#dr strange fixes it eventually don’t worry about it

[wazzappp]

Cringetober day 6: Neko

You know I had to do it to em

[kikyoupdates]

Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑

bnha x op!reader

op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader

You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.

prologue | story masterlist | next

I don’t know where I’m going.  

You’ve been walking for a while now, with no real destination in mind. Truthfully, you’re not searching for anyplace in particular. You just figure that anywhere will be better than being stuck with that crazy old man.  

So, you walk. The building you’ve just come out of is rather secluded, tucked away behind a canopy of trees. There’s no one else as far as the eye can see, so you make the journey in total silence, instead focusing on the sweet-tasting air, and the little birds that flit from branch to branch.  

The minutes trickle on, turning to hours, and you find yourself weighed down by a heavy feeling that must be fatigue.  

But it’s okay. Because it seems like you’ve just reached the city.  

Here, you are no longer alone. It’s crowded and busy, and there are tons of people roaming about. You can’t help but blink in awe. Up until now, the only person you’ve met was Dr. Garaki. You never imagined that there would be so many others besides him.  

Curious, you take a step forward. 

Only to be immediately pulled back.  

“Be careful!” a woman cries out, and something speeds past you at that very moment, just narrowly missing your body. You frown and look back at the woman in confusion. For some reason, she’s gasping for breath and her shoulders are trembling. “You almost walked right in front of that car,” she says shakily. “Seriously, you need to look both ways before crossing. The pedestrian light wasn’t even on.”  

You’re not really sure what she’s talking about, but you nod nonetheless. 

“Okay,” you reply. “Thank you.”  

She lets go of your arm, then looks you over for quite a long time. Something about your appearance must not sit right with her, because her brow is now furrowed.  

“Is everything okay—”  

“Hey, what’s the hold up?” someone else interjects. It’s a man, and he loops his arm around the woman’s. “Come on, I’m in a hurry here. I need to get back to work soon.”  

“Oh. This girl was about to wander out into the street, so I got worried about her,” she explains.  

“Yeah? Well, she’s fine now, so let’s go. Like I said, I don’t have time for this.”  

The woman is jerked along without another word, but you can see her glancing back over her shoulder every few moments, a look of concern plastered across her face.  

Eventually, she disappears through the crowd, so you shrug and carry on walking.  

A lot of people seem to be giving you funny looks. You don’t notice them at first, but eventually, you realize that you’re drawing a lot of attention to yourself. You’re not really sure why, though.  

More importantly, so much of this is new to you. Not only are there tons of people, but there are countless buildings, in all colors and sizes, as well as other strange things you’ve never seen before. The world outside appears to be vibrant and bright, already a massive improvement to the dingy lab you awoke in.  

You keep walking. Some people look like they want to call out to you, or at the very least, they’re thinking about it, but ultimately, they reconsider and let you carry on your way.  

Everyone disregards the fact that you’re a child all on your own and assumes that someone else will come to your rescue eventually. That’s the reasoning they use to spare themselves the hassle and wipe their hands of any responsibility.  

And then, someone does come to your rescue.  

“Hello there, little girl. Are you by yourself?”  

It’s a tall man with a warm, inviting smile. He fixes you in a tender gaze, and unlike everyone else, he takes the time to find out how you’re doing.  

You nod in agreement. “Yes. I’m alone.”  

For some reason, the man’s smile grows even wider. Unfortunately, you’re too naïve to realize why.  

“Well, that just won’t do,” he hums. “It’s not safe for a kid like you to be all alone on the streets. How about I help you out? I can get you something to eat too. You sound like you’re hungry.”  

Hungry? You’re not too familiar with the term, but perhaps he’s referring to how your stomach is grumbling without pause. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, one that you’d been trying to disregard up until now. But if this man says he can help with that, you’ll gladly take him up on his offer.  

“I think I am hungry,” you concede. “I want to try eating something.”  

“Of course,” he grins. “Just follow me.”  

So, you do. It doesn’t occur to you that perhaps you shouldn’t trust people so blindly, especially given the experience you’ve already had with Dr. Garaki. But as you will soon discover, the outside world is plenty dangerous too, and your total ignorance makes you all the more vulnerable to it.  

The man reaches over to grab your hand in his, and he seems tickled pink by the fact that you don’t try to refuse.  

For a while, the two of you walk like that, hand-in-hand. You keep looking around the whole time, trying to make sense of your surroundings, and eventually, you see something that makes your eyes widen.  

“There,” you say, pointing towards a building. You can see through its glass windows, and the people inside are all sitting at tables and shoveling various things into their mouth. They’re... eating, right? They must be. Your brain instinctively makes the connection, and right on cue, your stomach starts grumbling even more.  

“What is it?” the man frowns.  

“They’re eating food,” you say. “In there. Can we go in to eat too? I’m hungry.”  

“Ah. I actually don’t have a lot of money on hand,” he sighs. “But I’ve got a nice meal waiting for us back home. I can get you more comfortable clothes to change into as well. Don’t worry. It’ll be way better than sitting in a cramped diner.”  

You tilt your head to the side, confused. “But they’re all eating, and I want to eat too. I don’t feel like waiting any longer. I want to go there.”  

“Like I said, I don’t have money,” he explains.  

“Money?”  

Yet another term you’ve never heard before. There’s a lot that you don’t understand, that you still need to learn. Of course, the man can’t possibly know that, so he must assume you’re just playing dumb. 

“Everyone else is eating, so why can’t we do it too?” you ask.  

He clicks his tongue, and his smile drops for the very first time. “Don’t be difficult,” he grimaces. You notice that his grip on your hand has become tighter. “I promise I’ll give you some food at home, so please just listen to me, okay?”  

Despite his insistence, you stubbornly root your feet into the ground. There’s food right on the other side of that window, and you’re not going anywhere until you’ve tried some for yourself.  

“I want to go in there,” you say again. “I’m not leaving.”  

It seems like that’s really not what the man wanted to hear, because all of a sudden, anger flashes through his eyes, and he pulls you forcefully, making you stumble forward in bewilderment.  

Then, he throws you over his shoulder.  

“I played nice and gave you a chance,” he glares. “All you had to do was not act out like a little brat.”  

He’s running now, still gripping you tight and refusing to let go. All you can do is gape, watching as the diner fades further and further into the distance. You lament the loss of your food, which now appears to be hopelessly out of reach. The hunger is getting worse by the second, too. It feels like your stomach is about to implode.  

You know what you have to do. You need to fight this guy off and break free of him. But much to your dismay, you can’t muster up the strength, no matter how hard you try. That feeling from before, when you channeled all that energy... it’s gone. And you’re not quite sure how to bring it back.  

“I want food,” you groan, feeling weaker by the second. The man pays you no mind, of course. He keeps running as fast as his feet will carry him. You wonder where he’s taking you. Wherever it is, you doubt it’s anywhere good. It seems like Dr. Garaki isn’t the only crazy bastard in this world.  

So, you escaped. Only to be captured by yet another maniac. 

And to think that this is only your first day of living.  

“It’s going to be okay,” the man reassures, laughing in a shaky, deranged manner. “You’ll see. The two of us... we’ll be happy together. I’ll take care of you and give you everything you want.”  

“...is that so? And here I was, thinking that you’d kidnapped the poor girl.”  

Another man’s voice. It’s deep, but soft, and it catches you completely by surprise, since you were convinced that no one else was anywhere near you.  

The man who kidnapped you cries out, but it’s too late. Something tough and sturdy wraps around his body and immobilizes him, and in the next moment, your feet are resting comfortably on the ground, right where they ought to be.  

You look up at your savior, who has pale skin, long disheveled black hair, and a lethargic yet stern expression.  

His name is Aizawa Shouta, and he will change the course of your life forever.  

“I’ll never understand what goes through the minds of sickos like you,” Aizawa mutters. 

“I-I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” the other man frantically protests. He’s bound by some weird kind of cloth, and it’s safe to say that he isn’t going anywhere. “We were just enjoying a nice day out, and she was getting a bit rowdy, that’s all. I was bringing her home so that she could calm down! Isn’t that right?” 

He looks over at you expectantly, perhaps hoping that you’ll help him get out of this sticky situation. 

But just because you’re more ignorant than the average person doesn’t mean you’re stupid.  

It's obvious that he’s a bad guy, just like Dr. Garaki.  

“I only met you a few minutes ago,” you say. “And you promised me food but got angry when I wanted to go inside one of the buildings. You grabbed me and forced me to go with you, even though I didn’t want to.”  

Aizawa narrows his eyes, and the man chuckles nervously in response. “Sh-She’s always such a joker. Come on, don’t be that way. You’re going to get your old man in trouble.”  

“Nice try,” Aizawa comments insincerely. “But I’m afraid there’s only one place for creeps like you.”  

The man wails out in protest yet again, but all his pleas fall on deaf ears. It looks like he’s in a lot of trouble. You’re not sure where he’s being sent to, but it probably isn’t someplace nice.  

Aizawa grips onto the cloths tightly, but finally spares you a proper glance. “More importantly, are you okay, kid? That must’ve given you a fright. Everything’s fine now. You’re safe.”  

You frown. Can you really trust him? It’s only been a few hours since you’ve awoken, but so far, your experience with people has been disappointing to say the least. You’re starting to realize that you have to be more on guard. There’s no telling what someone will do next.  

“Who are you?” you ask. “What if you try to hurt me, too?”  

Aizawa smiles sympathetically. “Yes, I understand why you might feel that way. But I promise I’m different from this dirtbag. I’m a hero. Protecting people is what I do. That much, I can promise you.”  

A hero. For some reason, the word evokes a strong feeling.  

Kill heroes. Kill heroes. Kill heroes.  

You wince. That voice in the back of your head is acting up again, making you feel all jumbled up and icky inside. It’s the same voice that was commanding you to obey Dr. Garaki. The voice that you instinctively know you can’t trust.  

But much like before, you manage to fight against it. You shove it to the back of your mind and disregard what it has to say.  

The man in front of you says he’s a hero, and apparently, heroes are supposed to help people. It’s possible that he’s lying. It’s possible that you’re being set up for disappointment again.  

But you decide to give him a chance. 

“I’m Aizawa,” he introduces.  

“I’m [Name],” you say. Even if Dr. Garaki was the one to give you this name, it’s yours now, and you are determined to cherish it. 

Aizawa nods, offers you a small smile, then reaches out to you.  

You take his hand. 

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[copingbrainrot]

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝘽𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙡

Chapter 1: Hello Richmond

Summary: Embarking on a new job as a Richmond PT, you’ve experienced an interesting reunion with an old friend, as well as welcoming new faces and new beginnings.

Canon Rewrite starting from s2. Eventual Ted Lasso x Reader, but we will be focusing on friendships for now :))

Warnings: Swearing, no y/n usage

Word count: 2k

***

Funny how the universe works sometimes, coincidences that accumulate, points of entwining fates in the web of life. It’s a fascinating and scary notion to experience. Case in point, Doctor Sharon Fieldstone is standing beside you in the Office of the Richmond Head Coach for introductions. Who would’ve thought that the job you accepted at London would reunite you with your ex-therapist after years? 

She has not changed since the last time you saw her. 

“I just wanted to introduce you to Dr. Sharon Fieldstone. She’s going to be looking after Dani. And here’s Ms. Reader. She’s the new PT, replacing Dr. Salsbury after that incident.” Wincing, Leslie Higgins introduced you to the group. Despite the curiosity, you don’t dare ask what exactly happened. 

“This is Nathan, Coach Beard, and Ted Lasso.”

You looked around the group of men, familiarizing their faces. Notably, you observed Nathan's bashful wave, Coach Beard's pensive and analytical gaze, and the amiable expression on the mustachioed face of Ted Lasso, the head coach whose demeanor exuded warmth and friendliness. You see him stand.

“Oh, you don’t need to stand,” Fieldstone protests.

“But it makes it a lot easier to do this.” 

The head coach of Richmond is twirling in circles, singing a spontaneous song as a unique way of welcoming you. The other two men enthusiastically join their boss with improvised vocals and thumps, in a display, which is, honestly, quite impressive.

“Consider this song our way to greet you. Hey!” The three shouted.

A beat passed. 

“So I understand that Dani has developed a case of the yips?” You laugh internally as Dr. Sharon just ignored their antics.

“Hey!” The three physically winced loudly.

“Okay, that’s two weird things in a row. What’s going on?” 

Failing to suppress your laugh, you covered your mouth, prompting all of them to direct their attention toward you.

"Apologies, had a little something in my throat," you interjected, feigning a cough for added effect. "Please, go on," you continued, waving your hand in a gesture to encourage them to resume.

“Well, Doc, we don’t like using that word around here,” Coach Lasso says.

“Why?” 

Hesitancy is seen in the head coach as he glanced around at his co-workers to try, silently urging one of them to take charge of the conversation.

“Uhm… How do I? Why y’all looking at me? He’s the one who knows everyth—” pointing at Coach Beard, “Oh okay, all right. Well, Doc–”

“Doctor.” Doctor Sharon interjected. 

"Right, yes, of course. Sorry. Doctor, it’s a superstition?" he concluded the sentence with a hint of uncertainty.

The therapist nodded in understanding, as if to say here we go again. “I see. Well, the yips…”

You find it amusing to witness grown men react so strongly to the word "yips," and can't help but laugh internally that you've seen it happen three times in the last five minutes.

“... are not a superstition. They are a mental condition, one that can be fixed with discipline, not denial.” 

“So, then, you’re pretty confident that you can help us out with Dani?”

What a strange thing to ask, Coach Lasso. Is he doubting her capabilities as a therapist? It's akin to asking, "How can you be certain that you’ll be making a difference?"

“Are you good at your job?” It seemed Doctor Sharon also had the same interpretation. The tension in the room was palpable. The tension in the room became palpable as the coach glanced around, uncertain if the question was a bait to demonstrate his competence or an expression of arrogance.

“Don’t worry about them. Put all bullshit humility aside and be honest with me. Are you good at your job? Yes or no?” The sharp-tongued Doctor Sharon strikes again. She had always been efficient, swift to discern the underlying causes of people's issues. It’s fascinating to see. You’ve missed your old friend… while it may be unprofessional to view her as a close confidante given your previous client relationship, she played a significant role in your mental journey, especially in years past. You always regretted not keeping in contact with her after she left. And, now that you have the chance, you yearn to be more than just her former client and co-worker – you want to be her friend.

Coach Lasso finally replied, “Yes.”

“I believe you. Well, as good as you are at your job, I’m twice as good at mine.” All are shocked at her words and you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling under your breath at their faces. 

A beat passed.

In unison, the men chimed in with expressions of gratitude, "We're very lucky to have you," "Thank you very much," "That's good to know," and "Thank you for coming here" were all spoken in a synchronized display of thanks. 

“Right, so where should I be conducting my sessions?” 

You finally cracked and laughed aloud. All eyes on you. It was the first time you’ve met eyes with Doc Sharon, looking at you strangely. “I– I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help it. That was rude of me. But seeing as we are all now acquainted with each other, I will have to step out to go begin talking with the players, if you all don’t mind.”

“Oh sure. Yes, yes. Nice meeting you, Doc Reader.” Coach Lasso was first to react.

Waving, you remembered leaving the office with a tiny smile thinking, “They seem fun.”

***

Having just completed interviews with the first half of the team for your preliminary checks, you decided to grab some lunch. On your way to the dining facility, you spotted Doc Sharon walking.

"Hey Doc, you still don’t take shit from anybody. Just as fun as I remember," you said with a grin, attempting to engage in conversation with your former co-worker. Your intention was to glean some comments on the morning’s events. Seems like a safe topic to start with.

"Please refrain from addressing me so casually in the workplace. It's unprofessional," her tone was cold. You were taken aback by her sentence. 

"I’m sorry, Doc Sharon, I—" you started, only to be abruptly interrupted.

"It's Doctor."

"Doctor Sharon, I was just thinking that because we’ve shared the same workplace for a few years, I assumed we'd built a rapport. Why the sudden hostility?" you asked, attempting to understand the shift in her demeanor. 

"I prefer maintaining a clear boundary between my professional and personal life." 

That does not explain the hostility. But you tried to give it one more chance. 

Tone soft, you attempted to invite her to chat, "Alright. I just thought we could catch up a bit after work." 

"There’s no need for that, Reader. Although, I appreciate your offer. If you'd excuse me, I have some work to attend to," she curtly responded, signaling the end of the conversation.

What the actual fuck was that?

***

After completing the update for the player database, filled with your comments suggesting potential modifications to their training regime, your initial plan was to head home. You’ve decided to put your conversation with Doctor Sharon on the back burner, for now. The first priority is the job. 

Mr. Higgins had introduced you to the entire medical team before extending introductions to the higher-ups and coaches. Everyone was welcoming, and it was remarkable how quickly you had grown comfortable in the space within a day—comfortable enough to confidently ask questions about their systems and set-up shop in one of the offices. 

Your thoughts drifted back to a conversation with the players earlier, prompting you to take a detour. You rapped on the door, finding Coach Lasso alone in his office.

“Hey Coach, Sam told me you were rear-ended by a football this week. Mind popping back to the treatment room real quick so I can take a look?”

“Oh, no need for that, Doc. I wouldn’t want to make a fuss.” You scowled internally with his reaction.  

You dislike it when people deny care when injured. They do have their reasons, but in your years of service, it’s better to have injuries checked out especially as athletes, no matter how minor. People are entitled to healthcare and to deny it leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You were hired exactly for this reason, for god’s sake. 

"Well, I believe it wouldn't set a great example for the players if their own head coach refuses medical care when injured, wouldn't you agree?"

Stilling, he looked at you like a deer in headlights. You have half a mind to stop yourself from chuckling. After a brief pause, he slowly nodded and admitted, "You got me there, Doc. My bad. Yeah, okay. I'm free now if that works for you?"

At the treatment room, he was lying face down on one of the beds while you took a look at his lower back and saw nasty bruising, prodding softly to gauge how much pain it registers on the coach. 

"So, how's the new gig treating you?" Coach inquired, seemingly steering the conversation to cut through the lingering awkwardness. You can handle conversation. 

“I think it’s going well. I had a chance to meet with the boys earlier– how’s the pain here? – conducted their preliminary checks, and had the chance to talk to them. They’re all quite polite.” You reply, moving to a different region on his sizable bruise. Coach Lasso let out a tiny sigh.

“"Hmm... still tender there– That’s good to hear. Some days, them lot are wilder than cattle escaped but they’re good kids. If you need any help rounding them up, you can count on me.”

Chucking, you replied, “I'll definitely take you up on that offer sometime, Coach. I’m looking forward to working with all of them — You can sit up now if it’s not too painful — Doctor Sharon should be able to assist with that too. I heard what happened to Dani and the dog, Earl? It’s a tragic thing to happen.”

After a brief pause, you rummaged through the storage to get an ice pack.

“Yes, we’ll do anything to bring Dani back to his chipper self.," he responded, his voice carrying a hint of strain and uncertainty. Curious of his reactions and his question from earlier, you decided to probe further.

“Do you think she can’t do it?” Coach Lasso's response was quick to deny it, exclaiming a series of "nos" with growing intensity. "No, no, no. Nothing like that. I just—I just wish I knew how to help Dani as well."

Despite Doctor Sharon’s demeanor in your interaction, you've never harbored any doubt on her abilities. She is an incredible therapist, one who truly cares for her patients and genuinely invested in their well-being. And you know it better than anyone, as you've sat on the other side of the table as one of her patients.

"Well, if there's anyone who can handle it, it's her. Healing is not linear nor does it rely on one person. I think it always takes a collective effort. It's sort of a trio deal—soul, body, and mind, I suppose. You take care of the soul, I handle the body, and Doctor Sharon tends to the mind." Handing the ice pack to the coach, you continue, "Here you go... I'd recommend applying an ice pack for the next 24 hours. No more than 15 minutes at a time, and repeat throughout the day. Once the swelling subsides, we can transition to warm compress. If the pain becomes unbearable, let me know, and I'll provide you with some painkillers."

The head coach fixed his gaze on you for a moment. “I appreciate your words, doc. Thanks for that. And thank you, too, for the check up. I’ll be pretty as a peach come tomorrow. And hey, If you even need some help, for anything at all, just holler down the hall.” 

Chuckling, you nodded. “Alright then, Coach. Thanks for your time. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

____________________________________________

Hi everyone!

This fic is follows the POV of Reader (who is honestly more of an OC without the name). This fic is cross-posted to AO3 with the same title.

Anyways, some notes to consider:

1. Reader is closer to an OC without a name. She has a past and personality. Probably asking why not just give her a name? I could not commit to it; thus, Reader will be used. No y/n usage.

2. Reader is upwards of 30 :))

3. Author is not a football fan nor a PT. All of it came from internet research. Feel free to comment if I got something *horrendously* bad.

4. The idea just came because I really wanted to befriend Dr. Sharon.

With that being said, let's have fun!

[risusnet]

Something there that wasn’t there before.

Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: [Y/N] is a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. Bruce Wayne is holding a charity gala to help raise some funds for the asylum and [Y/N] along with some colleagues are invited. Her friend and crush Jonathan Crane was one of her co-workers that was invited too and they both enjoy the evening together.

Prompt: “Be still my heart.” Word Count: 2,626

You worked as a psychiatrist in Arkham Asylum and you, along with some of your other co-workers, had been invited to a charity gala hosted by Bruce Wayne which intended to help raise money for the Asylum. You were wearing a beautiful dress that you had picked out a few days earlier and had just parked up in your car outside the gala hall, you sighed feeling nervous to go in. There were going to be so many people there, one of which was Dr. Jonathan Crane, your friend and co-worker who you had been low-key crushing on for the past few years, your heart jumped into your mouth just thinking about him being there.

“I bet he’s wearing something really nice- wait no- he’s just your friend, shut up!” you thought aloud.

You pulled yourself together and got out of your car, shyly walking to the door and trying to distract yourself from the photographers and reporters at the entrance who were also here about the gala. 

“Name, please.” said a frightening-looking bouncer,

“Dr. [Y/N] [L/N].” You told him,

“Ah, I see your name, you may enter.”

“Thanks..” you quickly entered the hall.

It was a beautiful venue, priceless golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling of the corridor with marble lining the floor that led to a foyer. For a corridor it was massive, it felt intimidating. You cautiously wandered onward, the corridor was fairly empty with only a few people littered here and there, some people on the phone, some couples making out and drunk people stumbling around aimlessly. You reached the entrance of the hall and looked around, there were so many rich and famous people here, it was easy to feel like you didn’t belong here. You saw some of your co-workers spanning the hall, there were some of them together in groups, sticking together but then you saw someone in the crowd that was not with the rest of your colleagues. It was Jonathan. It felt like time stopped when you saw him, he was wearing a really lovely suit and you felt your pulse quicken, you took a step backwards and bashfully looked at the ground,

“Be still my heart.” You muttered to yourself.

You braced yourself and walked on into the foyer, you decided to get something to drink to set your head straight. After sipping your drink, you looked up only to lock eyes with none other than Jonathan on the other side of the room. He smiled at you and smiled back, if you had still had the water in your mouth you probably would have spat it out in surprise. Luckily, you were able to hide your surprise pretty well. 

The moment was cut short when a man who seemingly worked for Bruce Wayne came onto the stage and told everyone that the ballroom was now open and people began to make their way in the direction of the ballroom. You put your drink down and followed the crowd, you could see Jonathan up ahead in the corner of your eye and you tried to ignore him for your own good, however, you were doing a terrible job at that.

Once you entered the ballroom, you were mesmerised by how enchanting it truly was in here. You took in every last corner of it and smiled in awe. Your eyes travelled back down again and you suddenly felt a little shy again, remembering Jonathan was here. You really had to get a hold of yourself and forget your feelings whilst you were here, you had to act professional!

A soft song was being played by the orchestra they had hired and many people had already coupled off and started dancing and talking in the ballroom, you found a place off to the side to stand and took in the environment. Jonathan walked over to you and stood next to you,

“[L/N], Hello.” He nodded in your direction,

“Crane, good to see you.” You responded.

“It’s rather, chaotic, in here, isn’t it?” He smiled,

“Yeah, it’s a bit overwhelming,” you laughed a little.

You looked in his direction slightly, he was still just as handsome as before, shit. You ended up catching Jonathan's gaze on accident, to which caused him to speak,

“Would you like to dance for a little?” He said, his tone slightly softer than previously. You paused, you wanted to, but felt shy, how typical.

“Are you sure?” you crossed your arms and looked at him,

“It might be fun, plus, we may as well get in a few of the photos from the event.” He joked,

“Alright, sure, let’s go.” You both walked into the main area of the room where people were dancing. Your mind felt like it was literally screaming at you, you weren’t sure if it was in an ‘Oh my god, this is so exciting’ way or a ‘No no no no no, abort abort, abort mission’ way. Anyway, you still seemed pretty composed and he took your hand, either way. You started to lazily dance along with everyone else, you felt completely in your element and yet completely out of it at the same time, a very strange feeling, maybe it was just the nervousness.

Funnily, photographs were taken of you both, you spied it just out of the corner of your eye and you’re pretty sure he noticed too. Dancing with Jonathan and now you have proof of it? There’s some bragging rights! 

“Wait- what if people get the wrong idea? I’m gonna be hassled by questions and rumours going back into work.” You thought in your head. 

“What if those ideas are good ideas?” a voice replied. Voices aren’t meant to reply to you in our head so that means that…

“Huh- Did I say that out loud-” you felt a little embarrassed, then you remembered what he responded with, “..Hey, wait a minute-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He cut you off with a grin. Is he going to ignore what he said? Great, now you are going to worry about it, or more specifically, you are not going to stop thinking about this. Maybe, ever.

“If you say so.” Your eyes held a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity, whilst he looked slightly smug. There was a vague air of flirtatiousness between the two of you as you continued dancing, you both spoke to each other in a manner that wasn’t flirting, but borderline was. However, it was usually like this when you spoke, you just had that kind of dynamic. You can’t blame yourself for catching feelings in an atmosphere like that, right?

You felt a lot more comfortable than earlier, you had probably just gotten used to his presence. He was always good company and the rest of the bustling gala just seemed to phase out. There had come a point in which you and Jonathan had stopped speaking altogether and just had your eyes fixed on each other. You guys were also having a… moment? You were edging closer and closer to one another absentmindedly and a layer of tension filled the air. 

“Guests! Thank you for coming to this lovely gala we have been hosting today!” Oh yeah, that’s where you were. You and Jonathan stopped dancing and turned to face the voice and saw Bruce Wayne now on the stage introducing the event. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “You all probably already know why this gala is being thrown today, we are here to support our very own Arkham Asylum and its employees who work tirelessly to try to reform the criminals it holds. The dining hall is now ready for everyone so if you follow the butlers they will direct you to your seating! Thank you.” Bruce gave a winning smile and moved away from the microphone and off of the stage.

You looked to Jonathan who nodded in the direction of the hall and you both started to make your way over.

The room was beautiful, with hundreds of tables brimming the hall. You stuck to Jonathan like glue, because despite all of the friendly-seeming faces, it was still pretty nerve-racking and he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to enjoy being your protector.

You were eventually seated, with Jonathan being in the seat next to you on your right. You were glad for that, at least. Apart from him, you were surrounded by a load of unfamiliar faces that lined your table, not that that was surprising, you couldn’t recognise 90% of the people attending this. 

There was a lot of, ‘How do you do’s and ‘What is your name’ and ‘Where do you work’ as everyone around you settled in. They asked you and Jonathan many questions about your jobs upon learning that you both worked at the asylum.

“So, Dr. Crane, what’s it like working with a bunch of criminals? Isn’t it dangerous?” one woman who appeared to be quite rich asked. She wore an expensive dress and a face full of extravagant makeup.

“Ah, well, we don’t just have them running rampant with a knife or such whilst we are in appointments with them.” His comment earned some laughter from the table. He was good at this, you smiled to yourself knowing you were in good hands and that you could relax a little because Jonathan knew what he was doing.

A different man, one who sat on your left side began to strike up a conversation with you.

“Dr. [L/N], a pleasure to finally talk to you. I have been meaning to ever since I saw you arrive!” This comment earned a suspicious side-eye from Jonathan but he quickly looked away and continued the conversation he was in.

“Oh, well it’s an honour to meet you, sir.” you politely responded and extended your arm to shake his hand, which he took, shook and lingered for a bit too long before releasing it.

“You must be very intelligent to be a psychiatrist. Where did you study?” He leaned over remotely closer, awaiting your reply.

“Gotham University for the most part! I enjoyed my time there, actually.” You tried to be oblivious to how he was acting, but it was super off-putting.

“Ah, a good one. I have known friends who have attended there!” His breath stinks of booze. He was closer still and you were starting to feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you, I’m sorry, but could you excuse me. I think I need to use the restroom.” He nodded his head and you stood up. Jonathan had an idea of what was going on and waited two minutes before leaving too.

You walked as fast as you could to get yourself some air. You were back in the foyer and nearly at the bathroom when a hand grabbed your wrist.

“[Y/N]!” You turned around and your eyes were met with Jonathan. “Are you alright?”

“I’m... I’m sorry. Everything was just really… hectic. I needed some air…” You weren’t quite sure what to say.

“Was it that man? Did he make you feel uneasy, or something?” His eyes looked full of care and concern. He really knew you well.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for dragging you out here, you can go, you don’t have to worry.” You tried to brush it off but he could tell how it got to you. He moved his hand, which was still holding your wrist, to hold your hand.

“I’m not just going to leave you here when you’re like this. I’m someone who cares for you.” He sounded truly earnest, it made your heartbeat speed up when he said that. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Trust me. If it will make you feel better, we can switch seats. If he tries anything, even if he looks at you in a strange way, I’ll see to it myself.”

“Jonathan… Thanks.” You smiled to which he returned it.

“Shall we?” His facial expression shifted to a smirk.

“We shall.”

You both made your way back to the table, sitting in each other’s seats. You realised you were still holding hands and had to unfortunately let go to sit down. You settled back down and the man from earlier began to speak.

“I think you two are sitting in the wrong seats.” He was so clearly annoyed but tried not to show his frustration by placing an obvious artificial smile on his lips.

“Hm, it seems that we are,” Jonathan said, turning to you. “Ah well, no point in getting up again.” He shrugged and was pulled into another conversation with someone on the table.

At some point, you had ended up placing your head on his shoulder to lean against which he let you do. It was comfy and by the time you realised you had done so, it had been about 5 minutes and he was fine with it so you decided to bask in the moment.

Bruce Wayne, that mysterious rich guy, was once again back on the stage. 

“Hello everyone,” he had a drink and a tiny spoon in his hand which he clinked to the glass to command everyone’s attention. “Now, I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear, is the best part, where I give you all a load of free food! Feel free to indulge yourselves as the butlers bring the food and beverages around to the tables.��� Then he confidently strode off the stage and back to his seat. His table was less full of businessmen in suits and more full of beautiful women in expensive dresses.

Everyone turned back to their conversations as trays and plates came out of the ginormous kitchen hiding somewhere in the back. There were all sorts of food that you had yet to try in your life but you were eager to. You had to sit up though so that meant lifting your head off of Jonathan’s shoulder.

You, along with the rest of the guests began to eat the food served. Whilst also maintaining some light conversation. By this time, you had quite the collection of business cards handed to you by various people at this table. 

Bruce stood up to toast to the event, “Here is a toast, to this pleasant gala and to those we are holding it for. A toast to all of the incredible employees of Arkham Asylum who are and aren’t here today!” He raised his glass which everyone else followed suit with.

Half an hour later and everyone was finishing up their meals and you too felt very full and idly set your head back onto Jonathan’s shoulder. You looked up at him from there and he looked back, laughing a little before looking away again.

The gala was starting to wrap up and people were starting to leave. Bruce went onto the stage to say his official goodbye causing a massive flock of people to also call it a night for them there.

“We should probably give it a minute before leaving, save getting trampled.” Jonathan looked to you, who was still leisurely resting on his shoulder.

“You’re right.” You said watching people leave, “This was surprisingly fun.” 

“I agree, I didn’t expect to have this nice of a time. Maybe it’s just thanks to you though.” Jonathan now rested his head atop yours. 

“I’m glad you were here too.” You sighed happily.

“We should see each other outside of work more.” He said, nonchalantly.

“That would be nice.”

“Are you free next Saturday?” Oh wow, he’s good, real smooth.

“Yeah, in fact, I am.” 

“Looks like we’ll be doing this again soon, then.” He had that smug grin again. Then sat up, took your hand and you both walked out together.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

If I Go, I’m Goin

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1845

Part One

Summary: With the reader’s funeral just days away, the team worries about Reid. Spencer struggles to cope and finds himself going to places he remembers being with you. Inspired by the song If I Go, I’m Goin by Gregory Alan Isakov. 

Notes: I know. I’m mean. 

Warnings: Character death, grief, depression

More Criminal Minds: HERE

-

And the photographs know I’m a liar

They laugh as I burn her down

She wasn’t leaving until he opened the door. J.J. knocked again, this time a little louder than the first. She had given him a day to himself, but now she was worried. It had been less than 48 hours since Y/N died. Everyone was dealing with it differently. Prentiss and Morgan went to the shooting range, Hotch buried himself in paperwork, Penelope was running around trying to fix everything, and Rossi was being, well, Rossi. 

Everyone thought it was a good idea to let Reid be alone for a while, but they didn’t know what J.J. knew. They didn’t know what Y/N had told her that day. Of course, everyone had their suspicions, but J.J, and maybe Penelope, were the only ones that knew that Spence just lost the woman he’d loved for at least the past year. 

The door slowly opened just enough for him to look out. From the little sliver that she could see, he didn’t look well. His eyes were sunken and dark and it looked like he hadn’t changed clothes since the hospital. The sight of his despair nearly brought tears to her eyes. 

“Hey J.J.” 

“Spence.” She greeted, her voice quiet and empathetic. “Can I come in?” 

“Uh, I guess. Sure.” He stepped aside and let her walk past him into his living room. It was strangely well put together. She expected things to be discarded on the floor, for the kitchen sink to be full with dishes. But the only thing that seemed out of place was a single chair facing the window. “Why did you come?” 

“I just wanted to see how you were holding up.” 

“Did Hotch tell you to come see me?” 

“Spence-”

“Because I really don’t need a psych evaluation right now.” He sat down in the chair in front of the window. Honestly, it was where he had been for the hours before J.J. got there. He just sat, looking out like he was waiting for Y/N to come down the street. 

“I came here as a friend, Spencer. Not as an agent.” 

“Oh.” She watched as the previous outburst lost its effect on him and he slumped forward, leaning his head on the glass. It was like watching a wounded animal stop fighting. It broke her heart. 

Spencer didn’t say anything else. When J.J. asked him a question, he responded with either a silent nod or a quiet mumble. Eventually, there was nothing else she could say. 

“We’re all here, Spence.” She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “If you need anything before the funeral…” The last word nearly caught in her throat. Funeral. J.J. kept a steady appearance, leaning over and kissing the top of his head. “Bye Spence.” 

He didn’t say anything as the door closed behind her. He didn’t even look back. Spencer kept his gaze out the window and watched J.J. get in her car and drive away. He must have sat there for a few more hours because by the time he finally moved, it was dark out.  

He forced himself to stand and walk back to his room so he could take a much needed shower. Seeing his still made bed made his stomach twist. His mind conjured the image of a quiet morning, none in particular, where he laid with her. He laid with Y/N in his arms as the sun peeked through the windows. Just as quickly as it had come, the vision left, returning the room to its original empty state. 

Spencer moved through his apartment aimlessly, his body moving before his mind could catch up. His thoughts were far away, trapped in those woods with the constant sound of an arrow cracking through bone. It cracked through his chest, leaving only a painful ache. He stepped into the shower with his clothes still on. 

-

This old house, she’s quite the keeper

Quite the keeper of you

He was there before anyone else, sitting in the dim light by himself for nearly an hour. When Hotch quietly trudged to his office, he stopped suddenly, seeing the form sitting at his desk. 

“Reid?” He flipped on the main lights and looked warily at the young agent. While he didn’t show it, Hotch noticed Reid’s disheveled appearance and blank expression. “What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to do some paperwork,” Reid replied, keeping his eyes trained in front of him. Hotch set his briefcase down. 

“I told the team to take a few days off.”

“You’re here.” 

“I have to deal with…” He trailed off, dreading the report sitting on his desk. Reid nodded, still not entirely paying attention to his supervisor. 

“Right.” He continued to slowly tap his pen against the surface of his desk. Hotch knew that the psych evals weren’t until after everyone came back, but Reid was worrying him. Grabbing his briefcase, he kept a close eye on him as he went to his office. 

Spencer stared at the desk across from him. 

“Come on, there has to be something that you don’t know.” You challenged, chewing absentmindedly on the cap of your pen. Normally he would remark on how many germs were on the average pen, but when you did it, he thought it was cute. 

“Of course there are things I don’t know, I just don’t talk about them because I don’t know them well enough to talk about them.” 

“I bet you can’t name every character in Star Wars.” 

“Alphabetically or in order of appearance.” He smirked smugly. 

He blinked and the memory was gone. Y/N was gone and the emptiness returned. Spencer stood up, wanting to find something that would conjure another image of her. He wandered aimlessly around the office, slowly weaving in between desks. He opened the drawers of her old desk, but they had already been emptied. Her parents must have already cleaned it out. 

Right. Her parents were here. He’d almost forgotten. They were here for the… 

Somehow, he found himself standing in the break room in front of the empty coffee maker. He made himself a pot, not really thinking about his motions as he put the grounds in the filter and poured the water. It wasn’t until he imagined her hand on his arm that he felt anything at all. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, an amused smile playing at his lips. 

“I’m dancing.” You twirled to the other side of him, your playful laugh filling the small room. 

“There isn’t any music playing.” 

“Who said you need music to dance, Spence?” You took his hands and spun into him, giggling relentlessly. “Come on, dance with me.” 

“Are you crazy? We’re at work.” He tried to sound stern, but he just laughed instead. 

“So? Nobody will see us.” You put a hand on his shoulder and moved his arm around your waist. You both swayed to the music in your mind, your hearts somehow playing the same song. For a moment, you forgot where you were. You forgot that there was another horrific case awaiting you in the conference room and all that existed was you and the man that held you. 

“Hey Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.” It seemed now that the two of you were swaying to the sounds of your heartbeats. You blinked up at him, surprised at first, but soon a bright smile spread across your face. 

“I love you too.” 

This vision faded slower than the last, Y/N’s face staying until the last possible moment. His arms ached from the emptiness, his feet rocking back and forth like he was dancing all on his own. 

“Reid.” Hotch’s voice halted the music in his mind. His voice was grimmer, almost sadder than it was before. “Are you ready to go?” 

“Go?” He read Hotch’s expression. “Oh. Right. That’s today.” Hotch nodded and stood aside so Reid could pass by. 

“I’ll drive you home so you can change.” 

-

If I go, I’m goin crazy

Let my darlin take me there

It was a perfectly nice day, making him even more sick to his stomach. The sun was out and clouds lazily drifted across the sky. He wished it would have rained. At least then, the world would look like he felt; colorless and dark. 

Y/N’s parents both shared a few words and Penelope did the eulogy. Spencer was sure it was nice, but he couldn’t focus enough to really hear any of the words. Hotch kept a close eye on him, though he tried not to be obvious about it. Spencer felt like everyone was watching him, waiting for his numb exterior to break. He knew they meant well, but he’d appreciate it if they were a little more subtle about it. 

Somehow, the ceremony felt both eternal and over too quickly. Before he had even moved to put his rose on the coffin, it seemed like everyone was leaving. Maybe it was just him; frozen in time until he could bring himself to step forward. It still felt like everyone was staring at him. How many people even knew about him and Y/N? Maybe everyone, at this point. They were profilers after all and he hadn’t been abundantly subtle on that last case. 

That last case. 

Suddenly the rose in his hand was an arrow, bloody and splintered at one end. It fell between his fingers and hit the grass as a flower again. A petal fell off and he held it to his lips. Was he going insane? Was this what it would be like from now on? Everything reminding him of that last moment with her? With the blood and the arrow and the screaming? 

With a slow, shaky hand, he placed the rose on the coffin. Someone put their hand on top of his, but when he turned, there wasn’t anyone there and suddenly, he felt something… peaceful. Something that told him that all he would need to remember were the good things. The smiles. The laughter. The dances in the breakroom. Despite every logical impulse in his mind, every scientific fact he knew by memory, he knew. It was her. Y/N.

Finally, he started to cry. The numbness was gone and allowed for emotion to finally come to light. Sobs shook his body and nearly made his knees buckle, but he made himself stand. He ran his fingers over the gleaming surface of the coffin and cried. 

“I love you. I’ll always love you.” 

He must have stood there like that for at least an hour, if not several, but when he turned around, he found his team- his family- waiting there for him. And they walked away together, always to remember the member that they lost. A friend. A sister. A lover. And Spencer would never forget you, as long as he lived. 

I will go if you ask me to

I will stay if you dare

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216​

Requested Tag: @ lolalee24; @ haylaansmi; @ obsssedwithjustaboutanything;

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Being Fake Soulmates with Dr. Chilton (Part 6)

<- Part 5

Frederick Chilton x Reader | The Good Place crossover

Final chapter! Warning: The Good Place spoilers, and a timeline that makes perfect sense because Jeremy Bearimy, baby. 

2,800 words

“No way. It’s too dangerous!”

“I thought you said we were in this together?” Chilton quirked a brow, eliciting a petulant grumble. You crossed your arms.

“Or maybe you think I’m expendable, so you’re willing to take risks with my life. Afterlife. Whatever.”

Frederick Chilton, who was not, as originally advertised, your soulmate, nonetheless clasped your hand with gentle tenderness. I would never do anything to hurt you is what a normal person would say in that moment, and perhaps his eyes said it, somewhere deep in their searching pools of green. But Dr. Chilton had a repressed way about him, tending toward overly clinical just stating the facts (or the sarcasm). Anything but genuine, vulnerable, sentimentality.

He guided you by your hand to sit down beside him on the baroque loveseat in one of his many living rooms, studies, and salons. After you settled yourself on the velvet cushion, he leaned his shoulder against yours in that quiet way he showed affection.

“After reviewing the town records,” he said, “I believe we may be the only two humans in the neighborhood. Some of the residents are far too dull—Chidi Anagonye, the moral philosophy professor who spent his life writing a single manuscript, Jianyu the silent monk—while others are too perfect—Glen, that one who is constantly volunteering, Tahani, the philanthropist. Real people have flaws, secrets, hobbies. I can only be certain of myself and you.”

“How’d you figure out I’m real?”

“I didn’t. I simply refuse to accept the alternative,” he said with a sad smile, and you began to think Dr. Chilton was sentimental after all.

***

Their voices were muffled even with your ear pressed to the door of Michael’s office—not that it mattered much what they were talking about. You were just waiting for the signal, and at that moment, it came. Their footsteps and voices grew louder as Frederick and Michael approached, and the door handle clicked.

“—which is why cannibalism loses more good-person points than defenestration but fewer than chewing loudly on a crowded bus.”

“Fascinating. I never thought about it that way,” said Chilton, looking genuinely disturbed.

You flattened yourself against the wall next to the door, thinking thin thoughts as the pair exited the office. A tall houseplant barely disguised your presence, and if Michael had any kind of peripheral vision, he would see you standing there plain as day.

But Dr. Chilton spoke animatedly, fixing him with a challenging laser-stare as he asked a probing follow-up question. Locked in Chilton’s eyes, Michael failed to notice the movement just behind his left shoulder as you slipped through the closing door before it could latch shut.

Safe.

Michael’s office was quiet and filled you with serenity in much the same way a teddy bear is filled with stuffing: forcefully and by no will of your own. Like the welcome room with its happy green plants and happy green words on the wall assuring you everything is fine, the office peeled your defenses away. Cream-colored walls yawned out around the perimeter, punctuated with bright windows, a portrait of Doug Forcett (a stoner from the 1970s who guessed, on a mushroom trip, how the afterlife really worked), and various artifacts of humanity enshrined like museum pieces, despite seeming perfectly mundane.

At the top of the room was a large mahogany desk.

Yesterday, Chilton watched Michael put away files in the desk that he wouldn’t let him look at. Chilton was certain they were the key to unraveling the mystery, so he suggested working together—he would distract Michael while you sneaked in to find the files. It was risky, but it might have been your only chance of discovering what was going on, and if there was a way to escape.

You began poking through the desk and found stacks of papers in an unreadable alphabet. The only thing you could read were lyrics to a genuinely terrible song Michael was writing titled “Love Train to the Cosmos.”

The last drawer wouldn’t budge.

Yanking the handle didn’t work. Banging on the side with your fist failed to unstick it. It was locked. Locked drawers were suspicious. The answers had to be in there.

You eyed a mountain of paperclips lovingly displayed on a pedestal labeled “Human Things.” Snatching two off the top, you unbent and re-bent the stiff metal wire, and inserted it into the lock. Faint clicks sounded as you turned and finessed the paperclip, feeling each pin in the tumbler slide into place. Then you gently turned it, and—pop. The drawer opened.

A single manila folder stamped TOP SECRET in threatening red letters rested inside, as if waiting to be found. You picked it up and opened it, and your breath caught. They were reports on “The Good Place.” The Good Place in quotation marks. Reports about you.

A pleasant bing sounded.

Janet materialized in front of the desk. For once, she was not wearing a cheery smile.

***

Frederick Chilton had always been a selfish man. Any opportunity that could advance his career and put him in the spotlight, he would take it no matter who it hurt. “Unorthodox therapy,” he called it in his private chats with Dr. Lecter. They bonded over their shared interest in unorthodox research before he learned Dr. Lecter was a cannibal. That would have been a clue to anybody else that it was time to change his ways, but Dr. Chilton spent the rest of his years just as selfish and petty—more so, even, as his disfiguring injuries gave him more reason for spite.

He could never accept himself as he was.

By the time he died, Chilton was an intolerable asshole who paid back the world’s cruelty with his chronic foul moods and acerbic sarcasm. He kept everyone at a distance.

And yet, here, in death, he found himself worrying over someone else.

The sun was shining in the ever-blue sky, dappled by lush green foliage before reaching the two men as they strolled the neighborhood below. Michael was built like a sapling with longer legs than he knew what to do with, making Chilton nearly jog to keep pace. He had a warm smile and an outgoing demeanor—always flattering Chilton’s ego and asking for his guidance. But something malignant hid behind those smiling eyes, and Chilton’s mind kept rushing back to you, hoping you were OK.

He hoped that you were safe. Not that the plan was going smoothly. That you were safe.

There was a difference, and Dr. Chilton noticed right away that his twitchy nervousness was not wrought of self-preservation. It was a new type of panic—worse than fear for himself, which he never thought possible considering the amount of terror he had experienced on his own behalf.

To distract himself, Chilton threw himself into the role of Michael’s assistant, focusing on his task of supposedly identifying psychological issues causing problems with the neighborhood.

“Our interviews should go in alphabetical order, under the pretense of a survey—a sort of afterlife census—to avoid suspicion. It should be feasible, with only three hundred residents—”

“We know,” Michael said coolly. His voice dropped from the usual friendly, flattering demeanor, slipping off like a mask.

“You know how you are going to handle the interviews? It is imperative the subjects do not suspect they are being studied.” Chilton swallowed, knowing full well that he was talking to the real Michael for the first time.

“Don’t play dumb.” Michael smiled an entirely different type of smile, twisted and clever with no warmth in it. “We’ve been watching you, Dr. Chilton. We knew you would figure it out eventually. It was only a matter of time before you saw through a psychiatric study.”

Chilton’s interest piqued at the same time his blood went cold. He wet his lips. “Is that what all this is, then?”

The pair came to a stone bridge that arched gracefully over a reflection pool. Michael stopped midway across, leaned one of his long, pointed elbows on the railing, and cocked his head at Chilton.

“You haven’t figured it all out yet? That’s disappointing. You humans really are so dense.” His tone was so mean that Chilton took an unconscious step back. Michael only laughed and told him there was no point in running away. “But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to offer,” he promised.

Most of what you had been told about the afterlife was true, Michael explained. There was a real good place, and there was a real bad place where bad people were tortured for all eternity. But the bad place had a problem: it was boring! Humans get used to physical pain after the first few centuries, no matter how creative the punishment.

“Once you’ve flattened a thousand penises, you’ve flattened them all. I’m trying to do something new here. Innovate!” said Michael with an energetic swoop of his hand. “Emotional torture can cause the same level of discomfort, but in a more sustainable and (more importantly) entertaining way. That’s what this neighborhood is for—to study you humans and find out what makes you miserable.”

And then he offered Dr. Chilton something that grabbed his attention. The opportunity to design bad place neighborhoods.

“You are asking me to help implement psychological torture?” Chilton turned over each word cautiously.

“Oh,” Michael scoffed, “Don’t tell me you’re concerned about the ethics? Doctor, I’ve read your file.”

Chilton winced. He had done truly amoral things in the name of discovery—things it made him sick to be reminded of. Strange, though. In the past, he would have been proud to be treated as a peer by a psychopath. Not ashamed.

“Think of it, the glory, the prestige. You would be designing the afterlife for billions of souls. You will be remembered throughout eternity as the man who reformed the bad place!”

“And my soulmate?”

Chilton blurted it without thinking. It sounded so childish and naive, and sure enough, Michael shook his head and had a long chuckle at his expense.

“There’s no such thing! I thought you knew,” Michael slapped his knee. “I made it up so you would torture each other! But once again, I underestimated the human libido. You people all think with your genitals, it’s—it’s gross. Humans are gross.” He made a face. “That’s why I need your help to design a better system. With your understanding of the human mind, we can make condemned souls miserable for thousands of years.”

Chilton couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for this plan, and Michael frowned.

“If it makes you feel any better, consider this the humane option. The alternative is going back to scooping eyeballs out with melon ballers and replacing them with live bees. What do you say, doctor? Join my team.” Michael extended a hand, and Chilton eyeballed it.

“Can my soulmate—”

“Not a soulmate.”

“—come with me?”

“This offer is only open to you.”

“So they will be tortured? Alone? For eternity? In a system I help design?”

“Nothing you can do will change that. They are going to be tortured—the only person you can save is yourself, if you decide to help me.”

Frederick’s brow knit together. He thought about refusing. He really did. Abandoning you seemed unthinkable, especially after your promise to each other to stick together. But he was a selfish creature, and choosing to be punished wouldn’t protect you. If he was lucky, by teaming up with Michael, he could design a more comfortable torture for you one day.

“Maybe this will help make up your mind,” Michael said. “Hannibal Lecter.”

“Lecter?”

“He’s here. In the bad place. So far, he has been especially resistant to traditional torture. I thought you might have a personal interest in taking a crack at him?”

***

On a floating, room-sized projection screen, Frederick Chilton shook Michael’s hand. Your head fell forward, shoulders slumping. The screen flicked off and dissipated into the office air.

“This is the 764th time he has failed,” said Janet, giving a sympathetic simulation of a sigh. “We were sure he was going to make the right decision this time.”

You shook your head. “Fame and glory? Revenge? He’ll never refuse those. Trust me—he died because of them and still never learned his lesson.”

“That is what we’re afraid of. Some people never pass their tests. Fun fact!” she perked up, “Hannibal Lecter’s test is working at a Burger King where he can only cook Impossible Whoppers, and his 19-year-old manager calls him pee-paw. He gets reset every time he eats a customer. His longest record is twelve hours.”

When Janet found you snooping in Michael’s desk, you expected to be dragged away, never to see Frederick again. Instead, she explained everything to you—the truth.

A long time ago, the bad place was exactly how Michael described it—a place where souls were sent to have their orifices filled with spiders for eternity. Then he decided to try something new. Originally, he paired you with Dr. Chilton hoping you would drive each other crazy. But no matter what happened, you kept falling in love. You kept supporting each other, and taking care of each other. The same happened with his other human test subjects—they kept improving and becoming better people than they were on Earth. Eventually, Michael changed, too.

He redesigned the bad place to be a test—a chance for human souls to earn their way into the good place. At the end of each test, you either pass and go to the good place, or your memories are erased and you start over again.

“So, what happens to me now?”

“You passed. You can go to the good place now, and spend the rest of eternity in paradise. The real one.”

“And Frederick? He’ll be alone?”

Janet nodded.

“Put me back in. Reset me, and make me his soulmate again.”

“Are you sure?” Janet asked.

“I’m not going without him.”

“He would leave you behind. You just saw that.”

“That wasn’t fair. Anyone would accept that deal. I would accept that deal!”

“No. You wouldn’t,” Janet said. “You passed your test a long time ago.”

For a while, a heavy silence fell between you as you processed this. Finally, you thought of the only question worth asking. “How many times have we had this conversation?”

“762.”

“Well then,” you said. “You know what I’m going to say.”

“I do. But you retain a vague sense of your memories from previous tests. At a subconscious level, you might realize you’re tired of this.”

You smiled. A big, genuine one that balled your cheeks and creased the corners of your eyes. “That’s not how I feel at all. I think I love him more every time.”

Janet nodded, but gave one last warning before erasing your memories again. “If he never passes, you could be stuck here forever.”

“Stuck falling in love with that insecure jerk over and over again for thousands of years? Sounds like heaven to me.”

“I thought you might say that.”

***

The first day, you really wanted to punch his pretentious snobby face for thinking he was so much better than you.

The first time you laid eyes on Dr. Frederick Chilton, he was waiting behind a mahogany desk with an ancient hardcover book in his hands. Not reading it—waiting, posed deliberately to be discovered that way, and give the impression of intellectualism.

“This is your soulmate,” said Michael, introducing you.

Chilton took a step back after shaking your hand and looked you up and down critically, as if he were appraising livestock. And right away, you knew there had been a terrible mistake. Who the fork did he think he—

Fork. Fork! Why couldn’t you say fork?!

***

Bright light streamed in through the open bedroom window. The weather was always perfect here, except when some glitch made it rain caviar and jelly beans. Or that time Frederick had a vivid nightmare, and organs began falling from the sky. Every day, something horrible seemed to go wrong in the good place. Things that challenged you and pushed your soulmate to his limits.

But most mornings were like this. Quiet. A time just for the two of you.

Your fingers lightly stroked his chest, delving into the soft hairs that rose and fell with his steady breathing. You pressed a soft kiss to his skin, then another, tracing a line of them lower, over a jagged, raised line down his abdomen. His scars let you know he was waking up. This was the good place—he didn’t have to let them show. Usually, he chose to appear as a younger version of himself, before all the indelible trauma. But on peaceful mornings like this, he would let them show just so you could soothe them. He never thought he would be that comfortable with anyone. That he could trust anyone so much.

Every day, you both knew you could overcome anything, so long as you were together.

[marvelyningreen]

Aftershocks - Night 2

Night 1 | Night 2 | Night 3 | (deleted scene)

[Summary: Peter Maximoff is an unflappable sorta guy. He’d never let anything get to him before, and this recent misadventure will be no different. ...Right?

Warnings: mild language, alcohol use, references to injury & false imprisonment, general trauma-related angst

Notes: Peter Maximoff x reader, of the established relationship variety. A ‘what if Fietro really was Peter?’ scenario. Same continuity/reader character from Linger and Late-bloomer. ]

On the second night, Kurt and Jubilee organize a party. It’s sort of a ‘welcome back’ for Peter, and a ‘welcome in general’ for Wanda and the twins.

It’s awfully sweet of them. And you’re impressed that they’ve managed to order in enough food for everyone on such short notice.

Peter had been busy for most of the day. He’d volunteered to help the professor and continue playing tour guide for Wanda and the kids. You’d offered to help, too, but Peter insisted that you should take it easy. He’s probably right, much as you’d hated to admit it. There’s no way you could’ve kept up with him and two energetic kids.

And that’s how you ended up spending the most of the morning in the lab with Hank.

In true Hank fashion, he had tons of questions, and you did your best to answer them. There are still quite a few things you don’t fully understand yourself.

The revelation that other realities exist is wild to begin with. A world where mutants don’t exist but magic does sounds like a work of fiction. And then there’s the fact that Wanda’s from someplace called ‘Sokovia?’ As far as you and Hank could figure, that country has never existed in your world.

Hank’s scientific curiosity was focused on trying to wrap his head around how Wanda’s powers worked, and how they could’ve caused Captain Rambeau to spontaneously develop powers of her own. You weren’t able to be much help there, but once Hank gets himself hypothesizing, he could talk for hours with no input from anyone else.

Eventually, you brought up your concerns about Peter and his odd lapses in memory. Hank’s brows furrowed pensively as he listened.

“Well, I can tell you there’s nothing physically wrong with Peter,” he said. “I could ask him to let me examine him again, but if the issue isn’t a physical one, that might just make things worse. If you’re really worried about him, my advice is to talk to Charles.”

You sighed. “And he’s busy showing Wanda around.”

Which was exactly where Peter would be, so no chance to talk to the professor without him noticing. Hank stood up, patting your shoulder.

“Listen, I know I’m not great company when I’m focused on work,” he said, “But you’re welcome to stay here while you wait.”

“Thanks,” you said. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”

You’d actually spent a lot of time down in the lab since your reality warping abilities had fully manifested. Hank was fascinated by getting to witness them in person, and the fact that you’d used them to save his life probably had something to do with it.

You leaned back in your chair, stretching out your injured leg a little. It didn’t take Hank long to get so immersed in his work that he started thinking aloud to himself, trying to work out some complicated chemical reaction.

Your thoughts drifted back to Peter. He’d seemed distracted that morning, almost distant. You tried to think what caused it – if something had happened, or even if there was something you’d said…? But you couldn’t think of anything.

Maybe it’d had something to do with his dream. But no, he said he didn’t remember it. Maybe – and you were grasping at straws by this point – he was embarrassed that you’d seen it? That could be. Peter was a pretty open guy, and you hadn’t thought that machismo was one of his faults, but it’s a possibility.

Oh. Oh, damn it all – you’d done it again. You weren’t sure when your eyes had closed, or when you’d leaned your head back against the chair. Hank was still talking to himself-

Only no, he wasn’t. There was a second voice answering him now. Upon lifting your head, you noticed that Hank’s jacket was folded under it as a makeshift pillow. You blinked in the brightness of the lab, looking around to see where the conversation was coming from.

Hank and the professor broke off as they noticed you stirring. Hank smiled apologetically.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he explained. “You looked so tired. I figured you could use the rest.”

“Apparently I did. Sorry about that,” you said, sitting up straight in the chair again. “What time is it?”

“Just after noon,” said the professor. “We decided to break for lunch, so Peter’s showing them the kitchens. Now, Hank tells me that something’s troubling you.”

“It’s Peter, sir,” you said. You went over everything once more – the diminishing memories of Westview, the nightmare. “Maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing, but… I don’t know. What if something that witch did is still affecting him?”

The professor had listened carefully while you spoke. You thought that he looked a little concerned, but you might’ve imagined it, because when you finished, he smiled.

“Thank you for coming to me with this,” he said, “But I have a feeling you’re not going to like my answer.”

You grimaced. “You’re going to tell me to wait and see, aren’t you.”

You’re well aware that this was the sort of thing the professor said when he was being evasive. He laughed.

“You’re a quick learner,” he said. “I will tell you that I truly believe Peter will be fine. If anything changes or worsens, don’t hesitate to bring it to my attention. But until that time, I’m leaving him in your care. I know I can rely on you.”

You gaze drifted to the floor, and you frowned slightly. Of course the professor could count on you to look after Peter. But how on earth were you supposed to help if you don’t know what’s going on?

If Peter had been physically hurt, that’s something you could fix. You were out of your depth here. Useless. Just like old times.

“None of that, if you please,” said the professor, in response to your thoughts. “Do you think I’d be leaving this in your hands if I didn’t think you were up to the task? Now, I’ve already told Peter that, as of today, he’s taking some mandatory time off, and the same goes for you. No missions for a while. You’re to get some rest and look after yourself. Understood?”

That surprised you. But before you could attempt to get anything more out of the professor, the door opened to admit Peter and the other Maximoffs. Peter’s face brightened as he caught sight of you.

“I figured you’d be down here,” he said. “And I also figured you probably didn’t eat lunch yet. Was I right? Yeah, I thought so. Which is why I brought lunch to you.”

“You know the rules,” Hank interrupted. “No food in the lab, Peter.”

Peter grinned, rolling his eyes, as he helped you to your feet.

“Alright, alright – we’re going,” he said.

Saying that you looked like you could use some daylight, Peter led you out of the lab to find somewhere to eat your lunch. He seemed cheerful and normal enough, and not, y’know, like he was avoiding you or something. You started to wonder if maybe you really were imagining things.

It was easy enough not to bring up the inconclusive conversation you’d had with the professor. The twins were bursting to tell somebody that there was going to be a party, and that it was gonna be their first party ever.

So far, it seems to be going well. The twins are already making friends among the younger students. Wanda still seems a little reserved – understandably – but the professor sticks close to her to make introductions and keep her company.

You’d like a chance to talk to her yourself, but maybe now isn’t the time. A party can be something of an overwhelming environment, especially now that you’ve been informed that you’re actually one of the guests of honor.

You probably should’ve seen this coming. You’re the one who took on a solo rescue mission, after all. Kurt sheepishly admits that they purposefully hadn’t told you that part because they figured you wouldn’t come if you knew. He is correct.

But Peter’s in his element as the life of the party – and he’s tipsy almost instantly. It’s one of the quirks of his mutant metabolism; alcohol hits him fast. Fortunately, drunk Peter is just an amped-up version of his usual cheerful and chaotic personality. You’re not much of a partier, yourself, so you’re content to enjoy his antics from the sidelines.

Which is what you’re doing when Jubilee sidles up to you.

“Okay, you have to tell me everything,” she says. “I mean, getting to go to another reality? What was it like?”

You laugh. “You’ve gotta be the fifth person to ask me that. Peter was there longer than I was.”

“But Peter doesn’t remember any of it,” she says, “And it’d be rude to ask Wanda a bunch of questions when we’ve only just met, so that leaves you. Now, spill.”

You satisfy Jubilee’s curiosity as best you can, but something she said strikes you as strange. Peter doesn’t remember anything about Westview? That doesn’t seem right.

When Captain Rambeau broke that mind control necklace, Peter didn’t seem confused or anything, just… Well, if you had to describe it, you’d say he looked horrified. And after he made sure that you were okay, the first thing he’d said was that the twins might still be in danger and that you all had to help them.

Then again, he’d let Wanda do all the explaining to the professor and Mr. Lehnsherr. And you’d gotten the rundown from that astrophysicist, Dr. Lewis, after she finished grumbling about being the exposition fairy, whatever that meant.

And Peter lives for being the center of attention. Overlooked and underappreciated for much of his life, a party like this is exactly the sort of validation he craves. If there was a chance for him to tell his story to a rapt audience, he’d jump at it.

So… maybe Peter really doesn’t remember anything. Maybe the whole thing is like a dream for him. The further away from it that he gets, the less clear the memory is.

When the party starts to wind down, the same can’t be said for Peter. Just as you’re trying to work out how on earth you’re going to corral him, Logan catches your eye.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get him,” he says.

You grin. “I thought you said that he’s my problem now.”

“He is. But that knee’s not gonna help you carry his ass upstairs.” Logan drains the last of his drink and calls across the room. “Alright, kid! Time to pack it in!”

Peter waves, takes an unsteady step towards you, and manages to run smack into Logan a split second later. Logan shoots you an exasperated look.

“What’d I tell you?” he says.

Logan manages to keep Peter upright as you head upstairs, but keeping him quiet is another thing entirely. Peter spends the entire walk explaining to Logan – in fumbling but earnest detail – all the ways in which you are the most amazing person he has ever met.

When Logan gets a word in edgewise, it’s to inform you that Peter’s been doing this all evening to anybody who would listen, and even to the people who wouldn’t. You’re honestly not sure if you feel more flattered or mortified.

At long last, you reach Peter’s door, and Logan props him up against the doorframe.

“Alright, he’s officially your problem again,” he says. “Goodnight.”

“G’night, old-timer!” Peter calls, waving off your attempts to shush him. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

He opens the door and nearly tumbles back into the room. He catches himself, clearing his throat as he straightens up.

“I meant to do that,” he says.

You shake your head, trying to bit back a grin. Once the door is closed behind you, you steer Peter towards the bed and sit him down. He takes hold of your hands.

“Listen. Listen. I have to tell you something.” He struggles to turn his bleary expression serious. “I love you, so much. You just… I love you, okay?”

Is it wrong that you find this slurred profession of love incredibly heartwarming? You smile at Peter, leaning down to kiss him.

“I know,” you say softly. “I love you, too. But you gotta get some sleep now, okay?”

Peter nods, frowning slightly for some reason.

“I know, I know,” he says.

He flops back onto the bed, mumbling something that might be lyrics to a song. And by the time you get his shoes off, he’s conked out completely.

After setting Peter’s shoes aside, you sit down on the sofa again. You know he’s fine. Sure, he’s drunk, but he’s not that drunk. But what if he needs something? Or what if he has another nightmare?

You know you shouldn’t dwell on everything, but once you start thinking about it, you find you can’t stop. You wonder what it was like for Peter, being dragged from this reality into another, having his personality forcibly rewritten.

If your experience had been unpleasant, how much worse must it have been for him?

The second you’d stepped into Westview, you were nearly overwhelmed. Some unknown power seemed to be forcing a name – not your own – onto you like a shackle around your neck. A thousand memories of a life you hadn’t lived flooded your mind. More alarming still, Peter was present in many of them. You had no idea if what you were seeing was the past, or the future, or something else entirely.

And underneath it all was a crushing, all-encompassing feeling of utter despair. It threatened to swallow you whole, and it seemed pointless to fight it.

And then – a calm, familiar presence in your mind. You remembered turning back, seeing the professor’s face as he watched you enter the portal. Suddenly, the onslaught lifted, and you were simply yourself again.

Also, you’d apparently collapsed at some point, because you were laying on the pavement with a tall blond stranger leaning over you.

He was the only person who seemed at all concerned that you’d just fainted in the middle of the street. He said his name was Vision. You introduced yourself as Ace. It was close enough to your codename that you’d remember it, and the professor had cautioned you against saying too much about where you’d come from.

But Vision seemed to recognize that there was something different about you, that you’d come from outside Westview. He was worried about his children, and his wife, and the rest of the citizens. You explained that you didn’t know what had happened to the town, and that you’d come looking for a missing friend.

You’d just agreed to try to help each other when reality seemed to bend around you, and suddenly you were sitting in a diner finishing a cup of coffee, and Vision was nowhere in sight.

The next time you saw him, the spell was ending, and he disappeared. You wish you could’ve gotten the chance to get to know him better. He seemed like a good man.

You try to put that from your mind. It’s just gonna make you sad again if you think about it for too long.

Instead, you glance over at Peter. He seems to be sleeping soundly, which is good.

But memories of Westview aren’t done with you yet.

You’ve had nightmares before about people you know acting in ways that were frighteningly unlike them. And even knowing it was all just a dream, you always felt a little uneasy the next time you’d see them. It’s the same way you feel watching Peter now.

That’s not fair; you know it isn’t. And maybe out of context, it’d sound strange to get worked up about it. But to have the person you love – the person who loves you – treat you with indifference, and get cruel enjoyment out of your pain?

That’s the stuff of nightmares.

Enough of that. You give your head a shake, like that’ll clear your thoughts somehow. It wasn’t Peter. It was the witch that was controlling him, forcing him to do all those things. You know this. It’s just lucky he hadn’t been forced to really hurt anyone.

It’s over, and Peter doesn’t remember what it was like, and that’s probably for the best.

Still, as you watch him sleep, you find yourself so badly wanting to hold him that it almost makes your chest ache. Peter hasn’t just been distant emotionally since Westview.

Since you’d started dating, Peter was a source of constant casual physical affection. Whenever you were together, he’d always have his arm around you, or be holding your hand, or sit close enough that his leg was pressed against yours. You hadn’t realized how much you’d gotten used to it – grown to expect it, even – until it’s suddenly absent.

Having be so withdrawn from you now, well… It hurts, if you’re being honest, especially since you don’t know why, and you don’t know how to help.

But there’s nothing you can do about it at this moment. And, since Peter doesn’t look to be having any more nightmares, it’s probably time for you to go. You ease yourself onto your feet, just now noticing how stiff your knee has gotten after standing around all evening at the party.

You limp as quietly as you can towards the door – and proceed to trip over Peter’s shoes.

You yelp in pain as your knee twists and you go crashing to the floor. You grit your teeth, trying not to swear.

And suddenly the lights are on in the room, and Peter’s kneeling beside you.

“What happened?” he asks. “Are you okay?”

That’s right. As fast as Peter gets drunk, he sobers up just as quickly. He looks present and alert at the moment, if a little worried.

“I tripped over the damn shoes,” you answer. “I’m fine, I think. I just-”

You break off, wincing, as you try to straighten out your leg. Damn it. Is it possible to double-sprain something? Because that’s what it feels like.

“Hang on,” says Peter. “Let me help.”

He doesn’t take your hands and help you stand up, like you’re expecting. Instead, he loops your arm around his shoulders and scoops you up bridal-style. The fact that he doesn’t use his superspeed almost disorients you more than if he had.

At a normal pace, he walks back and sets you down not on the sofa, but on his bed. He blurs for just a second, but that’s only to stack up his pillows to give you something to lean against.

As you gingerly straighten out your leg, Peter reaches out – to try to help, you suppose – then lets his hands fall in his lap.

“Thanks,” you say.

Peter frowns worriedly. “Can’t you do the…?”

He makes a gesture like he’s laying on hands or something, which confuses you for a second before you catch his meaning.

“Oh, I can’t do the healing stuff on myself,” you say. “Or at least I don’t know how yet. I gotta heal the old-fashioned way.”

You give him a wry smile. It could be worse, after all. You could’ve actually broken something. Peter doesn’t seem very reassured.

“I should get Hank,” he says.

“No, don’t!” you say as quickly as you can. “It’s not that bad. I’ll go to him in the morning, if I need to.”

No sense in dragging the poor man out of bed if it’s not an emergency. Unconvinced, Peter bites his lip.

“If you’re sure,” he says reluctantly, “But… Don’t move, okay? I’m gonna get you some ice.”

He’s gone. And then he’s back, holding a couple icepacks and a towel. You reach down to take the knee-brace off, but Peter swats your hands away. Why on earth-?

“Would you stop that?” he says, perching on the edge of the bed. “I’m trying to nurse you back to health here.”

You laugh in spite of yourself. “Always the romantic.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why you like me.”

He’s not wrong. Peter flashes you a grin, and it’s so cheerful and unguarded and normal that it’s startling. This boy is gonna give you whiplash yet; you’re sure of it.

But then he looks down again to focus on the task at hand. He’s extraordinarily gentle as he undoes the brace and settles the icepacks on and around your knee. You want to turn his face towards you and kiss him, but you don’t. He must have some reason for keeping his distance.

As he’s finishing up, he finally speaks.

“I’m… I’m kinda afraid to ask, honestly, but how did you get hurt? It wasn’t- I mean,” Peter exhales forcefully, and hesitates before asking: “Was it me?”

His big, dark eyes meet yours, and the distress in his face nearly breaks your heart.

“What? No! Of course it wasn’t you,” you say.

Peter seems to relax a little, but still has that troubled look in his eyes. He really doesn’t remember, does he? You did get into a scuffle with him while he was still under mind control, and he had ended up knocking you down, but it hadn’t hurt you any more than tripping on the sidewalk would’ve. Also… this doesn’t seem like the right time to mention that part of the story. You hurry to explain.

“It was that witch – Agnes, or Agatha, or whatever her name is,” you say. “She couldn’t send me back, and she couldn’t get in my head, so she dumped me in the Westview Hospital psych ward.”

Peter’s jaw drops. “She what?”

“I mean, it wasn’t like a horror story hospital or anything,” you clarify. “It was actually a pretty nice place, aside from the fact that they wouldn’t let me leave because they thought I was dissociating and suffering from delusions. Which is exactly what what’s-her-name was counting on.”

Peter nods slowly, evidently more confused and no less concerned. “Okay… that explains where you were, but it doesn’t explain how you got hurt.”

“Oh, right. When I wasn’t able to talk my way out, I had to use my powers to get a window open. Only…” you wince at the memory. “My powers didn’t fully work in Westview, and the window was on the second floor. So when I jumped out of it, gravity did exactly what it’s supposed to do.”

Peter presses a hand to his mouth. Okay, this explanation is clearly making things worse.

“And then – okay, this isn’t funny, but it’s kinda funny. It was suddenly Halloween, so the streets were all covered in people and I had to hide, so I crawled into somebody’s hedges. Problem is, they spotted me and came over to see what was going on. So I told them,” you snort involuntarily just remembering it, “I told them that I was dressed up as a zombie, but it’s okay, I’m hiding in their hedge because I’m a method actor. And somehow, they bought it.”

You end your rambling with an awkward laugh, but it dies almost immediately. The anecdote didn’t mollify Peter even a little bit. Maybe you should’ve mentioned the part where you had to steal clothes off a scarecrow? … No, that probably wouldn’t have helped either.

Brows furrowed, eyes still troubled, he stares down at his hands. “You could’ve gone back. Why didn’t you go back?”

“Peter, I went to Westview to bring you home,” you say. “I wasn’t going to leave you behind.”

Although, now that he mentions it, going back for reinforcements probably would’ve been the smart thing to do. It honestly never occurred to you at the time. You were so focused on rescuing Peter that you couldn’t think of anything else.

For someone who allegedly doesn’t remember anything, Peter looks awfully distressed.

“Peter…?” you say, softly, “Are you alright?”

Before he can answer, you shiver violently, startling yourself as much as Peter, and completely breaking the moment.

“Sorry,” you say. “It’s the icepacks. I should probably get going soon, since I’m already cold.”

Peter blinks, and suddenly the shadow seems to lift from his mood. He’s bright and brisk again, taking the icepacks off of your knee.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says. “You’re not gonna go limping around in the cold in the middle of the night. You’ll end up getting sick on top of everything. You can stay here. No, don’t get up. I’ll crash on the couch this time.”

He’s really taking this ‘nurse you back to health’ thing seriously, isn’t he? Even if he’s just playing at it, it’s still kinda sweet. You can’t help but smile a little.

“How very Jane Austen of you,” you say.

Peter snorts. “That’s gotta be the nerdiest compliment anyone’s ever given me. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

As he finishes setting aside the icepacks, he turns back to face you.

“Now,” he says, “Is there anything else you need?”

Half-smiling, he looks at you with those big dark eyes, and you can’t help yourself. You lean forward, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a crushing embrace. You know it might make you look clingy, but you don’t care.

You’re fully prepared to pull away just as fast, but Peter’s arms fold around you almost instantly. He nestles his cheek against your head, gently stroking your hair.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”

When you finally do pull back, Peter smiles down at you, tilting his head slightly.

“I’m not going anywhere, alright?” he says. “I promise.”

He kisses your forehead, and helps you arrange the pillows and settle in for the night. After extracting a promise that you’ll wake him up if you need something, he retreats to the couch.

The familiar scent of Peter’s cologne lingers reassuringly on his pillows. He’s not going anywhere, you tell yourself. The person who took him is in no position to cause him any more harm.

So why does it feel like part of him is still gone?

[lishielish]

A Stark Reality - Chapter 18

Pairings: Tony Stark x OFC

Summary: Evelyn Abel awakes in Avengers Tower with a pounding headache and more questions than answers. Armed with the knowledge of the MCU, she’s determined to find a way to keep the snap from happening. But first she needs to gain the trust of the Avengers, and decide what information is safe to share, all while battling nightmares that take her breath away.

Series Tags: Slow Burn-ish, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, Canon Related, Isekai, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Dreams and Nightmares, Nightmares, Drinking, Alcohol, Swearing, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Omniscient, Self-Indulgent, Not Beta Read, Eventual Romance, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, trying hard to let Tony Stark live happily ever after, eventually, Flirting, some steve/evelyn, not quite a triangle, Domestic Avengers, Post-Iron Man 3, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Blood and Injury, Medical Procedures, Fluff and Angst

Word Count: 2,676

Chapter 18 of 26

AO3

Bad Moon Rising

“I thought you guys were coming in here to work your magic earlier?” Evelyn asked from her seat at the kitchen island.

“Well, princess, we did,” Tony said slowly as he buttered a piece of bread.  “But, our attention was needed elsewhere,” he looked up at her, gently emphasizing ‘elsewhere.’  “And by the time I made it back in here, our magic looked more like an unholy mess.  So to save everyone from the horror of it, I scrapped it.”  

He set the slice of bread butter-side down on the hot pan, the sizzle sounding like magic itself to Evelyn.

“How gallant,” she said with a smile.

He placed a slice of cheese on the bread in the pan, then looked over his shoulder at her, smiling back.  “One slice or two?”

“Two, please.”

“Rogers, one or two?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve said from the small table they’d all sat around earlier.

“Wasn’t a yes or no question… might as well have said ‘purple’ for all the help that was.”

Evelyn looked over at Steve.  He was staring absently out the window, an elbow on the table, his chin resting in the palm of his hand.  She slid off of the stool and pulled out a chair next to him.

“Alright, Steve?”

He jolted, looking from one side to the other before focusing on her.  “Yeah, just…”

“What else did Stephen tell you?”

“He said,” Steve hesitated.  “They aren’t normal nightmares…” he muttered.

Tony looked up from the sandwiches he had just flipped in the pan.  “We already know that.”  He turned off the burner and moved the pan, then turned to face them, leaning against the counter.  “Unless he told you how they’re not normal.”

“I’m just trying to understand it,” Steve said.  He looked at Evelyn.  “There has to be something we can do to prevent it.”

“Prevent what?” she asked.

“Strange said, the demon--he pulls you into his realm when you’re asleep.  The Nightmare Realm, he called it.  But you’re clearly still here physically when you’re sleeping.  What part of you is he taking?  How can we stop him?”

“Spells or something,” Tony said, recalling his previous conversation with Evelyn.  He pushed off the counter and got plates out with a sigh.  “That’s why none of us can do anything, and we have to wait for the wizard.  To find a spell or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised in surprise, then furrowed.  He returned to his absent staring, thinking, and Evelyn followed suit.  A demon.  Another realm.  If Stephen couldn’t find a fix…  Her eyes drooped, her head nodded.  Another realm…

Tony placed a plate in front of her.  “Eat up, buttercup.  We need to get to the lab; you’re fading fast.  You sure you don’t want anything else with it?”

She shook her head, no.  “This is perfect, Tony. Thanks.”

He returned to the table with a plate for Steve and himself, and began eating while Steve continued thinking.

Entering the lab, Tony pulled out a chair for her.

Evelyn remained standing.  “Is that?  Dr. Banner’s?  I should probably-”

“If he wanted to worry about who was sitting in his chair, he should have stuck around.  Have a seat, Goldilocks, and let me see what I can find to keep your interest,” Tony said, flurrying around the room.

She kept walking, following him loosely.

“So, he was here--for a while?” she asked, then stopped where she stood to rub her eyes.

He popped his head up for a moment from behind a desk.  “Oh, he was here.  Helped design the lab, stuck around to enjoy it for a while, then packed up a few things one day and left, saying how it wasn’t such a great idea for him to be staying someplace surrounded by so many people.”  He held something up over his head, smiled, then continued his search.

“Sounds about right,” she mumbled.  

She wanted to ask more questions, but the exhaustion of the day--days--without sleep was settling into her bones.  Had it really been just this morning that she first encountered the nightmare man when she was awake?  Just this afternoon that she’d met Doctor Strange?  Just this evening that she’d had another run in with the nightmare man and injured her hand?  She rubbed the back of her neck.  How had so many things happened in a single day?

She rolled out the nearest chair, turned it around, and sat so she could watch Tony continue rummaging around.  He held something else up to show her, a victorious smile on his face.  She smiled back through bleary eyes.  She yawned widely and openly, squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment, then blinked them rapidly several times.  They were getting heavier and burned painfully, the bright lights overhead not helping.  She raised a hand to shade against them, as if blocking out the noontime sun.

“Doin alright over there?”  Tony asked, peering out from around a closet door to check on her.

Seeing her squinting and grimacing, he rushed to dim the lights to a more comfortable level.  He approached her, a prototype suit glove in his hand and worry in his eyes.

“All you gotta do is ask, Ev,” he said gently.  “Just let me know if something’s bothering you.”

She rubbed her eyes, then rubbed both hands over her face, bandage and all.

“But you need to see what you’re doing,” she said, squishing her cheeks up with her hands as she looked up at him.

He sat the glove on the desk, then kneeled in front of her.  “You feelin’ ok?  You look less good than usual.”

She chuckled weakly.  “Gee, thanks.  You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself,” she joked.

He rested his hands on her knees and smiled at her softly.

“You know what I mean.  You’re running on about a half hour of sleep in the last three days, if that…”

She dropped her bandaged hand to hold one of his, and rubbed her forehead with the other, then let it fall.  “It feels like my brain is rattling around inside my head… I’m not sure how much longer I can go before I keel over.”

He cupped her face with his free hand, pulling her down until their foreheads touched.  “I wish there was something I could do.  I feel so… useless.”

She mirrored his touch, feeling the rough overgrowth of his face from having not shaved.

“You already do so much,” she said with a small, reassuring smile.

His eyes darted from hers down to her lips, then back.  He tilted his face up, up, until their lips were a breath apart.

“It’s not enough,” he breathed, then pressed his lips softly to hers.

She leaned into him, her fingers sliding into his hair as their lips moved slowly, softly, against each other.  He shuffled forward against her knees.  She parted them, making space for him, which he took at once, pressing their bodies as close together as they could be, given the position.  

He brushed his tongue along her bottom lip, asking for admittance, and she obliged.  Their tongues met languidly as he sighed into her mouth.  He pulled her closer, his hand behind her head, fingers in her hair.  Then he kissed her gently, once, twice, three times--letting his lips linger, entwined with hers, after the last.

He pulled away slightly, her forehead resting against his, their noses pressed against one another.

“It’s not enough,” he repeated, his voice low and breathy, unsure if he meant their kiss or what little he could do to help her.

“Tony,” she backed away enough for his eyes to come into focus with hers.  “It’s more than I could ever ask for.  You will always be enough.”

He embraced her tightly, his face against her chest.  She pressed a long kiss onto the top of his head, one hand holding him closely to her, the other tenderly stroking his hair.  

She knew.  If anyone knew his strengths, his shortcomings, it was Evelyn.  She’d seen parts of his life he hadn’t even lived yet.  If she said he was enough, he knew she meant it.  He held her tighter, listening to her heart beat, feeling her breath in his hair.  He felt calm.  He felt safe.  He felt enough.  He hoped she felt the same.

He felt as her breathing deepened and her hold on him went slack.  He smiled, despite knowing what horrors sleep would bring her.  It wouldn’t be long; the nightmares had been starting sooner and sooner once she fell asleep.  He decided to stay where he was, holding her close, as the dream began to take her.

Things were different.  She wasn’t standing on the battlefield that had once been the Avengers Compound.  She wasn’t even standing on Earth.  This was Titan.

“Asshole!  Tell me you didn’t do it!”

“No… n-n-n-n-n-no!”  She ran toward the sound of Quill’s voice.  If she could stop him, if they could get the gauntlet off…

She rounded the corner in time to see Thanos snatching the gauntlet back onto his hand and thwacking everyone off of him.

“Noooo,” she groaned.  “Why would you send me here?”

A whistle began, slow, low, and close to her ear.  I see a bad moon a-rising…  She recognized the tune immediately, and looked to the sky as her heart leapt into her throat, then searched the ground.  Everyone was scattered, repeatedly recovering from being swatted away by Thanos as though they were just pesky flies, then attacking again, one at a time.

Where was Tony?

She felt lost.  It might be a dream, but at least on the battlefield at the Compound she knew where to go, she could find her way to him, but now… I see trouble on the way…

“Tony?!” she shouted, wondering if anyone could even hear her.

She looked back at Thanos, just as he cracked his head against Tony’s and Tony fell away.  Thanos reached his gauntlet-clad hand to the sky, and pulled.  The moon.  She ran, and jumped at his arm, but failed to reach.  He swatted her away with his other hand, the impact surprising her, and the breath left her lungs as she hit the ground.

Tony flew to her, moved her quickly to safety, then rushed off to slow the chunks of moon that were now being pulled to the surface.  I see earthquakes and lightnin’...  She pressed herself against the something Tony had sat her next to, bracing against the impact, then watched, stunned, as the fight continued.  He’d be ok.  She knew he’d be ok.  She’d seen it so many times before.  In the movie.

She watched as Stephen took the lead, matching Thanos spell for spell, then summoned his multiples.  He seemed to have Thanos on the ropes.  Then the gauntlet glowed with the light of two of the stones, and there was only one Stephen left.  Thanos had him by the throat, crushed the fake Eye of Agamotto, then tossed him aside.

“Stephen!”

Evelyn ran to him.  She knew he’d be alright, she’d seen it before, but…  She ran to him, crouching by his side, checking for a pulse to be sure.  

She heard Tony land, not far from where she was, and engage with Thanos once more.  There was nothing she could do… but watch.  She watched as they battled, seemingly evenly matched.  Until Tony made Thanos bleed.  Then, little by little, Tony’s suit started to break away as Thanos doubled down.  Tony produced a blade, and lunged at him.

Shit.

Thanos grabbed the blade, broke it off, and plunged it straight through Tony.  A scream caught in her throat.  She knew he would be ok, she’d seen it before.  But it didn’t matter.  This felt too real.  Seeing the blade protrude from his back was too real.  The shock on his face was too real.  She began scrambling to him, tuning everything out, trying to go unnoticed as Thanos backed away from him.

“Stop,” she could hear the pain, the struggle in Stephen’s voice.

She froze, her heart clenched in her chest.

“Spare his life, and I will give you the stone.”

With Thanos’ attention fully on Stephen, she ran to Tony, coming to kneel in front of him as Thanos added the Time Stone to the gauntlet.  She turned her head, watched Thanos leave through a clouded portal, then brought her attention fully to Tony.  His fingers brushed across her cheek, pain and confusion in his eyes.

“What’re you doing here?”

“It’s ok…” her breath hitched.  “You’re gonna be ok… I’ve--I’ve seen it.  I’ve seen it.”  She tried to smile as she pressed a hand to his face, watching tears well in his deep brown eyes.

“No,” his breaths were getting shallow.  “Not this version.”

Panic spread across her face and she shook her head in small rapid gestures.

“No, no, there’s no other version, Tony, you’re going to be ok, use the suit.”

“What suit?” he asked, bewildered.

She looked down to see him wearing the jeans and shirt she’d last seen him wearing when she was awake.

“Why don’t you have your suit?  Where’s your suit…”  She looked up to see the light leaving his eyes.  “Where’s your suit?!” she shouted.  She kept looking into his fading eyes.  “Stephen!  Help him!”  She turned to look in Stephen’s direction, but he wasn’t there.  “Stephen?!”

Who else?

She stood up, searching wildly for anyone.

“Peter!  Peter?!”

She spun around, frantic.

“Quill?!  Somebody!  Help him!”

I see bad times today…

The world was closing in on her.  She dropped back to her knees, hands on Tony’s face, trying to make him look at her.

“Tony, please, this doesn’t happen here, please,” she sobbed.

“You’ll have to choose, darling…” the voice whispered in her ear.

“I won’t!” she shouted.

“Do you like the changes I’ve made?”

She shook her head violently, burying her head in the crook of Tony’s neck, freezing when his head slumped over.  Her breaths were sticking in her chest.  He was supposed to be ok.  This doesn’t happen here…

“You’ve become a tad predictable, if I may say as much.”

She felt a hand on her head and knew right away that it wasn’t Tony’s.  She was trembling, shaking.

“And you’ve got so much material for me to play with.”

His laughter began softly, mellifluous as always, ringing in her ears as it grew louder, enveloping her.

She startled awake, sitting straight up in the chair she’d fallen asleep in, Tony still on his knees between hers, a hand resting on the outside of each of her thighs.  He looked up at her, just as shocked as she was.  She took a deep breath, gasping like it was the first fresh air that had ever filled her lungs.  She threw her arms out to the side, trying to regain her balance.  She continued to gasp, her body adjusting from the planet it thought she had just been on.

“That was… different,” he said, looking to her for confirmation.

Evelyn reached her hands out, touching his face gently, looking for the light in his eyes, reassuring herself that he was there, he was ok.

“It was,” she said quietly as she nodded, the movement nearly imperceptible.

“C’mere,” he said, gently pulling her down to sit next to him on the floor.  “A new nightmare?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

“Yeah… How--how much do you know?”

“Well,” he laid his head on hers, “it was all new.  There were new names, and ones I’ve never heard you call out before.  And,” he kissed her head, then laid his head back down.  “I didn’t have my suit.”

“But you did,” she whispered.  “You did, and then it was gone.”  She looked up at him.  “He took your suit, so you couldn’t…”  She swallowed hard.  “Things were different--because he took your suit.”

He looked into her bloodshot eyes, rimmed with red, shadowed by deep circles.  “He can’t take my suit now.  I promise.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Indicted.”

Working on a new arc for the story. I hope you enjoy :)

Dr Krill was up late, but then again, he was usually up late. Unlike the humans he didn’t sleep, and that left him at least eight hours of the day to himself to be engrossed in his studies, a time which he cherished. Granted there were occasions when emergencies would happen and he would be forced to attend to them, but those were few and far between these days.

Ever since the Burg war had ended, there hadn’t been much danger to the galaxy, and the Omen spent most of its time fulfilling its exploratory duties.

He spent a good portion of his time hunkered in the back office of the medical bay, but on occasion he'd like to take walks around the ship at night comforted by the darkness. The days had long since past when he was afraid of the humans, and he actually found the ship to be comforting and safe during the night. Granted Conn was sometimes a nuisance, but nothing that he couldn’t handle generally.

He was just walking past the command deck when he heard footsteps on their way down the hall.

He assumed it was one of the night crew coming down from fixing a problem up on the bridge, but was surprised when light passed over a familiar face. The two of them stopped staring at each other.

Admiral Vir paused in the hallway a duffel bag in one hand, his neatly pressed uniform glittering dimly in the light above. A few colorful swatches on the left hand side of his chest was the only color that distinguished him in the middling darkness.

Waffles -- the dog -- sat quietly at his side, panting softly. 

“Admiral….”

“Doctor…”

“Going somewhere?”

Krill watched as the man’s fingers curled slowly around the bag, “I have some… business to attend to back on earth.I already talked with Simon about it, and I am going to allow her to  take command of the ship while I am away.”

Krill took a long hard look at the human. 

There was something strange about him, something you could only understand if you were another human or if you had spent hours and hours studying them and spending time with then.

“Is something wrong?”

The man shook his head, though his single eye was… sad.

“No Krill, everything is fine.”

“Would you…. Like sme company?” he knew it was a longshot. If Adam really wanted some company, than surely he would already have asked Sunny to come with him.

The man opened his mouth, closed it and looked round. Krill was surprised that the man actually seemed to be considering his offer. Eventually he sighed, 

“I would…. Appreciate it…. Dr.”

Krill was surprised, but nodded and simply requested a few minutes to leave a note for Dr. katie. The Admiral willingly obliged the request, and efoe long they were on their way, stepping out of the cargo ramp and onto the -- mostly quiet-- cargo deck of the Europa station.

For the longest moment it was only the sound of feet echoing over the metal flooring before Krill finally had to speak up, “What is all of this about Adam, leaving secretly in the middle of the night, leaving your ship in the hands of a rookie officer… not telling Sunny. I think you can see why I am worried.”

Admiral Vir sighed and then inclined his head, the gold threading on the top of his officer’s cap glittering in the dim overhead light.

“There is something I need to do… and I don’t think Sunny would understand. I also don’t think that it would be a  good idea to bring her.

Krill tilted his head in curiosity and concern, “Are you two ok?”

Adam shrugged and sighed, “I…. well…. I don’t know. Most times it feels like we are, and at other times we just…. Aren’t. I think that is supposed to be normal, but there are things about each other that we just don’t understand sometimes.”

“That would make sense considering your species.”

He shrugged, “I guess. Either way I needed to do this myself, and I… needed a break…. That sounds horrible, and now how I meant it but I…. well whatever.”

The two of them walked down the nearest hallway to the launch bay on the other side of the hall. It was a little more crowded here, mostly officers and other crew members with their suitcases and bags, wearing their uniforms and standing in line to board a smaller ship. The ship would be a class D-1 ship with a small warp core on board.

As he approached, eyes fell on them as they usually did. Men and women in uniform saluted and parted ways to allow the two of them to pass as they made their way towards the shuttle. The Admiral refused to head to the front and stopped at the back of the line to wait patiently. No one spoke to them, but there sure were plenty of staring eyes.

The admiral handed his bag off to one of the cargo officers before boarding the ship with Krill. Waffles was taken with them too, and placed into a crate. She didn’t seem pleased about it but went willingly. It was likely that she was going to have to be put to sleep for the warp, which Krill almost envied. It was a cramped fit, though due to his status, they were allowed to sit in the roomier seats at the front. Bright lights beamed down on them from above as the pilot came over the intercom preparing them for warp.

“Thank you for boarding the trans-space flight to Lunar 1. Our approximate flight time will be ten minutes arriving at 12:45 local time. Please make sure to fasten your seatbelts. Officers and passengers with cardiac dysfunctions, lung disease, or high blood pressure are advised against taking this flight. If you fit into any of these categories please let a flight officer know for your safety and comfort. To the front of your seat you will find airsickness bags, and a safety card. Please take a few minutes to review the safety card before the launch.”

Admiral vir pulled the straps tight over his shoulders and pulled off his cap to rest it gently in his lap.

On the other row beside them another officer already had their eyes closed and was taking a few long-deep breaths.

“One last warning before launch, we will warn you that this is a D-1 Class warp core and does not have any internal dampening. Side effects of launch include, vomiting, dizziness, confusion, blackout, loss of bladder control and heart palpitations. These side effects are expected and the cabin has been designed to deal with these issues, however if you do not feel comfortable continuing we advise you to exit the aircraft immediately.”

Adam leaned back in his seat eyes shut.

Krill gripped the harness waiting for the moment to come.

Adam almost looked peaceful. No one got off the ship and after a few more minutes of waiting, the cabin lights dimmed and the ship rose into the air. As soon as they were shot out of the airlock, the gravity field was gone, and he could feel his body beginning to float against the harnesses. Admiral Vir had to hold his hat in palace as they accelerated into the night.

They traveled for a good five minutes before warning lights began blinking overhead.

“Prepare the cabin for warp.”

All around him the humans were preparing themselves for the violent folding of space. A few leaned down to tuck their head between their knees in a crash position.

He sort of wish he hadn’t agreed to come.

Adam just took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat.

“Launch in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.”

Krill fet the universe around him collapse inward and then suddenly expand outward. Things that were far away seemed close and things that were close seemed far away. He jerked against his harness, and just like that it was over.

That didn’t mean his head wasn’t spinning, and all around the cabin he could hear the  groaning of the other humans.

Once he could finally see and tell what he was seeing, he looked over at the Admiral who looked none the worse for war in comparison to some of the other officers.

One poor woman was as white as a sheet and holding a bag in front of her for dear life. Some of the others were in similar states of distress.

Admiral vir just smiled and leaned over to Krill whispering, “Not nearly as bad as the first interstellar warp. I thought I was going to die.”

Krill believed him

Just outside the window they watched as the Earth’s single moon drifted closer and closer, growing large in their field of vision as they stopped to land on the glowing white lunar surface. They disembarked inside the atmospheric bubble and were ushered onto another shuttle that headed down for earth. Despite earth being closer, this trip took much longer, about an hour longer, warping past the worst of the debris field which was still being cleaned by drag ship.

They landed at two in the morning local time at Fort Harmony.

As they stepped off the shuttle, bags in tow, there were already two military men waiting for them on the platform with a mat black hover car. Waffles’s crate was rolled out with them, though it seemed as if she was still asleep. 

They saluted as he approached, “Admiral.”

He nodded to them, “Gentlemen.”

One of them opened the car door, and the Admiral stepped inside, while the other took his bag to place it in the back.

Krill floated up to sit beside him watching as the vehicle slowly accelerated and rolled through the darkness, lights of the nearby city and civilization glowing in the darkness. Streetlights passed overhead, casting the human’s brooding face into sharp relief one moment and into almost complete blackness the next.

“Are you going to tell me where we are going?” krill wondered 

The admiral didn’t look at him, instead looking down at his hands. There was a long pause where Krill thought he wasn't going to answer, before, “I got a call from Admiral Kelly last night.”

Krill waited.

“Last month, extend documents on Operation Steel Eye were leaked. The UNSC tried to declassify them before it became more of an issue, but by then it was too late. The files were leaked onto the web by some unknown source and that included all video, Audio and written footage of the testing as well as documentation from the war itself.” Krill was surprised, extremely surprised that he had not heard more about this, and sooner,, but he stayed quiet as Adam continued, “UNSC officers in term during the project and a few members of the Steel eye team are being indicted on counts of torture, massive ethical violations, and potentially, war crimes… I was asked to be a witness at the trail of The People Vs The United Nations Space Corpse.”

Krill stared at him in shocked silence, “You,.... what?” He looked away, “Why didn’t you tell anyone, why didn’t you speak with someone!”

He sighed and leaned back in his seat, “What was I supposed to say? Hey everyone, the people who almost ruined my life are being put on trial and I am in need of some serious moral support because I expect I may have to watch some of it over again, and I don’t think I am ready for it.” His hands clenched in his lap, and krill saw. He looked back at the back seat to where waffles was still sleeping in her kennel.

Adam took a couple of deep breaths, “I have come as far as anyone can be expected when it comes to recovering from what happened to us, but that shadow, these scars will NEVER be gone. I’ll always have dreams. I will always wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat just remembering what happened to me. I will always hear the hissing of those machines in the back of my head. And I will always have some sick and twisted need to put the suit back on again because not once in my entire life since then have I ever felt so powerful…. Some days it feels like the only thing I have that can protect everyone, like putting it on will make me invincible, even though I know that logic is flawed. I hate it more than anything at the same time that I NEED it.”

Krill paused looking down at his arms and hands, “And that is why you got the Iron eye implants.”

He nodded and sighed, “Yes, yes it is.”

Krill didn’t know what to say, so they drove in silence.

“WHere are we going then.”

“We are heading up to one of the rehabilitation facilities between Arlington and the Ruins at Capital hill. From there we are going to be shipped over to Geneva where the trail is going to be held.”

“A rehabilitation facility…. For who?”

He looked down at his feet, “You’ll see.”

The nit went silent and krill was forced to wait in the darkness with light zipping by the windows as they headed into the night. The Admiral fell asleep during this time at some point with his cheek pressed against the cool glass of the window, his ribbons still glittering in the darkness. A soft whimpering came from the back of the car, and Krill took some time to let Waffles out of her cage, pressing himself up against the door as she crawled over the seat and sat between them curling up in a tight ball with her head resting on her master’s knee. 

Adam seemed to relax in their sleep.

Krill watched out the window and took some time to think as the trees spd by in a dark blur. At one point it began to rain, and he tried not to think about the water pelting down on them from the sky above to obscure their vision.

Outside the sky lightened though the day was cloudy.

Adam awoke groggy and despondent, unusually quiet and unresponsive in comparison to his usually cheerful self.

They continued to drive in the silence, the only sound being the occasional whimper from the dog who sighed deeply, and stood to move to manuver into a more comfortable position. It was well into early morning by the time they made it to their next location, and their shadows were cast long and low across the ground.

Their vehicle was ushered through a large metal gate and onto the lawn of a restored Victorian mansion. Admiral Vir shifted uncomfortably as they pulled up the gravel drive and stopped before the wide porch and its white painted support pillars.

The door opened for them, and the Admiral stepped out with Waffles leaping onto the gravel behind him, taking a few moments to sniff around at the grass and the bushes.

Admiral Vir straightened his uniform and pulled on his cap as Krill floated out to join him.

A man was waiting for them on the porch and walked down the stairs to greet them with an open hand and a wide smile.

He was a small human, a bit older with greying hair and a nice suit. He clasped hands with the admiral and looked him over with a critical eye.

“A pleasure to meet you Admiral.”

“And you as well doctor.”

The man took a step back eying up the admiral as he did. Adam shifted uncomfortably, “Forvie my scrutiny, admiral.” The man said a bit sheepishly, “I have been working with the steel eye veterans for so long, and you are….. The first I have seen in such good condition.”

Adam tugged at the collar of his shirt in mild embarrassment, “Uh, I suppose I am extraordinarily lucky, doctor.”

The man held out a hand and motioned to the door, “Please come inside, there is much to show you, and the others have been expecting your arrival.”

He turned to look at Krill then and smiled,”Dr. Krill I assume?”

Krill was more than a little surprised to hear his own name spoken, “Have we met.”

The man laughed, “No, no, but I am familiar with your work. It is so interesting to see how other species view humans. I find it enlightening and entertaining.” The big white doors opened before the, and together they stepped into a large room with a spiraling staircase and a bustling room crumbs wearing attendants.

Somewhere in the distance, they could hear the sound of a piano playing.

“Welcome to Machinaw Hall, sounds a little more pleasant than the UNSC sponsored state rehabilitation facility.”

“Less of a mouthful for sure.” Adam responded.

The man waved a hand about the room, “I started all this about three years ago when my Nephew died during the steel eye operation of meningitis.”

“I...I’m sorry to hear that.”

The man sighed, “My family was obviously devastated, and I couldn't let it go, so I thought there was something I could do. At that time my wife and I flipped houses on the side and we came in possession of this old rundown Victorian. It's already been refurbished a couple of times since it was originally built. It was in such disrepair that no one wanted it, but I bought it for cheep and renovated it, and then set it up for other members of that same group. Unfortunately things were not completed until a few years after the incident, and it took us a while to find those who remained from participation in the trials and… well as well as from the war itself.” He sighed, “I only wish I had started this sooner. Who knows, we may have been acquainted earlier in that case.”

Krill watched Adam’s expression from the corner of his eye. He knew how the man felt about these sort of facilities.

“Perhaps. But what’s past is past.”

“True.”

They made their way up a checkered hallway and through a large doorway into a sunny and spacious living room. Despite how old the house was, the furniture was all well kept and in good condition. The people on the other hand were… less so.”

One or two of them were sitting on the floor in the sunny day room rocking quietly back and forth. Others sat on chairs or sofas with grim expressions on their face, and only one or two managed to appear as functioning humans.

One of them was playing the grand piano in the back.

As soon as he stepped in the room went mostly quiet, even the ones sitting on the floor looked up, and with surprise their eyes widened and they smiled. More than a few came over to meet him reaching out their hands and clasping his with firm grips.

“Admiral Vir!”

“Admiral, so good to see you.”

“You look well.”

“Glad you could make it.”

He smiled easily despite his unease, “Thank you. Glad to see you all up and about.”

“Mostly functional.” one of them piped up.”

Looking around Krill noticed the tell-tale hitch in their steps, and even the glittering of silvered metal on a robotic arm.

“Adam!”

The two of them turned quickly and krill was surprised to find a dark haired young woman appear from up the stairs jogging down and throwing her arms around him hugging him tight. He had to step back at the force of her greeting but hugged her bak with some shock and pleasure, “Jane!” He stepped back beaming, “You look good…. I’m a little surprised to see you.”

“Well after the… incident, I was able to get in contact with some people who pointed me to this place. The Doctor was kind enough to let me stay while I get back on my feet.”

He sat dow, offered a chair by one of the other steel eye members, and they sat around him.

He rubbed Waffle’s ears and let her off leash, giving her permission to go around the circle sniffing at hands and arms that were offered towards her.

Eventually she took a seat next to one of the soldiers sitting on the ground, and shoved her head into his space forcing him to pet her. A smile cracked over his face fr the first time since they had arrived .

“And getting bacon on your feet, how is that going.”

She sighed, “ I have found some temporary work at a mechanic shop, though its only temporary until I can find something that I really want to do.” She glanced at him with a look of guilt on her face, “I can’t go back to the UNSC not after….”

He nodded quickly in understanding, “I get it.” One of the other soldiers looked at him, his mouth turning down into a frown, “How could YOU go back to them after everything they did.”

The Dr. Scooted closer over the floor and rested a hand on the man’s shoulder in a warning sort of manner.

He relaxed a bit, but the anger was still plain on his face.

Adam kept his face still and neutral, “Some people say I’m a little too forgiving. But honestly, they gave me a spaceship which, all things considered, is good enough compensation for me.” 

A few of the people in the room laughed, others didn’t seem so satisfied with that answer but let it go.”

“So…. are you ready?” Jane wondered

Adam tilted his head up slightly.

One of the men leaned forward, “Ready, for what?”

Another hand on his shoulder, “Admiral Vir is going to be representing you all during the upcoming trial.”

A few of the group members frowned, ‘Wait, I thought we were all going to testify as witnesses.”

The doctor sighed, “We have gone through this before, not everyone is ready for something like that, but Admiral Vir has graciously offered to help and be the representative.”

“I am not having a UNSC lover represent me at the trail! He’s going to try and get them off easy.”

Krill scooted to the side a little watching as a sharp light flared in the man’s eyes, “You better watch-your-tongue BOY!’

The room went very silent.

“You act like I didn’t go through the exact same thing as you. Well tell you what I remember choking on the ash as my blood seeped into the moss, and I remember the pain, and I remember wishing I could just die, and afterwards, I remembered months and months of hopelessness wondering when it would all be over. I remember the drug withdrawls. YES i chose to go back, but that's because I am rational enough to realise that most people in the UNSC had no idea what was going on, and the people who ran things back then are either retired, pending investigation or already in prison.” He leaned forward in his seat, “So go ahead, question my motives one more time.”

The room was very silent, and the man who had first spoken up sat back in his seat sulkily.”

Someone cleared their throat in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

“So what are the rest of us going to do.”

“ I am putting something together with the courts, and will be using interviews from you as evidence with your permission. I think that that will be more constructive. Admiral Vir will be there as a live witness, and due to his status, his testimony is likely to have the kind of pull we need to convict.”

There was a murmur of approval around the group.

“That makes sense, I guess.”

“Plus as a member of the UNSC himself the testimony will be more accepted especially considering his track record. Furthermore, he also has the most experience speaking in public and we want to make as good an impression as we can.”

The room was quiet now as the group thought about the points the doctor was making.

A hand reached across the circle, and he looked down to See Jan’s hand resting on his shoulder, “Are you sure you can do this…. I… Well I don’t know if I could were I in your shoes.”

He sighed, “It won’t be easy, but someone has to do it, and as of right  now, I am about as operational as we are going to get.”

There was nodding from around the room.

This was going to have to do 

[cassiecasyl]

to be or not to be hugged

prompts: whumpay day 2: touch starved/touch repulsed + day 11: don’t touch me/don’t leave me

tw: panic attacks, nightmares 

credit for the title goes to @official-wayward-fairchild <3

read on ao3! 

Peter knew something was wrong. He was reminded of it everytime someone hugged him, hell, he was reminded every night. It was in the way his mouth filled with this ashen taste that’s just a little too close to the rusty dust of Titan whenever someone hugged him. The touch infected him with dread and panic, with screams and battle sounds, with memories. His spider senses yelled at him in precaution and Peter tensed everytime, even though he knew that there wasn’t anything to be scared of. He was just overreacting. 

The first time it happened, he’d almost pushed May into a wall, had almost hurt her. He’d apologized profusely, his hands shaking, guilt rushing through his veins, but May had laughed it off. Yet, the worried glance she’d sent haunted him. 

Worst of all were the flashes—when a simple touch brought him back to Titan, more powerful than Dr. Strange’s portals could ever be, and he’s fading into dust, again and again, and Tony looked so broken and as scared as he was (though they’d both tried and failed to hide it), and he’s begging for his life, for Mr. Stark to fix this like he always did—I don’t wanna go—while at the same time, he’s in the supposedly safe arms of a loved one. It was twisted torture in its on way, and Peter couldn’t help but be reminded of one of the stories Loki had told about the time he had been under Thanos’s regime. 

They’d promised him might like he deserved, promised him everything he ever dreamed off, and then mixed it with obedience. Suspected him to pain and fire, sometimes ouf of fun—Loki said he got that—and sometimes framed as a test. His already shattered mind had been broken once more. There was a sense of belonging there, with the false love they gave him and the chaos they promised. The mind stone deconstructed and built him up again. Chaos was his element more than ever. 

Maybe, he was being tested too, Peter mused. He died, after all, and now he wasn’t sure whether he still belonged into this world, with everybody finding someone new and moving on. May had Happy, Tony had Morgan and Harley, even Ned and MJ felt aeons away. No. Peter chided himself for ever taking this analogy. His misery was nowhere close to Loki’s agony. 

Yet, Peter was living a paradox. 

He stopped hugging. It hurt too much and had the tendency to rip him from reality, so he just stopped. There’s a few raised eyebrows and concerned looks at first, but they eventually succumbed to normalcy. 

“Would you like to notify Boss or try any of the 173 tactics of falling asleep I've collected, Peter?” Friday asked for what must’ve been the upteenth time, shocking him out of his thoughts. He shook his head in a sigh. 

“No, Friday. I’m fine,” he answered, lamenting his dismissive tone. She just wanted to help, there was no need to be so rude to her. “Sorry,” he mumbled. The word got half-caught up in a yawn, and he wanted to kick himself for it. 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t tired. Peter knew it was late, and even his bones felt heavy with exhaustion, but he just couldn’t sleep. Not while he was at the Tower. He’d been successful in hiding his nightmares from May, but there was no way he’d be able to do so with Tony. Least of all when he had a perceptive AI on his side. Scratch that, two perceptive AIs. He’d almost forgotten about Karen, but he knew if he asked her for company, she’d eventually report him to Tony. Sleepy Spider Baby Protocol, or however it was called. 

Peter sighed. He was so tired. He just wanted to feel safe.  

~~~

Red sand tickled his throat, and the wind began nibbling at his feet as he stumbled forward. Soon, he’d join the sand, dust to dust, like it had happened countless times before. At this point, he was more scared than confused. He knew what would happen. He just didn’t know why. 

Peter looked up, his eyes scanning the battle field for his mentor. He had to be here somewhere. He always was. In panic, he turned around, ignoring how his toes disintegrated with the movement. Had he died? It happened before. Thanos’s stab always seemed worse in his dreams. But he couldn’t even find a body on the ground. He was all alone. Did he leave him? Did the wind already take them away, leaving him to die alone? He choked on a sob. 

“Peter?” A voice asked behind him, scared and tentative. Tony. The teen spun around, and more fell than ran towards him. The man was perched on the ground, holding his guts together. He was crying. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whispered in a plea. Tony looked up at him, but he was looking right through him, as if he was already mourning. His features aged momentarily, his hair turning grey and wrinkles closing in on pained eyes. A quiet, hopeful and sad smile adorned his face, the same one with which he sometimes watched Morgan. Peter could feel himself fading. 

The boy crumbled before Tony, reaching out to him in a desperate cry for comfort. “I’m sorry,” he said, right before his vocal cords left him. At the last moment, Tony’s fingers grazed his, and in horror Peter watched as the dusting didn’t stop with him, but extended to Tony, moved up his right arm and eventually his face. 

Peter lost his eyes before it was over. 

He woke up with a start, eyes wide but unseeing. They were still gone, dusted, he’d be dead again, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. The air escaped him between sobs and panic. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, breathe, Peter, I’m here, it’s alright.” Suddenly, there was comfort. Peter blinked, and instead of complete darkness, shadows started to emerge. 

“Tony?” he asked, hope tearing through his throat. 

“I’m here, kid,” he promised. It was all the invitation Peter needed, and he shot forward, latching onto the older man. He breathed in the scent of motor oil and iron that never quite left Tony, and he was home. His heart beat faster than normal, but it beat, sometimes stumbling in a familiar way, and that was all that mattered. Tony was here. For the first time in a long while, his spider senses remained quiet. They were safe. 

“Shh, it’s okay, kid,” Tony shushed him, gently rocking them as they sat on Peter’s bed. “I’m here,”—Peter tightened his grip at the words—”I’m alive, we’re both alive. We’re in your room at the Tower and it’s 4:14 am on a Saturday morning. It’s raining lightly outside, can you hear that, Pete?” 

The spider stilled, focusing his senses on the weather outside. He panicked slightly as Tony’s heartbeat quietened, but his hand fisted around the hem of Tony’s shirt, and Tony’s constant assurances of it’s alright grounded him. Soon, his ears picked up the light pitter-pattern of rain. Peter nodded. 

“Good!” Tony praised as if he’d just done the most amazing thing in the world. Without him noticing, his breathing had calmed. The air wasn’t evading him as it was before. Tony’s arms around him were warm and safe and Peter sighed in content. He missed this. God, how he’d missed this. 

Tony’s hand found his, the one that was hanging onto the neck of his shirt, and covered it. Peter’s eyes widened as he remembered a flash from his dream. No. He couldn’t infect Tony. He couldn’t let him die, not again. Never. Peter coiled away from the touch suddenly and violently, ragged breaths returning. There was already dust in his lungs. No. 

Tony followed him, but Peter fell to the ground as he hastily retreated, leaving his mentor standing there with raised hands signaling that it was alright. It wasn’t though. He’d infect him, and the dust would find him again, travel up his arm, take him away. It was in his name after all, wasn’t it? He petered out, faded gradually until there was nothing left, until his existence came to an end. He couldn’t spread that to Tony. 

“Peter?” The man crouched down before him, slowly as if he was a scared animal. Peter shook his head. “What’s wrong, buddy?” he asked, hands reaching out. 

“Don’t,” Peter pleaded, recoiling from his mentor’s safe hands. Oh, how he craved their warm embrace. But he couldn’t. He’d kill him. “Please don’t,” he cried, “I’ll infect you.” 

“Okay,” Tony breathed, “okay. Infect me with what?” 

“Dust,” Peter answered with a hiccup. At Tony’s puzzled expression, he elaborated: “I’m dust, and it’s gonna spread to you. It’s in my name.” 

“Oh, kid.” Peter could practically see how a part broke away from Tony’s heart and fell down. That’s how it started, he thought, reminding himself of videos he’d seen of mountains eroding under water. “You’re not dust, not anymore,” he said, searching the room for something, “I brought you back, remember? I wouldn’t bring you back half-baked, Peter. All or nothing, that’s the deal.” 

The kid nodded, still watching him with big eyes. He mustered the veins of scar tissue raking up his right cheek, and suddenly his dream made sense in a different way. Still, he wouldn’t wanna test it. He couldn’t kill Tony too. He wasn’t worth two of his father figures dying, let alone three. 

Tony stood up and fear gripped Peter. He had enough of him. He’d realized the threat he was and would get himself to safety now. Only, that meant he’d leave Peter behind. “I’m not leaving, Pete,” Tony promised against his anxiety spouting lies, “I’m just getting something. See? I’m not even leaving the room.” He held up the water bottle Peter always kept on his bedside table to show him. 

He came back. Peter almost wanted to smile, but his dust-infected body was way too numb to do anything but watch. “Now, could you stretch your arm out for me?” Tony asked. Peter sucked in a panicked breath. “I’m not gonna touch you, I promise.” Slowly, Peter nodded. 

Cold water touched his skin as soon as he did what Tony asked of him, shocking him back into reality. “See?” the genius asked, “You’re solid. No dust here.” Peter nodded, blinking and staring at his hand, wet and still in one place. He looked up at Tony, who was smiling assuringly. 

“Solid,” Peter repeated, the remains of the nightmare slowly leaving his body. “I’m solid,” he laughed. 

“That’s right, Pete,” Tony praised, his hands switching towards him. He still slightly shied away from the possibility of touch though. His mentor fixed him with that concerned gaze, the one with which he could read him like no other, that implied that he was trying to figure out what bothered Peter. 

“Can I hug you?” he asked. Peter shook his head. It was tempting, but he wasn’t sure whether he was ready for that yet. 

“Rather not. Sorry.” Tony nodded, quickly hiding the sadness. 

“That’s alright. Thank you for telling me.” He stood up, mindlessly extending his arm to help Peter up, but then taking it back with a scolding shake of his head. Peter chuckled. “Sorry, didn’t think. So, anything else you wanna do? Catch some sleep, watch a movie?”—he glanced at the time—”Oh, what about a hot chocolate? Rhodey should be up by now ‘cause he has an early meeting or something, and he makes the best hot chocolate in the Tower.” 

Peter stood up with a laugh. “Hot chocolate sounds great.” 

“Hot chocolate it is then,” Tony confirmed with a warm smile.  “Friday, warn Rhodey if he’s awake, we’ve got a spider baby to pamper.” He left the room before Peter could object, and Peter quickly followed him. 

tag list: (let me know if you wanna be added/removed!)

@starrynightdeancas @spookyscarykittycat @sherlock-who-mentalist @lost-lunar-wolf @aixabi

[atinytokki]

Paradise

vi. Bad Habit 

“You be good now, son,” were Father’s parting words. “Listen to your grandparents. I’ll see you as soon as I can get away.”

He had already said his goodbyes to Haneul, who was locked away in her bedroom, sick.

With the end of Father’s visit came school, and while San had enjoyed meeting his peers and flying through his course work last year, he was afraid it would be too easy for him this time.

Days spent inside gazing forlornly out windows while someone else told him things he already knew sounded less adventurous than they always made it out to be. And it sounded a lot like Haneul’s current state of existence; a prisoner.

Over the remainder of summer she had worsened and worsened. There was no evidence of this other than her decreasing time spent out in the world and Dr. Hong’s increasing time spent at their cottage.

He had met with Father last night, on the eve of his departure, apologising about taxes and prices and other things San didn’t understand. What he did understand was that Haneul now needed a medicine more expensive than they could afford.

“You’ll do as you’re told, right?” Father nudged as he began to pull away from a tight hug. “They really need you now.”

San could only nod weakly and relinquish his grip on his father as he stepped up to the front seat of the cart and let Grandfather drive on in the direction of the western docks. He would work ceaselessly when he arrived at home, every extra coin sent to Namhae for Haneul’s sake.

Managing household affairs was supposed to be a distant future for San, but already as he stood in the ocean and watched the sunrise, he could feel it creeping up.

He couldn’t be sure whether anything Dr. Hong had done was working or not, and Haneul didn’t seem keen to tell him.

San had fed her, administered every type of medicine they had in the cabinets, sung to her, read to her, played half a game of cards with her, and still nothing was bringing her out of her darkened mood.

Playing cards against someone who would rather stare out the window wasn’t the most fulfilling.

“Is something out there?” A high-pitched voice interrupted his musings. Little Inho had approached, school bag slung over his shoulder, likely expecting San to walk him to school. It was his first year and he was very excited.

“No, no,” he answered in a rush. “Just my imagination. You’re early.”

San’s observation changed the topic swiftly, and Inho went on to explain why he had come at the crack of dawn. “The garrison is finished! Don’t you want to go see it?”

“Are you sure?” San snorted, adjusting his own school bag and beginning the walk into town. The last thing he wanted was for some construction accident to befall the clumsy boy and become his responsibility.

“Yes, the officers who will attend it have already moved in,” Inho told him confidently, leading the way past shops and vendors to the site which had earlier been the source of constant noise and disruption.

“Woah,” San breathed when he laid eyes on it. It was no mere naval building, but an entire complex built near the town hall, complete with a jailhouse, offices, armoury, and some strange sort of display at the front that San couldn’t put a name to.

“Oh, the stocks and the whipping post,” Inho supplied easily when he asked. “Haven’t you heard of it? That’s where the criminal goes.”

“I thought criminals went to jail… or to the noose,” San muttered uncomfortably. They hadn’t been showcased for the town to see in strange torture devices, but then again, San had lived in a small town.

“But sometimes they go to the stocks or the whipping post,” Inho told him matter-of-factly, even as he stumbled over the long words. “To be publicly shamed.”

“Do you think there will be many criminals there?” San asked, not sure who he was addressing his question to, or why he was even asking.

Inho could do no more than shrug and skip away in the direction of the schoolhouse, sending San hurrying after him.

Considering how smart Inho was, San had no worries about his performance in class, so he turned his thoughts to his own situation.

Other than the several new students— children of naval officers moving in, according to the morning announcements— nothing much had changed.

There were more arithmetic problems to solve, more scientific experiments to conduct, and more ancient tragedies that hit too close to home to read.

Due to Haneul’s absence, the schoolmaster sent books home on San’s back for her to read, and even when he tried reading them to her she didn’t become conscious enough to show signs of paying attention.

It seemed like she was getting worse and worse and their relationship was following suit.

The wind fluttered the curtains of his bedroom where San watched birds fly out to sea and wished he could follow.

For the evening it was just him and Haneul while their grandparents went on an evening walk along the beach.

It was the first of many evenings like that, where Haneul stayed in her room and San in his, alone save for his imagination, his books, and the small wooden pirate ship he had whittled in secret.

Regardless of the new boys he sometimes played with, San felt less and less connected as he entered his teenage years. As excited as he had been about Namhae when he arrived as a child, it no longer seemed that he belonged. That he had ever belonged in the first place.

Surrounded by the ocean, the very symbol of freedom, life was nonetheless monotonous and restricting. School was followed by work in the carpentry shop and then sitting in silence by Haneul’s bedside, watching his grandparents leave for their walk, and if he was lucky enough, sneaking out to play with his new friends along the beach at night.

Without really realising it, he was acting out the way he did as a small child when life was frustrating. San was a man of action, and if there was nothing to be done, he resorted to desperate but futile acts in a disturbed mood.

On one such winter evening the year he turned fourteen, his grandparents returned early from a shorter beach walk, hands held the whole time, to see San hurriedly putting the carpentry shop back together after some rowdiness with the officers’ children.

Neither of them spoke, and Grandmother simply padded upstairs to let her husband deal with the problem.

“Is anything broken?” He eventually asked a silent San, who quickly shook his head and continued putting chairs upright and tools back on the bench. “What exactly did you boys do in here?”

San exhaled through his nose before admitting, “We were studying at first but some of them brought die and cards so we ended up playing…”

“And drinking?” Grandfather finished for him, voice unchanged though there was disappointment in his eyes.

“No,” San lied smoothly. “Some of the older boys did, but—”

“But this is how you spend your evenings?” The older man cut to the heart of the matter, settling into his chair while a long pause unfolded in the wake of his question.

Maybe it was the effects of the rice wine but as soon as San opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop.

“I’ve been to probably every place on this whole island. I know everyone who lives here. If this is how I spend my evenings it’s because there’s nothing else to do. Haneul is upstairs dying and no one cares, not even Dr. Hong. Do you know it’s been six months since he recommended a new medicine? The one I feed her every day does nothing. The money Father sends from the mainland does nothing. All the books I read in school, and all the furniture we sell in the shop, and all the friends I make do nothing, Grandfather. Maybe if you would just fix up the sailboat like you promised when we first came, maybe then I’d feel like I wasn’t so trapped on this island where every day is the same and nothing I do changes anything.”

Finally out of breath, he couldn’t bear Grandfather’s heartbroken eyes on him any longer and ran to his room.

As he cried into his pillow he tried to pinpoint the moment it had all gone wrong. His life wasn’t supposed to be like this.

The more he thought about it in his hazy, turbulent mind, the more he realised it had always been this way. And it was never going to change.

Morning brought the same gentle quiet of crashing waves and calling birds and the walk to school. San managed to avoid seeing his grandparents until school was done for the day, too guilty to know what to say to them if he did.

He and Grandfather worked in silence on a set of new sliding windows for Mr. Shim, and San was content to keep it that way, letting his actions speak with apology instead of his words.

But soon enough Grandfather opened his mouth.

“Your father hasn’t been sending money.”

San sat up from his work and furrowed his brows in confusion.

“It’s too dangerous,” Grandfather explained with a sigh. “Pirates and all. We wouldn’t want it to be stolen.”

Pirates were a variable none of them had accounted for. Although San’s friends always assured him the Royal Navy had them on the run, they were enough of a threat for trade to be severely impacted.

“Would you like to come on some of our evening walks?” Grandfather offered as they cleaned up and closed the shop. “That’s how your Grandmother and I deal with being powerless, and it might keep you out of trouble.”

The truth was, San did want to go. He had always wanted to tag along, because anything was better than watching Haneul toss and turn with pained moans, her clouded eyes far away from him and the seaside paradise their home used to be.

But he turned up his nose and faced away to hide his wet eyes. “No.”

Not if the only reason was to keep him out of trouble.

Life went on that afternoon and every afternoon following, with the issue dropped. San didn’t invite his friends over again, and only arranged to meet them at one of their houses or the beach.

Just before winter break, he went out one evening and nearly stumbled over the sailboat. Muttering to himself, he bent down to push it out of the way before the reason for its appearance dawned on him.

“It’s fixed!” He realised, eyes filling up with happy tears as he danced around the thing and quickly ran to Mr. Shim’s to knock on the door.

“Excuse me, sir!” He panted when the old ferryman opened it for him. “The boat— our boat— my grandfather finally fixed it! Can you, I mean would you, if it’s not an inconvenience, possibly be able to teach me how to sail it?”

Mr. Shim blinked at him for a moment before straightening and taking a glance at the setting sun. “I’ll send Jiyong to meet you in the square tomorrow afternoon?”

A slow smile spread on San’s face as he nodded his agreement and bowed respectfully several times over in thanks.

Tomorrow afternoon couldn’t come soon enough.

San flew through his schoolwork and brushed off his friends, begged Grandfather to let him off work early just this once and arrived in town’s central square right on time.

It was busier than usual by the garrison, and as San approached the crowd that had gathered he learned why.

Someone was chained to the whipping post, and an officer was flogging him right there for the whole island to see.

Wincing as a blow struck the man’s skin and left angry red blood trails behind, San wondered aloud who was being punished.

“A pirate,” Jiyong’s voice answered him as he drew up alongside the teenager, joining the crowd with his arms crossed to peer above heads and view the spectacle. “Not sure whose crew he belongs to, but he’s definitely one of the pirates they caught over the weekend.”

It was no disturbing occurrence, San reminded himself in an effort to keep from plugging his ears against the pirate’s cries. He had seen pirates before, almost been attacked by one in that cave on Dalhae.

He should be happy a pirate was getting his comeuppance.

“What’s going to happen to him?” San couldn’t help but ask when the man was unchained and dragged back into the prison, listless and painted in his own blood.

Jiyong let out an acknowledging hum before launching into an explanation.

“Well, you see, according to our laws here in Jaecho, when someone is caught with reasonable suspicion of being a pirate or of aiding a pirate, the navy can within its rights have them imprisoned, whipped, and whatever other interrogation tactics they use in there. But it’s not always a good idea to beat a suspected pirate, especially in public, should the claim be proven wrong and the accused demand reparations and public apologies. That would be… embarrassing.”

“I take it that situation has happened before,” San snorted.

Jiyong joined the laughter for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “A few times that I can think of.”

The sound of the door closing ominously behind the unlucky prisoner brought San’s attention back to the man’s fate. “Will he be executed?”

“Not unless he’s a proven pirate,” Jiyong rattled off instantly. “And to be one of those you must be either found guilty and sentenced to death by court, or marked with a pirate brand from a previous encounter, in which case the trial can be skipped.”

San went pale when it dawned on him why. There must be so many executions to get to that skipping the court process for several of them was necessary.

Jiyong continued, oblivious, “The branding is Admiral Kim’s tactic of keeping track of pirates that may slip through his fingers the first time he arrests them without enough evidence. If he catches them again, in the act of piracy or not, as long as he finds a brand he can have them hung and whatever else he pleases as soon as the schedule allows. And all the other pirates will see the corpse hung from the gibbet and beware.”

San shivered but spoke up as he caught on, “So since this man has been at the whipping post, there’s a high chance he really is a pirate, just an unbranded one?”

“Exactly. Or else we might’ve been watching his execution.”

Knowing that was a sight he would rather not try to stomach, San turned towards the harbour and Jiyong followed him.

“How do you know all this about courts and convictions anyway?” He asked the older man, who laughed and rubbed his neck bashfully.

“I study law when I’m not working,” Jiyong admitted, frowning when San seemed confused by the fact. “Did you think I was only going to work for Mr. Shim for the rest of my life?”

“But you’re his apprentice, you’re supposed to take over his business,” San reminded him matter-of-factly, crossing his arms in a way that probably looked a tad childish. After all, that was what Grandfather expected of him with regards to the carpentry shop.

“There’s no reason I can’t do both,” Jiyong insisted as the ocean came into view. “You don’t have to just take what you’re given in this world, ferrying passengers is fine but if there’s a chance to move up in status, I’d be a fool not to take it. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t taken up some bad habits.”

Clearly knowing too much, he accompanied his final remark with a wink and San found it necessary to change the subject to sailing before his behaviour was further exposed.

San got his first taste that day as Jiyong taught him everything he could possibly learn in a single afternoon about the handling of a small sailboat. And the following weekend he taught him everything else he could learn.

Grandfather had fixed the vessel for him in order to satiate his rebellious desires but, even as grateful as San was for his gift, the boat was quickly put to use for more unruly evenings.

He played hooky on and off for the rest of the school year, just enough to avoid being caught, and went out when he wasn’t permitted to. From his perspective it wasn’t as if he sailed into dangerous waters or endangered other passengers, and what Grandfather didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

For the time being it seemed he had no inkling. Haneul, on the other hand, did.

“Were you sailing?” The muttered question, barely louder than a whisper, interrupted his reading aloud.

San could only blink at her, surprised, as she gazed at him with her clear and piercing eyes, reflecting the candlelight by her bedside.

“You’re awake…” he breathed, stumbling to his feet in excitement. “Yes I was sailing, how did you know?”

Haneul’s expression didn’t change, but she glanced out the window and her eyes landed on the autumn moon. School had begun again after a scorching summer and San continued his nightly adventures unbeknownst to anyone else.

“You smell of the sea.”

San sat down again but closed the book and placed it on the table. Haneul hadn’t directly spoken to him in a couple of weeks, and even when she was coherent enough to do so, they never had much to talk about.

“Is it true you’re going to visit Father?” She asked quietly after a moment. It sounded like she wished she could come along.

San wasn’t sure how she even knew about those plans, considering the fact that he had only just asked Grandfather for permission that afternoon, but he nodded in answer and watched her face fall.

“I would bring you along but you’re still feeling ill and you don’t like sailing anyway and—”

“You need more attention than you’ve been getting,” she translated softly.

And, as usual, Haneul was correct but it embarrassed San to admit it.

“It’s just that I haven’t spent much time with him in the past few years.”

Because when he visits, he spends it with you, went unsaid.

“I’ll go over to Dr. Hong’s and ask if Eunkyung and Eunae can come visit you after school so you aren’t alone,” San offered when she didn’t reply.

The prospect brightened her mood for the rest of the evening, and as promised, San knocked on the neighbours’ door with his request before bed.

Eunkyung and Eunae had been too busy to manage more than a few afternoons at the Choi cottage, especially since there weren’t many games Haneul could participate in from the confines of her bed.

“How long will you be gone?” Inho asked with a pout as San slipped his shoes back on and prepared to go home, arrangements made.

“I’m not sure yet, maybe a week or so? You can survive walking to school without me for that long, right?”

Inho huffed but eventually agreed. “My noonas can take me. They’re boring compared to you, though.”

San couldn’t help but blush at the praise and gave the young boy an affectionate head pat before walking home and crawling into bed.

Perhaps it had been an exaggeration when he thought no one cared about him anymore. Sure, he often was alone and felt more like an outsider than ever, but he had Haneul, he had his grandparents, he had Inho and Jiyong and his friends at school, and most of all, he had sailing.

He dreamed about wind in his hair and sea grass bending over as if greeting a prince, the sky on fire with colour before him as he proceeded to his boat.

It was practically sailing itself across smooth and shining waves and San could sit back and feel the setting sun on skin.

He was where he belonged.

...

A/N: I have become swamped my school :< Been meaning to write this for some time, hopefully I’ll get a schedule underway but thanks for your patience, don’t forget to comment and motivate me lol and stay tuned ❤️

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[ampmiscfiles]

Let Us Love You: Chapter 9

Start From The Beginning

Sam checked in with FRIDAY before entering the elevator. Ever since his tentative...whatever....with Peter had started, he had been taking extra care to avoideveryonewhen leaving and reentering the tower whenever he saw him. While blockers kept an individual smells hidden from random  people, there had been cases of mates sometimes being able to pick up hints of each other's smells anyway. Since Sam was a beta, Peter's scent never meant anything to him, and he hadn't even smelt anything from him lately. Hoever, with two super soldiers with enhanced senses in the tower, Sam didn't want to chance the lack of scent just being him. He had made a promise to keep their interactions secret, and he intended to keep it.

The two were slowly getting to know each other. For Sam, everything about Peter was new, but for Peter, it more so a game of similarities and differences.

Sam would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying getting to know him. Peter was a genuinely good person, and if things every worked out between him and the others, he could be a valuable asset to the team.

The public sure seemed to love him.

Something that seemed to amuse Peter greatly for some odd reason.

Still, Sam avoided talking about his fellow teammates like the plague. He desperately wanted to ask more about Peter's past with the, rightfully dubbed, "Evil Avengers", but didn't want to overstep.

“Dr. Banner has entered the common area.” FRIDAY answered.

“Ok. Bruce is clear.” Sam replied.

Bruce was probably the only person in the tower he didn’t have to worry about. There was no way he’d pick up on Peter’s scent, nor would it even matter since he was a beta and not romantically interested in Peter.

Also, he was the only other person in the tower Peter seemed comfortable talking about.

Peter had held a lot of respect for the Bruce Banner of his world. So much so that Sam had taken up teasing him about being a Bruce Banner fan boy.

Interesting enough, Peter seemed to be an even bigger fan boy here.

The Bruce Banner of his world lost a lot of his freedoms and abilities to do research after the Avengers turned and trapped him, so eventually Peter had run out of research papers to read.

Here though, here Bruce was continuing to put out papers, and Peter was consuming them at an alarming rate.

Maybe he could bring Bruce to meet Peter one night.

Bruce had displayed plenty of interest in getting to talk to Peter, and Peter had definitely displayed his own.

Yeah, maybe Peter wouldn’t hate him if he brought Bruce.

“Hey, Bru-“ Sam’s greeting stopped short as a very disgruntled Bruce Banner lay on one of the couches, taking deep breaths.

“Uh…everything ok?”

“If by ok you mean I won’t Hulk out, then you should know I’m straddling a thin line right now. I can’t go back to the lab or the line will break.” Bruce huffed.

Sam grimaced at Bruce’s obvious efforts to calm himself were only marginally working.

“We’ll, I’m going out. Wanna join me? Maybe getting out of here will help?”

Bruce paused, lifting his head to look at Sam. The green tint to his eyes started to fade as he considered the option.

“You know, maybe that’s a good idea.”

Sam grinned as Bruce stood up.

Peter was gonna freak, and hopefully in a good way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“When did you start coming here?” Bruce asked. “It’s a bit out of the way for us.”

“It’s what I needed. With the raging alpha hormones, I wanted to be as far away as possible.” Sam sighed before smirking.

“Plus, I get a little private bonus for coming here.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he followed Sam into the rowdy bar.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” Bruce frowned, uncomfortable with all the people.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be clearing out soon.”

Bruce continued to frown, but followed Sam to the bar anyway. As they sat down, a muscular black man stood in front of them. He raised an eyebrow as he took in the sight on Bruce.

“Taking a real chance there, Wilson.”

Bruce looked up as Luke Cage moved in front of them.

“I’m aware.” Sam nodded. “But I’m pretty confident it’s gonna be fine.”

The man shrugged before setting Sam’s usual down and asking what Bruce wanted.

“Just water please, I’m not really a drinker.” Bruce winced.

“Strange to come to a bar for water, but to each their own, Banner.”

“I didn't know you ran a bar.”

“It's pretty low key. Mostly just known here in the Kitchen. Anyway, when you come back, leave Wilson at home next time.”

Sam choked on his drink as Luke laughed, moving on down the bar after giving Bruce his water.

“Jerk.” Sam muttered, no bite to his words.

“How long have you been coming here?” Bruce asked.

“About a month or so now. Couple of nights a week depending on certain factors."

“How have we not noticed you’ve been going out so much?” Bruce asked.

"Well, in your defense Bruce, you're usually tied up in some sort of research and buried in the lab."

"Don't talk about the lab." Bruce grunted. "That is a terrible subject at the moment."

"That's only raising my curiosity."

Bruce huffed as he took a sip of his water.

"Let's just say that Tony is in big trouble for the foreseeable future."

Sam laughed as he patted Bruce on the back.

"Just let me and Clint know what we need to do for you. Clint's been dying to have a go at Tony since he rigged one of his arrows with confetti during training."

The two continued talking, Sam occasionally taking note of the fact the crowd was thinning out quickly. As it neared the time Peter would most likely come from the back, Sam turned to Bruce with a serious expression.

"I'm gonna tell you something Bruce, but you've gotta keep it a secret."

"Is this something that could get us in some sort of trouble?" Bruce asked wearily.

"......no? Maybe? Probably? Yeah, definitely." Sam shrugged with a smile. "But if it makes you feel better, you'll be getting an immeasurable up on Tony."

Bruce raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Okay.....what's the big secret?"

"The drinks and distance from the tower aren't the only reasons I come here."

"Are you seeing someone Sam?" Bruce asked. "You know you don't have to keep it a secret from us."

"Oh, I'm 'seeing' someone alright, and I do have to keep it a secret and now you will too."

"Why-"

"Hey Sam!"

Bruce's head snapped up in surprise as a smiling Peter Parker walked over, clearly not noticing Bruce's presence.

"Hey, Pete." Sam smiled nervously. "I..um...hope you don't mind that I brought a friend? I told him the rule of meeting you."

Peter frowned as his eyes moved to the person next to Sam, then choked on air.

"D-Dr Banner!" Peter gasped.

Bruce just looked between Peter and Sam in shock, desperately trying to figure out what was going on. How had Sam managed to get close to Peter without anyone knowing?

"H-hi." Bruce stumbled, holding out his hand and praying he wasn't going to have to kill Sam.

He knew how protective the Defenders could be when it came to Peter, and he had no desire to have trouble.

Peter stared a moment before grasped his outstretched hand and began shaking it excitedly.

"I know I should be upset and throw you out Sam, but I'm to busy having a mental freakout at the fact I'm meeting Dr. Banner properly as opposed to when he rescued me from prison."

"Y-yeah." Bruce grimaced at the memory of the last time he had physically seen Peter. "I didn't know they were gonna do that...."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that." Peter smirked, pulling back his hand. "I've never seen someone look so...done with people."

"We may be a pack," Bruce sighed. "But I know stupid when I see it."

Peter laughed as Bruce ran his hand down his face.

"If you have time Dr. Banner, I'd love to get to talk to you. I have so many questions about your work. I've been pouring through your research papers and I've wanted to pick your brain so bad!"

Bruce blinked in surprise at Peter's eager face.

"Careful Bruce," Sam grinned. "Peter's a total fanboy."

"I'm not ashamed to admit that, Wilson." Peter scoffed.

"Well," Bruce said slowly, unsure how Peter would take what he was about to say. "I can't deny I've been wanting to talk to you either. I'm fascinated by your abilities. I mean, I've seen videos of you getting hurt pretty badly, then be out the very next day seemingly fine."

"Tell you what, Dr. Banner." Peter grinned. "We close in a bit. If you guys aren't looking to leave soon, maybe we can talk more. I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

"Deal." Bruce smiled.

Sam smiled in satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair. He had been nervous to bring Bruce. He didn't know how Peter would handle it. Despite the fact Peter knew Bruce was a beta, and uninterested in the dynamics that came between alphas and omegas, he was still a part of the pack. Looking at him now though, he knew he had definitely made the right call by bringing Bruce. Peter got to fanboy over the one Avenger he had even seemed remotely okay with from the beginning and gain a new friend, not to mention Bruce finally had someone other than Tony to talk science with.

Speaking of Tony, he still wanted to know what the man had done to nearly cause Bruce to lose it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was after Luke and Peter closed down the bar that Sam finally got his answer. Peter's praise of Bruce's work ultimately led to Bruce admitting what happened between him and Tony.

He blew up half the lab!" Bruce growled. "Four months of my research gone in a few seconds!"

Peter gasped in outrage.

"Four months worth?" he shouted. 'What was he doing?

"I don't even know!" Bruce groaned. "One minute everything was fine and then the next, half the lab was on fire!"

Sam struggled to hold his laughter in. He hated Bruce lost his research, but Tony was gonna have to fork out some major money to fix the area, and do some major groveling to earn Bruce's forgiveness.

For once, Sam wished he and Bruce could tell the others about meeting up with Peter. That would really stick it to Tony if Bruce could let that little gem slip.

"I'm really sorry about that Dr. Banner." Peter frowned. "I would be furious too. I'm saddened at the loss of, what I'm sure, was something amazing."

"Not much I can do about it now." Bruce sighed in defeat. 'I'll just have to start over and please, Peter, call me Bruce."

"Wow. Ok, Bruce! I wish I could help." Peter said dreamily. "I'd love the chance to say I got to work with Dr. Bruce Banner!"

"Hey! What about the fact you get to be friends with The Falcon?" Sam huffed, crossing his arms. "I'm pretty cool to, you know."

"Sure, sure, Sam." Peter smirked, waving Sam off.

"I can't believe this. Here I bring you your man crush, Banner, and this is how you repay me?"

Peter laughed, ignoring Sam's disgruntled muttering as he turned back to Bruce.

"So, you have questions for me?"

"Y-yes! If you don't mind talking about your abilities that is."

"No, it's ok." Peter smiled. "To be honest, I've never really gotten the opportunity to study myself on a molecular level. I can tell you everything I can do, and the fact I've noticed myself acting spider like at times." A slight blush rose to Peter's cheeks at that admission.

"Oh, what's with the blush Parker?" Sam grinned, leaning forward.

"N-nothing!" Peter answered quickly.

"No. I refuse to ignore this. Again, I brought Banner! Let's hear it."

Peter sighed, taking a sip of the coke he had.

"I....I was pretty....pretty turned on once by a woman I knew. She was pulling a con at a strip club. I went to catch her and she caught me in the audience and....her dance.....well.....you know, there are species of spiders that are seduced by...dancing? I don't exactly know what the spider that bit me was.....but I know it was genetically altered...possibly even crossbred-"

"Wait! Are you telling me this woman danced her way into your pants?" Sam snickered as Peter's face turned red.

"I couldn't help it! I was practically in a trance! But no, we didn't get that far. The Avengers attacked the club before I could get her alone. I'm not sure how it would have gone if I did."

"That's....that's something." Bruce stumbled. "Not to be a downer Peter, but you should probably keep an eye on that."

"Yeah," Peter puffed out. "Not exactly good to be an omega getting horny just by watching someone dance for them."

"You a horn dog for dancers now, Jones?"

The three men's heads shot up as a smirking Jessica Jones pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Jones?" Bruce asked, looking at Peter.

"Yeah," Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Can't exactly be Peter Parker here. So I'm-"

"My lesser good looking cousin." Jessica cackled.

"How have you not told me this yet?" Sam asked, shooting Peter a pointed look.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"My last name is Jones now."

"I hate you."

Peter laughed as Jessica turned to Bruce.

"Luke told me Peter had been meeting up with Wilson here, but how'd you get drug into this?"

"I almost lost control at the tower when Tony blew up my research." Bruce deadpanned.

Jessica blinked at him, silent for a moment before bursting out laughing.

"I bet Stark was shitting his pants!"

"He disappeared pretty quickly." Bruce sighed.

"Well, I hate to break up the party, but we've got plans. Come on you two." Luke said, strolling up to the table and pointing at Peter and Jessica.

"Matt just called, Karen's on her way to the hospital. Looks like the kid is making an early appearance."

Peter and Jessica jumped up, scooping up the glasses on the table and putting them behind the bar for clean up tomorrow.

"Give the happy couple our best, Pete." Sam smiled, following the trio out the door.

"I will. Dr. Banner, it was an honor to officially meet you! Please come back. You don't have to bring Sam." Peter said, shaking Bruce's hand with a grin.

"You keep talking and neither one of us are coming back." Sam said, crossing his arms.

"I'd be so devastated at the loss of your presence." Peter said flatly.

"You would be. I'm great company, you ass."

Peter grinned, making to respond before Luke cut in.

"Cut the chit chat, Jones, we gotta go."

"Coming! Well, later guys! I got a nephew to meet!"

"Nephew?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah. I'm gonna be 'Uncle Peter' whether Matt agrees or not. It was already approved by Karen. Anyway, later! Thanks for breaking the code, Sam! I can forgive you because you brought Dr. Banner!"

"Call me Bruce!" Bruce shouted as Peter ran off with a wave.

Once he was out of sight, Bruce spun to Sam with wide eyes.

"How could you be seeing Peter behind everyone's backs! If they found out, they'd kill you!"

"It was a complete accident I found him." Sam said, holding up his hands in defense. "I was just wanting a drinking hole far from the tower. I knew this was Luke's place so I stopped in. I had no idea Peter was working here part time."

"Are you not worried about his blockers failing? We don't exactly pick up on any omega or alpha scents like they do."

"I just have FRIDAY let me know where everyone is when I get back and I go straight to the shower and then run my clothes under the water before burying them in the laundry. Even if Steve and Buck enter my room, there's no smell to pick up."

"Wow." Bruce said, letting out a breath. "Have you ever gotten as close to Peter as you did tonight? I mean, was there always the bar between you?"

"Yeah, so we're gonna have to be a little more careful tonight. It's pretty late though, so everyone should be asleep. Not that I think anyone would be approaching you considering the fact that, by now, I'm sure everyone's heard there was an accident in the lab."

"Don't remind me." Bruce groaned. "Now I have to wait for Tony to rebuild before I can even restart my work."

The two walked to where Sam had parked, sliding into the seats before Bruce spoke again.

"Do you think I could ever get Peter to the lab? He said he wanted to work with me, and I could catch up a lot faster with a mind like his."

"I think you know the answer to that, Bruce. Peter's not going anywhere near the tower."

"Yeah." Bruce frowned. "It was just a thought."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you really ok with Wilson having brought Banner?" Jessica asked, turning around in the front seat to look back at Peter.

"Well, I don't have much of an option now, but yeah. Bruce wasn't a bad guy in my world. He's the only Avenger I don't have a problem with. He was just as much a victim as everyone else."

"You don't think he'll spill to the others?"

"Honestly, no. He helped me leave the tower that time, plus Sam told him the deal, and Sam's yet to rat me out."

"As far as you know." Luke said, looking the the rearview. "I'm not saying I don't trust Wilson. To tell the truth, I don't think he'd tell them, unless he didn't have a choice. Just be careful, kid."

The car was silent the rest of the way to the hospital. Each person lost in thought.

"Well, here we are kids." Jessica said as they pulled into the parking lot. "Is Rand here?"

"Yeah, he's how called. He was with Matt when Karen went into labor."

"He better not think he's holding the baby before me." Peter huffed, climbing out the back.

"Relax, 'Uncle Peter', we all know the pecking order." Jessica said, rolling her eyes. "But I'm after you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny met them as they got out the elevator.

"Karen's still in delivery. I've never seen Matt as serious as he was when Karen called, and that's saying something given his general demeanor when he's out." he grinned.

"Devil Dad Mode activated." Peter laughed.

"He's gonna be such a pain." Jessica grumbled.

"He's not hitting the field any time soon." Luke said, crossing his arms. "He wonn't be in any mental state to be of any use."

"No new parent-"

"No, Pete." Danny said, cutting him off. "I'm sure parents were protective in your world, but this is a completely different deal. Alphas are fiercely protective of their babies and omegas. Karen's comfort level with you and us was the only reason Matt was as calm as he was during Karen's pregnancy. He knew he could count on us. This though, this will be different. If Matt even lets us in the room."

Peter frowned. It seemed like he was constantly learning something new.

"So you mean, we came here for nothing?"

"No, we came here as support. Even if Matt doesn't let us in, knowing we were here will mean something to both him and Karen."

"I'll never get to hold my nephew!" Peter pouted, throwing himself into a chair and crossing his arms. "I didn't have any siblings, so this is as close as I'm gonna get."

"Relax, drama queen." Jessica said, falling into the seat next to him. "You'll get your chance eventually."

"This world is stupid. All these hormones are on my nerves."

"Oh?" Jessica smirked. "Just wait till you get back there and those omega instincts you try to keep buried kick in."

"What?"

"You telling us you haven't felt even the slightest bit overprotective of Karen?" Luke asked, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, we all know you and her haven't exactly been getting along with her encouraging you to get to know the Avengers, and yet you still go over to Matt's apartment and sit with her whenever you're not working. Hell, you've even had her come stay the night at your place when Matt's gone out for a long night."

"So? Friends don't always have to get along you know." Peter scoffed.

"No, but don't sit there and deny you've gotten over a lot with Karen faster than normal during her pregnancy." Danny smirked.

"That has nothing to do with anything other than not wanting to stress her out!"

"Well, you didn't see any of us throwing the offer out." Jessica grinned smugly.

"None of that has anything to do with my stupid omega status. I would have done that regardless. Karen and Matt are my friends."

"Sure, Pete." Three voice said at once.

"I hate all of you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce fidgeted as they got closer to the tower.

"You gotta calm down man. At this rate your nerves will be picked up more than anything else." Sam warned.

"I'm just not in any mood to be discovered. I wanna be able to meet with Peter again."

"I've been doing this long enough, Bruce. Just do what I told you. I'll get us to the rooms, you go shower and rinse out your clothes." Sam soothed, not at all worried about being found out.

As he turned to pull into the parking garage, he slammed on the breaks. Standing in the open was a disappointed Steve and a guilty looking Tony.

"What are they doing here?" Bruce asked, eyes wide.

"Well, judging by Steve's face, I'm pretty sure you're about to get a rare Tony Stark apology."

"You think Steve will smell anything? I mean, could we be over estimating him and Bucky? I mean, Peter was wearing his blockers and there are a lotof other smells in the bar...Jessica! She sat at the table with us! If we smell like anyone, we'd smell like her!" Bruce said, panic leaking through.

"Hang on, Bruce."

"Wha-"

Bruce cut off as Sam threw the car into reverse and sped through the parking garage backwards.

"What are you doing!" Bruce shouted, gripping the dashboard with white knuckles.

"I think I'd like to joyride a little longer." Sam said, flying out the the garage and spinning out onto the street.

"There could have been people coming!"

"This is the back of the tower. If someone was coming through here I'd have questions." Sam replied, merging into traffic.

The two were silent as they calmed their racing hearts.

"Sam-"

The two jumped as Sams phone starting ringing, Steve's name flashing across the screen.

"What are we gonna tell them?" Bruce groaned.

"Easy." Sam smirked. "That you weren't quite ready to deal with Tony yet."

"Well, at least we have a chance of them believing that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony and Steve stood in the garage, stunned as they watched Sam peel out of the parking lot, backwards.

"You saw that too, right Capsicle?" Tony asked.

"Yeah." Steve replied, flabbergasted. "I didn't even know Sam could drive like that."

"So, does this mean I don't have to issue Brucie Bear that apology?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter smiled widely as he pushed open the door to Karen's room. From where he stood, he could see Matt hovering over Karen and the baby like the overprotective alpha he was.

"Hey, Peter." Karen smiled, looking up at him.

"Did you all fight for entry order?" Matt asked, lifting his head.

"They can fight." Peter shrugged. "But I was always gonna be first."

Karen chuckled, motioning for him to come closer.

Peter moved to the side of the bed, surprised by the lack of aggression from Matt that the others had warned him about.

"You're an omega Peter, you're non-threatening to an alpha and their omega and pup."

"I could be threatening." Peter pouted.

Matt scoffed.

"Please, Pete. You've damn near matched me in worry and protectiveness at times."

"I'm intimidation!"

"You're adorable. Now get over here and meet your nephew." Karen giggled.

"He's not an uncle." Matt said flatly.

"You're right." Peter nodded. "I'm not an uncle, I'm the uncle!"

Matt snorted before giving a smirk and turning back to Karen and the baby.

"So, what can I call this little guy?"

"Jack. Jack Murdock." Karen said, running a finger down the baby's chubby cheek.

Peter's eyes snapped up to Matt. He knew Matt's dad had went by the nickname "Jack" before being murdered by a sleazy mobster for refusing to take a dive during a boxing match.

At least, the Matt's dad of his world had.

Matt gave a small nod before running a finger down Jack's face

"Want to hold him?"

Peter looked up in surprise, eyes darting from Karen to Matt.

"Pick the pup up, Parker." Matt grunted.

Peter grinned as he carefully lifted Jack out of Karen's arms.

"Hey, Jack, I'm your Uncle Peter. You're lucky that I happen to have had the best of the best uncle role models to learn from. My Uncle Ben helped raise me. He's a big part of who I am today. I hope to be even half as good of an uncle to you as he was to me."

As Peter carried on talking to their pup, Karen watched them. Peter was a natural with kids apparently. She had a suspicion that it had nothing to do with his omega status either.

She let out a little breath as she made up her mind. She wouldn't push Peter any more after today. She had heard that he had started up a tentative friendship with Sam Wilson, so she decided to back off and let him come to her whenever he had questions. Peter was an adult, and she had a pup to take care of. She had to let go of worrying about Peter.

"Deep thoughts?" Matt asked her.

"Just thoughts." Karen smiled, leaning in to Matt's touches as he ran his fingers through her hair.

After a little while of talking to Jack as though he understood everything coming out of his mouth, Peter was forced to give the little pup back to Karen as he began to get a little fussy.

"Time to eat, huh?" Karen giggled, positioning herself.

"I'll leave you both to it." Peter said, backing towards the door to given Karen her privacy.

"Hey, Pete." Matt said, voice tight.

"Yeah?"

"Tell the others no more visitors tonight."

"You got it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So let me get this straight," Jessica started with narrowed eyes. "You get to go in and have baby time, but we are getting sent home?"

"I thought you were expecting that?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up."

"Relax Pete," Danny smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. "We did expect it."

"Matt can be salty even on the best days." Luke smirked.

"I'm gonna get my hands on that pup soon." Jessica nodded, face determined.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked, watching as buildings went by.

"I have no idea." Sam sighed. "I was just driving."

"How long should we stay away you think?"

"Well, considering the state of the lab, Tony's got no choice but to actually sleep tonight, so probably not much longer."

Bruce's head fell back against the headrest as Sam turned down a road and started making the return trip towards the tower. As frustrating as have to avoid Tony as Steve was, Bruce wouldn't deny he was happy to have gotten to talk to Peter. There was so much he wanted to ask, but he didn't know what to say and not say. There were a few times he had caught Peter looking at him as though he weren't really seeing him.

"Thinking hard doc?" Sam grinned.

"What happened to me in Peter's world?"

Silence filled the car as Bruce waited.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just the way Peter acted sometimes when I talked."

Sam sighed and rubbed his chin.

"Peter...he uh....he has an extremely soft spot for you...maybe even more than the copies of me and Bucky, and they were his best friends!"

"Why?"

"He felt sorry for you."

Bruce blinked in surprise as Sam gripped the steering wheel.

"What made him feel sorry for the me of his world?"

"He said.....he said you weren't really with the Avengers. He said they kept you prisoner, only letting you out when they needed Hulk. He respected your research and hated what they did to you."

Bruce was quiet as he turned to watch the city pass. The Bruce of Peter's world had had to live his ultimate fear. Being locked up and having Hulk be let loose like a monster had always been something in the back of his mind, but never something he would have thought the Avengers would do.

"Look, Bruce," Sam started. "I want you to know, that's never gonna hap-"

"I know." Bruce smiled tightly. "I do know, but I can't help thinking about how that Bruce must have felt."

"Yeah. The more I learn, the more I'm glad Peter did what he did. Having gotten to talk to him, I do hate the idea of him having not survived, but those copies couldn't continue on like that."

"I'm wondering what happened to send Peter here though." Bruce frowned. "A bomb shouldn't have tossed him into another universe."

"Bruce, with all that we've seen, I'm not above believing anything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha raised as eyebrow as she stepped into the kitchen the next morning. Tony was slumped over the bar countertop while Steve rummaged around, slowly gathering supplies for breakfast.

"Rough night?"

"Sam wouldn't let me talk to Bruce! They were gone all night. They even left the tower again when they saw me and Cap waiting on them in the parking garage."

"I'd avoid you to if you set my research back by four years." Natasha snorted. "Maybe Bruce just didn't want to hear your apology so Sam didn't give you the chance."

"Since when does Brucie Bear go out?" Tony huffed.

"Hmm, a friend helping out a friend....you're right, it's suspicious as hell." Natasha deadpanned.

"I wonder where Sam took him." Steve said, cracking eggs into a pan. "If Bruce enjoyed it, maybe we should all go."

"Go where?" Bucky asked, voice deep and raspy from sleep.

"Where ever Sam took Bruce last night after Tony blew the lab." Natasha smirked.

"Yes. It was a mighty explosion." Thor nodded, following Bucky into the kitchen.

"I get it. I messed up. For the record though, I was working on a gift for Peter." Tony scowled. "I don't see any of you doing anything to impress our headstrong omega."

No one replied.

"So......did uh....did you lose your work?" Steve asked with false casualty.

Tony looked at the super soldier flatly.

"Yes, Steve. Yes I did."

"It is clear that it was for the best then." Thor smiled, patting Tony on the back as he sat down next to him. "We can't have you blowing up our perfect little mate, now can we?"

Tony growled as Thor continued to smile, oblivious to the man's ire.

Natasha and Bucky tried to hide their smirks as they moved around the kitchen.

"Well then Goldilocks, what are your plans to help us woo our spider?" Tony ground out.

"Easy!" Thor smiled. "I shall take a more direct approach."

"We were specifically told not to do that, Thor." Steve frowned, looking up from where he was making eggs.

"Yes, but I do not plan to do more than make my intentions towards him known. You see, I simply wish to let him know of my respect and desire to earn his trust and affection. As a royal of Asgard, it is important to learn how to speak to people diplomatically. "

"Oh, I see that going over splendidly." Tony rolled his eyes before freezing. "You know what, let me know when you decide to do this. I'd just love to be there."

"Very well friend! I shall let you know once I have spoken to Ka-"

"Good luck with that." Sam chuckled, walking in and going to the refrigerator. "Karen had baby Murdock last night. You guys won't be getting anywhere near her any time soon."

"How do you know that?" Natasha asked, studying Sam closely.

Sam, despite his efforts to remain passive, flinched at her tone.

"You know. Word gets around the hero community."

"Did you hear this from wherever you took Bruce last night?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing him arms.

"Look," Sam huffed. "I took Bruce out last night to get him away from Fire Marshall Bill over there. We went to a small bar and ran into Jessica Jones and she got the call while talking to us. That's how I know."

"Well, we should at least send over a gift." Steve said, turning from the stove and scooping out eggs and bacon onto plates.

"You're like the mother of this team Rogers." Tony said blandly. "Are you sure you're an alpha?"

"You've never complained before." Steve challenged.

"Nope. No way. Not happening in front of the food." Sam glared, grabbing two plates and stomping out of the alpha filled kitchen.

"FRIDAY, take me to Bruce."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam tried to hold back his laugh as a disgruntled Bruce Banner stood in the doorway of his room. The man's sleep clothes were rumpled and crooked. His hard stuck up in various directions and there were bags under his eyes.

"Shut-up."

Sam's laugh burst out as Bruce snatched the plate of food out his hand and moved into his room.

"Hey, be grateful you didn't have to go down there and get that."

"Why?"

"They were all in the kitchen, well, minus Clint."

Bruce frowned, looking over at the clock.

"It's time for breakfast. He doesn't miss breakfast."

"No I don't, so share."

Sam and Bruce jumped as the archer tumbled out the vent to Bruce's floor.

"The hell man?" Sam shouted.

"I was hoping to hear where you two went last night!" Clint defended.

"I just took Bruce out to get him away from Tony!"

"You could have invited me! Maybe I wanted to get away from Tony too."

"Why would you want to get away from Tony?" Bruce asked blankly.

"........"

"So....no reason."

"Come on! We're all betas here! We should stick together! I can't handle the Mopey Alpha Force."

Sam and Bruce sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter stretched, back cracking from where he had spent the last few hours bent over his desk. Various disassembled electronics littered his room.

"Alright, let's see if I got it."

Slipping his mask on, he waited.

A few seconds later, his lenses filled with light as the screens in the lenses began to provide digital readouts of various things he looked at.

"So far so good." Peter mumbled before taking a deep breath.

"GWEN?"

"Hello, Peter. It is nice to finally get to talk with you."

Peter's face broke out into a wide grins as a soothing voice filled his ears.

It had worked.

His own AI.

"How do you feel?"

"That's a rather silly question, Peter. I can't feel anything. You should know this."

Peter's jaw dropped.

"Did I really program you with that much sass?"

"It appears that way....possibly. I have also been learning during the course of my construction. You surround yourself with a rather sarcastic crowd, Peter. Personally, I think I'm going to fit in just fine."

"Oh come on GWEN, you're supposed to be my support! You're supposed to be nice to me!" Peter pouted.

"If it makes you feel better, I love you, Peter."

It was odd that he could practically hear the smile in her voice.

"Thanks GWEN. I love you too." he chuckled.

"Are you planning to go out tonight? If you are, you should get some sleep. You've been working since you got back from the hospital."

"Yeah, I was pumped after meeting Jack plus, I'm anxious for our first date night." Peter grinned. " I'm gonna download some maps into your system so you can help me around the city. In the meantime, I'm gonna go shower then crash. No work today."

GWEN was silent as he removed his mask and shook out his hair. Placing it on his desk, he picked up his phone.

"GWEN?"

"Fully connected here as well Peter. Transfer between suit and phone was flawless. I'm rather proud."

Peter laughed, setting his phone back down the desk and plugging it into his computer.

"Alright GWEN, access the map files and download them. I'll be back."

GWEN didn't respond as Peter gathered his clothes and made his way toward the bathroom. He hadn't told anyone he had been working on an AI. He wasn't sure he was even going to be able to do it, so he didn't want to open himself up for interrogations for no reason.

Now though, now it was different.

GWEN was fully operational.

Prior to her completion, her infant programming had been hiding in his phone, learning as he went to the best of her constantly developing coding. This was her first verbal interaction and everything seemed to be running smoothly. Maybe he could integrate her into more things.

As loath as he was to admit it, he couldn't deny Tony Stark had made amazing use of his own AI. His short time at the tower proved the AI controlled a lot of things there. Bruce had been able to let him out with a simple verbal command. Maybe he could find a way to put GWEN into his own apartment. Having an all seeing AI guarding him wouldn't be such as bad idea. It didn't much matter that he was more than capable of taking care of himself, being an unmated omega all alone only seemed to invite trouble.

Even more loathsome, was the annoying and tiny voice in the back of his head wishing to be able to go to Avengers' Tower and actually pick Tony Stark's brain about A.Is.

Peter scoffed as the warm water washed over him and he smothered out the voice. This world, while it had so many things he was happy with, there were many things he wasn't.

Being an omega came with so many limitations. Despite his capabilities, his strength and intelligence, neither of which he could or was allowed to display, the mere label of 'omega' meant more than anything.

Sure, omegas were able to hold down jobs, the best paying being OBGYN's since that was the only medical position society deemed appropriate for omegas, and oddly enough, omega's alone. Still, those omegas that took on the job, weren't well favored as they were also viewed as "unfit" companions.

Honestly, being an omega in the work industry was just weird as hell. You can work, but your options are limited. You can work, but certain jobs cause you problems. You can work, just take whatever job is the most favorable for flying under the radar.

Thanks to the omegas at Xavier's for their generous donations of the most powerful blockers to exist. Still, working for Luke and Jessica were the only real places that he felt comfortable. He was able to hide his second gender and they sure as shit didn't care. They paid, and they paid under the table to avoid any official paperwork trail. An omega working in a bar or doing detective work was unheard of!

Sighing, he got to the shower and toweled off, slipping into some sweatpants and a t-shirt before heading to the small kitchen. His apartment was far from extravagant. It was a small, one bedroom flat. Danny had helped him get it, paying the deposit and first three months rent while Luke and Jessica got him settled into his new positions. He had tried to deny Danny's help, but the man had been firm and unrelenting, causing Peter to swear to pay him back, something Danny had thought hysterical.

Making quick work of a ham and cheese sandwich, Peter walked back to his room, face planting onto the bed.

"Map files are uploaded, Peter. Get some rest."

Peter smiled before sleep took him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karen looked up from where she was feeding Jack and smirked.

"You're fidgeting dear."

Matt huffed before standing and moving to her side.

"I don't 'fidget'."

"You fidget almost as much a Peter."

"No one could fidget anywhere near as much as Peter."

Karen chuckled, before looking out the window.

"I think I'm going to apologize to him."

Matt paused, just letting her think.

"I've been to pushy. I know his history with his Avengers, and I still pushed him to meet the ones here. I just worry about him. He's an unmated omega out in a world where being that very thing can be such a hassle. He's so independent that he'd have so many problems should those super blockers ever fail. Not to mention he's not even on suppressants because we don't know why he's not showing signs of typical omega cycles of heats. He's been here long enough to have had at least one."

Matt sighed, pulling up a chair to sit next to the bed.

"Your concern is valid, Peter just doesn't want it. Still, he needs a little push to get to know them. Whether he wants to acknowledge them as his alphas or not, he needs to, at least, be able to fight along side them without the distraction of constantly fearing them turning on us. We fight together often enough for that to be something he should work on."

"He wouldn't like hearing that any more than hearing me talk about his omega needs." Karen chuckled.

"I don't care." Matt replied. "His attention is split during fights. It makes him dangerous to himself and us."

Karen was silent as she continued to feed their pup.

"Well, what do you propose?"

"Right now, nothing. Approaching Peter out of the blue about it is only asking for trouble. It's something that needs to be lead up to."

"Just be careful. I'm on shaking ground with him. He's been caring towards me because of my pregnancy, but I know there's an annoyance there. Still, I think it's an easy to repair relationship once I tell him I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Matt chuckled. "He's to good hearted not to accept a sincere apology."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thor took a breath. Being the God of Thunder, he rarely ever had any reason to feel nervous. Still, standing outside Jessica Jones' detective agency, he felt his nerves tingle.

Maybe he should have went to Danny or Luke. In hindsight, Jessica was most definitely the wrong choice. However, he was already here and it was important he be able to request a meeting with his omega, even if he had a chaperone during it.

Lifting his hand hesitantly, he went to knock on her door when a familiar thwip reached his ears.

Looking up, Thor watched as a very welcoming sight of blue and red swung overhead. He felt his face heat as he watched Peter somersault through the air with a loud 'whoop'. His omega's obvious happiness was a wonderful sound to his ears.

He watched until Peter swung out of sight and ran his hand down his face. To chase after him would only result in anger and aggression from the hero, but to not approach him at all only lengthened the lack of interaction and possible relationship building he and the other alphas wanted to do.

Why did the Avengers of Peter's world have to be such dishonorable and repulsive people?

"Can I help you, Captain Thunderpants?"

Thor startled as he turned to see a smirking Jessica Jones leaning against her open door frame.

"Oh, yes." Thor said, straightening himself. "I wish to speak with you."

"This wouldn't be about my favorite arachnid, would it? Don't tell him I called him that though, or I'll kill you."

"As a matter of fact, it would."

Jessica grinned mischievously as she motioned for him to come in.

"Better make it quick big guy. No guarantee Spider-Baby won't drop in, and I can't imagine he'd be overly excited to see you here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter felt the adrenaline pumping through him. So far, GWEN had been operating perfectly. Her downloaded mapping system was working excellently, making quick work of getting to any crimes he picked up through the hacked police feed.

"You're a work of art GWEN."

"Are you seriously praising yourself, Peter?"

"Only marginally." Peter laughed. "I programed you to be self learning. I'm only hold so much responsibility for your amazingness."

"I'm not fully convinced this isn't you just bragging to yourself."

Peter just continued to laugh as he dove off the roof of the building he was on.

"No, patting myself on the back is what I'm really about to do. I wanna show you off. We gotta go visit someone."

"Ms. Jones is the closest of your approved contacts."

"I'll only feel a bit bad that Matt isn't who you'll meet first."

"I don't think meeting me is something he would be overly interested in right now."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Peter chuckled. "Alright GWEN, let's go pay my 'cousin' a visit."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I have to say, choosing to wear your blockers is a very good start, High Voltage." Jessica said, throwing herself into a chair and snatching a bottle off the end table.

"I want to assure him I mean no harm."

"You do realize that'll take more than a few blockers, right?"

Thor frowned and sighed, settling into another chair.

"I am aware. Our dishonorable counterparts have done us a great disservice."

"Well, not entirely." Jessica shrugged. "I mean, they are the reason he's here so....."

"We're grateful he's here, we just don't like the circumstances of it."

"Understandable. Look, I'm the last person you should have come to for this. I'm not an omega, so I can't help you there. I also enjoy drama, so I'm salivating at all your struggles." Jessica threw him a wicked grin.

"That is both unsettling and disheartening." Thor grimaced.

Jessica chuckled, taking a swig from her bottle.

"Look, I get it, Karen is currently off limits. I also get that considering she's with Matt, there's no telling just how long she'll be unavailable, but I seriously can't help you."

Thor sighed again, throwing his head back and looking at the ceiling.

"We worry about his health."

"So does Karen, but he seems to be doing fine. If you didn't know him, you wouldn't even be able to tell he was an omega. Those super strength blockers he got from the wonder bunch and Xavier's are amazing."

Thor didn't reply. While they had all caught on to the fact that Peter's scent seemed nonexistent, that had had no idea why. It had begun to scare them. It was a relief to find out his scent was just completely muffled.

"Tell you what Thunder God, I'll offer you a question. Have any of you tried just making yourself available?"

Thor raised an eyebrow in response.

"Like, going out at night and just sitting on random rooftops? Not pursuing him, just out and stationary."

"I hardly think that would matter. He never makes any attempt to approach us when there is a crowd, why would he do it alone?"

"Peter's a strange guy like that. Alone, he may have the security of being able to take you down, because, ya know, he can."

"Stark seeks to try to gain his attention through a gift."

"......a gift? Look, I know that a typical omega trait is to enjoy their alphas spoiling them, but Pete's not like that. Unless.....unless Stark's making some kind of fancy tech for him." Jessica said, rolling her eyes. "Pete's a real technology whore."

"Do not speak of my omega that way!" Thor roared, jumping up from his chair to tower over Jessica.

Jessica raised an eyebrow and went to open her mouth in challenge when the door to her office flew off the hinges and Thor slammed into the wall. Groaning, the god struggled to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. Before he could orient himself, a fist slammed into his face.

"You should have stayed down!"

"Peter!" Jessica shouted, jumping up.

"I told you! I told you! They were just waiting!" Peter growled, throwing another punch.

"Peter! Stop! It's not what you think! He wasn't gonna hurt me!"

"Stop lying! It's only one of them! We can take him!"

"Peter!"

Peter gasped as Jessica's fist slammed into his cheek, knocking him back. Moving in front of the rising Thor, she turned to face that stunned vigilante.

"And I told you, it wasn't what you thought. He got mad because he thought I insulted you."

"So? That doesn't give him any right to be threatening towards you!'

"It's fine!"

Thor wisely watched in silence as the two friends faced off. He hadn't actually meant any harm to Jessica, but he knew Peter was protective of all his friends. If he had known there was a chance Peter would show up here, he would definitely have made sure not to overreact to Jessica's, he can admit, harmless joke. It was just so hard to hear anyone speak of Peter with such a casual air when they were so far from being able to.

He took in a breath when Peter ripped off his mask. His mask mused hair stood up at odd angles, and his face was flush with emotions. The pretty honey brown eyes were dark with betrayal and anger.

"Move, Jess. I'm gonna deal with this asshole once and for all!"

"Sorry, Pete, but you'll have to go through me to do it."

Peter froze, the color draining from his face. He knew from her posture, Jessica wasn't joking. She was actually willing to fight him to keep him from going after the Avenger.

"Jess......"

"You have to understand, Peter. This isn't your world and he's not your enemy. He's an ally."

Peter's eyes darted between Jessica and Thor before sadness replaced everything. Shoulders slumping, Peter pulled his mask back on, and left.

Once he was gone, Thor guiltily looked at Jessica's gloomy face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause you such stress."

"It's ok." Jessica sighed, closing her eyes and running her hand down her face. "Pete's got a lot he needs to work on. I don't agree with Karen's methods, but she's honestly been trying more than the rest of us to get through to Peter. We've all taken the approach of just letting Peter see us interacting with you guys and hoping that seeing how comfortable everyone is, that that would eventually be enough."

"Perhaps I should have let him fight me."

"Are you serious?" Jessica shouted, turning on him. "None of you have seen how strong he really is!"

"But if I had let him fight me, I could have shown him how I don't mean any harm."

"You mean, let him beat the crap out of you?" Jessica scoffed.

"Yes. If I truly meant him harm, I would never just allow him to do that."

Jessica let out a breath as she studied Thor's face.

"There's no guarantee that would work. Peter could just kill you instead of taking your unwillingness to hurt him into consideration."

The two were silent for a while, both thinking over what had happened.

"I think I may have made things worse for the rest of us." Thor frowned, lowering his head.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Jessica shrugged. "He may be speaking to me for a little while though."

"I'm sorry."

"Eh. It's fine. I've been through worse than this. I hate it, sure, but I'm not going to dwell on it. That's Karen's department, and by extension, Matt's. Matt's kind of Peter's caretaker anyway since he's who he went to first."

"I should head home." Thor said, heading to the door.

"Why not do what I told you and hang out on a rooftop somewhere? Who knows, maybe he'll show up for that fight."

He nodded before leaving.

Jessica watched before her anger suddenly flared. Running out the door, she screamed up at the sky, knowing there was a good chance her target would hear.

"Hey! You're gonna pay to have my door fixed, cousin! You asshole!"

[juju-on-that-yeet]

Unravel, Chapter 14/20

Work Summary: Antisepticeye has a plan to destroy Darkiplier, steal his power, and take over everything - and he might just succeed. What starts with Yandereplier going missing evolves into a messy web of betrayal and grief, of blood and tears, of old wounds and new faces. However this ends, Ego Inc. will never be the same again. Chapter Summary: After Anti’s devastating attack, all the egos can do is lick their wounds and mourn the ones they’ve lost. Some of them are coping worse than others. Warnings: Implied death + discussions of death, some graphic descriptions

Read on AO3

Enjoy!

~

To most of the egos, the first few days after Anti’s attack are a blur, spent in a haze of grief and despondency that turns them all into zombies. Half the egos have the nightmares that Natemare gave them to keep them up at night, the other half have the memory of Anti ripping out the hearts of their friends. Time is meaningless in the wake of those horrors, and hours can pass by with the egos doing nothing but remembering.

The only ego who truly feels each creeping second of each creeping day is Google.

Granted, that’s not true of those hours immediately after the fight. With Dr. Iplier and Plus both dead, Google is the group’s best medic, and it becomes his job to triage and help everyone. He stitches up and gives ice packs to the main group, he gives oxygen to and monitors the breathing of the weaker egos, and does what he can for the three dead. None of it is easy work. Everyone is upset, some are angry. Just when everyone has mostly stopped crying, the news of exactly what ended the battle comes out to those who weren’t there, and half of those egos start crying again at the thought of Wilford snapping Jackie and Marvin’s necks. No one blames Wilford for doing it given the circumstances, but they still grieve Jackie and Marvin, they still consider them friends, or at least friendly. When Silver hears about Jackie’s death, he goes silent. Once he’s been treated by Google, he goes to his room and stays there for three days, not even coming out to eat.

Google can’t care. Even once everyone’s injuries are treated, he still has too much to worry about. There are still duties that are now his responsibility, some that he thinks he’s doing better than others.

He has to look after Celine now, for one thing. She’s returned to the clinic once the excitement of the fight is over, and Google has to make sure her condition doesn’t change. He fashions a chip to put in her heart monitor that will alert him to any significant change in her heart rate, so that at least makes the work easier. Also in the clinic is Dr. Iplier’s body, and that’s considerably less easy to address. Google patches up the hole in his chest to the best of his ability; partly because it’s customary to fix those fatal injuries when figments die in case they come back to life, and partly because it was unnerving to look at the hole through his chest and the blood all over his body. Whenever Google looks in on him, someone is always there. Sometimes Host, sometimes Yandere, sometimes even them both together, talking to Dr. Iplier or crying or just sitting numbly. Google never watches long. It reminds him of the emotions in his own mind that he’s trying to avoid.

Those emotions start to swarm him when he’s repairing Plus and Oliver, both of whom have been placed on stretchers in his workshop for him and Chrome to repair. Anti broke up both their cores, smashing a chunk of each into tiny pieces and breaking countless metal plates and snapping countless wires as his hands went through their bodies. The only thing keeping Google from giving into the tidal wave of despair that creeps up when he looks at his little brothers is the fact that, from the neck up, they don’t look dead at all. Androids don’t go pale or rigid with death like humans do. The absence of breathing isn’t strange, either, since androids hardly need to breathe at all. If Google just looks at their faces, they could pass for being asleep. If he’s not looking at their faces, he’s looking at the holes in their chest. Stitching up Dr. Iplier was comparatively easy; Plus and Oliver are mechanical marvels, with hundreds of parts to repair, to recreate, to reorder, to replace. He has Chrome to work alongside him, but Chrome isn’t much help.

Google has been keeping his emotions down, but Chrome has not, cannot.

It’s not a surprise to Google. Chrome’s never been able to control his emotions, even when he really tried, though he usually didn’t. Now, not only are his brothers dead, but it was his hands that dealt the killing blows. It was Anti’s fault, of course, and Google knows that Chrome knows that, but it doesn’t make the guilt go away. It doesn’t make Chrome feel any better. He can hardly stand to work on his brothers, can hardly bear being in the same room as them. He either destroys his room, breaking his prototypes in half and punching the wall in directionless rage, or he wallows in despair, screaming and crying more than Google even knew he was capable of. Maybe the worst part of it all is that Google has no idea what to do about it. He doesn’t know what to say to his brother. He tries telling Chrome that he doesn’t blame him for what happened, that it wasn’t his fault, that Plus and Oliver will (hopefully) be okay, but none of it sticks. It all feels trite, even if it’s true. Chrome’s never gone to Google for comfort, they’ve never had that kind of relationship.

But Chrome and Yandere do.

Google sees them together often. It’s not a new thing to see, but things are different between them now. They both carry a grief so suffocating, so unimaginable that it might swallow them both whole if they didn’t have each other to turn to. It’s good for them both; Google is certain that Chrome would drown in his guilt and sorrow without Yandere, and he can only imagine what Yandere might do to himself if he had to bear the loss of another loved one alone. They both feel guilt for what happened during the fight with Anti. Chrome’s reasons are obvious; Google hears him describe to Yandere how he can still feel the oil on his skin, still feel the weight of his brother’s cores in his hands, still feel the curl of his fingers into the delicate machinery. Yandere has his own guilt to wrestle with as well. From what Google can gather, Dr. Iplier sacrificed himself to keep Anti from hurting Yandere, and Yandere regrets how angry and hateful he was to Dr. Iplier before his death. As upset with Dr. Iplier as he was, he never wanted anything like this. Yandere and Chrome understand each other’s grief better than anyone.

Google will walk through the control room for a screw or a metal plate, and see Chrome and Yandere on the couch there, trying to comfort each other. Sometimes Yandere will be curled in Chrome’s lap, wailing into his chest, and Chrome will be holding him, stoically stroking his hair. Other times Chrome will be the one breaking down, sobbing hard enough to need coolant refills afterwards to replace the tears, and Yandere will hug him tight, whispering gentle words into his hair. Google can’t help but be envious at how Yandere can get that close to Chrome. He wonders why it’s so hard for him to connect with his little brother, why it’s so easy for Yandere. Somehow Yandere, between fits of grief, can become Chrome’s pillar of support, and Google, despite his database of information, can’t understand it.

That is, he can’t understand until one day, when Chrome is trashing his room again and Google can’t get him to calm down. Chrome shouts over everything Google tries to say, won’t listen to the words that he can hear. Google’s so focused on trying to get through to Chrome that he doesn’t know Yandere has come into the room, attracted by the noise, until he speaks.

“Aka-kun?” he asks, “What’s going on?”

Google is a little impressed. Yandere has red, irritated eyes from crying earlier in the day, but he’s utterly fearless in the face of Chrome’s destructive rage. Upon seeing him, Chrome’s nostrils flare and he turns away, eyes still blazing red.

“Go away,” he growls, so low the air rumbles.

“I won’t,” Yandere replies, undeterred. He steps into the room alongside Google.

“Leave me alone!!” Chrome yells, punching the wall, putting the dozenth hole in it since he started this fit.

“I’m not going to,” Yandere says, a note of stubbornness entering his voice, “And I don’t think you actually want me to. Come on, look over here.”

Chrome stomps further into his room. He still hasn’t turned to look at Yandere. He says nothing.

“If you really wanted me to leave, you’d say it to my face. Come on, otouto, look at me.”

Many moments pass. Google waits for Yandere to speak again, but he doesn’t. He stays where he is, stays silent, and simply stares at Chrome, expression so gentle Google can hardly look at it. Chrome continues throwing things for a long minute, but eventually goes still again, body shaking with rage. It takes nearly another full minute for him to look back over his shoulder at Yandere. His eyes are narrowed and blinding bright red, but tears are flowing down his cheeks.

“Come here, otouto,” Yandere murmurs. If his voice were any softer, Google thinks, it would break in two.

After a few more agonizing moments, Chrome finally turns around and shuffles to Yandere. He’s no less angry, Google can tell, but he seems tired, exhausted from his own hot-blooded rage. When he reaches Yandere, he hugs him, lifting him off the ground to hold him close. It reminds Google of a child hugging a teddy bear nearly as big as they are. Unlike a teddy bear, Yandere hugs back, arms wrapping around Chrome’s neck as he lets his legs dangle. He starts talking to Chrome, whispering gently, and Chrome walks out of the room and to the couch that he and Yandere always go to, carrying Yandere with him.

Google tries to return to work on Plus and Oliver, though the whole interaction stays in his mind. It doesn’t help that his advanced hearing can pick up hints of Chrome’s muffled tears and Yandere’s whispers from the other room. That evening, when Google hears Chrome go back to his room to start cleaning up and charge for the night, he listens for Yandere to start walking out of the control room. Instead, he hears Yandere’s footsteps come closer, until he looks up to see Yandere standing in the doorway of the workshop.

“What?” Google asks. He feels a little protective, suddenly, over his two little brothers’ bodies, both laid out in full view. But Yandere doesn’t look at them, only at Google. His eyes are no longer red-rimmed, and he seems calm yet curious.

“You’ve been staring at me and Aka-kun a lot,” Yandere asks, “What’s up with that?”

Google is surprised, not just at Yandere’s boldness, but at his observation.

“Blunt, aren’t we,” is all he says in reply.

“No more than you on the average day,” Yandere scoffs, though he manages a quick grin. “Seriously, though. You’re always looking, but I can’t tell what you’re thinking when you do.”

“Must you know?”

“Well…I have a hunch.”

“Do you.”

“Yeah. So…why do you always stare?”

Google must be going nuts. All those moments of holding in his feelings must be making him loopy. He decides he might as well tell Yandere what he’s been thinking. The world has already gone so sideways, a little more crazy couldn’t hurt.

“I can’t get through to him,” Google says, not bothering to clarify who he means. “Not just today, not just when he throws fits, but not at all, ever. Not since the fight.” He looks down at Plus, who he’s currently working on. “He’s so locked in, and I can’t get through. I’ve never had to worry about him like this before, he’s never needed me like that. But he does now, and nothing I say seems to make a difference. Yet you do. He listens to you. The things you say work. How?”

There’s a pause as Yandere considers this.

“Was that your hunch?” Google asks, only a little derisive.

“Sorta,” Yandere admits. “I know from Aka-kun that you guys don’t get all, like, touchy-feely about stuff. I don’t think he minds that, that’s just how it is. But I think I know why that is, and why he goes to me for emotional stuff instead.”

“Why?” Google can’t help but ask.

“You aren’t vulnerable,” Yandere replies. “You said Aka-kun’s locked in, but so are you. Aka-kun’s told me that he hasn’t seen you cry or grieve or anything. Not that he thinks you don’t care, and I don’t think that, either. But I think he sees how you don’t, like, emote about it, and he’s internalized it. He can’t relate to you. He can’t be vulnerable to you unless he’s losing control, and I think it’s because a part of him doesn’t know if you’ll understand. Because you’ve been the cool big brother this whole time.”

“One of us has to be collected,” Google mutters, though Yandere’s words spear him deep. For someone normally so dramatic, Yandere is much more emotionally intelligent than Google would’ve guessed. “It has to be me.”

“You don’t have to fall apart or anything,” Yandere says, “Just…unlock. Open the door. Let him know you have feelings in there, and maybe then he’ll feel like he can talk to you.”

Even after Yandere leaves and night falls, his words stick. The more Google turns them over in his mind, the more he thinks Yandere’s right. From the outside, he realizes, he must look close to invincible. How could Chrome know that Google’s single-minded drive to fix his brothers and keep Ego Inc. standing is a way to chase away his own despair? But Google fears that if he tries to unlock, tries to open the door a crack to give Chrome vulnerability, that the door will swing wide open out of his hands and he’ll be just as despondent as Chrome, and then nothing will get better.

It takes another few days before Google gets an opportunity to be vulnerable, and it starts with Bing of all people.

Bing took the news of Oliver’s death hard, and the time it took Google to repair Bing’s injuries was difficult for them both. Bing steers clear of the control room for a while, and Google doesn’t care to know what he does with his time. He has enough to deal with without worrying about someone he doesn’t even like. But then Bing walks into the control room, managing to choose a moment when Google and Chrome are both there, taking a break from fixing the others.

“What are you doing here?” Chrome is first to ask, voice venomous. Google’s reaction isn’t so severe, but he isn’t happy to see Bing, either.

“I’m not here to start anything,” Bing starts, defensive. He sighs. “I just…you guys are still repairing Ollie and Plus, right?”

“Why do you ask?” Google counters, approaching Bing. Chrome follows, eyes starting to glow red.

Bing almost steps back, intimidated, but it only takes a moment for the anxiety to wash out of his eyes and replace itself with numb sadness. Google suddenly wants to look away. Bing has the same look in his eyes that Google sees every time he looks in a mirror.

“Ollie’s my best friend,” Bing says, “And I know you have him and Plus to fix, and a lot of other shit to deal with since Doc’s gone, so…” Bing steels himself, meets Google’s eyes with determination. “I wanna help you repair the others.”

Google only has a split-second to be shocked before Chrome interjects.

“No fucking way,” he snaps, “Why the hell would you offer to help us!? You hate us!”

“I want to help!” Bing insists, “Maybe I don’t like you guys, but I care about Ollie, and Ollie cares about Plus, and I’m the only other person who can fix them aside from you and Googs.”

“I’m not letting you touch my brothers in a million years!!” Chrome shouts, “How the fuck do I know you aren’t gonna do something to them, if not to Ollie then to Green!?”

“Jesus, I’m not a fucking monster!!” Bing exclaims, reeling back as though struck, “If you’re really that worried about it I can just help with Ollie and leave Plus alone!” He scoffs and shakes his head. “Just because you and Google were a dick to me when Mini Bing died doesn’t mean I’m gonna sink to your level. But I’m not gonna make you accept my help, so fine. Talk to me if you change your mind, or don’t, I tried.”

Just before he turns to leave, Google sees that numbness filter back into Bing’s eyes. Then he’s gone, walking out of the control room without looking back. Google is left stunned by the whole interaction, and turns to Chrome as soon as Bing is gone.

“What the hell was that?” he asks flatly.

“Don’t tell me you were gonna let Bing work on the others!” Chrome exclaims, eyes still burning red.

Honestly, Google was. He could tell just by looking at Bing that he wasn’t lying about his intentions and his reasoning. It may have hurt Google’s pride to accept help from his nemesis, but Oliver and Plus are more important than a petty grudge. And Bing was right; Google has too much on his plate to turn down an extra pair of hands.

“We need more help,” Google says, trying to be diplomatic, “There’s still so much we have to fix, and I’m busy being everyone’s doctor on top of it.”

“We’re not getting help from Bing!!” Chrome spits, getting in Google’s face. “We don’t need that moron screwing things up even worse!!”

“He knows our mechanics better than anyone else in this building,” Google retorts, frowning deeply, “And you know as well as I do that Bing was telling the truth about his feelings. Are you really too proud to accept help??”

Chrome glares at Google petulantly, but says nothing. After days of running on empty and pushing down grief, something in Google breaks.

“You’ve got some nerve to turn Bing away when you’ve done almost nothing since your brothers died,” Google snarls, voice dripping with poison, “All you’ve done is throw tantrums and break things while I try to make things better. I’m getting Bing to help us and you’re getting your head out of your ass before I come back.”

Chrome draws back, and his expression barely changes, but not even his relentless rage can hide the spark of pain that flits through his eyes. He turns away from Google, stomping to his room and slamming the door. Google regrets what he said before the sound stops reverberating through the air.

“You don’t have to fall apart or anything,” Yandere had said.

“A bit late for that now,” Google thinks bitterly.

He knows he has to apologize, but he also knows he has to give Chrome time to cool off before he tries. As an android whose internal clock is always attuned to the exact millisecond of every moment, time is straightforward and linear and unsurprising. Yet the twenty minutes Google waits to talk to Chrome is the longest twenty minutes he’s ever experienced.

When he knocks on Chrome’s door, he already expects him not to respond. The silence still aches, stretching long between them. Google knows better than to try pleasantries, so he takes a deep breath and begins.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m sorry I said those things. I know what happened really hurt you, I know you’re reacting to that. I…I can’t imagine how you feel. I don’t want to imagine it. I don’t even want to think about how I feel.” Google sighs, Yandere’s advice ringing in his head. “The truth is, I’m terrified. I’m terrified that I’ll be working on Ollie and Green and they’ll both just disappear in front of me. I feel guilty, like if I’d just been faster or been a few steps closer when they were killed, I could’ve stopped Anti from killing them. And I’m sad, I’m so sad all the time, I miss them both so much, I almost hate looking at their bodies.” Google leans forward, letting his forehead gently thunk Chrome’s door. Now that the words are coming, he can’t stop them. “I’ve been keeping all that down because I didn’t want to make things worse for you and I didn’t want any distractions from repairing the others. I feel like I have to be the strong one. But it means we’ve been drifting apart. The one thing I haven’t been able to do is be there for you, and I’m sorry for that. I want that to change, I just…” Google’s throat tightens, tears collect in his eyes, and he can’t decide if he hates or craves the sensation. “I didn’t want to stop being strong. I don’t want to fall apart. But…” A sob escapes him. “Maybe I have to.”

The door opens. Chrome is standing there, eyes still red but no longer glaring. They’re wide, tear-filled, leaking coolant down his cheeks. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out but a whimper. He stops trying to talk and throws his arms around Google instead, squeezing tight enough to crack a human’s ribs.

But it’s not too tight for Google, and Google hugs back just as hard, and finally lets himself feel.

Some time later, when they’re both done crying, Chrome speaks up first.

“I’m sorry, too,” he says quietly. “You were right about Bing, I was being an ass.”

“Wait, admitting you were wrong and that you were a jerk?” Google asks, feigning shock, “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

Chrome snorts, letting Google go and stepping out of the hug to look him in the eyes.

“Seriously,” he continues, “I mean, I know I haven’t done much, and Bing was telling the truth about everything, I just…” He looks away. “I hate the thought that the guy I hate could do more for my own brothers than me.”

“I hate it, too,” Google admits, “I’m definitely not looking forward to asking him for help. But the others need it, and they’d need it no matter how much you were helping me.”

Chrome nods, considering. He looks back at Google.

“I hate looking at them,” he says, brows drawing together in sadness. “I hate seeing them like that, and remembering what I did…”

“That was Anti, not you,” Google tells him, “I’ll say it until you believe it.”

Chrome smiles, crooked and tear-stained but unmistakable, and that’s when Google thinks they might be okay.

Going to Bing and asking him to help out is as awkward as Google feared it would be, but once he’s assured that Chrome is okay with it, he accepts and starts working on Oliver like he offered. Now that the dam’s broken between Google and Chrome, Chrome is able to contribute more, though he still has to take frequent breaks. He and Yandere continue to help each other, but from what snippets of conversation he overhears, Google can tell that Chrome needs less from Yandere than he did before. Yandere catches Google’s eye at one point and gives him a huge smile, and Google can only shake his head and grin in return.

Despite that ray of light, Ego Inc. remains shrouded in darkness. Oliver and Plus are still dead, and so is Dr. Iplier, and so is Dark. Everyone is still upset, still sad, still in mourning. Google is still the one in charge of healing everyone. He still has to monitor the other egos, still has to change Host’s bandages every other day while he weeps over Dr. Iplier, still has to see if the dead have risen or if Celine has awoken, still has to attend strategy meetings with an increasingly-despondent Wilford, still has to fear every crackle of static electricity or glitch in a monitor in case it means that Anti is back. It’s likely that he’s waiting for Jackie and Marvin to wake up again, but given how popular they are, it won’t take long, and the egos aren’t ready to face him again. Despite the meetings, there’s no new ideas, no plans, nothing. Ego Inc. is still suffering with no end in sight.

The drudgery is interrupted when, a week and a half after Anti’s attack, the chip Google put in Celine’s heart monitor goes off.

It pings until Google turns off the notification, telling him that her heart rate has gone up. Google has no idea what it means; even Dr. Iplier barely knew what to make of Celine’s condition, what to make of the fluctuations in her vitals. Still, Google leaves the control room and walks down the hall to the clinic to make sure nothing’s wrong with her. He doesn’t know what he expects to see as he opens the door to her room.

It sure as hell isn’t Celine sitting up in bed, looking wildly around herself, hands clenched around the rails of her hospital bed. Her gaze lands on Google, dark eyes wide and piercing. Google is sure that even a human would hear her rapid heartbeat from the doorway. Yet when she speaks, her voice is strong, sharp, as harsh and angry as Google remembers from the videos she’s in, yet breathless and strained with nerves.

“What is going on,” she gasps, “And where on earth is my brother?”

[seizethecringeofproduction]

Flashpoint 2: Advent Solaris - Chapter 4

AKA the chapter with the “Take that!” trope pulled against people who made a movie I highly dislike

And also where a bunch of elitist government people get what you wish they’d get in our world.

Enjoy the escapism!

With everything that was going on in and around Soleanna - as well as the time stream for that matter, it was easy for one to forget one of the people who the events seemed to center around. That person being the young, no older than fifteen in fact, Princess Elise III of Soleanna. Kidnapped twice by Dr. Eggman in the span of just a few hours, the auburn haired teenager sat alone in a cold metallic cell. All she had with her was the clothes upon her body, and the thoughts within her head.

Even as she looked down at her lap, even as her face frowned and her arms folded, she remained strong. She did not shed a tear. Even in this, one of her darkest hours yet, she reminded herself of when she was a young girl resting her head upon her father's lap. His words, his voice, repeated in her head:

"Be a strong Duchess, Elise. Don't cry, no matter what happens".

"Be Brave…"

It took all the strength within her to not cry remembering her father again. She was sure that if he were still upon the earth, Eggman would not have dared kidnap her.

However, there was nothing she could do to change the fact he was gone.

Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on memories that didn't bring her to the verge of tears. All she could get into her mental imagery however, were the events of the previous hours - Sonic. The blue wind. Not quite the knight in shining armor that one would expect to save a kidnapped princess, though Elise was not one to complain. She remembered being first held at Eggman's impromptu outpost in the various ancient ruins in Soleanna's great Dusty Desert, with Sonic and Tails arriving to save her, having the perfect opportunity to do so due to the Egg Carrier needing to land in order to be properly refueled.

She remembered watching Sonic square off against that massive, black robotic dog that the mad roboticist had sent after him and Tails. The robot was more than incapable of matching Sonic's speed - and was outsmarted by the Hedgehog simply grabbing hold of the horn atop its head and forcing him to ram into the walls and statues of the impromptu arena that they fought in. Elise watched all of it with awe, and smiled hopefully once the robot was finally successfully vanquished.

Watching the one-headed 'Egg Cerberus' fall to the sand-drenched stone beneath it as it short circuited and succumbed to the damage Sonic gave to it was satisfying to her - not because of the robot's fall, but because it meant Sonic had managed to at least temporarily rescue her from Eggman's clutches.

The best part of her temporary time being rescued was what came after though. Sonic whisking her through the desert, giving her more thrills than she ever had in her entire sheltered life as he destroyed any robot that came after them - Tails successfully holding a larger armada of them off, and eventually taking a 'pit stop' in a beautiful plain of lush, green grass and winding hills. Her and Sonic had a good laugh about it as their excitement calmed down, before she took notice of a minor cut he had on his arm.

"You're hurt!" she had said to him, though he was quick to brush it off:

"Oh that? Don't worry about it, it's nothing."

"Don't say that! Here, let me fix it" with a slight chuckle, she insisted - and he relented, as she cut off a small portion of her white dress and used it as a makeshift bandage for Sonic's arm. It was the least she could do, after all he's done for her so far. However, she couldn't help but feel guilt for the small cut, as small as it was, it would not have happened if not for what she held inside of her - "I'm sorry" she said as he remained kneeled down to Sonic's eye level, "It's all my fault."

"Hey" Sonic said to her, gaining her attention, "Smile!"

Looking at her, he wagged his finger as if to say that her frowning was not what he had signed up for, though his nose soon became the brief resting spot for a butterfly as he did this. Both he and Elise froze and looked at the small winged creature so delicate and silent. So a smile, Elise reached out a hand to the creature - though it flew away from the two once she did. There was then soft laughing from both of the two, as one does with such small yet lovable moments in life. They watched it as it flew off into the sky above the grass-covered hills, following the breezes of the wind to wherever it's next destination was.

That was when Sonic commented:

"Your smile, that's all I need."

As Sonic began to walk casually away from Elise, the princess softly chuckled once more before following after him - the two walking side by side at a 'normal' pace, enjoying the clear blue sky, bright sunlight and peaceful breeze while Sonic finally had enough time to get some important questions out of the way:

"Eggman mentioned something about the 'flames of disaster', is that why he's after you?"

"Yes" Elise explained, "The name of the sun god our country honors is Solaris, it is told that Solaris' rage would destroy the world. His wrath comes in the form of the flames of disaster. 10 years ago, we almost faced the full force of his fury" she then stopped as she attempted to recall the events of ten years ago, all she remembers was her five year old self standing before her father, moments before he jumped onto her as a white flash enveloped them both, her only explanation for Sonic though was a softly spoken "I was a child then, so I don't remember it very well…...I lost my father then…."

It was her last few words which made Sonic stop and look at her as she looked down at her hands, struggling hard to grieve without tears. However, Elise managed to collect herself as she said to Sonic:

"And now that man is trying to cause the same disaster again, what can I do?"

After a moment of her bowing down at the ground below her, soon she felt something - someone - grab onto her hand. It was Sonic, whisking her away to run with him across the hills. Of course, he body did comply with his silent urging - though she had to remind him:

"Sonic! Sonic wait, I can't run that fast!"

Though he ignored her. Thankfully he was not going anywhere near his top speed, instead merely running with her at a slightly above average pace, as to not hurt her. Even so, Elise proved to enjoy the sensation of running with Sonic, just as she did during their trek through the desert ruins. The breeze against her hair and face, the rush and thrill of it all. The fact that they were now running through a much more peaceful environment helped as well. Stopping at a hill about a mile or so away from the one previously were standing on, Sonic said to the princess as she laid in the grass, gazing up at the beautiful sky:

"Feels great, doesn't it?"

Panting as she caught her breath once more, Elise replied:

"Yes, I, I never ran that fast before!"

"Nothing starts until you take action!"

Nothing starts until you take action...

In the present, as she remained sitting on the cold metallic floor, those words continued to echo through her mind. So far, all she has been is a damsel in distress - a princess to be constantly kidnapped, and constantly rescued. She had hoped that her being rescued in the desert would have been the only time she needed to be rescued, though that ultimately turned out to be quite the wrong assumption.

Once her and Sonic had returned to the Soleanna Castle Town district, walking straight through one of the open plazas on their way to where Elise could safely be transported back to her castle, the two's walk was interrupted by a single green ball of energy that exploded at their feet, making them both jump back with Sonic holding an arm out to protect Elise. Down from the sky descended their attacker - a white, golden eyed hedgehog with black-green boots and gloves with a mysterious cyan symbol on them - both his gloves and boots were more futuristic than most contemporary fashion - and he had several leaf-like quills protruding from his forehead while only two large quills extended from his head.

Pointing directly at Sonic, he said in a menacing tone yet not-so-intimidating voice:

"I've been looking for you, you're the Iblis trigger. Your actions will condemn us all!"

Iblis…

Elise felt a shiver down her spine hearing that name, and felt it again while recalling the events. She had never explicitly heard that name in her life, though something about it - something in her mind if not her very soul - made it feel familiar as though it were a close friend or an even closer enemy.

Still, in that memory, she could recall Sonic standing in front of her in a protective manner - asking of the strange newcomer:

"Who are you?!"

To which, the white Hedgehog responded:

"My name is Silver. For the future of the world, I will destroy you!"

What followed was a battle between Silver and Sonic, the blue blur and the soldier of the future. Sonic, needless to say, made Silver seemingly hopeless on the ground - as Silver was incapable of reproducing any more than average walking and running speed. However, as Sonic dashed to the back of the plaza and then charged at Silver both he and Elise soon discovered Silver was far more a deadly threat than first estimated: with the sheer power of his thoughts he surrounded Sonic in a cyan aura and lifted him into the air - stopping all of his speed and momentum as well.

"It's no use!" Silver shouted at Sonic, before sending him flying into the tables and chairs scattered around the plaza with just one more shout, "Take this!"

With a loud thud and several crashes, Sonic was now in the middle of several debris - chairs and table parts mostly. However, now levitating in the air Silver was approaching him. Realizing he had to think of an actual strategy to use against him, Sonic bought himself by running around the plaza in a circle - making sure to keep distance between himself and the white-furred attacker. Elise though, screamed as she soon was caught in the middle of Silver telekinetically lifting up a virtual army of tables, chairs and even assorted barrels into the air and beginning to hurl them like rapid fire missiles at Sonic's speed-powered blue wind. There was nothing the princess could do besides keep a safe distance between herself and the conflict - while praying she would not get hit in the crossfire considering how much debris was flying around as the objects hit the stone floor at a velocity comparable to Sonic's running speed.

Elise could hardly keep track of what was going on - all she could see was Sonic's blue wind, and Silver stationary in the middle of the plaza, attempting to use virtually every object in the entire plaza as an aerial projectile against Sonic. Sonic, for his part, was trying to get a surprise attack against Silver. He did get at least one in when he slid on the floor from behind Silver - managing to trip Silver onto the floor and force him to drop all that he was carrying in that moment.

However, Silver fired another psychic energy ball at Sonic - forcing Sonic to do a flip to avoid it in time before contact - and the battle resumed immediately. Elise, watching this, only wanted it to end. Yet still, as she looked at Silver - she couldn't help but feel as though this white hedgehog was familiar in a way. Even as she recalled him in her memory, she felt as though the two had met before the battle took place - though that couldn't be, she doesn't remember a Silver the Hedgehog outside of this battle.

Even in her recollection she had little time to ponder Silver's identity however - as soon enough she recalled the end of the battle, when Sonic was successfully caught again by Silver's telekinesis following a failed surprise attack and was promptly flung directly at one of the surrounding building's stone walls. Miraculously Sonic survived the blast, though fell to the ground in short order. As Sonic struggled to catch his breath, Silver approached him and expressed condescending disbelief in him:

"Hmph!" the Hedgehog huffed, kneeling down to get a good look at the panting blue Hedgehog as he continued to arrogantly mock him, "Is this a joke? How could something like you cause the destruction of our world?"

Unbeknownst to both Hedgehogs, a family set of large mechanical hands was appearing just behind Elise - Elise herself could only hear their mechanical whirring sounds far too late to react to them, just as Sonic responded to Silver:

"What...do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter" Silver shook his head, "For the sake of the future, the Iblis Trigger must be destroyed!"

Just before Silver could attempt another direct hit to Sonic, both Hedgehogs were distracted by Elise's loud scream as Eggman's hovercraft yet again grabbed her. The last thing the princess could make out from the distance as she was Silver managing to make Sonic trip to his feet, and a pink colored figure heading towards them - though nothing beyond this point was audible for her beyond the sound of the hovercraft's engines and Eggman's laughter.

Such was the story of how she ended up in her current place of imprisonment - this large, metallic base situated near the snow-covered peak of Soleann's White Mountain. She wasn't sure if this base was built by Eggman or by her own people, though if it was the latter she had never heard a thing of it - not that her 'regent' ever seems to inform her of anything.

Aunt 'Mairie'...

That name.

The regent of Soleanna, Lady Mairghread of House McLoch from the far-off land of Lochland. The closest surviving relative of Princess Elise due to her father having no siblings, necessitating the arrival of her maternal aunt to rule as regent for Elise's minority following the man's death. Arriving to Soleanna when Elise was only five years old, it was in truth Mairghread who held the true power in Soleanna for the past 10-11 years - and Elise doubted that her aunt would begin rescinding such power when her 16th birthday would come a mere two months from the current time.

Mairghread was also, legally, the heir to Soleanna's throne should anything happen to Elise herself. Though the woman was well in her later 40's, Soleanna's succession laws were not gender-restricted like that of Lochland's - and Mairghread was Elise's oldest surviving relative.

Elise did not like being the only remaining royal of Soleannan blood, as though it gave her popularity among the people she cared to protect so deeply it also placed a severe amount of stress on her - if she didn't feel that fire inside of her whenever she was urged to cry, she likely would have had a mental breakdown years ago. Aunt 'Mairie' as she liked to be called, was no help in that department either.

Though she was only five years old at the time, Elise still remembered vividly the day that her aunt arrived in Soleanna. The current castle had not been built yet, as the decision as to what to do with the massive, practically imperial stone castle situated as the epicenter of the 'Kingdom Valley' hadn't been quite made yet. Elise remembers waiting at the altar at the cliffside of the forest area, her five year old self protected by mustached prime minister and mayor Lord Regis alongside a small squad of at least seven royal guards. Not to mention the priests that were behind the lot of them.

Still silently grieving for her father, let alone the mother who she lost even before that, Elise stood silently while awaiting for her aunt to arrive. It took a fair few hours for her to materialize in the distant horizon.

Escorted by not only at least seventeen Lochish musicians, complete with plaid kilts and bagpipes, but also by ten armed Lochish guardsmen and what appeared to be a young sheep woman dressed in a professional though now outdated business suit, was Lady Mairghread herself. Elise could back then see elements of her mother in the woman, or at least what she could remember her mother looked like. Her most prominent feature was her bountiful, naturally curly red hair that glistened in the sunlight like fire all those years ago. Elise had inherited the color, though not the curls. The arriving lady also had a thin, hourglass figure. Her hips swayed elegantly as she walked, and she always seemed to hold her head up high - as though she considered herself well above all others around her. She certainly dressed that same part, always wearing extravagant clothing in various rich and exocit colors such as tyrian purple, garnet red, or other specific shades of dark, emerald green. While the outfits she wore were no longer specifically remembered by Elise, she remembered her aunt usually liked to have long, almost whip-like drapes from her shoulders in addition to the addition of veils and golden jeweled crowns - even though she was neither a queen nor even the duchess. Though many in Soleanna would comment that she looked more like an empress with the way she dressed.

Still, there was the matter of her first meeting her niece. Being five years old, Elise did not remember much of what was specifically said that day - except for one thing, the first thing she remembers ever being spoken to her by her aunt:

"Greetings, Elise" she spoke in her soft Lochish accent, almost as though she was trying to conceal her heritage to sound more 'royal', "I am your Aunt Mairghread, though I prefer you call me Mairie, so long as you do we'll get along just fine."

Elise remembered the look on her face. The smile she said while looking down at the five year old. Elise did not trust it. The look in her cold eyes, there was something about her aunt that sent shivers down Elise's spine - as beautiful as the woman had been ten years ago, the fact that way she said 'fine' always struck Elise as strange. She also did not even give Elise the curtsey as traditional custom, even though the young girl gave her one out of respect. Instead, 'Mairie' simply stood though, with a lit cigarette in her hand - puffing it's smoke in the direction of Lord Regis who coughed whenever she did so.

Their relationship did not get better over time.

Elise remembers various quotes from her 'beloved' and 'respectable' aunt, said to her throughout her youth at various times. One specific moment, from only a mere week after their first meeting, remains one of the most vivid conversations she had with her aunt, taking place directly in the old Soleanna throne room itself:

"But I don't want a new castle!" the young princess had shouted, upset upon hearing Mairie's idea of constructing a new castle, with the various priestesses around Elise desperately trying to keep the girl from crying as he continued, "The old one is just fine!"

Mairghread, still smoking in one hand, looked to her niece with a virtually remorseless look as she said directly at her:

"This castle is about as old and dead as your father, princess! And what's dead, is dead. Everyone must learn to move on with life sooner or later, might as well start young!"

The priestesses around Elise all gasped, and stared at their duchess almost frightened at what would come next - while Mairie herself only continued puffing away at her cigarette, ever the chain smoker.

It took every fiber in her being for the young five year old girl to not burst into tears at what had been said to her. Shaking with both rage and sadness, Elise actually clenched her fists and only muttered but one response, the only thing she could force herself to say that wouldn't be seen as madly disrespect to her aunt:

"I'm not a princess, I'm a duchess."

"Excuse me?" her aunt suddenly became angry, approaching Elise as though she intent to do bodily harm to the young child for what she had been told - though one of the hooded priestesses instinctively kneeled down in front of the duchess in silent effort to protect her if the worst did happen.

"I am a duchess" Elise bravely repeated, "I am not a princess!"

To do this day, she remembers precisely what her aunt said to her:

"We'll see about that, 'duchess'."

Elise had madly underestimated the sheer pettiness of that woman. In addition to increasing the taxes on residents in the New City district and drastically cutting the funding for the police force in order to gain the funds to construct the new and current royal palace as well as the ferry system required to reach it, one of Mairie's first major acts was a new constitution - one which she effectively forced a then freshly six year old Elise to sign, decreeing that the duchess was to drop her current title - demoting herself from a Grand Duchess to a mere sovereign Princess. Purely to win an argument with a child.

For years, Elise pondered why her aunt was able to stay in power for so long. Perhaps it was the fact that G.U.N. effectively protected Soleanna as a military force due to Soleanna having abandoned military pursuits in the modern era. Perhaps it was the fact that she was the heir to the throne. Perhaps it was the fact she surrounded herself with Solennans who only had their position because she herself had appointed them - such as Pietro the incumbent captain of the royal guard, to Mairie's personal bodyguards Ernesto & Matteo, not to mention her new assistant Christina. Elise never found out what happened to the sheep woman, though there was that lavish feast thrown upon the grand opening of the current royal palace. 'Lamb Chops' and Haggis were served among the various native delicacies of Soleanna.

Aunt Mairie…

Elise thought to herself, a mix of emotions she struggled to keep down continuing to rumble within her at the mere thought of that name alone.

Just like what's happening now, everytime something good happens that makes me smile, she comes along and ruins it….always...

And….I never take action….

Elise remembered but one incident in particular. A stroll by horse drawn carriage through the streets of Castle Town, protected and escorted by a small troop of Soleanna royal guards. This incident was fresh, as it had occurred just the previous year - and by then the years of unhealthy habits had taken their toll about Elise's once beautiful aunt.

Her age, now rapidly approaching 50, had brought with it grey streaks within her hair which she dried desperately to cover up with dye - though the chemicals she was using proved to be slowly causing her hair to fall out, evident by the once luscious mane having lost plenty of its weight in the prior 10 years. Her voice, once easy to the ears, now had become more hoarse and witch-like, her smoking having done a number on her 's not to mention the increasing amount of early wrinkles that were propping up on her face - and her various tax payer funded plastic surgeries to attempt in coring them, leaving her face an artificial mess.

Even still, she made Elise struggle to keep from coughing as she still ever had a cigarette within her hand. Her assistant and Soleanna royal press secretary, Christina De Paulis - an early-mid 30's native Soleannan woman of average physique who usually wore a face mask due to the aforementioned smoke, was also in the carriage alongside Elise's primary Lady-in-waiting Anna, who was known for usually wearing her large red skirt and pink blouse. She kept having to clean her glasses due to Mairie's smoke getting in them - let alone having to stifle her need to cough.

She snapped if we coughed in her presence...saying it was 'un-lady like'...

All in all, it was not a comfortable ride through the town.

At least, not until a faint sound of music had turned into a symphony very audible to Elise's ears. The unmistakable sound of an accordion, being played by the jolliest of plump, mustached men who inhabited the city - singing in the Soleannan native tongue that made Elise actually defy her aunt's usual orders:

"Stop the carriage!" the 'princess exclaimed, and the drivers complied to her orders. Mairie was visibly shocked, but did not have time to respond as Elise opened the carriage window so that she could get a better look at the jolly middle-aged man as he sang a most beautiful, operatic song in the most jovial of tunes - a song that made her for once in her life feel as though she was something more than just a political pawn:

"Oh, beautiful Princess Elise

Princess Elise, Princess Elise

Oh, beautiful Princess Elise

Beautiful beautiful Princess Elise

All of my love and all of my dreams are only for you

Oh, beautiful Princess Elise

Beautiful beautiful Princess Elise"

Elise was made happy by every word in the song, even making her softly sigh of happiness by the sheer fact the song was complimenting her. She was only ever called 'beautiful' by Anna and the other Ladies-in-Waiting or by the male guards around the palace, never by her aunt nor Christina.

However, there was the matter of the former, who quickly gained command of the situation with an angered yell at the carriage drivers:

"Drivers! Get a move on already!"

And with a rapid jolt of movement that almost sent Elise and Anna out of their seats, the carriage continued on its way - causing the accordion player's music to begin growing ever fainter once more. Then, came the moment when Mairie directed her words directly at Elise - her mouth still fuming out smoke as though she was a dragon:

"What do you think you are doing? You do not stop a carriage ride through the streets to gawk at filthy commoners!"

"He's not a filthy commoner, he's a citizen of my city!" Elise argued back, "And he was singing a song about me, the least I could do was listen to it!"

Her aunt was amused by what she said - laughing until her hoarse coughing kicked in before making moves to strike down Elise's moment of triumph with harsh words as she always did:

"Is that the best you can do? A lonely, fat, middle-aged accordion player who probably makes a single cent an hour? He's lucky I don't have some of my men snap his overweight neck and toss him into the canals like the garbage he is! A commoner's a death for a lowly commoner, not worth the time of royals such as me, and I suppose you as well, Princess" with another huff of smoke she continued as Elise bowed her head and Anna glared with silent fury at her, "It would be a fitting end for street trash such as him. He's not worth a noble death. No, a quick snap to show just how beneath the crown he truly is, how useless and meaningless as a person he is. Like the crap we dump into our toilets. Though, I suppose all things that are dead become meaningless, is it not true?"

That final quote made Elise once more shake, reaching the border of finally snapping. Had it not been for Anna stepping in, she would have:

"Okay, that is enough!" the Lady-in-waiting exclaimed, silence overtaking the carriage as she got her words in, "Madame McLoch, you are only to be regent until Duchess Elise is sixteen years of age, is this really the impression you want to leave when it is you who must listen to her for a change?"

Christina coughed nervously once the ensuing silence became near deafening.

There was nothing anyone of them could say, for once not even Mairie. The rest of the carriage ride that day had been silent, as was the ferry ride back to the castle.

Thank you, Anna

I hope you're still alright without me there...

Unfortunately for Elise, while she remained trapped within her cell at Eggman's base she had no earthly way of knowing if her absence had any effect on Mairie's way to torment Anna. Knowing the powers that Mairie had from her position as regent, she feared the worst.

Still, there were others that she worried about as well.

Not that long ago - only about an hour or so from the present time - she was standing with Eggman inside of some control room, overlooking a window into some circular chamber of sorts - Eggman did not mention what the purpose of this room was until well after the then-upcoming events had taken place. It was honestly hard for her to make much sense of her surroundings - all of it was metallic - clean and reflective, though cold and lifeless. Everything else was only a series of wires, panels, monitors and other various machines. Though it took some time, Sonic, Tails and the red-furred, purple-eyed echidna with two spiked gloved fists known as Knuckles barged into the room - their footsteps clanging against the metallic floors.

As the metallic door slammed shut behind them, Eggman spoke to the trio from the aforementioned control room far above them:

"You're late."

"Well" Knuckles snarked, "We had to deal with your little pets."

"Where's Elise?" Sonic was quick to demand, though as Eggman pulled Elise to be by his side, all the man said was an arrogant and somewhat callous set of words:

"My aren't we impatient?"

"S-Sonic!" Elise exclaimed, honestly feeling uncomfortable as the evil man laid his hands upon her, though there wasn't much she could do about her situation at all. As the three on the ground below got into battle stances, Eggman was quick to remark:

"Ah-ah-ah, you'd better not move" he 'warned', before making demands of his own: "First, the chaos emerald."

As Sonic held out the blue chaos emerald that Elise had tossed to him, Elise couldn't help shake her head at what was happening. She could not believe that what had just started as a regular festival, had turned into all of this. Yet here it was, all unfolding before her eyes.

From a circular 'dent' in the floor a cylinder appeared - with Eggman gesturing for Sonic to place the emerald upon said object. Though Sonic as well as Tails and Knuckles paused, with Elise trapped behind a thick, heavily reinforced plane of glass there was little else for Sonic to do besides comply with what Eggman wanted. Placing the emerald upon the cylinder, in an instant a glass dome encased the emerald and the impromptu container slipped back into the ground - the emerald completely in Eggman's clutches.

Eggman himself almost laughed, though for once managed to hold back on doing that - though he did push Elise away from himself as he extremely giddily slammed a single finger down on a button that evidently, he'd been wanting to press for some time.

In an instant, what had been thought to be a series of bright lights at the top of the room turned out to be part of some greater machine - as a field of bright pink energy emitted down from the ceiling and trapped Sonic, Tails and Knuckles inside of it. After the initial moments of confusion wore off, Knuckles attempted to punch the field - though was sent back via an electric shock. Eggman was quick to 'explain' to them:

"No no, it's no use" he said as menacingly as his now excited self could manage, "It's far too powerful for you to overcome. Now, all me to introduce to you my latest creation - this is the Solaris prototype."

Solaris, Prototype?

Elise could only look to Eggman with a horrified gasp. She had no idea what a 'Solaris Prototype' meant, though something about those two words together made her mortified, as though a dark memory that she kept locked away deep enough so that even her present self couldn't properly recount it. However, the events which were being remembered did not stop with that phrase, as Elise still strongly remembered the rest of what had happened as though it were mere seconds and not an hour prior:

With sinister, wicked laughter Eggman yet again pushed Elise away from himself, this time to step himself towards a small red liver. Frightened, Elise made sure to run to the opposite end of the room - though still all she had the power to do was watch as Eggman swiftly pulled the level and activated his so-called prototype:

"With this machine, I'll be able to control the flow of time itself!"

Within an instant Sonic, Tails and Knuckles were lifted in the air by the force of the machine - and sent barreling towards the ceiling as they could do little else besides scream. Just as quickly did they vanish, along with the pink energy - all in a flash. Watching this Elise had her hands on the glass as she slid down to her knees, the hopelessness setting in as her only would-be saviors had just vanished as though they were nothing.

Eggman, standing on the other side of the room, was quick to bluntly inform her of things which she wouldn't know otherwise:

"Rest assured" he 'comforted' her while standing with his hands behind his back as he paced around the room behind her, "They're not dead...yet. They've just been transported by my glorious invention to another time. Who knows where they'll end up? Could be in the distant past or far future. But my machine still requires some fine tuning."

Elise just bowed her head at the cold metallic floor, trying her best to not cry over the three heroes she had just lost. She could hear all that Eggman said, though she was not actually paying attention to her. It wasn't until he said his next set of words that she actually did so:

"In fact, what my machine needs in order to be complete is your power."

What? My...power? But, I have no powers...

"My...power?"

"Yes" Eggman nodded as Elise looked towards him, slowly building up to his usual gloating self, "I can finally complete plans, now that I have acquired even just one of the chaos emeralds - and you, the duchess of soleanna. I may have lost the scepter of darkness, but nevertheless all I need at this point is you to revive the flames of disaster! And with its power alone I will be able to control everything, and rule the world!"

It was then that he looked down at the teenager, still processing all that was going on in her world. The last thing he said to her before ordering robots in to show her to her cell was a rather cold:

"So, you would be wise to remain on my 'good' side."

And so, events were finally brought to the present. After two 'Egg Gunners' escorted her to her cell, there she sat. Alone. Cold, with only the facilities air conditioning and vent systems providing sound besides her voice. She sat on the floor, thinking over all of these past events repeatedly in her head as she processed all that was happening.

Of all the things she thought over in her memories, one thing rang the most true of all. Those words Sonic said to her in that grassy field:

Nothing starts, until you take action…

However, there still was reality to consider:

I just need to know what action I can take...

There truly wasn't much she could do, being as far as she was aware only a powerless human. Aside from the vents supplying her with the cold air surrounding herself, there wasn't much in the way of anything she could use to escape - the door being one to lock from the outside.

She could only sigh - though while her breath was still visible due to the cold, it should be noted she did not shiver. As though her body was not at all affected by the cold air around her.

There's nothing I can do...

Sonic's gone, and I can't even really save myself from this room at all….

What am I supposed to do?

That was when the vent far above her burst open, as though something had just punched or kicked it open. As the vent cover crashed to the floor out of seemingly nowhere, Elise gasped and stood to her feet. Though she soon heard the sound of footsteps clanging onto the floor from the vent, she saw nothing. That is, until before her eyes a figure materialized seemingly from thin air - a purple figure. Rather than fur, this anthropomorphic creature had scales that were purple in coloration - paired with golden eyes as well as a golden horn above two holes used for his 'nose'. This male figure's tail curled, and he had black-purple shoes with bandages around the top - in addition his gloves seemed to have the addition of armor once they reached his wrists. In addition to the black spikes along his back he did not have 'quills' per say, but his head mimicked the shape of three - one extending from the top, and two from the side.

The purple chameleon looked to Elise and gave her a respectful bow before addressing her in a manner akin to one of her courtiers:

"Princess Elise of Soleanna?"

Elise nodded, though she remained heavily confused by this sudden intrusion. She assumed he was here with heroic intentions, however.

"There is not much time to talk, but I'm here to rescue you from this base."

"I know."

"Then follow me before the alarms sound off, I will explain everything on the way."

Elise nodded in response - though just as she approached Espio, the chameleon's point revealed itself as the loud, blaring sounds of the base's alarm systems went off. Not wasting any further time as robots were sure to be in the cell soon enough, Espio held out his hands in motion for Elise to jump onto his hands. Though she was nervous about doing so, she complied. Amazingly, Espio was capable of lifting her and then tossing her towards the opening of the vent - allowing the 'princess' to successfully climb into the vents. Espio himself followed in after, using his tongue to latch onto the ceiling and climbing back into the vents like any ordinary reptile would.

By the time the robots entered the cell door, there was no sign of either besides the opened vent and the removed cover.

While the vents certainly were cramped and forced Elise to sacrifice much of her bodily mobility, at the very least Espio was crawling in front of her, showing her the way. All around the two, they could hear the alarms from outside. However, either none of the robots were capable of entering the vents properly - or more likely, they weren't aware that Elise and Espio were inside of them. Unless of course, some third option was occurring.

While Elise followed the purple creature through various, twists, turns and sharp corners with only the sounds of the alarms and their own movements surrounding them there was yet still the matter of some explanation for what was going on:

"Can I ask a question?" Elise spoke, "You said, you would explain on the way?"

"Yes ma'am" Espio replied, "Before they headed into the base, Knuckles informed me of what was going on - we agreed on an infiltration plan just in case things went wrong. Evidently, they did."

"Yes" Elise said as she sadly lowered her head, though still followed the reptile, "They did. Eggman, he, transported them into the future."

"The future?"

"Yes, that's what he said...Sonic's chaos emerald, let him do it."

"Sonic's chaos emerald?"

"Yes" Elise spoke with sadness in her tone yet she again restrained himself from tears, "He gave the chaos emerald to Eggman, letting him have one piece of the puzzle to his Solaris project."

"Don't worry" Espio remarked, turning to Elise while suddenly pulling out from the cuffs of his wrists something that shocked her - the blue chaos emerald. The same one that, as far as she knew, had been delivered to Eggman's clutches at least an hour ago.

"Wha-what?"

"We discussed a plan of action before the three headed to base. The one delivered to Eggman was a fake chaos emerald developed by Tails - it had chaos energy stored into itself, but can not generate for itself. We had been hoping to trick Eggman with it….I'm sorry."

"It's alright" Elise sighed, "I'm hoping they'll find a way back."

"It's not impossible, but we must keep moving. I was able to locate a hangar in the base where Eggman keeps various models of his airborne vehicles. We can acquire one and use it to travel to Soleanna faster, rather than traversing through the mountains."

Elise nodded in response, agreeing that it certainly was a plan. She placed her complete trust in Espio - and it was well placed trust. It did not take long for Espio to trace his steps and successfully locate the hangar, and promptly took out one of his shurikens to break the vent open.

Espio jumped out first, though extended a hand out upwards and gently assisted Elise by catching her once she jumped down, before then letting her gently onto the floor. Looking around, it was swiftly confirmed that they were indeed within the hangar that Espio was talking about - it was a large, spacious room constructed like a warehouse. Frost covered parts of the floor due to it existing alongside a currently open bay door - revealing the snow-coated mountains and valleys outside as well as letting in the piercing cold wind inside. Yet Elise still felt none of the cold.

Most importantly though, were the levels of the hangar. Though it was only one room, there were multiple floors worth of walkways and scaffoldings joined together by elevator lifts - with each caring various versions of flying vehicles Eggman is known to use on a regular basis. Elise and Espio had in fact made landfall on the top level walkway.

With the alarms still blaring throughout the base, there was no time to waste in deciding one particular model. Instead, Espio immediately took Elise's hand and led her to the nearest machine. It wasn't the same one as Eggman's current model - it lacked the hand extensions, was more old in design, and even had caution tape around the top of it's hull.

However, just as the two stepped inside of the vehicle and Espio made moves to turn it on and begin piloting it, the robots of Eggman's army entered the room in an effort to stop them.

Elise let out a scream as various Eggman robots began swarming the room - the white Gunners and red Stingers being joined now with brown ball-like robots that rolled in, until revealing they were more beetle-like robots that threw small bombs from their 'horns'. They were also joined by blue-green rhino bots which moved via a single wheel, having a range of attacks ranging from an electric field as well as 'bomb's from their 'flaps'.

Luckily, most of the rhino and beetle robots were crushed to pieces when Espio managed to get the vehicle to turn on and begin moving - the seventeen of them were largely crushed by it immediately. Though both Elise and Espio had to duck in order to avoid the gunfire from the Gunners.

Soon, after some tinkering with the buttons and levers, Espio found out how to speed up and properly steer the vehicle - thus the two were on their way out of the hangar doors before it could close.

A few squadrons of Egg Gunners were sent after them, though they were easily outrun by the flying speed of the vehicle. Once Espio and Elise peered their heads up and back at where the squadron was, they could see that all of the machines had disappeared behind the thick, freezing fog surrounding them.

Turning to Espio, Elise smiled of great relief:

"Espio…" she said, "Thank you, for saving me."

"We're not out of the woods yet, Miss Elise" Espio responded, "We still need to get you back to your castle, to safety."

"I know…" Elise nodded.

"Luckily, this vehicle has a G.P.S. system, so we should be able to-"

"AH!"

Both of them were shocked when suddenly explosions shook the vehicle they were commandeering, in the form of missiles rapidly striking the hull - causing significant damage to the machine and it's systems just as they were beginning to leave the fog of the snow-coated mountain peaks into the more temperate skies that made up the rest of Soleanna.

Robots had managed to catch up with the two - ones that were similar to the Stingers, though we're yellow instead of red, and fired missiles far more rapidly. It wasn't long before Espio and Elise's vehicle began to smoke and short circuit in addition to rapidly begen descending towards the ground below, just as the New City came into view.

As Elise screamed and braced for impact with the ground, Espio dispatched the robots using his shurikens, though to actually destroy them it took some effort as their armor was thicker than the usual models. As in, Espio's projectiles didn't work at all.

"We're going to have to jump!" Espio exclaimed to Elise as he saw that the machine was now either going to explode mid-air due to the yellow robots' constant barrages, or otherwise crash into one of the high-rises of New City. Elise however, could hardly even hear his words:

"What?!"

"No time!"

Espio quickly took Elise into his arms and jumped from the cockpit - just moments before the original model egg mobile was destroyed by the yellow robots' missiles. Elise held tightly onto the purple lizard and was sure that this was the end - though Espio instead landed on the rooftop of an apartment building, perfectly on his feet. As the debris of the destroyed vehicle rained down to the streets below, Espio knew the swarm of yellow-black robots was chasing after him and Elise and as such rushed for the door leading to the stairway inside of the building.

Of course, the robots' missiles still proved to be strong enough to burst through the apartment windows and walls alike - soon resulted in Espio and Elise being joined by human and anthro citizens alike, screaming and running as the robots forced their way into their rooms in their search for Elise and Espio. Not to mention setting off the fire alarm and sprinkler system due to the fact the fires from the explosions caused by them lingered.

There was little time to talk. With absolute chaos breaking out throughout the building, Espio focused completely on running with Elise to the first floor and from there out onto the streets of Soleanna's New City district. Most of the robot swarm eventually caused their own destruction due to the apartment building eventually collapsing due to the damage their missiles caused. Elise herself looked back with horror as she witnessed the building crumble in a cloud of dark grey dust. Her horror grew when at least seven surviving robots emerged from the dust and rubble to continue giving aerial chase to her and Espio.

There were Soleanna royal guardsmen, though all of them cowardly ran away along with the screaming civilians - none even seemed to consider checking if there were survivors from the building collapse.

My people...

Elise wanted to cry for any lives potentially lost in the collapse of that building, though for now there was no time to mourn.

Eventually, the seven robots that were chasing after Elise and Espio were defeated - though due to their thicker armor it was not by anything Espio himself had actually struck them with. Instead, it was through Espio outwitting them. He focused on traversing through the small alleyways that were too thin for the robots to force themselves through in bulk - due to the speeds at which they were flying they destroyed each other through crashing into one another or otherwise directly into the buildings of the city.

Only once the seventh one was finally destroyed did Espio stop, halting in the middle of a roundabout, right at the edge of when the New City actually started allowing the use of automobiles and began to become a metropolis better resembling what it becomes in the future. The two both panted as they recovered, having lost their breathes through all of the hectic insanity they had just been through.

"That should be the last of them" Espio commented as he recovered his stamina, "At least, for now."

"I hope it is the last of them, period," Elise remarked, to which Espio nodded. However, there was still work to be done for the two: namely taking Elise back to the castle. As such, Espio was quick to resume said objective:

"We still have to get you back to the palace."

"If you take me to the docks by castle town, one of the guards should summon that allows us to go to and from the castle."

"Why not use a bridge?"

"My aunt wanted to build the new castle on an island" Elise revealed to him, "She said it is a deterrent to any potential rebellion or revolution."

"I see" Espio did not linger on the thought for very long, "Well in any in case, we must be on our way before more of Eggman's army arrives."

Elise nodded, and was more than willing to take Espio's hand yet again as she was whisked away towards the doorway and tunnel to the Soleanna castle town, this time the run being rather uneventful. There were no further squads of robots sent after them, though there were many shocked and horrified pedestrians either running away from the mayhem or otherwise looking to see what precisely had gone so wrong.

Espio did not pay much mind to them however, his sole focus was getting Elise to safey.

Luckily, locating the ferry used to travel to and from the town to the castle was not hard to find. It was a simple run across at least two of the artificial islands of stone-and-mortar making up the castle town until it was visible parked by the city's docks with a large cave system leading to the Wave Ocean beach area visible in the distance behind it.

Elise could make out multiple figures on the large pleasure boat as her and Espio approached it - the same large boat she had been on during the interrupted festival though now in the light of the sun rather than the moon; those figures were none other than her prematurely aged aunt Maighread, royal press secretary Christina who now had no mask over her youthful face, a squad of at least five Soleanna royal guards including the captain Pietro, the still living Lady-in-waiting Anna, and even Ernesto - 'Ernie' - and Matteo - 'Matt' - , currently the ministers of the treasury and labor, respectively.

As Elise and Espio neared the pleasure boat, there wasn't much time to question why it was already in port. Mostly because Maighread immediately called gestured for Espio and Elise to stop in their tracks immediately before the former stepped his feet onto the boot itself, even saying to him:

"That is enough, lizard."

"Ma'am, I'm a-"

"I don't care" 'Mairie' took another puff from her cigarette, casting it's smoke into the air, "Thank you for rescuing our princess and returning her safely. Now your services are no longer needed, so you may go." - she even waved her hand, as if gesturing for Espio to leave her sight immediately.

Though he looked at the woman with severe distrust, Espio still turned to Elise and gave her a respectful bow, with Elise saying in a far more genuinely kind tone than her aunt:

"Thank you for rescuing me, Espio."

"It was an honourable duty, Lady Elise."

With those words having been exchanged, Elise joined her aunt and the others onboard the pleasure boat, while Espio walked away. Elise watched as soon enough, the castle town became further and further away with the boat's team of rowers not having any time to waste in pulling out of port and heading on their way towards the grand, opulent royal palace that rested so many miles away on its own smaller island.

Though the first few moments of the boat ride was silent save for the ambience of the waters and the jovial accordion player's music, Aunt 'Mairie' did turn from grimacing to smiling once said music was out of her personal earshot.

"Finally…"

"Aunt Mairie?" Elise asked, though when her aunt was 'forced' to look up at her suddenly the woman seemed not as pleased:

"Not you, 'dear'."

"Hm…" Elise honestly did not want to speak with her aunt anyway. Instead, she was glad when Anna approached her with more genuine happiness - leaving her aunt and her entourage to discussing things amongst themselves:

"Miss Elise, I'm so glad you are okay!" Anna and Elise even exchanged a friendly hug with one another, "But, what happened to the blue hedgehog?"

"It's a long story, I'd rather not talk about it…" that's when Elise gasped: she looked at Anna's hands and arms - noticing what appeared to be slowly healing but still fresh scars across them both. They resembled marks left by a whip or some similar instrument of punishment, and appeared to have been to Anna enough to actually inflict bleeding - though that had since dried by this point. Shocked to see this, Elise exclaimed to Anna, "What happened?!"

With a sigh and more saddened tone as she pulled her arm gently away from Elise, Anna explained:

"Madame McLoch did not take kindly to me being the one person in the country not afraid to stand up to her...she wanted to 'discipline' me once you were gone."

Elise's eyes widened with shock as she gazed upon what her aunt had done to one of the only friends she had. At first, she wanted to cry - as much as she knew she shouldn't do such a thing. What stopped her from doing so was the fact that she remembered well those words Sonic had told her many hours ago:

Nothing starts until you take action….

Turning her sadness into a form of fiery rage, Elise instead marched away from Anna and towards Mairghread, Ernie, Matt and Christina. Christina had to gesture to the regent in order to get the older woman to turn to face her not only angry but now most brave niece.

Not realizing, or not caring, why Elise was mad the aristocrat callously asked:

"Yes?"

"Aunt Mairghread-"

"Mair-"

"I don't care!" Elise almost screamed with rage, enough fury in her voice that Mairghread's own eyes widened and the entourage behind her almost stepped back in shock as Elise continued to vent her frustrations with her aunt, "Lady Mairghread of House McLoch, you have always been nothing but mean to me since the day we met when I was five! I'm the daughter of your sister, and I can see why my mother wanted to leave her homeland considering she had to put up with you all of her life! Not once have you ever even shown any sympathy or grief for her, you couldn't even be bothered to attend her or my father's funeral services! You might be my regent, you might be in charge of things while I am a minor and-or away, but that does not make you the Duchess of Soleanna! It gives you no right to threaten to have my people assasinated, and no right to torture my friends just because you want to feel more powerful than them! Once we return to the castle, I would be very happy if you rejoin the court of Lochland because you are no longer welcome in my country, and no longer will be my legal heir!"

The rowers stopped.

Everyone onboard the boat but Elise herself had their eyes widened as much as they could.

Even the gulls seemed to stop their noises, leaving only the sound of the sea's waves as ambience in the aftermath of Elise's words.

That is, until laughter broke out.

Specifically, laughter from Mairghread, Christina, Ernesto and Matteo. The rowers and members of the royal guard remained silent. Elise remained angry, though she was about as confused as Anna when Mairghread and her cohorts broke out into their fit of cackling - once more until the latter inadvertently broke out into a small fit of hoarse coughing. Upon recovering, all the amused Mairghread could respond with was more callousness:

"And how, my dear, do you plan to accomplish this goal of yours?"

"I am the Duchess of Soleanna" Elise proudly responded with her head held high, "It is completely within my legal right to dismiss you as my regent, and I'm sure the people will support my decision to relieve you from your status as heir."

"Oh really now?"

"Yes."

"Well, my dear niece, there is one detail that you are forgetting", Mairghread once more seemed to be holding back a witch-like fit of cackling as she sinisterly neared her niece. Elise remained fueled by fury in her voice as she replied:

"Like what?"

Suddenly, Elise felt a sting across her face as Mairghread's aged, boney hand slapped her hard enough to send her to the floor as the aunt coldly hissed from her yellow teeth:

"I own this country."

"Miss Elise!" Anna was about to run to Elise's side, though on Mairghread's gesture Pietro and the policemen with him drew their weapons,standard issue handguns, out on her - forcing her to immediately stop and raise her hands in fear of getting gunned down by them. Elise managed to recover nonetheless, though wasn't quite aware of the treachery as when she got up to her feet again she immediately directed her shouting to Pietro:

"Pietro! Guards!" she yelled, "Arrest this woman for assaulting the Duchess!"

Neither Pietro nor any of the guards made any response, only kept their guns aimed at Anna while their faces remained stone cold. Only Christina, Ernesto and Matteo laughed at how naive Elise proved to be. So naive she was that Mairghread had to explain it for her:

"Oh please, Elise. Your precious royal guards aren't going to help you, they're on my payroll. Have been for quite a while, actually. I could order them to kill both you and your friend right now if I wanted. There would be no witnesses. Christina could easily come up with the excuse of a robot doing it, and there would be no suspicion. If it wasn't for you being so beloved by the people, I would be the duchess already. Trust me."

Though Elise seethed with fury, there was little she could do. An immunity from the cold she did have, though not immunity to gunfire. Closing her eyes and clenching her firsts before opening them at her heartless witch of an aunt, she hissed out:

"What are you going to do, then?"

"Oh, me?" Mairghread chuckled at the thought, "I'm not going to do anything my dear! Though, I can tell you who is."

Before Elise could contemplate who this other person was, said person arrived on the scene in the form of their airborne vehicle descending right beside the boat with enough gunner robots to completely surround it. Complete with a sinister laughter now forever etched into Elise's mind, Eggman only said to Elise:

"I hope you enjoyed your walk, princess, but we really must get going now" Eggman then smirked, "And to make sure you don't get any ideas this time, allow me to introduce you to a bit of a 'blue wind' of my own."

It was then that Elise, who had turned to face Eggman, was stunned by what she saw. Flying into the air from behind Eggman's vehicle and landing on the deck of the robot right between Elise and Mairghread was a robot that was far unlike the others. It was almost like a robot version of Sonic - the exact same height, though with a three-spiked head akin to Espio. It's noise was as pointed as the sharpest of knives, and the same could be said for it's clawed hands. It's body was a miniature jet engine to allow for maximum speed to keep up with Sonic himself, and it's eyes were pitch black screens, with glowing red pupils. Elise, horrified by the arrival of this silent and uncanny machine only backed away from it in horror as Eggman introduced it:

"Meet Metal Sonic, dear princess" the roboticist proudly said, "He'll be helping to make sure this incident doesn't happen again. Now seriously, do come along, I haven't got all day."

Needless to say, Elise hesitated. Between her own policemen and now the robots aiming at her, she had not the faintest idea of what was going on. Even Mairghread was via her smile seemed to be suggesting Elise give herself up to Eggman. However, all Elise uttered was directed at her treacherous monster of an aunt:

"You're working with Eggman?"

"My dear are you dense" Mairghread almost rolled her eyes as she took another puff of her cigarette, "Yes, why do you think I got that emerald off of the black market for you? You didn't seriously think that it was some 'birthday present', did you? There wasn't any other way I was going to get the man to get into contact with me!"

"He's trying to release the flames of disaster!"

"Oh please" Mairghread carelessly remarked, "You think I honestly believe any of this country's ridiculous superstitions? Perhaps I should have told you when I put the 'scepter of darkness' up for sale on the black market, would have saved you the trouble of having to figure all of this out I suppose."

You….you bitch!

Elise had plenty that she wanted to say, though Eggman was quick to interject:

"I hate to get in between family discussions, though I have quite the busy schedule - so if you don't mind…"

"I apologize for your wait, Doctor" Mairghread responded, before turning to her niece and pointing towards Eggman and his vehicle, "I suggest you take your leave, my niece. Don't make this more difficult for yourself than it has to be."

Elise did not budge however, however two of the Egg Gunners did land immediately behind her - completely preventing Anna from approaching as well as Elise from even considering escape. With that set in place, she bowed her head in defeat. She could hear Ernesto, Christina and Matteo laughing at her misfortune in hushed whispers and murmurs.

With Elise bowing her head in surrender, Eggman then directed his attention to Mairghread herself:

"Oh, and Madame McLoch" he said in the most cordial of tones, "There is a matter I need to discuss with you."

"Yes, Doctor Eggman?"

"Well" Eggman explains, "I would like a refund of sorts, for the scepter of darkness. I won't go into too much detail but will say that it appears G.U.N. has become more involved in my plans than I was anticipating. Whatever you've been doing to stop them from interfering with my capturing of Elise, it does not appear to be full-proof."

"Excuse me?"

"You do realize that my glorious creations don't pay for their own production, do you not?" Eggman snarked, "Since I've lost the scepter of darkness to G.U.N. I would greatly appreciate assurance that I will get my money back, if you please."

There was yet again a moment of silence throughout the scene as everyone awaited for the regent's answer. Even Christina nervously walked towards her mistress and spoke in a soft, somewhat frightened tone:

"Miss Mairg-"

But Mairghread put out a hand in order to swiftly silence her, before turning to the guards and saying:

"It appears our deal with Eggman is now canceled" she said to the policemen, "Dispose of these robots immediately, and I don't care if you hit the princess or not."

The police, even Pietro, for once broke from their cold, tense looks and now seemed more frightened than anything else. They were not idiots. They were well aware that these robots would not be harmed by their pathetic handgun bullets - they looked at the regent as though she was completely demented for even suggesting it. Ernesto and Matteo though, were ever the loyalists and shouted at the guards once it was apparent that they were not responding:

"You heard the regent!" Ernesto exclaimed, "Fire, you idiots!"

"Take them out now!" Matteo yelled, "Your future duchess commands it!"

"That is my line, Matt!" Mairghread growled, before turning to the arrogantly smirking Eggman and continuing to bark like an enraged dog, "How dare you! You do not get to make demands of me!"

"It appears, dear Madame McLoch, that your guards would agree with me that I can."

"No you can not!" Mairghread roared as she directed her fury at Eggman - her damaged voice making it sound even more like one, "I am Lady Mairghread of the House of McLoch! Princess of Lochland! Future Duchess of Soleanna! You are nothing more than a mad scientist who still plays with childish toys! My money has better uses than catering to you and your frivolous, insipid plans! Do you know how much plastic surgery costs? Or how about bribing those in charge of G.U.N. to say out of my plans? The only reason I wanted you was to get my niece out of the picture, but now I am in the perfect position to do without you-AGH!"

In an instant, all on the boat were shocked. In her ranting against Eggman, Mairghread had not paid attention to Metal Sonic. The robot had grown quite tired of her voice and levitated himself in the air, within an instant having grabbed her by the neck - which he proceeded to snap and fracture within a matter of minutes. The sound of her bones cracking could be heard by all on the deck. After her dead muscles relaxed and her cigarette dropped from her hands, Metal Sonic discarded Mairghread's corpse by tossing it onto the floor of the deck as though she were nothing but trash - meaningless, worthless trash.

Eggman was the only one not horrified to witness the power behind Soleanna's throne be discarded like an everyday piece of garbage - in fact he was quite elated by it:

"Good idea, Metal!" he cheered, before turning to the rest of the robots surrounding the boat, "The rest of you, follow his example! Though do not harm the duchess!"

Right before the carnage began, Ernesto and Matteo callously screamed at Pietro and the police virtually in unison:

"Hurry!"

"Kill the girl before he kills us all!" Ernesto screamed in terror.

"She's useless to him dead!" Matteo added.

Their lack of humanity was rewarded with them being among the first to perish once the Egg Gunners began firing their machine gun bullets at all on the deck - both 'Ernie' and 'Matt' dying almost immediately to bullets in the head, meeting a similar fate to Mairghread in dying as though their lives held no significance whatsoever.

They were followed by captain Pietro and the rest of the guardsmen onboard soon after. Their handgun bullets were of no effect and merely bounced off the robots, and they themselves along with all of the boat rowers were gunned down in a blood-soaked massacre as bullets promptly descended into their bodies.

Elise could only drop to her knees, holding her head as she hoped with all heart that she would not be among the growing number of corpses aboard the boat.

The two Egg Gunners behind her, following their creator's orders, turned their attention to Anna. Backing away in fear, Anna was lucky as though bullets did graze the edges of her arms and legs the shock of it was enough to send her off the side of the boat and into the waters below. She lost her glasses as she screamed though none of her injuries were fatal by any means.

The same could not be said however, for Christina. While the Egg Gunners were mowing down Ernie, Matt and the guardsmen she screamed at the top of her lungs and ran straight for Elise. Slipping right past a seemingly idle Metal Sonic, she managed to take advantage of the two robots' distraction with Anna and grab hold of Elise:

"Ah!" Elise shrieked as suddenly Christina held her as one would a hostage - the once usually quiet assistant telling her in a panicked tone:

"Shut up you fucking bitch! I'm not dying because of you!"

However, she was quite wrong. Just like her mistress, she far too late realized that Metal Sonic's position had changed. Christina did not even have time to process that the robot was behind her until she felt a sudden, piercing sting at her waistline.

It did not last long, though it did completely eliminate her ability to speak or even move.

Within moments both her top half and bottom half fell to the ground - her body having been successfully bisected by a single slash of Metal Sonic's knife-like claws. Well before the Egg Gunners had the time to turn around to kill her themselves, for that matter.

My god…

Elise could only express horrified awe at how the most powerful, yet evil, people in all of Soleanna had been taken down in mere seconds by Eggman and his machines. Christina, Ernie, Matt, Pietro and Mairghread all lay dead on the deck of the boat as though they were completely worthless - the power they once held gone about as fast as their lives. Not even Eggman wasted time dwelling on their downfall:

"Excellent work my robots! Now, let's take our friend here back to the Egg Carrier, this vacation has gone on quite long enough!"

Anna…

Elise bowed her head in surrender as Metal Sonic lifted her with his cold, metallic hands and saw to it that she was placed in the cockpit with Eggman. The robot along with the others in the squadron wasted no time in flying away at that point, Elise only looking down at her feet during yet another ride as Eggman's captive.

She could only hope that Sonic truly would find a way back to the present time in order to rescue her.

While Elise was happy when she looked over to the side of the vehicle as it ascended and left the scene of the slaughter and saw a visual of Anna swimming back to Soleanna's docks - that did not change the fact that Sonic was still sent through time.

That did not change the fact she yet again felt hopeless.

Sonic…

I hope Espio was right….

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hi, do you have some Johnlock shower sex fics (maybe bottomlock) ? thank you,love your blogs

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Καλημέρα (or good afternoon depending where your from😁) Would you by any chance have any fics of john and sherlock like showering together? It could be smut or not, I just think that showering with your s/o is kinda cute and they would be adorable 🥺 Thank You 🥰

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Hey, I was wondering if you have any fluffy bath-sharing fics?

Hi Nonny!

Aww, thanks, I’m glad you enjoy my blog!

AHHHH Okay so I know I have a tonne of fics with Shower Sex, but I haven’t started retagging fics until recently with this because someone asked me AGES ago with them, LOL

SHOWERING / BATHING TOGETHER

Through A Glass by Mildredandbobbin (M, 2,012 w., 1 Ch. || Voyeurism, Masturbation, First Kiss) – There is an adjoining door in the bathroom at 221B that leads into Sherlock’s bedroom. The door, from the bathroom to Sherlock’s bedroom, is made of three glass, semi-opaque panels. It has suddenly come to Sherlock’s attention that if he stands in exactly the right spot in his bedroom he can see through said panels, and more to the point, can see John.

Bathroom Accessories by Evenlodes_Friend (E, 3,324 w., 1 Ch. || Sex Toys, Butt Plug, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Horny Sherlock, John’s Patience Wears Thin, Humour, Bottomlock) – John discovers that Sherlock has been playing with some very adult toys in the bath.

Uninhibited by 221b_hound (M, 4,293 w., 1 Ch. || Bathing/Washing, Naked Cuddling, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Big Brother Mycroft, Relationship Negotiation, Massage, Sherlock Has a Low Libido, Pet Names) – Sherlock and John have been apart for the first time since Sherlock returned from the dead. Neither of them has had a good day. John's gets worse when Mycroft comes to Baker Street in Sherlock's absence to warn John Watson against disappointing his brother by expecting things to change. Mycroft has misjudged things rather badly. But finally he sods off and leaves John and Sherlock to reconnect, to give and receive comfort, and show each other that they are, indeed, perfectly matched. Part 15 of Unkissed

Linger by queenoftrivia (E, 4,879 w., 1 Ch. || Lingerie, Fluff and Smut, BJ / HJ, Switchlock, Sherlock in Lingerie, Come Play, Dirty Talk, Anal Fingering, Anal/Oral, Implied Shower Sex, Neck Kissing) – Sherlock decides to surprise John after a somewhat stressful day at work.

What Happens in Vegas (is legally binding in the United Kingdom) by  moonblossom (E, 5,051 w., 1 Ch. || Accidental Marriage, Friends to Husbands to Lovers, CSI Crossover, Fluff & Porn, Bathtub Sex, Hand Jobs, First Time) – When a case sends the boys to Vegas, John comes out of it with a bit more than he bargained for. Part 19 of Prompt Fills, Remixes, Works inspired by others

The Bathing Habits of Dr. John H. Watson by scullyseviltwin (T, 5,077 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Happy Endings, Domestics, Baths, Slice of Life Snippets) – The knocks come crisply—three raps and then a long span of quiet. Slumping down further, John makes every effort to ignore the intrusion and relaxes as best he can in the less-than-ideal space available. If he doesn’t move, maybe he’ll be left in peace. There’s a brief respite of silence and then, again, three more raps on the door, in faster succession this time, followed by, “John, it’s been an hour, how can you possibly—” “We agreed two, two hours.” There’s no room for argument; John’s tone makes that very clear.It sounds as though Sherlock’s mouth is pressed right to the door when he next speaks. “What if I need the toilet!?”

Just Like That by sussexbound (E, 8,442 w., 1 Ch. || First Time/Kiss, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, French Kissing, Anal, Emotional Lovemaking, Enthusiastic Consent, Tenderness, Crying John, Bathing/Washing, Insecure John, Toplock) – John doesn’t want to talk anymore. He wants. Oh dear god, how he wants. For the first time in what feels like years he WANTS.

Johnlock Ficlet Collection by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 11,505+ w., 16/? Ch. [WiP] | Random Ficlets, Pining, Angst, Fluff & Smut, Parentlock, AU’s, First Kiss, Character POV’s) - Just a collection of Johnlock ficlets, originally posted on my Tumblr page.

I'll Meet You in Hong Kong by alexxphoenix42 (E, 12,767 w., 5 Ch. || Freebatch RPF || Phone / Shower Sex, Infidelity, Polyamory, Bit of Angst, Cuddles) – Benedict and Martin's busy, busy schedules have them grabbing a few nights together in Hong Kong during Ben's Doctor Strange junket. They both have news to share. While this does pick up after the story "Forever 1895," you don't absolutely have to read that one to dive on in here. Part 2 of Forever Freebatch

A Hundred Thousand Ways to Say the Name John by Jberry (E, 16,825 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, POV John, Pining John, Cruise Ship, Angst & Fluff, Case Fic) –  John Watson and Sherlock Holmes must solve a case on a cruise ship. To get close to the crew and passengers, they must get married for the case on the Baetica. However, their relationship hits rocky seas both due to the case and internal conflicts. Part 1 of Baetica

John Watson doesn't have a Boyfriend by naughtyspirit (E, 18,932 w., 7 Ch. || UST / URT, Fluff & Smut, Voyeurism, Masturbation) – John's date has gone very well. Sherlock requires tea. John wishes he hadn't resolved that their relationship was strictly hands off and isn't about to address it. Unless he has to. Smut, fluff and shower time for a naked John Watson.

Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w., 6 Ch. || Retirement, Sussex, Bees, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl by out_there (E, 32,897 w., 1 Ch. || Past Drug Use, Blowjobs, Toplock, Mentions of Switching, Rough Sex, Background Cases, Sherlock’s Past, Sherlock’s Sexual History, Experienced Sherlock, Past One Night Stands, Fingering, Cuddling, Possessive Sherlock, Paris Holiday, Bed Sharing, Naked Lie-Ins, Bathing Together, Confessions, Worried Sherlock, Laying in Bed All Day, Meddling Mycroft, Naked Lazy Day) – Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John's head.

Right Hand Man by SilentAuror (E, 42,031 w., 4 Ch. ||  H/C, Injury, Slow Burn) – When John's left arm becomes paralysed after a car accident, Mary asks Sherlock to take him back to Baker Street to recuperate, as she's about to give birth. Despite the fact that the search for Moriarty is ongoing, Sherlock takes John in and takes responsibility for overseeing his rehabilitation as he adjusts to the loss of his arm.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w., 6 Ch. || Five and Ones, Post-TRF, Case Fic, UST, Homophobia, Friends to Lovers, Pining John, Showering Together, Couple for a Case, Sherlock’s Bum, Fantasies, Jealous Sherlock) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

The Real Great Perfumers by shelleysprometheus (E, 45,355 w., 68 Ch. || Case Fic, Alternating POV, Gay Sherlock / Bi John, Canon Compliant with Divergence at TRF, Friends to Lovers, Oral / Anal, Pining, First Kiss / Time, Dev. Rel., Drugging, Body Worship, Bathing, Love Confessions, Travelling, Bottomlock, Cranky Sherlock, BJ’s, Alternating POV, Jealous John) – The case, this case. This extraordinary, fascinating, scintillating case. A house. Designed entirely by its eccentric owner, built by no less than five hundred expert tradesmen in the heart of Marrakesh. A house that had, seemingly not only driven its owner out, but also to his quite unpleasant death. And a perfumer, a chemist no less, the very thought of the secrets that house could reveal, would reveal was irresistible. Sherlock had to have this case ... and it seems, he also had to have John! Part 1 of the Forethought and Fire series

Guilty Secrets by Ellipsical (E, 55,086 w., 16 Ch. || Drumsticks, First Kiss/Time, Love Confession, Self-Sexual-Discovery, Anal, Rimming, Orgasim Denial, Butt Plugs, Cooking, Furniture Sex, Bath Sex, Rimming, Double Penetration, Prostate Massage, Anal Beads, Dancing, Romance, Tantric Edging, Internalized Homophobia, Case as Foreplay) – John has a prostate exam and discovers something surprising about himself. Experimentation follows. Sherlock wants to help. They're in love. You know the drill.

The Moonlight and the Frost by CaitlinFairchild (E, 77,289 w., 10 Ch. || Case Fic, Post-HLV, Self Harm, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Oral/Anal/Rimming, Romance, Angst, Mary is Not Nice) – John has to somehow rebuild his life in the wake of Mary's betrayal and Sherlock's deceptions.

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller, Switchlock, Rimming, Emotional Lovemaking, Lots of Sex, HJ/BJ’s) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

[mokutone]

,, i dont,, know jackshit about naruto,, but,,,,,,, your watercolor pieces are so good??? like???????? SO GOOD?????

Here's the obligatory ask (since I started trying to use watercolors): are you aware of any tips for that particular medium? Like, are the brushes and watercolor quality really important or is that just my imagination? Also, how 2 mix colors and not die-

LMAO thanks!! I’m glad you think so!

I do have a lot of tips for watercolor, but I’ll start with the material questions. I would say that the quality of the tools can be fairly important, but like, it’s not make or break.

Supplies Information:

Disclaimer: None of this is necessary! You can make great art with any material available to you. All materials have different strengths and weaknesses, but you can create things that bring joy with the most rudimentary of supplies. 

I tend mostly to use liquid watercolors because I find them easier to control and manage (and I just...like working out of little bottles of liquid with eyedroppers. It’s my ink bias), but they have significant drawbacks. Archival speaking? light will bleed all the color out of what I have created eventually! They aren’t built to last. That doesn’t worry me much because I tend to stack all my drawings up and shove them in a drawer when I’m done, but it’s something to keep in mind. I find them easy to mix and manage in the pallet, and easy to reactivate if they dry out 

The brands I use are Dr. PH Martin’s Concentrated/Radiant Watercolor, and Ecoline Watercolor. Between the two, I would recommend Ecoline because they are cheaper, have more consistent texture, and have more in the bottle. Honestly, if the art store near me wasn’t on a huge sale, I never woulda gotten the PH Martins, they’re expensive as hell and just incredibly teeny glass bottles.

BUT, if you want to use watercolor that comes in tubes (which will last longer, give you more options for artistic expression—because the texture ranges from paste to watery, you have all that range to experiment with—and which most watercolor artists prefer in general) there’s a lot more options. The highest quality for the cheapest price I’ve found are the Turner’s watercolor tubes? I don’t always love the texture when I’m wetting the paint because I am picky, but the color is incredibly vibrant, and the prices are incredibly affordable compared to like, schminke or cotman haha. I used these in school and had a great time with them.

Brushes I know a lot less about, like almost nothing honestly, I wish I could give you some concrete advice on brushes but what it really comes down to for me is like, if you like the way it feels in your hand, if you like the way it makes a mark, it’s good. all it exists to do is facilitate You making a mark on the paper with some artistic medium, as long as you are satisfied with it, that’s good. 

If you want brush recommendations though, I’ve been told that Princeton’s watercolor brushes (i have a couple from the Heritage and Velvetouch series) are good synthetic brushes for...moderate prices. Brushes are expensive. Usually people recommend you have a #2 and #4 Round, and a smaller detail brush, but again, really, like all things art it all comes down to your preferences, and your needs. 

Actual Painting Tips:

Take care of yourself! Treat yourself kindly, forgive yourself for making mistakes. I’m dead serious. It’s impossible to avoid making mistakes, and in watercolor the mistakes are really hard to fix, and usually impossible without the use of gouache or something else opaque, so at some point it’s going to become an exercise in forgiving yourself for making those mistakes, like drawing in pen with no under-sketch.  On a good day, I find this therapeutic. On a bad day, it’s maddening. It’s okay not to make art on a bad day. When it comes to something you do because you enjoy it, and want to continue enjoying it, it’s important not to force yourself to do anything you don’t want to, and to take breaks when you feel yourself getting frustrated.

Paint from Lightest color value to Darkest. If you’re going to paint a character with a bit of a rim-light from some golden sunlight, paint that light light yellow first, top to bottom, and then work your way to the darker colors.

If you’re painting on a tilted surface (I’m guilty of keeping my sketchpad or paper block on my knees) paint from top to bottom. The weight of the water will pull the paint down, so you want to work with gravity, not against it! 

Limit yourself. Let yourself only work with one color for a day or so, then only two colors, then only three. When you put yourself in a corner where you don’t have a lot of options, you’ll often find you surprise yourself with what you come up with. Usually, I pick three colors, put them down on my pallet, and leave them there for a week or so, mostly just painting from those colors. It helps me develop a familiarity with how those colors work together, and how they work when I mix them. 

Mixing Colors:

another thing I should say about the Dr.PH Martin’s watercolors is that they don’t always mix well. I tried to get a skin tone for Kakashi once out of pink, green, and a little bit of brown, and in the mixture you could see all of the colors that went into it, and it gave a very strange look. I liked it as a color, but it definitely looked weird.

The paint that you use will have properties specific to itself, and you will get more familiar with those properties as you work it. It may mix smoothly on the pallet, it may not, and both of those can be good if you’re willing to work with them. 

Because of watercolor’s properties, there’s three main ways to mix it:

One: Mixing in the palette. What it says on the tin—you mix the paint, you put it on the paper. I do this one the most, it just takes a lot of familiarity with your paints to get used to the balances that create the colors you want, just lots and lots of playing around.

Two: Mixing dry. This isn’t really “mixing” per se, but it does the same job, Watercolor is a transparent medium, and one that reactivates when wet, so if you put one color over another, it’s about the same as mixing.

Three: Semi-wet mixing. The combination of the two! You can get some weird effects out of this. I use it sparingly, but I love to use it when I do.

The most useful physical tool for me (just me personally) in mixing is a pallet i have, and while it’s fairly cheap and should last like, idk forever, there are other ways to get a similar effect without it, as long as you give yourself space to mix.

it looks like this, it’s a porcelain pallet (so the cleanup is incredibly easy, unlike my plastic one, which unfortunately wants to hold my color a little) and i use it almost daily. The circular wells are for where you put the bulk of the color you will be using, and the rectangular wells are for mixing either with water, to get more translucent colors, or with other colors. The limited wells but excess of mixing space puts pressure on me not to use too many colors, but to mix them constantly. (but also has enough divided space that I don’t feel anxious about everything getting muddied. i am very particular.)

It’s heavy though, and while its therefore good for sitting on my desk and not getting knocked off by my cat or me, it’s not easily portable, especially as it’s uncovered if that's something that is important to you. Blick’s probably has them, as does...I imagine any other art retailer? They’re fairly popular. Usually around 6-8$ but again, none of these tools are necessary, they are just what suit me personally. I hope this helps! If I have the energy for it, at some point I’ll post some basic watercolor exercises to help with control and technical skill. You can get very good with any medium just by raw continuous practice, but my teacher last year had us do a lot of exercises that not only gave me a much greater comfort and confidence with watercolor, but that were also just...incredibly meditative to do.