at his crushed nose and trying to stay on his feet. The punch and the goddamn running into whatever that was has him dizzy, has him mangled and seeing stars in this manufactured darkness and then he hears Tony hollering his name at the top of his lungs—

“Peter! Peter!”

He sounds like he’s behind him—

“Tony!” Peter yells, all nasally. “Tony! Hey I’m over here—”

He turns around, changing his trajectory. And the darkness blips, breaking in large pixels, and Peter keeps running towards Tony’s voice and the darkness blips again, turns bright white, and then—

The illusion, or lack of one, breaks all at once, and Peter can see—

He’s on the roof of the main Mohonk building—he can see the lake, and the forest, and the mountains, settled in the calm of the night that feels decidedly not calm for him in particular, and he skids to a halt because he’s nearly running off the roof—

And he feels someone grab his arm and tug him back, and he spins around and it’s Tony, thank God it’s Tony—

“Hey!” Tony yells, and Peter looks at him and grabs his arm and they both look up and—

There are just two guys standing there. Two guys, both on the shorter side, definitely unkempt, and they’re holding a little gray box and they’re both just hitting it and hitting it and hitting it—

Peter aims his webs and just starts shooting. He feels like he shoots the most amount of webs he’s ever shot. The two guys fly backwards and get stuck to one of the upraised red parts of the roof, and they’re both gritting their teeth and trying to get out like they’re Scooby Doo villains.

“They must be associated with Beck,” Peter says, trying to catch his breath. His entire mouth tastes like blood. “They’ve gotta be.”

“I figured, with their shitty illusion attempts,” Tony says, and he sounds angrier than Peter’s ever heard him. He glances at Peter, starts to glance away, but then he looks at him again, fast, his brows furrowing severely. “Jesus Christ, you’re—bleeding everywhere—”

“Yeah, it feels—it doesn’t feel good—they didn’t hit you?” Peter asks.

Tony takes Peter’s chin gently, tilting his head and wincing. “No,” he says. “They didn’t goddamn hit me—”

“Well, the nose was from—running into something—I think that, uh, I think that’s a chimney over there, I think I ran into it—you didn’t run into anything—”

“No, I didn’t—”

“Oh, that’s great—”

Tony looks like he’s about to breathe fire, and he lets go of Peter and starts stomping towards the webbed bad guys.

“Why the hell would you be loyal to a moron like him?” Tony asks. “Beck? He couldn’t even keep a job at Stark Industries—”

“Yeah, buddy, because you stole his idea,” one of them hollers. They’re both still wiggling around, trying to get out.

Tony sneers. “He worked for my company executing an idea I designed and commissioned and decided to weaponize it when it was created to help deal with trauma and mental health—have you never had a job, an occupation—you know what, I don’t care, I don’t care—”

“Well he didn’t say that, he didn’t say any of that exactly,” the other guy says, the one with the longer hair. “He just said—”

“Nothing he says is true,” Peter yells, wincing when he touches his nose. “That guy is a liar, and a freak, and you believed him enough to follow us on vacation and—screw up every attempt you made to kill us—it was one of you guys in my room—”

“No, that was just testin’, that was just—we was just testin’, it was—you guys acted really dramatic—”

Peter scoffs. “Dramatic?”

And the two guys start giving each other nasty looks, even though they’re webbed shoulder to shoulder. “Maybe if you hadn’t dropped that dart gun in the lobby when they first got here—”

“Maybe if you hadn’t fallen out of the tree—”

“Maybe if you had made the goddamn kayak explode instead of fly—”

“Stop!” Tony yells, cutting his hands through the air like an angry teacher. “Stop. Stop. I’ve never wanted to hear Boston accents less. Stop. You’re arrested. We’ve arrested you.”

“You can’t do that, the Avengers aren’t cops,” the shorter one says. He’s got a tattoo on his neck that says GOLDBARES with a Haribo bear icon and Peter squints at it and he feels like his entire face hurts worse just from seeing it.

“You’ve committed several crimes,” Tony says, still pointing at them. “It’s—my personal security already—”

There’s a click. A very loud click. And both guys clam up real quick.

“What was that?” Tony asks.

Peter’s spidey sense is—ratcheting up, clear into his teeth—

“Tony!” he yells, because it feels like something is coming, and, just like in the Grove Lodge, there’s a big boom and they’re blown backwards by a seismic wave—

And they’re launched off the roof, and it feels like they’re moving in slow motion, through the dead dark of the night and the reflection of the lake, and Peter screams like a moron. He just screams, and then he shoots a web right at Tony and pulls him in with it, and then he shoots a web at the building and swings back around with him. 

They don’t land well, because Peter’s brain is on the backburner and there’s nothing on the front, and they roll in a heap, Peter tucking his face into Tony’s shoulder. When they come to a halt Tony pulls back, sitting up and touching Peter’s cheek.

“You in there?”

“I’m in there. Here,” Peter says, and he feels like he’s bleeding worse, somehow. “Did they blow up? Did those guys blow up? It sounded like they blew up.”

“We didn’t blew up we’re still over here but maybe I wish we woulda blew up because—”

And they start shouting at each other, but Peter tries to tune them out.

“Thank God you brought those things,” Tony says, tapping Peter’s wrist. “Thanks, bud.”

Peter blows out a breath, shaking his head and still just. Laying there. “Oh yeah, no problem. All good, just—completely normal.”

Tony sighs, and his eyes cut to the side. “Any other late traps ready to explode?” he yells, over his shoulder.

They stop arguing with each other. There’s a brief silence. 

“Uh. I honestly got no idea. We just brought the whole bag of tricks, I don’t know. There’s shit everywhere.”

Tony looks at Peter, slowly shaking his head.

“Fantastic,” Peter says. “Wonderful.”

~

“So, you weren’t in there watching us when we were getting our nails done in the spa?” Pepper asks. “I thought it was weird. I told May it was weird. That was these guys—”

Tony scoffs, and he feels like he instantly gets a headache, a migraine—

“Of course I wasn’t—of course—you thought I was just standing there? Staring at you in the spa? You didn’t think that was out of the ordinary—”

Pepper gives him a look, and Peter laughs from the hammock behind them.

“Yeah, when I went to get my nails done later you kept walking in and out,” Happy says. “But I thought you were just—I don’t know what I thought. But then you told me about the kayak thing later and I thought—well—I attributed it to that.”

“Happy went and got his nails done,” Ned whispers, somewhere behind Tony, too. “We could do that?”

“Who’s stopping you?” MJ says, quiet.

“Well, the whole—the whole situation stopped me, I guess, but I didn’t really think about it—”

“I’m glad it wasn’t you staring at us,” May says, standing near the railing and peering out into her binoculars. “Pepper said it was normal, but it was concerning me.”

Tony glares at Pepper, but she just bats her eyes at him like the picture of innocence.

“Sometimes Peter does that to me,” May says. “Just stares at me from behind a Lucky Charms box in the kitchen. That’s how I know something’s wrong.”

Tony snorts, and he turns around as soon as Peter starts protesting.

“I do not!” Peter says, shifting around in the hammock. “I do not do that.”

“It sounds like something you’d do,” Ned says.

“You’ve done that to me,” MJ says, clearing her throat.

Peter huffs, and everyone laughs at him, and Tony tries not to laugh too hard, because this started with his own wife acting like she thinks he’s capable of acting like some weirdo who stands around staring at people.

Tony sighs. He turns around, walking over and peering down at Peter. He braces his hand on the tree his hammock is attached to. “How’s the nose?” Tony asks.

“Broken.”

“It’s not broken anymore, we reset it.”

“It knows it was broken. I know too.”

He’s still got the butterfly bandages on the bridge of his nose, and it’s bruised and angry looking. He’s got a burst blood vessel in his eye, and the white part is dipped with red. Tony feels like shit because he got out of the whole ordeal relatively unscathed. Just a few bumps and bruises. Some whiplash. But Peter broke his nose again.

They hiked up to the Sky Top Tower, and the kids wanted to hang out once they got up here. They all thought Peter had earned the hammock. Happy refused to come, and he’s in charge of the security situation, anyway, so he couldn’t exactly abandon it to do a hike he didn’t want to do. 

They had to clear the whole damn resort out to get rid of any remaining traps and illusions. Tony had to bring in a whole team. Rhodey made fun of him on the phone when Tony told him, laughing for a good five minutes.

And sure, it’s stupid. Those guys are stupid and they had no idea what the hell they were doing, they couldn’t even attack properly. But that’s what happens when stupid people follow more powerful stupid people. They hold grudges. They make up shit in their heads. They cause problems.

And it’s never really funny when Peter is bloody at the end of it.

“I feel like I’m sinking,” Peter says, his brows furrowing.

He reaches out his hand, and Tony takes it, and he pulls him out of the hammock as MJ and Ned push on his shoulders. Peter groans like he’s a hundred years old, and Tony claps him on the shoulder.

May looks away from her binoculars. “How you doing, honeybunch?”

“Fine,” Peter says, letting go of Tony’s hand. “Incredible. Amazing.”

“Just a normal day for a hero,” Pepper says. “MJ, you’ll get used to it, May, you’ll never get used to it—”

“And Ned,” Ned says to himself. “You will be there every step of the way.”

Tony looks at Peter, and he wants to apologize. For all of it, for being a hero at all, for the goddamn radioactive spider at Oscorp and everything that came after. For stupid morons like Quentin Beck, who know the quickest way to hurt Tony is to attack this kid he’s nearly adopted as his own.

He doesn’t know what the hell to say, because Peter wouldn’t accept his apologies anyway. He never would. Peter is just appreciative of every moment. Even if the moments aren’t ideal.

“We’ve got the whole place to ourselves,” Tony says. “How about we have a pie bar when we head back down there? I can tip the kitchen staff two hundred percent when I ask. I don’t think anybody would be pissed off.”

He sees May smiling softly at him over Peter’s shoulder. Trust in her eyes, even after all this bullshit.

“Can there be…at least four key limes?” Peter asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Four or five,” Tony says, ruffling his hair. “Or six or seven. Depending on the number of ovens in the joint.”

Peter grins at him, still bright and lively, despite everything.

Maybe they can salvage this vacation yet.

[miss-sweetea-pie]

A zutara rant about Aunt Wu’s prediction.

As a proud Zutarian I personally love the idea about aunt Wu’s prediction that she gave Katara about marrying a powerful bender is actually hinting at Zuko being the guy.

But I did see some antics mention “Zuko isn’t a powerful bender and it’s mentioned a lot that he’s not that good, they didn’t even think he was a fire bender bah bah”

First off that’s very rude!

So let’s over, analyze the fortune teller episode. Looking back on that episode we noticed that Aunt Wu’s predictions are technically accurate, but not always as they seem. this gets confirmed by the end of the episode and how that one man smugly tells Sokka that the prediction, said the village wouldn’t be destroyed and it wasn’t. Or that one guy having a safe trip and almost getting attacked by a platypus Bear but the gang saves him, technically, he still had a safe trip.

So the whole prediction is “ I see great romance for you the man you’re going to marry, he is a very powerful bender.” 

(technically that wasn’t actually the whole prediction, considering A.ang was eavesdropping  and well Kat@ang is all about A.ang and his feelings but I digress)

So the first half I guess is more about your taste in romance. I don’t think or feel like the canon kat@ang is this great epic romantic personality. But hey i’m willing to admit it could just be my taste. However the show does give us an example of a really powerful romances between Oma and Shu. In story lore of a romance that is so great it has been remembered for centuries and has a city named after them and ironically it has the famous enemies to lovers trope. hmm Interesting.

What I can defend though is the part that mentions “the man you will marry is a very powerful bender” you see A.ang it is a very powerful bender and once he is a fully realized avatar, he will probably be considered the most powerful bender. but like I pointed out Aunt Wu’s  predictions have a catch or they’re not always as you expect. And she said, A (not most) very powerful bender that could technically be anyone right? considering there are masters for all the different elements and being considered a master is still very impressive and seen as an accomplishment Even if you are not the avatar. So her future husband could be a possible Master. Adding the fact that most of the masters are old so this person could not even be fully realized yet, Insert Zuko.

So people mention that he isn’t that great of a bender or he’s not that powerful and yes, the show does mention that, but also who tells us that? Oh right. His dad the literal villain. The people that try to put him down tell him that he isn’t good enough. personally, I also think the show try to contradict that by showing us moments. for example in book one he did take down Zhao and showed him mercy. (when I watch the show, I think Zuko is actually holding back a lot of the time because he does have a consciences. his whole arc was kick started by him, having a conscience  and being empathetic so I don’t think it’s crazy to imagine him holding back a little). so when Ozai calls Zuko weak it’s kind of similar to how he calls A.ang weak in the finale. But no one questions A.ang not being a powerful bender. Hmmm weird.

Also, the other reason why I think Zuko being the one in the prediction is just better for the story is because the idea that you can become a powerful bender just feels so satisfying to me. In the show people still need to find masters and grow their skills. we are shown that people get better at things over time if they apply themselves. I think that’s a really good lesson. A similar lesson is already applied with Katara I may add, so it’s pretty fitting in a way.

Also the fact that he learns the true meaning of fire bending adds a nice layer of depth. it isn’t just about the skill of fire bending It’s also about the mindset. It really goes to show how he really has become a better and powerful bender in the end.

[missbluesunflowersstuff]

Gotham being a fuck up City once more

Gotham is a City with a lot of problems, Jason Todd knows it very well. And this is not about the pollution, corruption or the villains but the city itself is like that. The City is vile, dirty and knows how to make your old wounds bleed.

And sometimes Jason really hates Gotham because of this, the City plays with everyone and anyone. Oracle sent some messages to everyone, saying something about weird supernatural shit happens and everyone should be careful that night while Batman is working... Well Jason don't care.

Jason Todd is having a shit week and he is fucking tired! He just wants to go home and sleep - and maybe some beer and shower. Be the whatever shit is batman doing now it's definitely not his problem.

And Jason actually did it! He manages to avoid his siblings the whole way to the safe house. but before entering he sees a woman sitting against the door, his whole body freezes and he regrets not having paid attention to the warning because Jason knows that woman. And she definitely doesn't should be there.

"Jason" the woman got up and smiled at him, "look at you... You become so tall"

Jason's first instinct is run, but his body doesn't move, he barely can think

"look at your hands" Catharine keeps smiling and holds her son's hands, there's so much sweetie in her voice "I remember when you were a baby, your hands were so tiny, both of your hands fit in one of mine... look at you now... this time I'm the one who has to use two hands to hold one of yours"

Jason doesn't want to believe in it! She was dead! He knows it! She died years ago... But...but...

Catherine lets go of Jason's hand when she notices that her son is silent

"I understand, you must be angry with me... I'm sorry..." she starts to walk away, after all, what kind of mother was she?

That was enough for Jason to panic, whatever that was in front of him, he wasn't going to let it go that easily. He didn't understand why his parents always abandoned him, but whatever it was, he wanted to keep her there a little more

"I... I... I hurt people, mom..I hurt so many people" Jason doesn't know what makes him say that, at all the things he should say he chose. Why can't he do nothing right?

Catherine looks for her son again, She brings her hand to his face, wiping away the soft tears that have started to fall.

When did Jason start crying?

"You were trying to protect someone, weren't you? I know who you are Jason, you are my son, I raised you... you must have become such a smart man, do you still like books? I remember you loved going to the public library to read, it was a free trip so we walked there every weekend"

Jason hates it. Why Gotham keep tutoring him like that? Why Gotham keep doing this?

and the rest of the night the boy and his mom are just talking with each other in the same way they did before the drugs... She asked about the books he was reading at that time, his friends, if he had someone in his life...

They talked for hours but not enough... And then she disappears before the sun rises followed by the Oracle message "situation over control now, everything will be normal for now on"

And Jason starts sobbing on the floor again. He definitely hates how Gotham plays with everyone

[laundrybiscuits]

(continued from Part 1)

Steve takes the train in, because there’s no place to park on Eddie and Robin’s street. He’s always driven before, and it makes him a little nervous to be leaving his car behind, but Robin keeps saying it’ll be fine.

“We’ve got great transit here!” she says, and Steve wonders when we started meaning Robin and Eddie and all the people who aren’t Steve. “I mean, the buses are kind of shitty sometimes. And don’t ever talk to strangers on the Red Line. But as long as you don’t live too far west, you can get pretty much anywhere in the city without a car. You won’t miss it, Steve, I swear.”

He does miss it a little, as he gets off the train at Union Station. He feels weirdly unprotected with nothing between him and the crush of people swarming through the high-ceilinged halls. It makes him feel over-sensitive and small, pulled along by the crowd because he knows better than to stop in the middle of the station and stare at a map like some small-town dumbass.

Eddie’s waiting on the steps outside the station.

He looks good. He’s bundled up in a leather jacket and scarf; he pulls a hand out of his pocket to give a half-hearted wave. He doesn’t go to meet Steve halfway or anything, he just stands there and waits for Steve to make it out.

“Eddie,” says Steve, when he gets close enough. He almost goes for a hug, but shifts to a shoulder-clap at the last minute. “Good to see you, man.”

“Heya, Harrington. Robin couldn’t get out of work early enough, so she made me promise to shepherd you directly to our door. Don’t want you getting lost in the mean streets of Chicago, huh?”

Eddie doesn’t wait for him to respond, just grabs Steve’s suitcase and starts walking fast. Steve has to scramble to keep up.

———

Steve whistles when he gets into the new place. It’s bigger than he was expecting, with a bay window looking over a little courtyard from the living room.

“Nice digs,” he says.

Eddie laughs. “I know it’s not exactly like what you’ve got in Hawkins. Robbie says you’ve got a whole house with a yard and shit. Living the dream.”

Steve stamps down on the weird feeling he gets hearing Eddie say Robbie so casually. They’re friends. They live together. It’s fine.

“No, I mean it.” Steve takes a good look around, wandering over to peer out the bay window. “This is nice. Better than the last place Robin had.”

Eddie unwinds his scarf, dumping it on a chair. “That’s for damn sure, at least. You want anything to drink?”

“Sure,” says Steve. He’s not really thirsty, but it’s something to do.

Eddie hands him a beer, and they stand in silence for an awkward moment.

“So…how’ve you been?” asks Steve. He thinks the instinct to make small talk is probably baked into him.

Eddie shrugs. “Not so bad. Been playing some gigs, teaching a little at the music school. Getting by.”

Eddie flops down on the couch and takes a drink from his own beer, not looking at Steve, so Steve takes the opportunity to have a good look at Eddie.

It’s been about two years since the last time he saw Eddie. It’s kinda funny; after everything, he’d kind of had this crazy idea that Eddie would fold right into their little Hawkins monster-hunting troop. Like maybe he’d have someone around who wasn’t his ex or under fifteen or Robin Buckley. Because he loves Robin more than he knew he could love another human being, but Eddie’s something else entirely; something he thought could’ve fit into his life pretty well, given the chance.

It hadn’t happened, though. Steve had gone to visit him nearly every damn day in the hospital, usually with Dustin in tow, just hanging out for a couple hours with him and Max. It hadn’t been a hardship to keep them company. In fact, it got so the hospital visits were the highlight of Steve’s day, just getting to hear Eddie tell his wild stories to try and make Max laugh. It had felt really good to be there with them.

Apparently Eddie hadn’t been on the same page, because Steve hadn’t even fucking known when Eddie left the hospital. He’d just showed up by himself one day for visiting hours and was told oh, Mr. Munson was discharged on Thursday. Steve hadn’t even had a shift on Thursday. He could’ve driven Eddie home.

Anyway, Steve could take a hint. He’d tried again a few times, inviting Eddie to hang out, just the two of them; but Eddie always seemed to be busy, and then before he knew it, Eddie'd been hunching against the February chill in the Hendersons’ back yard and saying I won’t ask. And that was pretty much that.

[catreginae]

Going to round out the day with some of my own headcanons for Warriors instead of posting whatever land in my inbox.

He's either aroace or aro + bisexual. I use both, depending on what I want for a fic. Either way, I don't see him enjoying or seeking romance whenever I work with him.

He has big family energy to me. Not only does he have a lot of siblings, but he also a fair amount of cousins because his mom also has siblings. He's one of the older kids but not the oldest. He takes after his mother the most. He barely shares anything with his dad and people are shocked that they're related.

He comes from a tailoring family! It's the family business! Although he's not interesting in taking over the shop, he does help out whenever he takes a leave to visit family because he still enjoys it. Warriors helps the chain out when they get new clothes that could use better fitting or if there's something that needs to be fixed. Warriors has definitely sketched out interesting designs he sees in other eras to bring back to his family.

Warriors comes from a trading town, so he saw all sorts of people growing up and it helped him ease into life in the city when he did leave. He's not a country boy but he's not exactly a city boy either. I like the idea that he kind of picks up whatever accent he hears as a result.

He has army friends! For every traitor in the ranks, there's a friend who keeps an eye out for them and watches his back. Most attempts after the war don't even reach Warriors because his friends have gotten pretty good at spotting suspicious people and preventing them from doing anything.

He went mute during the war when he suddenly went from a cadet in training to a hero. He quickly became aware of how important his words would be and the pressure sort of got him. Proxi helped out a lot until he was comfortable enough in his role to use his words again.

Speaking of Proxi, I like to think she and Warriors have a deep bond that's kind of telepathic in nature? They don't exactly read or know each other's thoughts but they definitely know what the other his feeling. She flies into his chest when they first meet, so I like to think this brought about some weird effects for the both of them.

[aethersea]

📓!

There’s an atla au of star wars that I have tried so hard to bend into a shape that I can actually write, but alas, all I have are ideas. This is the one that’s in the wips folder as Everything Changed when the Clones Attacked, which is ironic bc I cannot for the life of me figure out what to do with the clones. Maybe they’re being brainwashed at Lake Laogai? Or something???

Anyway. The story has two parts, prequels and sequels. Details under the cut, because this got a bit long.

In the prequels, the elderly Master Yoda of the airbenders is Avatar, and in his old age he’s stopped traveling the world and instead dispenses his wisdom from one of the great Air Nomad temples, nestled deep in the mountains where only Air Nomads can reach. He’s unofficial leader of the council of Air Nomad elders, which is….not great, really, not how things should be, but it’s mostly been okay. He’s been a good avatar overall, and it’s only in later years that he’s leaned so heavily toward the Air Nomads, and really none of this is enough to push the four peoples truly out of balance. 

Our story starts with Qui-gon Jinn, an airbending master traveling with his apprentice, helping a besieged queen from a minor Earth Kingdom escape her city. (I saw a post once asserting that the Earth Kingdom is actually a collection of largely autonomous kingdoms that all loosely recognize the authority of the Earth King in Ba Sing Se, and I like that a lot, so that’s the worldbuilding I’m going with here.) Qui-gon agrees to take Queen Amidala to the Avatar’s council to beg their aid. 

Along the way, they encounter a young boy living with his mother. The boy can do a bit of earthbending—and also a bit of waterbending, and a bit of airbending, and a bit of firebending. Which is impossible, because Avatar Yoda isn’t dead, but there he is, bending all the elements anyway.

I don’t think there’s slavery in the atla universe, but we could probably get away with indentured servitude of some kind, and Qui-gon acquires Ani in much the same way as he does in canon. He takes him to Avatar Yoda—and Yoda rejects him. Says, essentially, “This is weird as hell but it’s also not my problem.” (Frankly I can’t come up with an actual good reason for Yoda to do that, but just go with me here.) So Qui-gon angrily responds that if the Avatar won’t take responsibility, he will, and then gets himself enmeshed in Amidala’s political problems to boot. 

And then he dies.

Something something evil emperor, yadda yadda you know the drill. (Though I think the empire isn’t going to be the Fire Nation, despite the thematic appropriateness of fire spreading unchecked to consume all in its path. Palpatine is gonna usurp the Earth King, I think, and I do feel the prequels’ themes around entrenched systems with deep flaws, which are too big to fight as individuals and too implacable to change, will fit well with atla themes around earth.)

The sequels portion of things is even less plotted out. All I know is that Luke grows up in the same nameless patch of Earth territory his father grew up in, and he doesn’t actually discover he can waterbend until he’s practically an adult. It’s a shock to everyone—except, somehow, weird Old Ben who lives in the desert, who tells him that the next Avatar is supposed to be a waterbender, and won’t explain why he’s so convinced Luke is that Avatar given that he’s pretty emphatically not from the Water Tribes. 

Luke is finally convinced when he manages to airbend, under Old Ben’s suspiciously skilled tutelage. He can’t pull off any other elements, though, so they go off on a road trip to that swamp where you see spirits, to try to reach the past Avatars and get some guidance.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to both of them, Leia has grown up knowing she can firebend. This is kind of an alarming skill for the princess of an Earth Kingdom to have, and even more alarming given that she’s already an earthbender. So she’s kept it secret, and no one but her parents has ever known.

They can meet in some way analogous to the Death Star raid in A New Hope, idk I have zero plot in mind here. The point, as far as I’m concerned, is that the Skywalkers have fundamentally broken the Avatar cycle. Anakin shouldn’t exist, and yet he does, and he was born while Yoda was still alive. If he hadn’t existed, the next Avatar would be a waterbender, and that’s Luke—except he’s from the Earth Kingdom. If Anakin is a true Avatar, then the next one would be an earthbender, and that’s Leia—only then she shouldn’t have been born until after Anakin’s death. Nothing makes sense! Even Yoda and all the other past Avatars together have no goddamn clue what is going on!

Imagine their consternation when they discover that neither Luke nor Leia is the Avatar: it’s actually both of them together. Luke has air and water, Leia has earth and fire; Luke can visit the spirit world and be the bridge between humans and spirits, and Leia can speak to kings and maintain the balance between the four nations. The two of them, together, can defeat their father, defeat the emperor, and restore harmony to the world.

[caxycreations]

Who is Caxy Creations?

This will be broken into the following sections:

About Me Other Blogs This Blog's Purpose Tylvinian Tales Resources Commissions Other Ways to Support Me

It gets a little wordy, so the actual introduction post stuff is below the cut.

About Me

Caxy Creations, simply put, is my brand. So to really explain who Caxy Creations is, let's cover who I am.

My name is Davina. I also answer to: David, Caxy, or "Hey bitch~!" (/pos)

Some quick facts about me:

Labels are weird to me, transgender/genderfluid/agender and other things like that just...idk, they don't fit. I answer to she/her most comfortably, but I don't feel inherently she/her or he/him or they/them or anything else. I'm just...Me. So call me whatever pronouns you want, I'm a little of everything.

I'm an artist AND a writer, but far more a writer than an artist.

I stream on Twitch whenever I can, and whenever I have excuse/reason to. Can find my Twitch by clicking HERE.

I absolutely adore interaction of all kinds, but reciprocal interaction is my favorite: if you comment or ask a question, I absolutely will answer because I adore conversation.

I am single, and not looking for a relationship. This does not mean I won't flirt with you, especially if you're down to flirt back for the fun of it and understand it won't go any further.

I'm a system. Alters have their own blogs @kittycaxcare and @guardiangreatwolf

I am the sole developer of the upcoming visual novel, "Another Tylvinian Tale", a story about settling into a new life, making connections with those around you, and the impact those connections have on each other.

Other Blogs

@caxygaming (Video Game Review, Discussion, and Gaming News, with reader interaction heavily encouraged)

@caxyadrp (18+ RP account, Minors DNI)

@caxycreationsvrc (VRChat Photography and Videography account)

@yappincaxy (Voice Acting blog)

@caxyanalysis (Nerd snipe blog, analyzing theories, power scaling, hypotheticals, etc of real world and fictional topics/concepts)

@lewdcaxycatalogue - (Fully NSFW 18+ writing/musings account, Minors and antis DNI, teratophilia and a safe space for sex positivity)

@classpectingcaxy (homestuck fanblog where I analyze and assign classes, aspects, and lunar sways)

@thebrokenrubber (Another 18+ RP account with a unique system)

@lustycaisupervised (an 18+ Lackadaisy-based Mordecai RP blog)

This Blog's Purpose

This blog is going to serve as two things: a compendium of all knowledge relating to Relan, a planet of my own design with its own history, religions, sciences, magics, and more, as well as a collection of stories about the people living on Relan. Some quick things to cover about Relan, for those interested:

I am 100% okay with OCs. If someone likes my world enough to make a character to throw into it, that is, to me, the ultimate compliment.

If you need/want help integrating your OCs into Relan, I am absolutely down to help with all the resources I have on the world.

Don't know if a species exists on Relan? Well, every single animal species on Earth exists on Relan, and every mythical being exists as well in some form or another, there's even a few internet-designed species and some entirely original species of my own design! So have fun with it!

Relan is a fantasy world. Ancient times have high fantasy themes and forms, modern times have modern fantasy themes and forms, and future eras have a distinctly science-fiction feel with a hint of magic to them. As such, my stories will usually have these themes and/or forms!

Tylvinian Tales Resources

My WIPs List

(Note, titles and order are subject to change, but position/order is solidified for active WIPs/finished books)

Tylvinian Tales

The Wolf's Den (Active WIP, First Draft Complete, Current Stage: Editing)

Five Fates

Snakepit

King of Kings

Veiled Intent

Clashing Tides

Event Horizon

Panacea

Another Tylvinian Tale

This is my visual novel, where you will be able to create your own character and take your place in Tylvin, the capital city of the nation of Ferus.

You will work as a bartender at the city's most popular nightclub, The Snakepit, putting you at the central hub of many different events. Meet the cast of Tylvinian Tales, and a few fresh faces as well, and develop friendships, or loves, as you see fit.

But know this: every decision you make will change the story, and every choice will have consequences for more than just your own life...

If you would like to support me in making the visual novel, head to the Ko-Fi or PayPal link below (or send to the listed cashapp) in the "Other Ways to Support Me" section and send a donation! Your support allows me to focus full-time on the visual novel, bringing it ever-closer to releasing for all to enjoy!

Galan Nights

The Pack

Hoping for Haven

Runner's High

Twin Tales

The Fifth Fate

Here Be A Home

Lore of Gold

Sanguis Auri (Next WIP)

Corpus Auri

Anima Auri

Character Cast

These characters are the most prominent in my stories, and I've linked to their introductory posts for easy access to information about them:

David Seltz

Moss Seltz

Davina Seltz

Trace Parker

Ryder Trayson

Luka Mikaelson

Olivia Bo

Kaleb Killian

Devon Masters

Zephyr

Tylvinian Tales: The Wolf's Den, Book Pitch

Tylvinian Tales: The Wolf's Den, Chapter Master Post

Full list of all my WIPS - The titles of every single book planned within the world of Relan.

Tylvinian Tales on Wattpad

Tylvinian Tales on AO3

Short Stories on Wattpad

Short Stories on AO3

Smut stories on Wattpad (18+ only!!!!)

Smut stories on AO3 (18+ only!!!!)

Worldbuilding Masterpost - A post with links to every worldbuilding piece I've uploaded so far.

How You Can Support Me - A post detailing ways to help me make a life for myself and avoid financial issues.

I also do VRChat Avatar commissions, click to be taken to my Trello.

Commissions

I also do writing commissions!

$40 for 1,000 words

$70 for 2,000 words

$122 for 4,000 words

$213 for 8,000 words

$372 for 16,000 words

$651 for 32,000 words

+5% for NSFW

+10% for extreme gore

Under 1,000 words is $0.03 per word.

Other Ways to Support Me

You can also support me on:

Twitch Ko-Fi Patreon Youtube Spring Merch PayPal Or through direct tips via CashApp at cashtag $Aazoth

With that out of the way I think this blog intro is long enough, ha. So...hang out, enjoy the blog, feel free to chat with me or comment on my posts, and I hope you have a wonderful day/night/whatever it is in your part of the world! <3

Some other wonderful blogs to check out are in the tag list below!

Tag List

@theathenverse @moremysteriesthantragedies @thetruearchmagos @a-scaly-troublemaker @that-one-enby-onyx @snakelovingnerd @eldritchx @leisoree @amerylise @profoundlyhauntedclaws @thefinalgoat @leisurelywingedlemon

Userboxes by @lackauserboxes <3/p

[narhinafan]

Hey, about NaruHina, something in Boruto just seems awfully sketchy to me. I mean, let's be absolutely real to ourselves, if our wife, were to be Hinata, I would actually make extra time to SPEED UP in getting my workload done, before coming home to her, who wouldn't? Hinata is just amazing. She is the reason, why Naruto gets out of bed, along with their kids.

But in the beginning, the entire setup in Boruto, for some reason was trying to be like, "He is overworked", as if it completely forgets that Naruto can generate clones to do work for him, and he can share the workload with Shikamaru or Kakashi. And either way, why do we go this route of "neglectful parenting" again? Shouldn't Naruto know better to not bite off more than he can chew? And the fact that he and Hinata never, ever argue (sometimes, this is necessary, and I don't mean like this toxic kind of arguing, but like, discussing things, spilling their own guts to say what bothers them, that kind of jazz, sharing the grievances), at least from what I have seen so far (I haven't looked too deeply into Boruto, and I am kind of hesitant to, for many reasons), I dunno, to me, this paints Naruto in a negative light, as if he is purposely overworking himself, as a way to cope with the reality of him having initially failed as a father, husband and leader. Self-masochism, basically.

Not only that, it comes off as if Naruto's love for Hinata was only a ruse, and as the years passed by, all of it was lost in the process, as he was working towards becoming the ideal Hokage... and I find this pretty insulting, how dare they paint this couple like that? That's just dirty. ...Or am I just being weird? Because this is the impression I got so far.

Naruto is generating and using clones its why he ends up collapsing of overwork in the Boruto movie. Plus he is usually busy cause of circumstances or busy times like the Chunin exams more then anything other then those specific times he does manage make time to come home.

From what I can tell he is overworking cause it can't be helped especially since the village had a big development boom in recent years after the war and also is no longer really hidden likely increase the workload to such a degree that there methods aren't suitable for handling. Likely doesn't help that times are relatively peaceful which would hit ninjas livelihood quite hard. Its also likely even worse since Naruto is famous worldwide which would bring a lot of new business to the village on top of having to maintain peace and as the hero of the war has the most influence so people can't ignore his points. Add that the village has increased in both size and population before the village could fit in the crater Pain made, but in Boruto not only most of the buildings are now high rising ones, but they even had to expand outside the crater and build a city behind the Hokage monument. The current village is likely equal to two-three pre war villages together maybe even more.

Naruto does seem to get help from Shikamaru, but its not enough a lot of things likely need Naruto himself to take care of for lots of reasons and I bet his clones are the only reason they managed to handle the rapid growth in recent years.

Naruto's workload as Hokage is likely several time more then what previous Hokage had to deal with its not somthing he just assign away either.

I get what you mean, but I think Hinata is aware of just how much work Naruto gets especially cause of the education she got from her clan since a young age so she has some understanding of both political and management/development of the village.

I don't like it, but it is realistic in times of peace after war its normal for a development boom to happen. The leaf village benefited it from it the most, but at the cost of Naruto being worked to the bone to handle it.

[aroaceleovaldez]

Speaking of their depiction of Will's anxiety- the Stymphalian birds were specifically chosen for him, because in the myths they can only be taken down by archery. But they're saying here that Will had a traumatic experience at the hands of monsters who have historically been defeated by archers. And then he didn't dedicate himself to archery at all? For the 5+ years he's been at camp? Reverse superhero origin story where instead of vowing to fight crime as the result of a loved one's death they just never leave the house ever again

Yeah! Or music/sound (which his satyr is specifically noted to be skilled at - Woodrow teaches the music class at CHB in The Hidden Oracle), which Will also doesn't do anything with besides his sonic whistle or healing hymns (which apparently are actually just his mom's songs and not hymns) at all until that gets retconned in TSATS. Like, we know he has a sonic whistle and healing hymns, but it's kind of a specific thing that he's not as musically or archery inclined as his siblings. So why half-retcon half of that, make these birds that can specifically only be defeated by sound and archery a major part of his backstory, and then... we never get any payoff for it? He faces them again, but it doesn't go any better than it did the first time? There's no building of his character there.

Also, Stymphalian birds are actually sacred to Artemis. Yknow. Apollo's twin.

I get that TSATS was trying to cameo a lot of monsters we've seen before, but making Stymphalian birds specifically part of Will's backstory feels kind of weird and doesn't make a ton of sense? Because when we see them in SoM it's implied they were specifically sent to CHB, so why would they try to maim the random kid? Especially a son of the sibling of the goddess they're sacred to?

The only explanation I would accept is that the Stymphalian birds that attacked Will in New York were actually the ones from CHB in Sea of Monsters after they flew away, and Will just got really unlucky. But timeline-wise that actually doesn't work, cause SoM and TTC are the same year, and Nico and Will are the same age, so Will should be 10 or 11 in SoM/TTC (depending on if you accept Nico is 13 or 14 in HoO). And TSATS tells us Will arrived to CHB at age eight, which would mean he's been at CHB longer than Percy has and so the birds couldn't be the same ones from SoM. (Yes I'm still mad about the absolutely broken timeline there.) Also if they're dissuaded by noise, there's no way they're going to land in the middle of New York City of all places.

There's just other monsters they could have picked that would have made more sense. Or even mortal animals! We know from previous books that there's a thing about mortal animals sometimes having vendettas against the children of gods associated with their species for curse reasons or etc! Apollo actually has a lot of those! And it can become enough of a problem even to young demigods that it can require them to come to camp early before monsters can begin tracking them (ex.: Annabeth with spiders - monsters seemed to only become a problem after she tried coming back home the first time). Why not have it be Will being attacked consistently by normal mortal crows, because he's a son of Apollo? Or snakes - in the first book Percy even mentions fighting off two snakes when he was a baby because they were sent to kill him. I mean, Will's from Texas! We can absolutely scrounge up some snakes for him to fight. And it would fit more with acknowledging how he's from Texas specifically, just like how much the book tries to emphasize that Nico is from Venice.

It feels like one of many dropped plot points that make me say I wish TSATS had been worked on longer so that these types of things could have been ironed out and maybe turned into something consistent.

[pillarsalt]

Any advice for women questioning if they might be bi?

This is an interesting question that I'm not quite sure how to answer. I thought I might tell you what my own experience in figuring out my sexuality was like, but I might have a bit of a weird story since understanding my attraction to men was actually more difficult than my attraction to women. This is stupid long and a bit navel gazey (walking down memory lane since I'm currently staying at my mom's place in my hometown). If you want to skip to the TLDR section at the bottom, I put the advice that came to me while writing this there. I hope it helps a bit, but if not, maybe others might want to add their own advice for anon in the replies?

I grew up in a smaller Alberta city that leaned conservative, but I was lucky enough to have open-minded and accepting parents who were pro gay rights. I went to catholic school (for french immersion lol), and before I even had the awareness that same sex attracted people existed, my elementary school friend group ostracized me, they said they thought I was a lesbian because I liked dinosaurs and roughhousing too much.

I was very confused until I was about 12 and learned that women could indeed be attracted to and have relationships with other women; that's when the understanding hit that there was a reason I felt differently about certain girls than I did about my other girl friends. Why I loved to sit next to them and stare at each individual feature of their faces when they talked, why I treasured the chihuahua webkinz Cristina from the bus gave me for christmas so much (I bought her a pack of lip smacker lip balm, this is so nostalgic lol), why I often gave Julia from my soccer team a playful shove if only to touch her for just a second. Now I knew what I was feeling. The problem was, aren't girls supposed to like boys? My peers would talk about how hot this one was and how they wanted that one's number; I just didn't get it. Boys were all just kind of weird and gross and scary to me.

In the next couple years I read more about lesbian gay and bisexual history and culture, learned that it wasn't wrong for me to love women but that many people wouldn't accept that. In high school (catholic high school!), if people asked, I answered truthfully, and it didn't make me popular. This is basically the reason I absolutely hate the word Queer; I had that word spat at the back of my head in the hallways by the grease ape hockey players who joked about "drinking beers and hitting queers". I had my share of crushes but didn't dare act on them. It frankly sucked, but I still made some friends.

(Funny tangent here: I had made a couple of new friends who were kind of in the 'cool bad girls' clique but didn't know my reputation. At lunch one day they stole my phone and as a prank they texted my mom "I have something to tell you... I like women" and she answered "you already told me that??" LMAOOO my mom felt so bad but like I told her, how was she supposed to know? anyway those girls didn't hang out with me much after that.)

Later on, I tried harder to fit in at school. I wore a lot of makeup and had a boyfriend for a couple months, which only confused me further. He asked me out and he was considered desirable and he was nice and didn't make fun of me, so I said yes. I used to set an alarm on my phone when I was at his place and pretended my mom was calling me and I had to leave. That scene at the start of But I'm a Cheerleader where Megan is just sitting there letting her boyfriend make out with her while she waits for it to be over, it really resonated with me when I watched it the first time lol. When he started hinting he wanted to have sex and put my hand on his boner through his pants, I couldn't take it anymore and ended it. I began to think I just wasn't into men at all. I kind of ignored them after that.

After a tumultuous almost-relationship with another girl who got then scared into claiming she was straight again by the homophobia at school and her religious mother (and then we weren't allowed to be each other's grad partners even as platonic friends), I had my first girlfriend after I graduated high school (we're still friends although she's fully into the theythem sphere now). She moved to another province and I discovered I'm not the type of person who can handle long distance relationships, so that was the end of that.

Finally in college, where people usually have their same-sex experimentation phase, I instead discovered that I am indeed attracted to men, I guess it just took me a while to find the ones who did it for me. A coworker turned close friend turned FWB turned long-term boyfriend confirmed that for sure. It was a whirlwind of self discovery but I was glad to have finally figured out what I was questioning for so long. So at the age of 19, I became as sure as I am now that I am not gay, not straight, but bisexual. I don't know if the kinsey scale thing is bullshit or not but I'd say I sit at about a 4. Things sort of fell into place for me eventually, which I think was lucky for me and I'm grateful for it.

TLDR SECTION:

I knew I was attracted to women from my early teens on, didn't figure out if I liked men until college years.

So if you're still with me, that's why I don't exactly know what advice to give you. Honestly, I wrote all of that mostly hoping you might find something relatable in there to build off of. Basically, are you romantically attracted to women, do you want to hold her hands, kiss her deeply, spend all your time with her, be filled with joy when you hear the beautiful sound of her voice, hold her closely until you fall asleep together? and Are you sexually attracted to women, is there a longing in you when you think about touching her body, her breasts, her stomach, her lips, her thighs, her vulva, the sensation of her touching you too? If it's yes to all of the above... yeah you're probably attracted to women.

But if it's yes to only one subset or another, here's the thing: I've seen a ton of straight people online and in my personal life claim they're bi because they're able to tell which individuals of their own sex are conventionally attractive or not. I posted a while ago about my straight male coworker who said "I think the guitarist in my favourite band is hot so I guess I might be queer?" and my other coworkers who immediately jumped in like YES YOU'RE QUEER YOU'RE SO QUEER leaving me like... okay but would you kiss him? Have sex with him? Fall in love with him? Again that's not necessarily your case, just that the lines have been seriously blurred when it comes to sexuality, between this sort of "everyone can be queer" thing and also the ubiquity and oversaturation of porn. Porn warps the shit out of all your mental processes but especially arousal and romantic and sexual bonding. This is how we get those women who talk about how they would fuck women but never have a romantic relationship with her. Porn culture warps their minds into viewing other women as objects from which to derive sexual pleasure, even if their natural orientation is heterosexual.

I guess my number one advice is that if you want to try romance and intimacy with a woman, MAKE SURE you are upfront with the fact that you're questioning your sexuality. There's no shame in questioning, of course. But another user and I were just talking about the large number of curious straight women who go on dating apps and waste the time and crush the spirits of gay and bi women who are just looking for love, not looking to be a litmus test or an experiment. I'm sure there are women out there who would be happy to explore your attraction with you, but also be on the lookout for people looking to take advantage of you and ABSOLUTELY run the other way if it's a het couple looking for a third, holy fuck don't even give those crusties the time of day.

Another piece of advice for you is that no two women are the same. Being attracted to women doesn't mean you'll be attracted to EVERY woman. This is why I'm wary of the types who say "I'm attracted to all women and only some specific men" like that sounds fake as fuck. Bi and gay woman have types and preferences just like straight women do.

All you can really do is keep thinking on it, keep exploring your feelings. It could help to talk it out with other lesbian or bisexual women in your life if you're lucky enough to have them. I wish you the very best but don't stress too much over it either. There's no rush, take your time, be well.

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep : I don't know the episode numbers anymore I never wrote them down, so from here on out, I'm just going to number up from my previous post. So I guess episode 49

Fun fact I finished this post a week ago and then never pressed send. I can blame this on a lot of things, (work, illness, brain fog, etc) but at this point we just know it's the universe trying to keep me from finishing S5 of my Yugioh reblog, lmao.

So, last we left off, Sad Seto was next to die.

What makes this extra weird is that the other Seto is going to just watch this entire thing happen. He apparently didn't have enough traumatic disassociating while watching his Blue Eyes Wife die, now he will disassociate from watching himself go out in a blaze of glory, too.

Sad Seto's strategy against Zorc is not really what you'd expect out of the #2 of Egypt's court. Although...I guess before everyone biffed it, Seto was more like #5? #6?

He's above Mana I feel. Barely. Mostly because Mana probably isn't the right age to legally work, even in ancient Egypt when the working age is like...if you can walk.

But he was apparently so busy doing Aknadin's taxes that he's decided it's good judgement to throw himself at a 800 ft tall dragon/crotch/man.

for his credit, Sun Tzu's art of war hasn't been written yet.

And Sad Seto realizes his true purpose, which is that he has a smarter, stronger, and more powerful girlfriend (ish.) Which is a running theme on this show, as we all know.

In a bizarre cut that I can't believe they left on US TV...other than I think they couldn't cut this any other way, the penis dragon attached to Zork extended it's neck up to grab Blue eyes by her neck and just fling her into the ground, killing her instantly.

I don't like that the neck can extend longer. I don't like that it's a function of the dragon crotch. They knew. They knew what this looked like. Thanks, I hate it.

Also what an embarrassing way for Seto's past self to die. Truly the hieroglyphs about this event will be wild, and thousands of years later, Grandma Muto probably looked at this event etched into stone and just thought it was weird ancient pervert stuff.

Sorry if you were thinking Sad Seto would recover last minute and realize he's like the most OP person in Yugioh. He instead rotted from his hand and joined the rest of our Egyptian cast in Shadow Hell.

Leaving us with just Mana. And like kudos to her, but how on EARTH did she survive so freakin long!? Like of all of them, I thought Seto would be the last one. Not Mana. Not in a million years did I think it'd be the girl who hid in a pot.

But youknow maybe that's why she survived?

And then Bakura casually walked away from the only Seto who matters. Which is fitting, because if memory serves, that's also what Yami did to Seto for like half of the Battle City tourney.

It's such a weird strange bod on this dragon. It's such a strange bod. He's both got kind of a belly, but also is ripped to shreds. Such a weird bod.

In case you were like "We haven't given Seto enough motivation," we also toss in a few nearly dead brothers just to make sure we have properly traumatized this boy to the point where he'd duel someone who isn't Yugi Muto.

Seto decided magic exists 6 minutes ago, and he's already better at magic than Yugi Muto who's had access to it for YEARS.

Like he learned about magic in a different culture, a different time, a different language, and now he's fighting the final boss.

But it's Seto, so I buy it. He would speedrun his life like this.

That's the dialogue of the show where he says his first words were "neutron blast attack" and youknow...he probably has very few memories of himself as a child since his parents died and his other family put him up for adoption...but he knows his first words?

That, or Seto likes making his brand a reality by making up whatever nonsense it takes to make that brand legit. Which I can also see him doing.

Also please don't look at this foreshortened hand, don't look at it, ignore that this happened.

So thanks to Bakura's weird choice to drag Seto into this universe in the first place, now Bakura has to fight Seto and his 3 blue eyes that would not have existed here otherwise.

++++++ME RANTING ABOUT THE SETO ARC FEEL FREE TO SKIP++++

TBH it kinda makes the whole Sad Seto arc feel kind of like it didn't need to exist. Like this is the Seto fight that matters. This one right here, and although they share a name, it's not with the same guy who fought Zorc at the beginning of this episode.

And like I could add it to a list of problems with this season. But Sad Seto started out so interesting, and then forgot. It was like he only existed to introduce the dragon, and not explain anything at all about the nature of Seto Kaiba we know and love. Like the possession of Aknadin can be a parallel to how Seto was raised following Gozaburo's footsteps, but youknow...that's all old territory.

Like, I wish I had any sort of new growth from the interaction of either of the Seto's together in the same room, much like we've been getting from Yami facing his past self. Yami's been growing a lot, he's been facing his demons, but Seto? Seto's been walking around this desert trying find wifi.

(which like he did find a "wifey" which is almost wifi but wasn't as helpful because she was dead)

The Seto Kaiba who is fighting Bakura right now, is the same exact guy we saw at the end of the last arc against Zeigfried Von Schroeder.

Which means the reason that Seto is now souped up and capable of going up against Bakura isn't because of anything we witnessed here in this arc, but because of the weird horse guy last arc who taught him how to put up a better firewall.

And maybe there was a draft where Seto decides he is a spiritual reincarnation of the Pharaoh of Egypt. Maybe there was a draft where he gained a new ability. Maybe there was a draft where he realized the gravity of what was happening and wanted to save the world.

But it ain't this draft, unfortunately.

Seto is here not because of an internal growth reason, but because he was on a tablet in S2, and we have to know where that plot thread went to have an ending...but the show rewrote what it initially said in S2.

Like in the OG timeline, it was Seto who killed Pharaoh. But here we found out it was actually Aknadin who possessed Seto to kill Pharaoh. (and at some point in that fight, Pharaoh stuck his soul in a box and sealed away Zorc)

Sad Seto was apparently a chill bro the entire time. Just a nice guy who arrested half of Cairo and had a sort-of-girlfriend for about 8 hours before she biffed it.

And I would have been OK with that, if it were more interesting than what we initially thought happened in the past: where we thought it was a kickass Seto launching a coup. But unfortunately, it's not, instead it's a boy who started out powerless, and continued to be powerless despite working in Pharaoh's literal court. He didn't even have the power to not get possessed.

And I am sure there were other drafts, and endings are hard, and the author did get hella hospitalized while he wrote this season, animation is a miracle of many moving parts and budgets, and we were lucky to even get an ending to this show. So I don't want to sound like I'm complaining when there are so many worse directions this show could have gone. I'm just a little surprised it went this direction, mostly.

But say what you will about Yugioh, it doesn't like to be predictable, doesn't it?

+++++++++++++++++++OK I'M DONE++++++++++++++++++++++

Speaking of characters who haven't gained anything from being here, Tristan is no longer possessed!

Tristan begs his apologies and Yugi takes it gracefully. Which means, it's time for the main character of this entire show to finally re-enter the plot.

And they do so, in style.

Y'all I remember being excited about the look and style of extreme sports, but I do not remember this many heelies in the 00's.

Anyway, this is the link to read these in chrono order, you know the drill. See you next time to see yet another girlfriend biff it!

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono