#i'd still FEEL threatened by it but i think right now my curiosity and desire to feel seen would win out over that
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echthr0s · 3 months ago
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I am pretty sure I've never actually met a high-affective-empathy person -- everyone I know who has claimed this has turned out to be high-anxiety, and since popular understanding of empathy is... lacking, this always goes unexamined >_> -- but I thought about it and I think I could imagine what an actual high-empathy person would be like. and the answer is... spooky.
they'd be spooky. if this was the olden days, people would call them a witch. hell, people might still do it. they'd seem to have an uncanny intuition. their party trick would be to look at you, take a sip of their drink, take a deep breath, and then tell you something about yourself that would immediately piss you the fuck off and you'd never speak to them again. because they're wrong! they tried to psychoanalyse you like a fucking Crane brother and they were so blatantly wrong! ...a few years and 100 therapy sessions later, you think back and you're like "oh my god. how the fuck did they know."
my blueprint for what an actual high-empathy person is like: Heather Havrilesky ("Ask Polly"). I've been reading her for years and she has told stories like the above -- stories of alienating people with her weirdly invasive commentary, which she offered freely and with great enthusiasm, not always realising how hidden or suppressed the stuff she was revealing actually was. people generally Do Not Like having their inner worlds put on display like that, especially at large-scale social functions, and they found it suspicious and manipulative besides. to Heather, this was just her way of connection-seeking, of saying, "I see you!" fortunately, she figured out how to use this power for good -- she writes an advice column. and she always seems to get to what the Letter Writer is actually saying, which I always thought was... well, spooky.
I also think that most high-empathy people probably aren't announcing it. they've either suppressed it entirely out of social pressure to be less weird and invasive and creepy, or they are grappling with like 5 mental illnesses (due to either people's mistreatment or just the constant overstimulation). I wonder what the combination of high affective and low cognitive empathy is like; I can only imagine the inverse, because that's me, and frankly I think that's the best combination of these traits~ ;)
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jurijyuu · 2 months ago
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Scratch an Itch Extras: The First Sleepover
Author's Note:
Hello everyone,
In celebration of this fic receiving 100K hits on AO3, I decided to share an extra chapter. This comes right after the events of Chapter 20: Warm by the Fire and is a little peek at the kind of relationship Ynna and Alastor established when they opened up to each other more.
Once again, I am very honored to receive your support for this story. I'd like to make a shoutout to @ritualofcirice and @silva-daemonium for being the first friends I made from this fic. You both have been my dearest darlings these last few months and I am so very thankful to have met you. I don't think I would have ever tried to step into the fandom without you and I would still be just a little writer in her lonely corner of the internet.
@chefskjssart @fraugwinska @macabr3-barbi3, thank you for being there to inspire my art and writing.
I am always in awe of all the wonderful creators I've met just this year through fandom. It's such a beautiful thing to be able to share my love of fanfiction with others.
With Love, Juri
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Alastor’s POV
She didn’t take her hand back from him.
As her breathing evened out and her pulse quieted to a steady rhythm, her hand remained held by his own. The marks where he’d bitten her stood out against her skin. He turned those fingers gently, using the light of the fire to reaffirm his work. 
A part of him still could not believe that she’d allowed him a nibble. Another part of him reveled in it. Foolish little one, offering penance for a non-offense. And oh how she offered it! Freely and unafraid. He didn’t expect her to agree when he’d jokingly asked for it but how she proved him wrong.
Fire danced in his veins as he replayed the last few moments. 
She’d held his gaze, reassuring and unflinching, a spark of curiosity briefly dancing in those entrancing depths at the first prickles of his teeth. He had wanted to continue watching her, to see her reactions. Would she be pained? Disgusted? Would she regret it? Would it be possible that she felt the same desire she’d awakened in him now that she watched him partake of her?
But her stare remained sincere, soft and caring, just like his dream. He closed his eyes, not wanting to break that image. It brought about heightened familiar sensations and he didn’t want her to see the things that screamed in the back of his gaze.
He’d gotten everything from her this evening. Her company, her bite, her laughter and her delight. Now, she even offered her flesh for him to chew on. What else could he ask for? His heart hammered in his chest as the first copper drops hit his tongue. It took everything in him not to make a sound when all the nerves in his body rang with joy and dark delight. They rippled and sang, urging him to take on his demonic form and run wild. To devour and be devoured. He’d eaten countless sinners before yet none of them could compare to the few drops of her life’s essence, freely given.
His mind felt foggy, overtaken with a need to savor the moment and bask in its proximity to his ideal. Proximity, yes. Even though fire and electric delight rushed in his veins, something howled in the back of his mind that it wasn’t enough. Not yet. 
He wanted more. So much more. To feel her breath against his skin again, to feel her warmth as she threatened to tear through him. For her to know exactly what she did to him, how she fed this insanity that had bloomed in the wake of her carelessness, and for her to keep doing it. For him. He had half a mind to show her exactly that, to take her under him and let her feel ALL that she did to him. Let her take responsibility for it. But the pulse fluttering from where his fingers lightly held her wrist, tempered his half-delirious state. 
Patience. He needed patience. He took as much as he could from the cuts he made, reminding himself of all the mental exercises she’d put him through to hide this frightening desire from her. It was a blessing that she’d given in this much already. He should be thankful and satisfied, for now.
And the reward for keeping up a calm facade?
She didn’t take her hand back from him.
It was as much permission as he needed to stay beside her this evening. Even as his insides buzzed violently in victory, he didn’t need to chant his way into the dream realm this time.
Ynna’s POV
The bright rays of the Pentagram streamed from your window, hitting at just the right angle to irritate your eyes. A minor headache attacked your foggy brain before everything cleared up and you fully awoke. The memory of last night returned to you. Out of curiosity, you turned to the spot next to you, wondering if the Radio Demon had decided to leave some time after you fell asleep.
What greeted you was a black swirling mass, tendrils of smoke and shadow wisps rising at least two feet tall and spreading across your bedroom floor. They swirled over and around you like a dark fog. They felt like nothing and if you hadn’t opened your eyes, you wouldn’t have even known they were there. 
Were you still asleep? What kind of unconscious thoughts floated in your head to give you such a strange dream? As you tried to sit up, a slight pull weighed tugged at your arm. One of your hands disappeared into that black mass, tendrils creeping up to your elbow. For a moment, you were mesmerized by the soft curling motions.
You followed the numb line of your arm to see two harshly glowing red dials floating in the darkness. The moment you saw them, static screeched high and the tendrils shot up to your face quickly. You screamed.
“Ahhh fucking shit!!”
Scrambling backwards, you yanked your hand back. Your elbows scraped against the carpet as you tumbled around the pillow mountain you’d been sleeping on. The slight burn was enough for you to think that this might not be a dream after all which meant you were in danger. A velvety pillow with lots of buttons was immediately grabbed to use as a weapon or shield against that monster.
At your scream, the mass shifted, first getting bigger as if to engulf the room before it retreated into the figure of a person, Alastor. The redhead groaned as he came to consciousness, a snarl of a smile on his face as his eyes adjusted to the lighting and he tried to understand what was going on.
“What are you doing?” He hissed, eyes back to normal as they narrowed against the light.
“Me? What about you? Why were you covered in shadows? What was that thing?” You stared at him in disbelief, slowly trying to piece together an explanation for what you saw. Cautiously, you crawled closer to him, unsure of whether this truly was your friend and not a mimic or something. When he looked at you like he was about to suffocate you with the pillow you held, you elaborated on the shadow mass that had been occupying his space just seconds ago.
“Ah. That.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, a look of utter pain and misery evident in the way his eyes glared at nothing in particular. “That’s just how I sleep. The shadows offer protection when I’m unconscious.”
“Oh.” It made sense. Someone like him would have had more defenses given he was so powerful. The shadow mass had been ominous and big enough to devour you into its pitch black nothingness. Anyone who happened upon it would have thought twice about approaching. 
Even now, safe in the knowledge that it was just your friend, your heart still pounded, mind on alert for danger. Still, a giggle bubbled up your throat before bursting out. What a relief and what a stupidly creepy thing to turn into in your sleep. Alastor was such a freaky man.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I just learned something new about you today.” Now that the danger was sorted out, you got a chance to see the usually elegant man look pouty and disgruntled. His eyes stayed narrowed and his hair stuck out in places. There were visible wrinkles in his suit and a slump to his posture. It was so different from his polished appearance yet still so very him. 
“Well, go learn it a little more quietly. I have a terrible headache.” He scoffed before grabbing your pillow shield, plopping back down on your floor and laying on his side away from you. He shimmied out of his coat and made himself comfortable, grunting and scoffing as he dealt with what must have been a huge hangover, you realized. It was terribly bratty behavior, acting like he owned the spot where he curled up.
You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing some more. It was cute of him. And who ever thought you’d associate cute with Alastor of all people? But there he was, about as graceful as a toddler threatening to throw a plushie at you. In your mind, you cooed at him. Poor little radio deer, having to deal with the consequences of alcohol consumption.
“I can hear you laughing.” He snarled, voice rough, and you couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face.
“I swear I’m over here just breathing.” He turned on his side to face you, still scowling. You were aware that your face betrayed how amusing you thought he looked and he certainly did not like it. Of course, you felt like rubbing it in.
You laid down to rest on your stomach until you were face to face with his scowling too-early-in-the-morning-for-this countenance. Come to think of it, wasn’t this just a reversal of how you both lounged about last night? Alastor on his stomach while you laid there looking at him.
The only difference was that only one of you was having a good time right now. 
“How are you so chipper?”
“I get drunk fast which means I don’t drink nearly enough to leave me hungover.” It was a lovely perk of being lightweight. Never overspend on alcohol and you rarely, if ever, had a hangover. You felt pretty cheeky, seeing his ears pull back. It was cute even though it was a sign of annoyance. Still, teasing a cranky Alastor too much sounded like a recipe for disaster.
Standing up with your legs that you just noticed no longer stung, you stretched until all the funny tension left you. Looking down at the unimpressed demon, still squinting in the morning light, you couldn’t help but think that it was nice to have sleepovers like this. If only to be able to see him so petulant and carefree.
“I’m going to make breakfast. Do you want me to bring you some?” With a whispery voice, you offered.
“Urghh. That reminds me. I need to make food.” Sluggishly, he sat up, face twisted in his smiling version of a snarl. He looked ready to murder somebody.
“I doubt anyone else is awake so I think it’ll be fine if you skip cooking today. I can take over too if needed.” 
“…you can cook?”
“You thought I couldn’t? I’m a full grown adult, you know? Anyway, did you want food? Or coffee?”
“Caffeine sounds excellent, right now. Allow me to escort you.” His long legs started to curl under him, taking much more effort to stand than it should have. It was sad and funny. You stopped him.
Even as in pain as he was, little pieces of his usual proper exterior were already shifting back into place. His posture slightly straightened and he made an effort to soften his scowl. You felt it a pity that the loose and unrefined him only lasted a few short minutes. You placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him not to get up. 
It took only a light press for him to obediently pause and you couldn’t help but capture some of his fringe in your fingertips. You played with the smooth ends before carding your fingers through them, fixing a fly away strand back into place. He didn’t flinch nor fling you off as you did so and it caused a surge of last night’s adoration for him to return to you.
“No. It’s fine. I can go by myself and bring up some for you. Are you going back to your suite? You can feel free to stay here till you feel better too.” He stared at you for a little bit, static crunching loudly like white noise. You imagined a little beeping screech to go with it. It made his irritated blank look even funnier to compare him to a dial up router trying to connect to the Internet.
He must’ve noticed that you were mentally making fun of him because his eye twitched. Playfully, he snapped at your hand which you immediately took out of range of his teeth. You personally knew how sharp they were now and weren’t interested in knowing how it would hurt if the man actually wanted to weaponize them. 
But he was acting loose again and he clutched one of your pillows to his chest with a huff. Guess he was staying. 
You smiled at that and took it as your cue to leave. As you stepped out the door, you turned back to him who was just squinting crankily at the spot where you had stood. Oh this poor guy. For someone who drank so much, he was really bad with hangovers.
“Feel free to move to the bed if you wanna go back to sleep.” With that, you closed the door and went to go get breakfast.
Alastor’s POV
How aggravating. The light in the room was too bright as Ynna kept her windows open to let pentagram light in for her plants. It stung his eyes and contributed greatly to the blasted headache behind them. And then there was the goat herself, chipper and happy first thing in the morning. And it was morning. The little clock on the wall said it was a little passed 8. 
She was too happy while he sat here in misery. 
While he knew that he had consumed more alcohol than usual, he hadn’t thought it was to this extent. He must’ve presented quite a sorry appearance since Ynna, for all her efforts to stifle her amusement, was actually not putting in that much effort in doing so. The little brat.
His ears picked up everything, senses hightened just to torture him some more. Her soft breaths as she faced him, the crunch of her hooves against the carpet. He had half a mind to pin her down with his shadows so she would stop moving and he could go back to sleep but then she offered to make coffee. With her sweet eyes watching him, she brushed his hair with her fingers. Some of his irritation melted away with those fleeting touches and he wondered why he’d taken so long to permit her this casual contact. Clearly, they both enjoyed it.
When she asked if he wished to stay, his sensibilities told him it was inappropriate to do so. But he was neither in the mood to care about decorum nor inclined to leave the perfectly comfortable space they inhabited together. The choice seemed obvious.
As she left, his mind finally processed her parting words. He eyed her bed, noting the other blankets and pillows still on it. Since she offered anyway…
He shadowed under the covers, digging his head under the small plush pile of cushions to block out the light. In the comfortable darkness, her scent surrounded him. It massaged that constant pulsing ache behind his eyes and he found himself starting to drift off to sleep again. 
She really was too unassuming, too open to sharing her space with her friends. But at least she opened that space to him…and he was all too happy to take advantage as he dug into the knitted blankets and linen sheets, letting his eyes rest.
The next time he opened his eyes, it was half an hour later and Ynna had brought in a tray of food. Toast, scrambled eggs, bacon and strawberries were neatly arranged on two plates. A carafe of coffee and their mugs right next to it. He eyed her mug. They’d bought it during one of their lunches. She had laughed when she saw the design saying ‘I wet my plants’ and instantly bought the thing.
They ate breakfast that morning sat in her bed and true to her word, he stayed and enjoyed the comfort of her room until he was ready to leave hours later.
Coffee that morning had been delicious.
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jinxthequeergirl · 6 years ago
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All Monsters Are Human
Edward nygma x reader
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Summary: Ed decides to show you how much he cares with a grand gesture that leads to an unpleasant series of events.
I got the idea from a story I once read called "The Dark,scary parts and all" by Danielle pagie (very good story from a very good book)
Warning: murder hinted at abuse
And Jesus it's a lot darker than I intended and probably dosen't make a whole lot of sense
(not my gif!)
~~~~~~~~~
You where always a strange kid. You like monster movies instead of whatever pretty princess movie was playing. Your dad didn't mind though you honestly believed he preferd you want a monster you instead of a Barbie.
When you where old enough to watch real horror movies. Movies like
Friday the 13th, Halloween, Texas chain saw, and scream you had basically studied them. Which your dad also liked you basically taught yourself how to defend yourself.
You also learned how to identify the type of stab wounds and cuts. That's why Lee had you stick around the M.E lab every time you would visit your dad.
"What are you doing here kid?"
Jim looked up at Harvey before looking at You and smiling. "Good to see you too dad. I come with Lunch!" You said tossing a Brown paper bag down on there desk with a smile. Harvey took it making room for you to hoist yourself up onto the desk.
"Thank you." he kissed your cheek before rumaging through the bag.
You took the case file from Him examining the pictures as Harvey handed him a sandwich.
You opened your mouth to speak but you phone interrupted you. You checked it, rolled your eyes and tucked it in your pocket turning back to your father.
"If I had to guess I'd say a small knife...scouple type."
"Your guess would be correct miss Bullock." you grinned looking up at the man who sported before you.
"What can I say Ed I have a knack for this stuff!"
He smiled at you. Ed and you had always gotten along ever since you convinced Harvey to let you visit every so offten. And it was extreamily obvious he was almost in love with you from the moment you met. Harvey groaned from behind you and turned to Jim. "My grandchildren are going to be some weird mix of riddle telling horror freaks aren't they?" Jim chuckled. Chowing down on his lunch as you continued to gush over the latest case. Your father cleared his throat loudly catching both your attention.
"Ed why don't you just take (y/n) to the lab and geek out about it there I'm eating!" you hopped off the desk and grabbed eds hand. "C'mon Ed..Man does nothing but work around death and can't handle a little talk." you teased before walking away hand in hand with Ed.
He looked down at your hand intertwined with his and practically melted.
There was another thing you liked about monsters. Classic monsters more so. They wanted love and that made them increadible human to you.
That was always your debate when talking about movies. That was always something that made you love Horror more. Edward found that fascinating. The fact that you could find a completely human thing in a non human being was increadible beautiful.
He looked at you from across the room as you examined the body with curiosity with a smile.
"How many-"
"Eight" you glanced up at him with smirk.
"Find any-"
"None."
Your phone buzzed to to life drawing you from your studie. Ed studied how your face turned to disgust and annoyance. "Anything wrong?"
"Uh no just that guy again...wont stop bothering me..." you sat your phone down in the counter and went back to the body After shaking away your clearly frightened look.
Ed knew about this guy two weeks now he would stop bothering you. And it clearly scared you. Every time you would check your phone your face would grow pale and your brows would furrow.
"Hey why don't we take a break?" you smiled. "Sure...I could go for some coffee anyways..." you pulled your gloves and apron off before heading out the door. "Coming?"
"Yes of course one moment I'll be right out!" He made sure you where far down the hall before grabbing your phone and looking at the number and name of the man and Writing it down.
He also scanned through the messages. Text upon text of you reapeadedly telling this man to get lost or leave you alone but he kept returning even making threats towards you at some point.
He scowled deleting the number and heading out of the lab to meet you. "I believe you forgot this." you smiled up at him taking your phone and placing it in your pocket. "Thanks Ed. So I was thinking we could-"
"Are you free tomorrow night?" he asked suddenly stopping you mid scentence. "Oh uh yea...yea I am.why?"
"How does dinner and a movie sound? I'll pick you up at around nine?"
A small smile slowly spread across your face. You'd be damned Edward Nygma was actually asking you on a date.
"Sounds like a plan!"
He smiled and turned back to go to his office.
The night of ed was a complet gentlemen. He took you to your favioret restaurant and a showing of your favioret movie. He was also completely charming and if he could have made you fall for him more And to top it all off.
"I have a surprise for you!"
"Oh ed you didn't have to-"
He waved his free hand. "I know! I know but I think you are going to like this!" you squeezed the his hand that you held and grinned brightly. "Alright."
"C'mon!" He happily pulled you behind him leading you down the street. Once you got to what you assumed was his apartment he stopped you on the front step and covered your eyes.
"Now no peeking!" you giggled and squeezed your eyes shut as you let him guied you through the building. You head a door open before shutting behind you again. "Now wait right here!"
"Can I open my eyes yet?" you asked anxiously. "Not yet..." you heard the sound of a chair dragging across the floor and what seemed to be muffled cries. "Ed what-" you opened your eyes to find the man who worried you so much tied to a chair with a now on top of his head. "Suprise!"
You gasped and held a hand to your mouth. "John!?.. Ed what...what did you do?..."
He smiled and made his way to you placing a hand on each of your shoulders leading you to stand in front of him.
The man in front of you was bloody and beaten. Just like you where before you broke up with him. You looked at him in fear,shock anger and hate all boiling in the pit of your stomach. He had done awful things to you and threatened you oh so many times. It seemed as though Ed was just returning a favor.
And he wanted you to finish the job.
You now stood in front of him with an expressionless look. He yelled at you through the cloth around his mouth but it was inaudible.
"Why Ed?" you asked not taking your eyes off the man in the bow. He had moved behind him picking something up from the table beside him and grined.
"I can start a war or end one, give you the strength of a thousand men or leave you powerless I can be snared with a single glance but no fource can convince me to stay. What am I?" you looked up at him as he made his way back to you.
"Love (y/n). Love made me do it." he leaned down and kissed you softly. You sighed melting into the kiss not realizing he placed something in your hands.
"All I had to do was find him for you! Now here he is!" you looked down at your hands to find a shiny kitchen knife. You glanced at your reflection a twisted smile pulling at the corner of your lips.
You stepped forward holding the knife high above the man ready to bring it down on him but instead twirled it in your hand and hit ed across the face with the handle and slashed the man free from his chair.
"You're a monster Ed!" you pulled him from the chair and hurried to the door while he was still down. "C'mon John!" you yanked and pulled him along side you but he moved just barely. "Oh come on (y/n)! You love monsters!" He growled sitting up.
"No Ed you are the worst of the worst!"
He laughed. "Is he really any better than me? C'mon (y/n) you let that man go free and he'll be after you all over again...maybe worse this time."
He was half dead in your arms but he was right. Once John was back on his feet he would hunt you down and kill you himself. But that didn't change what Ed was attempting.
You pulled the door open seeing as Ed made no attempts to stop you.
He smirked pushing himself up into his elbows.
"The most human thing about monsters is there desire for love."
You froze.
"And do you think he really loved you?"
You looked down at the man you attempted to carry. And remembered what had happened the night you had a conversation with the man at the bar.
"At least what I did for you here was affectionate! He beat you for even doing anything he didn't approve of.."
Upon him saying that he could see the last human part of you snap. The part that wanted to do the right thing the part that wanted to save him.
Your grip tightened around the handle of the knife as you shut the door. "(y/n) What are you doing?" John looked up at you weakly and worriedly.
"He's right!"
You turned to Ed pulling John up and holding the knife to his throat.
"All monsters are human in there own way..."
"(y/n) don't...don't do this!" you pressed it closer to his throat. "They all want something we want have the same feelings we want."
"(y/-" you slowly dragged it across his throat. "Acceptance...Revenge!..."
On the last word you pulled the knife straight across his neck causing him to choke on his own blood And dropped him to the floor looking at Ed.
"Love..." You made your way across the room dropped the knife and fell to your knees besides him and kissed him deeply.
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alloverthegaf · 6 years ago
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If you're still taking prompts, I'd like to send in again "Jarvis finds a secret OP in a certain mountain, while scanning for irregularities in the military dealings with STARK industries." Aka. Tony finds the Stargate. I'm still interested in reading that ^^
You are insanely patient and kind for how long you waited for me to write this my dude, thank you, and thanks for sending it again and reminding me of it because I was so in love with the idea. Hopefully this makes it up to you because this is definitely the longest thing I’ve written in a while, especially in one sitting. I had SO much fun developing the universe for this one too, and have a couple of vague ideas to maybe add to it in the future.
FYI we’re pretending the Marvel and Stargate timelines match up, don’t question it.
“Sir.”
Tony looks up from his welding torch, shoving the goggles away from his eyes. “What have you got, J?”
A second’s hesitation, which is enough by JARVIS’ standards to have Tony apprehensive. “A problem, Sir.”
Tony leans back in his chair, rolling slightly with the momentum. Well, that’s no surprise. He’s spent the past month and a half tracking down all organisations and branches of military connected to Stark Industries - or rather, he’s had JARVIS track them down - in his ongoing mission to right the wrongs of his war-mongering past. His main goal since the whole terrible clash with Obie has been to put the last scraps of his violent profiteering to rest, and that involves sifting through everyone who’s ever bought a single gun designed by his hands, evaluating their need for his weapons, analysing the actions made, the ambitions desired by his previous customers. In some cases, mostly private militant groups and a number of organisations Tony likes to think even the old him would never have dealt with if it hadn’t been Obie doing the deals and shaking the hands, it’s a simple enough decision; recall what was sold, reimburse them for their troubles, and sic the most well paid lawyers in America on them if they try to fight it.
In other areas, it’s a great deal more complicated, areas like the army where it’s not as simple as taking back what he made and leaving them to fend for themselves. Some few, like the Air Force where Rhodey not only has a great deal of influence but has spent half of his life fighting for, he leaves alone.
JARVIS has been going periodically through every customer on the extensive list and making evaluations of his own to triage the ones that Tony needs to go over. After some thought Tony had confirmed that he should go through all branches of the Air Force as well, because while Rhodey believes in them and he believes in Rhodey, he knows his best friend’s reach is not infinite.
“What kind of problem?”
“I have tracked a number of Personal Defence Weapons to a Top Secret Air Force facility in Colorado. It claims to be a Deep Space Radar Telemetry unit but all information regarding the outfit is classified.”
Tony raises an eyebrow. JARVIS isn’t one to let a little thing like ‘classified’ stop him. “So de-classify it.”
“I did, Sir.”
Another hesitation. Tony feels his curiosity piqued. “Do you want a drum roll?”
JARVIS doesn’t respond, simply throws up the very secret, very illegally obtained files on the nearest screen. Tony cocks his head towards it and rolls his chair closer. Five minutes of reading and Tony finds himself checking to make sure it’s not April 1st.
“Am I not giving you enough attention, JARVIS? You playing pranks on your old man now?”
“I assure you, Sir, this is all directly from the Air Force database.”
Tony goes back to the files. “Hmm.”
The klaxon is ringing in his ears, accompanied by a rhythmic ‘intruder alert’ as Daniel rushes through the grey corridors of Stargate Command. It’s a testament to just how long he’s spent in this facility that he no longer gets lost, so many levels and hallways all so eerily identical it’s as if they were specifically designed to spin you in circles.
Jack insists it’s simply because the Air Force “has a boner for boring”. Daniel had rolled his eyes at the comment, but secretly he’d agreed.
It’s not the more common alarm warning of an off-world activation, and that more than anything has Daniel on edge. Perhaps he should find some kind of relief in the fact that there isn’t a System Lord currently trying to bash their way through the Iris, but that situation at least is familiar. They’ve never had someone actually break into the mountain from the more Earthly side before. Their security’s too good for that. Which means whoever’s managed to push their way in must be better.
Daniel’s first suspicion is NID. He’s deeply hoping he’s wrong. He’s had about enough of them to last two lifetimes.
He turns the corner and finds a row of airmen stationed in front of the elevator doors, guns raised and at the ready. General Hammond stands behind them, Jack at his side.
It takes a moment for Daniel to register that whatever team has managed to find their way past the SGC’s defences - or blast their way through, and thinking of the friendly corporal who’d waved him through the front gate this morning he sincerely hopes it’s the former option - are now using the elevator. As he reaches Jack’s side and takes in the steady line of guns pointed at the doors, he wonders if he’s missing some kind of tactical psych out tactic the enemy has employed, or if they simply made it this far on sheer dumb luck.
Jack gives him the side-eye, his own gun held steady in his hands. “Daniel.”
Daniel gives him the side-eye right back. “Jack.”
“Any reason you’ve volunteered yourself for the first line of defence?”
Years of experience has Daniel recognising the reproach for what it is, and years of experience has him waving it off with ease. “We might be able to negotiate.”
Jack doesn’t even try to hide the full bodied sigh at that response. “You might get your head blown off.”
Daniel shrugs. “That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”
The elevator dings, the sound obnoxiously bright and cheery in the circumstances, and Jack’s eyes flit back, laser focused. The gun in his hands is raised and Daniel notices with a mix of appreciation and irritation that he steps forward and to the right slightly, putting himself in Daniel’s line of fire.
The room holds their breath, then the doors open, and -
“Iron Man?” one of the men in front whispers with something that sounds embarrassingly like awe. Jack’s eyes narrow and Daniel’s mouth drops open.
The red and gold suit steps forward once, twice, and raises its hands in a peaceful gesture. “Hey. I heard you were having a party.”
It certainly sounds like Stark’s voice, modulated as it is through the suit’s speakers. General Hammond recovers first, demanding “reveal yourself immediately.”
Surprisingly, he does. First the faceplate flips up, showing Tony Stark’s handsome face and iconic facial hair, before the rest of the suit opens. Daniel watches with wide eyes as the panels fold back on themselves and Stark steps out smoothly in a suit that even from this distance he can tell costs more than a month’s rent. “Mister Stark,” Hammond says warily. “This is a top secret facility and upon breaking in you have violated - “
“Yes, yes, I know, big trouble,” says Stark with a flippant wave of his hand. “Feel free to arrest me. I’m sure the media will just love to get my statement on why the Air Force are throwing me in a cell.”
“Is that a threat, Stark?” Jack asks, unamused. Unlike some of the greener men in the room, he’s clearly far from awestruck of the celebrity - and superhero - who’s just crashed his way into Cheyenne Mountain.
“I’m actually hoping we can avoid all the threatening and grand-standing,” he replies. “I’m not here to fight.” He grimaces, just a hint apologetic, and gestures to the suit standing behind him as he says “uh, despite appearances.”
“It’s generally considered polite to call ahead before dropping in,” Jack says, dry as the Sahara.
Tony throws a shiny white smile at him, all charm and boyish innocence. “Have I ever been known to be polite?”
“What is it exactly you want, Mr Stark?” asks Hammond with a deep wariness.
Tony turns his eyes to the General, and for the first time he looks serious as he responds, “to talk, General. How about we start there?”
Mr-Stark-Call-Me-Tony stands by the windows of the briefing room, looking out over the Stargate below with what Daniel assumes is intent fascination. SG-1 sit stiffly at the table with Hammond at the end, watching the billionaire closely. “How is it that you found out about our operation, Mr Stark?”
Tony replies without looking away from the giant ring, something like dry amusement in his tone. “I’m not just famous for my dashing good looks, General. Your firewalls are impressive, by Air Force standards, but they’d hardly a match against me. Don’t feel too bad, no one’s is.”
“So you thought you’d just drop by for a visit?” asks Jack. He’s clearly unimpressed with the man, from his confident swagger to his effortless charm and apparent arrogance. Daniel himself is hardly star-struck; logically he knows the man’s famous, and even he absorbs enough news to know about the violent battle between him and the other unknown pilot that occurred in New York about two months ago. But his job is to study people, and he’s been studying Stark since the moment the faceplate lifted. The confidence the man exudes covers the uncertainty in his eyes. The million dollar smile takes away from the slight tremble in his hands. The flippant jokes distract from the tight lines on his face.
So, Daniel’s reserving judgement. At least until he knows why Stark is here.
“Sure,” Stark responds, finally turning to face them. His hands move to his pockets and he rocks back slightly on his heels. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’ve been shaking things up a little back at SI. Re-evaluating our priorities. I’ve been investigating everyone who’s ever bought so much as a bullet from me, and wasn’t I just full of questions when I came across you.”
Daniel sees Jack glance almost guiltily down at the handgun attached to his hip from the corner of his eye, and Sam doing the same across the table. He’s never personally paid much attention to the gun he uses, prefers to know as little about it as possible, in fact, but he’s seen the Stark logo around base enough times. More than that, he remembers the rant Jack had gone on after Stark had announced the complete retraction of weapons manufacturing. He’d stomped around Daniel’s office the whole time, gesticulating wildly and shouting about unreliability and leaving good men and women in the dust without a way to defend themselves. As if Daniel understood or sympathised at all about the importance of killing machines sold for a profit.
To be fair, Jack had ended his rant with a grudging admission of respect for the man’s apparent new values, and a wince of sympathy for what he must have gone through in those three months of absence. There had been an understanding in Jack’s eyes as he quietly admitted Stark had probably been tortured that Daniel hadn’t stopped seeing behind his eyelids for days afterwards.
“You could have gone through the proper channels,” Hammond reprimands. It’s that tone of disappointment that has managed to make even Jack shuffle guiltily in the past, and Daniel’s gratified to see that the great Tony Stark isn’t entirely immune, but the grimace is wiped from his face as quickly as it comes. “And would I have ever gotten clearance?”
“Probably not,” says Jack unapologetically. “Someone of your... status is a little too public for our liking.”
“Oh come on, Colonel,” says Tony with another of those ‘look how much I don’t care’ grins. “We both know it’s not my celebrity you disapprove of.”
Jack doesn’t argue the point.
“What is it exactly you want from us, Mr Stark?” asks Sam. She and Teal’c have remained silent up until now; Teal’c clearly doesn’t understand or care who this man is, and appears to be happy to leave this issue to his human friends. Sam has been quietly observing and absorbing the situation, but Daniel would bet money that he saw something like excitement show on her face when she first discovered just who had broken into the SGC with all the grace of a rhino. “Are you here to reclaim the weapons you sold to us?”
“I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure when I first found out,” says Tony. He regards Sam seriously, and, Daniel is gratified to see, with no small amount of respect. “I needed to see for myself, to understand what exactly it is you do here, what you’re... fighting against.”
“Our enemy is most malicious and powerful,” Teal’c speaks for the first time, his words heavy and serious. “They are a threat not only to us but to your entire world.”
“Yeah. I got that.” All amusement has dropped from Stark’s face, the carefree attitude gone to show the stance of someone serious and, perhaps, just a little bit scared. “I’ve read all about those alien slugs. I realise they’re no small threat.” The corner of his mouth ticks up, just a bit. “And I read all about you, Big Guy. I would love to pick your brain some time.”
Teal’c raises one unimpressed eyebrow. “I must decline such an unpleasant experience.” Stark’s face lights up at his deadpan response.
“Mr Stark,” says Hammond, attempting to get them back on track. If you’re not here to reclaim your weapons, why are you here?”
A moment longer of looking at Teal’c before he turns back to the General, serious again. “I’m here to learn, General. That’s my main goal here. I want to understand what exactly it is the world is up against. I want to study what you’ve already discovered.” He glances behind his shoulder, back into the Gate Room. “I would love to do some further study on how that works.”
“I could walk you through that,” Sam pipes up, then immediately looks at Hammond apologetically. “If, uh, you’re approved, that is.”
“It’s Carter, right?” Tony asks, looks at the pins on her shoulders, then at her. “Major Carter? I can tell you probably the only part of this whole thing that wasn’t a surprise was that you were involved. I’ve read your work on astrophysics, Major. You have a beautiful brain.” He says it with a salacious wink, but before Jack and Daniel can do so much as tense, he continues “honestly, if they hadn’t already recruited you I’d be making some phone calls right about now.”
Sam stares at him, clearly a little awe-struck and trying to hide it. “Th... thank you, Mr Stark. I’m familiar with your work as well. Your research articles on quantum mechanics has actually helped me a number of times while working on the Stargate program.
Tony grins, but it’s smaller and softer than the ones he’s thrown at them up until now. He actually looks a little proud when he says “glad I could be of assistance, Major.”
“So, that’s it?” asks Jack. He seems to have been slightly mollified by Stark’s genuine respect for Sam, but there’s still suspicion in his eyes and his voice. “You just want to learn? Do a book report?”
“Not just learn, Colonel,” is Tony’s quiet response. He looks at each of them in turn, putting the intended weight behind his words when he continues.
“I want to help.”
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